Portrait of a lady, possibly Isabella of Austria, Queen of Denmark (1501-1526), half-length, in a black dress with red velvet slashed sleeves and a diadem, her hands resting on an open illuminated book of hours on a marble ledge, with Saint Elisabeth of Hungary (c.1520). Flemish School. Oil on panel.
The saint’s hands differ from the smooth, idealised hands and face of the seated figure. The seated figure is evenly lit, while the flesh-tones of the saint shine with enhanced highlights, creating a more sculptural effect.
Alright folks well I’m back from HVFF Nashville and somehow I managed to get this weeks prompt done! So this week the amazing @thebookjumper gave us the “Comfort” prompt and I’ll admit I was wondering how that would work in the world I’d created but it looks like comfort works in any reality. So here it is my contribution to the @olicityhiatusficathon
She brushed her fingers over his temple softly as her sated body began to fall into the familiar rhythm of mindless sleep. His ear remained over her thudding heart while his palm remained splayed over her barely rounded stomach. “So are we finally in agreement?” Felicity asked hopefully before the exertions of the day threatened consume her weary mind.
Oliver’s thumb skirted over her belly button, his chin rubbed along the upper aspect of her left breast while his lips brushed along her tender nipple. Felicity’s body reacted as her stomach stirred but, she’d delayed this conversation for far too long…
Oliver’s nose tickled along her skin when his furrowed brow slipped along her upper chest. “Do you remember the night you had your first nightmare?”
Felicity’s fingertips tickled along his hairline gently. “Baby we really have to make this decision before she storms the damn castle and, you’re talking about bad dreams? “ she laughed ruefully.
Oliver’s lips curved along her areola. Felicity’s stomach slipped through a series of frantic motions as the space between her thighs grew wet. “I’m trying to explain my choice,” he replied as his palm slipped over her small bump.
Felicity growled, “And how does that wretched night explain your reasoning exactly?”
fRequest: Hank mccoy x reader where they both worked in the lab together before first class and are both mutants and reader secretly loves him but then Charles recruits them both and reader thinks they lost their chance to raven
A/N: YAY! Back to having wifi and updating more!!
You’d known Hank for forever, or at least what felt like forever, I mean when you work with someone practically everyday for two years, well, they become part of your life. You’d had time to memorize every detail about him, his small smiles, the way he fixed his glasses when he was nervous, how he bit his lip to keep from laughing at bad times, and the cute dorky wink he’d always give you when you discovered something new at the lab. He knew you well too. All your tell tale signs when you were mad, or down, he was there to pick you up and keep you laughing. Plus, you’d shared your biggest secret with him, about your mutation, and he’d shared his with you.
You’d been best friends for so long, but to you he’d always been more. I mean, when you were sick one day and couldn’t meet him at the lab to work, the minuet after he got off the clock he drove to your apartment and dropped off your favorite soup and even offered to stay and watch movies with you. You’d laughed and told him it way okay, he didn’t have to stay, because there was no need for you to both get sick. That was almost a step beyond friendship and even though the soup was way too salty to eat, he had made it for you himself, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach flutter at the thought of him caring for you so much. Over time you fell in love with his dorky grin, when he took your hands and spun you both around the lab at a breakthrough in the science you’d been working on, and the fact that he always laughed at your jokes even when they sucked because he was too nice not to. You’d fallen in love with him.
“I can’t believe we are doing this.” You turned your head to glance at Hank.
“I know!” He flashed a wide grin back causing you to smile.
“Believe it, you both will make an excellent addition to our team.” Charles Xavier turned to face you. About a week ago Hank and you had been at work like any other day when you’d received a call from the Professor complementing your work in science and inviting you to stay at the mansion and become part of his team. He of course knew about both of your abilities. Hank had been so excited about the call the moment he put down the phone he’d turned to you, who’d been leaning on his shoulder trying to listen into the conversation, and picked you up off the ground, spinning you in a hug. Of course, he set you down a moment later, blushing furiously, but the hug had left you smiling for what felt like days. “Welcome to the Mansion.” Charles gestured towards the two broad double doors, and you and Hank pushed you way inside.
“I can’t believe you came up with this that’s incredible.” You rolled your eyes without looking up from your book at the sound of Raven’s words.
“Y-ya it took a while, but I figured it out eventually.” Hank stumbled over his words. You were in the library again. Slouched in a large arm chair trying, and failing, to pay attention to the book you were holding. Hank was next to you on a couch, which Raven was now leaning across towards him, flipping through pages of his research. You’d been living at the mansion for some time now and you both had settled and the excitement of being recruited had dulled a bit, although the place was still surreal. Now however, you and Hank seemed more distant. You’d gone from spending every day together to meeting a few times a week to bounce ideas off each other. You’d both taken up individual projects and were swamped with work, but it didn’t help the ache in your chest that missed the jokes you used to share. This moment was meant to be one of your, now limited, meetings as well, but Raven had walked into the library occupying Hanks attention and your study time.
Don’t get me wrong, you loved the girl, she was a blast to hang out with, but more than that you missed Hank and you felt anything you might of had was lost. You let out a sigh and closed your book standing up and stretching your arms to the ceiling.
“I think I’m going to take a quick walk outside.” You said to Hank. He opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it. You stared at him a moment longer wishing he would ask you to stay even if it was only to go over the data he collected, but when he didn’t you felt your hopes fall a bit as you turned an left.
You made your way out the courtyard and took a seat of the marble ledge above the grounds swinging your feet over the edge. You elbows rested on your thighs and your chin sat on the heel of your palms. You couldn’t help but feel a little defeated. You closed your eyes enjoying the silence for a moment before a voice broke through it.
“(Y/N)?” You recognized the hesitant tone immediately and turned slowly to find Hank standing behind you, hands shoved in pockets.
“Hey partner.” You gave him a small closed mouth smile squinting against the sun.
“Hey.” He breathed out sitting next to you and facing the large grassy area as well.
“I-” You both spoke at the same time and then paused for a moment before laughing just like you used to.
“I’m sorry.” Hank finally said before you could speak.
“Me too.” You replied.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He dropped his gaze to his thumbs which he was tapping on the smooth stone. Nervous, you thought to yourself, you could still read him like a book. “I don’t know what happened, it was always just us and then so much stuff got in the way, I-I miss being with you…” He trailed off, but you knew he was genuinely sorry and you felt your chest lighten a little.
“I miss it too.” You smiled at him, blush warming your face.
“From now on I’m gonna try harder for-for us.” You laughed at the way he knit his brows in determination, but mostly you smiled at the fact that he said us. Maybe after all of this time of you falling for him, he’d begun to fall for you.
So after some encouragement from @wherethereissmoak and @tdgal1 I’ve chosen to take the weekly Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-thon prompts and, use them to continue this fic. It should be fun challenge so thanks again to @thebookjumper for organizing this weekly event!
So here’s my entry for this week’s prompt Out of place!
“I can’t believe you sold me like a common whore,” Felicity roared as the doors behind her slammed darkly.
Her mother’s ice cold eyes sneered at her daughter’s chosen defiance. She crossed the room and, reached for the only book Felicity had ever bothered to read more than once from cover to cover. The aged leather binding cracked beneath her mother’s skillful hands. “We have a job to do or have you forgotten the vow you took when you turned eighteen?” her mother warned almost somberly as she threw the book towards the center of the oval shaped room. The red and, black curtains whipped about the walls while the elder witch used the still air of the stale room to create a funnel at the base of the dome shaped ceiling.
Felicity watched unimpressed while her mother swept her hands wildly until the funnel cloud began to take it’s cylindrical shape. The book remained frozen at the center of the cyclone hovering innocently while a foolish woman used her gifts to throw a tantrum.
“If you think I’m going to be scared into agreeing you’ve forgotten I’m next in line,” Felicity snarled as her own fingers flew towards the raging storm.
Her mother’s eyes darkened, “Yes next…” she growled before she forced the invented storm to rage outwards towards her daughter’s waiting form.
Felicity blocked the deadly lightning strike with a flick of her beautiful blue eyes. Donna’s lips fell in shock when Felicity then raised her outstretched palms and cried darkly towards the turbulence above their hands, “ENOUGH!” The roaring thunder and drizzling rain vanished. The dark hardwood boards of the ceiling returned to view as the elder blonde stood before her daughter flummoxed.
“How?” she mouthed a bit proudly.
Felicity tilted her head towards her outstretched hand, the hovering book flew towards her waiting fingers. Her satisfied smile grew when she innocently replied, “Some books I didn’t need to read more than once…”
Donna’s frozen eyes began beaming with un-caged pride. “You do understand what we have to gain don’t you? You’ll be apart of history if I succeed.”
Felicity shrugged while she calmly flipped through the aged pages of a book that had been around since the first union between a vampire and, a witch was ever used as a tactic to protect human life. “You and I are the last of the original bloodline mother. We’re the only ones who remember the original pact that the Queen’s made when they first ventured towards our sleepy little hamlet. I’m also the only one that knows you’ve secretly been killing off the other clans for hundreds of years.”
“I don’t mind, by the way,” Emily says loudly, dangling her feet off the marble ledge where she sits. She doesn’t look at the Outsider who walks slow circles somewhere behind her. Can’t bring her gaze to meet his endless eyes. They terrify her and she thinks her father is a truly brave man to be able to face the Outsider so many a time with ease. At least, she guesses it from the way he told her the little bits and pieces of his visits to the void that were full of admiration, awe and wonder rather than terror at what he saw.
She grits her teeth. He wants to make her say it and it is infuriating. But for her father, she does.
“This thing that goes on between you. I don’t mind.”
He is suddenly sitting on the same marble ledge, a pose so dangerous he looks like he might fall.
“Why thank you, your Majesty. It is for the first time in my existence that I get a permission from a royal figure to pursue a… relationship. Granted, with their father.”
Emily rolls eyes and wonders again what her father sees in this creature. Insufferable, complex, infuriatingly vague. But also helpful, devoted and reliable in his own way. The balance of these features angers Emily because she doesn’t understand.
But she doesn’t need to. She turns around to look at the void version of her father’s stone-imprisoned statue. She looks at his face, frozen in time as he tried to stop the coup. Another coup.
She remembers his eyes when he admitted to using magic. When she found a bonecharm under his pillow and a rune stuffed between the books. He told her about the endless limitless of the Void and of the god who inhabited it. She believed him with her childhood naivety, for she too saw all this in her dreams when the Outsider visited her young mind.
But as she grew up, learnt and matured, she saw something else. The way Corvo looked at his marked hand when he thought no one could see him. The gleam in his eyes when she brought him a rune from her trip to the ocean side. The confused face when he came to breakfast looking like he hadn’t slept in ages, an odd smile painted on his lips.
And now she could see another reflection of it on the Outsider. The longing looks he throws at the statue and the unprecedented gentleness in a fond touch as his fingers hover over Corvo’s stretched out hands. All the remarks he makes of her father’s bravery and choice making.
She gives the Outsider one of his own smug smiles.
“This will do you some good. Already growing soft here, all your attention on me. And sitting by his statue for hours, whatever hours may be in this place… Pining.”
She smiles widely with pleasure and the Outsider shakes his head, then fades off the ledge to reappear by Corvo’s side. Tilts his head as he looks at the stone impression of the man.
Emily slides off the edge and comes up to her father to place a hand in his.
“I’ll make this right no matter what. And, perhaps, not only for him or the Empire or myself.”
The Outsider doesn’t look at her, his gaze trained firmly on Corvo, head tilted still. He brings up a hand to cup his face. Emily’s mouth corners twitch a little in a smile, more because it’s so odd to see it rather than find it amusing.
“Reality may be waiting, my lady, but it does not mean you have to keep it so.”
With a small wave of a free hand he sends her back in her dreams, from where life picks up and the Empress goes back to finding her way up Karnaca. And where time is still and the eternal wind blows, stands her father and the god, waiting for the resolution until they can meet again.
Author’s Note: Okay, so this was requested by “Jane”and she didn’t leave a tumblr account soooo… Enjoy! This fic was based off of Smoke and Fire by Sabrina Carpenter. I SUGGEST YOU LISTEN TO THE SONG AS YOU READ.
Smoke and Fire ; Edmund Pevensie x Reader Setting : Golden Age ****Requested: Yes Inspired by: Smoke and Fire - Sabrina Carpenter
Our love is running into a burning building.
“Edmund!” Y/N cried happily as she walked over to Edmund, who was making his way to the stables. “Hey, love.” Edmund smiled lightly. “Where are you off to?” “Oh, somewhere.” Edmund shrugged, throwing open the door to the stables and getting the supplies for Phillip. “Can I come with?” Y/N asked, tilting her head to the side. “I’d rather you not, Y/N.” Y/N stopped, confused. “Okay, can I get a kiss then?” Edmund sighed, rolling his eyes and walked back to the girl. He grabbed her face and pressed his lips on hers. Before she can kiss back, Edmund pulled away with a raised eyebrow. “Can I go now?” Y/N blinked and nodded slowly. Edmund gave a single nod before jogging over to Phillip. Y/N had no choice but to go back to the castle.
A Still Life of Roses, Poppies, Lillies and Other Flowers in a Glass Vase on a Marble Shelf; Beneath a Partly Peeled Orange and Fraises De Bois in a Wan Li Porcelain Dish, both on a Projecting Marble Ledge, Cornelis Jansz. de Heem
Rating: I don’t really know. It’s not smut, but it’s not completely innocent.
A/N: This was based off of a prompt I saw by @bluejinx-17 . I know it’s not exactly like the prompt, but I tried. This is also my first Brohm fanfiction, and I’m sort of new to this ship, so please forgive me if the guys are a little OOC. So yeah, anyways, here’s the story. :/
Ryan watched the man across from him, following as his tongue traced the envelope slowly, not sparing the older man a glance.
He watched the blonde close the envelope, throwing it across the table carelessly. The younger male licked his lips, his own eyes traveling to the face of the person in front of him.
Ryan raised a brow, watching the small smile spread on Bryce’s face. He picked up the envelope, switching between looking at it and Bryce.
Bryce shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable as he watched Ryan stare. He spoke, his voice playful with a hint of mischief.
“Did you like watching me lick that envelope?”
Ryan paused, a small smile now gracing his own features. He put the letter down, resting his elbows on the table casually.
He stared into Bryce’s ice blue eyes, searching them for emotion. He could see a bit of a mischievous glint in said orbs, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why.
“I could use my tongue for more productive things, don’t you think?”
Ryan’s eyes widened at the question, and he felt the familiar feeling of a blush creeping onto his cheeks. He didn’t blush often, the blonde knew that.
Bryce leaned forward in his chair, coming dangerously close to touching the other male. He smiled lightly, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he did so.
He waited for an answer, surprised that Ryan hadn’t stopped his words yet. Bryce wasn’t known for initiating things, but when he did, it was usually agonizingly slow.
Ryan swallowed harshly, regaining his composure and leaning back a bit, carving some space between Bryce’s mouth and his face.
He was going to try to keep things from going to Bryce’s favor, which meant that he had to say something-anything.
“You could. Like eating a Popsicle, or just eating in general, maybe even-”
“Maybe even on you?”
Ryan felt the blush deepen at this. Bryce was fully aware of what his tongue could do to him, and Ryan wasn’t one to submit.
Ryan liked being on top, being the giver. When things switched, it was usually because he wanted them to. He didn’t like not being in control.
The younger blonde kept his eyes on the hazel ones across from him. He was usually an angel-that’s how Ryan liked to describe him-but sometimes he liked being a little sinful.
Ryan looked down for a moment. “Don’t even think about it.”
Bryce chuckled lightly, shrugging and leaning back in his chair, playing with the table cloth. His voice was innocent, but Ryan could see behind that little facade of his.
“I’ve already had some thoughts.” Bryce’s words were smooth and lethal, that innocence gone by the end of the sentence.
Ryan sat there for a few moments, he didn’t know what to say to his boyfriend. He bit the inside of his lip as he thought, sighing when he couldn’t find a response.
The hazel-eyed man removed himself from his chair, going towards the fridge, deciding on ignoring Bryce and his suggestive words.
He opened the refrigerator door and sighed once he looked inside, the contents displeasing. There were mostly just leftovers. He wasn’t in the mood for that.
He should really make a note to go shopping, this place needed some fresh veggies. Or fruits. Just fresh anything, really.
Not for him to use, of course. Ryan wasn’t much of a chef. His specialty was bringing home fast food. That’s why he usually let Bryce do all the cooking, because Bryce liked making things. And he was good at it, too.
Said blonde also liked when he could get Ryan to submit to him, which was another thing Ryan had learned the younger man was good at on occasion.
It was something that rarely happened, mostly because, again, Ryan liked being in control, and Bryce usually liked being on the receiving end of things.
But every once in a while, Bryce liked to take control of things. And when he did, it was rather……interesting, to say the least.
At first, it had been an accident.
They had been on the couch, Bryce in his lap, Ryan’s hands wandering aimlessly over his body, eliciting numerous sounds from the taller male, trying to take things to the next level.
Bryce had leaned into him, practically panting, his tongue brushing against Ryan’s neck somewhat gently, but definitely noticeably. And things had turned from there.
Ryan had jolted forward, letting out a half moan, half gasp as he did so. Bryce had pulled away, raising a brow at him while smiling as he realized what he had just discovered.
With his newfound discovery and a need to find out more, Bryce had begun his quest for making Ryan submit.
The rest of the night had consisted of Ryan being on the receiving end, and soft pleas for more.
Ryan huffed under his breath, closing the fridge door and sighing against it as he relived the memory. It was one he pondered over often, not for any good reason. He just liked going over it.
Sometimes it hurt his pride. He wasn’t know for having very many weak spots, and for Bryce, small, angelic Bryce, to use the one he had to his advantage, well, that spoke for itself.
Sometimes, he felt the need to remind Bryce who the dominant one was, not wanting him to get used to being the ring leader.
And now was one of those times.
He glanced back at Bryce, who was now scribbling on a piece of paper, seemingly forgetting about his thoughts. His hand moves across the sheet of paper quickly, his writing messy but legible.
Ryan smiled, walking over to him and placing his hands on the back of Bryce’s chair, lustful thoughts invading his mind as he came closer to the blonde.
He tried to keep himself from grinning as he tightened his grip on the chair, leaning down so that his mouth was inches from Bryce’s ear.
Bryce’s hand stilled as Ryan nibbled on his earlobe teasingly, his breath surprisingly even. He dropped the pen onto the table and turned slightly, making Ryan remove his mouth.
Ryan smiled against his face, his voice soft, but laced with lust as he spoke.
“Remember Brycey, I’m the one who starts things. I’m the one on top.”
Ryan chuckled in the younger one’s ear, his hands now at his side and his body straight as he stood up, waiting for some type of response from Bryce.
Bryce found himself standing, looking down at Ryan, who was smiling with his eyebrow raised.
He didn’t bother pushing his chair in as he grinned, taking a step towards Ryan.
The older male’s confidence drooped a bit as Bryce’s grin widened, if that was even possible.
Bryce stuck his tongue out, waggling his blonde eyebrows at Ryan, and Ryan’s smile faded away as Bryce moved closer. This was not the response he had wanted. Not at all.
He found himself backing up, but landing against the counter, his back making contact with the cold marble. He grasped the ledge of the counter loosely, realizing what was happening.
He watched helplessly as Bryce let his tongue stop inches before Ryan’s lips, pulling it back into his mouth as Ryan spoke.
“Bryce…..” He said warningly, weakly, his hands moving to lay flat against the younger man’s chest. Bryce leaned forward, his breath ghosting over Ryan’s ear.
Ryan felt a shiver crawl up his spine as Bryce’s words made their way to his brain.
“Remember, Ohm, what I can do to you with just my tongue.”
With that, Bryce placed his lips on Ryan’s, wrapping his arms around the older male’s waist and pulling him closer.
Ryan’s eyes widened momentarily before fluttering closed, unable to comprehend anything properly with Bryce’s lips pulling sounds from him.
Bryce let his tongue trace Ryan’s lips, asking for entrance. When Ryan moaned in pleasure, Bryce took it as a sign to proceed.
His tongue glided across the top of Ryan’s mouth, earning him another moan. He could tell Ryan was trying to hold back. The older man was keeping his hands on Bryce’s chest and his body was somewhat tense.
Bryce pulled his mouth off of Ryan’s, his tongue tracing Ryan’s jaw ruthlessly, slowly making its way down to his neck.
The older male felt his knees give out at the sudden contact of Bryce’s tongue on his skin, and the blonde held him up, not waiting for Ryan to regain his balance.
“Bryce.” Ryan’s voice was hoarse and filled with lust as his knees began to work properly, his eyes cloudy with pleasure from just the simple touch that Bryce was supplying him with.
Bryce ignored him, spinning them around, moving Ryan backwards until his legs collapsed and he landed in the chair, his hands gripping the bottom tightly.
Bryce stood above him, Ryan’s legs in between his own. He let one hand wander up his partner’s chest as he sat himself down in Ryan’s lap, stopping at his shoulder. He latched his lips onto Ryan’s skin once more, taking his sweet time going down his jaw, eliciting glorious sounds from Ryan.
And he wanted more.
He stopped to work his way up to Ryan’s mouth, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and tugging lightly.
Ryan squeezed his eyes shut, his breaths coming out short, the little sounds in them sending a shiver through Bryce’s body.
The blonde moved down to his neck, his tongue just barely touching the skin. He paused at his Adam’s Apple, circling his tongue around the area slowly, feeling Ryan’s heartbeat quicken.
At this point, it was clear Ryan had given in. His hands were gripping the back of Bryce’s shirt tightly, his body practically melting into the younger one’s.
“Jesus, Bryce.” He moaned out as Bryce’s lips nipped at his skin, the blonde’s free hand on the back of Ryan’s neck.
Bryce felt the vibrations of Ryan’s voice on his throat, and he found himself moving down, attaching his lips onto Ryan’s collarbone, his tongue gliding back and forth on the soft skin as he sucked gently at the area.
Ryan’s back arched at this, his hands finding their way into Bryce’s golden locks, burying his fingers deep within them, pulling slightly, trying to gain some type of leverage.
He ground his hips into the taller male’s own, sending a wave of pleasure through Bryce’s body as he did so.
His hands moved back down to the younger’s back, digging into skin,(not that Bryce cared) no doubt leaving red marks on his back.
He was struck with a wave of pleasure as Bryce’s hand brushed up against the inside of his thigh, his voice rough in Ryan’s ear.
Ryan didn’t answer for a second, basking in the glory that was Bryce’s touch. With half lidded eyes, he looked to Bryce, his grip loosening a bit.
This was not the angelic Bryce everyone had seen so often. No, this was the confident, demanding Bryce that only Ryan had been allowed to see.
He was disappointed when Bryce pulled away, the smile on the blonde’s face enough to do him in. He pouted for a second or two before Bryce’s voice interrupted him.
“Do you want more?”
The question sunk into Ryan’s mind, it’s four words somewhat angering him.
How dare he ask such a stupid question, when it was obvious that Ryan was absolutely aching for more.
Ryan growled, reaching his hand up to grab the younger man, but Bryce caught it, interlacing his fingers with his own and leaning down to look Ryan in the eyes.
He stayed there, his fingers tapping against Ryan’s hand, the look in his eye affecting Ryan greatly.
“Do you,” Bryce paused for effect, brushing his lips against Ryan’s own, “want more?”
Ryan swallowed harshly, all pride out the window when Bryce ran his free hand up his leg, looking at him with that angel smile of his.
His response was breathy and sharp, unable to hold back his need for more. Unable to stop himself from giving in.
“Do whatever you want.”
Bryce didn’t need a second invitation.
He sat himself down on Ryan’s thighs, running one hand up his arm, the other busy caressing his hip through Ryan’s clothing.
Ryan practically whimpered, waiting for Bryce to kiss him. Instead, Bryce tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it off Ryan without much thought.
Bryce let his fingers roam up Ryan’s bare chest, stopping at his heart. He felt for Ryan’s heartbeat, noticing that is was still beating fast.
He leaned down, letting his tongue trail up the male’s chest, nipping at the skin and leaving bruises and red marks.
Ryan gripped Bryce’s hair, letting him do what he pleased, not caring as long as he could keep feeling this pleasure.
Bryce smiled against the skin, his tongue now marking Ryan’s shoulder, Leaving a small yet noticeable bruise as he sucked.
A low noise made its way out of Ryan’s throat, and Bryce chuckled, his lips warm against the side of Ryan’s neck.
Ryan tightened his grip in Bryce’s hair as he trailed his tongue back down his chest, stopping at his rib cage and teasing him relentlessly.
He gasped and exhaled sharply when Bryce’s hand lingered over the waistband of his pants, his fingers dipping beneath the fabric for a moment, before removing them, letting his hand rest against Ryan’s hip.
He went to pull Bryce up for more kissing, but was stopped when he heard the familiar flash of a phone camera, and the giggle of a certain blue sweater wearing man.
Ryan jumped slightly, but then calmed his nerves as he realized who it was, his eyes rolling as he mumbled something under his breath. He stayed where he was, deciding not to move or change their positions at all.
Bryce stood above him, straddling his lap, looking a bit flustered and embarrassed. He swallowed harshly, all remnants of confidence gone.
Ryan just looked extremely annoyed. And he was. Annoyed that his friend had interrupted him during something so blissful.
The intruder’s voice cut through the air, his teasing tone obvious.
“I thought you said you weren’t a bottom boy, Ryan?” Jonathan laughed ridiculously loud, wiping a tear from one of his eyes as he did so.
Ryan rolled his eyes, his hands on Bryce’s hips as he spoke.
“It’s a one time thing, Jonathan.”
Jonathan chuckled, smirking mischievously at the two of them as he waved his phone at them, pointing to a picture on it.
“This isn’t the first time, Ryan.”
It was a picture of Ryan and Bryce, Ryan beneath Bryce on the living room floor, Bryce straddling his hips and smiling down at him, his fingers splayed out across his chest.
Ryan blushed profusely, and Bryce didn’t dare glance at the picture Jonathan was holding up.
Bryce tried to pull himself away from his partner, but Ryan held on tight, glancing up at him before looking back to the man standing in the doorway.
“How the hell did you get that?”
Jonathan chuckled, putting his phone away and leaning against the door frame casually.
“I came to visit a couple weeks ago and there you two were.”
Ryan let his head fall back slightly, looking up at the ceiling while he spoke.
“Why did you take the picture?”
Bryce had a hand over his face, trying to mask his embarrassment, not able to look at Jonathan.
Jonathan opened up the fridge, grimacing at the stuff inside before he responded, his tone light.
“I thought it would be good blackmail.” He looked at the calendar hanging on the fridge, his eyes scanning the thing. “And I wanted to show Luke.”
Ryan groaned, finally releasing Bryce from his grip to pinch the bridge of his nose, to keep from lashing out.
Bryce took a seat at the table, looking at the floor as Ryan spoke.
“You’re an asshole, Jonathan.”
Jonathan laughed again, looking down at Bryce, then to Ryan, who was staring him down.
“So, Bryce, how does it feel to dominate the Ohmwrecker?”
He kept his gaze on Ryan, biting his lip to stop himself from bursting out laughing.
Bryce sighed, glancing at Jonathan, then swallowing harshly and leaning back in his chair.
“Shut up, Jonathan.”
Jonathan shrugged, resting his hand against the counter top and looking out the window.
“I’m just askin’.”
Bryce felt a bit of anger bubble up inside of him as the blue clad man chuckled at him. He really was an asshole, and he deserved to get his ass kicked.
Bryce’s face lit up momentarily as he thought about something from a few weeks ago, a small smile making its way on his face.
“How did it feel to be dominated by Vanoss?” Bryce bit out, surprised by his harsh tone. Next to him, Ryan was holding in a laugh as he took in Jonathan’s expression.
It was one of shock, and then embarrassment. He stuttered for a minute before narrowing his eyes at the two.
Ryan cocked his head, looking over at Bryce as the blonde spoke again, his voice smug.
“That’s right, we know about that. Evan’s not very good at keeping secrets.”
Jonathan flipped them off before turning his back to them, his voice tinted with embarrassment.
“You guys suck.”
“We heard you swallow.”
Ryan burst into laughter at his boyfriend’s comeback, nearly falling out of his chair.
Jonathan huffed, crossing his arms over his chest before going towards the door, standing in the doorway while he spoke.
“Whatever, dickheads. Im gonna go. This is a picture Luke will definitely wanna see.”
With that, he left the building, closing the door behind him and leaving Ryan holding his stomach and Bryce beaming with pride.
They sat there for a few minutes before Bryce spoke up, back to his normal, sunshine self.
“Do you think he’s really gonna show that picture to Luke?”
Ryan nodded, exhaling slowly to regain his composure.
“No doubt,” Ryan smiled at Bryce, his eyes gleaming with laughter and surprise, “That was a good comeback, Brycey.”
Bryce shrugged, but his smile was obvious as he stood up and planted himself in front of Ryan, his hands resting on Ryan’s shoulders.
“I don’t really care if he does or not, and thanks, Ohmie.” He giggled a bit at the nickname, his eyes locking with Ryan’s, “I couldn’t let him get away with what he said.”
Ryan nodded again, his own hands making their way to Bryce’s hips once more, his smile contagious.
“I couldn’t care less if he does.”
Bryce bit his lip, setting himself back down on Ryan’s lap and pressing his lips against the brunette’s jaw.
He paused for a moment, his smile widening a bit as he spoke.
“But, to answer his question, it feels pretty damn good to dominate the Ohmwrecker.”
Ryan couldn’t help but smile at this, his hands tightening a bit on Bryce’s waist, his nails digging into the skin softly.
“I bet it does.”
Bryce nodded, deciding to hurry things along, tired of talking about Jonathan.
“Anyways, we have better things to care about, don’t you think so?”
He let his lips trail down to Ryan’s neck, his tongue tracing circles on the area.
Ryan licked his lips slightly, letting his head fall back to allow Bryce better access to his skin.
Bryce smiled against his neck, his hands in Ryan’s hair, tugging slightly to keep his attention. Although, he was sure his attention wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
so i finally finished this, i’m so sorry for the wait and i’m super excited for you to read it! hello, @ackermanss it’s your hq!! secret santa and i’m so happy that you were my recipient and i wish you all the best with this upcoming year, and it was an absolute pleasure to chat with you, you lovely person :D
i wrote this small iwaoi one-shot for you, and i hope that you enjoy it as much as i had fun writing it (even if it’s not as festive as i would have loved it to be ;_;) have a wonderful, wonderful end of december, and good luck with everything! :D
“What a beautiful night.”
Iwaizumi looked to his right. He was met with a pair of eyes as brown as the hair that came with it, and they sharpened when they noticed him staring. He looked away before they cut him.
He stayed silent, letting the cool breeze ruffle through his short hair.
“Tired of the festivities?” The voice came again.
He tapped a finger against the marble ledge. “This is a private balcony.”
The man laughed, and Iwaizumi couldn’t help but steal a quick glance out of the corner of his vision. The soft curls bounced on his crown, and they seemed to be incensed by that crystalline laugh. He was relieved those eyes were closed while he chortled.
“I’ll be sure to tell anyone who tries to come in,” the man smiled.
Iwaizumi supposed it was his own fault, that he had dismissed the guards outside his room. There was a small moment of concern that pricked him for a second- the realization that this man could have accessed anything in his private office without obstruction. Maybe he’d go back inside just to find several official documents swiped off his desk.
The man moved closer, and Iwaizumi let out a soft breath when he felt the gaze on him intensify.
“It’ll be harder to leave undetected than it was to come in,” he spoke plainly.
The man waved a hand airily. “Who says I’ll be leaving?”
AUTHORS NOTE: This is old draft I had but really only intended it to be for my personal writing. It’s a mix of smut and fluff plus the added bonus of clown baby! XD. I also added a picture to help you visualize the location I’m talking about. Anyway, I hope it’s alright ^.^
Based on this prompt: “Roland refuses to get out of the bathtub.” Enchanted Forest, missing year. Heavy on the dimples. Also here on ffn.
Even in its recent state of disuse, the castle is not wanting for much. The pantries are stockpiled with enough food to feed fifty for five winters straight—colossal bread pyramids, spreads of dried meats and fruit, a variety of cheeses, wines and mulled ciders crammed in from cellar to ceiling. The linens are bountiful, and the number of beds with which to adorn them enough to accommodate ten times the size of their party.
Still, most of the four-poster canopies with their elaborate, hand-carved mahogany frames go unused, too soft and supple for backs accustomed to sleeping on solid ground. Something Regina had discovered the hard way one evening, when she’d tripped over someone’s ankle and nearly broken her own; the man who smelled like forest had elected to doze off on the floor of the armory, directly in the path that her sleepless nighttime wanderings had taken her.
(She usually spends these walks in solitude, thinking of Henry, always thinking of Henry; that night, she’d thought instead of all the thousand and three ways to live up to the evil in her name and make the man’s life a living hell, as she’d hobbled back to her bedchambers. Never minding how immensely apologetic he’d been, the sorry excuse he’d given for having gotten back late from washing up and not wishing to wake his son. Regina hoped the boy at least had the good sense of sleeping in his bed, rather than at the foot of it.)