#Heated FireMan

[decaffeinated-heads]

If a jawbreaker was a robot

[floweyjewel]

I did a draw pile

@quishyorgannet @switchnx @decaffeinated-heads @thisisadriana4evertugsfan @sundove88 @cak3o @spooks-is-scared @zzzzombroccoli @negakuura @randybigdick @rakiniko @iucemon @kingsmagiccard @starbusterforte @anonymous-harpy @befriendthemurderfox @missjukebox8bit @hikikomori-gal @hoshi-no-pops-05 @railway323 @giabunnygirl @d3pr3773dc4n73r

[arabianbeans]

Lmao sorry yall, accidentally took a pic while i was all up in that heat-ussy

[cafe-song]

BLEH

i dunno

[jesterguy]

Two Door Cinema Club is coming in February and I'm going if it costs me my life

[moonsgemini]

cherry wine - firefighter!rafe

* ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ₊˚ ⋅

summary: who knew career day would involve a hot sexy mustached firefighter wanting to take you on a date.

warnings: teacher!reader x firefighter!rafe, mutual pining, fluff, a little self doubt, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, talk of sex but no smut

an: that pic is how I picture firefighter!rafe, I don’t think I need to elaborate any more. title will make more sense in the second part, hope you all enjoy!! & yes this will be a part 2 of the date hehehe. I did not proof read this so my bad

masterlist - part two

* ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ₊˚ ⋅

This day could not end sooner. I had been the most chaotic day trying to consistently wrangle a bunch of nine year olds. It was the third grade’s career day at the school you taught at.

The day has been filled with moving from station to station and learning about new careers. Some were a little more interesting than others. It was hard to get the kids to leave the lizard wrangler but they didn’t care much for the optometrist.

Some of the lovely volunteers were kind enough to provide treats for the kids which only made their energy sky rocket. It was your first year teaching and even though you felt confident in your abilities to handle the kids you still tripped up a bit. A kid scraped his knee running from the hair stylist to the park ranger. You were a bit busy untangling a brush out another students hair to tell him not to run. It had been a lot.

Now it was nearing closer to the bell ringing and your weekend starting. You were definitely going to need a drink after today. Career day led up to the fire department coming and showing the kids every tool, button, and switch on their trucks. It would give you and your fellow teachers some time to relax as they all sat around the parking lot waiting for them to arrive.

“You survive today?” Martha asked as she stood next to you. The two of you started at this school together, both being first time teachers. That alone strengthened the immediate bond you had with the curly haired woman.

You let out a tired laugh, “Barely, you?”

She nodded, “Barely.”

You looked around briefly to make sure students weren’t listening to you two, “Winnie’s tonight?”

She grinned happily, “Thought you’d never ask. I could use a drink or ten.”

“Agreed.” You nodded.

That’s when you all spotted the two trucks approaching. The kids started to cheer and scream as they honked.

Martha leaned in to murmur, “At least we get to end the day with hot men with mustaches.”

That’s when it hit you. You hadn’t even thought about that all day. Now your hair was a mess and your light makeup all practically gone.

“I didn’t even think about that. I look like a mess,” You muttered.

“Oh please you look good. Even after wrangling twenty five children all day.”

You nudged her with a grin. The trucks parked in front of the students and the firefighters began filing out. The principal stood in front introducing them and what they were going to do.

Martha was right. Hot fireman indeed. There were six guys and they all began introducing themselves. You tried your hardest to pay attention to each one and watch your kids, but it was hard when one particular firefighter stood out.

He looked younger than the rest with his bleached hair and untrimmed mustache. His biceps bulged in his navy tee shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked so big and broad you wanted to melt. His eyes scanned the crowd as the guy next to him began introducing himself. That’s when his eyes passed you and did a double take. At least that’s what you hoped that was. He made eye contact with you and a small smirk began forming on his lips. Not looking away as your face began to heat up from his stare.

You looked away briefly as your nerves bubbled. When you looked back he was still looking at you and that smirk had gotten wider. Even when it was his turn to introduce himself he didn’t look away.

“Hi everyone I’m Rafe, I’ve been a firefighter for three years now. I also help train the new fire dogs to be able to help us out when we need them,” He finished giving the crowd a big smile. He finally looked away from you as he rubbed his mustache.

-

The presentation was supposed to be and hour but it somehow felt like five minutes. Probably because you couldn’t look away from someone in particular. He was just so handsome. The way his back muscles tightened and arms bulged as he picked things up had you feeling butterflies in places you didn’t know were possible.

This was not like you to get so dumbstruck by a man. You should know better that attractive fireman should not be trusted. But damn was he good to look at.

Rafe was grateful that he had decided to sign up to volunteer for career day at the schools. He liked seeing how excited kids got at their job so he was doing it solely for that. He didn’t expect to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. At first he thought the teachers were all going to be his mom’s age older, but nope. He had been very wrong.

As him and the guys went through their presentation he couldn’t help but glance over at her any chance he got.

Even the mom’s who arrived early to get a glimpse of them weren’t enough to distract him. Even after first setting his eyes on her he knew he was going to do everything in his power to talk to her.

-

The firefighters stayed until all the kids had been picked up so they didn’t get stuck in the after school traffic. Rafe was thankful they didn’t get a call either or else he would have missed his chance. He looked over to where you were waving goodbye to your last student of the day and saw his open window.

He pat Javier on the back leaving him to wind up the hose himself, “Be right back.”

He stood up with a furrowed brow, “Of course Cameron.” He muttered as he said the blonde stride over to the pretty teacher.

You were texting Martha as you began walking to your class to see if she was already at Winnies. She had gotten out earlier as all her students were picked up already. You didn’t notice the broad man that approached you.

“Hi, can I walk you back to your class?” You looked up slightly startled.

Were you hallucinating because of the heat? Why was this big tall handsome stranger talking to you? You looked around to see if he was talking to someone else.

“Me?” You pointed at yourself with a questioning look.

His smirk widened, “Yeah, it’s really dangerous out here to be walking alone.” He teased.

You laughed, “Right um yeah sure.”

“Lead the way,” He said as he put his hands in his pockets.

“Your guys presentation was really good, the kids loved it. I already know they’re not going to shut up about it next week,” You laughed brushing hair behind your ear. You felt like a teenager again with a crush.

He smiled, “Thanks. Hopefully inspired some future firefighters. I’ve been doing it for a couple years now, is this your first year teaching?”

You were surprised he even thought about that, “Yeah actually it is.”

“I knew I’d remember that face if I’d seen you before,” Rafe wasn’t one to hold back with his flirting. When he knew what he wanted he would do anything in his power to get it. His career choice definitely helps him out a bit.

You coughed a surprised laugh, “Oh I- uh this is me,” you stuttered out as you got to your classroom. You weren’t used to men being so forward. They usually danced around compliments like they wanted you to work for it before earning one.

He opened the door for you, “I’m Rafe by the way,” He held his big hand out for you to shake. He took your much smaller hand in his as you told him your name. The heat of having his attention never leaving your cheeks.

“Are you doing anything tonight? I’d love to see you outside of work,” He leaned against the door casually. As he folded his arms over his chest they looked even bigger. You’re surprised there’s no drool dripping down your chin.

“No uh well yes I am, I’m meeting my friend Martha. She was standing next to me during the assembly. We’re going to Winnie’s if you’d like to join. Or not it’s fine if you don’t and you changed your mind or something,” You cleared your throat as you finished rambling.

That smirk turning into a wide grin, “I’ll see you there. Maybe I’ll bring one of the guys with me.”

She nodded with a smile, “That’d be great, I’m sure Martha would appreciate that.”

“I’ll see you then,” He winked subtly and walked back out. That smug grin still on his face.

-

“You are the bestest friend I’ve ever had!” Martha exclaimed as you finished telling her about your conversation with the hot firefighter.

You laughed, “I didn’t even do anything, god he’s so hot I hope I don’t embarrass myself.” You looked back at the entrance to the bar to see if he was here yet.

“You won’t. He probably loves the whole cute young elementary teacher thing,” Marth said as she took a sip of her cocktail.

“I don’t wanna be that though. I want to be a hot sexy woman,” You sighed dramatically.

When you got to winnies you spent about 10 minutes in your car fixing your smudged makeup and messy hair. You really wished career day didn’t put you through the ringer. You even changed into a random top that was in the backseat because the tee shirt you were wearing wasn’t doing you justice.

It had been almost an hour and they still hadn’t shown up. You had begun to feel disappointed that maybe he was just all talk. Maybe he did that to every new teacher at the schools he went to. But to save yourself the self pity you thought maybe he got a call and had to work. That was the most reasonable explanation. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“They probably got busy. Saving lives or something,” Martha waved off as she finished her second drink. You were also currently on your second and your feet were feeling fuzzy so you were cutting yourself off. You’d probably end up going home after the buzz wore off.

You tried not to show how disappointment flowed through you, “Yeah probably. Guess it was too go-“ you cut yourself off as you saw the door open and a head of bleach blonde hair came through. Your eyes widened and look away quickly.

“Ohmygod he’s here,” you mumbled to Martha. He hasn’t seen you yet.

She smiled, “Is the friend hot?”

You looked over and that’s when you met his eye. Rafe was already looking at you. He smirked and began walking over with a guy to a similar build as him walked behind him.

“Yes and they’re coming,” You said quickly as you cleared your throat.

“Hello ladies,” Rafe smirked as he approached.

You smiled softly, “Hey,”

Rafe thought you were pretty before but now in this setting you looked unreal. He was so glad he signed up for career day.

“This is Josh,” He nodded towards the brunette next to him.

You smiled politely at him, “Hi Josh. I’m y/n and this is Martha,” You looked over at her, “Martha, Rafe.”

They greeted each other as the guys sat down. Having Rafe so close to you was making you a bit dizzy. The alcohol wasn’t helping that either.

“What are you drinking?” Rafe asked you nodding towards your drink.

“Oh I was having gin and pineapple juice but I think I’m done for the night,” You admitted sheepishly.

He smiled teasingly, “Well wish I could have made it earlier to actually have that drink with you.”

You thought about it for a minute, “I guess I could have one more with you. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“You sure about that? You’re okay with just straight tequila shots?”

Your eyes widened muttering, “Geez maybe you will be drinking alone.”

He laughed, “In that case I guess we’ll just have a beer?” He said more as a question wanting to make sure that was okay with you.

You pretended to think for a minute humming, “Hmmm fine with me. Except no IPA’s,” you said making a face

“Yes ma’am,” He nodded getting up from the high table.

Across from you Josh was getting Martha’s drink order and you could already tell he liked her. The way he leaned in as if he couldn’t hear her despite the bar not being loud yet. You looked over at the bar where Rafe stood waiting for a bartender. He looked so good leaning over the bar. The muscles of his back flexing under the navy shirt. You couldn’t be more grateful for career day.

-

Rafe was oh so screwed. He was liking this third grade teacher a little too much. He had never felt so attracted to someone. Not just physically. He loved how animated you were when you talked, always using your hands. The passion in your eyes when you spoke about your class was admirable.

It was a done deal that you weren’t going to just be a hook up. No way would Rafe think about letting you out of his grasp. You were so soft and sweet, he can already imagine just how sweet you taste.

He knew it wasn’t one sided either. He saw the way you watched him as he told childhood stories and how he became a firefighter. You didn’t look at him like some hero the way most women did but you looked at him like you were proud of him. It made this weird feeling in his chest bloom. But he loved that look in your eye.

Whatever dance you two had been playing the last hour was starting to wear him thin. He wanted to touch you. Not even in a sexual way but he wanted to tuck that piece of hair behind your ear or give your thigh a reassuring squeeze every time you thought you were rambling. Rafe wanted to hear you go on and on about everything.

Throughout the night your chairs had slowly started to scoot closer to each other. Then your arms started brushing each other. Even the small contact set his skin on fire. The need in his bones growing.

You would dare to move a muscle once your skin touched he was so warm and as you looked over his bicep was just beghing to be bitten. The alcohol was helping your brain wander to that place you only visited at night alone in your bed.

As was telling a story about his vacation in Italy your eyes couldn’t help but wander back over to those biceps that had you drooling when you first saw him. He had his arms crossed over the table. Muscles flexing as he picked up his beer bottle and took a sip. The way his neck moved as he swallowed had you clenching your thighs. You wondered what his skin would taste like. You also wanted to know what it’d feel like to be wrapped in those biceps as he held you up while pou-

“You good?” Rafe asked lowering his head to your gaze. A teasing smirk on his lips.

Your doe eyes looked up at him, “Uh huh.” Way to play it cool.

He chuckled, “What were you thinking about?” You hadn’t noticed that Martha and Josh had gotten up and walked over to the dart board across the bar. Now leaving the two of you alone. The bar had gotten more crowded now and

You shook your head fighting the heat creeping up your spine, “Nothing really.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in closer, “I bet we were thinking about the same thing.”

You swallowed hard trying to use as much of that liquid courage as possible, “Then tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll let you know if you’re right.”

He liked that playful look in your eye, “Well I was thinking about soft your thighs would feel on my cheeks.”

Your eyes widened. Maybe you really weren’t expecting him to be honest. But that truth had you fidget in your seat as that warm feeling in your stomach blossomed.

“I guess we were then,” You hum.

“Mhmm,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “And what should we do about that sweetheart?”

“I-I” And just like that you had lost your cool. This insanely attractive, funny, smart guy wanted to get into your pants. Hot guys with all those personality traits come once in a blue moon and you were fumbling.

He laughed raising a hand to your shoulder brushing your hair back. His fingertips grazing your exposed collarbone. The light touch making goosebumps rise on your skin. You wanted to lean into his touch but before you could he pulled away, “Let me take you out. Just you and me.”

“Really?” You were a bit dumbfounded. It’s not like you thought he was going to be a bad guy but a part of you had prepared for a one time hook up kind of guy. Which you didn’t mind at first because well it had been almost a year since anyone has met your needs. You weren’t going to turn down sex with a hot firefighter so you’re definitely not turning down a date with one. But you couldn’t help but be curious as to why.

He nodded, “Of course. You’re beautiful, sweet, funny, smart, passionate. I really could go on but I’ll save that for our date.”

You huffed out an amused laugh, “Okay yeah I’d love to go on a date. Assuming this doesn’t count?”

He shook his head with a frown, “I’d never do this for a first date, especially not for someone like you. I’ll treat you right y/n don’t you worry.”

That heat was back again, “You say this to all the women you meet at on career day?”

He smirked, “Just the ones I can’t stop thinking about. Which has only happened with you.”

His reassurances ignited something in you. The feeling of being wanted was something you hadn’t felt in a while and you really liked it. You really liked who was making you feel wanted.

“So how would you treat me Rafe?”

God. He loved the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. He wanted to hear you say it in so many scenarios. Specifically ones where you’re naked.

His knee bumped hers under the table, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six and show you exactly what I’d do.”

[lovingluke]

Putting out the fire. Or just heating up?

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: August 2024

Hi! Thank you so much for looking at my fic recs— I truly hope you find something that you haven’t read, or something to reread maybe? Please show all of these wonderful authors some love on their original post to let them know they made something wonderful ✨

Some of the authors on this list is on hiatus, but please don’t let that stop you from reblogging or commentating on their story— because you don’t know when they might pop back in and see your lovely comment/reblog, so please— if you like something, show some love to the author 🥰

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty or dark as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | 💜 | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐Discord Discourse: pt1 and pt2 (series; discontinued) @joheunsaram [4k]  // knj x f.reader // idol!au, internet relationships, s2l, fanfic writer!reader // 🌩️🥰

📝 Kim Namjoon likes to spend time in a discord server… dedicated to him. With new friends and a budding crush, will he ever be able to truly be himself without revealing who he is?

🗨️ oh this one is so good! It’s amazing! The concept and plot is soo funny! I would be scared if this happened to me 😂

⭐You Set My Heart on Fire: pt1 and pt2 (series; completed) @hayjeon [21k] // knj x f.reader // one night stand, s2l, workplace!au, fireman!Namjoon + paramedic!reader // 🌩️🥰🥵

📝 as a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.  

🗨️ holy shit this is amazing 💖 Namjoon as a firefighter? So fucking hot 🔥 oc as a surgeon turned paramedic ✨ and all the action, the tension, the friends with the whole crew and all the guys??? 🥹 Fuck. This one is amazing, another favorite! 

⭐Show Me How @imaginationofacrazyfangirl [3.9k] // knj x f.reader // tinder!au, virgin!au // 🥵

📝 you swiped right on a nerd, instead you got a Greek God. Or tired of your virginity, you decide to throw caution to the wind and find a hookup on tinder.

🗨️ omg this is really amazing! I’m going to warn you that it ends on a cliffhanger and there’s no other part to it, but it’s so amazing and it’s worth a read even though you’ll 100% be left wanting more 🥹😂 Their chemistry is so off the charts and the foreplay is so good 👏🏾

⭐Real Magic @here2bbtstrash [16.7k] // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, workplace!au, single dad!Namjoon // 🥵🥰

📝 the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

🗨️ omg this was just so fucking amazing 🥰 I love everything about it and the plot was so fluffy 🥺 Namjoon was just so fluffy and I love his kid ✨ Such a sweet holiday fic, and even if it isn’t read around Christmas time it will bring a smile to your face. It’s truly amazing 💯💜

⭐Sweet Company @remedyx [4.4k]  // knj x f.reader // coffee shop!au, christmas!au, s2l // 🥰

📝 no one should ever have to spend the holidays alone. Coffee makes for better conversation than eggnog anyway.

🗨️ ih this was so cute and fluffy with a sprinkle of angst. I really loved the length that Namjoon went through for oc and it was such a sweet gesture 🥹 It’s completely SFW!!!

⭐Lost & Found @l0mljeonjungkook [9.6k]  // knj x f.reader // single mom!reader, bf2l // 🥰🥵

📝 eight years beside him were nothing but a roller coaster ride. Being a single mother wasn't easy, but your best friend, Kim Namjoon made your way smooth. You never knew you felt something for him until you read his diary, which you weren't supposed to read ever. What will you do, if not only you but Hyeon, your baby, and your best friend Namjoon, wants the same, what you desired for so long?

🗨️ this was cute 🥹

⭐All Mine @cui-nisi [3.8k] // ksj x f.reader // college!au, fwb, e2l // 🥵

📝 with Jin being the student body president, you have to keep your purely sexual relationship on the DL, but what happens when it’s no longer just sexual?

🗨️ oh I really liked this one! The tension and energy between oc and Seokjin uffff 🔥

⭐Textbook Love @helenazbmrskai [11.6k] // ksj x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, writer!reader, f2l // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 loving your best friend’s brother is forbidden so what is even more forbidden you might ask. It’s writing smut about him. Can you still remain friends after he discovers your secrets?

🗨️ iiihhh, it was so good! ✨🥵

⭐Small Tuna Fish @floralseokjin [17.1k] // ksj x f.reader // college!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 Kim Seokjin is a really nice guy. (Not to be confused with a ‘Nice Guy’). Too nice for someone like you, you’re sure. Which is why you’ve been attempting to ignore what’s going on between you. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with you. He couldn’t possibly like you. Could he? It the end, it takes one charity car wash event and one – or two, depending on how dirty your mind is – soakings to make things very clear. 

🗨️ damn, this was so funny, sweet and sexy at the same time ✨💯 loved the plot, the car wash–the wetness?? Omg. Everything was so fucking perfect 💖

⭐Dream Come True @sugaurora [16.8k] // ksj x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

🗨️ shit I’m in love with this 🤧 It’s so fucking amazing, beautiful, sweet and fluffy. I lived it so much 💖 💯

⭐With You @yoonpobs [22.1k] // ksj x f.reader // marriage!au, divorce!au, childhood friends2lovers // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 marrying your childhood best friend was not the love story that most painted it to be. you knew that better than anyone else.

🗨️ I really adore stories where the characters undergo emotional development 🥹 and these… They grow so much, and they even have supportive friends and family 🤧 Jin was a bit of a douche yes but he learned from his mistakes (hopefully keeps at it) and I really loved everything in it 🤧✨ I also loved that Jin suggested couples therapy, because I think that would be a big assert for them to achieve a healthier marriage 🥹 and when he asked oc on a date, and she went “but were married?” 🤭 also, I really think that going on dates while married is a really good way to keep the marriage alive too 🥰💜 I really loved it 💯

⭐Warm This Winter @jamaisjoons [51.6k] // ksj x f.reader (ft. ex!jjk) // one night stand, s2l, exes (jjk), christmas!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 spending the winter vacation with an ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend was not something anyone would ever consider doing. spending the winter vacation with both an ex-boyfriend, his new girlfriend, and the one night stand you’d used to try to get over him, well that was a whole other situation that anyone sane would have fled from. and yet, here you are. caught between your best friend (and consequently your ex-boyfriend), and the very same man who you’d fallen into bed with after a night of wallowing in self pity. all while stuck in the picturesquely beautiful - and cruelly romantic - austrian alps. well. at least you can say you had an interesting christmas.

🗨️ PERFECTION 💯 This was so fucking incredible, I don’t know where to begin… I love Jin in this, he’s so fucking funny charming, sweet, kind and witty. He’s so him. The dynamic between all of the characters was amazing, and the tension and unresolved feelings between oc and Jungkook was so fucking good! I loved all the jealousy too, and then the fading of the jealousy. When things shifted for oc, how Seokjin helped her, and in that, she fell for him 🤧 Such a lovely Christmas story! There’s a lot of angst in it, yes, and tension, dear god, the tension is so good 😭 there humor, happiness, live and friendship. And missed chances, living with consequences 🥹✨ IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. IF YOU HAVEN’T READ IT BEFORE, DO IT NOW, AND IF YOU HAVE, READ IT AGAIN 💖

⭐The Devil Wears Valentino @orchidyoonkook [10.4k] // myg x f.reader // devil!Yoongi, “friends” to lovers, spooky!au // 🥵🥰🌩️👻🪄

📝 having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way. And obnoxiously flirty.

🗨️ there is just so much in this one, and it’s so fucking amazing!!!! There’s so much lore, and brilliant storytelling and the writing was just so fucking suberb ✨ This is hands down one of the best stories I’ve ever read, and I’m so happy I did and I’ll revisit this story again sometime, because, fuck, it was just soo fucking good!!! 😭 I think this will be a perfect read at least once a year, preferably around Halloween— and then also on Yoongi’s birthday, because 🥵 Really, you should read this anything, multiple times! This has really become one of my personal favorites 💎

⭐By the Time I’ve Figured Out What it’s Worth @ugh-yoongi [20k] // myg x f.reader // musician!Yoongi, est. relationship, marriage!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 you used to find comfort in it—listening to those old songs. the shy sounds of falling in love, the tinkling of a ring in a dish, the inevitable crash and burn. all those songs aren’t so comforting anymore, when you’d do anything to keep him and yoongi’s got one foot out the door.

🗨️ this was so heartbreakingly good, I don’t know where to begin!? It’s so raw and real, and this is very special to me, because I relate to the plot a lot. It really describes some struggles of marriage and relationships so well, how they handle the tough times! It was such a good read! Is it angsty? Yeah. Did I cry? Yeah. It was just perfection. I was really moved by this. So relatable, raw and realistic. So emotional. So beautiful 🤧💖

⭐The Seventh Muse @wwilloww [6.7k] // myg x f.reader // f2l, librarian!au // 🥵🥰

📝 as a writer, your favorite place in the world is the library. But you’re quickly coming to realize that it might not be the books that keep drawing you back, but the handsome, smart librarian who always knows exactly what you need.

🗨️ Cute and I really like it 💖

⭐Too High @ysljoon [1.7k] // myg x f.reader x fwb!Hoseok // toxic relationships, ex!Yoongi// 🌩️

📝 you haven't moved on from your ex, can someone else pick up the pieces for you or are you going to keep yourself in the cycle of the failed relationship?

🗨️ Oh this was bittersweet 🥺 going back to a guy who hurt you (I’m guessing emotionally), but he’s your home and comfort 🥺 I can see why OC’s toxic in her behavior, and I feel sad for everyone involved 🤧 The story is really good and it’s very emotional 💖

⭐Three Tangerines (series; ongoing) @kithtaehyung [n/a] // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 Throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ 3tan is back on the list!!! 🥰 In case you haven’t read the new drabble of 3tan717 ‘Bet Wrong’ please go do it now, it’s so fucking good, sweet and dirty ✨

⭐Swing Life Away @aphrodijin [5.2k] // myg x f.reader // marriage!au, pregnancy!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 it's your first anniversary as a married couple but not only did you forget today's special occasion, you also didn't prepare a self-made gift for your husband -- except for the bundle of joy in your womb.

🗨️ This was so fucking cute and sweet!! Omg I loved it so much 😭💯💜

⭐Minted (series; ongoing) @/kithtaehyung [9.4k] // myg x f.reader // haegeum!au, gang!au, street king!Yoongi, street cart vendor!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous.

🗨️ Another amazing story from Ryen! This Yoongi is dark and so so interesting. There’s a lot of suspense, tension and angst, but it’s so fucking good! It’s fast paced, and it’s a slow burn at the same time— don’t ask me how Ryen does that, but it’s perfect! 👏💖

⭐Not Interested @sehunpeachy [20k] // jhs x f.reader // e2l, college!au, swim team!au // 🥵🥰🌩️😂

📝 nobody has ever succeeded at swooping you off your feet. that is until you become coach assistant for your college’s swim team and maybe then, you learn everybody deserves a chance at love.

🗨️ wow, wow, wow. Enemies to lovers? 🥵 The tension between them was so fucking good, and the fact that it was a swim team??? Ehm hello? It was so wet, juicy and perfect!!! I loved everything in it (it was also witty and funny!) ✨💯

⭐After Hours @yminie [5.3k] // jhs x f.reader // retail!au, workplace!au, manager!hoseok // 🥵

📝 it’s no secret your manager is very, very good looking. So what can be expected of you when you spend one too many nights locked up on your own with him?

🗨️ manager Hoseok? I would not be able to function at work 🥵 it was so hooooot ✨

⭐Stop Being so Cute @thatmultifandomhoe [3.4k] // jhs x f.reader // coffee shop!au, s2l // 🥰

📝 intentionally left blank by the author.

🗨️ this was so cute 🥹💖

⭐Gone Wild @johobi [6.5k] // jhs x f.reader // bf2l, fwb, roommate!au // 🥵

📝 Hoseok consumes porn like he does Cheetos: in unhealthily large amounts. He’s seen, and jacked off to, most things imaginable. But there are those photos that always draw him back… 

🗨️ fuck. Fuck. Fuck. It was so amazing ✨💯 The tension?? So high and hot! The smut? I don’t know where to begin?? 🥵

⭐Me & You @/jamaisjoons [6.5k]  // jhs x f.reader // bf2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 your relationship with your best friend has always been strange - especially since you started as friends with benefits. 

🗨️ this was so fucking hot I’m going KAVSVDBAKAVFK 🤧

⭐Fake Love @aquaminwrites [16.2k] // jhs x f.reader // fake dating!au, christmas!au, e2l // 🥵

📝 every year, your family spends the holidays at your parents’ cottage in the country. Freshly single and not wanting to be picked apart by your family for being alone, you decide to recruit one of your friends to pretend to be your boyfriend. The only available volunteer? Your brother Namjoon’s roommate, Hoseok. Only problem? He absolutely hates your guts. 

🗨️ I just love Christmas stories, and then you add a fake relationship, only one bed and enemies and brother’s best friend??? Hello. It was awesome, thank you very much ✨ I really loved it 💖 so, so good! 💯

⭐Potent Pink (series; discontinued) @dntaewithluv [6.9k]  // pjm x f.reader // neighbor!au, fuckboy!au // 🥰🌩️😂

📝 the first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

🗨️ it was so good! And I feel like I want to know so much more about why Jungkook doesn’t like Jimin, why he’s saying not to invite him into OC’s life. It was such a good prologue! 🥹 Sadly it hasn’t been updated, so I’ll make this as a discontinued series… But I still think it’s worth a read because both the writing and the story was so good 💜✨

⭐Mismatched Pages: pt1 and pt2 (series; discontinued) @knjoodles [1.2k + 4.2k]  // pjm x f.reader // university!au, writer!au // 🥰🌩️

📝 you love writing. it’s your passion, it’s what you dream to do forever. up until you find out the guy you really like also happens to be the guy who’s stealing your ideas. then it sucks.

���️ this was really cute 🥹 it hasn’t been updated after chapter two, so I assume that it’s discontinued. I really like the plot though!!! 💜

⭐Blooming Days @bluekyun [15.3k] // pjm x f.reader // university!au, bf2l, pregnancy!au // 🥰🌩️🥵😂

📝 a typical night for you begins at the library in your favorite chair underneath the lamp in the corner, only to be picked up at 3am by your best friend, Jimin. Despite having slept over in his room several times before, this certain night in Sigma house leads to far more than you ever imagined. But what is to come of your friendship once you reveal those two little lines that will change your lives forever?

🗨️ ahhhh this was so cute, lovely, fluffy and funny! It was also sprinkled with a bit of angst that made me tear up and scared for a moment 🥺 but the ending was happy 🥰 I really loved it 💖💯

⭐Tonight @pjmparadise [6.5k] // pjm x f.reader // idol!au, s2l // 🥰🌩️

📝 during a visit to New York, Jimin stops in front of a bar in passing and takes notice of you inside; lonely, gloomy, and so beautiful. He’s immediately drawn to you and can’t shake the image of you. He returns later that night, hoping he can still meet you. But will you feel the same way?

🗨️ this was cute 🥹 And for some reason, this felt very “who” coded 🥹 really fluffy but it’s a bit bittersweet, but hopeful ending! I really loved it 💖

⭐Never Falling + Forever Falling + Free Falling @yoonia [21k + 30.5k + 22k] // pjm x f.reader // e2l, singer!Jimin, non-idol!au, workplace!au, assistant!reader // 🌩️🥵

📝 for Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

🗨️ this has been on my trl for forever, and then, it was only a one-shot, so color me pleased and pleasantly surprised to find out that this is now a freaking trilogy 🤯✨ I loved everything in it, and it’s so fucking amazing— if you have not already read it, you are certainly missing out! This is definitely one of my all time favorites 💎

⭐Eldorado @smoochkooks [38k] // pjm x f.reader // gold diggers!au, e2l, slowburn, adventure!au // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 not all that glitters is gold but you, qualified gold digger, carrying on your back immense experience acquired all around the globe, came to the city of el paso del conte with one goal in your mind: to hit the jackpot of the eldorado of Texas. and nothing, no tragedies and adversities will stop you from pursuing it. but in every fairytale-like, too-good-to-be-true story, there’s a catch. this time, it comes in the name of park jimin, annoyingly handsome archeologist, your sworn enemy and biggest rival. 

🗨️ this has been on my trl list for some many fucking years 😭 well, I finally got to read it! And it was amazing, it was so fucking funny! Filled with witty banter, jokes and stereotypical jokes 😂 World building was so good too! And the smut? Fire 🥵 I really loved it 💖💯

⭐Backseat Serenade @jungkxook [10.7k]  // kth x f.reader // est. relationship, band!au, brother’s best friend, punk!Taehyung // 🥵

📝 falling in love and having weekly sex with kim taehyung is wrong for a number of reasons — and, no, that’s not including the whole other issue that he’s also your brother’s best friend

🗨️ This was so fucking amazing 🥵💜✨

⭐Any Way You Want It @noteguk [6.6k] // kth x f.reader // childhood bf to lovers // 🥵🥰

📝 in which your best friend, Taehyung, finds out about your unsatisfying sexual experiences and decides to put an end to that track record himself. 

🗨️ fuck this was so cute, and fuck the smut was so hot 🥵✨💯

⭐Supernova @whatifyoulivelikethat [n/a] // kth x f.reader // bf2l // 🥵😂

📝 Kim Taehyung is your best friend. Considering him as anything more was asking for a collapsed relationship. You two were just two points in the sky, side by side, always shining together. Stars aren’t meant to collide, right? 

🗨️ ØANFBGÆSB. Yep. Speechless. It was so hot! Amazing! And funny too ✨💜

⭐Rent-a-BoyfriendTM + drabble @jimlingss [12k] // kth x f.reader // s2l, fake dating!au // 😂🥰

📝 left intentionally blank by the author.

🗨️ fuck this was so freaking cute and fluffy with a small sprinkle of angst. Perfection 👏🏾 🥰💯

⭐The Assistant: pt1 and pt2 (series; completed) @lavienjin [3.8k]  // kth x f.reader // workplace!au, assistant!Taehyung, boss!reader // 🥵🌩️

📝 Kim Taehyung is your assistant and moonlights as a masseuse in the evening. When you came to the office the morning after a bad date, all you wanted is his hands all over your body.

🗨️ really liked this one ✨💜

⭐Lovestruck @seokstrivia [9k]  // kth x f.reader // jock!au, s2l, slowburn // 🥵🥰

📝 it was love at first sight, however, what you had imagined was very different from real life. In other words, Kim Taehyung didn’t know you existed.

🗨️ cute, cute, cute 🥰

⭐Chasing Cars (series; completed) @oddinary4bts [218.5k] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, forbidden love!au, college!au, slice of life!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

🗨️ the series are completed! I still need to read the last chapter, but it's so fucking good 💜 If you haven't read this one yet, you really should, and remember to read all the drabbles from JK's pov for each chapter ✨

⭐Bottle Up Old Love @wintaerbaer [4.6k] // jjk x f.reader // exes to lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

🗨️ aaaaaaah this was so good! The smut, the plot (JK is protective and I love it), I really loved everything about this ✨💯

⭐Hold Me Close + Hold Me Closer @ahundredtimesover [22.6k] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when Jimin hits a crisis, he enlists the help of his older sister - you - and his best friend, Jungkook, to put the pieces back again. That proves to be difficult when 1) Jimin’s a brat and a certified pain in the ass, and 2) Jungkook has grown and suddenly, you can’t keep your eyes off him.

🗨️ omg this was so fucking amazing 😭✨ The characters are amazing in this, there’s cute backstory, details and the sibling bond is top tier, and the chemistry between oc and Jungkook is so fucking good! The tension is perfect and I love the slow burn 🥰 I feel this was also a bit on the existential side, which I really love. Like the dialogue had me thinking about my own life! I love when that happens! And it was so fun reading about siblings, and I’m missing my own baby sister right now. Anyway, it was exceptionally good! Amazing! 💯 And there’s a mention of Jungkook’s glazed potato incident you can’t miss! It was so fun (both this and the run episode 😂). Can’t recommend this one enough!!

⭐Right Here @namluve [13k]  // jjk x f.reader // 90’s!au, high school!au, fwb to lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 you had always been a part of the plastics and he was born on the wrong side of town. what happens when your worlds collide, and you realize that he is the only one in your life that’s not fake? 

🗨️ omg this was so heartbreakingly sad 😭😭😭😭 It was beautiful, and I loved it, don’t get me wrong, but I’m so sad 😭 that ending 🤧

⭐(Un)welcomed Addition @shuadotcom [9k]  // jjk x f.reader // neighbors!au, fuckboy!au // 🌩️🥰

📝 after a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind…unless your feelings get in the way of course.

🗨️ it was funny and cute! I really liked it and there is a plot twist in there that I won’t spoil! ✨

⭐Jump Then Fall (Into You): pt1 + pt2 + pt3 (one-shot; completed) @writtenwhalien [52k] // jjk x f.reader // bf2l, cruise!au, fake dating!au // 🌩️🥰🥵

📝 bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?

🗨️ this story is so fucking good! I love everything in it, and the characters are so good and detailed (even the minor characters!!!). This is totally a new all time favorite of mine 🌟

⭐Dragonheart (ongoing series) @captain-joongz [22.1k+]  // ot7 x f.reader // dragon rider!au, high fantasy!au, e2l // 🥵🌩️🥰😂

📝 the Gong-li Empire has been on the peak of its power for a little over a millenium, and there was a very simple reason for that - dragonkind. When the first emperor of the Li Dynasty struck a deal with a witch that would allow him to bind dragons to the crown and force them into obedience, it was the beginning of its reign of terror and the end of freedom for creatures as old as nature itself. Now, a woman hoping to change everything enters the ranks of the elite dragon rider unit among the imperial army and meets seven men that not only change her life, but help her change the fate of the whole world.

🗨️ this is so fucking amazing; there’s a lot of lore to dig into, the characters are good and funny. The storytelling is so good too! I can’t wait to read more of this one ✨ If you love fantasy and dragons, I’m sure you’ll love this one 💜

⭐End of the World: a Flickering Hope + Drabble + Epilogue  [4k + 1.2k + 0.9k]  // myg x f.reader // s2l, apocalypse!au // 🥵🥰😂🌩️👻

📝 your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise? 

⭐Whalien52 [10.6k]  // pjm x f.reader // s2l, dystopian!au // 🌩️🥵👻

📝 you’ve been working for the New World Order as an assassin for years, guarding secrets without batting an eye or asking questions. But when a striking pink haired man shows up at the headquarters stealing information, he makes you question everything. With all of humanity at stake, what will you do? 

⭐When It Sinks In [13.1k]  // ksj x f.reader // est. relationship, mermaid!au, amnesia romance // 🥵🪄🥰🌩️

📝 life as a mermaid is wonderful, especially when your merman boyfriend, Seokjin, treats you just right. But you’re beginning to recall memories that you don’t think are yours from life on land— from a past life maybe? When you do realize that the memories are in fact your own, the world comes tumbling down around you, questioning your very existence. Are you even a real mermaid?

Thank you so much for reading my rec list, I hope you’ll reblog it to make it reach more people! There’s some insanely good reads on here ✨

If you want more, you’re more than welcome to follow me! I do monthly rec lists and sometimes I post my own writing too (only bangtan). 

Love you and borahae 💜

[monarchberrysblog]

𝔭𝔲𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔲𝔱

18+ Fireman! Miguel O’Hara x Chubby! Fem! Reader

Summary: After being hired into Station 29 and dealing with the fires in Nueva York, Miguel experiences soft and sweet love after saving someone from a burning building.

Trigger Warning ⚠️: Chubby! Female! Reader, soft fluff shit-- Miguel is 25, and the reader is 21 (a bit of an age gap). Mean? Dom! Miguel, words of affirmation, size difference got me like 😋. (OOC MIGUEL, JUST THROWING THAT OUT THERE)

Word Count: <1.0k words

Author’s Note: HEAR ME OUT PLS— This came to mind after chatting with a bot on character.ai. (original, I know) It makes me sad that the Miguel hype has been slowly dying down, but I will write about my husband until my obsession dies. (it's never going to die; please save me.) Also, if you see minors like this, please let me know 😗

Who knew that getting fucked into a mattress by the fireman who saved you from a burning building was the answer to all of life’s problems?

/

He slid his fingers out of you, then trailed said fingers up to your throat, soon lightly grasping onto your throat. The hold was firm but wasn't enough to choke anyone out. "You okay?" You glanced at him and could imagine the mess you left behind on his bedsheets. "…yeah." You gasped at him before you swallowed dryly and squirmed.

"Looks like you had some fires to put out." He chuckled, seeing the evident clear, slick against the silky bedsheets that were probably worth more than your weekly grocery shopping list. "I'm sorry." You whined to him. "No, no. It's okay, baby…" He gave your thigh a reassuring pat with his free hand. After patting your thigh, he moved his hand away from your throat and grasped onto the fat of your thigh. "Spread open for me…"

The sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants is enough to make your mouth salivate in instinct by simply hearing the metal of his belt clink. “Every time I jerk off,” He pauses momentarily, but he continues when you feel a bulbous tip lightly tap at your fluttering entrance. “I think about how you taste, and I never last.”

A barely audible moan escapes from you, arching your back against the mattress. “Shh, shh, it's okay.” Miguel slowly pushes himself into you, taking the time to savor your wet, moist, gummy walls. “My god, you're so tight. Take deep breaths for me, okay?” The stretch of his girth is enough to drive anyone wild. With a shaky breath, you nodded, laid back on the bed, and relaxed. An audible groan from the back of your throat before it became a guttural groan deep from you diaphragm. “I know it hurts, I know…” He cooed to you.

It took all of his willpower not to hump you like an animal in heat. Instead, he allowed his tip to stay in your entrance. He brought his lips to your ear, whispering sweet nothings while you felt yourself getting stuffed more than a turkey on a Thanksgiving dinner. You propped yourself up on your elbows, just to see the sight below you. “You like to see? How dirty.”

He patted your fupa lovingly before he pushed down on the soft tummy. You took in deep breaths, trying to get him to fit in. “There we go. Can you see how you're taking my cock? You're taking it well…” The sound of a small queef filled the space, interrupting Miguel, causing you to hide your face with a nearby pillow, embarrassed of the noise. “It's okay, neña. It's cute.” You slowly peeked from the pillow, and you could see Miguel fighting demons in his soul to not laugh at the flatulent noise when he sunk himself in. “It's not funny, Miguel.” You huffed, feeling embarrassed. “No, it's not,” At this point, if Miguel dared to look at you, he would have started to laugh, but he didn't.

/

A groan escaped, feeling the sweet, delicious burn his girth offered. “Good girl,” He groaned before he got a hold of your hand. Miguel uses his free hand to move his hand from your fupa to grab onto the bed's headboard. “Look at you, eagerly moving down already. Don't overwhelm yourself, sweetheart.” He lightly quipped before a sharp inhale between his teeth broke his words. “Slow down there, baby…” You squirmed your hips down, and the delicious burn subsided to pleasure as a loud moan escaped from you, and Miguel let out a loud groan. “Ay, I told you to slow down, baby…” Ignoring Miguel’s wishes, you continued to sink into his length, enjoying how the vein on his length brushed against your puffy clit so slowly and deliciously.

“Ya te dije,” He shoved his entire length into you, nearly slamming you against the headboard. A loud whine filled his apartment, feeling his red, angry, bulbous tip kiss at your cervix. “Ya te dije, más lento.” The man firmly demanded. “It's what I want, not what you want.”

A few shaky breaths, along with a couple of forehead kisses, had you settled down on his length and wanted to continue. A whine escaped from you while you squirmed underneath him. Your pleading wasn't contributing to the situation well. “Please…” You pleaded. “Give me a minute…” Miguel strained out, slowly moving out and pushing himself back in. “Give me a minute, baby…” It was a chore for Miguel to be dominant when you made him fold in half like a lawn chair by seeing you slowly inching down on his length with such zealous energy.

The sight of the fireman who saved you from a burning building and is significantly taller than you got weak in the knees by being knees deep in your cooch. After a couple of moments and of you fluttering against his length, he slowly sunk inside of you and started to grind his tip against your cervix. A white ring began to form attached to the base of his cock, meaning that your juices and his precum have mixed and are already dripping off his length and onto the bed sheets underneath the two of you. The grinding soon turned into him thrusting his length entirely at a steady, slow pace.

His hands moved away from the headboard and gasp onto the back of your thighs. “I'm going to push your legs back a bit. Is that okay?” He groaned, keeping his pace the same. “Yeah…” You moaned out, feeling his push down be pinned down to the bed, not allowing you to see how he was moving. You tried your best to see him moving inside of you but gave up after you couldn't. “You wanted to keep seeing? Qué cochina.”

“I'll give you a sight to see…”

If you saw any errors, no, you didn't. This is the first smut I've written in a while 😭

[pseudowho]

The JJK Crew as Firemen

Okay lads and gentlebugs, it's damsel time! This is how they meet you, rescue you, and fall in love...all in their fully uniformed line of duty.

Starring: Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Ino, Megumi, Yuuji, Higuruma, Sukuna and Toji

Warnings: Building fires, road traffic collisions, suicide attempts, injuries, earthquakes, floods, wildfires, near-drowning, Ferris wheels, highly irresponsible use of fire-trucks

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Gojo

Satoru had agreed to take an extra shift, with the threat of bad weather, and he regretted it-- this storm was biblical. The skies were so black and pregnant with rain, it may as well have been night. The billowing rains slapped and stung Satoru's cheeks. Drivers were blinded, their wipers failing to clear their windscreens even at maximum speed. People stumbled, buffeted into the roads by violent winds. And Satoru's sense of humour could only get him so far when members of the public made increasingly irrational decisions, and placed themselves in danger.

But not you, he thought, as he stepped into the wild torrents of overflowing river water, to the dismayed shouts of his colleagues, you absolutely don't deserve to die like this.

Trying to head home, kept cruelly late by a manager who didn't care how far you had to travel, you had missed your bus, and had to take a dangerous detour over a little river bridge, public transport services all abruptly cancelled. One violent sweep of wind was all it took to rock you over the little fence, and you clung desperately to weeds on the riverbank, soaked, shivering, gulping at murky, frigid, terrifyingly climbing waves.

"I'm coming," shouted the fireman, white-haired, tall, throwing off his heavy uniform jacket, with no regard for his own safety, "just hold on, I'll get you out, I promise--" Satoru sloshed and slipped, his t-shirt muddy and plastered to his chest as he slid down the riverbank. He allowed his colleagues to hurriedly harness him. Hitting the water, his abs clenched painfully with the cold, and he began to wade towards you.

You cried out, feeling your grip on life be washed away as the riverbed crumbled, releasing the weeds you clung to. As the river grasped you, your hands flung desperately out, holding your breath, praying, praying--

An enormous hand gripped your own, and a long forearm drew you close with one almighty heave. Satoru dug his fingers deep into the river wall, feeling the jarring rub of stones embedded in smooth wet squelch.

"Don't let go, just hold onto me--" Satoru reached under the water, gripping your thighs and making you grasp them around his hips. You flung your arms round his neck, your face in his chest, and he held you like this, stepping back against the onslaught of the river as his colleagues reeled you both in.

Still carrying you, his arms locked under your bum, Satoru staggered up the riverbank, drenched, chest heaving you up and down against him. You glanced up at him meekly, trembling and cold. Satoru sighed, grinning down at you.

"Come on then. Tell me your name, 'cos we're gonna have to get undressed for me to warm you up."

Nanami

A wave of heat slapped across Kento's face, and he pulled equipment to his body in a practiced rush. A smash and a roar burst from the inferno in front of him, as a window exploded, blackened glass spraying through the air. The apartment block was being gutted as he watched.

"Sir! Sir!"

"What is it, Ino?"

"Evacuation incomplete, sir. There's someone left on the second floor."

Kento pulled his mask down, eyes shooting up to an opened window, a white sheet hanging out of it, flapping as the heat rose from below. Crews around him shouted to be heard over the roar of flame, with cannons shooting water, attempting to quell the fire from the lower floors. Crowds of pyjama'd residents were herded away, confused and bleary-eyed as flames ate their homes.

"Is the left stairwell clear, Ino?" Takuma faltered as Kento stamped his boots into place, yanking on his gloves.

"For-- for now-- you can't be serious sir--" Kento huffed inside his mask, clapping Ino on the shoulder, Ino buckling slightly at the strength behind it.

"I'm always serious, Ino."

Without another word, Kento stepped towards the building, sweating in his suit as he moved into a stairwell, belching smoke. His senses were dulled, his vision boxed-in, hearing his own panting breaths in the fishtank of his helmet. Taking the stairs two at a time, he hesitated and turned at the top; Kento looked down the stairs, feeling heat scorch up towards him, the fire spreading rapidly, closing off his exit.

Out of time, he thought. Approaching a corridor, its doorway jammed, swollen and warped, Kento lifted a foot and kicked it effortlessly through with a roar, the door splintering and buckling under his boot.

"Are you here? Shout for me," Kento bellowed into the corridor. His ears pricked at the shouts and coughs from the end of the corridor. Building into as much of a run as his equipment would allow, he reached another door, its paint raised and wrinkled by the heat.

Kento stepped back, turning sideways as he rammed the door with his shoulder, once, twice, three times, and barrelled through as it splintered under his weight.

Spinning his head, he saw you, crouched on the floor beneath your window, terrified and relieved in your pyjamas. Kento stepped to you, kneeling, his gloved hands moving over your body, checking you for injury. You stared into him, unable to stop yourself from grabbing his forearms, hands shaking and cold despite the blazing heat churning through the floor.

"I thought-- I thought I was going to die here," you gasped, trembling. Kento's heart creaked, and he was surprised, shaking it off-- do your job, Kento, he chastised himself.

"At least if we die here, we won't die alone. Can you stand?" You nodded, rising on shaking legs, and immediately dropped down, your eyes stinging and burning from the smoke billowing across the ceiling, pouring in from the corridor.

Kento's heart dropped to his stomach as the floor shook- an almighty crash down the corridor signified its collapse. Keeping you close with one arm round your waist, Kento leaned out of your window. With a grateful lurch, he could see his colleagues ready with the parachute canopy, waving, calling, beckoning him down.

Kento pulled you close, your back against his chest, both arms wrapped in an arresting grip around your belly and chest-- "Do you trust me?" His heart skipped again as you turned your head, gazing into him through his visor, nodding.

Kento sat backwards on the window ledge, forcing you to sit on his lap. He tried to bracket you with his arms and legs, giving a satisfied grunt as you pressed yourself hard against him.

"On three," he toned, low and heady in your ear, "...one." You squealed and squeezed his arm as he dropped backwards, both of you gripped by gravity and hauled earthwards. Kento grunted as you landed in the parachute, shielding you from impact.

The weightlessness continued as the parachute was carried from the building and placed gently on the ground. Shouts and cheers and roaring flames rang into the night, and heavy gloved hands clapped on Kento's arms and shoulders, from which you had not been released. You trembled in his lap, feeling his chest heave against your back.

When Kento broke out of his reverie, he caught your eyes staring up at him, soft and grateful, trying to see him through his helmet.

"My hero," you whispered, just quiet enough for him to hear. Kento's heart stuttered. He lifted one gloved hand and removed his helmet, blond hair messy, a fine sheen of sweat across his cheeks, his brown eyes flickering amber in the firelight. You bit your lip, drinking him in. He still had not let you go.

Geto

The whispering crowd was infected; the morbid curiosity of a thronging mass, negated the base empathy of its participants, and replaced it with a spectacle-hungry monster.

Suguru felt the grumbling rubber-neckers by the bridge be reluctantly pushed back by police officers. The first out of his fire truck, Suguru pushed through, sleek as a fish swimming upstream, and ducked under the police officers' arms, unhindered due to uniform privilege. He picked up pace as he approached the stairs, his heart in his mouth.

And, on the railings of the bridge, stood you; you trembled, so exposed and vulnerable. Nothing could make this better. Nothing could ease this naked agony. Nothing in death could be more painful than the burden of life. Nothing could possibly eke you back from the edge of this--

"Hey. I'm Suguru. I'm sorry this is happening to you."

His voice pierced your reverie, and the world slowed around you both. The passage of leaves on the wind stilled. The collective voice hushed. The railings gripped you tightly by the hands.

"And it's not going to be easy. Coming back from this. Getting better."

Your lips puckered upwards and you hiccuped, your sobs wet, your nose dripping. As you shook, one foot slipped off the edge of the bridge and the crowd shrieked as you partially dropped, the collective voice now drowning you, leaves twirling on a whirlwind, railings forsaking you--

You felt two strong arms grip around your waist. Scrabbling against them with stress-bitten nails, your foot tried to gain purchase again. Your weak little heart caved at the effort required and you teetered, weeping and floppy, half-on and half-off the bridge.

"I can let go of you. If you need me to. I understand. But...I don't think you do want me to."

Embraced like this, you felt warm. It was much easier leaping from the cold air than from warm arms, which had given you permission both to die, and to live. Your heart creaked, the choice suddenly made easy.

"Pull me up," you sobbed as you felt the arms tighten around you, "pull me up pull me up pull me u--"

You fell with a thud against the warm voice, and grasped onto it, curled into its lap, sobbing your heart out, the crowd beneath you sounding both relieved and disappointed. The warm voice soothed you, rocked you, stroked your hair.

You found yourself, in a few slow blinks, sat in the back of an ambulance, hands trembling around a hot drink, wrapped in a silver foil blanket. You stared blankly, numb, into the rising steam. A few short taps came from the ambulance door.

You looked up to see a beautiful man who you didn't recognise, handsome, slanted eyes glimmering, his long black hair pulled up into a bun. Your heart skipped a beat as you recognised to whom the warm voice belonged.

"You should be proud of yourself. It's not easy accepting help. Can I sit with you?"

Ino

The road was carnage, with debris scattered across tarmac, the remnants of one car smouldering weakly in dying flames, and the cries and sobs of a bloodied man being carried away on a stretcher. Still, the queue of traffic behind beeped and cussed, so outrageously inconvenienced.

Your car was crushed around you, the splitting pain in your leg made so much worse by the anxious claustrophobia of these crumpled walls, and not knowing how injured you really were. The sickening speed of the crashrolltumblecrash that had trapped you here, replayed in your mind on repeat. You felt panic claw up your throat, tasting your own blood as it dripped down your cheek and into your mouth.

"Wow, girl! You really didn't like this car, huh?"

The ridiculous flippancy of the statement was so incongruous, you laughed. Sniffling and trembling, you looked sideways through broken glass. A young man, his face friendly and open, squashed in his helmet, stared back at you, a sympathetic smile in his eyes.

"My name's Takuma. I'm here to get you out of this car, me and my friends. You look like you could use some help." Your lips pinched and you moved to nod, but Takuma's hands darted out, his fingertips to your cheeks and temples, holding your head.

"No. Don't. Your neck could be injured. Just...still as you can, okay? Good girl."

Takuma reached into a pocket, pulling out earplugs and putting them in for you, gingerly pulling a pair of goggles over your eyes. He removed them again briefly, gently swiping his thumb over a drip of blood about to run into your eye, wiping it on his trousers, replacing the goggles.

Takuma and his crew made short work of cutting through the pillars of your wrecked car, lifting the roof and doors off as if they were made of cardboard. After paramedics confirmed the integrity of your spine, hips and legs, Takuma managed to kneel beside your seat, working to release your trapped leg.

Fearful, your hand reached out, lying on Takuma's shoulders, gripping the back of his collar. Wordlessly, and without looking back, Takuma shook off one glove as his other hand worked, and reached up to hold your hand in his, rested together on his shoulder. You felt a curious tranquility run through you at his effortless kindness.

Your foot released, with a rush of pain as blood throbbed in your toes. You felt a twinge of disappointment as Takuma stepped back, allowing himself to be replaced by the concerned hands of medics.

"Not every day you get to be rescued by someone so handsome, huh?" Takuma laughed, framing his jaw faux-smugly between his thumb and forefinger. You smiled up at him, cute and appreciative in a way that made his belly clench.

"No. It's not every day I get to be rescued by someone so handsome."

You did not realise heroes could blush so sweetly.

Megumi

"Here. C'mon boy-- over here. You-- over there. Good boys."

Megumi expertly directed his dogs, one black and one white, against the threat of night-time's approach. News crews inconvenienced him, and he scowled, traversing rubble and wires as shouting rescuers tried desperately to set up floodlights. A chill bit through the air.

"...tonight, as a 7.8 magnitude earthquake rocked the city. The search for survivors continues as..."

Megumi raised his head to the tune of three short barks from his dog, and he jogged to the corner of a collapsed school, feeling his heart drop to his stomach. His black dog pointed keenly to a crushingly large pile of rubble, no building left for lessons and lunchtimes. Megumi reached into his pocket, offering his dog a treat, scratching its ears and head to the tune of a proud wagging tail.

"Good boy, good boy. Wait here for me." Megumi headed to the rubble, keen eyes scouring, ears astute and listening. He found an opening, the remnants of a collapsed doorway. He heard shuffles, coughs. He shoved some loose brickwork aside, and you felt rays of evening sunlight pierce what you thought was to be your grave.

"Can you hear me?" shouted Megumi, and you clung to his voice from your little coffin. Your eyes pricked with tears as the shadow of a young man blocked the rays of light, and he raised a torch, creating a beam of light, illuminating yourselves to each other.

"You got under a table?" Megumi asked, impressed, appreciative, "That saved your life. Good job."

You smiled wetly, your cut hands clotted with brick dust, and you moved to come out from under the table towards him. A perilously leaning wall teetered above you as you emerged, and you felt a shadow begin to drop over you.

With a scream, and Megumi's harsh shout, you braced for impact...and felt none. Your body felt suddenly warm, pleasantly cushioned. Opening your eyes you felt the young man lying full-length across you, his forearms braced on the floor, impossibly strong as he shielded you from the collapsed brickwork. You gasped, still and shocked, as he planked against you.

"Get yourself out. Now," he grunted. You nodded, slithering out from underneath him, leaving bloodied handprints on the brickwork as you clambered out to safety. A rough groan behind you signified Megumi somehow shaking most of a wall off his back, and crawling out to meet you.

Again, impossibly, you were the one who swayed on your feet, and Megumi reached his hands out to steady you. Two eager dogs sniffed around you both, and Megumi's frown deepened with a pretty pink blush as you gazed into him with unabashed admiration.

"Get yourself to the medics," Megumi grumbled, rubbing brick dust out of his spiky hair, "they'll help you from he--"

"I will. If you give me your number."

"You-- you are out of your mind."

Yuuji

Yuuji lowered his visor, and regretted it immediately as the rain slapped against it. Reluctantly, he raised it, feeling instant cool trickles from fringe to eyebrows. Blinking water away, he crowded amongst his colleagues, all fresh fire-service arrivals to provide relief and rescue from this flooded valley town.

Twisting round, flicking muddy splatters, Yuuji's ears pricked as his Captain, Nanami Kento, barked orders.

"Ino, Maki-- provide aid and rescue for the eastern quarter. Kugisaki, to the west. Itadori--"

Nanami hesitated at Yuuji, who would have been wagging his tail if he had one. On a hitched breath, Nanami continued.

"Itadori, survey the northern lane's integrity before we move towards evacuation. Do not," Nanami warned, slanted eyes narrow through his visor, "do anything dangerous."

Yuuji appeared thoughtful; "And by dangerous, you mean...?"

"Itadori."

"Got it sir. Nothing dangerous," Yuuji offered with a wink and a salute. Nanami stared after him with silent despair as Yuuji jogged, splashing down the waterlogged lane.

Yuuji hummed to himself, his voice breaking and springing as he jogged, blowing rivulets of water away from his lips, slipping through the mud road between lanes, hedges, trees, descending down a winding hill. He heard the hushed roar of torrents of water, and rounded the corner curiously.

The river had burst its banks, submerging a hidden dip in the road. The water sloshed, murky with sediment, lapping at an enormous felled tree, underneath which--

"Shit...shit!" Yuuji cussed, seeing a small car, almost completely submerged, partially crushed under the weight of the tree. Yuuuji sprinted, feet slapping and skidding in the wet slop of the road. Inside the car, splashes, and a desperate wet voice.

"Oh fuck--hang on, just hang on, I'll get you out." Yuuji sloshed into the flood, chest deep, keeping his footing as the undercurrent threatened to sweep him away. Leaping over felled creaking branches, rattling in the wind, Yuuji met a pair of small pale hands at the window of the car. He pressed his broad palms flat against the glass, your last remaining barrier to complete submersion.

Tear-stained, awaiting death, you stared out at him, hyperventilating, gasping, "I don't want to die here-- not like this-- I can't get out--" Yuuji took a step back, eyes wide and fearful, brimming with doubt. You saw this in him, and your lips puckered, sobbing, snotty and cold.

"I know," you reassured him as you shook, "there's nothing you can do...the tree-- you can't move it in time. I can't-- I can't--"

"I can."

You stopped, palms flat against the glass, sweet eyes boring into Yuuji, and he was possessed by malcontent.

"I can," he insisted, throwing his yellow jacket and helmet off to sink away into the muddy depths. His black t-shirt clung to his form. Even young and drenched, he looked...powerful. Still, you shook your head, slowly at first until you filled with certainty.

"You can't," you insisted, assuaging him from guilt, "you're not strong eno--"

"No, I'm strong. I'm really strong. Not smart, but--" Yuuji pulled his gloves up, taking a staggered stance with his palms flat under the tree. He turned sideways, eyes wide and innocent as he grinned.

Teeth gritting, Yuuji roared as he heaved the tree trunk. His arms shook, wet biceps bulging against his sleeves as he heaved and bellowed. As you opened your mouth to insist he stop, the words caught in your throat-- somehow, in a masterclass feat of strength, you saw the tree trunk begin to lift off the roof of the car, taking pressure off the frames and doors.

"Oh my god," you squeaked, voice strangled in amazement, "keep going, you're doing it, good boy good boy good boy--"

With one final wild exertion, Yuuji shunted the tree, and it rolled with a thick splash down the bonnet. Wading towards the car, Yuuji gripped the door handle, ready to pull against the stunning mass of water.

"When I open this, the car's gonna fill up," he pondered aloud, "so..."

"I'll reach out for you," you nodded, gasping, the water up to your chin. Yuuji's lips curled appreciatively, and he maintained eye contact as he counted down.

"Three, two, one...go!" Yuuji grunted, heaving the door open, filled with terror as your face disappeared in a rush of brown. Shoving his thick thigh into the gap, he reached in, begging, praying--

-- Yuuji felt two cold hands grip his forearms, and he gripped in return, heaving you through the torrent into his arms.

In mutual relief, chests heaving against each other, you coughed and spluttered in Yuuji's arms, fingers sinking into his hair, planting wet kisses of thanks to his cheeks.

"You saved my life," you pressed, voice breaking, "How am I ever...how can I ever...?"

"You can...just call me 'good boy' again? Just once more?"

Higuruma

"Shit-- it's spread so fucking fast--"

Higuruma Hiromi wasn't sure if the crushing, oppressive heat was coming from the sun, the scorched earth beneath his feet, or the wall of flames devastating the dry summer forest before him.

Eyes wide and appalled, his frown wrinkled his hooked nose, drips of sweat trickling through spiky black hair and onto the thirsty earth. His black t-shirt was claustrophobically tight against prickling skin, and he ran two hands down his chest before pulling on his yellow jacket and helmet.

With a sharp intake of breath, he began to boom orders to his scurrying team; "you know what to do-- restrict the spread, we have to stop this encroaching on the--"

"Sir, please! Please, listen, there's someone in there--"

Hiromi's head snapped round, hawkish black eyes like beetles in the firelight, and landed on a park ranger, fighting to be heard over the roar of flame and barrier-arms of police officers. Hiromi stomped over to him, one harsh finger pointed in the officers' face to prevent his interruption before he could start.

"You say there's someone in there? In the forest? Be clear," Hiromi commanded. The park ranger gulped.

"One of the other rangers, she-- she's trying to save some of the bird-boxes-- endangered species--"

Hiromi laughed, humourless, as he rubbed his face, gazing to the heavens, between two long-fingered hands.

"Endangered species-- she's a fucking endangered species, at this rate--" Hiromi laughed again, breathing in through his mouth, and out with a sandy groan and a decision.

"Begin at the edges," he commanded to his team, jogging towards a break in the trees, "I'll be back, if I'm lucky." Hearing the frantic shouts of his team beckoning him back, Hiromi's boots stamped over the embering earth, all noise fading and replaced by hellish heat and the lick of devil's tongues.

Hiromi panted, chest heaving as it gulped in heavy air and ashes, embering leaves wisping to the floor around him. Spotting a sign, its information barely legible as the paint wrinkled up from the surface, he sprinted onwards through the inferno, leaping over logs, skidding through wafer-dry foliage, the flames in the branches above him creating the burnt-umber sunset of a hellscape.

Approaching a circular fence, the bird sanctuary was engulfed, and inexplicably, a woman halfway up a tall wooden ladder was detaching a bird-box from the side of a tree. Hiromi skidded to a halt, incredulous, snorting in derision.

Your skin felt as dry as tanned leather on your cheeks as you tucked the bird-box under your arm and began to step down the ladder. Just one more, you thought, I can get just one mo--

"I don't like to interrupt someone passionate about their job, but are you quite finished?"

You jumped, clasping the bird-box to your chest as Hiromi loomed over you, his anger rising so much taller than he was. You swallowed, tongue like sandpaper, answering honestly.

"I'm not, actually, I've got one more to--"

Hiromi's gloved hands had cupped around the birdbox, gently plucking it out of your hands and into his. You squealed indignantly as he ducked, throwing you over his shoulder with one arm, grunting as you wriggled and kicked.

"Do as you're told," Hiromi chastised as you thumped at his back with your fists, crying out, sobbing as he carried you away, "I appreciate your diligence but--"

"No, please-- just listen--" you sobbed, reaching back as he carried you and the single bird-box away, "--the eggs-- the last breeding pair--"

Hiromi stopped despite himself, feeling the flames ringing closer around him. He tapped his foot, furious, considerate. Placing you down with a huff, he walked back to the ladder. As he picked it up, he shot you a hot-eyed look of sarcastic inquisition. Lips puckering mulishly, you pointed to the tree beside him.

Wordlessly, his body language dramatically muted, Hiromi placed the ladder and took it two rungs at a time. Removing the birdbox, gripping it in one fist, Hiromi slid down the sides of the ladder and stamped back to you, pressing the bird-box into your arms beside the other.

As your eyes melted at him in a soft little smile, embracing your bird-boxes, Hiromi blushed, glaring at you without venom. He ducked down in front of you slightly, not breaking eye-contact. Your head tilted owlishly, and Hiromi felt his belly twist in odd delight.

"What are you--" the air was thumped out of you as Hiromi hefted you over his shoulder again, and he huffed out a laugh as you swore at him. You clung to your bird-boxes as he ran through the flames, gasping and squeaking as he leapt over, under, through...

Hiromi burst out of the forest and into the open, cooled instantly by the wind-carried cool spray of a dozen hoses. Hiromi dropped you down, and you fell to your knees beside each other, panting, feeling the water drizzle down your bodies.

"So," Hiromi gasped, throwing off his jacket and t-shirt, groaning at the cool water dripping down his chest, "tell me about your birds."

You pressed your forehead to his bare-chest, breath grazing across it as you laughed, sending shivers down Hiromi's spine. Resting your cheek on him, looking up with lovestruck, appreciative eyes, Hiromi wondered faintly that he could listen to you tell him about birds all night.

Sukuna

This was the worst day of your life. You had made a horrible error of judgement, and you prayed to the god who had forsaken you, steeping in the consequences of your own actions. You would live the rest of your days in terror, stomach cold and gripped and roiling with fear, never happy again--

To the amused intrigue of onlookers, you were enjoying an extra-long ride at the top of a colourful Ferris Wheel. But you were afraid of heights, and had chosen a beautiful summers' day to challenge yourself. And then the Ferris Wheel got stuck. And now you were going to die up here.

You slid off the seat and onto the floor, and sobbed as your little carriage rocked in the wind. The Ferris Wheel creaked, and you felt a cold terrified sweat drop down your chest, your hands flinging out to clutch the seats. Head tipped back and eyes closed, you felt panic settling in--

"Oi. Woman. Do you want this, or not?"

You shrieked at the suddenly-appearing pink-haired man clung to the outer bars of your carriage, his face nothing short of bored and pissed off as he held a bottle of water out to you.

"What the fuck-- are you doing up here-- did you climb here?"

Sukuna snorted at you, eyes narrowed and cruel as he took you in, all sweat and tears and skirt tucked all the way up to your hips.

"Look at you, what a fucking mess," he cooed to your furious blushes, eyes brimming with tears again, "you're normally my type, but--"

"Are you just here to make fun of me?" You hiccuped, snatching the bottle of water out of his hand, unscrewing the cap as Sukuna laughed at you. With a wicked glint in his eye, Sukuna jumped his feet against the bars, rocking it, and you shrieked, clinging to the seats and sloshing water over your thighs as he laughed harder.

"Oh baby," he mocked, "you scared of heights? Want me to hold your hand?" He lifted his feet to rock the carriage again, but stopped, frowning as you answered.

"Yes," you hiccuped, "please. Hold my hand." As your little hand slid up the wall of the carriage towards his gripped around the bars, Sukuna snorted, turning his face away from you.

"It's hot," he stated, blunt, "I was told to bring you water. I've done my job. I'm not gonna hold your--"

"Please." His stomach flipped, cock twitching involuntarily inside his uniform as you begged. Sukuna snorted again, ignoring you. As you started to sniffle, weeping, your hand slid down away from his. A heartbeat passed, and you felt a strong, warm hand reach in, fingers plaiting through yours.

"You're pathetic," he mocked, still staring out across the sea, his voice a little softer now, "what the hell are you doing in a Ferris Wheel if you're afraid of heights?"

"I wanted...I wanted to see if I could--"

"Idiot. Now you're stuck here," he snapped, almost sounding concerned, his heart fluttering in a way that made his neck prickle as you rested your tear-dampened cheek against his hand in yours.

You and Sukuna stayed this way, your cheek against your fingers plaited in his. The carriage became gradually bathed in a warm pink sunset, lighting up the coral of his hair. The sway was gentle, a little boat on lilting tide.

Finally, a short jolt rumbled the carriage to life, and it began to trail in a circle back towards the ground.

Just before your carriage ground to a halt, Sukuna spoke, slow and mischievous.

"Hey. Woman."

"What?" you answered, unaware of your skirt hitched up around your waist.

"Cute little panties you've got there."

The shrieks of rage and cackling laughter could be heard all the way down to the beach.

Toji

"You've called-- you've called him in? Are you out of your mind?" Satoru gaped at Nanami, his fellow Captain, gobsmacked as Nanami pursed his lips in irritation.

The fire-truck was parked to the side of the main road; all cars were halted, abandoned, swarmed by rioters in scarves and balaclavas, hundreds upon hundreds of them, a swirling mass of destruction in the streetlights. Riot police vainly attempted to form a blockade, stumbling as bodies slipped past them, shop windows smashing, flaming bottles tossed.

"We need the bodies," Nanami pressed, stripping his t-shirt off, thick muscular arms reaching into the truck to find a clean one, "how often do the riot police call us in for support? Besides, he looks...intimidating. He may serve as a...deterrent."

Satoru snorted derisively, "He was fired for a reason, Nanami, mark my--"

"Hey, kid, long time no see."

Satoru stiffened as a shadow loomed over him, one heavy hand clapping down on his shoulder. Toji smirked, his scar twisted, raising his boot to put out his cigarette on the sole. He stamped his boots into place, his yellow rubber trousers tatty and worn, jacketless and terrifyingly ripped in a tight black t-shirt.

"So..." Toji continued, staring into the chaos ahead of him, "support the cops, yeah?" He sucked his teeth, rolling his shoulders. Nanami nodded, brisk, shoving a helmet towards Toji, grimacing as it was immediately rejected. Nanami shrugged, not wishing to waste time arguing, and directed the firemen towards the crowd to encourage some form of calm.

Toji stayed back, choosing where to go. At a glance, he saw a young woman duck down behind a car, arm raised to toss an egg at the back of a police officer's head. You caught Toji's eye, a bandana pulled up covering your lower face, and he laughed under his breath as your eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Little minx," he muttered, admiring the quiet subversion. Laughing out loud as you tossed the egg, landing a direct hit, Toji moved on, stepping towards a shop, his passive presence alone enough to scatter the looters inside.

The pressure from the crowd built, peaking, and Toji felt the mood in the air change from rave gone overboard to aggression and spite.

Seeing the crowd pulse and surge, Toji spotted you in the front, crushed, buffeted against the officers' riot shields. You caught his eye again, now desperate and pained, instead of playful. Toji felt himself clench, stepping in behind two of the riot officers, who barely had time to glance at him between wild shouts at the crowd.

Easily, with two strong hands, Toji parted the shields just enough for you to drop through, and he caught you, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. As you stared up at him, speechless and waiting to be arrested, he looked down at you, the glimmer in his eyes threatening shenanigans.

"I don't know about you," he drawled, low and slow, "but these clowns couldn't break a nail, let alone a crowd." You laughed, tinkling and sweet, and Toji felt a burst of ego for having caused it.

"Ever been in a fire truck, sweetheart?"

Moments later, the fire truck rumbled to life, its sirens ringing and flashing in warning. The pressure of the crowd eased for a moment, hundreds of enquiring eyes on you and Toji in the front seats, one of his hands resting across your belly, protective, shielding you in place.

The enquiring eyes turned fearful as the fire truck reversed, then slowly swung to face the crowd and riot officers alike, revving.

With a smirk, Toji allowed the truck to jolt forwards. The crowd cried out collectively, its stance breaking, dozens of people scattering to escape the scene. Revving again, the truck jolted forwards once more, harder this time. Half the crowd stumbled, falling over themselves to run. With one final booming rev, the crowd shrieked and shouted, scattering like spiders up and down the length of the street, no act of protest apparently worth getting run over for.

And as you and Toji were pulled, laughing, from the fire-truck, both being slammed and cuffed against the nearest police car, your eyes met, and your bandana slipped down to reveal your lovely grin.

Toji smirked, heads on the car facing each other. Shooting you a wink which made you giggle and blush, he snorted to think that maybe he was just the right dismissed ex-fireman to get the job done.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Wheeeee, rescue me fire daddies 🚒🔥

[decaffeinated-heads]

Mm2pilled

[i-mean-y-not]

Pretty

One would suspect that Eren was a gentleman. With his calm demeanor and almost frightening jade eyes. He seemed almost shy when he asked you out. There was a tinge on his cheeks that reminded you of a pink peony.

The façade was upheld when he picked up in his Audi coupe. You went to an arcade and you should’ve known then. The way his arm flexed when he threw that skeeball spelled out danger. And when he walked you to your door and asked to come inside, that should’ve raised red flags.

Six months have flown by and he’s been stuck on you ever since. He still is calm as ever however, now you noticed a little things.

The small smile that’s reserved just for you. The way two of his body parts have to touch you at all times. There is the way that if you’re separated a second longer than 24 hours that he has to fall asleep on the phone with you.

Then, there’s way he has sex. Being on the thicker side of the clothing rack hadn’t always been easy. Struggling to find something cute, comfortable, and in your size was a trifecta you could never achieve. But today’s a good day.

Today, you checked all of your boxes. With a black baby doll skirt, that comes slightly past the knees and a checkered shirt that pairs perfectly with your, simple flats. Today you feel good and if the way Eren looks at you all the way to his passenger door says anything, he’d agree.

You sit in the front seat and rub your gloss lips together nervously as you move to buckle your seatbelt.

“Look good, mama,” he grumbles. And that lackadaisical smile doesn’t show an ounce of what brews beneath the surface. You relax into your seat, headed to a party that Eren volunteered you two for.

The night tarries in a blur of tequila and heat in the middle of a Texas July. And your Eren, is always there. Even if it isn’t physically, while he sits and jokes with Connie and Ony, his gaze never leaves you.

And it doesn’t really register. The long, hard glances. The tilting of the head when your body sways to the beat. The slight squinting of his eyes as he smirks after doing at least five once overs. It does register, however, when he gets back into his car.

His veiny hands and long fingers work their way up and splay themselves on your kneecap. A small whine escapes your throat and you’d think he hadn’t heard it at all, save for the small quirk of his mouth.

He’s a man less about all and all about action. So it doesn’t surprise you when the door to your shared apartment closes and your fireman carried to your room. It doesn’t surprise you when he doesn’t even take off your panties, instead choosing to eat you through them. It does surprise you, though, that he makes no move to do anything else.

You move to sit up. “Eren?.”

He groans, a low guttural sound that has you shrinking back slightly. You shake your head softly. “What about you?”

“I just wanna admire my girl. Fuckin’ gorgeous.” And with that he pushes you back and your knees are by your ears. You didn’t even know you could bend that far. And when you come down, legs shivering and mouth drooling, he stares like you like you hung every star in the sky.

He sighs and his unkempt hair flips as he shakes his head and smiles to himself. “So pretty.”

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

How To Adapt To Fire (II)

AU MASTERLIST || PART III

PAIRING: Fireman!John 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Journalist!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.6k

WARNINGS: Fire(s), intended harm, death/gore, murder, crime, corruption, arsonist mystery plot, pining, protective!Johnny, flirting, intense banter, fade-to-black, nudity, suggestive descriptions, dirty jokes, etc.

A/N: Taglist is full.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Johnny watches you slap another news clipping to the board he’d bought you for thirty-two dollars and twenty-three cents, tired eyes blinking slowly. Standing in his apartment’s living room in his boxers and an oversized shirt, he’d woken up to the sound of muttering, and it had been just that for the last week. 

When he’d allowed you to live in his spare room until you could find a new apartment building to call your own, he didn’t expect you there to be so much grumbling. Like a little bug in his ear—not that he minded all that much. At least, if you were that bug.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind,” you groan, running a hand down your face. “How did he find me? How did he know I already knew so much about the case?”

He, the arsonist.

Your entire building had been a total loss—and, sure enough, the lock had been busted off of your apartment door just like the scene of the fires that resulted in casualties. You had been targeted, and it wasn’t just an accident. There was intent there; a threat. 

Stay away from me, or else. 

Johnny had sighed long when he read that in the report he’d gotten his hands on—there was no way in hell anything was stopping you except…well, except yourself.

While he had envisioned one day potentially asking you to move in with him, he hadn’t expected that to happen so soon. Certainly not before the first fucking date. He hadn’t even gained the courage to ask you out yet, and here you were—pajama pants polling at your ankles and Johnny’s baggy sweatshirt loose around your shoulders. The Scot stands with the heat of sleep and attraction on his skin. 

He tried not to stare, really he did, but the way you looked in his clothes was too much of a distraction for his own good. 

The man clears his throat, face burning. 

“I’m beggin’ you to give it a rest, Dearie. At least five minutes.” Johnny sighs. “It’s not healthy.”

He doesn’t think he’s seen you shed a tear over your apartment—about your belongings. In reality, he was taken aback by it. Soap wouldn’t have blamed you at all…but you just seemed angry. It worried him, but the emotion was well within your right to hold. Just as it was within his right to try and keep you from rushing into danger.

“Not now,” you grumble. “Not until I know how he found out my room number.” 

“You aren’t exactly unknown.” The fireman walks closer to your standing form, hand moving up to scratch at his back as he gunts. “Mostly everyone who would care to look into your career knows about you. It wouldn’t be hard.” 

Johnny moves his vision over the board, pausing before he licks his lips.

“...They’ll be needing me in today, Hen,” he breathes. 

Your lips tighten, and you glance over quickly to find blue eyes already looking. Snapping your attention back to the board, you push back against the burn of your face.

“It’s your job, I’m not going to tell you not to go in.”

“If you need me here, then I can—”

“John,” you interrupt, shaking your head with a heavy frown and turning his way. “No way. Go in.”

Johnny’s serious face doesn’t lessen, and you’re struck with how often those lines on his face are becoming commonplace.

You wouldn’t say that you were taking this well. 

Forcing yourself to work; making your mind push back at the deep pit that seemed to be growing. Everything you’d worked for—everything you’d had. Gone. Up in smoke.

Two people had died in that inferno, and you can’t help but put that on yourself. 

Fingers going up to tap at your chin, your attention goes back to the board, the heavy weight of bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. You’d tried to re-write what you had in your notes as well as you were able, but there had been a reason for making a physical board in the first place. 

Johnny watches you, his brows tight and his fingers twitching. Sighing, he fixes his feet and lightly places a hand on the back of your spine, blinking quickly your eyes dart over before the tension begins to bleed from your muscles. 

Your gaze begins to soften, but your voice is still a light firmness. “Stop that.”

The man blinks. “Stop what?”

“Stop being all…” You huff, sagging into his hand. “You.” 

Johnny pushes a chuckle, shifting to stare at you fully and letting the smirk move over his lips. His fingers move along your back, rubbing tiny circles as the room goes airy—how quick it was that you could fall into this sense of attachment. To anyone outside of the apartment, it would seem the two of you were in a strange relationship, and that would be true to some extent. 

Your face heats up, and Johnny’s large palm flattens. He moves and presses his nose into your hair.  

“Now what’s that supposed to mean, then?” He grunts, and you can feel his flickering smirk as clear as day. 

Leaning over into him, you sigh, glaring at the board as your heart patters. 

“It means you’re distracting me.”

Johnny hums, thumb moving up and down over the knob of your spine.  “Talk to me,” he mutters. “Let me help, aye?” He blinks slowly, face hot and his lungs palpitating in his chest. The man cared about you so much—his heart ached for what you’d been put through. Losing a home like that. 

Your lashes flutter, a near purr emitting from your throat at the hypnotic movements of Johnny’s grip. Like a damn harpy, he was digging his claws into you; it had been happening for months. Of course, you’d let him touch you—how could you not? Even his sense of courage and justice was something that let you know his character, his honor. 

This case was just as important to him as it was to you. 

“Go,” you mutter, shifting your head so that you can stare at him. Johnny’s visage pulls back, his stubble moving with the worried angle of his lips; his skull tilts, almost like a dog cocking its snout. “We can figure something out later—if I get you fired I’d finally gain a conscious.” 

Johnny sighs, looking you up and down. “...I’ll be making dinner tonight. Just,” he breathes, and as his hand leaves you, your body fights the instinct to shiver. “Wait for me, Bonnie.” 

You take in the closeness between the two of you—how your bodies melt into one another as if on instinct. Something was startling about how easy it was to live in the same apartment as Johnny. It had almost been too easy. Sharing food, blankets, and looks.

Your eyes follow after Soap as he brushes your cheek with the back of his hand before turning and walking back to his room, bare feet padding over the floor. His legs move, small burns and scars all over before your vision travels up the broadness of his back; the stretch of his arms as he brings them up with a groan to itch at his head.

Licking your lips, the sight is enough to quiet your mind. Seeing how, like water, his clothes morph into the swell of his thighs and the…your face bursts into fire, and your head snaps away. 

Clearing your throat, you blink quickly and try to re-focus on your board of suspects.

—

Johnny tightens the belt over his waist, huffing softly as he walks into the fire department’s bay door—passing the red trucks and patting the dogs as they come up to mob him. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, the clicking of little claws tapping over the concrete floors and the panting of hot breath. “Good to see you too, little rascals.” 

The fireman looks around the area, seeing some of the boys mulling about doing repairs or fixing up the slight mess. Johnny motions a hand when he’s greeted, and before long he’s entering the main hub of where he wants to go—the kitchen. 

Grabbing a cup, the Scot’s intention is to get some water before settling into his desk and diving into something that can take his mind off the woman living in his apartment. Licking his lips, Johnny gets momentarily lost in the remembrance of your skin—your determination. 

He’s angry. Angry that someone’s done this to you; had disrupted your life so violently. A question was stuck swirling in his head as he began hearing the murmuring from the walk-in pantry. 

What would have happened if you hadn’t been with him that morning? 

“What do you mean ‘that was you?’” Johnny’s fingers freeze around the rim of a glass, blinking into his own smaller reflection. Brows furrowing, the Scot’s head swivels to the kitchen pantry and the barely cracked open door and the voice that emanates from it.

For some reason, the stagnant air after that sentence makes Johnny’s spine straighten. Blue eyes stare blankly, and fingers twitch as the same voice starts again.

“I thought you said it was over?! That the last one was,” a strangled word, a fast inhale. “We had a fucking deal.” 

Heart slow in his chest, Soap stares the longer this seemingly one-sided conversation goes on. There was something off—the words seemed hurried; panicked, even. It wasn’t the usual emotions you had when having a talk with someone. 

Taking a steady step back, the Scot remembered how fast your pulse had run when he had you at his chest a week ago—the fast slam and the whites of your eyes on full display. Even if you didn’t confess it to him, Johnny knew you’d been afraid of the fire. Fearful. He knew you weren’t sleeping. 

Maybe the fireman was being paranoid, but anything that he didn’t understand made his hackles rise like a feral dog—certainly with you, technically, under his watch now. Everyone was a potential threat. Face stiff, Johnny begins walking over to the pantry with nearly silent feet, boots softly flattening to the tile floor.

Stopping outside of the door, his ears hone in. 

“This isn’t right! There’s a difference between what you do and what I do! We stuck together, but this is it. I’ve covered for you—I’ve tried to smooth everything out, but this isn’t something that I can look past anymore. She wasn’t even involved yet!”

Johnny’s lips tighten, his eyes burning through the barrier until he lifts his hand and settles it loosely on the doorknob, not pushing even as the thin material shifts minutely. The alarms in his head were going off, and he didn’t like that. 

Muscles tight, the Scot moves a bit closer, shoulder just beginning to touch the wood before—

Kurt Matthews, one of the rookie firefighters, shoves himself through. 

Johnny strangles a gasp as the two men nearly collide with one another, only shoving out, what he hopes to be, a casual call of, “Hell’s bells. Careful there, Kid.”

The man’s wild eyes lock on him, stumbling back before Soap’s hands move to grasp his arm, a dark phone held lightly in Kurt’s hand. Johnny looks at it silently before he forces a blank chuckle. “Sorry, then. Was going to get some bread—you know how it is, eh?” Kurt looks frazzled, a sheen of sweat over his face; eyes tiny. “The boys never fill up the bread box after they finish a loaf.”

“What?” Matthews quickly mutters, before shaking his head and waving a hand. “Yeah, right, whatever.”

He swiftly moves past the Scot, brushing shoulders. The mohawked man’s nose pulls in, and blue eyes watch the disappearing individual. 

Johnny’s throat swallows down saliva. 

Kurt Matthews smells like gasoline.

—

You hear the sound of the TV and sniffle, pushing the heels of your hands into your stinging eyes. 

It wasn’t a question as to why you had waited until Johnny left to let yourself feel the hopelessness that was sinking into your chest—you were surprised you lasted that long, though. Tiny tears dribble out over your cheeks, but you fight them with a growl. 

“Keep it together,” you sigh harshly. “C’mon, keep it together.” 

Your heart jerks when the front door of the apartment opens, and you’re quick to stand up from the couch where you had been sitting, clearing your throat as Johnny’s call echoes. 

“Just me!” 

You divulge immediately into your hurried sentences, waving a hand. The shake in your voice is obvious. “I have some of the names I remember writing down—it isn’t much but I—”

“What happened?” Johnny’s hands capture your face in a swift second; he isn’t even out of his work clothes before he’s over and touching you. It’s like he teleported over at the slightest hint of distress, not even a moment of hesitation. “Whoa, hey, hey,” he breathes a bit slower, softer. “What’s this then, Bonnie?” 

Delicate movements of his fingers scrape your flesh, thumb running as blue eyes come into focus. Your lungs tighten up again at the sight of tense worry—Johnny’s face all hard with the lines of his forehead and the narrowing of his eyelids.

“Let me see,” he utters, tilting your head up so the brightness of your eyes is visible to him; the wetness of your flesh. “Hey, now.” 

The man’s attention goes up and down on the off chance this is physical pain instead of the internal kind. But he knows better than that. So, Johnny stuffs down the hunch he had about the man in his own ranks and places all of his concern on you and your bitter tears. 

Even when you try to grumble his worry away.

“It’s just stupid tears, MacTavish,” your voice cracks as he drags you to him, curling his arm behind the stretch of your shoulder blades in an addictive display that leaves your nose sniffling again. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Quit it,” the Scot pleads. “Jesus, Pencils,” he sighs, arms trapping you in just like before. “Just let me hold you, yeah? I swear, you’ll make my heart burst ‘fore I get you to admit you’re feeling something.”

Your glossy eyes flinch into a weak glare. “I’m not that emotionally constipated, jackass.” 

Johnny’s breath moves over your scalp.

“You sure about that?” Your face goes to an annoyed sheen, and from the soft rest of Johnny’s chest, you look over at him. He’s trying a light smirk, but his eyes are still serious. 

Letting yourself melt into him, you take in his scent and the heat he offers you, surrounded by the remnants of his life and future—this apartment that offers you a reprieve. 

You close your eyes and let your hands shift up to grab at Johnny’s shirt slowly, your heart gradually easing. Unaware of the soft gaze watching every second; his own grip tightening.

“...You’re like a dog,” you whisper, tears drying. “Always running over.” Your pause lays out a beautiful scene. “I like it.”

Johnny’s cheeks flare to a bright red. He clears his throat, glancing away from your face. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”

“Hm,” you hum, shrugging and nuzzling your nose into his pulse. You hear it racing. “Up to you, I suppose.” 

The man laughs, chest jerking. 

The silence that falls after is like a blanket—settling thickly over the space as the last of your sniffles finally halt. You didn’t like crying; not in front of others. It was easier to just push through it, but Johnny’s presence made you soft, at the same time you can’t tell if that’s good or bad. But it did make your fear lessen, and maybe that was something you couldn’t overlook. 

You tighten your hold on his waist, and he grunts, glancing down at you as his gut swirls. The man’s half-lidded eyes flutter, fingers flinching along your clothes. The room gets warmer, or maybe it’s just him. 

“I guess,” you begin under your breath, voice muffled by his skin. “I could use your help. Officially.”  

“Ooo,” the Scot whispers. “‘Officially’—look at that.”

You huff, lips pulling up. 

“Well,” the man mutters, chin resting on top of your head as the sun outside begins to dip lower. “‘Officially’ I have some information that my Bonnie little boss might like to hear.”

Your smirk grows wider, your heart hammering faster as your pulse moves with fire. 

“Oh?” Your nails drag his sides, and you feel Johnny’s breath hitch, a low purr emanating from his chest. 

“Oh, aye,” a hand grips your chin, dragging you back until you’re once more blinking into his gaze head-on. His finger pets your flesh, your breath puffing out as he stares down at you. He swallows down the nervousness in the back of his throat, the urgency that instinct pushes away in this moment of anticipation as he watches your face. “But I’m having a moment, it seems—can’t think straight.”

“Why’s that?” You lick your lips and see cobalt blue follow them.

“Because this Hen in front of me has been a damn tease since I’ve met ‘er.” 

Any snappy reply is cut short before it even can fully register in your head, and all thoughts halt the second his firm mouth is on your own. 

You gasp, but there isn’t an ounce of yourself that pulls back, not when Johnny’s fingers play at your shirt-hem, or even when your own slide under his clothes. You don’t pull back when they hit the floor—don’t pull back when your bodies follow suit. 

A dance of fire and ice moves with the writhing of flesh and the passing of heavy kisses; panting breath. Grunts and groans as if every pass of lips and teeth is a knife into supple skin. Tense legs and flexing arms—dragging fingertips digging into every latchable dip even as the dead of night grows longer. 

It’s only after every desire has been satiated that you finally utter about the finer details of this mess. 

Johnny’s hands move down your bare back, slipping to grip your waist and drag you into him as you sigh. Your thigh lifts to rest over his hip, leg hanging uselessly over as it brushes the ruffled sheets as lips find your neck, tiny nips and passes of skin mixing as your eyes flutter. 

The fireman makes a noise of satisfaction in the back of his throat, hand sliding to hook under your kneecap, caressing. 

“So attentive,” you murmur, and your fingers run through his hair, itching at his mohawk as the longer strands slip through. Johnny burrows closer, nose pushing your head upwards as he kisses the space where your neck connects to the underside of your chin. 

He chuckles smoothly, stubble scraping along as you shiver at the sensation. The hard press of his pecs shove into you, and you lightly breathe; fingers twitching.

“How are we feeling?” Johnny grunts in between his worship.

“Energized,” you grin, half-closed eyes shimmering. 

The man smiles widely, grip sliding downward slowly as he chuckles. “Yeah?”

“Not like that,” you groan, shoving his hand away as he laughs, rolling onto his back and folding his arm over his eyes. 

“Ah,” Johnny’s chest jumps with his amusement, itching at his bare abdomen for a moment. “Worth a try, then.”

“Dog,” you roll your eyes. “You’ve had enough of a fill.”

“That’s all up to opinion, Dearie.” He smirks, peeking at you as your face heats up.

Shoving at his shoulder, he laughs again and pushes up, hands melting into the mattress beside your head as he looms above you as a large wall. 

“I’ll never have enough of a fill when it comes to you and your wet c-”

You snap a hand to his mouth, covering it as you glare openly, sneering. “Finish that sentence and you’ll never have me in this bed again.”

Johnny’s glinting eyes stare from above your hand, and you feel his smile as clear as day as his face stays stuck close to yours. 

A teasing kiss is leveled on your palm and you roll your eyes, pulling away to lightly push at his forehead. The Scot lets you shove at him, and you sit up fully as he grunts and rests his back on the headboard. 

Shifting your body, you straddle his lap and grasp his chin.

“A few hours ago,” Johnny’s eyes are blown, and you feel his touch on your hips. He hums in question, barely listening above the squeeze of your legs. “You were going to tell me something—a lead.”

“Was I?” The fireman breathes, licking at your finger as it goes to rest on his bottom lip. 

You cock your head with seriousness and a level of amusement in your gaze. “You were. Tell me.”

“You need to work on your pillow talk, Pencils.” Johnny sets a sloppy kiss on your collarbone and sighs. 

There’s a moment where you both stare into one another, and the gravity of this begins to set in once more. Carnal desire and feelings aside, there was always an edge to the both of you—this need to be seen through whether for some sense of justice or care. 

“Kurt Matthews—rookie fireman,” Johnny grunts, looking away for a quick moment. “Heard him speaking on the phone, got a bad feeling ‘bout it that I can’t place. Might be nothing, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t tell you.” 

“Kurt,” you breathe, brows pulling in. There’s a long pause. “Kurt Matthews…that sounds familiar.” 

Hopping off Johnny, the man groans softly, a slightly needy look following after as your bare body slips away. He knocks his skull against the headboard, side-eyeing your backside as you hurry off to your board. A light smirk makes itself known before your voice snaps him out of his memories. “Stop looking at my ass, MacTavish!”

His face goes beet red as he grunts, quickly snapping his eyes away. 

You wrap yourself into one of the blankets that was on the couch, letting it hang off of your shoulders as you snatch one of the papers on your mess of information. 

“A fireman,” you mutter to yourself, finger running down names and brief descriptions. “An inside job? No, that would be…” Your eyes spark to life as Soap shuffles in, running through his hair. “That would be one hell of a story.” 

Attention locked in, your eyes instantly stop on your own chicken scratch—the name at the bottom of the page. 

Kurt Matthews. Witness to fire on the fifth; one dead. 

“Off duty? Or not hired yet?” You ask, lips tightening. “Why was he at the scene? Johnny,” your curious voice calls to him, and he slips up behind you, flattening his front to your back. You lean into him, showing him the paper. “When did he get taken on into the department?”

“Month ago,” Johnny’s face pulls, frowning. A name catches his attention, and he tilts his head. “Why’s Duncan on there?”

Your attention moves to the scribbled title. Johnny continues as you read, your stomach sinking. 

Duncan Ballard. Employee of Warren Electrical. No involvement.

You wave a hand. “He has nothing to do with this case. That was back when I was looking into the money laundering—”

“They’re cousins.” 

Your body twists, face confused. “What…?”

Johnny blinks, glancing at you and then back to the paper, he vaguely gestures to the two names. “Duncan and Kurt—they’re cousins. Met him at one of the department cookouts. Strange bloke, but I never thought much about it. Just thought he liked the profession a bit because Kurt was getting involved.” 

You stare at him, a million thoughts dashing from behind your eyes. “Duncan was the man I interviewed about the Warren Electrical case. He was cleared by the police,” you stutter, looking to the side. “He was the only employee of the company that didn’t confess or implicate someone else. There was no evidence to…”

You trail off before your spine tightens. Your body pushes itself out of Johnny’s hold, rushing to his computer and opening it like a bat out of hell. 

“Give me the name of one of the fire victims.”

The Scot watches after, hurriedly forcing out, “Mike Lane.”

An article pops up—one that you hadn’t written but that another journalist had. Warren Electrical Employee Exposes All. 

“Another,” you breathe, eyes stuck on the screen.

“Kit Cannon.”

Warren Electrical Employee—

“Johnny, one more.”

“Hadden Taylor.”

Warren Electrical Employee—

Your throat closes for a moment before you force out in the middle of Soap easing out another name, still not sure where you’re going with this. “He’s trying to kill off anyone who snitched.”

Johnny pauses, coming over to look as he thinks—as he looks over the articles you show him with a grim face, he tilts his head.

“Even then, why were you a target? All you did was interview him. And why now?” 

“He knows I have all of the resources,” you begin. “If anyone can catch him, it would be me—I interviewed him when he was in temporary custody. It would have seemed like he didn’t have a choice unless he wanted to keep his appearance of innocence.” 

Your mind struggles through the potential answers. “But you’re right—why now? Is it because of the trial coming up? And how does this connect with Kurt?”

“He smelled like Gasoline when he walked past me,” Johnny adds, rubbing at his chin; itching at his scar. He spares you a look, mulling over the words that he’d heard in the pantry. “...I think he’s trying to cover his cousin’s crimes with his own. Make it seem like they’re all a part of one damn scheme.” 

“He’s the one going for the abandoned buildings,” you agree, nodding a few times, looking over into Johnny’s eyes. “Kurt Matthews and Duncan Ballard. Okay. We have our leads.”

Before the Scot can speak on it, you’re rushing past, grabbing clothes from the floor and shoving them on. His face moves in, confusion overtaking his building shock. 

“What are you doing?” You shove into your pants, not sparing a look before you button them. 

“Get dressed, we’re going out.”

Johnny’s left in the middle of the room, naked, watching after you with a slack-jawed expression of disbelief. 

“...What?”

—

You hang up your phone with one of the many people you know in the city, dropping it to your side as you and the fireman stand in front of your car. You have an address for Kurt’s home—not one for Duncan, but that can happen later. With what Johnny had said not moments before, Matthews was expressing hesitation. Go for the weaker link first. 

The streets are lit up. It’s still night out but the long hours are beginning to thin into morning; it can’t be later than three AM. Vehicles rush past, and, occasionally, people walk to wherever they are off to. The city never sleeps, just as you don’t. 

“Woah,” Johnny grabs onto you before your hand can latch onto the driver’s seat door. He waves his other hand and stares at you heavily. “We can’t just go into this with our dicks in our hands, Bonnie.”

“Thankfully, I don’t have one of those,” you huff. “That’s why I keep you around.”

“That isn’t,” Johnny sighs aggressively, shaking his head. “I’ll not have you in danger. We need to pass this along the chain.”

“The chain,” you grumble, “hates me. We’re the best bet right now.” Raising a brow you point a finger under his nose. “If I recall, you asked to be involved.”

Johnny frowns heavily, looking unimpressed until he takes a deep breath. He rasps out, “You’re lucky you’re damn near a goddess—”

His phone goes off in his pocket, and not a second later, he’s answering as you mess with your satchel. Taking out a piece of paper, you try not to show how much his little comment made you want to float into the air, giddy, nearly, as you write down Kurt’s address sloppily. 

“MacTavish,” Johnny grunts out, turning slightly away. 

You open your car door, but a hand moves out and keeps it closed enough to a point where you can’t slip inside, you pout and Johnny raises a brow as he listens. Your eyes notice how his jaw clenches, and he lets off an aggressive sigh like a boar when he registers the words being said from over the line. 

Your heart drops when you watch his shoulders sag, hips moving as they situate themselves.

“Right. I’ll be over.” Cobalt eyes snap to yours when the call ends, deathly serious. “One of the boys had to run out tonight during his twenty-four-hour—family emergency. I was on call for him.” 

You open your mouth to speak. 

“No,” Johnny points at you, digging out his own keys from his pants as he backs up. He shakes his head. “No—you’re not going alone. Don’t even ask it, Pencils.”

Your loud scoff echoes. “I didn’t even mention it!”

“You fucking thought it,” he grunts, glaring. “Get your pretty arse back inside the apartment and we do this together tomorrow.”

“Oh, yes,” you wave a hand, stepping back onto the sidewalk as the Scot moves to his vehicle only two cars down, sarcastically monologuing. “All naked and waiting to be ravished by your brutish body. Whatever will I do without you, my brave firefighter?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Soap mutters to himself, and just as he unlocks his car and opens the door, you’re there at his side. A light kiss is pressed into his flesh, and he freezes. 

“Be safe,” you mutter, and he melts—tension loosening. He smirks and glances over, carefully grabbing your face before connecting his lips to yours with a low groan.

“Maybe you should be naked and waiting for me—”

“Go!”

Johnny chuckles against your lips. “Keep your head on for me, Pencils. I’ll be back soon, and we can find the fucker that did this, eh?”

As he gets into his car and drives away, you watch after him and bite at your lips. And then as he turns the street corner, you jog over to your car and slip inside.

—

The home was run down.

It wasn’t a place where you would want to raise a family, and neither was the neighborhood. In fact, barely anyone seemed to live on this street, and even if there were entire rows of houses, there weren’t even any lights on—nothing illuminated the streets except the lamps, and you were parked under one with your satchel in your lap. 

Experience didn’t mean you never get nervous.

You feel the clamminess of your palms as you flex them, replaying Johnny’s words in your head over and over. You knew the house was here, so, you could always just…come back later. There was no harm in it. 

Yet, your eyes narrow, and your rage builds. 

This fucker was related to the man that burned down your apartment building—was potentially covering for him so you wouldn’t break the case on Duncan killing off the snitches for Warren Electrical’s schemes. But all because of an interview with him? All you’d done was sit down with the guy; why did he feel the need to track you down? Breaking into someone's house and lighting it up with matches was personal—incredibly personal. 

Duncan had given you a warning to keep away, and you hated warnings with a fiery passion. If anything, it had just set you on his ass more. 

“Okay,” you huff, and reach inside of your satchel, flicking on the recorder you stuffed inside and stating your name, age, and important information. 

And then you open the car door and exit. 

Speed walking to the door, you look down the dark streets and hunch into yourself, the calls of crows and the wind moving the overgrown grass. Cracked concrete hits the ground as you kick pieces away, and at the two steps leading to the front door, you think that perhaps this might be a bad idea.

Bad ideas are what make good articles.

You hum, face innocent. “Johnny’s gonna fucking kill me.”

Knuckles raising, you send three firm knocks into the paint-speckled wood, and wait. And wait.

And wait. 

Your face tightens, your legs shifting minutely as the seconds draw long. A part of you is somewhat relieved until you hear a small creak just when you’re about to walk away. You freeze, and your eyes move slowly to the glass of the side window in a gradual glance. 

Your eyes lock onto a face staring back. 

Gasping, your foot takes a rapid step backward, but before you can rush away, Kurt rips open the door and pleads in a tiny voice as he grabs your arm. You flinch, raising up a heavy fist. But his words stop you from sending it forward.

“No! No, you can’t be here!” Your eyes blink rapidly, stuttering through your initial panic.

“What?”

“Leave!” Kurt snaps, eyes wild. “While he’s still asleep—he can’t see you here or he’ll—” There’s a splash of liquid and you shout. Kurt lets go of you quickly as he looks down at himself as his clothes get flooded from behind. 

The sharp smell hits you before your ears twitch to the sound of a lighting match. 

Kurt screams, snapping around as you fall backward off the steps, slamming into the ground with a panicked flinching in your lungs. A large shadow stands in the doorway. “I didn’t say anything—I didn’t—!”

Kurt Matthews goes up in flames, and in the fire and the rabid screams of sizzling flesh, you’re left shouting in pure fear. Duncan’s familiar face was illuminated by an orange and red inferno and he watches you blankly with a box of matches in his right hand.

You run off so fast, your heels get kicked off in a flurry of a chase.

TAGS:

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[lovelytsunoda]

heatwave // mick schumacher

summary: sticky, sweaty days are no fun at all

pairing: mick schumacher x fiancée reader

prompts used: laying in bed all dayyy together with fans on & when one loves to cuddle and the other hates feeling sticky & "i know the weather is hot, but you're so much hotter, babe" ".... why did you have to be so cringe--

warnings: mentions of heatstroke, mentions of sex

authors note : I know I said I had no inspiration but I guess that was a bold faced lie because now I have some?

the ceiling fan spun in lazy circles, sheer curtains drawn shut and a small portable fan set on the nightstand. the two young lovers were drenched in sweat, despite not having left the bed (or gotten up to anything rated above a pg-13) all day.

the heatwave was a killer, and although they had been warned about the impending inclement weather to the dallas are, neither one had listened.

“ew, mick, your top is soaked through, take it off!”

“so is my skin!” he shot back with a laugh, shaking his head so that droplets of sweat flew off his soaked blond locks. “how’s that going to make any kind of difference?”

“it just will!” his fiancée whined from the bed, where she was lying on top of the sheets in nothing but panties and a grey robbed tank top. “I am literally dying here.”

laughing to himself, mick flopped down on the bed and reached for the tv remote, placing one warm hand on his lovers thigh. it felt like a branding iron on her skin, the simple sweaty contact becoming all too much.

“stop, stop! you’re too hot, I can’t take it!” the shout was followed by the rustling of pillows as she tried to find one that still had a cool side, pressing it over her face in an attempt to cool down

still laughing, mick sunk down on the bed next to her, nimble fingers raking his sweaty hairs away from his eyes as he joined his lover in staring at the ministrations of the ceiling fan.

“you know, this weather is hot, but you’re so much hotter, babe.” mick mused drowsily, turning to face yn.

the woman he loved. the one he was going to marry. there were only a few months now until the wedding, only a few things left to do.

if they could survive this heatwave, that is.

“mick,” she started, pausing for a second as she pulled the pillow away from her face, ready to hit him with it. “what do you have to be so cringe?”

“because you looove me.” mick laughed, leaning over her sweaty body to press kisses all over her face

“mick, you dog!” she shouted in between giggles, fighting the urge to curl her body around his, especially knowing how hot and sweaty she would become if she allowed herself to sink into his loving embrace.

she shoved mick to the side, using the last of her energy to sit up in bed, the gurgle of her stomach echoing throughout the room.

“uber eats?”

“uber eats. and nothing too heavy, the heat will kill my appetite pretty fast.”

moving to the edge of the bed, yn got up and slowly stretched out her sore limbs. she didn’t deal with heat well after having gotten heatstroke watching mick race in singapore a few years prior, hence why she had barely left her bed all day, allowing mick to do yard work and cooking and such.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she started “and it’s likely the only time I ever will. please go and get the ice bath from the garage and make it as cold as humanly possible.”

micks eyes lit up, a devilish smile crossing his features. at the sight of his mischevious grin, yn regretted her decision almost instantly. her lover swept her off her feet, carrying her fireman-style to the garage. she sat on top of her dads old work bench as she watched mick set up the ice bath.

typically, she avoided ice baths like the plague. she found them far too cold, as if she was single handedly reentering the ice age.

but with heat like todays, that seemed to be the perfect answer.

she watched mick set up, his back muscles and shoulder blades moving under his toned skin. “water should be cold, I’ll run inside for some ice.” that smile. that damned cheeky smile. “do you want a swimsuit, or do you want to go skinny dipping. let me tell you which one I would prefer-“

“stop. please. it is too hot for sex today.” she whined, gesturing for him to come closer. “just dump me on the cold water. I want to feel something other than heatstroke.”

mick laughed, picking her up again. “babe, you do not have heatstroke.”

“you don’t know that!”

still laughing, mick leaned over the ice bath and slowly began to lower his lover into the icy water. as the cold water began to touch her, she squealed, flinching back.

“it’s easier if I just drop you right in!”

“well, what are you waiting for!”

with a hearty grin, mick dropped her into the water, stepping back to avoid the splash back.

“holy fuck!” she moaned “god, that feels good.”

“um, excuse you, you never moan like that when I’m the root cause of pleasure.” mick joked, pretending to be offended

she held up her hand, sinking further into the water. “hush. I’d like to meditate in this chilled water, in peace.”

mick knelt next to the ice bath, reaching to playfully tug on her nose. “the ice bath fits two. have room for one more?”

she laughed, turning to kiss him softly. “come on, romeo. of course there’s room for two, we just might need more ice.”

[mugloversonly]

Fear of the Unknown

this is for week one of @softsteddieseptember

prompts: "facing your fears", "meet cute", and "cheesy pick up lines"

As the firetruck pulled up to the apartment building Steve steeled himself. This wasn’t his first apartment fire, but it was his first time dealing with something of this magnitude. A ten story apartment building up in flames and dozens of residents unaccounted for. Since Steve was the fastest and strongest fireman on the team, he was tasked with the top floor.

Thankfully, it was the penthouse so there was only one apartment. As Steve went into the building, heat and smoke raged around him, forcing him to slow down. He found the emergency staircase and began taking them two at a time. The higher he got, the thicker the smoke, but worse than that, there were flames licking the staircase. “Steve to Robin over.” He said into his walkie talkie.

“Robin, over.” Came the quick reply of his best friend.

“The stairs are getting engulfed, we’re going to have to set up the pad, over.” He didn’t bother to listen to her groan, knowing she’d handle it. The rescue pad was a bit of a hassle to set up, but there was no other way to get down.

When he reached the tenth floor, he knocked harshly on the apartment door. “Fire department, I’m coming in!” He yelled. When he didn’t get a response, he stepped back and slammed his heel into the door, splintering the wood.

He dashed into the room and gave it a cursory look. On his hands and knees was a lean man with dark, long, curly hair, crawling away from the door and windows. Steve ran forward and knelt down next to the man. “Hi there. I’m Steve.” He introduced himself. As he assessed the man quickly, he noticed he had a few minor burns and likely smoke inhalation, but was otherwise fine. “We need to get you out of here.” The man turned his head to Steve with a scowl.

“Name’s Eddie. I can’t leave yet.” Eddie turned and continued his crawl. Steve halted for a moment, Eddie looked familiar. He shook himself out of it and followed.

“Eddie we need to get you out of here, the building is going to come down soon.” Steve tried again.

“Listen, firefighter Steve! I get that, but I need to get something.” The smoke was getting thicker and Eddie was coughing, Steve needed to get him out of here.

“There’s no time to get anything, I’m sorry. The stairs are caught up in it, you are going to need to jump out your window so the sooner we can get you out, the better.” This caused Eddie to jump to his feet.

Eddie glared back at Steve. "Jump? Are you crazy?! We're on the tenth floor!" He shouted.

"There's a pad down there to catch you. It's perfectly safe. I promise." Steve reassured the man.

“No! No, I can’t jump.” Eddie's eyes were wide and wet. His hands began shaking.

"Are you afraid of heights?" He asked softly. Eddie nodded quickly. "It'll be okay." Steve promised. Eddie took a deep breath.

"I need to get my angel from her cage before I go." He insisted. “I can’t leave without her, she’s my baby.” Steve picked Eddie up bridal style and carried him to the window, ignoring his protests.

"Where's the cage? I'll get her out." Eddie directed Steve to the bedroom while he was placed on his feet. Eddie opened the window and looked down to see the huge jump pad. It looked safe enough and strong enough to catch him, he hoped. Eddie grabbed onto Steve’s sleeve and pulled him close.

“Be careful with her okay? She’s skittish, especially around strangers.” Steve smiled, this tough looking metal head was so protective of a little critter. “And she bites.”

“I’ll be careful, besides I doubt she could bite through the gloves.” He pointed out. Eddie nodded, the fear still clear on his face. Steve directed him to sit on the window sill before jumping to give himself a second.

“You got this.” Steve encouraged as Eddie took a deep breath.

“You can do this.” Eddie whispered to himself. “GO!” He shouted as he threw himself out the window. Steve watched to make sure he landed safely before turning to make his way to the bedroom.

“Now to rescue a critter.” He said to himself. With the way the fire was going, and the amount of apartments still to check, Steve hoped the little girl would be okay in the pocket of his shirt.

The smoke was getting thicker and he knew he was running out of time. In the bedroom, there was a fairly large cage exactly where Eddie said it was. Inside was a decent sized rat. Unfortunately, it was on its side and didn’t seem to be breathing. A shame, as far as Steve was concerned, but he figured Eddie would like the body regardless. As he reached his hand into the cage, something huge darted towards his hand. Steve yelped and pulled his hand out quickly, barely avoiding the shape. The rat was no longer sitting in the middle of the cage, instead it was being slowly squeezed by a four foot long boa constrictor.

“Shit. Shit...Shit!” Steve swore after letting out a high pitched squeal. He was both regretting letting Eddie jump to safety and extremely grateful for it. On one hand, the hot man didn’t have to hear Steve’s scared noise, but now Steve would have to touch this thing. “Hey, Robin, over” he said into his walkie.

“I read you Steve, everything alright?, over” She asked. He couldn’t do this.

“No. Like physically, yes but emotionally no.”

“What? Why?” She yelled. He hated worrying her but he really didn’t know how to react.

“The apartment I’m in right now has a snake that I need to get out.” He stared at the snake as it slowly started to consume the rat. He tried not to gag. He heard Robin laughing at him, which was just rude. She went out of her way to turn her walkie on for that. “I’m going to give the walkie to Eddie since it’s his snake.” The next thing he heard was some static before Eddie came on.

“Alright, here’s what you do.” He began. Steve was trying his best to stay calm but watching the snake finish it’s dinner was kinda horrifying. Steve listened closely to Eddie and followed his instructions. He gently stroked the back of the snake to let it know of his presence, then he picked it up from the middle. It was a heavy, wiggly thing but Steve held on. “Okay Steve. This next part you’re going to hate. You need to open your jacket a bit and let Angel in. She will likely wrap tightly around you, but you’re too big for her to consider pray. She’s basically considering you a tree so you’re not in any danger. It’ll just be weird.” Steve gulped but did as he was told. Angel wrapped her body around his waist like a belt, with her head tucked under his armpit and her tail around his thigh.

“Ugh. I hate this.” He whined to himself. In that moment he regretted all his life choices. He wanted to change careers, he wanted to move states and change his name, never to be seen again. But he was a firefighter dammit! He was fearless or at least brave in the face of fear. He quickly did up his coat and made his way to the stairs. “Alright, Eddie. You can hand the walkie back to Robin.” He said as he descended. He checked the apartments on the other floors he was in charge of all while the boa was slithering around his body. Thankfully he didn’t have to rescue any other animals or people and he was finally able to exit the building.

He was barely back to the safe zone when Eddie came sprinting over even as Robin yelled at him to slow down. He skidded to a stop in front of Steve and breathed deep through the oxygen mask attached to his face. He anxiously watched as Steve took off his coat and let Angel out. Eddie held his arm out and Angel slithered off of Steve and wrapped herself around her owner. “Angel! You’re okay.” He said to the snake. He removed his mask and did his best to put it over the snake’s nose. He turned a blinding smile towards Steve. “Thank you so much! Robin said you were afraid of snakes.” Steve glared at his coworker/best friend but nodded anyway. “And you faced your fears to save her. Thank you.” He darted forward to peck Steve on the cheek.

“No problem. You jumped despite the height so the least I could do was rescue your pet.” He blushed. “And once I got used to it, it wasn’t too bad.” Eddie stepped in close to Steve and whispered.

“Angel is a boa constrictor, but I have a python you’re more than welcome to hold.” He wiggled his eyes suggestively. If Steve wasn’t blushing before, he’s sure red as a tomato now. They were so lost in their own world they didn’t realize how close Robin was still standing.

“Ugh! If I’d known the Animal Freak was so cheesy I wouldn’t have started watching your show.” Even though her words were harsh, she was smiling. But the words got Steve thinking. It was like a light bulb went off over his head like an old cartoon.

“Oh Shit! You’re Animal Freak Eddie? The guy who has that show on Animal Planet?” Steve exclaimed.

“Yup! The one and only.” Eddie beamed. His show, “Freaks of the Animal Kingdom” was all about the animals that weren’t cute and fluffy. Snakes, spiders, insects, fish, bats, you name it. It was a way to raise awareness for the conservation for animals that weren’t soft and cuddly.

“Huh, I guess that makes sense why you have a pet snake.” Steve said as the two grinned.

“I hate to interrupt whatever is going on here, but Eddie we need to get you to a hospital to check you out and we need to get Angel to a vet.” Robin interjected. Eddie walked towards the ambulance but before he got in he turned back to Steve.

“Give me your phone number sweetheart?” He asked somehow confident and shy at the same time. Steve wrote it down on a piece of paper he borrowed from the EMT and handed it to Eddie.

“Call me?” Eddie promised to do so, and as the ambulance pulled away Steve sighed. He’d really have to get over his fear of snakes.

ao3

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 32 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

The closer you get to the house, as you make your way back up the mountain, the more and more anxious you feel. It seethes in your bones, this feeling of aching disquiet. 

It’s not because you know he’s going to punish you. 

It’s because you remember what you said, in the heat of the moment when you dared to bare your truth to John Wick.

You’d finally fucking said it.

 I’m your girl. 

You’d told him that you are his, and you’d meant it, and he didn’t hear you, or he didn’t believe you. 

There is a ringing in your ears that only gets worse as the peaks of the house come into view through the thick trees. Only once you are inside the gates, standing on the sunny flagstone patio, do you begin to resist him again. “Wait,” you plead. “Please, I’m not ready to go back inside yet.”

“You should have thought about that before you ran from me.” He doesn’t sound angry anymore. Just…matter of fact. Inevitable. Immovable. 

You know that tone, as surely as you know you are fucked. 

“I was playing,” you insist again, trying to twist out of his iron grip. It’s futile, of course. The only time in your life you had an advantage over John Wick was with the help of gravity, running downhill through a maze of trees. Here, now, you know there is no hope in resisting him.  

“I’m still not sure about that.” You shouldn’t feel guilty about the undertone of sadness in his words. 

You know you should be gentle with this man, in his fragile state. You know, deep down, that fighting him like this gets you nowhere but dug deeper in a hole of your own making. But maybe you are beginning to lose it too. This taste of freedom reminded you of what you had lost, and you are not so eager to let it go again without a fight. 

“You aren’t listening to me!” you snarl, still pulling on your arm, getting more frantic by the second. “I told you! I told you that I’m yours, finally, and it’s like you don’t even care! All you want is to keep me under your thumb!”

You know by his now thunderous expression that this is not helping your case at all, but you are too infuriated to stop.

“I heard you,” he growls, then hauls you up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry like you are naught but a sack of potatoes. “I heard you call me an old man, and laugh with joy as those quick little feet carried you away from me.” 

You squirm against him but it comes to nothing, and in no time he has you back in the house, the door secured. 

Back in your prison. 

He does not put you down, striding for the stairs. You hate it, but the cavewoman part of you is impressed when he carries you all the way to your bedroom, breathing like a dragon through his nostrils as he tosses you down on the bed hard enough to bounce. 

There is a pregnant moment as you glare at each other. Even through his anger, there is a glitter of unshed tears at the corners of his eyes, and you know you have pushed this man to the very brink once more. 

You shouldn’t feel guilty for that either–but you do. 

“I”m disappointed, y/n. I thought we were past these childish games.”

“You keep me locked up like an animal, and you’re surprised when I frolic a little when you let me feel the sun on my face for the first time in months?”

“Like an animal?!” He looks around the opulent house–really it only resembles a cabin in broadest terms. “I have spoiled you rotten. Anything you possibly could have wanted, I provided. Things you never could have had, in your old life.”

 Except the thing you needed the most. Freedom. 

“Yes, you’ve done very well at distracting me with pretty things,” you admit, ashamed of yourself now. “But I’m not a magpie, John. You can’t keep me in a cage forever.”

His next words fill you with ice. 

“You’d be surprised what I can do, y/n.”

He takes a step closer to the bed, his dark form looming over you, his big hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. This is it, you realize. All the progress you seemingly made had flown out the window. He was going to spank you hard, the way he’d promised not to, or tie you up, or some diabolical thing you can’t even fathom because your brain just doesn’t work that way.

You close your eyes, because you don’t want him to see you cry, and you don’t want to see what’s coming. You count the time going by in heartbeats, thundering in your ears. You wait for your world to fall apart–again.

You wait, and you wait some more.

In the end, you have to look. You find him still standing there, silent as a ghost, looking down at you. Looking through you. 

In the end he shakes his head, mostly to himself, and strips out of his jacket, down to his t-shirt. Then, he reaches for your boot. Too late, you try to scramble away, but he has your ankle in his unbreakable grasp, pinning it on the bed. “I thought you said you were mine, y/n? Yet here you are, still trying to run from me. You wonder why I don’t believe you.”

“You’re scaring me.” You may as well be honest about it now.

“In all the time we’ve been together, have I ever truly hurt you?”

He plucks at the laces with sharp movements, indicating the undertow churning beneath his still expression.

“Besides fucking me raw?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, despite himself. “Besides that.”

You sigh. “No.”

“Then trust me.”

“I’m not sure I can do that right now.”

He nods, to himself as much to you, pulling off your other shoe. “Then you understand the situation we’re in.” He reaches for the button of your pants next. You try to roll away, because you’d rather have this talk without your hoohaa bared to the wind–again. But he just grips the waist of your pants with impatience, hauling you to him sharply. Fabric tears in protest, but not before he has you pinned beneath him, his hips wedged between your legs. He leans over you, those trunks for arms on either side of you. As ever, your fear is tinged–utterly contaminated–with desire. 

It might be the death of you. Your loins protest even from this small bit of contact, after the way he rode you before in the woods. 

“What do you want, John?” You hate yourself, for how small your voice sounds. Did he make you this way, or were you always such a coward? Were you always so feckless, so easily led? Doubt and self-loathing seethe inside you like poison brewing in your veins. 

“I want you to prove what you said earlier.” 

You narrow your eyes at this; a part of you is grateful for the surge of righteous anger that rises in your breast. It infuriates you, that you have to prove anything to him, at this point. Does he want proof? Or does he just want your submission? Maybe they’re one and the same to him. 

It breaks your heart all over again. 

“Well, I’m not in the mood.”

You wait for his anger, ready for the fight again, craving it–but it doesn't come. After a long moment he just nods, his hair swinging into his eyes, which are cast down, away from yours. You see the flash of hurt upon his face, there and gone like a ripple in a pool, his fists flexing in the duvet beneath you. 

Immediately, you feel fucking terrible. 

“John…” You reach for him, but he’s too quick for you, as ever. In the blink of an eye he has retreated out of your reach–then out of the room. You blink stupidly at the sound of the door slamming. 

You hear the electronic lock whirr, and with a heart filled inexplicably with despair you know you’ve arrived back at square one. 

***

As time goes on, you decide it’s worse than square one. That taste of freedom was like a shot of pure heroin in your veins, and now you are inconsolable in your withdrawal. Just as bad, you find, is your longing for him. 

He leaves you alone in the room for days. Your meals appear at your bedside when you sleep. When you try not to sleep–you do not eat. Now you absolutely emulate a caged animal, pacing in your boredom. 

You try throwing books at the security camera, but fail to dislodge it. You give it up when you break the spine of one and feel guilty. Even though you know John can repair it–it’s not the book’s fault you ran your mouth. 

Maybe it’s not your fault either. 

You even try to entice John by putting on a little show, wearing one of the slinky negligées he’d bought for you, touching and teasing yourself in full view of the electronic eye that tracks your day to day. All it wins you is a lackluster orgasm–all else pales, you find, compared to his thick fingers and strong hands upon you. There’s not a naughty toy in the world that could compare to his cock either–not that you have any at your disposal. 

Radio silence. 

Your heart aches, and now you really feel as though you are losing your mind. 

You shouldn’t miss him. The madman. The monster. The absolute beast. 

You do. 

You miss the John you’ve come to know, when he is doing well. His gentle smile, and his deep voice, and the glitter of his dark eyes when you say something that inadvertently amuses him. You miss his strong arms, and his long body tucked against yours while you sleep. Your nights have never felt so lonely, having had John Wick, and now not having him. 

You simply are not a whole person, anymore, without John, and maybe that should scare you more than anything else he’s done. 

However–it just fills you with despair. Your heart feels like the tar pit of La Brea, blackened and filled with the bones of the love you’d shared. For surely, you’ve really broken it now. 

At first, you thought he meant to just shake you up, show you what life would be like without him if you should succeed to run… Unbearable, is the answer. 

Worse yet, however, as it goes on you fear the root of this confinement lays not in punishment, but in him not wanting your company after your perceived betrayal. He’d asked for your assurance, and you’d thrown it back in his face, too caught up in your own fear, your own anger, your own desires. You reckon he can’t stand you now, and he’s probably just trying to figure out what the hell to do with you. 

A week of solitude goes by before you decide to comb through every book on the towering shelves that take up the wall. Desperate to distract yourself from this clawing loneliness inside, you read a bit of this, and a bit of that, making stacks in odd piles across the floor, cairns of your reading whims organized in a logic known only to you. 

In one of these books you find tucked a picture of Helen. It can only be a scene from their wedding day, John in a dapper dark gray suit, she in a sweet but sensible white dress, a crown of daisies in her hair. He is kissing her cheek, and she is scintillatingly happy. You feel it radiating like the sun, even through the photo. What a force she must have been. 

It is no wonder John Wick has gone mad without her. 

What a paltry substitute you must be. 

Perhaps you are extra sensitive at the moment to such things, but you weep in your hands, unable to stop until you’ve exhausted yourself entirely, laying on the floor amongst your stonehenge constructed of books. You fall asleep there, not even possessing the energy to move yourself up to the bed. 

That is when the explosion wakes you. 

It is loud enough to rock the entire house, several of your bookstacks toppling over. You leap to your feet, your ears ringing. 

Then you hear the gunfire. 

It is beneath your very feet, in the downstairs, volleys and volleys of rounds. You freeze as you listen, fear rending your heart to a lump of ice in your chest. 

Which of John Wick’s old enemies has found you this time?

The power dies, plunging the room into blackness. There are no street lights through the window here in the woods to light your way. There’s barely even a moon this night. 

Huddling in the dark like a scared little woodland animal, you realize, that possibly this means the lock on the door is no longer engaged. The battle is still raging beneath you–you take heart in that, as terrifying as it is, because it means John is not dead. 

You are not proud of how long it takes for you to gather the courage to force yourself to your feet, to make your way by memory to the door in your pajamas and bare feet, and try the handle. 

It turns freely, and you are faced with a new choice. 

Hide like a coward, helpless and untrained as you are, or join the fray. 

You pluck up a heavy book, the only possible weapon left to you, and slip out into the hallway. 

It really is like poetry in motion, watching John Wick fight. From the landing above, you stare as he mows through the home invaders, men dressed like commandos in all black, kicking and striking, breaking limbs and shooting them with their own guns, taking down one then the next until the living room is scattered with dead and splattered with their lifeblood. 

His final opponent is an even match in size. He wears a mask, and that is all you can discern. After an assessing pause they charge each other, moving so quickly you can hardly follow. Their struggle takes them deeper into the kitchen, out of your view. 

Making yourself small as possible, you scurry down the stairs. 

You pause at a corpse whose head sits at an impossible angle, neck clearly broken, and trade your heavy tome for his handgun. It’s been forever since you’ve handled a firearm. You try to remember the lessons your father taught you a lifetime ago, and come up blank in the absolute stress of the situation. You hope that all you have to do is pull the trigger. 

You can hear the sounds of fighting deeper in the kitchen, maybe in the breakfast nook beyond. You hear grunts and the sound of flesh striking flesh, the crash of breaking crockery and furniture. Adrenaline sings through your veins, and you realize with a strange detachment that you don’t actually expect to walk away from this alive. But John is there, and maybe he needs you, so you go.    

You arrive in time to see John’s opponent throw him to the ground in some complicated jiu-jitsu move, using John’s own weight against him to send him sprawling across the floor. You see the flash of a knife, as the attacker pounces, pushing the blade with all his force towards John’s chest. John resists, holding him at bay with all his strength, and the knife hovers, even as the attacker puts all his weight behind it, desperate to drive it home. 

You do not even think, as you scream and lift the gun, pulling the trigger. The sound and the fury of it surprises you, the large-caliber weapon jumping in your hand. 

Somehow, one of the bullets catches the man perfectly in the side of the throat. You stare in horror as he falls over with a gurgling groan.  

An eerie silence falls upon the house, seemingly the only sounds your heartbeat in your ears. But you realize it is only because you are now partially deaf. The sound of Dog barking furiously leaks in through the ringing, from behind a door down the hall. John must have sequestered him to keep him safe when the shooting started. 

With wide eyes and slow feet you approach, the gun shaking in your hand. You can tell that John is hurt badly, cuts on his face, his arms, and you can see he is bleeding beneath the soft fabric of his white henley. Yet he does not ask you for help, looking at you with a strange sadness in his eyes. 

Then you realize he is looking at you–with the gun. 

A long, weary breath escapes him, and he glances to the blown out window beyond. The result of the explosion, no doubt. The cool night breeze wafts through the void, carrying the bewitching scent of the trees, lifting your hair.

Your portal to freedom, should you be ruthless enough to claim it. 

He closes his eyes, nodding to himself as much as you. “It’s ok, y/n. Do what you’ve got to do.”

The horror of it dawns on you; he thinks you will kill him too, to gain your freedom. 

Maybe you even have every right to. 

It infuriates you to the bottom of your soul, that he thinks you even could. 

“You asshole,” you snarl, hitting the right button by pure luck to eject the clip, which is empty, racking the slide and throwing the blocky handgun across the room in your fury, shattering a crock full of utensils on the far counter. “You would put that on me?” You fall to your knees beside him. 

Does the only path to your freedom have to be his death? 

As though you could survive the guilt of it?

As though you can survive without him, at all?

Carefully you lift his shirt to look at his wounds, and you curse at the sight of the nasty cut on his side. “Fuck. I’ve got to call an ambulance.” You reach for a dishtowel, folding it and pressing it into his side, making him wince. 

“No ambulance,” he groans. “No police.” 

Now the tears arrive, filling your eyes and pouring down your cheeks. “John, you are hurt, and I don’t know what to do.” You know he needs professional medical attention. There is another bloodstain on his shoulder, a bullet wound, you realize. Jesus Christ. You don’t have enough hands. 

“Hold this,” you demand, putting his hand over his side, scrambling for the drawer where he keeps the kitchen towels. 

“Baby…” He grunts as you press the next towel down. 

“Where is your phone?”

“You’re not leaving?” He reaches for your face with a bloodied hand, and you clutch him to you, pressing your cheek into his palm.

At a time like this, that is what he asks you? It shatters your heart all over again, and you press your lips to his in a fervent kiss, the taste of him tainted with copper. You hope it’s only his blood, but somehow you doubt it. 

“No, I’m not leaving, you idiot,” you grouse. “Now who the fuck do I call?”