#myblurbs

written for ‘slick’ @steddiemicrofic & day 2: ice skating @steddieholidaydrabbles| wc: 501 | rated: mature | tags: pining, flirting, ice skating, steve harrington is an athlete, eddie munson is so not, getting together, fluff

It looks so easy.

The movies, the television shows, the commercials; they all make this look so fucking easy.

Eddie isn’t surprised to see Steve take to the ice skates like a second set of cleats. After a couple of falls, Steve easily finds his feet beneath him and Eddie watches with a death grip on the boards as he skates smooth laps around the small frozen pond. It’s not shocking, but it’s frustrating because Eddie was hoping for something… well, something stupid.

They’re friends, and it was stupid for Eddie to think ice skating would be the romantic moment that pushes them into something more. Just because someone is into guys doesn’t mean they’re into him.

How many times will he have to learn this lesson?

Snowflakes fall, just a light flurry enough to stick to the tip of Steve’s beanie and nose, glittering in the twinkle lights string up in the trees. Eddie really didn’t mean to fall in love with his best friend, but how could he not? How could anyone watch Steve skate towards them, dodging couples and small children on wobbly legs, and not want to kiss him right on his half frozen face?

“You’re not giving up, are you?” Steve asks as he approaches the spot Eddie hasn’t dared to move from after his last fall.

His ass still hurts, and not in the fun way he’d like it to hurt after hanging out with Steve. The thought makes his feet nearly slip out from under him.

“Whoa!” Steve catches him with quick reflexes, holding him steady. “Dude, no offense, but you’re not great at this.”

“You don’t say,” Eddie huffs, his breath visible between them. “Ice is slick, and it’s normal to fall on it. Not everyone is some freak athlete.”

“Oh, now I’m the freak?” Steve teases, both hands still firmly on Eddie’s hips. He tries not to think about that.

“You just put knife-shoes on and you’re just— just— with no problem!” He gestures between the ice and Steve.

“I’m not thinking about it so much,” Steve shrugs. “Act like you’re walking, but just push out with each foot instead of forward. And if you fall, it’s fine. Just get back up.”

“That sounds fake,” Eddie squints. “You just want to see me fall again.”

“I mean, it is kind of cute when you fall. Your face gets all like—” Steve makes a squished up pout, but all Eddie can hear is Cute.

“Cute?” He questions.

“I said what I said,” Steve grins, holding out one hand. “C’mon, I won’t let you fall this time.”

Too late.

Eddie stares at his hand, a gesture that feels like it offers so much more than stability on knife-shoes.

“If you let go of my hand, I’ll kill you.”

“You’d need to be able skate without the wall to catch me,” Steve laughs, all wide smiles and rosy cheeks.

Here is a little blurb, hope you enjoy. Send in requests and message me. I love talking to you guys

wc: 1,317 (credit to gifmaker)

Part 2

“Jack, I swear to god.” You hiss, smacking your boyfriend away from your suitcase as he throws out the T-shirt you had nicely folded for the third time.

“What?” He yelps, stepping back to avoid your attack, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Seriously, J, take another step towards my bag, and I’m gonna lock you in the closet.” You fold the shirt again and stick it into the waiting suitcase.

You feel his burning stare on your back as you continue packing your things, both wishing desperately that you could delay the inevitable but knowing that no matter how much you hate it, your college life has to continue, and you have to leave.

You hear him softly sigh behind you, and you don’t have the heart to turn around, knowing his face will hold that pouty look that will make you miss your flight. Instead, you stay silent, packing your shirts and moving onto your pants.

After a minute or two in silence, you hear Jack shuffle behind you, moving toward his closet and rustling around for a few seconds before emerging back into the bedroom.

“Do you want to trade in?” He asks, holding out a couple of clothing items to you.

A small smile plays on your lips as you grab the new clothes and hand him back a few of his other clothes that had kept you comfortable for the month you were apart. It’s just a few things, which may be really cliche, but every time you’re together, you rotate them out because he knows it makes you feel better when you’re apart.

You stuff the remaining clothes into your already full suitcase and close it, but not before you feel a pair of arms snake around your waist, interrupting your motion.

“I think I got it,” Jack says, scanning over your suitcase. “We get rid of the clothes, and with enough strategy, I think I could fit myself in here.”

Before he even finishes, laughter bursts from your lips. “Yeah, I’m sure TSA would love that.”

You turn to face him in his arms, and even though the idea is ridiculous, you wouldn’t put it past him to try to attempt it.

“J, it’s only for a month and a half; we’ve done worse.”

He shakes his head, “Why don’t you just cancel your flight? Stay a few more days.”

His offer is tempting, but you know that if you don’t leave today, you’ll never escape his hold.

“As much as I’d love that, some of us have school.” You tease, pushing your fingers through his hair, messing it up.

He rolls his eyes to the ceiling and pulls you further into his body.

“I hate that my girlfriend is so studious. Why did I get the one who resists my offer of skip days?”

You shove him away from you as he laughs, “You and I both know I have had too many skip days because of you. Besides, the sooner I go to school, the sooner I graduate.”

He smirks at your graduation statement and leans toward you. “And then?”

This time you smirk. “And then, I can find a really awesome boyfriend who doesn’t distract me from a flight that is supposed to leave in an hour.”

His face falls for not even a second before tackling you onto the bed and tickling your sides.

“What was that? Huh? Another boyfriend?” He says in between breaths while you’re shrieking with laughter, trying to push him off you.

After a minute of torture, he gives up and lays his entire weight on you, and you immediately relent and accept his love. He is always incredibly clingy during these times, but you’ll take all of it. So, you begin to rub his back and relish the feeling of being here with him, savoring the touch you’re about to go without for over a month.

“What am I gonna do without you?” Jack whispers after a minute, “I seriously don’t think I can do it.”

You think momentarily before you lift his face out of your neck, forcing him to look at you.

“Forty-five days, J, and then it’s summer. Then, you’ll be sick of me.”

He rolls his eyes and drops his head back down, mumbling, “I’m never sick of you,” into your neck.

“I know, but distance makes the heart grow fonder.” You try to joke.

He responds by snorting, lifting himself off of you, and pulling you up with him.

“How about this-“

“Jack, I can’t sta-“

“Shhhh (Y/N), just hear me out.”

You give him a pointed look and fold your arms before you, waiting for him to continue.

“We cancel your flight, you stay forever, and I provide for us.”

After about thirty more attempts to get you to stay, which include fake tears, Jack trying to get your flight canceled, your bags are packed in his Range Rover, and you're flying down the highway toward the airport. Neither of you speaks; instead, listen to your shared playlist and watch the city of New Jersey fly by.

As you turn onto the street that leads to the airport, you take a deep breath and try to steady your heavy heart as Jack throws the car in park and hops out.

You’re quick to follow as he pulls your bags out and sets them down in front of you, not daring to look into your eyes. It isn’t until you softly whisper his name that he finally looks at you.

“Forty-five days, J.” You pull him toward you, quickly kissing his cheek.

“I know; I’m already counting down.” He finally lets a small smile play on his lips.

You glance at your watch and see that time, quite literally, is running out, so you pull him back in one more time, connecting your lips.

You stay there for a second, and you feel him chase after your lips when you begin to pull away, and he grips your waist hard, not letting you move an inch.

“Jack, you gotta let me go.”

He does, nodding sadly and unwillingly kissing you once more for a goodbye. He watches as you quickly do a little bag check and make sure you have everything. Once you’re confident, you sling your bag over your head and flash him one last smile, turning toward the door and walking through it.

He watches as you walk through the door and away from him; his heart is taken with you. You turn one last time, waving and blowing a kiss in his direction. He catches it, puts it in his pocket, and gives you one last smile.

He watches until you disappear from sight, following your movements and wishing ever so slightly that your lives are different. He wishes you didn’t have school, he wishes he didn’t have hockey, and he wishes above else that you could be together. He shakes his head as if to shake away the thoughts and knows he’s taking up a busy parking space.

He is soon back in his car, driving home, and the world seems slightly less bright than before. It’s not long before he is home, and he sees that his apartment is way too empty for his liking. So he calls his teammates, and soon enough, he getting ready to meet them for dinner, anything to distract himself that you’re gone.

He begins to get ready, changing into a sweatshirt that you’d traded in, one of his favorites that now smells like you, and as if on cue, his phone buzzes with a text from you.

Try not to miss me too much, loser. I love you.

Note: well, hello! I have no idea when I last posted a blurb, so I know it's been a while. I don't know how many people are still reading on here, but I've gotten back into writing, so I thought I would post this! It's based on the song If You Love Her by Forest Blakk and Meghan Trainor. I've decided to turn this into a little series of blurbs, inspired by different parts of the song, and this is the first one. I would LOVE to know what you think of this, as it has been a while since I posted, so any feedback would be really appreciated!

Word count: 1,302

“Can’t sleep?”

You huff and roll onto your back, suddenly feeling like there isn’t enough air in the room and the covers are touching you just a little bit too much. Calum had feigned sleep well, you didn’t know he was awake — but your tossing and turning had prevented him from falling into his own slumber. The heavy, bleary eyes and aching head is something that’s familiar to you — having never been one to fall asleep easily. You always need several aids for sleep to find you — whether it’s the TV, a podcast, or reading a book in bed until you eventually drift off. It hadn’t changed since moving in with Calum.

“No,” You sigh and shake your head, already sitting up, planning on accepting defeat in the battle against your own active mind. Calum hums sympathetically, spotting Duke curled up at the end of the bed — at least one of us is getting some sleep, he thinks. He has no intention of falling asleep and leaving you to sit and think, alone in the dark.

“Want to get some air?” He suggests. He has no idea what time it is, but he doesn’t really care — time is irrelevant now the world is locked down, all in a period of forced stillness. When it first came into play, he had tried to maintain some sort of routine — you had integrated your routine with his — but a few months in, it didn’t seem important anymore. You nod at his suggestion, knowing there’s no point in laying next to him, just staring at the ceiling. He pats your thigh with a warm reassuring hand, gesturing for you to follow him. “C’mon, gorgeous.”

from where you get these kind of ideas? btw it’s very hot 🥵 (also use protection!)

a/n: this was a deleted angst scene from written in the stars (which was almost a vicficwriterchallenge entry!) 

(spencer reid x gn bau!reader)

—

The two of you stared at each other, tension from the case lingering in the atmosphere. A close encounter with the unsub lead to an unruly night, which resulted in an awkward plane ride back and an even more uncomfortable dinner. But the team was oblivious to yours and Spencer’s relationship, chalking up the fight you had in your hotel room to platonic overprotectiveness. The only people who seemed to notice the tension throughout the night were you and Spencer.

But as you stared at each other now, under the moonlit sky, your faces seemed to soften. You weren’t sure where you stood with him, and you didn’t want to step on his toes any more than you already had.

“You should come inside before you catch a cold,” you broke the silence.

Spencer shrugged the blanket around his shoulders as he shook his head. “I’m fine. I have a blanket.”

You chewed your lip as you slowly nodded. He obviously came out here to be by himself, and although your mind was screaming at you to take a seat beside him, you said, “Well then I’ll see you in the morning, Spencer.”

As you turned and began your trek back inside, his hand reached out to stop you.

“Wait,” he said.  He cleared his throat before sheepishly asking, “If I asked you to stay, would you?”

You smiled as you immediately began to clamber your way next to him. To your surprise, he immediately rested his head on your shoulder as he wrapped the blanket around the both of you. You let out a breath of relief as you cuddled closer to him, your arms draped on each other’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. It was so faint you almost missed it.

You hugged him tighter and let him continue, “I just... There were a million things that could’ve went wrong and I was just so scared, Y/N...”

A sigh left your lips as you nodded. “I know. I know Spence. I worry about the same thing too.” You bit your lip as you softly admitted, “Every time we go into the field, it’s always in the back of my mind.”

Spencer retreated his arm from around your shoulder to rest his palm on your thigh. You took your  arm from his shoulder to grab his hand, using your thumb to gently rub the back of it. Spencer hummed in content, maneuvering his fingers between yours. “I didn’t mean what I said, Y/N. You’re a wonderful agent, and I trust your instincts.” Spencer let out a sigh.

You smiled and squeezed his hand. You placed a kiss into his hair as a response.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Spencer whispered. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

Your heart cracked at the sound of his voice. You brought a finger under his chin and guided his eyes to yours. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”

i loved writing this and actually based it a little bit off a porn video i watched lol oop!! hope you enjoy and thanks for the request. i have two other blurbs halfway done in my ask, but i am exhausted and might crash before finishing!!

sleepover + blurb night!

your body trembles as peter’s tongue runs through your folds, nose buried in your sex. he’s been at it not even ten minutes and you’re already trembling all over, unable to contain your moans. he’s a natural, really. he’s eaten you out so much that he’s perfected the art of it—and he nailed it the first try, too. honestly, what wasn’t he good at?

his hand slips beneath the t-shirt you’re wearing, palm fondling your breast. you gasp, wriggling your hips.

“mmm, stay still,” he hums, a hint of authority in his tone. it startles you almost, but in the end only makes you succumb more to him and his mouth.

“peter, fuck. you’re so good...” you whimper. you feel his damp lips pucker against your clit, suckling the soft bud into his mouth. you can’t help the sharp moans that fly from your lips as the tip of his tongues rolls over the sensitive bud, the combination of his fingertips pinching your nipple just about sending you off the edge.

he quickly halts his hasty licks and resorts to more languid strokes with his tongue. he circles your clit—god, it’s torture. you’re so close, and he just won’t bring you there. you know he’s just making excuses to keep himself between your thighs for a little longer.

you whimper in disappointment when he withdraws his mouth from your cunt, releasing the folds he was sucking on so diligently. you can’t help but squirm, the pulsating sensation in your pussy taking control of any rational thought. your poor clit throbs with a need for attention, especially under peter’s lustful gaze.

your juices cover his lips, now glowing pink and plump from his ferventful efforts. he’s a sight for sore eyes, and the rosy blush on his cheeks is enough to make your heart thump.

you watch with a gaping jaw when he reaches out with a finger and slowly begins to rub circles on your clit. slow. slow. slow. it’s like time has been slowed, or he somehow turned into a fucking sloth. they’re so. slow. it drives you crazy, and the pleasure almost... trickes through your veins.

you lose track of how long peter does that for—just drawing tender circles on your clit. you know you’re soaked and your eyes are practically crossing. your brain empties. all that matters is the pleasure slowly dispersing trough every inch of your limp from.

“your pussy is so pretty, baby,” he compliments. “so wet.”

“mmmhm...” you lick your lips.

“you like it when i do this, huh?” he asks, and god, he’s sounds so fucking innocent. but you know that if you open your eyes he’ll be smirking.

“yessss...”

“look,” he hums. there’s fascination in his tone as he stops rubbing to pick up a string of wetness leaking from your hole. he spreads it over your clit and incorporates it with the rest, the extra lubrication making his rubs even more torturous.

“p-please... need your mouth,” you whimper. fuck.

“mhm, okay.”

you nearly scream when his tongue reconnects with your pussy. the stimulation makes you dizzy and you’re heaving in a matter of seconds. instinctively, you find his hair, filing your fingers through his brown tousled locks before gripping it tightly. he moans harshly when you pull his face deeper into your cunt, your moans loud and sharp.

“taste so fucking good, baby,” he praises. “being so good for me right now. you gonna cum?”

“y-yes, fuck. peter. please, fuck, can i cum now?”

“yes, cum for me,” he coos, taking your clit one final time into his mouth.

you cum hard, your body convulsing with pleasure as it tears through every inch of you. your moans depress into whimpers and gasps, and your chest heaves.

I’ll be entirely honest, I thought of this too when I saw the prompt and already had some ideas running through my head. That being said, I think it wasn’t exact to the prompt, but I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it regardless xx

The way you said I love you [x] -

4. Over a cup of tea; blacksun

Word count: 1,154

“It seems like we’re making a habit of this, huh?”

The dark haired faunus smiled at his words, eyes kept steady on each porcelain cup before her as she gently tipped the kettle and filled them, one at a time. “I don’t know about you Sun, but I’ve always made a habit of drinking tea.”

Kali had always told her tea had been good for nervous stomachs, weary souls, tired limbs, and restless minds- all things that Blake had become all too acquainted with over the years. A cup of tea and a good book, and she would almost feel as though she were home again.

“It wasn’t my first choice when I was growing up in Vacuo, but I think it’s grown on me. And hey, the good company doesn’t hurt.” The cups were filled, kettle set neatly aside, and Sun gratefully took his serving when it was offered.

“Neither does the chance to rest.”

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: cabin | wc: 699 | rating: teen & up | tags: steve pov, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, good uncle wayne, sharing body heat, one bed, fluff, getting together

Wayne and Eddie have been so accommodating, so kind, and almost embarrassingly welcoming to him joining their annual ice fishing road trip to Michigan that asking for an extra blanket feels criminal. With how much they’ve opened their arms to him after his parents all but ghosted for the holiday season, he’d rather freeze to death in this fucking cabin than dare to ask for something as stupid as an extra blanket. Besides, the cabin is small enough that he and Eddie are sharing a room; eventually, he’ll come to bed, feel how cold it is for himself, and go grab extra blankets on his own. 

He’ll survive for as long as it takes for Eddie and Wayne to finish the spaghetti western they’d been watching when he came to bed. 

Steve’s been through worse. 

Cool moonlight streams in beneath the thick, plaid curtains and illuminates the far wall, accentuating its wooden details and the knickknacks lining the shelves— a collection of small, handmade stuffed wildlife, framed photos of the lake, books with worn spines well-loved over the years. It’s a quiet space, a sanctuary that Steve’s never had even if he might lose a few toes. 

Is the cabin the sanctuary? Or is it the rare time alone with Eddie? 

He tries not to think about how many times he’s thought of this over the last couple years, how often he’s laid in bed imagining Eddie coming to bed with him and not just in the ways that make him squirm and sweat. He’s pictured it a hundred times over: Eddie sneaking in beneath the covers, trying not to wake him up but it’s not like Eddie has ever been smooth a day in his life. Steve would wake up from a light sleep, turning over to welcome him in and pull him close, wrinkling his nose against Eddie’s frizzy curls as he buries his face in Steve’s neck. He’d listen to him breathe, feel his body grow heavier and heavier against Steve’s and fall asleep to the even cadence of his heartbeat. 

Steve takes a deep breath and shakes his head, focusing instead on the organic spirals and swirls of the logs that make up the cabin walls. With heavy-lidded eyes that grow heavier despite the cold, he traces the markings and imagines patterns and pictures in them the way he had the starts as a kid. One looks like a moose without its antlers, another like an abstract palm tree. He doesn’t find a third one, and falls asleep trying. 

When he wakes up a couple of hours later, Steve’s warm. 

Extra blankets, soft wool, weigh him down and he sighs into the comforting presence that engulfs him. One tattooed arm rests over his hip and another squeezes beneath his pillow, a hand outstretched with silver rings that cover each finger and gleam in the slivers of light that continue to creep in between the curtains. Blinking his eyes open and biting the inside of his cheek to make sure he’s not dreaming, Steve realizes the warmth he’d woken up chasing is Eddie. 

Do I move over? Does he realize I’m not a pillow? Does he actually want this the way I want this? Did I die of hypothermia after all? Does he— 

“You think really loud, Steve,” Eddie whispers into the dark, his lips moving against Steve’s hair as he squeezes him gently around the middle. “Is this okay?” 

“Mhm,” Steve hums. “You’re so warm.” 

“Good, you were shivering when I came to bed.” He feels Eddie chuckle behind him, quiet breaths against his neck. He wants to turn around, to tuck himself into Eddie’s comfort and maybe just never leave. 

“Didn’t wanna bother you or Wayne for another blanket. Kinda glad I didn’t now,” Steve admits, words slurring as his shoulders sag. He wiggles back, trying to get impossibly closer. 

“We’ll talk more about that in the morning.” Eddie squeezes a knee between Steve’s and tangles their legs together. 

Steve nods wordlessly, pulling the top blanket further up beneath his chin.