One thing golden era Wattpad writers had going for them was that they knew the importance of a buildup. I'm of the opinion that the sexual tension is WAY more satisfying to read than the actual sex and quite frankly there is a serious lack of non smutty writing.
Like I really miss reading fics/ x readers that start from scratch. Meeting the characters, initial reactions getting to know them, the tension the jealousy the TENSION the freaking tension.
Looking and looking away when they get spotted, touches that feel like they linger but perhaps they didn't and they're both so hot for each other that they think it's wishful thinking. And I don't mean just sweet sunshine romances, darker works can have a buildup too but it seems like so much is just about getting to the smut instead of the psychological aspect.
Tumblr Blog Termination Warning – FOR WRITERS WITH TAGLISTS!
Yesterday my entire blog was terminated TWICE without warning by Tumblr while I was tagging the folks in my Pope taglist in the comments. There was no warning, no email. I just hit 'enter' and boom I got the termination notice.
Almost 10k followers and thousands of fics gone in an instant.
I raised a ticket and an hour later the blog was reactivated. There was no info about what I did wrong but an email that said, it’s been reactivated. I still didn't have one that told me why I had been terminated. Two mins later I went back to the taglist and picked up where I left off with the Pope taglist and immediately, as soon as I clicked 'enter' it happened again.
So, I raised another ticket.
It’s my belief that they’ve activated a bot to stop scammers from tagging loads of folks in those ‘send me money for fake charity’ posts they do, and unfortunately if you have a big taglist you’ll fall into that net too.
I’m not sure how this effects people who put their taglists in the actual post, but I imagine they’ll also be cracking down on that at some point if scammers start to use that method.
I just wanted to make everyone aware so that what happened to me doesn’t happen to other people.
It wasn't usually for Andrew to take public transportation. He much rather do any of his commuting in his truck. If it keeps the interactions with others to a minimum, he'll prefer it everytime. But that changed when he met you. You didn't mind taking it. Though when you and Andrew first got together you slowly started to take a break from it. It was no need, not when your boyfriend seemed more than happy to be your little chauffeur.
You can't help but miss your little commute to work, the little walk you got in, the way the sun felt on your skin even when it was hidden by the cloudy sky that still managed to make its presence known. So you brought it up to Andrew, never having a feeling of having to tip-toe around your emotions or at least what was on your mind at the time. The two of you agree on one shift a week where you both would commit to the your comforting commute to work.
Andrew understood, the way you spoke of it, it was as if it was a pre-shift tradition that he came in to uprooted. He wouldn't have such a problem with it if it wasn't for such a late schedule, but he knew that came with the territory of the overnight life. So that might've be the reason it didn't take much to convince him to riding the bus with you. It was the next day, another shift. You had your bag over your shoulder and a cup filled with the only thing that kept you standing by the end of any shift. It was all starting to feel so familiar. Yet there was a difference, one that you didn't mind not one bit.
Andrew hooked himself under the strap of your bag, lifting it up and over your shoulder, with the sudden disappearance of weight you turn to watch him place it on his own shoulder. He gave you a questioning look as you just smiled taking his hand in yours as you left for the bus.
The bus surprisingly came on time. Andrew was right behind you, paying your fare for you both, slipping in a five, Y'all walked further on the bus. It wasn't packed leaving plenty of seats. You thought Andrew would prefer being closer to the back. So that's what you did, Andrew was attached to your hip, sitting not even a second later.
"You really like the bus ride?” Andrew ask genuine curiosity in his tone.
You look over at him, his back was straightened as his eyes continued to study the bus, the bus was at a red light giving him some time to glance your way.
"Mhm, I do a lot of thinking, sometimes a little work." The bus ride was a smooth thirty minutes long, not super long but definitely enough to save you a handful of times. That answer earned you a little hum from your boyfriend.
You put your hands in your pockets feeling your wires, you pulled them out. "Want to listen to music with me?"
He nodded his head, his eyes cut over to look down as you untangled the core, connecting to your phone. You hand it to him, which surprised him. He raised an eyebrow as a silent request to explain. "You pick," you placed one side of the earbuds in his ear, and the other in yours, before leaning your head against his shoulder.
He glanced at your phone which was now in his hand, he scrolled through your list of songs. But he decided to go more personal. He finally selected a song. "Reminds me of you."
With that, the song started to play. It was 'never too much' by Luther Vandross. You couldn't help but smile, thinking back to the days when you randomly liked to play music for Andrew to broaden his taste. This song was the time that played when Andrew first kissed you.
With the lyrics that played in the background coming up.
Jack has been holding onto a secret, usually he has no problem keeping them, but when the secret involve you? Worse, keeping it from you. Well it feels like the hardest thing to do when it comes to him. He was doing it though, staying strong. Even when it feels like the universe is against him, like right now.
There are two things that really stood out. First it was when your one of your friends got engaged, which turned into planting a little bug in your head that's already been digging in his brain for months now. Second thing was seeing you with his nieces.
This was more recent, and it was enough to give him a little idea of what like would look like when you two got married and started a family. That practically ruined him. It got to the point where Robby and Dana dragged his ass out to at least look at some rings.
He ended up buying one that day…
Robby and Dana weren't surprised that Jack already had your ring size, the way he talked about it, every hangout would end up being about the idea of you two getting married. They would be disgusted if it wasn't him. In all honesty they were just glad to see their friend so happy. Now what he didn't account for was his subconscious trying to fuck him and spoil everything.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
"I'm not being dramatic."
We're the words that finally wake you up out of your sleep, eyes blinking a couple of times, trying to get the sleep out of your eyes, peaking up to the time that was projected onto the ceiling. It was meant for your husband, but it feels like you're using it more than him, it's like he's in a daze, rolling over, getting his prosthetic on, getting out of bed, all without opening his eyes for more than a couple of seconds. He doesn't fully liven up until he gets his coffee.
You were already facing him, in a rare occurrence where Jack isn't tangled up with your body. The natural moonlight shining thought just enough that the four-sixteen on the ceiling didn't fully show, it was still early enough to go back to sleep, then you realized. Jack's eyes were closed, which brought a smile to your tired face.
It wasn't offered that this happened, but every time it does it's hilarious.
"I don't know, you could be sometime," you whispered, knowing he couldn't hear you, that was until.
"Not about this, I know she is," Jack replied, like actually replied as if he was awake. You never really tried to before, instead just watching and listening to his little murmured outburst until they became less and less.
You couldn't help but have your interest peeked at whom this 'she' might be, even though deep down you know it's you. He shows you every day that you're his one and only girl. "She is what Jackie?"
He let out a huff which you translated into sometime of laugh, "Robin, y'gotta pay attention. The one, she's the one. That spark I never thought I would ever have again." You try not to laugh, you will have to apologize to Robby for getting him in trouble. "Right, sorry?"
you took in how peaceful he looks, how his curls are so wild, how his chest rises and falls slowly and even. Your fingers danced along his freckled arms, which were lying flat against his midsection. "She makes you that happy, huh?"
He smiled, even in his sleep, letting out a satisfied hum. The small gesture made you heart explode. The idea of, the thought of you bringing that much joy to him. "So god-damn lucky, I'm going to mar-"
You panicked, your hand flying up to cover his mouth, all you could see was your boyfriend's eyes shoot open, and a hand wrapping around your wrist. He automatically studied you to see if it was anything physical wrong that he could see, before he pulled your hand away. "Are you okay?"
You couldn't help but blush. "I'm okay, you were just sleep talking, again" You looked down at him, taking his hand into yours, you could see the confusion etched on his face still. "I think you were about to say something I wasn't supposed to hear."
It's like the switch was flicked on, his eyes widened. A slight panic took over. "I didn't say anything..."
You shook your head. "I didn't really give you the chance."
Jack leaned up to kiss you. "See, this is why I love you. Sweetheart"
You smiled, saying, I love you back. That's when jack started to get up to get out of bed. Grabbing his crutches that were leaning against the nightstand.
"Where are you going?" You pouted.
"Couch, I'll get you some earplugs tomorrow," he kissed you once again this time on your forehead before leaving the room for the night. That was way too close for his liking...
︶︶ 🫐︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶🫐 ︶︶
♰ ────🍋🟩 ༺ ♱ ༻ ♰──♰༺ ♱ ༻🍋🟩 ──── ♰
Brunch Attempt - T.D
Wc: 981 ( wow...)
༻ ♰─ ♱ ─♰༺
You were taken out of your sleep from the smell of smoke? It was faint, so much so you thought you were dreaming. Once you did wake up, without turning your head you used your hand to feel around, tapping the cold bed a couple of times before reluctantly getting out of bed. You were felt more alert, but still not panicked yet.
You opened the bedroom door, it was quiet. With the light chirping from neighboring birds filling in the space. It made sense given the distance from any of the main rooms that would normally have the most foot traffic, as per your husband's request.
As the dark, never-ending halls finally had a break of light admitting from a room in the close distance. It was the kitchen, you knew that by the sounds of movement becoming more noticeable at you approached. It was slightly frantic, heavy. Footsteps steps you grow to be able to identify as your husband’s.
"Titus?"
You called out to him, the movement stopped, 'Did he just stop in his tracks, literally?'
It is definitely one of the thoughts that crossed your mind at that moment.
"The kitchen, Love" He finally answered.
"What are you doing' up so early?" you added, finding yourself moving farther down the hall. The open door was getting closer by the second, and so was the strength of the smell of something burning.
You were welcomed to the sight of what only screamed being ‘boarder-line overwhelmed’. Titus held a pot, placing down… well, you're not really sure what it was exactly it is by your eyes met Titus as he shifted a little.
Titus's eyes shot up to your standing form in the doorway, arms crossed over itself with a face that read one question.
'What the hell is going on?'
"Was trying to make you something' for breakfast ," he admitted in defeat.
"You were? Why would-"
"You mentioned it." He didn't mean to cut you off, but he just couldn’t help it, always having an impulse to justify his actions, no doubt from his time living with his father. "How much you love cooking with someone?" There was a flushed look on his face.
You raised an eyebrow, you had been with this man for years. Never have you seen him like this, his face having spots of flour? Some even got on his pajama shirt. A couple of dishes are freshly washed, while others are ignored. The biggest problem being that pot that he held. It was completely burnt at the center of it.
"Oh," you do remember saying that, it was a passing comment. Nothing real behind those words. You smiled, walking closer to the seemingly stressed taller man. "You didn't have to go through all that, My love."
You look around at what was supposed to be breakfast. "So, what was on the menu?" You say playfully, reaching over to one of the few pieces of bacon that made it out the oven alive. Taking a piece, popping it in your mouth to snack on.
Titus's eyes followed yours. He appreciates how calm you're being over the messed-up kitchen. He wasn't used to such treatment, not to this degree. "I wanted to try," he shrugged, "clearly, I’m not meant for the kitchen."
"Eggs, bacon and pancakes, simple. So I thought." Titus finished giving you the run down of the supposed menu.
You nod as you hold back the laugh you wanted to let out, at your husband pout. You could see little bits and pieces of proof of his attempt, maybe attempts.. of each item. "Well, maybe we should start with someone being with you." You started, eye studying his reaction to the idea of learning to cook before you spoke again.
"I know someone who's pretty good at it once the apron is on. Who! Is a thousand percent down to help you learn." You smiled, rounding the island table, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, not caring for the mess.
Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow, a smirk already forming on his face. "Oh, do you now?" He lowered the pot, forgetting about it, his damped hands going to your waist, facing you fully now. "I mean if she's offering." He signed, a small so effort one just to be dramatic. "But, I much rather work this sexy woman in front of me. That i somehow get the pleasure of calling my wife." His tone was playful, it was always with you. Hands quick to pull you closer.
"Well, I guess you're the luckiest man on earth. Because that's exactly what you get, handsome." One of your hands moving up, to rest on the back of his head. Gently, you guide him closer to you cutting the distance, as your lips meeting his.
Your eyes closed as you leaned into his embrace, his hands snaking farther around your waist, trapping into the kiss. It wasn't until his tongue peaked out begging for permission did you break the kiss. Smiling between uneven breaths as his lips followed yours for a little before giving up pursuit when you got too far. "So when do you want your first lesson?"
He was disappointed the kiss had ended, not wanting it to end just yet. His eyes already showing it, eyes locked on yours. ‘Smiling too? you must be enjoying this.’ That's when he heard it. Ears peeking at the question. "Now?" Then he took in the mess he had already created.
"If you want"
His eyes shot back to yours.
"We just need to clean the mess. It's not a lot. You did pretty well cleaning as you go." You can still see his eyes peak down at the pot.
"Just trash the pot, honey. We can always get a new one." You give him one more little kiss to the lips before rolling your sleeves up.
"New set," he replied, you had an amused look as you watched him discard the ruined pot. "To practice with…" he finished off once he noticed the face you were giving him.
"Right, whatever you say, Love."
♰ ────🍋🟩 ༺ ♱ ༻ ♰──♰༺ ♱ ༻🍋🟩 ──── ♰
‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿୨🍑୧‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿୨🍑୧‿︵‿
Sunday Football - B.R
wc: 874
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
Brett has been a sports fan, ever since he was young. It was just something that him and his dad could sit around and bond over. But as the years passed, it shifted to a more personal appreciation for sports. It became something he could genuinely enjoy outside the job, the past couple years even more than usual.
Then you came along, and he had a new person to share his love for the game with.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
A whistle came from the TV, followed by an annoyed groaning from your boyfriend. You couldn't help but smile to yourself, washing your face with a cleaner, eyes following the movement of your hand in the mirror. You had slept in, with it just turning twelve. Even so you still wanted to do your morning routine before joining Brett on the couch.
You were wrapping up when he called out for you
"I think I need my lucky charm, baby," you rolled your eyes at his, 'stupid nickname' for you, yet you couldn't help but smile to yourself.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
You remember after your third date he insisted on calling you that. Ever since you two had a home date, Brett had been sneakily checking his phone. The whole date, that was until you confronted him.
"Is there somewhere you're needed?"
You would think was deer the way Brett looked at you, like he was caught in headlights. "No, it's not like that." He said sheepishly,
"Well?"
He sighed, not out of annoyance or frustration, more so out of embarrassment of getting caught looking at his phone on a date. "It's the game, it's on right now,"
You playfully groan, "Great, now I have to compete with sports too."
"Wait, it's not like that- You wouldn't." Brett tried to defend.
You had a smile on your face, but once you could see the worry on his face, you straightened up on your couch.
"It's okay, I know." You paused for a moment. "Would you want to watch the game? Maybe this movie could be saved for our next date."
His eyes widened, before a smile came onto his face, a slight uptick that was on the thin line of being a smirk. "Our next date?"
You shoved his shoulder, of course thats what he picked to zone in on out of your offer.
You snuggled into his side, as you two watched the game, winning after a three-game losing streak. Barely awake by the time the game ended, only knowing when you felt Brett's lips against your forehead, as he picked you up whispering ‘goodnight, lucky' that night before you fully passed out in his arms.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
"Here I come," you replied back, going to your now shared bedroom. You looked around for something to put on. That's when you saw it. It was a jersey, but it wasn't a pro. No, this one was old and worn. You smiled, plucking it out of the closet, turning it around your thumb over the vinyl that was in the shape of a 'R'. You remembered him mentioning his stint in sports during his school days.
You slipped it on, the end of the jersey stopping at just above your knees. You wouldn't be too cruel slipping on some panties and pajama shorts,
Finally, you stopped outside the room, his eyes were on his phone, probably texting his friends about the game. The first half had already ended. The commentators were taking their moment to share their thoughts and some stats from the game.
As your relationship with Brett grew, so did your ability to pick up on small things about the game that normally you wouldn't have noticed. Like when things were starting back up, players were making their way onto the field, you took this as your opportunity to sit next to him without your attire being noticed yet.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
You were starting to lose hope as the game continued. It was two minutes of the fourth, it seemed like his team was down the way he was at the edge of his seat, one hand intertwined with yours.
His team had the ball, giving them one more attempt to close the three-point game, with only ten yards for a touchdown.
You squeezed his hand and gave him silent support.
He brought the back of his hand up, kissed it.
The whistle went off, the play was in motion. After a couple of seconds, the QB snapped the ball, faking the pass to run it into the end zone for the good ol classic 'QB sneak'. Getting the touchdown with thirty seconds on the clock, both teams hurried to get the ball off with no luck. Brett's team won.
"You just keep on proving' why you're my lucky charm," he had a cocky tone in his voice. It was quickly snubbed when he finally noticed what you were wearing.
"Where did you—?"
"Your closets, or should I say ours?" you shrugged, as his eyes studied you.
"You can call it whatever you'd like, Sweetheart." He said, guiding you to now being on his lap, 'Oh, that's just plain evil,' he thought to himself, placing his hand on your waist, feeling the shorts you had underneath.
"Now, how about a post-game celebration?"
You could only laugh as his antics, but then one of his fingers went under your chin, leaning forward to meet you half way to embrace your lips with his.
You know that your job is soo good when you become one of(or the most) carismatic bad guy of Chicago PD and even dead, people saying that they miss you and call CPD writters cowards for killing you.
SUMMARY: There's a photographer in the firehouse. Kelly catches him where he shouldn't be.
WARNINGS: mentions of vomit (reader gets thrown up on), mentions of photographer taking photos of naked reader (doesn't happen though)
W/C: 1.1k
"It's a good thing I have a strong stomach," you grumbled bitterly, halfway out of your seat before Brett had even stopped the ambulance. "But if I don't shower soon, I'm going to start itching."
Brett laughed and killed the engine. "Yeah, it's gonna smell in here for a while."
"Ha."
You walked around the side of the ambulance and saw Kelly sitting with Matt and the photographer that was spending a day in-house to observe and capture authentic firehouse moments. Ever since he'd shown up that morning, he'd been following you and Brett around, the click of his camera providing the backdrop of your workday. It was getting on your nerves, so the callouts were welcome respite from it. Until this one.
When Kelly saw you, he grinned, cigar hanging loosely from his fingers. "What the hell happened to you?"
"I do not want to talk about it," you said, holding your hands up in surrender.
The front of your coat was covered in vomit, an unfortunate consequence of the call you'd just returned from. The smell was lingering in your nostrils and you just wanted to shower and wash away the memory.
"I'm going to shower," you said. "Then maybe I'll be in the mood to talk."
Kelly huffed a laugh. "Good idea. I can smell you from here."
Rolling your eyes, you moved closer to Kelly and watched him grimace as you did. "You're telling me you don't want some of this?"
Kelly raised his foot, intercepting your approach. "You know I do, but not until you shower."
"Get outta here," Matt said, chuckling. "You're interrupting my peace and fresh air."
"Alright, alright," you said. "If you don't see me for a while, assume I'm trying to scrub off a layer of skin in the shower."
You blew Kelly a kiss and headed inside to the showers. Cruz tried to stop you and ask what had happened, but one glare had him raising his hands and sending you on your way. Everybody knew better than to try and talk to you when that look crossed your face. The last time someone did, well... Herrmann had never been the same.
Back outside, Brett leaned against the wall and said, "We had a guy face down on Racine. Rolled him over and... bleugh, all over her. 50/50 chance it could've been me, but I am glad it wasn't."
"I can't imagine she feels the same," Kelly said. Matt grinned.
"No, I doubt it," Brett replied.
"Hey, uh, I'm gonna go and get some coffee," Nate, the photographer, said. "You guys want anything?"
A chorus of 'no's were returned to him and he disappeared into the house after snapping a couple of photos of Brett. Glancing down at his cigar, Kelly kicked his feet down from where they'd been resting on a stool and stood up.
"I'll be back in a minute," he said. "Nobody touch my cigar."
Matt raised his eyebrows. "No worries."
Kelly looked at Brett, who shook her head. "I'm not touching it."
Heading inside, Kelly made his way to the bathrooms, intending on maybe gatecrashing your shower once you'd gotten rid of the initial smell of vomit. He wandered past the toilet stalls, taking off his jacket as he went, before he spotted someone else moving around in the showers. Furrowing his eyebrows, Kelly quickened his pace and rounded the corner only to be met with the sight of Nate holding his camera up as though waiting to take photos of you. In the shower.
"Hey!"
If there was one person on this Earth that Kelly Severide would do anything for, it was you. There was hardly a line he wouldn't cross if it meant keeping you safe, and seeing a man waiting to take photos of you at your most vulnerable sent white-hot rage coursing through him.
His hands shoved Nate towards the opposite wall, where he grasped the man by the jacket and pinned him. "What the hell are you doing?"
"What the hell is wrong with you, man?" Nate yelled. "Get off me!"
"What's going on?"
Your head was peering out of the shower cubicle, dripping water onto the floor. Kelly looked over at you and said, "I just caught him trying to take pictures of you."
You were out of the shower now, wrapping a towel around your body. "In- In the shower?"
"Yeah," Kelly snapped, dragging Nate from the wall and shoving him. "Get your camera and get the hell out of this firehouse."
"Hey, man, you got the wrong-"
"No, I don't think I did," Kelly snapped, taking a step to position himself between you and Nate. "Get the hell out. I won't ask again."
Nate looked once at you, still dripping water onto the floor at your feet, towel wrapped securely around your body, and then at Kelly, whose fists were clenched at his sides like he was holding himself back from throwing a punch.
By the time he was gone, you felt some of the shock subside. Kelly turned to you and his name spilled from your lips in a whisper. "Kel?"
He raised a hand to you, his jaw clenched, before he stormed from the bathroom.
You let him go, hurrying to dress yourself again. Rushing and getting stuck in your t-shirt because you weren't completely dry, you ran from the bathroom and almost collided with Kelly on your way out of the door. A shriek of surprise left you as he clapped his hands on your shoulders to steady you, a laugh leaving his lips at the expression on your face.
"You okay?"
"You scared me!" you said, holding a hand to your chest. "Jesus, I was scared you'd start a fight."
"I was close," Kelly said. "I would've taken that guy's head off."
"While I appreciate you being so willing to defend my honour, it's okay-"
"It's not okay," Kelly said, his grip tightening on your shoulders. "He shouldn't have even come close to you in there."
"But he didn't-"
"Stop trying to justify this," Kelly said. "I already told Boden. He wants to see us in his office."
You sighed. "Kelly-"
"I know, I know, you're gonna tell me not to make a big deal about it," Kelly said. "Unlucky for you, I'm making a big deal out of this."
You grimaced. "Fine."
"Are you okay, though?" he asked.
"Yeah," you said softly. "I'm fine. Thanks for... you know, being there."
"Yeah, that jackass ruined my chance of getting you alone in the showers," Kelly said, shaking his head.
Grinning up at him, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips and whispered, "When we get home, I'll show you just how grateful I am for you playing the hero."
Kelly's hands rested on your hips and pulled you closer. "Sounds good to me," he murmured, kissing you again. "C'mon, let's go find Boden."
You sighed. "Yeah, okay."
Getting through the rest of the shift would be the longest hours of your life.
You being woken up because he won’t stop wiggling closer to you, arms like a vice around your waist and his face buried in your neck.
His scruff tickling and scratching against you as he kisses your throat and shoulder, nose gliding along your cheek as he mumbles. “G’mornin’, babe.”
He’s so handsy and needy in the morning. Always touching and squeezing you, kneading at your soft thighs or your ass, tugging you flush to him. It isn’t meant to be sexual, he just can’t stop feeling your body and memorizing it.
LAZY MORNING MAKE OUT SESSIONS. Lips glued to yours as he kisses you soft and sleepy, hand cupping your cheek and keeping you close to him, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
Sometimes there’s the lazy morning sex he loves so much. He takes his sweet time, to the point you’re both almost late for work. Slow, deep thrusts, enjoying the feel of your walls holding him snug. He drinks up the sounds of your soft whines, his own throaty groans muffled against your neck.
Breakfast in bed!! He loves getting to wake up early and make you guys food, setting it up on trays and spending the morning eating and talking with you.
Sometimes he’ll just wake up early and admire you. The soft peacefulness of your face, the way the sun is falling over your body. The way the sheets are tangled around your bare leg, showing the full curves of your thigh. He just adores you.
