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sheetsonfire · 2 years

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Five Times and A Date

Fandom: Chicago Fire

Pairing: Matt Casey x Reader

Genre: Meet-cute, romance, fluff, drama

Warnings: Trapped underground, brief descriptions of injury

Word Count: 5774

Summary: Five times Matt Casey and the reader meet, and one time they go on a date.

A/N: Part of @resanoona's #resa.3kfiestabingo! This fic fills the "5+1" square! It was going to be my Coffee Shop AU but it took on a different life of its own, haha.

The First Time

The first time you meet Matt Casey, he’s a total stranger.

He’s approaching your spot on the sidewalk, you stand in front of a coffee shop, seemingly looking for a key to get in. He’s about to go past without another thought, but he takes note of the way you’re rifling through your bag, purposeful and desperate. He can hear you muttering to yourself as you come to a terrible realisation.

You let out a disgruntled whine of frustration that was quickly escalating into anger with yourself. You knew this day was coming, and here it was. The loose clasp on your keychain that held all of your work keys had finally come untethered, separating the main door key from the rest of the herd. That key was now nowhere in sight, possibly stuck in your bedroom or by your own front door, or even riding around on the L Train next to someone’s feet.

Now you were left locked outside the coffee shop as the shift opener, with another hour to go until someone else would or could show up. Instantly your brain begins to whir with thoughts of how delayed you and everyone else would be because you hadn't replaced the keychain sooner.

In the midst of your internal anger, you hear a quiet clearing of a throat, with hesitant footsteps approaching closer. You spin sharply to glare at the stranger who had intruded on your spot outside the shop, this morning of all mornings.

At first glance, your brain rather embarrassingly notes, perhaps too fast, how handsome the stranger is. Neatly kept hair, kind eyes and a disarming air about him, his hands already out in a placating kind of gesture.

“Good morning, uh, couldn’t help but notice you seem stressed. Are you locked out?” He asks, and it feels like you’re talking to Captain America himself, he’s polite and apparently eager to help.

Of course, you can’t know for a certainty that this stranger is any of the things your sleep-deprived and underpaid brain is telling you he is, especially in such a short space of time. You sigh, hesitating before you answer.

“I might be… Who’s asking, and how do you know I’m not trying to break in?” You’re defensive and you don’t know why, it was hardly the man’s fault you were in your major pickle. Besides, the soft smile and hint of amusement on his face really didn’t scream ‘nuisance’.

The stranger scratches the back of his head, looking for an answer that would satisfy your scepticism.

“Well, uh, I’m Matt Casey, I’m a firefighter over at Firehouse 51, and I happen to work construction on the side - so I know a few things about locks like those.” He points to the door that remained firmly locked and shut, its lack of openness mocking you silently as you hoist your bag back up your shoulder, the rest of your keys clutched in your fist.

Matt, as you now know him, continues, “As for how I know you’re not breaking in, well, no offence but if you’re a thief working in broad daylight, with no mask, walking around in hospitality clogs that aren’t great for running, and you’re trying to break in with keys you apparently know won’t work? That’s kinda weird.” He shrugs, smiling in a slightly teasing fashion.

You roll your eyes, allowing yourself a noise of amusement. He had several points and you weren’t going to deny the man any of them. The laughter bubbles out of you before you know it, covering your face with your palm in slight embarrassment. Your defensiveness had gotten the better of you, and you can’t find it in yourself to keep giving this guy a hard time.

Matt seemed genuine, looking him up and down you could see that he was indeed in station gear, wearing what looked to be a CFD jacket with a goat on the emblem.

You’re about to say something when he nods his head across the street, “That’s my truck over there, it has my construction details on the side…Just in case you wanted to take down the info. I appreciate being approached by a stranger whilst you’re alone at 6 am isn’t exactly a comforting prospect.” He stops talking, and then, “Sorry, now I feel like I’m trying too hard to earn your trust, I’ll just-” He moves to walk away, giving you extra space.

Instantly you don’t want him to go, there’s some kind of pull in your mind that seems to mean more than the need for an emergency locksmith.

“Matt.” You blurt, stopping his worried ramble. “Matt, is it?” He nods, and you hold your hand up in apology.

“Sorry, yeah, you caught me off guard but I can see you’re just trying to help, and I’m so desperate to get into this godforsaken building, I’ll take whatever help’s passing.” Your lips turn up into your own teasing smile, “Besides, there’s like a bajillion cameras around here, and how could you have possibly known I’d be here unless it was pure luck?” You stop, then, “Great, now I’m overtalking.”

There’s a pause between you both, locking eyes with each other as you smile stupidly. Matt can feel his cheeks heat up ever so slightly at your scrutiny, he shakes his head with a chuckle, “Start over?”

You share the laughter, shaking your head at the both of you. “Start over.”

Matt clears his throat, gesturing to the door behind you, “So, I couldn’t help but notice you’re locked out. Need help?”

You’re enjoying this little charade, but then you feel a flurry of panic in your stomach, realising you don’t have the cash to pay for the work. “I think I’d really appreciate that, Matt, but I’d have to figure out payment, so-”

Your new acquaintance very quickly protests, “Hey, come on, who said anything about money? Now that would be an ass move, offering my help and presenting you with a bill after? Not my style.” He stops, realising he hasn’t got your name in return. “What’s your name, if I can ask?”

“Oh! Sorry, yeah, it’s uh, it’s Y/N.” You offer, realising that with every passing exchange you’re finding Matt extremely approachable.

“Okay, Y/N, nice to meet you. Let me just get my tool bag, alright? See what we’re working with.” He offers a reassuring smile now.

“Nice to meet you, Matt. Thanks, that would be great.”

You exhale, feeling excited that your problem was going to be over soon, folding your arms over your chest as you watch him move to the truck. Already deciding you would thank your saviour with hot coffee, a sweet treat and an invite to come back any time, on the house.

The Second Time

The second time you see Matt Casey is on the local news saving a kid from a high-rise building in a very daring rope rescue. Of course in his brief interview with the news crew, he is reluctant to take the applause or gratitude, drawing attention to his fellow firefighters and the joint effort all of their work requires.

You kick yourself for not getting Matt’s number after he had sorted out the lock, it wasn’t as though you didn’t have the chance when he was sitting at a table with you, drinking coffee and indulging in the raspberry and vanilla creme danish you’d given him.

You consider swinging by his Firehouse, but you’re not really sure what you’d say or do. You thought there had been some kind of rapport there when you’d first met, but your self-confidence had since dwindled, enough that you felt you couldn't justify the visit without feeling like a stalker.

You sigh as you taste the pasta sauce in your pan, checking for the right amount of flavour and seasoning. If the universe gave you another opportunity to see Matt Casey in the flesh, you’d get his number.

The Third Time

The third time you see him it’s in a way that had not even remotely been on your wheel of fortune. You were trapped in a derailed subway car, with no major injuries but pretty banged up. There's a sizeable lump on your forehead and a gash on your arm that wouldn’t quit leaking blood. It was a less-than-ideal end to your shift.

“Fire Department! Call out, and let us know where you are if you can!” At first, his voice is just a voice, you’re not totally focused on him in the haze of darkness and smoke, haphazardly thrown between two sets of seats, besides the smashed glass of a window.

The sound of people’s distress and the emergency alarms in the tunnel are a distraction. The lights on the firefighter helmets feel like alien beams coming down the subway car to take you back to the mothership.

“Fire Department, call out!” There that voice is again, why did it make your stomach flip? Why did it make you feel safe?

Oh. Oh. Yeah. He’s a firefighter, that’s Matt!

“Matt?” You try calling out, realising you hadn’t spoken since before the accident. Your voice crackles in the hubbub, making you inaudible. You try again.

“Casey, I’m here! Matt?!” You cough in the smoke, wincing with a small groan as you knock your arm against one of the support poles, aggravating the swollen and stinging flesh.

There’s a beat of silence, only the sounds of machinery and boots stomping, and then, “Y/N? Is that you? Y/N, call out!”

“Here!” You try again, your voice is loud but strained.

The boot steps are moving faster now, until a frantically moving beam of light lands on your face, moving quickly out of your eye line when Matt realises he's burning your retinas.

His worried eyes look you over, noticing the grease and grime as well as the blood, the bruising on your face and forehead is apparent. He crouches in front of you, gentle gloved hands outstretched to assess quickly. “Y/N, where else are you injured? Can you stand?”

Your voice shakes, the adrenaline of everything that had transpired firing your thoughts a mile a minute, the reality of the situation sinks in now that a familiar and caring face was in front of you. “Uh, j-just my head and my arm, I think, they’re the worst. I think I could stand.”

Matt nods, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Listen, Y/N, I have to keep looking for people, but my buddy Otis is gonna help you get out of here and to safety, okay?” He nods over at another firefighter, the one you assume is Otis.

You wished Matt was coming with you, but you weren’t so totally wrapped up in your desire to be close to him to protest or show your need. Whoever Matt trusted, you trusted.

Brian, or ‘Otis’ as he was apparently nicknamed, was fun to talk to, he had kept you distracted from looking at any of the horrors in the other subway cars or on the track. All in all, a very sweet guy who made sure you felt safe and supported the entire journey through the tunnel, eventually handing you off to the paramedics with minimal stress or jostling.

When you’re in your treatment room at Chicago Med you spot Matt talking to some of the nurses and doctors in the ED. You smile to yourself, your nerves somewhat ebbing away at the sight of him, he made you feel calm and protected without even trying.

As if he could sense your eyes on him, he happens to look up and right at you sitting on the bed with your arm now patched up. You were waiting for the results of your CT scan to come back. Dr Halstead had assured you it was probably nothing to worry about but he needed to be sure.

Before you know it Casey had made his way across the ED and was now standing in your treatment room, again checking you over with eyes full of worry.

“You okay?” He asks, stepping in closer to you, almost on the verge of reaching to hold your hand.

His face is also smudged with smoke, he had stayed another hour after your rescue looking for victims and helping with debris, before being told to take a break and check in at Med.

You nod. Not really sure what to say, your lip wobbles. You were okay by all accounts, your arm had been stitched, and you were getting treatment for your head, but at the same time, it had been a pretty freaky experience.

The next thing you know you’re tucked in the embrace of Matt, your tears soaking into his jacket as your body trembles. The shock of everything escaping in one fell swoop. He’s warm, a steady palm rubbing in soothing circles on your back, soft hushes “You’re okay, it’s alright.” as you sniff.

“I’m…sorry…I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” You half laugh and half cry some more, looking up at him as he remains holding you, feeling silly for crying in front of him.

His face is serious, making sure you understand, “Hey, you don’t need to be sorry, it happens in situations like this, okay? You don’t need to feel embarrassed, Y/N, trust me.” Offering you a reassuring smile as he squeezes your shoulders.

“I do.” You murmur, looking up at him.

“Do?” He asks, confused.

“Trust you.” You state with a weary smile, your heart lurching in your chest, not sure why you just let that out of your mouth. You could at least hopefully put it down to your scrambled brain.

His face breaks into his own smile now, eyes lighting up at the comment, he’s about to say something else to you when a man with a salt and pepper head of hair pops around the curtain, another firefighter. “Case, we gotta head back out, let’s roll.” The head disappears again and Matt turns back to you, apologising with a dismayed expression.

“I’m sorry, I-”

You smile through your still watery eyes, sniffing. “It’s okay, you go, I’ll be totally fine, thank you for everything, Matt. Seriously.” You reassure, giving him a gentle nudge in the direction of the exit.

“Be safe,” You instruct, giving him a stern look. He nods, amusement on his face at your bossy well-wishing as he leans in to give you a small kiss on your cheek.

He utters a soft, “See you around, Y/N.” before leaving you sitting awestruck with goosebumps rushing across your skin.

It’s when you get home in the early hours of the morning that you realise you still don't have Matt’s number.

The Fourth Time

The fourth time you and Matt cross paths is back at the coffee shop, it had been a few weeks since your subway incident. This time he’s in his construction gear, much like the station gear and the turnout gear he looked handsome and ready to help anyone in need.

This time, however, you’re not locked out, nor are you stuck underground. With all of your tasks up to date and a little in the way of custom, you arrive at the conclusion you’re bored out of your mind.

The sight of Matt in his slightly worn jeans, heavy tan boots, and a navy blue plaid shirt is already causing an uptick in your rating of today. His lighter tufts of blonde hair peeking out from his beanie, and the dark brown jacket with the borg collar altogether make him look like the cosiest lumberjack in the middle of Chicago. Something you would neither confirm nor deny finding extremely attractive.

He enters with purpose, already looking around for something or someone, and it’s beyond your control to not feel the butterflies scatter in your stomach when his eyes land on you. Not missing the way he smiles excitedly as he moves in your direction.

He eyes the few customers dotted around the space, noting they were already sipping from their respective mugs and cups. “Hey! You’re here, I was hoping to catch you. How’s the arm and the head?”

You lean forward on the counter, helpless to not return the excited energy. You had been wondering when you’d see him again, if ever. You always expected the next time to maybe be the last time, just a fleeting stranger who made your heart race. You kicked yourself for not getting his number the first time and then again forgetting on the third time, this time was going to be the moment, the universe was clearly trying for you.

“Hey! I am indeed here, and I’m glad you caught me. The head and arm are good, nothing to complain about. How’re you?” Your bruises are fainter now, your head only slightly discoloured from the swelling and bruising, but otherwise okay. Your arm was beginning to scab over.

Something about Matt Casey made you so inherently giddy, and you didn’t mind in the least when he moves in closer to keep the conversation just between you.

“I’m just glad to see you're okay, and I'm good, I’m just doing some work on a house around the corner. Thought I’d visit my favourite person…” Matt realises instantly how it comes out, trying to recover, “My favourite person who makes coffee.” He laughs awkwardly, feeling the squeeze in his chest as he becomes a little self-conscious.

“Oh, just your favourite coffee maker, huh? And here I thought, after what we’ve been through, that we were ready to become good friends.” You know he didn’t mean to let it come out so strangely, but there’s still a slight pang of disappointment when he recovers. Yet, you still choose to tease him, deciding that was a more entertaining option.

“Sorry, Y/N. Sometimes my mouth doesn’t work. Of course, I was happy to see you, and to get coffee from you, two separate positives to my day.” He exhales, eyes rolling at himself in a comical manner. You let out a small snort, giggling.

“Matt, seriously, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself every time we talk. You’re doing better than 90% of the people that interact with me on a daily basis. What can I get you?”

Matt grins, eyes twinkling, “I’ll have a latte please, one pump vanilla if that’s okay… and only 90%?” He quips.

You pretend to think about the question, “Hm… okay, I can be pushed to 93%.” You grin as Matt chuckles, riding the confident wave you were on, slotting the handle beneath the grinder as you talk, “Might even be persuaded to 98% if you finally give me your number.”

Matt’s eyes widen, his smile permanently affixed to his face. Your smile drops, however, realising he may not want to give out that information, so now it’s you who hurriedly corrects yourself, “Only if you want to of course.” You flatten down the grounds with the press, smoothing them off before putting the handle into the coffee machine itself, letting the shot pour into Matt’s cup. You move to steam the milk ready for the coffee.

This prompts Matt to snap out of his excited trance, “No, no! Sorry, Y/N, of course, I want to give you my number, I was just surprised that you’d want it, is all.”

“Why is that so surprising?” You ask, raising an eyebrow inquisitively, adding the vanilla to the coffee before pouring the milk.

“Well…” He hesitates, scratching at his neck subconsciously.

You let out a slight noise of amusement, Matt had never been so shy around you. “You can say whatever it is.” You slide the cup towards him, ignoring his attempt to pay with a push of your hand against his, shaking your head. “Go on, say what you were gonna say.” You encourage, resuming giving him your attention as you lean forward with your arms resting on the counter.

“Well, most people we meet will come to find us if we’ve made an impact on them. Whether we rescued them, a family member or otherwise, they, uh… they usually stop by the Firehouse. So I figured maybe I was picking up the wrong signals, I didn’t want to presume that because I did you a favour that you’d want to see me again. Otherwise, you’d have had my number since the first time we met.”

Your eyebrows go up in surprise. You thought you'd felt something there, but you never realised just how on your level Matt was.

“The first time, huh?” You repeat.

“Yep, the first time.” He answers, sincere with a glint of something mischievous in his eyes.

You’re about to ask the question when the door opens and a group of 6 pile in towards the counter. You struggle to not sigh loudly and exasperatedly.

Really? Now? Come on.

Matt reaches out to press something in your hand, picking up his coffee cup with the other as he begins to depart from your company.

“See you around, Y/N, let me know if you’re free later?” He shifts out of the way to let the group approach you, smiling apologetically as you give him a small wave. You quickly look down at the small business card Matt had pressed into your hand, it had his construction information on it.

More importantly, it had his number on the back.

The Fifth Time

The fifth time you meet Matt is outside his firehouse on an off-duty day, there were various cars and trucks parked along the street with a hubbub of chatter just to the side of the entrance.

Among the small crowd, you could see foam fingers in the shape of blue and orange bear faces, blue and orange balloons and a variety of jerseys and t-shirts sporting the Chicago Bears logo. This was the meeting point before travelling together to Soldier Field.

Matt had invited you to a game with his friends, all of them from first responder backgrounds. There were plans for a pre-game meetup, a barbeque and then the game itself, complete with post-match drinks. A spare ticket had become available and you were his first point of call. Or rather, text.

You had been texting for the last week or so, discussing your days, your interests, things you had both been wanting to try or places you wanted to visit. It was going well, and it made you all the more optimistic when you got the game invite.

As you approach the party on the sidewalk, you hear his voice bright and excited. “Hey, Y/N! You made it.” Matt jogs over to greet you as you wave, wearing an old Bears jersey you’d found at a thrift store, complete with a navy cap and sunglasses on a wonderfully sunny day in the city. He brings you in for a hug and you get a waft of his aftershave and sun-soaked skin, his embrace is secure and comfortable, and you smile into his shoulder as you give him a small squeeze.

You pull back with a grin, “Hey, Matt. It’s good to see you.”

He winks, making your heart skitter, “It’s good to see you too. I’m so glad you’re here. I want you to meet some people.” You’re still reeling at how happy he seems to have you around, putting a gentle hand on your back as he guides you to the small crowd of laughing and joking people.

You rode with Matt in the front of his truck, he had all of the BBQ equipment and some chairs loaded onto the truck bed. Both of you discussed the day ahead, what your game predictions were, what you wanted to do after the game, and what you thought of Matt’s friends.

There were only positive things to say about the group, each of them had been so kind and welcoming already. Stella and Kelly had been especially sweet, but you really liked meeting Matt’s friends from the CPD. Hailey and Kim were practically making moves to adopt you as their companion for the day, instead of allowing Matt to keep your company.

Now you were hanging out with the others, nestled into their part of the parking lot.

You thanked Hailey as she passed you a sweetcorn tamale from Mama Garcia’s van, holding it in your mouth as you caught Jay’s throw of the football, passing the ball to Matt as you take a second to eat the tamale properly, laughing at Kelly’s disgruntlement as he watches everyone suddenly eating before his BBQ was ready.

Just as you receive another throw from Jay you hear a commotion coming from behind Matt, brows furrowed in confusion and worry as you start to hear screaming. Watching as everyone from your group downs tools go to investigate, following their instincts as responders. You can only watch with concern as you keep an eye on everyone’s things, trying to figure out what was happening without getting in the way.

It takes a while for anything else to happen, feeling anxious at the crowd that had followed Matt towards the incident.

You started to hear a few people talk about “some guy” looking dead, and that he looked really sick before he fell to the floor. Watching with a gnawing feeling in your gut that something could be deeply wrong, especially as you started to see police, fire and ambulance services trying to move in on the crowd and disperse the congregation.

Eventually, you see Kevin heading back in your direction, jogging towards you.

“Hey, uh, Y/N. We’re really sorry but we got something serious going on. Casey said to make sure you could get a ride home, and he said he’d call you as soon as he could.”

“What’s happening, Kevin?” You ask, your fear carrying in your voice.

Kevin scrubs a hand at his beard, his eyes filled with an emotion that seemed to be his own trepidation that he was trying to keep under wraps. “We don’t know yet, Y/N, it’s not looking too good but I can’t say much more than that. Are you good to get back home?”

You nod, swallowing, “Yeah, yeah, of course. I can find my way back, it’s not a problem. Just be safe out there, okay?” You reach out, squeezing your new friend’s arm.

He rests a hand on your shoulder, “Stay safe, don’t go near anybody that you think looks sick, just call 911 and let someone come. If there’s anything you need, call Casey or me, alright?”

There was something on Kevin’s face that told you it had become all too real too fast, even for him and the others who were used to it. You could only confirm with an “Okay, Kevin, I will.” before he gets called back to the crowd of responders, disappearing from your view.

Matt is nowhere in sight and your stomach squeezes in anxiousness, you knew he would throw himself into danger if it meant helping others. You were worried for everyone caught up in whatever was going on, but you were particularly fearful for Matt’s safety. You hadn’t realised just how much he already mattered to you until now.

It’s almost a day and a half before you hear from Matt properly again. You had seen on the news about the serious bacteria affecting so many people in the city, about the labs that had suffered damage. You knew Matt, Fifty-One and everyone else would be on the front lines of dealing with whatever was rife in Chicago.

There had been little option other than to hunker down in your apartment and hope for the best. You had received a text from Matt the night before, reassuring you that he was alright. It had gone some way to alleviate your relentless pacing and sighing.

Now your phone buzzes again, and you feel another exhale of relief escape you.

{Matt}: Hey, I think we’re coming out the other side of this thing. The people responsible have been apprehended. I’m sorry our date got ruined, let’s make plans soon if you want? Hope you’re okay, Y/N.

{You}: Hey! Thank you for letting me know you’re alright, I’ve been driving myself crazy. I’m okay, just relieved this might finally be over. I want you to be safe, and I want your friends to be safe too. Of course, I’d love to make plans. Maybe we can call later, to talk about ideas? No rush, whenever’s good for you.

P.S. Didn’t realise the game was a date. But I’m so ready for a new date that has no infections involved, ha!

{Matt}: Well, it was meant to be a pre-date date, ha, didn’t go to plan though. Glad to hear I haven’t totally put you off with the chaos. Would love to call you later. Thank you for being so understanding, my friends all love you. Glad they can see what I see.

{You}: Put me off? After our already hectic start, our underground adventure and now the last few days? I think we’re good, cowboy. I know you’re out there being a brave and generous person, not much to hate about that. I’m so relieved your friends like me, and I really like them. I can see why you all get on so well. Talk to you later, Lieutenant.

You’re not surprised when Matt doesn’t reply to your text, you knew he was still tying up loose ends. You simply potter around your apartment, occasionally re-reading the messages as you start to see the foundations between you and Matt cement themselves. It makes you crave it all the more, so keen to know all of him and keen to share yourself with him in return.

A Date

The sixth time you meet Matt Casey is at a restaurant by the river, it’s an official first date with him.

He’s in a grey button-down and dark jeans, a black jacket and boots, ones that aren’t steel-toed or covered in paint. His hair is neatly styled as always, and there’s a glint in his eyes to match the warm, bright, smile he sends your way as you approach him outside the restaurant.

This time you move confidently in for the hug, squeezing him tight as you relish his warmth and presence, thankful he seemed to be healthy and in good spirits. As you stay in the embrace you feel yourself melt a little, almost happy to stay in it for the rest of the night.

“Hi.” Matt greets, chuckling softly when you reach to kiss his cheek, finding himself reciprocating almost instantly.

“Hi.” You breathe, your own amusement clear on your face. The giddiness was palpable.

“Let’s try this again shall we?” Matt inquires, offering his arm to link with yours.

“Let’s.” You nod, tucking yourself against Matt as you walk the steps to the front door of the restaurant.

Matt drinks beer, and you choose from an array of cocktails. Both of you find a merry buzz as you catch up on each other’s lives from the past few days.

You shared your love of baking with him, regaling him of how you’d started stress-making brownies, cookies and cupcakes when you’d seen the news, now having entirely too much cake for one person. It led to a promise to bring some of your goods to the firehouse for the others.

Matt shares his interest in cooking, you can tell from the way he talks that food had become a way of inspiring camaraderie at the firehouse and at home. His enthusiasm told you of the love language that it was for him, something you made a mental note of.

You also get to hear about his adventures fishing with his Chief and Kelly, making you laugh at the times they’d either caught something totally bizarre or tipped one another overboard.

He tells you of his upcoming construction projects, one of them being a community project that he had started up to help a victim that they’d rescued on a call last month. You wasted no time in offering your services to help, whether that was going on coffee runs, fetching, carrying or painting, you were happy to be there.

The night flies by in a blur of free-flowing conversation, sincerity and intimacy, finding yourselves to be one of the last pairs in the restaurant before closing time.

As you walk hand in hand along the river, you’re drawn to sidle close to your date, enjoying how he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you in. Bringing you to sit on a bench facing the river that reflects the twinkling lights of the city.

“It goes without saying that I really enjoyed tonight, Y/N. Thank you for being here.”

You wrap yourself around Matt’s waist, it felt natural to be in his personal space and have him in yours. Resting your head on his shoulder, “You don’t need to thank me, Matt, this was the loveliest first date I’ve ever been on.”

Matt glances at you, a smug smile on his face. “Oh yeah?”

You shrug, already half laughing as you speak, “Absolutely. Would recommend totally recommend on TripAdvisor.”

It gets Matt chuckling, “I’m not sure my date services are for the public.”

You lift your head, looking at him with something akin to being smitten, “Well, that’s their loss, my gain.”

Matt nods, confirming, “Oh, it’s all yours, Y/N. If you want it to be, you’ve got exclusive access.”

“I think I’ll take it.” You sigh happily, putting your head back on his shoulder.

Your stomach flutters when you feel his lips press to the top of your head, “Sold.”

Between the back and forth of playful talk, there’s that telltale moment for anyone about to kiss. The cold of the air shows the warmth of your breaths, both of you inching together on the bench as your thighs press to each other.

Matt glances at your mouth, and you at his. Dipping your heads to meet each other’s lips in a slow, wanting, kiss. Finally allowing this time to be your time together, with no interruptions, no dramas, and no chaos.

As you break away, cupping Matt’s cold cheek with your warm hand, you think about your work key and the first time you’d met the man in front of you. Thanking the loose clasp on your keychain in the past, you move in for another kiss in the present, relishing the times you’d got to meet Matt Casey and hopeful of all the other times ahead.

Fin.

tags: @resanoona @dumb-fawkin-bitch @elius-learns-to-write

#resa.3kfiestabingo #matt casey #one chicago #chicago fire #matt casey x reader #user.resa

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sheetsonfire · 2 years

Text

I Only Want To Be With You

Fandom: Chicago PD

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Genre: Romance, mild angst, fluff

Word Count: 2944

Summary: The reader is turning 30, and nobody seems to have remembered.

A/N: A very belated birthday fic for @resanoona; happy birthday again, bb! Also, part of @resanoona's #resa.3kfiestabingo! I'm using this fic to fill the "Free" square. The classic (Not) Forgotten Birthday trope!

You were not the type of person to neither want nor expect a big fuss on your birthday. Years of your childhood and adulthood had been spent with your special day either being lacklustre or altogether forgotten. You had come to peace with the idea that it was a day just like any other for you.

So you surprise yourself with your own hurt when Jay, your boyfriend, doesn’t say anything to you the day you hit the big Three-Zero.

You’re in the kitchen putting coffee in the pot when his arms wrap around you from behind, soft lips pressing a lingering kiss to your neck as they often did every morning.

“Good morning, beautiful” Jay greets, waiting for you to stop pouring and set the hot liquid down before pulling you a little closer to his chest.

“Hey, baby.” You answer with a smile, turning around to meet his face. Letting your hands slide over his arms until you wrap yourself around him, relishing the warmth of his hands on your waist.

Those kind green eyes are full of appreciation for you, yet you’re still hit with the pang of hurt that ever so swiftly settles in your gut. Words you had been hoping to hear don't pass his lips. Those same kind eyes seem to show no recognition or remembrance of what today was for you.

You eat breakfast in concealed distress, wrestling with your emotions as Jay talks about his plans for the day, granted they include you but none of them seem to hint at your birthday.

In fact, as the morning goes on, you start to doubt whether you’d ever told Jay when exactly your birthday was. However, deep down you knew that was a reach, you and Jay had been dating for almost a year, meeting for your first date not long after your last birthday, it had been a big point of conversation at the time.

Jay had even insisted on taking you to a fancy Italian cake shop down the street from the coffee shop you’d met at, letting you choose whichever decadent cake or pastry your heart desired.

You had shared a giant slice of cake with him inside one of the cosy booths the shop had; the booth was surrounded by flowers and the warm glow of lighting that emulated sunshine. That afternoon had been one of the most special belated birthdays you’d ever had.

So here you were, without a single well wish from your boyfriend, and to add to your bleak mood you seemingly didn't have any texts from friends either. The whole world felt like it was on mute, with not even a hint of jubilation for you as your existence ticked into its 30th year.

Jay, as intended, makes a move to go on his errands, offering lunch to entice you. You had said yes, of course. After all, you still wanted Jay’s company.

As you sit in Jay’s truck, he scrolls on his phone for a short while, seemingly looking for a playlist in particular. You’re leaning your head against the window, trying to keep the frustrated tears at bay, feeling silly for getting so upset about your birthday.

It wasn’t Jay’s fault, you knew better than that, this was a culmination of years of people forgetting or not bothering when all you did for others was try.

In your reverie, you feel a warm hand on your knee, turning your head you meet Jay’s worried gaze. “You okay, sweetheart?” You nod instinctively, pressing your hand over his, holding for a moment. You try and lift your expression, brushing your thumb over his hand, “Yeah, just not quite awake yet.”

He’s not convinced, you can tell, but he doesn’t push. Slowly he lets go, leaning across the centre console to kiss your cheek, “It won’t take long, then we can just chill for the rest of the day.”

“Sounds good.” You smile a little then, still looking forward to that at least.

Jay hits play on his phone, slotting it into the holder on the dash.

The song intro that fills the truck makes your head snap up to Jay who was now pulling out of the parking space with a small smile on his face once he realises you’re looking at him.

Playing is the song that you first heard on your first date with Jay, you remember how both of you ended up laughing because the music was particularly loud next to your table, and it was hard to ignore listening to the lyrics.

It was “Baby I’m Yours” by Arctic Monkeys, a modern cover of a 60s track. You feel your heart pick up its pace.

You still weren’t sure whether Jay’s music choice was related to your birthday or not, but it was still incredibly sweet and the lyrics carried that sentiment through. You reach out a hand to stroke at the nape of Jay’s neck, showing your appreciation as best as you knew how without your voice betraying your emotions.

Baby, I'm yours (baby, I'm yours)

And I'll be yours (yours) until the stars fall from the sky

Yours (yours) until the rivers all run dry

In other words, until I die

Baby, I'm yours (baby, I'm yours)

And I'll be yours (yours) until the sun no longer shines

Yours (yours) until the poets run out of rhyme

In other words, until the end of time

Jay only kept driving, waiting for the next track as he continued the route to a specific location that you were yet to know about. In your distraction by the music, you didn't think to ask.

Your mood continues to lift significantly when you hear the opening notes of Birdy’s “I Only Want To Be With You”, another cover. This time a cover of the classic track by Dusty Springfield.

You shake your head beside Jay, letting out a small laugh as you realise how ludicrously sweet he’s being. It’s at that moment that you realise you might not care if Jay did remember or not; because with or without your birthday he always tries to make you feel special.

“You are something else, Jay” You murmur, feeling the warmth bloom in your stomach, noting that the weather seemed to be in cahoots with your boyfriend now, watching as the sun fights to peek through the blanket of grey clouds. It thaws the cold in your bones as it casts a warm glow through the passenger window.

Jay still doesn’t say anything, for now, he simply squeezes your shoulder with a reassuring rub of his thumb, letting you enjoy the song in the comfortable silence between you.

You relish the selection Jay has put together, songs that you both enjoy, songs that you’ve shared moments with, songs that he knew you loved.

The journey doesn’t last too much longer and, with a few more turns down certain streets, you realise where you’re going. You knew West Fulton Boulevard for one reason alone, it would take you to the Garfield Park Conservatory. The botanical haven was full of nature’s wonders, it was one of your favourite places to find peace of mind.

You turn to look at your boyfriend who’s now definitely grinning to himself, he can already tell that this was a good decision.

“You. You’re a sneak.” You state teasingly, already itching to get out of the truck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jay teases back, finding a parking spot near the adjoining path to the conservatory.

As he kills the engine he turns to look at you, seeing the tearful reflection in your eyes. “Y/N? Are you okay?” He asks, brow furrowing.

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak without bursting into tears.

“Are these happy tears?” Jay asks.

It’s still uncertain as to whether this was Jay acknowledging your birthday or not, but you felt too awkward to ask now. Yet, you were still unbelievably happy to be where you were, and you nod again.

“Okay.” Jay breathes, smiling as he leans to kiss your forehead. “I just thought we could have a nice day together, maybe watch a movie or something later?” He queries, rubbing an affectionate hand up and down your arm.

Your voice is a sort of squeak, but you speak this time. “Sounds great, Jay, really. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. You deserve it all. Come on, let’s go in.” Jay moves to open his door, but you catch his hand and pull him back for a moment, pressing a slow and sweet kiss to his lips. Watching with delight as his eyes flutter, mesmerised by your presence, he was entirely too wonderful for his own good.

“Okay, now we can go.” You murmur, hopping out of your passenger side and closing the door firmly shut.

Jay approaches the front desk with you not far behind, he talks to the guide behind the counter and they exchange words that you can’t hear. Then, the guide gestures to a different doorway than you’re used to, feeling confused as they lead you and Jay down what appears to be a staff corridor, whilst another colleague replaces them at the front desk.

You figured maybe procedures had changed since COVID hit, you already knew that bookings were essential at least.

Jay’s hand clasping with yours brings you back to the present, and you let the small change in the routine fall out of your mind as you focus on the warmth of Jay’s hand clasped with yours. Feeling the excitement grow at being amongst beautiful plant life from around the world with someone you loved more than most.

Eventually, the path takes you to somewhere familiar, still wrestling with your mind on whether you should ask why you weren’t seeing the grounds in the same order as previous visits. It was a mix of confusion and giddiness as you still remain following your guide through the Artist’s Garden, towards rustic white doors that led to the Horticulture Hall.

It’s then that you come to a stop in front of a rope barrier with a sign attached that reads, “Do not enter. Reserved for private hire.”

Jay looks at you and you look back, thoroughly confused and worried that for some reason this guide was about to intrude on someone’s private event. You almost tug on Jay’s hand to halt all movement and call to your guide, but then the guide speaks.

“Here we are, Mr Halstead. If you need anything at all here’s my card, and I’ll make sure someone checks in on you in a little while.”

Jay thanks the guide, and you quickly hurry to do the same. With that, they smile at both of you and start to walk back the way you’d just come. Leaving you and Jay standing in front of the rope.

You can feel the goosebumps rushing across your skin, it was pretty clear what was happening now, but you ask anyway. “Jay, what’s happening?”

Jay chuckles, shaking his head, “I can’t believe I lasted this long to be honest, Y/N.” He unlatches the rope from one of its posts, letting you step in front of him before re-latches it, then he moves forward to push down on the golden handle attached to the white door, opening out onto the vast conservatory hall filled with an array of colourful plants, vines, and trees.

There’s now the clear sound of soft, relaxing, music playing through the sound system. The gentle sound of running water through different sculptures can be heard.

In the centre of the space is a table for two, covered with a pristine white tablecloth, cutlery, plates and glasses, there's a centrepiece of a wreath with various flowers and leaves woven in. Beside it stood a cart that seemed to be filled with a small buffet of food, surrounding a cake that sat in the centre.

Balloons that read “Happy Birthday!” were scattered around the space, they bobbed and swayed in the air, shimmering in light from above.

You're frozen to the spot, in awe of what's in front of you. The tears gather quickly again in your eyes, your bottom lip wobbling as you turn to Jay who already moves to pull you into an embrace.

Tucking your head into his shoulder, you let your tears flow, squeezing him tightly as he gently sways with you, a loving hand on your head with soft fingers stroking your hair.

He whispers softly to you, "Happy birthday, sweetheart. I could never forget, I will never forget."

The words only make your breath hitch, crying a little more as it only becomes more unquestionable that Jay adores you, relief that he hadn't forgotten floods your chest.

Jay gives you as much time as you need, and eventually, you do pull away to meet his gentle gaze. He smiles at you, thumbing away the dampness on your cheeks, and you smile back. Your heart is still racing.

"I feel kinda bad for dragging this out now." He remarks, brushing a gentle knuckle across your jaw as he studies your face.

You shake your head, letting out a tearful laugh. "No, no, I understand wanting to make this a surprise, and it really was, Jay. I thought I was going crazy and convinced myself that you didn't know it was my birthday. but we-"

"We celebrated it last year, after our first date." He states, finishing your line.

"Exactly. I just...I didn't want to make a big deal, I'm used to it being forgotten, but it still stung. I'm sorry, I'm such a crying mess." You sniff, blinking away the teardrops as you still find yourself giggling in shock.

Jay kisses your forehead, tugging you a little closer once more. "You never have to be sorry, baby. I want you to know that you can always tell me how you're feeling, and I am so glad I could finally share the secret with you, it's been killing me keeping it to myself."

You nod, exhaling. Feeling so much lighter, excitement humming through you as you take a look around at the set-up.

Jay takes your hand, encouraging you to follow. "Come on, I want to show you everything."

Once you're closer to the neatly set table, you recognise the logo on the cart. Practically gasping as you see that Jay had managed to get a spread of food from the same restaurant and bakery that had really started it all.

The birthday cake in the centre was beautifully piped with luxurious creme and writing that read "Happy Birthday, Y/N", topped with fresh fruit that popped with colour.

You were now clinking your glass with Jay's as he toasted you into your new year of life, sipping the fizzing drink as you let yourself take pause to admire the man in front of you.

"If I can ask... How the hell did you hire this place? The waiting list is lifetimes long." You ask in disbelief despite the tranquil privacy you were currently sitting in being proof. And yes, you had looked into hiring it privately yourself, a distant dream for a special occasion, like a wedding perhaps.

Jay takes another sip of his drink, a smug smile on his lips.

"I happened to save the life of the Special Events Manager here. She said that if I ever needed a favour, I should call her. I told her that we weren't allowed to accept gifts or things of monetary value. She told me that it would be rude to not let a new friend do me a favour, so I took her card out of politeness... But then I met you, and I knew how much you loved places like this, especially here. So, when your birthday was coming up, I was sure that I wanted to let that favour come into play. Joan was more than happy to oblige, so here we are." Your boyfriend shrugs, happily popping a miniature bread roll into his mouth.

You already cherished Jay's selflessness and bravery, and though you could happily go through life without him putting himself in danger, it meant the world to you now that that act had somehow contributed to today.

Taking his hand from across the table, you lift it to kiss his palm."I truly cannot tell you enough how amazing this all is, Jay. Thank you, sincerely, for thinking of me and for getting everything together. I'm going to have to pull some serious strings for your birthday, put it that way. I love you."

Jay waves you off, shaking his head. "I just need my girl, that's it. This isn't a debt you owe or a favour to be repaid, this is you being loved how you should be loved."

You prop your chin in your hand, just dopily looking at Jay with a smile as you pop a strawberry in your mouth. Watching with glee as he takes a lighter from his pocket and reaches for the cake, setting it down between you as he flicks the lighter and puts the flame to the wick of the candle.

As the sun bathes you both in light through the conservatory roof, you feel goosebumps rush across your skin. Eyes twinkling as Jay offers you the cake, "Happy birthday, Y/N. Make a wish."

You don't say it out loud, as is the custom for making a wish. But to yourself, you hope that you spend the rest of your birthdays beside the man in front of you, you could think of no better gift.

Fin.

#user.resa #resa.3kfiestabingo #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #one chicago #chicago pd

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