#ryan brenner x reader
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Memories - Part 20
I think it was a 'I saw it coming' chapter, unlike the bullets. This is filled with fluff, to make up for the heck of a slow burn this story is going through.
If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, they can let me know in the comments!
As always, hope this chapter is nice! Comments are appreciated!
Warnings: Sickness, medicines, mentions of a knife, food, rain. (I think those are about it)
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open just as twilight set in. She squinted her eyes to adjust them to the rays peeking through the curtain and looked at the time, before groaning internally and going back to sleep. It was then she noticed the coughing and groaning sound coming from beside her. Oh right. She was in Ben’s bed, having crawled in there after she wasn’t able to sleep in her own. She groggily turned on her side to see him wiping his nose with a tissue before gagging at his medicine and putting it back on the nightstand.
Despite Ben’s faith in himself and his immunity, he did, in fact, get sick.
She chuckled quietly before sitting up on her bed, bending over Ben to pick up his medicine, taking his hand and practically shoving the medicine on it.
“You need to eat this.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Y/N didn’t respond, just raised her eyebrow, giving him the ‘eat it willingly or you will be forced to’ look. He sighed before reluctantly taking the medicine, gulping it down with medicine, cringing at its taste afterwards. “Did you tell them you won’t be able to come today?”
“No, no. I’m perfectly fine, s’just a little cold.”
She kept the back of her hand on his forehead, immediately feeling his burning forehead. She tutted, “Surely you’re fine, sweetie.” If Ben would’ve been deaf, he would’ve smelled the sarcasm. She gently shoved him back onto the bed before covering him with the covers and giving him a thermometer. She asks him about food and after kissing his burning forehead, moved to the kitchen.
Y/N brought him a bowl of steaming chicken soup with some medicine she asked his mother about. Ben was having a short nap while waiting as much as she hated to wake him up from his peaceful slumber, she knew she had to. Gently shaking him, she waited for him to realize where on earth he was, by checking the thermometer, she turned it to show it to him, as if to prove a point.
“Go on, say it.”
“I told you so.”
“I shouldn’t have asked you to say that.”
She shrugged before gently handing him the chicken soup. Y/N could sense his tiredness and she made a motion for Ben to scoot over a bit and settled on the bed. He kept holding the bowl while she patiently fed him the soup, while also scolding him for his actions, like a mother does with her child.
“I told you it was about to rain, you should’ve listened. But no, you wanted to be your own boss and went all sauntering in the rain. Regretting it now, huh?”
Ben whined and his lips turned into a pout. The corners of Y/N’s lips involuntarily curled upwards. She handed him a tissue before getting up from the bed to take the dirty dishes back but a hand on her wrist stopped her. She turned back to see Ben with the same look as before, pleading puppy dog eyes adding to the already irresistible face. Damn those dark eyes!
Ben’s words were just a whisper, “Stay.”
She contemplated her options. Not that she would leave the house anyway, but laying there with him would also risk her getting sick. It wasn’t much of a choice really, especially with that puppy face, so she just nodded before going to the kitchen and setting the dishes.
If she would’ve been made of ice, the sight of him would’ve made her melt. He was tucked inside the bed from one side and his head was gently resting on the pillow, eyes anticipating her arrival. All that was missing was a teddy bear to make her human form melt.
She settled herself beside him, getting under the warm covers. Ben, even in his half asleep, pulled her closer to him, her back touching his front and nestled his face in the crook of her neck, with his hands around her waist. The need for a teddy bear was fulfilled. She smiled when he placed a little kiss there. She knew she would be sick the next day and Ben, as if reading her mind, voiced her thoughts, “You know you will be sick tomorrow, right?”
“Doesn’t matter. I have you to take care of me.”
His response was a bit muffled, but Y/N could hear something along the lines of, “that you do.”
Sometime around the nap, their positions had been shifted so Y/N was laying with her head on Ben’s chest and Ben’s chin resting on head. She awoke with a start before realizing her surroundings. She slowly removed her head from under his chin and looked up to see Ben smiling in his sleep. The girl tried to squirm out of his grasp but he just tightened his hold on her. Y/N was trying hard not to wake him up, because she didn’t know how to take care of a sick person, anymore than giving them their pills on time. She tried again and was almost successful before Ben’s eyes fluttered open and with half open optics he saw her. Seeing the distance between them he whined like a little kid and reached out to pull her back in but she was already out of his grasp.
“Knew sleepy Ben was a cuddler, but sick Ben is a toddler. Ha that rhymes,” she received a hmph in response.
She gave him his medicine again before his dark orbs could persuade her otherwise. He didn’t look like he was about to go to sleep anytime soon, plus, excessive rest might not aid. Deciding to order takeout, she ordered Ben to move from the bed and fetched a game for them to play. He patted the place beside him and rested his head on her shoulder while they played a round of Ludo. She took little breaks to make coffee and get the pizza they had ordered. Ben won, by the way.
While he was freshening up after their lunch and the small swearing session from Y/N after he was declared triumphant, she cleaned up their mess and as she was putting it away, she noticed a guitar sitting in the corner of the room. She was bewildered having not noticed it before and settled down on the chair near the desk just as Ben came out.
“You have a guitar?”
“Yeah, I got one around a movie I was doing.”
“I’ll have to see that one.”
“Play something?” It came out more as a question, mixed with a sniff. She was handy with a guitar and the one she was holding, was actually both of theirs. She learned when she was teenager, Ben chose a piano, but he had to learn to play one anyway for the film. He missed those little domestic moments they had, blasting some songs around the house during a lazy day. Their jobs didn’t offer much time for bits like these, but they tried to enjoy the some they got, as much as they could.
A week ago you said to me,
“Do you believe I’ll never be too far?”
If you’re lost just look for me,
You’ll find me in the regions of the summer stars.
Ben felt Y/N was singing the words right to him. The situation being when one of them was going to another city or country for filming. They knew they would be far from each other just physically but emotionally and mentally, they’re never apart. They knew the other would always be there for one another. They would always be each other’s comfort person or their shoulder to cry on.
He once found her under the night sky one day, after a particularly bad day at school. She was bullied by some good for nothing seniors who thought they were better than anyone else. They had got into a nasty fight afterwards, and despite her repeatedly assuring him she was fine, Ben knew she was lying. They had a night picnic that day and both had danced while making a fool of themselves, both learning dancing isn’t their strong suit, under the natural twinkling blanket of the night sky, to a song that later on became the first dance at their wedding. But that’s a story for another time.
The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye
Means we’ve already won
A necessity for apologies between you and me
Baby, there is none.
Ben’s mind went to all the times they fought. Sometimes they were childish, many times it was just teasing, which ended up with one of them chasing the other around the house. There had been a terrible fight about them not being able to make time for each other, which ended up with her walking out of the house into the cold, icy night. It was a fight they both regret to this day, Y/N for walking away without sorting it out calmly, and Ben, for letting it escalate to the point it did.
One time there was a scheduling issue and Ben wasn’t able to make it to an event Y/N had been particularly excited about. Guilt was eating him away and as soon as she came home, he peppered her face with kisses and apologized profusely. She had assured him it wasn’t his fault and apologizing wasn’t necessary but he still let out a string of apologies. He promised he would never repeat that.
We had some good times, didn’t we?
We had some good tricks up our sleeve
Goodbyes are bittersweet
But it’s not the end
I’ll see your face, again
They always had fun with each other. Even if one was tired one day, seeing the other just threw all that down a valley, they could see it in the other’s eyes. There were also little pranks, tricks to enjoy a boring day.
Ben actually had ‘tricks up our sleeve’ once. He was able to convince the crew to let him take the Ka-Bar his character Billy Russo was using to home. Ben slept on the couch that day, but he doesn’t regret his prank. (But don’t tell anyone that, or he might have to sleep on the couch again)
And you will find me
Yeah, you will find me
In places that we’ve never been
For reasons we don’t understand
Walking in the wind
Ben had found her, he had found his Y/N, even if she wasn’t really his. After that day in the hospital, he, in his shocked state, had failed to visit her and when he finally evaluated the situation and had prepared himself for the worst, she was gone. It had taken him about a month to find her again, but every sleepless night was worth it. He was so overjoyed that he almost went and hugged her, but his mind being the villain it was, reminded him of the truth. He stuck around though, and couldn't really afford it to let her slip away again.
That day in the cafe, he wasn’t looking for her. He was just taking a little break from everything. But he had found her that day, and for reasons he didn’t know but counted them as fate, a new found rush of confidence had filled him and he initiated a conversation. He knew he would find her, always, no matter where she was.
Walking in the wind
After their song session, added with some more songs, in few of which Ben joined her, they had their dinner and after a final check up, they both just sat beside each other while Y/N read to him, gliding her hands through his hair.
It was safe to say they had a very unproductive day.
#ben barnes#sebastian stan#benjamin barnes#benjamin thomas barnes#ben barnes x reader#ben barnes x y/n#ben barnes x you#sirius black#fanfic#fanfiction#Memories#bin bons#billy russo#sebby stan#ryan brenner#walking in the wind
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william thurber with a writer s/o who he does illustrations for. the two of them spend hours working on books together and spending hours in stationery stalls. dates to libraries and parks to find inspiration. they spend hours in the city figuring out the best way to portray the worlds they build together.
billy russo with a writer s/o who he encourages to quit their job to focus on their novel. offering to supply them with whatever they need. buying first class tickets to places like paris so that the scenery can be accurate.
the darkling with a writer s/o who’s also a fabrikator. they bind their own books and that’s how the darkling discovered them. his copy of “Lives of Saints” was damaged and Fedyor suggested a Fabrikator who specialised in books. he finds you working on your own novel in your chambers. you’re shocked at first to see him but when he gives you his request you’re more then happy for help. aleksander sits there while he watches you work, finding a page of one of your novels and reading it. by the time you’re done he’s asking for a copy to read on his next deployment
logan delos with a writer s/o who works for delos. they always have a book on hand and write the best storyline’s for westworld. in fact this specific writer has written logan’s favourite storyline’s. they catch his eye in the elevator where they’re reading a beat up copy of little women. later logan shows up in their office, prying into their personal life and somehow they end up on a date to westworld.
caspian x with a writer s/o who works in the royal library. they know every book off by heart and are full of random facts. when caspian is first crowned they’re the one who gives him a book on old narnian traditions. this leads to caspian begging them to come work in the narnian royal library. reluctantly they agree and they’re astonished by the size of it. caspian finds them writing one moment and he asks about it, they talk for hours about the world they’re writing and caspian offers to bring them on the dawntreader to add depth.
benjamin greene with a writer s/o who’s a friend of leo’s and that’s how they meet. they spend most of their time with leo, curled up with him watching the while they write. one day benjamin asks about it and they give him the journal. he returns it the next day gushing about their writing and even leo can see that they’re a better match for benjamin then his mother is. leo confronts benjamin, telling him to break up with julia and ask reader on a date. telling the bespectacled man that they’re a far better suit for him. that night benjamin goes to bed thinking about leo’s words. a few months later reader is getting their first novel published thanks to benjamin’s help.
ryan brenner with a writer s/o who he meets on a train one day. they get to talking and it turns out they’re both drifters. reader tells ryan about what they’re working on at that moment and they end up in a small town somewhere. ryan works on his music while reader works on their novel, it all flows together. eventually they just fit into each other lives perfectly. the lines between friendship and romance are blurred but it works for their unconventional lifestyle.
#billy russo#billy russo imagine#billy russo x reader#billy russo headcanon#benjamin greene x reader#benjamin greene#ben barnes#ben barnes headcanon#benjamin green headcanon#caspian x#prince caspian x reader#king caspian x reader#king caspian headcanons#logan delos headcanons#william thurber headcanons
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Here it is! Sign ups for the Ben Barnes Characters Secret Santa are now open!!!
To make sure this shows in the tags, I’m going to reblog with the link to the google form for you to fill out so check that below!
And please take a moment to read through some quick rules before you do! Let either myself or Leeann @the-purity-pen know if you have any questions or concerns or anything. I’ll also share a link to our Ben Barnes discord where we will have a channel just for the secret santa for questions and stuff!
Here is the timeline for this event:
Sept 26 - Oct 22: sign ups
Oct 23 - Nov 14: we assign secret Santa’s and reach out to everyone by 11.14
Week of dec 6- check in with everyone
Dec 20 - Dec 30: post dates and celebrations
A few quick rules:
Please be 18 and over to participate since we are allowing smut.
Fill out the google form as thoroughly as possible so we can match you up as best we can and to help your gifter write your fic
Stick to characters only, no real people fic will be allowed.
Word counts aren’t everything, but please try to have your fic at least 1k words
Make sure anon is on so you and your giftee can communicate and chat! Make sure you don’t reveal who you are until posting week!
Also make sure DMs are open for me and Leeann to message you to give you your recipient and to check in
If you cannot finish your fic for any reason, please let one of us know ASAP!
Have fun!
Sign up form is in the reblog below as well as the link to our Ben Barnes discord! 👇
#ben barnes#billy russo x reader#logan delos x reader#benjamin greene x reader#prince caspian x reader#the darkling x reader#Aleksander Morovoza x reader#general kirigan x reader#nick tortano x reader#ryan brenner x reader#dorian gray x reader#caspian x reader
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Ben Barnes Holiday Fic Exchange
Ben Barnes Holiday Fic Exchange
SIGN UPS CLOSE TOMORROW OCTOBER 23!!!
JOIN THE DISCORD!
SIGN UP HERE!
And please take a moment to read through some quick rules before you do! Let either myself or Jey @flightlessangelwings know if you have any questions or concerns or anything. I’ll also share a link to our Ben Barnes discord where we will have a channel just for the secret santa for questions and stuff! Here is the timeline for this event:
Sept 26 - Oct 22: sign ups
Oct 23 - Nov 14: we assign secret Santa’s and reach out to everyone by 11.14
Week of dec 6- check in with everyone
Dec 20 - Dec 30: post dates and celebrations
A few quick rules:
Please be 18 and over to participate since we are allowing smut.
Fill out the google form as thoroughly as possible so we can match you up as best we can and to help your gifter write your fic
Stick to characters only, no real people fic will be allowed.
Word counts aren’t everything, but please try to have your fic at least 1k words
Make sure anon is on so you and your giftee can communicate and chat! Make sure you don’t reveal who you are until posting week!
Also, make sure DMs are open for me and Jey to message you to give you your recipient and to check in
If you cannot finish your fic for any reason, please let one of us know ASAP!
Have fun!
#billy russo x reader#ryan brenner x reader#logan delos x reader#ben barnes#bin bons#binbons#the darkling x reader#aleksander morozova x reader#general kirgian x reader#nick tortano x reader#prince caspian x reader#caspian x reader#king caspian x reader#benjamin greene x reader#ben barnes character#ben barnes fic#ben barnes fanfic#dorian gray x reader
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The Next One Is Free
A PASSING THROUGH ONE SHOT POV REMIX
A/N: A long long time ago I posted an ask where for people to request befores, afters, or POV changes for any scene/ chapter of any of my stories, and @suchatinyinfinity (thanks Dani!) asked for the scene from Passing Through when Ryan and Reader meet from a different POV (which we get from Reader in the main story) and I am sorry it took me so long to get to because I had a blast writing it. It also goes along with the first prompt from this September prompt list- which I am going to try to utilize in some way shape or form through this month in an attempt to write daily. The goal for September is to empty my inbox and catch up on things I have been meaning to write so without further ado...
Request/ Prompt: Ryan & Reader’s first meeting- POV Remix // September Prompt Day 1- the smell of coffee
Word Count: 1k
It was a typical Tuesday morning shift at Caribou.
The bell above the door hadn’t stopped jingling for more than a few seconds at a time as customers came and went. The chiming sound was accompanied by the near constant clanking of ceramic mugs jumbling together in the dishwasher and the drip, drip, hiss of the coffee pots to create a sort of soundtrack for her to work to. With only one song. One long song on an endless loop.
Maggie stared through the steam of the espresso machine at the line of customers stretching out from the counter. Their number never dwindled to less than four no matter how quickly she filled cups or frothed foam. The fast pace could sometimes be exhausting, but it did help to make the time fly when she was consistently busy. Her eyes darted up to the clock mounted to the wall on the far side of the room, squinting to read the time as a man with broad shoulders stepped into the line. Ten thirty. One more hour to go. You can do this, Mags.
By then she had already had her slew of early regulars with their routine orders and friendly smiles, their “have a great day hun”s and their “see you tomorrow”s genuine even if they were also routine. The daily stream of half sleeping students stopping in for a pick me up en route to their 9 am class a few blocks over at the UC Denver campus had already come through too, Maggie recognizing a few of them as classmates from her night classes and making small talk about assignments or upcoming exams as she made their drinks. There was also a group of middle aged women who she could count on every other week to take up two tables in the corner while they discussed whatever it was their book club had read recently. Though it seemed like it would do the opposite, seeing certain faces, chatting with the same people, even if it was about the same thing every time, helped make a monotonous job less so.
Not all regulars were a welcome sight though, and she groaned as she recognized the broad shouldered man in the gray suit as the jerk who had made her new co-worker cry the previous week with his rude demeanor. Ugh. Not this guy again. It was undoubtedly him though, his voice cutting through the busy space as he spoke into the phone pressed to his ear with the same condescending tone he used to order his coffee. Letting out a sigh, Maggie capped the tiny cups she held and cashed out her current customer, mentally crossing her fingers in hopes that the jerk in the suit wouldn’t cause any problems. Please I just want my shift to end in peace. I have one more hour and then I’m free. I really just want it to go smoothly.
The next customer, it seemed, had heard that silent plea, the man ordering a small coffee with a kind smile. He dropped his change directly into the tip jar, thanking her in a slow southern drawl with a tip of his head. He wrapped his long, tattooed fingers around the cardboard cup she passed him and stepped aside, heading for the table where creamers and sweeteners were stocked.
Before she could even process the pleasant interaction though, the jerk was barking his order at her and she felt herself struggling to keep a customer service approved smile on her face. The effort wasn’t lost on the woman in line behind him, and she gave Maggie a sympathetic look. Luckily, the well dressed asshole didn’t have any complaints about his coffee this time, and since his order was simple he was out of her hair relatively quickly. Good. Now get out of here before-
But it was too late for him to leave without incident as dark brown liquid splashed onto his coat. Maggie saw it happening in slow motion, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was already helping a different set of customers when the nice but apparently clumsy woman who had just shot her a look of solidarity had spilled her beverage. And of course it had to be on him. Maggie watched helplessly as the woman tried to diffuse the situation before it became a shouting match, apologizing for the stain and offering to take care of his drycleaning. More than he deserves, but she’s trying.
He wasn’t having it though, and just when Maggie wondered if she needed to call for her manager, the kind man with warm eyes was back to intervene. Though he didn’t appear to know the woman, he stepped between her and the jerk and addressed the other man directly. He calmly but sternly repeated what the woman had offered, telling the man to either accept her apology and courtesy or move along. For half a second, Maggie wondered if the well-intentioned canvas and denim clad young man hadn’t made things worse by stepping in, but something in the combination of his tone and the way his calm eyes flashed dark and serious must have made the jerk think twice because he left, grumbling about taking his business to the coffeehouse over on Larimer. Oh. Please do.
Pressing a fully punched card with a hand-written “next one is free!” on the back into the hero of the morning’s callused palm, Maggie thanked him for ridding the shop of the undesirable customer and poured a fresh cup of coffee for the woman whose beverage the jerk had left wearing. Continuing to help the customers in line, Maggie kept one eye on the pair as they introduced themselves to one another, the woman thanking him again and both of them grinning over their steaming cups. Did I just witness one of those coffee shop meet cutes? Like in hallmark movies and fanfiction?
Laughing to herself, she watched the two of them leave the shop, the bell announcing their departure, and hoped for one more thing- I hope when he comes in for his free one… they come back together.
.
.
.
Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags please feel free to let me know or use the form at the top of my masterlist!
Tags: @something-tofightfor @suchatinyinfinity @malionnes @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek @pheedraws @beautifuldesastre @alraedesigns @dearmarii @fific7 @obscurilicious @luminex3 @vetseras @blackbirddaredevil23 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @yespolkadotkitty
#passing through#POV remix#POV switch#ryan brenner#ryan brenner fanfiction#ryan brenner x reader#ryan brenner x you#ryan brenner x junebug#jackie and ryan fanfiction#ryan meets reader POV remix#introducing maggie the barista#the next one is free
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(My photo edit)
ℝ𝕪𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣
𝑀𝒾𝓃𝒾-𝒮𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈
Open Roads (WIP)
#ryan brenner#ryan brenner x reader#ryan brenner fanfiction#ryan brenner imagine#ryan brenner fanfic#jackie and ryan movie#ben barnes
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That moment when...
you have to stop the roll you’re on writing Ryan Brenner to get ready for aquatic therapy. 🚂🎸
#to be continued#and dare I say completed?#ryan brenner#ryan brenner x reader#and another ryan verse entirely#this is number 4 or 5#someone make me stop
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New and Improved Master Masterlist
Sirius Black and Remus Lupin Stories
Logan Delos Stories - Westworld
A Billy Russo Story - Punisher
Ben Barnes Characters Stories
#Ben Barnes#Sirius Black#Remus Lupin#Billy Russo#Prince Caspian#Logan Delos#johnny whittaker#sam adams#Ryan Brenner#Tom Ward#Nick Tortano#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#billy russo x reader#King Caspian#Prince Caspian x Reader#logan delos x reader#Johnny Whittaker x Reader#Sam Adams x Reader#Ryan Brenner x Reader#Tom Ward x Reader#Nick Tortano x Reader#masterlist
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Return the Lost Spirit
Ryan Brenner/Reader
Winter Celebration #2
I finally got to writing these requests! I’m never gonna be able to write them all for Christmas but the holidays go on after Christmas too, so there’s no reason to panic.
I thought this was cute. Buying presents for people is rarely easy. I just finished shopping today and it was a little painful haha. I have seen these things mentioned in the fic a lot this year and thought writing about them would be very cute. The most recent time was today, sadly there was hardly any of the favorite ones left. Could probably buy one for myself too.
I hope you all have a good holiday time and whenever you’re having this holiday, I hope it’s full of happiness and love! I’m sort of back and want to thank you all sweeties for being here. This was requested by @suchatinyinfinity for the cutest boy Ryan Brenner. He’s such a sweetheart.
Words: 2859
2. ”Climb on my shoulders”
8. ”There’s a mistletoe… Should we… You know?”
10. ”Is this for me?”
You hated Christmas shopping. There was something almost infuriating in it; if buying presents for the people you loved was nice, the amount of people everywhere around you was the infuriating part.
And every single Christmas you were on the move too late, when there were so many people you could hardly even turn around on your steps without hitting someone’s shoulder or making someone drop everything they were holding.
Then they said the British taxi drivers could turn their cars around a coin… When you couldn’t turn around in a crowd.
Everything was even worse when you hadn’t thought of what to buy for people in advance. You always went to the stores “to see would there be something that’d give you the feeling of being the one for this and this person”.
Here’s a lie to you: it never came. If it did, it was a thick lie. Black like the night sky, not even close to a white lie. No, white lies during Christmas shopping are something like “I buy them chocolate because no one probably will buy that,” when the truth is that every single person will buy chocolate. Then you go there buying chocolate because these so-called no-one-else’s will not do it. When they will. They always will.
Nothing bad about chocolate. Who doesn’t love chocolate? During Christmas times, they sold so many different types of chocolate getting one pack of each was a reason to celebrate too. Could never have enough. But you were the kind of person who wanted to give something else and chocolate. Chocolate was a nice plus. You knew the faces of “you only gave me chocolate” as well as the “you gave me chocolate too!” and there were pros and cons with both. This time you wanted the latter.
In short, you had zero Christmas spirit in you.
This time you didn’t have to try to survive in the Christmas rush on your own. Ryan had come to you for the holidays, a week before, so – like he said – he could be there for you from worse to better. Seemed like he hated the rush too. That was one of the reasons why he lived the life he did. To get away from the rushes of life, not having to deal with it all; when he sat down to play his guitar and sing to people, there was always this aspect of seeing everyone else’s rush but not having one himself. He sometimes wanted to try it.
This was the time for him to try it. Besides, it was the first Christmas he was about to spend with you, so it was special. He didn’t want to miss a single second of it.
When you walked to the entrance of a big department store, he could see, sense, almost feel how much you disliked this.
“Hey,” he caught your attention, “it’ll be fine. It’ll be fun,” during the last sentence, his eyes started to sparkle a little as he put more effort on the words.
You found yourself smiling at him. “Sure,” you said with exhaustion in your voice.
Ryan took your hand in his. “It will be. We will make it fun, okay?”
You nodded. He smiled and seemed to be satisfied with that little gesture and the sigh of okay you let out after his words. He squeezed your hand tighter in his as you two finally stepped inside the department store.
There were a lot of people there but not so much you had thought there would be, and the place was full of the Christmas song playing from the speakers on the ceiling. You were able to walk around without getting stuck anywhere, and Ryan’s hand in yours kept you grounded and with him. It took a while but after you found yourself smiling with him every time he noticed and pointed at something.
“How about that one?” he pointed at a big dog plushie, big enough for you to sleep on.
“She already has a big cat. And I will never be able to find so much paper that’ll be enough to wrap that one in.”
Ryan gave you a cute, true laugh. His laughter alone was enough to bring you happiness.
“What about that one over there?” he asked when you were still busy looking at his beautiful, sparkling eyes.
Ryan liked Christmas. Always had. During the recent years it had changed for him; he spent it with whoever he could, usually a friend. But this time – he spent it with you. He wouldn’t have been anywhere else.
“Which one?” you asked when you were finally brought back to this earth from the warmth of his eyes.
“That one up there,” he pointed at it with his free hand and started to walk you towards it, stepping slightly ahead of you. “This one, she could like this very much. Who says it only has to be around for Christmas?”
“Ryan dear, it has snow and Santa with his reindeer. Even Rudolph is there!”
“Well, still,” Ryan said as he stopped by the shelf. It was on top of it, even he couldn’t reach it. He wasn’t exactly a short man but now he had to face the fact that he, in fact, was a short man when it came to Christmas.
He tried to jump and rise on his toes, but nothing helped.
“We could ask for a stool… or someone to bring it down for us?” you said as you looked at Ryan’s desperate tries to get the box to move to get it down.
It was a Christmas village decoration with a big, brown house in the center. On the roof of it was Santa with his reindeer, Rudolph as the leader. There were children playing in the yard and with some batteries you could get led lights and they’d even move a little. There was an unboxed one to show in a showcase next to the shelf. You went to see it when Ryan still tried to solve the mystery of how to get the box down. While doing that, you momentarily let go of his hand, knowing you’d be holding it soon again.
“Ryan, look! Rudolph’s nose is red!” you laughed as you looked at the village. Rudolph’s nose really got a red light when the village was turned on with batteries inside.
You could hear Ryan’s laugh. “Really? Let me see,” he came next to you. You could feel his shoulder touching yours as he stood there. What you didn’t see as you were focused on watching the village decoration was that Ryan was looking at you. And he knew, he just knew you had found the lost sparkle of Christmas spirit in you when you watched all the decorations in the showcase.
“Let’s get this one for your mom,” he said and pointed at the one with Santa and the reindeer.
“How can we get the box from up there?” you looked at him as you asked in a little sad voice.
“I think I know how,” Ryan had a grin on his lips. You looked into his eyes, then at the grin and then back into his eyes. “Come,” he said and took your hand again to get you back to the shelf with the boxes.
You stood there, a little lost, looking up at the one you wanted, feeling Ryan’s eyes on you.
There was this thinking silence between you and him for a while as you tried to figure out what he had in mind.
Then he said it, getting all your attention with only one syllable.
“Climb on my shoulders,” his smile was so boyish and cute you couldn’t help but join in. He still somehow found a small piece of doubt from it. “I’m serious, climb on my shoulders.”
“You cannot be – “
“I already said it, I’m serious. Climb on my shoulders, Y/N. We’ll get the box down that way.”
You looked at him and then up at the box. It’d make you sad if you didn’t buy that for your mom. Something else would’ve been nice, yes, but you knew she’d like this a lot. You had to get it. Since there was no one nearby who could help you, there was no other choice. You could feel how the adventurous side took over you.
He crouched down, so it was easier for you to climb on his shoulders. When you got there, he took a hold of your legs, so you wouldn’t fall.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah,” you answered in a strong voice, and Ryan stood up.
You had to hold his head with your hand to not lose balance, but it got easier in mere seconds. You were tall enough to get the box. When you got it to your hands, you held it tightly, looking at it like you could hold it even tighter that way, so you really wouldn’t drop it.
Ryan looked up to see did you have the box and when he saw you did, he took a step back, so you could hold it to you, and he could get you back down. When you stood safely in front of him again, he looked at how happy you were with the big, red box that showed the picture of the lighted decoration.
He knew exactly what to do to keep that happiness.
“I think we’re gonna need a shopping cart. Carrying that around will be a little hard,” he said as he looked up at the shelf you had gotten it from. One box was missing.
There was a topic for someone to wonder: how had someone gotten it down?
“I’ll get it,” you said almost immediately. “Will you wait here?”
“I’ll be right here,” he nodded, “with the box.”
He adored that joy in your spirit that had suddenly rose up after so many sighs and doubts. So little things needed for that…
You set the box down on some bigger ones that had these standing reindeers and gave a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be back in just a minute,” you promised, and he nodded.
“I’ll be here.”
When you went to get the cart, he looked down at the box and then turned around to see all the smaller ones. He went to the showcase to see them all again and a new smile rose on his lips as he was sure he had found the one. His gaze scanned through the boxes on the lower shelves until he found it, much smaller box but not less cute. He got it behind the bigger one, so you wouldn’t see it when you came.
He waited for you for a moment, watching people going through the nearest sections, talking to each other, children getting excited over something they saw and parents trying to decide what to buy for Christmas for the children at home. Some people were alone, just walking past everything to the sections they needed something from. One man bought light bulbs and ended up taking a silver bird decoration with him too. Ryan smiled. But then the man took a candle too, and Ryan suddenly felt sad. Was it possible he bought a decoration for someone’s grave; a loved one he had lost? His gaze went back to the joyful children with their parents. Then he, like by an instinct, turned to see you coming with the shopping cart and smiled again.
“Sorry, it took a while, everyone was getting their carts at the same time,” you said as you stopped by the boxes, just far enough not to see what Ryan had hidden behind the bigger one you had gotten down.
“No problem, I’ve been looking at what else they’ve got here.”
You smiled to him and walked closer to the box to move it in the cart. “They have quite a lot of stuff around here. Especially during the Christmas time.”
“They do. I’m sure everyone can find something for their loved ones to bring some joy and to return the lost spirit,” Ryan spoke as he looked at you putting the box in the cart. He was smiling. You’d see it when you’d turn. Just a few seconds…
“That sounded beautiful. Return the lost spirit,” you said as you got the box nicely in the cart. Then you turned.
There was a smaller box there. It hadn’t been there when you had put the bigger one there, you were sure. You would’ve needed to move it to get yours there. It was a similar village decoration, except that this one had a smaller house and a car. There was a Christmas tree on the roof of the red Fiat 600, and a fox was peeking from the corner of the house. The house had lights on the windows and the railings of the stairs that led to the door, the car’s lights were warmly yellow. There was a small tree by the fox and it had lights too, in many colors.
Ryan noticed how you looked at it. “Return the lost spirit… I see how happy all these decorations make you. This one reminded me of you,” his voice was soft and tender, the smile on his lips sweet and happy.
“Is this for me?” you asked as you looked at him and not at the box anymore.
“It is for you,” he said with a nod of his head. He put his slightly overgrown hair behind his ear shyly, put his cap better. The smile remained. He blinked his dark pair of eyes as he nodded again. “It is for you, Y/N.”
“Ryan…” you whispered. “This is…”
“I know it’s just a decoration, but they all made you so happy. Now you know one of your presents as well, but I just couldn’t… I cannot leave it, much like you cannot leave the…”
“Thank you,” you went to hug him. He wrapped his own arms around you tightly, one hand finding the back of your head.
You knew it was a decoration you’d only have around for Christmas, but the thought behind it was so meaningful. The person who gave it to you. That was the part that made you so happy: you didn’t expect Ryan getting you anything, but he was being so genuine, so cute about it that you didn’t have a heart to stop him. He didn’t have much and still he wanted to give you something like that.
You stayed like that for a moment until you heard his voice whispering somewhere by your head. “There’s a mistletoe. Should we… You know?”
You tittered. “You’re so silly…”
“No, for real, there is one. Should we…?” You could hear how he smiled.
You parted from him just enough to look up at him properly. He still smiled and it made you smile too. “Where?” Like you needed to know. You were playing along.
“Over there,” he said absentmindedly. You didn’t believe for a moment there even was one. Ryan was a playful guy when he wanted to, and it was sweet how he wanted to cheer you up.
You leaned in to kiss him on the lips. He returned the kiss without any hesitation, so pure and sweet like his words, like he was as himself. It went on for a moment and afterwards you leaned your forehead against his, stayed there for a handful of breaths. Looking up at him, you moved and let him put the smaller box, your box, in the cart next to the bigger one meant for your mom.
“I’m gonna get yours wrapped too. You cannot play with it before Christmas,” he said as he started to push the cart and you walked beside him.
“That’s cute. We have to buy the batteries; the box doesn’t probably have them.”
“Most likely not,” he found the right direction and you followed, grinning. “What?” he asked.
“I know what I’m going to buy for you.”
“I don’t ask for anything, you know that.”
“I know and so did you, but still you’re buying this.”
“I don’t buy this to get something back.”
“I know. I still will.”
“Will you tell me what it is?” he asked with a mischievous smile on his lips. One of his cutest ones.
You shook your head. “It’s gonna be a secret. But it will have lots of spirit,” you looked at him.
He chuckled at you this time and touched your arm with his hand, thanking you in advance. He kept asking about it like a kid for the rest of the time at the department store. It wasn’t something you were going to buy from there.
It was something much better.
Not much later you found out there was, indeed, a mistletoe. Considering Ryan gave you many kisses during the time at the department store, there was never any mistletoe needed. He bought a Christmas hat and that, if something, was enough to keep the spirit up. You couldn’t stop laughing at him.
You knew that during the holidays spent with him, your spirit would never get lost again.
*****
Tag List: @padfootagain @billrussos @jennareedus @mamaraptor @suchatinyinfinity @delicatelilyflower @whostheblondegirl @carol-damn-vers @dylanobrusso @keithseabrook27 @something-tofightfor @shinebrightlikeafanbase @drinix
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#winter celebration 2#ryan brenner#ryan brenner x reader#ryan brenner drabble#return the lost spirit
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I know you aren't taking requests but I was wondering about headcanons? In particular maybe headcanons about Ben Barnes characters dating someone with anxiety? I've been really anxious lately and wish I had someone to help me.
Oh honey I know that feeling. And I was kinda immediately inspired so I wrote some headcanons for you! (If you ever need to talk, I'm here for you!)
Billy - I could see him being a little impatient with your anxiety. He probably has some experience after what happened when he was a kid, but he would've packed that away into his adult years. He tries, but he's not really good at helping you cope. Anxiety isn't something he can shoot or stab. But if you tell him what's going on and what you need, he'd do whatever he could to help you.
Logan - For Logan it is split into before and after Westworld. Before he's probably a lot like Billy. Logan has always had everything he needs provided for him and he's got his shallow moments, so anxiety for him is something he doesn't really consider. But after Westworld? After Westworld he is in that boat with you so he gets it. Both of you learn the best ways to help each other going forward.
Caspian - He would probably be really helpful in your time of need. After the Dawn Treader and the phantom of his father, he has some experience with that feeling. He'll help talk you through your anxieties, provide logic and suggestions when you need them. Sometimes you have to tell him that you just need someone there for you, not someone to fix everything.
Ryan - As a transient person, he probably has his fair share of anxieties. He'll notice when you're in that space and he will take steps to help you out. He's good at not smothering you, can read when you need space or contact. Once you're feeling better he will talk it out with you, let you work through your feelings. It's part of what you love about him.
Nick - The man tries, we'll give him that. He is full to the brim of good intentions but poor execution. The problem is that there isn't anything physical for him to threaten to make things better. He doesn't always know how to react when you're anxious, but he's open to you guiding him. He'll get better over time, but there are still times when he feels helpless when you're like that.
Sam - He definitely understands anxiety and is probably already fairly good to help you through it at the beginning. As time goes on, he gets better and better until just thinking about Sam is enough to calm you down a bit. There's times when he can't do anything to help, times when he is hiding from red coats and the war is full tilt, but he always tries. He needs you just as much as you need him.
Benjamin - Seeing as he obviously has his own anxiety issues, he'll understand where you're coming from but he doesn't always do the best at helping you. His anxieties sometimes make it so that he's scared he'll make things worse. Over time and after lots of conversations, both of you get into a place where you're able to help each other without sacrificing you're own mental health.
#my writing#headcanons#billy russo#billy russo x reader#logan delos#logan delos x reader#ryan brenner x reader#ryan brenner#caspian x reader#caspian#sam adams#sam adams x reader#nick tortano#nick tortano x reader#benjamin greene#benjamin greene x reader
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A Familiar Face (Part 7)
How about a chapter instead of a Sunday snippet? I love this story, and an update is far overdue! As a short refresher since I took so long (apologies!), your apartment has been broken into and ransacked. Ryan is with you and helps you sift through the wreckage as much as he is able. But you have a confession to make: you know who is the culprit, and you can’t hide the truth anymore. (Parts 1-6 can be found on my masterlist!
Rating: PG for a little steaminess
Word count: 3390 (Because Ryan gets to me and I lose any and all self-control.)
Tag list: @obscurilicious @the-blind-assassin-12 @something-tofightfor @logan-deloss @lexxierave @madamrogers @yannii04 @gollyderek @carlaangel86 @maydayfigment @vetseras @thisisparadisemylove @malionnes @thesandbeneathmytoes @crushed-pink-petals-writes @delos-destinations @luminex3 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @tenhargreeves @witchygagirl @fific7 @pheedraws
If you’d like to be added to/removed from my tag list, please just send me an ask or shoot me a DM.
Enjoy, and thanks for reading!
Ryan’s eyes crinkled up at the edges when he smiled. It was something you hadn’t discovered early on, like the pensive look that darkened his eyes sometimes or the way their color seemed to dance when he talked about music and places he’d been, things he’d seen. He was always wearing that tattered khaki hat, and the bill cast a shadow over his eyes, shrouding little things from view.
But that night, between guitar picking with calloused fingertips and singing that bursted from his soul, you and Ryan talked; you joked and laughed and the back-and-forth you both indulged in lasted longer than any of your previous conversations had. With Ryan’s overgrown hair brushed back, the only thing obstructing his eyes at times was a chunk of long bangs falling over his forehead. It wasn’t enough, however, to hide those eye crinkles when he laughed, framed by long, dark eyelashes. It was a small feature of his that was only showcased in certain instances, and one that most people wouldn’t notice. But, every time it happened, you felt your heart flip, the way it had just before the cozy house set back deep in the woods had been filled with music.
Your mind kept replaying the melody of the original song he’d played for you. It had stirred something deep inside of you, ignited a place within yourself that you’d never known existed.
“When did you write Southbound?” Your questions were becoming more personal, and the startling part, the part that made you the happiest, was that Ryan didn’t seem to mind answering them, nor did he seem hesitant to ask questions of his own. “What sparked that melody, those words?”
Ryan set his guitar down gently, leaning the front of the old acoustic against the wall, neck and peg board supporting the instrument. He regarded your face, the glint of genuine curiosity shining in your eyes. He was attentive to the way you were sitting, leaning forward and eager to hear more of his story.
He’d met many people over the time he’d spent on the roads, living life the way he saw fit. Some of them had been curious about his lifestyle, how long he’d been playing, that sort of thing. He’d met people who had pried for details, almost as if a disguised predator hunting for prey. But you… you were the first person he’d encountered that was interested in more than why he didn’t use plastic guitar picks, but chose thumb and finger picks instead. Ryan wasn’t used to people being interested in him as a person. He was conditioned to keeping to himself, allowing lips curled in disgust at his clothes, rust-stained or dirtied in places from hopping trains, to roll off his back. He smiled, one of those crooked, small quirks of his lips that he tended to lean toward when he was feeling shy. But it didn’t keep him from answering, and truthfully.
“Just keepin’ myself occupied on trains. Some’a those rides are long and I use the time to practice, to play.” He flexed his fingers, and you looked down to see the ink decorating his knuckles. That was another story you’d love to hear, what those tattoos meant to him, what they stood for. “I found a melody I liked, kept playin’ around with it, the tuning, the speed, the pickin’. It was a while before the words came. My old notebook is more scratched through words than anythin’ else.”
He looked at you, perched on the edge of the old vintage couch, some of the fabric beginning to wear. He caught your eyes and held your gaze for a lingering moment, andl his focus was drawn downward to your lips. He forced himself to not stare, to continue with his story.
“But the words came, and I liked ‘em alright. They fit when I paired the lyrics with the music. For a long time, I had two verses, the strumming in the middle, and that was it. Wasn’t until the thick of the winter when I was inspired to finish.”
Ryan stopped there. You wanted to ask him what had inspired him to turn the song in the specific direction it had gone. You wanted to ask him how autobiographical the song was, the parts about leaving home— where home had been, if he’d ever tried to find a permanent place he could be content in. He’d sung a line or so nodding to drinking, and you couldn’t help but feel a strong pull at your heartstrings, and the solemn weight that settled in your chest. Ryan hadn’t had an easy life.
Instead of responding with words, you surveyed Ryan’s face. He was still just across from you, the fire he’d built still crackling in the fireplace. You felt a chill and lifted your sock-clad feet to the bottom cushion of the sofa you’d been occupying for the evening, hugging your knees to your chest.
A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, You became lost in thought, with the knowledge that tomorrow would be another very long day. You were making a mental list of things to take care of when Ryan’s voice brought you back to the present. It was such a welcome distraction.
“Tell me about the diner.” He spoke softly, not much louder than the crackling of the blazing fire he’d built. Standing from where you’d been lounging, you moved to the heart again to toast before the fire. It was difficult to stay still, difficult to focus on anything other than the questions making endless rounds through your head, overwhelming your mind. You could focus on Ryan, though. The diner. You smiled genuinely. My comfort. My home. It felt like, somehow, Ryan knew how much the diner meant to you… and he did. It was impossible to miss when you were there, working non-stop but never without a smile, never too busy to indulge a patron in warm conversation. It was your safe haven.
“My grandparents opened up the place decades ago,” you started. You paused for a moment and relished the warmth radiating over your back. “They snatched it up with a down payment and a lump sum of pre-payment of the lease before the building had an interior, when it was just a shell of brick. They knew it would be the perfect location for the business they’d dreamt of opening.” You caught Ryan’s eyes, and there was a smile there, matching the one on his lips as well as your own. “It’s like the American Dream,” you laughed, and continued. “My parents took over…”
And just as quickly as your grin had come, it vanished with a darkening of your eyes. The shock and bewilderment you’d felt in discovering the state of your apartment was transitioning into outright anger. You could kill your brother. And the thought of him intruding your mind-- just like the way he’d intruded your apartment, your life once again-- reminded you that Ryan still had no idea about what you knew. What had actually happened.
“And that brings us here,” you finally continued. “I had money saved up, a nice amount. Cash, mostly from tips, so I could buy that building outright when it’s time, take over when my parents grew tired.” You swallowed hard, shoving down the lump in your throat that had been returning unwelcome throughout the evening and night. A slight look of contempt twisted your features, and your eyes began to prickle. You knew what was coming; it was inevitable. “For years, I’ve measured my life in coffee spoons, packs of sweetener and powdered creamer. Working toward that goal is my whole life, and I wouldn’t trade the double shifts or overtime for the world, but right now? I have nothing to show for it.” Hot tears stung your face, and you wiped them away angrily as you gathered the courage to look at Ryan. His gaze was centered on you already, stunningly intense. And you were hit with a realization then: that if anyone could understand what it was like to have nothing— next to no money, no home, a sparse amount of belongings— it was Ryan.
He had no permanent home. You were fairly positive he’d had his fair share of days with little to no money, and everything he owned fit in his pack, with the exception of his guitar. The peace you felt from your epiphany thawed your anger. Your tears were tapering. Sniffing quietly, you moved to the side as Ryan came to tend to the fire. A feeling of understanding hung in the air between the two of you as Ryan added some more kindling to the flames. Your eyes alternated between his movements and the dance of dark shadow with orange firelight moving over his features. You were mesmerized.
“I know who did it.” Your voice was barely more than a whisper and you were hyper-aware of your heart beating wildly beneath the safety of your rib cage. Ryan brushed his hands together and stood upright, his eyes regarding as he did so. He didn’t seem to be angry at all, but his curiosity was apparent. He was quiet for a moment, but finally answered with a slight nod, the silence remaining. You opened your mouth to apologize again, your self-loathing over lying by omission rising by the minute, but Ryan beat you to the punch.
“ ‘S’not much of my business, I reckon, but you…” He looked at you with a seriousness you’d never expect from him, and your eyes widened with anticipation and dread. “Are you safe, Y/N?” Ryan’s warm, dark eyes were round with concern, and not a touch of anger was present. All you saw was worry and care.
You nodded in response and cast your eyes downward. “It is your business,” you assured him. It’s your business. You were there and you… you helped me bear the brunt of it all. “And I’m sorry, Ryan. Feeling shame isn’t an excuse to lie. Nothing is.” For the first time, you were nervous in front of him, not because of how he made you feel, but because you’d deceived him. If he’d had any trust in you-- which you thought he might-- you’d taken advantage of that. “I don’t want you to get involved in my mess.” Looking up at him, you locked your eyes with his. He had no further reason to trust you, not in your opinion, but you hoped he’d be able to see the honesty that you were finally giving him, and that he deserved. “You’ve been a light in my life since you’ve been around, and I don’t want to dim that, not while you’re still here casting that glow.” Your cheeks burned at the realization of how corny your words sounded, but corny or not, they were absolute truth.
Closing the short distance between you, Ryan gently took one of your hands in his, tangling his long fingers with yours. He just looked at you for a few seconds, and then, he kissed you with care. His lips were soft against yours, his kiss light, lingering, laced with an air of urgency. One hand cupped your cheek and the other wrapped around your hand just a bit tighter, your fingers lacing with his. He kissed you again, this time with an added tenacity, yet somehow still chaste. When he pulled back to look at you, both for a reaction and to marvel at your beauty, you noticed his chestnut eyes had darkened a shade or two. Your hands were still locked together and you couldn’t seem to draw in a full, steady breath. You got lost in the warmth of his eyes for a moment before your gaze fell to his lips, already craving another taste.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, I shouldn’t ‘ve—“ You shook your head once and leaned in again, interrupting his very unnecessary apology. The way Ryan kissed was something you’d never experienced before. It was all the evidence you needed to achor the idea that Ryan didn’t need words. His soul was naked when he strummed the steel strings of his guitar, his emotions were on full display in his eyes, and his heart was unmistakably felt in his kiss. It was extraordinary and spellbinding. It was absolute and genuine and something that you wanted to take hold of, grasp tightly, and keep with you. But you knew, instead, eventually, you’ d have to let go. And much sooner, you suspected, than you’d like.
It had been foolish to allow yourself to grow attached to a stranger you may never see again, but you allowed yourself the effort to attempt rationalizing what was serendipitous. It wasn’t lost on you that doing so was a glaring paradox, but what were the chances of Ryan returning to your small town in the first place? You knew now that the reason was Georgie, but that posed another question: what were the chances of you remembering Ryan specifically? Buskers passed through all the time, on their way to or coming from the city. You were accustomed to music floating through the air on your way to the diner when you didn’t have the opening shift, but Ryan’s music wasn’t just a nice tune you’d enjoyed on your way to work. Ryan’s music, his style and way of playing, his voice smooth as honey but rough with passion, wasn’t just music-- it was a force. Ryan in himself was a force, and in the most gentle, remarkable way.
You pulled back reluctantly, your lips on fire and cheeks ablaze. You’d had one hell of a day, and your emotions were anything but regulated. The last thing you wanted to do was something out of your character, to tarnish your time with Ryan by doing something that, in hindsight, wouldn’t hold a meaning. You opened your eyes to see Ryan studying your face, and he smiled that boyish, crooked quirk of his lips— his incredible lips— that made your heart do somersaults.
“I’ve been wantin’ to do that for awhile,” he admitted, a slight chuckle accompanying his confession. You laughed, shaking your head more in disbelief than anything else Ryan brushed his calloused fingertips softly over your forehead, gently curling a few wayward strands of your hair behind your ear.
“How did you wait so long? I’m irresistible.” You dissolved into laughter and rolled your eyes dramatically, taking him by the hand and leading him the few steps back to the old loveseat you’d claimed as yours earlier in the evening. He followed suit easily, pulling you down to sit on one cushion as he sat on the other.
“You are,” he told you, but there was no trace of laughter in his voice. His shadow of a smile held affection instead of humor. “You’ve made my time here more’n just playing a couple songs with Georgie. He’s off somewhere now, an’ me? I’m still here.”
It was a simple thing to say, obvious in nature but not in the way Ryan had said it. The connotation in his voice and what he meant was stunning. For a moment, you were quiet, turning his words over in your head. Then, you grinned shyly.
“You’re something else, Ryan Brenner.” It was something he’d said to you many times, and it had grown into a habit, an inside joke. Turning toward him, you took both of his hands and your expression grew serious. “I owe you an explanation,” you started carefully, “But first I want to thank you for bringing such sunshine into my life since you’ve been here. I always look forward to work, but I found myself not dreading the walk there in the cold. I wanted to make sure to bring you some sort of warmth as thanks, even if it was just a cup of coffee during the day… something pulled me toward you, Ryan, And not for any reason other than how genuine you are. You’re unapologetic in who you are, and there’s no pretense you carry around with you. People like you are all but impossible to come by.”
Now that you were talking, really talking and free of anxiety, you couldn’t stop. Words just came pouring out in bursts with barely a moment between. You could talk to Ryan about how you felt about him for an hour, but you needed to get back to the truth and finish the conversation you’d started earlier. In your moment’s pause,Ryan took advantage of your silence and leaned toward you, pressing his lips to yours again softly, almost as if asking permission.
You hummed slightly against his lips, and you felt the warmth of his palm radiating through the material of your shirt. He pressed his hand to the small of your back, drawing you closer. Again, he gifted you with his mouth against yours, gently coaxing your lips open with his tongue, deepening the kiss. Your arm found its way over his shoulder, your hand curling around his neck and fingers getting lost in the long, dark hair there. You’d easily gotten yourself lost in Ryan, and consciously so. Kissing Ryan felt like home.
When he broke away, his eyes were dark with desire, yet he simply rested his forehead against yours, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes briefly. You slowly withdrew your fingers from his hair, your arm from his neck and shoulder, but Ryan’s hand remained on your back. The pressure was light, however, and he was gently running his fingertips up and down the middle of your back, straight over the line of your spine. You closed your eyes at first, relishing in his touch, feeling goosebumps pop up atop your skin. You opened your eyes as you felt him remove his forehead from yours, and you focused your gaze downward. Turning over his hand, you traced your index fingers over the tattoos, vertical lines between his middle and lower knuckles.
“It was my brother.” Finally confessing your truth, your voice was tiny, barely audible, and you felt the fall of your heart into the pit of your stomach. Nerves and shame burrowed there as well and spread like venom throughout your body. Your posture changed, your shoulders tense as you hunched into yourself unconsciously. A bitter taste was on your tongue, and that lump had lodged itself in your throat again, rendering your voice useless. You swallowed past it again, and you looked up at Ryan, knowing a simple glance could give you the courage you needed. His eyes were full of warmth and gentle encouragement, and his palm flattened over your back, rubbing gentle circles in effort to soothe you.
Noel was at rock bottom. Because you’d been forced to change your locks and not give him a key, he’d resorted to breaking down your door and destroying your apartment searching for money that he either owed or needed to sustain his habit. That strength and effort, that apparent absence of remorse in someone who you’d trusted implicitly for years cut you like a knife, but more than that, it terrified you. Your brother had turned into a stranger.
“I don’t know if I’m safe anymore, Ryan.” You looked up at him in a loss. “I don’t know where to go from here.”
Ryan was not a violent man, but at that moment, he felt a white hot anger for the man who had done this to you, your brother, a man he didn’t even know and had never laid eyes on. A man he hadn’t known existed until two minutes ago. But he was concentrating on what didn’t matter, and he needed to reroute that. You mattered. You were all that mattered to him in that moment, your peace of mind and your safety. Dipping his head, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head and indulged in inhaling the scent of your shampoo.
“We’re gonna figure it, okay? I promise you. I’mma be right here ‘till we do.” He paused and placed his index finger under your chin, drawing your face upward gently and catching your eye. Ryan needed you to see his sincerity. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Y/N. We’re in this together, you and me.”
#a familiar face#aff#part 7#a familar face part 7#aff part 7#ryan brenner#ryan brenner x reader#ryan brenner fanfic#ben barnes fanfiction
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This is where the Dumpsterflames are kindled.
Billy Russo
.......... (The Punisher, 2017-2019)
Caspian X
.......... (Prince Caspian, 2008, Voyage of the Dawn Treader, 2010)
John Whittaker
.......... (Easy Virtue, 2008)
Josh Sawyer
.......... (Locked In, 2010)
Logan Delos
.......... (Westworld, 2016)
Neil McCormick
.......... (Killing Bono, 2011)
Ryan Brenner
.......... (Jackie & Ryan, 2014)
Samuel Adams
.......... (Sons of Liberty, 2015)
.
E V E N T S
MYSTERY DRABBLE EVENT
.
F U N K O P O P C U S T O M S
#this is my dumpster fire#masterlist on fire#ryan brenner x reader#billy russo x reader#john whittaker x reader#sam adams x reader#neil mccormick x reader#samuel adams x reader#logan delos x reader#josh sawyer x reader#benjamin greene x reader#how many characters will i add before this becomes too damn much#it's already too much
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WIP Wednesday
My WIPs include:
Season 2 Billy Russo x reader requested by @something-tofightfor
Benjamin Greene x reader for @obscurilicious
Part 7 of A Familiar Face, Ryan Brenner x reader
Brainstorming and outlining Benjamin Greene x reader for @something-tofightfor and Ryan Brenner x reader for @witchygagirl (and maybe outlining a connecting piece to Swan Song)
Fellow fic writers, tell me about your WIPs?
#wip wednesday#i am lost in a wip hole and its so deep#fellow fic writers#s2 billy russo x reader#benjamin greene x reader#ryan brenner x reader
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Uncovered (Answer to Every Why)
Ryan Brenner/Reader
I had this idea in my head for a moment before actually writing it. It twisted and turned, but here it is - actually written. After the moments of silence, I’m here again. Some of you welcomed me back when I posted the tag list of this blog, and here I am. With something else than just a tag list.
Ryan is a very dear character to me. I thought about writing this for someone else, but Ryan always felt like the right one. His personality suits the form of this. This has more dialogue than description. It might bother some people, but I hope it doesn’t bother too much. I rarely write dialogue based fics or absolutely anything but I wanted to try. And I hope you like what this turned out to be. Thank you for still being here!
This is loosely based on the song called Flag by Sunrise Avenue.
Words: 2503
”Tell me 'bout the road you've chosen
Tell me 'bout the signs of life
Tell me how much you're hoping
That it's gonna be all right
Tell me 'bout the smile you're faking
Show me all the scars you have
But even if your heart is aching
Let me say it's not that bad”
Sunrise Avenue - Flag
~~~~
“I don’t know how to talk… shit like the rest of the people,” Ryan said the word ‘shit’ like he wasn’t sure it was the right one. When he chose to use it anyway, there was a short frown between his brown eyes. He was looking down at his fingers as he took the plectrums off one at a time. “To me, it’s the facial expression. It tells much more about the person than words. People can talk what they want, but their faces reveal them very often. It’s like…” He made a humming sound and moved the plectrums on the floor next to his guitar. They made clicking sounds, ringing in the silent room where the only other sounds were breaths and the rustles of his clothes as he moved to sit more comfortably. “Did you ever play that game as a kid where you whisper something to another kid, and they whisper what they hear and so on?”
“I did,” you said, even though you didn’t know did he want you to say it in the first place. He smiled and it told you he knew without it. Ryan always seemed to know so much about you. Him telling you these things was an expression of trust.
Ryan didn’t pretend. He never lied. He always reacted to people’s emotions and expressions very fast. He was sensitive to every single change of the atmosphere in a way you probably could never understand.
And that was why you were slightly afraid of what kind of secret signals your facial expressions were giving away now.
Ryan never said anything about them if some were visible. He looked at you with a smile on his lips. “It’s quite a lot like the game, talking. Someone tells you something, you hear a different version of it, and it turns upside down when you say it out loud or look for a place for it in your head,” he stopped for a moment. “And when you talk, your face tells its own story. If it’s a story at all, often your words tell the story, and face the truth.”
You looked at the way he eyed you, moved his hands when he spoke. He sat on the floor, legs crossed in front of him, and you sat in front of him. There was his small notebook breaking the emptiness of the meter between you and him. His eyes met yours every now and then; he wasn’t exactly escaping from the contact but didn’t seem to look for it either. He let it happen and go on for a moment until it broke, only to get formed again after a few breaths.
“Am I making you nervous?” Ryan asked after a short moment of silence. You had spent that moment looking at him, the way a little bit too long hair was so stubborn it tried to get to his eyes; how he blinked his brown eyes, now there was this same soft frown between them. “I don’t mean to. Would you prefer to talk about something else?”
You shook your head. “No, you’re not.”
There was a smile on Ryan’s lips, the frown still there. “I didn’t mean to have a monologue. I usually don’t talk this much,” his usual behavior came back, he was this a bit shy but still somehow so confident, creative man. He helped his hair to stay where it was supposed to be, and you couldn’t help but ask.
“Why?” You found yourself smiling when he looked at you like that. Like he was waiting for that question to come but still wasn’t quite ready for it.
He still started to speak. At first, he wasn’t looking at you but then, slowly, his gaze found your eyes again. “I guess it’s that people… Hmm. I’m more afraid of being understood than being misunderstood, kind of. People get embarrassed when I talk so much, so I just choose to,” he shrugged almost tenderly, “stay quiet.”
“With me, you’re never quiet. I don’t even want you to.”
He let out a series of chuckles. “No, I’m not,” he admitted, meeting your eyes again with his own brown ones. There was something in them, like they were twinkling. “What do you think, why is that?”
You knew you couldn’t answer that. You shook your head ever so softly as if you were trying not to get embarrassed yourself. The way he looked at you and leaned closer to take his notebook from the floor, still glancing at you with this playful grin on the corners of his lips made something run under your skin.
<><>
“Even if we know everything is going to end, we can’t hide from the fact or the eventuality, but we still shouldn’t stay to dwell in that miserable feeling. As an atmosphere, it’s frightening. All the people we know could be demons from the fourth circle of Hell, but would we know about that? Hardly. I look through the naked branches of the trees that let their leaves drop in the winds of autumn and I often stop to think…”
Ryan fell silent. His face stopped, but hands didn’t.
You looked at him helping you to dry the dishes with a towel. His hand was still moving the cloth against the hard skin of the plate. Your hands were still wet from the dish water all the way up to the half of your arms, and the droplets made small sounds when they met the waves in the sink.
“What do you stop to think?” you asked softly, leaving space for a shake of his head, a small word telling he wasn’t going to say anything, some other form of refusal.
None of that came. There were thoughts running somewhere behind his eyes, you could see that in the way he looked at the small waves that slowed down in the sink and eventually stopped. So did the running behind his eyes.
“That it’s so easy to say you want peace and quiet, but we’re all so alone in this world. In the end, everything is alone. But I see how the branches touch the other, even when they don’t have leaves anymore – maybe that’s when they hold each other tighter. I feel how my feet touch the ground and, in a way, I’m part of it. Part of it – and through that, I’m not alone, the ground is not alone. But still,” he set the towel down on the counter, “we all are still so alone.”
You let the water go. When you stood side by side with Ryan, whose brown eyes looked at you now, you didn’t see sadness in the eyes. He had said face tells more than words. His face really did, his eyes more than any other; the way his brows moved above them as he was waiting for you to react with words, even though you were sure he already knew what you were going to say.
That was it with Ryan.
He always knew.
It didn’t feel wrong. For once in your life, someone knew and listened to you. Ryan always stopped to listen to you, made sure to tell you he was present – he often kept his eyes on you when you talked, still not staring. That was what he was doing now. You just weren’t talking. Or maybe you were. Your lips just weren’t moving.
“Do you feel lonely?” you asked.
Ryan shook his head.
“I’m not lonely,” there was a second-long smile on his lips. “It’s different to be alone than to be lonely. It’s the same; you cannot know what someone really thinks when they say something. You cannot ever know what they think. No one can ever know what you really feel, think… Because everyone hears things differently, everyone makes their own totality of things, fills the gaps with their own mist and dust. Still, where we are going, we need other people. Because there is understanding when there is a common melody. People chime, vibrate. And this all makes the inevitable ending even more frightening. Because in the end… We all face the end alone.”
“Why do you talk about the end?” you asked as you started to walk towards the table by the window. Ryan walked after you, sat across from you and drowned his gaze in the darkness behind the window. He was able to see it past the reflection of the lights from the other side of the kitchen.
“No matter what we think or wait, it’s going to come anyway. We have no power to affect on it,” he was sitting down as he spoke, the chair creaking as he pulled it closer to the table. “It’s so inevitable and therefore uncertain. Not today or tomorrow and yet, this moment might be the last. Your face might be the last one I’ll ever see,” saying that, he turned to see you instead of the dark evening.
You had your hands on the table, the left thumb in the right fist.
“It wouldn’t bother me if you were the last thing I ever saw,” you said quietly, voice barely audible.
Ryan smiled. The smile always so warm and calming.
“But it would bother me to face the end today,” you continued.
You had come to notice that when you said something like that, Ryan’s expression changed. You couldn’t quite place it to any reaction you had gotten from him to words that weren’t about him. He didn’t look at you anymore; something he often did after your words about him, to him, so deep and meaningful.
“I’m sorry for scaring you…”
“You don’t scare me.”
“Then why do you look at me like that?”
You were silent. He had an answer to everything, but you – you couldn’t answer to his question.
There weren’t words clear enough for the answer. Not ones you’d be satisfied with.
You stayed silent. Your gaze rose from the skin of the table up to his eyes. He looked at you.
Ryan smiled.
<><>
After three weeks you started to miss Ryan’s thoughts you couldn’t quite get but loved listening to. You never knew how to answer to them without making him feel embarrassed for sharing them.
You felt you should’ve been able to say more.
The end credits of a movie ran on your TV screen, and you took your phone. You lifted your legs under you from the floor and picked Ryan’s number.
“You said the end is coming anyway, that we’re all alone in front of it. That facial expressions tell more than words ever could. You said the point is not to be understood but be heard,” the last one was your own conclusion, something you had sewed from the words he had said.
If you had only seen how he smiled when you said that. He was walking through a street with his backpack and guitar, there was no one else on the same street with him, no other than wind in the trees and the leaves dancing without sorrow from having to give space for the new ones that would grow on the branches next spring.
“Sounds like something I could have said, yes.”
“Not only could have said, Ryan, you definitely said all that. I was there.”
“I know you were.”
“I hope you haven’t forgotten.”
“No, I haven’t forgotten. What’s on your mind?”
You took a breath before saying it. “If you think the end is coming anyway and we’re all alone, why do you do what you do?”
The sounds of his footsteps were clearly audible to you as Ryan walked, and so was his breathing. Sounded like he had been walking for a long time without stopping.
“Why do I do what I do?” he said after a thoughtful silence.
“Do you think there’s a reason behind everything?”
“I believe in reasons. I believe we all are meant to do things and get where we are meant to be, however we just can get there. That’s what I ask myself sometimes, the place I’m gonna go next and how am I gonna get there. There are places to go for everyone, things to do. The end should never stop us from doing that. It’s uncertain, it may never even come, it doesn’t matter what I believe in.”
“Of course it matters,” you insisted, suddenly a little mad.
“I’m saying it doesn’t matter in this. The end is or isn’t, whatever I believe makes no difference.”
“If it doesn’t matter, why do you focus on these things? So… melancholic things?”
“Why do I make music, sing songs if the end is coming? I want people to forget misery and tell… I guess my soul is a bit melancholic. I’m not sad - but I see all kinds of things on my trips here and there. If someone can get something from what I sing about, then I think I have succeeded.”
You frowned. “But do you ever focus on anything good and beautiful?”
“I do. I believe there’s goodness in everyone, we all are honest and good in our hearts. There is empathy, there is love…”
“Why don’t you ever sing about those things?”
“Am I not singing about empathy and love to you?”
You blushed. He didn’t sound insulted, he was actually… like he was happy to have this conversation with you. He was still walking, you could hear it, but you could also hear the smile in his voice.
“You are…”
“Yeah, I sing about things that mean to me,” Ryan’s voice was warm and tender. “I told you I rarely talk because people get embarrassed if I talk too much.” You could hear him finally stopping to breathe.
There was a knock on the door, and you got up from the sofa, taking Ryan with you as you went to answer.
“That’s because you should talk more about beautiful things, not about end and silence and destruction,” you took a hold of the handle of the door to open it. There was a warm chuckle on the other end of the line.
“About things like you?” he asked and smiled to you.
Ryan stood there in front of you with a tender look in his eyes, phone still against his ear. He slowly put it down and back in his pocket.
“You think I am – ,“ you didn’t get a chance to end the sentence. Ryan took one long step to get in front of you. His hands cup your jawline and lips found yours when you put your own phone down, wrapping your arms around Ryan’s body that had been touched by wind, pushed yourself against him to return the kiss.
As a moment, it wasn’t earth-moving or larger than life, but it was warm and real. And that was the reason why you both took a tight hold of it, let it erase all the thoughts and whispers and turn the unavoidable end into a start.
*****
Tag List: @padfootagain @billrussos @jennareedus @mamaraptor @suchatinyinfinity @delicatelilyflower @whostheblondegirl @carol-damn-vers @dylanobrusso @keithseabrook27 @something-tofightfor @shinebrightlikeafanbase @drinix
Let me know if you want to be added or removed!
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Last call for the Ben Barnes Secret Santa fic exchange!!!
Sign ups close at midnight tonight so we can pair everyone up so this is your last chance to sign up!!
Link to the rules and sign up post here!! 💖💖💖
Please do join us cause we would love to have as many authors as possible participate!! So far we have 26 people signed up and we’d love to have more!!! If you’ve already signed up, feel free to reblog this too and tag your favorite authors to spread the word!!!
#ben barnes#billy russo x reader#logan delos x reader#prince caspian x reader#benjamin greene x reader#the darkling x reader#general kirigan x reader#Aleksander morozova x reader#dorian gray x reader#nick tortano x reader#ryan brenner x reader
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Ryan Brenner’s Soulmate
Another one of my soulmate oneshots for my anniversary!
Trope: They are only able to see in black and white until they meet their soulmate.
Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!
*gif not mine*
Enjoy!
*****
The world in black and white wasn’t as bad as some people made it out to be. Granted some of that came from the frustration and stigma that surrounded people who could not see in color.
Somewhere in the world you knew that your soulmate was also seeing in black and white. That helped you accept the reality a lot easier than most people in your situation. You weren’t alone in the world, not really.
As you pulled on your uniform for the diner, you wondered what your soulmate thought about the black and white life they lived in. Did they dream of the day they would see colors? Did they wonder what you looked like? Did they struggle with their black and white life like you knew some people did?
Did they even care?
Not everyone wanted a soulmate. You’d read plenty of stories about a person who would meet their soulmate and, with their world now lit up in every color of the rainbow, would disappear without a trace.
The walk to the diner was mostly in a wooded area, but you didn’t mind. Few cars went down the road that led to your neighborhood so you walked along the street, your eyes eating up the scenery. A game you sometimes played with yourself is naming the colors that you knew existed in the world but that you wouldn’t be able to pick out when you first got your colored vision.
Red. Green. Blue. Purple. Yellow. Orange.
Then there would be other colors, like magenta and violet and seafoam. You knew the names of all of the colors and you couldn’t wait until you could identify them all.
The diner that you worked at was called Mikey’s. The sign was large and flickered. You were told the background of the sign was green, but of course you just had to take their word for it. It was tucked into a little side street but it was usually pretty busy. This close to the train station, you got a lot of drifters and tourists.
People loved coming to small towns. You didn’t understand the appeal. You’d leave if you could.
Today the diner was pretty quiet, a few people sprinkled around different tables and booths. Once you were inside, you moved around comfortably. Tea for table three, extra fries for booth six, more silverware for table seven, glasses of water for table one, bring food out to booth five.
It was something you had done for years and it only required half of your attention. The rest of you looked around for any of the new people in the diner. Would they be your soulmate? But every time you met their eyes and everything stayed dim, you felt that flicker in the pit of your stomach.
You wanted to meet your soulmate for more than just the colors that would come. You wanted to meet them because you were ready to fall in love, you yearned for it. How long until you would get that chance?
The day ticked on more and more until it was time to close up. You swept the floor, stacked the chairs, and told Mikey you’d see him tomorrow. The walk home was dark and lonely, but you were used to it.
Today was not the day that you’d meet your soulmate but maybe tomorrow.
Just like always, you hoped your soulmate had a good evening.
------
The diner was fairly empty as the clock said that it was almost time to close up. You moved around the tables and cleared off what you could, smiling at the regulars and checking on the people you didn’t recognize. It had been a long day and you were ready to get off of your feet.
The bell over the door made you look up. A man walked in with a hat pulled down over his eyes, a bag on his back and a guitar case hanging from his hand. You watched the other waitress greet him and get his order.
“He’s handsome,” Kelly said as she joined you on the other side of the counter, her eyes darting over to the man who was curled into himself a bit. “Kinda quiet, but I don’t mind that.”
You flicked her wrist with a laugh.
“I’m guessing you aren’t seeing the rainbow,” you said, using the phrase most people used for when they met their soulmate.
“No, but I’d still like to see more of him.”
Kelly was relentless. A lot of people didn’t mind sleeping with someone even if they weren’t soulmates, but that had never been what you wanted to do. You preferred to wait until you either found someone you loved, color or no, or found your soulmate.
A little while later, Kelly had stepped out back for a smoke break before it was time to close up. You watched a few of the last people leave. It left an older couple in the back and the newbie. You hovered near the counter, not wanting to step on Kelly’s toes. You’d seen her flirting, but she hadn’t seemed to have much luck.
You didn’t want to flirt with the newcomer, but you did want to check if he needed a top up on his coffee. Maybe a to go cup because he looked exhausted.
With one of the to go cups in hand, you went to the coffee maker and poured it in. You’d leave room for sugar and creamer, but you grabbed one of the cardboard sleeves and a lid. Then you headed over to where the newcomer was sitting.
“Thought you could use a pick me up,” you said as you bent down to grab a few napkins to wipe up a few droplets that you spilled. “It’s on the house. You just look like you’re…”
You met his eyes as you handed over the cup and the moment your eyes met his, you felt like you were in the middle of an explosion. Color. The world was washed in brightness, despite the late hour.
The color of the booths was hideous. Mikey really needed to change that.
“Oh,” you breathed as you put the cup down and slumped against the counter. “Uh, hi? I’m uh… I’m Y/N.”
The man seemed just as shocked as you, but his eyes weren’t moving over the diner like yours had been. No, he was looking at you. You looked down and winced when you realized that your uniform was a pretty ugly color as well.
“I’m Ryan,” he said, his voice soft and low. It made you look back up at him. “I’m… I was heading out tonight, but I think maybe I should stay.”
You laughed and closed your eyes, feeling your heart race in your chest.
“I hope you do.”
------
Kelly was disappointed that the newcomer was spoken for, but she wasn’t upset. In fact she squealed so loud that Mikey came running thinking that she’d seen a mouse.
Ryan had laughed, the sound so perfect that it melted you down to your toes.
------
Mikey gave you the next day off so that you and Ryan could get to know each other. You took him around town, showing him the sights of the place where you had been born and raised. The two of you talked for hours, learning as much about each other as you could in such a short time.
He was a drifter, hopping trains around the country. He didn’t have a permanent address, didn’t have a permanent anything. You felt the apprehension of it in your chest, the knowledge that he would be leaving at some point hanging over your head as the two of you spent the day together.
He noticed it as well.
“You’re worried about something,” he said as he sat down next to you on a bench, both of you surrounded by what felt like a hundred different colors in the middle of the park.
“You’ll be leaving,” you said quietly as you looked down at your hands. The hands of a waitress who had never left her hometown. “You’ll get on a train and go to the next city or town and you’ll… maybe you won’t come back. There’s not much here to catch the interest of someone who can go anywhere he wants to.”
Ryan’s dark brown eyes moved over you carefully. You’d looked up the colors the night before because you wanted to know what color his eyes were. They almost looked black, a color you had become more than accustomed to.
They were brown. Dark, dark brown.
He reached out one hand to cover yours. You stared down at the tattoos on his fingers until his other hand tilted your face up.
“I’ve been traveling around the country because I never felt like I had a home. Didn’t think I’d ever meet my soulmate and I’d live in a black and white world. Why would I leave when I have you here?” Before you could reiterate that your town was small, he shook his head and squeezed your hand. “Wherever we are? That’s the most interesting place in the world to me.”
You felt warmth flood you at his words and the sincerity in his voice. You eased your head down to his shoulder and closed your eyes.
------
The bedroom was dark. At night, with barely any light filtering in through your curtains, your room reminded you of the time before you met Ryan. Black, white, shades of grey; nothing was distinguishable in the night.
Except now you knew that your bedding was yellow and violet, your walls were cream, the painting on the wall showed dozens of colors that could be found in a forest. You knew that the guitar case that was propped up in the chair in the corner had stickers on it, each one more colorful than the last.
You rolled over to face Ryan. His eyes were closed, his chest moving up and down with his slow breaths. It had been two months since you’d seen the rainbow. It seemed that he had meant it when he said that he wasn’t going to go anywhere else. He did odd jobs around town to afford a room in the one motel that only had five rooms available.
These days he stayed the night with you more often than not. You were starting to think he might as well stop renting the room at the motel and just move in.
His tattoos drew your eyes. There wasn’t any color on most of them, black ink only. You had traced your fingers over most of them plenty of times already, learned the curves and lines of them so that you could probably draw them with your eyes closed.
“You should be asleep,” he said as he rolled over and draped his arm over your waist, tugging you in close to him. “It’s late. You’ve got a shift tomorrow.”
You snuggled into his side, your hand over his chest. The skin under your hand was warm to the touch.
“I want to travel with you,” you said quietly, earning a surprised noise from him. “I’ve never left this zip code for more than a day trip. I’m not saying we have to go around the country, but let’s at least go away for a long weekend.”
Ryan’s eyes opened as he curled you in closer to him. Your faces were a few inches apart. He stared at you for a long moment in which the silence stretched on for what seemed like forever.
“If you wanna travel around the country together, I’m not going to say no. I just don’t want you to do it because it’s what you think I want.”
You propped your head up on your hand as you looked down at Ryan. He looked so good like this, his dark hair falling over his forehead and his face relaxed, sleep still tugging at him.
“There’s so much to see,” you said quietly into the dark of the room, “and I want to see it with you.”
After another long silent moment, Ryan tugged you in for a kiss.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll get a car, pack some bags, and go explore.” He rolled the two of you over so that he could curl himself around you. “Wherever you are, that’s home to me.”
You closed your eyes and let your body relax. It would take some planning, but you knew it would be worth it. The world was full of colors and you wanted to see every one of them with Ryan at your side.
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