#called the firefighters it seems I started a fire.

[moonsgemini]

kinda sorry - firefighter!rafe

-

summary: After months of a cat & mouse game Rafe finally gets his favorite waitress alone. He doesn’t even care if it’s at his place of work.

warning: 18+, firefighter!rafe x waitress!reader, fem reader, SMUT! these people are freaks!! dirty talk, oral, cum play & eating (I’m so sorry?), praise kink, fingering, cursing, p in v

an: hiiiii this is so smutty I actually need to repent my sins. I promise I’m working on the next part of cherry wine I just cannot figure out how to end it so in the mean time enjoy another firefighter rafe fic. Does it kinda suck ? yeah.

-

You wiped the same spot on the counter for the fifth time as you looked at the clock on the wall behind you. It was already fifteen past seven and they weren’t here yet. You were starting to get antsy. They always showed up at seven like clock work and you hadn’t seen them leave for a call. No flashing lights and loud sirens had been heard or seen.

God you felt pathetic. When did your life come this?

Pining over a hot firefighter who worked across the street and probably only acknowledges your existence for free slices of pie and haphazard flirting. He was so handsome you’d let him flirt with you for free pie any time. You really did feel pathetic, but it had been a long time since a very attractive man made your palms sweat and stomach flutter. Even if there was a chance it was all just out of boredom on his end.

When that hope in your chest that they’d come began to diminish you looked up one more time, just in case. That’s when you spotted the group men walking out of the fire station across the street. A smile involuntarily appeared on your lips. Your favorite part of the week finally arrived.

You’ve been working at Penny’s since high school so you were familiar with the little routine the men across the street carried on. You had grown up with most of the guys having known them since you were a teenager. A couple of them now even being your old classmates. Except for him.

Rafe had started a few months ago and you hadn’t stopped thinking about him since his first visit to Penny’s. It was rare to see a handsome face like his in this small town. It was rare to see a new face period.

You spotted him right away. He could surprisingly pull off the buzzcut and mustaches always did something for you. He was tall with big arms, how could anyone not like him.

From behind the register you watch through the windows as he laughed at something one of the other guys said rubbing his hand over his mustache. A habit you noticed he had. God did he look as handsome as ever. You wanted to know what his mustache felt like against the skin of your neck and against your inner thighs.

The bell above the door rang as the group of men walked into the small diner. You pretended to be busy by wiping the spot next to the one that you had spent the last fifteen minutes on. Doing your best to seem nonchalant like you hadn’t been anticipating their arrival all day by staring out the windows. You would never do something like that.

You looked up and smiled at the familiar faces welcoming them in. They greeted you as they walked to their usual booth in the corner.

Rafe was the last to walk in giving you a smirk and a small nod as he passed. His navy blue tee shirt fit tightly over his chest and biceps. Always a sight for sore eyes. You were practically drooling, you wanted to bite him. Wanted to feel his big hands all over your skin.

You cleared your throat and took a deep breath feeling your cheeks get hot. You needed to push those thoughts away or you’d do something embarrassing. Brushing your hands on your apron you approached them, pulling out your favorite pen and sticker covered order book.

You may or may not have put a little more effort into your appearance today. For no particular reason of course, but if he was going to flirt with you then you might as well play into it. At least that’s what you told yourself when you applied lashes and added some blush to your cheeks.

“Hey guys, what can I get you all to drink?” You asked once standing in front of the table as if they didn’t order the same thing every time.

“I’ll take a coffee my dear,” Captain Morales said smiling. He’s known you for years now and looked out for you as if you were his own daughter.

Rafe was last to order. That smirk making it’s way to his lips again, “I’ll take a coffee y/n,” His eyes lingered on your glossy lips. Little did you know that he was thinking about how he could just eat you up.

As his eyes raked over you face he didn’t miss the red tinge in your cheeks. He’d do anything to make it an even deeper red. Specifically have you blushing profusely under him or even on top of him. Then he started to think about you bent over and ready for him.

“Coming right up!” You said sweetly before heading off to get the coffees breaking whatever trance he was in.

-

Wednesday’s had become Rafe’s favorite day of the week. Not only was it technically his friday but he got to see his favorite girl. He always thinks about the first time he saw you. You were arguing with a customer who thought their expired coupon should still be valid. He watched as the guy threw his soda at you and before him or any one else could step in you punched the guy in the nose and dragged him out by his collar. The idiot cradling his nose bleeding nose.

That has been the hottest thing Rafe had ever witnessed.

“Now it’s free! Never come back dick head!” You yelled at him as you stomped back into the diner. After spending a few minutes in the back changing into a tee shirt you had in your locker you went to their table. Your tough demeanor had vanished and you held a soft smile on your face. That’s when he knew he was fucked.

-

Y/n walked back behind the counter to grab mugs and the coffee pot. You knew you’d probably have to make another fresh pot after serving them. Your best friend, Grace, had returned from her break and was wiping menus staring at the table of men.

“Matt looks so good. If we don’t get laid by these hot men we need to quit and become nuns,” Grace said quietly as she eyed the firefighter she’s had her eye on since he moved to town a few years ago.

Y/n snorted, “I’ve given up on mine. It’s been months and it’s just flirting and checking me out,” she shrugged, “Our hook ups and incredibly romantic dates will remain in my fantasies.”

“Don’t say that when I’ve been waiting a year now for mr brown eyes,” Grace huffed, “Why doesn’t he do anything. He acts like I’d say no to him.”

“You could ask him out,” You said handing her three mugs to help you take everything. Mostly so she could get closer to Matt.

She laughed dramatically, “You’re so funny Y/n! And after that I’ll call my dad since we’re saying things that are never going to happen.”

“Oh come on he could never say no to you,” You encouraged.

“Then you ask blondie out.”

You stared blankly at her.

She snorted, “That’s what I thought. Lets just continue to admire from afar so the hottest men we’ve ever seen don’t reject us.”

You followed behind her with a sigh. It’s not like you hadn’t thought about asking Rafe to hang out. It’s just that you had that nagging feeling in your chest that maybe he didn’t want to see you anywhere outside the diner. You cleared your throat to rid the anxiety that began to bubble in your stomach. You didn’t have time to over think that right now.

Grace placed one of the cups in front of Matt and he looked up at her with a shy smile, thanking her softly. They were two idiots in love.

“Are we ready to order?” You asked after filling the last mug.

“Yes ma’am,” Stanford said. One of the other older fire fighters.

It was always hard paying attention to their orders when Rafe’s ocean eyes were boring into you. He always had that affect of turning you into complete mush.

“For you Rafe?” You asked tilting your head to the side slightly.

A teasing smile pulled at his mouth, “Bacon cheeseburger with fries please.”

“No onions?”

He nodded. His pants getting a bit tight at the thought of you remembering something about him.

“You got it, I’ll put this is for you boys.” You smiled an walked away. A little extra sway to your hips hoping Rafe was watching but hoping you weren’t making a fool of yourself.

-

A slap to the back of his head got Rafe out of his trance. He ducked rubbing his head turning towards the culprit. His wonderful view of your ass ruined.

“Ow?” He muttered looking over at Miguel next to him.

“Are you just going to check her out every fucking week or are you going to do something?” He asked with a teasing tone.

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t have time for a girl right now.”

“You’re such a fuckin liar,” Morales laughed as he sipped his black coffee.

Rafe rubbed his face, “I’m working on it okay.”

Morales smirked knowing he was getting under his skin, “You and baby face over here need to grow a pair or someone else is gonna realize how wonderful those women are and beat you to it.”

“Hey what do I have to do with this,” Matt muttered rubbing his mustache.

Miguel laughed, “Dude Grace has been pining for you for forever and don’t act like you don’t feel the same.”

His began blushing at the thought of her, “Whatever. She’s too good for me anyways.”

“Spare me the pity party Anderson and ask the woman out,” Morales said and then pointed at Rafe, “And you. Do something or don’t. Don’t string her along with whatever flirting shit you do.”

Rafe huffed, “Yeah Yeah.”

He turned to look for you tuning out whatever new conversation started between the men. He found you laughing with Grace as you both rolled napkins with silverware. He loved your laugh and your smile. It was so infectious and warm. Rafe had no idea he could feel this way towards someone.

At first it was all lust. Your attractiveness captivated him, especially knowing you didn’t put up with anyone’s shit but also still a complete sweetheart. He moved to this town because he needed a fresh start. He didn’t expect to pine after a woman who was way too good for him.

Rafe continued to watch as you walked around helping other customers. The sway of your hips made him want to grab onto them. Pull you against him as he kissed down your neck from behind. He’d love to hear your laugh as his mustache tickled your ear. He could already see how pink your cheeks would get at the dirty words he’d whisper in your ear if you let him.

You had no idea that you could have him on his hands and knees for you.

-

Captain Morales had paid for their dinner and they had gone back to the station. Of course the meal was filled with Rafe’s longing glances towards you. Some not so subtle flirting on his end, you of course didn’t do it back in front of the other guys. But when they’d al go outside to wait for the captain to pay he would linger as you wiped down their table.

That nights conversation had firmly planted that seed of hope. Hope that he’d finally pull a move on you since there was a fundraiser barbecue at the station this weekend. Obviously you would be there because you would never miss an opportunity to support your community. It had nothing to do with the fact that Rafe was going to be there.

“You’re coming this weekend right? Or do they have you working?” He had asked with a smirk.

You shook your head with a teasing smile, “Not working, don’t worry I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

“Good?” You teased tilting your head a little in a questioning manor.

He nodded, “I’d be bored without my favorite girl.”

You huffed a flustered laugh, “You mean server?”

He shook his head, “I meant what I said.”

-

Rafe watched as you laughed with Mrs.Garcia about something as you helped pass out desserts. It had been almost three hours since the fundraiser started and he had gotten to talk to you only a handful of times.

He was put on grill duty and you had been pulled in all directions by people. Rafe liked the small town atmosphere of the place and it was one of the reasons why he was glad he got hired at that station, but now he was starting to hate it. Why did everyone have to know you and take you away from him.

You were just as disappointed as him. Every time you would try and make your way to the grill someone would pull you to help with something or the kids would want you to watch their dance routine they made up. You could feel his eyes on you and when you looked back at him he’d smirk. That stupid devilish handsome smirk.

The sun had begun to set and people were starting to clear out. You looked around and found Rafe helping take down all of the tables and put away chairs. Being ordered around by Captain Morales. You sighed, maybe you and Rafe were always meant to just have flirty banter. Nothing more.

You didn’t want to wait around until he was free again and you didn’t want to bother him so you accepted your fate. Before you left you wanted to use the restroom so you made your way into the firehouse.

Once Rafe was done helping clean up he looked around for you. He didn’t see you anywhere. His chest filled with disappointment as to how the night went. He thought this would be his chance to talk to you outside your job and maybe even take you home. His disappointment was clear on his face as he continued to look around as if you’d come out of thin air any moment.

Beside him someone cleared their throat, “She went inside a couple minutes ago,” Captain Morales said.

Rafe looked over at him with furrowed brows, “huh?”

“Your girl. She’s inside. Now hurry before you miss your chance,” He nodded towards the open door.

Rafe laughed, “How do you even-“

“Son you two look at each other like you both hung the moon I’d be an idiot to not know. Now please go get her I don’t want to have to deal with your attitude later if you miss your chance.”

Rafe nodded his head with a wide smile, “Yes sir.”

He made his way into the firehouse to look for you. Hopefully you hadn’t slipped by him. As he turned the corner to where the restrooms were he found you standing looking at some pictures hanging on the wall.

He stood there for a minute just admiring you. Your soft cheeks and long lashes. Your long smooth legs in that sundress that looked a bit too short and tight on you. It made something in his stomach stir. He cleared his throat to gain your attention.

Your head snapped towards him. Eyes widening in surprise, you weren’t expecting him. Rafe walked over to stand by you and see what you were staring at. It was a picture of the whole station. Then a picture of him and a couple other guys.

“Staring at me huh?” He asked with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “You wish Cameron.”

“I do.” He turned to look at you. That dreamy look in his eyes, “You almost got away from me today.”

You laughed softly, “Sorry. I was trying to come up to you but you know how it is.”

He nodded, “That’s the unfortunate thing about liking a girl everyone loves. You couldn’t help the hear that creeped up your neck at his confession.

He didn’t let you say anything as he continued, “Guess that just means I’ll need to take you out on a date to get you alone.”

You let out a surprised huff, “Oh yeah? Well we’re alone right now.” You looked around making a show of it.

He smirked, “So you don’t want to go on a date with me baby?”

This man was going to be the death of you, “Of course I do. Been waiting for you to ask.”

He laughed and took a step closer to you, “Sorry it’s taken me so long. I liked that little dance we were doing, but let me make it up to you.”

Your body was on fire at everything he was saying. This man had to have been created in a lab with the way he was speaking to you. He was walking closer to you now and you took a few steps back until your back hit the wall of the hallway.

“How are you gonna do that hm?” You tried to play cool as if your pulse wasn’t racing in anticipation. Now you weren’t usually a girl that hooked up with a guy before going on a date but that was going all out the window today if Rafe wanted to have his way with you.

He reached forward and stroked your cheek with his thumb. His eyes going down to your lips. His tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip as your parted, “By fucking you.”

Your eyes widened slightly. Thighs clenching at his non filtered confession, he really was done playing the cat and mouse game. You didn’t even care. Your brain became complete mush and you would let him fuck you in this hallway right now if he wanted to.

“You gonna let me do that hm?” He asked as if he didn’t already know the answer by the way your thighs clenched and your nipples hardened underneath your dress.

You nodded slowly as if you were under a spell. Your heart was erratic as you pictured this tall handsome man fucking you in his big arms. You could cum just thinking about it.

His thumb tugged gently as your bottom lip, “Words baby come on.”

“Yes please,” You said softly.

That’s all he needed to hear before he took your hand and dragged you into the room next to you. It was one of the rooms where they came to sleep during over night shifts. It had a desk, bunk beds, and one single bed. He locked the door behind him before pushing you up against the desk. Rafe and you were panting and you hadn’t even touched each other yet.

He cupped your face in his hands and groaned, “You’re so beautiful I can’t keep my hands to myself anymore.”

“Then don’t,” You murmured in a haze as he dove in to capture your lips in his.

He groaned and moved his hands down to your waist and then to your hips. Pulling you even closer to him as you parted your mouth to let him have more access. He was everywhere and it felt so good. His tongue explored your mouth as his hands grabbed and squeezed at your body. The light whimpers and moans leaving your mouth sending him into a frenzy.

He pulled away with hazy eyes and swollen lips, “Fuck I’ve been thinking about this for long.”

You nodded your head rapidly, “Me too.” You said breathlessly. You felt like you were in a Rafe enduced trance. He moaned at the sight of your swollen lips and the strap of your dress had fallen in the haste.

He pushed you back so you were sitting on the desk now with him between your parted legs. He leaned forward and began pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. You tilted your head back giving him more room. Your fingers tangled in his hair. Tugging when he kissed that one particular spot below your ear. He bit at your neck and you gasped as his tongue soothed the sting. You had never been so turned on in your life, and he hadn’t even touched you really.

That changed when his hands slid down your hips to your thighs. He squeezed them loving the feel of them. Rafe couldn’t wait to have them wrapped around his head, he wanted you to suffocate him. He needed you to suffocate him with your pussy.

He played with the hem of your dress as he kissed your collarbone. He was being a tease, “I thought the teasing was over.” You mumbled with hooded eyes. You wanted him to just shove the dress up and fuck you.

He chuckled against the swell of your breast that he had been peppering with kisses, “Patience sweetheart. I’ll fill you up with my cock, tongue, and fingers in no time.”

You moaned at his words as he slipped the straps of your dress down and tugged the top part down to reveal your tits. He groaned at the sight of your perked nipples and leaned down taking one in his mouth. His other hand reaching for the other and brushing his thumb over the sensitive bud.

The moans that left your mouth were pornographic. It was like you had been touched in years which was only partly true.

“Mmm you’re so sweet,” He groaned as he moved to the other one.

You sighed with pleasure, “I need you.”

He laughed softly going back to kiss you, “Don’t worry baby I’ll give you what you need.”

His big hands grabbed your hips and pulled you off the desk in a swift motion. You thought he was going to take you to the bed and finally have his way. You should have known better with him, you’re starting to get that Rafe loves the anticipation. The chase of it all because he turned you around so his chest was on your back.

You could feel him aching agains your lower back. He felt so big and your mouth watered at the thought. You barely had any time to question what he was doing when you felt him press kisses from in between your shoulders and down your back. As he did he gently pushed you down to be basically bent over the desk. Then he was kneeling behind you.

His hands stroking your thighs as they shook in anticipation. He playfully bit your butt with a small groan. Rafe pushed your dress up to rest around your waist. Almost on instinct you arched your back and pushed your hips towards him. Needing for him to do something.

“Please Rafe,” You murmured desperately.

He grinned sweetly, “You sound so pretty asking nicely baby.” He reached his hand down to lightly stroke you over your underwear.

You gasped at the minimal contact. Then he was fully rubbing circles onto your clit. The wet patch at your center growing. He pulled your cheeks apart as he dove in and pressed wet kisses to your clothes pussy.

“Fuck,” He groaned, “Let me have a taste yeah?”

You whined. Literally whined, “Please Rafey please please.” You never thought you could be this desperate for a man. You could feel his smirk against your cunt.

He slid your panties to the side and dove in like a starved man. You gasped in surprised not expecting him to go all in since he had been teasing so much, but you’d thank God every day for it. You already knew you’d be thinking about his mouth for the rest of your life.

Rafe’s tongue massaged your clit in the best way and with the position his nose nudged at your entrance. His hands reached up to grab a handful of your ass and squeeze making you moan louder.

The room was filled with the sounds of his sucking and lapping as well as your whines. His hand then came down to slap one cheek. A motion that made you push yourself against his mouth even more.

Rafe would be a happy man if this is the way he went out. Drowning in your pussy. Your juices dripping down his chin as he mercilessly worked his tongue over you. The groans he let out adding to the pleasure.

Pressure built up in your lower stomach as that knot of pleasure tightened. You had never gotten so close so fast besides with your own hand. The way this man was lapping you up had your legs shaking.

“Yes Rafe!” You exclaimed, “Gonna cum!”

Your head flew back as your eyes shut in pleasure. The white hot euphoric feeling of your orgasm taking over.

“Mhmmm,” He groaned as he continued to lick and suck, “Fuck baby so good.” He mumbled as he continued his ministrations prolonging the intense feeling.

He pulled away once he had cleaned you up of everything you gave him, “Such a messy girl huh,” He mumbled as he pulled your hair so your back was against his chest again. Your head tilted back onto his shoulder. Rafe had a way with words, it had your mind in a haze.

He moved his hand to cup your face and tilt it towards him even more so he could capture your lips in his. The kiss was sloppy and so hot.

You pulled away slightly and mumbled against his lips, “Please please fuck me Rafey.”

He but his lip and groaned, “Of course baby anything you want.”

You expected him to shove his pants down and stuff his cock in you but you should have known him better. He spun you around so your back was pressed to the desk again. He tapped on the back of your thighs to get you to sit on it again and as you did he mumbled, “So obedient.”

The scene in front of him looked so vulgar. You were sat at the desk with your dress bunched around your stomach. All the delicious parts Rafe wanted to dive into exposed. He took a mental picture to remember it even though this definitely wouldn’t be the last time he’d have his way with you.

You reach out for him and tugged at his shirt wanting it off. He smirked as he took the hint and pulled it off. The sight of his toned chest and broad arms had you gushing all over again.

“We should be quick now before they come looking,” He muttered as he began to undo his belt. He pulled his pants and boxers down to rest around his ankles. His cock on full display for you and you bit your lip as you took in the sight. Glassy eyes widening at the size, you had never seen one like that.

He tugged at it a few times to relieve the tension. The way you were looking at him was making his ego grow, and Rafe didn’t really need that.

Grabbing where your knees crease he pushed your legs up so your feet were almost flat on the desk. Your core glistening and on display for him.

“Fuck I can’t wait to be in that nice wet pussy,” He couldn’t away. He let you hold yourself up now as he grabbed himself and began sliding his tip through your folds. You let out small whimpers at the feeling. Then rubbed it over your clit, making you even wetter.

Rafe was having the time of his life. You felt so good against him he never wanted to stop. The way your nipples perked and your eyes practically watered in pleasure.

“You’re so wet baby,” He slipped the tip into your entrance, “mmmph feel s’good huh.” He smirked cockily as he pushed himself in deeper and deeper.

Your brows furrowed in pleasure as he stretched you deliciously. His thumb finding your clit and rubbing soft circles. Your head fell back with a sigh as he bottomed out.

He leaned forwards and kissed you softly as he started moving. You both moaned as he pushed back in hitting that sweet spot. He pulled away and leaned down to take a nipple in his mouth. Sucking and gently tugging.

Your hands were tangled un his short locks. As his movements grew faster and harder your hands moved all over. His shoulders, chest, back anywhere you could touch. Your nails leaving crescents in his skin as he continued to mumble obscenities into your ear.

‘so good baby’ ‘the most perfect pussy’ ‘my good girl letting me fuck her so well’

The feeling of euphoria increasing as he continued. Rafe groaned as he felt you tighten around him. He was regretting one thing right now and that was waiting this long to fuck you.

“M’close Rafe,” You whined as that familiar feeling spread throughout your body.

“I know,” He panted and started working faster, “Cum for me baby come on. I know you can do it.”

His encouragement helped your release. As he felt you orgasm and tighten around him he neared the edge of his own orgasm.

“Need you to cum in me,” You mumbled as he milked you for all you had.

His eyes rolled back at your statement, “Fuuuck.” Then his hips snapped into you a few more times before he released inside you coating your walls in his cum. It felt so good to have him stuffed inside you. His head resting on your chest as he groaned. After a few minutes of your labored breaths Rafe slowly pulled out. The loss of him causing you to whimper and he just smirked.

You thought you guys were done but then Rafe looked down and slipped two fingers inside you.

“Oh Rafe,” You gasped, “W-what are you doing?”

He bit his lip as he continued to watch his fingers pump in and out slowly, “Feeling how well you took all my cum baby.”

Then as if he couldn’t be hotter and dirtier he removed his fingers and his cum was all over them. He took them and began rubbing it over your clit. The overstimulation made your toes curl and your mouth fall open.

The scene in front of him was so filthy and will be on constant reply for the rest of his life. The entire last hour he would be thinking about that forever.

He removed his fingers and you reached out grabbing his wrist to tug the fingers into your mouth. Licking and sucking his fingers clean.

“Dirty girl,” He mumbled as you pulled them out with a pop.

He leaned in and kissed you softly, no more lust behind it. It was something else now. Rafe helped you fix your dress and pull your underwear back on after he pulled his pants back up.

“I’m kind of sorry I didn’t take you out first but I also don’t regret it because I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you for months,” Rafe said as you fixed your ruffled hair.

You smiled at him, “I’m not at all. You can still take me out and we can do that all over again.”

A loud banging on the door made you jump and rafe whip his head around.

“You guys done yet? I need a nap,” one of the other guys yelled through the door.

Your face paled at the realization that you might now have been very quiet. Rafe just laughed, “One minute!”

“Oh god. I need to quit my job and move towns now,” You put your hands on your face in embarrassment.

Rafe laughed and kissed the back of your hands that covered your face, “Nuh uh. Not running from me now.”

[sugugasm]

. ༉‧₊ 𝐀 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄

✧ synopsis : after almost a decade of a healthy marriage, four kids, and a stressful bakery opening, you and toji have learned to take your alone time very seriously.

✧ tags : firefighter! toji + baker! reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, blk fem reader ofc, mentions of alcohol, public sex ?? in the car, mentions of vaginal penetration, cowgirl, pet names like bby, love, pretty, mama bc yall already know etc, excuse any errors. i wrote this in a few different povs at first so — 𝟓.𝟖𝐊 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 smiles as he pulls into his driveway, the familiar cacophony of squeals and thuds greeting him before he’d even opened the door - the kiddos must’ve been riding the after dinner sugar high. cheerfully shaking his head, he braced himself for the chaos and noise that awaited inside your now shared, cozy little place the two of you have grown to call home.

it’d been nearly six years since that fateful summer when you’d quite literally swept into his life like a swirl of sunshine and baked goods. six years of dizzying ups and downs, laughter and tears, the most intense love he’d ever known to face. sometimes it still didn’t feel real, even now - this life you’d built from the spark of simple flirting over sweets n’ crème brulee.

so much had happened in that span of adventures : you, graduating at the top of your culinary class, your desserts and pastries that you’d stressed so hard about being the toast of the competition circuit. toji retiring as lieutenant of the fire department after over a decade of service, not daring to miss out on any more milestones as the two of you started your family. not to mention the whirlwind of wedding plans, and then the magical day itself where you vowed forever to each other in front of family and friends.

then the true blessings had come along, one right after the other - megumi, who was still adjusting to the new family dynamic of it all, but was yet so proud of his father. little rascally rose, a firecracker just like her mama with the same bright eyes and full curls. goofy, tender-hearted kenji who practically worshipped his big brother and sister, wanting nothing more than to mimic their every move and be just like his papa. and finally malachai, the happy surprise baby who seemed to have inherited the best of both his parents’ feisty personalities.

toji wouldn’t trade this beautiful chaos for anything in the world. but he’d be lying if he said the constant juggling act of family life wasn’t difficult - for the both of you. it was rare for you guys to get a real moment alone together, just the two of you. your intimacy had cooled down amidst all the lovely distractions, as had the simple art of conversation beyond trading information about grocery lists and pediatrician appointments.

date nights had become a long forgotten luxury, almost seemingly impossible to coordinate when your trusted babysitters were your siblings with families of their own. but tonight, uncle satoru had stepped up and volunteered his services, giving toji and you a well overdue opportunity to reconnect.

toji unbuckles his seatbelt and exited the truck, tamping down a flutter of nerves. what if the easy rhythm and sizzling chemistry you’d once shared was gone for good? a victim of sleep deprivation and chicken nugget overdoses? what if it was too late to rekindle that spark?

pushing open the front door, he was immediately swamped by a tiny army of squirming, chattering bodies. “papa, papa, papa!” rose seized his hand and tugged insistently. “you gotta’ see the cool fort we built! kenji made it super big this time!”

“we’ll show ya, dad!” kenji crowed, already streaking towards the living room, malachai hot on his heels with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“hold up there, you lil’ tornados,” toji called in vain, being unceremoniously dragged by his giggling daughter into the chaos. every available pillow, cushion, and blanket had been appropriated to create an elaborate tent city surrounded by toys and stuffed animals . . and gojo sat smack in the middle of it all, long legs splayed out as he played some kind of intricate make believe game with the two boys.

“baby, you’re home!” you swept in from the kitchen, wisps of hair escaping your messy bun and face flushed from exertion. you were wearing a cute pink sundress that struck a nostalgic chord in toji’s memory - you’ve had it for years, one of his favorite things to slowly peel off of your shoulders after a night out to be exact. “thank goodness. i was startin’ to think i’d have to call backup.”

you stand on your tippy toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, and just like that, his weariness evaporated as if by magic. your familiar floral scent, your soft warmth, the kids’ laughter surrounding him - this moment of serenipity in the midst of routinely chaos bringing a lump to his throat.

“not a chance,” he rumbled, sliding an arm around your waist. “i wouldn’t miss this for the world.” downy goosebumps erupted down your arms at his words, flustering deeply. awe, his voice still got you going after all this time. good to know. very good to know. “y’all holdin’ down the fort?”

“y’know how it is,” you reply with a gentle squeeze of his hand, watching in fond exasperation as rose ordered poor gojo to lie down so kenji could perform his ‘very important surgery.’ “satoru took his role a lil’ too seriously this time and got lost in their games.”

you stood together watching for a few moments, the kids pausing just long enough to acknowledge toji’s presence again before diving back into their shenanigans. it was all so beautifully vibrant and alive, the little people you created and who brought such joy, such richness and meaning to your lives. but still . . . toji felt the undeniable tug of wanting you all to himself. just for a few hours at least. he wanted to bask in your undivided attention. to remember what it felt like to not share you with anyone else.

you must have picked up on his restlessness, your eyelids drifting shut as he stroked the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “soon as we get back, m’ cravin’ some peace n’ quiet. maybe a hot soak in the tub after all this madness.” your tone was light and casual, but the smoldering undertone was unmistakable.

toji found himself swallowing reflexively as his skin prickled with awakening interest. “is that a promise, mama?” he murmured gruffly, not even trying to hide the roughness in his voice.

you peeked up at him through long lashes, a smile curving on your lips. “mm . . . you should know this by now. m’ a girl who keeps her promises.” burying any further suggestive replies, you cleared your throat and turned to gojo, who’d been buried under a pile of stuffed teddy bears. “alright babies, mama n’ daddy gotta’ go for a bit. gumi’s at a friend’s place, and there’s dinner in the fridge if you guys get hungry — so pretty please be good for your uncle gojo, y’hear?”

a chorus of whines follow after your words, but the kids were quickly distracted again by the siren song of more roughhousing. rose blew toji an exaggerated kiss while kenji and malachai paid both of you absolutely no mind whatsoever, already wrestling in a tangle of small limbs. gojo simply shot you a weary thumbs up from beneath his plush prison, glasses askew and hair wild as toji fought the urge to chuckle, “have fun you two. keep me posted, and please for the love of god - quit knockin’ her up, toji. i’m being attacked by three little rascals and it’s just absolutely absurd,” he jokes.

“i don’t make promises i can’t keep, satoru.”

you fished your purse and sweater from the hall closet while toji hovered close, drinking in every detail of you. suddenly he was struck by the profound urge to pull you in close and just breathe nothing but you, to lose himself in the familiar softness and strength of your embrace. but he restrained himself with an effort. all too soon they’d be able to indulge that craving for closeness, he reminded himself as you linked your fingers through his.

with a final wave to the kids and fond shake of his head at gojo’s predicament, toji guided you to the car. the simple act of opening your door and helping you in was enough to set his pulse racing, anticipation crackling in the air as your fingers tangled briefly together. electric from even the most innocent of contact.

by the time he’d slid behind the wheel, he felt ten years younger, energized by the promise of this evening alone with the woman he loved. as toji pulled out of the driveway, you were already reaching for the radio to cue up one of your old playlists, humming along contentedly as warm twilight spilled through the windows. toji cuts you an affectionate glance and reaches over to squeeze your knee - a brief, cherished moment before the magic began.

he couldn’t wait to see where it all would lead.

“so where we headed, hot stuff?” you asked, eyes sparkling with mischief as she toyed with the ends of her hair. “hopefully somewhere without a soft play area and a kids meal if y’know what i mean.”

toji snorted, distracted for a second by the way the skirt of her sundress rode up her thighs as she shifted in the passenger seat. “nah, no funzones tonight. but i can think of a few things i’d like to play with though.”

his suggestive drawl was rewarded with a scandalized laugh and playful swat to his shoulder. “you’re so gross, babe.” your eyes twinkle with amusement before flickering to the darkening sky outside. “seriously though . . . surprise me? i wanna’ be wooed. s’ been too long since you’ve had the chance to take me out. we used to do it all the time.”

kissing away the pout on your lips and squeezing your knee again, toji grinned crookedly. “i know, baby. tonight will be one to remember - i swear.”

true to his word, he bypassed all the usual dining spots they frequented as a family, instead guiding you to a cozy trattoria tucked away on a quiet cobblestone street you didn’t even know existed. he pulled up in front and turned to gauge your reaction, smile widening at the look of surprise and delight on your lovely face.

“bambolino’s?” you exclaimed, craning your neck to peer through the warmly lit windows. “toji, this place is famous! i swear geto raves about their stuffed shells every time he comes over . . like they’re life changing or something!”

“nothin’s better than your cookin’ so we’ll see. m’ a tough crowd to please.” chuckling, he cut the engine and climbed out to open your door, and you hopped out with a charming little shimmy of your hips, curls bouncing around your shoulders now. toji quite literally had to bite back a groan as images of sweeping you up onto the hood and hiking that dress up around your waist flooded his mind unbidden.

jesus, dude. maybe he felt a little too hot n’ bothered. this was a night to reconnect emotionally, not just physically. ‘keep it together, man,’ he mumbles to himself.

threading your arm through his, you allowed him to lead you to the heavy oak door. “well well, aren’t you just the sweetest.”

toji leaned over to murmur in her ear, voice low and intimate. “like i said . . . a night to remember. and m’ just gettin’ started, lovely.” he felt you shiver and had to quickly resist the urge to press an open mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot behind you ear — the spot he knew drove you crazy. but he reined himself in, offering you his arm instead. you slanted him an arch look from beneath your lashes as you took his elbow, well aware of the charged energy in the room. “you’re such smooth talker,” you teased. “but m’ callin’ you out - you gotta’ keep deliverin’ now.”

the inside of the restaurant was every bit as quaint and charming as the exterior, all warm golden lighting and rustic decor like something plucked from a cozy little italian village. your table of choice nestled in a babylon themed area, made for discreet intimacy. along with linen napkins and sparkling wine already waiting along with a single garden rose in a low vase.

as toji held out your chair for you, you leaned up to brush a soft kiss to his cheek. “this lovely, t,” you murmured, fingers trailing over the pristine white tablecloth. “really, baby . . . jus’ lovely.”

he hummed, momentarily distracted by the alluring fragrance of your signature perfume mixed with the lingering scent of baked goodies in your hair from a hectic day’s work at the bakery. “you deserve it,” he rumbled once he’d found his voice again. “. . . i know how crazy swamped you been with the kids and workin’ on side projects for the shop. tonight is strictly about you, mama. no responsibilities, no worries. just you n’ me enjoyin’ each other. like we used to do.”

your smile softened at the corners as you regarded him with open adoration. “when did all your charm come back?” you teased gently, though . . that tone was genuine. “feels like we haven’t had a moment alone in ages. hard to remember the last time you wooed me like this.”

“tonight’s special. couldn’t let another moment go by without remindin’ you exactly why you chose to put up with me.”

your expression turned impish once more. “coulda’ fooled me - i seem to recall it was you who was pushin’ lil’ ol’ me away, no?”

he formed his features into his best look of faux offense, tone full of lofty dignity. “can a man not get nervous anymore? you were stunning i was terrified — as megumi would say, your aura was just . . .” beneath the table, you could start to feel him sliding his foot forward to glide his ankle over yours, naughtiness giving him away even before your muffled squeak of surprise. toji just grinned that stupid grin at you innocently, as though not at all aware of the toe he was trailing up the delicate skin of your inner calf, “out of this world, sweetheart.”

you had to clear your throat before replying, voice husky with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “oh shut up. jus’ admit you loved me before you even knew it yet.” but despite the humor, you lashes had lowered invitingly as you let your calves part further, granting him unrestricted access.

his gaze snagged on the glimpse of your skin revealed as his foot inched higher and higher to skim the sensitive crease behind your knee. already, his blood was pounding with renewed interest, awakened by the heady combination of your pheromones and just being within your space. hmph. it was like suddenly the intimate, flickering candles and red wine he'd scoffed at earlier as a cheesy cliche seemed perfectly fitting, matching the frisson of sexual heat enkindling within him.

you spent the first part of dinner treading familiar ground - teasing n’ flirting, punctuated by conversations and easy silences that felt almost novel in your peacefulness these days. there was an ease to it, a bond between you both that couldn’t be so easily broken by the stress of soccer practices, ballet recitals or piles of laundry.

an intimacy beyond the aspects of physical that toji clung to . . . even as his vixen urges stirred elsewhere.

once appetizers had been polished off and the main courses brought out, toji leaned back in his chair and leveled you with a heavy lidded stare. slowly, he scooped up his cloth napkin and tossed it onto the table as though throwing down a gauntlet. your eyebrows rose in polite question even as a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips.

“y’know . .” toji began, voice pitched low and rough like buttered rum. “you look absolutely stunning tonight, yn. i couldn’t be more proud of the woman you are n’ i jus’ uh . .” he pauses for a moment. wow, even after six years you still found a way to steal the words right out of his mouth, “i jus’ love you — you’re the mother of my children, my heart, my everyth - ”

your breath caught audibly, lashes fluttering as you struggled not to squirm under the potent weight of his stare. still, you rallied with a sassy arch of one brow. “if we weren’t already married, i’d say you were attempting at proposing to me right now, toji.”

“aye, m’ tryin’ t’be sentimental here, lady,” toji chuckled, the sound impossibly intimate amidst the hushed ambiance of the cozy trattoria. reaching across the table, he traced a feather-light path along your forearm with the very tips of his fingers, feeling the fine hairs there rise in gooseflesh, “y’know i’d marry you a thousand times over.”

the sleek black car purred through the dim streets, a monotonous swish of the windshield wipers being the only sound breaking the heavy silence within. in the passenger seat, you gazed out the rain streaked window, city lights smearing across your face in streaks of red and gold and neon blue. the night had been magical - champagne and oysters at bambolino’s, after that there was slow dancing cheek to cheek to smoky jazz at the club down the street, and last but not least — chocolate lava cake shared and savored at the tiny candle lit dessert boutique. all the romance and luxury toji knew his beautiful wife deserved.

but now, cocooned together in the warm confines of the car, the mood had shifted into something . . . more carnal. not sure how it couldn’t have become carnal with toji’s eyes constantly flicking away from the road to steal glimpses of you. in the dim glow of the dash, he drank in the way your clingy pink dress embraced every mouthwatering curve you had, the deep v neckline offering a tantalizing view of your collarbones. and oh, the silky chestnut curls tumbled over your bare shoulders, toji’s fingers itched to suken into them, to pull her close and breathe in the familiar sweet vanilla of her shampoo as he cruised.

he inhaled subtly, your delicate floral perfume underlaid with the warm, sleep-rumpled scent of your skin filling his head with sense memories. lazy sunlit mornings tangled in egyptian cotton sheets, your hair spilled across the pillow. sweaty afternoons grappling on the living room rug like lovestruck college kids. languid twilight baths with your slippery curves pressed back against his chest. he shifted in his seat as his blood began to simmer.

as if she could read his increasingly lurid thoughts, yn turned to meet his gaze. in the shadows, her eyes glittered like black diamonds, dark and fathomless, brimming with wicked promises. slowly, deliberately, she dragged her pink tongue across her bottom lip, leaving the glossed flesh glistening temptingly. toji swallowed hard.

suddenly, the air of the car felt suffocating, the rain misted air unbearably thick and hot. toji cranked the ac, but it did little to cool his overheated skin. he stared deadahead at the surging blades, trying to ignore the rising pressure in his groin.

without a word, you lifted a hand from your lap and slid it across the center console. toji sucked in a sharp breath as your palm skated up his thigh to rest just south of dangerous territory. even through the crisp fabric of his tailored slacks, her touch burned like a brand. as your nimble fingers began to trace idle whorls and spirals, you notice toji’s hands flex around the steering wheel.

“you better get us home safe, mr. we have kids to feed,” you purred, your dulcet voice flooding the charged air between them. “wouldn’t wanna’ have an accident now, would we?” your tone was pure filthy innuendo.

toji risked a glance sideways and instantly regretted it. you looked like a temptation, the old school femme fatale, all dangerous curves and scarlet lips and come-hither eyes. he could practically hear the harps and horns of the kill bill sirens blaring in his brain as he dragged his gaze forward again, locking it on the taillights winking mockingly through the rain smeared glass.

it would be so easy to pull the car over, to say fuck it to propriety and yank you into his lap. to ruck that sinful dress up around your waist and lose himself in your pussy until the windows were disgustingly fogged. so easy to let the inferno building in his veins consume you both right there in the goddamn car.

but toji prided himself on his discipline, his ironclad restraint. you couldn’t be a firefighter without grit, without the ability to stay focused and clear headed no matter what temptations beckoned. he knew that all too well. so he kept his ass planted firmly in the leather seat, even as his body screamed for more of his wife’s wicked touch.

even if his cock throbbed persistently against his fly, inflamed and aching.

you, however, seemed to have no such compunctions about maintaining composure. heedless of toji’s grip on the wheel, you unbuckled your seatbelt and twisted in your seat to face him. in a move that nearly short circuited his brain, you drew one endless leg up onto the seat, making the hem of your dress ride up to reveal the lacy edge of a sheer white thigh high.

toji’s mouth went dust dry. “what’re you doin’?”

“gettin’ comfortable,” you replied airly, but the devilish quirk of your painted lips gave away the game. slowly, you trailed a fingertip along the inside of your thigh, the back of your hand just barely grazing the tent in toji’s slacks as you did so — making him hiss out a breath between his teeth.

“quit playin’ wit’ me, yeah?”

you hummed, unconcerned, and continued her leisurely exploration, tracing idle patterns on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. “i’d rather you play with somethin’ else — i mean, you said it yourself.”

toji’s foot pressed down on the accelerator as if by it’s own volition, the car surging forward through the fuzzy soft darkness. toji's heart beat in time, a primal drum urging him to get the fuck home, where he could strip his vixen of a wife bare and remind you where teasin’ got you.

remind you how good he could make you burn.

your throaty chuckle broke him from his reverie. he glanced over to see you still caressing your own thighs, a wry twist to your lips. “you’re thinkin’ about fuckin’ me, aren’t you?” you mused casually, as if remarking on the weather. “how bad you wanna’ pull this car over, bend me over the hood n’ fuck me like i know you want to.”

liquid heat rolled down toji’s spine to pool in his groin, his cock jerking ravenously in the confines of his straining zipper. “goddammit,” he bit out, knuckles gone bloodless on the steering wheel.

you bit your lip on a smirk, shaky satisfaction in your exhale. “c’mon, daddy,” you coaxed, voice husky and sex-soaked. “i can feel you thinkin’ about it . . . those big hands spreading me open jus’ f’you?”

toji couldn't choke back his groan, pressure building to a rolling boil in his veins. his whole world narrowed down to the flex of his thighs, the strain of keeping the car on the road, and the siren song of your body, your scent, your dirty fuckin’ mouth.

“i’ve been so wet all night, t . .” you continued blithely, as if remarking on the weather. “since the second you walked in from work.” you reached over to smooth a proprietary hand along his thigh, thumb still skating dangerously close to his crotch. “i jus’ wanted to drop to my knees and worship you with my mouth right then n’ there.”

toji nearly swallowed his tongue, vivid images of your plush lips stretching around his cock flooding his brain. “c’mon, baby . .”

“ — but i was such a good girl,” you singsonged. “i was patient. i kept my hands to myself through dinner, even though all i could think about was how good you’d feel inside me.” your fingers creep higher to graze his zipper, “how deep i could take this big dick in my pretty little cunt.”

“don’t make me stop this car n’ —“

“pull over,” you murmured, voice molten and dark with promise. “anywhere. i don’t give a fuck - jus’ fuck me, toji. please . . s’ been too fuckin’ long.”

your words shot through him like an electric charge, heat searing down his spine to pool gravid and pulsing in his groin. “shit’,” he bit out, dizzy, nearly delirious with the force of his want. “ well, i know better than to argue with you. go ahead n’ tell me where, baby.”

“over there,” you pointed through the smeared windshield at an empty parking lot on the right, a black gulf set back from the glistening street. “that lot. pull in.” nearly shaking with the effort of holding himself in check, toji wrenched the wheel to the right, tires juddering over wet asphalt as he whipped into the vacant lot. the moment he threw the car into park, you were scrambling into his lap, sinuous as a snake, that tight dress rucking up around your hips completely now.

toji groaned gutturally as the heat of you settled over him, the damp crotch of your panties grinding right against his aching cock. you were like a furnace through the thin satin, searing him, branding him. he bucked helplessly under the pressure, too far gone for finesse.

“shit,” panted against the shell of his ear, nipping at the sensitive skin. your little hands scrabbling at his belt, desperate, graceless. “wan’ you s’bad. been drippin’ — it hurts, daddy . .”

toji made a wounded sound as you finally freed his straining erection, wrapping slim fingers around the thick root and pumping once, slowly. you let out a broken moan at the heavy heat of him pulsing in your grip, the way he jerked and kicked against the palm, already leaking from the flushed tip.

“look at you,” you purred, running a thumb through the slippery bead of precum. you brought the digit to your mouth, sucking it clean with a low hum that vibrated straight through him. “mm, so fuckin’ hard f’me.” toji’s hands flew to your hips, gripping bruisingly tight, a drowning man clutching a lifeline. the flimsy lace of your panties was no barrier - he ripped them aside, baring the slick folds of your cunt to the humid air. need pounded behind his eyes, turned his blood to quicksilver, his bones to molten steel.

“i missed you, mama,” he rasped, throat tight, voice scraped raw. “missed you so much.” his calloused hands roam your tummy, waist, and then chest — stopping when his palms grope the full plumpness of your titties, “awe baby . . they’re so heavy. have they gotten bigger?” the casual rubbing is soon interrupted when he pulls them out from their comfortable position in your sundress, your breasts flopping out in the prettiest way.

nipples hard n’ ready to just be absolutely tended to.

“i think so,” you reply, running your hands up and down his chest, “ever since i had rose . . they’ve gotten more n’ more swollen.” it was true. that girl had been your most painful birth ever — and keep in mind, this was coming from a mother of four. your back ached, you felt uncomfortable everywhere, and your tits well . . . let’s just say it felt like carrying around bags of sand attached to your sore chest.

but you’d do it again. anything for your sweet baby girl.

“do they hurt?”

“a little bit,” and on your word, toji leans forward, taking one of your exposed nipples into his mouth as he teased the other with his fingers. you could only moan as he sucked softly, almost as if he were trying to pry somethin’ out of em’, “aah — mmph! s’ sensitive, daddy . . so sensitive.”

with a needy cry, you wasted to time to pull your panties to the side and tap the tip of him against your slit, “put it in, t . . please,” you don’t even wait for his approval to notch the broad head of his cock against your opening as he worked. he didn’t mind - not one bit. if anything, he was more eager than you. you then wrap around him, gently sinking down, sheathing him in tight, and clinging on. his head cracked back against the headrest after letting go of your nipple with a pop! - fireworks exploding behind his eyes as your silky walls enveloped him, gripped him, fluttered sweetly around his aching length like you’d been waiting for his return.

“oh my god,” you whimpered, lip caught harshly between your teeth. you looked nearly pained, brow pinched, lashes fluttering as you fought to adjust to the invasion. after all, it’s been a while. “i missed you stretchin’ me out, daddy . . missed y’re dick s-so much.”

toji panted shallowly through his nose, every tendon in his body pulled bowstring tight as he fought the feral urge to surge up into you, to seize and take and claim. his fingers flexed convulsively on your hips, blunt nails biting into the plump flesh of your ass.

“i know, i know. i feel you mama. m’ so sorry, daddy’s been neglectin’ this pussy, huh? keep makin’ yourself f-feel good,” he encouraged gutturally, thumbs sweeping over the delicate skin of her inner thighs, smearing her arousal into the creases. “mm, tryin’ to take it all i see . . always so eager to make me proud, ain’t ya’?”

with a keening mewl as a reply, you began to move, rocking shallowly, finding a rhythm. your hands braced on his broad shoulders, using the leverage to grind down, to swivel your hips in maddening figure eights. pleasure sparkled up toji’s spine, gathered in his heavy balls, pulling them up tight and throbbing against his body.

“s-shit, yeah,” he hissed, head swimming, drowning in sensation. “that pussy’s fuckin’ good, yn — always so fuckin’ good. ride that dick jus’ like that.”

you made a desperate sound, head lolling on your neck, lush mouth falling open. each drag of your warm walls had his nerve endings sparking, a livewire of ecstasy. he could feel every clench, every ripple of your ass around him, could feel you growing wetter, slicker, easing the way for faster, harder thrusts.

soon enough you were bouncing feverishly in his lap, shameless, transported. your nails bit into his shoulders through his shirt as you slammed yourself down, the wet smack of sticky flesh and her breathless cries fogging the windows. each downstroke punched the breath from his lungs, until he was dizzy with it, drunk on the feel of you, the sweat and sex musk and some dark energy radiating off of you.

“c’mon,” he growled, palming your ass, spreading you open lewdly so he could watch himself disappear into your gleaming folds, over n’ over, creamy n’ noisy. “gonna’ nut on this dick, hm? gonna’ soak daddy with this greedy lil’ cunt? my greedy fuckin’ cunt — all mine, isn’t it? say that shit.”

“y-yess, s’ all yours, d-daddy,” you panted, back arching sharply as his pelvis pressed just right against your swollen clit. that and the feeling of his hardened head nuzzling against your gummy cervix was just enough to — “m’ close . . m’ so close, baby!” he could feel you starting to tighten, starting to talk and pulse around his hammering cock. with a choked off curse, he gripped the globes of your ass and slammed you down, grinding his hips in deep, filthy circles that had your voice breaking on a sob.

“cum on that dick,” he commanded, holding her steady even as she thrashed and writhed, impaled to the root on his steel-hard length. “give it to daddy — m-make a mess on me, nasty fuckin’ slut.”

he punctuated the words with one brutal thrust, and you had no choice but to cum with a ragged wail, clenching down on him so tight he lost his vision. your cunt rippled and gushed, rhythmic waves gracefully and sloppily milking his pulsing cock as ecstasy whited out behind your eyes.

“fuck, fuck, baby, i can’t — m’ bout to cum, m’ cummin’ - aw fuck!” he choked out, and then his own orgasm was crashing through him, a tidal wave of rapture searing through his veins. he spurted long and hard, painting your trembling walls with scorching ropes of cum that had you shuddering through the aftershocks.

for long moments they stayed locked together, panting into the thick air, pulses gradually slowing. finally you shifted with a shuddery exhale, and toji groaned low in his chest as he slipped free of you in a hot gush. she collapsed bonelessly against his chest, sweat cooling on your skin, looking thoroughly debauched.

toji caught your face between his palms, tipped it up to meet her blissed-out gaze. “holy fuck i love you,” he rasped, thumbs sweeping over your tear stained cheeks, “so fuckin’ much, man - fuck.”

“me too . . l-love you too, babe.” you finished, voice a satisfied husk. a slow grin spread over your face, catlike and smug. “i can’t believe you fucked me in a parking lot.”

“you didn’t give me much choice,” he growled playfully, nipping at your jaw once, twice, three times. “my lil’ cum bunny jus’ couldn’t wait till’ we got home.”

you shivered, squirming against the twitch of renewed interest between his legs. “guess we better head back then,” you murmured. “round two in our nice comfy bed sounds pretty perfect right about now.”

toji made a low sound of agreement, already envisioning peeling her out of that sinful dress and worshipping every inch of her properly. “i can make a thirty minute drive a fifteen — that work for you?”

“y’know you didn’t have to ask that.” you clambered off his lap and they hastily rearranged your clothing, giggling like you were being caught by some mall cop patrolling the area. and then, toji reversed, pulled back onto the glistening streets, one hand resting possessively high on your thigh as the lights of the city streaked by.

soon you were pulling into your familiar driveway. toji killed the engine and dashed around to open your door, ever the gentleman as usual even after tiring you and himself out so thoroughly. hand in hand, giddy and eager, you made you way up the front walk, your heels clicking on the wet concrete.

the door swung open on a scene of perfect domestic tranquility. there on the oversized couch lay satoru, sprawled out and snoring softly, the little ones curled up safe and sound on his chest. the sight filling toji’s heart with indescribable warmth.

gingerly, you both crept closer, not wanting to wake your peaceful babies. toji gazed down at their somber faces, so innocent in sleep, and felt his throat tighten with emotion. you then settled against his side and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“we made some damn cute kids,” you whispered with a contented sigh.

“absolutely we did,” toji agreed gruffly. he turned and pressed a kiss to your hair, soft and sweet. “i love our little family so much. and you . . i say it all the time, but god, i love you more than anything, yn. i wouldn’t have them without you.”

you tilted your face up to his, eyes liquid and luminous in the low light. “take me to bed n’ show me just how much you love me, lieutenant,” you murmured against his lips.

grinning, toji swept her into a bridal carry, careful not to jostle satoru and the kids. “roger that,” he whispered back playfully. “let’s go complete operation ‘welcome home.’”

and with that, he carried his gorgeous, giggling wife down the hall to their bedroom, ready to spend the rest of the night making good on the promise that had been building between them all evening long — a promise of passion, devotion, and a love that could set the whole world on fire.

[sunboki]

— MR. FIREFIGHTER.

Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. firefighter! au, neighbors! au, coincidences, power outage.. hehe

WARNINGS. cursing? chan being a firefighter bc HELLO

AUG'S NOTES. hi hi, ya’ll wanted more firefighter! chris? me too i gotcha

In a neighborhood like yours, power outages were common. But of course, with your luck just moving here, nobody paid any mind telling you.

Perhaps that’s the best explanation as to how you ended up at a strangers doorstep, your phone’s flashlight making the entire experience look a thousand times more pathetic the longer you shifted from foot to foot.

You’d been plugging in your charger, only for your entire bedroom to fall pitch black. Initially, you assumed it was simply a broker malfunction, leading to—after carefully hobbling out to the garage—a multitude of failed attempts to ensue.

About halfway from leaving does the front door open, and upon turning around are you met with a sight pitifully breathtaking.

Blond, messy hair rests atop a well sculpted face, masculine features on tanned skin, dark chocolate eyes belonging to that of the finest sweets.

“Hello?” He asks, voice thick with an accent you deem Australian.

“Oh yeah uh, the.. the power?” Winding your index around haphazardly, the man looks you up and down (an action that shouldn’t have brought such blood to your face), glancing around and wetting his lips before inviting you inside.

Sure, he may be a serial killer, but if that man strangled you, you’re not sure you’d be too upset. Shameless, but who disagreed?

Without a word nor greeting, he slinks into a small kitchen area, leaving you to curiously investigate your surroundings. You note the huge, beige boots by the doorway, the firefighter’s hat lingering on a coat hook.

And he’s a firefighter? Good fuck have mercy.

“‘Happens a lot,” The frustratingly attractive stranger grumbles as you enter the living area, candle-light illuminating the plushness of his lips. It takes you a moment to register he’s talking, too busy reigning yourself into a sane headspace.

He hands you a small mug of tea that’s warm to the touch, beckoning you to take a seat.

“And by the looks of it,” He laughs a low, bemused laugh. “You didn’t know that…?”

“Y/n, it’s Y/n.” You introduce, sipping the steaming beverage carefully.

“Scared?”

“Mm, little bit.” Truthfully answering, you scorn your bashfulness, hating how the way he’s merely looking at you disorients every sensible article of your brain.

Reaching forward, he fondly pats your head, eyes crinkling in the corners when smiling.

Just then you abandon all hope of remaining civilized.

“There’s nothin’ to be scared of, just light some candles ‘n wait it out. Plus, it’s good sleeping conditions.”

If he keeps talking you’re certain you’ll dig a human sized hole and bury yourself in it, because of course you had to knock on his door, him who you’ve become smitten with without even knowing his name.

Before you can apologize for likely waking him up, he interjects.

“But be careful with candles. ‘Don’t wanna start a fire.”

Recalling his firefighter status, you raise your brows, leaning back into the cushions.

“You’d save me, right Mr. Firefighter?”

Momentarily, surprise etches his face.

He grins.

“Nah I’d—”

You smack his arm and he laughs—a kind of laugh that makes the entire room burst alight.

“Of course I would. And It’s Chan by the way, but you can call me Chris.”

Already getting comfortable with conversation, you rest your chin upon your hand, studying.

His mannerisms (as much as his looks could kill) are rather adorable. They’re nervous, fiddling opposed to the career he chose.

A man with a deadly duality.

Charming.

“Oh? Nickname privileges?” You mischievously pique, witnessing that shyness once more.

He covers his face with his hands, dissolving into the couch, evidently embarrassed. The urge to continue becoming irresistible.

“Say, Chris, are you flirting with me?”

Peering through his fingers, Chris’ lips pull tug upward slightly, seeming to mirror your sly attitude.

“I don’t know, am I?”

Perhaps it’s your imagination, but his voice seriously just lowered a pitch and all ability to bite back has turned to dust. And now you can certainly say your feelings are justified, especially from his eyes. Brown hues boring into you, sending your heart a thundering mess.

No, no no, don’t say that. That’s not fair.

As if on cue the lights flash awake and you spring up from your place, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks.

Barely making it out the door before Chris pulls you back around, his hand loosely grasps your wrist, stuffing a piece of paper into your palm adorning that same stupid smile you’re effortlessly falling in love with.

Inside his number is written, and more than ever you feel like a teenage girl passing notes to her boyfriend in class.

“Just in case,” He claimed, clearing his throat as if that would magically cure his noticeably pink ears.

Take it back, you’re both teenage losers fighting to see who cracks first. Nervous wrecks, red faces.

“In case my house burns down?”

“That’s a plus, yep.”

“You’re awful.”

Chris, walking you up to your door despite being a mere foot away, giggles his delight, bidding you good night. But seconds before he turns around it’s your turn to be spontaneous, and you press a soft kiss to his cheek prior to racing inside, shutting the door as quickly as possible.

Oh my god. Oh my god.

Covering your mouth with your hands in order to suppress the utter squeal threatening to break your lungs, you feel seconds from physically imploding — ignorant to the fact that outside the door, Chris is currently doing the same thing.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[thelaisydazy]

Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Locked Out

“Riley! Bad dog!”

You don’t have time to look up before a familiar German Shepherd barrels into you, knocking you to the ground and sending your keys skittering across the sidewalk. 

You sputter as the dog licks your face before a hand grips Riley’s collar and pulls him off you. You wipe the dog slobber from your face and look up expecting to see Simon, instead you see a broad man with a short mohawk, attempting to reign in the overexcited dog. 

“Sorry leannan, dinnae mean fur ‘im tae get away from me,” he said as you started to get back on your feet. 

“S’alright,” you say, brushing off your pants. You give him a quick once over. He's wearing jeans and a tight fitting navy T-shirt with the fire department’s emblem on it. 

He gives you a lopsided grin. “Lek whit ye see, bonnie?” He teases. 

Your face feels warm as you attempt to stutter out a response. 

“I'm only joking, lasso,” he chuckles at your embarrassment. He glances at the bakery door. “Gett’n off yer joab? Ye must be that wee thing the LT acts so sweet aboot.”

You stare at him for several moments, having little idea what he's saying. “I uh… I was just getting off work yeah,” you finally say. “Bakery's closed for the day, sorry.”

“Oh naw, I wasn’t look’n tae buy anyfing,” he said warmly. “Jus’ walkin’ Riley ‘ere.” He stuck a hand out. “Ye can call me Johnny.”

You shake his hand, giving him your name as well. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I don’t mean to rush off, but I need to get home.” You stick your hands in your pockets, finally registering that your keys weren’t in their usual place. You pat your other pockets before looking around at the ground. 

“Whit ye look’n fer?” Johnny asked. 

“My keys,” you say. “I think I dropped them when Riley ran up.” Your eyes scan the sidewalk before spotting the storm drain by the curb. Johnny seems to read your mind as he walks over and looks through the grate. 

“Wee charm oan it?” he asks. 

You groan. Of course your keys had fallen into the storm drain. How were you supposed to get into your apartment now? Your landlord was away on holiday and he hadn’t left a spare behind. He wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. You’d just spend the night in the bakery, but you’d already locked up for the night and no one would be back until morning. 

Johnny seems to sense your distress as he claps you on the back, knocking you from your thoughts. “Ye can stay wi’ us at th’ station house,” he suggested. “We can even get yer keys oot th’ drain fur ye.”

“I don’t wanna be a both-” you start to say but are cut off by Johnny. 

“Dinna fash!” he beamed at you. “ Nae trouble at all.”

Before you could protest, Johnny wraps a muscular arm over your shoulder and starts to guide you back to the station, grinning to himself as Riley trotted happily next to you. Simon was going to love this.

---

As a treat, here's a second one today <3

[moonstruckme]

hiii I'm just here resubmitting my request<3 so maybe r was in a fire (a small or large one, u decide), james was called and when he finds out it was her he gets sooo worried and she goes to the hospital or something? thank u!!

Thanks for requesting my love!

cw: fire, paramedics/ambulance, symptoms of smoke inhalation

firefighter!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

James starts to stand you up when the ambulance turns onto your block. 

“Jamie, don’t bother them.” You feel a cough building in your chest, but you repress it. “I’m f—fine.” It escapes on the last syllable, and you can barely look at your boyfriend as he raises his eyebrows at you, incredulous.

“Humor me,” he says simply. 

You let him pull you up this time, and he presses a kiss into your hair even though you smell like pollution. James has stripped out of his bulky jacket, but the heavy pants still hang from suspenders wrapped around his black t-shirt. The fabric swishes against your leg as you make your way over to the ambulance. 

“We need oxygen,” he says without prelude, though not unkindly, nodding at the paramedic that gets out first in greeting. 

As if to punctuate this, your throat pinches warningly, and you let out a couple of meager coughs. James’ arm contracts around your waist. 

The paramedic seems to trust his authority, nodding for her partner to get something ready in the back while she walks over to you. 

“Look here please,” she says. 

You obey, flinching slightly when she points a pen light in your eyes. James’ hand migrates up to your shoulder, rubbing lightly. 

“Any dizziness?” 

“No,” you say, coughing a bit. 

She clicks her light off. “Nausea or vomiting?” 

“No.” 

“Headache?” 

“No.” 

James cuts a look your way. “Sweetheart,” he says softly. 

“I did have a headache,” you amend, “but it went away.” 

“Chest pain?” 

“A little,” you admit. 

“Shortness of breath?” 

“I don’t…” You look to James, then feel stupid. It’s not like he knows. “I don’t think so?” 

“Coughing?” 

“Yes,” James says emphatically. 

The paramedic gives him a funny look, then asks you, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you confirm. A little cough works its way out of your lungs as if to prove it. 

James looks a bit chastised. He rubs your back, touch both firm and comforting. 

She gives you both a smile. “Come sit back here, please.” 

You follow her into the back of the ambulance, perching awkwardly on the gurney in the middle.

“It seems like you have relatively mild symptoms of smoke inhalation,” she tells you. Her partner passes her a mask, and she holds it over your face for a few seconds before letting you do it yourself. Her fingers press to your wrist. “Your eyes are irritated, but it’s a good sign that your headache went away already. There’s probably not much more we can do other than give you oxygen. Your other symptoms should ease on their own.” 

You nod your understanding, relieved even if you’d been the one saying you didn’t need any help. With James, it’s typically best if only one of you shows your worry at a time. And he’s plenty worried enough for both of you right now. 

You glance over at him, standing outside with his arms crossed. It’s doing crazy things to his biceps, and you think that usually he’d grin if he caught you checking him out like this but now he looks like he might start tapping his foot impatiently. You feel guilty for getting him in such a tizzy. 

The paramedic finishes with your pulse and follows your gaze. “That your boyfriend?” she asks. 

Your breath fogs the mask. “Mhm.” 

“He seems fairly rattled,” she notes. “I supposed it’s probably not typical to get called to a fire at your girlfriend’s place, though.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. 

You’d already been sitting out on the lawn when James’ crew had arrived, the fire already put out and your front door left open. Smoke rolled out of it in one thick, relentless wave. You still have no idea how a fire that couldn’t have been burning more than fifteen minutes had created so much. You suppose James could tell you if you asked him later. 

The others had run inside, but James had gone straight to you. His chief wanted to confirm with you that there was no one else in the home (there wasn’t) and that you’d gotten out quickly (you didn’t have a great answer for that one). Like pulling teeth, it came out that you’d fallen asleep with dinner in the oven, and it was only by coincidence that someone had called your phone and the ringing woke you up. You’d turned off the oven and dumped cupfuls of water on your flaming dinner until it went out, but the smoke had spread throughout your home and your neighbor had already called emergency services. 

This led to you having to admit you hadn’t replaced the batteries in your smoke detector, which had led to a fervent lecture from your boyfriend that you doubt you’ve heard the end of. It was only the arrival of the ambulance that had distracted him. 

The paramedic sitting next to you jerks her chin toward James. That’s all it takes to get his attention, since he’s watching you like you’re going to float away if he doesn’t keep a close eye on things. 

“You can come up here,” she tells him. 

James clambers up quickly, giving her a terse smile at half his usual wattage as she moves to let him take her place next to you. 

“Hey, angel.” He takes the mask from you, holding it to your face himself. His other hand slides down the inside of your forearm and interlocks its fingers with yours. “Is she okay?” he asks the paramedic you’d spoken to. 

“Her symptoms are minor,” she assures him. “I wanna keep her on oxygen for ten minutes or so before checking her levels, but she’ll be fine.” 

James nods in thanks, but his sigh ghosts over the shell of your ear when he leans his brow against the side of your head. The paramedics conveniently find other things to do, and you’re grateful for it. 

“I’m sorry,” you tell him quietly. 

“I think you should stay at my place tonight,” he says, matching your tone, “if that’s alright with you.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh a little. It provokes your lungs, and a cough follows. 

James winces. Kisses your cheek softly. 

“Yeah,” you try again. “That sounds good, thank you.” 

“The next time you set foot in your place, I’m going with you and installing new smoke detectors.” 

Now you wince. “Fair enough.” 

“And I don’t think you should ever cook or nap again.” 

“That seems a bit far.” 

“I dunno, I think I’m being reasonable.” He kisses your cheek again, lingering this time. “I’d prefer to wrap you in some sort of fireproofed bubble wrap, but I think this is a compromise we can both live with, no?” 

You smile, and you can’t tell if your chest hurts because of your smokey lungs or the raw quality to James’ teasing, but it helps when he smiles back. 

“What if,” you say, “you cook, and I nap. Would that satisfy you?” 

He mulls this over for a second. “For now,” he decides. “I think I’d still like to work on fire-proofing some bubble wrap in the meantime, though.”

[highvern]

Burnt Coffee

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x gn! Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Running a cafe hadn’t been as glamorous as you initially believed. You loved your job; the cozy aroma of the different roasts, the hum of the espresso machine, the foam art you tediously practiced until a cute bear face stared back from the surface of a cappuccino. But any new shop comes with quirks, like the fire alarm that goes off almost every morning. Luckily, the fire station is just across the street and you unknowingly have one of the fireman wrapped around your finger.

Warnings: coffee shop owner reader, firefighter Hoshi, pockets of angst, crying, lots of mentions of food and coffee, firefighter jihoon and his baker gf, crying, kissing

Length: ~4.6k

Note: second valentine's fic! surprise! written for the Cupid For You Fic Exchange hosted by @svthub. Happy Valentine's @idyllic-ghost / @bee-buzzez !!! i hope its the cafe au of your dreams

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“I’ve got an iced dirty chai with oat milk at the end of the bar!”

A sour-faced woman scoffs, “That isn’t what I ordered.”

“Well, is your name Samantha?” 

“No.”

“Then it isn’t your order.” 

The exchange between Seungkwan and the woman rings familiar. Sundays bring out the best in everyone it seems. But you're too busy handling the never ending line of drink tickets to scold him for poor customer service. Focusing on the machine, you pull shot after shot; inadvertently covering yourself in errant splashes of milk and coffee. The rush of the morning is still going strong but you hone into the rhythm and let your mind fall away from anything beyond the cups resting atop the counter next to you.

But as always, the steam from the milk frother continues to heat the space above; right where the over sensitive fire alarm was installed.

The shrill blaring freezes everyone in place. A few children scream in shock, making the vein on your temple throb. Your ears ring with each pulse as your head falls into your hands.

Every single morning since you opened Fika two months ago the alarm went off without fail.

And then he would show up like clockwork.

The bell attached to the wooden door chimes as Soonyoung breaks through the threshold of the cafe. Grimaced faces greet him. The shrill fire alarm with flash lights blares into the industrial space, bouncing off the walls to echo inanely. 

“Earlier than usual.” Soonyoung chirps as he saunters past the line, easily rounding the bar to access the screeching piece of junk inconveniently placed above the espresso machine.

You step out of the way, face flat and mouth tense. “Busy day.” You explain.

The alarm cuts off as swift as it started, Soonyoung stepping back to smile down at you.

“I can hang around in case. Seems like that line isn’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah, sure. Do you want something to drink?” You offer stepping back to the line of cups littering the metal counter.

“Ooo, buying me drinks already? Aren’t you presumptuous?”

The wiggle of his eyebrows is meant to be suggestive but they only make him look like he ate a mouthful of sour candy.

“Nevermind.” You huff, stepping around the man as you grab the next cup in line and start working. “Go save a cat in a tree or something.”

Sensing your waning mood, Soonyoung cuts the act. “I’ll just have my regular.”

“You know where the cups are.”

A full cup of brewed coffee joins him on the opposite side of the counter. Soonyoung plants himself in his usual chair, chin resting on his curled fist as he watches you work your magic.

On slow days he’ll chat your ear off until the fire station calls him back. But on days like today, he’s content to in silence; obsessed with the sureness of your hands, the strong pout of your lips, and the way everything seems pulled into your gravity.

Maybe he has a crush on you.

Scratch that; Soonyoung definitely has a crush on you.

And everyone knows. His supervisor, Jihoon, knows. It’s why Soonyoung is always the one to come and fix the faulty alarm in the shop. His best friend, Seokmin, knows. It’s why Seokmin and his fiancee constantly batter him with texts about when he’ll ask you on a date. If someone went to space and looked down they could see how much he likes you without even trying.

You hit a lull and Soonyoung takes his chance. “Got any special plans this week?”

“We’re doing themed baked goods on Wednesday.” You call over your shoulder.

It’s not what Soonyoung was asking about but he takes it in stride.

Your employees also know about the fireman’s feelings. It’s why Seungkwan throws a pitying look his way along with a deformed muffin. Subtle rejection tastes like blueberries and brown sugar.

“Will you save me one?” Soonyoung asks.

“Is free coffee not enough?”

“Who said I wouldn’t pay for it?”

You never let Soonyoung pay for anything at the cafe. Despite how much he enjoys free food, it always makes him feel a bit guilty. It’s why you think he only drinks black coffee with a lethal amount of sugar when in reality he’d take some fancy espresso drink any day. 

You laugh as you continue to work through the next batch of orders. “We’ll see if there are any left.”

“I’m a civil servant!”

“Serve in silence please!” Seungkwan barks, earning a few chuckles from the other customers sitting at the bar.

The back and forth continues and eventually the line dwindles to nothing as the morning lulls on. Soonyoung downs two more cups and manages to haggle Seungkwan for an overly toasted slice of banana bread with a singed corner he planned to throw out anyway.

The entire time Soonyoung watches you. Even covered in splashes of milk and coffee stains, he’s still enamored with you as you lean over the bar and jot notes in the ever expanding list of repairs and updates the shop needs.

And just when Soonyoung opens his mouth to say something, anything, the shrill beep of his phone cuts him off.

“Damn, I gotta head back.” He curses. “Just call if you need me again, okay?”

“Will do.” 

You don’t even look up as he walks towards the door.

“Satan is one the phone for you.”

“Please be less specific.” You beg Seungkwan, grabbing the receiver still on hold.

“Bakery lady.”

Steeling yourself, you unmute the phone and bring it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“I was reviewing orders for Valentine’s. You're only doing the usual? I thought we talked about special items. I already bought the ingredients so if you changed your mind it’s putting me out of money.”

“No, we need at least two dozen of the cupcakes and two dozen of the cookies on top of our usual order.”

“That’s not what the order form says!” The old crone hawks through the line.

You ask her for a moment while pulling out your laptop and settling into a seat far away from the clusters of customers still strung throughout the cafe.

Wiping your face, you stare at the illuminated screen of your computer with the order form pulled up. “I have the form on my screen right now and it clearly says—”

“I don’t care what you’re looking at, it’s not what I have on my end!”

“Are you sure you’re looking at the form for Fika on Second street?”

“I’m telling you I’m—oh.”

The deflation in her tone pulls a smirk across your lips. “Hm?”

“Alright so two dozen red velvet cupcakes and two dozen heart sugar cookies?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, I’ll have it on Wednesday.”

“Thanks.”

Click.

The table shakes with the impact of your forehead. The clatter of your mug draws attention from the few customers around but none pay much attention.

“Everything okay?” A voice asks from above.

“Great. Wonderful.” You say into the wood.

“Good. Because the espresso machine is broken…again.”

You rise from your seat, face indecipherable as you walk past the counter, through the back storage area and into the alley behind the building. 

Several seconds pass before you release a guttural scream. It's gritty, ripping apart your throat as all bubbling exhaustion breaches your lips. The noise echos between the brick walls before escaping to the sky above. Several pigeons flee to the rooftops for safety while mice and other vermin scuffle along the walls in terror.

Seungkwan watches from the door, eyes wide as you continue to belt for the trash bags and city rats witnessing your meltdown. 

Your voice fizzles as you run out of air. Closing your eyes, you take two deep breaths. Inhaling the scent of stale storm water and whatever else perfumes the back alley until the stretch of your lungs burns from the inside out.

And then you turn and walk back inside as if the entire thing never happened.

The block is only illuminated by streetlights at this hour. Not even the earliest of early birds litter the narrow sidewalk as you push into the empty cafe and begin prepping for the Monday morning rush. The smell of fresh coffee fills the air, the whir of the grinder harmonizing with the jazz playlist curling down from the speakers. 

The calm before the storm.

Slowly the first shift employees trickle in just before opening; relieving you to commandeer the office slash storage room in the back, intent on knocking out the mountain of paperwork and following up with the repair man about the alarm he said he would be back to fix last week. But first, the phone blinking with unread messages.

“This is Megan. We’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warr—”

Message deleted.

The next message is a young man reporting his credit card missing and visiting your shop. You call and let his voicemail know no one has seen anything but you hope he figures it out.

“Hi Y/N. This is Cheryl with Harmony Bakers. Just wanted to let you know I won’t be able to get that special order for Valentine’s Day. Or your regular order for tomorrow. We’ve decided to close up shop. Sorry about the inconvenience.”

The words don’t hit at first. But your brain slowly catches up to what Cheryl is saying. Canceling. She’s canceling two days before Valentine’s.

Your attempts to return her call fall flat. Six tries and all ring once before dropping into an automated message reporting her voicemail is full, no doubt from the other shops she’s also shafted with the impulsive decision. 

No holiday treats. No regular food items. No back up. No plan B. 

Failure, failure, failu—

The pad of paper littered with notes sails into the not so far wall only to slap against the plaster and slip to the ground. 

You can only focus on one problem at a time. Or at least the problem whose solution won’t send you to jail. And that means heading to the front where the day is starting to pick up.

The boys have things under control but the line is lengthening and you’re a great way to relieve the pressure. Immediately an invisible song pulls you into the rhythm of their work; drinks and food hit the end of the bar almost as fast as the orders came in.

Soonyoung comes in and waits at the counter as usual. The alarm seems to be granting mercy given the horrible state of affairs from this morning.

The customers not so much.

“God, how stupid are you that you messed up a simple order? It’s a fucking americano and you made it taste like ass.” 

The man standing at the end of the bar, hands flat on the counter in an attempt to physically dominate the space, always complains. His iced drinks are too cold, his hot drinks are too hot, the weather is bad, taxes are too high, the list continues on and on. And somehow it's always your fault. 

Usually its little barbs under his breath but today he’s out for blood and you’ve already had enough.

Your teeth grit together so hard it feels like the forced smile plastered on your face might crack them into dusk. “Like I said, I can remake it for you if you’d lik—” 

“Why would I want you to remake it? You clearly have no idea what you’re doing. Get someone else.”

“I got it.” Seungcheol steps forward. 

The older man gives him an apprehensive look. Seungcheol is harmless but he knows how to be scary when he wants to be.

“I’m gonna go…restock something…” you warble, all but sprinting to the back.

Plastic sleeves of cups and boxes of straws bear witness to your breakdown. The six am tantrum clouds in and your carefully built dam of control explodes. Hot tears streak your cheeks, dripping off the jut of your chin with every gasping breath from the knot in your throat tangling tighter and tighter. All you can hear are ugly gasping breaths as you rock back and forth in the dark. 

The sliver of light spilling in from the cracked door doesn’t register given the way your face is buried in your hands. Soonyoung has half a mind to pretend he never entered the cramped space. He’s never seen you so… small.

A shrill squeak of the hinge alert you to the new presence. Bloodshot eyes find his wide ones and you swipe at your face to hide the evidence of your distress. You go to speak but barely manage a croak before the tears come again.

“Shit,” Soonyoung whispers. “It’s okay, it’s alright.”

The warmth of his chest makes you cry harder, tears spilling onto his neck as you hide from the world. He smooths the flat of his palm across your back.

It's anyone’s guess how long you stay there. Soonyoung’s cheek rests on the top of your head, arms firm around your shoulders. The faint smell of smoke tickles your nose. Smoke and pine from his cologne. It tethers your mind, lulling the frantic breakdown and giving you something to focus on other than how horrible the day has become in the span of a few hours.

No baked goods. Horrible customers. And now you’re being held by the handsome fighter from next door with snot dripping from your nose.

Soonyoung hesitates when you shift in his hold, arms tightening for a second in case another bout of tears crops up. But you pull far enough away to send an embarrassed grimace his way before looking anywhere else.

“Sorry.” You say, turning to snatch napkins from the shelf next to you.

His hand continues to rub your shoulders as you dab your eyes and blow your nose. 

“It’s okay. That guy was a jerk.”

“I don’t care what he said.” 

Soonyoung stares in disbelief, waiting for you to continue. 

“My baker canceled on me, and the espresso machine is held together with duct tape, and there's a million other things going wrong, not to mention the fire alarm. And I just…”

Squeezing your eyes tight to prevent the moisture swelling in the corners proves unhelpful. To Soonyoung’s credit he stays silent, allowing you all the time you need to get your thoughts in order. But the hand on your back continuing to trace abstract shapes between your shoulder blades lets you know he’s there when you’re ready.

“It’s just been a rough week.” You say to the floor.

The admission lifts the ten pound weight off your chest. Soonyoung isn’t an employee you need to guarantee everything is okay to or a customer requiring a mask. He’s a…friend? It feels generous but if he was anything less you doubt he’d be where he is now.

“Is there any way I can help?”

You blow your nose into the tissue before laughing wetly. “I don’t suppose you have a magic wand, do you?”

“Just broke mine actually.” He winces sarcastically.

What’s another thing on your never ending to-do list? Along with the desperate need to buy more supplies for tomorrow, how difficult can it be to conjure artisan baked goods out of thin air?

“Actually,” Soonyoung perks. “Jihoon’s girlfriend works at a bakery. Pete’s? No, wait. Penny’s?”

“Petunia’s?”

“That’s the one! Maybe I can ask her if she can help?”

“Good luck.” You snort. “They couldn’t even fit me into their normal rotation.”

“We won’t know until we ask!” He chips, thrilled he can help.

Soonyoung jumps up, a cruel chill invading the space he once occupied. Like the sun moving behind a cloud and leaving you at the mercy of a cool breeze; there and gone before you can delve into what it means.

You hand him the order form you usually give your baker to relay to Jihoon’s girlfriend. While he steps out to ask for a miracle you focus on tallying how many cups, napkins, lids, and other miscellaneous items you need from the supply store across town. A few lone tears appear, falling without much preamble but the worst is out and stained on Soonyoung’s shoulder. You’ll get through it. With Soonyoung’s help you’ll get past everything, even if his efforts fall flat.

Seungcheol and Seungkwan confirm they’ve got things under control as you take your leave. Soonyoung is just visible in the dissipating morning fog hanging in the street. He paces the sidewalk, speaking into his phone animatedly before spotting you trying to sneak past him to your car.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” He cheers before hanging up and pocketing his phone.

“So?”

“They’ll do it! One of the other shops dropped out last minute and they have a lot of extras. Maybe not all the usual stuff but Rita said she can pull together most of the stuff on the form.”

Body frozen, you stare at Soonyoung with an open mouth and eyes wide. There’s no way he solved half your workload with one phone call.

“She also said they can try and work you into their usual orders. If that’s something you’re interested in…” Soonyoung trails off, glancing at you nervously. 

In a blink your back in his arms, squeezing him so hard your arms hurt.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” You chant into his chest.

“Of course.”

Stepping back, you blush at your own impulsiveness. 

“Um, well…” you fumble, clearing your throat you get back to the task at hand. “I need to run to the store so I’ll see you later.”

“I can come!” 

“No! I mean, you’ve already helped so much. I’d feel bad dragging you along.”

“Don’t worry about me, I'm just trying to make sure you don’t start crying again and cause an accident.”

“Okay, rude.”

Soonyoung ignores you, already strutting down the street.

“Your cars this way, right?”

“No.”

“Listen, I wanna come with you. I have nothing else to do today.”

“Cool,” You laugh, continuing the opposite direction Soonyoung headed.  “but my car is still this way.”

The drive is pleasant. You learn more about Soonyoung in the thirty minutes it takes to get across town than you’ve learned in the weeks he’s been coming to the cafe. He has an older sister, he likes to volunteer at the youth center down the street in his time off, and he cannot work a computer if his life depends on it. You also learn more about his coworker turned best friend who also happens to be the boyfriend of your new god.

“Yeah Jihoon and I started the same day. He comes off kinda cold but it's all an act.”

“Oh, really?” You laugh, pulling into a cramped parking spot.

“One hundred percent. You should see him with Rita. I never saw him blush that much until they started dating.”

“How’d they meet?”

“Funny story.” Soonyoung shares, climbing out of the passenger seat. “So the bakery she worked at before had a fire. No one was hurt and they put it out before we even got there! But we went to make sure everything was clear. Well, Rita was there and I swear it was love at first sight for him.”

“That’s sweet.”

You both make your way inside the sliding doors; Soonyoung pushing a flat cart behind you through the aisles. 

“He’s definitely mellowed out since he met her. Doesn’t work as much, thank god.”

“What about your girlfriend? Do you guys have the same Hallmark meet cute?”

“Oh! I don’t have a girlfriend.” Soonyoung mumbles, ears turning scarlett.

Your face heats as well. Whatever force compelled you to ask such a prying question revels in satisfaction to hear Soonyoung is in fact single. A tidbit of information you’ve never wondered about before.

“Sorry I couldn’t get you anything for today.” Rita says as she helps unpack everything onto the counter.

The cafe is scarce of customers, far past closing time but Rita said they’d be too busy delivering to their other customers in the morning to spare a trip to you. What's another Tuesday at the shop? It isn't like you have time for much of a social life given the million things you need to do.

“Really don’t worry about it. You're saving my life by getting me this stuff for tomorrow.”

“Well Soonyoung made a bargain I couldn’t refuse.”

You pause for a moment. Soonyoung didn't mention anything beyond the payment Rita quoted and later sent via email. Did he promise something from the shop on your behalf?

Swallowing the budding annoyance, you continue to work like nothing is wrong. “Oh?”

“I mean an entire month of covering Jihoon’s shifts? What kind of person passes that up?”

What?

Soonyoung offered to sacrifice all his free time to help you. Soonyoung who you barely know beyond the fact that he pretends to like black coffee. The man chews with his mouth open. Soonyoung who let you ruin his sweater with tears and snot from a horrible day.

“You didn’t know?” Rita asks, face full of mirth.

“Ugh, no,” you cough. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“I was shocked when he offered. He wouldn’t do that for just anyone.”

But he did it for you.

“Yeah.”

“Y/N?” 

You find Rita smiling like she knows some big secret. If you had to guess, it's probably the same thing you're realizing now.

“Soonyoung’s a great guy.”

Words fail you because you know Soonyoung is a great guy. He held you when you cried, he comes in everyday without fail to turn off the alarm, and he just sacrificed a month of his life because it would help you.

Once you and Rita unpack the remaining cookies and cakes, she takes her leave but not before dropping another wink when she spots Soonyoung approaching from the direction of the fire house.

“Rita.” he greets at the door, holding it open for her exit.

“Hosh.”

And she’s gone without another word.

“How’s it going?” Soonyoung asks, rounding the counter to join you.

“Great!” You blurt with too much enthusiasm. “Rita ended up making everything we needed.”

A second set of hands assists in packing the glass display case in preparation for tomorrow's chaos. Soonyoung listens well. Patient to a T as you direct him to tweak things just so from the opposite side of the bar.

“Thank you for all your help this week. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here to help.”

He continues to unpack the few remaining goods beneath the counter as he responds. “It’s not a big deal. What are friends for?”

“Hmm and you agree to cover all of Jihoon’s shifts for your friends?”

Leaning back against the opposite counter, you watch Soonyoung’s shoulder tense and his ears erupt into bright red. He’s so still he doesn’t even seem to be breathing at the shock of being caught. Each passing second heightens the smirk curling your lips. 

“Oh, you heard about that?” He asks into the counter.

You saddle up beside him, dropping your head until his eyes meet your own. Each inch of space you claim next to him sends him away like an opposing magnet; until your sandwich between him and the hardwood.

“Yeah, I heard.”

Soonyoung backs away nervously but not before you catch the way his eyes cut to your mouth. Who knew all it took is a smile and batting your eyelashes to make chatty Soonyoung clam up? The shyness bubbling on the edge of your conscious fizzles with the new knowledge; instead, curiosity takes its place. How much more can you make him blush? What would he do if you grabbed his hand? Or if you took a chance and kissed him?

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a crush on me?” You smile around each word.

He opens his mouth to argue but it's moot with the way you gaze at him, eyes shining with mirth.  Like you're laughing at some shared joke. Soonyoung will tell you whatever truths you want to hear if it means you’ll keep looking at him like that.

“Yeah.” Soonyoung whispers so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

“Good.” 

You step into his space with finality, chests brushing with each breath. 

“Good?” 

The edge of your teeth pinning your lip down is the only thing preventing a smile from ripping across your face as you answer. “Because I have a crush on you too.”

“Oh…” He nods, head dropping dejectedly and then it hits him and whips back up so fast his eyeballs rattle. “OH. You do?”

He watches you nod, slowly angling himself to connect your lips. When Soonyoung realizes you aren’t going to push him away, evident by the hand fisted in his sweater, he goes for it.

The curve of your lip, the breathy sigh you release into his mouth, the way you seem to go boneless with each pass are all committed to his memory. Soonyoung reminds himself to be good. That this is the first time he’s kissing you and he should be a gentleman; gentle, chaste, respectful. 

And he would succeed but you’re acting like you have no interest in any of those things. You whisper another heavenly sigh into his mouth, trailing a hand in the short strands of hair at the base of his skull forcing Soonyoung to focus on batting away the demons at the edge of his mind rather than giving into temptation.

But when you tug to angle his head better the delicious sting drowns Soonyoung so quickly he has you pinned to the counter before he realizes what's happening.

Sometime later, when your lips are swollen and the floor sways beneath you from the flood of giddiness coursing through your veins, you and Soonyoung part. The crisp air of the late night tries in vain to nip at your face but you’re too distracted by the calluses on the side of Soonyoung’s thumb and the way they rasp against your knuckles as he walks you to your car.

The cafe is in full swing by the time Soonyoung comes in Wednesday morning. 

All morning he paced across the cramped common room of the fire station. Sure you let him kiss you but what did it all mean? He knows you like him but did you like like him or just like him? Should he have asked you on a date? Would that be too forward? Did he mess things up by not immediately asking you out despite the fact he was so love drunk he ran into a pole after watching you drive off?

He fights the idea of running across the street and demanding answers. You’re definitely too busy to spare a second and tame the butterflies in his stomach. And how pathetic would he look if he asked you to explicitly dictate how you feel so no wires end up cross? And on Valentine’s day no less?

Luckily, he’s saved by the bell. Or rather the fire alarm.

He watches you work like a tornado, pausing only to smile at him the same way you did last night when he did not so safe for work things against the very counter lined with coffee cups and steaming mugs. Flashes of memory heat across his face.

You thank him with his usual coffee and one of the cupcakes you set aside just for him. Except this time his paper cup is scribbled with a heart and something else.

Be my Valentine? _Yes _ Also Yes _ YES BUT LOUD

At some point he should tell you about the sensitivity setting on the alarm and how all you need to do is nudge the tiny lever to the right if you don't want it going off every time the steam builds up. But the way you beam at him when he steals the sharpie from behind your ear and checks all three boxes on the cup makes Soonyoung decide it’s a secret he’ll keep for now.

@cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @tomodachiii @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @gyuguys @primoppang @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[pinknatural]

After googling “what to take to a stranger’s birthday party” and reading the top five articles thoroughly, the first two more than once, Castiel has determined that he should either bring candles, wine, or baked goods. 

A candle seems like a good, safe option, but the Walmart candle aisle is overwhelming. How is he supposed to know if Anna’s-friend-Dean likes oaky, woodsy smells versus lavender-linen smells? Castiel likes the one that smells like a waxy apple pie, but who’s to say that opinion is shared? What if he prefers pine, or something called Deep Twilight Mist? Castiel removes the lid for Deep Twilight Mist and smells the cream-colored wax curiously. It smells like the perfume Hael used to spray everywhere when she was eleven. He puts it back on the shelf. 

There’s a candle that smells like cupcakes. It is a birthday party, so perhaps he would like that. Castiel puts it in the blue plastic basket dangling from his arm, then puts it back on the shelf, tilting it so the label is facing perfectly outward. Maybe Anna’s-friend-Dean doesn’t like candles at all. 

Wine. Everyone likes wine. Well, unless Anna’s-friend-Dean is one of those guys who thinks wine is too feminine. Or if he doesn’t drink at all. Or if he drinks too much. Or, perhaps even worse, if he’s some kind of wine connoisseur and will mock Castiel for buying reasonably-priced wine from Walmart and then blacklist Castiel so thoroughly that he will never find a friend in this town. 

Wine and candles are too complex. But everyone likes baked goods. 

Castiel is stopped in the middle of the road, turn signal blinking to indicate that he would like to turn left into his apartment complex, when he realizes that Anna’s-friend-Dean could be diabetic. But the party is at a restaurant that specializes in hamburgers, so probably not. Hopefully not. All Castiel has to do is successfully implement chocolate chip cookies and then melt into the walls at the party. Be pleasant enough company that next time someone has a large event they allow Anna to invite him again. Go to enough social functions that he can claim to have friends and get Anna off his back. Live quietly, working at the Gas-N-Sip and writing papers about the science of Theology and perhaps even going to the library and reading secular fiction.

Castiel has no expectations of finding actual friendship at Anna’s-friend-Dean’s birthday party. Or ever, really. If he ever gets lonely, he can get a cat.

Anna thinks that Castiel and Dean will get along very well. Castiel thinks that living outside of their mother’s influence has made Anna believe in fairytales. Anna has known Castiel his entire life. She knows full well that he has never gotten along very well with anyone. 

Castiel cracks an egg over the batter. Maybe this whole baking thing will impress Anna so much that she’ll stop bothering him about making friends. 

Who knows, maybe these cookies will unlock something else to add to Castiel’s quiet life. He quite likes the idea of baking.

--

The firefighter is very beautiful. Maybe even the most beautiful person Castiel has ever seen, besides models on the sides of buildings who look so perfect they’re fake.

“You the guy who started the fire?” the beautiful firefighter asks. He puts his hands in his pockets. Castiel’s cheeks burn. Not from any fire. 

“They were just burnt cookies,” he says. “I didn’t know they would set off the smoke alarm.” In the entire building. The other firefighters are by the doors, writing things down, talking to other residents of Castiel’s building. How come the beautiful firefighter was the one who had to talk to Castiel? He sneaks a peek at the man’s arms, but they’re sadly covered by his coat. 

“You burned the cookies on purpose, then?” the firefighter raises an eyebrow. 

“Of course I didn’t,” Castiel says. The firefighter has green eyes and freckles splashed across his nose. Castiel wants him to take off his helmet so he can see what his hair looks like. 

“Right,” the firefighter says. 

“Am I in trouble?” Castiel asks. 

“No,” the firefighter says. He winks. Castiel feels his heart literally skip a beat. “Not a crime to burn cookies. Losing out on the cookies is punishment enough.”

“They weren’t for me,” Castiel says. “They were for a birthday party. Tonight.” For some reason, he wants the firefighter to know that he has a social life. Never mind if the social life was enforced upon him by his older sister.

“A birthday party? Today? Who’s hosting? I gotta fight for my honor.”

Castiel is baffled. What honor? What fight?

“What?”

“Everyone will come,” the firefighter says. He makes a pose, as if he’s flexing. “To see me and this other guy fight to see who’s the Supreme Birthday Boy.” He stretches one arm out, pointing it to the sky, then he opens his fist. “Pow! It’ll be me, of course.” He turns to look back at Castiel. His mouth is very pink. Castiel wishes he understood what words were coming out of it. 

“It’s my birthday, too,” the firefighter says after a moment, when Castiel doesn’t react.

“Oh,” Castiel says. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“I dunno. Trying to be funny, I guess.”

“Oh,” Castiel says again. Behind the firefighter, he sees that the other residents of his apartment building are filing back inside. For some reason, despite the January chill, Castiel doesn’t want to go back in. Not yet. 

“You know, usually this is the part where people say happy birthday,” the firefighter says. 

“Happy birthday,” Castiel repeats. 

“Thanks!” the firefighter beams. “So do you think I should crash your friend’s party tonight?”

“No,” Castiel says, alarmed at the thought. A firefighter, and probably a bunch of other firefighters, crashing Castiel’s opportunity to stand beside the wall, holding a cup of sprite? When Castiel shows up with store-bought baked goods? And this beautiful firefighter will point right at him and say that Castiel invited them and then Anna’s-friend-Dean will hate him forever, and probably Anna will too? “Also, he’s not my friend.”

“He’s not? Then why are you going to his party?”

“He’s my sister’s friend,” Castiel explains. “I’ve never met him. She thinks I need to leave the house more.” Too late, Castiel remembers that he was supposed to pretend he had a flourishing social life. Oops. 

“Wait,” the firefighter says. His eyes sparkle. “Are you Anna’s brother? Cas-something?”

“Castiel,” he says, with the patience of someone who has had to explain his name a million times. He narrows his eyes. “How did you know that?”

“Dude,” the firefighter says, laughing. “I’m Dean.”

Anna’s-friend-Dean is a beautiful firefighter, with green eyes and freckles? Anna’s-friend-Dean is the Supreme Birthday Boy? Anna’s-friend-Dean probably has very muscular arms, under his uniform?

“Oh,” Castiel says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” the firefighter says. 

“Winchester! Wrap it up!” one of the firemen calls from the truck. Castiel realizes that all the firefighters are about to leave, and everyone from his building is already back inside. When did that happen?

“Be there in a minute!” Dean hollers over his shoulder. When he looks back at Castiel, he grins almost shyly. “You were gonna make me cookies?”

“Yes, I--I thought it would be an appropriate thing to bring.” Castiel wonders again if Dean could be diabetic. Or perhaps allergic to something in chocolate chip cookies. Are chocolate chips made in a peanut-free facility? Maybe Castiel should’ve bought wine, after all.

“Hell yeah,” Dean says. “Whoever said that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach was dead-fuckin’-on. But, uh.”

“But?” Castiel is sure, suddenly, that Dean is about to reject him and tell him not to come to his birthday party after all. Which would be a shame, because all of a sudden Castiel wanted to go.

“My favorite dessert is pie,” Dean says like a confession. 

“Oh,” Castiel says, eyes widening. Maybe he can swing by the bakery--maybe he can look up a bakery, and then swing by it--on the way to the party. Assuming he’s still going. 

“And, uh, not to toot my own horn, but I make a pretty mean one. I actually made myself a birthday pie, and I was gonna eat it alone, but maybe…I mean…”

“Yes?” Castiel asks. Dean is slightly taller than him, so he tilts his head back to meet his eyes. Dean swallows. Castiel watches his adam’s apple bob.

“Well, I could swing by after my shift is done,” Dean says. “Bring it with me. We could share. Before we go to the Roadhouse, I mean. If you want.”

“I want,” Castiel says before he can think about it. He snaps his mouth shut. Dean brightens. 

“Great,” he says. “I’ll be back. After my shift.”

“When does it end?” Castiel asks. Dean looks at his watch. He grins at Castiel, tongue poking between his teeth.

“Twenty minutes,” he says. 

“Okay,” Castiel says. “I will you soon, then.”

“Yep,” Dean says. “Gimme about an hour, okay? And then we’ll have pie.” 

“Okay,” Castiel says. Dean turns to head back to the firetruck. “What kind of pie?” Cas calls after him. Dean turns. 

“Apple!” he calls. Castiel stands outside, in the January chill without his coat, for a long while after the truck leaves. What a strange man, making his own birthday pie. What a lovely man, sharing it with a stranger. Supreme Birthday Boy, indeed.

--

When Dean returns, in a soft flannel shirt with sleeves rolled up, revealing his magnificent forearms, his hair a spiky mess that Castiel wants to run his fingers through, he has, as promised, an apple pie. And Castiel has a present for him. 

When Dean opens it, he laughs until he almost cries. He lights it right away, and the lingering aroma of burnt chocolate chip cookies is chased away by the apple pie candle from Walmart, a bright, steady little flame flickering between them.

(ao3)

[fictionalmenxyn]

𝐀 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐦? 𝐎𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞?

Pairing: firefighter!eddie x cop!reader (fem)

Warning: light language (once mentioned ‘shit’), injury, threats, attempt arson attack, blood, reader takes a hit (stitches but NO mentions of needles) and I believe that’s all!

Summary: 118 and Y/n had been called to an accident, nothing strange. The manager of the diner said that she could smell a gas leak but they recently had that checked. Y/n asked a few questions to the manager, revealing more information. That’s when it all clicked Y/n.

--༒⚠︎︎༒--

Just another normal evening in Los Angles, while patrolling. Driving in your ford suv cop car, your radio came on. And with a familiar voice (May) it spoke “dispatch 813 P28, we’ve got a call from a person who has said there was a supposed car crash at the ‘come dine’ diner on Lakewood avenue” you nod subconsciously nod “copy that dispatch, on my way.”

You put your sirens on and head start to the scene.

You pull up already seeing Athena’s car there. You park up and hop out, putting your sunglasses on, you walked over. Seeing the 118 fire engines already there, Hen and Chimney helping some witnesses that were at the diner.

“Hey, Athen, what’s it looking like?” You approach Athen. She had her hands in her pockets as she replied “looks like the driver made a run for it after crashing, Bobby said once they had showed up, driver was no where to be seen.” You hummed “that’s odd, you think they’re injured? Looks like a bad crash..”

You look at the scene in front of you. The large window of the diner has half a car doing through it. Smashed glass everywhere, tables and chairs knocked over or broken. “Well, nobody besides the get away driver seems to be in bad shape…” you look around after Athen spoke. Seeing only a couple and a mom with her child. Only minor injuries, cuts and bruises at most. You asked “you think it’s a dui?” Athen answers “I mean, possibly? It’s half six on a Friday evening..”

Athena’s name had been called, so you were left to yourself for a moment. Sticking your hands into the arm parts of your utility vest. Glancing around the scene, you saw the 118 team by the engine. You smiled and walked on over. Seeing Buck and Ravi standing next to each other while Eddie sat on the small ledge on the engine. Hen and Chimney were at their fire ambulance patching people up as Bobby was talking with other fire captains and police officers.

You approached the three guys “hey you three.” The guys look over, Buck and Ravi almost in sync “hey.” Eddie chuckled at the two then looked at you “hey, mi amor” you smiled “hey, heard of anything from here?” Buck replied “nope, just a crash… without the driver” you nodded. Eddie asked “talked to any witnesses yet?” You shook your head “just got here five minutes ago. Athena told me she already had officers asking round” he nodded.

After some chatting a person in a retro outfit approached us. “Hi um, I think there is something up with the diner..” you raised an eyebrow “what’s wrong with it? Besides the car?” The person spoke “I’m the manager of the diner, i went back in the back to my office… something is smelling real bad in there… I think it’s a gas leak, but we just had that checked not too long ago..” the guys all geared up once again and went inside. You escort the manager to the side and out of the way. You ask some questions and chat with the manager. She told you how she saw a guy running out of the car, but he looked to be unscrewing something at the back of the car.

The guys came back out, Eddie walked over and spoke “hey, it’s a gas leak, but it seems to be unscrewed and damaged like someone went at it…” you look to the manager and she replied “nobody has been down there since the handyman had been down there..” Eddie added on “yeah, somebody left a rusty old wrench down there… couldn’t have been a handyman’s wrench..”

…A rusty wrench? Nobody had been down there? Saw a guy unscrew something at the back of his car? Gasoline? No… a gas leak and gasoline? That wouldn’t cause a fire… just yet.. but it could’ve… Your thoughts clicked on…you thanked the manager for her time.

Eddie looked at you in confusion.

You quickly made your way over to the car. You mumbled “thought so…” Athena looked over “everything good, Y/n/n?” You called out “this wasn’t a simple crash… I think this was intentional” Athena walks over “what?”

“I was with the one eighteen.. then the manager complained of a smell, a gas leak, Eddie checked it out and told me it looked as if someone had purposely damaged it. Before that I was questioning the manager; she said a guy had ran out of the car. But before he fled the scene, he was unscrewing something.” You gesture to the gas cap on the car. Athena clicked on too “maybe he had some sort of match or lighter on him?” You added “and maybe he fled because he saw first responders.” You jog over to the manager, “hey sorry to bother you again, but can you tell me when you saw the guy run out the car?” The lady responded “around six twenty..” you gave her a small smile and thanked her. You then jog over to Eddie.

“Hey babe, around what time did you and the team arrive here?”

“Uhh I’d say around six twenty? Why?”

It all clicked together, “this is an attempted arson”

“Wait what? Y/n! What?!”

You jog back over to Athena, “yep, we guessed correctly, one eighteen arrived right as the suspect would’ve caused the arson.” Athena nodded and headed over to Rick and explained our theory.

You walked over to Eddie, you explained everything you and Athena had just discussed. You stood next to Eddie and now Buck. Glancing around at the crowd that had formed over the time you had been there.

You notice a guy, looked about early twenties maybe late teens. A black hoodie and dark jeans. You saw a large stain on the bottom of his jeans. He looked fidgety or on edge, more like… suspicious.

You tilted your body towards Eddie “hey, don’t make it suspicious, but the guy in the crowd, black hoodie, dark jeans, looks young 18 maybe 20 at most.. looks fidgety, he’s got a big stain at the bottom of his jeans..” Eddie and Buck glanced over. Buck replied “yeah, he seems off, huh?” You nodded in agreement. Eddie suggested “you gonna go over and talk to him?” You nodded “worth a shot..”

You casually made your way over; as you got close enough the guys saw you. He panicked and darted off in a direction. You called out “we’ve got a runner!” Athena looked over. She saw the guy running, also saw you hot on his tail. Athena started to run too, following you both.

You pressed your thumb on the radio “dispatch, this is Sargent Y/l/n, got a possible suspect of the diner accident on Lakewood avenue, he’s on the run. Male, late teens early twenties, black hoodie, dark jeans with large stain on the bottom, pale skin brown hair.” You call out “hey! You won’t be able to run forever!”

You kept chasing the possible suspect. He caught himself on his foot and miss stepped; giving you an advantage. You practically throw yourself on him, taking him to the ground. He tried to fight you off of him, he threatened “get off me, I’ll- I’ll hurt you!” You reached for your cuffs “not today, you’re in custody of attempted arson” the guy lashed out. He reached in his hoodie pocket. Grabbing a small pocket knife, waving it around as he tried to get you. You tried your best to dodge it.

Feeling a slight sting in your face, you felt blood trickle down your cheek. You look down at the guy. He threatened again “get off! I will do it again!” “You will not-”You tried to grab his wrist, sadly he was quicker.

You felt a sharp burning sensation in your arm. You see you have been stabbed, lucky for you, it was only the tip of the blade. You look down at the now ripped arm of your shirt, along with a dark patch forming against the navy of your uniform “shit…”

You heard a voice “Y/n/n!” Athena ran over just in time with two other guy police officers. You got up as the two guys took over and detained the guy. Athen looked you over “he cut you…” you nodded. “He got me in the arm too.” Athena saw the blood that started to trickle down your arm.

Athena pressed her thumb on her radio “this is Sargent Grant, we’ve got an injured officer, Sargent Y/l/n, she’s been stabbed in her arm and a cut to her cheek.” We could hear Bobby through the radio “bring her back to the scene, Hen and Chimney will take a look at her.” “Roger that, Cap.” You both head back to the scene.

Eddie spotted you quicker than anyone. He ran over, he held your uninjured arm “baby, you alright?!” You nodded “yeah, it’s not too bad, it was just the tip of a pocket knife.” Eddie still looked concerned, you couldn’t blame him.

You were now sat on the ledge of the ambulance, Hen is stitching your arm up while Eddie watched over her shoulder. Chimney asked “so you got the guy now though, right?” You nodded “after I tackled him to the ground, and his exchange-” gestures to the stab wound and cut to your cheek “-Athena and two other cops came over, they took over as Athena did a once over on me.” Chimney and Hen nodded.

Once Hen was done, you thanked her and stood up. Now only having one long sleeve on your navy uniform shirt. You looked to Eddie “see, I’m all good now, Ed, I promise..” you open your arms for him. Which he gladly walked into.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he leaned down and wrapped his arms around your waist. He whispered “you’re a badass for taking that guy down, but still gotta be careful, love.” You chuckled softly and replied “it’s all apart of the job, besides I didn’t know he had a pocket knife on him.” He hummed in agreement.

“Well expect some tlc from Christopher and I tonight, yeah?” You smiled at his comment “yeah…” he smiled.

He leaned closer to your face, “alright, I’ve gotta head back to the station, see you in four hours?” You smile and nod “see you in four hours, my love.”

He glances to your lips momentarily, then he leans in and kisses your lips softly for a moment. Savouring your kiss, he then pulls away reluctantly. “I love you, see you later…” you smile and respond “I love you too, babe.” He waved then jogged over to the fire engine. You wave to the rest of the team before heading back over to your cop car and getting in it. Continuing the rest of your shift with one long sleeve and a new set of stitches. You pulled off and continued the rest of your four and a half hours of your shift.

All you could think about was your tlc that Eddie mentioned. Most likely a movie night in, eating popcorn or candy with your favourite boys, Eddie and Christopher…

--༒⚠︎︎༒--

[saveyourblood]

Pretty Boy - Ch 1 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz x Reader)

Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you're an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them. Originally posted to AO3

A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Swearing (if that even counts).

You’re ending the first half of your 24-hour shift the same way you always do—dinner with the team. Well, at least that’s how you try to end the first half of your shift. Of course, that’s also assuming that both the fire and medical teams are actually at the station and not on a call.

All things considered, this probably only happens once a week, if that.

When it works out, though, it’s a good time. You already spend a lot of time in the rig with Hen and Chim, being an advanced paramedic and all. When it comes to the firefighters, though, you aren’t as well-versed, so it’s nice to have a weekly ‘getting to know you’ session. It seems like these days, it’s a 50/50 shot if they’ll make it to next month’s dinner.

The firefighting crew at the 118 is a revolving door of macho men. When you first started, it was Chim, Tommy, and Sal. Chim became a paramedic, so he didn’t exactly ‘leave.’ Sal got relieved of duty, so he didn’t really have a choice. Tommy left, but for something better. Maybe it isn’t so much the job that makes people leave; maybe being a firefighter at the 118 is a stepping stone for bigger and better things.

There is one firefighter that, if he left, you wouldn’t be heartbroken. In fact, it would probably make your shifts a whole lot better.

Evan Buckley, aka ‘Buck.’ God, even thinking his name makes you want to gag a little.

He’s a decent kid, but he’s just that: a kid. He’s a Probie; he’s only been on the job for about 4 months, and no one would assume otherwise. His heart is in the right place, but his brain hasn’t caught up yet. You’re starting to fear it never will.

“I know exactly what that polite, distant smile means: she’s bored,” Chim says as he leans over the counter, pulling you right out of your thoughts and back into reality. “This woman is so far out of my league, but she’s once-in-a-lifetime… I can’t let her go.”

“Lots of fish in the sea,” Bobby, your captain, chimes in. He leans over to pull something out of the oven.

“Not with the bait he’s using,” Hen remarks as she walks by. Her arms are full of dishes to set the table with.

“Amen, sister,” you agree, hot on her heels. She gives you a small smile and hands you the plates, which you accept with a smile of your own.

“Cruel, but true,” Chim sighs. “I met her on this new dating site, just for cops and firefighters, RomancingTheUniform.com. She’s an adrenaline junkie, so foreplay is me telling her stories about running into burning buildings and jumping into icy lakes and…”

“I’m sorry, wait,” Hen interrupts, “remind me: when was the last time you ran into or jumped over anything?”

“...I embellish a little.”

“Oh, noted.”

“So is she a cop or a firefighter?” You ask.

Chim gives you a look. “Why would she be?”

“Well, you said the website is for cops and firefighters,” you repeat. “Doesn’t that make her a cop or a firefighter?”

“Okay, it’s not just cops and firefighters,” Chim cedes, “it’s also for people that want to date cops and firefighters.”

“Ohhh,” you smile, “so cops, firefighters, and badge bunnies. What could possibly go wrong?”

“I’m telling you, the uniform is a major aphrodisiac,” Chim continues as he brings a salad to the table.

“Yeah, hence the term ‘badge bunny,’” you remark.

The conversation is interrupted by one of the engines backing into the station. You probably should have noticed it was gone, but frankly, as long as your rig is in the bay safe and sound, you don’t care what the meatheads are up to.

Speaking of meatheads…

“Oh good, PB is back,” you remark sarcastically.

‘PB’, aka ‘pretty boy,’ aka Buck. You started calling him Pretty Boy his first day, and over the months, you shortened it. He jogs his way up the stairs and dips a finger in the communal spaghetti bowl. You roll your eyes and take a sip of your coffee.

“Wash your hands!” Hen scolds as she pulls the bowl out of his reach.

“What if there’d been a call?” Bobby asks as he brings the last dishes to the table.

“I was in the neighborhood!” Buck defends himself. He takes one of the plates from Bobby’s grasp, but instead of passing it around like a normal person, he starts eating the food off the plate with his dirty hands. Sometimes, you wondered if he was raised by a pack of stray dogs.

Bobby starts lecturing Buck, and you smirk with a little satisfaction. Bobby’s going to write him up, and truthfully? It’s a long time coming.

“First infraction, two more, and you’re out,” Bobby says as he steals back the plate. “Wash your hands.”

“You know, you're not helping him by going easy on him,” Chim says once Buck is out of earshot.

“He just needs a little direction,” Bobby replies.

“I’ll remind you of that when he gets us killed,” you mumble.

The alarm bells start to sound through the station. Everyone groans, including yourself. So much for dinner.

Chim decided to catch a ride with the boys in the truck, so that leaves you and Hen in the rig.

“I’m sorry, dispatch,” you say into the radio, “118 RA responding: did you say the baby is in the wall?”

“10-4, 118,” the dispatcher responds. “Caller reports hearing a baby crying in his walls.”

“Copy that, 118 RA clear,” you say before hanging the radio back up. “Well, this will be fun.”

“You think you can play nice with Buck?” Hen asks, a smirk on her face.

“Hey, I’m always nice,” you reply.

“Not to him!” She laughs. “Don’t think I didn’t see you roll your eyes the second he got back to the station.”

“I can play nice and still think he’s a raging idiot,” you defend. “Besides, since when are you his biggest fan?”

“Trust me, I’m not,” Hen chuckles. “And I love you, but you don’t know how to play nice.”

“Why be the bigger person when you can be the bigger problem?”

That remark gets a full belly laugh out of Hen. “Yeah, that sounds like you.”

Hen parks the rig behind the engine in front. The boys come pouring out immediately, grabbing various tools and equipment. You make your way to the back of the ambulance, tossing Hen her med bag before picking up your own.

You follow the rest of the crew upstairs, and before you know it, the five of you are standing in some random guy’s apartment, listening for something that probably isn’t real.

“Look, I'm telling you, I heard a baby crying,” the man says. “Someone flushed a baby down the toilet.”

Hen picks up a bong off the counter and gives the man a look.

“I’m not high.”

You both raise your eyebrows.

“Okay, I’m pretty high, but it’s Sativa,” he says. “It makes you happy. It doesn’t make you hallucinate.”

“It could’ve been a rat,” Chim shrugs. “Sometimes rats get stuck in the walls.”

You frown. At the end of his sentence, you swore you heard a cooing sound.

“Shh,” you say to everyone, walking over to the bathroom. “Did you guys hear that?”

They're hot on your heels, watching as you take your stethoscope from around your neck and put it into your ears. You place the bell on the wall and wait. When you hear nothing, you begin rapping your knuckles on the tile until you do. Once again, it’s a faint cooing sound, not unlike a baby.

You then knock your knuckles on the wall until you hear a hollow sound. You take a marker from your pants pocket and mark an ‘x’ over it, knowing the space behind it is hollow. You take the stethoscope out from your ears.

“We need to open up this wall,” you say, pointing to the ‘x.’

“No, we’re being punked,” Chim disagrees. “It’s a tape recorder or something.”

“Maybe not,” Hen says, stepping forward. “Maybe a mother gives birth on the toilet and flushes it.”

“Okay, first of all, that's awful,” Chim says. “Second, do you know how pipes work?”

“If the baby is premature, its bones can bend and compress like sponges,” Bobby mentions. “We need to get in there.”

“Stand back, I got this!” Buck says, swinging his fire axe over his shoulder.

He runs up towards the wall with full intentions of swinging. Hen and Chim move out of the way and shout while Bobby tries to grab him. Ultimately, you’re the one to stop him, and you do it by placing both hands on the axe.

“Hey! Did you even stop to consider that you might hit a baby?!” You shout, adrenaline pumping through your bloodstream.

Buck just stares at you with wide eyes.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” you spat, pushing the axe out of the way.

“Buck, go get the saw,” Bobby directs.

“Try to find some common sense while you’re down there,” you call after Buck as he walks out.

“Nice catch,” Bobby says, looking at you.

“How nice of me to save the baby from one of the LAFD’s finest first responders,” you reply bitterly.

You can’t help but look at Hen, who quickly looks away. Her avoidance gives you a small sense of victory because this? This shit right here? This is why you can’t play nice with Buck. His head is screwed on backward, and it can get people killed. Playing nice isn’t going to fix that.

Thankfully, Bobby takes the saw from Buck once he brings it up. He makes a few small cuts in the wall before he and the other boys are pulling at the drywall. They quickly expose a massive pipe running behind the toilet.

“That thing is huge,” you remark to Hen.

“It probably connects a bunch of the toilets in the units above this one,” Hen returned.

“So… even with the water turned off…” you start, a sense of dread filling your stomach.

“If someone above us flushes the toilet, it could drown the baby,” Hen finishes. Almost before she finishes the sentence, she’s running into the hall, yelling for people not to flush their toilets. The boys make a few cuts into the pipe, and in no time, they’re taking it to the floor.

“Guys, I can see the head,” you say, joining them on the floor.

They make a few more cuts until the pipe is one straight segment.

“Get the head out,” Chim instructs.

“Yeah, you gotta push from below,” Buck chimes in.

You try that, but the baby isn’t moving. You look to the corner, then at Buck.

“Bring me the defibrillator,” you instruct clearly.

Buck scrambles over, picking up the case.

“Just the lube, Buck,” you rephrase, but he’s already coming back with the whole thing.

“Take it, take it,” Buck says, passing it off to you.

You let out a frustrated sigh before grabbing the lube out and tossing the rest of it to the side. You pour some lube on the baby’s head, then down by its feet.

“Work that in,” you tell Chim.

You move your index finger around the circumference of the pipe, brushing the baby’s legs with lubricant as you do so. Then, you gently apply pressure to its feet, and slowly, you can feel it move forward.

“This is gonna be a scoop and run,” you mumble.

“Hen, get the ambulance ready,” Bobby tells her. You’re not sure when she got back, but when you look up again, she’s gone again.

Slowly, the baby’s head emerges from the pipe, and the rest of her body follows.

“She’s not breathing,” you quickly note, “starting CPR.”

You place your index and middle finger in the center of the baby’s chest and press down fast and hard. “Looks like her airway’s obstructed.”

“Buck, get the bulb syringe,” Chim demands. A few seconds pass. “Buck, come on!”

“I’m coming!” Buck barks back, clearly in a panic.

“Come on, pretty girl,” you say quietly as you continue compressions. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Buck returns with the bulb syringe and uses it, but it doesn’t help.

“Dammit,” you curse. “You’ll have to try a blind finger sweep.”

Buck looks at you, then Chimney, then the baby, then back at you. “Me?”

“You gotta learn somehow,” you remark. “It’s easy: just turn her head to the side, curl your pinkie, and see if you can scoop anything out.”

Buck is hesitant initially, but he eventually does as you tell him. It takes a few seconds, but he manages to clear the obstruction, and the baby begins crying. Everyone laughs with relief.

“Let’s get her wrapped up,” you say, reaching for a towel.

The four of you rush down the hall, you with the baby in your arms. The pit in your stomach returns.

“No one held the elevator?!” you yell.

“Dammit,” Chim curses.

“Give her to me,” Buck says, nodding to the stairs.

You stare at him.

“Come on, I’m twice as fast,” Buck pleads.

“Screw this up, and I’ll kill you,” you threaten before carefully handing her over.

Buck takes off down the stairs, but you follow after. There’s only so much that can happen in a few flights of stairs, but you aren’t willing to risk it.

“I got you,” Buck says to the baby, “you’ll be okay.”

A faint smile crosses your face. Maybe Buck isn’t so terrible after all.

“Come on, move it!” Buck shouts as you both make it out of the lobby and out to the rig.

You climb into the ambulance with him, but before either of you can even sit down, you hear someone yelling to wait. It’s not just anyone: it’s LAPD Sergeant Grant, or as you’ve heard Hen calls her, Athena.

“Wait, is that the mother?” Buck says, looking at the young woman with blood-stained pants in someone’s arms. “Yo, screw her! Look what she did!”

Never mind. Buck is still terrible.

“Sit down and shut up!” You yell at Buck. “This is not your call! She is a child, and she’s bleeding out!”

“Look what she did!” Buck repeated.

“Come on, let’s get her up here,” you say to Athena and the man carrying the young girl, disregarding Buck’s protests.

Bobby and Chim made it down, so they help haul the young girl up into the rig. Chim stays at the head while Bobby sits next to Buck, the spot you were about to sit in mere moments ago.

“If this baby dies, it’s on you,” Buck says, staring at Athena.

“Stop talking, Evan,” you snap as someone closes the ambulance doors.

Using his actual name seems to shut him up.

“What’s your name, honey?” You ask the baby’s mother as you cut away her shirt to place EKG leads.

“Marika,” she whispers. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know you’re scared, Marika, but you just have to keep breathing for me, okay?” you say. “My friend Howie is going to start an IV so we can give you fluids and medication. You’re bleeding a lot, so I have to do what’s called a fundal exam, okay? I have to press on your stomach to make sure your uterus is contracting back down normally.”

She stares at you, eyes filled with tears, before eventually nodding.

Using one hand to stabilize over the pubis, you begin pressing down the other into Marika’s stomach, a few fingerbreadths below her belly button. She lets out a few whimpers. You don’t feel the fundus, or the top of the uterus, like you should.

“Marika, you’re bleeding a lot because your uterus isn’t contracting. I have to make it contract by doing a fundal massage. It won’t feel that good, but it could save your life.”

Once again, Marika looks at you before nodding. This time, she closes her eyes.

Using firm and consistent pressure, you push one hand down where the fundus should be and make small circles. Marika lets out a few more cries of pain. You notice that, after a few minutes, the bleeding starts to slow, and her uterus firms up beneath your hands.

“Hospital ETA 5 minutes, hang in,” Hen chimes in from the ambulance's cab.

“Something’s wrong,” Buck says, staring at the baby in his arms.

You quickly move over to him. “Put her in your lap so I can see.”

Buck listens, moving away the towel so you can look at the baby. She’s cyanosed around the lips. You flip open a compartment and pull out the neonatal ambu bag. You hand it to Bobby, and you don’t even have to tell him to start bagging.

“I’m so sorry,” Marika says. “Is she gonna be okay?”

Bobby squeezes the bag every other second, delivering a breath to the baby. Her color is starting to look better, but she isn’t very responsive.

“Here, let me try something,” you say.

You gently pick up the baby and set it on Marika’s bare chest. After a few moments, the baby begins to move and cry out.

“Oh my god, why did that work?” Marika asks, wrapping her hands around her baby.

“Skin-to-skin can help babies regulate bodily functions, like temperature and breathing,” you reply as you place a towel over them.

You look over to the men sitting next to you. Bobby gives you a nod, and Buck avoids eye contact, but you can tell that he’s pissed. Fuck him, he doesn’t know his head from his ass anyways.

Once the rig pulls into the ambulance bay, you and Chim help the ER staff get the gurney out of the ambulance. Bobby and Buck follow suit, only Buck tries to follow them into the hospital. Bobby stops him before he does.

Bobby gives Buck some lecture about how we did our jobs, and now it’s their turn; it’s the speech every overly excited first responder gets at least once at the start of their career.

A cop car pulls up, and Athena comes out. She clearly found the person she was looking for, because she starts yelling at Buck.

“You do not get to choose who lives and who dies,” she lectures.

“Really? Because I was under the impression that kind of was my job,” Buck retorts.

You could seriously slap him.

“That mother was no less of a child than her baby,” Athena continues yelling, pointing a finger at the hospital. “You’re gonna get someone killed.”

“Well, maybe, but not today,” Buck says with a cocky head tilt.

You laugh humorlessly. “You know what, Pretty Boy?” you say, turning to Buck.

Fuck it. Bobby won’t put him in his place, and Athena isn’t allowed to, so you take matters into your own hands, literally.

Before you even fully comprehend what you’re doing, you’re wrapping a hand around Buck’s throat and pushing him against the ambulance. You aren’t choking him, but you don’t move your hand because keeping it there is your only leverage.

“I’m getting real tired of this tough guy bullshit,” you growl, your face only an inch from his. He’s quite a bit taller than you, but when you bounced him off the rig, his footing faltered, so he’s crouched at your eye level. “You wanna get real, Evan? You didn’t do a goddamn thing today except get in the way. While we were busy saving lives, you were shitting your pants and dropping the ball, not exactly what a tough guy is supposed to do.”

“Okay, enough,” Bobby says, trying to break it up. You’re far from finished, though.

You move your hand from his neck, but only so you can point it in his face. “You aren’t a god — you don’t decide who lives! You didn’t even save a life today: we did, because you kept fucking up. And if you keep fucking up like you did today, you definitely will kill someone, and your little jokes and midday booty calls and your shitty little grin won’t change that!”

Bobby ends up physically pulling you away while Athena makes some room between the two of you.

“Aren’t you going to arrest her or something?” Buck says, rubbing his neck. “She assaulted me!”

“She didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” Athena counters. “I promise you, Buckley, the next time you screw up? It’ll be your last.”

Athena casts Bobby a glance before she walks away.

“You,” Bobby says, looking at Buck, “in the truck. Now.”

You start to walk over to the passenger’s side of the cab when Bobby calls after you.

“I want you in my office the second we get back,” He orders.

You clench your jaw. “Yes Captain.”

[kisses-for-you]

oblivious - e. diaz

eddie diaz x fem!reader

summary: eddie struggles with his growing feelings for you while his friends encourage him to confess.

w/c: 2.4k

Eddie Diaz stood near one of the fire trucks, his hands resting on the warm metal as he wiped the sweat from his brow. It had been a long day filled with calls, but the laughter of his friends filled the air, momentarily pushing away the stress of the job. However, Eddie's mind was somewhere else entirely — on you.

You had become a regular presence at the station since you started volunteering with the local community program. Your infectious laughter and compassionate heart drew everyone in, but for Eddie, you were something more. He admired your kindness, your determination, and the way you could make everyone smile, even on the toughest days. Yet, as he watched you joke with the others, Eddie felt the familiar knot in his stomach. He hadn't told you how he felt yet and it was becoming harder to keep it to himself.

"Hey, Eddie!" Buck's voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "You with us, buddy?"

Eddie looked up, trying to shake off the thoughts that had enveloped him. "Yeah, sorry. What's up?"

Buck exchanged a knowing look with Chimney and Hen. "We were just talking about how you've been looking at Y/N lately. You sure you're not in love with her or something?" Buck teased, a wide grin on his face.

Eddie felt his cheeks heat up at the mention of you. "I'm not in love with her," he said a little too quickly. "I mean, I like her, but…"

"But what?" Hen leaned forward. "You're saying that like it's a bad thing. She's amazing!"

"Exactly," Chimney chimed in. "You should go for it! Tell her how you feel."

Eddie felt trapped under their gaze, glancing over to where you were chatting with Bobby. You seemed completely oblivious to the attention you were receiving. "I don't know, guys. It's not that easy," he muttered.

"Why not?" Buck pressed. "You're a firefighter! You run into burning buildings for a living. How hard can it be to talk to a girl you like?"

"Have you ever tried talking to a girl you really like?" Eddie shot back. "It's not the same as saving someone from a fire."

"Fair point," Buck admitted, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "But still, you've got to give it a shot."

Just then, you turned toward them, your bright smile lighting up the room. "What's going on over here? You all look like you're plotting something."

"Just trying to convince Eddie to make a move," Hen said with a wink, her voice low but playful. Eddie felt his stomach drop. "Hen!" he hissed, but it was too late.

Your eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Make a move?" you echoed, tilting your head slightly. "On who?"

"Oh, you know… just some hypothetical situation," Eddie stammered, scrambling for a plausible excuse. "Like, uh, if someone were to have a crush on a certain volunteer… not that I do!"

The others snickered, and Eddie shot them a warning look. You, still oblivious, laughed lightly. "Well, if that someone needs any advice, I'm all ears," you said with a playful smile before returning to Bobby, leaving Eddie flustered.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this," he groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"C'mon, Eddie! Just talk to her!" Buck encouraged.

"Yeah, otherwise, you're just going to keep suffering in silence," Chimney added, clapping him on the back.

Eddie took a deep breath, his heart racing at the thought of confessing his feelings. Maybe it was time he finally told you. He glanced back at you, now once again chatting with Bobby, your eyes sparkling with laughter. If only you could see how much he cared for you.

The teasing continued throughout the evening, with Buck taking the lead. "So, Eddie, do you have any grand plans for your 'hypothetical crush'? A romantic dinner? A moonlit walk? A firehouse dinner date?"

Eddie groaned. "I don't know, Buck! Maybe I'll just write her a letter or something."

"Now you're talking!" Hen exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "You could even leave it in her car or something! Super romantic."

"Yeah, just like in the movies," Chimney agreed, clearly enjoying teasing Eddie.

Eddie was torn between embarrassment and amusement. "You guys are ridiculous," he said, shaking his head with a chuckle.

The night wore on but Eddie's mind was elsewhere. As they wrapped up their dinner, he watched you as you helped Bobby clean up. He genuinely thought you were the most beautiful person he'd ever seen, and he felt a wave of longing wash over him.

"Okay, Eddie. We're heading out for the night," Buck said. "You coming with us?"

"I think I'm going to stick around for a bit," Eddie replied, feeling a mixture of excitement and dread. "I want to talk to Y/N."

"Good luck, Romeo," Chimney teased as he and Buck grabbed their things then headed for the door.

As the station quieted down, Eddie approached you as you were wiping down the counter. "Hey," he said, his voice low.

"Hey, Eddie!" you said, looking up with that warm smile that made his heart flutter. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to… um…" Eddie stumbled over his words, suddenly remembering all of his friends' teasing, making him even more nervous. "I wanted to thank you for everything you do around here. You make this place so much better."

You blinked in surprise, your smile widening. "That's so sweet of you to say! I really enjoy being here. You guys are like family."

Eddie chuckled softly at your words, giving a small nod. "And I really appreciate it. You've made a difference in my life."

You looked down for a moment, a hint of shyness creeping into your expression. "You know, I was thinking about how much fun we all have together. It's nice to have such good friends, especially with everything going on recently."

"Yeah," he agreed, his heart pounding. "I've been thinking about that too."

You looked back up at him, your brows slightly furrowed in thought. "Eddie, is something on your mind?"

This was it. Eddie took a deep breath, his heart racing as he prepared to finally tell you how he felt. "Y/N, I-"

Just then, the door swung open, and Bobby stepped in, interrupting Eddie. "Hey, guys! Did I miss anything?"

Eddie felt his chance slip away, frustration boiling under the surface. "No, just- nothing," he muttered, trying to regain his composure.

Bobby raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the tension. "You okay, Eddie?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Eddie replied, forcing a smile. "Just talking."

You looked between the two men, your brows once again furrowed, but this time in confusion. "We were just talking about how much I enjoy being here," you said, your tone light.

Bobby nodded, not knowing he had just interrupted and ruined Eddie's confession. "That's great! The more, the merrier. We're lucky to have you."

As the conversation shifted to a different topic, Eddie felt a sense of defeat wash over him. He couldn’t believe he had lost his chance. Maybe he should just give up. After all, you didn't even seem to notice his feelings. But as the night went on, he realised that he couldn't give up that easily. He had to find a way to express himself, no matter how hard it was. Maybe he would take the advice of his friends and write you a letter. It seemed like a good way to get his feelings out without the immediate pressure of a face-to-face conversation.

A few days later, Eddie decided to act on his plan. He spent his lunch break writing a heartfelt letter, pouring out all the emotions he had bottled up for so long. He wrote about how much you meant to him, how you brightened his days, and how he admired your strength and compassion. Once the letter was finished, he folded it neatly and slipped it into an envelope. He sat for a moment, contemplating whether he should really go through with it. But then he thought about his friends’ words and your smile, and he knew he had to try.

Later that evening, as you were leaving the station, Eddie took a deep breath and approached you. "Hey, Y/N! Can I talk to you for a second?"

"Of course!" you replied, eyes lighting up with curiosity.

Eddie fumbled with the envelope in his pocket, his heart racing. "I… I wanted to give you something." He pulled out the envelope and handed it to her.

You looked surprised, your eyebrows raising slightly. "Oh! What is it?"

"Just read it," Eddie said, trying to keep his voice steady.

You nodded, your fingers trembling slightly as you opened the envelope. As you unfolded the letter, Eddie held his breath, watching your expression shift from curiosity to surprise, then finally to something softer. Your eyes scanned the paper and Eddie could almost hear the rapid thumping of his own heart echoing in his ears.

"Eddie…" you began, your voice barely above a whisper. Your gaze flickered from the letter to his face, and he could see the mix of emotions swirling in your eyes — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something else he hoped was excitement.

"Do you really mean all of this?" you asked as you folded the letter carefully.

Eddie nodded, his throat dry. "Yeah. Every word. I know I haven't been great at showing it, but I care about you a lot, Y/N. You make this place — and my life — better just by being in it."

A soft blush crept up your cheeks, and you looked down at the letter again, the corners of your mouth lifting into a smile. "I had no idea you felt this way," you replied, your tone sincere. "I thought you were just being friendly."

"I was trying to be," Eddie admitted, his nerves easing slightly. "But it's hard to ignore how perfect you are."

Your smile widened and you took a small step closer to him. "Eddie, this means a lot to me. I can't believe you were brave enough to write all of this. It's beautiful."

His heart soared at your words. "I just felt like I had to say it. I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I didn't want to miss my chance."

Your expression softened and Eddie could see you processing everything. "You know, I've always thought you were incredible too. You're kind, dedicated, and you care about everyone around you. I just didn't know if you'd ever see me as more than a friend.”

"Trust me, I do," Eddie said, taking a step closer. "I've been trying to figure out how to tell you for weeks."

You laughed softly, your eyes sparkling. "Well, I'm glad you finally did. I just wish I'd noticed sooner. I do tend to be a little.. oblivious sometimes."

"You're not the only one," he replied, a smile spreading across his face. You both chuckled at that.

“So, where do we go from here?” You asked, your gaze landing on his face, searching for answers.

Eddie’s heart raced as he contemplated the question. "How about we start with a date? Just you and me. I'd love to take you out to dinner — somewhere nice, where we can actually talk."

"I'd like that," you said, your expression brightening.

Eddie grinned, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "Great! I'll plan something special. Just tell me anything that I should avoid."

"Definitely seafood," you said with a small laugh. "I'm not necessarily a fan of fish."

"Noted!" Eddie replied, a warm smile on his face. "No seafood. I can work with that."

Later that evening, Eddie joined his friends in the common area. They were scattered around the table and he felt a sudden surge of confidence. "Hey, everyone!" Eddie called out, catching their attention. "I have an announcement."

Buck leaned in, curiosity piqued. "What’s up? You finally figured out how to ask Y/N out?"

Eddie chuckled, his heart swelling with pride. "Actually, I did. We're going on a date!" The place erupted in cheers, and Eddie felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement wash over him. Buck jumped up, clapping him on the back. "I knew you could do it!"

The following days you and Eddie exchanged texts, planning your date. He learned about your favorite foods, your love for your hobby, and your aspirations for the future. Every conversation brought him closer to you, making him fall head over heels.

Finally, the day of the date arrived. Eddie found himself pacing around his apartment, checking the time and making sure he looked just right. He had opted for a casual but nice outfit — dark jeans and a fitted shirt.

When he arrived at the restaurant, Eddie felt a rush of nerves. But as soon as you walked through the door, looking gorgeous in the outfit you had picked out, all his anxiety melted away. You greeted him with a smile, and in that moment, he knew he had made the right choice.

"Wow, you look amazing," he said, his breath catching in his throat.

You blushed, your cheeks turning a shade of pink. "Thank you!" you respond, suddenly feeling too shy to say anything else.

You were seated at a cozy table with soft lighting, and as you began to chat over dinner, Eddie found himself captivated by your stories. You spoke all about your recent volunteering activities and your dreams. Eddie felt lighter than he had in a long time, as if the weight of his nervousness had lifted, replaced by the warmth of your presence.

As you left the restaurant, Eddie reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers. You looked up at him, surprise lighting your features before you smiled, squeezing his hand gently.

"Is this okay?" he asked, searching your eyes.

"More than okay," you replied softly, your cheeks flushing.

Walking side by side, you talked and laughed, enjoying the cool night air. Eddie felt a sense of happiness he hadn’t experienced in a long time, and as you neared your car, he knew he wanted to see you again soon.

"Let's do this again," he said, feeling a rush of determination. "I'd love to take you out again. Maybe next week?"

"Definitely," you responded, your eyes sparkling. "I'd love that."

As you reached your car, you turned to face him and he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss that left both of you breathless. Pulling away, Eddie smiled, the warmth of the moment lingering between them. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Eddie," you replied, a smile on your face.

911 masterlist

[tommykinard6]

Should I be eating and resting? Yes. Am I? No, so come join me for a dissertation on Tommy Kinard being lonely.

Edit to add a note since I saw a reblog about it: Tommy has no canonical age right now and Lou is 39, 40 later this year, so that is my basis for saying he’s 39.

Now when I say lonely, I don’t mean that he has no one whatsoever. I can picture him going for drinks with his team or having some Muay Thai buddies that he could call up if he really was inclined. Maybe an old army buddy or two.

But there’s something about Tommy that’s just achingly lonely, both when he was at the 118 and now at Harbor.

Tommy had a broken home, or some other kind of unstable childhood. Maybe his parents split, maybe he was mistreated, maybe he was in the system or was passed around family members. Maybe he was isolated as a child because he was a little overweight (I think Lou said something along those lines) and was bullied. I think Tommy didn’t really have any friends until high school, when puberty hit and maybe he started working out and probably joined the football team. I don’t know if anyone remembers what teenage boys are like, but I can imagine they were the same as they are today back in the 90s/early 00’s. Because around this time, Tommy might’ve started to realize that something was very different about him.

Now this isn’t a meta about how I think Tommy dealt with his sexuality (maybe I’ll do one of those later) but I think he never would’ve risked his football friends knowing even if he himself could acknowledge it, which I doubt. So he messed around, got in trouble with these guys, hung out with the bros, and pretended to be interested in girl talk.

Of course, eventually, his buddies all got girlfriends and he was always the odd one out again.

He didn’t do college. The army was his next step. And I feel like this might have been the first time in his life he wasn’t lonely. He’d learned to blend in by this point and he worked with some great people. But as he started making real friends for the first time, he also started losing them as the war tore them away.

Tommy left the army and joined the fire department. There was an aching hole where the camaraderie of the army had filled previously and with no education beyond a high school diploma, Tommy thought the fire department would replicate that. Not the police though. He’d had enough of guns.

(And ohhhh now so many ideas on his thoughts during the sniper)

But he ended up at the 118 and quickly realized that his team had maybe more of a DADT stance than the army. He realized that he had to put on an elaborate act to fool his fellow firefighters, who had more time on their hands and more prejudice they were willing to wield to pick apart his life. Tommy, who maybe had only just started to acknowledge he felt differently about guys with less panic than before, had no choice but to backslide. He acted and acted and crafted a person he wasn’t until the day that maybe he was. Sal was his closest buddy at the 118 and Tommy had no doubt that Sal would be one of the first to make his life hell. Gerrard seemed to look at Tommy as some sort of mentee. Boxed in by two notorious bigots, Tommy had never felt more claustrophobically alone.

Chim was the first one to reach out a hand of friendship, or at least the first one that didn’t come with caution tape, but he was also an “other” and Tommy, who was confused and afraid and had just had his captain call his bluff on his fake girlfriend, lashed out. Then he allowed Chim in and Chim wasn’t interested in being besties but he was a great drinking buddy and movie buddy and Tommy felt safest around him.

Then Hen came and Tommy watched her get the same treatment he was afraid of. Not that he had to worry about the racism, and he was aware of the privilege, but Hen didn’t exactly hide herself and he watched them bully his lesbian coworker. He let himself get pulled into it all and hated himself for it, but was too cowardly to break away from it. He wasn’t sure why Hen had forgiven him, but she became the only other person on shift he felt even a little safe around other than Howie. But then Chimney and Hen became best friends and Tommy fell to the wayside. They still included him, sure, but they were always a pair and there was something there that Tommy didn’t know but longed for. A closeness he’d never felt.

A best friend. A juvenile idea to him, but one he’d never truly had.

Then Gerrard was gone and Sal got transferred and the 118 moved forward under Captain Nash, but Tommy felt left behind, even in what was the most united A shift team yet. Because he was over 30 and was starting to be unable to ignore everything that he’d had to hide under Gerrard, as he no longer had a distraction from it.

He’d been a pilot in the army, so he transferred to Harbor. And Harbor was great. He wasn’t best buds with anyone (he was starting to think that was never in the cards for him) but his team didn’t carry the same baggage that the 118 had.

So Tommy started to come to terms with himself. He started to date for the first time and came out to his team. And he had several boyfriends, but most couldn’t handle the job or his baggage or the desperate need he had to be wanted. His most long term partner cheated and the one he fell hardest for couldn’t deal when Tommy was injured on the job. Even within his own relationships, he felt like he was destined to stand alone.

Tommy was 39 years old and alone, as always, when Chimney walked back into his life, dragging an adorable and also extremely hot blonde and a stoic brunette that radiated ex military in a way only ex military could know. And then Hen was there and they were trying to rescue their captain and his wife and they clearly loved each other fiercely and like family.

And as Tommy listened, flying through the remnants of a cat 5 hurricane, he thought to himself that he should’ve never left. Simply just never found himself if only that meant being part of the family the 118 was now. However, he knew deep down that he still would’ve been alone and on the outside.

And they rescued the survivors and Tommy thought that was it but then Eddie wanted to hang out. And they liked the same things and had similar experiences and Tommy couldn’t help the hope. Because the loneliness had grown stifling and now he could breathe a little. And then Evan, the cute blonde, wanted a tour of the hanger and he thought that maybe he was being hit on.

And then at the end of it all, Tommy was left realizing that he’d wedged himself between two best friends and that was what happened when he allowed himself to hope. So he went to Evan to apologize. He would get Evan and Eddie to talk to each other and then would fade into the background.

But then Evan was sweet and apologetic and told him that he was part of the 118 family simply by helping them. Tommy couldn’t help it. Here he was, at 39, with a little boy still waiting inside of him to be soothed. And Evan was hot and sweet and Tommy couldn’t help himself.

And he really liked Evan. Evan was adorable. But their first date didn’t go as planned and Tommy knew he was already whipped. So he removed himself before someone could get hurt. Evan deserved better and so did he, even if the loneliness was stifling again.

But then Evan texted him and looked at him with sparkling blue eyes over too sweet coffee and wanted him. Him. He wanted Tommy and to have something with Tommy and he wanted him to come to his sister’s wedding with him.

And Tommy looked at him and saw someone who could finally fill the ache he’d felt his whole life. He saw a man who he knew he wanted to take a chance with. All he had to do was jump.

And he did.

And it wasn’t solved, not immediately and never fully. Too many wounds were left gaping for too long to ever heal. But for the first time in his life, at 39, with the 118 surrounding him and Buck as the sunshine at his side, Tommy finally felt at peace.

[morgana-larkin]

Hi hi! I wanna request for everyone’s favorite redhead, Melissa! (I definitely did not have a hot and steamy dream about this scenario at all) I have an idea of where after a hard week and the start of Abbott’s winter break, everyone goes to a strip club to let off some steam. At the strip club, our reader is a stripper that has a firefighter schtick, and Melissa’s attention is fully on her. Ava notices this and as an early Christmas gift, she gifts Melissa a private dance with the firefighter stripper, and maybe a few “extras” 😉. During the private dance, the reader reveals that they’re an actual firefighter which causes Melissa to get excited and starts talking about fire trucks before the reader shushes her and asks her if she’d like a tour of the firehouse someday, implying future smut.

and then maybe a part 2 of the firehouse smut where the reader has the firehouse empty for a night and invites Melissa over to give her that “special tour” which involves our stripper reader coming out in her full firefighter gear and having Melissa take it off of her, before revealing fire red lingerie under all that gear, along with using the fire pole as a stripper pole and then some smut inside the fire truck which I know Melissa would love

Anon, the next time you have a dream like this, please, invite me to your dream! Lol. But for real, this was a great prompt and of course I’ll write a part 2 with smut! Here’s part 1 of a little tease. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’m trying to write Worth It but I just did 12 hours on a set for a movie and was able to write this quickly. I’ll get through your prompts while trying to write Worth It. I love how 2 prompts are for drunk Mel! And I haven’t forgotten about Mine and Cool Your Fire!

Part 2

Calling 911

Warnings: references to smut

Words: 1.9k

It was the end of the day at Abbott and now the beginning of a well deserved Christmas break. The Abbott crew decided to go on together before having 2 weeks off. Due to it being a stressful week full of grading, kids not paying attention as they were excited for the break and just the usual craziness as usual, they agreed with Ava’s suggestion to go to a strip club together.

They got to the club while there was a stripper doing an angel theme strip dance. They got a table near the front and Ava got the first round of drinks for everyone. They were talking and enjoying their drinks when you came on and the song started. “Somebody better call 911, shawty fire burning on the dance floor, whoa!” The song flooded through the club and Melissa turned to face the dancer just as it started and she froze.

There you were in firefighter looking overalls with the suspenders, a red bra and a fake firefighter helmet. Melissa watched you, entranced, while you swung around the pole, dancing to the rhythm of the song.

Everyone saw Melissa so taken by the stripper and just watched her watch you. They were smiling as they always had a feeling that Melissa might play for both teams. But Ava being Ava, she of course had to meddle.

By the time the song was over and you walked off stage, Melissa turned her attention back to the table. “What?” She asked them all as they were all staring at her.

“You seem taken by that stripper.” Janine said with a smirk.

“She was doing a firefighter set, you know how much I love things about firefighters.” Melissa tries to defend herself.

“So it was only the fact that she was doing a firefighter set and nothing to do with the woman herself?” Barb asked her, already knowing the answer and knowing the lie that Melissa will say.

“Exactly.”

“So you wouldn’t be interested in the fact that I got you a private dance with her then?” Ava says and Melissa chokes and starts coughing on the sip she took.

“You what? When did you even do that?” Melissa asks in shock.

“When you were ogling her for like 3 minutes.” Ava says with a grin. “But hey, if you don’t want it then I’ll take it.” Ava says and goes to get up. Melissa reacts before thinking and grabs Ava’s wrist and pulls her back down.

“I- I didn’t say no, I was just surprised.” Melissa says. Surprised by her own actions.

“Then go get that dance.” Ava says and Melissa gets up with a sigh.

“Alright alright, I’m going.” Melissa tells her.

“Merry Christmas Schemmenti.” Ava tells her with a wave and Melissa flips her off.

Melissa walks to the room that Ava told her to go too and walks in. It was an average size room with a couch, a pole, a speaker and low lighting. She crosses the room to the couch and before she sits, you walk in.

“Well this is a nice surprise.” You say and she turns around. “Oh, very nice surprise.” You say when you see her face and you were able to make out the red hair when you entered. You see a small smile on her face at your compliment and she shook her head.

“I bet you say that to everyone.” She says to you.

“I actually don’t. In my defence though, it’s usually men.” You tell her and you see her tilt her head. You can’t see much else in the low lighting.

“You don’t like doing private dances for men.” She asks and you have to admit, talking with her is really nice.

“Not really, it’s the women that catch my interest.” You tell her. “Do you mind if I turn up the light a bit? I would like to see you.” You ask her.

“Ok, but I’ll warn you, I’m not young.” She tells you and you turn it up a bit and you’re finally able to see her face clearly.

“Wow.” You say a bit breathless. “You’re stunning.” You tell her and you can make out a blush in the lighting. She sees you in a short black dress and she takes a breath to cool herself down.

“Th-thank you. U-um my f-friend paid for me to have a private dance because I liked your firefighter set.” She stutters out and tries to change the subject.

“Really? A woman who is attracted to firefighters? That’s rare.” You tell her and walk closer to her.

“Y-ya, I love everything about it.” She tells you and sees you coming closer to her and she walks back. She hits the couch and falls on it. She looks up at you with wide eyes and her mouth open in shock.

You giggle at her reaction and you then lean down to her ear. “Did you not want a private dance?” You whisper in her ear then pull back. “I can do a lap dance or a pole dance. Whichever you prefer.” You ask her and she’s frozen in place.

“You- you can choose.” She squeaks out and you’re confused. Well that was new.

“What? No one has asked me to choose.” You tell her and she gulps. Normally you prefer the pole because it means you don’t have to be near them, but something about this woman piques your interest. Is it because she’s exactly your type or because she seems nervous or something else? You’ll never know.

You hit play from the remote in your hand that you grabbed when you walked in and a song starts to play. It’s the song Buttons by the Pussycat Dolls, a great burlesque group. You start at the pole but then make your way over to her lap. When the song is over, you’re straddling her lap and she’s panting heavily under you with wide eyes.

“You know, I’m actually a firefighter, that’s why I like doing a firefighter set.” You tell her and you think she stopped breathing.

“You are?” She asks you and you nod. You see her breathing even out quickly and a smile forms on her lips. “You know I wanted to be a firefighter, if I wasn’t a teacher then I would have been a firefighter. It runs in my family actually, I know all about it, I mean the Schemmenti’s love beating fires. And also-” She rambles and you put a finger over her mouth to stop her.

“You’re a Schemmenti?” You ask her and she nods. “Wow, your family is a legend.” You tell her and she blushes. “You know you’re cute.” You tell her and she smiles and looks down. “I don’t ever do this but how about we continue this private dance at the fire station another night?” You ask her and she beams.

“Really?” She asks and you nod.

“I can give you a private tour.” You tell her and she gets so excited that she hugs you.

“I would love that, both things.” She says and then remembers you’re only wearing a bra and underwear and she pulls back. “Sorry. But I would love a tour, and to continue the private dance.” She says and you laugh.

“Of course.” You tell her then you get off of her and put your dress back on. “I’ll see you later.” You tell her with a wink and then leave.

Melissa then thinks you never settled on a date or got your number and she frowns, was she played? She then gets up and exits the room. She sees her group of friends are still here and she makes a stop at the bar first. She’s waiting on her drink when a piece of paper slides to her. She looks over and sees it’s you.

At the table, Ava saw you approach Melissa and shushes everyone and then points. Everyone looks over to see what caught her interest and their jaws drop.

“Thought you might need this.” You tell her and she blushes and smiles before taking the piece of paper.

“Go Melissa!” Ava yells and you look over and see someone grab the woman who yelled and pulled her back down.

“Melissa Schemmenti?” You say and she nods.

“That’s me.” She says and you smile.

“What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Mine’s y/n y/l/n. Pleasure to formally meet you.” You tell her and you shake hands. Before letting go of her hand, you pull her hand a bit and kiss her cheek and then you leave. You turn around to see her stunned. “Don’t be a stranger.” You say and then go to the back of the club.

Melissa smiles then touches where you kissed her cheek. She has a second of content and peace and then she gets ambushed by the crew. They bombard her with questions and she doesn’t give either of them an answer. She just looks at the paper: for that tour xo . You wrote, followed by your number. Melissa smiles the entire time at the strip club after that.

“Did you hit it?” Ava asks and Melissa snaps her head to her and glared briefly before smiling again.

“Nope.” She says and Ava sighs. “Better, got a firefighter’s number.” She says and Jacob squeals.

“OMG you should text her! Like right now!” Jacob says with excitement.

“What? She just gave me her number half an hour ago. That’s way too soon.” Melissa says.

“I don’t know, it looked like she really wanted a text from you immediately.” Janine says and everyone agrees. They then try and push her to text you.

“Ok ok, I’ll text her.” Melissa finally gives in and gets her phone out. She puts in your number and then freezes. “What do I text her?” She says aloud and Barb hides a snicker, Melissa is rarely nervous and she’s nervous right now.

“You could do a simple hi and your name so she knows who it is.” Gregory suggests casually.

No no, u gotta flirt girl.” Ava pipes up with a smile.

“And say what Ava?” Janine asks, and then the group discusses what Melissa should say.

Melissa was half listening to what everyone was saying, but she trusts her gut and sends you a message.

Melissa: Hey, it’s Melissa. From what I’ve already seen, that private tour is gonna be great 😉

Melissa sends it then waits for a reply, it doesn’t take long until her phone chimes with a notification.

You: Hey Melissa! Oh you know it! I'm just as good with a hose as I am with a pole

You: wait a minute, that doesn’t sound right

You: that sounded much better in my head

Melissa: 😆

Melissa: I know what you meant. Flirting is not your strong suit is it?

You: not really

You: much better at taming fires…

Melissa: can’t wait for you to tame me

You: I think you’re probably one fire I can never fully tame

Melissa: that’s true

Melissa smiles from her phone as she has a conversation with you. Unknown to her, everyone stopped arguing and was just watching her blush and smile while texting you.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

Let me know if you want to be added!

[nobody7102]

Not What He's Made For

Spoilers for Season 6, Episode 11

Pairing: Evan "Buck" Buckley x Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of pregnancy and lost pregnancy

A/N: First fic in a while, it had to be for my baby Buck. This was inspired by Billie

Main Master-List

________

Standing at the window watching as everyone gathers in his room. Buck swallows hard, seeing himself laying in the hospital bed hooked up to the ventilator, his jaw clenches with anger, an anger that no matter how hard he tries, he can't wake himself up.

Its as if the universe is playing some sick joke on him. He already talked to Daniel and the alternate version of Bobby, what more does the universe want him to learn?

Banging against the glass window “I’M HERE!” He yells over and over as the crew of the 118 slowly file out of the room. Leaving just three.

Maddie, Bobby, and Y/N,

He watches as they sit and make small talk, sometimes discussing things that the doctors and nurses have told them about Buck’s current status. After about an hour a nurse stops in to have Maddie look over some paperwork as his closest next of kin, being that their parents are still hours away from arriving at the hospital. Leaving just Bobby and Y/N.

If there ever where someone who hid their troubles well, it was Y/N.

Always seeming fine and calm in tense or hard situations as her fears screamed inside of her.

When Y/N joined the LAFD most of her previous houses would say thats what made Y/N such a good firefighter, but if you asked Y/N she would always say it was her fear that runs her life. 

And when Y/N joined the 118, Bobby was the only captain who could read through her facade. 

After a call where Y/N had to crawl through a collapsed building a year after she joined the 118, Bobby found her having an anxiety attack in her hospital room after the 118 had visited her after she was found in the rubble. Other time Bobby had learned to tell when Y/N was too in her head about anything.

And when Buck and Y/N had started to turn their situationship into an actual relationship Bobby helped Y/N learn how to navigate her fears when it came to seeing a fellow first responder, and he taught Buck how to help Y/N navigate her anxieties.

And slowly over time, Buck and Y/N became each other’s persons. They had been though so much together, from being almost drowned by a tusnami, being shot at, crawling out of a sinkhole, to fighting wild fires down in Texas, and now this.

A lightning strike. Something so beautiful yet as much as Y/N would normally have admired their beauty, right now she loathed the beauty of plasma.

The one shift she took off and now Buck’s life hangs in the balance.

Placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder, Y/N turns her head away from Bobby to quickly wipe away her tears. “Comon Y/N… what’s going though your head?” Bobby prys gently.

Letting out a sigh Y/N shakes her head, finally turning to face Bobby. “Did Buck tell you we had a fight-” she correcters herself “or rather that we’ve been fighting…” 

Bobby shrugs slightly “He mention you two were bickering but he didn’t say over what” he takes a seat next to Y/N.

“...The fights… the bickering, whatever you wanna call it… its part of the reason why I asked for this shift off…” 

Bobby nodded his head as he listened “I get it, come back with a clear approach to everything after giving each other some space… what have you been fighting about if you don’t mind me asking”

“...Buck….. Buck thinks I don’t wanna be with him anyone…. That I’m getting tired of him, and I kept trying to tell him… show him that it isn’t the case” Y/N glances over to Buck.

“Okay… then what’s the other reason you asked for this shift off?” Bobby raised his brow. 

Blowing out a breath, Y/N shakes her head.

“If you let it sit, it’s gonna fester into something more. We both know that” Bobby sits back in the chair and crosses his arms, waiting for Y/N to talk.

She knows he’s right, if she avoids talking its just gonna sit in the back of her mind and eventually come back to bite her in the ass later. 

“...If I tell you this… no one else can know, you have to swear to me Bobby. No one… not Athena or Maddie or Eddie or Buck, no one.” She turns to Bobby.

“Y/N, if its serius enough you know Buck-”

“Bobby.” Y/N pleads “He can’t know” 

Bobby lets out a sigh, stuck between a rock and a hard place, he eventually nods his head “It stays between us, I promise” 

Slowly nodding her head, Y/N takes a deep breath and looks back at Buck one last time before she turns back to Bobby.

“... Buck and I have been fighting because he thinks I’m pulling away from him… this has been going on for the past week and a half” Y/N glances down to the floor as she continues “and I mean maybe I was a little bit like three days ago but it’s not for the reason’s Buck thinks” 

Starting to pick at the loose threads of her hoodie, Y/N shakes her head and blows out a breath before glancing to the doorway of Buck’s hospital room, making sure no one other than Bobby is around to hear her before she speaks.

“... a little over two weeks ago… I found out I was pregnant” Y/N sees the shock on Bobby’s face and cuts him off before he has the chance to speak “I was gonna tell you, I swear… but anytime we were on shift it was slow, we didnt end up doing anything super dangerous… and I wanted to tell Buck before I told anyone else”

Bobby’s gaze softens as he sees Y/N close her eyes and lean back in the chair as she takes a breath before continues. “If…. If I was pulling away, it’s because I was trying to figure out how to tell Buck” He sees how Y/N keeps her eyes to the floor as she talks, a tear starts to roll down her cheek before she brings her hand up to wipe it away. “Becuase its Buck. We all know he’d make a great dad, and a great dad deserves to be told in a great way… because Buck is worth taking extra steps to plan for so I ordered this little onesie and all these balloons and a cake to surprise him… and I know he would have loved it” Bobby can hear the passion in her voice before Y/N goes quiet for a moment to compose herself before she clears her thought.

“But then… four days ago I went to the ER because I was having some cramps and light spotting… I asked my doctor about and she said it was normal” Y/N shakes her head “But I could tell… something wasn’t-” Y/N stops herself, taking a moment before she swallows hard. “And… that’s when I learned that I lost the pregnancy…” She shrugs as she tries to maintain was little composer she has left.

“They don’t know what happened… in the ER they told me that things like this just happen sometimes…” Y/N’s voice tightnes she brings her hand up to cover her face for a moment as she tries to take a few deep breaths.

“So… for the last few days… yeah I was pulling away because I had all this stuff planned and I had to figure out what to do with it now because-” her voice breaks “It was all for nothing” her shoulders shake as Bobby wraps his arms around Y/N, letting her cry on his shoulder as he glances between her and Buck with pity and sadness in his eyes. 

“Y/N” He starts once she’s a bit more calmed down “This isn’t something you can hide from Buck”

Y/N just continues to shake her head “I can’t Bobby, I’ve tried-” 

“Y/N” 

“No I mean it” Y/N cuts him off her voice wavers a little bit “I have tried to tell him at every opportunity but i can’t… everytime i try i choke everytime.”

Pulling away from Bobby, Y/N sniffles and wipes her eyes before she glances to Buck “...I think it’d just make it worse, make it hurt more if I told him…” Y/N mumbles “he’s not made for sadness Bobby… Buck thrives on the happiness and joy… love and happiness and passion run his life… something like this?” she just stares at Buck laying in the hospital bed and the tears start to roll down her cheeks once more “it’s not was he’s made for…”

Staring at Y/N and Bobby, Buck bangs his fist against the glass one last time before he stops banging, his hand growing sore as he rests his head against the glass, his tears matching Y/N’s as all he can do it watch…

Hoping that this isn’t his forever.

--------

Tagging: @beachbabey @t-nd-rfoot

[slightlyobsessedwitheverything]

a breakdown of tommy kinard’s past appearances

so. like many of you, i’ve been getting a little bit tired of seeing the same “wait wasn’t tommy a racist/homophobe? why do we like him now?” posts for the last few weeks. so i wanted to do a small breakdown of every time he has previously appeared on screen, along with his action and inaction regarding the casual bigotry of the 118 under captain gerrard.

this is gunna be a long one boys so, strap in lol

season 3 episode 12: chim begins

i’m going to go in chronological order here rather than episodic order just for character development’s sake

tommy’s first appearance in this episode is about 11 minutes in, after the first commercial break. the current 118 are sitting down to dinner when chim arrives. tommy spots him and asks, “hey eli, you forget to tip the delivery guy?” i would say this could be a genuine question based on the fact that chim’s in his civvies, but he’s got his go bag that says “FIREFIGHTER” on his shoulder so. seems like he’s just being a smartass.

(*edit: it’s been pointed out to me that considering they had ordered chinese food, this could have been an instance of casual racism, and i am inclined to agree)

he’s not seen much during chim’s montage of just doin’ shit around the firehouse, until the point where the 118 come back covered in mud. tommy spots chim and asks him, “you still here?” again, just kind of general dickishness. not really anything to write home about.

a small kind of background tommy moment we get after chim’s montage is right as the team is returning from a call, and chim tries to tell them about the older couple who he helped earlier in the day.

tommy: what about that burger place?

gerrard: tommy, you know i hate that place

chim: hey guys, weirdest thing happened today… *he is ignored*

gerrard: hey, wasn’t your girlfriend supposed to come and cook us dinner?

tommy: uh, next tuesday.

gerrard: promise?

tommy: uh— uh, yes. yeah, i will promise…

now. i’m going to leave that up to interpretation, however i have opinions regarding that bit going forward. but! that’s ultimately not what this post is about, so perhaps another time.

the next scene is a pretty major one. chim is getting ready in the locker room, and tries to strike up a conversation with tommy when he walks in to gather some things (deodorant, toothbrush, soap it seems like, none of these details matter i just think they’re fun).

chim repeatedly tried to get tommy to open up to him about the things he likes, saying “tell me what your thing is and i’ll make it mine.” though, tommy just ignores him. we see a close up of him closing his eyes and sighing in exasperation.

chim asks, “…you just really don’t like me much, do you?” and tommy, for the first time, responds to chim’s questions with, “if i thought about you at all, honestly, i probably wouldn’t.” and he leaves.

later, after eli recruits chim to be a paramedic, they have a conversation regarding what he witnessed in the locker room between chim and tommy. eli tells him that it’s not personal, and that “in this job, friends die. funerals are held. they’re not going to just give you their friendship until you earn their respect. they’re not just protecting you, they’re protecting themselves.” and this ultimately makes sense with what we saw in tommy in that earlier scene. he didn’t really seem annoyed or upset at chim’s insistence to get to know him, just apprehensive mostly. he wasn’t cruel to him, and he hasn’t been. just… kind of a dick.

in the fire truck, on the way to the barn burner, tommy is sitting next to him and looks over at chim, as chim seems to be exhibiting signs of nervousness (this is his first real call as a firefighter after all)

(however, this is a moment where chim’s reality and his past start to bleed into each other so i am not sure how accurate this is to the moment.)

we don’t get much in the next scene aside from tommy’s presence at kevin’s funeral. when chim is ringing the bell, tommy is behind him and briefly looks toward chim, likely noticing how chim is attempting to hold himself together.

the next major scene is the call at the shopping mall, where there was some sort of structural collapse. based on the symptoms of the people that were in the mall, chim assumes there is a gas leak, which gerrard waves off. he calls for tommy over the radio, and receives no response.

chim has a realization that they’re dealing with a methane leak, and runs inside the mall to retrieve tommy.

just as the building explodes, chim runs out with tommy over his shoulder. though in this scene “tommy” is clearly a dummy prop and it is so fucking funny once you notice how floppy it is.

then we get probably the greatest scene in all of 911 where chim is in the waiting room waiting for news on tommy and reality starts to bleed into the flashback while “exit music (for a film)” by radiohead plays . it has pretty much nothing to do with this post i just wanted to say how much i LOVE this scene. anyway.

the penultimate scene of the episode starts off with chim in the locker room tucking in his shirt. tommy walks in and, with no preamble, says, “love actually, monster trucks, craft beer.”

chim realizes that this is a response to their last locker room interaction. he asks tommy how his head is feeling, tommy replies, “still fat, but clearer. you saved my life. thank you.” and shakes chimney’s hand, before pulling him into a hug. this is where their friendship begins.

in this episode, i didn’t notice anything that could really be construed as bigotry (see edit*), he was just kind of a dick at first and most of that can boil down to him being closed off and not wanting to open up before there’s a level of respect there.

(though, keep in mind i am white so there is a definite possibility that i could have missed something more racially motivated, however i didn't see anything glaring)

season 3 episode 9: hen begins

tommy’s first appearance (ever) is about 13 and a half minutes into the episode when captain gerrard introduces the team to their new “diversity hire” (after greeting her himself with a few blatantly misogynistic comments)

when tommy first sees hen, he smiles and asks “who’s this?”

when gerrard calls her a “diversity hire,” the smile leaves tommy’s face and he looks back at gerrard with somewhat of a blank expression, contrasted with sal deluca’s disbelieving smirk and comment of “for real?”

chimney then defends hen, gerrard walks away after saying they’re screwed. tommy once again looks between hen and gerrard before ultimately following him away from the railing.

it is not clear what exactly his reaction to hen joining the team actually is at that moment, whether he wanted to speak up like chim or express disdain like sal, as he remained silent.

at dinner, tommy asks sal what he and his girlfriend did the night previous, where the movie “twilight” comes up. sal makes a comment about kristen stewart being hot, and hen joins in thinking she found something in common with these guys to talk about, but sal ignores her and she walks away. (i think the writers may have genuinely forgotten kstew was only 17 in that movie but that’s neither here nor there)

tommy chimes in saying he “doesn’t get that” and that she’s “too brooding” for him, to which sal responds, “maybe you’re more of a team jacob kind of guy.”

tommy says he has no idea what that means, and chim clarifies that sal is insinuating that he’s gay.

sal laughs at this and at tommy’s reaction, and tommy jokingly blows him a kiss, smiles, and goes back to his food.

(here is a gifset of the scene)

chim then invites hen into the conversation by asking where she’s from. when he tells her he assumed she was an east coaster and that it was a compliment, tommy replies with “new york bitchiness is a compliment?” (score 1 for the misogyny bucket)

chim calls him out, and he just kind of huffs and looks at gerrard, but ultimately moves on.

tommy doesn’t really say or do much else in this scene besides sit silently while gerrard is sexist towards hen and hen stands her ground. in the end, sal looks toward tommy and nods his head in the direction of the kitchen. they both get up and leave the table.

nothing of note happens in the mudslide scene with tommy, most of the conflict is between hen and gerrard. the scene where gerrard makes her man behind as well. tommy is in the background and sees this happen, but says nothing. though, i also need to add that in these moments, chim does not say anything either.

the next scene tommy is in is when hen makes her announcement to the team about how she is not going anywhere.

i once again want to point out the difference in tommy vs sal in this scene. sal has his hands on his hips and his lips tight in a somewhat annoyed looking fashion, and he looks to the side where tommy is to gauge his reaction.

whereas tommy, has his arms folded and is looking down at the floor at first, before looking up towards hen. and while gerrard and chim have their arms crossed as well, i want to point out that tommy is holding one arm while the other sits around his waist. he looks a bit sheepish if i’m being honest, like he knows they’re about to be scolded.

when hen says for them to “see me as i see you, as a proud member of this department,” tommy turns to look behind him and makes eye contact with chim.

now, there’s not a whole lot i can glean from this interaction as is, but as we know from “chim begins,” tommy trusts chim so it’s possible he wants to get chim’s opinion. he seems to do this a lot i’ve noticed, looking between the people around him to gauge their reactions to what is going on.

nothing much of note for the car accident scene, HOWEVER. in the scene immediately after, sal and tommy address hen directly for the first time to give her some praise for her call on that scene. sal tells her “nice work yesterday,” and tommy tells her that they would have found the other car eventually, but eventually would have been too late.

hen states she “just got lucky,” to which sal responds, “screw that. you’re good,” and both he and tommy shake hen’s hand. tommy even gives her a light smack on the shoulder as he walks away and hen absolutely BEAMS.

then of course, hen is told that gerrard was removed from his position because his conduct was reported and “more than a few of your fellow firefighters have your back.” we know chim is absolutely one of them, and i can infer that based on tommy and sal’s reactions to hen’s speech and their interaction with her just before this scene, it is very likely they are as well.

in this episode, there were definitely some more moments of blatant bigotry in this episode, but other than the “new york bitchiness” line, tommy doesn’t really directly contribute to any of it. he seems to be more of a follower, constantly gauging how others feel and just playing along. complicity is still an issue of it’s own, do not get me wrong, but considering i keep seeing people say he made racist/homophobic comments, i feel like its a reasonable thing to point out.

season 3 episode 16: bobby begins again

tommy’s final on screen appearance begins with hen taking bets on how long the new captain will last. tommy asks hen to put him down for 4 weeks on credit, and they (hen, tommy, sal, and chim) banter a little. they all seem to have a pretty good relationship with each other at this point.

bobby pops out of the firetruck and places his own bet on himself, and tommy just kind of looks sheepish since they got called out.

to be real, tommy doesn’t do a whole lot in this episode either. most of the conflict is between bobby and sal. most of what we see is him in the background silently judging bobby’s lack of LA knowledge along with hen and chim. he does have some silly little moments during the chicken chase though.

(here's a great gifset of that scene)

bobby calls out to sal to talk to him after the restaurant fire, and sal keeps walking but tommy stops and waits, looking between bobby and sal.

sal says, “you’re a piece of work. you come in here with your nose in the air and your eyes looking down–” tommy interrupts sal and tells him to stop.

sal keeps digging into bobby, and tommy in the background, looks to chim and hen and shakes his head, seemingly telling them not to get in the middle of it.

sal says he has the skill to lead the 118, bobby retorts with, “but not the temperament.” sal then drops his bag and stomps toward bobby so he can get in his face. tommy moves to go after him, but chim gets between sal and bobby before anything can happen.

bobby fires sal, and tommy is just standing there with the rest of his team wondering what the hell happened.

we then have the bar scene! chim, hen, and tommy hanging out at the bar before bobby ends up joining them.

they have a good time and show off their scars to each other. tommy quotes fight club, chim laughs, bobby leaves to solve the arson.

(again, here's another gifset)

at the end we see a bit more of the team together, bobby starting to cook for them, and finally the scene of chim and hen popping out of the ambulance with balloons and a cake for tommy as he transfers to the 217. they all seem to be fairly close at this point.

(another gifset for good measure)

and other than chim calling on him for a water drop in 2x14, that’s about it until he returns in season 7.

in conclusion

to me, it seems like tommy is a bit of a follower and tends to just go along with what the people around him are doing, ESPECIALLY under gerrard. captain gerrard fostered a really toxic work environment and its no wonder others like sal were never really called out on their shit. and tommy mostly seemed to follow sal’s lead or stay quiet.

“chimney begins” takes place around 2006-ish, “hen begins” around 2008, and “bobby begins again” takes place around 2017 i believe. and between 2006 and 2024, based on what we see, its easy to see that tommy has indeed grown and changed many of his attitudes, especially when in a healthier work environment. now can we please stop acting like he’s this irredeemable piece of shit and see him for what he really is: a flawed person who grows and learns from others, like every other character on this show.

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 1

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

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

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

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

Happy Hispanic Heritage Month!! 🥳❤️‍🔥 You guys really warmed my heart with all the excitement for this story. I'm very happy to bring you the first chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint! 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4,000 Warnings: Tense situations, brief mention of claustrophobia, and a good old-fashioned meet cute.

Part 1: "Class and Style"

Come on, come on, come on!

The toe of your heeled foot tapped on the floor as you, once again, waited for the elevator to make its slow climb back up to the 22nd floor.

In your hand was a tray carrying two steaming lattes: one small, plain hazelnut, and the other a venti caramel frappe with all the sugary bells and whistles. Complete with extra whipped cream, because your boss was a goddamn child.

I shouldn’t even be getting his coffee, you thought sourly. This is his assistant’s job!

And if this elevator didn’t climb any faster, having to stop at Starbucks during your meager lunch break for your boss’s morning fix would make you late for a very important sales meeting.

“Let’s go, Betsy. Come on,” you muttered. “You can do it.”

Yes, you’d named the contraption that usually managed to carry you all the way to your correct floor. When she wasn’t broken down for maintenance. 

The four walls of the narrow elevator shook and creaked as it cleared the 20th floor. You inhaled sharply, but resisted the urge to grab the inner guardrail. This thing was old, just like the rest of the building.

But then, Betsy screeched and made an abrupt stop.

You were woefully unprepared. You slid in your heels and gasped—both at the jolt, and at the hot lattes tipping out of your hand and down your blouse and skirt.

Shit!

You didn’t even have time to wince at the scalding hot coffee, as you nearly rolled an ankle in the spillage. Luckily, you were able to grab at that guardrail. You sucked in relatively even breaths as you realized what happened…

The elevator stopped, but not on your floor.

“Oh, God…” you uttered, staring up at the red, digital “21” above the metal doors. It was blinking, but not moving. Just like you weren’t moving. Which meant…you were stuck.

Okay, not a big deal. You’re fine, you thought, trying to calm yourself. All you had on you was your phone, your ID, and your credit card. You’d decided to leave your purse in your desk, since you were just walking across the street.

But that was okay! Because you still had your phone…

“No service. Of course,” you muttered, raising your phone high to try and get a bar. This elevator was a dead zone, and it always had been. Fucking hell…

So you did the only thing you could think of.

You shouted for help.

You pressed the emergency alarm, several times.

You could hear it blare and echo outside of the chamber of the elevator, but no one seemed to hear you. Your work building was huge, made up of several departments and hundreds of employees here at Savage & Co. There was always plenty going on, especially in the middle of the morning.

Maybe no one could hear you.

“All right. Don’t…don’t panic,” you told yourself. Even though your heart was beginning to pound.

You finally pressed the “Call” button outlined in red. You didn’t know if it worked; half the floor buttons on the console didn’t even light up anymore.

But to your relief, the sound of a phone line ringing echoed through the small speaker. After a few rings, someone answered.

“Fire Department.”

“Oh, God. Yes!”

With a hand on the rail, you managed to kneel down next to the speaker. Your free hand brushed a strand of hair away from your dewy face. There was no AC in here, and you were starting to sweat. Thankfully, the rest of your hair was pulled up into a clip.

“I’m stuck in one of the oldest elevators known to man,” you told the disembodied voice.

“Sorry to hear that. What’s your name?”

You gave them your name, along with the address of your company’s building. The voice promised that they were dispatching a until to come and get you out soon.

“How soon is soon?” you asked.

“…About forty-five minutes, give or take.”

Jesus Christ.

You baked inside Betsy for close to an hour. While your makeup slowly melted, you found a corner of the ground that wasn’t covered by a coffee puddle, and you pressed the alarm button at random intervals. Still, no one seemed to hear it. You used the empty coffee tray to try and fan yourself.

Your phone was also useless. You tucked that along with your credit card into your bra for safe keeping. You’d definitely missed your meeting about the prospective Zimmerman account—one you and your coworker Josh were competing to nail down, as the top performers in the sales department. You couldn’t even catch up on your emails.

Damn it, Nick’s gonna chew my head off, you thought. But then you frowned, your brows furrowing. Well, it’s his fault for not maintaining this damn building. And for ordering a damn caramel frappe! What is he, a 12-year-old girl?

Your skirt was still sticky on the side. With a sigh, you leaned your head back against the metal wall and closed your eyes. Ah, well. At least I’m not claustrophobic.

“Fire Department!” called a man’s voice from above. “Can you hear me down there?”

You gasped and opened your eyes. Your gaze raised heavenward, and you called out to the voice.

“Hello?!”

“Ah, we found you. You okay, ma’am? Are you hurt?”

“Y-Yes…” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see it. “I mean, no. I’m not hurt.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “You’re stuck between two floors, but we’re gonna get you out, all right?”

“Okay.” You sucked in a shaky breath and grabbed the rail so you could get back onto your feet. “I’m stuck on the 21st floor right?”

“Well, in between 21 and 22. Hold on one sec.”

 You stood there with bated breath, just waiting for something to happen. You heard tools whirring, felt the elevator shutter for a moment, but it didn’t budge. Until you heard a thump on the roof. You looked up, but of course you couldn’t see what was happening.

Until a square patch in the roof was unscrewed and drawn back, revealing a firefighter in almost all his gear: wearing a gray shirt tucked into navy pants, red suspenders, black boots and gloves. All he was missing was a jacket and a hardhat.

He did wear a harness, and he held another one in his gloved hand, as well as a charming, almost boyish grin on his face.

��There you are,” he greeted.

You didn’t know if it was the lack of AC, or his ridiculously handsome features, but you felt your face heat up further.

“Uh, hi,” you said, very eloquently. You offered a smile back. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet, but we will,” he said, still with that grin as he lowered the second harness down to you. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

You gave it to him as you took the harness.

“Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances,” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t have this on your bingo card today, did ya?”

You snorted in response. “Not even in my fortune cookie.”

It earned an amused look from him. Then he proceeded to instruct you on how to put the harness on around your waist and shoulders and clip the straps together.

“Okay, good. Now tug it, make sure it’s tight enough,” Dean said, motioning with his hand. You obliged him.

“Perfect.” He nodded, before crouching down and lowering his hands through the compartment. “All right, now. Just take my hands. I’m gonna pull you up.”

You looked up at him, then and at the narrow escape hatch with uncertainty.

“It’s okay,” he said, noting your reluctance (and your white-knuckle grip on the guardrail). “It’s perfectly safe.”

“Yeah, I doubt anything about this situation is safe,” you replied wryly. You glanced at the elevator’s metal walls. Even now, they groaned under Dean’s shifting weight.

“I mean, I’m sure you’re strong and all,” you said, with a vague gesturing hand at him. You couldn’t quite tell from your limited vantage point, but Dean could barely fit his broad shoulders through the hole he’d opened up. He was probably a big guy.

Still, you didn’t like the idea of your legs dangling in mid-air. 

“I’m a woman, but I’m still a full-grown person,” you said, your brows beginning to furrow in worry. “People are heavy, and this thing is rickety as hell, and that’s a really tiny window…”

“All right,” Dean gently interrupted. He looked like he was trying hard not to chuckle, and you didn’t appreciate it…even though you were biting your lip, trying not to smile too (more in embarrassment).

“I promise you, the line’s got you,” he said. And he tugged on the sturdy rope that connected to your harness.

His eyes met yours directly, firm and assuring. They were green, you noticed, even in this fluorescent lighting.

“More importantly, I’ve got you. And there’s no way I’m gonna let you fall,” he said, with what seemed like every conviction in the world. “Just take my hands.”

He leaned in further so you could reach him.

…And damn it, you believed him.

Staring into his eyes, you found the courage to suck in a deep breath and release the guardrail. You reached up and let his hands curl tightly around yours. You gripped him right back.

“All right, pull up!” he called back over his shoulder.

You couldn’t see them, but you heard the voices of other firefighters as they slowly retracted Dean’s harness line as well as yours. When he was able to plant his feet on the roof of the elevator again, you held your breath as he pulled you all the way up as well.

You lost a heel along the way though. It fell off your foot and hit the bottom of the elevator below.

“Woops,” Dean said. His arms wrapped around you, and he held you securely against him when your heel (and bare foot) also met the elevator roof, a bit awkwardly. You both peered back down through the square hole.

“Want me to get that for you?” he offered, with another one of those grins.

Now you knew you were blushing. Stop it!

You shook your head as you clung to his arms. You felt the strength in them, and it steadied you, along with the easy way about him that said he was more than comfortable with the perils of rescuing trapped women from old-ass elevators.

“Don’t even worry about it,” you told him. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

Dean chuckled then. “I hear ya. Let’s go, then.”

He glanced up and called out to a “Benny” and a “Gordon.” You assumed they were the men securing the harnesses that held you and Dean.

“Okay. You ready, sweetheart?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod, even as you bit your lip again at the endearment. Usually when men called you sweetheart, (like your boss), it was like nails on a damn chalkboard.

But somehow, it didn’t seem so sleezy coming from the charming fireman.

You craned to looked up at his face. He was much taller than you, even with half your heels. Dean met your eyes again, and for a moment, you were tense. The elevator shaft was dark and cold, but the light from the open doors of the floor above allowed you to see his face, decorated lightly with stubble, and his brown hair that spiked to one side.

Your mouth parted, though you didn’t have a clue of what to say next…

You were saved when the lines went even more taut, and the firefighters on the floor above brought you and Dean all the way up to the 22nd floor. He helped you reach out to a bearded fireman, who supported your arms and carried you out of the elevator shaft, onto solid ground.

A small crowd had formed in the lobby. Zachariah the CFO was there, along with the building manager, and your friend Andréa, who looked both worried and relieved to see you. And even your boss, Nick, came forward to meet you once Benny and Dean helped you take off the harness.

“You’ve had a busy morning,” Nick drawled.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “You could say that.”

Technically, he was everyone’s boss: Nick Savage, CEO of Savage & Co. He’d inherited the company from his father. However, Nick believed his one sad year of college business classes made him an expert on running your sales department with a firm hand.

“Well, it’s good to see you’re all right,” he said. Though his eyes glanced down your stained, white blouse, down to your bare foot. His gaze made your spine prickle. And not in a good way.

You crossed your arms on reflex. “I know I missed the meeting—”

“We recorded it. You’ll be able to watch it later, take notes, all that good stuff,” he said, his head tilting in that lazy way of his. He gestured at you with a finger. “But, uh…once you’re done cleaning up, think you could nip back out and get me that coffee? Since, you know, you’re kind of wearing it.”

Behind you, the team of firefighters discreetly watched the scene while packing up their gear—some with curiosity and bemusement, others (namely Dean) with a subtle frown.

You were livid.

But you managed to keep it down, just beneath your skin, as you bent down and took off your remaining heel.

“I’m requesting the afternoon off as personal time,” you informed him with (mostly) all due professionalism. There was a fire in your eyes, however, that not even you could tame.

“But don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll still land the Zimmerman account by Friday.”

You turned and dropped your shoe into a nearby garbage can. You didn’t want to be reminded of your boss every time you saw the coffee stains.

Before you left, you stopped in front of Dean and the other firefighters.

“Thank you very much for all your help,” you said, giving them all a smile. Your gaze lingered on Dean, who smiled back at you and nodded, his hands resting on his belt.

“You got it, sweetheart.”

Your lips twitched. Then you continued on your way towards the exit door, to the stairwell. You shoved it open and walked bare-footed up to your office to get your purse. 

You’d left Nick silently fuming in the middle of the hall. You knew there wasn’t too much he could do with an entire crowd of witnesses.

He soon huffed and let your behavior roll off his back, as he became distracted by Zachariah and the building manager asking about the last time the elevator was properly serviced.

Meanwhile, Dean and Benny shared an amused look as their team rolled out.

Damn, Dean thought, remembering how you’d stopped in your little storm out, just to thank them. And how you’d held your head high as you walked away on bare feet.

He could admit, you had both class and style.

“Really, Grandpa. I’m fine,” you insisted.

Now in the comfort of your own home, and in your pajamas after a nice hot shower, you stirred a pot of chicken soup for your Grandpa George. He eyed you from the kitchen table with a measure of suspicion.

“Well, it’s lucky for you we’ve got a responsive Fire Department,” he said. “In the sleepy little town I grew up in, you’d be lucky if the whole damn building didn’t cave in before somebody got to ya.”

You shot him an amused look.

“Thanks. Makes me feel better about stepping into an elevator ever again.”

George seemed to consider the prospect, but he soon waved a vague hand.

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” George said, waving a hand. “Even if one of the cables snapped, you’d have three more holdin’ you up. And it should only need one cable to support the compartment, make sure the whole thing doesn’t fall to the damn ground.”

Your grandfather had been a technician for sixty years, so he knew a little thing about commercial building maintenance. However, right now, he wasn’t making you feel any better about your somewhat perilous experience. You paled a bit at the thought of cables snapping, leading to a long, Tower of Terror-style drop.

Except there’d be nothing to catch you at the bottom.

“It’s okay. I’ll just start walking up all 22 floors up to my office every day,” you said, smiling wryly. “I’ll finally have thighs like Wonder Woman.”

George laughed, though it soon ended on a cough. You eyed him with a frown as you ladled out a bowl of soup for him. You went over to him, both to set down the bowl in front of him and rub his back.

“Still with that cough. I don’t like it,” you said. “I’m making an appointment with your doctor.”

George shook his head and grabbed his glass of water.

“Just something caught in my throat.”

“Mhmm,” you replied. He was the absolute king of downplaying. It used to drive your grandma nuts.

You sighed and raised a hand to your forehead. An ache was building behind your eyes. Or maybe it had been there since you left work early today, and you were just now realizing how tightly wound your spine was.

“You okay?” George asked. You read the concern in his eyes and tried to relax your face from its scrunching.

“Yeah. Just a tension headache.”

“Hmm. Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me, and more time taking care of yourself,” he pointed out. “You had a stressful day. Why don’t you go relax? Or better yet, go out! Go see your friends. Get in a bar fight. Something productive.”

A grin curved your lips as you raised a brow.

“A bar fight would make me more productive?”

George grinned up at you. “Well, at least it’d get you out of the house.”

You pursed your lips. There was a reason you didn’t go out very often, and your grandfather knew it. You were the only one who could watch out for him now, even if he didn’t think he needed it. Your mouth opened to reply, but before you could, your cell phone rang through the house.

For a moment, the two of you stared at one another. Until George raised his brows.

“You should get that, huh?” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him, despite your small smile, and you raised a finger as you went to get your purse over in the living room.

“We’re not done, old man,” you said over your shoulder.

“Oh, believe me. I know,” he grumbled, delving into his soup with a spoon.

Meanwhile, you fished your phone out of your purse and answered. A genuine, if tired smile graced your lips. It was your best friend, Andréa. She worked with you at Savage & Co., over in Marketing as a graphic designer.

As fate would have it, the two of you were hired on the same day five years ago. She’d invited you to lunch that day, and from then on, you two had been rocking through corporate life like Thelma and Louise—if Thelma had been a Greek artist and Louise had been a sarcastic saleswoman. 

“Hey, Dre,” you greeted.

“Hello, my love. Congratulations for surviving your near-death experience, and getting to serve Nick Savage a bit of humble pie,” she teased. “I thought you were going to lobby your Prada heel at his head.”

You huffed and plopped down on the couch with your feet up on the coffee table.

“First of all, let’s not be too dramatic. I was stuck in an elevator, not a Chilean mine shaft,” you said wryly. “Second, you really think I would throw away Prada? Even if it was coffee stained… Those were just my $30 Steve Maddens.”

And yet, they had been your most comfortable heels. Maybe you should just find some sensible flats in the back of your closet and be done with it. But you liked the height and confidence that a nice pair of heels gave you—especially in that office filled with “Mad Men” wannabes.

Every male on your sales team thought he was Jon Hamm in a room full of George Costanzas.

Nick Savage was the worst out of all of them.

You dealt with it, however, and sometimes even thrived on being the only woman on the team. Mostly because you needed your job.

It paid well enough, but most of it went into the upkeep of your grandparents’ old house, and for the past few years, their extensive medical bills…

“Still, at least you got a Mission Impossible-style rescue out of it,” said Andréa. Her tone turned both leading and flirtatious. “Tell me you got that fireman’s number. Dear God Almighty, what a Grade-A Hottie.”

You chortled through your blush at remembering Dean, the firefighter who saved you. You could admit, he’d been one fine specimen of a man.

“Grade-A Hottie. What are we, in middle school?” you retorted. “Besides, he was just doing his job.”

“Ugh, you’re so pragmatic it hurts,” your friend lamented. “You really need to live a little, while you’re still hot and firm.”

You laughed fully at that one. “Yeah, I think taking the stairs from now on will help with the ‘firm’ bit.”

Just like the strength of the firefighter’s hold had been. You’d felt entirely secure after he’d pulled you up on the elevator roof. His arms had reassured you even more than the harness, if you thought about it. (And your face heated up further at said thought.)

“I do wish I could say thank you again, somehow,” you mused out loud, not really thinking about who exactly you were talking to.

“Oh, yeah?” Andréa said. You could practically hear her mischievous grin. It made you slightly nervous. “Well, it’s not unheard of for a grateful civilian to stop by a firehouse. You could bring him lunch or something!”

“Ah, I don’t know about that,” you said. Your instinct was to withdraw inward at the thought of putting yourself out there like that. Besides, you didn’t want to bother him while he was at work.

“What’re you talking about? Firefighters love food! Believe me, my cousin Meg is a paramedic,” Andréa said. Then she gasped. “Oh, girl. I have the perfect idea for you. Why don’t you bake something for the whole firehouse? That way it takes some of the pressure off, but you still get to see him.”

You became more contemplative then.

Bake something, huh?

Now, that you could do. Andréa knew all too well that the one thing that could get your gears turning was getting your apron on, as baking was your ultimate hobby. It made you feel creative, and damn-near stress free…

And her idea wasn’t too shabby, the more you thought about it. It was something kind that you knew you could do. And more than anything, you really did just want to say thank you, one more time.

You smiled.

“Okay. I think we have a plan.” However, your smile soon fell. “Wait, I have no idea what firehouse he works at.”

“Hmm, my cousin might know,” Andréa said. “Let me reach out to her…what’s his name again?”

“Dean,” you replied. Another small smile reached your lips, against your will.

“His name was Dean.”

AN: Ah, the first chapter! Launching a new story is always so exciting! 🥰 What did you think of the reader and Dean's first meeting?

Also, feel free to imagine Mark Pellegrino's "Nick" for this (I am). He didn't have a last name on the show, so I created one for this story, as he's going to be an important antagonist throughout.

And just so you guys know, my knowledge of the inner workings of fire departments and law enforcement will largely come from my own research and being a huge fan of procedurals, like Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Law & Order, etc.

Yes, aspects are fictionalized on those shows, but a lot of it is rooted in real-life protocol and stories. All the love and respect for creator/executive producer Dick Wolf. 😂

...Oh, and the elevator scene was inspired by true events. (Yes, I've been stuck in an elevator before. 🫠 Two ridiculously hot firefighters pulled me out, but by then I was melting from the lack of AC, had no makeup, and was dressed like a female!Dean, plaid and all lmao.)

Anywho...

Next Time:

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled a bit. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you.

Keep Reading: PART 2

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

Due to Tumblr's dumb 50-only tag rule, I'm tagging the rest of you in a reblog. 😘

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

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[moonstruckme]

I know we have emt mauraders (and I absolutely love them with all of my heart), but I can't get the image of fireman James out of my head. He's just so beefed up and just has that build about him. You know? 🫠

So true babe <3

cw: reader is trapped in elevator for a bit

firefighter!James x fem!reader ♡ 753 words

It took you some time to work up the courage to press the HELP button. Your building’s elevator has always been a bit scary, shuddering and screeching ever since you’d moved in, so you’d hoped for a while that it would just fix itself, remember that it was supposed to be moving and deliver you safely to your floor. No such luck.

You’re endlessly glad that you’re going home and not running late to work when it takes the fire crew another twenty minutes to show up. You’re guessing elevator rescues aren’t at the top of their priority list. When someone finally bangs on a door somewhere below you, you scramble up from where you’ve been sitting on the floor. 

“Fire department,” a man’s voice says.

“Hi,” you call back, feeling immediately stupid for it. Were you supposed to say your job description back or something? 

“Is everyone okay? How many of you are there?” 

“It’s—it’s just me.” 

“Alright,” the voice says, “we’re gonna get you out of there, just give us a second.” 

You hum back though he probably can’t hear. There’s a lot of creaking metal and muffled voices, and then the door to your prison squeaks slowly open. Most of what you can see is clearly elevator shaft, but there’s a small opening at your feet. Once it’s a couple of feet wide, a curly head pops through. 

“Hi,” the voice from earlier says. It comes from a lovely face, all tan skin and warm eyes and a radiant smile, like this man finds everything about his day genuinely cheering. “You alright in here? Injured at all?” 

It takes you a second to find your voice, and even once you do it sounds pitchier than normal. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.” 

“Perfect.” Somehow, his grin seems to widen, which is a bit much for you right now. Suddenly you’re kind of dizzy. “Okay, I’m just going to have you scooch on your bum over here and stick your legs out, yeah? I’ll pop out so I can lower you down.” 

He’s going…he’s going to grab your legs. Okay. Awesome. This is totally your everyday. 

Some of your hesitance must show on your face, because the man’s expression softens. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself,” he says. “I’m James. What’s your name?” 

You tell him, so quietly you’re not sure he can hear, but James nods anyway. “Y/n, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve already been stuck for god knows how long, and I’m sure you’d like to get to where you’re going. This is the easy part, okay?” 

“Okay,” you echo. 

James gives you an encouraging smile, retreating from the opening. “Alright, just set your legs out here,” he calls up. 

You sit down on the elevator floor, slipping your feet through so your legs are dangling in open air. A second later, strong hands grip the undersides of your thighs. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” James says. “I’m gonna ease you out, and I just need you to lean back so you don’t bump your head on anything, yeah?” 

You hum in response. He starts pulling you out of the elevator, his grip moving up your thighs to your bottom once it emerges. Your heart thunders, both from the intimate contact and from trusting your weight wholly to someone else. Soon you’ve cleared the opening. Another set of hands cups the back of your head to ensure you don’t hit it on the elevator floor, and then you’re sitting up, your hands landing on James’ shoulders for balance. They’re really quite substantial, you can’t help but notice, wide and full of thick, corded muscle. He tilts his head back, grinning up at you. 

“See?” he says. “Easy.” 

A dizzy little laugh escapes you, and James’ grin takes on a whole new quality. Something curious about it. He hoists you up in his arms, grip transferring to your waist so he can lower you to the floor. 

“Thanks,” you manage, looking up at him. You look at the other handful of firefighters around too, the embarrassment of your situation finally sinking in. Your face heats. “I really appreciate the help.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” James says. As the others start packing up equipment, his attention stays on you. “You sure you’re alright? Where are you going from here?” 

You do your best to give him a smile of your own. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just going home. I live on the sixth floor.” 

He hums. “Best take the stairs this time.”