#Ryan Brenner fanfic

[absentmindeduniverse]

I'm never getting tired of how you write Ben Barnes' characters especially the softies 🥰🥰🥰

Cute Alphabet : Ryan Brenner

Here are the answers to my cute alphabet for Ryan! Hope you like it, and thank you for requesting it :)

Afficher davantage

[fific7]

(My photo edit)

ℝ𝕪𝕒𝕟 𝔹𝕣𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝑀𝒾𝓃𝒾-𝒮𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈

Open Roads (WIP)

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Clarity

500 followers/500 word drabble #1

A/N: Kicking off the requests with the second of two sent in by @suchatinyinfinity - a true testimony of how I can simply never write anything in order. Thank you for this one, Dani. It gave me some ideas for an expanded look at this part of Ryan’s journey. Like I need more things on my “to write” list.

Standing on the rear deck of the Eliza Jane in bright yellow rubberized outerwear and a pair of tall orange boots, Ryan gaped at the open water that surrounded him. Cold salt spray struck his cheeks as the wind flattened the left side of his hood against his ear, the few longer pieces of hair that stuck out from beneath the brim of his hat fluttering against his forehead. He could already feel his lips going raw, the deep chill of cool air on damp skin biting into his flesh. But neither sensation was enough to pull him out of his almost trancelike state.

I don’t know what I thought it’d be like but-

The boat rocked under his feet as it hit a small wave, causing him to step backwards and widen his stance. Bearing his weight down through his thighs the way he had learned to do on the trains, he reached out with one gloved hand and grabbed onto one of the nearby cod pots for extra stability, the black rubber squelching against the wet steel.

I never… I didn't… Damn.

He realized in that moment, that he should never have thought it to be like anything. He had grown up with the Atlantic for a backyard, the angry water always churning, pounding into the sand to show its strength. He had spent a whole summer on the shores of Oregon, and was familiar with the deep, saturated blue of the Pacific, the shock of white foam capping each wave as though shouting to the planet “This is the color of water!”

But the Bering Sea had nothing to prove to anyone. It’s steely waters pitched and heaved however they pleased. It touched the sky but never blended with it, seeming to shape the curve of the Earth instead of the other way around. It was pure power.

Since arriving in Alaska a few days prior, Ryan had been in awe of the wild beauty all around him; The snow capped peaks in the distance poking sharply into the clouds, the dense green canopy of the forest, his first moose sighting, the massive animal’s hulking size making his eyebrows jump and a surprised “Oh, shit!” slip out in a laugh, the colors of the clouds as the sun rose and set, the velvety blue-black backdrop of night and the impossible number of stars.

He’d seen mountains and forests, all kinds of wildlife and more sunsets in splendid layers of light than he could count. He’d seen oceans before. But none of them had been these mountains, those trees, this sea.

Aunt Holly had asked him, the last time he’d been home, how long he planned on traveling. There was no judgement in her question, only curiosity. At the time he didn’t know how to answer, leaning his head back against the wooden porch post. But on just his first day at sea he knew what he would tell her when he returned.

Until I see it all.

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the tags please feel free to let me know! :)

*And just as a reminder, requests for this event are open through 4/6/21*

Tags: @something-tofightfor​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity​ @malionnes @thesumofmychoices​ @gollyderek​ @pheedraws​ @beautifuldesastre​ @alraedesigns @dearmarii​ @fific7 @traeumerinsworld​ @obscurilicious​ @luminex3 @bisexual-space-slut @vetseras

[illshowyourhurricanes]

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.”

[benbarnesfrustration]

Cady’s Awakening, Part 1

A Ben Barnes Character Fic.

A Ryan Brenner x Cady (third person) story. This is a very late contribution to @banditthewriter​‘s Ben Barnes Bingo Challenge.  Life got away from me for a bit, so I’m posting this first installment to hold myself accountable to finish. Enjoy!

Synopsis: Cady is a carefree girl who longs for the open road. Does she find her counterpart in a tall, dark hitchhiker?

Rated PG. We haven’t gotten into much fluff yet, but this is a squeaky clean as it gets.

Cady heaved the last sack of grain into the back of her pickup truck, landing it with a heavy whump. She stepped back and wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow. It was usually hot in Timbercreek Canyon, but in July it was damned hot, and the sun was relentless.

About 15 miles south of Amarillo, Timbercreek Canyon is a veritable oasis in the arid Texas desert, providing much-needed irrigation to the many ranches that have sprung up as a result.  Cady’s family ran one of them, Palomino Ridge Ranch. There, horses, cattle, pigs and chickens were raised and sold.  Cady had been helping out at the ranch since she could walk, and stood to inherit from her parents, as she was their only child. However, Cady had her doubts. She’d barely been out of Texas except for ranch business, and wasn’t sure she wanted a future as a rancher without experiencing more of the great wide world.

Cady’s father was sending her to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, in the shadow of the Smoky Mountains. She was to deliver several bushels of rye meal and sorghum to a few stops along the way, and upon arrival, collect a thoroughbred stallion to bring back for breeding. It would be a long trip, at least eighteen hours each way, not including stops, but Cady was looking forward to it. She loved the open road and the chance to get out of Texas and see more of the country, and having the wind in her hair as she sang along loudly to her favorite country and blues standards.

She loaded up the rest of her supplies, waved goodbye to her folks, and set out. It was only noon, so she should be able to get a couple of deliveries out of the way before she would need to stop for the night. She drove along, singing and humming along to her tunes; perfectly content.  A few hours later, not long after she made her first drop off, she was surprised to see what appeared to be a young man in the distance, walking along the road. Texas was flat, so she could see him quite a ways out, and she saw him turn and stick out his thumb when he heard the sound of her engine. I’ll be damned, she thought to herself. You don’t see too many hitchhikers around here. She felt a pang of pity for the man. It was hot as hell out here, and there wasn’t another town for miles and miles.  Normally she wouldn’t entertain such a notion as communicating with a hitchhiker, but she legitimately worried about the guy’s safety, so she slowed as she approached him. 

She pulled over to the side of the road, slid over to the passenger side, and leaned out of the window.  She was struck dumb for a moment when she looked the man full in the face. Well that is one good looking fella, she thought. Dark scruffy hair and dark eyes, he was quite literally the definition of “tall dark and handsome,” only he looked like he’d been sleeping rough for a while. He smiled warmly at her, and pushed up the brim of his baseball cap to better see her. Cady noticed he had tattoos on his fingers and arms. I wonder where else he’s got them, she thought devilishly, before pushing that thought aside.  “Miss,” he greeted her politely.

“Well you’re taking your ass in your hands setting out on this road on a day like this,” she chided, but without real bite. He smiled wider, relaxing at her joke.

“I’m afraid I didn’t think this through,” he replied, his smile touching his eyes. He had a vague drawl that Cady couldn’t quite place. Is that West Virginia? Kentucky? He pulled off his hat and swiped his forearm across his sweaty brow. “I don’t suppose you can let me climb in the back of your truck and ride along with you a while? The breeze would do me good.”

Cady thought a moment. She was by no means a clueless girl, and knew that picking up a hitchhiker was a reckless thing to do. But he had kindness in his eyes, and there was just no faking that. “You can ride in the cab with me,” she said. “Get you out of the sun and into the AC for a bit.”

The man nodded, his face more somber. “Thank you miss,” he replied softly. “I’m so grateful.”  He swung his case– which Cady was only now realizing was a guitar case– into the back of the truck along with a worn backpack, and hopped into the truck. Cady cranked the AC, and the man slumped back, a blissful smile on his lips. It made him look quite angelic. “Ahhhh,” the man sighed. “This is nice.”

Cady handed over a bottle of water. “Here, swig on this. You’re probably pretty dehydrated. I’m Cady, by the way.”  The man took the bottle of water with a nod. “Thank you Cady. I’m Ryan. Pleased to meet you.”  Cady smiled at the man– Ryan.  “Now you just sit back and relax,” she said. “How far do you need to go?”  Ryan shrugged. “I don’t really have a destination. I sort of just…go.”

Cady blinked in surprise. Was this guy a drifter? A homeless? While she was surprised, she was no more concerned than she was a moment before. She wondered if she was being very stupid.  

“You just set out and see where the road takes you huh? I kinda like that. Sounds freeing.”

Ryan smiled. “It is, but it’s not without its challenges for sure. Like the pickle I found myself in today…I must say thank you again.”

Cady smiled. “Think nothing of it. I would just be grateful if you would repay my kindness by not stabbing me,” she laughed as she put the truck into gear. “You don’t seem the sort, but you never know.”  

Ryan laughed in return. “Don’t worry Cady, I don’t intend to.”

                                                      *****

They rode on for hours, the time falling away quickly as they talked. Conversation was easy with them. They shared a similar temperament; an ease of manner, and a curiosity about the world. Cady learned that Ryan was a musician, and he usually busked or looked for gigs while he was on the road for extra cash. Cady told Ryan all about her family and ranching, but also spoke of her doubts when it came to her own future in the field. Ryan listened intently, nodding along, contributing platitudes where necessary.  As the sun waned toward evening, Cady pulled into a Waffle House parking lot.  “You hungry?” She asked.

“Starving,” he replied with a smile.  

“Come on then,” Cady said. “I’ll buy you some dinner.”

Ryan’s smile faltered. “I have some money,” he said softly. 

Cady turned to look at him. “I wasn’t suggesting you didn’t,” she replied brightly. “Only that I’d like to buy dinner. Now come on!”

Ryan followed her into the restaurant, where they both soon tucked into breakfast for dinner, as it was what Waffle House was known for; eggs, pancakes, grits, hash browns, bacon, the whole nine yards. They spoke as much as they could as they tucked away the meal.  When they were done, Cady and Ryan walked back to the truck. She paused at the door. “Ryan,” she asked, “what’s the plan? I’m heading all the way to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, and I have another ten plus hours on the road ahead of me. I was planning to stop for the night in a couple of hours. I usually just pull off onto a secluded road and sleep in the truck, but you’re welcome to sleep in the back of the truck.

Cady felt a small amount of apprehension creep into her mind. Not because she was worried about Ryan, but because….she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. But Ryan gave her a funny feeling in the pit of her tummy. The way his big dark eyes locked onto hers while they spoke over dinner. The way his smile lit up his face. The way his soul seemed to speak to hers.

She realized with a jolt that the apprehension she was feeling was a fear that they would part ways. That he would be gone from her life. Oh shit– Cady thought to herself. Am I falling for this guy? 

She waited for him to respond, as he had paused to think– or perhaps to calculate a response.

“Cady–” he started, paused, then started over. “Cady, I don’t want to impose, but I’d like to go all the way with you.”

They both seemed to realize how that sounded at the same time. Cady stifled a giggle while Ryan looked horrified. “I mean! Oh lord. No. I mean, I’d like to travel as far as you have to go, if that’s alright with you.” He put his face in his hands and groaned.  Cady laughed. “Relax, I’d be happy to have you.” She put a hand on his arm. “I know that wasn’t what you meant.” 

Would it be so bad if it was?

                                                      *****

They rode on in contented silence for a while before Cady turned to Ryan and asked, “so I’ve been trying to figure out where you’re from, but I just can’t place your accent. I give up,” she chuckled.

“Utah,” Ryan replied. “That’s where I grew up and sort of what I consider home base, but I don’t like to stay in one place too long.”

“Do you still have friends and family there?”

“Some,” Ryan nodded. “A lot of folks have moved on. I’m from a small town and there isn’t much opportunity there.” He shrugged. “It’s beautiful though, surrounded by snow capped mountains and lush forests.”

Cady laughed. “That’s basically the opposite of where I live! It’s the canyonlands of central Texas, practically the desert. Hot, flat, and dry. I spent my childhood chasing lizards and roadrunners.”

“Well we have some of that in Utah, but not the part where I’m from,” Ryan added. “Jumping into creeks and riding horses was what I got up to as a kid.”

“Horses, well that’s something we have in common then,” Cady grinned.  “That’s actually the purpose of going to Kentucky. Sell grain along the way, come home with a new thoroughbred.”

“That must be exciting,” Ryan replied. “Seeing the country and petting horses sounds pretty great.”

“It is, but–” Cady broke off, thinking.  “I’m still doing a job. I’m not free to do as I like. Like you.”

“True,” Ryan said, “but it’d be nice to have someone to go home to. A real family, a place I wanted to put down roots. Now, whenever I’m home, I just can’t wait to hit the road again.”

“So you have nobody that makes you feel like you’re home?”

Ryan turned to fix Cady with his dark eyes. There was something about his spirit that spoke directly to her soul.

“Not yet,” he replied, and smiled.

(to be continued…)

@banditthewriter��

[something-tofightfor]

Neon Lights Part 8

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 3059

Rating: M (language, sexual tension, bed sharing)

Summary: The next morning; it’s as simple as that.

Parts 1-7 can be found on my 500 follower event masterlist (at the bottom of my main Masterlist page). Thank you for reading. If you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know. 

Tagging: @ooo-barff-ooo @agent-bossypants @likethetailofacomet

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that someone was touching your face. You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, finding a pair of brown ones only a few inches from yours. “Mornin’” His voice. God. Ryan’s voice was still thick with sleep, and he was running the backs of his fingers over your cheek, stroking the skin gently. “How’d you sleep?” You closed your eyes again, stretching out, and realized that your legs were tangled together with Ryan’s beneath the sheets. Oh.

 “I needed it.” You cleared your throat, figuring that since he was touching you, he wouldn’t stop you from returning the affection. Your fingertips danced over his cheek, touching the birthmark under his eye, pushing the hair back from his forehead and he smiled at you as you did it, his face clearly visible in the light that was peeking around the corners of the closed drapes. “I was out cold.” Swallowing, you leaned in, kissing him on the mouth quickly, wanting to linger but not daring to. It’s a new day. When you pulled back, you saw that Ryan’s eyes were filled with sadness, but he blinked twice, and when he opened them again, the look was replaced with one of contentment.

“I slept better than I have in months. This is the most comfortable bed I’ve been in in years.” He swallowed thickly, this time leaning in himself to capture your mouth, the kiss long and slow, his hand still on your face and his leg tightening against yours. “I think it was the company, though,” he whispered, lips hovering above yours. “I think it was you.” He can’t say things like that. Ryan’s lips moved to your forehead again and then he sat up, disentangling himself from your legs and stretching his arms above his head. You couldn’t help but stare at him, especially as he stood up and ran his hands through his hair, the muscles of his stomach and back flexing.

  You licked your lips unconsciously - how could you help it? The man - one of the most gorgeous men you’d ever seen in your entire life - had sat up in your bed, where he’d spent the night, and he had been a complete gentleman, not trying to push you, not trying to assert himself, not expecting anything from you. You’d woken up to him touching you, to him staring at you as if he had nowhere else or better to be, no other need in the world except to put his hands on you. You did it this time, you let yourself get attached to someone that’s going to be gone in only a few hours. He moved to the end of the bed and looked over his shoulder at you, smirking.

“What are you lookin’ at? I thought you didn’t wanna go to the show with the half naked men…” He turned to face you, still smirking and locked his hands behind his head, wiggling his hips as you groaned, rolling onto your back. You pulled the blanket over your face, his name leaving your lips in a whine, a slight giggle following it. That’s going to haunt my dreams in the best way. You felt the mattress dip again as he climbed back into the bed, felt his weight settle down over your thighs and then the blanket was pulled down from your face, Ryan kneeling over you. “See somethin’ you like?”

  You stared up at him, eyes wide, and pulled your hands out from under the blanket, feeling bold enough to touch his chest, your hands pressing against the solid muscle as he leaned down closer to you, resting his elbows on either side of your body, hands holding onto your shoulders. “Yeah. Maybe. A little.” He smirked back at you, dropping his head and placing a kiss against your throat as he settled his hips against you, rolling them slightly. You had a sudden flash of images in your head - imagining you and Ryan in a different bed, in a different city, the same easy banter between the two of you, your hands moving to his hips and then sliding lower, his hands roaming across your body. You imagined what it would be like to see him daily, to hear about his life, to be a part of his adventures and he a part of yours. You imagined what it would feel like to be beneath him - to be on top of him, the way he was with you, but with no blanket or clothing between the two of you. “Or a lot,” you continued, your own voice a whisper against the side of his face, so quiet that you hoped he wouldn’t hear it.

  You hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant to think it, knowing what you did about him and about yourself, but again, you weren’t surprised that it was how you felt, nor were you surprised that you’d vocalized it - just that you’d done it in his presence. What’s the worst that could happen? Him leaving? He’s already gonna do that.

 “Yeah?” He pulled his face away from yours, looking down at you as his hair hung over his forehead, his tongue moving over his lower lip briefly. As you searched his face, nodding, your eyes found a slight curl of hair behind his ear, landed on the part of his beard that was thinner than everywhere else, saw the deep color of his eyes and the tic of his jaw. “Yeah, me too.” Ryan’s voice was stronger than yours had been and he stared directly into your eyes as he spoke, no hesitation. “But I meant what I said to you. I don’t do the one night thing. And even if I did, I wouldn’t with you.” You felt a deep hurt in your chest, felt yourself grow cold. What? “You deserve more. You deserve every night, not a night or two in a hotel room. I just met you, and I know that.”

 He was touching your face again, his eyes still warm. “I know, Ryan.” You smiled sadly. “It’s better that way, right?” He nodded, hesitated, and then nodded quickly, raising an eyebrow before he leaned down, asking your permission to kiss you again. You tilted your head up, and the next few minutes passed slowly, your hands roaming over his bare back, his fingers stroking your arms. The attraction was there - apparent between the two of you in the way that you were touching each other, the way that you kissed - lazily, as if you’d known each other for years, but you knew that he was keeping a handle on things in the way that he was holding his body over yours, away from it, not giving in and pressing against you, chest to chest, not dropping his face or his mouth any lower than your neck, keeping his hands away from the soft flesh of your chest or your hips.

He climbed off of you and off of the bed, and you grinned to yourself as you caught your breath, watching him adjust the front of his underwear as he walked into the bathroom. Can’t control that, though.

He came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, dressed in his jeans and white shirt, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth as he brushed, and you’d opened the curtains, picking up your phone to scroll through messages and alerts you’d missed. Amy had apologized, Josie had texted again to make sure that you’d gotten back, and you had a few emails from potential clients, seeing as it was almost 2:30 in the afternoon, and everyone else had already been up for hours.

  You were in the middle of responding to Josie when Ryan spoke to you after retreating into the bathroom to spit toothpaste into the sink. “Hey.” You looked up at him, the blanket pooled around your waist and he sniffed, coming around to sit on the edge of your side of the bed. “Were you serious about me stayin’ with you again tonight?” You nodded slowly, uncertainty in your eyes. I thought you were leaving today. “Since I didn’t have a full night last night, I figured I’d stay one more night and try to make up for it.” He rubbed his face. “You can say no, I just thought….” You assured him that it was fine, that he could stay, and the look of gratitude on his face was enough to make your chest feel tight again. “Alright. Well, I’m gonna go and get my pack then, go find a laundromat and do some laundry.” He licked his lips. “Can I leave my guitar here?”

  “Yeah. Of course you can, Ryan.” He smiled again as you reached over, rummaging through your bag and digging out your room key. “Here. Take this.” He looked surprised. “I might not be here when you get back, I’m going to go out and take some pictures before the sun goes down, so you can let yourself in. I’ll get a new one from the front desk.” He reached over, taking the key from your hands and tucking it into his pocket as he stood up. “If I don’t see you before you head out for tonight, will you be in the same place?” He nodded thoughtfully, looking at you before stepping into the short hallway that led out the door.

  “I will be. I’ll be lookin’ for you.” You ducked your head, returning to your phone with a smile on your face. But you looked back up as you heard him walk back to you, leaning down quickly to tangle his fingers in your hair and kiss you again - hard and fast and leaving you breathless when he pulled away. “Have a good afternoon.” He quickly made his way back across the room, and when you heard the door shut behind him, clicking locked, you dropped your phone, hitting your head against the plush headboard and covering your face with your hands. Fuck. 

---

You had made your way all the way down to the far end of the Strip past Mandalay Bay, your camera bag slung over your shoulder. You didn’t mind walking, didn’t mind the heat (though you’d put sunscreen on your shoulders after changing for the day, wearing a strapless dress that hit just below the knee), didn’t mind the large crowds or the bright sun. You’d spent a lot of time in front of New York, New York and inside of the MGM Grand before making your way down the sidewalk toward the Welcome to Las Vegas sign, your ultimate goal. You visited each time you were in the city; it was a ritual for you and the light was perfect for photos. You knew that a lot of what you were taking would be unusable, no different from the other thousands of pictures that people took each day in the city, but each time you pointed the camera and pushed the shutter button, you hoped for the best.

You found your thoughts drifting to Ryan each time you saw someone strumming their guitar on the sidewalk, each time someone looked up hopefully at you from their place crouched or sitting on the ground, “anything helps” written on their signs. Though you hadn’t ever once thought of Ryan as poor, you knew that it was technically true, and that one accident - one slip of his foot jumping on or off of a train, one disagreement with the wrong person could put him in the same position as so many others, despite the fact that he had a gift to share with the world. They all do. They all did. He’s no different.

  By 6:30, you were getting hungry and had decided that it was time to begin making your way back to the center of the strip, wanting to be near the Bellagio when the fountain lights came on for the first time. As you walked, you wondered if Ryan had made it back to the room yet, if he’d had dinner, if he’d stored his backpack on the chaise, clothes clean and folded up neatly inside of it. I’m not used to this, worrying about someone else. You grinned, raising your camera again and taking a few photos of the exterior of the Cosmopolitan, which was the only Strip hotel with balconies, and the Aria and Vdara hotels. Their shapes were unique and in the fading light, you managed to capture the last rays of the sun reflecting off of the tall buildings, focusing on the gentle curve of each hotel’s design. You were pleased with the images, and you continued on, wanting to get a good spot in front of the Bellagio.

 You stayed for three songs, watching each one in a slightly different location, giving you a varied look at the building and the ones surrounding it, the way the spray of water was iridescent in the air as it fell gracefully back to the surface of the pond, the greenery surrounding the fencing. As you moved, you remembered why you loved taking pictures, and your mind was focused only on the next image, on figuring out the perfect angle for each shot. By that time, your stomach was growling loudly, and you decided to go back and see if Ryan was on the bridge, if he’d eaten. But he wasn’t there when you walked by - someone else standing in his spot, a cooler of water next to him. He wasn’t on that bridge anywhere, and he wasn’t on the plaza at the bottom of the escalator, even though Carlie the Incredible was back.

You made your way back to your room, a frown on your face, and when you opened the door, it was silent and empty. It’s eight, of course it is. He’s probably… But as you looked around the room, you didn’t see his pack, didn’t see Ryan’s guitar. He left. You stood at the end of the hallway, looking at the bed where the sheets were still messy, pillows still as you’d left them. The pizza box and to go containers were gone - you’d left them in the hallway before heading out - but everything else was as it had been previously, except for the missing guitar. You looked for a note, for a sign that he was coming back, for anything to indicate that you’d just missed him by a few minutes and as you dropped your camera and bag onto the bed, you stepped into the bathroom.

  His toothbrush was on the counter, neatly placed back into the container. Your eyes turned to the shower, where your dress from the previous night along with your tank top and shorts were hanging next to the gray shirt that Ryan had worn. Without thinking, you stepped forward, pulling the material down off of the shower glass, bringing it to your nose and inhaling. Smells like him. “He’s gone.” You finally spoke out loud, walking back into the bedroom with the shirt still clutched in your hands and sank down onto the bed, twisting your fingers in the fabric. You didn’t know what - if anything - you’d done to cause him to leave, but maybe it had just been the right time. Maybe it had been his plan all along, the laundry and the promise of coming back a way to find out when you’d be leaving. Maybe it gave him a chance to come back and get his stuff without having to say goodbye. He’d kissed you goodbye, after all, that last kiss completely different than the other ones you’d shared, and maybe instead of it meaning “see you later” as you imagined, it had truly been a goodbye, his way of thanking you and making a clean break without actually saying the words.

You took a deep breath, standing and setting the shirt down on the bed before you grabbed your camera out of your bag, checking the battery and dislodging it so that you could plug it in to charge. You picked up your purse, making sure that you tucked your new room key into it and headed back for the door. You’d known that Ryan was leaving, known you’d have to say goodbye, known that you’d miss him, but you were uncomfortable with the fact that the feeling of knowing that he was gone already was hitting you so hard. “Food. I need to eat.” 

 Nodding your head, you stepped out of the room and back into the hallway, deciding that after you went and drowned your sadness in a heaping plate of Chinese food, you would go back and get your camera before heading up the strip in the opposite direction, toward the Stratosphere and Fremont Street, which was where your group had been planning to head that night anyway. Good luck, Ryan Brenner. I’ll miss you.

---

[the-purity-pen]

You're Worth It

Any Male Character x Fem!Reader (no y/n)

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI)

Warnings: established relationship, fingering

Words: 4.2k

Notes: Since my best friend and I organized the #bbgiftexchange2021 and wouldn't be able to participate, we agreed to write each other a special gift fic. This is mine for her. I wrote this open-ended so that anyone reading can imagine any male character of their choosing. @flightlessangelwings, you are everything to me and I really would not be here, doing what I apparently love to do without your endless encouragement and love and support in all things. And that goes for just life in general too. I love you so much and you should definitely know that you are worth it 💕

Your entire body sagged as you dragged your feet along the hall to your apartment. The day had been exhausting. You had spent all day with clients, and your body was screaming for a nice hot bubble bath and maybe some time with your electric foot massager.

The stress was evident in the way you carried your body and most certainly in your face, so when you unlocked the door to your apartment, you practically dropped everything when you saw the candles everywhere.

Your first instinct was to panic that someone had broken in and was trying to distract you with the candles, but shortly after you closed the door, you saw him. He came through from the bedroom doorway into the living space with a warm smile on his face that made your heart melt even from across the room.

His walk across the space seemed to be in slow motion, but your heart raced all the same as he made his way over to you. Without a word, he took your bags from you and slipped your jacket over your shoulders gently. Then, he moved around you to better help get your things off and away from you before he set them down over by the shoe rack that occupied the wall next to the door.

You watched as he came over and wrapped an arm around you before placing a gentle kiss on your temple. You smiled at him. “What’s all this for?” you asked, watching his face morph into a bigger smile.

“I knew today was a busy, full-packed schedule for you at work, so I figured a little romantic evening would be a good way to unwind,” he responded, and when you opened your mouth to protest, just as he knew you would, his finger came over your lips as he shook his head.

“No. You cannot fight it. Yes, I wanted to do this and I know I didn’t have to,” he responded with a soft chuckle, pulling the words right out of your mouth. Your mouth shut as you looked at him with a knowing glance before he was chuckling again and kissing your cheek this time. “Come on,” he offered as he wrapped his arm up around your shoulder to lead you to the bedroom door.

You let him lead you to the bedroom, and once in there, you could see the candle trail had continued, and there were even some rose petals strewn about the room, giving a beautiful ambiance and fragrance to the room. Your eyes took in the sight, and you found yourself a bit breathless at all of the efforts he was going through to make sure you felt relaxed.

“Bubble bath is just about ready,” he told you before pulling away from you to go into the ensuite bathroom. You stood there a bit confused on how he could have timed it all perfectly, but you supposed that was just part of his charm.

You gently walked over to the open bathroom door and could smell the Epsom salts he must have poured into the bath. You peeked your head in just as he turned towards you.

“I think I remembered all the things that you like in your bath,” he said with a slight shrug, pointing to the bottle of oil, the package of salt, and the bubble bath soap all neatly placed on a little wooden tray on the corner of the tub.

You let out a soft huff of a laugh and nodded with a proud smile on your face. You walked over to him and placed your hand on his cheek gently. “You are doing so much more than perfect, my love,” you told him, which made him release a breath with a warm smile as he leaned in to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

“Now, bath time. Then I have something else super relaxing in store for you. I’ve been practicing!” he added with a little wiggle of his brows.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped. “You are positively sinful, you know that?” you said as you started the process of stripping your clothes.

His eyes never left you as he watched you bend and twist and accentuate parts of your body that he absolutely adored on you. Even if you constantly told him how you disliked those parts, he’d always counter with how beautiful you really were, and he would spend extra time kissing those parts you doubted.

As you slid into the warm bath, the smells and feel of the water almost immediately put you at ease. Your aching muscles started to relax with the heat of the water, and your mind started to clear just from breathing in the aroma. You can practically feel the stress just wafting away from your body.

With your eyes closed, you didn’t see him move around to the side of the tub, sponge in hand, as he dipped it into the warm water, letting it fall gently over your body. You are startled at first but quickly relax with a smile as you turn your head slowly to look at him.

He looks so incredibly handsome in this lighting, and you feel your heart flutter as it had the first time you had met him. It was as if the years hadn’t even gone by that you were still so young and newly in love. And it was times like the present where he reminded you that the love between you was always going to be this way.

“Have I told you I adore how hard you work?” he said randomly, softly as he watched the water pour over your body from the sponge. Over and over again, like a little quiet ritual between your bodies where he wasn’t actually touching you. It was as if the love was flowing through his fingertips, to the sponge and water, and back to you and your body.

You hummed in response, finding yourself feeling ultra-relaxed at the moment. “You have, but it’s always appreciated to hear it again,” you said as you looked to him and reached up with your wet hand to touch the side of his face again. He was growing a bit more stubble around this time of year, but it suited him, and you liked the slightly rugged look to him.

“Well,” he started before diving into all the details of what made you such a wonderful person. He began with how hard you work to provide for yourself and him. How passionate you were about your job and helping others. How big your heart was for caring so much for other people and how strong your body was for being able to carry out your tasks every day.

You felt your heart relaxed but thrumming at a decent rate at his words. He was also so kind to you. He was forgiving on the days when you’d work late and miss dinner with him. Or the times you had to cover a shift, and even though your body screamed and begged to be home snuggled with him, you had to stay at work. He never got mad at you for that.

What he was, and what he was telling you that he was, was proud. Proud of everything you did and would continue to do. Proud that he got to call you his person. You were his whole life and had been for quite some time. He really didn’t like having to spend time without you, but he understood.

“How are you such a perfect gentleman all the time?” you asked, using your soapy, wet hand to place it on the side of his face and slowly pull him down to kiss you. His lips always felt like home and even more so right then. “I love you,” you told him as you pulled away from the kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Let’s get you out of this tub for the next part of the evening,” he told you as he pushed himself to stand and went over to grab one of your favorite fluffy towels. These towels were usually only put out for special occasions but based on everything that happened since you walked in the door, you guessed this is what he deemed a special occasion.

You hummed in contentedness before finally getting yourself out of the tub. You let him wrap you in the towel gently before he left your side to drain the tub. You finished drying yourself off in the meantime and took to patting some of your hair dry. Just enough to keep it from dripping as you walked towards the bedroom where he had already disappeared into.

You smiled warmly as you saw everything set up once again. It truly felt like a magical spa, and you didn’t really know how he could pull off something like this with relative ease. Maybe he was magic. Or a fairytale prince. Or perhaps he was indeed just that perfect person for you.

He came up to you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you closer to him. His hands slid down to your backside, just resting his hands there as he looked down at you. “Get on the bed on your stomach. Strip the towel first,” he instructed before leaning in to kiss your lips in a brief but passionate kiss. He pulled away, and you just stared after him for a moment.

You let the towel fall and walked over to the bed, laying down gently on your stomach. But of course, not without an extra pop in your hips and a little wiggle as you lay down. He just chuckled under his breath, his eyes watching you with ease. Boy, did he love you.

He moved over to the side of the bed and grabbed the small bottle of massage oil. Your eyes were closed, but you recognized the smell when he opened it. You smiled to yourself as you tucked your arms down to your sides.

“A massage? For me?” you questioned with feigned surprise as he got his hands covered in the oil before placing the closed bottle on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“You work so hard,” he spoke slowly as he climbed onto the bed carefully and straddled your thighs. His warm hands pressed against your back softly and started to move over your skin to allow the oil to spread. “I figured your body would need this.”

He wasn’t a professional by any means, but over the years of various aches and sores, he had learned your weak points and your muscles that tended to be sorer. What you didn’t know was that earlier in the week, he had purposefully looked up proper techniques for some of the massages. He wanted to do it right.

The groan you let out when his hands pressed against your shoulder was almost sinful. He laughed quietly in this throat at the way your body pressed into the bed under his ministrations. He was hitting some knots here and there that you would flinch and cringe. But he consistently checked with you to make sure the pressure was okay and not actually hurting you.

“Pain is part of the healing,” you told him through grunts and gritted teeth when he hit a particularly hard knot next to your spine and shoulder blade. You winced and hissed a bit at the pain, but you told him to keep going. Within a few minutes, the pain subsided as you felt the muscle start to relax.

His hands worked over you effortlessly, and when he felt like he had hit every spot, his hands kept rubbing over your sides, just barely grazing the sides of your breasts. “Is there, um, anywhere else you’d like me to massage?” he asked softly, and you giggled though your eyes were closed still.

“Can’t imagine what you mean,” you said before turning yourself over to lay on your back underneath him. Looking at him, you smirked before taking each of his slippery hands in yours and moving them slowly to your chest.

He let out a slow, quiet groan as his hands worked against your soft flesh under yours. You bit your lower lip and looked up at him with a look that he knew well. His hands for a moment stayed where you put them directly over your nipples but just when you thought he was going to roll those pert peaks in his fingers, he moved to the upper part of your chest.

He used the oil to rub at the muscles in the front of your arm and your chest, and you let out a long groan of relief at the feeling of your muscles finally relaxing. Your arms fell to your side as your eyes closed, your breath becoming more even as he worked over your muscles. But then he was teasing again.

You giggled when his hands lightly grazed over your breasts, and he smirked at watching your nipples stiffen at his slightest touch. You gasped quietly as your back arched, hoping to find more contact with his hands against you. But he slid past them down your sides, where he massaged into the tissue at your hips.

Your hips twitched of their own accord, hoping to encourage his hands to meet at the apex of your thighs, but he knew better. This wasn’t just a tease; it was so much more because he genuinely did want to massage you. You let out a slight frown and whine when his hands traveled back up the sides of your body, narrowly missing your nipples.

But then he was leaning down and captured your nipple between his lips before sucking it in, and you gasped a moan. Your hand came to the back of his head to keep him there, which he had zero arguments against. He moaned against your skin as he sucked more of your breast into his mouth, his tongue flicking against your hardened nub.

Your voice cracked when you moaned out his name slowly, which only served to make his cock twitch in his still confined pants. His mouth moved slowly over your chest, kissing the skin along the way to the other nipple, where he paid it the same amount of attention. Your mind was already starting to fog in the haze of lust as he continued his slow assault on your senses.

His mouth worked its way up to your neck. The kisses lingered in each spot, his lips soft and warm against your skin that was already cooling from having been wet then dry from the shower. And although your skin was cold, the blood beneath was starting to warm with the electric buzz of lust that he was sending through you.

Your hands came to the sides of his face and guided him to hover over your face so you could kiss him. This kiss was also slow and sensual and deepened within a moment of fiery passion shooting through you. He moaned into your mouth, and you just swallowed down the sounds as you continued to kiss him. Your hips rolled up slowly against him, which prompted another groan from him. You were already wet from his kisses and attachment to your breasts, but you were starting to need more.

“What do you want?” he asked cheekily, a grin splitting his lips, and you pouted at him.

“You,” you said simply, which only made his grin grow wider.

“Pretty sure we’re already dating, so you’ve got me,” he responded with a chuckle. Cheeky bastard making jokes when all you wanted for him to fuck you nice and slow, make love to you.

You leaned up a bit to nip at his lower lip, and he laughed. “Oh, you want to put my hard cock inside of your wet pussy, don’t you?” he muttered as you groaned. When did his hand sneak between you? And when had he found your clit? You were so distracted by the look in his eyes that when his fingers started pressing circles against your clit, you gasped in surprise.

“Is that what you want?” he repeated, and you just nodded. Your head pushed back against the soft bed when his fingers gathered your arousal before he slipped his middle finger between your folds. A second finger soon added to the massaging of your inner walls that he was doing with each push and pull of his hand.

He chuckled darkly as he watched your face. The way your mouth dropped open, the creases in the corners of your eyes as you squinted, the way your nose twitched and flared as you tried to keep your breathing even and calm. He loved all of it, but above all, he loved you.

His fingers kept moving, but you were whining and waning as the pressure wasn’t enough. That’s when his fingers pressed harshly into you. His knuckles hit you as his fingers hit that blinding spot within you, and you cried out. “Oh god!” you cried, your hands slamming against the bed, grasping at the comforter the best you could to ground yourself, keep yourself from feeling like floating away.

His fingers continued that slow drag out only to shove back in, causing you to cry out in pleasure every time. He loved it, but he knew you’d need more soon. This was just the foreplay, the fun before he got to do what he had hoped to get to do all day while setting this all up.

His mouth came to your neck and started to kiss and suckle the skin before biting it, and you yelped. Your hand came to his shoulder, gripping it. When did he get so broad? Had he been working out? Or were you just feeling so full and surrounded by him that he seemed larger?

Your thoughts quickly vanished as he found your jugular and suckled it, trying to mark you as his. You already were, and the thought that he still felt the need to mark you as his in any way that he could make you weak in the knees.

“Please,” you clamored against him, trying to force anything more than a single word from yourself. You wanted to tell him how good it felt and how much he was blinding you with pleasure, but you wanted more, needed more. Your hands grabbed at him to pull his body right against yours as his fingers worked a bit harder, a bit faster within you.

He was hitting something so deep within you that you started to see stars as you moaned out, making him chuckle against your skin. He breathed heavily into your ear as his fingers continued to fill you over and over again. You felt that low burn in your belly, the warning sign that the wave of bliss was going to take you over soon.

“Oh, look at you. Such a mess for me after I relaxed you. Think you can take a third finger?” he asked gruffly into your ear, but before you could gather enough awareness to even nod, he added a third finger, and you cried out from the feeling of being so full.

You were chanting what felt like a prayer mixed with begging. Simple phrases and words spill from your lips like honey. Oh god. More. Fuck. Please. You were a mess. He was right. He had relaxed you and your brain enough to become just pliable putty in his hands which he was highly enjoying.

Your cries became louder and slightly higher pitched. That was your sign to him that you were getting closer. His fingers moved in such a way to make it feel like they were splitting you open in a good way. Faster, harder, hitting that spot within you with more ease as your arousal gathered on his fingers.

“Good girl. Now cum for me. I want to feel you,” he grunted against your ear. Between his filthy words and calling you a good girl, you were done for. Your body arched as you came, your inner muscles squeezing his fingers in a vice-like grip. “Ah, that’s it,” he groans as you cum on his fingers, but his movements don’t let up just yet.

He’s working you right through this orgasm to a second one that’s quickly building and threatening to take over you immediately. Your body is writhing, head turning this way and that, your eyes screwed shut, trying to just live in the pleasure that is blinding and consuming all at once.

Suddenly, you are careening over the edge once more, your body nearly lifted from the bed as you are overtaken by pleasure. A numbness starts to settle in your toes and slowly works its way up your body until your whining, begging him to slow down.

His fingers do slow down then as his face watches you completely blissed out. Your body twitches when he finally removes his fingers, and you’re relieved but immediately miss the feeling of being full all at once.

His lips find your skin with ease, kissing along and up your body until he is once again at your ear to whisper filthy nothings to you. Things about how sexy you look when you cum, how you felt around his fingers when you came, how you soaked his hand and the bed in your cum.

All you could do was to hum in agreement, your body feeling boneless under him. You couldn’t even move your hands to touch him, you were just that blissed out. He had wrecked you to the point of incoherency, and he had only done it with his fingers. A true testament to him knowing your body almost better than you knew it yourself.

His lips found yours, and kissing you slowly, softly until you were able to kiss him back finally. He smirked and chuckled softly. “Are you back?” he asked, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face gently. His thumb stroked your jaw back and forth as a way for him to keep you stimulated enough to wake you from your zoned-out self.

You nodded slowly in response to his question. You had to lick your lips to wet them though, because having your mouth open for all of your moanings and sounds made it relatively dry. “Yeah,” you croaked before clearing your throat. “Yes. I’m back,” you spoke softly as you turned your head, your eyes opening slowly to see him more clearly.

How was the one that looked like he was glowing when you were the one coming down from a double climax? You attributed it to him being a literal angel on Earth. It’s the only way to describe how well he could pull that pleasure out of you.

He kissed your cheek and let his lips linger, your eyes closed and enjoyed the sensation. “That was really an amazing massage,” you told him cheekily, a grin crossing your lips. That alone elicited a laugh from him.

“Ah yes. The traditional massage of the inner pussy,” he stated as if it were some fantastical name for something which only prompted both of you to break out into laughter. You were still laughing when he looked at your face. He loved seeing you so relaxed and happy, and knowing that he was the one who made you that way brought a warmth to his heart that he hadn’t experienced with someone else before.

After some moments of silence that had filled the space, your fingers dancing along his shoulder as he snuggled down against your chest, you finally spoke.

“You should move in,” you blurted out rather quickly.

He lifted his eye, an eyebrow cocked in curiosity as to what you had just told him.

“Really?” he asked, almost in disbelief that things were going to move to that next stage already. However, he shouldn’t have been that surprised since he had been planning to ask you to move in with him for the last few months.

You nodded and pulled your lips between your teeth in hopeful thought that he would say yes.

He grinned and leaned down to capture your lips in one of those soft sweet kisses of his. “I absolutely will move in with you,” he said, giving you one more chaste kiss. “On one condition.”

Your brows furrowed, and your head titled slightly as you looked up at him. Clearly, you were confused on what kind of condition or rule he could have been talking about. But before you could fully ask him what he meant, he moved his body down, capturing your nipple into his mouth, and you breathed out a moan.

“As long as I get to keep doing things like tonight for you at least once a week,” he finished his statement before kissing down your abdomen. You laughed.

“That sounds like an awful lot of work for you,” you spoke but gasped the last word when his mouth kissed over your mound and back up your stomach. He paused there and lifted to look at you.

“You’re worth it,” he said simply, and at that moment, your heart fluttered, your chest felt like it was warming, and you knew you were in love with this man. Whose head moved down to disappear between your thighs for the next hour.

[stressed-chaos]

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.

[ohbenbarnes]

introduction

hello there!

we are ohbenbarnes.

a fan source blog for the British actor, singer & songwriter.

things we will share here:

social media posts by ben

fan art created of ben and his characters/works

fanfiction of ben barnes characters (only. NO RPF)

things we will not share here:

personal, indentifying information about ben barnes that isn't already common/known knowledge

invasion of privacy of ben's life and/or people in his life

real person fics/stories that involve ben barnes as a character himself

stolen/miscredited art/creations (if we can help it)

roleplaying of any kind

if at any point, something we post is noted as stolen/miscredited, please alert us in an ask and we will do what we can to either remedy the situation by finding the correct creator or delete the content from our blog all together.

[suchatinyinfinity]

Character asks!

Y’all, if you’ve got questions about Billy Russo, Benjamin Greene or Ryan Brenner, I’m just sitting here trying to condense this outline that was supposed to condense my thoughts but just made them grow even more out of control. Anything goes!

[padfootagain]

Song For Tomorrows

Alright... so this is about Ryan. I was listening to some French songs yesterday and some just stroke me, and I thought that some of their lyrics could fit perfectly into one of Ryan's songs. So... I tried to take a few lyrics from here and there, translate them and put them together. I said that I tried to translate them and put them together... I've tried to keep the meaning and tried to find something that vaguely looks like rhymes... but let's be honest it doesn't rhyme, and I don't know if it sounds good at all. That'll teach me a lesson ;) ... but I said that I would do it, and so I did it... Be nice with me, English is not my natural language, and to translate poetry is so hard (it took me almost two hours for Christ's sake!).

The lyrics were taken from the following songs (all are Francis Cabrel's songs):

- Je l'aime à mourir

-Octobre

-Je t'aimais, je t'aime, je t'aimerai

-Gardien de nuit

-L'encre de tes yeux

I would advise you to listen to the songs L'encre de tes yeux and/or Je l'aime à  mourir, as I've imagined that Ryan's song would sound like either of them (Octobre is not bad either...).

Hope you like this little imagine (despite my awful level of songwriting, at least I know why I didn't become a songwriter....).

Gif not mine

You were watching the sun fall down beyond the hills. September was coming to an end, the first leaves falling, changing their green shades for pale yellow or vivid orange. The wind was cold but you didn't mind. Next to you, Ryan shifted and adjusted the blanket to cover your laps, and his caring gesture brought a smile to your lips. You reached for his hand and you held his calloused fingers in yours, resting your head on his shoulder. Summer had fled and Autumn had brought both the cold and the grey clouds.

And you knew Ryan would soon be leaving.

He was supposed to leave at the end of August. He had stayed with you one more month, watching as the weather turned from sunny days to rainy afternoons. But it was time for him to leave, and you knew it.

None of you had really spoken of what would happen to the two of you when he would go though. Would you still be a couple and wait for him? Would you leave with him? Or would the two of you merely go your separate ways from now on? Would you hold dearly on the memories you had already created together, or would you try to build new ones?

You knew that the choice was yours to make. You knew Ryan was willing to make it work. He had told you before that he would make sure to come back often if you chose to give your relationship a chance. You also knew that he would not come back to you and would let you live your life without him if you wanted this to end.

But your heart was uncertain and your head messy, and no matter for how long you thought, you could never come to a decision.

But time was playing against the two of you, and Ryan knew it. So he asked the question he dreaded so much, deciding that this moment was nor worse nor better than any other would be.

"Y/N?" he breathed, resting his cheek against your hair.

"Yes, Ryan?"

"We need to talk about us. About what will happen when..."

His voice died out in a hushed whisper but you didn't need him to speak another word to know what he was talking about. Your heart was heavy already.

"I don't know, Ryan," you answered.

"You know it's up to you," he said. "I'll make it work if you want us to be together."

"I know."

"But?"

You shrugged.

"But we are so different... what if... what if it was a dream you and I?"

You looked up at him, and you stared at his deep brown eyes for a while, both of you wrapped in a silence that only the wind was breaking.

"It doesn't look like a dream though," he whispered after a while. "It feels real."

"How could it work?"

He shrugged.

"I could come back often."

"What do you call often?" you replied, a sad expression on your face.

"I could stay then."

You stared at him with tender eyes, and you stroked his cheek tenderly, his short beard tickling your skin.

"You would hold it against me sooner or later, if I asked you to stay," you told him. "One day, you would regret it. I can't let you do that for me. You can't waste your life on me."

"It wouldn't be wasting my life to stay with you," he defended himself.

But you shook your head.

"You wouldn't be happy if you stayed here. And you deserve to be happy."

"I wouldn't be happy if I left either, I reckon," he said, staring intensely at you. "I don't think I could be happy without you."

You gave him a sad smile.

"I don't know, Ryan... I don't know what we ought to do..."

"What do you want to do?"

"Sometimes we can't have what we want," you shook your head.

"If we don't try to get what we want, for sure, we'll never manage to have it."

"Ryan..."

"We can't know until we've tried..."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

You felt your heart breaking in your chest. And you could read in his brown eyes that you were hurting him as well. But he deserved the sacrifice you were choosing now. Perhaps he didn't know it yet, but he would regret it one day if he stayed here, in this little town with you. You were sure of it, it was the best thing to do...

...Wasn't it?

"It would be mad..." you argued, trying to convince yourself as much as you tried to convince him. "And we would both end up broken hearted in the end. I think we should... just enjoy the time we have left together. And... try not to... be too much attached."

He nodded slowly, though he didn't seem much convinced by the last part of your speech. The truth was, you were wondering yourself who you were trying to fool with this idea of not 'getting attached'. You already loved him. The only thing you didn't know for sure was if he shared your feelings.

And so your brain was advising you to give up on him while you could. You were not sure about his feelings? He was about to leave town in just a few days? Then the wisest decision was to let him go and to try to forget him.

It was what your brain commanded, you had shushed your heart for now.

"I think it would be best if we... don't try to see each other again after you've left."

He nodded slowly, setting his intense stare on the landscape before you again.

"As you wish then," he said softly. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

"No, but it's the safest option," you answered earnestly.

"And you're willing to choose the safest option, despite the fact that it's not what your heart truly desires?"

You nodded slowly.

"Is there anything I could say to make you change your mind?" he asked in a whisper.

But you merely shrugged, resting you head on his shoulder again, and you let your thoughts drift away as the wind carried away some skeleton leaves...

 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 You were cuddling in his arms, your breathing now regular as you stroked his chest, drawing patterns on his skin. He kissed your forehead, humming softly to himself. You listened to his deep voice that soothed you, and you closed your eyes. But the more he hummed, the more you were certain that you didn't know this melody of his.

"Is it a new song?" you asked, looking up at him.

He nodded.

"I think so," he said, running a hand through your hair.

"What is it about?" you asked, resting your chin on his torso.

"I don't know yet," he answered, his hand moving from your hair to your temple and down to your cheekbone. "I just have a melody for now."

"But I'm sure you know what it's about already," you teased, smiling.

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"No, not yet."

"Could you play it for me?" you asked, kissing his jaw.

He smiled, looking at you with tender eyes, before he would sit up and rise from your bed, not bothering with putting his clothes on.

He came back a few seconds later with his guitar, and he sat next to you in the bed again.

He remained motionless for a moment, before placing his fingers on the strings, and he slowly started to play. He was hesitant at first, but after repeating the melody a few times, he played the notes exactly like he had imagined them in his head.

He hummed softly as he played for you the same melody over and over again. It was sweet and a bit melancholic. It was soft and soon it was acting on you like a lullaby. You laid on your stomach next to him, watching him play, and when you drifted to sleep that night, the last thing you were aware of was the soothing melody that Ryan was playing next to you.

 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 He spent the next few days playing this song over and over again. You saw him writing lyrics into the little notebook that never left his side. But though you asked him over and over again, he always refused to tell you what his song was about.

And then the day you were dreading so much arrived.

Ryan had packed up his things, checked twice if he had everything. He had put on his jacket, his cap, his pack was set on his back and he held his guitar in his hand. He was ready to go. You exchanged a small smile, both of you standing there, motionless, in your hallway.

"You're sure you've got everything?" you asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

He nodded.

"You have enough food?"

He nodded again.

"Don't worry about me," he told you, his tone reassuring.

But he seemed just as sad as you were at the idea of leaving your house.

"Won't you tell me then? What your song is about?" you asked one more time, trying to earn a few more seconds by his side.

He smiled, taking a step closer to you, and he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin back and forth in a tender gesture that made your heart skip a beat or two.

"It's about you," he said softly.

You smiled, tears wetting your eyes.

"Really?" you asked.

He nodded.

"Can you... can you play it for me then? Before you leave? Even if it's not finished yet."

He took his notebook out of his pocket.

"I think I finished it actually," he said.

"Could you play it then?"

But he shook his head.

"I don't think that... I... could play anything right now," he breathed, his voice hoarse, and you could hear that his throat was tightening.

He opened the notebook and tore off a page, before folding it quickly and handing it to you.

"But... won't you need it?" you asked.

He smiled again.

"I'll remember this one. I'll always remember this one..."

You clenched your jaw, trying not to cry. You knew he wasn't really talking about this song of his...

You took the paper in your hand, thanking him.

He rested his hand against your cheek again.

"I wish... I wish I could make you change your mind about this," he whispered.

He leaned down to kiss your brow, and before you could reply, he had turned on his heels and was walking to the door.

You watched him as he walked down the street, but you didn't tell him to stop. You felt your tears rolling down your cheeks, but you didn't sweep them away. You knew you had broken your heart, but you didn't run after him.

Instead, you walked back inside your house once Ryan was out of sight, and you walked to your living room, letting yourself fall on your sofa, still holding the lyrics of his song in your hands.

You looked down at the folded sheet of paper he had given you. For a moment, you merely stared at it, before slowly unfolding the note. You smiled at the sight of his messy handwriting...

... but his words were piercing your heart...

 Song for tomorrows

 I used to be nothing and here I am now

I'm the guardian of your sleep every night

You erased the numbers on the clocks all around here

And you do your best to live in your opaline dream

You dance in the forests you painted

You built bridges between us and the sky

And we cross them whenever you don't want to sleep

I love you so much I could die

 But I still wish to tell you

That everything I have ever been able to write

Comes from the ink in your eyes

 The sky says that it knows you

It is so beautiful, I guess it must be true

We'll walk to the top of the hills

To watch all that October illuminates

The wind will make the branches break

And all around there'll be skeleton leaves

 But I still wish to tell you

That everything I have ever been able to write

Was whispered by your smile

 Love is everywhere you look

And people can destroy everything they choose

You just have to open your arms

To rebuild everything all over again

These people who keep guns even in their baths

And an eye open in their beds

We were dreaming of Venice and freedom

But I hadn't noticed that you were wearing chains

And as I wanted too much to stare at you I forgot

That I was wearing the same

 But I still wish to tell you

That everything I have ever been able to write

Comes from the ink in your eyes

 And even if we will never live together

As we are fools as we are alone

As there are so many of them

And even morality agrees with them

You will be walking for a long time in my dreams

And you'll always be coming from where the sun rises

And everything I've ever said

Will bear for a long while the scent of regrets

 But I still wish to tell you

That everything I have ever been able to write

Comes from the ink in your eyes

 The paper slowly slipped from your numb fingers, hitting the ground in silence, and you remained sitting on your sofa for a while, frozen on the spot. The only things that moved in the room were your tears as they rolled down your cheeks.

He loved you.

You hadn't been sure before now, but now it was crystal clear. He loved you. And you loved him as well...

What were you still doing there then? Sitting idly on your couch?

You jumped up from the sofa, picked up your car keys and ran to the door.

You were still crying as you drove towards the train station. The tears were blurring the world around you, but you didn't seem to care at all.

You drove, raging against the lazy cars that slowed you down, and the traffic lights that forced you to stop. You had to arrive at the train station before he would leave...

You were almost there, you were crossing the last kilometers before reaching the trains when you spotted Ryan as he walked next to the road. You pulled over, stopping your car just a few feet before him. He froze, recognizing your car. How could he not recognize it? You had met in that car, as you had given him a ride to town. He had never left your side since...

You jumped out of the car and ran to him, throwing yourself in his arms, making him drop his guitar in the process, but none of you seemed to care.

"I love you," you breathed against his ear.

He closed his eyes, holding you tightly against him.

"I love you, Ryan. Please, don't go," you begged, your voice drenched with tears. "Stay. Stay forever. I'm sorry..."

But he shushed you, crushing his lips against yours.

When he pulled away again, he was crying as well, but there was a smile on his lips.

"I told you I could convince you," he grinned.

You both laughed, holding on each other tightly. And you remained there for a long time, holding on each other as if your lives depended on this tight embrace.

And after this, Ryan sang often this song he had written about you...

[the-blind-assassin-12]

taglist cleanup

hi everyone! if you’ve been following this blog for a while, you know that taglist organization is not one of my strong suits, and if you’re new here- trust me, my taglists are a damn mess. 

i thought i would take the chance to clean them up. i know that there are people who have asked to be added and have slipped through the cracks, and i know there are probably some people who want to move on or off of a list. please know that if i didn’t add or remove you when you asked me to, it is not personal and entirely due to the fact that i am shit at organization. 

below are the lists as i was able to assemble them based on some of the more recent things i have posted. please let me know if you would like to stay where you are or if there are any changes that i should make before i start posting this week. (sidenote, there’s a lot of Logan headed your way, buckaroos, followed by the flowing tresses of our favorite King.) 

General: 

@something-tofightfor​ @its-my-little-dumpster-fire​ @suchatinyinfinity​ @malionnes @thesumofmychoices​ @gollyderek​ @pheedraws​ @beautifuldesastre​ @alraedesigns @dearmarii​ @fific7 @traeumerinwitzhelden​ @obscurilicious​ @luminex3

Billy Russo:

@songtoyou​ @valkblue @belladonnarey @jigsawlover10 @nananananananananananabatman @marauderskeeper @elanor-of-imladris

Logan Delos: 

@valkblue @belladonnarey @ymariejp @drinix @jigsawlover10 @getlostinyourparadise @nananananananananananabatman @vetseras​ @qhostboyyy @ofgeneticperfection @delosdoll @commanderlola

Caspian:

@valkblue @vetseras @tartiflvtte @ificouldhelpyouforget​ @manymanymanyenvelopes @commanderlola @elanor-of-imladris

John Whittaker:

@commanderlola​

Benjamin Greene: 

@becs-bunker​ @elanor-of-imladris @songtoyou​ @octosapiens​ @valkblue

Ryan Brenner & Nick Tortano - currently empty 

so please feel free to send me a message, an ask, or leave a comment on this post, and as you respond I will make the necessary changes to my master taglist SO THAT HOPEFULLY I DON’T HAVE TO MAKE YOU GUYS DO THIS AGAIN. 

i hope you all have a lovely ass day! 

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Congrats on 10k! Can I request a love letter with Ryan Brenner (or with Logan if you don’t write for him), one he’d send when he’s away? The name is Grace (she). I’m 1m65, quite curvy (mom calls me Kim K.) with a tan skin. I’ve got curly brown hair and brown almond shaped eyes. My hobbies are probably reading books and fanfics and watching Netflix! I love spending time alone but I enjoy being around friends too! I love traveling and eating and I hate fake people and being told what to do Tysm💖

Grace, 

I’m currently on a train heading from Kentucky to Tennessee. I have a friend there that’s willing to let me work for them for a few weeks in exchange for some food and shelter. I’m just taking a little break because the summers in the south are so hot and dry. I have to strip everything off nearly every day because I’m swimming in my own sweat. 

I’ve been working on a song about you. I have two verses that dedicated to your beautiful brown hair and eyes. I remember how they shined when I played your favorite song at the bar we met. I remember how the wind flowed through your hair when we sat on the roof of the library. Your voice and your laugh echo through my ears often. 

I can’t wait to see you again. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms and spend hours cuddling on your couch watching Netflix. I can’t wait for you to hear my song for you, and only you. 

I miss you so much and once this summer is over, I’m coming back to you. I’ll be back in no time, sweetheart. I promise. 

Yours Truly, 

Ryan

[something-tofightfor]

Just a Place - Part 2

Pairing: Ryan Brenner x Reader

Word Count: 5100

Rating: M (language)

Summary: Your trip to New York City entails a lot of fun - and a little pushback from one of Ryan’s best friends... 

** You will not understand a darn thing in this if you haven’t read “Neon Lights”, which can be found on my masterlist page **

Author’s Note: This is not at all what I expected from this part, and it got  a litle out of hand... but part 3 will be the part I have been itching to write since the first time I watched Jackie and Ryan. 

Tag list: @agent-bossypants @ooo-barff-ooo @likethetailofacomet @traeumerinwitzhelden @mfackenthal @songtoyou @obscurilicious @elanor-of-imladris @thesumofmychoices @suchatinyinfinity

Let me know if you want me to tag you in on this one!

POV: Ryan

 “What do you mean?” He’d frowned at Georgie, who was staring down at your dad’s guitar before glancing over at you, hoping that you hadn’t heard the remark. “This one’s not mine, I just brought it with me because I restrung it and want to break the strings in.” He shook his head, narrowing his eyes. “My guitar is back in Pennsylvania, Georgie, this one’s hers.” He looked back at you, noticing the tight lipped expression on your face and stood, leaving the guitar in the case and stepping over to you, reaching out to touch your face before leaning in and putting his lips next to your ear. She heard. Shit. “Sorry about him.” You shook your head before finally smiling at Ryan, letting him know that you were going to take pictures throughout the park while he sat down with his friends and played. “Alright. Take your time, OK?” You nodded and Ryan reached down, squeezing your hand once before watching as you walked away, camera held tightly in one hand.

 He turned back to Georgie, Matt and Jack, licking his lips as his hands closed around the neck of the guitar. “You gonna tell us about her, Ryan?” Georgie spoke again, the edge still apparent in his voice, and Ryan looked up at him, thinking about what to say. What does he want to know? What… “She came with you? You’ve never introduced any of us to your friends before, Ryan. Is this one special?” Very. Ryan took a deep breath, rolling his neck and shaking his shoulders out.

 “Yeah, she is. We’re… we found each other after months, and this one’s different, Georgie.” Ryan began strumming the guitar, adjusting the tuning slightly as he spoke. “She’s had a rough couple of years, and this whole thing is different, you know? I can’t explain it, but it’s like…” He trailed off, eyes searching in the direction that you’d walked off in, but Ryan couldn’t see you. “She makes me happy.” He shrugged his shoulders, nodding his head - more for himself than for any of this friends. “We gonna play or what?” Matthew laughed and Jack agreed, but Georgie stared at Ryan for long seconds, a slight frown on his face. “Can’t exactly record if we’re rusty, am I right?” Without another word,  Georgie looked away, taking a breath - and then the three other men began playing. After a few moments, Ryan joined in, immediately recognizing the song.

 After nearly an hour of playing, the four of them had fallen back into a rhythm, and Ryan was enjoying himself, the warm summer air and fading sunlight hitting his skin as he strummed, singing for the people that walked by. Some of them stopped, tapping their toes and nodding their heads before dropping tips - and a few phone numbers - into the guitar case and heading off, others simply walked by, offering smiles to the men as they went about their day. Ryan glanced around the park as they played, taking stock of his surroundings and even though he was enjoying the feeling of his fingers against the strings, the way the guitar felt against his thighs, he wasn’t playing with the same fervor that he had previously. Ryan engaged in conversations with the people that stopped to speak to them, grinning and running a hand through his hair as the group laughed together, but something was off. This is weird. This is… why does it feel like this?

 After a while, Ryan noticed that you had wandered back and were taking pictures of the four of them from a distance, not trying to be intrusive. “Hey.” He yelled over to you, waving with one arm. “C’mon, I’m going to play one of your favorites.” You smiled, making your way over to where they stood and Ryan turned to the other men. “You wanna record something good tomorrow?” They all nodded, looking at him with interest. “I’ve been workin’ on this one for a long time, maybe we can lay this one down.” He started playing, closing his eyes and getting lost in the song - and about halfway through, when Georgie and the others had joined in, Ryan realized what had been off: he was unhappy playing simplified covers of old folk songs. Yeah, they might be what people know, but it’s not what I want. He opened his eyes at the end of the song, immediately seeing that you were beaming at him, and Ryan felt his heart swell. I can make my own music. I can make my own way. He took a breath and looked back at the guys, who were all talking excitedly, asking questions about the song itself, the arrangement and if Ryan had any ideas for them.

 You settled down onto the bench of the table next to them, scrolling through your camera and though Ryan was invested in the conversation, he kept half an eye on you, but you were absorbed in your own task, and after a while, he allowed himself to focus on his friends. Gotta go out with a bang, right? They played for a while longer, trying to figure out the best ways to incorporate all of them into Ryan’s song, and when that was done, they played a few more covers, a few more originals, and then Ryan watched as Georgie began flexing his fingers, shaking his head.

 “That’s gotta be enough for the night, right Ryan?” Ryan nodded, licking his lips and running a hand against his beard. “We record at noon tomorrow, I’ll text you the address. It’ll be good practice for the show on Friday night.” Ryan straightened up again before carefully handing the guitar off to you, your fingers lovingly stroking the neck as he leaned down to collect the money that was in the case. “What are you doing?” Georgie’s voice was quiet but surprised as Ryan handed him the bills and coins along with the folded bits of paper while shrugging his shoulders.

 “I’m good, you guys did all the work. And I won’t be using any of those numbers, so...” He leaned over, taking the guitar back from you and winking before he leaned down to put it back into the case. “Besides, you got us the studio time. You guys keep it.” Ryan thought of his bank account, the debit card in his wallet, the few thousand dollars that he’d managed to save during the months in St. Louis, and was surprised at how content he felt. It’s not much, but it’s mine. The four of them talked for a few more minutes and then you cut in, scooting over to sit next to Ryan, his arm going around your shoulders as his hand fell against the top of your arm.

 “Can I buy you guys dinner?” You spoke quietly, looking at each of them in turn. You don’t need to do that. “I’d love to get to know all of you better, and it’s the least I can do since you guys haven’t seen each other in a while.” Matthew and Jack agreed almost immediately, but Georgie was silent for longer, looking at you with interest. “You guys pick, whatever you want.” The man finally nodded and Ryan felt himself relax, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. I’m not sure what his problem is, but…

 As a group, you stood, Jack and Matthew talking about a Mexican barbecue place that they’d passed on their way to the park - and that’s where you’d ended up. The place was cozy, and Ryan watched as you easily fell into conversation with Matthew and Jack, ordering a bunch of different appetizers and drinks for the table almost as soon as you’d sat down. She fits right in here, with them. The three of you talked and joked together, going through multiple bowls of chips and salsa while Ryan and Georgie caught up, the younger man filling Ryan in on what he’d been up to and what he was looking forward to; plans that included heading back west after New York, meeting up with the people he knew in Chicago before heading to Texas for a while. “Maybe you can meet me there, Ryan. Texas has always been good to us.” With a non-committal smile, Ryan picked up his beer and sipped it, changing the subject. I’ll tell him after we record. Ryan felt himself relaxing throughout the meal, which felt (at times) like an inquisition by his friends, but you cheerfully answered the questions they asked - where you were from, what you did… all the basics, with the majority of the inquiries coming from Georgie, who had never been shy.

 By the time that the bill came, the five of you were all laughing together, you having asked the three men about themselves as well and Ryan watched as you reached out for the envelope it came in, barely looking at the paper before reaching into your wallet for your debit card. Jack and Matthew both tried to stop you, but you shook your head, waving them off. “I offered. This is on me.” Ryan saw that Georgie was again watching intently but silently, eyes focused on you as the waitress took and then brought the card back, along with a pen, setting it down on the table. Signing it and then leaving a large cash tip, you leaned back in your chair, fingers idly playing with the hair at the nape of Ryan’s neck, and he felt himself leaning in to your touch. This is normal. This is what the future is going to be like. I won’t be traveling by train, but I can… we can meet friends like this. Is this what a normal life is like?

 You said your goodbyes outside of the restaurant, the three men turning and walking in the opposite direction as the two of you. Ryan wrapped his fingers around yours as you walked, pulling you close - much the way he had as you ambled down the Strip. By the time you’d gotten back to the hotel room and had gotten into bed, Georgie had texted the address of the recording studio. Ryan was thrilled to learn that it was only a few blocks away from where you were staying, meaning that he could sleep in, which he’d relayed to you as you pressed your body against his. “Ryan, I don’t think…” You shook your head before leaning it against his shoulder and trailing your fingers up and down his abdomen. “I don’t think Georgie likes me much.” He froze, but Ryan could hear the apprehension in your voice. What? Why? “What did he mean about the guitar?” Shit. He paused for a minute before answering, taking a deep breath and tightening his fingers against your bare hip.

 “Well, I had a Washburn that I’d taken everywhere with me for a long time. Had that and my banjo, and then I met Jackie.” He flinched at using her name, but you didn’t react aside from nodding once. “She saw me playin’ this real nice guitar in a music shop in her hometown, and right before I left the first time, as a thank you, she bought it for me… so I left the Washburn with her daughter when I went to Portland, took the new one with me.” He shook his head. “I never asked for it, was gonna try to buy it myself, and she just…” Tried to buy me? Tried to give me a tie to her every time I played it? “She wanted me to have it, and wanted me to make music on it, and I think she wanted me to think about her whenever I played it.” And I did.

 “It’s a nice guitar, Ryan. I can tell it means a lot to you.” Your voice was quiet, fingers low on his belly, the tips of them moving slowly back and forth. “I’m not… you don’t think I’m… Ryan, I know that you don’t want or need someone to take care of you, but…” You sighed and Ryan’s hand moved up from your hip to your side, sliding around to your back and trailing up and down the center of it. “That’s not why I told you to play my dad’s whenever you want…”

 “I know.” He turned his head, looking down at you in the darkness of the room. “I know you aren’t, you never were.” Ryan sighed. “After Vegas, I... “ Do I really say this? “Every time I played, I thought of you. Jackie was a passing thing, a distraction.” He looked down, using his free hand to tilt your chin up, brushing his lips against yours. “She gave me the guitar, and I’m thankful for it, but I don’t think about her anymore.” Unless people bring her up. You shifted next to him, hooking a leg over his and he tugged on your hip, pulling you toward him. “What are you doin’?” With a shrug of your shoulders, you moved further, swinging your leg all the way over his, bringing your entire body directly into his line of sight as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning in.

 “Making sure you’re definitely not thinking about anyone else, Ryan.” You grinned at him, and Ryan’s fingers tightened on one hip, the other hand sliding up the back of your thigh. Definitely not.

 ---

 POV: You

 You stretched out in the bed, arm reaching over to the space where Ryan had been only a few hours earlier and smiled. He’d headed out early in the morning, not sleeping in much after all, and carrying your guitar so that he could clear his head before heading to the studio. You’d understood why he had needed to go alone, and planned on joining him - and Matthew, Georgie and Jack at around 2 in the studio to catch the tail end of the session. Though you were used to going to bed late - and getting up even later, thanks to Ryan’s enthusiasm and desire to make up for almost a year’s worth of separation, sleeping in that morning had felt different. I woke up and he was gone… and it didn’t bother me.

 Ryan’s side of the bed was cold now, sure, but he’d kissed you goodbye, his lips lingering at your temple, your response a mumbled “I love you, Ry” without even opening your eyes. His fingertips had trailed over your face, his own response clear - that he loved you more - before you’d heard the sound of the door closing softly behind him, and then you’d immediately drifted back off. Sitting up and stretching, you looked around the room, the smile on your face growing as you took in Ryan’s clothing scattered on the desk and dresser, your own stuff mixed in. It’s like it’s been this way forever. Quickly getting dressed, you checked the time and saw that it was still early enough for you to grab a coffee on the way to the studio, and with one last look around you, you left the room, purse in hand.

 New York City was alive around you, the sounds and smells different from Philadelphia - and even from many of the other cities that you’d visited, and you relished it, taking everything in. After the relative silence you’d spent the previous few months in, it was a welcome change. Carrying your coffee in one hand, you typed in the address of the studio into your phone and made your way toward it, letting the receptionist know that you were there for the session in room 5, that you were a guest of Ryan Brenner. She led you back to the room, opening the door and motioning for you to keep quiet as you slipped past her.

 As you took a seat on a stool in the back of the room, you watched Ryan and the other three through the glass, joking and laughing with each other between takes. Ryan was wearing your shirt, his muscles flexing as he strummed the instrument on his lap, his eyes closed as he leaned into the microphone, singing his heart out. I love him so much. You felt your chest tighten, hearing the way that the played - by himself and with the band -  and you were almost overwhelmed at the strength of the feeling, and with a jolt, you realized something important. This is the way that he felt seeing me with my pictures. This is…

 He looked at home with the guitar on his knee, the microphone in front of his face, the others playing with him. He looked comfortable, content and in control, and you - not for the first time - wondered if he was making the right decision to stop traveling, to stop giving himself the opportunity to learn and grow. He says he wants to do this. He says it’s the right call. I have to believe him. You took a breath, eyes on Ryan - always on Ryan - and watched as they finished the song, Jack and Matthew breaking into a round of applause as the final notes died away, a look of pride on Ryan’s face. “That’s great, guys. We’ll call it a day, I think we got what we needed!” The technician pressed the button, giving the four men a chance to respond, and Georgie was the first to stand, flipping a thumbs up in the direction of the board and monitors before turning to Ryan, who was putting the guitar back into its case, his arms moving animatedly as he recapped what they’d just finished recording.

 “So they’ll give us the master copy of that, and then we can…” Georgie was excited, his enthusiasm spreading to Ryan and the other two men, and you leaned back against the wall, sipping your coffee and smiling. Good for him. This was the first time Ryan had really played since his hand had healed, and you knew that it was a big moment for him, though you also knew that he’d spend hours picking apart his playing later as he listened back to the recording. The men exited the recording booth, still talking to each other, and Matthew squeezed Ryan’s shoulder tightly, thanking him…but then Ryan’s eyes landed on you and his face brightened even further, which you didn’t think was possible.

 “You made it!” He hurried over to you, the strap of the carrying case over his shoulder and you nodded, feeling a smile overtake your face. “How much did you hear?” You shrugged, reaching out to squeeze his hand even as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours for only  the briefest of seconds.

 “Just the last two, I slept in.” You shrugged, looking around Ryan and at where the other men were standing, talking amongst themselves and to the sound engineer. “You guys sounded great.” You cleared your throat. “Georgie, you’re impressive on that fiddle.” The other man’s eyes flashed as he turned his attention to you, but he kept smiling, nodding gratefully as he called Ryan over to where they were huddled. I knew it.

 After a few minutes, the  engineer told the group that he’d get copies of the recordings made for each of them, reaching out to shake hands with all four men in turn. You watched as his eyes traveled to Ryan, reaching out with his opposite hand to gesture to the equipment next to him. “You’re one talented dude.” Ryan’s face reddened slightly and he ducked his head, his hand going up to the back of his neck. He’s not wrong. “You ever wanna record again, if you’re back in the city, please get in touch with me, I’d be more than happy to work with you.” Oh, Ryan.

 “Well, thank you, sir.” Ryan cleared his throat and licked his lips, brow furrowing. As he brought his face back to level with the other man, he spoke again. “That means a lot, I’m sure you hear a ton of talented people every day.”

 “You’re right, but…” The man shook his head, and you noticed that Georgie, Matthew and Jack were all watching, their own conversation stopped. “There’s a difference between talent and authenticity.” Ryan’s eyes widened. “You aren’t just singing, you’ve… lived these things.” You blew out a breath, your body growing warm with pride again as the man reaffirmed what you already knew, what Ryan refused to believe about himself. “You’d have a great career, Ryan. Writing more stuff like the last two you performed? Damn.” Even as the man spoke, Ryan’s eyes flicked to you, settling on your face.

 “Yeah?” The man nodded, and Ryan spoke again. “I guess we’ll have to see what happens.” The conversation finished, Ryan stepped over toward you again and held out a hand to you, pulling you from the stool you were sitting on. You followed him out of the room and into the hallway, through the lobby and out into the sunshine, blinking at the bright light before sliding sunglasses down off the top of your head. “Where you guys headed now?” The five of you stood on the sidewalk, but Ryan was talking to Georgie, the younger man’s face set into a frown. Why is he upset? They just…

 “Probably going to go out tonight and play some more, catch the crowds in Central Park for a while and then lay low before the show tomorrow night.” Georgie’s eyes slid over to you, and though he was speaking to Ryan, he didn’t drop his gaze. “She gonna let you come out and play with us, or do you have plans?” I…

 “I’m just here because Ryan asked me to be.” You spoke before Ryan had the chance, shrugging your shoulders. “I’m more than capable of spending a night in New York City alone, and Ryan can do whatever he wants to.” You reached over, laying a hand on Ryan’s arm, feeling him turn slightly toward you. “He came here to see you guys.” He sure did. “I don’t make his decisions for him.” Taken aback by the tone of your voice, Georgie straightened up and Jack’s eyes widened, but Ryan’s entire body stiffened next to yours.

 “Not sure what the problem is, Georgie, but I’m gonna do what I want to do.” He turned to face you, the warmth from earlier all but gone from his eyes. “You ready to go back to the room?” You nodded once, not knowing what to say, and as Ryan’s arm went around your shoulders, you moved closer to him. He’s claiming me, but why? “I’ll get ahold of you later tonight and find out what you are - maybe come out for a little while.” Ryan sighed, and you could hear the disappointment in the sound.

 “Sounds good, Brenner.” Jack offered the two of you a smile and a nod. “Just call one of us and we’ll work it out.” As you turned in the opposite direction - back to your hotel - neither of you spoke, but Ryan’s arm fell away from your shoulders, his hand finding yours and your fingers linking together.

 “Kinda like in Vegas, hmm?” He spoke after a minute or two, but he was so quiet that you had to lean in closer to hear him. “‘Cept this time I’m not carryin’ around a crate with me.” You laughed, and after a second, you heard him join in - and the tension broke. “You don’t mind if I go play with them tonight, do you?” He sounded slightly anxious, and you pressed your lips together. You thought for a minute, trying to figure out how to say what you were thinking without it coming out wrong.

 “No. Of course not.” You sighed, opening the door to your hotel’s lobby and stepping inside. Ryan followed close behind, still silent. “You guys sounded great today, but if you play tonight, they’ll have more practice with your songs, and … I want you to have fun.” I want you to be sure that this is the right call for you. You pressed the button for the elevator, swallowing. “And I don’t think you’ll have as good a time if I’m hanging around with you.” Because Georgie hates me. He was silent as the elevator arrived and you stepped into it, the doors closing behind you. “I’ll order room service and watch a movie or something.” Ryan still didn’t respond, and when you looked over at him, you saw a frown on his face.

 He didn’t speak until you were back in the room, setting the guitar case down and then turning to face you, the frown still there. “You know if you want to come, I wouldn’t ever tell you no, right?” You closed your eyes, nodding. “You being there with me while I play is… God, It’s all I’ve wanted for the last…” He swallowed again, stepping closer, and you felt his fingers trailing up your arm slowly. “Today was…” He sighed. “Those guys are great, you know?” He was speaking quietly, the cadence of his voice almost as soothing as if he was singing. “We mesh well together, but they’ve all got… nothin’ to lose.” He closed his fingers around your upper arm, pulling you closer, and you reached out, hands resting on his sides as you pressed your cheek against his chest. “And a year ago, I woulda said the same.” He tilted his head down, lips finding the crown of your head. “But now?  I can’t think that way anymore.” He said your name quietly, and you straightened up, tilting your head back to look up at him. “I got everything to lose now.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he shook his head once, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I used to ask myself a question - every day. I’d say ‘where am I goin’ next and how am I gonna get there?’ … and the only times I’ve never asked myself that are the days I’ve been with you, because... I don’t need to go anywhere else.”

 You were stunned, eyes wide and you could only stare at him as he looked down at you. One hand came up, the backs of his fingers ghosting over your cheek, and he searched your face with his eyes, tongue poking out slightly. Without saying another word, he lowered his face toward yours, eyes closing as his lips made contact. You lost yourself in the kiss almost immediately, your fingers closing against the material of his shirt, feeling the hand that wasn’t on your face pressing against your lower back as he pulled you closer. When he pulled away, his eyes were bright again and filled with life - the look was one that you loved to see on his face. “What, Ryan?” He shook his head, thumb moving over your jaw as he leaned in his kiss you on the forehead, exhaling.

 “Nothin’. You just make me happy.” When he stood back up, he raised one eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. “I think you might be right about Georgie, though.” You laughed, grinning and rolling your eyes. “I don’t think he likes you very much… but it’s just because he’s not used to havin’ to share me.” That’s not quite it, but… “So.” He spoke again, lazily circling his fingers on the skin directly beneath the hem of your shirt. “Not to change the conversation or anything, but…” You bit down on your lower lip, knowing exactly where he was going due to the change in his voice and the look in his eyes. Play along… “They’re not gonna expect me to call for a few hours, which means…”

 Pushing him away from you, you reached down, pulling your shirt off in one motion and turning away from Ryan, headed toward the bathroom. “How about a shower?” You looked back over your shoulder at him, pleasantly surprised to see that he’d already removed his shirt, too, and had taken a step toward you, desire written all over his face as he dropped the material onto the floor.

 ---

 The next afternoon, you were sitting near the front of the crowd on the grass of Prospect Park atop of one of the hotel bed’s blankets, camera at your side. Ryan had been out until nearly midnight the previous night, slipping back into the room quietly, leaning the guitar case against the wall before disappearing into the bathroom and reappearing a few minutes later, dressed only in his boxers. His hand ran through his hair as he’d asked you quietly if you were awake, climbing into bed without ever turning on a light, his body sliding against yours like it was made to. The two of you had talked quietly for nearly an hour, trading kisses in the dark, his hands sliding across your abdomen and sides and yours over his bare back and shoulders. He’d come back to you - and though he’d told you he was going to, actually having it happen meant more to you than he could even know.

 Ryan was scheduled to perform with the other guys at 7:45, so you’d taken an Uber over to Brooklyn at 3:30, wanting to catch some of the earlier bands. For a few hours, you’d sat on the blanket with Ryan, nestled between his legs, his arms wrapped around you as you listened to the people onstage. It was a gorgeous early summer day, the sun was perfectly warm - and you were content, happy to be there with Ryan, to get to experience him playing for such a large crowd. He’d left you at 7, hugging you tightly and walking off confidently, guitar case over his shoulder and you’d followed him with your eyes until he disappeared into the crowd. At 7:35, you got a text from him, smiling as you read the few words on the screen. Five songs. Done at 8:15.  You responded back, equally as brief. Knock ‘em dead, Ry. Once that was sent, you busied yourself setting up your camera on the tripod, careful to keep it low enough that it wouldn’t block anyone’s view. To your knowledge, Ryan had never played for a crowd so large, and you wanted him to be able to look back at the performance whenever he wanted.

 Settling back down onto the blanket and drawing your knees up to your chest, you waited until he took the stage - dressed simply in a pair of dark jeans and a white t-shirt, followed by Georgie, Jack and Matthew - to press the record button. They took a few moments to adjust their instruments, and then you watched as Ryan looked over, nodding at the others and then leaned forward, clearing his throat as he spoke into the microphone. “My name’s Ryan, and these are my friends.” He paused, eyes looking out over the crowd and a huge smile on his face. He turned his head, easily finding you and you watched as he sat up straighter, the hand that wasn’t resting atop the body of your guitar gripping the microphone. “We’re gonna play you some songs.” He licked his lips, letting go of the mic and closing his eyes before he leaned back in, strumming once. “Hope you like ‘em.”

---

[elanor-of-imladris]

21 Things

Tagged by @dylanobrusso   Thank you!

Rules: Answer 21 Questions, then tag 21 people.

Nickname: Ginny (my best friend for fun), Elen, Hope (Chinese Translation, my parents call me by this name)

Zodiac: Gemini sun

Height: 5’4

Last Movie I Saw: Rewatched part of Narnia: The Voyage of Dawn Treader yesterday.

Last Thing I Googled: “zodiac sun moon” (I don’t really know zodiac lol)

Favourite Musicians: I listen randomly and I don’t have an all-time certain preference. Current favourite is One Republic. And I listen to LOTS of English, French and German musicals and various film soundtracks, so maybe Howard Shore and Dove Attia.

Song Stuck In My Head: “Last Kind Words” by our dearest Ryan Brenner (Ben Barnes) from “Jackie and Ryan”.

Other Blogs: Have one on a Chinese fandom platform called Lofter, where I post fanfics in Chinese and some calligraphy/drawing/DIY things.

Followers: 11 (have a little more on some Chinese platforms where I post fanfics in Chinese, really sorry Tumblr, I haven’t written any fanfics in English)

Following: 31

Amount of Sleep: 7-9

Lucky Numbers: idk...? maybe 7 and 21

Dream Job: Writer, calligrapher, photographer, painter.....(I can do various things so I think “artist” would be my dream job lol)

What I am wearing: blouse+hoodie+coat, some school-uniform-trousers (it’s comfortable and I wear it on a daily basis even I am not in school)

Favourite Food: I don’t have “favourite foods”. As a decent Hobbit, I enjoy all delicious foods. Various homemade dishes.

Language: English, Chinese, VERY SIMPLE conversation in French and German.

Can I Play Instruments: Some Chinese instrument called “guzheng”古筝 (systematic trained), and a little piano and guitar (self-learned)

Favourite Song: Again, I don’t have all-time favourites. Current favourite is “Love Runs Out” by OneRepublic.

Random Facts: As I currently live in China, I would die without VPN to have access to Twitter and Tumblr etc; All my friends know I have a huge crush on Ben Barnes and Richard Armitage, I am a HUGE Tolkien and C.S.Lewis fan and I love musicals even if they only know me for about ten minutes. 

Describe Yourself In Aesthetic Things: EEAAAAHHH? Perhaps the campfire and crackling woods, ocean under the moonlight? Haven’t tried describing myself in this way yet and my English is BAD.

Tagging: idk I will just leave this blank.

[ohbenbarnes]

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