#Firefighter AU

[hongjoongspoetry]

Just Another Night, Until You | Choi San

❤️‍🔥 Summary: Hectic nights at work is nothing out of the ordinary for you, but when a man is wheeled into the Intensive Care Unit with second degree burns all over his body and in the need of immediate medical attention, your life takes a turn as his body heals on his own by the mere presence of you. Shocked by the discovery, you stay by his side as he recovers and together you come to terms with your unexpected connection.

❤️‍🔥 Pairing(s): Firefighter!San x Emergency physician!Reader

❤️‍🔥 Genres/Tropes: Soulmate AU, non-idol AU, best friend's brother, oldest daughter and youngest son, slice of life, fluff

❤️‍🔥 Warnings/Tags: female reader, no use of (Y/N), brief description of burn injuries, medical setting, san is living up to his romance-cat title, pet names (darling, my love, love, honey), MC is a Jeong, a lot of physical intimacy, kisses gallore, san is down bad for the MC, brief description of motorcycle accident and fractured bones (not explicit), the fear of losing loved ones, emotional exhaustion, a few swear words, not beta read!

❤️‍🔥 Wordcount: 7.5K

❤️‍🔥 Author's Note: Click the image for a better resolution (Tumblr I hate you). Wihooo! And there goes the second to last instalment of the March Event ;-; im lowkey sad it's ending soon although it gives me more time to work on other stuff!! anyhow, this one was really fun to write and I hope you'll enjoy it, be prepared for a lot of love sick sannie 🥹 Btw I'm not a nurse/doctor or have any "proper" knowledge regarding how things go down in the E.R or hospital for that matter either, so this is all based on excessive research. Thank you for your understanding!

This is all fiction and not meant to represent any idols involved in any way or form. This work is rated SFW, however it contains mature scenes such as descriptions of serious injuries, medical procedures as well as adult language. Minors, please, read at your own risk and refrain from interacting or following my blog!

AO3 Masterpost Moodboard Event taglist

It was an exceptionally calm hour in Seoul National University Hospital. Most nights were bustling with life, whether it’d be residential patients abusing the call button, relatives refusing to leave after visiting hours were over or an incoming emergency putting the whole hospital in a fit. But not tonight. The clock hanging on the wall opposite of the nurse’s station in the emergency department recently struck midnight. You slumped down by your desk as Haneul, your roommate, best friend and fellow colleague, dragged her legs behind her and nearly toppled over her seat. You finished off the last rounds of checking in on the inpatients on your floor, yet your social batteries were already drained and the nightshift had just started. 

Haneul blew a raspberry before her head dropped onto the desk with a soft thud. She groaned and threw herself back on the chair, her arms extended and legs elevated. Her slip-on shoes barely hung onto her feet and she wasn’t faring any better.

“I’m so tired,” she complained and went limp in her seat. “I can’t wait to clock out and return to my boyfriend.”

You let out an amused huff, the pencil twirling in your fingers coming to a stop as you caught it mid air. “You mean your bed?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Ha-ha, really funny Haneul.”

“It’s a bit funny, admit it!”

You rolled your eyes at her, but couldn’t fight off the smile that spread across your face. It was never a dull moment when in Haneul’s company. You were certain that even if death were around the corner, she’d still find a way to make the situation feel light. That was probably why you two had hit it off at university. She was mostly, if not always, in a cheerful mood, while you walked around with a dark cloud over your head. Had it not been for Haneul approaching you solely because your shirt was similar to one of her favorite character’s outfits in a drama, you probably would never have become friends. A decade later and you were tighter than two peas in a pod, and even decided — after your first semester — to move into a flat together which was still your current home.

“Whatever… I can’t complain as it’s at least a quiet night.”

The unspoken rule of never mentioning the obvious flashed before your eyes and you cowered from the blazing look Haneul shot your way. The air was caught in your throats and neither dared to move an inch from your places. You slowly turned your head sideways, waiting for a patient to peek their head out or scream that their pillow needed puffing up. As the empty hallway continued staying silent and the motion sensor lights didn’t turn on, you exhaled in relief.

“You got lucky there,” she said and logged into her computer. 

As you parted your mouth to answer, a voice broke through from the radio placed on the wall-mounted brackets. A report concerning a handful of people who were hurt in a fire set loose in an apartment came through and everyone ditched their tasks to get ready for the newcomers. You and Haneul, along with other nurses, ran to the trauma bay and occupied a room each where you, hopefully not, would get a patient each. The sound of multiple sirens grew louder the faster the ambulances sped toward the hospital and didn’t stop until the flashes of red and blue colored the building. Despite being employed for two years and counting, you never got accustomed to the ear piercing noise or blinding lights.

“Nurse Kim, could you prepare the wound care kit? Nurse Hwang, bring the respiratory support system. We don’t know what we’re dealing with so we need to expect the worst!”

The commotion from the triage area reached your room as the patients were being rolled into the hospital and underwent the initial assessment of their conditions. The code red patients would fall into your hands and you, together with your team, would do your utmost to lessen their injuries. You put the other glove on and waited by the door of your room. The sight before you was jarring to say the least. The victims of the fire were all in different conditions. Some crying and wincing from the burnmarks while others lay completely still as if the burned skin wasn’t a painful inconvenience. The wonders of falling unconscious. An elderly nurse with a couple of years beneath her belt pushed a stretcher toward you and you hastily moved out of the way. 

Nurse Yeon quickly spewed the little information she knew of the unconscious patient, but you couldn’t focus on her words. Your entire attention was given to the man before you. He looked peaceful despite the soot smudged across his face and several burn marks littering the majority of his body. He was also handsome — very handsome. That, you couldn’t deny. His black strands fell over his closed eyes and brows. Most of his features were sharp and defined, red heart-shaped lips in a slight pout, a long nose with a prominent bridge, high cheekbones and a few beauty marks peeking out from beneath the smeared ash. But you knew that, out of everything, his most alluring feature was his eyes — even when closed. You could see the feline-like shape that reminded you of a panther in the wild and you found yourself wondering what color they were. A tingle erupted along the pads of your fingers, almost begging you to move his hair out of the way. 

“...He was found unconscious in the building after being caught in the fire. Red category. He has second-degree burns on twenty percent of his body, severe smoke inhalation and is currently in respiratory distress. We’ve initiated oxygen therapy. BP is low and bolus fluids were administered to stabilize circulation. He is unresponsive, likely due to hypoxia.”

Nurse Yeon brought you back to the present and you ignored the highly unprofessional thought. With the help of Nurse Kim, you connected him to a monitoring machine and proceeded with the remaining steps of the protocol drilled into your spine. You administered high-flow oxygen via a non-rebreather mask to address the smoke inhalation and to prevent breathing issues later on.

Facing away from the patient to grab a scalpel in order to cut his already torn shirt, you just about turned your head and called out, “Nurse Kim, give him an IV fluid with saline to prevent shock and maintain blood pressure as well as a light dose of morphine to relieve him of pain. Nurse Hwang, hand me the scalpel, please.”

The nurses wasted no time following your orders. While Nurse Kim stabilized the patient’s blood pressure, you drove the sharp end of the scalpel through the center of his shirt to expose the injured area and assess what else you had to work with. As expected, there were blotches of irritated, red skin all over his upper body. It didn’t look too bad but would scar if left untreated. Your main concern was the smoke inhalation, but the high-flow oxygen proved effective, as the pulse oximeter showed that the oxygen saturation in his blood was slowly improving and you could swiftly move on to treat his wounds.

“Nurse Hwang, hand me the antiseptic soluti–”

A horrified gasp cut you off mid sentence and your head flung to the doorway where a nurse — a trainee at that — stood with her wide eyes and mouth hanging open behind her health mask. The interruption crawled beneath your skin like electricity. You glanced down at her nametag.

“Trainee Park?”

The student didn’t budge nor make a noise of acknowledgement and you had half a mind to terminate the established contract between the hospital and nursing school. You understood the weight of students gaining hands-on experience in a hospital setting, but it was beyond the agreement for a student to interrupt a life alternating moment for the patient.

“Trainee Park I won’t ask you a second time, what is it?!” 

Antiseptic solution in hand, you faced the student again, though her focus wasn’t on you but on something behind you. A line formed between your brows as you followed her gaze, leading to what she was staring at. Your patient still lay unconscious, his chest rising and falling in rhythmic motion, but you weren’t caught off guard by his regulated breathing. The patches of glaring red skin that previously looked painful to the eye were replaced with a lighter hue as if his body was recovering on its own. It was inhumane and in all your years as both a student and a licensed doctor, you had never seen anything like it. However, everyone in the room knew exactly what it meant.

“Fuck…”

One of the male nurses found the patient’s ID-card in the cardholder neatly tucked in the pocket of his pants while changing him into a hospital gown, but it was the teary look on Haneul after seeing the man’s face that everything clicked in place. Choi San, the little brother of your best friend, was your soulmate. 

The realization didn’t hit you while standing in the center of the trauma room or when his injuries healed more quickly beneath the touch of your finger. The fact that you had found your soulmate dawned on you early one morning, as you were making rounds between the remaining victims of the apartment fire and came across his room — the last patient to be checked on. The thought of finding your soulmate hadn’t crossed your mind in years. It was locked away in your old high school classroom, along with your youth, when you used to fret over who your soulmate might be. Would they be a foreigner? A celebrity? A boy or a girl? Rich, kind, or rude? The possibilities seemed endless, and you often spent more time daydreaming about the different outcomes than focusing on your studies. It was a miracle you didn’t fail most of your classes.

It was only when you set a goal that you lost interest in who your soulmate was and dedicated more of your time to studying. Little by little, as assignments piled up, you pushed the thought of your other half to the back of your mind and forgot about it. Of course, there were instances when the topic would come up every now and then — meeting distant relatives for the first time in forever and having them ask about your partner, or going out to dinner with Haneul and watching her get so drunk she forgets her own name, but still manages to make bets. Looks like you’d be treating her to that BBQ after all.

You entered the room and stopped at the end of the patient bed staring at San’s sleeping form. The harmless jealousy seeped into your bones as he lay there oblivious to the turmoil wrecking havoc inside of you and you wondered if, despite his unconscious state, he could feel even a glimpse of your emotions. Because you could feel him throughout your entire shift. The change in breathing, eyes fluttering, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as if he was right there with you.

The joke you once cracked to Haneul when you first started working there, something along the lines of finding your soulmate while tending to their wounds, wasn’t funny anymore and left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. You sighed and glanced down at the patient chart hanging off the bedside. His vitals were good. More than good considering he was being driven straight from a burning building. Doctor Jung ran some tests on him during the night and they confirmed that San suffered greatly until he arrived at the hospital, until he reached you.

The doors of the room were violently pushed open and the eldest Choi entered as if her brother wasn’t lying there unconscious. Her unexpected arrival stopped your thoughts from spiraling further and your heart from racing into palpitations. It was weird to see her lips pressed into a thin line and eyes void of light, replacing her usual dimpled smile that would brighten your day. 

“How is he?” She eventually asked and buried her hands in the pockets of her white coat.

You cleared your throat and mimicked her stance, both of you focused on the resting man. “He’s healthier than a newborn baby.”

Five hours of constantly being on your feet, moving around and not having the chance to take a five minute toilet break put you in a hazy mist. It wasn’t until now that you felt the weight of the situation sink in. Who would’ve thought your best friend’s brother was your soulmate?

“You know,” Haneul started and broke you out of your thoughts. “I’m happy it’s you. Someone I know and trust as much as I trust myself.”

The words were oddly warm and spread a branch of hope through you. While you were too caught up with your work and then your own feelings, you didn’t stop to think what Haneul thought of everything. Her two worlds were colliding and it could either be good or bad.

“Is it weird?”

“Not at all… It’s the best thing I could ask for. That my best friend and brother get along… Just…” Haneul gnawed on the side of her bottom lip and turned to you, “Just don’t hurt him, Jeong. San is a tough cookie, but he has a fragile heart and I really don’t want to ever choose between you. You are both very dear to me.”

“You won’t have to. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t hurt him even if I tried.”

Haneul chuckled despite the tears making their escape down her cheeks. “Is it really like how they say? Are you already… affected by him?”

You breathed out a laugh at that. The countless nights spent talking and making fun of other couples who had already found their happily ever after were sure biting you in the ass, because it was, in fact, exactly how they said it would be. The unexplainable pull drawing you toward him, the yearning to be by his side and feeling him everywhere. Every skip of his heart, harsh intake of air and twitch of his fingers were all transferred to you

“Yeah, it’s exactly how they say it is.”

Haneul eventually left to do her last rounds and finish writing reports until the sun peeked over the horizon, signaling the end of your second night shift that week. San didn’t wake up until a few hours later and despite being hooked to a monitor regulating his state and showing nothing out of the ordinary, you didn’t leave his side for even a second. The dread of another emergency report coming through squeezed your abdomen until you were on the verge of puking. Just the thought of parting from him almost sent you hurling your insides in the guest bathroom. You were lucky to have wonderful colleagues who understood the circumstances and reassured you multiple times not to worry about finishing your reports or doing rounds. Nurse Hwang and Kim even passed by with snacks and water before returning to work.

The clock struck early morning when your chin slid off your knuckles and you were unpleasantly awoken from your slumber. The fear of falling to your death had you jumping out of your seat and taking in your surroundings. The sun gently shone through the windows occupying the entire left side of the room and filled the space with auburn streaks kissing your face. The warm rays seeped through the cherry blossom trees planted along the outskirts of the hospital. You found the view to be exceptionally beautiful during the early mornings when the pink petals detached from the branches, swirling in the air like snowflakes and covering the boring cement pavement..

A laser like heat bored into the side of your head and you scanned the room to find the source, only to get lost in the eyes of your soulmate. A wide smile stretched across his face and you realized the dimple gene ran deep in the Choi family as an identical pair to Haneul’s popped on San’s cheeks. You couldn’t shake away the image of a content and well fed cat at the sight of him. 

San immediately shifted the blanket to the side and had one bare foot planted on the floor, ready to leap out of bed and wrap you in his arms. The man just about managed to stand on both legs when you rushed from your seat and gently pushed him back down.

“No, no, please, sit!”

San fell back on the mattress without much of a fight. The moment your hand made contact with his shoulder, an explosion of tingles erupted along your palm, spreading like wildfire through your arm and out to the rest of your limbs, reaching the tips of your toes and fingers. The air caught in your throat and, like magnets forced together, your eyes found his again. Neither of you had to vocalize the question balancing on the tip of your tongues, asking if the other felt that crackling fire. San sensed the twinge of worry squeezing at your heart and hummed in content, he reached out and grabbed one of your hands in his to ease the burden atop your shoulders. He smiled so hard his eyes turned into crescent moons and hadn’t you known better, you’d think he’d start purring like a cat receiving ear scratches. 

“I’m fine. I don’t need rest because you are here.”

You ignored the heat pooling beneath your cheeks at his rather flamboyant response and steered the conversation elsewhere. “What were you thinking running into a burning building?”

The words came out effortlessly, as if you had known him since your youth.

“I didn’t do it on purpose…” He began and jutted out his bottom lip. “My feet just moved on their own, call it an instinct. Besides, I couldn’t just leave everyone inside. I’d put shame on the entire fire department!”

“Curse you for being reckless and kind hearted, San.”

“Yet thanks to my recklessness, I landed in the hospital and found you.”

The cheeky reply nearly made you pop a blood vessel. You didn’t understand how he could be so calm after facing death less than eight hours ago. The monitor attached to him shouldn’t have been stable. Based on your past experience with burn victims, San should’ve been startled and shaken up, and in some uncomfortable pain. Instead, he remained unnervingly composed, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you question your own knowledge. His calmness felt unnatural, given the circumstances. The heart rate monitor, which should’ve shown elevated readings due to stress, stayed oddly steady and only spiked up when you spoke, moved or looked at him for too long.

“San… we are soulmates. We would’ve met eventually,” you hissed, trying to mask the look of realization on your face. The soulmate bond explained his calm demeanor. As he said, he was fine now that you were there, while you just wanted to cover him in bubble wrap and not let him out of your sight.

“Yes, but not soon enough.”

You abandoned the conversation for now as it wouldn’t lead anywhere. San was deadset on his decision being correct even though it was a foolish one and you still had a job to do. Ignoring the way he followed your every movement, a polite smile and creased eyes never leaving your form, you adjusted his pillows and checked the IV attached to his forearm. 

“Do you need anything else?”

“Hmmm, just you.”

Had you met under different circumstances, perhaps in a grocery store where you'd bump carts together or on a packed bus where he’d give up his seat for you and stand by your side to shield you from the other commuters, his charms would’ve worked. But you didn’t. Instead San decided to search the burning building for others with no gear, just his strong will and hope clinging onto his back, and all his attempts at flirting were futile as you couldn’t get the image of his unconscious body out of your head.

“Too bad,” you settle on saying. “You can’t have me before twelve PM.”

The pout intensified and he even crossed his arms in retaliation. Seeing a man in his late twenties throw a silent tantrum wasn’t something you thought you’d ever find endearing, but there you were, suppressing a laugh and yearning to smooth out the wrinkles on his forehead. 

“Do you have to go?” He whispered and looked up at you through his lashes.

“Yes, unless you want me to be fired?”

“Fine! But the second that clock hits twelve, you and I are both getting out of here.”

“You can’t just leave, San, they have to run tests and–”

“I’ve never felt better and I think every doctor in the building can agree with me. What I will be if I don’t get to spend time with you is sick, and sad, and heartbroken and–”

“I get it, I get it!”

San lived up to his promise of spending time with you. In fact, he wasted no time running down the hallway the moment the minute hand switched to twelve, asking everyone dressed in white cloaks where Doctor Jeong was. The question left his mouth for the tenth time that minute just as you rounded the corner, ready to check out. San gave you all of three seconds to bid your colleagues goodbye before whisking you away. His plan of getting to know you consisted of lying tangled up on his sofa with a meaningless movie playing in the background, while his fingers caressed your back and his eyes shifted back to you every other second, as if he couldn’t believe you were real. 

You weren’t faring any better. Your head was neatly tucked beneath his chin, and your hand was splayed over his right pectoral, the tips of your fingers gently rubbing soothing motions beneath the curve of his collarbone. Had you known your soulmate would be a kitten with separation anxiety, you’d have stalled on meeting him for a little while longer. Although, deep down, you knew that was a lie. San was everything you needed him to be and more: attentive, gentle, sweet, kind, caring — the list was truly endless. 

The days spent cocooned together — San on sick leave to recover from the accident and you having the next two days off from work — made up for the thirty-something years you hadn’t been in each other’s lives. In just forty-eight hours, you created a bond that most lifelong best friends would envy. He shared embarrassing stories from his and Haneul’s childhood days — sweet memories of how his mother dressed him in Haneul’s hand-me-downs, despite her closet mainly consisting of flower dresses and cute skirts. In return, you told him about that one time you accidentally locked your parents out on the balcony and then hurled your breakfast back out from the anxiety and fear of never seeing them again. If only little you could have understood the wonders of spare keys and that your grandmother was already on her way to solve the issue. 

The first night was spent staying up late, talking about heartfelt stories and niche interests to the point where you both passed out and didn’t wake up until late afternoon the next day. Who knew your hunk of a fireman liked collecting sweet plushies and was adamant on learning how to crochet?

That wasn’t everything though. A week into your freshly established relationship and San hadn’t missed to stop by your workplace once to give you lunch, coffee, midnight snacks or a quick peck on the cheek. It was easy in the beginning when San didn’t return to work for an entire week. The soulmate bond proved that he wasn’t in need of resting as much as his company thought and he eventually had to return earlier than expected. It was weird to be glued to each other for hours on end to then not be able to see each other because of your hectic schedules that never seemed to align. When you’d return home from a long night shift, he was dressed and ready to leave. 

You voiced your worries to Haneul during a lunch break, saying how you were afraid of moving too fast, but now that you barely got to spend time together, it felt like you were moving at a snail’s pace. She mildly reassured you that it craved more than some social distance for your soulmate bond to break and that it would take some time for you to find your footing in the relationship.

However, working multiple shifts a week while running on little to no sleep left you too exhausted to plan an outing whenever an opportunity for the two of you to spend time together appeared. Date-night looked different in the Choi-and-Jeong books. Instead of glamming up and booking a reservation at a fancy restaurant, you decided to stay in and watch a movie that would sooner or later be forgotten as you’d be too enamoured with each other. Haneul walked in on one too many make-out sessions, and thus, you came to the decision to host movie nights strictly at San’s apartment.

Like many times before, you lay atop San, his legs parted, giving you the option to cage his left one between yours. One of his arms was bent and propped behind his head to act as a cushion, while the other was curled around you, his hand pressing against the small of your back in a comforting embrace. Your cheek was mushed against his chest and your hand limply rested on his bicep. A movie played on the big screen and a plethora of snacks were strewn out on the coffee table but left untouched. You joked about how, ever since San entered your life, your sugar cravings had dramatically decreased because he was bringing too much sweetness into it.

“Honey?” San broke the comfortable silence and spoke over the characters on the TV. You hummed in reply and he continued. “I want to ask you something.”

As you shifted to get a better look at him, he pulled you in a tight embrace and you immediately stopped moving. “Don't look at me, just… listen? Please?”

“Okay, Sannie, what is it?”

“How do you feel about… moving in… with me? Or me with you!” You could hear the blush attacking his cheeks and embarrassment clinging onto his voice as it grew higher in the end and the words came out in a rush.

Joy tugged at your lips and you couldn’t stop the light hearted chuckle from slipping out in the room. You broke out of his gentle hold and grabbed his hand in yours, and planted a chaste kiss on it.

“I think I’d love that.”

Without warning, he squeezed your cheeks between his palms and captured your lips in a tender kiss, leaving your insides warm and mushy. Despite having muscles the size of a watermelon and broad shoulders that could carry the entirety of Noah’s ark, San was a real softie. He had the habit of holding you as if you were the most valuable possession on the earth, a feather which could crumble at contact or a cube of sugar that would melt beneath the rain. The shared kisses were brief but left a tingle on your lips that you couldn't get enough of and nearly whined in retaliation as San withdrew to catch his breath. 

“I adore you, like really, really much,” he confessed and kissed you again, and again, and again. The peppered kisses were planted all over your face — nose, cheeks, mouth, chin, eyes, forehead. The endearing act of love pulled a string of giggles straight out of your tummy, cursing you with an ache that your grandmother would call remedy for the soul.

One moment he was on you and the next, he turned you over to lay against the couch while he  scrambled to his bedroom on the other side of the apartment. You pushed yourself up on your forearms with only your upper body lifted as you curiously watched San runoff as if his rear caught on fire.

“Sannie?” 

“Just a second, honey!” 

Rough shuffling reached the living room, but it was the loud crash of objects clattering on the ground that you almost headed to see the commotion yourself. San’s reassuring voice telling you everything was okay didn’t help you relax, but you trusted his judgement and remained seated. The eager wait was short lived as San returned with something tightly clutched in his right hand and stopped by the end of the couch, back uncomfortably straight and face pinched into a serious expression. Hadn’t you known him for a little shorter than a month, you’d assume he was about to get down on one knee and ask you to live the rest of your life by his side. 

San cleared his throat and extended his arm low enough for you to see his well manicured fingernails. You shuffled over closer to the end of the sofa and sat up on your knees. His fingers unfolded and exposed the trinket laying in the center of his palm. An apartment key. The spare key to his apartment to be precise.

“I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I’ve never been sure of anything more than this and I really want to take this next step with you.”

“Are you asking me to marry you or move in with you?”

Red dusted his cheeks and he had to look away. Your own lips curved up as his eyes creased into crescent moons, a telltale of his dimpled smile making an appearance. San covered his mouth as if it would make his smile disappear. Testing the waters, he asked, “Would you say yes?”

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” 

San was sure he could pass out right then and there. His cheeks hurt from smiling too much, but it was the only pain he would ever welcome with open arms. You climbed onto the couch and jumped into San's arms and he effortlessly caught you, his hands finding their designated place on your hips and thighs while your arms slid around his neck like a koala. Your fronts were pressed against each other, but you continued pulling him toward you, as if the chance of becoming one entity was higher than inventing flying cars. San dipped you down princess-style and stole a long kiss, one that you were more than eager to reciprocate. Your fingers tangled in his black hair, nails soothingly scratching his scalp, and your heart swelled with so much love and happiness it felt like it could explode and fill the living room with colorful confetti.

It was a shame the human needed air every few minutes because all you wanted to do in that moment was feel him everywhere. Breaking apart, you rested your forehead against his, hot breaths fanning across each other’s lower faces, chests rising with fervor as your bodies desperately tried to reclaim the lost oxygen."

“I’d say yes a hundred times over,” you breathed out, “but let’s save that for after we meet the in-laws.”

“My parents have already scheduled a day for when we can go to Namhae,” he eagerly replied to which you hastily leaned back, nearly sending you both tumbling over.

“San! I swear you’re unbelievable.”

“Unbelievably in love with you.”

Lips swollen, eyes welling with joy and hearts beating erratically, the world paused as you looked at each other. The diploma neatly placed on your desk and the knowledge you had collected over the years seemed insignificant when the love you harbored for San could regrow burned forests, mend broken bridges and heal even the most shattered of hearts.

Living with San was nothing out of the ordinary, except that you saw each other more now that you lived under the same roof. Considering your shared apartment with Haneul was bigger than San’s, it only made sense for the Choi siblings to switch places. That way you kept your room and San took Haneul’s. You quickly realized you could��ve just moved into San’s apartment instead as neither ever went to sleep alone. More often than not, San would crawl into your bed, claiming it was cozier than his, but you knew even the ground would be a great sleeping place as long as you were in his arms. That was precisely what you wanted — to be in San’s arms. Instead you were working another night shift, the most hectic one since the fire incident a couple of weeks ago. 

A young man, no older than twenty, had been in a motorcycle crash, leaving him with severe pain and swelling in his right leg, which was pushed into an unnatural position. The skin was entirely torn off, exposing blood and muscle tissue. You had a suspicion about how severe the situation was, but it still called for an X-ray examination. As expected, the results confirmed multiple fractures of the femur and tibia, requiring surgery the next day at the latest. Changmin, as his driver’s license indicated, was in immense pain and even struggled with breathing difficulties into the night. This left you and your co-workers with no choice but to monitor him closely throughout the remainder of your shift. To say it was tiring would be an understatement. Your feet were so sore it felt like walking on a rug of medical needles and your back ached, begging you to lie in bed and not get up until the birds returned from Southeast Asia.

The only thing pushing you through the long day was the fact that you knew San was waiting on you at home. It didn’t matter if he was awake or not. Your tense muscles relaxed by the thought of burying your face in his chest and forget the world until your batteries were restored again. It became a routine for the both of you. When one had a more physically draining day at work, the other was ready to pamper them and make them feel completely taken care of. 

After a few failed attempts to insert the key into the door, you finally managed to unlock it. A stream of blue light illuminated the otherwise dark apartment and was accompanied by muffled voices coming from the living room. You haphazardly threw your shoes off, not bothering to neatly place them next to one of San’s hundred pairs of sneakers, and instinctively followed the animated sounds that belonged in a cartoon. 

The scene you were met with nearly brought you to tears. San was seated in the middle of the sofa, a fuzzy blanket thrown over his head and shoulders, with two mugs of hot cocoa steaming on the table in front of him. The bag slung over your shoulder slipped off and fell to the floor with a gentle thud. Your jacket — a gift from San’s closet — was at least two sizes too big, making you look like a bear ready to hibernate. The colorful scarf you had been wearing since your teenage years reached up to your nose. San whipped his head in your direction and his stoic expression softened into one of understanding at the sight of fresh tears coating your waterline. His lips curled into a small, reassuring smile that spoke more of compassion than words ever could. 

He quickly lifted one side of the blanket and beckoned you over with a gentle command. “C’mere honey.”

That was the last straw for your tears to start rolling. You wasted no time shedding your outer layers of clothing and curling into San’s side. A sob that you had been holding in throughout the entire car ride home vibrated against his chest. San ran his hand up and down your back while whispered praises tickled your ear. He planted a kiss on your crown and pulled you over him as he fell back against the couch. You adjusted yourself more comfortably, both legs falling on either side of his hips so as not to fall, and he swiftly maneuvered the blanket to shield you from the chilly atmosphere. The minutes ticked by and you had no perception of how long you stayed in that position, but your sobs eventually subdued to soft sniffling. 

“How did you know?”  You whispered, a tremble hanging onto your vocal chords, and sat up. 

San’s hands travelled to rest on your waist, thumbs rubbing circular motions into your flesh. “I just… felt you.”

“Felt me?”

He hummed, “I still do. Happiness, sadness, fear, anger — everything, right here.” His hand hovered over your heart and you understood. You really did. 

There was no scientific explanation for the emotional connection that kept you in tune with each other’s feelings. The unexpected pressure weighing down on your lungs at even the slightest discomfort or worry he experienced, like when he stumbled upon a video of a duckling being separated from its mother. It was uncanny how your heart soared hours before he came home with good news about a promotion, or the unexplainable sense of pride you had been carrying all day — only to discover it was coming from San, who had helped a kitten down from a tree. You’d never forget the day the bitter taste of dandelion greens spread across your tongue, only to find San lying in bed, caving under the weight of his blue emotions. The best part of the connection, though, would be the buckets of love pouring into your bucket as he hugged, kissed and worshipped you. However, there was one emotion you hadn’t received any signs of.

Your fingers found purchase on the hem of his shirt that rode up his stomach and revealed a sliver of the toned skin beneath. “I don’t feel… your anger.”

San flashed you a blinding smile and spurts of daffodils curved around your heart. “That’s because nothing makes me angry, love.”

“Really? Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

A beat passed and you sighed, “I’m always angry.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re angry, just… frustrated.”

“It’s practically the same thing,” you argued and continued fiddling with his shirt. He captured your hands in his and halted your anxious picking.

“It isn’t, not by definition. We feel frustrated when we are unable to progress, while anger is the response to something we perceive as wrong or harmful… You’re not angry, my love, you’re frustrated and probably overworked too.”

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you mulled over his words. It made sense, and you didn’t need to voice the comfort it brought you; he felt it. The unruly waves quieted to a steady push-and-pull, letting you breathe as the knot of emotions slowly untangled to nothing.

“You know, I’m supposed to be the older one out of the two of us.”

A hearty laugh filled the previously gloomy room, immediately illuminating the four cold walls, and San caught your waist again as he shifted, the echoes of his laughter filling the space.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. It'd be my honor to make you feel like a teenage girl again.”

That he did. It was almost embarrassing how his sweet gestures had you leaping face first into your pillows and rapidly firing your feet against the comforter. One would believe you were closer to being fifteen than thirty, and while you had a mild crisis, you were still grateful San brought that youthfulness out of you again. 

“Was it a rough day?”

The sentimental moment burst like a fragile soap bubble at the slightest of touches. You took a breath of air and San slid his hand further up your wrists, placing his thumbs in the center of your palms while the remainder of his fingers wrapped around the back of your hand. It was grounding and kept you from re-visiting the gut wrenching thoughts that plagued your mind while tending to the young patient.

“A young guy was rushed to the ER… He got into a motorcycle accident and flew maybe a good ten meters from the crash place, and totally fucked up his leg. It was by sheer luck he didn’t suffer head injuries, let alone injuries to the rest of his body.” 

You still saw the image of his bloodied body and torn clothes, a sight that would leave you with nightmares for days.

“He was in really critical condition, San. We couldn’t leave him alone for even one second. I’m talking about twenty four-hour care… He’s going into surgery tomorrow. He’ll survive, but it’s just... He reminded me of you. How you’re literally in danger every time you go to work and– and how easily I could lose– lose– lose–”

The words caught in your throat as your voice grew higher in pitch. San gave your hands another squeeze and pulled you back down onto him. You wasted no time burying your face in his neck and his arms automatically wrapped around you — one finding purchase at the back of your head while the other securely encircled your back.

“I don’t want to lose you, San.”

“You won’t lose me, love.”

“You don’t know that!”

“What I know is that I always do my best to come back to you in one piece. To my home, no?” The hand that had been placed against your head wrapped around the back of your neck and gently massaged it.

Like a flower opening up to catch the first few sun rays of the day, you put your heart out and allowed San a glimpse of what was inside. 

“It just scared me,” you said between shuddering breaths. “Anything could happen, San, and I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you–”

“Honey.” His voice wasn’t stern, but it held a certain finality to it. As gentle as a newborn kitten, he carefully eased you back, pulling you away from where your face had been pressed against his neck. With a soft motion, he tilted your head slightly, getting a better look at your face.“Thinking of the what ifs isn’t good for anyone.”

You wanted to reply with an ‘I know’, but you knew better than to lie to him. 

He wiped a stray tear off your cheek and you nuzzled against his palm. “Look, I love that you think you need me, but it’s not true. We managed more than fine on our own and just because we’ve found each other doesn’t mean we can’t function alone anymore… I love that you feel comfortable enough to lean on me, darling, but at the end of the day, you’re strong because of who you are and not because I’m here.

“And if, but just if, anything were to happen to me, I need you to know that you aren’t alone. You’d still have Haneul there. My parents. Your parents. Nurse Kim and Nurse Hwang too. That’s eight more people than me.”

Your hand enveloped his cradling your cheek. “I don’t want to think of a life without you in it.”

“Good because you’re stuck with me forever and ever and ever and ever!”

A wet giggle sounded through the living room and San’s rough chuckle blended perfectly with your sweet hiccups. Overwhelmed by the affection filling your humble abode, successfully warming every corner of the apartment, you intertwined your fingers behind San’s neck and determinedly pulled him into a heart-searing kiss. Your mouths molded together in a perfect fit, much like the famous art piece by Auguste Rodin. The sculpture representing a pair of lovers destined to remain together forever, until parted by death.

San breathed life into you with simple gestures that could restore chivalry. His eyes finding yours in a crowded room, silently checking up on you as you were both tugged in opposite directions by your mutual friends. Walking the empty streets after a successful date night, the gentle brush of his fingers skimming over yours before slipping between the gaps and pulling your hand into the pocket of his coat with the excuse of keeping you warm. Slothing his front to your back in the solitude of your home as you’d be too busy for a long cuddle session on the couch. Not to mention the kisses spread throughout the day—morning, noon, and night. He’d see you off with a peck and welcome you with the same sentiment, wishing you a good night or day before taking off.

The memories you collected during your still-new relationship pushed you forward, giving you hope and belief that you were going to get through this. San’s promise of never leaving — intentionally or unintentionally — comforted you and the dreadful thoughts hadn't returned, and hopefully, they wouldn’t ever. But if they ever did reoccur, you knew San would be there to chase them away.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY 2025. All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating my work is not allowed.

[late-to-the-party-81]

Aawww, thank you! 🤩

Pole to Pole

AN: I’ve been planning this fic for absolutely ages and @the-slumberparty week three "Something New" writer challenge was just the prompt I needed. For my trope I have used ‘Love at first sight’ and  ‘major miscommunication’. Also, as this is my first time writing a firefighter AU and my first time writing Curtis, it also serves as my entry to my own Challenge Yourself Challenge. This story is set in the same universe as @sidepartskinnyjeans Sparks and Barks and reader was inspired by this tiktok channel (but my fic reader is race neutral)

Beta’d by the ever patient @yarnforbrains.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and moodboard/banners by me. 

Master list

Relationship: Firefighter Curtis Everett x Curvy! Female Reader

WC: 5.2k

CW: Angst! Miscommunication! Assumptions about what a fat person can do (fatphobia)!, mention of injured child (who recovers), Fluffy, hopeful, romcom style ending.

“Okay, guys! That’s it! Out!”

At the holler from Steve, Curtis closed the valves on the hydrant and started to uncouple the hoses that had been manned by Bucky, Nat, Jake and Nick. He also saw Sam out of the corner of his eye, talking to the EMT about the conditions in which they’d found the home-owner before the ambulance had turned up.

This job had been a run of the mill house fire. A timber framed building, an elderly home-owner, and a stove left unattended. Luckily the woman had managed to phone 911 herself and exit the property without much incident. It had been a straightforward call out, which Curtis was happy about; any job where everyone (including the animals) walked away without incident was a good one in his books.

He let out a grunt as he hefted the now rolled hose in his arms and placed it back in its designated home in the truck. Bucky appeared next to him, placing the other hose in beside the first.

“I think Cap is already on the phone to James about getting all the cats checked over. That’s if Mrs Jones can get them all rounded up.” He cast his eyes over to where the home-owner was trying to give the EMTs the slip so she could check on the six or more felines that were sitting, nonplussed, on the grass watching the proceedings.

Curtis let out a snort of amusement.

“What’s it like, having the boss-man dating your brother?”

“Weird as fuck, man. Cos like, if he knows about the freckle on Jimmy’s ass, then by extension he knows about the one on mine…”

“TMI, Buck. T -M - I.”

Ignoring the finger flipped at him by his team mate, Curtis swung up into the driver’s seat of the truck. He was glad it was almost the end of the day shift. He ached and was tired. He planned to hit the gym for a quick workout and then it would be home to his quiet apartment. Just the way he liked it.

Picking up his rough towel, Curtis swiped at the sweat on his brow before running it across his close cropped hair and then down his short beard. A hard workout was just what the doctor ordered, and so far, this new gym that had opened two blocks away from his apartment, was ticking all the boxes. All the latest equipment, ideally suited to people who wanted to keep themselves fit in the most efficient and economical way. That wasn’t to say that there weren’t some of what Curtis thought of as ‘frivolous’ or ‘lightweight’ options here as well. He supposed that to be viable the management had to cater to all types, but he wasn’t really sure what jazzercise or fitness pole were supposed to achieve.

When he’d seen the sign-up sheet for the latter it had caused him to let out an uncharacteristic chuckle. Fitness pole. A way to let bored housewives live out their stripper fantasies in a safe environment was all that was for, surely?

As he walked out of the main room and towards the changing rooms he passed one of the side studios. Peering in he realised that this is where the pole-fitness would be taking place. Several slim, chrome-shiny poles, with little ‘stages’ at their base were fitted between floor and ceiling. 

Despite his initial disdain, Curtis couldn’t contain his curiosity and dropped his water bottle and towel by the door before advancing into the room. The mirrors on the three walls were a bit off-putting in his opinion. He walked up to the pole at the front, the instructor’s one, he assumed, and grasped it with his hand. It was a good third slimmer than the station pole, and he wondered how it could bear any weight at all.

“Thinking of joining the class?” A lilting musical voice sounded from behind him, and made him jump - not an easy feat considering both his size and his occupation. Whipping round, Curtis saw who he thought must be one of the class students. She certainly didn’t look like any of the pole dancers he’d seen in his misspent youth. 

That wasn’t to say she wasn’t attractive. In fact, in his opinion, she was stunning. But she was in no way petite or svelte. The outfit she had on also left none of her curves to the imagination, firstly because it was tight, but secondly because there wasn’t a lot of it. Black spandex hugged her hips, stomach and breasts, leaving the entirety of her legs and arms free.

“I… umm…” Why had his mouth stopped working?

“You certainly look strong enough. I bet you’d find it a breeze.”

“Umm..gotta go…” 

Being the tall and often intimidating man that he was, Curtis had never considered that he’d be the type to scuttle out of somewhere, but once back home, in the thunderous silence of his apartment, he had to admit to himself that that’s what he’d done. Run away, blushing and tongue-tied. He couldn’t for the life of him work out why though. He was no green lad, wet behind the ears, and if he were being totally honest, he’d had more than his fair share of dalliances and romps. He’d even had a few relationships as well, but none that ever seemed to last, and when they had ended he hadn’t found himself to cut up about them being over.

He saw pretty women all the time, but none of them had ever turned him mute. Maybe it was because he was so tired? That must have been it. He continued to brood on and off as he ate his dinner for one, drank a beer and watched wild-fire documentaries on the tv.

“You alright, Curtis?”

“Huh?” Curtis lifted his head up at the sound of Val’s voice. 

The assistant chief walked over to him with her usual cocky swagger, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

“It’s just if you try to polish that panel any more I think the red will come off.” She gesticulated with her slim finger towards where Curtis had a cleaning rag in a death grip, pressed against the side of his truck. He followed her gaze to find that the red metal now gleamed under his distracted ministrations. Looking back up he saw the massive grin on her face as she leaned nonchalantly against the firetruck.

“So, are you alright? It’s just normally you’re out-grumping Nick and out-scowling Bucky, but today you’re just staring into space like you got something on your mind.”

“Nah, ‘s’nothin’. Just tired. Stuck in a rut, maybe?” He shrugged, but was taken aback slightly when Val stood straight and placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. She was all business now, her assistant chief game-face in place.

“Well, as long as that’s all it is. I need my best driver at the top of his game.” 

Curtis gave her a brief nod before she walked back to her office. What was wrong with him? He’d been in a funk for several days, since his visit to the gym and his interaction with Curved and Dangerous. He hadn’t even seen the instructor and the rest of the class arrive given how fast he’d excused himself. In his mind’s eye, he’d been imagining peeling the black spandex off of her, exposing the luscious skin underneath, and feasting on her. He’d only heard her voice briefly but he couldn’t get it out of his head. He imagined how she’d sound as she came. Came under his touch.

Fuck!

He hadn’t been this infatuated in someone since junior high and his hormones had been a steamrolling mess. He couldn’t even remember that girl’s name now. Lisa? Lizzy?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the alarm siren going off. Pulling up his suspender straps he jumped up into the cab of the truck as the others came sliding down the pole. The juxtaposition between what he’d just been thinking about and watching his fully clad team mates gripping the pole between their thighs was suddenly too much, and he let out a guffaw. 

As Nat slid into the seat next to him she gave him a confused look.

“What you laughing at, Ice Man?”

He smiled and shook his head.

“Nothin’, Nat. Nothin’. Let’s get this show on the road.” Turning his head over his right shoulder, he shouted into the back. “Buckle up, losers. I’m hitting the gas.”

Why was he back here? Back at this time? He could easily have come for a workout any other day or at any other time today. But no, he had to be here the same time the pole-fitness was going on. At a time that would mean that he’d finish his normal routine of reps and exercises at the right moment to walk past the studio mid-class.

Curtis supposed he could do a few extra reps and cooldown stretches. Delay his exit.

He should. Because otherwise he’d feel like a creep. Which is why, twenty minutes later, he hadn’t done any of that and found himself walking towards the studio on his way to the changing room,hyper aware of how hard his heart was beating in his chest. He tried to snap himself out of it. Convince himself that his stupid crush would disappear as soon as he saw her inelegantly trying to hook her leg around the pole. Not that he wished her harm, but if she fell flat then it would just prove to his dick brain that she was just a normal, regular human and not some ethereal creature brought to life.

Unfortunately for the burly fireman, the universe decided to fuck with him.

He came to a halt outside the glass wall and peered in at the group of mostly women (he was sure he saw a couple of skinny, muscular guys at the end of a row). His eyes travelled from the back of the class to the front trying to spot her. All the attendees were standing behind their poles, looking towards the front where the instructor…

He froze. 

His heart stopped in his chest. 

Curtis.exe malfunctioned. 

Because there she was. At the front, demonstrating to the class. Upside down, shapely thighs and calves wrapped around the pole, spinning slowly. He gawped. Mouth open, eyes wide and… shit!

He moved suddenly, as fast as he could manage, toward the changing room and the blessedly cold shower he urgently needed.

He was getting on his own nerves now. He was fine alone. Always had been and always would be. And seriously, he’d barely spoken to the woman and seen her only twice, but thoughts of her filled nearly every waking moment. He’d never believed in love at first sight, and he wasn’t going to start now.

 “Curtis!” He snapped out of it with the bark from Steve and turned toward his Captain.

“Take over for Sam! Bucky’s coming out with someone, and EMTs are still 5 minutes out.” With a curt nod, he jogged over from the hydrant to where Sam was tackling the blaze on the south-east corner of the building, taking hold of the high pressure hose and digging his heels in to absorb the recoil, allowing the team medic to rush over towards their team-mate who had just cleared the doorway, a small body over his shoulder. 

When Sam reached him, Bucky carefully placed the inert child on the grass and started to assist Sam with the CPR.  Curtis kept one eye on them whilst trying to keep his portion of the blaze under control. He hated call-outs where there were kids involved. 

Bucky and Sam were still working on their charge when the ambulance turned up, all sirens and lights. The EMTs took over,and everyone breathed a sigh of relief when there was a small cheer and a load of coughing. Curtis let go of some of the anxiety he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and turned his attention fully back to the fire. 

Pounding stuff was good.

Jab. Jab. Uppercut.

He’d foregone his usual workout routine today, needing stress relief after the near miss at the fire earlier on. The crew all had their own ways of dealing with days like this, and punching sandbags was his.

“I’m glad that’s a sandbag you’re punching and not a person.”  As soon as the voice reached his ears, Curtis’ body went on high alert. 

Her.

He heard the click-click of the heels of her shoes across the floor as she came closer, and he tried to maintain his composure and his rhythm. She appeared in his field of vision from the side, dropped her bag to the floor and went and stood behind the sandbag, steadying it with her hands.

“I thought it only fair that I come watch you after you were watching me the other day. You seem awfully fascinated with the poles.”

Curtis raised his head to look at her fully and tried to steel his face into a neutral expression, all the while his brain was short-circuiting due to her close presence. God, her eyes. He could get lost in those eyes and never worry about returning home.

“I… umm… use them everyday. Well, one. Umm…” For fuck’s sake. He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the twinkle in her eyes as she watched him flounder. Pulling off his gloves, he swiped his sweaty hand down his gym shorts and thrust it out in front of him.

“Curtis Everitt, New York Fire Department, Brooklyn Station House. At your service.”

She took hold of his proffered hand in her own smaller one and smiled as she shook it, chuckled and gave her own name.

“That explains an awful lot. So it was professional curiosity that led you into my studio the first time? And the second time? Before you ran away like someone had set your ass on fire? ‘Cause it seemed to me that you liked something you saw.” She waggled her eyebrows in amusement, and God - Curtis didn’t know whether he should just run away in embarrassment or kiss the knowing smirk off her face. In the end he chose a third option.

“Yeah, um, sorry about that. For some reason I didn’t expect you to be the instructor.” He felt the flush creeping up the back of his neck and rubbed at it, as though trying to erase the pink hue suffusing his skin.

Her expression soured, and Curtis’ heart sank. “Mmm-hmm. I wonder why? I get that a lot. No-one expects this,” she grabbed a handful of her flesh through her leotard and jiggled it, “to swing around a pole with grace and talent. Well, now I know the reason for your stares, I’ll say my good-byes and not bother you any longer.”

She turned, dejected and Curtis was filled with a sense of panic. His hand flew out and snagged her wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

“Wait, please. That didn’t come out right. Well… okay, it was right when I said I didn’t expect you to be the instructor, and yes it was because of your size, and I’m ashamed that I thought that. But I… well…I think you’re stunning. And when I saw you, you know, doing your thing, my mind was blown and…”

She was looking at him, still unimpressed, but not making any further move to leave, which gave him a flicker of hope to salvage the situation.

“Look, I’m not expressing myself properly. I was surprised, yes, but like I said, you’re gorgeous and I didn’t expect to be so… so enamoured…”

“Why? ‘Cause I’m fat and you don’t normally like fat women. Or is there something about me that allows you to ‘overlook’ the extra pounds?”  This time she did pull her hand free.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Goodbye, Curtis. See you around.”

She turned and walked out without a backwards glance, the sound of her heels in time with the thudding of Curtis’ heart.

If the others at the station house thought that Curtis had been acting strangely before, it was nothing to how he was acting now. And the worst part was, he knew it, but he couldn’t get out of the funk. He clattered around, grumpier than usual and snapping at the others. It therefore didn’t come as much of a surprise to him when he was called into Steve’s office.

“Sit. Talk.” Steve gesticulated with his pen, and his tone prevented any disagreement. With a sigh, Curtis threw himself into the chair opposite the large wooden desk. He stared at the grooves on its well weathered surface, his thoughts swirling as he tried to work out what to say to his commanding officer. Unfortunately for him, Steve wasn’t in a patient mood. 

“You do realise that in order to talk you have to open your mouth and let words come out? Even without Val coming and telling me something was eating you, it was obvious. You’ve gone from more quiet and sullen than usual to crankier than usual. So, come on, man, spit it out for Christ’s sake.”

Curtis took a deep breath. “It’s personal, sir. But I’m sorry my mood has been affecting the team. I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

It was Steve’s turn to sigh. He closed the document folder in front of him and leant back in his chair.

“Don’t shut me out, Curtis. I might be your boss, but I’d like to think we were friends too. I’ve never seen you like this, in all the years I’ve known you, so I know it’s something big. Spill.”

Curtis could feel the blush rising up his neck. Fuck, he was warm and uncomfortable. All this ‘feelings’ bullshit was new to him. He was hard and tough. Not to say Steve wasn’t, but the Captain had always had a softness to him too. A pureness. And since he’d started dating James, it had only got more pronounced. And Curtis wasn’t like that. 

Didn’t think he could ever be like that. It just wasn’t him. 

For a moment he’d thought he could have it; a relationship that had meaning. If it had been with her. But he’d royally fucked up.

“I made my girl feel bad. That’s what’s up.” His admission came out as a soft growl.

Steve’s eyes widened.

“You, gotta girl? Like a girlfriend, girl? Mr. “Thank you, next” has a girlfriend?”

“Hey! Don’t say it like that. Although, she wasn’t my girl. Not really. But I think I wanted her - no, want her to be. But it freaked me out, and I couldn’t say what I meant and what I did say insulted her. And I don’t know how to make it right, or whether she will even look at me again.”

Steve swiped his hand over his eyes in disbelief. 

“Well, I can’t help you there, bud. You’ll have to work out what you can do to make it up to her by yourself. And she might not accept it, and then you’ll have to accept that. It’s hard, man, this love thing, but I can tell you, it’s worth it. Have hope. What would get her attention long enough that you can say your piece? Think on it. But not when you’re working. Now scram. I got paperwork to finish and you’ve got a truck to maintain.”

Curtis pushed back his chair, the legs scrapping loudly on the concrete floor before nodding brusquely at his Captain and making his way to the door. His hand had just gripped the doorknob when Steve’s voice sounded again, making him stop.

“And Curtis… Good luck. I’m rooting for you. You deserve a bit of happiness.” 

The corners of his mouth twitched, an unusual occurrence.  “Thanks, Steve.”

Confidence renewed, Curtis just had to come up with a plan. As he used the leg press machine, and tried not to throw sideways glances towards the door of the gym room, wishing he could see through it to the studio beyond, he ran through different options in his head. Unfortunately, as soon as he had an idea, he discounted it. Too cheesy, not classy enough, too frivolous. There was something wrong with all of them.

He glanced up toward the clock on the wall. He’d come a little later tonight, and should be finished after the pole fitness class finished. The digital display confirmed that the studio should be emptying about now, leaving it clear in about 5 minutes. He pushed down the metal plate under his feet twice more, before letting it come back into place, the weights letting out a clang as he did so.

Curtis stood, wiped down the machine and then himself before striding towards the double doors. His pace slowed when he reached the studio as his nerves tried to get the better of him. He peered around the door and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was empty. Yes, he wanted to see her again, but he needed to know what he was going to do first. For now, he just wanted to feel some kind of connection. 

As he walked up to the pole at the front of the studio, he studied it as if it might reveal its secrets. He reached his hand out and slid it up the smooth surface. Was he imagining that the metal still held some of the warmth from her skin? He couldn’t believe that he’d been so stupid - made that ridiculous assumption of her abilities, based on stereotypes and social conditioning. He knew better than that. He’d never judged a woman’s intelligence or professional abilities due her size, so why had he judged her physicality? It wasn’t as though he was some small, delicate flower, and he knew how powerful and flexible he was…

It was as though a lightbulb had come on over his head, like in the cartoons he’d watched as a child. That was it! He knew what he needed to do. Hopefully, she’d be so dumbstruck by his display, that he’d have the chance to get his words out. But he’d have a lot of planning and practise to do.

Turning on his heel, Curtis practically jogged out of the gym, a grin splitting his usually stoic facade. This was going to work. He was sure of it.

Curtis spent the whole walk home on his phone, researching. As soon as he got inside his apartment he went straight to his tool box, intent on finding his tape measure to make sure his plan was feasible. He may or may not have let out a small ‘whoop’ of excitement upon discovering it was. Straight back to his phone, he ordered the item he needed, having decided upon the best retailer during his research. He’d even paid extra for priority shipping, but the 2-3 day wait was still going to feel like too long. However, there was other stuff he could do in the meantime like watching tutorial videos and shuffling his furniture around.

“Hey, Curtis, my man! How’re ya doin’? You gotta smile there!” 

Curtis couldn’t hold back the little chuckle that escaped him as he breezed in past Jake and Mickey where they were leaning on the reception desk, joking with the sweet girl who kept them all on track.. Normally the goofy pair got on his nerves, but he was in a good mood, full of confidence. His plan was coming together; his delivery had come and been installed, and he was making progress with the help of various videos. 

“It’s a good day, Jake!” He smiled at the bleach blonde computing nerd and then gave a sideways nod to his somewhat frivolous bestie. “Mickey. Stay outta trouble guys. See you in the break room later on.” He then turned his attention to the station house sweetheart. “And don’t let these two give you any sass. Tell ‘em to fuck off if they get too annoying.” Her eyes went wide at the thought of talking back to the two flirtatious men and telling them to go about their day. Curtis chuckled again, gave her a wink and made his way through to the garage.

A week later and his confidence was a bit more shaky. Alright, a lot more. Because now it was crunch time. He once again felt like a creep, hanging outside the studio, but this time he’d deliberately hung back so he couldn’t see through the windows, although close enough that he could see when all the class were leaving. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, psyching himself up. When he heard the creak of the door hinges and the wall of sound that escaped as the class walked out, he opened his eyes. It was now or never. 

Stepping forwards he held the door for them, marvelling properly at the different range of folk who’d been taking part. Different ages, races, sizes and genders. It made him feel stupid all over again.

As the last one walked out, a leggy brunette who gave him a coy smile, he walked into the studio and closed the door behind him.

“Ummm. Hi.”  His voice echoed slightly in the near empty room. He saw her stiffen for a moment, before she turned, a neutral expression on her face.

“How can I help you, Curtis?”

“Look, I was hoping that I could apologise to you again. And try to explain myself better.”

She crossed her arms in front of her, cocked her hip and raised an eyebrow.

“You think you can do that without digging yourself a bigger hole? And this better be good. I don’t have the time, or the energy, to deal with fuck-bois who think they are doing me a favour by deigning to be interested in me, despite my size.”

The emphasis she put on the word made him wince, but she hadn’t told him fuck off, so he took a step closer, although still mindful of her personal space.

“Firstly, I want to say I’m sorry again about being surprised you were the instructor. It was stupid and narrow-minded of me. I thought I was better than that, and I should be better than that. And that’s a me problem. Something I have to work on. But I really hope that you’re able to accept my apology.”

She didn’t relax her pose, but her lips twitched minutely.

“You said that was ‘firstly’. What’s ‘secondly’?”

“The second thing is about how I expressed my attraction to you. When I said I didn’t expect to be so enamoured that had nothing to do with how you look and everything to do with me and my history, or lack thereof, of relationships. I didn’t expect to feel the way that I feel, because I’ve never felt that way. I’ve never had a relationship last longer than a few months, and it was always me ending them because I was bored, and obviously not feeling what I thought I should be feeling.” He stopped, running back over what he’d just said in his head. “There’s a lot of feelings in this…”

She cracked a smile at that, and Curtis felt lifted.

“What I’m trying to say is that there is something special about you, about who you are, that for some reason makes me sit up, and notice, and want things I’ve never wanted before. And it has nothing to do with your size. You could be a size 2 or a size 22, or anything, and I’d still think you the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’d still want to see your face every day and want to make you smile. The thought that I’d hurt you with what I said last time, with my inability to articulate my thoughts… well it messed me up, and all I’ve been trying to do is find a way to say sorry and show you that, despite how few interactions we’ve had, I think you’re special.”

Was that a softening of her posture he saw? He had to hope so.

“You got something to show me, Hot Stuff? What is it? Better not be your dong though.”

“What? No!” 

That’s when she laughed, and as she did, her face lit up. Curtis’ heart surged, despite the embarrassment he was feeling.

“Oh! Your face, Curtis! I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Okay, okay. What is it you wanna show me?”

He smiled back and walked towards her, only to cause confusion to cross her face when he actually passed her. He stopped by her pole and looked it up and down. He toed off his sneakers and whipped his gym shirt off over his head.

“Erm…what are you doing?” 

Curtis looked back over his shoulder “At best? Impressing you a bit. At worst? Making you laugh. Either way, I hope it works out well for me.”

Curtis took his phone out of his shorts pocket, tapped the screen to start up some music, grabbed her bottle of dusting powder and tapped some onto his hands before he took hold of the pole in his right hand. Lifting his right leg, he went into a back arch, then bent further into a backbend. He flashed her an upside down wink before standing, sashaying around the pole to face her, and doing a back slide down the pole. He slid back up, and still holding the pole he dropped his body weight and moved around it, building momentum until he grasped it with his left hand too, going into a carousel spin. He continued to spin and grind against the pole in time to the music and he watched as she brought her hands up to her face, but didn’t stop watching, and continued to smile and giggle.

He danced and glided, swinging up into a fireman spin, before coming back down to terra firma, on his knees in front of her and bending back on himself into a knee bridge, one hand on top of his head and his firm chest and abs on display. He was breathing hard, and smiled up at her hopefully. That had been far more exhilarating than he thought it would have been.

“Alright, Magic Mike. I had a hunch that you’d be good at this, but color me impressed.”

Curtis sat up on his knees.

“Impressed enough to maybe give me a second chance and let me take you out on a date?”

“Yes, you goober. Now get off the floor.” She extended her hand and Curtis took hold, allowing her to help him to his feet. “One condition though; you join my class. Your forward spin was a bit sloppy. Oh! And please tell me that you practised at work…”

Curtis grinned, the flush of exertion hiding the flush of embarrassment. “Might have just done a little bit when no one was around…” She threw back her head and laughed.

“I’d have paid good money to see that.”

“If I play my cards right with you, then maybe you will…”

“Maybe, indeed. And Curtis��� never doubt me again.”

“Never.”

Tag list: @jobean12-blog @tuiccim @flordeamatista @krissy25 @bodeckersdiamonddoll @goldylions @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky @doasyoudesireandlive @chemtrails-club @seitmai @marvelstarker-mha98 @talia-rumlow @peaches1958 @pono-pura-vida

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater || Series Masterlist

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.

Get ready for an AU! Several SPN characters will make their appearances: Sam and John Winchester, Castiel as "Cas Novak," Ellen and Jo Harvelle, Jack Kline, Benny Lafitte, Gordon Walker, Meg Masters, Chuck Shurley, Nick (yes, even him), and more!

Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) There will be a lot of heart, a lot of fun, drama, heartbreak, protective Dean, and even a murder mystery. Rating for eventual smut, perilous situations, and other chapter-specific tags.

🎵 Listen While You Read:

The Smoke Eater Playlist: YouTube || Spotify

Chapters:

Part 1 - Class and Style - Podcast Version!

Part 2 - Lieutenant Winchester

Part 3 - Got a Hold on Me

Part 4 - Rocky Road

Part 5 - Twitterpated

Part 6 - Just Casual

Part 7 - Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle

Part 8 - Likewise, Baby

Part 9 - Do Not Disturb

Part 10 - Toil and Trouble

Part 11 - Heart of the Home

Part 12 - All in the Family

Part 13 - Boiling Point

Part 14 - Message in a Bottle

Part 15 - The Good Part

Part 16 - Break Down the Gates

Part 17 - The Real Deal

Part 18 - V for Vendetta

Part 19 - Sacrifice

Epilogue - Easy as Pie

Series Complete!

Bonus One-Shots:

Something Real** Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

(Want to listen to the podcast version? Keep scrolling below!)

🎙️ Podcast Fics:

Listen to Part 1 in podfic form!

(A "podfic" is where you can listen to the story narrated.)

(Cover image and narration by @talltalesandbedtimestories)

Or listen to the official Idling in the Impala episode of Smoke Eater Part 1 on YouTube:

Or listen on Spotify.

Listen to the Idling in the Impala podfic episode of the sequel story, Something Real below:

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Join My Patreon 🌟

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

Comment below if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

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[lethargicluv]

Firefighter Simon Ghost Riley who realizes that the baked sweets and fresh bread aren’t coming from a bakery in town but actually from the girl who inherited her grandmother’s house across the street from the fire station. She stops by twice a week with everything she’s made in the last 2-3 days. Turns out she’s a recipe book editor and she likes to test every recipe in the books she’s asked to edit before she approves them for publishing. If she finds issues with the recipes she sends it back for revision. Imagine testing out a 300 page recipe book. Some weeks she stops by more than 2 times because she’s testing out meal recipes and ends up delivering large batches of lasagna and pasta and meatloaf to the station. Sometimes she messes up a bit and to make corrections to the recipes she has to remake it with some tweaking and so sometimes their meals are a little burnt, maybe a little bit too spicy, or not salty enough. Simon would appreciate it all the same, so do the rest of 141. Sometimes Soap helps her with her groceries when he sees her struggling with the large bags of flour and runs across the street to lend a hand. Gaz always offers to help her carry everything into the dining hall. Price always sees her off. It’s like everyone knows about her except Simon. He doesn’t until he nearly bowls her over running for the truck as the alarms go off and the team’s getting dispatched just as she’s dropping off a very large batch of mostly misshapen but very delicious sugar cookies. (The recipe was good just not good at holding their shape. Might be too much butter, she’ll have to send it back for revision.) They get back hours later to find these wobbly ghost shaped cookies and Soap literally wouldn’t stop laughing and tell him that the cookies looked like him. Even Price poked some fun at Simon. He catches her the next delivery struggling with several containers of roasted chicken and she nearly drops the remain chicken in her hands when she looks at the big man’s face and is met with a skull mask. They get to talking while the boys chow down on tonight’s chicken dinner and Simon thinks he’s been an idiot for holing up in his office all this time when such a lovely lady has been feeding them like this. She thinks Simon’s scary appearance doesn’t match his personality at all. He’s been so soft spoken despite his gruff voice. She makes him a bourbon cake the following week and laughs in amusement as Simon tries to fend off Soap trying to steal a bite.

Part 2

[duplicitywrites]

Tom had never thought of fire as golden before, but there was plenty of it in Fiendfyre, flowing like veins through each curl of flame.

Harry was lit by that same splendour, the uncontrolled mess of his hair cradled by laurels of Tom's magic. "Tom, you need to stop this before you lose control!"

A serpent to Tom's immediate left hissed in pointed disagreement, bright sparks rolling off of its forked tongue.

"You can't control this, believe me! You're going to get yourself killed!"

If only that were true. This fire could not be compared to any other because this fire was Tom. It was an extension of his will, purely Tom Riddle through and through.

"Please," Harry said. He was begging, now. "Don't do this."

A serpent lashed out at him, but Harry sidestepped it with ease. His expression remained agonized, fearful. Tom felt heady from the sight of it. At last, he had control. At last, Harry would be forced to listen, to obey. To heel.

"I can do anything," Tom said. Beads of sweat were rolling down the sides of his face, soaking into the stiff collar of his shirt. "I can defeat you."

"Please." Harry's eyes dimmed, his wand arm now hanging limp at this side. "Please, Tom, don't."

The fire alarm blared frantically overhead, but Tom could scarcely hear it over the roaring fire.

Harry took a step forward.

"Stay back," Tom hissed. The surrounding snakes hissed with him, amplifying his voice, elevating it to something inhuman, something like Parseltongue.

Harry grit his teeth. His wand arm shook as he banished the next flaming creature to swipe at him. He took another step.

"Stop," Tom demanded, uneasy. His fingers tightened around the handle of his wand. A flaming cheetah emerged, prowling forward in fast, jerky motions that were faster than the naked eye could see.

Tom could see, though. He could see himself reflected in the lens of Harry's glasses. His image burned, his hair crowned in embers, his eyes crimson red. Like he was the devil.

🔗 some like it hot 🔥 finally working on chapter six! 👀

[aha-my-villainous-thoughts]

I was really happy to be able to step in and do a second piece for the All Fired Up OFMD charity calendar with @ghostalservice! A sexily candid Frenchie with the firehouse mascot Elmo! There are so many details packed into this piece, I'm really proud of this mini-marathon!

[brokenphoenix99]

Waxer*Boil Month - Firefighter AU

For @waxerboilmonth Inspired by Week 1 & Week 4 image prompts.

Close-up and image references under the cut

LadyVictoriaArt

Artemis RHADS Chebokha Far Lands

Tiny art Tag list: @loverboy-havocboy @chaicilatte @elismor

[honeipie]

I love love love your bakugou works! i was wondering if you could write something about him and like izuku, eijiro, shoto, and the reader all being firefighters. i just think ab katsuki in that black tank and the fuckin firefighter pants😋

24 HOURS

katsuki bakugo x reader

synopsis: dating your coworker can be fun sometimes

authors note: tysm!! katsuki would be such a good firefighter tbh 🌞

3:00 PM

“okay this is weird” currently you were in the passengers seat of your boyfriend’s pick up truck on the way to the fire station. luckily, you had both been called in for 24 hour shifts at the same time. katsuki rolled his eyes turning down the street.

“what?”

you motioned over to the radio which was playing your favorite playlist. the playlist that katsuki would complain so much about each time you put it on.

“you haven’t said a word about my music since we’ve gotten into this car” once he hit a stop light you leaned over the middle console getting close to his cheek “what is going on? are you mad or something?”

he turned his head giving you the smallest, quickest peck on your lips “nothin’s wrong” you squinted your eyes skeptically as the light turned green.

pulling out your phone you went to text the firehouse groupchat.

———

y/n

my boyfriend is way to happy at the moment.. what’s going on

izuku

just know that you won’t like it!

kiri

oh he’s not telling you? brutal.

—————

you had just pulled up to the station when you had read the message “katsuki, not today” there were tires, ropes, dumbbells, and ladders sitting outside and in front of the trucks. katsuki gave your thigh a strong squeeze with a smirk.

“happy drill day”

drill day. the one day out of the month where the whole station of firefighters would get together and do drills over and over for a couple of hours. this was your least favorite day considering everything it entailed. of course you knew that you had to stay in shape physically. it was just wasn’t that fun when you already have a trail of sweat running down your back and ruining whatever makeup you at least tried to do.

5:45 PM

“i hate him”

“then why are you looking at him like you want to lick the sweat off his body”

“first of all gross, second of all i may hate him but i’m not blind” you watched the man who was facing away from you. he was currently showing some of the rookies how to turn their sled pull into pulling the real hose.

his back muscles could be seen shifting quickly as he tugged on the hose from the truck. when he was at the end of the hose his arms flexed for one final tug.

he dropped the hose with a loud plop. he placed his hands on his hips and you could see his slow, heavy breaths from there.

“well? i just showed you how to do it. wrap the shit back up and show me” all of them scrambled to get the hose untangled and back into the wheel.

katsuki turned to face you immediately noticing the way you weren’t training.

“why the hell are you here?” he looked over at mina who was checking something on her nails.

“well my boyfriend and best friend work here, and i’m bored, so i think you can put together the rest of the pieces”

“don’t you got people to revive or some shit?”

mina was an emt for the local hospital. her and kirishima actually met at a fire scene when she came over to check out some of his injuries, and the rest was history.

“look at you loud and wrong. i’m not on a shift right now so i decided make myself feel better about my career decisions by watching you people workout for hours on end”

katsuki shook his head clearly fed up with her and the conversation. you just had to pick her to be your best friend.

“just standin’ here?” he asked standing directly in front of you.

“i finished” you huffed out looking up at him. the heat from outside was already kicking your ass, but him being up close made you feel hotter.

“alright, it’s time to do farmers carry. two laps around the room with a minute break in between”

a frown rested on your face when you heard he wanted you to do more. it had almost hit the two hour mark and you were ready to wrap it up.

“i don’t think i can do anymore today. my body hurts”

he scoffed hearing your words “and you know who else’s body is gonna hurt? the people dying in fires because you couldn’t carry them out”

“i’ve done it before so i feel like that doesn’t count” you reached your hand out placing it on his waist “c’mon lieutenant, go easy on me? just for today”

you’d pulled the lieutenant card. sure, that was his rank and people called him that out of respect, but you? you just did it differently. the way you enunciated the ‘t’. the way you’d touch him, because you always touched him when you said it. this was a rare pull so you must’ve been tired.

katsuki raised his eyebrow at your words. a smirk creeped onto his face before he leaned down giving you a long kiss.

mina’s face scrunched up in disgust, and the rookies just mumbled about how his demeanor switched so fast.

when he pulled away he whispered softly in your ear “you just earned yourself another lap. now get those dumbbells and get to work” he turned going back to check on the rookies’ progress.

“well that backfired” mina kicked her feet against the mat.

“yeah, ya think?”

so you the farmers carry, then worked on the stair machine for your last exercise. after that you made your way over to katsuki. he was watching the rookies start on their cooldown stretches.

“i actually finished this time so i’m going to take a shower” you gave him a sharp pat on the back and went to leave, but he grabbed you wrist dragging you back.

“you mad?”

“hm.. not if i smell okonomiyaki when i get out the shower”

you moved your hand away continuing your walk to the bathroom.

6:45

“thank you katsuki”

he only grumbled in response taking a bite of his. kirishima frowned in the corner arms crossed against his chest “why didn’t you make us any? we worked out hard too”

“not enough ingredients”

izuku sat beside you drinking his smoothie “y’know i hate liars. i restocked that pantry yesterday”

mina stood beside kirishima one arm wrapped around his waist “i could give you some of those leftovers from last night”

kiri shook his head “nah, i don’t really want that-“ he shifted his head to see mina giving him a look “oh! no yeah i want that” the two retreated back into the station with nothing more than a wave. shoto almost broke his neck watching the two go inside.

“they’re not gonna have sex in the kitchen right?..”

“no! not in the kitchen. maybe that big closet on the way, but not in the kitchen” you put the last bit of okonomiyaki in your mouth “i’m actually surprised you caught onto that”

“i know right? got the social cues of a fuckin’ boulder”

“katsuki that’s not funny” but the smile on your face gave away that it was a little funny. all was interrupted when a car pulled into the station. all four of you got up to see who it was. a woman got out of the car and made her way to the other side.

“hi! i’m sorry to cause you the trouble, but we’ve done everything and can’t get it off” she opened the door to reveal a boy, about seven years old, with his arm stuck in a water jug “i asked my dad what to do and he said you’d be able to help?”

you all had to stop yourselves from laughing when he struggled getting his arm out of the car.

“don’t worry about it ma’am. we can get that thing right off” you assured her with a smile. izuku had already went inside to get a pair of pliers.

“i know it’s stuck, but can you you still feel your arm? move it around without any pain?”

as you asked he lifted up his arm and slammed it back down into his side. the force took him by surprise and he ended up falling over “i’m okay!” he went to get up his mother assisting him.

“stop being a fool and answer the nice lady’s question please”

“my arm feels fine”

10:00 PM

“alright,” you placed your cards down onto the table and started to rise “i’m gonna head to sleep”

the crew mumbled quick goodbyes already setting up for another round. you made your way through the station until you reached one of the bedrooms. slowly, you opened the door making sure to not make too much noise. after closing it once more, you went to strip out of your clothes into something more comfortable.

“scoot over”

a grunt left katsuki as he rolled over to one side of the bed. it was no surprise that he was already asleep. this man worked like clockwork. exactly at 8:30pm every day he would stop whatever he was doing and head up to bed.

you crawled up next to him wrapping your arms around his torso. katsuki didn’t care about that big spoon, little spoon stuff. all he wanted to do was get comfortable and rest.

your head rested on his chest listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart.

“i hope we don’t get any calls tonight”

“me either”

4:00 AM

“i knew you’d like this one”

you had bent over laughing at the sight before you. a teen had gotten stuck in one of the baby swings, so they had to call to get him out. you were asleep when they got the call and katsuki refused to tell you what it was.

“how does this even happen?” you tried to subside your laughter walking over to go help kiri get the poor, embarrassed teen out of the swing.

“it was a dare! i couldn’t back down the stakes were too high”

you wrapped your arms under his armpits while kirishima got around his calves. you counted down from three then started to pull him out of the seat.

“what is more embarrassing than this?”

“asking my crush out in front of her whole lunch table”

“well hopefully her whole lunch table doesn’t see that recording” you nodded your head over to his friends who were videotaping the whole thing. the teens started to go back and forth as you wiggled him out.

after making sure there was no little injuries on him katsuki walked over “all of you should get home. we decided not to call the cops, but someone else might”

they all nodded their heads in understanding waiting until you turned around to whisper “i should’ve gotten myself stuck. she was bad as shit”

you cringed at the words, but katsuki let out a loud laugh. you slapped him on his arm going over to the truck “it’s not funny!”

3:00 PM

you hopped back into katsuki’s pickup with a smile on your face “another shift completed. i can’t wait to go home and get a good nights sleep”

he threw both of your bags into the backseat before getting into the driver’s seat. after the early morning call, there were a few others. a couple of bush fires, and people stuck in an elevator. safe to say, you couldn’t wait for your two days off.

“i bet you can’t. got a hot date with one of those boys? if i remember they called you bad as shit?”

you rolled your eyes at his little joke.

“shut up! you promised you wouldn’t bring that up again”

he shrugged a smug smile on his lips as he pulled out of the lot.

“can i play my music?”

“fuck no”

“katsuki!”

taglist! @sagejin 🫶🏾

lmk if you want to be added

[skyguyslittleproblem]

i have this old firefighter cody art for a fic i've been working on and i looked at it (it's been a while) and realized that i made him so fucking pale for no reason at all. so anyway, here's "fixed" firefighter cody

(i refuse to shade the hair and clothing, i am nearing my limits)

[s0rinsleeps]

I’m dead- I’m alive! But I’m dead.

[tennessoui]

I just saw the Trans Siberian Orchestra and the amount of pyrotechnics made me think of firefighter Anakin and musician Obi-Wan! No joke but any time the stage shot fire, I thought “Anakin would be so disappointed” XD

lmao this is so funny because firefighter anakin would be so so disappointed in the pyrotechnics of it all. I bet he and obi-wan go to a concert just for fun and they use pyrotechnics and anakin looks over and sees this glint in obi-wan’s eyes and has a real moment of worry that his boyfriend doesn’t have a thing for him he just has a thing for fire and it was either date a firefighter or like. A volcano specialist. and one’s easier to find than the other

it’s all very stupid of course but that’s them to a tee. Anakin has a ban on obi-wan using pyrotechnics in his show anymore so he does a whole rain thing but that just makes his clothes stick to his body and the fan in anakin loves it and then boyfriend in anakin also loves it but doesn’t love the edits people make afterward

he’s rooting for obi-wan to do a wind era next cause that’s really hard to make sexy and or dangerous

[christinesficrecs]

Hi! I'm hoping you can help find a fic for me! I've been searching forever and have had no luck. What I remember:

It's a firefighter fic where both stiles and Derek are fire fighters for different places. There's a huge wild fire that everyone's trying to coordinate help with which is how stiles and Derek meet. I think(?) Stiles dad is the captain of his unit. Towards the end of the fic they're pulling units back from the fire and I think stiles almost gets trapped. That's all I remember!

Does anyone remember reading this one?

yesforreal found this one. Thank you!!

this dance of days by vivisea | 27.9K | Mature

He feels like the world stuttered to a halt and started rotating the other direction within the past few days, like the fire burned brighter only to push him into his proper place. Three days ago, he had no idea werewolves existed, had no idea Derek could be anyone other than Hale, and now he knows how it feels to be pressed up against him, knows how awkward Erica’s sideburns are, knows with absolute certainty that being taken off fire relief duty won’t tear him away from this group.

But fires have always been dangerous and unpredictable.

[zepskies]

Something Real

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader

Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 6.3K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.

Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️

🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist

“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.

The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile. 

The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.

“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.

“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied. 

This, from the man who storms burning buildings.

You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest. 

“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.

It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out. 

“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go. 

“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.

Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.

Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism. 

“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.

“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”

“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”

You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.

“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”

Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting. 

“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile. 

“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.” 

Dean hummed again, raising his brows.

“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.

“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.

“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”

Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own. 

“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”

His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.

It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given. 

Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool. 

Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room. 

“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”

But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him. 

“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through. 

“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door. 

“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”

Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”

“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.

“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said. 

They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.

It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.) 

Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already. 

You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night. 

“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.

At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.

“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”

You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness. 

“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.

Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.

“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”

You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.

Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…

Your newfound family. 

The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.

By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.

The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before. 

However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.

It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public. 

You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.

“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door. 

“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”

“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled. 

“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”

You had to laugh.

“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.

You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.

You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag. 

“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile. 

“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool. 

There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.

You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.

“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said. 

Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool. 

You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.  

Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks. 

“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow. 

“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said. 

You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”

Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand. 

“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.

He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.

Dean could see there was something off with you, though.

“You okay?” he asked. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”

Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you. 

One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about. 

He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.” 

You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”

Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man. 

“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”

After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear. 

“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”

Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding. 

Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.

Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage. 

That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”

You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention. 

Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.

Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”

He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.

“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt. 

Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”

“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.” 

You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off. 

You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.

“Thanks,” you whispered. 

He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”

You smirked and twined your arms around his neck. 

“I prefer Captain,” you said.

Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”

“I really do,” you replied cheekily.

After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear. 

“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm. 

You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family. 

Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm. 

You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go. 

You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth. 

You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms. 

Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.

Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.

“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.

“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.

“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him. 

“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.

“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning. 

You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.

“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”

At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”

You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.

“Yes, you do,” you agreed. 

Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing. 

“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”

Dean was quiet for a beat.

“How long then?” he asked.

“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment. 

“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”

The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.

Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.

“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”

You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile. 

“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.

Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”

Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.

That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.

Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.

“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”

Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.

“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”

Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.

She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.

You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…

“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.

“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.

She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours. 

“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”

It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.

As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry. 

Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.

Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.

When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.

“What do you think?” you asked. 

Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you. 

“Damn,” he said lowly.

You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.

“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand. 

“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.

You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”

Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.

“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.

He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”

You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.

“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.” 

Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard. 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said. 

“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”

He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. 

“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.

“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”

Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”

You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”

And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself. 

“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.

“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said. 

“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.

“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”

Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.

“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.

You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.

“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.

Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.

“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled. 

“I’m counting on it.”

You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake  to make up for it.)

You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror.��

He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement. 

Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind. 

“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”

Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.

“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”

“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly. 

The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.

“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.

“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”

You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”

“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”

You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.

“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”

Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while. 

Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche. 

A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind. 

“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked. 

“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”

“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks. 

He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”

“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”

Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him. 

Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast. 

He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex. 

“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now. 

You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead. 

“Come on,” you whispered.

When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.

He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water. 

Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.   

In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts. 

He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.

He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”

“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was. 

Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand. 

You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”

“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.

You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body. 

But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit. 

“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you. 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.

You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”

He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone. 

And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him. 

“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls. 

By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss. 

“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked. 

You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever. 

“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”

Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.

“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.

To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss. 

Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light. 

A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow. 

A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone. 

Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job. 

Now, he had an actual future to build with you.

And he was more than ready to get started. 

AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️‍🔥

Want to read this in podfic form? (Note: A "podcast" fic is a narrated version by my lovely friend Sandra, one of the hosts of the Idling in the Impala SPN podcast.)

🎙️ Listen to the episode by clicking the thumbnail below:

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Smoke Eater Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma

@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found

@thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @anticxrrupt

@lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@brianochka @branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester

@chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @illicithallways @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

[lethargicluv]

Firefighter Ghost Blurb 2

Part 1

Firefigher Simon "Ghost" Riley who didn't think he'd ever mess up a team training exercise until he's falling from the scaffolding to the safety mats below because his boot missed a rung when he saw your face smiling at them from your second story window. Soap is gaping down from the top of the obstacle course in disbelief because LIEUTENANT SIMON RILEY just fumbled so hard he actually fell, he never thought he'd ever see that happen. Gaz is still in position to start once Ghost made it to the top joining Soap but is now trying very hard not to laugh outloud so his face is buried in his arms and his shoulder are trembling slightly. Price has his clipboard to his forehead in exasperation because how would they even make it to regionals for the upcoming yearly firefighter team obstacle course competition if they were messing up in practice like this. Simon has never been more thankful for his mask because he's more red than the firetrucks in the station now that he knows you saw what just happened. He can see you giggling in your window from where he lies splayed out on the mats and he thinks that if he gets to see you laugh like this more often he wouldn't mind falling again. 

You find out that they've been training to compete next month when you bring today's taco tuesday dinner over to them. The recipe seemed to call for a bit too much spice and you get to witness Soap choke and splutter while Gaz brings the table more water. Simon muses that it can't be that bad and that Soap's just a wimp until he takes a bit as feels like someone lit his mouth on fire. Price jokes and tells you it's a good punishment for them for messing up training today. When Soap recovers from his coughing fit he asks if you'll come watch them compete and Simon wants to strangle him because he knows that Soap knows exactly what he's doing the cheeky little bastard. He's going have to discuss upping the level of training with Price after this because if you're coming there's no way in hell he's going to let 141 place anything but first place. They're going to nationals and that’s final. It's now non-negotiable. 

You tell him as he walks you back across the street to your house after dinner that you're thrilled to watch them compete and that you think he looks particularly handsome when hes moving. A week later he brings you a sweatshirt that matches theirs that says 141's honorary member, Hearth, and when you ask his why Hearth he says they all agreed that you remind them of Hestia the goddess of the hearth. You're hospitable and always by the fire stations side. Someone that takes care of them all. You make him what’s possibly the best shepard’s pie he’s ever had the next day.

[indigo-greer-collins]

has anyone thought of a firefighter AU for the shaw pack? (no i don’t just like imagining the boys in uniform and carrying people to safety what are you talking about dude…)

[gimme1margarita]

About

Early 20s. She/her | Of a hundred earths but not this one. | MDNI 18+

Writer・Harry Potter, The Hunger Games, Avatar & Marvel enthusiast・*currently just a CoD fic writer*・Poetry & fantasy lover・Earning my freak badge via Ao3 one chapter at a time

I do NOT give permission for my work to be made into c.ai or any ai bots.

Masterlist

CALL OF DUTY

Johnny MacTavish

✳︎ Here, There And Everywhere | [COMPLETE] 67.4k w/c, Explicit (primarily plot/fluff) H.D firefighter!Soap x OC/Reader (phys: dark hair. Single mother).

Read chapter 1 on Tumblr the rest is out on Ao3 :)

Simon Riley

✳︎ Like a Tattoo | [Ongoing - priority] 60.1k w/c, Explicit (primarily plot/less fluff, more silly awkwardness) H.D/retired firefighter!Ghost x OC/Reader (BSF younger sister. Phys: big curly hair, curvy/soft.)

Blog here

Ruined Me | [Ongoing - slower updates] 15.3k w/c, Explicit (primarily plot) bodyguard!Ghost x OC/Reader (lead singer in a band. Phys: dyed blue hair.)

Blog here

John Price | incoming late April...

✳︎ Station 141 Part 3 ↓

"Rekindled" | Explicit (primarily plot & fluff, light smut & angst), H.D/retired firefighter!John Price x OC/Reader (divorcee with kids)

▷ Western au ↓

"From Stormrock to Windhaven" | Explicit (primarily plot/less fluff) outlaw!John Price x OC (the woman he's trying to smuggle across the mountains)

One shot Handyman!John Price x single mom

Kyle Garrick | loading...

✳︎ Station 141 Part 4 ↓

"How Not To Have A One Night Stand" | Explicit (fluff, smut, general silliness), firefighter!Gaz x OC/Reader (daycare worker, southern sweetheart)

Hockey player!Gaz x Photographer

Alejandro Vargas | loading...

▷ Western au, established relationship, fluff/smut, one shot

Series links

Station 141 [all my firefighter!141 fics, set in Rosewood, a fictional small town]