angelcakeeee

[angelcakeeee]

I’m waiting for the inevitable Ollie audio. That’s how you know it’s about to get bad.

The amount of fluff recently is Making me staring at Erik again

[angelcakeeee]

Possessive Angel representation I feel so seen

“possessive David this possessive David that” WHAT ABOUT POSSESSIVE ANGEL HUH HOW ABOUT THAT.

•Angel who keeps their arms wrapped around his in public, glaring at anyone who looks at David for a little too long.

• Angel who sprays a bit of their perfume/cologne on the collar of David’s shirt before going out.

•Angel who shoves their wedding ring into anyones face who attempts to flirt with them.

•Angel who keeps a hand on David’s thigh, shoulder, or arm during meetings.

•idk that’s it

[angelcakeeee]

WAAAHH MY BOYYY

Compilation of David saying “I love you” for those who need it

[angelcakeeee]

AW WAIT THAT’S ME!!!!

All silliness aside I’m so so SO proud of the way this story came out, and I’m so happy I got to become friends with this wonderful author!! He puts his everything into his stories and it was so fun to brainstorm silly little first responder details to help add to the story!!!

Everyone please go read this fic, it’s SO GOOD.

My friends we are finally here! In just a little while I’m posting the last chapter of the Firefighter AU!!

I have a lot of people to thank, so I figured I would put it all into a post before the chapter so that you guys can get right to the meat of it.

I don’t know what to say besides thank you. To the twelve thousand people who have read it, to the hundreds of comments and kudos, to the kind tags and asks here on Tumblr, thank you thank you thank you. The love being poured into me for my writing has sustained me over these ten months of writing.

This piece isn’t perfect. It very much resembles a first draft, and I might come back in the future and tweak some things, but all in all, I am so satisfied with this piece. I truly think this is my best writing.

I’ll be moving on to more Redacted fic, finishing other pieces that have been put to the wayside in favor of this one, and working on some original stuff now that I’m done. Expect at least some more one shots in this universe if not full pieces!

Lastly, I want to give some shoutouts to those who have helped me along the way with this piece. I truly wouldn’t have been able to write this without the community that rose up around me.

Thank you to my fiancé, whose love of schlocky romance novels is what inspired a piece about burly firefighters. He knows about my obsession with Redacted and, when he sees me listening he often goes “oh, you’re listening to your other boyfriends?” While he’s not into this world, he’s listened to me ramble about this piece and my plans for so long that he might as well be. Thank you, honey. Without you, I wouldn’t know how to write about love.

Thank you to Crab Anon, my mysterious analyzer who deepened and complexified how even I thought about these characters. You made me consider things in so much more detail than I intended to when I started what was meant to be a 10 chapter, 20k word fanfiction. Thank you for your constant presence and support. If you ever feel like revealing yourself (although I have a pretty good idea of who you are ;D) please send me a message. I’d love to thank you personally!

Thank you to @moonvalley94 and @nillabeanwrites for reaching out and starting some wonderful friendships over my silly fanfiction. You two have shown me the depth of community and how much talking with those passionate about art can make it that much more meaningful. Please know so many details about this piece are they way they are because of you two.

Thank you to @angelcakeeee who made so much of the details in this fic real and tangible. Your experience as a first responder helped to deepen this world and make it tangible. Beyond that, you’ve folded me into your friends, given me creative room to breathe, and made me feel so much more confident about the realism of my writing. Thank you, my friend!

And finally, the biggest thank you of all to @romirola. My friend, I don’t know what to say. You knew about this fic before anybody else and you nurtured the idea for a short and sweet piece into what is essentially a full length novel. In the almost year that you and I have talked every single day, I have grown as a writer and a person. When I believed that I wasn’t capable of something like this, you pushed back. You believed I could do it more than I did until I met you there in that belief. Thank you. I am the writer I am because of you. Steel sharpens steel, my friend, and we are very sharp indeed!

Thank you again to everyone who has read, liked, kudos’d, commented, and asked. Please know that I’ve read all of your messages, and if I haven’t responded yet, I will in the coming days. I hope you’ve had as much fun with this story as I have, and that this last chapter ties everything up for you. I love you all!

[angelcakeeee]

Possessive things David does:

A hand on your lower back wherever you go. It’s a subtle reminder that he’s right with you, and a warning to others that you’re taken

Holding hands as well for the same reasons

If you’re wearing something short or revealing he’ll stand behind you, especially on stairs or escalators to prevent people behind from peeking

Pulls you close to him whenever you’re together. A hand around your waist. On your lower back. Intertwined with yours. On your cheek when he looks into your eyes. On your chin when he lifts your gaze up to match his.

Will always go with you to clubs. Who knows what creep might be there waiting to try something.

Holds your drink for you, covering it with his large hand.

Scans the people around you. Just incase anyone weird is there.

Will pick you up at night, regardless of where you are. At work, a friend’s party, across town, etc. He’ll always drive over to pick you up and take you home.

Wears his ring always and flashes it to people who are trying to flirt with him as a sign that he’s taken. (He’s hot, so I imagine he gets hit on a lot).

These small gestures are part of his love language.

And ofc Angel loves it <3

He’s never made them insecure of their relationship, and vice versa. They’re both head over heels for each other.

[angelcakeeee]

Everyone get hype it’s so good

fall set in with a shiver

Chapter 32

June 12

[angelcakeeee]

My OTP

When David senses Angel pulling at their hair, frustrated with work that isn't going anywhere, he decides it's time to intervene.

He walked up to them from behind, purposefully making his footsteps a little louder than usual to let them know he was there. (Angel gets so engrossed in their work that they jump a little if there's no warning) He rested the tips of his fingers on their shoulder to let them know he was there, and then he held it gently - just enough force to ask for their attention. David and Angel have gotten good at these wordless cues, and they read each other's actions like its their favourite book they know from cover to cover.

Angel turned their head around, but their eyes were still glued to the screen. David chuckled in resignation before using a warm hand to their cheek to guide their gaze to him. When he finally took them in, he frowned at what he saw. Dark circles under their eyes, a furrowed brow, and a desperate, helpless gaze in their eyes.

He kissed their forehead before soothing the crease between their brows with his thumb. Angel closed their eyes at the feeling, relaxing a little under his touch. They could tell what he was trying to say - since early in their relationship, they learned that David found it easier to communicate through touch rather than words, and so they learned to read his actions. His touch was soft and gentle, and it felt like a whispered message of care - that it was time to take a break.

Angel sighed, they didn't have enough willpower to go against him. And David certainly could tell. He leaned down and picked them up, guiding their legs so that they wrapped around his waist and their head rested against his shoulder. He smiled to feel Angel relax under his touch, leaning their body weight against him and his strong arms. They took the opportunity to feel them - hands squeezing lazily at his bicep as they flexed, holding them up. David scoffed, amused, and let them feel him over.

"You still have energy to do that?"

"Can't help it when the masterpiece is right in front of me, Davey."

[angelcakeeee]

the world (it burns through me)

Chapter 30: Freelancer

It got so dark this far away from the city.

TW: death, dead body, murder, blood, post mortem body tampering.

You knew from your time surrounded by medical professionals that, as the weather got warmer, shit started going sideways. Something about extreme heat, just like extreme cold, made people act a little crazy. You understood, in a way. In California, even after an unusually cool winter, the heat set in early and didn’t let up. You were clinging on to the brisk early mornings and late nights while Spring held on by its fingertips. 

Shifts weren’t the same without Vincent, but Milo did what he could to keep the tone light and familiar. You liked the guy, but you often found yourself closing your eyes in between calls and chasing the feeling of life when it was just the three of you, those few months you’d had during what you didn’t know were the good old days. 

It wasn’t as though Vincent was dead. He had spent a few months deciding what exactly he was prepared to do when he finally took the plunge. He left the 10-19 to become a 911 dispatcher. It was a job where he could still help people, still be involved in saving their lives, and he could spend most of his time sitting and was able to take breaks as needed. His assignment had been purposeful, zoning him to be dispatching the 10-19 often. It was weird, not having him close by, but he still joined the 10-19 on outings and events. He was part of the family, and David and Sam made it clear that if he ever felt it was time, he’d have a place in his home. 

Engine two had dispatched to respond to the Shaw house fire, although Tank and David’s spouse had been taken off by sprint units before you’d made it across town. You and Sam had come in for a short inventory shift when Vincent intercepted a call made to the 9-30 for all units to respond at Shaw’s request. You remembered the look on Sam’s face as the two of you arrived. Twisted up. Torn to pieces. 

You’d dropped him off at the hospital without another word shared between you. 

Shaw had done his best to tell you what sort of danger your family and the whole of the 10-19 was under, but you hadn’t understood it until you saw that house, lit up like a burnt offering against the dark of a late spring evening. You were grateful that, when Damien said the three of you could stay as long as you needed, he meant it. 

Sam went quiet after that. On shift and off, he was contemplative and suspicious, almost jumpy as he went about his work. Three days after the fire and under Asher’s tutelage as acting captain, you finally broke the tension. 

“Vincent texted me,” you said in the changing room that morning, just barely in your uniform. “He’s on shift this morning, so he might be dispatching us.” Sam glanced over, his eyes still distant with whatever was occupying the majority of his mind. 

“Well, Lord help us,” he drawled after a moment, “he’ll give us every exciting call he gets.” 

“We could bribe him.” You suggested with a shrug. 

“What could we get that Vincent Solaire doesn’t already have?” Sam laughed. “He’s got a mansion, designer clothes, ten sports cars-”

“Which he can’t even drive.” You provided with a grin. That made Sam laugh, a proper, deep laugh.

Sam and Milo both seemed preoccupied, and the shift passed in the comfort of shop talk. The three of you worked and worked well, but the shift, like all of your shifts lately, was missing the familiarity and friendliness the ambulance had always held for you. You supposed that was Vincent’s touch. He was almost unnaturally friendly, and you and Sam were just too alike. It was all work with you two. 

“All I’m saying,” you grinned as you counted through the gauze in the overhead storage, “is that if my kid stuffed a matchbox car up his nose and I couldn’t get it out, I would seek medical intervention before the two day mark.”

“Kids do stupid stuff all the time,” Milo responded from his position perched on the gurney as he pushed through the charts for the evening, “besides, you are medical intervention. Those folks just didn’t know how serious it was.” 

“The poor little guy was screaming his head off!” You replied. You ticked things off methodically on your list. “I don’t know, maybe I’m just a good person or something-” 

The tones went off. Vincent’s voice crackled over your radio. 

“Dahlia 911 to 10-19 Medical 2, for a 18-25 female found unresponsive at the corner of Park and Strand. No vitals reported, caller hung up after report.” You jerked and moved towards the front of the bus as Milo started shoving things back where they were meant to go. 

“10-19 Medical 2 to Dahlia 911, mark us in route 20:53,” you replied over the radio, strapping into the driver’s seat and only waiting for Sam to join you on the passenger side before peeling out of the ambulance bay. “Repeat, no vitals?” 

“Negative, Medical 2,” Vincent called back. You huffed out a quick sigh. 

“Park and Strand, that’s out by that nature reserve, right?” You asked, focusing on the traffic as the cars awkwardly peeled around the road to avoid you, full lights and sirens. 

“The one that William Solaire owns? Yes.” Sam replied. “Park is hardly a road, it’s all dirt. Hope you’ve got your hiking boots on, Probie.” 

“Worry about the princess back there.” You replied. 

“I heard that!” Milo’s voice called up from the back. He was firmly strapped into his seatbelt, as David has insisted everyone be at all times since the crash. 

You shook the sounds of a flipping ambulance out of your ears. 

“Who calls in an unresponsive person and then hangs up?” You screwed up your brow. You couldn’t imagine seeing somebody who needed help and not rushing to. 

“The guilty party?” Sam suggested. You shivered to think about that. 

The corner of Park and Strand was about as out in the boonies as Dahlia got. As you pulled up the bus and turned off the sirens, the headlights shone over a collection of trees too sparse to be a forest but too thin to be a plain. Sam popped up from his seat and was out of the bus before you’d properly stopped it. 

You followed behind him closely as he produced a flashlight and started stamping down the tall grass that grew up to your knees. Sam quickly found a path that had already been trekked through. Someone had carved their way through the grass, cut it like a knife from a hidden spot in its blades. The three of you followed it to its inevitable end. 

It was a girl, a young one, curled around herself in a patch of braided grass. She was lithe and short, and her rudy hair was shorn to the quick. Messy patches and slits along her scalp told you that it had been a hack job, not an intentional choice. Sam flashed his light around quickly before kneeling down next to her. His usual haste was missing. He moved slowly, cautiously.

He knew. You both did.

Slowly, cautiously, Sam rolled her to her back. Her body was rigid, rigor mortis had set in. Her eyes were open, her jaw slack. A series of brutal puncture wounds littered her stomach. There was a cut on her chest that ran up her neck like a trail of kisses. Her top lip was split into a scowl by another. Her face, gaunt and drawn, was scattered with a series of blown out, fresh tattoos. A series of shaky X’s lined the dark circles just under her cloudy left eye. The letter Q was carved into what would otherwise be a cute dimple on her right cheek. Over her left eyebrow, someone had carved the word PRECIOUS, as though they had been in a great rush to pack the ink. 

She didn’t exactly look like Tanker. But there was a quality about her, a soft, foxish cleverness to her cheeks and nose, that brought them to mind. That, and the fact that this poor girl had had their tattoos carved into her. 

“Post mortem.” Sam said hollowly, his body rigid. “He did this to her post mortem.” 

You stumbled back, hand on your mouth, as Milo turned. He looked a touch green, and he closed his eyes tightly against the scene. But you didn’t look away. You wouldn’t.

“He set this up,” Sam waved to the grass around them. You followed his hand and light. The grass was braided like hair into a spiral, resolving into its focal point. Chunks of her red curls were caught in its careful twists. It looked like a snapshot straight out of the Satanic Panic, something you’d expect to see in a horror movie. A pretty girl ritually sacrificed. A demon summoned. 

“Sam,” you said softly, “we’ve gotta call PD. We need police out here.” Sam was still for a moment, his gloved hand still on her shoulder, holding on tight. 

“Yeah,” he said eventually. He let go, stood up. He looked shell shocked. His face was slack and pale. You wanted to pull him away from this, both he and Milo, to tuck them back into the bus and drive out of whatever fucked up haunted house you’d stumbled into. 

“Go back to the bus,” you ordered. Sam was in charge of you, but this body had been staged to look like his partner. You were pretty sure you’d be ripping your hair out if some freak was murdering people who looked like Gavin. He needed somebody to take over, and you were there. “Let Vincent know. Call Dahlia Gen to get a DOA, okay?” Sam nodded, distant, and trudged towards the bus. 

Milo lingered, his back still turned, hands on his hips. 

“You too, Greer.” You said. 

“You ordering me around now?” 

“It’s so easy with such a little guy.” 

Milo didn’t laugh. 

“We can’t touch her, right?” He asked. 

“Crime scene.” You shook your head. “It’s bad enough we've disturbed her already.” Milo nodded, peaking over his shoulder at her curled up form like infant in the center of her grass bed. 

“I always think- it’s stupid,” He shook his head. Sam’s voice crackled over the radio. Vincent’s replied. 

“No,” you said softly. “Nothing is stupid when it comes to this stuff.” Milo huffed. 

“We see a lot of bodies. A lot of death. And I…” he hesitated again, face pinched. “With every single one, I wonder if they’re catholic. And then I get real sad when I think that nobody could give them last rites.” 

You nodded. Quiet cut across the dark night. A bird called in the distance, but you didn’t know what type.

“Do you have to get last rites before you die? Will you like… you don’t go to Hell if you don’t get them, right?” You felt a bit silly asking, but you weren’t exactly religious. 

“No,” Milo managed a smile, “no it… it’s a series of prayers that can… they give comfort to the person receiving them. As long as you’ve taken your baptismal rites and you have faith and you’ve confessed to your mortal sins, you’re good. It’s just…” he looked down at her again, his face less green and more… sad. “She must have been scared. And maybe it would have helped.” 

The call again, farther away. 

“Do you want to pray for her now?” 

Milo’s brow furrowed. 

“Yeah.” 

Latin sounded as good in a religious context as it did in a medical one. There was no hope you’d follow the prayer, but the curves of the language were familiar enough. You spent so much time learning the proper, traditional names for anatomy that Latin felt like a bedtime story. You’d certainly fallen asleep to your textbooks enough times. 

Milo’s prayer was interrupted by the sound of the bus’s engine revving. Your head snapped over, the headlights blinding you, but only for a moment before the lights turned. The sirens blared on, startling you badly for a moment. That moment was all it took, and the bus pulled away and tore down the road before you could even react. 

The call again, barely audible. It was just you and Milo and the corpse on the braided bed of grass. 

It got so dark this far away from the city.

[angelcakeeee]

EVERYONE SHUT UP AND GET EXCITED

it got so dark this far away from the city

Chapter 30

June 6th

[angelcakeeee]

thinking about how sam was probably looking at darlin the whole time they had their eyes closed during the “learning to heal with your vampire mate” audio. just thinking Many thoughts about that actually

[angelcakeeee]

Happy pride month to redacted as a whole none of those freaks are straight

[angelcakeeee]

AND IMMA STICK BY ‘EM.

dis ur alpha?

[angelcakeeee]

You don’t understand this is everything to me

Parallel Play

in which Anton and his love spend some time together

cw : a little nsfw!

“What are you doing?” They giggled as they were pulled to the other end of the couch, Anton’s hands gently guiding them back into his lap. His face tucked into the side of their neck so that his breath tickled them as he spoke.

“Oh nothing, just want you closer.” He mumbled before kissing that spot behind their jaw, he knew that was their favourite.

“You finally finished your work?” They asked, gesturing to his laptop that had been shut and discarded to the coffee table. He made an affirmative noise before shifting to lay back against the corner of the couch, bringing his partner back with him. They were used to his silence, the way he sometimes spoke through gestures and noises, and they knew he was asking them to rest with him.

“Hey, no way! I wanna get this square done!” They sat back up, though his arms did not let them get far, lingering on their waist as they continued the crocheting they had been fiddling with while he worked. It was a hobby they always enjoyed, but hadn’t had much time to indulge in until recently.

Anton loved his job, a freelance engineer hired by companies every couple of months to help with their projects. He loved his job, apart from the tight deadlines of the current project he was working on. It had been weeks of constantly bringing work home with him, spending hours each night debugging lines of code or adjusting blueprints for designs he was working on.

Hence, his partner’s decision to return to their love of crocheting. It gave the couple a nice way to spend time together; the gentle taps of Anton’s keyboard mixing with the clicking of their crochet hook. Sometimes the two watched TV or played music in the background, sometimes they just enjoyed the peaceful silence being broken by taps and clicks and quiet breathing. Both often found their gazes wandering, staring at their partner in admiration, enjoying their furrowed brows as they focused on their individual work. Occasionally a hand would find the others’, a gentle kiss on their knuckles before returning it to its task.

It made Anton’s heart ache. The simple domesticity. The enjoyment of just the other’s company with no pressure on what form that needed to take. The support he had from his partner, despite how busy he always was. The exhaustion from weeks of work was wearing at him. And all he wanted to do after finishing tonight’s allotted coding was to relax in the arms of the person he loved most.

However, the crocheting they took up as a counterpoint to his keyboard clicking had enamoured them too much. He loved how obsessively they strived to create, how happy they were after finishing a new plant pot cosy or mug coaster, filling the house with their labours of love. He loved this quality about them until it denied him them in his arms. Their newest creation - a large intricate granny square blanket, a beast of a project in hues of oranges and yellows and greens and purples - had captured their attention too wholly.

He sat back up, draping his body over their frame as the clicking of their hook started again. His record player was still playing one of his favourite albums, the sound blending with their quick rhythm in an odd but pleasant melody. They noticed the slight pout on his lips as his face entered their peripheral vision.

“How much longer my love?”

“Only a few more rows, then we should get started on dinner, yeah?”

A sigh escaped his lips. Yet another obstacle in the way of resting with his love in his arms.

They laughed at his childish exasperation, “I know! I know. But then we get to curl up and relax the entire rest of the evening.”

He knew they were right. But they didn’t know how much the time away from them the past few weeks had eaten at his patience. He yearned for more of them, them closer to him, their hair running through his fingers, their body pressed into his. He said words he didn’t fully mean. “I don’t mean to pull you away from your crochet my love, take as long as you need.” He didn’t want to deny them their simple pleasures, however to keep with their usual time together, he needed something to do with his hands too.

His lips traced their hairline with kisses, a small smirk growing on their face. He wrapped his arms around their waist, getting as close to them as possible until their back was pressed to his chest. A contented sigh left them as his kisses continued down their neck.

He paused to watch their deft hands at work. Looping yarn and twisting and slipping it off their hook to create a gorgeous pattern, shades of orange blending into the green they were introducing to the current square they were working on. Anton thought it would be a beautiful addition to their couch, realising they had matched the colours to the couch cushions. He loved their eye for detail in aesthetics, something he neglected as his work focused only on functionality and use. They slowed him down, made him appreciate beauty around him. The evidence was shown in the traces of them around his space, now overcome with plants and pillows and blankets. His previous apartment had been practical, as simple as possible to avoid it getting messy as he didn’t have time to clean. The only area with character was his work desk, bustling with paper and tools and half finished mechanisms.

The house they had bought together was completely different. He finally lived in a space he could call a home. They had forced him to let them fill every inch of it with colour and life and he was grateful he did every day he lived there. A constant visual reminder of how they improved his life.

He loved watching their fingers. Beautiful fingers, he thought, wanting to kiss each one. He resorted to kissing down their back instead, slipping their shirt down one shoulder to access more of their skin. Dipping his hands under their shirt to dance across their stomach, to massage their sides and up their chest while he sucked and nibbled and licked. Their breaths were growing louder now, but the clicking of their hook remained constant. He chuckled at their muscle memory not failing them, even while he tried to distract their mind.

A single finger dipped below the waistband of their shorts, causing a sharp intake of breath and their hips to jump slightly. He chuckled again. They finally realised what he was doing.

“You’re mean.” They mumbled, turning to face him. He thought this meant he had won their full attention, however the clicking remained, and they returned their gaze to their project after one chaste kiss.

“I’m not trying to make you stop your crocheting. You continue your hobby and I’ll continue mine.” He smiled, dipping his fingers once again under their shorts. He meant it. Anton wasn’t trying to make them choose him over finishing their craft, he just needed to hear the sounds of their pleasure, he needed to feel them writhe against him. He wasn’t a man of many words, he preferred to show his love and it had been so long since he showed them how much he craved them.

One of his arms stayed wrapped around their waist, holding them back against him while the other teased between their legs. He was slow, he liked to take his time, no need to rush their pleasure. They hummed in quiet satisfaction, crochet hook still clicking, as their man toyed with them exactly how he knew they liked. They lay back against him, positioning their hands higher up so they could continue working in their new position. This drove Anton wild. Feeling their body resting on him, opening their legs wider in silent plea of more. It was exactly what he craved, the simple bliss of knowing he made them feel good, that their body yearned for him the same way his did for them.

He kept his hand moving slow and gentle. His other explored their chest, kneading and massaging any tension away until they were a puddle in his arms. A puddle who still didn’t miss a beat with their crochet hook. His mouth on their neck caused the first moan to escape their lips, breathy and cut off like they surprised themselves with it. Anton loved that sound, and planned to do everything he could to make them do it again. Soon moans left them freely, and their head threatened to tip back in pleasure. Finally their dedication to their crochet was being tested. A single finger slipping inside of them was the tipping point.

They cast their work to the side and reached behind them to tug on their lover’s hair. He laughed at the reaction before their lips found him. They kissed him greedily, hungrily, like he was the last oxygen left on earth. His hand on them remained slow and determined, finally encouraging them over the edge gently. Ecstasy washed over them in waves that he stroked them through, adoring the way their body writhed and tensed in his arms.

When they finally stopped twitching in pleasure he kissed their temple, their breath returning to an even rate and their body once again going slack in his touch. They turned to straddle him, resting their head on his shoulder while he drew shapes on their back. The vinyl record reached the end of its last song.

“I know, I know, dinner before relaxing, right?” He teased.

“You’re too good to me.” They whispered.

“Never. You deserve so much more.”

They kissed his forehead. Then the corner of his eye. Then his nose.

“But I want you.”

And how could Anton deny them anything they wanted.

[angelcakeeee]

Hiiii loviesss !!

Here it is!! The 911 Dispatcher Angel x Firefighter David AU !!!

Tags: Redacted Audio, David Shaw, Angel, Asher Talbot, Milo Greer, Gregory Keaton, Vincent Solaire, 911 dispatcher AU, Firefighter AU, hurt/comfort, reverse comfort/shared comfort, Davey had a close call, Davey reassures Angel that he is (in fact) still alive, Anxiety makes Davey clingy, Davey is a volunteer firefighter because that’s what I am and that’s what I know how to write about, sorry he’s not fancy

I went a little creatively on this one, being a volley FF myself, I used inspiration from an actual call I went on recently. Firefighters make better lovers in my opinion so putting David in this AU was probably the best decision anyone ever made. On that note, there is implications of possible major character death, but everything ends up okay I promise <3

You cursed yourself quietly as you realized you had to dispatch Davey’s department to the structure fire that was called in. You typed out the entry into CAD, and sent out the tones. “Dahlia 911 to Dahlia Fire, automatic mutual aid Ferris Fire, Dahlia County Medical for a reported structure fire, Echo Priority. Possible entrapment of caller’s son’s girlfriend, 1201 Dahlia Turnpike.”

You watched the notification on your phone’s Life360 go off that Davey was leaving the station almost before you could even finish sending out the call. “Dahlia Fire Car One to Dahlia 911.” Davey’s voice called out over the radio.

“Dahlia Car One.” You acknowledged, fingers ready at the keyboard at Davey’s beck and call, even though you knew what he was going to say.

“Dahlia Car One, Dahlia Car Two, Dahlia Engine 10-1 on route.” Davey announced, then before you could reply— he continued. “Requesting tones for another driver and tanker crew.” You nodded your head as if he could see you and typed in his request into CAD so that the other volleys with IaR could see what was happening.

“Dahlia Car One, Dahlia Car Two, Dahlia Engine 10-1 on route, 13:23. Tones for Dahlia Fire, additional manpower for tanker.” You spoke, cool, collected. Practiced. You checked the time and were just about to drop the second tones for Ferris when you heard a voice over the radio.

“Ferris Tanker 17-2 to Dahlia 911.” The voice called. It was one you recognized, but not enough for you to put a name on over radio.

“Ferris 17-2.”

“Ferris Fire Car One, Tanker 17-2 on route.”

“Ferris Fire Car One, Tanker 17-2 on route, 13:25.” You couldn’t help but watch Davey’s location as he zoomed around in that fire truck, it always made you nervous. Squeamish, even. You sighed at the time and opened up your line, dropping the tones for EMS again. “Second tones for Dahlia County Medic requesting automatic mutual aid for structure fire, 1201 Dahlia Turnpike.” You tapped your fingers anxiously against the desk, your leg starting to bounce up and down anxiously.

“Dahlia 911, Dahlia Medic 1252.” Finally, those damn EMTs.

“Medic 1252.”

“Medic 1252 on route.”

“Medic 1252 on route, 13:26.” You glanced to the map, and were thankful that your coworker was working on getting the police there. You couldn’t stand talking to the police these days, they were far too sassy for you.

“Dahlia Fire Tanker 10-2 to Dahlia 911.” Milo’s voice. You took a breath of relief when you heard the familiar rasp across the radio and gratefully replied.

“Dahlia Fire 10-2.”

“10-2 on route.”

“Dahlia Fire 10-2 on route, 13:27.” Davey was getting close to the scene, and knowing that Milo was four minutes behind him was somehow nerve wracking. It made you wonder how much could happen in 4 minutes. It was frustratingly silent for a brief moment before you heard Davey again.

“Dahlia Fire Car One to Dahlia 911.” He called.

“Dahlia Car One.” You responded.

“You can show Dahlia Car One, Dahlia Car Two, Engine 10-1 on scene.”

You were nodding before he was even done speaking, typing everything in. “Dahlia Car One, Dahlia Car Two, Dahlia 10-1 on scene, 13:29.” You clicked across screens and watched from across the room as your coworker ended the call with the original caller, there was both Davey and Police there. You weren’t sure which would be more comforting to a stranger whose house is on fire.

You listened to the radio and responded as needed as Davey set up the scene, as the other trucks got there. Then, you helped get more mutual aid out. You requested a recovery trailer, made sure it got there as soon as possible, and kept an ear out for anything. It made you nervous when you heard Asher’s voice start responding for ‘Dahlia Command’ instead of David’s. That meant he was going interior.

And then, amongst the chatter of which hoses needed charged and who was filling up next, a slightly panicked sounding Davey came through the radio saying those three words every dispatcher and first responder dreaded to hear.

“Mayday, mayday, mayday!” He called, nearly barking it out. You scrambled for your radio button, missing it the first try.

“All responders hold radio silence for the mayday, go ahead Dayday— mayday— mayday— go for mayday.” You choked the words out like they were too big for your mouth. Your heart leapt into your chest and you could practically taste your own heartbeat as you sat on the edge of your chair.

“I am David Shaw, I was separated from my partner and I am unable to find my way out, I am low on air, and think I am in the back living room by the—“

And then you heard it.

The sound of something creaking and cracking and falling. Falling either on or close enough to Davey to knock his hand off his radio. It crackled and then fizzled before you heard his voice again. “Living room by the kitchen. The ceiling is starting to come down on me, I need immediate help.” Your eyes prickled when you heard his voice crack just a little bit. Just enough for you to nearly mistake it for his radio rather than him. Your coworker looked over at you and the two of you shared a wide-eyed expression before you ripped off your headset and nearly sprinted outside to your car. You didn’t even have time to process the sharp words of your boss calling after you as you scrambled into your driver’s side seat and peeled out of the parking lot like there was no tomorrow.

—

You got close to the scene and there was people standing by a roadblock with stop signs, you pulled up and flashed your dispatch ID, rolling down your window. “I am David Shaw’s spouse, I need to get to him.” You insisted, looking more panicked than anyone had ever seen you before. You couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not for a fucking volunteer department. The two traffic workers debated briefly, but seeing your panic somehow get worse each second they took to debate, they decided to let you through after giving a warning over the radio.

You drove your car through the scene, past where there were trucks dumping water into portable ponds, past waiting police officers, and down to the parking lot where the rehab trailer had been set up. You barely even had time to put your car in park— let alone turn it off— before you were getting out of it and putting your feet to the ground to get to the ambulance. Your fear loosened slightly when you saw Davey sitting up, alive, on the back of the ambulance. You kept running. You saw the moment he realized you were running for him, moving to pull the O2 mask off of his face to meet you halfway and nearly flinching when the EMT, someone who you didn’t care to question if you recognized in this moment, moved to stop him. You got up to your Davey and stood up in front of him, muttering a soft ‘no, stay there.’ When he tried to get up.

You couldn’t help the tears that pricked at your eyes as all of your emotions barreled past your wall of adrenaline. Your hands found David’s cheeks, and his found your hips. He was shaky, and despite his size, he seemed so… small in your grasp in this moment. His jacket had been taken off, wether by him or others you didn’t care to ask. He was in his bunker pants and Dahlia FD t-shirt, all covered in ash and soot. You could almost see the tension melt from his body as soon as your hands were on him. “Are you okay?” You asked, looking him over while tears brimmed in your waterline and threatened to fall onto your cheeks.

“Yeah, Angel.” Davey replied, nearly too quick for there to be even a whisper of a pause between your question and his answer. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you to stand between his legs and held you oh so closely. “I’m okay, baby…” he mumbled, the oxygen mask muffling him slightly. You didn’t care. You cradled his head into your chest and pressed a gentle kiss to his hair. The smell of smoke filled your nose as you did so, his own musky and earthy smell nearly completely masked by the stench of soot and fire.

You took a shaky, but deep breath, calming yourself and managing to fight back against those tears to calm yourself down a little more. Davey was here. He was okay. He was breathing, and he wasn’t hurt. One of his big hands was slowly brushing up and down your back, and you felt as his own body slowly began regulating back to a calmer state. That was something you always loved about your relationship with Davey. Each time you two got near each other the tension would melt off of you in waves. You leaned down to rest your cheek on top of Davey’s head and slowly pet over his hair. “I love you.” You whispered.

“I love you too, Angel.” His voice rattled your own chest as he spoke the words, with how close to you he was. You two stayed like that for a good while before you seemed to remember that there was an EMT awkwardly standing near you.

“Sorry.” You blurted out, only standing up rather than pulling away, keeping Davey’s head tucked close to your body. The EMT, who you now recognized as Vincent, gave you an understanding smile.

“Don’t you worry. I get it.” He glanced over to where the fire was still burning, and where additional manpower had shown up to. “If that were my partner, I’d be worried as all hell too.” You smiled, your own eyes shifting to the fire before going back to Vincent.

“He’s okay, though, right?” You asked, pulling away from David just enough to hold his face in your hands and give him a look over yourself. He melted into you and gave a little whine, one that earned a playful ‘aww’ from you.

“Yeah, he’s good. The plaster and shit falling on him knocked his mask’s seal loose so he was breathing in smoke for a while, but he’s doing good. No cuts or burns, but I’m sure he’ll have a hell of a bruise on his back by tomorrow.” Vincent was very matter of fact. You liked that about him. He told you exactly what you needed without sugarcoating and without trying to fluff things out to make you feel better. You nodded your head and raked your fingers through Davey’s hair to push it away from his face.

“How long does he have to stay here? How long does he need the mask?” You wanted to pull it off of him, it made your heart ache to see his face covered by it. Vincent shifted on his feet a bit and leaned against the ambulance, giving Davey a once over. He pushed off of the ambulance and reached over to his bag to grab his stethoscope and motioned to Davey. You kissed Davey’s forehead before pulling away from him. His hands lingered on you for as long as possible, and your hand found his. Your fingers intertwined with each other as Vincent stepped up to Davey, listening to his lungs and heart quietly before giving a short hum.

“He’s okay to take the mask off, but I’d prefer he stay on scene just in case, he’s still our chief and he could still have a coughing fit.” Vincent stated, pulling away from Davey and taking off his stethoscope. You nodded and moved right back over to your boy and gently pulled the mask off of him.

“Thank you, Vincent.” You smiled kindly and looked back at Davey with such a soft expression on your face. You could practically feel the love exchanging between you two, a warmth spreading across your features and reflecting back to you through Davey’s relief to be in your presence. You leaned down and kissed him, hands cupping his cheeks and thumbs brushing slowly back and forth across his cheekbones. He gave a muffled noise against your lips and pulled you right back into where you’d been between his legs moments before. When you moved to pull away to speak, his lips chased yours and he kissed you again. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, a soft chuckle escaping from your chest. “Baby—“ you tried to say, but it ended up muffled. Davey growled a little, a more possessive version of that soft whine he occasionally made, you’d learned. But, he let you pull away. “Why don’t we go sit in my car, huh? Then we don’t have to make poor Vincent third wheel.” You joked. Vincent laughed and pointed at you.

“I like how you think, small fry.” He looked over to David. “Go, relax, it will help you feel better.” David grumbled something under his breath and wrapped his arms around your waist, picking you up and throwing you right over his shoulder. You yelped, giggling and going slightly limp as to not make it any harder for him.

“Hey! You’re supposed to be resting!” You squealed, looking at Vincent with a ‘help me’ expression. He shrugged and shot you a ‘don’t look at me.’ Look right back. You could practically hear David roll his eyes and he started towards your car, putting you down only after he got to it. He opened the backseat and motioned for you to get in. You raised a brow at him but complied. You crawled into the backseat of your car, and Davey followed close behind. He leaned over to pull your legs onto the backseat, and you gave a small noise of surprise, watching Davey crawl in the backseat over top of you and pull the door closed behind him. “What’re you—“ Davey cut you off by kissing you, slow, gentle. He felt around blindly on the floor of the car and grabbed your work backpack, lifting you up by cupping the nape of your neck and placing it under you to get you more comfortable.

“Shh…” he hushed you, nuzzling into your neck and letting himself lie most of his weight onto you. “Just hold me…” His voice cracked, just a little, and your heart melted. Your hands found Davey’s scalp, and you gave him gentle scratches to his head.

“I’ve got you, sweet boy…” you breathed, kissing the top of his head as he settled in on top of you. “You’re okay, everything is okay…” You smiled and leaned your head back, letting your eyes slip shut. “You’re okay.”

[angelcakeeee]

Okay yall!! The 911 Operator Angel x firefighter David fic is DONE!! Proofreading it tonight and then you can expect to see it out then!!! Sorry it’s taken so longggg

[angelcakeeee]

young!darlin: you're not what I thought you'd be like

gabe: mean and scary?

young!darlin: [chuckles]

gabe: well I actually thought you'd be kinda mean and scary too

young!darlin: me?

gabe: terrifying

[angelcakeeee]

SOBBINGGGG

Darlin' who never allowed themselves to bask in the sunlight vs Sam who stops breathing when the light hits Darlin's hair and eyes just right