#ryan seaman x reader fluff

[the-rarest-sexiest-coinkydink]

Rehearsal (Ryan Seaman x reader)(high school AU)

Summary: Ryan and (y/n) have been best friends since they were four years old. They’re now coming to the end of high school, and neither of them have had a romantic partner yet, so they decide to try and improve their *skills* so that their first kiss with someone they love isn’t a disaster. But they soon realise that maybe there’s a reason neither of them have been on a date before... 

Word count: 1201

Warnings: none 

“Ugh.” (y/n) flopped onto Ryan’s bed, blowing their hair out of their eyes as he tossed his school bag under his desk. “That was the worst lunch break ever.” 

“I know!” He sat down next to them, leaning back against the wall. “We’re gonna have to say something to them eventually. I can’t keep suffering through all the tongue noises.” 

(y/n) pulled a face, mock gagging. “I swear normal people don’t kiss that loudly. And sloppily.” 

“I mean, it is Casey and Alex. Have they ever been normal?” 

“Yeah, you make a good point. But still - it’s so gross.” 

They sat there in peaceful silence for a few moments, glad to be away from the chaos of the school halls with each other’s company. They’d latched onto each other on their first day of school, two chubby kids sniffling in a corner as their parents left, and had been inseparable ever since. No matter what they were doing, it was always better if the other one was there with them. Ryan got up and turned his radio on before the quietness could become deafening, and sat down again. 

“Ryan?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I think I’m going to be single forever.” 

A smile tugged at his face, but when he glanced down at his best friend he saw that their eyes were shining with unshed tears, and he frowned. “Hey, no way. You’re so great, someone will definitely want to date you.” 

(y/n) sniffed, blinking rapidly. “Yeah right.” 

“No, I mean it.” He shifted so they were sat opposite each other, resting a hand on their knee, softly stroking the faded denim of their jeans. “You’re amazing. You’re so pretty, and funny, and clever. You have the best laugh I’ve ever heard, dude! Honest, I would d... definitely be surprised if nobody asked you out.” His heart had stopped momentarily at the near confession, but thankfully (y/n) didn’t seem to have noticed. “The right person will come along some day. For both of us.” 

There was clearly something else on their mind, and he poked them in the forehead, grinning as they giggled. He really did love that sound. “Come on, tell me.” 

“It’s gonna sound so stupid.” 

“I don’t care, tell me. We tell each other everything.” Okay, so that wasn’t exactly the case. He had been very carefully hiding the crush he had on (y/n) for the last year and a half now. But other than that, there were no secrets between them. It was just unfortunate that the one secret the had was a very big one. 

Shrugging, (y/n) stared up at his bedroom ceiling, not wanting to see his reaction to their words. “I’m scared of being such a rubbish kisser that nobody will be interested in keeping me around.” 

He stared at them for a moment, baffled. “What makes you think you’ll be a rubbish kisser?” 

“I haven’t done it before. So there’s no way I’d be good at it.” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be terrible. Just... average. And hey, if good kissing is as messy as Alex and Casey make it then maybe being a bad kisser isn’t such a bad thing.” That made them snort with laughter, and he grinned. “I haven’t kissed anyone either, so... I’m probably just average too. You can’t be good at everything the first time.” 

Suddenly, a genius idea popped into his head. Well, it was either brilliant, or the thing that would end their friendship - but it couldn’t hurt to try, right? “How about we practice on each other?” 

(y/n) felt their jaw drop. “You what?” 

“I-I just meant... maybe we can just practice... I don’t know - oh it was a stupid idea, forget I said anything.” He stammered, shuffling away a little, but (y/n) grabbed his arm and held him there. 

“I... I’m okay with it if you’re okay with it.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I guess... it can’t be a bad idea, right?” Internally, (y/n)’s brain was screaming. They’d had feelings for Ryan for the last two years now, but knew full well that they weren’t reciprocated. So they were damn well going to take any opportunity they could to kiss him at least once - it was better than not getting the chance at all. 

“O-Okay.” 

They shifted so they were directly opposite each other once again, knees touching as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Both of them could feel their hearts pounding at a million miles an hour, and their hands were shaking a little. Ryan laughed nervously, brushing his fingers through his blue hair. “This should be fine, right? We trust each other. It can’t be that hard.” 

“Right. Totally not rocket science. All we have to do is...” (Y/n) trailed off as he leant in, eyes fluttering closed as his lips finally met theirs. It felt like it lasted a handful of seconds - and thousands of years at the same time. He pulled back, struggling to meet their eyes. 

“Was that... how was it?” 

Plucking up what little courage they had left, (y/n) reached out and wrapped a hand in the collar of his t-shirt. “I think we need to have another go.” They took the lead this time, kissing him gently and sweetly, heart leaping as they felt his hand settle against their waist. When they pulled apart this time, they kept their hands on each other, foreheads pressed together as they caught their breath. 

Ryan was the first to speak. “(y/n), I - I’m sorry if this ruins everything, because you’re my best friend and I don’t know what I would do without you in my life, but... I like you. I really, really like you. And if it’s okay with you... I wanna keep kissing you. But not just for practice. For real.” 

He looked like he was on the verge of tears, and (y/n) hugged him, burying their head in his neck. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to say that to me.” 

He pulled back, stunned. “So you... you like me too? Seriously?” 

“Yeah, seriously, dumbass. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” They rolled their eyes and smacked him in the arm. “I’ve like liked you since we were fourteen.” 

“Dude... me too.” They stared at each other for a moment, doing the maths before cracking up. “You mean we’ve had a crush on each other this whole time and neither of us worked out that the other one felt the same?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Jeez, we’re stupid.” 

Ryan fell backwards, pulling (y/n) with him so they were laying against his chest. They’d cuddled like this during movie nights before, but it was so much more special now. “So that’s why neither of us have been on dates with anyone else, huh?” 

“Clearly we were both too busy making goo goo eyes at each other behind our own backs to think about anyone else.” 

He kissed the top of their head, grinning when they shifted upwards to kiss him properly. 

“Hey, (y/n).” 

“What?” 

“You’re a pretty good kisser, actually.” 

They snorted. “Yeah? Well, you’re not so bad yourself.”

#ok this came out adorable #fanfic #fic #oneshot #fluff #idkhow #ryan seaman #ryan seaman x reader #cute shit #high school au #first kisses! #am i living vicariously through the reader? absolutely

[robinrunsfiction]

✏️ What is your fave fic from another writer?

Oh nooo this one is hard because I've read so much fan fic over the last few years! I always genuinely enjoy fics that I reblog on here and tag with fic recommendation. Like Ron Swanson, if I recommend something, it's a guarantee.

To give some specific shout outs to friends on here:

From @xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx His Smile Will Keep You Safe, a Ryan Seaman x Reader that wrecked me in the best way, I've been aspiring to write like that for ages

From @mcrxreader The Five of Us Are Dying, and the subsequent sequels. I've toyed with the idea of doing a choose your own adventure sort of thing, but I haven't done it yet, but this one is the inspiration for it

From @mariawritesfanfic Underappreciated and not just because I requested it 😅 it really blends the sorta shitty parts with the fluff in a great way that feels really real and how life be sometimes

From @sunsetinmyvein I Know That I'll Lose like I'm not even that much of a 1975 stan, but this fic is that good that it doesn't matter

From @thewordworrier (because CMBFTW isn't done yet) Just Sleep is so cute and fluffy. Also a lot of great stuff is coming soon, yall just need to stay tuned

From @ghoulgirlwrites All I Want Is Nothing which I literally just read and it's super sweet and cute

A couple randoms I loved that I can't link to because they've been deleted, or the author deactivated: On here there was an arraigned marriage AU with Mikey that was so sweet, but that one went away sadly. I always forget how much I like an arranged marriage AU, especially if they're historical or like fantasy. I forget that one of my favorite fics that I wrote has that element to it lol. Also there was a filthy filthy Dallon smut that I loved on AO3 and I am very sad that that one went away, R.I.P.

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

No Courage - Ryan Seaman x Reader

Summary: Dallon insisted on throwing Ryan’s birthday party at the Weeke’s place, when all Ryan really wanted was to spend some time with you

Reader: female implied? idk, no pronouns, i think...

Warnings: alcohol consumption

Word count: 5 031

A/N: as promised and several days late: the Ryan Seaman birthday story. Also can someone tell me what’s up with me writing for a Ryan, the story being 4000+ words and the couple ending up cuddling on a sofa? I just think it’s perfect.

Ryan was not entirely convinced by the idea to celebrate his birthday at Dallon’s house. He kept insisting that since it was his birthday, you all should celebrate at his place, mainly because secretly he had hoped for a calm evening with some of his closest friends, who he could discreetly ask to leave around midnight in order to get some extra time just alone with you. Because let’s be honest: every time you were invited over to his place, you stayed and helped clean up. Even though he probably would not manage to be honest enough with you to tell you why exactly he loved having you over so much, he would still have you all to himself for a little while longer.

But now this plan had been foiled by Dallon, who had decided Ryan’s birthday should best be celebrated at his house. Sadly, Dallon’s arguments were better than Ryan’s. The Weekes’ living room was huge and offered lots of space for many people, way more people than would have fit into Ryan’s entire flat, and this way it had been possible to invite a lot more of his friends. Also, since the house was separated from the neighbouring houses by the garden that framed the property, they would be able to turn up the music as loud and for as long as they liked, whereas in Ryan’s flat they would need to be quiet after ten pm.

Eventually Ryan had given into Dallon’s plan, allowing Dallon to throw the birthday party for him. And so he ended up in the passenger seat of Dallon’s car, at the evening of his birthday, with you in the backseat, as he got picked up for his own party. Dallon was focusing on the street, some quiet music flowing from the speakers as the lights of the city passed by outside. He smiled as you leant forward, poking your head to the front between Dallon’s and Ryan’s seats, and pointed to one of the buildings that was coming closer, randomly dropping a fact about the building’s history.

Just a few minutes later Dallon pulled into the driveway of his home. Since it was already dark outside, you saw colourful lights skipping around inside, reminding you Dallon had spent almost the entire morning installing some party lights at the ceiling. A balloon was stuck to the front door.

In the house a lot of people already waited for Ryan to finally arrive. He was welcomed with cheers and hugs, and Awsten insisted all of you needed to sing “Happy Birthday”. After Dallon and Breezy had made sure everyone had drinks in their hands, and knew where the buffet was, people started spreading around the huge living room and the kitchen.

While you knew most of Ryan’s friends, you were not really close with any of them other than Dallon, Awsten and Josh. But as your luck wanted, they were all busy talking to someone already, so you snuck to your favourite armchair in the Weekes’ household, and sat down at the edge of the crowd, watching them.

You had never really minded being the one at the side lines. From the people in the room, you were one of the few who was not a musician or in a relationship with one. Sometimes meeting with all of them felt like stepping into an entirely different world. Occasionally it made you lonely, because you felt left out, but at the same time you knew you were basically Ryan’s best friend, and even if that did not allow you to be as close to him as you would have liked, it was still a huge honour. Even if it meant receiving phone calls from him at 2am, waking you up, in order to talk to you about music or whatever was on his mind.

You looked across the room, where Ryan was playfully boxing someone in the arm. His hair had grown longer over the past months, as long as it had not been in years. He had absolutely no right to look as soft as he did right now. Brown strands were falling in his face, and his eyes were squeezed together from smiling so hard. You absolutely loved seeing him this cheerful and carefree, so you allowed yourself to watch him a moment longer.

Across the room, Breezy’s and Dallon’s glance wandered from Ryan to you, and back.

“What if we just say we’re renovating the guest room,” Breezy asked quietly.

“Have them share the sofa?”

She nodded. “I mean, they are absolutely blind about each other’s feelings, but sleeping on the same couch should maybe get them somewhere, don’t you think?”

“Better than having one sleeping on the sofa, and the other in the guest room anyway,” Dallon agreed.

“Good, I’ll just quickly lock that room,” Breezy said, leant up to kiss Dallon’s cheek, and hurried off.

In the meantime Dallon was stuck watching how you turned away from observing Ryan, and instead scanned the room again. The second your eyes had left him, Ryan turned his head, and gazed over to where you were sitting. This was ridiculous. Everyone, literally everyone, knew that Ryan and you liked each other, and it was driving Dallon absolutely crazy that you both were too blind to realize it, or too scared to admit it.

A couple of hours later, music was blaring from the speakers in the living room. The couch and armchairs, as well as the couch table had been pushed to the side to make space for people to dance, an opportunity most were taking. The amazing birthday cake, which Breezy and you had spent all morning baking, had been eaten almost completely, and only two small pieces on a plate on the kitchen table were waiting to be eaten by some hungry party guests.

After you had pulled yourself together a couple of minutes after arriving, you had socialised a lot, and talked to almost everyone at the party. But now you had gone back to standing in a corner, watching our friends dancing through the room. Laughing you witnessed as Dallon swirled Breezy around before he dipped her, making he giggle. Some of the others were dancing in pairs as well, the rest jumping around on their own or in little groups.

“M’lady.” Surprised you turned to find Josh offering you his hand. “Care for a dance?”

Laughing you shook your head.

“I suck at dancing,” you answered, speaking loudly enough so he could hear you over the music.

“So do I,” he shrugged, still offering you his hand.

Smiling, you rolled your eyes and placed your right hand in the left hand he held out to you, allowing him to lead you a little further into the room. Turning to you, he grabbed your hand a little tighter, and placed the other on your waist, swaying a little to the beat, and striking up a conversation. Most of the time he was hard to understand over the loud music, but you caught enough of what he was saying to chat with him.

You remembered having danced with him before, at one or two other parties, and how it had always been so relaxed and fun. He was not holding you too tight, not standing too close, he did not spin you around so much as that you would get dizzy nor did he spin you so little as that it would get boring. In fact you had simply fun dancing with him.

But still you could not help but wonder what it would be like to dance with Ryan instead of Josh. You had never danced with Ryan before, at least not in the way Josh was dancing with you now; and you probably would not be so relaxed about it, always feeling like you were behaving clumsily.

Ryan in the meantime had been talking to some old band mates of his, but when they went to grab another drink, and he had turned around, his eyes searching the room for your face as always, and he had found you were not standing in the corner anymore. Confused he looked around before he spied you dancing, with Josh. You were smiling and laughing at something Josh had said, and Ryan could not help but feel a sting of jealousy in his chest as well as his stomach clenching together.

He knew Josh had no interest in you, not romantically. But what if you were interested in Josh? After all he was an amazing guy, who even asked you to dance. It annoyed Ryan that he had not been the one to ask for a dance with you first. He had thought about it, and then always pushed the thought aside, hoping he would find the courage later. And now you were dancing with someone else.

What if you started liking Josh? Maybe it was stupid to think you would fall in love with someone just because of a dance, but then again Ryan had realised he was in love with you because you had smelled on some rose bush while you were on your way walking home back from some gig, and had asked him to smell the roses too, holding the stem of the flower so he had it easier. For Ryan that had been the moment he had realised he was in love with you. Maybe he should have said it then and there on the spot, confessing his feelings with the sweet smell of these pink roses in his nose under the yellow light of some street lantern, a couple of blocks away from your home. But he had not.

Instead he knew that sometimes it were the little things that made people realise their feelings; so if dancing with Josh made you realise you had feelings for him? Ryan did not want you to have feelings for Josh, he wanted you to have feelings for him. Not that he could change much about it once it happened, but he felt annoyed anyway. If only he had asked for a dance with you first, but no, he had been too embarrassed.

Downing the last sip of his drink, Ryan decided it would probably be okay if he asked for a dance with you once the song after the next was over. But as if a higher power was desperate to make him stick to his unspoken promise, Josh let go of you by the end of the song that was playing, and even though Ryan could not understand what was being said, it looked like Josh wanted to fetch a drink as well.

Without much of his consent, Ryan’s feet started carrying him through the room and past several of his friends, while the next song started playing, and before he was fully aware what happened, he stood in front of you, holding out his hand.

“Would you like to dance?”

Ryan’s eyes were almost black in the dimly lit room, only the flickering, colourful spots of the party lights ghosted over his face. His expression was almost unreadable, but he seemed nervous.

“I-“ Surprised you stared up at him. Had you not just fantasised about this, about dancing with Ryan? Why were you hesitating? Smiling shyly, you nodded. “I’d like to.”

Uncertainly you placed your hand in his, noticing how warm his fingers were as they closed around yours. Slowly he pulled you closer to him, close enough so he could put his free hand on your waist, just like Josh had done earlier. Why did it suddenly feel like you had never danced with anyone before? Hesitantly you placed your hand on his upper arm, not daring to meet his eyes, and allowed him to guide you into a swaying motion.

Damnit, you had been right earlier when you had thought about how you would be far too nervous while dancing with Ryan to enjoy anything. Luckily Ryan seemed too focused on himself, careful not to step on your feet or bump you into anyone, to notice your slightly-off behaviour.

When the song ended Ryan made no attempt to let go of you hand, which caused butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

Luckily, both Ryan and you started relaxing over the next few songs, while he made sure never to let go of your hand. He had pulled you a little closer now, his one hand on the small of your back, the other gently holding yours, as he danced with you, spinning you out occasionally, when it fit the spirit of the song, making both of you laugh in the process.

And when the next slow song came on, he stepped even closer, so close in fact that his chest was pressed against yours now. He snuck his arm around your waist, and when you shyly gazed up at him in a mixture of surprise and adoration, you found he was already looking at you. His expression was soft, and a smile pulled at his lips as he watched your features. A strand of his hair dangled into his eyes, and following an impulse, you reached up to brush it away.

Was he blushing? It was hard to tell in the dim light. He definitely smiled a little wider, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. It felt like you were losing yourself in them, every second you did not turn to look away felt like he was staring deeper and deeper into your soul, making your heart beat a little faster, and making you fall a little deeper in love with him. The world around you fell into the background, and everything but him stopped mattering. You would have done a lot to make this moment last forever.

But later, and you were not even sure how or when, you ended up sitting on the carpet in the living room. Most of the other guests were gone already, leaving only your hosts Dallon and Breezy with Awsten, Josh, Ryan and you behind. The flickering party light had been turned off, and instead two small lamps on the wall shed warm, yellow light into the room. The playlist had been switched from upbeat songs you could dance to, to calm piano music.

Someone had prepared a cocktail for you, a mojito with a little bit too much lime for your taste. The glass stood by your side on the carpet, while your hands combed through the soft, brown hair of the drummer whose head was resting in your lap now. How Ryan had ended up there? No idea. But he lazily held a glass with his favourite cocktail balanced on his chest. It was not his first cocktail, and you were pretty sure someone at some point had just handed him a new one without him asking for it, but it really did not matter. Not when you were sitting on the soft carpet in your friend’s living room, comfortably dizzy and slightly tipsy from the drinks you had had over the course of the evening, with the man you had admired and even loved for the past years resting in your lap.

Ryan’s head was turned to the centre of the circle of people, and he laughed quietly at something that had been said. It was pretty late at night already, you realised with a glance at the clock. Your eyes felt heavy and your brain like palp, which was not only due to the alcohol, but also to being tired.

For literally hours you sat on that carpet, talking to the others, and weaving your hands through Ryan’s hair, ignoring your heavy eyelids. Ryan only moved to take a sip from his cocktail every once in a while, and sometimes his eyes met yours, making him smile before he tore his gaze away again.

By the time both Josh and Awsten decided to go home, you felt stiff from sitting for so long, and laughing Ryan helped you up, pulling a little too hard, and causing you to bump into him. Quickly he wrapped his arms around you, and held you in place, nuzzling his nose into your hair while hugging you. When he pulled away, you found Dallon was waiting to talk to you.

“Ahm… we’re kinda renovating the guest room right now, so… I guess, you’ll have to share the sofa,” he explained, with a gesture towards the piece of furniture. “You don’t mind cuddling a little closer, do you?”

Even though you had been pleasantly sleepy before, suddenly you were wide awake. Share the sofa with Ryan? Not that you would mind, but never in a thousand years would Ryan agree on-

“I don’t mind,” he shrugged, still standing so close to you that you felt the movement of his shoulders, “what about you?”

Curiously he looked down to you, but you just quickly nodded your head, agreeing on the suggestion, while at the same time you wondered what the hell you were getting yourself into.

After Awsten and Josh had called cabs and left, Breezy carried a couple of pillows and a blanket down to the living room. Dallon had pulled out the cushions of the backrest, allowing more space on the sitting cushions for Ryan and you to sleep on. After you had quickly prepared the makeshift bed, Dallon and Breezy bid you good night, and went upstairs to their bed room, leaving Ryan and you alone.

Somehow you could not help but feel like you were more nervous about the whole situation than Ryan. He just grabbed the bag with his pyjama, and started taking off his shirt of. Quickly you turned away, feeling slightly embarrassed, as if you would have invaded his privacy, even though it had been him who had just started undressing.

Grabbing your own bag, you excused yourself to the bathroom, where you dressed in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt for the night, and quickly brushed your teeth before returning to the living room, where Ryan had put on some sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt.

He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, a glass of water in hand, and looked up at you with an unreadable expression. The thought shot through your mind of how wonderful it would be, if you were to see him more often like this, comfortably dressed in a pyjama, waiting for you to come to bed. Little did you know he was thinking the exact same thing.

“I’ll go brush my teeth too,” he mumbled, and got up quickly, grabbing his tooth brush, and walked past you to the bathroom.

Looking around you noticed there were still some of the cocktail glasses standing around, so you carried them into the kitchen, placing them next to the sink. You felt weirdly sobered up already, and with a look to the clock you realised it was no surprise; it was almost 5am, and you had finished your last cocktail at around 3.

When you walked back to the living room, you tilted a window to let in some fresh air, and turned off all of the lamps that was still burning but one, leaving just enough light to find one’s way around the room.

A few moments later Ryan returned from the bathroom. A shy smile was on his lips, as he packed away his tooth brush again.

“Do you want to sleep against the backrest or at the edge,” he asked, while clipping his backpack shut.

“I don’t care, rather at the edge,” you decided, “if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t,” he smiled, and crawled on the sofa, scooting as close to the backrest as possible to make space for you.

Nervously you noticed that even like this there was not much room, especially not if you were trying not to invade his personal bubble. Actually this would be impossible, you realised.

Deciding to ignore that problem, you laid down next to him, allowing him to pull the blanket Breezy had brought, over the two of you.

“Do you have enough blanket,” he wondered, tucking around at the fabric, trying to make sure you were comfortably covered.

“I have plenty,” you reassured him, pulling it a little bit around your arm to demonstrate. “You too?”

“Yeah,” he hummed, “can I turn of the light?” He turned his head just enough to be able to look at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Sure,” you agreed, nodding and cuddling a little deeper into the pillow.

With a click the lights turned off, and you were engulfed by darkness. Now that you could not see anymore, your other senses appeared heightened. Outside the window a cricket was chirping, the fridge was humming in the kitchen, and Ryan was breathing right by your side. The pillow and the blanket smelled of an unfamiliar laundry detergent, and the fabric was a little ridged, probably from drying outside in the sun. For a while you lay in the dark, eyes open. Through the room you noticed the small red light of the turned off TV. You knew you should try to catch some sleep, but with Ryan so close next to you, you were far too distracted.

All of a sudden when you had almost been sure Ryan would have fallen asleep by now, he spoke up.

“(y/n)?”

You hummed quietly, signalling him you were awake.

For a moment there was silence, before he continued.

“I know this is a weird moment, and maybe really unfitting, but I’m tired enough and maybe still tipsy enough to have the courage to say this, but I really, really like you.”

Your eyes grew wider in surprise, not that it would have allowed you to see any more in the dark room, and Ryan could not see your reaction either. Your heart started hammering, and your breath grew quicker, as you turned your head to the side, trying to see Ryan’s face through the dark. He was lying on his back, facing up to the ceiling. A tiny reflection gave away that his eyes were open.

“Actually,” he stopped, “no, scrap that. Fuck, I’ve been in love with you for so long and I’m just scared to tell you how I feel, and too awkward to show you subtly, and definitely not the type who could sweep you off your feet with his charms, but… I just figured we had a lot of fun tonight, dancing and talking and… it all meant so much to me. Like… I know Josh danced with you first, because I was too much of a coward, and I’m really glad you two get along, but I kinda don’t want you to like him more than as just a friend, because I like you more than as just a friend, and I know that just because I want it, doesn’t change anything if you don’t feel the same way for me but… yeah, I know it’s awkward and weird, because you’re actually my best friend, and it’s kind of a real asshole move of me to tell you this while we’re supposed to sleep next to each other when you’ve got nowhere to go but… you know? Before my courage leaves me and all.”

You listened to him, allowed him to spill all his thoughts. It felt weirdly liberating to hear him talk about his emotions, so naïvely honest from lack of sleep. He was saying all the things you had dreamt of hearing him say for so long, and you could not help but smile when he talked about Josh. You wanted him to know that it was okay that he had hesitated to ask you for a dance; wanted to assure him that just because he told you in this weird situation of lying next to you in the dark, you were not mad with him; wanted to laugh at him because of course you did not like Josh more than you liked him; wanted to let him know that you could understand why he had never mentioned anything before. After all, neither had you. But you were too overwhelmed by his confession. This was something you definitely had not seen coming at all, so you were left entirely speechless.

Once you had finally processed his words, you turned to lie on your side. He was still staring up to the ceiling, and flinched in surprise as he felt your soft hand brush against his cheek. Slowly he turned his head to look at you.

“So what do you think,” he wondered, as if asking for your opinion on his feelings.

In the little light it was hard to make out his face, but the way you knew him, you supposed he was furrowing his brows a little.

“Can you kiss me?”

Your words were so quiet that you were not sure if you had even spoken them, not to mention whether Ryan had heard them, especially because for a few seconds he did not move.

When he did, he pushed himself up, supporting his weight on his elbow, and looked at you confused.

“What,” he asked weakly, his expression hidden in the dark.

“Just thought it would make sense, you know, if you like me and I like you…” you explained quietly, suddenly feeling almost ashamed for your boldness.

“No. No, no, no, (y/n), you- you don’t understand,” Ryan protested. “I don’t just like you, I… I’ve been thinking about you every night before falling asleep for… years, probably, I lost count. I don’t just like you. I love you. I love you as my best friend, and I love you as so much more than that. And I don’t want you to just kiss me because you like me, because I’m your friend. I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, but I don’t think I can, or want to, kiss you without you feeling this way too. I just wanted you to know how I –“

You silenced him with a finger to where you assumed his lips were, an apparently you had aimed correctly.

“I wouldn’t ask my best friend to kiss me if I wouldn’t have been in love with him for ages, don’t worry,” you defended, trying to see his reaction in the dark, but failing.

For a moment there was absolute silence, even the fridge seemed to have quieted down all of a sudden. And before you even realised what happened, Ryan had grabbed the wrist of your hand that was reaching up to his face, and had pinned it next to your head, while he leant down, and crashed his lips against yours, finding them even in the dark.

At first it seemed like all air was knocked out of your lungs before you remembered how to breathe again. You turned slightly so you were on your back, Ryan leaning over you, his fingers intertwining with yours from the hand he had grabbed, while he used the other to keep himself propped up over you. Your free hand had wrapped into his nape, weaving into the hair and holding him close. He tasted of toothpaste and orange liquor from the drink earlier, maybe even still a bit of alcohol, all of it strange and intoxicating and so much more than you could have ever imagined. His lips were a dry, but still soft, like the skin on his neck and the hair that wrapped around your fingers. Ryan’s breath was uneven, just like your own, and you could feel his heart beat against your chest in sync with yours.

His kisses were urgent and passionate, as if he could not believe what was happening, as if he had to take as much of the moment as possible should it turn out not to be real. And if you were quite honest, you too felt like you could not believe it. Soon enough he nibbled at your lower lip, asking you wordlessly to open your mouth for him. You complied, earning a quiet sigh from him as he kissed you deeper. Like a lightning the sound went through your body, and a feeling of pride and satisfaction settled in your chest, realising it was just because of you that he had made that little sound.

All too soon your mind was a dizzy mess, and no matter how addicting and intoxicating Ryan’s kisses were, you needed a break. Turning your head slightly, you broke the kiss, but instead of pulling away immediately, Ryan pressed a short kiss against your cheek and then against your jaw, before he brushed his nose against yours, and leant back a little, settling at your side. Since it was so dark, it was hard to make out the details of his face, but you could see the smile that spread over his features. It was the kind of smile he was not even aware he carried, making it all the more beautiful.

For a while you just looked at each other, your eyes finally growing a little more used to the darkness around you, allowing seeing more details; the crinkles around his eyes, the dimples on his cheeks, the hair that fell into his forehead. Slowly his eyes started falling closed, no matter how hard he tried to stay awake, blinking again and again, and you too felt overwhelming tiredness pull you towards sleep.

“Can we cuddle,” he asked suddenly, his eyes already closed. It was a strange question, because you were already snuggled into his side with his arm wrapped around you.

Not answering, you scooted as close as possible, and hugged him around his middle. Immediately, as if he had done it a thousand times already, and in his mind he probably had, he tightened his embrace around you, pulling you so close that your bodies were pressed against each other. His forehead was gently resting against yours, and as he pressed a short kiss to your lips again, you could feel how he smiled, causing you to smile a little brighter as well, before you shuffled around to lay more comfortably, and fell asleep in his arms.

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Baking - Ryan Seaman x Reader (Christmas Calendar 2020)

Prompt: Baking (How does baking sweets go? For or with someone?) - These drabbles are all inspired by @kairaiimagines​​​ Christmas Alphabeth

Warnings: awfully sweet

Word count: 658

A/N: uhh... idk if other countries have stollen too. For those who don’t know what it is: it’s yeast dough with candid lemon peel, raisins and lots of Christmas-y spices and in some cases (as in this story) the dough can be rolled out, marzipan can be added, and then rolled back together. Add icing sugar after baking and tada. Super yummy.

“Quit it!” Annoyed you swatted Ryan’s hand away, who giggled gleefully, skipping away from the kitchen counter you were working at. “If you keep stealing marzipan, there’ll be nothing left for the stollen!”

“Aww,” he grinned, and approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist, “you know I love marzipan.”

His hair tickled your neck. It had grown long these past months, and whenever your hands were not sticky from sugar and butter, you loved running them through his locks. You smiled as you felt him press his lips against the side of your neck.

“I do, and I also know that you love the marzipan stollen even more,” you shot back.

Ryan sighed and pulled away, leaning against the kitchen counter next to you.

“You’re cruel,” he whined, but at the same time you spotted his hand sneaking towards the bowl where you had prepared the raisins.

“Ryan,” you warned, unable to stop grinning.

“Just one?”

You rolled your eyes at him, and turned away from where you had weighted the right amounts of candid lemon peel and almonds. Grabbing the bag with the left over raisins you did not need for baking, you turned back to Ryan, who already extended his hands for them hopefully.

“One condition,” at the sound of your voice his dorky smile faltered a little, “you leave the rest of the ingredients alone. Or you won’t get any of the stollen this year and I’ll eat it all myself.”

Ryan’s eyes widened at the threat. He never quite knew when you were serious with these kinds of things. It intrigued him to no end, and made him love you even more, day by day. Was that even still possible at this point? Apparently.

“I promise,” he quickly nodded, and you had to hide your giggle at his seriousness.

You dropped the bag into his hands, and with a smile you watched him pull off the rubber band that closed the plastic bag, before he shoved his hand inside and pulled out a handful of the dried fruit. Putting the bag on the counter top, he picked a raisin between thumb and index finger, and brought it up to your lips. You smiled before opening your mouth, and letting him feed you the treat. He grinned and quickly kissed your lips, before you turned back to continue your work, now adding the different, missing ingredients, minus the marzipan, to the yeast dough, before rolling it out.

Ryan placed himself back against the kitchen counter and watched you work, later even helping rolling out the marzipan (you saw him steal a couple more pieces, but he did not have to know that), before you rolled the dough and the marzipan into the traditional stollen shape.

A couple of hours later, after the stollen had risen again, you had finally been able to put it into the oven, allowing yourself to settle on the sofa. The flat started smelling deliciously of baked yeast dough and Christmas.

Ryan had immediately cuddled into your side, the empty raisin bag discarded on the kitchen table. Since you had washed your hands, you ran them gently through Ryan’s hair, every now and then earning a content hum from him. He always got super affectionate around Christmas. Not that you minded, not in the least. You thought it was rather amusing, seeing your (usually rather independent) boyfriend turn into a little puppy, following you around everywhere. But you did not mind, not in winter, when it was cold and most of the time also dark outside, not when you felt like you needed someone by your side anyway. And even if that had not been the case, how could you say no to Ryan?

Tightening your embrace around him, you nuzzled your nose into his hair and inhaled his familiar smell. He smelled like safety, like home. Oh, you could not wait for Christmas to come this year.

General: @robinruns @starduststyx  @jayloverthe3rd @lookalivefrostyslibrary @butterflycore​ @vamp-void​ @angelevansfalls​

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#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman x reader imagine #ryan seaman x reader imagines #ryan seaman x reader fanfiction #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman imagines #ryan seaman fanfiction #ryan seaman fan fic #idkhow fanfic #idkhow fanfiction #idkhow imagines #idkhow imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #imagine #imagines #cute #fluff #christmas calendar #christmas calendar 2020 #advent calendar 2020 #advent calendar

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The Best Present - Ryan Seaman x Reader

Summary: The reader had a terrible Christmas Day in company of her family, but luckily her best friend Ryan drops by to save the day. Reader: female Word count: 4 549 A/N: My Christmas was not very good this year, and pretty close to how I’ve described it here, but instead of annoying relatives I have a bad cough now. So if the proof reading failed even harder than usually, it’s bc I’m sick.

“Fuck.”

Slamming the door to your room shut behind you, you leant your back against it, your head falling into your neck, and bumping a little bit too forcefully against the dark wood.

It was Christmas Day, usually a day of cheer and happiness all around, at least if you would believe all the TV movies, and the commercials, the shops, and your friends’ social media posts. But this year your reality was far from it.

You liked Christmas, always had, even though your family was not religious. For you it was less about religion than about the opportunity to meet with everyone, sit down over presents that acknowledged how much you appreciated each other, and have delicious food. It was a tradition, but not a religious one. And as childish as it sounded, you were always excited for the Christmas Days. Even as an adult you usually did not mind the stress it brought along. It was fun to think about what you wanted to get for who, you enjoyed writing Christmas cards, and you loved decorating and backing, and even had fun with helping your parents cook the Christmas Dinner.

But this year everything was different. You had gotten ill in the beginning of December, ruining the first week already, which left not as much time to do things like present shopping, and writing cards. Additionally to that your Christmas decoration had fallen victim to a flooded basement in spring, and since you did not want to spend all your savings on new decoration, there had been only very little of it in your flat this year.

Secretly you had hoped your mother might have found the time to do some baking, but that too had not happened, since your mother had gotten the flu, and had been sick for almost a month, now being just barely fine enough to not sleep the whole day. And that also explained the state of your parents’ house. Since your father did not care much for Christmas, and your mother had been very sick, there were only very few decorations here as well. The Christmas tree was the benjamin fig, a few plastic baubles, and a Christmas light trying to make it look at least a little festive.

All that would have been not all too upsetting. Also the fact that neither of your parents had made the effort to get you anything but money was okay to live with. Sure, you would have been happier about an ugly scarf, or some colourful socks, but you knew your parents had had enough trouble, and it had been easiest just to give the money to you so you could spend it on the stuff you liked. Not even the lack of festive food this year would have ruined anything for you, but all these things combined with the mood your parents were in, the constant bickering of your relatives, and the over the day increasing social anxiety finally managed to ruin this Christmas for you completely.

Of course it could have been worse; your parents telling you one of them had cancer, the house burning down, the relatives dying in a car crash- but just because it could have come worse did not mean you had no right to be upset. Up to a certain point you could understand why your mother was stressing about how the house was not freshly cleaned, and the shelves not dusted; your grandparents really were a pain in the ass when it came to cleaning. But she stressed herself so much that she almost started crying in the kitchen while the family had sat in the living room, having tea and not-Christmas-biscuits.

Your father was generally just annoyed with everyone and everything, and whenever you tried to help you did everything wrong, not to mention the debate about politics he started with your mother’s brother in law, which made you want to puke on the table.

And then there were your noisy grandparents, uncle, and aunt. They proudly told everyone about their kids, your grandparents letting you more or less directly know that they expected you to have kids soon too, until your aunt condescendingly stated that there had to be more than one reason that you were still single, and that it probably would not ever change.

While she was right about the reasons of you still being single, they were much different to what she was implying. For years you had been, in the beginning less, but recently more and more, in love with your best friend Ryan. And that was the first reason you were single. There was no way you were possibly ruining your friendship with him just to tell him what he meant to you. And the second reason was that, unlike your cousin, you did not throw yourself at people just to have sex with them, accidently get pregnant, and then having to marry out of social pressure.

So as soon as the whole “sitting together, pretending to be in a good mood”- situation was over, you had escaped to your old room under the roof.

Pressing your eyes closed, the only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted to talk to Ryan now. He was a drummer, the band, which he was currently a member in, on a steady rise to fame. Just the week before Christmas he had played shows away from home, so you had not gotten the opportunity to meet before Christmas, and you desperately missed him. Not only because it had been so long, but also because right now he was the only person who would be able to cheer you up.

Getting up from the floor, you walked over to your bed, where your mobile phone was charging. There had been a strict no-mobile-policy at the table today, not that your uncle had cared much about that, so you had left your mobile in your room. The second before your pressed the button to turn on the screen, you found yourself hoping that there would be at least a couple of messages from friends, but the only notification you had gotten was one of your co-worker’s Instagram, because she had posted a sickly sweet selfie of herself and her fiancé under the Christmas tree. Angrily you closed the app, and pulled up your phonebook.

You wanted to be happy too, you wanted to take sickly sweet selfies with your boyfriend, preferably Ryan, too, you wanted to go to Christmas markets with friends, wanted to put silly decorations up on your Christmas tree, wanted to have one of these picture book Christmas Days that everyone else pretended to have. Clenching your jaw, in order not to cry, you pressed Ryan’s name, patiently waiting for the lines to connect. There was some rustling on the other end, when he picked up.

“I can’t talk right now, I’m driving, I’ll call you back (y/n).”

And then he hung up.

Taking a deep breath, you sat down on your bed. You knew it was right that Ryan did not want to talk while driving; he had no hands-free-kit. But your best friend not being able to talk to you when you needed him so much, fit so perfectly into this stupid day.

Downstairs people were talking. Your mother and grandmothers had disappeared into the kitchen, and your dad had wanted to show your uncle the newest external hard discs he had acquired, so you had taken the opportunity to get a moment for yourself, but now they had seemed to notice that you were missing. Knowing your quiet seconds were running out, you took a deep breath, and tried to think of anything that was not Christmas, your family, or Ryan.

Outside a car drove up the street, and you wondered if their Christmas had been as shitty as yours. But then the car slowed down, and you realised that, while you only recognised the sound of a single car in this world, this car had just stopped outside your house. Quickly you got up, and ran to your window, just to be sure, but of course it was Ryan’s car, that had pulled to the side of the street, right in front of your garden.

Forgetting that just a moment ago you had been all sad and close to tears, you ran out of your room, and almost bumped into your mother, who was on her way up the stairs.

“There you are,” she noticed, out of breath from still not having recovered from her flu.

“Here I am,” you agreed, and slipped past her, but you were not quick enough to reach the ground floor before the doorbell rang. Your uncle opened up, and even from one floor above, you could feel his judging glare at your best friend.

“Hello?” Your uncle asked, and you sped up your steps even more, desperate to save Ryan from getting any weird comments thrown at him.

“Hi, merry Christmas!” Ryan’s voice was as cheerful as ever, as if he had not noticed the hostility in your uncle’s voice.

“Who are you,” you uncle asked, and you knew he was close to throwing the door shut again.

“Oh, I’m a friend of- (y/n)!”

Almost falling over your own feet you finally reached the hallway, and came to a stop next to your uncle.

“Ryan! What are you doing here,” you asked, out of breath from running across the whole house.

“I’m here to wish you a merry Christmas! I brought cookies.”

Grinning brightly, he held out a tin box for you.

“We already had tea,” you uncle stated, and already reached for the door to close it into Ryan’s face, but you were quicker.

“Thank you so much, please come in.”

Ryan grinned and handed you the box, before he took off his shoes, and stepped into the warm house.

What followed was a long introduction to your whole family, your uncle and aunt being terribly displeased as to why someone who was not family dared coming over on Christmas Day, your grandparents not really caring, and your mother being delighted to see Ryan again; she had always liked him.

Luckily none of your family members seemed too keen on the company of the band shirt, leather jacket, skinny ripped jeans wearing musician, so you soon excused yourself to your room.

While Ryan had been over at your parents’ house a couple of times, he had never been to your old room, so you were not surprised to find him looking around curiously. You walked over to your bed and turned on the fairy lights that were wrapped around the head board, and lit the candle that stood in the window. When you turned back to Ryan, he awkwardly stood in the middle of the room.

“Come on, take your jacket off, sit down,” you encouraged, and walked over to your bed, sitting down yourself, patting the spot next to you.

Ryan shrugged off his jacket, and crawled on the bed, sitting crossed legged next to you.

“This is comfy,” he laughed, running his fingers over your soft day blanket.

“Thanks,” you laughed, “That’s why I own it.”

“Oh really! I thought it was because you knew the colour would make such a perfect addition to my clothes today,” Ryan joked and pulled the edge of the blanked over his legs as if he was posing for a camera.

“Idiot,” you grinned, and gently hit his leg, making him laugh even more, before he let himself fall to his back, his head resting on your pillow, his dark hair spreading around his head like a little halo. He looked so beautiful like that, you caught yourself thinking, and you wished you would get to see that every day.

“So your Christmas-” Ryan turned his head to look at you, “seems to be going well?”

You groaned and lay down next to him.

“Absolutely fantastic, as you probably already could tell from my uncle welcoming you so warmly,” you mumbled.

“I already guessed that much when you said your whole family was coming over,” he admitted, “is that why you called?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t take it anymore. Down there I feel like I’m suffocating. It’s- it’s like I’m completely out of place. Everyone is so proud of my cousin for getting that promotion, and for getting married, and she’s gonna have a baby, and they were so cute at the wedding, and oh my god!” You mockingly imitated your aunt’s fake high pitched voice. “But that she only got pregnant because she doesn’t know what a fucking condom is, and that the father was some poor random guy in a club who thought he could have a one-night stand with some chick, and then got forced into marrying her by my family, that’s what nobody mentions.” Annoyed you huffed. “Instead they are being portrayed as if they were the absolute dream couple now, and I’m expected to be just as brilliant as them.”

You couldn’t help the ramble, but it felt good venting to someone. Of course Ryan had already known the whole story, but he also knew that since the wedding in autumn, your family, especially your grandparents, had started to ask stupid questions, and you were almost certain downstairs was a big debate going on about what kind of relationship you had with Ryan.

“But you’re not, you’re more brilliant,” Ryan nudged your shoulder gently, a soft smile on his lips as you turned your head to look at him.

“Ha, that’s nice,” you responded, and you were not sure if you were being sarcastic or sincere.

“No, but seriously, you’re doing great too, in your own way! Hey, have you even told them that you’re going to be our official photographer from next year on?”

You smiled too, remembering how the label had, admittedly with a little encouragement from Ryan, who had gently nudged them into the right direction, asked you if you were interested in being iDKHOW’s photographer, and had offered you a contract, which you had gladly taken. The main problem about mentioning something like that to your extended family already started with your job itself. To them photography was no real job, since “everybody can take pictures”. And then telling them you would travel around the country with a band would probably start a civil war in your parents’ living room.

“Not yet, I thought about telling my parents over the weekend,” you explained, “if I break the news while my uncle and my grandparents are still here, we’ll have to call the cops or something because they’ll start bashing each other’s heads in.”

Ryan nodded, and for a while you were laying on the bed quietly, both thinking about your own problems. Or rather, Ryan was thinking about your problems with your family, and you were thinking about Ryan.

“Oh wait,” suddenly he sat up again, “I got you something.”

Jumping off the bed, he walked over to the door where he had put up his jacket on a hanger. Remembering you also had gotten him a tiny Christmas present, you lay on your stomach to reach over to the bed side table, from which you pulled the small bag with his gift.

Quicker than you expected, he was back on the bed next to you, tickling your sides, making you laugh until you were out of breath.

When he finally let you go, you sat up; hair dishevelled, and face red from laughing so hard.

“Here.” Grinning you stretched out your hand, offering him the small, velvet bag.

“No, you first,” he insisted, handing you a small box.

It was black, made from thick paper, and had a golden embossing, displaying the name of a jeweller’s shop. Carefully you opened the box, and found a thin, silver necklace. The links were so tiny that you wondered how it was even possible to craft something so delicate. The pendant was equally small and fragile, but you immediately recognized the round shape as a cymbal from a drum set, even the black logo of the Meinl company was realistically carved into the silver.

“That’s like giving me a necklace that says ‘this person belongs to Ryan Seaman’,“ you laughed, knowing that Ryan only played with cymbals from the Meinl company.

Ryan just grinned and shrugged with a smile, as he watched your take out the necklace.

“What’s that date?”

You had turned around the pendant, and found a date edged into the back of it.

“That’s when we first met,” Ryan confessed, “at that concert, remember?”

Of course you remembered. A friend had asked you to accompany her to a concert, and you had agreed, even though you had not known the band, but you had taken the liberty to practice your photographing skills a little. After the show you had bumped into Ryan at the bar, and recognised him as the drummer. You probably would not have payed too much attention to him on stage had your friend not pointed out that he was just jumping in for the regular drummer who had gotten terribly ill. Somehow your friend had timed her comment exactly to a moment in which Ryan was playing especially passionately, and you had been unable to tear your eyes off of him for the rest of the show. When you and your friend recognised him, she insisted on talking to him, and that’s how you had gotten to know each other.

“Has it really been this long,” you wondered, running your fingertips over the date of several years ago.

“Crazy, right,” Ryan nodded, watching you as you marvelled at the jewellery.

“Can you help me?” Holding out the necklace to him, you turned around a little.

He scooted closer, and took it out of your hands.

“Can you pull your hair aside,” he asked quietly, and you did as he asked, before he opened the clasp, and carefully put the fragile necklace around your neck. Trying to close the clasp again he struggled slightly, and it took a moment. His fingers were warm as they slightly brushed against the skin of your nape, and the tiny touch sent a shiver down your spine.

“Done,” he eventually noted, “this clasp is seriously tiny.”

You smiled and turned back to him, your fingers automatically moving to the small pendant that was now resting on your pullover.

“Thank you so much, this is perfect,” you beamed.

“I’m glad you like it.”

For a long while you just looked at each other. It felt like you were getting lost in his dark brown eyes, a soft expression on his face as he took you in.

Suddenly there was a crash downstairs, followed by howling laughter, which tore you back into reality.

“Oh, I got you something too,” you finally remembered.

Once more you held out the small, velvet bag for Ryan to take, and this time he did.

Slowly he pulled open the two strings that had held the bag closed, and shook out a bracelet, made from cold shining steel. Between the links, exactly in the middle of the bracelet, was a plate, with an engraving.

“World’s Best Drummer,” Ryan read out loud, and laughed, “Seriously?”

“Well, I’m biased, but yeah,” you grinned, feeling yourself blush.

Honestly, you had debated for a long time whether you really should give Ryan the bracelet, but in the end it could either be funny or romantic, and as long as he would not explicitly ask, he would never know which of those two you had intended.

“This year is really drums centred, ey,” he joked, “help me?”

He held both his hand with the bracelet, and the other wrist out to you, so you scooted closer and took the metal out of his hand, and even though you had tried not to touch him, your fingertips brushed over his, the sensation shooting through your nervous system like a lightning bolt. The jewellery was heavy in your hand, and with skilled fingers you opened the clasp like Ryan had done with your necklace earlier.

He already held out his left hand for you, so you quickly wrapped the small chain around his wrist, and tried to close the clasp, but like him, you lost grip on the fine mechanics, and the one end of the bracelet slipped away. Nervously you looked at Ryan, but he was completely focused on your hands, watching how you tried to close the small carabiner hook. Quickly you focused back on the task, your fingers shaking slightly, which did not help. Finally, after almost half a dozen tries, you caught the eyelet, and were able to let go of the metal. Intending to pull back, you released an internal sigh, but suddenly, before you were able to move away too far, Ryan’s hands closed around yours, gently taking hold of them.

“Your hands are cold,” he noted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You just nodded. His hands were way bigger than yours, warm, and dry, steady, and somehow so familiar, even though he had never held your hands like this. A part of your mind was trying to panic, trying to make your heart race in your chest, trying to make you blush, but a bigger part suddenly felt very calm. Ryan’s presence alone always made you happier and calmer, and now that he was holding your hands, you felt completely at peace.

You knew he was watching your face, but you kept your eyes fixed on your hands, on the way his fingers wrapped around yours, and how he drew small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

After a while you grew aware of how close you were actually sitting; both facing each other, crossed legged, so close that your knees bumped against each other, your hands hanging between your bodies while Ryan played with your fingers, which you still had not averted your gaze from. Over time both of you had lent in, so that your foreheads were almost resting against each other, but only almost.

Downstairs voices were laughing too loudly; probably your mother had pulled out the egg nog, hoping to dissolve the tension. But this time neither Ryan nor you cared. You just looked at how his long, elegant fingers were brushing over yours again and again, an invisible pattern to an inaudible rhythm.

Somehow it filled you with sadness, thinking that this might be the only time you would hold hands with Ryan, and as if he had heard your thoughts, he tightened his grip around your hands, making you look up at him.

His face was a lot closer than you had expected, so close that you could feel the warm air of every single of his exhales on your skin. Everything about Ryan seemed to be warm, warm and safe and soft and inviting. Even his eyes held warmth as they scanned your face. The crinkles he had when he was smiling were gone, but there was softness in his gaze that you had never seen like this before. His skin was even and smooth, except for the jaw and around his lips, where he was not cleanly shaven.

You wonder if you had ever seen him shaven cleanly. Probably not. Your eyes wandered over his lips, which looked so kissable right now, or rather: always. When your gaze had wandered back to his eyes, you found he had been watching you the whole time. Curiously he tilted his head, just a tiny bit, and a smile pulled on his lips. And there they were, the crinkles, immediately playing around his eyes again, making you smile just as softly. You held his gaze, the strange feeling of him being able to look into your soul overcoming you all of a sudden.

Slowly your smiles faded, the expression of both of your faces just as loving as before. For a moment Ryan’s eyes flickered down to your lips, but when he looked back at your eyes, and you did not move to pull away, he took the courage and leant in, gently pressing his lips to yours in a hesitant kiss.

Even though you had seen it coming, your breath hitched, and your heart skipped a beat. His lips were soft, chapped, but soft, and just as warm as you had always imagined. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you shivered slightly when he let go of one of your hands, placing it at the side of your face, carefully holding you in place. For a good while the kiss stayed shy, timid, but as if suddenly something had snapped in Ryan, he unfolded his knees, and pushed you over, so you were on your back, never breaking the kiss, and instead deepening it. Since he had let go of your hands now, using the second to hold himself up over you so you were not crushed by his weight, you finally had the opportunity to use your hands too, one of them immediately traveling to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer, while you gripped into his shirt with the other.

You had started to feel lightheaded a while ago, as if you were drifting away from the ground, and holding onto Ryan gave you the feeling to stay on the floor, until you realised your light-headedness originated in the lack of oxygen. But you could not care any less about that, not right now. Ryan was kissing you so desperately and so sweetly, that nothing else mattered. It was felt he was pouring all of the emotions he had ever felt about you into that kiss, wave after wave, not leaving a speck of doubt that he might not feel the same for you as you felt for him. Later you would learn that he had almost immediately fallen in love with you, from the first moment on, and that’s how he had remembered the date you had first met. But in that moment, in which he kissed you, that was just a distant suspicion, and did not matter, because your mind was too occupied trying to convey your own emotions as well as taking in all the feelings you were getting from him.

The peaceful moment was rudely interrupted by a heavy knock on the door, which made Ryan and you pull apart.

“(y/n), uncle and aunt are leaving, and they want you to say good bye,” you mother spoke through the door.

Quietly you sighed, and opened your eyes. Ryan’s face was closely hovering over yours, his cheeks pinks, his lips red and swollen, an annoyed but also slightly amused expression on his face.

“I’ll be down in a moment,” you answered your mother, loud enough for her to hear through the closed door.

When you heard her steps moving away from your room, you sighed again, this time a little louder.

“Merry Christmas,” you shook your head, clearly being sarcastic.

Ryan moved so you could sit up, and brushed a strand of hair out of your face, a grin plastered on his face as he felt you lean into his touch.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered softly, and kissed you again.

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Mutual - Ryan Seaman x Reader

Request: Ryan Seaman x reader where reader is in a band that Ryan really likes and one day they meet and romance ensues?? 💕 Word count: 1 890

Nervously Ryan took a look at his mobile. It was almost 9pm, the opening band had left the stage almost twenty minutes ago, and everything was set for the main band, the Midnight Demons, which he had come to see. Being a musician himself, he knew how much time was needed to get everything ready between bands, but now it had to be only a matter of minutes until the lights would dim, and the main band would enter the stage.

It did not matter how often he had seen that band play already, or that he was often performing on stages just like this one himself, he was excited and nervous, and when finally the lights turned off, and the music that had been playing stopped, he couldn’t help but get on his tiptoes to see better.

The venue was not big, maybe three or four hundred people, and he was well in the first quarter, at the right side of the room, with a perfect view to where you, the guitarist and singer of the band, would be standing. Part of him felt silly, like one of the overexcited teenage girls he met at his own shows. He had never minded them, but the difference between them was that they were about half his age, and he had always felt like it was somehow socially more acceptable for girls to be huge fans of bands.

But that did not change the way he felt about the Midnight Demons.

As far as he knew, they were a few years younger than him, but had been around for ages already. Their music was a mixture of polemic criticism of society and politics, honest face-to-face with everyday problems, and the occasional love ballad. They had drawn him in from the first moment on. And now, years later, he still made sure to catch every concert every time they were close by. Sadly it had almost been year now since he had last seen them play, due to touring himself, but now, that the lights dimmed he could not find it in himself to care about the missed opportunities over the year.

The first one to enter the stage was the drummer. Ryan had always admired his style, it being so very different from his own. The rhythm guitarist and lead singer followed, a young woman with long hair pulled into a messy tail. And then there were you. Your guitar hung around your shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You strode over to your mic, giving a shy smile to the audience, and plugged your guitar in, before quickly checking all the pedals. How dare you to still smile so shyly while walking on stage after what, ten, fifteen years? Ryan barely noticed the bassist and pianist go on stage as well, because he was watching you.

When he had gotten first into the Midnight Demons, he had only listened to the music, and for a long while he had had no idea what any of you looked like. But he had always loved the harmonies the backing vocals created in mixture with the lead vocals, and he was most definitely in love with the difficult riffs and runs you were playing. Only when he had gone to the very first concert, he had realised that you were not only exceptionally talented, but also incredibly beautiful, and ever since it had been hard for him to focus on anything else as long as you were around.

Soon he got lost in the music, only sometimes stopping to admire your skill when you were playing one of the difficult solos. When the lead singer asked everyone to take out their phone torches for the next song, a love ballade from the new album, he took the chance, and filmed part of the performance at the same time, wanting to have a little piece of recorded memory from the show.

All too soon the concert was over, and only now he noticed how exhausted he was. The set had been long, almost two hours, and from the jumping around, and singing along he was sweaty and thirsty.

After grabbing a drink from the bar, he sat down close to the merch table, waiting for the crowd to disperse so he could grab a shirt and a copy of the new album. Then he would take the bus home, and hopefully not have a muscle ache from jumping around so much, tomorrow.

Once he had finished his drink, most of the people had already left, and only a few still hung around the merch table, so he took the opportunity, and took a look at the different shirt designs. Once he had decided on one, he stepped up the table, almost bumping into a person who had tried to slide past him in just that moment.

“Sorry, sorry,” he quickly apologized, and his heart almost stopped when he recognized the person to be you.

Your hair was wet, and you wore different clothes than on stage. That, plus the smell of shampoo made him assume you had taken a quick shower backstage, and then decided to come out here. As far as he knew you had never done that before, and the rest of the band was nowhere in sight either.

“No problem, nothing happened,” you smiled at him, giving him yet another almost-heart-attack.

Gracefully you slipped behind the merch table, and looked at him expectantly.

“Already decided on what you want?”

It took Ryan a moment to understand that you were asking which article from merch he wanted to get, and he quickly stuttered his answer.

You nodded and turned around to search through the shirts, before eventually pulling out one with the design he had decided on.

“You’re lucky,” you grinned, presenting the shirt to him, letting him check if the print was alright, “this is the last one in your size. We held it back just for you.”

Damn, was he really blushing as hard as it felt like he was? How old was he again? Thirteen?

“And, could I also maybe have a CD, please,” he asked, making you gasp in mock-shock.

“You don’t have the CD already,” you asked wide eyes, but with a grin on your face, “that’s a scandal.”

“Yeah, I’m late; I know,” he admitted, nervously fumbling for his wallet.

“Better late than never, right?”

“I guess so, I mean, I did listen to the music online,” he admitted, making shake your head with a smile.

“That’s cool, thanks,” you answered, “uhm, the shirt and the CD… that makes 35dollars.”

Ryan handed you two twenty dollar notes, and you gave him back five, which almost made his heart sink again, because this meant your conversation was as good as over until he remembered he could ask for a picture. Again he felt like one of the teenage girls who came up to him after his shows with iDKHOW, but he pushed the feeling aside.

“Hey, even if this might be a bit weird, but do you think we could take a picture together?”

You grinned and nodded happily at his question, so he quickly pulled out his mobile while you made your way back around the table next to him. When he had started the camera, you put your arm around his back as if it was the most natural thing in the world, making his heart skip a beat, before he placed his arm around you in return. You were shorter than him, so he angled the camera downwards a little, and when he saw you lean into him, he could not help the fond grin on his face as he quickly snapped a couple of pictures, hoping that at least one of them would turn out not completely blurred.

“Thank you so much, the show was amazing,” he mumbled, when he pulled away again, making you laugh quietly.

“Thank you, I’m glad you had a good time, Ryan.”

Surprised he turned to look at you.

“How do you know my name,” he asked confused, making you laugh again.

“I may or may not be totally in love with iDKHOW,” you confessed, and for a moment he was not sure if it wasn’t your turn to blush now.

“Really,” he asked surprised, finally feeling like he regained some of his confidence.

“Yeah, I was at a couple of shows, I really enjoyed it,” you explained, making him smile embarrassedly.

“Why didn’t you say anything, we could have met up afterwards,” he asked, suddenly feeling like maybe you knew him better than he had originally assumed.

“Because I didn’t know you knew the Midnight Demons,” you asked back, “it only would have been super awkward if you had had no idea who I am.”

Ryan laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, right, you couldn’t have known.”

For a moment you looked at each other hesitantly, before you spoke up again.

“Sooo, I’m thinking… I still have some work to do here, but maybe… I don’t know. This is a stupid idea, forget it” you looked away, and this time Ryan was sure you were blushing.

“No, what were you about to say,” he inquired curiously.

“If you like we could go out for a drink? The rest of the band is already on their way home, but I really feel like staying out a little longer, what do you think?”

Surprised Ryan looked at you. Had you really just asked him out for drinks?

“Uhm, sure, I don’t mind waiting,” he finally stuttered out, making you smile.

“Great, I’ll try to hurry.”

Luckily there were only a couple of fans left, and even though you took the liberty to have a chat with each one of them, you did not take very long, but long enough for Ryan to realise what exactly had happened. You had really asked him to come out for a couple of drinks! He was about to go to a bar, or restaurant, or club, or whatever, with you, one of the people whose skill and character he had admired for years from afar, not to mention that you even knew who he was.

After you had said good bye to the last people, and the guy who had helped sell the merch, you strode over to find Ryan leaning against a wall next to the exit. He had a black leather jacket pulled over his shoulder, and you were wrapped in your own jacket as well, protecting you against the cold outside.

“Shall we,” you asked, and watched as he pushed himself off the wall.

He grinned shyly, and knowing it was directed at you personally made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“Of course,” he held the door open for you, and together you stepped outside into the night.

“I was thinking we could go to this small pub close by,” you suggested, “it’s kinda cosy, not too loud, and the people mind their own business.”

You pulled a beanie out of your jacket pocket and over your head, Ryan watching closely with, as he was very well aware, an idiotically happy grin on his face.

“Sounds great, lead the way,” he agreed, and side by side you walked down the street into the night.

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His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Thirteen

Warnings: angst, anxiety, harassment, violence, alcohol

Word Count: 3 340

A/N: Please don’t kill me (yet) (wait until the Octorber 26th, 8pm GMT)

The last concert of tour was about to kick off.

The atmosphere was buzzing with excitement and happiness, and Ryan even smiled at you a couple of times, giving you hope that everything might just turn out fine in the end. Unluckily you did not get the chance to speak to either Ryan or Lars one on one, so by the time the show started, you still had no proof for your theory that it had been Lars who had told Ryan to stay away from you.

The “Three Beats” were playing louder, and harder, and better, and with more force and energy than ever before. While usually the opening bands always had problems igniting excitement in the crowd, tonight it raged through the audience like a wildfire.

The enthusiasm was addicting, and you felt your heart vibrate not only in beat to the drums but also in sync to the band’s heart.

You were high on endorphins, and felt like you could take on the world.

When the band had finished playing, you ran to the merch stand, and sold merch to the excited fans. This night, the hype did not fade during the break; instead it got amplified with every passing minute, making it feel like the air was alive, and the venue vibrating in harmony with the universe.

The “Three Beats” had created an atmosphere you had never experienced before, simply by their relief and happiness to have their singer back, and if you were not mistaken, iDKHOW would only top this.

When they got on stage, the venue was shaking from the shouts and cheers of the crowd. Dallon was unable to keep his cool mask on, and instead beamed like the sun itself when he walked up.

But, unnoticed by most people, because they were solemnly focused on Dallon, Ryan was outshining the bassist by miles. His eyes were all squeezed together, so hard was he smiling, and even though it seemed impossible, it only increased when he spotted you by the side of the stage, snapping picture after picture of him.

You hurried to get the ones done which Lucas had requested, knowing that by now you had taken so many of Dallon, that for this last night it was acceptable to focus on Ryan. It felt like you had taken thousands of pictures of Ryan, his smile never faltering, his goofiness on stage worse than ever, and you felt like you were in trance, simply capturing the beauty of this man, doing what he loved, with so much passion that you felt like your heart would tear in two, just by watching him.

His eyes met yours again, and he let out a laugh, so free did he feel in that moment. You smiled at him, no, beamed, and you knew that he could tell, from your eyes alone, how much you had missed this interaction, this energy, this connection while he was playing, how much you loved this. And for the first time in two weeks it felt like he was playing only for you.

But when he looked up again, his eyes wandering over the crowd, his smile suddenly died down, and he almost forgot to drum for a second. None of the members of the audience seemed to notice his almost slip up, but you did, after having seen him play so many shows.

Why had he stopped smiling?

When he looked back towards you, he looked sad. You wanted him to smile again, wanted to see his face scrunching up because of how happy he was, but instead he looked away, and started head banging. You furrowed your brows, and felt your heart sink, before you turned to see what he had looked at before he had stopped smiling. The lighting console, where Lars was clicking around on his laptop.

Rage bubbled up in your chest, and the world around you stepped into the background as you fought yourself through the dancing fans, towards where the technician was working. Not hesitating for a second you climbed over the fence, around the rostrum, and poked your ex-boyfriend in the shoulder.

“Hey,” you shouted over the music.

He turned to you, a smug grin on his face.

“Hello there,” he winked, his hands already moving to your hips as if to pull you close.

“You!” Angrily you stabbed your finger against this chest, not caring that the impact with his sternum hurt like hell. “What the fuck did you tell Ryan?”

The grin on his face faltered when he picked up on your rage.

“The truth, that we are getting back together,” he shouted.

“The fuck? Didn’t I make it fucking clear that never, ever, ever, not even if we were the last to fucking people alive in this universe, I’d get back together with you?”

Slowly Lars got angry too.

“I’m fighting for you, isn’t that what women want?”

“No, it’s fucking not! Not if they told you they don’t want anything from you, and especially not when it involves telling lies, and trying to force the woman into something she explicitly said she doesn’t want!”

“You don’t know what you want,” Lars hollered, blood rising to his face, making him look like a tomato with a sunburn, “you should consider yourself lucky to have ever gotten a chance with me! I’m a thousand times better than you, and you show absolutely no gratitude for me wasting my time on a whore like you!”

“If you ever, ever think you know what I want, ever again, I suggest keeping it to your fucking self and letting me live my life the way I want! I’m done with your bullshit manipulations and you guilt tripping me! You’ve been an asshole for as long as I know you, and you’ll always be one, don’t think for a second I don’t know that by now! My only fault was not realizing this while we were still in college!”

“What did you call me?”

Lars took a threatening step towards you, but instead of intimidating you, it only made you angrier. You were done with this shit; you were done with him making you feel small. So instead of backing away, you stood up tall, feet planted hip wide on the ground, shoulders straightened, chin raised, and looking him directly into the eyes, never looking away or blinking. That he was still several inches taller than you did not matter.

“I called you an asshole, a fucking asshole, because that’s what you are. Now back down!”

For a few seconds he stared at you, and you could feel how he tried to win dominance over you, the way he had done back in college when you had been in an argument. But you were not scared of him, not anymore; you were pissed, and you would not let him get the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

To your relief he eventually averted his gaze, and for a second you thought it was over, but then he turned around, and pushed you forcefully into the rostrum, slamming down both hands at your sides.

Now you got scared.

But you were still too pissed to let it show, and before you even had time to react, Lars was grabbed by the back of his shirt, and got yanked backwards. Surprised you saw that a young man, more a boy than a man, had reached over the barriers, and pulled Lars away.

“Leave the lady alone, you hear me,” he shouted.

The moment he realized he had just attacked a grown man, was comically obvious, and for a split second fear flickered in his eyes, but he pushed it aside, staring at Lars the way you had mere seconds ago.

Quickly you climbed over the barrier, next to the boy, who was barely older than sixteen.

Lars was about to say something, but when he saw your challenging stare, he huffed and turned away.

“Are you alright,” the boy checked in on you, making you smile.

“Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” you nodded, “That was very brave of you, thank you.”

“Oh,” he blushed, “I didn’t even think about it.”

“I could tell,” you laughed, “thank you so much.”

You saw two girls next to the boy, who wore the same hand-made shirt as him, making you assume they were on the concert together.

“Take care of each other,” you told them, pointing between the lanky young man next to you and the girls, “okay?”

The girls smiled and nodded, one of them answering “We do!” causing the boy to blush even harder.

“Have fun,” you laughed, and turned back to the stage, now knowing what you had to do.

~*~

The energy kept vibrating through the venue even half an hour after Dallon and Ryan had left the stage. You had sold almost all of the merch, leaving only very few shirts in the boxes.

After the last people had bid their good byes, you helped packing up. Lars did not even dare looking at you, and you could not have cared less. Instead you laughed and joked around with Jay and Luis, while you rolled together miles and miles of cables, and stored them in the boxes, which they were transported in.

Ryan had not talked to you yet, and after the interruption after the photoshoot you had a feeling he would not be the first one to make the move anymore. But that was okay, you knew what had happened, why he acted the way he did. And if you could not catch him on his own, you would tell him in front of the others, that Lars had lied to him, that you were not interested in Lars, and that you would never be again.

When finally the venue was cleared and everything neatly stacked into the vans, Dallon and Ryan said good bye to the few dedicated fans, who had been waiting outside, before everyone climbed into the vans.

Lucas had announced that in order to celebrate the end of tour, you would go out to a bar, and everyone, still hyped up by the fantastic show, had cheered happily. After the vans had been parked at the hotel, and the luggage carried into the rooms, Lucas led the way to the bar he had chosen.

You were reminded of the beginning of tour, when everyone had gone out for dinner together. It felt like with this walk the whole journey came to a close.

Everyone was talking and laughing all the way, except for Ryan and you. The whole time you were searching for a good moment to pull him aside, but it was impossible, which only caused your nervousness to skyrocket. Suddenly the realization kicked in that in less than twenty-four hours you would be apart from him, and that if you had not managed to talk to him by then, everything was over. It made you anxious and scared, and made the fear of his reaction even worse.

By the time you reached the bar, you felt sick. None of the others seemed to notice. They were too engulfed by their happiness, which you envied them for.

The bar had a small list of dishes that could still be ordered, and you decided on a cheese sandwich with salad. You were sitting at a small table, the nine of you cramped together, knees bumping against knees, and feet kicking against shins underneath the table, but nobody cared, and laughed instead.

Slowly the relief the others were experiencing, seeped back into you mind, and you started to relax by the time the food arrived.

The sandwich had been fried, and was hot and crispy, the cheese a creamy, stick consistence, and the most delicious you had ever eaten. The others’ laughing infected you, and soon you were wiping away tears of laughter, momentarily having forgotten about the situation with Ryan, who sat two seats away from you, staring into his mobile.

You had just finished your salad, when Dallon, who sat between Ryan and you, tapped you knee. Curious you looked at him, and he nodded downwards, underneath the table. Following his eyes, you saw he had his phone in his hand, the screen displaying a post on the band’s Instagram page. He pushed the mobile into your hands, signalling to keep it low-key, before he continued his conversation with Luis.

Dallon’s phone as warm in your hands, which were cold from your nerves going all haywire. It took you a moment to recognize the first picture of the post Dallon had pulled up to show you. It was a picture of you, standing in a park, from what you remembered several weeks ago, pointing at a swan in the lake in front of you.

Confused you swiped to the second picture, and found that it was another one of you. It was a selfie Ryan and you had taken spontaneously about three weeks back, during a tour through the city. The next picture was you, having fallen asleep on your laptop, head placed on the table next to it, hair falling into your face. More pictures followed, some of which you had not even been aware that they had been taken, but if you were not mistaken, all of them had been shot by Ryan. Finally you noticed the description to the pictures.

“To the invisible ones, the ones behind the camera, whose face never gets captured. To our amazing photographer, (y/n) – RS”

The post had been made just a couple of minutes ago.

Wide eyed you looked over to Ryan, who seemed not to have noticed you, but Dallon did, and took his phone back.

“Everybody, I’d like to make an announcement,” Charlie suddenly spoke, gently hitting his fork against his glass. “I know that barely anybody knew about Luis and me being together,” from the corner of your eyes you saw Dallon staring at the two men wide eyed, then a smile broke out on his face, “and we wanted to keep it private, but we’re done with this now. I asked him to marry me, just after the show tonight, and well, I guess we’re engaged now.”

He grinned widely, but his voice was almost timid, as if he was scared of the team members’ judgement.

“He even had a fucking ring,” Luis cheered, holding out his hand to show of a ring you recognized from the display on the market, where you and Lisa had met Charlie.

You had already thought that the kiss the two had shared after Jay had been arrested did not look like a first kiss, and seeing the happiness in your two friends’ faces made your heart explode.

“Congratulations,” you cheered, and reached over the table to hug both of them the best you could.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Bill jumped in, “Charlie, YOU proposed? I always thought it would be Luis.”

“Of course it would be Charlie,” Jay disagreed, “you really don’t know your baby bro, do you?”

Jay and Bill seemed the only ones who had really known about the relationship.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Dallon got up as well hugging the two musicians, and Ryan followed him, “I wish both of you all the very best. You deserve it so much!”

“Yes, 100 percent agreeing with that,” Ryan nodded and patted Charlie’s back, “All the best!”

Even Lars stood up, and shook their hands in congratulation. Lucas was the only one who did not get up.

“I really didn’t see that coming,” he mumbled, “please tell me you’re not planning on marrying on tour; that would be so much paper work.”

Everyone laughed at his comment, and he smiled.

“Seriously guys, I’m happy you found someone to take care of you,” he grinned, “Let’s make a toast. Waiter, please bring us ten, no, nine glasses of champagne!”

“Eight, and one orange juice,” Luis corrected, and winked at Lucas, “still Muslim, still not drinking.”

When the champagne was served, the long, fragile glasses making you scared you would break them simply by looking at them, Lucas congratulated the happy couple again, speaking a toast to their happiness and health.

A tingling sensation at the side of your face made you turn your head, and your eyes met Ryan’s, who had been staring at you the whole time, but quickly looked away now.

After everything had calmed down again, Dallon got up.

“I need some fresh air, Ryan would you like to join me?”

The both men left the table, and stepped outside the door. Through the window you could see them standing on the side walk, and talking for a while.

You engaged back in the conversation, Jay telling how annoying it had been, having to rehearse with the other two, while they were flirting, but not having the courage to ask each other out.

“Oh I can think of two others like that,” Lucas laughed, and by the look of ice Lars was sending over the table, you guessed Lucas was referring to you and Ryan.

In that moment a hand got placed on your shoulder, and you spun around. Standing behind you was Dallon, bending down to talk into your ear.

“He’s waiting for me outside, go and talk some sense into him, I beg you,” he whispered, then he sat back down casually.

You were not certain if you had understood correctly, but when Dallon nodded towards the window encouragingly, through which you could see Ryan facing away from the bar, you got together the courage you had been building up all evening long, and got up.

The air outside was cool. By now it was end of September, and the weather started to turn from summer into autumn.

“That was quick,” Ryan giggled, a sound you missed so desperately, and turned to you, immediately stopping when he noticed that it wasn’t Dallon. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Can we talk?”

You pushed your hands into the pockets of your jeans, hoping to cover up how hard they were shaking.

Ryan looked over his shoulder into the restaurant, and shook his head.

“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” he mumbled, and was about to walk back inside, but you stepped into his way.

“He was, is, lying, you know, Lars,” you said, looking directly into Ryan’s face, but he avoided your eyes. “He told you I was just using you to win him back, didn’t he? He told you that I don’t like you, don’t- have any interest in you, didn’t he?”

Slowly Ryan tore his gaze away from the pavement, and looked at you for a second, trying to make sense of what you were saying. But then he shook his head slightly, more to himself than in reaction to what you had said, as if he knew what you were about to say, but did not want to believe it. Pressing his lips together firmly, he looked away again, making your heart break even more, but you decided that you had to continue talking anyway.

“I found out just that afternoon, but you wouldn’t talk to me,” you explained.

“So what are you saying,” Ryan asked, his voice almost a little shaky, and full of pain.

“I’m saying that I don’t like him, not anymore, haven’t in a long time,” you told him, “he’s a selfish prick-“ Ryan laughed at that quietly, “and even if he wasn’t, even if he’d be a perfect gentleman, he’d never even get close to how – to you.”

You wanted Ryan to look up at you, wanted him to tell you that he believed you, that he liked you too, that he had never doubted your affection for him, that he had always known that Lars had lied.

But he did not.

Instead he turned away from you, and ran his hands over his face. For a moment you thought he would turn back to you. Instead he started walking away, not even attempting to look over his shoulder.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman angst #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter story #multi chapter #fanfic #fanfiction #angst

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Prompts 3, 6, 10 & 15 with Ryan Seaman

Prompt 3: I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid

Prompt 6: I just like proving you wrong

Prompt 10: If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god!

Prompt 15: Well, you’re coming home with me, whether you like it or not

Warnings: alcohol

Word count: 2 800

A/N: I’m the author, I can request as many prompts in one story as I like, and none of you can do anything about it! (I’ve discovered power, quickly, someone take it away from me before I abuse it and write even more for HSWKYS) Also again, happy birthday to Ryan!

It was not even that you had much to drink, but you felt giggly and light headed anyway, which, in your opinion was mostly due to Ryan’s presence. Your mind always seemed to give up proper function as soon as the attractive drummer was around, but in the many years of your friendship he never seemed to have minded. Even now, that you were standing outside the bar, where you had met for a couple of drinks, or in your case, one, bidding your good byes to Dallon and Breezy, he seemed happy to have you around.

For the fifth time in the past ten minutes you pointed out the huge full moon that hung close over the roof tops, the pale light making the dark less scary, and giving everything a fairytale like atmosphere.

When finally Breezy tore herself away from the conversation she had been having with you, and followed Dallon towards the closest bus stop, you turned to Ryan.

“We should go somewhere and look at the stars,” you suggested, instinctively reaching for his hands, but quickly enough you remembered that friends did not do this, holding hands and looking at the stars at the same time. You were tipsy, not drunk.

“We should go home,” Ryan disagreed, but by the smile on his face you could tell he was not mad, rather amused.

“But I don’t want to go home yet,” you protested, even as Ryan slung his arm over your shoulder and led you down the street.

“Well, you’re coming home with me, whether you like it or not,” he decided.

“With you? I got my own home,” you reminded him, but secretly hoping he would insist on taking you home with him.

You loved his home. It was cosy and warm, and it smelled of Ryan, and you always felt safe there.

“Yeah, but mine is closer, and don’t you dare thinking I’m gonna let you walk home on your own in the state you’re in.”

“The state I’m in? Ryan, I’m not drunk,” you pulled away from him and looked up at his brown eyes.

Admittedly, the world was a little dizzy around you, but you were standing straight up, and your steps were not wonky in the slightest.

“Yeah, but still,” he laughed, pulling you back to his side, “We can look at the stars from my balcony.”

At that you did not reply anything, instead you turned your head back towards the sky. Even with the street lights making it harder to see details, you could tell that tonight was wonderfully clear, just perfect to look at the stars.

The walk to Ryan’s place was not long, and gave you enough time to sober up enough to get nervous about Ryan’s arm, which he had wrapped around your waist. He was warm, as always, the kind of warmth that could never be replaced by the heat of a hot bottle, a good shower, or even summer sunshine. It was the kind of warmth that made you want to cuddle into his side until you fell asleep, the kind that made you feel safe and protected, and you had to actively resist the instinct to lean into his touch more than you already were.

When you had finally reached the flat, after having made sure to be extra quiet in the stairwell because of the neighbors’ kids, you took of your shoes in front of the door, as you always did, and earned the same punitive stare of Ryan you always earned.

“You know you can walk in with shoes on, right,” he told you in the same patient voice he used every time.

“It’s a matter of respect,” you answered, in the same dutiful tone as you were used to answer his question with, which made him chuckle.

“As if you would respect me,” he giggled, holding the door open for you.

“Not you, the flat,” you told him with a wink, and slipped in.

These four sentences had been exchanged about a thousand times by now, and every time they made you laugh and feel happy. It was a ritual, the sarcastic bickering between the two of you, it was proof of how well you knew each other, how you would always know each other in this little way.

“Do you want to dress in your pyjama before we watch the stars?”

Ryan was already on his way into the kitchen to make some hot chocolate, while you were still trying to wiggle out of your hoodie.

“My pyjama?”

You tried to remember if you had left a pyjama at Ryan’s place. Usually these kind of projects, like right now, were spontaneous, and most of the time you just slept in your day clothes. Had you brought a pyjama over to Ryan’s at some point?

“Well, one of mine, I mean, can’t have you sleep in these jeans, can we?”

Stepping out of the kitchen, holding two mugs, he gestured to your trousers. Indeed they were not exactly very tight, but tight enough to make sleeping in them most likely uncomfortable.

“Oh, yeah, if I could borrow one,” you smiled, trying to control your heartbeat at the thought of Ryan allowing you to borrow one of his shirts.

“Yeah sure, they’re in the left drawer of the chest in the bedroom.”

He disappeared back into the kitchen, trusting you to find your way around the flat yourself.

You nodded to yourself, and walked past the living room and the door to the bathroom, when suddenly a thought came to your mind.

“Mind if I take a shower real quick,” you asked, having skipped back to the kitchen.

Ryan was already standing at the stove, nodding.

“Towels are in the bathroom under the sink,” he told you, turning his head to look at you.

A smile was plastered on his face, and for a moment he stopped his movement, as if he had suddenly gotten aware of something.

But you did not notice, instead you grinned back at him, and headed to the bedroom where you grabbed a shirt out of the drawer he had told you about, and made your way to the bathroom.

When you had walked past the door just minutes ago, you had realized how sticky you felt from all the sweating during the heat of the day. Even after you had taken a shower before going out, you had still felt the sweat coat your skin as soon as you had stepped outside the house, and even the air conditioned bar had been too warm. But if you really were to stay over at Ryan’s for tonight, you did not want to be all too sticky.

Quickly you jumped under the water, making sure to have it not to warm, after all you wanted to cool down a little. The smooth water felt nice, washing away the dust and sweat, and you even stole some of Ryan’s shower gel that was lying around. He surely would not mind, he had never minded before at least.

“Hey, did you drown in there? Cacao is ready!”

The knocks against the bathroom door tore you out of your little trance.

“Yeah, almost ready,” you quickly answered, turning off the water.

“If you use up all the hot water again, I swear to god! You’re on the couch for a month!”

“I never used up the hot water,” you protested, but judging by Ryan’s distant laughter, he had only made a joke, and was already on the way back to the living room where a glass door led to the balcony.

Drying yourself off, you could not help but rethink his words, which had made it sound as if you lived together. And you always slept on the couch anyway. But something seemed different tonight, something was not as usual. He was more touchy tonight, joked around more, and it felt like coming home together to the same flat, was something you did every day. But more importantly: it felt like Ryan wanted it this way.

Once you were dressed in a pair of his shorts and a way oversized iDKHOW shirt, which reached until mid-thigh for you, you shook of these thoughts, and walked into the living room, and from there to the balcony.

Ryan seemed to have made an effort to make everything extra cosy out here. The small table and the chairs were pushed to the side, and a blanket was spread on the floor, against the wall were resting pillows, which usually belonged on the sofa, and more blankets were pushed to the side, if you should feel chilly in the quickly cooling night. The two mugs with hot chocolate were sitting on an empty, upside down plant pot by the railing.

“Sit down,” Ryan offered, and quickly went to turn off the lights in the flat so you could see more of the stars.

Still marvelling at his quick improvisation, you sat down on the blanket, and leant against the pillows by the wall, only slowly tearing your gaze away and towards the stars.

Seconds later Ryan was back by your side and flopped down unceremoniously closely next to you, very closely.

You tried ignoring it, like you always ignored it, and instead focused on looking up into the infinite black of the universe, and the millions of little, white dots in the vastness of space, that made up the milky-way, and everything else you could spot against the dark sky tonight.

“Here,” Ryan smiled, and handed you a warm mug, which you quickly engulfed with both hands.

Indeed while it had been still comfortably warm when you had left the bar, by now the air had cooled down considerably, and from the cold shower from earlier, your hands were still cool, so the warm porcelain was comforting, and so was the delicious smell of the hot chocolate.

For a while you sat in silence, sipping the warm beverage, relishing the smooth taste of the sweet liquid as it ran down your throats and warmed up your bellies. It felt as if the world had stopped for now, and everything that was not the sky, Ryan, or the balcony you were sitting on had faded into the background of unimportance.

Judging by Ryan’s quiet gasp, you assumed he had seen the short, but bright flash of light from the shooting star too, and when he spoke up, his voice was quiet and raspy.

“Make a wish!”

You smiled at this children’s game, but closed your eyes, and focused your thoughts for a moment.

“You too,” you encouraged.

“I wish-“

“You’re not allowed to tell,” you interrupted him, turning to look at the brown haired man with wide eyes, “or it won’t come true!”

“You don’t really believe that, do you,” he mused?

“But you believe in wishing on shooting stars?”

“Fair enough,” he agreed, and looked at you.

His gaze was soft, his lips curled into the faintest smile, and his brown eyes sparkled even in the dark.

For a while you looked at each other like that, and you did not even care that it might be weird to look at one of your closest friends like that. It did not matter, not right now, because he was looking at you the same way, and honestly, even though that had not been your wish, you really would not mind if it would never change.

“What did you wish for,” Ryan asked, his voice even quieter than before, but his gaze never left yours.

“Can’t tell,” you insisted just as quietly, ‘and especially not you’, you added in your mind.

Thoughtfully he hummed for a moment, and nodded, before he closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them again determination sparkled in them. You were not sure what exactly would follow, but whatever it was, it made Ryan nervous. He had placed his cup aside ages ago, and now his fingers curled into a tight fist, his whole body tensed, and he bit his lip before he spoke again.

“Do you like me?”

The question was like a punch in the guts, and your head started spinning. What had given it away? How did he know? Would he ask you to leave if you told him the truth? Quickly you turned away from him, already feeling tears sting in your eyes. You wanted to get away from here, from him, as quickly as possible. This was by far the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to you. Forget the time you fell down a flight of stairs at school while your whole class watched, forget the time you bumped into your co-worker, emptied your cup of hot coffee over your shirt, and had to work in the coffee stained shirt for the rest of the day. This right here topped everything else.

“Hey, look at me.”

From the corner of your eye you saw Ryan reach out his hand, and moments later his fingers gently brusher over your chin before he carefully turned your head back to face him. Unable to be met with the expression in his eyes, you closed yours.

“How long?”

Instead of answering, you asked “Are you mad?”

Like you, he just replied with another question of his own.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

You shook your head.

“Can’t loose you over something stupid like this,” you mumbled, still not looking at him. “Couldn’t risk your friendship, you see. And I know you don’t like me anyway, so why try?”

The chuckle that sounded from Ryan’s lips eventually persuaded you to look up at him. His face was closer to yours than you had thought, his eyes squeezed together from how brightly he was smiling, and a strand of his hair dangled in front of his nose.

“You have no idea just how much I like proving you wrong,” he whispered.

And before your mind had even registered that he had lent in, his lips were on yours and he was kissing you softly, his hand still cupping your face where it had rested the whole time. At first you could not breath, yet at the same time if felt like you were breathing for the same time. Your lungs seemed to have forgotten how to work, while your mind was breaking free of all the restrictions you had put on yourself over the last years when it came to Ryan. Shaking, you lifted your one hand up to his neck, grazing gently his skin, and wrapped your fingers in his locks where they were long enough.

It was precious and warm, and when Ryan felt you respond, shyly, but with growing confidence, he smiled, and pulled you closer, as close as your bodies allowed him too.

It did not take long and both of you were out of breath, yours hitching in your throat every time he as much as looked at you, and you were painfully aware of the blush that was burning on your cheeks. But Ryan on the other hand could not stop smiling, not for even a split second, so you guessed you were even. Not that you had to care anyway, after all he liked you back, he liked you back. He did not mind that you liked him, he wanted you to like him, he wanted you close.

As if to prove your thoughts, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, and pulled you into his chest, placing his chin on top of your head, kissing your hair again and again.

“How did you know,” you eventually managed to ask. Your thoughts were still spinning, but this one question had moved to the very front of your mind.

“I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid,” he chuckled, kissing your hair again.

“Debatable,” you disagreed, and turned your head to look up at him.

Seeing his chance, he leant down and kissed you on the lips again, almost giving you a heart attack.

“Probably,” he mumbled, “I mean… in the end it were Dallon and Breezy who convinced me to give it a try.”

“That already sounds a lot more realistic,” you laughed, earning a judging glare from him.

For a while you sat cuddled against each other on the balcony. Ryan pulled one of the blankets over you to keep you warm, and together you looked at the stars.

“So what did you wish for,” he asked again suddenly.

Smiling to yourself, you nodded. It probably was okay to say after the wish had come true.

“This,” you answered, looking up at Ryan, seeing he was already looking at you too, “And you?”

He smiled softly, like he always seemed to do when he smiled at you.

“This.”

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #drabbles #drabble #drabbles challange

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Fourteen

Warnings: ANGST, anxiety Word Count: 5 332 A/N: Even if you’re scared, please read to the end

You wanted Ryan to look up at you, wanted him to tell you that he believed you, that he liked you too, that he had never doubted your affection for him, that he had always known that Lars had lied.

But he did not.

Instead he turned away from you, and ran his hands over his face. For a moment you thought he would turn back to you. Instead he started walking away, not even attempting to look over his shoulder.

It felt like your heart had stopped beating. All blood seemed to rush into your legs, making you dizzy, and for a moment you wondered if Ryan would come running back if your knees would give out, and you would fall to the ground, but you were too frozen in place to even break down. What had happened? Why was he not even talking to you? If he did not like you back, why not say it? Did he not believe you? Did he really think you would play with his emotions like that?

It took you a good ten seconds until breathing was possible again, and your brain started working. You had sworn to yourself you would say these words that had been on the tip of your tongue for weeks, tell him you were in love with him. And you wanted a proper rejection. Not just some turning away and walking into the night like some dramatic rom-com hero. You needed him to say that he did not want anything to do with you.

So you did the only thing you were able to think of. You ran after him.

“Ryan, hey!”

He had been walking faster than you had thought, and with his long legs he had already made it pretty far down the street, speeding up when he heard you following him. Just when you were about to reach him, he spun around.

“What?”

His voice was harsh, a sound that made you flinch, and you realized that while Lars had not been able to scare you in the venue earlier, it was far too easy for Ryan to do so now. Maybe because Ryan meant everything to you, and Lars nothing.

His face was half hidden in the shadows, making it impossible to tell if the expression he was wearing was one of anger or pain, and your heart clutched in your chest.

“Talk to me,” you begged, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging in your eyes.

Who cared if you cried now? It only would prove your point of how much he meant to you. And while you obviously could not be sure about it, you had a feeling that the situation you found yourselves in was not due to a lack of feelings for you from his side.

But now he only stared at you, stared at you like he wished he did not know who you were.

“Please, Ryan,” the words in your mind started tumbling over each other, and your tongue and jaw felt heavy, making speaking hard, “I-“

The look in his eyes made you shut up. Never in your life had you though you could see his beautiful brown eyes filled with so much anger and pain.

It did not matter. You had sworn yourself to say it, to ask him for a rejection, if that was all he had to offer, and even if it would tear your heart in two, more so than the past two weeks, then so be it.

“I love you, Ryan, I love you and I have been in love with you for weeks, and if you don’t feel the same, I want you to say it into my face, and you won’t ever have to see me again.” Your voice was steadier than you had believed to be possible, considering all the emotions flooding through your system. “But if you feel the same, then I don’t want some jealous asshole to destroy what we could have together. Because I think that’s the real problem here. Otherwise, what would these photos on Instagram have been about?”

Ryan just stared at you for a long while, making it impossible to guess what was going on inside of his head.

“I can’t trust you,” he eventually muttered, his voice sounding nothing like the angry bark from before. It sounded broken.

“Can’t you, or don’t you want to? Be honest, this is about what Lars said, that I would only use you?”

Even though he did not answer, you knew you were right; his eyes gave him away this time.

Now it was your turn to get angry.

“Are you really going to believe him more than me? Haven’t you seen first-hand what he does, how he tried to force me back to him? Remember that time on the bus when Dallon and you had to get him off of me? Do you really think someone like that would not lie about whatever pleases him, about whatever might be of some sort of use for him? Do you really want to trust some asshole like that more than me? Have I ever made given you any reason to doubt my affection, Ryan?”

You were almost shouting at him, but he did not flinch. Instead his shoulders grew so much tenser, and when you had to take a breath, he immediately shouted back.

“Have you ever thought about that maybe I don’t need anyone to tell me what to believe and what not? It’s not about him! It’s not about you! It’s about me! He doesn’t need to tell me that I’m not good enough for you, ‘cause I already know that myself! I don’t need anyone to tell me who I love and who I don’t love. I know that I can’t ever love someone like you enough, because someone like me is just never going to be able to feel that much all at once. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t kill me, alright? And I just can’t have you, or him, or Dallon, or anyone else chase me around all the time, telling me what you feel for me, or what I feel for you, because at this point-“

Expectantly you were staring at him, lips quivering and tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Somehow it was relieving to have him shout at you. It was better than the silence, even though his words ripped hole after hole into your chest. It was a hot kind of pain, not the slow, icy pain from the past two weeks. It burned hot and red, and you wished it would burn just all of the emotions right out of you.

Ryan never finished his sentence.

He just stared at you for a while, watching you break down in front of him, still standing and challenging him with your eyes to continue what he had started. But instead of giving you the final blow, he turned around, and started walking away. Again.

No matter how hurt and sad and disappointed you were, you were angry as well. Some part of you felt guilty for assuming to know how Ryan felt, some part of you felt desperate to prove him wrong about the way he felt about himself, wanted to show him that he was so much better than he thought he was. But all you could think about was how he had not properly said that he did not like you.

He had walked almost five meters, when you spoke up.

“Feelings, yes or no,” you asked, just loud enough for him to hear.

What if he said yes, you wondered. You would need to give him time. But there would be hope, and it didn’t matter how long it would take him to come around, as long as there was hope.

Ryan stopped in his tracks, and for a moment you almost expected him to turn back around, to shout at you again to finally leave him alone.

Slowly he shook his head.

“No, I don’t want them.”

You just watched as he walked away, down the street, and disappeared in the shadows.

~*~

It felt like the air had been deprived of all oxygen. Black and white spots were dancing in his vison. He felt light headed. Maybe he would faint. Maybe if he fainted, he did not have to think about what had happened. Where was he even going? Did not matter. Had he really said he did not like, did not love her? Had he really turned her efforts to figure out the truth, to make them both happy, against her? Had he really said all these words that still echoed in his mind?

He had wanted to protect her. Never had he wanted to protect anyone as much as her. Never had he felt like anyone needed protection from the mess he sometimes turned into. Until now. And he had pushed her away. So far away. He had hurt her, and he had made sure there was no going back.

But all he wanted now was to go back. All he wanted now was to run back to her, wrap her in his arms, kiss her, tell her the truth, tell her that he loved her.

He stopped. A part of his mind screamed that he needed to be rational, that he would drag her down with him if he went back now, but his heart finally won control over his body, and he turned around, running back to where he had left her.

Out of breath, more falling than walking, Ryan rounded the last corner, only to find you were gone.

For a while he stood under the lamppost, wondering what to do. Eventually, unable to think of something better, he walked back to the bar.

The crew was still sitting around the tables, chatting and laughing. But you weren’t there.

Dallon immediately saw his friend entering, and when he noticed the lack of your presence, and the expression on Ryan’s face, he jumped up, the smile from seconds ago wiped off his face. He did not care for the chair that fell over, he just stormed over to Ryan, and grabbed him by the arm, dragging the drummer outside again. Ryan did not even struggle, and willingly told Dallon what had happened.

~*~

You had said he would never have to see you again, so that’s what you would make sure off. Instead of going back to the bar, you had taken the direct way back to the hotel. Not only did you not want to face the others, you also were desperate never to see Ryan again, just like promised. But if you would stay, you would see each other tomorrow, and you knew you could not bear that. So you ran up the stairs to the hotel room, grabbed your bag with the pyjama and your equipment, and threw the key on Jay’s bed, before pulling the door closed behind you.

The receptionist did not dare asking what was wrong when you asked how far it was to the train station, and then for the number of a cab company. He was curious, obviously, why the young woman who had been so cheerful earlier, now was close to tears, asking how to leave the city the quickest, but he had a feeling you would not tell him anyway, so he just ordered a cab, and wished you a good night as you left the hotel to wait for the cab outside.

It was the end of September, the nights were getting colder, and out here on the platform of the train station the wind was like ice. You had sat down on a bench, your knees pulled up to your chest, the bag next to you, with one of the straps looped around your ankle. You were shaking, from crying, from the cold, the pain of having lost Ryan, and from knowing that he had never even been yours to begin with.

Little did you know that after Ryan’s and Dallon’s talk, Dallon had stormed back into the bar, telling everyone they had to find you. He did not feel sorry for Luis and Charlie to interrupt this important evening for them, and it did not even occur to them that others might have been upset about their engagement dinner being interrupted. Both of the men had, just like Dallon, felt the attraction between you and Ryan, and even though they had not known about Lars’ involvement, they were desperate to help. Lukas, Jay and Bill were just as anxious for Ryan and you, when Dallon told the group how Ryan had messed up, and needed to find you. Only Lars enjoyed the chaos.

The group, minus Lars, left the bar as quickly as possible, deciding that obviously you had gone back to the hotel. Ryan was shaking the whole time, trying not to think about would happen if he would not find you. When Jay came back from the room he was supposed to be sharing with you, saying your stuff was gone, Ryan ran to check the vans, but to no avail.

He should have known that you would stick to your word, that he would never see you again if he rejected you. He should have known that you would disappear off the face of this earth.

Lukas had tried calling you many times already, and was just speaking onto your voice mail, when Ryan came back into the lobby, where Bill had finally remembered that there was a hopefully very simple way to find you. Leaning over the counter, he was talking to the receptionist, and when he saw Ryan entering, he turned to him.

“Train station.”

Ryan did not mind that it was a twenty minute walk. A cab would take at least ten minutes to the hotel, and then another ten to the station. Running was faster. Ryan did not care about the shouts of his friends, asking him to wait, either. He just ran. The adrenaline was already pumping through his system anyway. Waiting for a cab would have killed him.

Were there even any trains leaving in the middle of the night, at least any that would be of use to you? Where would you try to go? Somehow make your way back to Salt Lake City?

But you knew about none of that. You were still sitting on the bench, curled together tightly, waiting for the ticket booth to open in a few hours. Your phone, which had been ringing continuously in your bag had finally, after a long day, run out of battery, and was quiet now.

Sitting in the cold, you remembered that there were still pictures of shows you needed to edit. Maybe you would give them to your friend Collin, back at the photography agency you technically still worked at. He surely would do you the favour to look through the pictures of the last concert, and edit the good ones before sending everything to the label. You would not be able to look at even just a blurry picture of Ryan, not after what had happened, after what he had said.

The more you thought about it, the worse it got. Not only the things he had said about himself, how he thought he could never love you as much as you deserved. What had he even meant by “someone like me” and “someone like you”? You also felt guilty. Your insistence for an answer must have felt like you were harassing him, and never had you intended to do that, or make him feel like he was cornered. A small cry left your lips, and you wrapped your arms tighter around your knees, pulling them closer to your chest, trying to keep yourself from falling apart.

Suddenly someone was by your side. You had not even heard them approach you, and without warning warm arms engulfed you, and before you could panic, a familiar and oh so calming scent flooded your nose. Another tiny cry escaped your lips before you unwrapped yourself, and flung your arms around Ryan.

Immediately he pulled you into his lap, his arms around your body while you gripped tightly into the leather jacket he was wearing, your face buried in the side of his neck, your other hand searching for some form of contact with his skin until your weaved your fingers into his hair. You did not know what was happening, only that you cried harder than you had ever done before. Your fingers hurt from holding onto him so tightly, and his skin was hot and sweaty, as if he had been running. Uneven breaths fanned over your neck as he nuzzled his nose against the side of your head. His hands were gripping and letting go of the thin jacket you were wearing, as if he always searched for a better way to hold you tightly to him, so you would not slip away again. He would never let you slip away again.

After what felt like hours, your tears had finally dried, and Ryan’s heavy breathing, be it from running or crying himself, had calmed down too. Every single muscle in your body was exhausted, and slowly you lost your hold on his jacket and hair, but you were happy as long as you were allowed to hide your face against his neck.

Whenever you opened your eyes, a strand of his blue hair dangled into your sight, and with every breath you inhaled the mixture of deodorant and whatever it was that Ryan smelled like. He just smelled like Ryan, like safety, like love. Thinking about how you had almost lost that, made you shiver under his hands, and quickly you tightened your hold on him again, causing him to wrap his arms even harder around you again.

Time had long lost its meaning as you were sitting on the bench together, but eventually you started getting cold. With a shaky sigh, you pulled away from him, your one hand still holding onto his jacket. His eyes flickered open to look at you. Even in the orange glow of the lantern that lit up the platform you could see that his eyes were red, and a wave of guilt rushed over you, realising that they were red because of you.

Before you even had time to give it another thought, Ryan leant up, just enough to capture your lips with his. Admittedly, you had not even thought about kissing him, had not even considered it a possibility anymore, and now feeling his lips against yours surprised you, but you leant in, suddenly feeling too worn out to resist the temptation any longer.

His kiss was urgent, pleading, as he stretched up to reach you, and when you leant in, he wrapped one of his hands into your hair, pulling you closer to him. You let him take control of the kiss, not caring about anything anymore, as long as it only meant that the distance between him and you would not increase. Your heart was hammering in your throat, and you thought Ryan had to feel your heartbeat against his lips, but if he did, he did not care. Instead he pressed his lips against you, hot, and full of determination, like a promise to never let you go again.

A shiver went through his body, and your best guess was that it had been a thought similar to the one you had had earlier, because his hands tightened their grip around you. You needed him to know that you were there, by his side, not ever intending to leave again, and with that thought you wrapped both your arms around his neck, and pulled yourself closer to him, kissing him harder, hard enough to knock all breath out of both of you, until neither of you was able to do anything but to pull away panting.

A breathless giggle of relief escaped you, and even though you had your eyes closed, you could feel Ryan’s glare on your face, before he shut you up, by quickly pressing his lips against yours, but only for a moment. When you opened your eyes finally, you found that he was already staring at you, his forehead pressed against yours, his lips red from kissing, his cheeks crimson from the excitement and the cold air. His dark eyes were glowing, even in the dim light, with happiness and love.

You were about to kiss him again, so overwhelmed by having him so close to you, when he closed his eyes, and mumbled a few words, which you did not understand. When he looked at you again, his eyes almost carried something like fear in them. Curious you looked at him, wordlessly asking him to repeat what he had been saying, and he did.

“I can’t go another minute without saying this, (y/n),” he whispered, his lips only a few millimetres away from yours, “and I should have said it weeks ago; then none of this would have happened. But I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo-“

And even though you still had not caught your breath properly, you kissed him again, with no regard for your lungs screaming for oxygen, or your heart begging for a break.

~*~

On the way to the hotel, walking slowly, hand in hand, Ryan’s jacket over your shoulders, your bag over his, he explained what had happened, why he had said what he had said, and listened to your side of the story as well. Much to your relief he was not mad at you for wanting a clear and once and for all answer; nor were you mad about what he had said. The only thing that really concerned you was what he had said about not being able to love you as he thought you deserved. When you asked him about it, he shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I don’t even know why I said that. It’s just… sometimes it feels impossible to love you as much as I do, and you are so wonderful, and I respect you so much, and I only want the very best for you, and somehow I’m having a hard time believing that that could really be me.”

You nodded, thinking about his words for a while.

“Let me tell you something, Mr. Seaman,” he grinned as you called him by his last name, “I, for one, am very certain that you are the absolutely very best thing that could happen to me, not to mention the kindest and sweetest person I could ever dream of.” You bit your tongue before adding, that you did not feel like deserving him either, but you knew he would only be upset about it. Eventually you probably would have to address this topic again, but not tonight. “And even if none of this was true, I wouldn’t want anybody else but you. And that’s the part that matters.”

Ryan smiled down on you lovingly, and bent over to kiss your hair.

“I’m just worrying already, what about next tour, you know. You deserve someone who is around, who you can spend time with, someone who isn’t half-way across the country, who you won’t see for-“

He suddenly stopped in his steps, making you turn to him in confusion. His eyes were widened, and a smile spread across his face as if he had just remembered something wonderful.

“What’s going on,” you laughed, stepping in front of him, taking his hands in yours.

“The label… actually, a couple of weeks ago, Lukas said they asked if you would like to work for them, with us, as our touring photographer, he just wanted to wait with telling you until after the tour was over.” When you only stared at him wide eyed, he added, “You know, as iDKHOW’s official photographer. Every tour, every concert, you could always be there. We could go on tour together.”

His voice faded out as if he had suddenly started to worry that you did not feel as enthusiastic about the offer as he did.

Truth be told, you were totally overwhelmed. And just like the past couple of minutes, whenever you felt overwhelmed by positive emotions, you just lent forwards, and kissed him again, hard.

You felt him smile into the kiss, and when he pulled away to look into your face, you were smiling brightly as well.

“Is that a yes,” he asked hopefully and you nodded happily, making him wrap you in a hug, before you continued your way to the hotel.

Much to your surprise, and honestly embarrassment, your friends were waiting in the lobby for you. The clock on the wall showed that it was only quarter past two in the morning, which surprised you; you had assumed it would be much later.

Luis and Charlie had squeezed into an armchair together, their heads leaning against each other sleepily. Bill was clicking around on his phone, while Lukas, Dallon and Jay were quietly talking. When Ryan and you entered, everyone perked up, and jumped to their feet, immediately engulfing both of you in hugs.

“Whoa, guys, it’s not like we died, or anything,” you joked, as Charlie pulled you into a bone crushing hug.

“You should have seen Ryan,” Dallon disagreed, “he sure looked like he was about to die.”

For that comment he earned a playful shove from Ryan, which he answered with blowing him a kiss.

“I thought you are the one who’s always dying,” you grinned over Charlie’s shoulder, who was still squeezing you tightly, “Or what are all these “lol, I’m dead” pics about?”

Dallon only poked his tongue out at you.

“Seriously, we were worried,” Charlie confessed, finally letting go of you, “We thought we might never see you again. Not to mention that we were all seriously rooting for you guys.”

“All, except for Lars,” Bill joked, causing Dallon to make gaging sounds.

“Ugh, don’t say his name,” Ryan rolled his eyes, making everyone laugh.

“Is it mean that we all hate him now,” Jay asked, but he sounded indifferent. After Ryan had left to get you back from the train station, Dallon had told them what exactly had happened, and neither of the five men found it in themselves to make up excuses for Lars’s behaviour.

“No, he fucking hurt our friends,” Luis answered, “We’re allowed to hate him.”

You had barely noticed, but while your friends were talking you had automatically gravitated back to Ryan, who had already wrapped his arm around your shoulder again. Smiling you looked at the men bickering in the lobby, and suddenly you felt very glad to have gotten the chance to get to know all of them.

“We should go to sleep,” Lukas eventually proposed, “we still have to drive home tomorrow.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, and Jay and Dallon decided they would not mind sharing a room tonight, so Ryan and you had some more time for yourselves.

“Hey, Ryan,” you had almost reached your door, when Lukas’s voice made both of you turn around again, “did you ask her about the job?”

Ryan glanced over to you and grinned.

“Yes.”

“So-?”

Expectantly Lukas looked between the two of you, and Dallon, Bill, and the Three Beats, curiously waited for your answer as well.

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” you shrugged, and once again you were engulfed by the group of men, Ryan and Lukas watching laughing from the side lines.

~*~

When you reached the house in Salt Lake City, in which the instruments got stored, the next evening, you suddenly felt very exhausted. The streets looked familiar, but felt more foreign than some of the cities you had been seeing. The air was wet with falling dew, and the light of the setting sun got dimmed by brooding clouds, but you helped put away the equipment anyway.

Lucas slammed the door of the van shut, once everything was unloaded and put back in its place, and took a look at the eight people in front of him. Lars was standing to the side, hands buried in his pockets; Charlie and Luis were arm in arm, standing next to Bill. Jay was leaning casually against the wall of the building, and Dallon fumbled around with the strap of his backpack. Ryan and you stood next to Dallon, fingers loosely intertwined, hands hanging between the two of you.

“So everybody,” Lucas spoke taking a deep breath, “that’s it, tour’s over.”

“Woohoo,” Jay cheered, making everyone cheer along with him.

“Thank you for the great work you did, we’ve had some rough times, but in general I think it was a really successful tour.” Everybody nodded in agreement. “Luis, Charlie, Jay, I’ll see you around I hope, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call me.” The three smiled at him happily. “Lars told me this morning that he requested at the label to tour with another band, so I’m sad not to have him with us in the future.” Lucas’ words said one thing, but the way he said it, made it clear he was glad not to have him around anymore. “And Bill, Dallon, (y/n), Ryan: to a good next tour, I guess.”

“Cheers to that,” Bill laughed and lifted an imaginary glass; toasting into the round, making everyone do the same gesture back at him.

“And now go home; I want to go to sleep!”

With these words Lucas disbanded the group, and started hugging one after the other, while Lars stole himself away, knowing that after the stunts he had pulled, everybody was fed up with him.

You also hugged the “Three Cheers” good bye, making them promise to call you, if they wanted pictures taken of a local gig.

Bill engulfed you in a bear hug, lifting you up, and making you laugh, and Dallon wrapped you in his arms as well, wishing you a good night.

You watched how Lucas walked up to a petite woman of his age, who was waiting next to an old car down the road. She had greyish hair pulled into a lazy tail, and was wearing a soft, green dress. He pecked her on the mouth before wrapping her in a long hug.

Charlie, Luis and Bill got picked up by the brothers’ younger brothers, the twins, and Jay’s sister picked up Jay, and offered Dallon a ride home, which he gladly accepted.

So in the end, only you and Ryan were left.

“I don’t want to go home,” Ryan mumbled, taking both of your hands in his, and leaning his forehead against yours.

“Me neither,” you confessed, looking up into the magnificent brown eyes you adored so much.

“Don’t you want to go home, or don’t you want to go home alone,” he asked, brushing his nose against yours.

“Don’t wanna go home without you,” you admitted, making him smile.

“Then let’s go to my place together, would that be an idea?”

You smiled as well, lifting your head so you could give him a quick kiss. But Ryan, being Ryan, did not let you get away so easily, and pulled you in instead, deepening the kiss, stealing your breath away.

“I’d love that,” you smiled when you eventually found the willpower to pull away.

“Sounds awesome,” Ryan grinned, his eyes scanning your face lovingly, and he brushed a single hair out of your face, “It’s this way.”

Taking each other’s hands, the suitcases in the other, you started making your way down the street.

Above you, the clouds broke and released a shower of icy rain, but for once neither Ryan nor you minded getting wet, because as you crossed the next street, both of you remembered the way you had met the first time, in the streaming rain.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman angst #ryan seaman mood board #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter #multi chapter story #his smile will keep you safe #final chapter #you can kill me now

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Eleven

Warnings: angst; mention of drugs, depression, and panic attacks; implied police brutality, racism

Word Count: 3 636

Naturally you were not the only one who had noticed that things were off. In fact everybody had noticed the changed dynamic between Ryan and you, but most of the guys had enough on their hands to do, so they did not really care. After all, you were adults who had to figure out their own problems.

The only one who really seriously started to worry, not only about the suddenly strange behaviour of Ryan, but also because of his rapidly declining mood, was Dallon. It was difficult for the bassist not to be affected by Ryan’s mood. After all, they not only shared a stage, but also a room most of the time.

And the room was filled with a brooding dark cloud as soon as Ryan stepped into it. Dallon had never really considered himself the Agony Aunt kind of guy, but it was obvious that his friend had trouble, and needed help, even if he probably did not want it. But then again, Dallon had never really cared much about what other people though either, so after the show on Friday, five days into Ryan’s changed act, he decided it was about time he had a serious talk with him.

As Dallon had expected, Ryan was not incredibly willing to open up, but once he did, in the privacy of their hotel room, and a shared bottle of wine later, it was like a wave broke free. And so Ryan shared everything that had happened. From how he had started to like you more and more, to how he knew for certain that you had stolen his heart away, how you had spent the night in the hotel lobby after the bus had been stolen, the night on the bridge, and how you had fallen asleep, curled into his side after the show that had been so sparsely visited.

And then he told Dallon about Lars. He told him what he knew about your past with the electrician, about the conversation he had had with him, and about the doubts, the insecurities and abysses, which had been awoken inside of him.

“You need to talk to her,” Dallon exclaimed.

He was overwhelmed by the story Ryan had told him. Of course he had known that the drummer and the photographer had slowly started to reach out for each other, but he could not believe a single word Lars seemed to have told Ryan. Never would you do something like that, not you. It was obvious that your affection towards Ryan was pure and honest, and non-existent towards Lars. That the other man’s words caused his friend to feel so broken and worthless, enraged Dallon beyond words, but that would all be fine if Ryan only would talk to you, so you would clear up the situation.

“I can’t, I can’t, Dallon,” Ryan cried, “I couldn’t stand the look in her eyes if she only confirmed everythi-“

“But she won’t! Do you really believe that she could do this to you? You haven’t seen the way she looks at you the way I do. She wants to be with you, she wants you to be happy, Ryan! And she couldn’t care any less for this bars- Lars! I’d go as far as saying that at the moment you’re her entire world, but you’re gambling with this, if you don’t go and talk to her; or at least share any interaction with her!

“No, no, no, Dallon, no. This way I at least have the glimmer of a hope that none of what he said is true, but if I talk to her then it becomes reality-“

“You’d rather miss out on the amazing time, the care and love of such a sweet girl than to face the pain of rejection,” Dallon’s eyes were wide, and he wanted to shake some sense into his friend, who had buried his face in his hands.

“I can’t take it, knowing she just used me,” Ryan whispered.

These words shut Dallon up for a while. He could not remember the last time he had felt this way about somebody. He was lucky enough to be married to the girl of his dreams, to have two beautiful, healthy children. It had been way more than a decade ago that he had faced this problem.

In a last attempt to console his friend, Dallon reached out his hand to pat Ryan’s shoulder, but he only flinched away, making Dallon realise that there was nothing more to do for him. He watched sadly as Ryan pulled his legs up to his chest and fell backwards on the bed, where he turned to the side, away from Dallon and curled into a small ball, closing his eyes.

~*~

It had been more than a week since Ryan had stopped talking to you, and to make things even worse, tour was almost over. After tonight, there were only two shows left, and the thought, to part ways with Ryan like this, after you had had so much fun together, was beyond painful to you. Having given up on trying understanding his changed behaviour, you had retreated into spending time mostly on your own. Charlie, Dallon and occasionally Lisa were the only ones who you had regular conversations with.

It seemed as if everyone had slowly but surely used up all their energy, and desperately needed the end of the tour to come as quickly as possible, to recharge. On stage the bands were still along the best ones you had ever heard, but between shows their power was obviously drained. The chatter and excited banter from the beginning of tour had died down, especially during the past days, and it felt like everyone was running on auto-mode, hoping to get home as soon as possible.

The only time things still felt the same was during the shows, when the music made everyone’s body and soul vibrate, and the enthusiasm of the fans fuelled the musicians throughout the evening. Even though you did not want to admit it to yourself, you felt the exhaustion too. Luckily you had successfully fought off your depression most of the time, but that in itself was energy draining. It was the same kind of draining as if you had a bad cold, and tried to function properly, but at least you did.

But without Ryan’s cheerful personality around, his smiles lighting up the room like rays of sunshine to catch during the days, the days blended into grey goo, one as bleak as the other. And even the shows lost their colour and magic, starting to feel more like a duty to you, than fun.

It was early afternoon, and you were sitting under a tree close to the venue. Since everybody was busy, you had gotten lunch on your own, now munching half-heartedly on some fries.

Lucas and Bill were busy with some last minute problems the venue had had with the electricity, Lisa and Lars had gone out to a restaurant, the “Three Beats” were sitting backstage, writing music, and Dallon was sitting on the bus together with Ryan, who did not talk to you.

Over chewing an especially limp fry, you punched a short message to your mother into your phone, and pressed sent. You did not want her to know that you were feeling really down right now, but you really missed your parents. After all, nobody else was around to console you.

Without a warning the door to the bus flew open far more violently than should be allowed, and made a huge bang, crashing into the side of the bus. Looking up, you saw Ryan almost falling out. Quickly he turned his head in both directions, and when he spotted you, he started sprinting over. Confused you furrowed your brows, and put your phone away, waiting for whatever Ryan seemed desperate to share with you, after one and a half weeks of not talking to you.

“You need to see this,” he almost shouted, coming to a halt in front of you. He looked irritated, and almost scared, which immediately rang some alarm bells in your mind.

Not daring to ask what had happened to shake him up like this, you jumped up from your place on the ground, and followed Ryan, who had immediately turned around, and ran back to the bus.

Inside the bus your eyes needed a second to adjust to the dimmer light. Ryan was standing right in front of the couch table, accusingly pointing towards one of the sofas. Dallon was standing next to it, a pair of scissors in hand, the other hand pressed into his side.

Stepping out from behind Ryan, you finally were able to see what they were staring at. The fabric that covered the seats of the couch had been torn, or rather cut, open, revealing something that did not look like the ordinary sofa cushion you would have expected.

Instead, peeking out from underneath a thrown back cushion foil, were things that looked like white bricks. From just one glance you could tell that each seat’s upholstery on the sofa had been replaced by at least fifteen of these white, milk-tetra-pack-sized objects.

Carefully you took a step closer, and then it hit you.

The white, in plastic foil covered bricks, were drugs. They looked different from what you had seen in movies, where they usually were wrapped with a brown tape, but there was no doubt that what Dallon and Ryan were showing to you was a heap of drugs.

“What-“ confused you turned to Ryan, who was still staring at their discovery.

“We were fooling around and accidently tore the fabric. That’s when we saw that it looked strange,” Dallon explained in a monotonous voice.

“We need to call the police,” you stuttered, already reaching for the phone in your pocket.

“I’ll do that,” Ryan decided, “You need to take pictures, so they know how it looks, in case this gets changed somehow.”

As in trance, you nodded, and quickly pushed past the two men towards the back, where you grabbed your camera off your bed. Turning on the rarely used flash, you started shooting pictures out of different angles, careful not to accidently move or touch anything. Ryan was talking on the phone, trying to explain the situation, but his voice faded into the background. Pedantically you captured everything you saw, then you took out the SD-card, and slipped it into your wallet.

“What are you doing,” Dallon asked, who had watched you.

“Taking pictures on the internal storage, just to be sure,” you explained, before you snapped a couple more pictures, then you plucked the SD-card back in.

No ten minutes later a police patrol had arrived. When Dallon and Ryan showed them the scene, they immediately called backup.

What followed were endless questions by different police officers, who took Dallon’s and Ryan’s fingerprints to rule them out, and confiscated the drugs. It turned out that underneath the top layer of each seat, another three layers had been hidden. In total there were almost 200 kilograms of drugs.

Of course the rest of the crew had noticed that something was going on, and everybody got questioned all over again. You were reminded of the night when the bus had been stolen, except that Ryan was a lot more distant now.

“Were there any suspects when the bus got stolen,” the police officer asked after most of the questioning was done.

Lucas shook his head.

“Not while we were around, and they didn’t tell us anything so far,” he explained.

The officer nodded and turned to one of his colleagues.

“Contact Minneapolis, ask if they got any lead on that,” turning back to Lucas he explained, “My best guess would be that while the bus was stolen, the drugs were hidden in there.”

“And the bus was returned so we would act as the carrier,” Bill completed the thought.

The policeman nodded.

“But how did they know where we’re going? And how did they think they would get the drugs back,” Luis asked wide eyed.

“The must’ve had an insider,” the man answered.

The whole time you had the strange feeling that he was always looking into Jay’s direction.

Of course the entire bus was confiscated by the police, searching for evidence and more drugs. This, once again, posed the problem of the lack of transportation.

In a desperate number of phone calls, ten minutes before the show started, Lucas manged to rent two vans that would hopefully be big enough to drive the team plus instruments across the county.

The atmosphere that night was strange. Obviously nobody was allowed to tell anyone, especially the fans, about the discovery from the afternoon, but the whole crew was tense and nervous. The idea to have been sitting hours and hours on several kilos of drugs made you feel sick, and you wondered if there really was a connection between the bus being stolen, and the drugs being hidden on board. But it was too crazy to be a mere coincidence.

As soon as “Three Beats” was done playing, and the stage had been set for Dallon and Ryan, Lucas and Bill headed to the car rental to get the vans. The whole situation made you feel sick. Everything was too stressful and too much to handle right now, and Ryan was back to not even talking to you, which made everything ten times worse.

You felt like you were suffocating in the hot air and the mass of bodies, moving to the familiar beat of a Brobecks song. Slowly you knees started feeling weak, and your breath got faster and faster.

This time you recognized the panic attack before it reached its high, and remembering Lucas’ offer to draw back when you needed time for yourself, you quickly left the venue.

The air outside was cool and refreshing. Thankful, you took a few deep breaths, managing to steady you breathing, and then slowly but surely your heartrate as well. Deciding to wait a few minutes before going back in, you walked up the street towards the backstage entrance, where Charlie, Luis and Jay were standing, quietly talking amongst themselves.

When they saw you, they waved you over, and Jay handed you a bottle of soda, which you took a few sips from. The sweet liquid was helping your dizzy mind to clear up quickly, and shortly after, you were listening attentively to the conversation.

“Look, I think they found something,” Luis suddenly pointed out, nodding into the direction of the officers that directly headed towards you.

“Let’s hope it’s good news,” Charlie whispered, and squeezed Luis’ hand tightly.

“Jay Campbell,” one of the officers asked.

“Yes, Sir?”

Jay peeked up at hearing his name, but his expression changed once he saw the aggression in the policemen’s faces.

“You’re under arrest for smuggling illegal substances,” the same man spoke, placing his hand on Jay’s shoulder, and turning him around forcefully so his back was facing the policemen.

With a quick motion he had cuffed Jay’s hands behind his back before anyone could even register what exactly was happening.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer for advice before we ask you any questions. You have the right to-“

The rest of the Miranda warning drowned in the rushing of blood in your ears. You could feel your cheeks heat up with hot anger, while your heart started hammering in your chest. But your blood felt like it had been replaced with ice crystals.

How dare they? How dare they accuse Jay of being a drug trafficker? He was one of the gentlest people you had ever met, never in a billion years would he do something like smuggle drugs, especially not after what he had told you about the town he had grown up in.

It did not surprise you that the first one to protest was Luis. With red head and babbling too many words at once to understand a single one of them, he stepped towards the police men who had cuffed his friend, shouting at them to let Jay go.

Charlie and you both noticed the small movements of the policemen, who placed their palms at their sides, where they had their guns. News articles mentioning yet another man shot by police flashed in your mind, and Charlie and you both synchronically reached out to pull Luis back, before anyone had the idea to do something very stupid.

Luis was still shouting, and struggled against you, while Jay was being led to the car, too surprised to do anything. The last thing you saw of the singer were his dreadlocks, held together by a band in the colours of his parents’ country of birth, Jamaica, disappearing behind the tinted windows of the closing car door.

Luis was still shouting when the car was long gone. Charlie and you had let go of the outraged man, who now was violently throwing his fists into the air, while kicking everything in his way, and screaming obscenities. You did not even notice that tears were running down your cheeks until Charlie handed you a tissue. Sniffing you took it, and watched how he carefully approached his friend. It took him a few minutes, but eventually Luis allowed the bassist to hug him, and snuggled into the embrace.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Charlie promised, and placed a soft kiss on Luis’ lips.

Admittedly slightly surprised, but not as surprised as you would have imagined to be, you decided to give the two some privacy.

You headed back towards the main entrance, where Bill and Lucas just arrived in the newly rented vans.

Lucas jumped out, proudly pointing towards the vehicles.

“Look at these beauties! We should have no problem to get everything inside! They have so much space! Now we have everything back in order,” he grinned, but stopped immediately when he saw your expression. “What’s wrong?”

Bill had jumped out as well, curiously walking over, and speeding up when he saw you were crying. Protectively he wrapped his arms around you, something he had never done before.

“They arrested Jay,” you whispered, letting out a shaky breath.

Lucas stayed calmer than you had imagined. Secretly you had thought he would throw a tantrum worse than Luis’s, but instead he pulled out his phone, and immediately started calling people. Then he climbed back into the van, and drove off, most likely towards the police station to find Jay.

When the others were finished with their jobs, and learned about what had happened, they reacted pretty much exactly as you had predicted. The men looked unbelieving, but too exhausted and done with the world to get really angry, and Lisa started crying.

Originally it had been planned to drive over night, so you would reach Cincinnati, the second last stop on tour, in the morning, so you could spend the last free day in the city, and did not have to worry about being late.

Now Bill organized a room in a small hostel instead. While Lisa, Luis, Charlie and Bill drove to the hostel, Ryan, Dallon, Lars and you started packing together. Bill later returned to pick up the equipment, and took you all back to where you would spend the night. He had even managed to organize a garage, after, according to Charlie, he had almost started crying in the attempt to explain why they could not risk getting the vehicle stolen.

The room you had been booked into was a dorm with ten beds, a sink, a long table in the middle, and a few armchairs scattered around the room.

Everyone was eerily quiet while settling in. Lisa was lying stretched out on the bed she had chosen, and only looked up as Lars sat down next to her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. You had a feeling that they had ended up getting quiet close lately, and even though you were disappointed Lisa had not listened to your advice, you did not find it in you to care about her life choices. And it was not your business anyway.

That night nobody dared going to sleep. You sat on the table, staring into the distance, while everybody else was following their thoughts individually. Again and again your mind circled around the image of Jay being taken away in handcuffs; and how the policemen’s hands had immediately moved towards their guns when Luis had stepped forward. You did not want to believe what your brain was telling you, that they probably would not have reached for their guns if it had been Charlie, Bill, Lucas, Lars, Dallon, or Ryan who stepped towards them. But Luis, with his black hair and black eyes, and the slightly Arabian features… and then what about Jay?

Lucas had called shortly after you had reached the hostel, saying that they had no evidence against Jay, but wanted to hold him. If they had no evidence, then why had they arrested him in the first place? Again and again a word swam to the surface of your conciseness, but you could not believe it. There was no way that this was happening to one of your friends.

“We’re all thinking about Jay, aren’t we,” Dallon eventually mumbled.

It was about four am, but nobody was lying on their beds. Not knowing what the others were doing, you nodded your head quietly.

“And we’re all thinking the same thing, I guess,” he added, and you knew he had his head hanging low.

It was Charlie who eventually answered after a long break.

“Fucking racism.”

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter #multi chapter story #fanfiction #fanfic #angst #depression #depressed!reader #racisim #drugs #tw drugs #trigger warning #his smile will keep you safe

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Masterlist - His Smile Will Keep You Safe

Summary: Being a photographer for a touring band had always been your dream. So when you got the offer to get out of your home state for the first time in your life to tour with the band iDKHOW, you definitely don’t refuse. The only thing that worries you is the fact, that your ex-boyfriend is also part of the crew, trying to win you back, which you most definitely do not want. But luckily, to make everything better, there is the band’s drummer Ryan, who seems to be just the person you never knew you needed in your life.

Pairing: Ryan Seaman x Reader

All Warnings (it’s not as dangerous as it looks): violence, racism, drugs, alcohol consumption, harassment, swearing, emotional abuse, stalking(?), mention of depression, graphic description of depression, graphic description of panic attack, angst, anxiety, police brutality,

Total Word count: ≈ 60 000

A/N: To, and for, the beautiful and amazing girl who got me into iDKHOW

Character mood boards (The Bamd, The Opening Band “Three Beats”, The Crew)

Prologue

Chapter One (warnings: slight injury, f-bomb)

Chapter Two (warnings: mentions of emotional abuse, biphobia (i guess))

Chapter Three (warnings: harassment, mention of depression)

Chapter Four (warnings: stalking(?), harassment)

Chapter Five (warnings: alcohol consumption)

Chapter Six  (warnings: mentions of depression and alcohol)

Chapter Seven (warnings: graphic description of depression and panic attack)

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten (warnings: angst, anxiety)

Chapter Eleven (warnings: angst, anxiety, racism, mentions of drugs, implied police brutality)

Chapter Twelve (warnings: racism, drugs, angst, anxiety, extensive swearing, mention of depression)

Chapter Thirteen (warnings: angst, anxiety, harassment, violence, alcohol)

Chapter Fourteen (warnings: angst, anxiety)

Epilogue

#masterlist #his smile will keep you safe #ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #mulit chapter #fanfiction #fanfic

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Eight

Word Count: 4 117

Within minutes all the crew members had met up in the lobby. Ryan and you had jumped up in disbelieve, and run outside to see if the bus really was missing, and it was. All the others did the same, and by the time the police arrived, the lobby was filled with different emotions, all displayed rather openly.

Luis and Bill were fuming with anger, their heads bright red. Lucas was already on the phone with the label, trying to stay calm. Charlie and you were both rather lost, occasionally shooting each other helpless glances, before focusing on your friends again. Lisa was crying, Jay was angrily rambling, and Dallon and Ryan were standing together in a corner of the room, despair and anger written into their faces.

Slowly you made your way over to them.

“All our stuff is on the bus, all of it,” Ryan exclaimed, “All the instruments, and the speakers and technology; even the laptop with the lightshow and the pre-show music!”

“All we have is the stuff we took in your night bags,” Dallon added.

“And my cam,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed that you were the only one who still had their equipment.

“What do we do if we don’t get our bus back,” Ryan asked, and you noticed his eyes glimmering with held back tears, “What do we do without our stuff? We can’t afford to just buy everything again!”

“We’re totally screwed, like – beyond imagination screwed,” Dallon shook his head, and a shiver ran down his spine, making him shift uncomfortably.

“But the tour-,” you stuttered, “They won’t stop the tour, will they?”

“We don’t have any of our equipment, how are we supposed to play,” Ryan asked.

He sounded angry, so angry in fact that you subconsciously took a step back, which immediately caused him to look sorry. After all he was not mad at you, he was mad at whoever had taken the bus.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, reaching out his hand for yours, casting his eyes on the floor, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just so…”

“Worked up,” you suggested, and he nodded.

Giving him a small smile, you reached for his hand, which was still outstretched towards you, and linked your fingers with his.

Before anyone had time to add anything to the conversation, the door flung open, and a couple of police officers entered the lobby.

Lucas stepped forward and quickly explained what had happened, making the officers nod. He had already given a description and the number plate of the vehicle while he had been on the phone with the police station, and the police men promised that the bus was already being searched for.

One after the other they read out your names, asking you to separate from the group so they could question all of you.

“Charles Bellete, and William?” The police woman who read out the names looked up from her note pad, “Are you related?”

“Brothers, actually,” Bill explained, and got up from the sofa where he had been sitting.

“You don’t look very much alike,” this came from the officer, who motioned Charlie to follow him.

“What we don’t look alike, our younger twin brothers got double in looking-alikeness,” he joked bitterly, and followed the officer into a back room.

When it was your turn, it was already past two am. You were incredibly tired, and yet shaking anxiously. At first you thought it was the idea to get questioned by the police, but then you realized that it was the possibility of this being the end of your adventure, which upset you beyond words.

The room, in which you were questioned, was a small office without windows. On all sides of the room shelves, filled to the brim with folders, rose up to the ceiling. In the middle stood a small table on which two middle-aged men were waiting for you to sit down.

After you had given your name and date of birth, they started questioning you about your evening, and patiently you explained to them that after you had climbed off the bus, you had gotten your room keys, carried your bag upstairs, and then met with Ryan in the lobby until Lucas came bursting in to tell you the bus had been stolen.

“And did either of you two leave at some point, to use the bathroom for example,” one man asked.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Neither of us left.”

You thought back to how close you had been sitting, how Ryan had practically pulled you into his chest while watching you click through the pictures. If either of you had wanted to get up, it would have meant to interrupt this comfortable moment, and you definitely would have remembered that.

Looking at you for a moment, the police man noted something down, then looked back up at you.

“Are you sure you remember that correctly,” he asked.

You furrowed your brows. “Yes, I am,” you told him, sounding almost salty, “We sat very close the whole time. If either of us had gotten up, I definitely would remember.”

He nodded, seeming to believe you.

“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary,” the other man asked.

“You mean, apart from the fans who try to get a glance into the bus at the venue,” you wondered, and gave it a good thought, “I don’t think I saw anything, no.”

“Anyone who behaved differently, anyone who disappeared without a notice?”

You shook your head.

“No, I… I don’t think so, everything was as always,” you shrugged, but then hesitated, “Lisa, who I’m sharing a room with, was not in the room when I dropped my stuff off, but I think she was just hanging out with the others…”

The men nodded, noted something down once more, and stood up.

“Thank you for answering these questions, Miss,” they spoke, “It would be appreciated if you could stay in the hotel, in case we have any other questions.”

“Of course, thank you for your help,” you replied, and stood up as well, shaking their hands, before one of them opened the door for you, and lead you back to the lobby.

You had been one of the last people who had been questioned, and the last one was Lisa. But on your way to the elevator, you noticed Ryan lying stretched out on one of the sofas facing the aquarium.

Hesitating in your steps, you shot him another glance, then you turned on your heels, and walked over to where he was sitting. Lifting his feet up, you sat down, and placed his feet in your lap. Quietly he looked at you. It was easy to tell that he was deep in thought, and yet glad that you were here with him.

For a while you sat in silence, your eyes fixed on the colourful fish that swam around in their perfect, little underwater world. You imagined it had to be quite relaxing, being a fish, since your brain would be so small that there would probably be little space for other thoughts than “Food? Food? Food!”.

These contemplations were interrupted by Ryan pulling his feet out of your lap, and sitting up. He placed his elbows on his knees, and covered his face with his hands, his chin resting against his palm. Worried you looked over at the drummer, who always seemed to be so happy and cheerful. But now his energy was drained, and he looked as lost and helpless as you felt.

“I just don’t know what to do,” he whispered from between his fingers.

You wanted to reach out to him, tell him everything would be alright, hug him, kiss him, and curl yourself into his side to reassure him that the situation was not as bad as it seemed, but you could not. For once, you lacked the confidence to initiate the physical contact, never mind that he maybe did not want it, but also you were just as clueless and worried as him.

So instead of being able to comfort him in anyway, you just sat there in silence. Now, after the first shock had settled, after the disbelieve of what had happened slowly faded, and got replaced by the realization that yes, in fact the bus with all the equipment had really been stolen, you felt like crying. Your chest was all tight, breathing was hard, as if a belt had been wrapped around your middle too tightly, preventing you from taking deep breaths.

In the back of your throat and nose a burning sensation warned you of the tears that flooded your eyes seconds later, and spilled over, yet you made no sound. Instead you sat on the sofa, staring at the aquarium, but not really. For you, the aquarium was not even there, you just stared into the distance.

Having no clue for how long you had been sitting like that, you barely noticed when Ryan started moving again. Only when something warm and heavy fell into your lap, you got startled. Looking down, you were met with Ryan’s warm brown eyes that tiredly stared up at you from where he had laid his head on your thigh.

His blue hair spread out over your trousers, and his skin glimmered in the blue and green light that was shed by the aquarium. His eyes seemed to suck you in, his gaze flickering over your face ceaselessly, as if the answer as how to continue was hidden in your features.

He looked sad and tired, his eyes with every blink staying closed for a little longer than was normal. Not even realizing what you did, you reached a hand into his hair, carefully brushing through the soft strands. You let them glide through your fingers, admiring the smoothness of his colourful hair. Like silk the strands were flowing over your hands, and you could not get enough of watching locks of his hair getting wrapped around your fingers when you gently massaged his sculp.

It felt so right, sitting here with him, so close and peaceful, while the world around you had settled momentarily before breaking into chaos once more as soon as the sun would rise.

You had never believed in fate or destiny, but in these moments, minutes, hours, of holding Ryan, you felt like you were in harmony with the universe, a feeling which was new and foreign to you, nothing you had ever felt with anyone else. And it made you happy, happier than you were able to put into words.

Ryan had been watching your face intently the whole time. He adored the way your eyes fluttered from your hands in his hair, to his eyes, and back, and he was in complete awe of how beautiful you were. Not just now, but always. You had a grace and elegance about you, not obvious maybe, and not always displayed on the outside, but in your character.

The gentle and calm way you combed your fingers through his hair was addicting, the little tucks when you encountered a small knot, the warmth of your hand radiating onto his skin. And even though he wanted to stay awake so desperately, wanted to be able to remember every second of this intimate moment between the two of you, wanted to look at you the whole night, he eventually fell asleep.

~*~

In the morning Ryan and you had been woken by a maid who was vacuuming the lobby. She shot you an apologetic look when you had jumped awake by the sudden noise, and quickly continued doing her job.

The sun had not yet risen outside, the sky had been of a dark purple, but most birds were already singing when Ryan had woken up too, and together you had started walking around the hotel aimlessly, until breakfast.

Afterwards, Lucas had hurried all of the band and crew members to get to the police station, where further statements were collected, and collectively you tried to remember anything out of the ordinary, even if it might have nothing to do with the bus having been stolen.

The peace from the night on the sofa with Ryan was only a faded memory, now that people were running around everywhere, loud talking filled the room, and a tension almost too big to stand hung in the air.

You were nervous, your heart beating hard against your ribs, as if a state of panic would help anyone resolve your situation any sooner. Lucas was constantly on the phone with the label, police officers constantly entered and left the conference room in which they had set you up, and as if the stress was not big enough already, you felt aggression rising between the members of “Three Beats”, as if any of them were to blame for the disappearance of the bus.

You were beyond glad to be able to leave the room in the evening. The still warm, but fresh air helped you to clear your thoughts, and even Jay and Luis who had been close to getting into a physical fight seemed to calm down. Everyone was exhausted from the day, trying to remember every single detail of the evening before, of the constant answering of questions, and especially the uncertainty.

If the bus would not turn up tomorrow, you would be screwed. The day after tomorrow you had to be in the fourteen-hour-drive distant Manchester, and if you did not make it, then tour was as good as over. Lucas had tried to get the label to improvise something, but it was a small label, and they had no equipment they could just send out into the world like that, not to mention the budget to quickly buy instruments for two bands plus the lighting.

After a half-hearted dinner, puzzled together from a quick stop by a supermarket close by, everyone went back to the hotel. Unlike the night before, Ryan and you bid goodbye in the lobby and retreated back to your rooms.

With a sigh you sat down on your bed, and looked around the room. The curtains in front of the window were of thick, green fabric, and through a small gap in them you saw the street lanterns turn on, spreading orange light into the darkness.

Lisa entered the room too, head hanging low, and eyes cast to the floor. Almost instinctively you wanted to ask what was going on, but you stopped yourself. Were you really interested in other people’s problems? Did you not have enough problems of your own? But then again she was a crew member, and having a good relationship with the rest of the team was important to you. And even if she could be annoying sometimes, you cared about her.

“Hey, everything okay,” you asked softly, watching as the blonde girl sunk down on her bed, shaking her head. “Whoa, don’t cry!”

Seeing the glimmering of tears in her eyes, you quickly jumped up and sat down next to her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders. “What happened?”

“I just- I just don’t know what to do,” she whispered, leaning her head against yours. She smelled of sweet flowers.

Patiently you waited for her to calm down a little, then she started talking. “Jay and I went out a couple of times,” she told you, reminding you of how much in love she had been with him all the time, and how dreamy she had looked whenever she looked at him, “but- I don’t know- it… it was nothing like I imagined, and- I really thought this would be so perfect, but- we just don’t have the chemistry, and he noticed that too- and… and then the bus got stolen, and he said he doesn’t think we’ll work out-“

Her rambling got interrupted by a sob; and your heart broke a little for her. Yes, she had annoyed you sometimes with all the talk about Jay, and then Lars, and men in general. But she did not deserve to be heartbroken like this. She was a kind, young woman with a big heart, and although oblivious and naïve sometimes, she was sweet and caring. She deserved to be happy.

You tightened your embrace, and rubbed little circles into the thin, crème coloured cardigan she wore, trying to calm her down. Of course you could not hug away her sadness, but you could try, and you should be damned if you didn’t.

For a long while you sat on her bed, hugging, and her telling you about the dates she had been on with Jay, and how, even though she had told him she was not interested, Lars continued trying to flirt with her.

During this conversation you started feeling guilty always having escaped the other times she wanted to talk about this. She really felt bad about being in love with Jay but also being fascinated by Lars.

You knew what she meant, how Lars was able to draw people in just by looking at them. That was how you had fallen in love with him back at college, but now, after everything he had done to you back then, the spell on you was broken. Of course Lisa did not know about all the things that had happened to you, so when she started admitting that she was thinking about drowning her sorrows in Lars’s arms, you had to interfere.

“Listen, I know it’s tempting to do that, but please don’t,” you begged her, offering her the bag of crisps you had gotten in the supermarket, and pulled out of your bag several minutes ago. “Hardly anybody on tour knows this, but Lars and I knew each other before we met because of Lucas.”

Lisa, who had by now sat back up straight again, looked at you with wide eyes, pulling out some crisps as if she was watching a thrilling movie.

“We were in college together, were a couple, and he did the exact same thing with me back then, getting my attention, pretending not to notice me, then starting to give me these looks that just… enchant you, you know? They draw you in and let you forget anything else, any risk and argument against being with him.

And when I got together with him, it was heaven, at first. But then he started sucking the life out of me, and he started to use me for what he wanted. In the beginning I though, Hey, this is a relationship, giving and taking, right?

But it wasn’t like that, he wasn’t like that. He just took and took and took, and never gave anything back. He made a thousand mistakes along the way, but just the smallest mistake from my side, and it was the end of the world.

And then he started cheating, and did not see the mistake at his side, just searched excuses why I had made him cheat. And he tore me down, and once I finally broke up with him, it took me ages to recover from all the damage he had done to me, not physical, but mental. And even though I wished he changed, I don’t think he really has.

Remember when he kinda attacked me?” Lisa nodded, still listening with wide eyes, “that sort of behaviour just tells me he still is the same egoistic a- person as he was back then.

And just using him to get over Jay won’t work, because in the end he’ll just make you feel even worse about yourself. I wish it was different, and I won’t tell you not to do whatever you feel like doing, but I advise against it.”

Lisa nodded quietly, crunching on the crisps you were holding out for her.

“I see,” she mumbled, “thank you for being so honest with me.”

For a while you sat in silence, munching on the salty snacks you were holding, before you eventually decided to brush your teeth, and go to bed. When you left the bathroom, Lisa had fallen asleep curled into a tight ball on top of her pillow. Without making a single noise, you tip-toed over to your own bed, crawled underneath the soft blanket, and within seconds you were tight asleep as well.

~*~

After a delicious breakfast, you went to take a cold shower, mentally preparing for the news Lucas would give you undoubtedly this afternoon. Tour was over, without the bus, without the equipment there was no show, and therefore no tour. You would have to go home, all of you, and this exciting adventure into the big, wide world, even it if was “only” the US, would be over far earlier than you had expected.

While cold water ran over your shoulder and back, you realized just how angry and sad it made you. Without a doubt you had learned a lot in the last weeks, how to stand up for yourself against people, specifically Lars, who once had hurt you, how it was possible to make such a huge thing work with complete strangers, and how to fall in love without being constantly scared.

Because you were in love, of course you were in love, and now the only thing that scared you was being separated from Ryan before you had found the confidence to admit it to him. And it was too early for that, you felt like you were not even sure of your own feelings yet, and you needed to be sure before you told anyone, most of all Ryan, about this.

Maybe you could exchange numbers, so you could stay in contact? From what you understood, he was living in Salt Lake City too, so it probably was within the reach of possibility that he might like to meet up with you again.

You thought back to the night in the lobby, the way he had looked at you, and your heart jumped a little in your chest, realizing that maybe, maybe there really was a chance that this was not too impossible.

After you had finished packing your things, you shouldered your bag, and made your way down the stairs towards the lobby. Deep in thoughts you did not notice the tumult that was going on downstairs until the door to the stairwell flew open right in front of you, and Bill almost bumped into you.

Confused you stared up at the man, who seemed to be buzzing with excitement. Before you even had the chance to ask what was going on, he wrapped you in a quick, but strong hug.

“The bus is back,” he cheered, pulling away and taking your face between his hands, “the bus is back!”

And with that he drew away, and ran up the stairs.

The bus was back?

Even more confused, you entered the lobby, where Lucas was once again on his phone, Jay and Luis were excitedly discussing something, and Charlie stood at the window, looking outside, smiling brightly.

Joining the bassist, you glanced out of the window as well, and a wave of disbelief hit you as you realized that yes, in fact the bus was back. The silver-grey vehicle stood outside, parked at the side of the street as if had been standing there since the dawn of time.

“It’s all there,” Charlie mumbled fascinated, not being able to take his eyes off of the returned bus. “Lucas and Bill checked. All the instruments and devices, and all the equipment are still there, even our personal belongings.”

He looked at you wide eyed, and grinned.

“I’m tempted to believe in a higher force,” he giggled.

Relieved you let out a breath. Even though the question why the bus, without anything missing, had been returned to you without an explanation, settled into the back of your mind, you were swept of your feet by the euphoria it caused you, and when Ryan entered the lobby a few minutes later, you ran over to him, excitedly hugging the drummer, who returned the hug without hesitation, burying his nose in your neck.

After the police had searched the bus for fingerprints and DNA, finding neither, and after questioning everybody once again, it was almost five pm before you were allowed back on the bus. They police promised to continue their investigation, but finally gave green light for the crew to continue their journey, and after two and a half days of devastation and fear that this beautiful experience might be over, the wheels of the bus finally started moving again, carrying the crew towards Manchester, so the next show could be prepared just in time.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman angst #fanfiction #fanfic #mulit chapter #ryan seaman multi chapter story #his smile will keep you safe

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Epilogue

Word Count: 469

The rolls of your suitcase rattled over the pavement as you hurried down the street.

“Come on, hurry up,” you encouraged the man behind you, “we’re late already!”

“I’m literally one half of the band, sweetie, they’ll not take off without us,” Ryan assured, catching up with you, and taking your free hand in his.

“I wish I had your confidence, you know how Lucas is. I’d not be surprised, if they took off, and asked us to take the train, or something,” you shook your head.

Ryan giggled.

“See, they’re still there,” he pointed to the bus that got into sight as you rounded the last corner.

“There you are,” Bill pocked his head out of the still open door. “Lucas was about to have you take the train!”

“Told you so,” you laughed, and handed Bill your suitcase, which he helped lifting into the bus.

“Okay, I admit it, next time we should be more on time,” Ryan laughed, allowing you to help you with his suit case as well.

“They’re here,” Bill shouted to the front, where Lucas was sitting behind the wheel already.

“About time,” he growled, and started driving, not waiting for Ryan or you to settle down.

“We? You were the one who pushed snooze like- ten times,” you laughed, gently pretending to punch Ryan’s arm.

“You weren’t complaining about the additional cuddles though,” he defended.

“Okay, so in other news, let’s not push that snooze button anymore, and let’s find better times for snuggles than the morning of take-off for the new tour,” you summarized, making Ryan nod.

“Is the couple already fighting,” Dallon asked, poking his head out from behind the curtains to the bunk bed area. “The new opening band and the two new crew members won’t even know what’s happening!”

“You wish we were fighting,” Ryan laughed, poking his tongue out at his friend who frowned.

“Ew, rather not, the last time you weren’t taking to her felt, it like you were causing the apocalypse simply because of your mood!”

Giggly, Dallon disappeared behind the curtain again, just in time to escape the pullover you had taken off in the meantime, and had thrown at him.

“So, what now, settling in,” you asked, pretending the pullover incident had never happened.

“How about a ‘welcome to tour as our forever-photograph’-kiss first?”

“Dunno, do I also get like… a certificate?”

Ryan rolled his eyes.

“No, certificates are only given to exceptionally good kiss receivers, but you might actually have a chance with that category,” he joked.

You squeezed your eyes at him, making him laugh.

“Whatever,” you decided, and pulled him in for a kiss, which took him by surprise, but he quickly responded by wrapping you in his arms, the way he knew you loved so much. “Welcome to tour.”

A/N: Now you may kill me

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter #multi chapter story #his smile will keep you safe #epilogue

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Twelve

Warnings: racism, drugs, angst, anxiety, extensive swearing, mention of depression

Word Count: 3 706

The show in Cincinnati was not featuring the „Three Beats“. After Jay’s arrest, both Charlie and Luis were too shaken up, and without their guitarist and lead singer they were helpless anyway.

At the end of the free day, which Lucas had spent entirely at the police station, the crew heavy heartedly climbed onto the rented vans, and drove to Cincinnati. Leaving Jay behind felt wrong, but there was nothing any of you could have done for him.

Luis and Charlie asked for your help to film a short video, in which they announced that they would not be able to play the remaining two shows, because “Jay’s had an incident in the family”. It was not difficult to tell that they both were suffering from the accusations against their friend, the whole team suffered, but nobody knew how to help.

Lucas had offered them to go back home, but they had insisted that they wanted to finish the tour properly, and since there were only two days left, nobody complained. Honestly, you had the feeling that neither of the two of them wanted to be left alone with their emotions right now, and this way you had some company during the times when Dallon and Ryan were out giving interviews.

You reached Indianapolis around noon, after you had spent the night in Cincinnati. When the tour had started, you had imagined that everyone would be happy and cheerful on the last day, celebrating that the tour was successfully over, but with how things were, there was nothing to celebrate, and everybody felt far from cheerful.

You had trouble getting up that morning again, but you kept it to yourself. It was the last day, and you did not want to worry anybody with your problems. There still were no news of Jay, and by now you had given up hope on receiving any. The venue in Indianapolis was bigger than any others before, and featured an impressively big stage.

As soon as you had arrived, you searched for a corner with a power outlet, and plugged your computer in, starting to edit the pictures that still were left. This managed to draw your attention away from the dark thoughts circling your mind. At least until the first picture of Ryan appeared on your screen. Completely dumbfounded you stared at the shot, admiring the way his hair was flying around his head while he was drumming, and the dreamy expression on his face.

You assumed he was able to escape reality for a while when he was playing, and even though last night had features far too few smiles from him, it probably had been a nice distraction. But then you remembered that he still was not talking to you. Again, like so many times during the past two weeks, you felt your heart shatter at the thought that he probably did not want anything to do with you. The cause was still a mystery to you, but you had accepted it.

But that still did not change the way you felt about him. It had occurred to you several weeks ago that you were falling in love with him, but by now you almost would go as far as saying that you loved him. And no matter what he thought about you, you wanted him to know.

Still staring at the photograph of Ryan, you made a decision. Since tonight was the last night of tour, you would tell him. You would tell him how you felt, because if he did not like it, did not feel the same, behaved weirdly, or things turned out badly in any other way, you never had to see him again. And in the unlikely case of him not turning you down, you could figure out what to do.

The flow of your bubbling emotions was interrupted by Bill, who suddenly stood in front of you.

“Do you have time,” he asked, looking down to you sitting on the floor.

“Sure, what’s up,” you nodded, thinking it was about unloading equipment.

“We got a call from the label, and they want you to take some last pictures of Ryan and Dallon, like a small shooting. Some of them together, and then them individually. Could you do that?”

Closing your laptop, you nodded, and got up from the floor, picking everything up along the way.

“I’ll just get my camera.”

Dallon was waiting in a room backstage, which, much to your surprise and joy, actually featured three different lamps for creating the perfect lighting to take pictures. Since Ryan was not there yet, you started with a couple of pictures of Dallon.

The room had a broad sofa in front of a wall, plastered with multiple posters, all supposedly from the most famous bands that had played this venue. A small table next to the sofa with some little knickknacks added detail to the scene, and so did the shelf, which was hung over the table, filled with books and a plant that had their branches reaching downwards.

It was interesting to use the light sources you had the chance to use, trying out the different effects it had on the mood of the pictures. Of course you had done this in college, and you had taken Lisa’s portraits some time back, but these lights offered new possibilities.

Most of the time, you were working in silence. You were focused on how to stage the scene, and Dallon seemed to be in deep thought.

Since Ryan had told him what had happened, he could not quite stop thinking about it. It pained him to know his friend was heartbroken, and it was not hard to guess that you were too. But Ryan had made him swear that he would not mention anything to you, and he was a man of his word, at least until tonight. If things should not have magically cleared up by then, he would not hesitate to tell you everything Ryan had told him, and convince you to talk to the drummer. Hell, if he had to, he would drag Ryan to you, explain everything and then lock you two in a room together until you had made up, or out, whichever would happen first.

By the time Ryan finally found you, you had taken tons of pictures of Dallon already, but also figured out your favourite lighting. You thought, having the pictures for the label all taken in the same scene would be the most coherent, so after you had finished the ones of Dallon, you quickly took a couple of shots of the two of them together.

After you had taken a couple of snaps from different positions, you announced that Dallon was done, and you only needed to photograph Ryan now. For some reason you had expected Dallon to stay, and even if only so the atmosphere would not get to weird between Ryan and you, but he got up, and almost immediately left the room.

Biting you lip, and ignoring the hammering heart in your chest, you looked over at Ryan, who was watching you closely.

“I’ll be quick,” you promised, and started kneeling down on the carpet in front of the sofa, already having a good idea of what you wanted the pictures to look like.

Ryan was staring at you, trying to soak in every second you were in his company. Damn, you were perfect; the shade of your hair, such smooth skin, and the shirt that was the perfect middle between tight and loose on your body.

Part of him still refused to believe that Lars had told him the truth, refused to believe that you had only been playing him, that he was letting you slip through his fingers. But he was so scared, so scared that what Lars had told him was true. And as he had told Dallon, he did not know if he could handle knowing for sure that all of the affection you had shown him had been faked.

So instead he watched you, the way your fingers skilfully moved over the filigree mechanics of the camera, how strands of your hair shifted on your head when you moved, and the small glances you took to look between the camera screen and him. He could have sat here forever, imagining all your attention was focused on him, and him alone.

How much he wanted to be the only thing you could think about! Of course he knew that in reality you were working on getting a picture done, and he just happened to be in the picture by accident, but the little fantasy was too sweet to let go like that.

Ryan seemed zoned out while you were working. It was hard focusing on getting the perfect angle, one that looked artistic, but not too weird, when all you really wanted to do was to capture every single detail, each little imperfection of his face, every tiny dent in his lips.

If he still refused to talk to you, if you really had to part with him after tonight, you wanted to have pictures to remember him by, and you wanted them to be as detailed as possible, so you could study his face in the photographs the way you would have done in real life, until the pain was over. But you resisted the urge to take close ups, feeling it would not only be really creepy, but also overstepping your boundaries.

“We’re done,” you eventually decided, getting up from the floor where you had been kneeling in the end.

Ryan flinched, as if he had gotten jump scared by your voice, but shot you a small smile.

“Thanks,” he whispered, getting up from that sofa.

This was already more interaction than you had expected, so trying your luck, just in case, you tried to start a conversation.

“Looking forward to going home?”

He shrugged.

“I really like touring,” he answered, while his mind added, and I really love touring with you, but he did not say it out loud, “and honestly I just want this nightmare to be over. First the bus, then the drugs, and the thing with Jay…”

“Me too,” you agreed, turning off your camera and putting the cap in front of the lens.

“Any plans for when you get home?”

Does lying in bed and cry about you count as a plan, you wondered in your mind.

“Not really, maybe visiting my family,” you replied instead, “I miss them.”

“How’ve you been, mentally wise, I mean?”

Ryan’s sudden interest irritated you, but you were definitely not going to complain.

“I don’t know, not so great since Jay,” you admitted.

You could feel Ryan’s eyes on your face as you looked down to the floor, feeling ashamed for how your mind affected you, even though there was no reason to be ashamed for it. To your surprise you saw his feet shuffling into your vision, and suddenly his warm hands brushed against yours, which were still holding the camera that was dangling from your neck.

“It’s gonna be alright, I promise,” Ryan whispered into your ear. He had bent down so his head was right next to yours, his nose almost brushing your hair, and his breath fanning over your skin.

You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him in that second, to burry your face in his shoulders, and let his shirt soak up the hot tears that were stinging in your eyes. You wanted to feel him close, to hold him like your life depended on it, and if he rejected that, then so be it, and you could close the chapter.

Having the feeling that maybe he would not back away, you pulled your hands out from under his and were about to wrap them around him, his arms already moving to reach for your waist to pull you closer, when just in that moment the door jumped open, and Lars walked in.

“(Y/n), Lucas needs you,” he announced, shooting Ryan a strange look, which you could not help but notice.

Hesitantly you stepped away from Ryan, wondering if this had been the last chance you would ever get with him, and walked out of the room, your hand brushing against Ryan’s a last time, suddenly picking up on an unfamiliar tension which seemed to build up between the two males who were staring at each other in an almost challenging manner.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you left. You had made it already half-way over the dance floor towards the bar where Lucas was waiting, when suddenly, without any reason or cause something clicked together. It felt like two puzzle pieces getting connected, and everything made sense.

Ryan had not suddenly grown distant because of something you had said or done, or because he had decided out of the blue that he did not want anything to do with you. He had distanced himself because of Lars. There was no doubt in your mind that Lars had said something to Ryan, which had caused him to behave this weirdly.

What had he told him? That he should keep his hands away from you? Had he made up some lie about you not liking Ryan? From how you knew Lars, it was not even out of the range of possibilities that he had said you just wanted to make Lars jealous to get him back by pretending to like Ryan.

That asshole! He had caused you two weeks of misery just because he was not able to accept that you had moved on from him? Of course this was just a theory, but it fit perfectly, it explained everything. And you needed to confirm or deny this immediately; no matter if it was with Ryan or Lars, you needed to know.

You had stopped in the middle of the room, and Lucas was already waving you over, but you turned around on your heels, and ran back to where you had come from, rather inelegant, but effectively quick.

Rage was bubbling in your chest as you stormed back to the room where you had taken the pictures. You did not even know what exactly you were going to say, but you knew it would not be pretty. Except that when you pushed open the door, the room was empty. The lamps had been turned off, and with the little light that fell in from the corridor, you saw that both men had left the room.

Standing there for a moment, you considered what to do, but eventually decided to go back to Lucas, and talk to either of them later.

Lucas had just finished explaining what kind of pictures he had in mind for the night, something which he had rarely done before, when the door to the venue opened, and a hand full of people entered.

The three men and two women were wearing what looked like button-up shirts and suit trousers, but on top they wore bulletproof vests, with the three yellow letters, spelling out DEA.

Lucas and you, along with Bill, Charlie and Luis, who also had hung out in the bar, immediately straightened. If the Drug Enforcement Administration was here, this was definitely about what Ryan and Dallon had found on the bus. Before anyone managed to open their mouth to ask about Jay, the man in the front started talking.

“We’re looking for Kathrin Lewis,” he spoke, making everyone share confused looks.

“Who?”

The man pulled out a photo, and handed it to Lucas, who was standing closest.

“We were told she’s one of your tour members,” the DEA officer explained.

Getting on your tiptoes, you spied over Lucas’ shoulder to see what the picture was showing. It was obviously a mugshot, like the ones you saw in movies, in front of a wall with height markings. The person in the picture was pale, purple circles under the eyes, and un-brushed, tousled hair. But you recognized the face anyway. Familiar brown eyes stared up at you, except for that in this picture they were filled with hatred, not girlish cheerfulness.

“Do you know her?”

The brothers and Luis also stepped closer to take a look.

“Yeah, yeah of course, but her name isn’t Kathrin Lewis,” Lucas muttered, handing the picture to Charlie, who took a sharp breath as he recognized the girl, “It’s Lisa Roberts.”

“We already assumed she’d be using a different name, where can we find her,” the officer asked.

You barely heard the conversation going on. Blood was rushing in your ears, and you started to feel dizzy. Were they accusing Lisa of having placed the drugs on the bus? Why did they have a mugshot of her? This had to be a mistake!

Bill offered to lead four of the officers to the van, where he had last seen Lisa. With shaking knees you sat down. The officer who had stayed behind with the rest of the team in the bar, shot you a concerned glance, but you ignored it.

This was crazy. First they accused Jay and arrested him, then the stuff with Ryan, and Lars’s most likely involvement, and now they were after Lisa? You never had believed for a second that Jay was responsible, but somehow you were not quite as certain about this when you thought about Lisa. And they had a mugshot of her, which proofed that she had been in trouble with the law before.

Half a minute later, voices grew loud outside. The officer turned towards the door, everyone’s eyes following him, before Charlie walked over to peek outside. Luis and Lucas followed him, and so did the officer, so you got up as well to see what the turmoil was all about.

The scene outside was shocking, but not because it was very brutal, but because it was against anything you had ever expected to see Lisa like.

Two of the DEA officers had grabbed her by the upper arms, her hands cuffed behind her back, while she struggled and screamed, trying to wriggle out of the strong grasps of their hands. Most of the time her feet were not even touching the ground, and the girl you had always experienced as sweet and a little childish, and cute and caring, all of a sudden had turned into what people in the middle ages would probably have described as demonic possession.

She screamed obscenities, half of which you did not even know what they meant, while her eyes were shooting flashes of mad rage. All of a sudden the girl in front of you resembled the girl in the picture, which you had been shown, a lot more than the image of her in your mind.

When the officers lead her past the door, she managed to get them to halt shortly.

“You’re a fucking fool, you ass-eating motherfucker,” she hollered, and spit directly into Lucas’ face.

“And you!” All of a sudden she turned to look at you, while the men continued dragging her towards their van, “Your fucking ex is the worst piece of shit on this fucking planet, and you deserve each other! I’ve never been more disgusted by a human being than by him, and that just because you are a fucking-“

The rest of her screams were muffled by the doors of the DEA’s van slamming shut, leaving all of you star struck. Looking down the street you could see Dallon and Ryan, who had witnessed the scene as well, and Lars and Bill were standing next to the bus.

“Well, that was ugly,” the officer, who was still standing by you, sighed, handing Lucas a tissue with which he wiped of the spit, “I guess you would like to know what happened.”

The officer was so nice to stay and explain why they had taken Lisa.

As it turned out, her real name was Kathrin Lewis. She had been arrested for the dealing and smuggling of drugs several times, but never been prosecuted, because of lack of evidence. But when the police who had confiscated the bus, had handed the case over to the DEA, the DEA’s laboratory had found tons and tons of Lisa’s fingerprints all over the drug packages, as well as on the inside of the plastic in the seats.

Later she confessed that it had also been her, who had helped in stealing the bus. She had stolen Lucas’ keys, copied them, slipped them back to Lucas, and handed the copies to the men who had helped her. These men had stolen the bus, and then later, together with her help, hidden the drugs. After that, the bus had gotten returned so they could smuggle the drugs from one state into the next.

Ryan and Dallon had probably only discovered the hiding place, because the fabric had not been sewn shut very probably and the seams had ripped when they had been play fighting.

After everyone had taken in the news, the officer ended with a good message though.

“The city police will drop of your colleague, who I believe has been wrongfully accused and arrested,” he told the team before he left.

And sure enough, five minutes later, Jay walked in. He looked tired, but he beamed with happiness when he saw his friends, and immediately the whole crew stormed over to him, wrapping him in hugs and pats on the shoulder. There was laughter and too many questions to understand a single one of them, but now he was back and this was how it was supposed to be. Slowly the world balanced itself again, and the only remaining problem was the situation with Ryan.

But that had to wait, since now the crew was missing someone for selling the merch. So while Jay, Luis and Charlie did a quick announcement that they would in fact play this last show on tour, you helped Lucas and Bill make signs that announced merch would only be sold before and after each band, which would be your job, so you could take pictures during the time they were playing.

And so the last concert of tour kicked off.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman angst #ryan seaman multi chapter story #multi chapter #multi chapter story #fanfiction #fanfic #his smile will keep you safe #angst

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Promt 13 with Ryan Seaman

Prompt 13: “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.”

Word count: 1 979 (i just got no self-control when it comes to Ryans)

“Which room you said?” You pressed the phone to you ear with the help of your shoulder, trying to understand Dallon on the other end. “The recording room? Okay, got it.”

Hanging up and shoving the phone into your pocket, you changed the hand in which you were carrying the heavy tool box. You were the person for everything around the recording studio, be it cooking coffee, repairing broken amps, or fixing loose chair legs. Just a couple of minutes ago Dallon had called you about a broke light bulb in the recording room, and now you wanted to fix it before going home for the night.

Through the window in the room with all the panels, you saw that the light in the recording room was still burning, and the sounds of a drum set were audible. Stepping closer to the window you recognized Ryan, who was playing around with a few beats, seemingly trying to fit them together somehow.

You hesitated for a moment. Over the past weeks you had grown increasingly fond of the drummer, and you had the feeling that this was not the best thing, considering he probably did not even know you existed. But on the other hand you were in and out of there in under three minutes, and then you could go home, so collecting your courage, you walked to the door, and pushed it open.

Ryan immediately stopped playing, and looked up at you.

“Hey,” you greeted awkwardly, but Ryan just smiled as friendly as always, “Dallon called me about the broken light bulb.”

You looked around the room and spotted the hole in the pattern of light sources that were spread all over the ceiling.

“Oh, yeah, thank you,” Ryan nodded, “do you need help?”

“Nah, I’m fine,” you told him.

Pulling the door closed behind you, you placed your toolkit on the floor, before you walked over to a chair which you pulled under the spot where the light was broken. Ryan watched you carefully.

“Shouldn’t we turn of the lights or something, so you don’t get electrocuted,” he asked concerned.

“It’s fine,” you told him, “they have these special switches in here, see,” you pointed to a small white dot next to the gap where the light bulbs were installed in the ceiling, “let’s me switch of each light on its own.”

You climbed onto the chair, and pressed the little button, before reaching to where you expected to find the broken bulb.

“Hm, that’s weird,” you mumbled and climbed off the chair again, getting a torch and a new light bulb from your tool box.

“What’s wrong,” Ryan inquired immediately, standing up, and walking over to you.

“There is no broken light bulb, there isn’t a bulb at all,” you explained, shining the light of the torch into the hole to be sure.

Then you took the torch between your teeth, and screwed in the new lamp, before pressing the small white button again, turning on the light.

“Some really funny person must’ve taken the bulb out without replacing it,” you shrugged, preparing to climb of the chair.

Ryan offered you his hand for support which you gladly, but nervously, took.

“That’s it,” he asked, sounding almost a little disappointed.

“Yeah, no rocket science,” you grinned, grabbed your box, and walked over to the door.

But when you pressed down the handle, it would not open. You tried it again, both pushing and pulling, even though you knew exactly that you had to push, but the door did not move.

“Forgot something,” Ryan asked, still standing under the newly shining lamp.

“The- the door is locked,” you told him, turning around in confusion.

“You have to push,” he laughed.

“I know, I tried that,” you turned back to the door, and tried it again, but to no avail.

“Here, let me, sometimes it’s a bit hard.”

You stepped aside, and watched as Ryan tried his luck, but failed as well.

“Yup, the door is locked,” he agreed.

“How did that happen,” you wondered, placing the toolkit down, “I didn’t lock it when I came in, I don’t even have keys.”

“Neither do I…”

So the door had been locked from the outside.

You walked over to the window to the control room, pressing your nose against the window and shielding the sides of your faces with your hands as to blend out the reflecting lights.

“There’s someone,” you exclaimed, and knocked against the glass, “hey, excuse me, could you unlock the door, please?”

Ryan stepped next to you, already trying copy your posture, but then the light on the other side turned on, revealing Dallon standing by the door.

“Not before the two of you have had a serious talk in there,” he declared, before he walked out of the door, and the lights on the other side turned off again.

“What-“ both Ryan and you stood there, mouths hanging open.

Ryan was the first one to move; after all he knew what this was about.

“I hate him,” he mumbled, walking back to his drum set, and sitting down.

“Great, I wanted to go home,” you whined, “Hey Dallon, I want to go home!”

You were fully aware that he could not hear you.

Throwing your arms up in the air you sat down on the chair you had used as a ladder.

“Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while,” you mumbled to yourself, and Ryan nodded.

For a few minutes you were sitting in silence, thinking about why Dallon might have locked you in here. Surely it was a stupid prank between him and Ryan, and you had just gotten in the way, right? But then you thought about what he had said about the two of you talking. Talking about what? You turned to look at Ryan, who swivelled around on his chair.

“Hey, you don’t happen to know what Dallon was on about when he said we should talk, do you,” you asked, hoping that maybe Ryan had a clue.

“No idea,” he shrugged but his voice was unusually high.

Questioningly you raised your eyebrows at him. When he caught your glance, his shoulder slumped.

“If I’m right, it’s about something I told him a while ago, but that doesn’t give you the right to lock us in here Dallon, do you hear me?”

The last part he spoke to the windows. But he was only greeted with silence.

“What did you tell him that made him lock you up,” you giggled, curious by now.

Ryan shrugged.

“Not important.”

You considered disagreeing, but if this was between Ryan and Dallon you had no right to know about it.

“How long do you think he’ll keep us here,” you wondered, getting up from your chair, and walking towards the window.

“As I know him, he could play the game the entire night,” Ryan mumbled.

You took a glance at your wrist watch. About eight hours until the first people were scheduled for recording. Unless one of you needed a bathroom, you should be about fine.

“Well, he sure is stubborn,” you sighed.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Ryan answered.

After you had walked around a little, you settled on the floor, your back leaning against the wall.

“Do you need to call anyone, let them know you’re gonna be late,” Ryan asked, when he saw you were fidgeting around with your mobile.

“Who would I need to call,” you asked back, making him shrug.

“Dunno, a boyfriend maybe, or girlfriend,” he suggested.

“Nah,” you shook your head, “got neither. You?”

“Nope,” Ryan answered, popping the p.

For a while there was silence. You had leant your head back against the wall, and studied the ceiling, not noticing that Ryan was studying you.

“I told him that I like you, and that I want to ask you out, but don’t know how.”

Ryan’s voice was quiet, but clear, and surprised you lifted your head, the words taking a moment to get processed in your mind.

“Really,” you wondered.

“Yeah, I’ve never known how to do these things, I’m not really good with words,” he admitted.

“No, I mean… you like me?”

Ryan looked up from the drum set which he had been staring at.

“Well, yes.”

The confession hung between the two of you for a moment, like a thin rope between the edges of two cliffs, but just when you were about to speak, he looked away.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Sorry for what,” you asked, still not sure you had understood correctly.

“Making it awkward. It’s obvious you’re not interested, but you’ll still have to work here while I’m around and-“

“Hey, hold your horses! I never said I’m not interested,” you protested, “and I never said I don’t like you either. And technically you haven’t even asked.”

Ryan looked back over to where you were sitting, furrowing his brows as if he was thinking really hard.

“So if I’d ask you out on a date with me, you’d-“

“I’d say yes,” you completed the sentence.

“And if I asked you if you like me…”

“I’d say I like you back.”

“Well, in that case,” a relieved smile flooded over his face, making the sad puppy eyes disappear, “What about a movie, and dinner afterwards? I know this really sweet Italian place.”

“Tomorrow, eight,” you suggested.

“I’ll pick you up from work?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled, making him nod in agreement.

“Now was that so hard?”

Without either of you noticing, Dallon had returned into the control room.

“You bastard,” Ryan jumped up from behind his drum kit.

“See, you got a date now, you should thank me for this,” Dallon laughed behind the window.

Quickly you scrambled to your feet.

“Yeah, yeah, great. We all got what we wanted. Can you let us out now,” you asked impatiently.

“First I want to see a kiss.”

Behind the glass Dallon crossed his arms in front of his chest, a triumphant smile on his face.

“Dallon!”

“Who cares Ryan, let’s kiss and go home, or he’s gonna keep is in here for eternity.”

Ryan had obviously not expected you to give into Dallon’s request so easily, judging by the expression on his face.

“You really don’t have to. I don’t want him to force you into anything you don’t want to do,” Ryan told you sincerely, but from the way he was looking at you it was obvious how much he wanted to kiss you.

“He’s not, don’t worry,” you told him, grabbing his collar, and pulling him in for a kiss.

Ryan did not hesitate for a moment to wrap you in his arms, pulling you into his chest.

“See, that was easy, well done,” Dallon commented, unlocking the door. “Now I’m happy.”

“You’re a dead man, Dallon,” Ryan growled, pulling away from the kiss, but you held onto his shirt, stopping him from storming out of the room, while Dallon escaped giggling into the corridor.

“Hey, calm down,” you laughed.

“Sorry,” Ryan shrugged, an embarrassed smile on his lips, “He’s just always so cocky.”

You nodded in agreement.

“Hey, how about we don’t wait until tomorrow with the dinner,” you suggested, while you grabbed your tool box, and stepped out of the room you had been trapped in, “the Egyptian place down the street should still be open.”

“Sounds perfect,” Ryan smiled, following you out into the corridor and turned off the lights behind him.

Side by side you walked down the hallway, and you dropped off the toolbox at the small kitchen, where it was stored, before Ryan led out outside into the night, hesitantly brushing his hand against yours. When your fingers immediately curled around his, he smiled happily and intertwined your hands with each other. Maybe he really would have to thank Dallon for this.

#ryan seaman x reader #ryan seaman x reader fluff #ryan seaman fluff #ryan seaman imagine #Ryan Seaman #fanfiction #fanfic #drabbles #drabble #drabbles challange

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

His Smile Will Keep You Safe - Chapter Ten

Word Count: 3 051

After the disastrous concert followed a total of four days without any shows or interviews, meaning there was loads of time for everyone to relax a little.

Dallon had taken the first flight in the morning, going home to see his family. While Lisa and you decided to accompany Bill and Lucas to the next destination, Baldwinsville, everybody else took off into different directions, visiting friends or family.

It was strange, being only four people on the bus, and you caught yourself thinking that you already missed Ryan, who took the free time to visit a distant relative, and a couple of friends in the area. But you pushed the thought aside as soon as you had climbed out of the bus in front of the new hotel.

Lisa and you were sharing a room again, as so many times before, and you decided to use the time to bond a little more. After all, you were the only two women on the crew, meaning you had to stick together, even though tour would soon be over.

The first days you spent wandering around the city, exploring whatever there was to see. You took long walks in little forests, and talked about anything that came to mind. Retrospectively you almost felt ashamed for having thought Lisa to be a little shallow sometimes, because the better you got to know her, the more she revealed of the complex personality she had. It fascinated you, listening to the stories she told you of her childhood, and you enjoyed discussing philosophical problems with her.

While she spent most of the time on your trips looking at things closely, you did the same through the lens of your camera. It was fun to try out photographing in nature again, which you had not done since college, and when Lisa randomly mentioned over dinner that she had worked as a model during high school, you had an amazing idea.

The next day was spent searching places all over town, in front of which you took pictures of the young girl. Of course these were not the usual “look everybody, I am a tourist”-photographs. Far more they were delicately chosen angles that allowed you to play with the natural light, the stream of the soft wind as well as fore- and background.

Lisa was wearing a flowing white dress with small pink flowers scattered all over the fabric, her long blonde hair effortlessly falling over her shoulders in gentle waves, and tiny freckles added an interesting factor. It had been years since you had taken portraits, but you found that you remembered surprisingly much from college. In the evening you got cheap fairy lights in a dollar store, and once the daylight had faded, you continued playing around with the camera back at the hotel.

One of your favourite shots of that day was Lisa, sitting on her bed, the windows in the background looking out over the city. She held the lights in the palm of her hand so that the small light sources themselves were invisible to the camera, but soft, orange light spread from her hands over her face, making her brown eyes glow warmly, and her delicate skin glimmer mysteriously.

After the extensive photo session, both of you decided to settle in a park close to the hotel the next day, where you edited the pictures together. Since without Lisa these pictures would not have been possible, you asked her for opinions concerning the colours and contrast for every picture, slowly but surely creating the perfect mixture between your two styles.

In the afternoon you walked over a small market of craftwork, where you bumped into Charlie, who was looking at some jewellery.

“Isn’t that Charlie over there,” Lisa asked excitedly, tucking your arm.

You turned to see who she was pointing at, but she had already started dragging you towards the man, who indeed turned out to be the bassist.

“Charlie, hey,” Lisa cheered, and Charlie grinned, giving both of you quick hugs.

“Hey guys, what are you doing out here,” he asked.

“Just looking around, and you,” you replied, your eyes scanning over the display of rings he was standing in front of.

“Oh! Are you buying a ring for your girlfriend,” Lisa asked excited, already eyeing the rings curiously as if she could find out what kind of girl he was dating by looking at the jewellery.

“No, I- I don’t have a girlfriend,” Charlie laughed.

Your eyes flickered over the display again, and suddenly you noticed the musician fidgeting around with his hands. Was he nervous? The rings he was standing in front of were not for women, but judging by the thickness and designs, made for men. Actually they reminded you more of Luis’s style than of Charlie’s. Was he embarrassed that you had caught him buying a ring for himself?

Whatever it was, he did not seem very comfortable in his own skin, so you decided to do him a favour and distract Lisa, who seemed not to have heard the last sentence since she was already gushing over a small ring with a rose crystal that she insisted would look very nice on his girlfriend, whoever she was.

In the end you caught Lisa’s attention by suggesting going for a coffee, and almost immediately she had forgotten Charlie’s inexistent girlfriend, and together the two of you went to search for the nearest café, leaving Charlie with a thankful smile, before he turned back to the display of rings.

~*~

While Lisa and you were still out Ryan and Dallon had arrived at the hotel almost at the same time. Lucas had accompanied them to their room, where they had discussed the details for the next two weeks. Lucas was just about to leave the room, when Ryan took the courage and decided he needed to ask for something which he had been thinking about for the past weeks, but especially these last four days.

“Hey, one more thing,” he stopped the tour manager from leaving, “I was wondering… what does the label think about (y/n)’s work?”

Both Lucas and Dallon turned to Ryan, surprised by his question. Lucas let go of the door handle he had already been holding, and gave Dallon a short look before answering.

“They’re very happy with her work, why do you ask?”

Ryan felt nervous, as he uttered the next words, but he knew that it was important, that he had to at least try, no matter what the others thought of him.

“I mean… I guess we all really get along with her, don’t we? And she takes the most incredible pictures, obviously, so I was thinking, maybe, if the label is okay, we could ask her to be- you know- our regular tour photographer, so she can always go on tour with us?”

He could feel his heart hammering in his chest but he did not care. Instead he looked over to Lucas carefully who had furrowed his eyebrows in a considering manner.

“I think it’s really funny that you suggest that,” he eventually spoke up, “It was supposed to be a surprise for you, and I wanted to ask her first, but the label already suggested the exact same thing.”

To say that Ryan’s chin dropped would have been a very accurate description of his reaction. He felt like a barrel of fireworks had erupted in his stomach, and he grinned widely.

“Did she say yes,” he asked immediately, having a hard time containing the excitement.

“I haven’t asked her yet, I’d like to wait with that until tour is over,” Lucas explained, “But if you like, why don’t you suggest it to her, after the last show?”

Ryan nodded happily, already starting to make up sentences with which he might be able to tell her the great news. Dallon had witnessed the exchange with a sly smile on his lips. Ryan really had fallen head over heels for the young photographer, and Dallon loved watching the two of you slowly but surely realising the romantic feelings you were harbouring for each other.

~*~

Buffalo was rather cool and rainy this time of year, but nobody in the crew seemed to care. It was about six pm, still two hours until the show would start, and you had settled down comfortably on one of the sofas in the changing room of the bands. Ryan was sitting closely next to you.

After having been apart for four days, it seemed your bond had only grown stronger, and almost nothing was able to separate you. He had flung his arm across the back rest, therefore almost wrapping it around your shoulders, and you were sitting turned towards him, gesticulating wildly as you told him about the time that the bus, which was supposed to get you and your class to a trip, had crashed only fifteen miles outside of Salt Lake City.

Ryan tried to listen to your story as good as possible but found himself distracted again and again by the way you smiled and talked with such enthusiasm. In the flickering light of the bare light bulb that dangled from the ceiling, your eyes glowed with passion, and he smiled, merely thinking about potentially getting to go on so many more tours with you.

Your passionate rant was interrupted by the door flying open. Lars came walking in the room, and shot the two of you a glance before he spoke.

“Lucas needs you, (y/n),” he declared.

The happy smile faded from your face, and your lips pulled into an apologetic one.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, and quickly got up, but not without gently running your fingers over Ryan’s shoulder before you left the room.

Ryan sight quietly. As soon as you were away from his side the world seemed boring and dull to him. Stretching his arms over his head, he leant back into the cushions of the sofa, and took a deep breath before letting his arms fall back to his side. Looking up, he found Lars was still standing in the room, staring at him.

“You know she’s only using you, right,” Lars asked, making Ryan furrow his brows.

“Who?”

“(y/n), obviously. She’s using you.”

A chuckle escaped Ryan’s lips, and he shook his head in amusement.

“Nah, I don’t think so mate. I’ve seen girls who tried to use me, she isn’t one of them.”

“Not to get famous or anything,” Lars disagreed, “She’s trying to make me jealous.”

Ryan’s smile slightly faltered, but he tried not to admit it.

“Come on, think about it, man,” Lars tried to explain, and walked a few steps closer, “We’ve been together before. It’s fate that we ended up on the same tour. And she still is into me, I can tell. She’s only spending time with you to make me jealous, to pretend like she moved on from me.”

“And you’re getting her hopes up,” Ryan challenged.

He did not want to believe the other man’s words, but something inside of him started clinging to the idea that he should have known everything was too good to be true.

“Of course I’ll take her back, don’t worry,” Lars chuckled, as if this was what Ryan wanted to hear, “But it was her who dumped me back then, and now I want her to suffer a little before I relief her of her struggles.”

Ryan just stared at Lars. He could not possibly be telling the truth, could he?

“Just think about it man,” Lars insisted, walking towards the door, “She’s not really into you, it’s just a game for her. She’s not the cute innocent girl you want her to be. She’s just fooling you.”

And with these words he walked out of the room, leaving Ryan spiralling down into a circle of worries.

Of course it made sense that you wanted to get back with Lars. He was attractive, tall, clever, and you two shared a past, a past and memories Ryan had not with you. Lars had a self-confidence about him, which probably made him even more attractive, a kind of indifference, that made it hard to tell if he cared about someone or not. And you probably loved to challenge that.

And even if you were not intending to get back together with Lars, how had Ryan even so stupid to believe for one moment that you could have some genuine interest in him?

He was not exceptional in any way. He had blue hair, great, so he was thirsting for attention. He played drums, always hiding behind his set, he had ordinary brown eyes, was neither very intelligent, nor funny, nor attractive, and to make everything even worse, he was a nerd who played in a band which’s name was the quote of one of his favourite geeky movies. Not childish at all. Oh, and he was completely obsessed with not only multiple different movies and tv-series, including the Back to the Future movies, but also with bands, like Green Day, and the Beatles. Not to mention that this was one cluster-fuck of a strange mix, it made him feel like a twelve year old boy again.

He almost felt ashamed for the things he liked, but only almost. He liked these things for a reason, and they had all been a big part of the person he had become. But the person he had become was not somebody that someone as perfect and funny, and talented, as you could ever fall in love with.

And knowing that he had honestly though that you had, that was what he felt ashamed about, so ashamed in fact, that he had to forcefully wipe away the tears of anger and disappointment, when Dallon entered the room a couple of minutes later, searching for his backpack.

~*~

It was around noon of the next day when you eventually noticed that Ryan behaved strangely around you. After packing up after the show the previous day, everyone had gone to bed quickly, and after a quick breakfast at the hotel, you had climbed on the bus without exchanging many pleasantries with anyone.

But during the drive to South Burlington, you found that Ryan avoided looking at you, not to mention that he had not even spoken a single word with you so far. Sitting on one of the benches by the table in the tiny kitchen, you watched him sitting on the sofa. He was staring into the distance, not paying any attention towards the game of cards that the others had started around him.

Concerned you noticed how tired he looked. Deep dark circles were under his eyes, his skin looked exceptionally pale, and the fragile rim of skin around his eyes was pink, as if his eyes were watering all the time.

He seemed to have noticed your inquisitive look, because he looked up but as soon as his eyes meet yours, he turned away, looking out of the window. Perhaps he had just had a bad night, was tired, and did not feel up to any socializing, you thought to yourself, so you decided not disturb him, in order for him to be able to relax.

But his behaviour had not changed the next day either. The past times he had often sat next to you, watching you editing countless pictures, but not today. You felt hurt, but told yourself that you could expect of nobody to sit and watch you work for hours on end.

But even during lunch break and before the show he avoided you. Things even went as far that he left the changing room every time as soon as you entered.

And that was when you really started to worry.

By now it was not just an accident anymore, or a coincidence. Not even the different excuses you had made up in your mind did stand any of his behaviour, and by the end of the day you had to admit to yourself, that Ryan was in fact going to great lengths to avoid you.

This obviously posed the question of the why. Had it been something you had said, or done? Had he felt like after the night in the hotel, cuddled together, that you were not what he wanted in his life after all? Had that night made him feel uncomfortable? But the days after, even after the short break, he had seemed absolutely fine; he had even sought out your company actively!

So what had happened since Sunday that had turned his behaviour around by 180 degrees? What confused you even further was that he made no move to try to clear things up with you. During the past weeks he had always seemed like he was a person who rather solved a problem, even if it was uncomfortable, then to leave it eating away at him, at everybody. Had you given off the impression that you were not open to an honest, even if criticizing, conversation?

All of these questions piled up in your head, which caused you to come to the obvious conclusion that if he refused to talk to you, you had to talk to him.

Which turned out to be a lot more difficult than it sounded. For two days straight he managed to always either slip away as soon as you seemed to have him cornered, or he found somebody to distract you with, some convenient “Lucas needs me”-s, and quickly started conversations with anybody else. Which taught you one thing for certain: he avoided talking to you at all cost, and there was nothing you could do against it.

So, with heavy, broken heart you decided to lay low for a while. If you stopped chasing him, maybe he would stop running, and eventually try to explain what the hell was going on.

Of course you had not the faintest idea that Lars, who was watching both of you very closely, was secretly having a blast. If he did not get to have you, then so should neither anybody else. And who knew, maybe your heartbreak would eventually drive you back into his arms.

But that somebody could be this malicious would not have occurred to you in your wildest dreams.

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