#index card challenge

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Chapters: 2/2 Summary: Bucky finds peace in Wakanda, however a goat that reminds him too much of Steve Rodgers gets the name, Punk. Even when Punk gets a shield...It is not how Bucky expected things to go...

Index Card Challenge - The cards have spoken! My good friend, Melodylnoelle and I created a writing challenge with index cards to post weekly. The minimum word count is 500. For this particular fic the cards chosen are: Everything dealer’s choice (Week 12)

Below the cut is where you can read this while staying on Tumblr. Above is the information and warnings you need as well as the link to Ao3.

Bucky had mentioned the funny idea of giving Punk a shield for his head and she thought it would be entertaining as well. Bucky had watched Punk run around cheerfully with the shield attached to his head. He tried to ram into a post of few, and Bucky did not see any issues with Punk being affected. His hope was that the little goat would not suffer anymore head injuries apparently came true. 

Bucky closed and locked the fence and decided to take a quick nap. Everything would be fine.

Bucky woke well rested, like the stress and worry for Punk had gone away. He stretched his muscles and then went out of his hut to see all of the goats gone… His heart plummeted when he saw a hole in the fence.

He went in search for the goats, if Punk was free the first place he should look is where the rhinos were. The little troublemaker was always trying to start fights with the biggest things he could find, just like Steve.

On his journey for Punk he found a few goats who followed him when he called for them. Like he told Ayo, the others listen.

He did not find any goats by the rhinos, that was a relief. He looked in the surrounding areas. Found a few more goats…

Then he noticed T’Challa, Shuri, Ayo, and Okoye… Shuri holding the custom shield, Punk being guided on a lead by Ayo. The little goat trying his best to get away.

T’Challa was the one to speak… Saying that the idea was entertaining when he first heard what they did to Punk… However, no one was prepared for the amount of chaos that Punk would create with the protection given to him. Bucky listened about what Punk had done.

He fought with the rhinos, thankfully Okoye was able to get Punk away, then Ayo found him trying to ram into everything and everyone. Thankfully no one was hurt terribly. T’Challa explained that many will have bruises on the lower half of their bodies. Many complaints have been made about the troublesome goat. 

The shield protected Punk’s head but only made him more brave. Trying to fight off the four infront of him. Shuri made sure to pick fun at T’Challa that he got hit in the shin but his injury is what helped them restrain the goat and remove the shield.

Cautiously, Bucky asked, “what needs to be done?”

T’Challa held his hand towards Shuri, who gave him the shield. “No more weapons for this goat. There will be a better fence put in with Punk’s ability to escape in mind.”

Okoye spoke. “I feel as if this goat is smarter than we think he is.”

Bucky rubbed his face. “I think you are right, Okoye.”

Shuri handed Bucky the lead to which Punk tried to escape during the exchange. Bucky kept a grip on the lead as Punk backed up close to him then tried darting off, only effectively causing himself to fall back a little.

Bucky sighed as he watched the goat huff and flop down on the grass and make himself comfortable.

Bucky looked at the others, “thank you for bringing him back.”

T’Challa spoke hopefully, “For everyone’s sake… Hopefully Punk will never get loose again.”

Bucky hoped for that more than anything in the world…

--

If you like this, want to continue and/or want to read my other works, here is my masterlist! Also the Cards Have Spoken masterlist!

[brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0]

😭 I love this so much! It's so cute and I wish these two would go get in the shower together 😂 admit your feelings damn it.

A Complicated Matter

The Cards Have Spoken - Week 3 (@brightsun-and-darkmidnight ’s cards)

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: Thor and  fem!reader Category: Fluff - Falling asleep on the other Relationship: Mutual pining AU: Werewolf Warnings/Notes: just one little suggestive note / For these, we are setting it to a minimum of 500 words. You can use these same cards for your own story if you like, but please tag me and @brightsun-and-darkmidnight so that we can see what you do! This was a different one for me, for sure. Please enjoy Words:  1803 Summary: Thor falls asleep on you while watching TV

Keep reading

[mozaicstudio]

ICAD 2024, Day 15!

Abstract with watercolors and ink.

[booniehatman]

Day 4

I redesigned Smile! I gave it a proper suit and a tie to top it off! It's mostly still just eyes and a mouth, though.

[kentnaturaltribrid]

Theme: Orange 🍊

Day: 10

“Do not the bright June roses blow to meet thy kiss at morning hours.”

[ninangamearts]

ICAD starts in 3 days…I’m hoping I’m able to make it past the first week. 😂 Got some new art supplies to kick off the challenge.

[emmyrosee]

ONG OMG OMG CLOTHES SHOPPING WITH SAMU AND SHOWING HIM ALL UR OUTFITS WHILE HE SISTS AND COMPLIMENTS U AND AHHHHH 😍

“Okay. That one’s my favorite.”

You roll your eyes and snicker as his eyes glaze up and down your body, a smile on his face while he soaks you all in. “They’ve all been your favorite, baby,” you remind him.

“I can’t help that you look good in everything,” he scoffs, leaning his elbows on his knees. "What, are you saying I shouldn't be grateful for dating a goddess? You're out of your mind."

Your cheeks are blazed from his words and your mind swirls, how he’s so sweet and the best at hyping you up keeping your heart pounding in your chest. Osamu’s always had the way to make you melt into a pile of mush, though doing it in public so boastfully is definitely new.

“I think I’ve got one more,” you assure, stepping back k into the dressing room.

“I miss you,” he calls.

“I miss you more,” you return, and you pick up the final article of clothing- a short, tight dress, one you snuck in when he was looking at men’s shoes so he’d never get a peek before seeing it adorning your body.

It slips on and fits like a glove.

You’re pretty sure you saved the best for last.

You smirk at your reflection as your hands smooth down the dress, giving yourself a little spin in the wide mirrors. You sigh softly, happily, and you hear him chuckle, “don’t leave me in suspense, come on now.”

“I don’t think you’re ready for me,” you challenge.

You hear him scoff, “oh, I’m ready for you.”

You’re quick to fiddle with the lock and open the door, revealing yourself for the nth time today.

This time, however, his jaw drops. His eyes widen and they shamelessly take you all in, and the smirk that starts to spread is captured by his teeth as he sinks his them into the fat of it. His body tightens, and he lets out a small sigh through his nose, a small hand coming up to card his hair back.

“Holy fuck.”

“Osamu!” You giggle. “Dont say that!”

“You look… divine, momma,” he exhales, dropping his hand and resting it on his knee. “I was full of it before- this one’s my favorite.”

“Yeah?” You mewl, using your index finger to beckon him closer, and as if tranced, he stands up and makes his way to you, hands immediately reaching out to rest on your hips. “You like it that much?”

“I love it, angel face,” he confesses, his eyes shining with adoration and complete obsession. “If you get nothing from today- which you absolutely should- get the dress. For me.”

“For you?”

He chuckles, “yeah. Wanna look at you in it forever.”

[quinloki]

FuckNoWriMo

Here's my official Writing Challenge Post for anyone who wants to play along.

FuckNoWriMo will be held December 2024 for this year only, and will be held in March from 2025 on. Due to the terminology being used, this is probably an 18+ event, but I swore like a sailor at 12, and it's not like I can stop you from participating.

How to Participate:

Decide you want to write during the month of the event.

Write.

Bonus!

3. Post and share that you're writing, and what you're writing if you want \o/ 4. Tag your posts with #fnowrimo or #fucknowrimo

Want more structure? Certainly, allow me.

Pick one of the categories to run with and set that as your goal for the month:

A Word, if I May?: Write at least 31 words for the month.

Get That Shit Outlined: Write at least 1,000 words for the month. (33 words a day)

Give it the Gusto!: Write at least 5,000 words for the month. (162 words a day)

Hell Yeah, Write!: Write at least 10,000 words for the month. (323 words a day)

Words At Work: Write at least 20,000 words for the month. (646 words a day)

Punctuated: Write at least 35,000 words for the month. (1,130 words a day.)

Fuck It: Write at least 50,000 words for the month. (1,613 words a day)

Crazy 88 (it's a Kill Bill reference): Write at least 100,000 words for the month. (3,225 words a day)

Please note you may write anything:

An outline, several outlines, rough draft(s), poetry, journaling, lyrics, role-play with your friends, a campaign idea for a table top game, the script for a movie, show, visual novel, etc., notes to defend your dissertation, recipes, to-do lists - you get the point.

If you want to breakdown the granular concepts of an old historic text on index cards for shits and giggles, that counts too!

The event is less about the quality of the end result, and more about creating a habit to write daily. If you don't want to spend a lot of time fixing and editing a harried rough draft, then don't worry about the word count at all.

0 is a valid word count for the day. So is 1, or 10, or 100 or all those little numbers we often get discouraged seeing.

But set aside some time during the month, and write some fucking words, hell, write some words fucking. A real alphabet orgy. Be silly, weird, cringe, strange, gross, problematic, thematic - whatever \o/

Just write it yourself. I don't care if you dictate it, use the hunt and peck method, a pen, pencil, quill, or chisel.

But for the love of all that's holy -

No Generative AI

That's the only rule.

[reiderwriter]

🕯 Ring of Fire 🕯

Pairing: sub!Spencer Reid x dom!Female reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge (sort of lol)

Requested: could you do glasses sub!spencer realizing he has a wax play kink? yk maybe reader accidentally spills her wax melt off her desk at work and it goes on to spencer making him realize he’s into it so the next day he picks up sex wax and he asks her to do it when they get home?

Warnings: BDSM themes, standard case details mentioned, temperature play, wax play, dry humping, thigh riding, hand job, penetrative sex (p in v), overstimulation, implied cream pie, choking, mentions of rope play, sub!Spencer and dom!reader, dumbification/bimbofication.

A/N: This one was just for fun. I literally already crossed off the free space. This is just for shits and giggles. Well. Enjoy?

Masterlist || Bingo Board

“So you're telling me our vic was turned into a candle?” Morgan mused from the corner of the room, frowning down at the new body in front of him. Or at least where the body had been a half hour ago, the only sign remaining being the errant drops of wax strewn about the bed and the caution tape closing your entire crew into the room. 

“Not exactly,” Emily said from the other corner, pulling up a pair of fluffy handcuffs with a pen from her jacket and dropping it into the evidence bag JJ held out to her. 

“So a kinky candle, got it,” you smiled, looking over at the other goodies Emily had uncovered. 

“Morgan, those candles, can you check what kind of wax they are?” Spencer said from the corner, looking up with that look on his face. Half curious, half flipping through the deck of index cards he had stored in the filing cabinet of his brain, looking for the right piece of information. He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared intently over at Morgan, waiting for his answer.

“It says they're organic beeswax candles.”

“There's also some soy candles stored here in the closer, Spencer,” JJ pointed out, waiting, as you all were, for his brain to click the right information into place. 

“The victim seems obviously well versed in BDSM. He seems to be a seasoned submissive, but…” 

“But what?” You asked, trying to distract yourself from the excitement the words submissive coming from Spencer created in you. 

“The melting point of beeswax is 143-149° Fahrenheit. It's unsafe for temperature play, and it would have caused intense pain if not second or third-degree burns on his body. That's why he has the soy candles. Their melting point is as low as 114°. Those are the candles he was expecting.”

The shared looks around the room said that you were all contemplating the implications of his rambling. 

“So that candle isn't part of his collection, but something the unsub bought himself,” Hotch concluded for the team. “Good work, Spencer.”

The room cleared quickly after that, with each team member assigned different roles and tasks to keep the momentum going until it was just you and Spencer left, searching for anything else that could be helpful. He had a keen eye, and you… well, you were great at directing him. 

“That was clever,” you said, pulling on your rubber gloves and getting to work rooting through the kink closet. “With the wax.”

“Thanks,” he said, and something aching and feminine crushed through you as you noted the small stammer in his voice, the hesitant blush on his cheeks.

“You have such a lot of knowledge up there,” you said, tapping your forehead, so he could get the full picture, making sure you had his attention before you dropped to your knees and started your searching. 

“Hmm?” He said, and you knew he wasn't listening anymore. His eyes had glazed over behind those glasses, and even the glare in them couldn't hide that his gaze was entirely on you.

Spencer had always been sharp as a whistle, thinking too much for his own good. Until you had crawled into his bed that first time and convinced him that giving up thinking altogether really was for the best. 

Since then, it really hadn't been all that hard to convince him to turn it off and release that stress. 

“You know a lot about wax, is all,” you said, shrugging him off with a bored look and not bothering to look back at him. You knew that you'd just see a man desperate for your attention staring back at you anyway. 

“It seems like you had experience.”

“Ah, um, no, ahem,” he squeaked, clearing his throat quickly. “No…experience, I just... read about it once?” He was so nervous, he seemed suddenly so unsure of himself.

You finally smiled up at him from your place on the floor, watching him move around trinkets on the victims desk before looking back at you. 

“Good,” you said and stood up, confident that his eyes and thoughts wouldn't leave you now. 

“But if you ever find yourself curious, you know where I’ll be.”

You weren't expecting him to accept your invitation quickly. You'd admitted to yourself that anything remotely case related quite so soon was probably in poor taste. One case opened and closed and then another, and you'd fucked him in countless motel beds and against various walls before he mentioned it again. 

But there came a knock at your door one night, and you knew. 

“Spencer,” you said, smiling as innocently as you could, a little breathy from the quick sprint over to the front door of your apartment. 

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said, eyes tracing down his body to the traces of fatigue scattered across his body. The shirt sleeves pushed haphazardly up to his elbows, the tie undone, the shirt crumpled. You grinned harder as you saw the bag in his hand. 

“I… I thought we could..”

You softly grabbed his tie and walked back into your apartment, pulling him along with you as he still struggled to find the right words. 

“You thought we could try something new?” You asked. He nodded.

“Is the something new in that bag?” You asked. He nodded again. 

“Is that something new going to make your big cock nice and hard for me?” You asked. He blushed a fierce red and nodded again, as you stepped forward and started stroking him over his pants. 

“You know I want to hear your voice, Spencer. You need to be a good boy or we can't play with your nice new toy.”

“Y-Yes.” He said, eyes already squeezing shut in pleasure as you pressed against him, free hand wrestling his bag from his grip. 

“On the bed. Shirt off, pants off. Leave your underwear on for now, and don't you dare start without me,” you ordered and he quickly ran to obey your orders. After all, he already knew what happened when he didn't listen nicely. 

"Oh, and Spencer?" You said as he paused in the doorway. "Keep the glasses on."

You grabbed the candle out of the bag, finding the box of matches you kept in your kitchen drawers, and stepped out of your own clothes before joining him, the red set you'd donned that day being more than sufficient for teasing him. 

“Look at you, so pathetic for me,” you giggled, as you climbed over him, straddling his thighs as you lit the candle, making sure to avoid his crotch, to avoid giving him any accidental pleasure. 

“Y/N,” he whimpered, hands strewn up above his head, tangling in the sheets. He was so very used to not being able to touch that you didn't even need to tie him up these days. 

As you ground down into his thighs, effectively riding him and pleasuring yourself, he moaned and shook beneath you, the pressure of restraining himself almost unbearable. Almost.

You knew his limits, and he knew his safe word. 

“I think it's ready, my sweet. Shall we sate your curiosity?”

“Yes, yes, please, Y/N,” he whined, as your hand finally found its way to his cock again. 

You held the candle just above his stomach and let a single drop flow out, landing on his abdomen. He twitched and arched his back up, thrusting his cock further into your hand. 

You did it again, and his moans were electric as you rubbed your pussy against him harder, needier than before. 

You covered his stomach and chest in the hot wax as he fucked your hand, your fingers pushing under his underwear to grip his cock, letting him hiss at the skin to skin contact with each spasm.

“Good boy,” you said, but your heart wasn't in it. You were too taken with him, his cute sharp face, his rounded glasses, his lips spread in a delicious moan. You were too desperate for him to truly tease him at that point. You needed your pleasure as well. 

Already soaked from his sounds and his strong thigh, you pushed your red panties to the side and dropped yourself down onto his cock. The only thing stabilizing you at that moment was the hand that had slipped to his neck, your other too busy making sure the candle was upright as you pushed up and down on him, desperate to not ruin your sheets with wax. 

They were already sure to be soaked through after this, but you'd washed cum out of them before. You weren't sure you'd be able to wash hard wax out. 

You took your pleasure in him as he continued to thrust up into you, like an animal in heat that is simply desperate for any release it can get. 

With the wax still hot, you pushed upright and let it drip on him again. 

“Fuck, Y/N…”

“How does it feel?” 

“H-hot. And good. Really good.” He winced, hands covering his face as he held back his orgasm, knowing you gave the orders.

You yourself felt hot. You felt good. And, most importantly, you felt curious. 

“S-Spencer,” you said, leaning down so your lips were practically kissing just below his ear. 

“I want you to burn me.” 

His eyes shot open, his hands racing to cup your ass cheeks as he stilled himself, forcing air in and out of his lungs. 

You put the candle on the nightstand and rolled onto your back, bringing him with you until your legs were wrapped around his waist and his head was pressed between your breasts, aa if startled by the movement and seeking comfort.  

His cock twitched inside you again and you were sure you were close. You just needed to feel him again. 

“Show me, Spencer. Show me what it was that made you so desperate to cum for me,” you whispered, pushing your hips up to meet his, urging him to move. 

Steadily, his hand reached out for the candle and he held it in his hands, moving back to a kneeling position as he got ready to use it. 

You sat yourself up on your elbows and watched as he pushed into you, one hand on your hip, and finally, agonizingly slowly, sent a single drip towards the tops of your breasts. 

“FUCK,” you screamed, grabbing his hand on your hip as you threw your head back onto the pillow. 

It was hot. It was so hot you thought for sure it'd burn right through you, but it felt good. 

You looked to the wax on your breast as he let another drip fall out and decorate the other. 

Your hips twitched, you pushed upwards and you came on his cock, whimpering and moaning just like he had done earlier.

“Good job… Good boy,” you panted as he let another drip go, never content to leave you with just a single orgasm if he himself hadn't cum yet. 

He thrust harder and harder as he put the candle down, pushing his nose into the crook of your neck and nuzzling in there. His glasses were an uncomfortable weight at your shoulder blade, but you welcomed the pain.

“Thank you,” he repeated, again and again, until you were certain it was the only thing he could remember, his hands tracing the bumps of wax over your body. 

You did the same, stroking his stomach as you grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to you. 

He came with a grunt, and you pushed him onto your back and rode out his orgasm as you chased your second, letting it crash through you moments later. 

Collapsing onto his chest, you let his hands wrap around you, pulling you in, ever as you were aware of the uncomfortable notches of hard wax decorating both of you. 

“Soy wax, right?” You asked, catching your breath. He nodded. 

“It washes off, right?” You asked. He nodded, blinking his eyes open again and staring at you quickly. 

He sealed your mouth against his ans held you tenderly there for a second before pulling you up into a sitting position, cock still warmed in your cunt. 

“We should go and find that out,” he said, shyly nodding towards your bathroom as you smiled and grinned straight back at him. 

[jetii]

Hello! I was wondering if I could 36 NSFW with Tech x fem!reader? Maybe where he said that nobody really gave him a challenge at the game, and readers ego is too high to back down from that offer even though she loses horribly. Established relationship perhaps? Also, I love your writing it’s amazing! You deserve all the love and followers

Hiii I'm so happy you requested this!!! I've been addicted to playing Kessel Sabacc in SW Outlaws for the past few weeks, and I was just waiting for the opportunity to work my knowledge into a fic. Literally wrote this as soon as I saw it in my inbox.

I consider this reader the same as the one from On Impulse if anyone cares!

Strategy

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 5,069

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, smut, established relationship, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, light dom Tech, rough (but affectionate) sex

Prompt: 36. “I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the one that wanted to play strip Sabacc.”

500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"Pure sabacc," you announce, throwing down your cards and leaning back in your chair. A relieved grin spreads across your face at Tech's expression. His mouth is a thin line and his eyes are squinted, but there's an exasperated glint in them.

"Yes, I know," he grumbles, dropping his own cards on the table. Tech isn't a sore loser, but he is a competitive one. And the fact that this is the second hand you've won in a row is definitely irking him.

You snatch up his discarded cards and start to shuffle. "What was that about me never winning a round?"

"It is an anomaly," Tech states emotionlessly.

"And you've done the calculations to prove it, haven't you?"

He doesn't answer.

"Well, maybe I'm just lucky tonight." You cross your arms, reveling in his annoyance. "You know, I was beginning to think you were cheating with all the times you've been winning."

Tech rolls his eyes, but you can tell he's fighting off a smirk.

"I wouldn't cheat. Besides, I don't need to. My superior memory allows me to calculate the chances of each outcome with ease, making me naturally skilled at the game. Whereas you," he continues, leaning across the table and resting his elbows on it, "must rely on luck, because your memory is abysmal. It's no surprise you've been losing so often."

"Hey!" you protest, tossing a card at him. It flutters through the air, but he catches it before it hits his goggles.

Tech leans forward, the card trapped between his index and middle finger. "I am merely pointing out the facts, darling."

You snatch the card from him and return it to the deck, refusing to meet his smug gaze. He's trying to distract you, and he knows it's working.

"You can't always rely on the facts," you say, dealing the cards out once again.

"I don't. I also use strategy. Which you should try, seeing as it would certainly help you win."

"Strategy?"

"Yes, like—"

"Like how you're trying to distract me by insulting my memory?"

Tech huffs a breathy laugh and tilts his chin down. "Is it working?"

"Absolutely not." You glance down at your cards, trying your best not to smirk at your hand. Another sylop. The deck is stacked in your favor this round, and you have a perfect chance of beating Tech.

"What do you say we make this more interesting?" you propose, watching Tech's head tilt in curiosity.

He places a chip down and draws a card before his eyes dart back to yours. "I'm listening."

"Strip sabacc."

Tech's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and he almost drops the cards he's holding. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me," you tease, setting your cards down. "Whoever loses a round has to remove an item of clothing. If you lose all your clothes before I do, I win. If I lose mine first, you win. Deal?"

He takes a moment to contemplate the suggestion, a faint blush coloring his cheeks, and his eyes narrow, calculating the possibilities. When his lips curve into a smirk, you know he's made up his mind.

"Deal," he agrees, nodding once and adjusting his goggles. He lays down his cards face up—pair of ones. You frown at your own hand and drop them onto the table.

"Oh, come on! Again?"

Tech chuckles, leaning back in his seat. "I believe you're the one who suggested this game. Now, please, take off an item of clothing."

The cockiness in his tone sends a shiver down your spine, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. Tech may be a terrible flirt, but his confidence in himself is incredibly sexy.

You slip your boots off and kick them under the table, then lean back in your chair and cross your arms. Tech's eyes are locked on you, a devious smile playing at his lips.

"Now who's distracted?" you taunt, winking at him.

"Hardly," he answers. But you can see the flush on his face and the way his chest is rising and falling just a little bit faster than usual. He's excited, and he's trying to hide it.

“You know, you’re wearing a lot more clothes than I am," you argue, leaning forward on the table and batting your eyelashes innocently. “You should take off an item, too, for fairness' sake."

"Fine." He pulls his boots off and drops them onto the floor. "Happy now?"

"Very."

Tech picks up the deck and shuffles the cards, the corners of his lips turning up.

"This was your plan, wasn't it?" he asks.

"My plan was to finally win a game of sabacc against you. And maybe see you with less clothes on, but that's an added bonus."

Tech chuckles and slides the cards toward you, his eyes burning into yours. "You are very devious. Now, deal the cards, darling."

You quickly learn that the stakes have made the game a lot more fun. Your heart races as the tension between the two of you rises, each of you sneaking glances at the other while pretending not to. And it doesn't take long for Tech to get the upper hand, much to your dismay.

"I told you," he teases, smirking at you over his cards, "my superior memory allows me to calculate the probability—"

"Yeah, yeah, you don't need to brag," you interrupt, rolling your eyes. You draw another card, cursing when it doesn't help you in the slightest.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining, you’re the one that wanted to play strip Sabacc," he says. You look up at Tech to see he's staring at his own cards, but the slight smile playing on his lips tells you he's aware of your annoyance.

You can't argue with that. You're the one that proposed the idea, and you're the one that can’t seem to stop losing, so now you're the one sitting on the ship with no shoes, socks, or a shirt, leaving only your pants and undergarments. Meanwhile, Tech has only removed his gloves and belt.

He places his cards face-up on the table, revealing another pure sabacc.

"Dammit," you sigh, throwing your own cards onto the table. "Again."

"Strip," Tech commands, and there's a huskiness to his voice that wasn't there before. His eyes are dark and intense as they follow your every move, and his mouth is curved in a devilish smile.

"Are you enjoying this?" you ask, unbuttoning your pants and standing from the chair.

"Immensely," he admits, his eyes not straying from you.

Heat spreads throughout your body at the intensity of his gaze. He watches with bated breath as you push the fabric down your legs, revealing the soft skin of your thighs, and he licks his lips subconsciously. The pants pool around your feet, and you kick them under the table before returning to your seat.

"Now who's the distracted one?"

"Not distracted," Tech replies, his eyes meeting yours. "Appreciating."

His words are heavy and sultry, and you can't stop the flush that colors your cheeks.

"You can appreciate me better if you lose another round," you tell him, shuffling the cards once again.

Tech's eyes narrow. "I think I'd prefer to watch you lose a few more."

The cockiness in his voice goes straight to your core, and a heat pools in your abdomen. Tech doesn't break eye contact, his stare intense and challenging, and a thrill shoots through you at the thought of what he could be thinking.

"I guess we'll see," you tell him, smirking.

You deal the cards, and Tech immediately throws a chip down, drawing his next card. A satisfied smile curves his lips. He's not even trying to hide his glee at your frustration, and it's infuriating.

You throw a chip onto your pile, drawing a card and praying that the Force will be on your side this round. You peek at the numbers and symbols on the card, and the disappointment is instant. It's the worst possible combination—a six and one. And you're out of chips.

When Tech sets his cards down, he does so slowly, drawing out the moment and relishing in your scowl.

You sigh, dropping your useless cards, and Tech's eyes brighten at the sight.

"Well, would you look at that?" he says, his voice filled with fake innocence. "I believe that's five in a row for me."

"No shit, really?" you mutter, rolling your eyes. "I had no idea."

He leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, his hands folded together and his chin resting on top. "Strip."

It's the way he says it, like a command. His voice is low and gravelly, and you feel yourself getting wetter at the tone. He's so sure of himself, so cocky, and it's driving you wild.

"Do I have to?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him.

Tech's eyes narrow in on you. "Yes."

You stand and unclasp your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders and slipping it off your arms. The cold air makes your nipples harden instantly, and his eyes widen when he sees them. He stares for a moment, taking in the view, and then his tongue darts out and licks his lips.

"I must admit, I'm finding this game more enjoyable than I originally thought," he says, his voice thick.

"Only because you're winning."

He hums in agreement and deals the next hand, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Throughout the round, Tech's eyes keep flicking back and forth between the cards and your chest, and you have to bite back a smile. He's trying so hard to concentrate, and his obvious struggle is adorable.

Tech's confidence fades as the round progresses, and by the time he sets his cards down, he isn't wearing his usual cocky smile. His mouth is pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows are knitted together when he shows you his hand.

"What's wrong, Tech?" you tease, leaning back in your seat. "Disappointed that you lost?"

"Of course not," he scoffs. "I've already calculated the possibilities and I know how this will end. I have no doubt that I will win."

"Then why are you pouting?"

"I am not pouting."

"Uh-huh. Well, whatever the reason, it's time for you to remove some clothes."

Tech sighs and slips off his goggles. His warm eyes meet yours, and you notice that they're slightly glazed over.

"There," he grumbles, pushing the goggles across the table toward you. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," you reply, a wide smile on your face.

Your eyes rake over him, taking in his appearance. It’s rare that you get to see him this way, and you savor the moment. Tech has always been handsome, but the way he looks right now, with his hair mussed and a blush coloring his cheeks, is absolutely enticing.

You pick up the deck and shuffle it, and the sound of the cards sliding together is the only noise in the room. Tech's eyes are fixed on your bare chest, and his throat bobs when he swallows.

"Like what you see?" you ask, raising a brow.

"Always."

Your cheeks flush, and you deal the cards. The anticipation is killing you, and the smugness that Tech was showing before is long gone. He seems eager to get the game over with, and the impatience in his demeanor is refreshing.

His eyes flick back and forth between the cards and the pile, and his face gives nothing away. You're desperate to know what his hand is, and it's taking every ounce of willpower not to peek.

He reaches across the table and throws a chip down, his brow furrowing. It's such a subtle change in his expression, and most people would miss it. But you know Tech well enough to understand his emotions, and right now he's frustrated.

Your heartbeat quickens as you draw a card. Another three to match the one already in your hand. Not great, but it's enough to win if Tech doesn't have a better sabacc.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask him, watching as his eyes move from his cards to yours and back again.

"Strategy," he mutters.

"What kind of strategy?"

"The type of strategy that will guarantee my victory,” he says. His eyes are determined and his jaw is clenched. He glances up from his cards to meet your gaze, and the fire in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine.

"Show me your cards," he demands.

You do as he asks, laying the two twos face-up on the table. The look he gives you is nothing short of prideful, and your heart drops.

"You've got to be kidding me," you groan.

Tech reveals his own cards—a sylop and a one. You let out an exasperated huff, and he chuckles.

"Well," he starts, placing his cards on the table and leaning back in his chair. His gaze travels over your body, and his smirk widens. "Go on."

Your cheeks heat up under his scrutinizing stare, and a part of you wants to rebel and refuse to comply. But Tech looks so damn good right now, his eyes filled with mischief, and the excitement coursing through you is too much.

"You're having too much fun," you say, your voice low.

"I'd have more fun if you'd hurry up and finish this little game of ours," Tech retorts.

 You're about to give him a smart retort, but then you notice the way he shifts in his seat. It's subtle, and you doubt he even realizes it, but it's there. The tightening of his thighs, the slight twitch of his hands. He's just as turned on as you are.

And you decide to play into it.

"I'm in no rush." You stand, slowly, and let your hands travel down the expanse of your chest, cupping your breasts and running your thumbs over your nipples.

Tech's breath catches, and his eyes are dark as they watch your every move. You can see his fingers twitching, aching to touch you, but he's refraining. You run a hand down your stomach, over the hem of your panties, and he licks his lips again.

Then, without warning, you turn away from him, exposing your backside. Tech makes a sound of protest, but his objection quickly dies down when he sees you hook your thumbs into the waistband and slide your underwear down. You bend forward to push them down your legs, and you can hear the sharp intake of breath from Tech.

The moment you turn around, a mischievous glint in your eye, you're met with a new expression on Tech's face.

He looks hungry.

His pupils are blown wide and his lips are parted, and you can tell it's taking all his strength not to jump across the table and take you right then and there.

"Well?" you tease, raising an eyebrow at him. "What are you waiting for?"

He doesn't waste a second. With one swift motion, he tosses the cards aside, his eyes never leaving yours, and stands. Then, he's on the other side of the table and grabbing your waist, pulling you towards him until your chest is pressed against his.

"I win," he announces, his hands roaming over your body.

"Then take your prize."

He pulls you into a searing kiss, his lips pressing insistently against yours. His hands travel the expanse of your skin, squeezing and caressing. One settles at the base of your neck while the other moves lower, down the curve of your back and to your ass. He grabs it, hard, and pulls your hips towards his, pressing his already-hard erection into you. You moan into his mouth, and he swallows it up, his tongue delving deeper and dancing with yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer and pressing your bare chest against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, and his arousal is evident as he rocks his hips into yours, his hand squeezing and kneading your flesh.

When the two of you break away for air, his mouth moves lower, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking the sensitive skin at your pulse point. You tilt your head back, allowing him more access, and he takes full advantage. His tongue laves over the area, teeth nipping at the skin, and a breathy moan escapes your lips.

Tech's lips travel lower, across your collarbone and down your chest, stopping at the valley between your breasts. His breath fans over your skin, and his tongue darts out, licking a stripe along the underside of one breast. His fingers move up, brushing over the bud of your nipple, and you let out a whimper at the sensation.

He looks up at you, a satisfied smile playing at his lips, before bending and taking the other nipple into his mouth. His tongue swirls around it, his lips sucking the sensitive flesh, and his hand pinches the other one. The feeling sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and your hands find their way into his hair, tangling themselves in the strands.

You gasp as his teeth gently graze over the hardened peak, and your knees nearly buckle beneath you. His other hand comes up and holds your hip, steadying you, and his mouth moves to the other side.

"Tech..." you breathe, your head falling back and your eyes fluttering shut. He's barely touched you, and already, you're a panting mess.

Tech's lips travel further down, past your navel and to your thighs. He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands trailing along the curves of your hips, and his lips press kisses into your skin.

"I've been wanting to taste you all day," he says, his voice a low rumble.

"You should've told me earlier," you breathe, looking down at him through hooded eyes. "We could've skipped the sabacc." 

"This was far more entertaining." He presses a kiss to your mound, and you shudder. His eyes are dark with lust, and the sight of him on his knees before you makes your core clench with anticipation.

Tech kisses your thigh, his tongue darting out to taste the skin. Your hands tighten in his hair, tugging and guiding him to where you need him most. He chuckles, and the warm breath fans over your sensitive flesh. 

His fingers dance across your skin, teasing the crease of your thighs, before one presses against your heat. A moan escapes your lips, and he presses harder, dragging his finger through your folds.

"You're already so wet," he murmurs, his eyes watching the way his finger moves. "Were you thinking about this while we were playing? About what would happen if you lost?"

"Yes," you answer truthfully, and the admission has him groaning.

He rubs circles into your clit, his touch sending sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Your legs begin to shake, and you place a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. He glances up at you, the corner of his mouth turning up in a devilish smirk, and he presses a finger against your entrance. You whimper at the contact, and Tech lets out a quiet moan, the sight of you falling apart before him clearly affecting him.

"Tech, please," you beg, rocking your hips into his hand.

"Patience, darling," he coos.

He pushes the digit into you, slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch, and then curls it upwards. You gasp, your hand gripping his shoulder tighter, and he begins to pump his finger in and out of you. His arm nudges your thigh, spreading your legs wider, and he leans in and presses his mouth to your clit. He licks a broad stripe up the sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue swirling around it, and you cry out in pleasure.

His free hand grips your thigh, holding you steady, while the other continues its slow movements, pushing in and out of you. You feel the tension coiling inside of you, and you know it won't take long for him to push you over the edge. His tongue is skilled and insistent, and he knows you better than anyone.

Tech's eyes are locked on yours, watching every reaction, and you can see the pure delight written on his face. He loves knowing he's the one doing this to you, making you fall apart.

"Tech... I'm..." You can't finish the sentence. The tension is building inside you, threatening to snap at any moment, and your breathing is labored. Tech adds a second finger, pumping faster and curling them against the spongy spot within you. You whimper, your grip on his shoulder tightening, and he knows you're close.

"Come for me," he says, his words vibrating against your sensitive flesh. His palm slaps against your clit, his fingers curling deeper, and the coil inside you snaps.

"Fuck!" you gasp, your legs shaking as the orgasm crashes through you. Tech's arm wraps around your thigh, keeping you upright as your knees buckle. He continues pumping his fingers, drawing out the pleasure, his tongue flicking and swirling around your clit.

When the sensations become too much, you place a hand on his forehead and push him away, your body going slack. Tech pulls his fingers from you and places a gentle kiss on your inner thigh before standing, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice husky.

"Mhmm," you hum, a blissful smile tugging at your lips.

Tech's hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. He takes a step forward, guiding you backwards, and the backs of your legs hit the bunk.

"Tech, please," you beg, breaking the kiss and staring into his eyes. They're black with desire, and he's already reaching down, fumbling with the zipper of his pants.

He pushes them down his legs, kicking them away, and his cock springs free, already leaking. Your hand reaches for him, stroking him from base to tip, and he groans, his hips bucking into your touch.

You continue the slow movements, dragging your hand along his length and rubbing your thumb over the tip. Tech's breathing is heavy, and his head falls to your shoulder, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

"Stop," he mutters, grabbing your wrist and halting the movement. "I want to last more than five seconds."

You chuckle and press a kiss to his jaw. "Well, let's go, then."

His eyes meet yours, and he nods. Then, in a swift motion, he spins you around and pushes you forward, bending you over the side of the bed.

He presses his body against yours, his cock grinding against your ass, and a soft moan escapes your lips. He's close, his breathing hot and heavy against your neck, and his hands are gripping your hips, pulling you towards him.

You feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance, and a shiver runs down your spine. You lean forward, resting your arms on the mattress and tilting your ass higher, and Tech lets out a deep moan at the sight.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers as one hand slides along the curve of your back.

“Hurry up," you urge, wiggling your hips against him.

His hand moves down your hip, across your ass, taking a moment to squeeze the flesh, and lower to the back of your thigh. His fingers dance along the skin, sending shivers down your spine, before coming to a stop at the back of your knee. He lifts it, propping it on the edge of the bunk, spreading your legs wider, and then his cock is lining up with your entrance.

He pushes in, slowly, letting you adjust to the stretch. You whimper as he fills you, and his hand comes up, rubbing soothing circles into your lower back.

Tech pauses when he's fully sheathed inside you, his hips flush with yours, and his hand comes around to rest on your lower stomach. The light pressure on the spot is just enough to have you squirming, and you push back into him, silently begging for more.

"Please, Tech," you whimper, and he huffs a laugh.

"Begging already?" he teases, his breath fanning over the shell of your ear. "I haven't even started yet."

He pulls out of you, and the drag of his cock has you whining, already missing the sensation. He pushes back in, slow and deep, and you let out a shaky breath.

"Fuck, Tech," you pant, and he groans, his nose brushing against the nape of your neck.

His pace is slow and methodical, and you can't help but admire the restraint he's showing. Usually, he's a mess by this point, but now, his fingers are digging into your hips, holding you steady, and his breathing is slow and controlled.

You turn your head, pressing your cheek against the sheets, and glance up at him. His eyes are shut tight, and his brow is furrowed in concentration. You're not sure what's gotten into him, but he seems determined not to lose control.

"Harder, Tech," you urge, pushing your hips back to meet his. He grunts and snaps his hips, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. You let out a moan, and Tech's pace quickens, his thrusts growing more forceful.

Your fingers dig into the sheets, trying to find purchase as he pounds into you. It's intoxicating, the feeling of his cock filling you, stretching you. And the sounds coming from his lips—the soft grunts and moans—are driving you wild. He's always quiet during sex, but the sounds he's making now are anything but.

Tech's grip on your hip tightens, and his hand on your stomach presses harder, holding you in place as his hips move faster. His thrusts are sharp and deep, and he hits that sweet spot inside you, sending tingling waves of pleasure through your body.

"Yes," you cry out, and you push back against him, meeting each thrust. "More, Tech."

"I don't want to hurt you," he says, his voice strained.

"You won't."

He lets out a strangled moan and slams his hips into yours, the movement nearly knocking the breath from your lungs. He continues his relentless pace, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hip, and your head falls forward, resting against the sheets.

Your legs are shaking, and the tension inside you is threatening to snap at any moment. You can feel the fire burning in your abdomen, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter, and the way Tech is panting against your neck isn't helping.

"That's it," he growls, his voice low and husky. "You're close, aren't you?"

"Yes," you breathe.

"I can feel you tightening around me." He groans, his pace never faltering. "You're going to come for me."

It's a demand, not a question. And you have no intention of disobeying him.

Tech's hand slides from your hip to your ass, squeezing the plump flesh. The possessiveness of the gesture has you keening, and you arch your back, presenting yourself to him. He growls at the sight, his hips slamming into yours.

"Stars, you're so fucking beautiful," he pants, his hand moving to your thigh and hiking your leg higher. The new angle allows him to slide deeper inside you, and you can feel the pressure building within you, the tears beginning to prick at your eyes.

"Tech, please," you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his.

"What do you need, darling?" he asks, his voice strained. "Tell me."

"Make me come, please," you whine, and his hips jerk forward.

His hand is quick, sliding between your legs and finding your clit. He presses two fingers against the swollen bud, rubbing slow circles, and the tension snaps. Your body goes rigid, and your vision blurs as the orgasm rips through you. You cry out, Tech's name falling from your lips, and your knees buckle, the only thing keeping you upright is his firm grip on your hips.

You bury your face in the sheets, muffling the sound of your moans, and Tech keeps pumping into you, his thrusts rocking you forward and sending your orgasm even higher.

He fucks you through the high, his pace never faltering, each thrust punching another gasp from you. Your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white and jaw clenched, and the pleasure is so intense that tears begin to roll down your cheeks. His cock twitches inside you, and you clench around him, desperate to push him over the edge.

"Fuck," he hisses, his thrusts becoming sloppy. He's babbling now, his voice hoarse and broken, and you can tell he's close. "You're perfect, darling. You're— fuck, I love you, I love you, I love—"

His words are cut off by a deep groan, and his hips stutter. He slams into you one final time before he spills into you, hot and thick, and the feeling is enough to make you see stars. His hands are gripping your waist, bruising the flesh, and he pulls you into his lap as he turns and collapses onto the bed.

You both sit there, panting, his chest pressed against your back. His forehead is resting against your shoulder, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. The two of you are covered in a sheen of sweat, and his hands are roaming your body, tracing gentle patterns across your skin.

"That was..." Tech trails off, unable to form the words.

"Yeah," you agree, leaning back against him. You take in a shaky breath and sigh. "I love you too, by the way."

"I know." He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing a gentle kiss against the sensitive skin. "I can't believe you suggested strip sabacc."

"And I can't believe you agreed."

"Well, I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see you naked," he chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy circles across your abdomen.

You laugh, and the sound is bright and clear. You shift in his lap, turning around and straddling his hips. His eyes are soft as he stares up at you, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Maybe we should play it more often then," you joke, leaning down and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

"We will, if this is how you plan to reward me every time I win."

"Deal."

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino @silly-starfish

[brightsun-and-darkmidnight]

Welcome to brightsun-and-darkmidnight

Before we get further...This blog is 18+ so Minors do NOT interact. This place is not for you. If you are a minor or have a blog that I suspect is a bot, your blog will be blocked. Most of my work has explicit content and I am currently trying to explore darker themes. Check the warnings and triggers to decide if you can handle that content. Things will be tagged appropriately, if you feel a tag needs to be added please let me know so it can be addressed. With that being said...

Welcome to the land of (my)Muse. Each idea produced is either as bright and cheerful as the sun, or as dark as midnight with a new moon. Some ideas that the muse finds interest in are short lived and others the inspiration seems to flow forever. 

To help keep the Muse inspired on an idea you can try to feed it! It’s favorite food is called, feedback. You can leave a comment, reblog, or send an ask anonymously to feed the Muse with what you liked about its work. Feedback may make this fickle beast latch onto the idea. The Muse is often easy to inspire and flexible with ideas. 

Cannon rarely matters in my writing -I prefer to write with Alternate Universes. My top two favorite characters are Bucky and Loki...I use them the most for writing because the Muse loves to use the appearances of Sebastain Stan and Tom Hiddleston. It’s very likely that you will see posts of those actors and tagged “muse fuel” or “for research purposes” or I tagged specific characters and/or fics of mine as well. Feel free to tag me in things with these two actors and see if the Muse is hungry for more inspiration. We can start the tag game that once happened with suggestive or filthy things and tag all that with “this is war” it was fun but Tumblr was not safe to check in public.

Keep the majestic Muse traveling wildly through Tumblr by hitting that reblog button on things you like. Tags on Tumblr are sometimes odd but could help you find things easier on your own blog! That reblog button is a feature on tumblr that will put the post to your dashboard. Reblogs are the only way that the Muse’s creations are able to be seen by others. Likes are appreciated because they are the affection that the Muse loves too, but the Muse loves to run wild. The more people who see the muse, the more likely it will be fed and be energized for more wild inspirations. The muse will not react kindly to those who repost the work it produced -reposting is copying and pasting elsewhere to make your own post. Even if you give credit to me, it is still NOT allowed!

No one is allowed to repost or translate my work. My work is only posted here on tumblr, and on my AO3 brightsun_and_darkmidnight.

AO3 stands for Archive Of Our Own. It is a library for fanfiction and it has a nice feature of being able to bookmark works so you can easily go back to things you once read before or save things for the future. The tagging system is amazing there, and easy to use. Everything the Muse makes me write is posted on my AO3. From now on a link will be shared from AO3, then to here (Tumblr), with the access to the work below the “read more” link/cut so you do not need to leave Tumblr. Each creation will be posted in one of my masterlists that I try to organize the madness and chaos that the Muse leaves for me to gather and organize for all of you lovely followers and those passing through. To keep things as organized as possible, there are two masterlists….

Main Masterlist  

-I have been working on this since I began this account a few years ago. There are many things to see here and I hope you enjoy. The Muse is hoping for affection and feedback because of the stuff you enjoyed. A reblog simply saying “I liked this” will make the Muse incredibly happy and probably prance around and show off more.

Index Card Challenge - The Cards Have Spoken! Masterlist 

-This masterlist has all the information you need as well as the work that I have created from this weekly challenge. In summary, @melodylnoelle and I, pull index cards with different information/prompts and write something on this game of chance. There have been many different things produced from this challenge and we do our best to post weekly. Melody is an excellent writer and I highly suggest you check out her work too!  

[fabdante]

my first piece colored for the @zutaracoloringbook !

the lines were done in clip studio paint, the color in marker, colored pencil, gel pen, and paint pen. with some minor digital touch ups after scanning.

you can color this piece for yourself for free! it's in this years @zutaracoloringbook , go pick yourself up a copy! there's tons of beautiful pieces in it including this one, all for free!

under the cut, for anyone interested, im going to ramble a lot about the process of this one because i just have a lot of thoughts asdfghjk the tldr is: this is not at all how i expected this piece to look, i fell asleep working on it at one point which is just wild to me, and 'ooo pretty colors'

i've sat on this one for a little bit and im still not sure how i feel about it? i like it but it's also not at all how i expected the color for this piece to look asdfghj

i originally thought the palette would be darker but after printing the piece i realized, given the lines were not as dark as they would have been if they'd been drawn traditionally, that i'd drown out the lines with that color scheme.

i also made a lot of little mistakes ranging from using colors darker then i wanted for shading to at one point Literally Falling Asleep While Coloring With Black Marker, thus leaving a black spot on the page that I then had to work around.

the paper also was a double edged sword. i did not print on marker paper or artist paper, which usually is not an issue with me. i know most marker artists will strangle me for saying this, but i have never drawn on marker paper? like ever? i taught myself how to use marker on mixed media paper and i have rarely used marker paper since. i've just never felt a need? contrary to what people have said, i've never seen any like abnormal wear and tear on my markers doing this and i, personally, just accept that markers are going to bleed. it's not my enemy it's just part of the medium. it's what markers do. they're a wet medium even on paper made for wet mediums they will bleed out and often bleed through a little bit. i learned how to work around that and use it to my advantage. this paper however, the markers didn't bleed at all? and they dried so fast it made maintaining an even texture and blending like i normally do a challenge. it just didn't have a lot of give? HOWEVER the color pay off was CRAZY like the colors are so vivid and bright and rich. like, i made my own color chart for my markers on index cards and then i would often test the colors on scrap paper of the same paper to confirm what the colors going to look like but when i would use colors on the piece itself they were always darker, richer, brighter, and just all around way more vivid. which makes the piece very nice to look at, admittedly asdfghjk. so paper pros: fantastic color pay off like crazy color pay off, paper cons: I Don't Know How To Blend.

for anyone wondering why i didn't print on marker paper: firstly, i don't have any this size. secondly, marker paper tends to be pretty thick and not super malleable so i didn't think it'd be safe for my printer. likewise, i didn't think any of my other paper would be either. so i decided to do what i did last year which was use a fancy paper stock i had that was printer safe for my printer paper so it's not just regular thin computer paper.

some of these technical issues i blame on being out of practice, i haven't worked in marker for a minute and this piece involving such large scale blending was a bit ambitious especially on unfamiliar paper (learning how to blend with markers i find is just a lot of practice with your particular markers to know how they behave while also knowing your paper). but im also just confused because i feel like the paper behaved better when i used it last year and with my self portraits asdfghj im wondering if i just printed this on the wrong side? more testing is in order before i work on my next two pieces dfghjklfghjk

so, anyway, i might try to color this one again because i don't know how satisfied i am with it. like, i like it, but also it just doesn't feel correct. i might do it digitally or i might do it traditionally, we'll see. but im not going to try again until i finish the other two i need to color. i think this stems from the fact that i just feel like the palette was meant to be different then the one i ended up with so it just still feels incomplete to me. we'll see how i feel, though, when i finish the other two.

anyway, if anyone read all of that, thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[fanaticsnail]

Beg For It

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 4,400+

Synopsis: This was it. Walking the fine line between too little and too much, you finally wandered too close to the burning ball of light sparking the wick of fury within your superior. You had finally pushed him too far, and all it took was you handing in your resignation.

Warnings: Dom!Smoker x Sub!Reader, afab!reader, oral - reader!receiving, fingering, swearing, edging, begging, crying, pleading, smoker is mean, reader is a brat, MDNI, 18+, Smut, not much plot, superior x subordinate, he slaps it, degradation (terms of endearment: little shit, brat, baby), Vice-Admiral Smoker x Commander Reader.

Notes: I had a couple of thoughts, and I asked some mutuals who would be a mean dom to a brat. The consensus was Smoker wins out. Probably the most smutty smut I've written. Please read the content warnings. Art Link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

The sheets beneath you crumpled into a heap, the elastic edge being tugged away from the corner as you were caged against the mattress beneath two steely legs straddling your hips. Helpless beneath him, the overpowering aroma of tobacco and oakmoss cologne stimulated your senses. With your eyes clamped tightly shut, you writhed against the hand clamped around your wrists and pinning them above your head.

You attempt to stifle the moan that he coaxes from your lips by biting down hard and turning your face into your upper arm. The flushed heat on your cheeks only seems to grow more intense as his wandering fingers gently tickle at your ribcage. 

This was it. Walking the fine line between too little and too much, you finally wandered too close to the burning ball of light sparking the wick of fury within your superior. You had finally pushed him too far, and all it took was handing in your resignation.

Hearing your stifled whimper at his wandering touch, you could hear the smirk in his chuckle without turning to face him. His calloused digits continue to leave a trail of elevated gooseflesh beneath his fingers. His breath blew against your neck as he lowered himself to a deep stoop, his lips yet to make contact with your quickening pulse.

“Enjoying yourself, brat?” His hands finally cupped your core, his fingers carding through your lower lips and collecting your arousal, smearing and spreading it over your needy slit. “You like being overpowered, don’t you? This what you’ve been aiming for?” 

“I’m not overpowered,” you whine into your shoulder, muffling the moan you made when he teased at your folds and testing the margins close to your pearly bud. “I c-can get outta this if I want to.” He snickered at your confession, his teeth gently nipping at your jaw. 

“Then what’s stoppin’ you, hm?” he watched your face, your brows furrowing and lips parting as he began to toy with your clit, rubbing teasing circles and patterns against the sensitive nub. You mewl in response, attempting to fight back the urge to give him the satisfaction of knowing what his ministrations are doing to you.

“I-I- just… fuck,” you arched your back and hummed into your lips, prompting him to let out a low growl in response. You turned your gaze to his, eyes darkening and blown with lust, “I just don’t want to.”

As your eyes met, he smirked at your challenge and rolled your clit between his index and middle finger. The challenge in your eyes begins to teeter off as your brows peak up in the center of your forehead. His grin grows all the wider when he feels your body beginning to give into him.

“Y-You're-...” you feel his fingers trace and dip patterns into your skin. Your words momentarily become lost to you as his touch becomes more intense and heavy circles against your sensitive bud. 

“I-I’m-...?” his voice mocks you, “I’m what, brat? What am I?” His body pressed more firmly over yours, his gaze never leaving yours as he watches for exactly what motion to make your breath hitch and back arch. You bite your lip in frustration, snarling back at him with a hardened resolve.

“You're an asshole,” you hiss up at him. He chuckles at you, his cruel smirk growing into a sinister grin. 

“You kiss all your superiors with that mouth?” He tightens his grip over your wrists and gently rocks his hand over your core, spreading your glistening arousal further over your pussy before focussing more attention on your clit. “Or is it just hollow words to disguise the fact that I’m making you feel so fucking good?” 

“Fuck you, Smoker,” you finally hiss his name, whining as you feel his fingers begin to curl and tease at your slit. “You've a-always been so fucking mean to me. W-Why-... oh fuck,” his fingers slip into your tight entrance and curl up to brush immediately with your g-spot. You arch your back as your wandering touch continues to coax moans from your throat. “...Why are you doing this?”

A small chuckle rumbles from his throat as he scissors and pistons his fingers within your core, watching you closely as another pleasured moan escapes your parted lips. Removing his hands from your heat, he drags his fingers over your lower stomach and spreads a shameful streak of arousal atop your warm skin. 

“Because, you little shit,” he barks down at you, gently leaning in towards your face and hovering a few whispers away from your lips, “You’ve always been such a fucking tease, and it’s time for me to take back some control.” A dangerous smile splits over his mouth and up his cheeks as his fingers return to your entrance and sliding his middle and unity fingers against your core.

You smirk up at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much you have been craving his attention, your hands still trapped in his strong grip and your body pinned beneath his wide straddle. 

“Could’a just had me do some laps or-... ooh, f-fuck-...” you threw your head back against the plush pillow as he massaged the spongy underside of your g-spot while thumbing at your sensitive clit. He chuckles out a raspy laugh, hooking beckoning motions against you while circling your glistening bud. 

“Oh, but you’d like that,” he growled into your face, the scent of menthol and tobacco wafting over your face from his cool breath. “You're not a cadet, you're not an officer, you're a fucking commander,” his pace quickened, your nipples puckering and your breasts bouncing with every harsh jolt from him, “My fucking commander.”

Feeling the rapid approach of your release had your walls flutter and contract around him. You attempted to withhold the orgasm, biting down on your tongue just as the coil began to tighten within your body. 

He immediately withdrew his hand, pulling it out and giving your thigh a harsh slap. You cry out in frustration, both craving release and ashamed that he knew how close you were. Eyes meeting, he arched his brow up at you while noticing a foreign emotion dance over your face. His eyes widen and he immediately laughs down at you. 

“Oh, Commander,” he taunts you, raising his hand back up to hover over your clit, “You've never been denied a damn thing in your life, have you?” He gently and slowly pressed on the tip of your clit, rubbing sweet circles gently enough into you to hold you on the edge without allowing your release to teeter over. 

Pouting in response to his question, he opens his mouth with an expression of sick joy at this new information. He gently cupped your slickened heat with his hand, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit and causing your hips to involuntary attempt to rock beneath the cage of his body. 

“Oh, you're such a spoilt brat, aren't you?” he taunts you, removing his hand and hovering it over your heat just as you feel yourself begin to contract around nothing. “Nuh-uh. No fuckin’ way.” He chuckled at you, gently removing his left knee from caging your hip and using it to spread open your legs further. 

You attempt to wriggle beneath him, desperate for stimulation and attempting to break out of his grip to no avail. He slowly leans over you and studies your flushed face, sweat pooling at your temples and breath shaking. 

“Oh, this is gonna be fun,” he growled possessively, pressing his lips on your jaw and slowly kissing down to your pulse. “Guess what, brat.” He whispered, pressing a final kiss against your neck before bringing his eyes back up to meet yours. “You're not gonna cum ‘til you beg me for it.”

A soft squeak pulled itself from your throat as he moved his right knee to join with his left between your legs. Parting your legs with a hand on your left thigh and leaning into your right with his weight, he gently danced his fingers against the sticky arousal glistening at your entrance. 

“I don't beg, Smoker,” you bit back, whimpering as he gently thumbed at your clit in lazy circles, “I don't-... fuck-... I don't do that. I won't beg.”

“Oh, but you will,” he hummed his taunt down at you, dragging your wrists down and pinning them at the pit of your stomach as he maneuvered his body down between yours, “You’ll be crying, begging and pleading for me to let you cum.” He nudges your thigh with his shoulder, the other pushed back by his hand up to your waist

“If you haven’t already figured it out by now,” he murmured against your stomach, looking up at you with danger in his expression, “You’re about to learn just how cruel I can be when my underlings are acting out of line.” He lulls his head to the side and stares lovingly at your aroused center, "Especially when my favorite one handed in their resignation today, completely unwarranted." His breath brushes over your core as a small smile spreads across his lips.

His head dips down, his tongue licking a teasing stripe from your slit to your clit, paying attention to the pearly bud before coming away. You arch your back and tug at your hands, your core rocking against his lips involuntarily to chase that high he’d been teasing you with. 

Snickering, he releases your hands and uses the opportunity to press your thighs up into your chest, spreading your pussy open to gawk with his eyes glazed at the mess already pooling at your core. He immediately dived in, his brute strength anchoring you down to the bed.

Bobbing and weaving his head, his flattened tongue rakes intentional circles against your clit before surging forward and latching onto the sensitive tip with his lips puckered and mouthing at your most intimate nerve. Just as you felt the rise of waves pool at the floodgates of bliss, he pulls away from your body with a crude 'pop'.

“You're a prick,” you curse at him, immediately flopping back on the blankets beneath you. Drawing your hands up to your face, you gently shriek into your digits as you feel him blow on your pussy. Your walls begin to contract from heightened sensitivity, but he refuses to usher you into release. 

Just as you feel yourself slip away from the orgasm he was teasing you with, his tongue continues to explore your core, licking deeply and enjoying the little mewls and whines escaping your mouth. His hands press your thighs further up into your chest, caressing the flesh and molding them in his palms.

“You don’t mean that, brat,” he growled in a rumbled taunt up at you, “Not when I can make you feel this good.” He dives back in, flicking his tongue skillfully around your clit and gently sucking on the pearly bud. 

You whimper at his tongue grinding against you, feeling your arousal begin to draw higher and urge closer towards bliss. His tongue laps closer to your slit, bobbing and spreading your nectar over your pussy and humming against you. 

“I-... nmmmg-...” you bit your index finger and shook your head in frustration, “...I can get this from anyone. You're n-not special,” You huff in defiance, feeling how skilled he was, has your words feeling hollow and baseless. 

“Oh, you can, can you?” He chuckles at your words. His knowing tone had you bite back your frustration as he pulled away one more time. You growl in fury, leaning up and glaring at him as he withheld your release. “You're not in any position to say I'm not special. Look how fucking wet you are, how fucking close you are.”

He released one of your thighs, cupping your mound harshly before pulling away and giving it a scolding slap. You cry out your shock, hearing the sinful squelch of your juices meeting his hand. 

Without further warning, he hooks your knees over his shoulders and buries his face deep against you. He plunged his tongue into your entrance while grinding his nose against your clit. Your hands immediately shot down and carded your fingertips through his hair. 

His tongue continues to explore your depths, feeling your walls begin to clench around his tongue as you feel the pit in your abdomen about to burst with the tension snapping. Regardless of how hard you were pressing his face into you, and how firmly your thighs caged his face against your cunt, he still pulled away as you were on the edge of ecstacy. 

“Nope,” he chuckles, gently pressing a taunting kiss against your clit, “Not until you beg for it.” You scream behind your lips, the raspy cry catching in your throat as he withdrew from your pussy. 

“F-Fuck you, Smoker,” you whined, feeling tears begin to prick in the corners of your eyes at how much pleasure your body was enduring by his skilled hands, face and tongue. He chuckled at you, pressing another kiss against your clit before harshly flicking his tongue in a stiff point over the sensitive bud. 

“Still not gonna beg? Tsk,” he clicked his tongue in disdain before surging forward and latching on the bud. His middle and unity fingers found your slit, dancing on the edge of the border and teasing you with scissoring motions. Releasing your clit with a soft ‘pop’ he looked up at you through his eyelashes. 

“I have all fuckin’ day,” he purred at you, gently inching his fingers into your slit, “I even cleared my night shift, and my day tomorrow to teach you this fuckin’ lesson.” Your eyes widen and you attempted to stifle a whimper as he curls his digits past the second knuckle back to brush with your g-spot again. “I can go all damn night and well into the morning, keepin’ you right here...” He trails off, feeling the squeeze of your walls attempt to hold him within you, but he immediately pulls away. 

The cruelty of your superior was unmatched. He continued staring at you as your sweat dampened your hair, a few strands falling into your face and sticking to your skin like epoxy on ceramic. Smoker’s taunt kept your mind vacant of all other thoughts than proving him wrong, but his predatory look and playful fire in his smile had you truly want to give in. 

“Can’t deceive me, baby,” he growls at you, staring down at how your body is begging on behalf of your mouth to withdraw from your stubbornness. “I can read you like a book. I can tell when you’re gonna cum, and I’ll keep pullin’ away until you beg me to keep going.” 

He dives back down, his tongue flick against your bud while his fingers return to you in a cruel piston. You throw your head back while involuntarily reaching down and tugging his head closer and rock your hips against his face. Smiling against your pussy, he hums as he tastes more of your gushing juices coating his lips, tongue and chin. 

The dancing tingles in your toes begin to ignite and shoot sparks up to your core, your breath hitching and moans becoming louder with every movement. Your jaw falls slack as saliva begins to pool from your lips as he brings you all the closer to ecstasy. You clench around his fingers and he smiles against your clit, halting his tongue and holding his fingers in a cruel, unmoving, curl against your g-spot.

“Gonna say ‘please’ yet, Commander?” he taunted you. You choked back a sob, shaking your head. He sighed in frustration, his lips still curling into a soft smile. “Oh, you poor thing. Only thing standing between you and cumming is using your fuckin’ words. Not gonna?” A heavy tear fell away from your eyes, the humiliation of having to ask your superior officer for release causing you to suffer more than enduring the pleasure he was pressing into you. 

“You-... You're an asshole. Just-...” he lulls his head to the side, pressing a gentle kiss against your thigh and feigning innocence up at you. You bite back a frustrated whimper and furrow your brows as you look down at him, “I’m not gonna beg. I won’t beg.” 

“Have it your way, then,” he said with a soft shrug, pressing another kiss to your thigh before immediately plunging his fingers back into your slippery heat and rapidly pistoning his digits in and out of your slit. You bite the urge to scream, feeling the heavy waves of your orgasm beginning to harshly approach you. 

Just as soon as you felt the call of release, he withdrew just as hastily as he began. You sobbed, sucking your lips into your mouth and whimpering back your plea. You refused to give in and plead for him to end the torment, your body betraying you and contracting in need.

“All you have to do is beg for it, and I’ll let you have it,” he whispered against your heat, slowly exhaling over your slick and teasing you with his breath, “I know you want to. You know you want to. Let me tip you over the edge. Give in to me and fuckin’ beg.” His tongue begins to flick across your pussy in a soft tease.

His tongue dives back in and begins to lick a sensual stripe deep and hard within you. Your legs begin to shake and shudder around him as you contain your restraint and refuse to give in. Just as you are ushered into an eruption of ecstasy, his smile hovers over your clit and licks a soft flattened flick over your pearly bud. 

“Y-You're gonna make me-...” His tongue hovers over your clit while his lips frame the hood, gently coaxing you by mouthing at your sensitive flesh. This is the closest he��d edged you to, and you almost tip over the sizzling line of utopia. 

“Beg now,” he muffles his barked order into your pussy, holding you just on the edge enough to have you scream. Looking down, you growl at witnessing his cocky smirk, possessive eyes, and his hands holding you so close to the edge. Your lip quivers and your glassy eyes look down as a figure of both craving and complete innocence. 

“D-Don't-...” You attempt to bark at him not to pull away, the fire beginning to grow in the pit of your belly, “Don’t you fucking dare stop, Smoker.” He chuckled at you, holding his motions steady and refusing to tip you over. 

“Then beg for me. I want to hear you say it.” He taunted you, his resolve holding firm and his eyes daring you to attempt to withhold your desires further, “Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me.” His fingers keep dancing a light pattern on your clit, just enough to keep you near the edge but nowhere near enough to make you finish.

Just as he begins to pull away, you pout back your defiance and snake your hand down your stomach in a bid to release yourself of the torment and usher your body into the orgasm he’s been denying you for so long. Catching your hands, he growls at you and pins your wrists on the side of the bed harshly. 

“No fuckin’ way,” he barks at you with an angry scoff, “Not a snowball’s chance in the realms of hell.” He firmly grips your wrists to emphasize his gruff scolding, “Not gettin’ any release until you beg me for it.” 

You bite back a soft sob, desperately trying to draw his head closer to your needy center with your thighs caging his head. He shoulders back your thighs, spreading your legs and presenting you up to him with ease. 

“Please.”

That soft whisper has a swell of pride rise in his chest, his mind gathering heavier in foggy gratification, and thrilled at the subtle petition to reign you towards your climax. He chuckles against you, slowly kissing the dip where your thigh meets your groin. 

“What was that, Commander?” he trailed a line of kisses from over your lower lips and urged his face closer to your glistening core, “You say something?” You tug against his hands, your eyes beginning to glaze over with glassy tears falling over your lash line. 

“Please, Smoker. Please, I c-can’t take it anymore,” you whimper, your bottom lip quivering as you sob out your supplication. “Please make me cum. P-Please. Please, I can’t-... I can’t-...” Your brows furrow in the center of your forehead and you clench your eyes tightly shut. 

“There you go. Was that so hard?” he chuckled against your core, releasing your wrists and drawing them up to his head. Your chest heaves as you continue to cry in frustration at the denial he tormented you with. 

“Alright, alright. Easy, now,” he soothes you, lacing his hands within your fingers over the backs of your hands and eases your digits into his hair. “I’ll get you there, just hold on. Trust me.” You whimpered and bit your lip as he withdrew his hands from your own. 

Holding your thighs steady, he spread your lips with his thumbs and immediately dove back into your glistening center. You huffed and panted, balling his silvery hair into heaped fistfuls and gently rocking with each skilled motion of his tongue. He grappled your thigh in his left hand, holding it firmly against his shoulder and joined his right in stimulating your core. 

His tongue traveled up to mouth at your clit, romancing it with his attention, while his fingers began hooking within your body and scissor against your spongy g-spot. Smiling against your core, his eyes rolled back as he began to feel the contractions of your walls suck his fingers in deeper. 

“I’m g-gonna-... I’m gonna c-c-...” you confess, your thighs tightening around his head and your back arching off the mattress. He anchors your thigh against his shoulder as he continues to piston and curl his fingers within your walls, beckoning the barrier of bliss to crumble and fall with each motion. His tongue and lips continue to latch onto your clit and heighten your peek.

“Mm-hmm,” he muffled into you, the hum shooting a vibrational quiver like lightning through your body. You reached behind your head and clasped the pillow behind your head while you continued to hold his head in the other. 

Right on the edge of ecstasy, your body desperately gives into the craving of release. He hums against you, nodding and urging you to use his face and hand to finally give in. His eyes never leave your face as your brows, eyes and lips begin to contort in immediate gratification. 

Writhing against his face, he experiences the full brunt of the withheld orgasm as you gush your slick against his jaw and fingers. The longevity of the orgasm lasts what feels like a lifetime, the waves of chaos intertwining with the finality of achieving release after being denied for so long has your tears flowing freely down your cheeks. 

As you ride and coast through your orgasm, you flop your back onto the mattress and gently move your hand from gripping his hair to cradling his cheek. He presses another soft kiss against your clit as he retracts his fingers from your slit, the pearl twitching in oversensitivity as you shudder. Catharsis overcomes you as you move your forearm to cover your eyes, hiding you from his teasing gaze. 

“See? All you had to do was beg for it,” he whispered, gently nuzzling his face against your thigh to rid his stubbled chin of your arousal. “I’m not such a bad boss, am I?” You attempt to laugh through your sobs, prompting him to slink through your legs and hover over your face. 

“Let me see those eyes, hm?” he nudged your forearm with his head, gently cooing down at you to have you open up to him. You reluctantly pulled your forearm away, your initial glare falling away as you rounded your eyes and looked up at him through your eyelashes. “There you are,” he sighed, gently brushing his nose with yours and smiling down at you. 

“All this because I didn’t put my request for a transfer in the right paperwork pile?” you pouted at him, prompting him to drop his smile and tense in soft shock. 

“You think that’s what this is about? Paperwork?” he asked you, his frown deepening as he drew himself closer to you. “No, you little shit. It’s because you wanted to leave me in the first place.” Your lip quivered as you attempted to withhold both another sob and your growing smile. 

“You’re always so fucking mean to me, why would I want to stay?” you ask him, his body weight offering you warmth and security in your nudity. He gently caressed your hair and studied your face. 

“I’m mean to you because I want you to be the best,” he whispered dotingly. Gently pressing his lips to your temple, he held you beneath him, “You’re already a far better commander than I ever was, and I want so much more for you.” His steady heartbeat and gentle breaths coax you into a sense of peace within his embrace. 

After holding you there for a few moments, he pulled back to gaze once more into your eyes. You looked up at him with puzzlement.

“And you thought edging me was the best way to get me to fall back in line and stay here?” you scoff at him, looking up dangerously into his face. He smirked in response, nudging your nose up with his chin affectionately.

“Not the best way, no,” he admitted to you with a soft laugh, “But it gives me the opportunity to express how I feel about you while I make sure you know where your fuckin’ place is.” You roll your eyes at him in response, turning your face away from his dangerous gaze.

“Oh?” you taunt him with defiance dripping from your tone, “And where is my place, Vice-Admiral? Enlighten me.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your neck.

“It’s right here,” he whispered, pressing another kiss higher up to your jaw, “Beneath me.” His lips trace a little higher up, pressing a gentle caress against your chin, “In every way, Commander.” He coaxes you to face him, hovering his lips over yours and gazing possessively into your eyes. 

“You’re mine.”

[mozaicstudio]

ICAD 2024, Day 14!

Lavender with watercolors and watercolor markers.

[booniehatman]

Day 8

I made a comic for this day's prompt! This is how April's crush on Alan started out. The more kind things Alan did for her, the bigger her crush on him got. He helped her through her problems and loneliness and helped her become the optimistic cheery person she is today.

[kentnaturaltribrid]

“The thief shouts to frighten the hell out of his victim.”