#30-day writing challenge

[jerzwriter]

Off the Beaten Path

Book:                   Open Heart

Pairing:                Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee)

Rating:                 Teen

Category:            Fluff

Summary:   Getting stuck in traffic on the way back to Boston teaches Ethan that sometimes detours are the best things of all.

Words: 813

A/N: Day 7 of @creativepromptsforwriting 's 30-Day Writing Challenge: Use the words: small town, bar, jukebox. Also participating in @choicesjanuarychallenge Day 13 - It's sort of Sunny and Grump :)

Ethan x Kaycee Masterlist 30-Day Writing Challenge Masterlist

It was a late August afternoon, and Ethan and Kaycee found themselves driving on a country road somewhere in Pennsylvania. Ethan decided to get off the highway to avoid traffic some time ago, even though Kaycee told him they were bound to lose their GPS signal. But why should he listen to the Pennsylvania native? Now, she was doing all she could to suppress her giggling as she watched him coming undone.

“Siri! Get us back to I-95!!!!”

His exasperation was compounding as he yelled at the robotic device for the umpteenth time.

“One second….”

His hands clenched around the leather of the steering wheel, his knuckles almost white.

“Still searching….”

“Oh, this thing is….” a trail of barely intelligible curses followed.

“I’m sorry, nothing was found; please try again later.”

Kaycee turned away from him as he palmed the wheel, unable to contain herself anymore.

“And what, exactly, do you find so amusing?” He growled, attempting to prove something (though no one knew what); he tried to stay angry. But it wasn’t an easy task when she was so adorable.  

“There’s no GPS signal. I told you it would happen, and Siri’s told you four times. So, who is the foolish one here?” She grinned.

“Is it wrong that I expect things to work as they’re meant to?”

“No, but things aren’t always within our control,” she shrugged. “Besides, it’s nice to get off the beaten path sometimes. You never know what you find.”

“Really? What exactly should I be looking for.”

“A place to eat! I’m starving!”

“There are granola bars in the glove compartment.”

Kaycee rolled her eyes so hard she thought he might hear them. “I also have to pee. So granola bars aren’t going to help me.”

 “You’re impossible,” he chuckled through a good-natured sigh.

“Yes. I’m so sorry you have an eating, peeing girlfriend, Ethan,” she teased. “Clearly, you settled. Now, why don’t we go there?” She pointed to a little ramshackle building in the distance. “that place looks good.”

“Good?” He questioned. “Besides, it’s a bar.”

“Bar and GRILL, Ethan. You’re not in Boston anymore. Now pull over; I’m sure it will do fine.”

~~~~

The dimly lit, one-room dive looked like something out of a honky tonk movie, and while Kaycee looked intrigued, Ethan was aghast.

“Stop acting like you’re from the Brahmin, Ramsey,” she laughed, taking his arm. “I know where you grew up.”

“Fine,” he said, slipping into the wooden booth. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve been in a place like this.”

“It’s not so bad,” she shrugged. “Kind of takes me back to my childhood.”

“Kaycee… you grew up in Philadelphia.”

“Yes, but you forget, I spent summers with my grandparents on their farm, and they lived in a small town just like this.”

“I forget you’re so diversified,” he smiled.

“The best way to be!”

Fifteen minutes later, Ethan groaned with delight as he bit into a juicy cheeseburger.

“Still wish you were back on I-95?” Kaycee mocked.

“This is the best burger I’ve ever had!”

“Hmmm… and at a fraction of the price we’d pay in Boston. Sometimes we have to be happy that life takes us to unexpected places.”

His face softened as he reached over to wipe a bit of ketchup from her chin.

“You think I would have learned that lesson by now. I mean, look at us.”

“Exactly,” she beamed. “Look at us.”

When the meal was over, Ethan was no longer in a hurry to get back on the road, and Kaycee had the perfect solution.

“Let’s drop some dimes in the jukebox, and we can dance a little to work off the burgers.”

“Dance?” he asked, looking at her as if she had two heads.

“Yes, that thing we do with our feet….”

“I know what dancing is, Rookie! I just don’t know if I know how to do the kind of dancing one does here.”

Once again, she rolled her eyes as she grabbed her wallet from her purse. “It’s a two-step, love. If you managed to graduate med school, I think you can pick this up relatively easily.”

“Totally different skillset required.”

He startled when Kaycee fell into his lap, throwing her hands around his neck and lavishing him with kisses. 

“Dr. Ramsey, haven’t I proven the point already? Live a little. God, you’re so lucky you found me. I hate to think of what a boring old man you would have grown to be.”

“Hmm… and now you’re just aging me rapidly instead.”

“And that’s why we’re going to two-step,” she winked, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor. “Keeping those joint limber… for other things.”

He let out a snort with an impish grin adorning his face. “You know what, I’ll agree with you on one thing. I sure am lucky I met you.”

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @fayeswiftie @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @kingliam2019 @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

30-Day Challenge: @mydemonsdrivealimo

Tagging others seperately

[alchemiasart]

30-day writing challenges?

Now that March is almost here, it's time to think about my 30-day writing challenges because April is coming up fast. Back in November of 2023, I managed to crank out 30 short stories in 30 days. (Okay, it was actually 28 stories, and then the 29th on December 1st, and now I'm still finishing up the last one, but it's a happy tear-jerker, don't judge, those are really hard to write.)

Point is, the 30-day thing really got my creative juices flowing, my test readers loved them, and I think I could pump out a lot of excellent work if I only let myself write fiction... *whispers, "thirty days hath September, April, June, and November..."* FOUR TIMES A YEAR.

(I'm also in grad school, so I write a lot anyway, but not on these topics, obvs.)

But, of course, I also want people to read my work, and it'd be nice to be able to afford food on occasion.

I know there aren't a lot of you out there right now reading this, but what's your input? Does anyone else (good) do challenges like this? Is it worth it to share the stories as I go along, knowing they'll be disqualified from traditional publishing? Should I just go with "fuck traditional publishing" anyway?

FYI, the November 2023 story was a cycle of short stories about cryptids in daily life, but they're kind of a palidrome cycle: the first fifteen introduce characters, and sixteen through thirty resolve those stories in reverse order (#15 gets resolved in #16, #14 gets resolved in #17, and so forth). Does anyone wanna read those? What are your favorite platforms for reading short stories and supporting your favorite authors?

[adreamingskin]

Poetry Competitions, Submissions & Opportunities – MARCH 2023

Over 150 #poetry competitions, literary journal submissions and writing opportunities, open or with deadlines in March 2023. Best of luck and please share! #amwriting

Spring is on the way and with it over 160 poetry competitions, writing submissions and opportunities open or with deadlines in March 2023! Looking forward to April — National Poetry Writing Month — I’ll be bringing the drama with a brand new 30-day writing challenge, drawing inspiration from the heroes, villains, beasts and beauties of the Ancient Greek myths and legends. These tales of power,…

[bakuliwrites]

Day One- Gale of Waterdeep

500 Follower Event, 30 Day Writing Prompts Prompt: Relic, Tender, Petrichor, Gale (BG3) Pairing: Gale x Reader Tags: Fluff, Kisses, Cuddling, Slightly Suggestive, Gale Route Spoilers, BG3 Spoilers Word Count: 741

Gale’s dark eyes sweep languidly across the page, no doubt committing to memory the poetic verses written within. You watch from the doorway, comfortably warm in the threshold between cozy library and chilly balcony, a mug of tea slowly cooling in your hands. It brings joy to your heart to see Gale this relaxed. He’s reclined in a loveseat, dressed in his usual soft sleeping clothes and donning a pair of new slippers. The book he’s absorbed in is tome-like in appearance: leather-bound, some sort of ancient relic etched in gold leaf on the cover, a hefty clasp hanging loosely on the edges. You smile to yourself as Gale cautiously turns an onion-skin page, brows furrowed in concentration as he scans the next verse. 

With a small sigh, you lean against the doorframe, looking out to the churning sea beyond. There is something deeply nourishing about your days in Waterdeep. Perhaps it’s the way light rushes across the surface of the sea on clear days, sun glinting brilliantly in the sky, seagulls calling out to one another on the drifting ocean breeze. Maybe it’s the twinkling stars mirrored on the water at night, waves crashing gently to shore and the world silent as can be. It could be the hustle and bustle of the town around you, the familiar sounds of a peaceful life you’d almost forgotten in your adventuring days. Or perhaps it’s the unwavering gentility, the steadfast adoration of the wizard before you. 

Gale catches you staring, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight at the sight of you. 

“Care to join me?” his voice breaks through your silent musing, eyes softening when you meet his gaze, “Books are always better with company.” 

“Of course,” you return, for how could you refuse such an invitation? You abandon your mug on the coffee table, shivering when a gust of wind brushes through the balcony. With it comes a pleasant whiff of petrichor and brine, a scent you’ll probably forever associate this tranquil afternoon with. 

“Darling, you’re freezing,” Gale worries, shifting in his spot to give you room to lay next to him. The loveseat is hardly big enough for two, but all the more reason to cuddle, you think to yourself. And that was most certainly Gale’s plan, for as soon as you sit down, he draws you into his warm embrace. He’s quick to take one of your freezing hands in his, drawing it to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. He warms it with his breath before sneaking in another kiss to your palm.

“Better?” he ventures, a gentle beam breaking through the gloomy grey of the afternoon. 

“Much,” you softly chuckle, letting your forehead rest against his. This moment is suspended in time, the balcony suddenly a realm of its own. Beyond the soft sound of Gale’s exhales, you can hear a drizzle of rain pitter-pattering on the rooftop, droplets bouncing off the railing and landing in tiny ripples on the water’s surface below. Gale holds your hand to his chest, his other arm drawing you close. Beneath your fingertips is the velvety texture of his shirt, the gentle thrum of his heart. This is nourishment in its purest form: Gale Dekarios, his love silently enveloping you, body and soul. 

You angle yourself to better reach his lips, pressing a tender kiss to them, lingering for a long while. Gale’s tongue softly traces the part in your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair. He moves to press tiny kiss after kiss against your cheeks, eyelids, and jawline. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, when he dips to give some much needed attention to your neck, “You can keep reading if you’d like. I don’t want to interrupt you.”

Gale’s book is long abandoned somewhere on the loveseat. You suspect he might be sitting on it, far too engrossed in you to pay attention to the tome digging into his leg. 

A small chuckle reverberates through Gale’s chest when you inadvertently gasp, his lips ghosting down to your collarbone.

“You’ve well and thoroughly distracted me, my darling,” he admits, “I’d much rather you be the subject of my studies this dreary afternoon.”

“Then you are easily distractible,” you return with an impish smirk. Gale quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Or is it that you and your irresistible charm are incredibly distracting?” he teasingly returns, laughing as he pulls you closer and lays his lips to yours once again.

A/N: I adore Gale. Honestly, I adore all of the companions in BG3. And many of the NPC's haha. I want to write more for him, so maybe a fic in the future? Time permitting, of course. Thank you for reading! Up next in this event will be Portia Devorak from The Arcana!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Learning About the Perks of Feminism

Photo from @fromjjwithlove blog

Summary: Y/N wants Soldier Boy badly. But she wants him on her terms. Can he handle her modern ways?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Pretty much all smut. Some tiny bit of plot. Soldier Boy being a grumpy asshole, Unprotected PinV sex, pull-out method of BC used, coming on tits, oral, m/f receiving, face riding. Fluff if you squint.

Pairings: Soldier Boy x Y/N

Word Count: 2,620

A/N: So, I’ve decided to do all 30 of these writing prompts. I may miss a day here and there, but I’m going to try to do one a day, and I will be completing all 30 no matter what.  They won’t always be in order.  This fic will be for the prompt: Write about your MC nicknames. I took some liberty with this prompt, but they do talk about what he want's Y/N to call him.

I will be putting together a Masterlist for all 30 prompts and adding it to my main Masterlist.

A/N 2: This post is the inspiration for this fic. The amazing @deanswaywardgirl deserves so much credit for spurring on my horny brain with an amazing smutty scenario. And @candy-coated-misery0731 deserves all the credit for encouraging the writing of this fic. So, you owe any smutty happiness this fic brings you, to those two lovelies! 😄😄

Both beautiful text dividers, both below and at the bottom, were created by @firefly-graphics

"We'll be back in just a few hours, love."

Butcher patted Y/N on the shoulder and then whispered in her ear. "Try to watch him, make sure he doesn't go nuclear, but if he looks ready to do some damage, you get your sweet ass the fuck outta here, yeah?"

Soldier Boy pressed a button on the remote before speaking in the driest of tones.

"You know, my hearing is super too, you limey fuck." He leveled a look at Butcher and Billy straightened to his full height.

"Fine, I'll say it plain then. Hurt one hair on her head and Supe or not, deal or not, I'll rip your fuckin' heart out."

Y/N rolled her eyes. Since the moment the Boys took her on as part of the team, Butcher had tucked her under his wing like a mama bird. He refused to accept that she'd been surviving on the streets and working within the underground network of criminals since she was thirteen years old, and more than a dozen years on, she could certainly take care of herself.

She looked over at Soldier Boy and saw a spark of humor in his eyes as he looked up at Butcher, no doubt contemplating how quickly he could crush him if he wanted to, especially given that Butcher was currently V-free.

But he merely gave Butcher a smirk and went back to the TV, frowning at a commercial for men's exfoliating body scrub.

"Jesus fuck," he mumbled, "whatever happened to a fuckin bar of soap?"

Y/N turned back to Butcher and patted his arm. "I'll be fine. You guys be careful." When he still hesitated she stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "Go on, Hughie's waiting."

He flushed slightly and left the room.

Y/N sat back down on the couch, and as Soldier Boy engrossed himself in the wide and varied choices offered by the modern television landscape, she took the opportunity to finally really look at him.

Hughie and Butcher had shown up at her motel room door a couple hours earlier with a nuclear superhero in tow.  Y/N had been surprised to say the least, but after her first glimpse of him, she’d been avoiding looking directly at the Supe for too long at once. It felt a little like looking into the sun. From what little she knew about Soldier Boy, he seemed like an old school asshole, but god damn the devil came in a beautiful package.

Hughie had run to a Walmart nearby and grabbed him clothes he thought would fit, a plain white tank top, grey sweats, and a short-sleeved, NY Giants jersey.

They were plain, simple, clothes, but on Soldier Boy they were the hottest things Y/N had ever seen.  The way the jersey pulled tight across his broad, powerful shoulders and wide, muscled chest, made Y/N feel like she might start drooling at any moment. Also, the way the round, open collar exposed the long column of his throat and his bold, defined clavicle bones, gave Y/N the desire to lick and bite at his tanned, lightly freckled skin.

The lightweight grey sweats were loose and baggy, and she was almost positive he wasn't wearing underwear. When he'd been walking around earlier, the thin material had clung to his round, plump ass like a second skin and there had been something that hung long and low in the front that made her mouth water, imagining just what it could be. Maybe it had simply been a trick of the light, but she seriously doubted that.

His body was powerful, radiating a kind of strength that was simply entrancing. But she still thought his face might be even more attractive. His hair was longish and soft, and had a tendency to fall into his eyes, which gave him a boyish air that suited his superhero name. His beard was trimmed close, soft-looking, making Y/N's fingers itch to touch it.

His eyes were usually a mossy green, but sometimes, depending on the light, they seemed to shine like emeralds. They were absolutely stunning and, Y/N felt as though it would be easy to be pulled in by them, and lose yourself.

If his eyes were angelic, his mouth was all sin. It screamed of carnal delights and promised hours of bliss. Staring at him now, she had no trouble imagining his mouth swollen and wet from licking and sucking pleasure into her skin. Her body tensed and her pussy clenched.

She was so lost in her imaginings that she jumped when Soldier Boy's deep voice pulled her back to reality. He continued to stare at the TV as he spoke.

"You know one of my other abilities is a super keen sense of my surroundings. Which means that I'm hyper aware when someone is watching me."

He finally turned to face her, pinning her down with his gaze. After a minute he gave her a smirk. "Like what you see, pretty thing?"

Y/N scoffed even as her stomach flipped. "Do lines like that usually work?"

For a second he looked like he was going to get mad, but then he just shrugged. "Yeah, they do.” He frowned. “Or they used to. Women have changed a lot from what I can tell.”

Y/N smiled. “Well, we’ve decided we like our independence. And we don’t like chauvinist assholes telling us what to do.”

Soldier Boy’s frown turned darker, and Y/N wondered if she was being incredibly stupid.

Deciding that fortune favored the bold, she got up and strode over to where he was sitting on the side of the bed, one leg stretched out in front of him, the other braced on the floor.

She quickly straddled his lap and relished the look of shock on his face. She ground her cunt down against the hard bulge that confirmed her suspicions of a huge dick and no underwear.

Soldier Boy groaned loudly and his breathing came fast and harsh. He clamped his hands hard on her hips, keeping her immobile.

"Jesus Christ! Are all women this horny and aggressive nowadays?"

Y/N shook her head. "No, not all of us. But like I said, we like our independence, and we go after what we want. And I definitely want you. In spite of the cheesy lines and the knowledge that you could crush me like a bug if you wanted to, I still want you.  We've only got a couple hours on our own and who knows when this chance will be in front of me again. So," she thrust her hands into his hair and pulled his head back slightly. "Like what you see, pretty thing?" She echoed back to him.

His eyes had become hooded with desire, as he looked deep into her eyes. "I don't know, I usually like to be in charge." He said, in a voice that made a shiver run through her as she imagined letting him take over. She suspected he would be very good at being in charge.

But her defiant streak was strong and she wanted to keep in control.

"Trust me baby, Feminism has given us lots of rights and freedoms we deserve, but it's also helped us," she grabbed his cock through his thin sweats, "express our sexual freedoms."

She squeezed him gently and he threw his head back with a groan. She took the opportunity to lick up the length of his throat, and then nibble at the hinge of his jaw.

She moved her mouth to his ear and whispered to him. "Tell me, what name do you want me to scream out when I come? Soldier Boy or Ben? Or would you prefer, "Ooh, fuck me Big Daddy!"

He yanked her back from his ear so he could look at her closely. He studied her a minute and Y/N let a mischievous smile curl her lips so he'd know she was having fun. He shook his head, still a little upended by her boldness.

But eventually, he smiled too. "Just Ben, baby."

He pulled her mouth down to his in a wild and searing kiss. Just as she suspected, that wicked mouth was pure sin masquerading as paradise. His tongue was hard as it thrust into her mouth. He swallowed down her moans and wordless pleas as he ravaged her, lips sucking and biting.

Wanting some of the power back, she bit into his succulent bottom lip, dragging a ragged moan from his throat. She pulled back from the kiss and shoved his open jersey off his shoulders, leaving him in only his tank top.

She ran her hands over the thick, round, curve of his shoulders, and then pushed his undershirt up so she had access to all the smooth, flat muscles of his torso.

She tugged at his shirt. "Take this off." She ordered.  Looking as though he was participating in an experiment he wasn't too sure about, he reluctantly followed her demand.

But as soon as the shirt was gone she began kissing her way down his body. She paused when she reached his nipples, twirling her finger around the left one and teasing the right one with the tip of her tongue.

"Uhn, fuck!" Ben growled, and Y/N looked up to see him with his eyes closed, biting into his bottom lip. The sight made her moan and purr against his skin.

Fuck he was hot.

She felt his cock growing harder against her stomach and she couldn't wait any longer to feel it on her tongue. Her kisses reached his waistband and she grabbed hold of it.

He lifted his hips automatically and Y/N gasped as his cock popped free and fell against his stomach. Settling herself between his legs, she licked all the way up the underside of his dick, before dragging her tongue across his slit, lapping up the pre-cum that had gathered there.

She hollowed her cheeks and sucked the sensitive head of his cock into her mouth. She bobbed slightly on the very top, sucking and flicking her tongue back and forth. Ben jerked his hips and sank one of his hands into her hair.

"Jesus! Yes, good girl.  Fuck your mouth is perfect!"

Y/N moaned at his praise, letting the vibrations travel down his dick as she sank all the way to the base. She relaxed her throat so that she could fit his whole cock into her mouth.  Ben gathered her hair into a ponytail in his hand. "Look at me, pretty one. I wanna see your face while you're stuffed full of my cock."

Y/N looked up at him, pulling off and letting the spit and cum dribble down her chin before she sank back down on him.  After another minute or so Ben pulled her off his cock with a deep moan. Quickly he ripped off her t-shirt and bra, yanking down her jeans and underwear and tossing them to the side of the bed.

Then with complete ease, he picked her up and spun her around, so that she was facing away from him.  He laid down flat beneath her and pushed her forward so that her ass was higher.  Then, spreading her pussy wide with his thumbs, he licked a stripe up through her folds with his wide, hot tongue and Y/N screamed out her pleasure.

He spoke against her dripping wet heat. "This way we can both get what we need. After all what kind of man would I be if I let you do all the heavy lifting?"

Before she could respond to that, his mouth sank into her cunt, and Y/N grabbed hold of his dick, bobbing up and down on it while she writhed and shook against his face.

His beard was soft, but as he fucked her thoroughly with his mouth, even the soft hair began to leave a pleasant burn behind on the inside of her thighs. She was grateful she'd have a souvenir from him.

As she neared her climax, Ben slipped his hands around her ribcage and lifted her from a reclining position to sitting one, positioning her to sit more fully on his jaw. He licked up into her, pushing his hard tongue past her entrance before undulating it against her incredibly sensitive skin.  He sucked her clit into his mouth and then nibbled on it, sending Y/N tumbling, shaking and moaning over the edge.

But he didn't stop there. He was perfectly capable of holding her in that position, over his mouth, for as long as he wanted, and he kept her there, drinking up every drop she gave him through two more orgasms.

Finally he turned her to face him, and sat her on his lower abdomen, her drenched pussy leaving a wet spot. She reached behind her to stroke his long, thick cock that was running along the crack of her ass.

"Fuck me, Ben, please fuck me."

He chuckled slightly as he moved his fingers to rub against her clit.

"This position is all you, beautiful. You started this, you finish it."

Y/N refused to back down from the challenge he was giving her even though her limbs were wobbly and tired. She climbed onto his cock and slowly slid down onto it. She rode him hard and fierce, taking energy from every one of his guttural curses.

He raised his hands to her tits, squeezing them and rolling her nipples between his fingers. Before letting them fall back into place so he could watch them bounce as she rode him.

As she began to wane, not sure how much longer she could keep up the pace, Ben rolled her onto her back and began to piston his hips into her, shaking the entire bed frame and smashing the headboard into the wall.

He pulled out abruptly. His voice was harsh and ragged. "I don't have a rubber, so where do you want me to come?" He asked.

"Come on my tits." She said breathlessly, reaching out to pump his cock that was covered with her slick.

Ben reached down and slid two thick fingers deep into her cunt, curling them just right so that she came almost immediately. Ben took over, pumping his cock fast and watching Y/N's face as she cried out, pleasure cascading across her features. Her beautiful face, lips swollen and still wet with his cum was just the image he needed to push him into the abyss.

Bucking into his hand, he shot ropes of cum across Y/N's tits, milking his cock, as he listened to the satisfied moans and sighs that were coming from her lips. He fell forward on top of her, too spent to care about the mess he was creating on both their bodies.

The two of them dozed off for the better part of half an hour before Ben woke up and immediately scooped Y/N up. Still half asleep in his arms, she let out a shout of surprise as he turned on the shower and stepped them both into the warm spray.

He cleaned them both up quickly and then again carried Y/N out of the bathroom.

She rolled her eyes. "You know, I have legs. I can just walk."

Ben looked down at her seriously. "But your muscles are tired. Mine aren't, even a little, so why wouldn't you let me carry you?"

Y/N shrugged. "Part of that whole modern, doing things for ourselves, independence thing I was mentioning earlier."

It was Ben's turn to roll his eyes, but he set her on the ground. "Well, I don't know if I'll ever understand the whole women's lib thing."

He grinned and nodded towards the messy bed.

"But it sure has its perks!"

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.

@lyarr24

@siospins2

@impalaslytherin

@maggiegirl17

@akshi8278

@candy-coated-misery0731

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.)

@sunshineandwings86

@kazsrm67

@sexyvixen7

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well)

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

@awkward-and-indecisive

@maliburenee

@supernatural4life2022

@spn730015

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@kickingitwithkirk

@waywardbaby

@foxyjwls007

@deanwanddamons

@deandreamernp

@deanwithscissors

@myloversgone

@snowlovespie

@leigh70

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@fangirlxwritesx67

@charred-angelwings

@hopefuldreamers-world

@mysherlock221b

@jensensgotyoudean

@stixnstripesworld

@thoughts-and-funnies

@magssteenkamp

@norman1967

@princessmisery666

@eevvvaa

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy

@b-i-t-c-h-i-e

@twirpbunwarrior

@mysweetlittledesire

@waynes-multiverse

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@bernasaurus

@jensenslady79

[destinytober]

2023 prompt list is here! Take a trip through Destiny history starting Oct. 1 with a daily piece of art, writing or other creative expressions. Use #destinytober or #destinytober23 to have your work shared here.

Don't have time or ability to do a full 30 Day challenge? Use this list a chose one prompt for each five-day period instead.

✅ All skill levels welcome! ✅ Digital, traditional, 3D & crafts ✅ Writing ✅ Screenshot photography

Please don't: 🚫 A/I genned art 🚫 Gameplay S/treams 🚫 Fashion (Use #Driptober)

Previous years lists. Feel free to use one of these instead or mix and match between them all!

[anemoflower]

I made my own prompt list of a 30 Days OTP Challenge for selfships and oc x canon ships

If anyone wants to, you can use this list at any time you like, I hope it might be useful :> You can also skip, switch or use your own prompts if one of them is not fitting for your ship! Just have fun!

[This is a remake of a list I did back in 2017]

[blackwolfstabs]

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 26

SLEEPING IN

It's that time of the month again.

The clock passed 7:45 AM, and there was still no sign of Tara. Her class started at 8:35 AM, and it took her about 15 minutes to get there. Normally, she never got up past 7:30.

Today was different.

Sam gulped down the last of her medication and left the bathroom to make way to her sister’s room. The door was shut, no sound or any sign of activity coming from inside. So, instead of knocking, she went straight to turning the knob as quietly as she could and letting herself in. 

Tara was still under the covers, having them pulled all the way over her shoulders as she lay curled up. However, the notorious creak of the door opening made her peer up.

Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, not even open all the way as Sam observed them. “Hey,” she greeted softly, “You’re gonna be late, it’s past 7:45.” She approached the bedside.

But her little sister just shut her eyes again and buried half of her face into her pillow. “I don’t feel good, Sammy…” 

She sat down on the edge of the mattress and reached over to rub her back, softening her voice as she asked, “What’s going on?” She then moved her hand to tuck away the other’s messy, feathered bangs out of her face. “Do you feel sick?”

The younger Carpenter shook her head, still not opening her eyes. “My period…” she mumbled. “Cramps…”

“Mm.” She must’ve started it last night. Usually, they let each other know when the time-of-the-month starts, so they won’t accidentally snap and then erupt into a meaningless fight. “Did you start it last night?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Her older sister nodded and brushed her warm cheek with the back of her hand, before pulling the covers down a little. “I’ll go get you some medicine, and—”

She was cut off by a long, high-pitched whine that came from Tara, who yanked the blanket back up while stretching in a frustrated way. “Noooooo, I don’t wanna go to class, Sam!”

Sam had to bite back a laugh at how childish she looked turning over onto her stomach and twisting her face away—like if she was facing the other direction, then she wouldn’t be forced to go to school. “I didn’t say you had to go, Tara,” she chuckled, unable to hold it back. “I was just going to get you some medicine and the heating pad.”

Her sister huffed but seemed to drop the tantrum at this response. Her eyes opened a little to glance out of the corners. “You’re not going to make me go, even if I take medicine?” When they were kids, their mother would encourage them to take some medicine and push themselves to quote-unquote “get through the day,” when they didn’t feel well but didn’t have fever. She’d always hated that, and she knew Sam still lived by that, even though she had hated it too as a kid.

“Are you kidding? Even with medicine, period cramps suck,” the older replied. “I’m not gonna do you like Mom.” Her train-of-thought drew her to the same memories of when they were in their school-days. 

Tara actually managed a small smile at this, which made Sam return one before she stood up. “I’ll be right back. Do you need anything else?” 

A head-shake answered her and she dismissed herself to retrieve some Tylenol, a glass of water, and the heating pad. When she retreated to the bedroom, Tara had moved onto her back with one hand limp over her eyes and the other tucked beneath the covers, rubbing her lower abdomen. “Okay, Tara…” She set the cup and heating pad down on the bedside table, then brushed her little sister’s forehead softly. “Can you sit up for me to take this?”

Tara slid her hand off of her eyes and propped herself up on her forearms. She balanced her weight long enough to take the two pills, one at a time, and swallow them with a few gulps.

“Good girl,” Sam praised, before letting her lay down again. As she did so, she went to plug the cord of the heating pad into the wall, beneath the phone charger currently in place.

Tara was already grabbing the dark green pad to slip it beneath her blanket. Now, a little more awake from taking the medicine and navigating the topical remedy to her liking, she kept an eye on her big sister as she came around to situate the controlling section next to her. “Sam?”

She didn’t look up as she proceeded to set the temperature, “Mm-hmm?”

“Can you stay home with me?”

Sam’s dark eyes raised before her face did, a spark of concern flooding them faster than she could blink. But when the younger just blinked at her innocently, she decided it was her unstable hormones making her clingy side come out. “I’ve gotta go to work, baby,” she told her. When she saw her face drop into that small pout no one else could pull off, she caressed the side of her face, “I’ll call to check on you, okay? And you can text me whenever you want.” She brushed her thumb over her cheek, noting the disappointed sigh that came in response.

“‘Kay…”

Sam gave her a small smile and leaned down to place a loving kiss to her head. “Go back to sleep,” she whispered.

Tara nodded and closed her eyes, nuzzling herself into the comfort of her bed, while hugging the heating pad to her aching abdomen. Her sister’s footsteps then faded out of the room, which left her sighing again. It wasn’t that she needed Sam to be there with her. She was 21, she didn’t need a babysitter or someone to coddle her. It was just that she liked Sam’s attention, whenever she was sick or wasn’t feeling 100%. She liked to be held or hugged, or just to be near her. Call it a security or little-sister thing. That was just the way she was. Especially since they had mended what had been broken for so long back in Woodsboro. Here in New York, after defeating the last pair of Ghostfaces together, they had grown closer than ever and rarely, if ever, looked back on where they had been. 

Tara still remembered what it felt like when she realized Sam wasn’t coming home on her big sister’s 18th birthday, just like Sam remembered what it felt like to have her baby sister shout “Get the fuck out!” at her in that hospital room.

They never forgot any of it, but they did build a wall between then and now. And that’s what Tara relied on. Even in times like these, which were small and insignificant, considering she got her period every month. 

It was safe to say that there was a small crack in the wall they built that let the river that connected before-estranged, estranged, and never-again-estranged flow through, because their relationship tended to mirror what they had as kids more than it mirrored their growing-up-and-apart fate.

However, Tara’s hopes were unexpectedly lifted when she felt the bed shift behind her and a familiar, loving embrace wrap around her torso, overlaying the heating pad to hold it in place. She hadn’t heard Sam come back in the room, but she knew that touch better than anything. She felt her sister nuzzle the back of her head as she shifted closer with a content sigh. “Sam?”

“Hmm?”

For someone who was already up and about, Sam was warm against Tara, as if she’d been laying with her all along. “I thought you said you were going to work.”

Her big sister shrugged with a small scoff. “Fuck work,” she replied, “They don’t like me anyway…”

This made her chuckle and shuffle further under the covers. “What if they fire you?” 

“They won’t.” The smile that came across the other’s face was heard in her voice. “They may not like me, but they need me.”

The younger smiled too. “Well, look who’s so confident in herself,” she teased. 

Sam teased her back, “What? I mean, I can still go, if you’ve change your mind.” She began to pull her securing arm away. “Would you rather me leave?”

But her sister pinned it before it could leave her side. “No, no, stay,” she giggled, tugging her arm back to where it was. “I was just playing.”

“I know,” Samantha’s smile stuck around as she picked her head up to kiss her sibling’s and then settled back down again. “So was I.” She let her eyes close as Tara sighed happily and traced her small fingers over her hand that guarded the pad beneath the blankets. “Now, get some rest, my love. I may not be going to work, but I can’t stay here all day.”

Tara nodded. “Okay. But you go to sleep, too.”

“You first.”

She let her hand go limp over her older sister’s and sank into her pillow. “Thank you, Sammy. I love you.”

Sam brushed her nose into her hair, taking in her thick, calming scent that had already crowded her olfactory senses from being in her bed. “I love you too, Tara.”

happy thanksgiving everyone! i hope you all had a great time with your family, friends, or whoever you spent it with. i'm very thankful for all the things i have and are able to do, in these fearful times. thank you all for your support and love. i'm very thankful to have you and be apart of this community.

All my best! ♡ - parker

[topsyturvy-turtely]

an almost whisper

prompt "whisper" by @onesmallfamily

highly inspired by this gif by @phoenix27884:

a/n: hey! i wanted to at least do ONE prompt of the 30 day sherlock september challenge. here is my ficlet of yesterday, because seriously- i fell asleep while writing it 😅

ps: so sorry bout the no uppercase letters, as said i was very tired for half of this (and lazy for the second)

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sherlock was sitting across from him. from john watson. what a gorgeous man he was. gray silky hair - combed back, a dark blue jumper that looked ridiculously endearing on him... his doctor hadn't had time to shave this morning and sherlock was currently trying to gauge how many colour shades you could see in john's beard. one, two, three...

the beard moved. well not the beard itself but the lips that sat between the beard.

what would it feel like to-

"sherlock, did you hear me?"

the asked man raised his eyebrows. had he heard him? "still caught up on the case, i fear."

"you solved it. what's there to think about?"

his john. asking just the right questions. unfortunately they were rather uncomfortable right this moment, considering sherlock had been thinking about and staring at john's facial hair...

topic change. "how was dinner?"

"delicious. pity you didn't have any."

"eating..."

"... slows you down, i know, i know.", john said, but there was an amused grin on his lips. for some reason sherlock had to look away to catch himself. john smiling at him like that, it did something to him. something that hits way further inside than just into his heart.

he sensed john leaning back and stretching his face up to the sun. sherlock simply had to turn his gaze back onto him. the sun highlighted the few blond strands left and the red undertone in john's beard... it accentuated the wrinkles, that sherlock loved, because they reflect just how real john is. the detective then realized he was staring again and looked away. pretending to focus on the people around him, maybe deducing them. in reality every sense was directed at john. he heard him move, sensed his body being closer to his, smelt a hint of the coffee john had drunk, saw him putting his chin into his hand out of the corner of his eye.

he felt john staring now. sherlock decided it was safe to glare back at him. and was swept off his feet, well he was sitting, but he was still overwhelmed by john's expression. there was so much adoration, fascination and out of a lack of better words - love in his eyes.

sherlock had to smile back at him. he felt his face getting hotter. john - without saying a word - made him feel special.

john's gaze never left his and then exclaimed, barely above a whisper, "i'd like to kiss you." it was out of the blue, but it felt like the perfect timing.

what happened next felt natural, like they were actors who were acting according to a script: sherlock stood up leaned over the small table and placed his lips on john's.

the kiss was over soon, but they both knew it was just the first of uncountables.

a smile, a hand sneaking into his, looks speaking more than words.

on that day just like that, with that tiny almost-whisper and their promising first kiss they stopped being augend and addend and began being a sum.

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tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr

[angellbarnes]

denial is best served hot

day 2 - rivals

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: it's a competition between you two, always. every mission. this one, though, turns out a little differently than you'd expected.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: very very brief mention of blood, criminals, violence, 18+, dry humping, hands stuff but over clothes, utterly filthy dirty talk, horny asf Bucky

A/N: so I'm finally posting. day 2 of my 30 day writing challenge... 12 days later. but that's besides the point. the point is, it's posted and I wayy underestimated how busy I was going to feel after posting the first part. hopefully it'll be more regular from now on, but I think I'd rather take a lil more time on these fics and have the 30 days a bit more flexible, than rush out some that I know I could do so much better on. anyway, please enjoy☺️🤍

You’re heading towards the meeting room after being called for a mission. The lift stops on Bucky’s floor and he steps in. You side eye each other as the doors close. It’s tense, but comfortable, as the atmosphere usually is between you two. 

“What do you think the mission is?” You ask him. 

“Whatever it is, just know that I’ll do it better.” You can sense his smirk while keeping your gaze forward. 

“In your dreams, Barnes.” The doors open and you pat his chest before walking off. “In your dreams.” 

He follows with a huff. 

A friendly rivalry is the way you two put it. It may not come across so friendly, but no harm has ever been done by it. Just a constant competition between you to prove who is the “better” Avenger. You even tried to get everyone to answer a questionnaire about it. To which you only got two replies: Sam who, with no hesitation, answered you, and Tony who simply wrote down his own name.

It all started during a mission, when you and Bucky had decided to take separate hallways, which conveniently had the same number of opposing agents down each, and see who could take them the fastest. The winner, so be it, was the one who reached the adjoining room first. He made it first, and you’d tried to argue your case, wiping blood from your face, and he’d come out clean as a whistle. You made it your mission, from then on, to prove his arrogant ass wrong, and smack the smug grin clean off his pretty face. He bragged about this for ages, and you desperately wanted something to boast, and humiliate him, about. 

Fury is waiting in the meeting room when you walk in. You seem to be the only ones there.

“Where’s everyone else?” You question.

“Oh, there is no one else.” Fury states. “It’s just going to be the two of you. We need to be as discreet as possible, so we want to keep numbers low.”

You and Bucky glance at each other, silent competition instantly arising.

“So, what is the mission?” Bucky enquires. 

“A guy, to put it simply.” Fury replies. “Or, an underground drug and crime lord associated with multiple different gangs, groups and countries and is very, very dangerous. Murder, torture, kidnap, fraud, theft, you name it, he’s done it. But this guy is damn hard to catch. We have a lead at the moment, the best one we’ve had, to an underground club. Criminals only, essentially. Called ‘The KillOut’.”

“Ohh, I get it. It’s like chill out, but kill out, right?” Bar the reason for it, you quite like the name.

“Wait a second, I recognise that name. I think I’ve been there. Before. As the Winter Soldier, that is.” Bucky says, a concerned frown upon his face.

“So, what, you’re sending us there? How will we even get in?” You ask. Fury taps the screen he’s holding, and projects it to the one behind. Two profiles show up.

‘Your new aliases.” He responds. “Bucky, I’m afraid you’ll be returning as the Winter Soldier. They already know you, admire you. We’ve got a new arm for you to wear that is identical to your old one. I know it’ll be hard, but you’re just gonna have to, ok?”

Bucky takes a deep breath and simply nods at Fury’s request.

“Y/L/N, you’re now going as Betty Smalls, a seemingly innocent but seductive accomplice of the Winter Soldier. You’re an angel by day but the devil by night, so be it. Make it believable, you two. Our aim is to get him alone, so we have a way of restraining him and taking him away. You have a few hours to prepare and get ready, and your outfits are waiting for you back upstairs.” And with that, Fury sends the two of you off again.

You both receive your profiles whilst in the lift, and a copy of the mission report and what needs to go down in order for it to be successful.

“Be prepared to fail, Barnes, and for me to rise from your ashes as the saviour for this team. Not even sure why you should bother coming along.” You tease.

“I’m the Winter Soldier, sweetheart. You wouldn’t even be able to attend without me.” He quips back.

“Fine. But that’s all you’re going to be good for.” 

“See you later, Betty.” Bucky says as he gets out on his floor. He turns and you simply salute him, with a ‘See ya, soldier’ as the doors close on you.

You reach your room and, sure enough, your outfit it layed out, with Nat holding a pair of strappy black heels beside.

“Pretty cute, huh?” She comments.

“Hmm.” You stare at the longline and elegant black dress, the long, white fur coat, and the heels once again and question what led you to this moment. “Hello, Betty.”

~~~

You get to the car that’s waiting for you, barely making it there with both of your ankles in one piece. Bucky is already there waiting. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look hot as hell clad in leather like that, trousers clinging to his thick thighs. You clear your throat and compose your dirty thoughts as you approach.

“Wow,” he coos as he looks you up and down. “Betty looks good.” You wonder if the complement is for you too. Either way, you can feel a small butterfly going crazy in your stomach, having his eyes rake over you like that. He almost looks hungry.

“Take a picture, Buck. It’ll last longer.” You smirk, crossing your arms, unaware that it’s just enhanced your cleavage. Bucky has to tear his eyes away, feeling a sudden tightness in his trousers. “Anyway, Betty has almost broken both of her ankles in these ridiculous shoes. They’re something I should be looking at, not wearing.” You let yourself flop down into the backseat. Bucky chuckles and shuts your door, heading to the other side and sitting down beside you. You both put in your ear pieces and the driver starts the car.

“You guys ready?” Fury’s voice rings in your ear.

“Ready.” You say simultaneously. 

~~~

You both get out of the car, Bucky offering his arm, which you take, before heading to the entrance. There are two huge – huge – men covering the doors. Alas, you keep your confident visage. You’re a criminal now, remember?

“I’m not Bucky anymore, ok?” Bucky whispers, face oh so close to yours. A shiver runs through you. “Call me soldier, tonight. I don’t care how stupid it is, that’s how I am – was – known.” You turn your face, unaware of how close you’d be to him.

“Ok.” You breathe. You carry on walking towards the front of what looks like an abandoned warehouse.

You see the men squint at Bucky, perhaps recognising him. Then look to you. It seems your outfit is enough to distract them as they look at each other and begin whistling and commenting. You roll your eyes to yourself.

“Soldat.” They both say, standing tall in front of who they think is still the Winter Soldier. Bucky simply glares at them. “And who’s this treat?” One of them says, turning to you.

“Betty Smalls, pleased to meet you.” You smile seductively through your lashes, clinging to Bucky’s arm, one hand upon his chest.

“The pleasure is all ours, sweetheart.” You cringe at them but keep up the act.

“She’s with me.” Bucky deadpans to them. They both clear their throats, stepping to the side and opening the doors for them. You blow a kiss as you walk through, turning to wink at the other. God, men are so easy to fool in a tight dress and lipgloss.

You head down some stairs, turning left at the bottom and, there it is, above another door, a neon sign with the words “the KillOut” in glowing red.

‘Here we go.” You say to Bucky. He gives you a tight-lipped smile.

“Betty.” He says.

“Soldier.” And with that, he opens the door and you’re exposed to an entirely different world. A world full of people, criminals, who look just like anyone else would in a club. You keep your cool as Bucky leads you to the bar. There are many eyes on the two of you, whispers between everybody and the Winter Soldier and his girl walk through. All Bucky has to do is look at someone with his intense stare and they’ll move out the way. It’s kinda hot, you think to yourself.

“An old fashioned for me and a pornstar martini for the lady.” Bucky says to the bartender. You flash him a ‘seriously?’ look and he just winks back at you. So does the bartender when he hands you your glass. 

You take your drinks and Bucky stares a couple out of their seats in a booth in the corner of the bar. You have the view of the whole place from where you are. 

“There.” Bucky says, eyeing a man who’s just walked in, sitting himself at the bar. “That’s our guy.”

“You’ve located him?” Fury asks through the comms.

“Apparently so. But that is not who I was expecting.” His flamboyant style consists of a deep burgundy/pink suit, with, no doubt real, rhinestone detailing along his collar and lapels. His black suede boots have at least a two inch heel to them. His cheekbones shimmer under the dim lighting with highlight and his red eyeliner perfectly compliments his devilish looks. As well as that, you notice the way he crosses one leg over the other and delicately stirs his drink while eyeing up the bartender.

“Well, I never.” You say, leaning back into your seat and folding your arms.

“Ok, go and order me another drink and flirt with him. Our best option is for you to seduce him so we can get him alone.” You laugh a little too loudly and have to cover your mouth at his suggestion. He looks extremely confused at your outburst. “What?”

“I think you mean you need to seduce him.” You shortly reply.

“Excuse me?” He questions, sitting more upright to face you.

“Are you kidding me? Even a blind person could see that he’s oh, so clearly, gay, Barnes.” You're smiling excessively and his mouth has dropped. You smirk and prop his jaw back up so his mouth is shut. “What are you waiting for? Go get him, tiger.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, Y/L/N. I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to humiliate me, hit on this guy for your amusement. It’s not going to work. Now just go so we can get this mission over with.” You sigh at his ignorance, although that would be a good prank. Maybe another time.

“No, Buck, I’m not doing anything. Look at the guy. He’s one Madonna song away from voguing across the floor.” Your state. 

“Criminals can be over the top, you know? Just remember Zemo and his purple pimp coat.” He quips.

“Ok. What about the fact that he’s practically drooling over the bartender?” Your question is aimed rhetorically. Bucky is clearly struggling for an answer and the two of you become stuck in an intense staring contest. Neither planning on breaking first.

“Status report, guys? How’re we lookin’?” Fury asks.

“Bucky can’t accept the fact that our guy is clearly gay as all hell and is trying to get me to seduce him.” You reply, still not breaking eye contact.

“Wait, so let me get this straight. You two have gone to a bar, got yourselves a drink, sat yo’ asses down and have been arguing over whether the incredibly dangerous criminal we’re trying to capture is into fuckin’ men or women? Are you fucking kidding me?” Suddenly, Fury’s words send yours and Bucky’s eyes back to your target. “Get your heads together, agents, and will one of you, for the love of God, go and flirt with the enemy.” Fury cuts off and you’re left in silence. Bucky leans back in his seat and you raise a brow at him.

“Go. You heard the guy. Now, go ‘n’ flirt with the enemy.” He smirks. 

“Fine. I’ll go over. I’m going to have so much fun proving you wrong. My gaydar is never off.” You hold your glass up to Bucky as he scoffs, and saunter over to your target, who you know as Mr. Argot Boughley.

“Hey, honey. Saw you from the other side of the bar. Thought you looked lonely.” You wink at him and take a sip from your glass.

“Oh, I’m sorry babe, I’m not-”

“Oh, no, I know.” You cut the man off, chuckling. “I can tell a man’s man from a mile off. My friend, he’s shy, you see. But sweet as sugar once you get past the murderous tendency, am I right?” You point your glass towards Bucky, to which Argot’s eyes follow. You see him looking confused in his shadowy confinement of the corner booth. “Cute, right?”

“Mmm, as a puppy. I bet he looks good with blood on his hands.” He comments, side eyeing you with a smirk.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” You play along. Whatever gets him captured and proves Bucky wrong. “He likes a confident guy. I’ll send him your way, shall I? You two look hot together, I can already tell.”

“Tell him I’ll have a drink, and maybe something more, waiting for him.” He winks, biting his lip as he drinks Bucky’s form with his eyes. You walk smugly over to Bucky and sit yourself back in the booth. He looks concerned.

“Well? Did he fall for you or not? Should get back over there so you can get him alone.” Bucky says, to which you just giggle.

“Oh, baby boy. Sweet, naive, baby Bucky. That man over there is as straight as a roundabout. I’m not doing anything for him, but I told him I’d send you over. And he’s got a drink waiting for you.” Bucky’s eyes widen at your words, and you relish in his confusion. He has no words coming out of his open mouth.

“He’s really gay, huh?” Bucky weakly accepts his defeat and you grin in response as he makes eye contact with Argot, who holds up the drink he’s ordered.

“Time to shine, Barnes. Get your gay on. And, whatever you do, don’t fuck it up.”

He takes a breath and, shaking his head at you, stands himself up and heads over to Argot. You sit back and let the scene in front of you unfold. 

Argot begins by caressing Bucky’s thigh and continuously leaning closer to him. To begin with, you’re chuckling to yourself, thinking of the things you’ll be able to tell the team when you get back, but Bucky seems surprisingly believable when he also leans closer to Argot. Bucky’s hand roams Argot’s thigh and torso, as he grins and charms the pants off of Argot. You find yourself frowning at the two of them, unsure of the twang of jealousy that creeps through you. Their faces grow closer and closer and, before you know it, they share a short, but sweet kiss. 

Props to Bucky for the commitment, though you now find yourself wanting another drink. A strong one.

You can’t help the way your jaw drops when Argot begins leading Bucky away from the bar and through a doorway that you assumed led to the bathroom. Clearing your throat and trying to look as discrete and nonchalant as possible, you follow shortly after. It’s acting. Bucky’s acting. So, why did your jealousy feel so real?

When you turn the corner, you’re met with a corridor littered with doors, each to a different room. They must be for everyone’s criminal meetings. Or, whatever. You roll your eyes at your internal monologue and talk into your comm.

“Buck, if you can answer me, which room are you in?” No response.

You start heading slowly down the corridor, hand lightly atop the blade tucked neatly beneath your dress. Your head is lowered, trying to focus on and make out the sounds coming from each room. And there were a lot. Yelling, negotiating, probably murdering, moaning, the lot, and then there it is. A deep thud. And a muffled ‘goddamnit’ from Bucky. 

“Bingo.” You say, staring at room 22. You groan when you find that the door is locked. You’re pressed up against it to see if you can hear anything else going on, when it’s unlocked and you go stumbling into Bucky.

“Steady.” He chuckles as you straighten yourself up. He shuts the door and locks it again. “Careful, I think you’re starting to fall for me.” He smirks, hands proudly on his hips. Your throat is dry but you manage a dirty look his way.

“What did you do to him?” You ask when you turn your focus to Argot. He’s out like a light.

“A simple dose of my fist in his face. Trust me, he’ll be out for hours.” He gets to work tying Argot’s hands behind his back, ready to get him out of here and most likely shut the rest of the club down.

“Huh, good work I guess.”

“I was going to keep him around for a bit longer to see if I could get some information out of him first but, uh. He, uh… He tried to…” Bucky’s stuttering like crazy and your grinning, arms crossed, head tilted, ready for him to admit his wrong. “He tried to kiss me. Again. And more. I don’t know, it was a reflex. But, whatever, you, uh, you were right.” He mumbles the last part and turns away sheepishly.

“I’m so sorry, Barnes, I missed that last part. I was what?” You move closer to him and wait for him to say it to your face.

“You were right about Argot.” He mumbles again.

“Nope, sorry. Didn’t catch that.” Suddenly his eyes grow wide and you’re slammed against the wall. His body is firmly pressed against yours, faces mere inches apart and breathing heavily. Your heart rate has most certainly doubled.

“I said, princess, that you. Were. Right.” His eyes bore into your soul and you honestly can’t tell any of your emotions apart anymore.

“That’s all I wanted to hear.” You squeak.

“But don’t get me wrong. You may have been right about Argot,” Oh no, his cocky voice is out. “but don’t think I didn’t notice the way your fist clenched around your glass when he touched me, or how you couldn’t bear the sight of him leaning in towards me, even more so when he kissed me. Bet you wished it was your hands, your lips, on me, huh?”

You’re speechless. He’s right. How can he be right? You take in a sharp breath and dare yourself to look into his piercing eyes.

“In your dreams, Barnes.” You just about make a sound. A very unconvincing one. So much so, Bucky chuckles at your weak excuse for a response. He brings his hand to caress your cheek.

“Babygirl, you can deny this all you want, but I sure as hell was picturing your lips when he kissed me. Darlin’ it’s the only way I could do it. Be honest, you’ve never thought about it? About this, about us? Tell me you haven’t, and I’ll back away right now.” He lowers himself to release his deep voice into your ear. “Right now.”

You’ve never wanted a man so bad. And you hate yourself for it.

You turn yourself to look at him, lust blanketing over both of you like a storm. A surge of emotions and desire, now taking over. “I hate you. Come here.” You grab his face and pull him to your lips. The kiss is deep, passionate, messy, and long overdue. 

Finally, the pent up tension that you’d each been denying is being released. And it couldn’t be hotter. Your hands roam each other like it’s life or death, just wanting to feel each other. Everywhere. Your lips don’t stop. Then he starts kissing, nipping and licking your neck, forcing moans from you. You pull his hips into you and his hard on presses up into you. You both groan and look into each other's eyes. He begins grinding against you and you resume the kiss, now peppered with moans in between. You tug on his hair and he releases an almost feral sound. You smirk up at him. He does the same in return as he slips his hand beneath your dress and lets his hands roam over your soaked panties.

“All this for me?” He whispers, nipping at your ear. The sensation of him rubbing the thin fabric over your clit has you arching and moaning against him. “Doll, I don’t know how I’ve gone this long without fucking you. I’ve thought about it, ya know? By myself. In bed, in the shower. But I knew my hand would never feel as good as you would wrapped around me. It’ll never be as good as having my cock inside that pretty pussy of yours. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

You’re a mess. From his words, from his actions. This man is going to ruin you. And you’re going to let him.

“Yes.” You gasp. “Bucky, fuck, thought about you too. Touched myself thinking ‘bout you. But this is so much better.” You palm his erection over his trousers and he groans deeply into your neck.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes.

“By the way, I’m still gonna tell everyone about how I was right about Argot.”

“I swear, I’m-”

“Agents? It’s been a while. What the hell is going on over there and please, for the sake of my sanity, tell me that motherfucker is caught now.” Nick’s voice yells at both of you, clearly unaware of anything. Your hand flies to cover your mouth. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips, and Bucky does the same. He brings his hand to his ear.

“Everything’s fine. We’ve got the guy. He’s down and ready to be brought back. You can send the other agents in to shut this place down.” Bucky replies. Cool, calm and collected. Like nothing else was going on.

“Finally. What in the hell took you so long?” Fury bites back.

“Uh, yeah, sorry about that. Things got a little… harder than we expected.” You roll your hips against Bucky and he clenches his jaw not to make a sound.

“Fine. Well, at least it’s done. Good work. You can head back to the compound now.”

You’re left in a silence, eyes devouring each other. Hungry for each other

Bucky leans back down to you, a growling undertone to his words “Guess we’ve gotta finish what we started back at the compound. I can’t wait to be inside you, doll.”

“Excuse me?” Fury’s voice is back and both your eyes widen. 

“Shit.”

[kately]

THIRTY DAYS WRITING CHALLENGE — 📰

I. the coffee you spilled all over me

II. “in spain we say ‘al que madruga dios le ayuda’, you know?”

III. surviving a plane crash

IV. a blue scarf and a special occasion

V. a man, his wife and her lover

VI. write something using these words: license plate, lighter, tactic, fresh air

VII. getting lost in marrakech

VIII. now my life is sweet like cinnamon

IX. building a house

X. “may i have this dance?”

XI. a sharp pain in the chest

XII. your favorite drink, your favorite shirt

XIII. 11 o’ clock

XIV. “don’t you think 8000$ is a bit… too much?”

XV. swiss mountains

XVI. how i met your uncle

XVII. nostalgia

XVIII. let this website generate you a song, choose an inspiring lyric and write

XIX. poetry is for the weak-hearted

XX. baby

XXI. a fallen tree

XXII. wuthering heights

XXIII. “you can’t really blame this one on fate, can you?”

XXIV. 5th of december, a day like any other?

XXV. antipathy

XXVI. enemies to lovers to enemies

XXVII. why’d you only call me when you’re high? – arctic monkeys

XXVIII. keep your friends close but your enemies closer

XXIX. stop and stare

XXX. “what’s your favorite drink?”

BONUS

1. sex, lies and scandal never take a vacation

2. “did you really think ant-man was real?!” “no…?”

3. wine stains

4. the man who sold the world

5. underwater

[jerzwriter]

What Happened in Vegas: An Interlude

Book:                   Open Heart (Book 2 - AU)

Pairing:                Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Rating:                 General

Category:            Fluff

Summary:   Ethan and Casey are in shock after watching the recording - for now, they know it's true. Too much to drink + Vegas + a wedding chapel they stumbled into on their path = only one thing. They were married. This is Ethan's POV as the news settles in.

Words: 456

A/N: Day 2 of @creativepromptsforwriting 's 30-Day Writing Challenge: Write a scene without any dialogue. And, boy, was this a challenge for me because I think dialogue is my strong suit. I decided to tackle a little scene that took place "off camera" at the end of Chapter 4 of my mini-series, What Happened in Vegas. It's not a full chapter, I stayed true to my promise of under 600 words today, but I hope those reading the series will enjoy a peek at Ethan's state of mind.

@choicesjanuarychallenge Day 5 - Love

Vegas Masterlist 30-Day Challenge Masterlist

Casey tapped his hand. Though no words were exchanged, he knew exactly what she wanted him to do. He stopped the recording at once. An audible thud was heard when his phone fell from his hand, crashing on the mattress between them. But, frozen, neither moved an inch.

The ceiling wasn’t that interesting, and he had already memorized every crack. But the pale grey plaster was the perfect backdrop as shock drifted away and reality began crashing in. There was no longer any question. They were married. It may have been a rash decision, and certainly nothing they would have done sober, but that didn’t matter. It was done. And now that they had seen it with their own eyes, he knew:  not only done but, despite the circumstances, it was done with love. As the shock drifted, a strange sensation overtook him, and he felt a smile forming, even if it never appeared on his lips.

He wasn’t sure how long they lay there. How long does it take for something like this to register? But he knew it would have laid there longer if it had been up to him. Casey sat up, she was speaking, but he couldn’t hear a word. They couldn’t compete with the words already replaying in his mind. The vows he had spoken to her and those she had gifted him. 

They hadn’t been engaged. There were no previous plans. No long nights attempting to pen the perfect vows for the person you hoped to spend eternity with. There was nothing that may have been stored in their subconscious that could be recalled, even when drunk. And, oh, were they drunk. So, how did they arrive at those words? He wondered. Then another revelation washed over him. There was only one way they could have uttered such beautiful words in such a condition: because they were true.

Breaking free from his trance, he lifted his head and stared at her, his beautiful… wife… the annulment pamphlet tapping nervously in her hands. Her words were still inaudible. He was sober now, but in a way, more intoxicated than ever before… and it was solely because of her. But he heard her now, and his heart started to race. A quickie marriage fueled by overpriced bourbon and wine, the solution seemed simple… an equally quick annulment to put it in the past. That’s what she seemed to say.

But there was one problem, he didn’t want that, and he couldn’t let it happen. Grasping her hand, he began to tackle the most important task in his lifetime. The one thing in his heart he knew to be true… he had to convince her… this wasn’t a mistake; this was their destiny.

Permatags: @a-crepusculo @animesuck3r @annoyingmillenialnewbie @crazy-loca-blog @differenttyphoonwerewolf @doriopenheart @fayeswiftie @genevievemd @gryffindordaughterofathena @inlocusmads @jamespotterthefirst @jennieausten @liaromancewriter @lucy-268 @kingliam2019 @onikalover @openheartforeverinmyheart @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @secretaryunpaid @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction @jerzwriter-reblogs-asks @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others in reblog

[alchemiasart]

30-day writing challenges?

I know it's a little after the fact, but for the first time ever, I got all the badges for NaNoWriMo in 2023. AND, it was a complete cycle of 30 related short stories, set in a cryptid universe.

So, here's where it might get interesting.

I wrote between 2100 and 7000 words every single day for all of November, and I loved every second of it. More than that, all my test readers adored it and I'm being pressured to figure out how to publish it. Not sure if I'm going the self-publishing route or if I'm going to try to get some in magazines or whatever.

The exciting part was the 30-day challenge, I think. And I might want to do it again during every month that has 30 days, which means April, June, September, and November. Maybe I'll write more cryptid stories, maybe I'll work in one of my other universes.

My big question is (and I know this is a super-low-traffic blog right now), who wants to watch that journey? And how do you support your writer/author friends when they're doing a challenge?

[illicitlamb]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈: 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 | 𝟑𝟎-𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄

SUMMARY | Wednesday and Enid have a "roomie" movie night.

The motion pictures of Edward Scissorhands flashed on the laptop screen, holding Wednesday’s attention as she laid propped against her bed’s headboard. With her left arm draped over her ribs, the right was bent to have her knuckles brushing her lips. The whole “roomie movie night” that Enid proposed was definitely not her cup of tea, but now she was involved with the movie and had no intention of pausing it to get some sleep.

It was the complete opposite for her werewolf girlfriend.

She was completely gung-ho about having a fun, relaxing night concerning only the two of them and was now heavily dozing off on the raven’s right.

Once Addams came up to the famous scene of Scissorhands sculpting an ice figure of his crush, Kim Boggs, she maintained a blank stare until Sinclair’s arm wrapped her waist in, what felt like, a subtle hug. Looking over at her captor, she found her crystal eyes closed and torso rising and falling with light breathing. Even if she was awake, the psychic probably still would have opted for letting the affectionate touch slide.

Returning her gaze, Wednesday shifted gently before relaxing once more against the mattress. A few moments later, the hold on her middle tightened followed by a soft, groggy voice.

“Wednesday…?”

She kept her orbs to the screen. “Hmm?”

“Can you cuddle with me?”

This had her glancing down at the blonde, brow hardening. “Cuddle?”

“Mm-hmm,” Enid sleepily replied.

“I don’t do cuddling,” Addams pushed back. Despite being in a relationship, it was still a complete turnoff when anything other than hugging and kissing was involved. As unusual as that was, she knew her limits and refused to fit into the stereotypical crowd of lovestruck couples. “You’re practically asking to be strangled.” But her waist was pulled on by the she-wolf.

“Please, Wednesday? Just this once?”

The young raven expressed a partially-annoyed sigh.

“For me?”

Several moments passed prior to a reluctant agreement falling from her lips. “Fine.” Shifting further down, she became pressed against her girlfriend’s body while a content sigh stung her ears. She did not engage much in return except for placing her hand on the other’s securing forearm.

On the right, the werewolf nestled close to her partner, taking in the mixed aroma of laundry detergent and the others soothing, natural scent. “For someone who doesn’t like to cuddle, you’re the perfect person to cuddle with,” she breathed.

Wednesday responded with nonchalance. “Why is that?”

“You’re warm…and easy to hug.”

“Flattering me is not going to make me like it anymore,” she muttered back. But Sinclair kept pulling at her.

“Can’t you just take the compliment?” Her weariness weighed more and more on her mind, making her rub her head against her pillow. “Instead of being so grumpy?”

“I’m not. You know affection is not my forte and neither is being possessed by hyperactive positivity.”

After exercising a yawn, a soft smile twisted the blonde’s lips. “We’ll work on that.” And with that word, she was bewitched by the sweet spell of slumber while her girlfriend was passing her a subtle glare.

Of course, Addams was opposed to such a proposal. She had made a promise to herself that she would never fall in that line – she would never fall in love and never fall out of her one-of-a-kind reputation. But every day she was with Enid, she was tested on keeping her vow more and more. She knew it, and sooner or later, her partner would know it too. She was pushing away while the other kept pulling at her nerves, her mind, and her heart. She would not dare to admit it, but the she-wolf was winning – she was being pulled into the suffocating clutches of love. Every word, every fight, every feeling, she was falling. It had to take someone of an extremely rare nature to get to her core, and she had finally crossed paths with her match.

Enid Sinclair was her match. It was shocking, but the blunt truth.

Resorting back to the movie as a distraction, the psychic stayed focused for a few more minutes. But before she could even realize, she was manipulatively beckoned to join the werewolf in a comfortable rest quicker than gasoline catching a burning flame. Caught in between the transition of asleep and awake, the last thing she did was move her hand to lay atop of her partners’.

How ironic it was that her move was made out of a natural force.

So maybe it was true – opposites do attract.

[deity-prompts]

February Writing Challenge 2023 theme: firsts

First time driving

First episode

First chance

First day

First meeting

First look

First attempt

First bite

First flight

First drink

First birthday

First job

First fight

First pet

First step

First post

First anniversary

First words

First home

First light

First born

First place

First choice

First dollar

First to apply

First photo

First kiss

First kill

Also see:

February Writing Challenge 2021

February Writing Challenge 2022

Writing Challenge Masterlist

Prompts Masterlist

[nowiamcoveredinyou]

Spoon

Steven grant x reader

Word count:- 390

30 days writing challenge!

A/n:- hey! I am doing this thirty days challenge. And I hope you guys like it. I started with the second one because the first one I already did with that title and it's 2nd September in my country!

You sat with your laptop screen lit up at your desk. The online meeting left you grumpy, The project is already hard to deal with and now the approaching deadlines. You and Steven grant have been dating for six months now And one month since you moved in to his rusty flat. He thought you'd be uncomfortable there, yet you never felt less comfy, perhaps for the person with whom you're living with. He's all that you'll ever need to be happy anyway.

Steven lifted up his eyes, with specs to look at you, you looked really grumpy. You absolutely ignored his stare and sat the way you were for like seven minutes to be precise.

"hey" said Steven, clearing his throat. Yet you didn't respond to him, but you did shut your laptop down.

Steven saw you, he knows you so well to know what you needed this time. He got up keeping his book aside and took his wallet.

"I'll be back" he said just this before sprinting out of the flat. You saw from the window he was walking, rather running on the pavements, and disappeared from the view.

After twenty minutes or something he returned, sweating, breathing heavily.

"where have you been". you asked, your anger melted a little obviously.

"oh got something for you" he answered coming inside, he got a plate and then asked you,

"close your eyes".

So you did and he handed you a plate. You opened your eyes to find your favourite chocolate pastry on it, your eyes sparkled , you gasped in ashtonishment.

"woah Steven, thanks love."

A soft, genuine smile spread accross his lips.

"I knew you'd like it, come on have it."

You knew there's something missing and yet you started with your hands, you took out a piece and put it in your mouth,

"as usual delicious" a moan worthy piece it was. That's when Steven exclaimed, "oh dear".

You smiled you knew he realised,

"I forgot your spoon."

He was horrified and you were giggling, you shook your head and said, "it's okay, have it". you took a piece and fed him, with your hands.

He blushed, munching the piece he said, "not too bad without a spoon no?"

"no" you both laughed sharing your pastry, better to share with him than having all by yourself.