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zepskies · 10 months ago

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Thank you so much, friend! And wow, wow -- what a treat it is to hear your thoughts on my work again. 😍

But damn, Betsy is my worst nightmare 😂 I hate those old elevators! And then you go ahead and make my worst fears come true! Well, almost… at least the cable didn’t break in this one and she fell to her death, splattering on the ground. I guess not much daring would’ve happened after that one, huh? 😝

Lmfaoo same, because this legitimately happened to me (got stuck in an elevator for about an hour. I didn't have my cell, and no one could hear me because I was stuck somewhat between 2 floors. 2 ridiculously hot firemen pulled me out.)

And as her grandpa so "helpfully" pointed out, just like you, at least the cables didn't snap. 🫠

But then Lieutenant Dean Winchester to the rescue! Honestly, that charming man makes it worth being stuck in an old elevator. Elevator = nightmare. Dean Winchester in a uniform = daydream 💚 (Grade-A Hottie, indeed!) Also Dean and reader with their bingo card/fortune cookie comments killed me 😂

Ikr?? Just imagine the uniform lol. Jensen would absolutely kill a firefighter role. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 And LOL I'm so glad you appreciated that line. It made me smile while writing it. 😂

And then there’s Nick… Jesus Christ, is murder allowed in this fic? Can he fall down an elevator shaft?

First of all, love to see a fellow Friends fan. 😂 Second of all, you're really gonna wish Nick were dead in this story, even more so as we go on. (Dean would be the first one to drop him down into the dark abyss.) Believe me, there will be murder though. 🤣

And I don't blame you on that caramel frappe -- I'd gladly sacrifice my $6 Starbucks to coat that asshole's face in scalding coffee.

Speaking of killing off characters, don’t you dare kill off Grandpa George! That sweet old man stole my heart and needs to be protected at all costs 🥹😭❤️

Aww I'm so glad you love George already! I loosely based him off my own Cuban grandpa lol, who shares the same name (Jorge).

But omg I love the OG Charlie and the Chocolate Factory!! Wonderful book, classic movie. (Love Gene Wilder, RIP.)

And lastly, I was with the reader at the end there. Bringing some hot firefighter food for the purpose of saying “thank you” is surely awkward. Especially when about 99% of the women he saves do probably exactly that so they can see him again 😂 But baking cookies for the whole firehouse is an excellent idea! Besides, we already know Dean’s got his green eyes on her as well 😏

Yeah I would be too embarrassed to put myself out there like that, but baking for the whole crew, that takes the pressure off loll. I'm sure other women would do that and more though. 🤣🤣 (And he definitely does. 😏)

Thank you again for your lovely thoughts, hun!! Looking forward to what you think of future chapters. 💕

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

#reader appreciation #lovely mutuals #smoke eater feedback #class and style

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000vault · 4 years ago

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I love a man who ain’t afraid to spend it

#me #mypost #cuban #myupload #bella hadid #kendall jenner #kim kardashian #kylie jenner #losangeles #music #streetwear #tumblrgirl #hottie #hotgirlsummer #megan thee stallion

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lookwhereyagoing · 5 years ago

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Been watching reruns of “Law & Order: SVU” today and this guy is on. He’s still got it.

#raul esparza #law & Order: SVU #Cuban hotties

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historical-babes · 5 years ago

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Che Guevara (1928-1967).

Argentine Marxist revolutionary, physician, author and diplomat.

A major figure of the Cuban Revolution, his stylized visage has become a ubiquitous countercultural symbol of rebellion and global insignia in popular culture.

After graduating as a physician in 1953, he did an internship at Mexico City's General Hospital, where he carried out allergy research, but left in 1955 to join Fidel and Raul Castro’s Cuban Revolution as their doctor. As a young medical student, Guevara traveled throughout South America and was radicalized by the poverty, hunger and disease he witnessed. After witnessing “the shivering, flesh-and-blood victims of capitalist exploitation,” Che was determined to fight the system.

Though trained as a healer, also, on occasion, acted as the executioner (or ordered the execution) of suspected traitors and deserters.

He also became well known in the West for his opposition to all forms of imperialism and neocolonialism and for his attacks on U.S. foreign policy. He served as chief of the Industrial Department of the National Institute of Agrarian Reform, president of the National Bank of Cuba and minister of industry.

Guevara expounded a vision of a new socialist citizen who would work for the good of society rather than for personal profit, a notion he embodied through his own hard work. Often he slept in his office, and, in support of the volunteer labour program he had organized, he spent his day off working in a sugarcane field.

He was a huge lover of poetry.

He was married twice : Hilda Gadea (1955) ; Aleida March (1959) and had five children.

He was executed by the Bolivian army.

[Submission]

#history #beauty #historical babe #historical crush #historical hottie #history babe #history crush #history hottie #hottie #submission #Argentine history #Argentina #che guevara #revolutionary #Cuba #cuban revolution #Marxist #Marxism

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hotguyssexynavels2 · 3 years ago

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Instagram hotties

Marco Moreira (Portuguese)

Nuno Moreira (Portuguese)

Fernando Junior Alves (Brazilian)

Paulo Leite (Brazilian)

Richard Cippollini (Brazilian)

Christopher Senaldi (Swiss-French)

Michael Tubur (Israeli)

Dalio Dane (German/Italian)

Kassio Lessa (Brazilian)

Lucas Montilla (Brazilian)

Elia Cometti (Italian)

Javier Rept (Spanish)

Anthony Lorca (Spanish)

Rammon Carvalho (Brazilian)

David Oberto (Panamanian)

Mauricio Lagrecca (Brazilian)

Leonardo Monteiro (Brazilian)

Bill Aggelopoulos (Greek)

Sascha (German)

Harry Debortoli (Brazilian)

Matheus Fabian (Brazilian)

Leo Zan (Brazilian)

Andreas Eriksen (Norwegian)

George/Jorge (Spanish)

Sagi Shuvali

Daniel Astudillo (Mexican)

Wadih Vilela Amado (Brazilian)

Wandson Fialho (Brazilian)

Lucas Caceres

Daniel Lisser (Israeli)

Marcelo Pagnoncelli (Brazilian)

Julien Paje

Steven Epprecht (Swiss-German)

Guilherme Godinho (Brazilian)

Orlando Baronne (Brazilian)

Erik Vilar (Brazilian)

Tiago Camelo (Brazilian)

Yoav Even (Israeli)

Ramiro Lozano (Mexican)

Joao Bossle (Brazilian)

Jean Simoes (Brazilian)

Bradley Commerford (Spanish-American)

Tacilo Assis (Brazilian)

Hugo Trajano (Brazilian)

Alejandro Acostag

Matheus Queiroz (Brazilian)

Sean Daniels (American)

James William (Australian)

Adam Ayash (Lebanese-American)

Jaden Goetz (Canadian)

Dean Pelic (Croatian)

Corentin Gruson (French)

Robert Scott Wilson (American)

Kamil Nicalek (Polish-American)

Jay Gould (American)

Garrett Hawley (American)

Michael Yerger (American)

Lucas Viana (Brazilian)

Tobias Reuter (German)

Horia (British)

Andres Milan (Colombian)

Douglas Jacob (Brazilian)

Christophe Kyo (French)

Terry Wauters (French)

Fernando Guitierrez Romano (Cantabrian)

Carlos Lazo (Cuban)

Dominic Calvani (Brazilian-American)

Josh Watson (British)

Masked Mateo (Latino-American)

Habib Caiado (Brazilian)

Franco Touceda (Argentenian)

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bitter69uk · 3 years ago

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Born on this day: Cuban American bandleader, comedic actor, pioneering television producer and the man forever remembered as Ricky Ricardo - Desi Arnaz (Desiderio Alberto Arnaz y de Acha III, 2 March 1917 - 2 December 1986)! This early pinup is a nice reminder of what a hottie Arnaz was. Dios mio! Muy guapo! Gee, whatever did Lucy see in him?

#desi arnaz #ricky ricardo #i love lucy #cubano #cuban american #lobotomy room #heartthrob #dreamboat #latino hunk #lucille ball

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hannigramficrecs · 4 years ago

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Newly Added Fics 4/18

Here’s all the fics I’ve added to my index this week! As usual, I’ve emboldened the fics I really liked and italicized the ones that are incomplete.

I’ve also added 3 new sections to my index and added a bunch of fics there as well!

Season 1

Season 2

Season 3+

Until I Met You by Dormchi [words: 33,990] — (AU)

Detective Will Graham needs an expert and Fire Lieutenant Hannibal Lecter happens to be available. Basically this is just arson, murder, coffee, and fluff.

Railroad Romance by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles [words: 12,400] — (AU)

Hannibal is still Hannibal, and Will is still Will. Except Will is not part of the FBI and they meet on a two day train trip from New Orleans to Baltimore.

They Came to Florence by shiphitsthefan [words: 5,122] — (AU + Killer Will)

Dr. Hannibal Lecter has a thriving psychiatry practice and a not-so-secret obsession; William Graham has an impressive writing career and not a single goddamn clue.

Friends To Lovers by Sirenja, TigerPrawn [words: 8,008] — (AU + A/B/O)

When Harry Met Sally AU

Consortio by kelex [words: 23,088] — (AU + A/B/O)

Every Omega in the land is brought to the lord on the evening of their first heat. Lord Hannibal usually doesn't choose to exercise that right, but this night's offering is too much for him to pass up. A virgin Omega in his first heat, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a spirit that can't be broken.

Sharing A Bed by TigerPrawn [words: 4,150] — (A/B/O)

Will, Hannibal, Jimmy and Zeller are sent to Butfuck Nowhere on a case and the small hotel has messed up the booking leaving them with only 2 rooms between the 4 of them. And specifically Omega Will having to share with Hannibal, the only Alpha on the trip.

Stormchaser by YouAreMyDesign [words: 6,465] — (A/B/O)

One thing, Hannibal knows absolutely; Will is empty, all the time. He aches to be filled.

Pathology by YouAreMyDesign [words: 14,129] — (A/B/O)

In his periphery, Hannibal's head tilts. "Tell me," he purrs, "how exactly does one your age come to enroll in an FBI training facility?"

Monster Fucker by slashyrogue [words: 1,709] — (Fantasy)

Will's preference in lovers is rather taboo especially for an omega, but he's rather content to keep continuing to bed monsters. He's never found a human alpha whose scent calls to him and doesn't expect to take a mate. When he comes to one of their sessions showing off vampire bites Hannibal is more than intrigued. He's thrilled. This is his omega, and he's not letting him leave until he makes that a reality.

Pretend by slashyrogue [words: 888] — (Fluff)

Hannibal and Will pretend to be boyfriends in order to lure The Sweetheart Stalker. Will finds out that Hannibal is the perfect fake boyfriend.

Office Santa by Llewcie [words: 2,787] — (Fluff)

In which team Sassy Science conspires to get Will and Hannibal to choose each others names for the office Santa gift exchange, because no one else wants either of them.

Fondness And Weakness by Cinnamaldeide [words: 1,932] — (Fluff)

It takes Will a while to notice Hannibal unexpectedly shares his fondness for animals.

Companion by MacandLacy [words: 51,925] — (Incest)

An AU where a young Will is kidnapped and grows up with the Lecter’s with Robert as his adopted Father/Uncle, and Hannibal as…..Hannibal.

The Moth and the Dark by emungere [words: 7,511] — (Jealousy)

One of them has to bend. Hannibal decides it should be him.

Jealous Sea by Murder_Cupcake [words: 2,928] — (Jealousy)

Hannibal and Will were having a wonderful morning in a pleasant Cuban bar near the beach until the unexpected appearance of an acquaintance of Hannibal, and Will couldn't control his feelings.

Omegahood by LittleSpacePrince [words: 15,706] — (Mpreg)

Who knew omegahood would fit Will Graham so nicely...

Professor Graham's Cheekbones Hotty & Extraordinary Foodie Husband by TheSilverQueen [words: 3,320] — (Outsider POV)

Online classes due to the quarantine are how Professor Graham's students learn that: 1) Professor Graham has a cute dog; 2) Professor Graham is married; and 3) Professor Graham's husband is smoking hot.

The Genesis by viaorel [words: 6,736] — (Outsider POV)

It all started when Alana Bloom, a social worker in an orphanage, was given a task to accompany a renowned married couple willing to adopt. What she did not suspect, however, was that all had been premeditated and taken care of long before the sleek black Bentley pulled up at the doorstep of the institution. And thus began her fall down the rabbit hole that would either destroy her or lead to a liberating genesis.

Pushing Us Into Self-Destruction by IBegToDreamAndDiffer [words: 16,538] — (Outsider POV + Prison)

Clarice Starling needs help with a case, so she pays a visit to Will Graham, who's incarcerated in the Baltimore Sate Hospital with his partner.

Leave Your Message After The Tone by OneWhoSitsWithTurtles [words: 7,775] — (Prison)

Imagine Will calling Hannibal’s cell phone after he’s incarcerated just to hear Hannibal’s voice on his voicemail. Imagine Will leaving Hannibal voicemails about how he wishes things had turned out differently. Imagine Will spilling his heart out to Hannibal’s voicemail, assuming that the man himself will never hear them. Imagine Hannibal listening to these messages.

Inconvenient by HigherMagic [words: 5,756] — (Prison + A/B/O)

Transporting them had gone surprisingly well. While waiting for an official sentence, they were to be held in a high-security facility, similar to the BSHCI, but more remote, so that if they were to, somehow, escape again, it would be a long trek on foot before they approached anything usable, and the cavalry would overtake them before they could.

Denial by Murder_Cupcake [words: 1,215] — (PWP)

Will is incredibly bored at one of Hannibal's dinner parties. Because of that, he decides to tease Hannibal a little bit. The result is better than expected, despite the measure he took - but Hannibal isn't going to let him get away with it without some punishment.

Oh Dear by Lunarwench [words: 5,585] — (PWP)

“I wish you could make me pregnant.” Hannibal's pupils blast open, and something seems to crack on his face.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal fanfiction #hannigram fanfiction #hannibal fanfic #hannigram fanfic #hannibal fic recs #hannigram fic recs #hannibal au #hannigram au #will graham #hannibal lecter #nbc hannibal #hannibal tv #will x hannibal

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annie-bunny-out-there · 7 years ago

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Raul is fine as hell in Glasses!

Can Raul PLEASE wear his glasses on SVU, cause damn he is just even more of a hottie lamottie in them!

#Raul Esparza #rafael barba #Law and Order: Special Victims Unit #hottie #cuban guys #my baby

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tuiccim · 4 years ago

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I Remember All of Them (Part 4)

Pairing: Bucky X Reader

Words: 1.4K

Warnings: Sass, language, my limited knowledge of motorcycles.

Summary: After Hawkeye’s retirement, you are assigned to the Avengers as the new sharpshooter. You form a special friendship with Bucky but when friends turn to lovers Bucky suddenly turns cold. Were you just another conquest of Bucky Barnes’ or was something deeper at play?

Part 3: Nearly two months into being an Avenger, you’re ready for some time off with friends.

I Remember All of Them Masterlist

Seven weeks on the team had been crowded with missions and training. You had formed an easy bond with all of your teammates and were especially close to Bucky. You teased each other mercilessly, helped each other out, and seemed to anticipate each other’s moves both on and off the battlefield.

Today, you were excited. Your friend Alex was delivering a motorcycle to you. It was a fixer-upper that Alex got for a great deal. You were the first call about it. Now that you were at the compound, you had the room for a motorcycle and could work on the project during downtime. If that ever happened.

You are waiting in the garage for Alex when you hear the elevator and Bucky and Steve walk out. “Hey guys.”

“Hey. Working on your car?” Steve asks.

“No, my friend Alex is delivering a bike to me. It’s a project. You know, for the downtime you keep saying we’re going to have at some point.” You snark.

“Hey, no missions until Tuesday! At least it’s a three day weekend.” Steve says.

“What are you guys up to?” You ask.

“We were going to take our bikes out for a ride.” Bucky says. “You wanna come?”

“Nah, you guys need your male bonding time.” You joke. “Plus, I haven’t seen Alex in a few months.”

“This is your friend that owns the shop?” Bucky asks.

“It’s a family business.” You say. “There she is!”

Alex’s truck pulls into the compound and you are hopping up and down clapping your hands like the dork you are.

“She?” You hear in unison from behind you.

“Yeah.” You smile at the two. “Would you like to meet her? She’s quite lovely.”

“Sure. Any friend of yours.” Steve smiles.

The elevator dings again and Sam enters the garage. “Hey Sam.” You call.

“Hey. Is your friend here yet?” He asks.

“Pulling up now.” You smirk. You had asked Sam to meet Alex. You were playing matchmaker, just a little.

The truck pulls in and Alex jumps out of the driver’s seat. “Hey, Chica!”

“Hey, Cubana!” You call back and run to hug her. “Can I introduce you to my teammates?”

“If you’re referring to the three hotties staring at us, the answer is definitely yes.” Alex grins.

“Alexandra Navarro, I’d like you to meet Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Sam Wilson.” You bite your lip as each guy trips over themselves to shake Alex’s hand. You can’t blame any of them. Alex is an intensely beautiful woman. Her Afro-Cuban heritage shines through her tawny skin, long dark hair, and curvy body. Her wide eyes are a rich dark brown and a broad, button nose flows down to full lips.

“Nice to meet you all.” Alex smiles. “Would you guys be willing to help me get the bike out of the truck?”

“On it.” Steve jumps into the back of the truck and hands the bike down to Bucky as if it weighs nothing.

“Thanks, guys.” You say. “Well, I don’t want to keep you two from your bike ride.” You pat Steve and Bucky.

“We were hoping to hear more about your bike.” Bucky smirks down at you.

“My bike or my friend?” You whisper to him.

“Your bike.” Bucky points to himself. “Your friend.” Bucky points to Steve who seems to be in competition with Sam for Alex’s attention.

You giggle quietly, “Let’s check it out.”

You and Bucky begin to inspect the bike.

"A Harley, huh?" Bucky smiles.

"Yeah. 1971 Electra Glide. She got me an incredible deal on it. Just gotta get it running." You grin.

“I'd love to help you.” Bucky says.

"I'd like that. Thanks. I was ready for a project and I'm excited to take this thing out cruising once it's done."

"Hope you'll let me tag along." Bucky says.

"Of course!" You smile and then look over at Alex with the two. You raise an eyebrow at her and she gives you a signal clearly indicating a call for help. You call out, "Hey Steve! Come look at this."

Steve reluctantly walks away from Alex and joins you and Bucky. "What am I looking at?"

"My face while I tell you to stop cockblocking Sam." You say in a low voice.

"What the hell does that mean?" Steve looks confused.

"It means she wanted to meet the Falcon and I'm trying to pull a little Emma action here. Can you stop messing up our plans?" You give him a look.

"Sorry." He says while rubbing the back of his neck. "She's gorgeous and, ya know…"

"I know. I've got some other gorgeous friends if you want me to set you up though." You grin and nudge him with your shoulder.

"I might take you up on that if they are anywhere near as gorgeous as you and Alex." Steve smiles.

You bark a short laugh, "I'm nowhere near as pretty as Alex."

"That's true." Bucky says and your heart hurts at his ready agreement. "You far surpass her, Doll."

"Awwww, you know just how to make a lady's heart go pitter-patter, Tiger." You say jokingly to guard your own feelings towards the supersoldier. You and Bucky had become great friends, but you were careful not to let yourself fall for him. It was hard not to. He was everything you wanted, but you were just one of the team, a good friend. You completely miss the crestfallen look on Bucky's face that you'd blown off his compliment so easily.

You pull out your toolbox from the back of the Impala and start checking different things on the bike.

"Getting started already?" Alex laughs as she and Sam walk over.

"No time like the present, right?" You say.

"I thought you were going to give me a tour of the compound?" Alex raises an eyebrow.

"Ohh, right. Um, Sam, can you start the tour and I'll find you guys in a few minutes? Just want to check a couple of things on the bike first."

"Love to. My lady." Sam grins, holding an arm out to Alex.

Once the two are out of sight, you turn back to Steve and Bucky with a grin. "I think I planned that perfectly."

"It's only a few minutes." Steve says.

"But there's so much to look at with this bike. I'm sure a few minutes could easily turn into an hour." You laugh.

"I guess we'll head out for our ride." Steve looks at Bucky.

"Uh, yeah, okay. If you need us to pick up anything while we're out, text me." Bucky says.

"Thanks. I'll let you know. Have fun!" You smile and watch as the two leave. Bucky looks incredibly hot with a bike between his legs. You shake the thought away and turn back to your own bike.

A few hours later, Steve and Bucky return to find you, Alex, Sam, Wanda, Nat, and Vision sitting around the common room talking and laughing. Bucky makes his way over and sits next to you. He stretches out and puts his arm along the back of the couch. Nat raises an eyebrow at you and you roll your eyes at her.

"Hey, Doll." Bucky smiles at you.

"Hey, Tiger. How was the ride?" You ask.

"It was great. Steve and I hadn't been out for a while. It felt good." Bucky says.

"That's great."

"How's the bike?" He asks

"It's great. I don't think it'll take too much to get it running." You smile.

Bucky looks at you for a moment. His eyes flickering over your face.

"What is it?" You ask.

"I was serious earlier." Bucky says.

"About what?"

"How beautiful you are."

"Thanks, Buck." You lean into him and throw an arm around his waist to give him a squeeze. He puts his arm around you and squeezes, too. You both stay comfortably like that during the rest of the conversation with your friends.

"So, what club are we going to tonight?" Nat asks.

"We're going clubbing?" You ask excitedly.

"Yeah. The whole team." Nat smirks at the guys.

"Alex, you'll come too right?" You ask.

"I don't have a dress here or anything." Alex says.

"You can borrow one. You have to head back to the city anyway. May as well join us for some fun. We can go to Carlos' club!" You exclaim.

"What's the scene?" Wanda asks.

"Salsa. It's amazing." You clap your hands.

"Let's get ready!" Wanda bounces off the couch.

"Come on, Alex. We'll find something for you to wear between our three closets." Nat encourages.

"Okay. I know when I'm beat." Alex laughs as she joins the three of you.

"Departure in 90 minutes. And everyone is going, Steve." Nat dictates.

Part 5

Permanent: @bubbabarnes @badassbaker @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger @cherthegoddess @drunkbucky @sherlocksmanwatson @cap-n-stuff @finleyjayne

I Remember All of Them: @kmuir1 @loveisdonewell @liebs82 @calwitch @supernaturalwintersoldier @kimvmarvel @thejemersoninferno

Masterlist

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