#what if i can become a paramedic after all?

[bulldagger-bait]

LONG ramble ahead. Feel free to skip. (Also this stuff is probably a bit too personal but i dont really care tumblr is my diary and i just have to get these thoughts out)

I had my first almost completely pain free day today and... It was fucking magical. Like, I still had pain in all of the niggling areas i always do: muscle tension, joint pain.

But my nerve pain. My nerve pain! For a good while it just wasnt there. And because the pain wasnt there, the FND couldnt kick up a fuss. I felt strong. I could stand. I wasnt hurting.

When i woke up after my surgery nearly a decade ago, i was in the worst pain of my life. I was writhing and screaming and begging to die. 10 out of 10 out of 10. And over the course of my hospital stay it diminished. Went from 10 to 9 to 8. And then 8 is where it stayed. It became my new normal.

I forced my way through the first year of recovery waiting for it to get better... But it never did.

I tried to push through and not let anything hold me back. I dont know how many times i sobbed to myself quietly about how unbearable it was. I tried to take my life twice, and the pain was a significant reason why.

Eventually i got on meds that knocked it down to a 7, and a 7 is where ive been for the last 5 years. Every day.

Eventually i just kinda resigned myself to it. I couldnt think about the future because whenever i did, all i could feel was: "every moment of the rest of my life is going to feel like this". I accepted it, and i tried to move on. I found someone that i loved enough to stick around for. Someone who made living with the pain worth it.

And now, with this new cocktail of drugs... That burning pain is gone. Or at least, its no longer an electric, burning, blistering, grinding pain. Its tempered to what feels like a candle flame. And for a few rare moments here or there it goes away.

I dont know what to do with that. All of my other pain pales in comparison. They're their own little burning pains, but it doesn't feel like it matters. i can live with them.

And im finally hopeful about my future. Because for a few minutes last week i felt nothing. Blissful nothing. I was so shocked i couldnt even believe it.

When the pain came back i didnt even care or feel cheated, because all ive wanted for so long was just a few seconds pain free, and i got it. I didnt have to be drugged out of my mind (well ... Excluding the cocktail of drugs i was on). I just was. And when it was gone i wasnt upset because i knew if it could happen once, it could happen again. and i had a reason to be excited for my future; my long term future.

Im not just sticking around for other people anymore. Im sticking around for myself too. Because i deserve another five minutes without pain.

(sidenote: do i feel insanely guilty about having a break from my pain; and that its not fair; and that other people deserve it more than me; and that i shouldnt talk about it because its just rubbing it in everyones faces; and that i must have just been exaggerating the pain; and i dont deserve to even call myself disabled anymore; and that im scum; and that i should instead continue to suffer in pain because its all i know, and i dont know how to be myself without pain because its become such an integral part of who i am; and because its who ive been for near as makes no difference a decade; and that im just waiting for the other shoe to drop and somehow prove that im a fraud; and that the pain i had was never real, nor is the pain i have that the meds havent affected; and that im lying about everything; and that I dont deserve help; and that everyone in my life who has pain and hears me talk about this hates me, resents me; and that im terrified of losing the pain because it knows me intimately, and i know it, and that this severing is making me question who i am; and that the answer im getting in my head is: no one; you are no one without this.... Yeah, maybe. Maybe i am thinking that)

[miley1442111]

safe- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (1.4k + words)

summary: you become an unsubs target

pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader

warnings: general cm minds topics, knives, stitches, head wounds, trauma talk of harm coming to the team, the reader is harmed, etc.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There you stood, your own blood as well as another's blood all over your body. 

What happened? 

You were just leaving work, you were going to pick up Jack and Ellie on your way home. It was taco night, you three would cook together tonight, though since Aaron was on a case a few states over, you would be the only ones doing it. So, how did that exact same unsub get to you?

You sat in the ambulance, stitches going into your skin, but you weren’t even flinching, you didn’t even feel it. You knew Jack and Ellie were expecting you, so was Jessica. 

“Can I make a phone call?” You whispered to the paramedic. She nodded her head, sympathy on her face. “Thank you.”

You pulled out your phone as she finished the stitches in your head, moving onto the ones in your arms. 

“Hey Jess,” You sighed into the phone. 

“Hey, is everything alright?” she asked. “Do you want me to take Jack and Ellie for the night?” 

You could honestly cry at her generosity. “Yes please, thank you so much Jess.”

“No problem,” she smiled, worried from the other line. “Are you hurt?” she whispered. 

“I’ll be ok, someone just… yeah,’ you sighed. “Tell Jack and Ellie I love them, yeah?”

“Always.”

You hung up. The paramedic finished up and the officer who had been sitting with you for the past few minutes escorted you to a squad car and brought you to the station, informing you that the FBI were on their way. The FBI, really? Surely it wasn’t Aaron, right?

God, you missed Aaron. You’d never wanted to see him more in your life. Just to know he was ok, that he was there. 

Such luxuries could not be afforded at that current moment. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron sat beside David on the plane, exhaustion pulling at his eyes as Spencer read out the latest attack. 

“Oh, apparently there was one survivor,” Spencer said. “That might be his next target.”

“We should look into them, what’s the name?” David asked as Aaron yawned. 

“Y/n Y/l/n, she has a son, daughter, and husband,” Spencer said, and Aaron was wide-awake again. 

“Pardon?” He asked, hoping he’d heard wrong. 

“Y/n Y/l/n. She was beaten pretty badly and had a head wound and a stab to the arm, she’s at the station now. SHe agreed to a cognitive interview. She’s a professor of nuclear physics at a university nearby-” Spencer reads off. 

“She has more pHds than boy genius, 5 and counting,” Penelope interrupts him from the screen. 

“Well, she is older than me,” he stressed, attempting to keep some of his pride. 

“By what, 4 years?” Emily snorted, the rest of the team laughed, but Aaron was frozen. 

A head wound? You got stabbed? He felt faint. Immediately, he reached into his pocket to grab his phone, trying to call you. 

You didn’t pick up.

He tried again as the team stared at him in bewilderment. What was he doing?

No answer again.

“Sir-”

“I want a profile before we leave this plane,” he ordered and the team all stared at him. “Is that too much for you?” He asked snarkily. They all shook their heads and began breaking off into groups to work. Aaron stayed seated, a million thoughts running through his head at once. Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? How much blood did you lose? Was the unsub already on his way to you again? Were you a target because of him?

“Hotch I think we have something,” Morgan stated after 30 minutes. “The unsub is targeting women with the same description as the survivor. I'd say he’s a college student who is jealous of her husband. He’s formed a parasocial relationship and obsession with her and his delusions have led him to hurt those closest to her. It makes sense she’s beautiful, described as being extremely kind and caring about her students, she’s ridiculously intelligent, and apparently she and her husband are madly in love with each other. What’s her husband’s name Pen?” Derek asked, looking at the computer. 

“Aaron Hotchner,” she said, a gasp following her words. Aaron looked up, meeting the eyes of the team as they stared back, shocked. 

He could deal with them later. 

“Send police to Jessica's house,” he ordered before he got up to go to the back of the plane for a moment of peace. He took out his phone, dialling Jessica’s number.

“Hey, is Y/n ok?” She asked. “I have Jack and Ellie right now, are you with her?”

“Not yet, I’ve sent police to your house, just as extra protection, ok?”

“Alright Aaron. Take care of her when you see her, she seemed pretty shaken.”

“Course,” he gritted out and hung up. This was going to be difficult. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in an office, a cop’s jacket strung over your shaking shoulders. You were still covered in blood, you still saw the horrible image of one of your students being killed in front of you.

Where was Aaron? 

 “Can I go and clean up?” You sniffled, asking the sheriff who was sitting at his desk beside you. 

“Course sweetheart,” she smiled softly. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, if you want a shower there’s one in the training centre.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling smaller than you ever had. You were told to be careful with your stitches and that you’d be brought into the hospital in the morning once all of the stuff with the station was over. You walked down the hall to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, staring at your bloodstained face and clothes. The tears started falling, going down the drain with a red-tinge. 

You grabbed some tissue, wet it, and started scrubbing your face. The ache of your body was nothing to the turmoil in your head. Was it your fault one of your students was killed? Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? Was Aaron ok? 

You didn’t even notice him coming behind you until he took the tissue out of your hand. He discarded it, damped the towel from his go-bag in his hand, lightly washing your face. Tears fell freely as he did so, but he wiped them away, a comforting hand on your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clean cheek. He continued his gentle cleaning, bringing it down to your neck.

“I’m sorry too.” 

He smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologise for anything.”

“Neither do you, but we do it anyway.”

His emotions became too much all of a sudden, the feeling of nearly losing you becoming unthinkable. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered.  

“I love you too.”

After Aaron sufficiently cleaned as much of the blood off of you as he could, he took your blood-stained shirt off and replaced it with one of his extra dress shirts. Walking outside the bathroom, you felt eyes on the both of you. You recognised some of the team from stories and photos Aaron had shown you. They stared as Aaron wrapped you into his side and walked you back into the sheriff’s office. 

“I want the kids,” you admitted. “I know we shouldn’t but I’m so worried that they're not ok,” you cried into his bicep as he sat beside you. 

“I’ll send one of the team to grab them and Jess,” he nodded.

“Please don’t leave,” you whimpered, holding onto him for dear life. You needed him. 

“Of course not, honey,” he soothed. He signalled for Derek to come in. He walked in, careful of your feelings. “Will you go to Jessica’s house and pick up Jessica, Jack, and Ellie?”

“Of course sir, but… who’s Ellie?” he whispered the last part. 

“My daughter,” Aaron said and Derek went wide-eyed.

“I’ll be right back with them,” he promised. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Darling, do you feel up to telling me about it? Or even just something?" he whispered against your skin.

"I know who did it," you whispered back. You felt such guilt. You knew the unsub, he was one of your students Andrew. Andrew was obsessed with you, with your life, but you just took it as a student being interested in your life to get out of work. You didn't pay enough care to the way his interest dampened when you spoke about Aaron and when you talked about your anniversaries or dates.

"Honey-"

"His name's Andrew. He's in my chemical sciences class."

Aaron was silent for a moment. "Alright. I'll send officers his way."

"I'm so stupid, I didn't even realise-" you started but Aaron shushed you with a gentle kiss.

"Don't talk about my wife like that," he joked. You chuckled softly and he felt a sense of great accomplishment.

"I'm so glad you're here," you sighed into his neck.

"I'm so glad I'm here too."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're married?" Derek asked.

"Yes," Aaron admitted as he ran a hand through your hair as you lay on his lap asleep, Ellie and Jack playing by the sheriff's desk.

`'And you have another child," Penelope said, shock apparent in her voice and facial expression.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Spencer asked.

"I wanted to keep her safe," Aaron smiled. "I also just assumed you'd figure it out. Clearly you're not all as good as you think you are," he chuckled.

The team collectively rolled their eyes, but still smiled. Aaron was happy, you were safe, another unsub was awaiting jail, and they could almost feel the love radiating off of Aaron.

All was well.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :)

[notsopersonalcharlie]

Work Divorce

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!reader angst/fluff

Summary: Aaron and you come to a realization when you get into a fight about a case.

Warnings: Cannon typical descriptions of violence, alcohol, mentions of divorce, aaron being cuddly, no use of Y/N

Notes: I thought of this (and wrote it) at the airport so sorry for mistakes! Read more of my hotch stuff here and the angsty interlude to this here Gif isn't mine

“Absolutely not. You are not going out there.” Hotch’s mouth was a straight line, and his features read anger to anyone but you. It was his eyes that gave him away. Pure panic and fear.

“Hotch, I built a rapport with him over the phone. I can-“ You tried.

“That’s final.” The whole room was tense, the police officers who didn’t understand the implications and your team, who felt like they were watching their parents get into an argument.

“You have to let me do my job.” It hung in the air, and Hotch didn’t respond.

The tension followed the team onto the plane. The case had ended badly. Yes, the team had managed to rescue four of the five hostages, but not all of them and the unsub was dead. And it had become abundantly clear that Hotch had made the wrong choice. You could have saved them all.

You were kneeling on the dirt floor of the cave the unsub had dug, holding cloth to a bleeding hostage. The other four had been able to walk out on their own and you were waiting with her for the paramedics who had to make their way through the forest. She was crying, tears leaking down the sides of face and dragging clean lines in the dirt and blood that had been caked there.

“He wanted to talk to you. I could hear your voice. I cou-“ she hiccuped, “Why didn’t you come?”

Your lip trembled and you swallowed trying not to think of the memory as you curled yourself into a seat beside Derek, using him as a barrier against Aaron. He had sat down in his usual seat, the one beside it occupied by JJ who usually sat where you were now.

“You did what you could, kid,” Dave said, patting your shoulder on his way past you.

You tried to sleep on the flight, closing your eyes and staring at the back of your eyelids. You had no idea how much time had passed since the plane took off, but you heard an exchange beside you and Derek moved, replaced with the familiar warmth you knew as your husband.

“I-“

“I don’t want to talk right now,” you responded, eyes still closed. The scene of her body being carried out of the hole, limp hand sliding out of yours, was replaying on a loop. Aaron’s hand rested lightly on your calf where you’d pulled it up to make yourself smaller. It was his form of an ‘I’m sorry’.

-/-/-/-/-

Derek and Emily were whispering over the dividers between their desks when Spencer got in. He tossed his satchel in its usual spot and leaned over.

“What’s going on?”

“Their stuff is gone from their desk. Hotch got here alone,” Emily hissed, nodding to where you usually sat. All of your trinkets, colorful pens, and most importantly your wedding photo were gone. It had been a week since the last case, and the last time the team had seen the two of you together was the day after you got off the jet. You had gone into Hotch’s office, door closed, and from the expressions visible through the noise proof window, it looked like you were yelling at him.

You had left, stormed off was more like it, and not been back over the week. And now this on a monday morning. Hotch was visible through the window, frown prominent as he read over a case file. All three younger agents averted their eyes when he looked out, but Spencer managed to scan over the expression when Hotch looked at your empty desk. Melancholy was the best way he could name it.

-/-/-/-/-

Another week and another case passed without a single mention of you. Hotch had never been one to wear a wedding ring, not after his first divorce, so there was no indication there. Still Hotch’s expression flickered to sad when he looked anywhere you usually were, beside him on the jet, in the bullpen, at the round table, and even in moments when the team was used to your quips against him.

“Whatcha got, babygirl?”

“Is everyone there?” Garcia asked, uncharacteristic of her. All ears turned in that direction.

“Everyone but Hotch and Rossi.”

“Good. They are still married! Legally at least. Hotch put in the transfer papers two days after the fight for them to move to the counterterrorism team.”

“Three whole floors?” JJ joked.

“This isn’t a laughing matter, Jennifer!” Penelope’s voice shrilled, “This could be serious! The fight was real!”

“Baby girl, let’s not get all sorts of spin up.”

“They drive to work separately!” Reid cut in. All eyes turned to him.

“What?”

“Wednesday and Thursday I saw both their cars in the garage on my way in.”

“And you kept it to yourself?” Emily complained. The door to the conference room, turned BAU office opened admitting the other two members of the team.

“Thanks for the heads up, baby girl. We gotta go.” Morgan ended the call before she could give them away.

“What was that about?” Rossi asked, taking one of the seats.

“Just warning us about weather patterns,” Emily said at the same time as Morgan said, “She was telling us about another case to keep an eye on.” The two agents glared at one another.

“Smooth,” Rossi joked, “Can we get back to work now?“

-/-/-/-/-

The case didn’t end up being too horrible or difficult. They made it out without another killing and the unsub was caught without a firefight.

Emily picked up her phone, the ringtone distinctly Garcia.

“Hey, we’re almost-“

“Stall! I don’t want to see them fight!” Emily’s eyebrows knit and she frowned. JJ gave her a questioning look.

“Who?”

“The Hotchners! Just stall!” The call ended. Emily looked at the team, who were slowly getting out of the SUV, a few protesting groans since they all had to run through the streets of Cincinnati a little bit longer than they would have preferred. She huffed to herself and quickly unclipped an earring, dropping it between the seats.

“Shit!” The whole team turned to look.

“I dropped my earring.” Hotch looked exasperated, but he turned the car back on so they could turn the lights on and climbed in the back with Emily to hunt it down.

Upstairs the other SUV of the team was standing in the hallway talking to you.

"How was the case?" You were carrying a few things from Hotch's office, the blanket from the back of the couch and one of the photos of you and Jack that sat on his desk. Spencer was documenting the items in your hands and cataloguing them, JJ could tell based on how is eyes scanned over the items twice.

"Not bad. We were just talking about celebrating." You gave a tight smile and your eyes flickered to the elevator coming up from the garage.

"I'll talk to Hotch. I gotta go." You rushed for the stairs, the door closing just before the elevator doors opened to reveal the rest of the team.

"They seem like sturdy earrings," Morgan sighed, "but whatever." JJ and Spencer were staring at Hotch openly before Emily coughed.

"What?" Hotch asked, looking down at his suit.

"Nothing. We were just talking about celebrating today. We haven't all hung out for a while. Rossi, can you host?" The older agent rolled his eyes.

"You know you could at least ask me before asking in front of the whole team," he griped, "But yes. I can host. Make yourselves scarce. Drink some water. See you at seven." The agents scattered to their desks, but once Hotch and Rossi were in their offices, they stood with their heads together, occasionally glancing up at Hotch's office to see if he noticed the missing items.

Aaron walked into his office and immediately noticed the lack of blanket on the couch. Additionally a spot in the dust on his shelf and an absent little plastic dinosaur that sat next to the Captain America figurine on his desk gave away your recent presence. He narrowed his eyes, scanning the rest of the room before deciding everything else was in place. With a sigh, Aaron tossed his go bag by the door and removed some files from his briefcase before picking both bags up and heading for the door.

The agents in the bullpen were whispering and Aaron rolled his eyes at them. They were terrible profilers sometimes.

"See you soon," he called, hiding his smile when they all jumped apart.

"It must have been so bad! For them to be avoiding each other! And stealing stuff out of Hotch's office? That's crazy!" Emily hissed.

"We'll find out tonight." They knew you would never miss an evening at Rossi's. You two were always there first and left later than everyone else.

The younger agents nodded in agreement and dispersed, a continuous drone of concerned texts in their chat as they got dressed for the evening and stopped for snacks, wine, and beer.

Spencer, who was chronically punctual arrived first, the driveway conspicuously empty. He jabbed a message into the chat 'no one's here yet'. The responses of shock were followed by 'go inside and ask dave about it!' from Emily.

The front door was always unlocked when he knew they were over, given Dave's chronic laziness and the access to a firearm in basically every room in his massive house.

"Rossi! It's Spencer, don't kill me."

"We're in the kitchen," came Hotch's voice. Spencer peaked in and failed to hide his shock. You were sitting across Aaron's lap, red in the cheeks from alcohol. Your arms were wrapped around his neck and you were in a full body laugh. Aaron was laughing too, his headshaking, eyerolling one when you said something particularly silly. Dave was leaning on the other side of the counter, the grin on his face prominent.

"I can't believe you would betray me like that," Aaron chuckled, "It's my stuff."

"Nuh uh! We're married! It's my stuff too." Aaron's arms squeezed tighter around your middle, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You could feel his smile when he kissed you again and you felt like a teenager blushing. Dave pointed past you to the doorway.

"Don't you dare start texting, boy genius. Let the kids find out on their own." You and Aaron both turned to see Spencer put his hands up, phone slipped back into his sweater pocket.

"Take a seat, Doctor Reid. Have a drink," you joked. Dave poured him a glass of wine.

"So you just switched teams?" You looked at Aaron, who shrugged a little bit. No use lying.

"Kind of. We both realized there was no world in which Aaron could be impartial, no matter how hard either of us tried. And I got promoted." Watching Spencer's gears turn was always fun. You could almost see the puzzle pieces fall into place as they did in a split second.

"You're the new supervisor in the CT unit! That's why you stole your stuff from his office. They were for yours." You nodded.

"Precisely. And it's not stealing! It's mine!"

"It is absolutely stealing, you're a menace."

"Your menace," you corrected, booping him on the nose before reaching for your wine.

"We're here!" Penelope's voice echoed through the house, followed by the cacophony of Emily and Derek arguing. It was about you.

"Just come in here!" You complained. There was a thunder of footsteps running through the front hallway and the three other agents cartoonishly paused in the doorway staring.

"You know people are allowed to get new jobs right?" Aaron asked. He wasn't usually the joker in the group, but sometimes with just the right amount of alcohol his dry humor took over.

"Thank god! I thought I was going to have to start planning two parties!" Penelope gushed, running over to hug you. You laughed, sliding out of Aaron's lap. He was reluctant to let you go. He had been every time you were together, now that you didn't see each other constantly he missed you being beside him.

"Anyway, if we ever separated I would get the team," you stage whispered. Aaron pinched your thigh.

"Absolutely no you wouldn't."

"We will have to write up a contract for your work divorce," Spencer laughed.

"That's not fair! He used to be a lawyer," you whined. Aaron pulled you back into his arms, resting his chin on your shoulder where you stood in front of his stool.

"187 over here can help you." You bickered and laughed and explained yourself to the team once JJ and Will arrived.

"I can't believe you thought we broke up," you sighed once dinner was over and all of you had settled in the backyard under the summer stars.

"I can't either," Dave laughed, "They have no idea how much more of a mess you two would be."

"Hey!" Both of you interjected. The team laughed as you both looked at each other. Aaron pulled you ever closer, nuzzling his nose to your cheek. He was properly drunk now, which is why you both decided ubering over was a better idea so you didn't have to worry about a car.

"He's right," he muttered, his letters slurring together. You chuckled, wrapping your arms over his shoulder and squishing him to your chest.

"I know. I would be too."

[ghostbsuter]

Water drips down in the corner, the steady dop drop drop— does wonders for the bat.

Batman has been taken, tied up, and undressed of his utility belt. It takes him a second to figure out who took him, by the large but empty and run down warehouse, the sound of the shore not far away.

The docks. He shuffles, bound and comm off.

Then, the steel enforced door slams open and Joker enters.

"Batsy!" He calls, overjoyed. The man walks to the bound vigilante and crouches to his height.

"It's been so long, hasn't it been?"

The vigilante grunts. "Joker."

"Today will be different." He goes on, "today, we have," the crime Prince drums his fingers on Batman's thigh. "A guest!"

He freezes at that, Joker has a civilian.

(Oracle sends out the message, her voice firm, and the coords are shared to the rest of the clan in seconds as she looks at her monitor. Batman's red dot at the harbour bright.)

"I'm a guest now?" The voice of a child asks, it brings slight confusion that the boy wasn't tied nor harmed in any way.

It's relief that he seems okay, but the danger of standing next to the Joker has Batman wiggling in his restrains.

"Is that a promotion or demotion for son?"

A brief look of annoyance enters Joker before being smoothed out, the boy is dealing with a delicate time bomb. Uncomfortably close to the madman.

(He hurries in the process of breaking free.)

"My son! My blood!" Sings the clown, throwing his hands around the boy's shoulders and prancing around.

Which brings another question.

Son?

Cool lighting hits the boy's head and the tuffs of pink, blue and green become more obvious, hidden beneath black hair previously.

Joker and Harley have a child. A son.

He will visit harley later. The boy comes first.

"Dante! Danyal! Daniel?" Joker croons, shaking the boy. "What was it again?" He stops, turning his son toward him with a grin.

(Robin drops down behind him, hiding, katana ready to be swung.)

"Danny, actually," the child— Danny– shrugs off the hands and steps back. Unflinching from the judging stare, simply waving off the hands creeping to his throat.

"Danny," the name is tested, and the Prince of Crime hums to himself. "We can always replace it as Joker Jr! It fits you better than Danny."

(Red Robin and Spoiler get on position above them, ready to pounce from the construction pillars.)

"Yeah, I don't know about that." He chuckles nervous, catching Batman's eyes and—

His eyes alone scream of fear, scared– scared—!!

"We will get you an acid flower, a new suit as well, the hoodie looks horrible on you." The man notes, humming.

"I prefer hammers." Danny replies with tense shoulders.

Joker clicks his tongue, "You always went after your mother." he hisses, outright glaring at his son now. His hand tightened around the crowbar he'd gathered not long ago.

"I mean," he hesitates, eye trailing off the Joker and over his shoulder. "I did come out of her."

The sound of a loaded gun shatters the silence, and Joker is pulling Danny, switching their positions and pushing him right in front of the gun in Red Hood's hand.

"Always a coward, hiding behind others, aren't you." Danny stops himself from squealing. That's the Red Hood!

(Escrima sticks light up with electricity as Red Hood speaks.)

Joker is ticked off, party ruined and surrounded now that he looks around.

Oh well, he can get his son on his villain path another day.

Cackling, he evades the escrimas, dodging the wonder boy and evading the twin attacks from above.

He pulls out a trigger and presses the bright red Button.

"Have fun bats and birds!"

The warehouse is completely flooded with fear gas, scarecrow wouldn't be mad he sacrificed one of his warehouses, will he?

It's all blurry. In one moment, his view is shrouded, and he's coughing. In another, he gets picked up and brought outside, the Joker gone.

An oxygen mask is placed on him by a paramedic, being handed off to an ambulance that had been called.

Peeking around, he sees Red Hood (!) still lingering around. Danny catches his eye and with a wave, the man is walking towards him.

He simply crosses his arms and tilts his head, waiting.

"Could I get a picture?" Danny blurts out, flushing after and coughing, holding the oxygen mask in his lap.

Red Hood makes a show of his shoulder sagging before crouching down and leaning toward him.

Later, Danny will look at the picture with a boyish grin, crooked and charming.

.・゜-: ✧ :-

A continuation

[wosoamazing]

Incident at the Trampoline Park

Summary: You break your arm at the trampoline park

Warnings: Dislocated Shoulder, Ambulance

“You excited Monkey?” Kyra asked as she threw you up in the air and caught you.

“Yesss!” you squeal.

“Guys, inside voices, and Kyra be careful, we don’t want any injuries today.” You Mum told you both off.

“Geez, when did you become such an old lady, we aren’t even there yet”.

“Calm down Cait, it’s okay, no one will get hurt and it will just be a fun day out” Your Ma told you Mum.

“Yeah okay, but is this really the best idea, I mean-” “Babe it’s going to be fine,” your Ma cut your Mum off as she placed a kiss on her check, “ready to go Munchkin?” you nodded eagerly.

Today was team bonding day, it was your Ma’s turn to choose the activity and organise it but because your Birthday had just passed and she wasn’t there with you because of international break she let you choose, and you chose to go to a trampoline park, everyone was hesitant to go at first but once they found out it was your choice not Katie’s they were all ecstatic to go. But there were still some on the team that were a bit cautious, your Mum being one of them. Everyone had been informed by their skippers that no one could get injured, as Jonas would kill them if someone got hurt, he strongly suggested to stay away from such activities.

The day had been going great, you met all the girls there and had heaps of fun.

“See, I told you everything would be fine,” your Ma told your Mum.

“Yeah, I guess so-” your Mum was interrupted by a blood curtailing scream, which was accompanied by a “Shit! KATIE! CAITLIN!” both your Mum’s looked over to where the sound came from and saw a bunch of commotion and before they knew it, they were running as fast as they could to get over there. When they reached the area, they saw your little body standing in the middle, Leah was supporting you, keeping you upright as you leaned on her, you were sobbing, face all wet, your left arm just hung by your side, you kept trying to touch it, but Leah kept pushing your arm away from it, which made you frustrated.

“Oh Munchkin,” your Ma cooed as she gently and carefully placed you in her lap.

“Does your shoulder hurt Monkey?” your Mum asked as she pushed the hair that had stuck to your face out of the way. You nodded.

“Coming through,” a path was cleared for the two paramedics.

“Hey little one, can you tell me your name?” the younger one asked you, you shook your head, you just wanted to the pain to go away. “That’s okay, does it hurt?” you nod before adding “f-feels wie-wierd”.

“Oh, that’s no good, I’m just going to touch you here okay,” he touches his own collar bone area, “I promise I won’t touch your shoulder though” you give him a small nod before he starts to feel your collar bone, a certain spot he touches feels very ouchy and you wince in pain.

“It’s okay baby,” your Ma says to you as she rubs your back.

After some more checking he turns to your Mum’s “Shoulder is definitely dislocated, however as she is a child we can’t reset it here, so the hospital will do that, she could also have a small break in her collar bone.” Your Mum’s nod.

______

You wined as Katie put you in your car seat, “I know its uncomfy but you have to sit in your car seat, how bout I sit next to you?” you gave her a small sad nod, “Cait, catch” she threw the keys at Caitlin, who managed to catch them.

“Since when do you let me drive?” “Since princess wants me to sit in the back with her,” “I think I remember you asking her. Not her asking you but anyway get in”.

A few minutes into the drive, you fell asleep. “Love you babe” Katie said from the back seat.

“What was that for? But love you too.” “Can’t a girl just tell her girl she loves her, does there need to be a reason” both of them chuckled. “I’ll update the girls”.

~~

North London is What?

Katie: Just thought to give you all an update, little miss had a dislocated shoulder and a hairline fracture in her collar bone, they were able to reset her shoulder in the ED. Has to wear a sling at all times for the next week and then we will find out more next week.

~~

They were flooded with heaps well wishes messages from the girls.

When you arrived home you were still sleeping so Caitlin when ahead to get some cushions, blankets, and other items to help make you comfortable on the couch and Katie carefully got you out of your car seat and inside, both women were thankful that you had stayed asleep. With you asleep on the couch they went into the kitchen to get some of the necessities, so they had them at arm’s reach, you were always very clingy whenever you were sick or hurt.

“You okay?” Caitlin asked Katie.

“What do you mean?” Katie asked almost defensively, Caitlin knew there was something definitely wrong, Katie only reacted like that when there was, and she had a small suspicion she knew what it was, well it was more than one thing.

“Babe, come here,” she said as she pulled her in closer for a hug, “you know you’re an amazing Mum.”

“It doesn’t feel like it Cait,” Katie’s voice broke, Caitlin unwrapped her arms from around Katie and move her hands up to either side of her face, using her thumbs to wipe away the few tears that had fallen out of Katie’s eyes, “hey, don’t cry, it’s okay, you are an amazing Mum she adores you.”

“But does she? She always chooses to go with you on camp, I’ve never been picked once.” More tears started falling out of Katie’s eyes and Caitlin wrapped her in another hug.

“You know, she only chooses to go on camp with me because of Harper, Kyra and Charli, I swear it’s like I don’t even exist on camp,” Katie lets out a small laugh, “Hang on, can you hear that?” Caitlin said, it sounded like there were voices coming from the living room.

“Hello?” Katie questioned as they walked into the living room seeing some of their teammates sitting there.

“We just thought to let ourselves in to drop off our gifts, we didn’t want to disturb you, but then we saw monkey and couldn’t help sitting down,” Steph admitted, Leah, Kyra and Beth all nodded in response.

Caitlin sat down next to a now awake you and Katie sat at your feet next to Leah, “You okay?” Leah asked Katie.

“Yeah,” Katie said as she nodded and gave a weak smile.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Your Mum asked you as she went to pull you in for a hug, but you climbed out of her arms and shuffled over to Katie.

“Want Ma,” you said, and with that Caitlin gave Katie a smile.

______

“No, want to stay with you,” you grumbled from your car seat, Katie had told you that you were going to stay inside with Oscar today at training, usually you loved spending time with Oscar, but you were still ouchy and wanted to say with your Mum’s.

Your Mum’s phone buzzed before she looked at it, “How-bout you sit on the side with Steph Monkey?”

“Stephy,” your voice perked up at the mention of one of your favourite people. Your Ma, looked at your Mum confused, “Steph just messaged the group chat, said her period is bad today so she messaged Jonas, he told her to sit out, so she is going to watch training from the sidelines.”

“Does that mean Stephy will be grouchy?” you questioned “No, Monkey, at least I don’t think so” you Mum replied laughing, your Ma sent her a death stare. Your Mum’s had told you what a period was when you first asked as they wanted to be open and honest about your body, but it washed over your head, clearly too young, the only thing you remember is it’s a lady problem that happens once a month, and it's why your Ma gets grouchy every month around a certain date, or at least that’s what your Mum said.

You arrived at the colony slightly later than normal today as it took a bit longer to get ready this morning due to the circumstances, so you went straight through to the training pitch, when you walked out on the grass you saw Steph in the shade near the water bottles, leaning again a wall, with her knees tucked into her chest.

“You alright?” Your Mum asked as you got closer to her.

“Yeah, just you know,” Steph replied, “Rough time?” she asked when she saw you, you seemed sadder than usual, for obvious reasons, but also extra clingy and you held your stuffy and blanky in your good arm which Steph never saw you with unless it was nap time or bedtime.

“More like rough last 5 minutes, there were some tears shed as we got out of the car seat, but yeah also rough night, someone didn’t get much sleep” she replied to her teammate before kneeling down in front of you “do you want to ask your question to Steph?”

“Stephy, I sit with you, please?” you asked softly.

“Of course, Monkey, how bout you sit in my lap?” you nodded softly at her suggestion.

“You sure, she has a pillow, Katie has it, she can just lay down next to you,” Your Mum said, she was concerned for her friend, she had never seen her bothered by her period.

“I’m sure Cait, don’t worry it’s fine, and plus I don’t think she is going to be causing me much trouble” Steph said as she opened her arms for you, she helped keep you steady as you climbed into her lap, you put your legs out in front of you, they were much shorter than Steph’s, your feet barely touched her knees, you then leaned your back on her stomach and your head rested just below her chest, the wind was chilly so your Mum put your blanket over you and soon enough you had fallen asleep.

[2btheanswertothequestion]

(part 2 of November Paramedic; part 1 is here.)

Steve's honey-sweet eyes, gleaming with confidence, ask 'why don't you take a bite?'

His pink mouth, deliciously curved, wonders 'don't you want a taste?'

His dark chest hair, leading a mouthwatering path down his pants, says 'you know you want to'.

And Eddie does. He really does. He would, if Steve was actually here. Alas, all Eddie has is the calendar photo currently staring at him from where it's propped on Eddie's dresser, and he's not biting into it. It's the only one he's got, you see; he won't be ruining it with bite marks and drool due to his intrusive thoughts.

If he had a copy machine close at hand, though? If he could make as many pictures as he'd possibly want? Oho, watch out, Slobbertown!

It's been one week since Steve the sexy paramedic revealed himself to be a real person and not just a dude in a softcore porn calendar. One week since he Florence Nightingale'd Eddie before vanishing in a flurry of bloody gauze and blinking blue lights, leaving both Eddie and Gareth breathless.

(Though in Gareth's case, it was due to laughing so hard he choked on himself.)

The calendar doesn't do it for him anymore. Don't misunderstand – he still uses it when beating the meat. In fact, it has exclusively become his primary masturbatory aid, and it has served him especially well the past few days. The moment those 48 hours were over and Gareth left, Eddie chucked off his sweatpants and went to, well, Slobbertown. But it's not the same anymore. How could it be, when he knows the real Steve's hair smells like a meadow and his aftershave like lemon and spice? When he's felt the pressure of Steve's fingertips on his jaw? When he's seen the faint scar running down Steve's chin from his mouth? When he can still hear Steve's voice use his name, give him orders, call him 'sir'?

It's impossible. Fuck, just whenever Eddie closes his eyes Steve's face appears, as vividly as if it happened yesterday. Of course, that might have something to do with Eddie already having made himself oh so familiar with Steve's face, and chest, and hands, and… everything else, for the past two years. Jesus damn it, if he knew this was where he'd end up he never would've bought the calendar in the first place.

Groaning, he throws himself back on his bed; then he shouts as his head thumps into the wall. Typical. He rubs at the spot to soothe it. No bump, though it hurts like a bitch. Pain (and suspicion he just aggravated the previous head injury) aside, he's comfortable, thus he sprawls out and stares at the ceiling as planned.

He's been distracted. He knows that because literally everyone has been on his case about it. Gareth gives him smug smiles that have turned alarmingly calculated as the week has passed. Jeff and Marv, having been filled in by Gareth, are rather more amused in a benign way. His boss almost sent him home to recuperate after catching him staring into space for the third time. Uncle Wayne noticed something was off through the phone. And Max has been giving him weird looks.

Ah, little Max. The only person in the complex who doesn't steer clear of him. She doesn't actually know what went down – not completely. She knows he got injured, because she caught him and Gareth as they stumbled home while she was exiting her apartment to toss the trash. Her sharp eyes zeroed in on the plaster, and on Eddie's arm that was slung over Gareth's shoulders for support (at Gareth's insistence).

"You got in a fight?" she asked.

With a grin he'd exclaimed, "Battle? You know me better than that! Nay, I did my utmost to escape the violence... but the ruffian got to me regardless."

"Huh. You okay?"

Gareth had rolled his eyes. "He's fine. I mean, listen to him."

"Don't worry about me, Red." Eddie tapped his own head. "This ol' noggin is harder than it looks."

A corner of her mouth twisted up, though if it was in amusement he couldn't tell in the dim hallway. They ought to team up against the super; maybe their combined whining will have him finally fix that broken light bulb.

"Make sure you don't take aspirin or ibuprofen," she said. "It can-"

"Yeah, I know. Paramedic already told me."

"Good. Is our lesson still on?"

"Certainly, m'dear."

And then he'd tipped an imaginary hat, she snorted, and Gareth hauled his ass to bed.

He didn't see Max again until Sunday afternoon, when she came by for their aforementioned weekly guitar lesson. Parking themselves on each end of the couch, his acoustic in her lap, he'd made her play the 'homework' from the previous Sunday. It sounded pretty good. She honestly won't need his help soon – probably doesn't need it now. She understands basic theory and is diligent about practicing. He'd be fine with awarding her temporary custody of the guitar for a while. She insists on coming over, however, claiming she has to be perfect by the time of the next open mic down at Connie's Corner Coffee.

The reason she has to be perfect? Well. Eddie is pretty sure it's to impress her boy. She hasn't confirmed that it's for her boy, or even that she has one, but it totally is and she totally does. He knows this because 1. she becomes flustered and grumpy (grustered? Flumpy?) every time he brings it up, and 2. if she was learning to play for herself he'd be subjected to a lot more Pink Floyd and a lot less Curtis Mayfield.

It's cute, to be honest. Picking up an instrument for a boy you like? That's romantic as fuck. If he hadn't been the Lord of All Losers he would've serenaded tons of boys when he was younger. Hell, he'd do it now, if only there were anyone willing to listen. But he hasn't had as much as a date in ages, and none of his previous attempts at relationships ever reached the 'romantic gestures' stage.

Maybe he should ask Max to set him up with someone. Why not? She probably meets dozens of people every day, at the campus, at the skatepark, wherever else she hangs. If there's anyone who could sort out his disastrous love life, it's Max Mayfield. She's so put together, and she's not even 20 yet. She's got her own place (in a supremely shitty building, but still a place), she's got a man (reluctant as she is to admit it), and she is halfway through her math degree. A fucking math degree, for Christ's sake! Math majors are built for solving problems!

Maybe she could even calculate how many times he'd need to injure himself before he'd meet the one paramedic he wanted to kiss… him better.

It was around that point of his daydreaming that Max shot a hair tie at his forehead and demanded he stop zoning out and correct her hand placement.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her eyebrows furrowing deeper than usual. "Have you been resting?"

"Yes. For the prescribed 48 hours, and then some. I'm fine."

She'd frowned, scrutinizing him with those pale blue eyes. He squared his shoulders and met her gaze like a man. Easier said than done, to be truthful. He likes Max – she's fun, easily the most kickass neighbor he's ever had – but she can be intense. And when she gets her stare on? She's downright creepy.

"I'd prefer to cancel over you fucking up your head more," she at last said, posture stiff and chin jutting. 'Don't lie to me,' is what she meant.

Eddie sighed. "Red… I'm fine. Seriously."

And he was. Physically speaking, at least. Mentally, he'd always been a little off. Part of the patented Munson charm, really.

She must've realized that, because she relaxed, her expression going from 'active bitch face' and back to 'resting'.

"All right. Sorry for being overbearing. It's just." She shrugged a shoulder, gripping the neck of the guitar as it started sliding off her crossed legs. "One of my closest friends is a medical professional. Another one is studying biology. They've been discussing human anatomy and… I guess they've gotten into my head."

Damn his friends for caring. How was he supposed to sell this image of a dark, dangerous, rocker dude if he was constantly misty-eyed from how sweet his buds were to him? He leaned forward to pat her knee.

"I appreciate the concern, unnecessary as it is. But!" He drew himself back and pointed in the air. "We're not postponing! Open mic is less than a month away – you only have so many days left before you'll be on that stage, in front of aaaaall those people… and your beau."

He's certain that if she hadn't still been sorta concerned about his health, she'd have smacked him.

That was Sunday afternoon. Now is Wednesday evening. He is still hung up on Thursday. He doesn't even know why. Yes, he was face-to-face with the hottest guy ever. Sure, that same guy has been the star of his most critically acclaimed fantasies. Indeed, he hasn't gotten laid in eons. Of course, he's pent-up with sexual frustration and yearning for another man's touch.

But still. He's not an animal or a sex-crazed teenager. He's smart enough to know that nothing good will come of this. It's not like he'll ever see Steve again. That'd be so unrealistic.

A knock on his front door reaches his ears. Eddie makes no effort to get up and answer it. He's not expecting anyone – whoever it is will have to return another day.

The knocking turns into a pounding, followed by yelling.

"Eddie! Let me in, asshole, I know you're there!"

Ugh. What does he want? Hasn't he heard of texting?

Eddie drags himself off the bed and toward the door. Yanking it open, he's met by Gareth's self-satisfied visage.

"Good evening," he says, heedless of Eddie’s glare. "I come hither with your solution."

"My solution?" Eddie mutters as he stalks to his couch to crumple into another heap.

Gareth follows him inside. "I have a plan to get your man!"

"What? Who? What?"

"Steve. November-paramedic," Gareth says, like it's obvious, which, what the actual fuck?

"He's not my man?"

"But he could be."

"Gareth, what the fuck-"

He moves to sit up, but Gareth's palm hits him square in the diaphragm and pushes him back down.

"No, listen: you are a terrible patient."

"I'm not-"

"Remember back in high school, when that asshole rear-ended us in the intersection at Hickory and 5th?"

Eddie grimaces. How could he forget? They'd stopped at a red light when a drunken motherfucker plowed into them, sending them careening into the T-junction. One car managed to break before hitting them; another veered only to crash into a fourth car. The result was, for them, whiplash injuries and, for the people who collided, bruises, sprains, and a dislocated joint. It had been the scariest moment of Eddie's life, and the neck pain had been excruciating. That wasted piece of shit was lucky no one died.

He says, "Yeah?"

"You were so snarky with that poor EMT."

"Okay, first off, I was a snot-nosed brat back then-"

"Dude, you were nineteen."

"-and she was rude to me first."

"She was following protocol!" Gareth shakes his head. "The point is that you never follow orders or instructions, not even when a doctor tells you to. But November-Steve? I've never seen you be so pliable."

"I-"

"And after, when I had to babysit you for two fucking days? I expected it to be difficult. But you were so busy sighing and yearning-" he says, ignoring Eddie's indignant sputtering, "-and replaying him tenderly caressing your face with his big, manly hands and holding your gaze with those big, manly eyes-"

"Do you want to fuck him?"

"-that you forgot to complain or be a contrarian about everything." Gareth smiles, sweet as cavities. "It was great. I'd like to recapture that. And if November-Steve is the one to bring it out of you, well!"

Eddie glowers at him. No, really! With the metaphorical thunder clouds swirling over his head and everything! His world has been shook. It is tilted off its axis, and it's his best friend's duty to mock him relentlessly for it. But this? Trying to encourage him? Give him hope? That's going too far.

Gareth notices. Of course he does; curse the heart on Eddie's sleeve. The sickly-sugary smugness evaporates off him, and he takes a seat on the dingy couch seat.

"Eddie," he says with a softness reserved for a select few individuals. "Seriously. You've been all moon-eyed for a week. You've been thinking about him. Really thinking."

Eddie balloons his cheeks and huffs out the air. "Well. If you spend two years jerking it to a guy-"

"Gross."

"-and then he suddenly appears before you, in the flesh? I've been fantasizing about it. He's a fantasy. And when it actually happens, that's…"

He trails off. Gareth knocks their shoulders together.

"He seemed nice."

Eddie scoffs. "I spoke to him for fifteen minutes. Tops."

"Fifteen nice minutes. You haven't dated in ages. Maybe this is a sign?"

Chuckling, Eddie slumps his head onto Gareth's shoulder. They're the wrong heights for it, so it's awkward and strenuous on the neck. He remains.

"You're just looking for another opportunity to embarrass me," he says.

"Embarrass you and improve your life. Like only true friends strive to do."

Eddie hums. "So what's your fucking plan?"

Gareth shifts, turning toward Eddie, but doesn't say anything yet. Glancing up, Eddie is met by a zoomed-in, upside-down view of Gareth's pointy grin, his canines gleaming.

"The university!"

------------------------------

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No longer adding to the tag list, due to numbers and (hopefully temporary) technical difficulties. Please save or memorize the tag #steddie fic: november paramedic instead; all the parts will be there (unless something goes terribly wrong).

Thank you for reading! 🖤 ☺

Part 3

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Family at Your Side

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x shy!paramedic!fem!Buckley!reader

Summary: You, Evan Buckley's sister, are a paramedic with the 118. When you're called to a fire, it quickly becomes a crime scene when someone opens fire on you. Your boyfriend Tim Bradford and your fire station family have to work together to save you.

Warnings: angst, fluff, injuries (r is shot), depiction of arson/shooting, lots of teasing. [While r is Evan's sister, I don't put anything specific in here past some teasing, so it could be viewed as adoptive or some other relationship dynamic!]

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

A/N: I've only seen a few episodes of 911 (season 1), so I hope my characterization of them isn't completely terrible. I really like this dynamic though; it's so fun and complex!!

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

“There’s no escape,” you whisper under your breath, desperately wishing for some relief.

“Oh, c’mon, we’re not that bad,” Buck replies, knocking his fist against your shoulder. “We’re better than the cop.”

“In every way!” Hen adds, smiling at you. “Why you started dating him is one of the two things I will never understand about you.”

“What’s the other?” you ask.

“How you-“ she turns to point to Buck as she continues, “and him are related. He can’t shut up and you can’t make eye contact.”

“I got all the good genes,” Buck explains, smiling.

“Yet none of the smarts,” Hen argues, pressing her lips together as she tilts her head.

“Or looks,” Nash calls from his place in the kitchen. “Now if you’re done bothering her, can someone set the table?”

You stand to help, and Nash points a spatula at you as he says, “Not you. You do it all the time. Make your brother do something for once.”

“She has no power over me!” Buck yells dramatically. “I have leverage. Like that time she-“

Chimney hits the back of his head, telling him to stop, as your chin drops to your chest. The alarm goes off before you can wonder which embarrassing story he was planning to use, and as you rush to the ambulance with Hen, you’re glad Chimney stopped him. Their attention was bad enough without him divulging your personal information.

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is a suspected arson, meets the MO of a few previous fires. We need that fire out before the police get here so they can get in,” Nash announces.

“Anyone inside?” Hen asks.

As Nash answers, someone screams in pain, and you look at Nash. He hesitates before nodding, and you grab your bag before running into the clear side of the duplex.

“Los Angeles Fire and Rescue,” you call. “Is anyone in here?”

“Yes! I need help!” a man yells from the back of the dwelling.

Rushing through, you radio to the rest of the 118 that you’re looking for an injured resident.

“We can’t get the fire under control,” Buck answers, his voice tight. “You need to get out of there.”

“I see him. Keep trying, Buck. Sir, are you injured?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he answers shakily. “I smelled the smoke and- and I have asthma, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and I was scared to leave.”

“Okay, take a deep breath, sir. I’m a paramedic, so I’m going to get you out of here and then we’ll make sure your airways are clear. Do you understand?”

He nods but refuses when you gesture for him to stand.

“It’s on fire!” he argues.

“Sir, we have a clear track to the front door, but the fire will spread with the Santa Anas blowing outside, so we need to go now,” you explain.

Something crashes outside, and you pull the man to his feet.

“Get out of there! If I don’t see you in ten seconds, I’m coming in after you,” Buck radios.

“We’re coming, Buck,” you answer, pulling the man along.

More sirens become audible as you reach the door, the fire much closer to the front of the building. Several police cars approach, and you breathe a sigh of relief. The man stops, and you turn toward him quickly.

“Sir, we’re almost there,” you remind him, pointing to the ambulance.

“He’s still out here!”

“Who?” you ask, your voice quieting again as the adrenaline wears off.

“The man who set the fire!”

You freeze, a sudden cold rush contrasting the heat from the fire.

“Where is he?”

“I- I don’t know.”

A shot rings through the air, and you drop to the small porch, pulling the man behind the railing beside you. The fire is moving toward you, but with no idea of where that shot came from, you can’t move and risk your life and this man’s.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Everybody down!” Nash yells, ducking behind the truck.

“7-Adam-19, shots fired at my location. LAFD 118 and LAPD in need of backup, dispatch air support for possible sniper,” Tim calls, kneeling behind his shop before rushing to the fire truck.

“She’s still up there,” Buck calls, squatting behind the ambulance with Hen.

“Who?”

Buck and Nash look at each other and then Tim, and he immediately knows they’re talking about you.

“Backup is on the way, but we can’t do anything yet,” Tim explains.

“Bradford, the fire is spreading, we can’t stop it with this wind!” Nash adds.

“Or a sniper taking shots at us!” Buck yells. He drops his head to his radio to ask, “Sis, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What’s going on?”

“Bradford and Thorsen are here, they called for backup but we can’t do anything until-“

Another shot cuts him off, and you move back against the railing.

“Talk to me!” Buck yells into his receiver.

“I’m okay, Buck,” you reply quietly. “Our- uh- our guy passed out after working himself up, so…”

“He’s not our primary concern right now,” Buck responds.

“Careful,” you warn, your voice nearly inaudible.

“No, I happen to agree,” Nash adds to the conversation.

Tim pulls Chimney’s radio from his chest to say, “I do too. You take care of you, and we’ll worry about him when we can get up there.”

The radio stays quiet, and Tim looks around the end of the truck. He can’t see you, but knowing you’re out of sight and safe makes him feel better.

“Uh, Tim?” Aaron asks. “Eyes on our shooter.”

Tim turns quickly, looking up. He sees the end of the rifle, and when it lowers suddenly, he doesn’t think before yelling at you.

“Stay down!” he screams.

You drop lower, your face to the concrete as the shooter releases several rounds, making a line of bullet holes across the front of the duplex. The fire is moving slowly, but it’s still closing in on your hiding place.

The cold feeling hasn’t gone away, and as you look at the unconscious man at your side, you can only hope to make it out alive.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Where is your backup?” Buck asks Tim, leaning forward to look past Hen.

“Still a minute out. Aaron and I are going to go through that building, find a way to the roof,” Tim answers.

“Be careful. We all care about the woman stuck back there,” Nash reminds him.

Aaron and Tim nod before moving between the shop and the fire truck, rushing to the main entrance and entering quietly.

“Go left, I’ll go right,” Tim whispers.

As they move up the stairs, Tim hears their backup and the airship approaching. He hopes that the shooter doesn’t do anything stupid when he sees the police and gestures for Aaron to go faster.

“LAPD, put the weapon down!” an officer demands over the speaker of the airship.

“Thorsen, go!” Tim yells, kicking the door open to walk onto the roof.

The man turns the rifle up, shooting toward the helicopter before it moves. Aaron and Tim approach from different sides, and when the gun suddenly drops and the man begins emptying his ammunition toward you, Tim doesn’t hesitate to shoot.

“7-Adam-19, suspect is down,” Aaron radios. “Tim, go get her.”

Nodding, Tim stands, rushing down the stairs and out into the road. The fire has worsened, and the 118 is still in place.

Evan sees Tim and clenches his jaw, stepping toward Tim to yell, “This is your fault! It’s all on you!”

 Tim’s brows furrow, looking to Nash for more information.

“She’s, uh- she’s not responding to the radio calls, and we can’t get up there until we get part of the fire out, enough to get through with our gear,” Nash explains.

“You should have brought enough backup to begin with or gone up there sooner!” Buck continues.

“You think I don’t know that?” Tim snaps. “But she was already stuck when I got here, so work on getting to her and getting her safe, and then you can get mad at me!”

“And if it’s too late?” Buck demands, his chest heaving in anger.

Tim looks away, and Buck moves forward quickly, causing Nash and Chimney to lunge forward and hold him back.

“I’ll kill you if we’re too late!”

“Buck!” Tim yells, walking to him. “I know this is my fault and if she doesn’t make it, her blood is on my hands. I’m sorry, I really am, but there is nothing I can do now except keep people back so you can get this fire out and find out if- and make sure she is okay.”

Buck relaxes slightly, pushing Chimney and Nash off of him.

“Let’s get her out!” Nash calls, directing everyone to their positions.

✯✯✯✯✯

The man beside you groans as you tug him further against the wall. You’re caged in against the fire, and you dropped your radio, watching it burn as you kept your head down.

When water sprays onto your face, a steady stream coming from the street, you force a smile, hoping to get out, get warm, and hug your brother and Tim for as long as you can before they make you shy away from them. You love them for it, you remember, reminding yourself to think happy thoughts.

“Where’s the ambulance?” the man slurs before coughing.

“Just a minute, sir, keep your head down and breathe.”

The fire is driven back by two hoses, and when several feet are clear on the side of the railing, people begin yelling.

“Sis! Can you hear me?” Buck asks loudly, appearing in his turnout gear a moment later.

“Get him to the ambulance,” you reply, standing shakily as he pulls the man over his shoulder.

You walk into the small yard, looking for Tim. The persistent cold feeling is just beginning to concern you, and when you grow dizzy and stop in the yard, you realize that something is wrong. Raising your hands to press against your stomach, you begin to run through a mental list of potential injuries.

“Hey, hey, gorgeous, c’mon, we got to get back,” Tim calls as he jogs to your side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, ducking away from his hands on your face.

“Good,” Tim replies, laying his hand on your upper back and directing you to the curb.

“You got lucky,” Buck grumbles, joining your other side across from Tim.

“We all did our jobs, Buck, she’s safe, just leave it,” Tim says lowly.

“No thanks to you!” Buck responds, stepping forward.

You recognize the look in his eyes, an anger he seems to reserve for you. Without thinking, you move a hand from your navel and push it against Buck’s chest to stop him. He and Tim look at your bloody hand before yelling your name as you tip back.

Buck catches you, lowering you onto the grass as he rips your shirt open.

“Hen!” he screams, a pained, guttural sound that draws the attention of the entire 118.

Hen sees you on the ground, unconscious between Buck and Tim, and rushes to you, her bag thrown over her shoulder.

“GSW,” she decides quickly, looking at your stomach, a mess of tattered fabric and blood. “Roll her over, carefully.”

Tim keeps his hands on your side, helping Buck tip you onto one side as Hen runs her hand down your spine.

“No exit wound, we need to go. Now.”

Leaning back, Tim gives Buck room to lift you, running to the ambulance as fast as possible.

“Are you coming?” he yells, raising his arms as he looks at Tim.

“Go!” Nash, Chimney, Aaron, and newly arrived Nolan yell.

Tim nods, rushing into the ambulance and sitting as it lurches into motion.

“I didn’t mean it,” Buck says, looking at you while he speaks to Tim. “It’s not your fault, but I can’t- I can’t lose her.”

“You won’t. We won’t,” Tim promises.

Hen works quickly, muttering under her breath about needing your help.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you open your eyes, you first notice the unmistakable feeling of someone looking at you and touching your side, a gentle touch as fingers drag up and down your skin.

“Is he okay?” you ask, blinking against the harsh light above you.

“The man from the duplex?” Buck asks. “Yeah, he’s fine. Had an asthma attack and then a few panic attacks, but he’s good. You- you got shot and didn’t tell anyone.”

Tipping your head down, you’re surprised he’s standing at the end of your bed. This means the fingers on your exposed side belong to…

“Tim,” you whisper, glancing at him.

“You scared us, baby,” he replies softly, spreading his warm hand over your skin.

He smiles when your muscles tense beneath him, but it quickly disappears when you groan in pain.

“I didn’t mean not to tell you,” you say quietly, pinching the blanket between your fingers. “I didn’t know I got shot.”

“That’s kinda- that’s pretty epic, really,” Buck says, laying his hand on your foot. “Makes a good party story.”

“I don’t go to parties,” you grumble.

“I mean for me,” he replies happily.

“Are you two fighting?” you ask, looking between them.

“No,” they answer together, both squeezing you reassuringly.

“We were scared and upset, didn’t have anywhere else to take it out,” Buck explains with a shrug. “He’s just lucky you stopped me from hitting him. I would’ve removed him from active duty for six weeks minimum.”

“You wish,” Tim scoffs.

“Stop,” you say, chuckling when they look shocked at your bold demand. “Please.”

“You were in surgery for a long time,” Tim tells you. “How’s your pain?”

“It’s fine, manageable. I mean, I can feel it now, but it’s not too bad.”

You glance down, your brows furrowing as you realize why you could feel Tim’s skin directly on yours.

“Wondering where your hospital gown is?” Tim asks, a smile you know all too well on his face. “I put in a special request.”

“Gross. That’s my sister,” Buck interjects. When you look at him with wide eyes, he sighs and fills you in: “They couldn’t get to your stomach well enough with one on. If you want to cover up, we’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, gently tugging the band of your sports bra down.

“More than okay,” Tim says, quiet enough that Buck can’t hear.

You look away quickly, and Buck makes a ‘tsk’ sound.

“The shooter is in custody,” Tim says, giving you a break from his ‘abuse.’

“Will I have to testify or anything?” you whisper.

“No,” Tim and Buck answer together.

Buck pulls his phone from his pocket, nodding before shaking your ankle, his hand still resting on you.

“I have to go, we’ve got a call, but when we’re done, everyone wants to come by,” he says.

You nod. “Be careful. I love you.”

“Love you, sis!”

Looking at Tim’s chest rather than his face, he takes the chance to tease you. “Maybe you should get a shirt before your team gets here.”

“Get out,” you mumble. “Or give me yours.”

“Whoa! You get shot once and become a whole new person.”

“Wasn’t worth it.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Tim replies, taking your hand. “And I’m sorry that I couldn’t do anything to keep it from happening.”

“’S not your fault.”

Turning your attention back to the blanket, Tim asks, “You get this shy with your patients?”

“No. But they’re not as pushy.”

“Hey,” Tim calls, using his hand to gently turn your chin toward him. “I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I love you, too. Thanks for being here through all of it.”

“Try to get rid of me.”

“I do. You never listen.”

Tim laughs, loud and happy, and you smile, turning your face into his arm where it holds your hand, glad he’s at your side, and you have a whole team, a family, to be with you through everything.

[romcomxb]

AU where Mav n Ice managed to convince Bradley not to join the Navy.

(stick with me there’s hangster in here i promise-)

Instead of pulling Bradley’s papers, Mav and Ice sat down with Bradley and explained his mother’s wishes and their concerns. Really, they just had an adult conversation about it. Of course, Bradley was pissed, but more so at his mum than Maverick or Ice. Eventually he agreed, much to the older men’s relief, though Mav did feel a bit guilty about it. He knew Goose would have loved to see his son take after him.

Bradley took a few weeks to explore some other career options, he knew he still wanted to fly in some capacity. With his dads all being pilots, he’d had plenty of off the book lessons from them and all his honorary uncles. He had a knack for it. And he knew he wanted to help people. He had volunteered at his local fire-station for a few years and had acquired his basic first aid qualifications through that. But beyond that, he was lost.

Until he heard about Wilderness EMT’s. It was at at a careers expo Ice had dragged him along to after school and he really didn’t want to be there.

They wandered the expo for a while, until the first responders area caught his eye. Bradley looked through the police and fire rescue stalls first, took some pamphlets and asked a few questions, but nothing really struck him.

As Ice wandered off to look at the Navy section out of curiosity, Bradley lined up to look at the Paramedics stall. As he talked to the lady at the front for a bit, they got onto the topic of the specifics of her career. Before she had taken a job in recruitment, she had been a Wilderness EMT, basically a branch on paramedics where she was trained in search and rescue, providing medical aid to remote areas. This immediately sparked Bradley’s interest, it had the adrenaline he had been looking for, all whilst making a real difference for real people.

By the time Ice had returned, he had quizzed the lady for almost an hour and to say that he was excited was an understatement. The teen was practically bouncing out of his seat on the drive home.

‘I just need to get my general EMT certification, then do a wilderness specific training course as the basics.’ Bradley was grinning ear from ear. ‘Then from there I can do swift water, high angle rescue training and disaster response training. And a bunch of other short courses- but I can do those quickly- And that’s not even the best part!’

Ice bit his lip and kept quiet. He was happy for Bradley, of course, it was nice to see him so excited about something, but this sounded dangerous. It wasn’t the Navy, but still.

‘She said I can finish getting my pilots license and use that for search and rescue. And if I can get my helicopter license I can still fly!’ He grinned. ‘And it’s not gonna be dangerous like your job, but it’s still so cool.’

Ice nodded, still worried, but Bradley seemed serious about this. They’d already stopped him from one career opportunity, if they told him he couldn’t do this, Bradley may never talk to them again.

And as it turned out, he was dead serious about it. Within three years, Bradley had flown through his Paramedics degree, and got a job as a regular EMT. Whilst he worked, he continued with his helicopter license, and began ticking off the required courses. Another two years later, he was a fully qualified Wilderness EMT.

It had taken a while for Mav to get on board with the idea, but after seeing the fufillment in Bradley’s face when he came home after saving a life, he could help the pride that flowed through him. Goose would have been over the moon.

Bradley quickly excelled at his job, showing just how disciplined he was, both in the field and with the patients. His bedside manner was impeccable and had an incredibly cool head under pressure. He progressed fast, becoming a team leader in no time. There wasn’t as much room for advancement as there was in the Navy, but Bradley did what he could.

He loved his job and though it had one of the highest burnout rates in the country, he couldn’t see himself quitting anytime soon. He lived for the adrenaline of his work. Every day was different, he could be providing help to flooded communities, or hiking mountains in search of a missing person. It could be anything from pulling someone from an avalanche, or airlifting someone who’d twisted an ankle and didn’t feel like walking out.

And the sense of satisfaction he got after saving a life. Made him feel like he was in control. Like he could make a meaningful difference in someone’s life by getting them home safe.

Of course there were hard days. When someone died in transit, or they just couldn’t get them out in time. When their missing person just didn’t turn up. It could be traumatising, but he made sure to talk with Ice and Mav about it, or his work friends, there were so many people around him who knew how to cope. He figured it out pretty fast.

One day Bradley’s team got called to a pretty notable rescue. An F18 had gone into a flatspin during training somewhere over a mountain and the pilot had ejected. A pilot by the name of Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Hangman had ejected safely, but the descent through the trees had fucked up his ankle, and he couldn’t walk.

The Navy’s equipment hadn’t been advanced enough, so they had called on the WEMT’s, whom for this kinda mission was their bread and butter. (shush i’m taking creative liberties)

They found him quickly and Bradley was the one to cut him out of his parachute and bring him up to the helicopter. Just imagine Jake being half unconscious as a handsome moustachioed angel leans over him and tells him everything’s gonna be alright.

The ride back included an ever exasperated Bradley and a lovestruck delirious Hangman who had decidedly not injured his mouth and would not shut up. As they reached the hospital, Jake asked him out. Bradley surprised even himself by agreeing to it, he hadn’t been in a serious relationship in years, it could be nice to get back out there.

They grew close, fast. Though Bradley never explained why he knew so much about Jake’s job. Not until Jake was finally invited around to ‘meet the parents’. Just imagine his surprise when he walks into the Admiral Kazansky’s home, who is apparently married to his instructor. Bradley thought the look on his face was hilarious and he would bring up the moment at any opportunity for the next few years.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You hurt yourself with Tangerine's brass knuckles.

Prompt: grumpy x sunshine - "I told you not to touch that, now look what you've done!"

~ here you go @whimsical-roasting! hope you like this!! thank you for requesting 💖 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

Tangerine had told you a thousand times not to touch his brass knuckles. He didn't want you using them and hurting yourself because he knows you don't know how to use them correctly.

However, especially three wine glasses in, you never did listen to him on important matters.

You're sitting in your living room fiddling with the brass knuckles Tangerine had been showing you as he left for a refill on the wine you'd been comfortably sharing.

You throw some air punches, scrunching your face as best as you like you've seen your boyfriend do when he's training, and on rarer occasions when he's fighting.

It's fun. Very fun. Or it is until you get the marvelous idea to try and punch solid things. 

You start lightly, punching the cushions. Then you move to harder surfaces until, for some stupid reason, you decide to see how hard you can punch the wall. 

Horrible idea considering you dent the drywall and your wrist bends awkwardly, the brass knuckles digging into your skin.

You shriek and pull your hand away, the knuckles feeling weirdly stuck onto your hand now as the pain becomes unbearable. Tears pool in your eyes and you stand up just as Tangerine walks into the room again.

"Darlin'?"

"Tan–" you wail and rush to him, cradling your wrist as you stumble over in your slippers and hold out your arm to him. Silent tears are falling down your cheeks as the pain worsens.

Tangerine's eyes widen and he rushes forward to you, carefully lifting your arm. His eyes narrow when he sees his brass knuckles on your hand and how weirdly bent your hand looks. 

"You absolute git," he hisses and uses his other hand to pet your hair, "I told you not to touch that, now look what you've done," he says and kisses your forehead, his heart breaking at the sight of your tears.

"How badly does it hurt, my luv?"

"Very badly," you can barely speak and Tangerine knows it's worse than it looks. So, he calls an ambulance because he doesn't trust himself to drive you after three glasses of wine and with you in this state.

He tries his best to be calm and make up an excuse to the poor paramedics why you'd almost broken your hand, his illegal brass knuckles safely in his locked drawer again.

He should have never shown them to you. He feels irresponsible. 

Tangerine angry at you, but mostly at himself because you're too good. You're an angel who shouldn't have even been exposed to such a weapon and that's on him. He sits in the chair in the doctor's room, watching the doctor bandage your hand and tell you you're lucky it's only sprained and not broken.

They've given you some pain medication and when the doctor steps out for a moment, you look over at your very guilty-looking boyfriend. 

"I'm sorry," you start.

"I shouldn't have left them alone with you," he interrupts in a whisper. 

You shake your head pointedly. "No. I'm not a child. I should have known better and listened to you. I was just curious."

Tangerine chuckles and runs a hand over his face. "I know ya were and that's why I should have been more careful. Should have been paying closer attention to my girl, hm?" he stands and walks closer, holding your cheek in his hand as he smiles. "Feelin' better now?"

You nod and some of your cheek returns because you ask. "Teach me how to use them next time?"

Hearing your quip, Tangerine raises an eyebrow and makes a tsk sound with his lips, shaking his head. "You're really gonna be the death of me, aren't ya?"

Your little laugh gives him all the answers he needs and he smirks, feigning annoyance when really he adores you.

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion

[buddierecs]

jealous!eddie diaz buddie fics

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

hold the line (to my heart) by: erotes "eddie diaz is not jealous. it is entirely normal to be annoyed that his best friend is busy flirting in the middle of a crisis. obviously." word count: 7k important tags: 911 lone star characters, oblivous!eddie diaz, getting together counting pulses by: tinyydancerr "eddie diaz’s life is going great. he’s in therapy, he’s got a great girlfriend, a great kid, his friend is getting married to the woman of his dreams, and his best friend just came out to him. now his best friend is dating their new friend. things are going great. he promises." word count: 63k important tags: buck/tommy, eddie diaz has ocd, catholic guilt, pining, buckley-diaz family, co-parenting, slow burn hey now, hey now by: fallingthorns "after returning to the 118, eddie becomes a full-time paramedic and ravi becomes buck's partner. eddie absolutely doesn't feel anything about that, not at all." word count: 10k important tags: 5+1 things, fluff, pining, humour, getting together, love confessions i used to call you my best friend (way back before you were my everything) by: snowyroads "in which eddie is so in love with his best friend but that’s totally normal. oh, and hen’s tired of his shit." word count: 5.3k important tags: sexuality crisis, pining, fluff, getting together, sexual tension my heart aches with love for you by: farfromthstars "eddie and marisol run into buck and tommy on a date. eddie is not jealous." word count: 1.7k important tags: feelings realisation, pre-relationship, pining advice wanted by: cairparavels "eddie diaz takes to reddit to figure out why he hates his best friend’s new boyfriend so much." word count: 8k important tags: social media, reddit, misunderstandings, tommy kinard bashing, idiots in love, fluff, angst, humour, mutual pining, getting together good luck, babe by: hattalove "sometimes, when you've had a bad week, all you want is a romantic evening out with your wife over terrible pizza, and what you get instead is some kind of intricate gay ritual happening two tables away from you." word count: 2.1k important tags: outsider pov, social media, twitter you're the one by: smilingbuckley "chimney pretends to be buck’s boyfriend to get a guy to back off. eddie doesn't like it." word count: 2.5k important tags: crack, fake dating, platonic kissing, pre-relationship, first kiss, love confessions, fluff, angst tryna find my way back to you (cause i'm needing a little bit of love) by: mumucow_xD "when buck joins the 126 team for a whole month and eddie didn't expect it to awake something in him" word count: 45k important tags: whump, minor angst, feelings realisation, drunken confessions pining from the passenger seat by: orphan_account "eddie pines from the passenger seat" word count: 5.4k important tags: pining, soft!buddie, getting together, first kiss baby i can ease the ache (let me give your heart a break) by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck wants to date natalia, eddie wants to die, chimney and maddie are very good at motivational speeches and buck is not as oblivious as people make him out to be." word count: 4.6k important tags: possessive!eddie diaz, first kiss, love confessions, getting together plus or minus by: elvensorceress "taylor is offered a job across the country and asks buck to go with her. buck has to figure out if he wants to start over or if he has a reason to stay right where he is." word count: 10k important tags: idiots in love, oblivious, getting together, soft!buddie, love confessions, mutual pining waiting on a distant feeling by: justhockey "five times eddie thought he was homophobic, and the one time he realised he was just jealous." word count: 5.9k important tags: 5+1 things, idiots in love, getting together, oblivious!eddie diaz, mutual pining, fluff, angst

[laenordeservedbetter]

For Sam x reader.

Ghostface is back and had followed the Carpenters, the twins, and Amber's older sister, Reader, to New York. No one trusting her because of the fact that her little sister was Ghostface, Reader is in disbelief, and Sam breaks up with her on the spot. Fast forward to the end, where Ghostface is dead, everyone's being treated by paramedics, Reader is seen walking away from the scene alone. Kirby asks where she is, Sam then sees her walking away, holding her broken arm to her body, and runs after her and apologies for not trusting and believing her. (Reader saying it's too late for sam to apologize. She then walks away from her friends, from Sam.)

You're Somebody Else

Words: 1.4k

Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Freeman!Reader

Synopsis: You were told that the biggest betrayal comes from the people you care about the most, but never did you expect it to hurt so much.

Warnings: scream vi spoilers, violence, spitting, cussing, angst, no happy ending. lmk if I missed any.

A/N: I wrote this at a coffee shop. I'm still here rn, so we'll see how many fics I can post before I go home. (This will probably be the only one)

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

You stood before Amber’s Ghostface outfit, reaching out to touch the fabric before you remembered where you were -- who you’re with. The glares given to you by the rest of the group burned at the back of your skull. You can practically sense their judgments. Since the first Ghostface attack in New York, they pointed their fingers at you. You understood, given what you've all been through. Can't be too careful. You didn’t care that you saw the contempt on your own girlfriend’s face. You stayed by her side, understanding where she was coming from.

Being related to a previous Ghostface was something you and Sam had in common. When you are linked to a person with that track record, it sticks with you even if you are different from them. Trust becomes hard to give. And out of everyone, you figured your girlfriend is the one who understood the most about what it’s like. However, it looks like the sentiment isn’t shared.

She approaches you, getting the courage to ask, “Can we talk?”

You can tell what’s about to happen before Sam can utter what she wants to say to you.

Nothing good ever comes out of conversations like these.

“I’m sorry.” Sam stares, her gaze cold, nothing like the Sam you fell in love with. With each deafening step she takes away from you, your heart shatters just a little bit more. You are wounded by the way she’s looking at you. Any wound or injury you might sustain in the next few minutes will not compare to the poison laced in the invisible knife held against your throat by the woman you love. “I can’t take any more chances. I can’t trust you. We’re done.”

You scoff, glancing towards the group in hopes that they would back up your claim. “Sam, you know me. I would never hurt you or Tara or. . . Anika.”

Mindy flinches at the mention of her girlfriend’s name. Her stare hardens. “You have no right to say her name. We know you did it. You killed her.”

“Mindy…” Your voice breaks as your throat feels like it’s closing up. You can’t do anything to convince them, letting the stream of tears flow from your eyes. No one came to your rescue to prove your innocence. None of them trusted you. You felt pathetic, humiliated, embarrassed. Your eyes settle on Sam again. “Really? After everything we’ve been through together, you-”

Sam glowers. “It’s over, Y/n. Please, stay away from us.”

“Fuck you.” You turn your back, the hurt in your tone clear as day. “I don’t know you at all.”

“Maybe we didn’t know each other as well as we thought.”

It was one thing for you to walk away and another knowing that Sam would not be going after you.

-

“It was easy luring you away from the group. Guess we really can’t choose our family, huh?” Ghostface makes a tsk sound, the voice changer turned off.

He takes a step forward, but you stay positioned adjacent to the wall. That voice…

“Ethan?”

Ethan removes his mask, holding the voice changer to his lips, “Didn’t expect that?”

Of course it was him. Little by little, the pieces fall into place. The apartment attack -- that was probably Ethan. He wasn’t with the group. Not even the skeptic Mindy questioned his whereabouts. Your tears haven’t dried yet and you were as sure as hell they weren’t going to stop now. You bring your hands together in a slow clap. “Oh, wow, that’s… Fucking brilliant, actually.” Clutching your stomach, you let out what sounded like a painful cackle. “This is the part where I die.” You say. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.

“Oh no, no, no. See, that’s where you’re wrong.” Ethan smirks, gripping your left arm, applying pressure to where you had been previously injured a couple nights prior. “You are our scapegoat. I must give credit to Mindy for the idea. You have the perfect motive to be Ghostface! It was just gonna be Sam, but… The press would go crazier if it was a Bonnie & Clyde situation. Not that I care about that sorta stuff. It just works.”

You collect the saliva from your mouth, spitting in his eye. “Jokes on you ‘cause we’re not together anymore.”

“But they wouldn’t know that because by the time you get ‘caught’, all of your friends will be dead and you would look like the asshole trying to save yourself if you attempt to say the truth.”

Ethan places his free hand on your shoulder, pulling your arm with more force than necessary to guarantee that it would break. You stand there, biting your lip in order to hide the pain. If I screamed, it wouldn’t make a difference anyway, you said to yourself bitterly. There’s not a single person who’d give me the benefit of the doubt. In fact, they’d make me suffer worse, believing that Ethan did the right thing. Who knows what creative scenarios he came up with already.

-

The paramedics found you slumped down beside a row of chairs after Sam and the rest of the group defeated the three Ghostfaces. They wondered why you weren’t with the others, but with a quick word from Kirby, they left you alone, guiding you outside to treat your broken arm. One of the paramedics - Theo (that’s what you heard Kirby call him) asked if you wanted a ride to the hospital. You declined, insisting that you could get there yourself without anyone’s help.

You spare Sam a glance, observing her interact with Mindy, Chad, and Tara. Core Four. Good for them. Although you were glad that they are are still extant, you can’t stop the rancor that you feel as you stare at the four. You want nothing more than for this day to be over, move to someplace else, maybe change your name. Anywhere is better than here. It’s become clear to you how unwanted you are in New York. A change of scenery might do you good.

Kirby (the only person who hasn’t treated you like scum) situates herself in front of Sam, “Hey, where’s Y/n?”

Sam only notices your absence when Kirby pointed it out. “Shit. I…” She scans the area in search of your familiar eyes, guilt eating at her knowing that she accused you of being a killer. Because of that, you got hurt. She’d never forgive herself for it. “I'll be right back.”

The blonde detective nods in understanding. “I’ll stay with Tara.”

“Thank you.”

You were on your way to the hospital when a hand grasps your injured arm. Recoiling from the touch, you look back to curse the one responsible for hurting your limb only to meet Sam’s pleading gaze. “What do you want, Samantha?”

“Y/n, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for being careless, for not trusting or believing you. If I had, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” Sam touches your good shoulder this time, expressing her genuine apology.

But no matter how many ‘I’m sorry’s’ she will direct at you, it won’t take away what’s been done. “It’s too late, Sam.”

“What? No. We can try again.” She pleads desperately.

You couldn’t bite back the words the words that are on the tip of your tongue, feeling the last ounce of self control fray away. “Try again? Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds? You broke up with me because you didn’t trust me. You didn’t even try to understand my side!” The news reporters turned their heads at your outburst. They point their cameras to you, but you don’t make an effort to cut off your ebullition short. “All of you pointed your hands at me because what? I’m the sister of a killer?! If we’re basing our suspicions of all the Ghostface’s relatives, you should’ve been on the top of the list. The only thing I asked was for you to stand by me and you failed. So, no, we can’t try again. We’ll only end up worse than where we left off.” You finish, walking away from everything (not for the first time). “I’ll get my things out of your apartment tonight. After that, you won’t have to see me again.”

Sam stays still while you leave, clutching your arm in the process. That limb will heal, but the words that Sam has spoken won’t. There will remain a constant reminder of how you were betrayed by those you would give everything for.

So much for trust.

[halstudandruz]

Thigh or Nothing

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Matt Casey x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Months after your breakup Matt loses his cool

Warnings: smut (18+), thigh riding, jealous!Matt, edging, swearing

A/N: Continuing to live in my happy world where all my boys are alive and still in Chicago 🫶

“I’m sorry, [Y/N]. We did all we could.” Connor broke the news to you and you could almost feel your heart breaking into two.

“Thanks Connor. I know you did.” You sighed, he gave you a sympathetic nod, picking three beer bottles up and heading back towards his table.

It was the cherry on top of your week. Which was without question the worst since you had become a paramedic 6 years prior. You shouldn’t have asked, you're not supposed to ask and how you felt right this second made the reason clear. Like your entire job was a waste. Which deep down obviously wasn’t true. The lives you saved had outweighed the lives lost, but that fact didn’t always matter. Not when you gave your blood, sweat, and tears to save a child who they would only end up losing on the table hours later. The less you knew of the outcome the better, you could at least pretend they all had a happy ending then. You were glad your partner hadn’t come out tonight. At least then she could live in the dark of the truth, one that you would never tell her. Swallowing the lump in your throat you gestured for Stella who was filling a glass with beer. She handed the beverage to a man at the other end of the bar making her way towards you.

“Can I get a shot? Surprise me, something strong.” You requested just as a body slid into the chair next to you. The only seat still available at the bar. Glancing to your left your stomach only tightened.

“Hey.” Your ex boyfriend gave you a genuine smile hanging his coat on the back of the stool.

“Well if it isn’t Matthew Casey.” The blonde to his left interrupted before you could answer. His attention quickly turned to a girl you recognized from the State Attorney’s office. How you didn’t realize she was sitting there before was beyond you. You had loathed her from the moment she tried to entice Matt into getting a drink when you were out of town after him and Severide had helped them with a case.

“Kaylee, hey how are you?” Matt greeted, and you could see the minute she turned her charm on, turning her body to face him, chest popping out slightly, eyelashes fluttering, and a soft smirk appearing on her lips. You would venture a guess that she had heard about your breakup somehow, not that she cared if he was in a relationship before. Stella appeared back in front of you.

“Yeah, make that two.” You sighed downing the tequila.

“[Y/N].” Stella warned glancing over to Matt and Kaylee who were now laughing. She was your best friend which meant she was also in charge of nixing your bad decisions when it was warranted.

“Just one more.” You looked at her pleading, she knew what a rough week it had been and you knew she was looking out for you but right now you didn’t care. She shook her head grabbing a bottle to fill the shot glass in front of you. “Thank you.” You nodded after feeling the burn down your throat a second time. You could feel Matt’s side eye and chose to ignore it for the better.

Thirty minutes later the shots were beginning to buzz in your bones only furthering your irritation when you watched Kaylee lean whispering into Matt’s ear.

“Hey.” A voice over your shoulder caused you to jump.

“What’s up?” You forced a smile at Severide. You and Severide had become close friends throughout the years mostly due to the grief of losing your partner and his best friend, sticking by each other’s sides through the thick of it, always having him nearby was a comfort.

“Just wanted to check in on you.” He sat down in the seat beside you that had been vacated 10 minutes ago. The one you were about to move to hoping it would lessen your ability of hearing Kaylee’s dare you say pathetic flirting.

“Yeah, I’m good!” You nodded, high pitched voice a little excessive. Were you coping super well? Not exactly. Trying to dissociate tragedies was supposed to come natural to you, just like everyone else in the firehouse and normally you could maybe, but Chicago seemed to implode this week and despite all your best efforts you were fighting a losing battle on almost all occasions. That’s the reason you asked Connor about the little boy from this morning expecting a good report and your spirits to be raised only to be shocked at the truth.

“Mhmm,” he raised an eyebrow glancing over your shoulder at his best friend’s back, “I’m sure that’s true.”

“It’s just like.. does he have to do it right here.” You rolled your eyes, whispering to Kelly, for no good reason since Matt was clearly so enthralled in conversation he wouldn’t have heard you anyway.

“Payback is a bitch, [Y/L/N].” Kelly chuckled, eliciting confusion to appear on your face.

“What does that even mean?” You tried to take a drink before realizing your glass had nothing but ice left, “Gallo,” you summed the dark haired man over holding your drink up.

“You know, [Y/N], I get off early tonight.” Gallo filled your glass wiggling his eyebrows which earned a laugh from Severide. Blake was cute, adorable actually. The kind of guy that would fall at a woman’s feet, make her wonder why she ever spent her life with any other loser. Not someone you wasted a quick hookup on, and right now that’s all you wanted.

“Yeah buddy, see how well that plays out for you.” Severide wore a smug grin, which annoyed you just because he was skilled at getting girls in bed with him didn’t mean he could make fun of the poor kid.

“Ritter gonna be out tonight? Cause I tend to get loud.” You lowered your voice head cocking to the side, a flirty grin appearing on your face, instantly causing redness to form around Blake’s cheeks as he slid the newly filled glass towards you.

“God knows that’s the truth.” Severide huffed, taking a drink of his beer, and your head whipped to him, a scowl appearing.

“Oh fuck you, I had to deal with your hookups on god knows what surfaces for practically a year straight so hush,” You shoved him, you and Matt hadn’t exactly lived together, but you might as well have. You stayed with him practically every night off and since Severide was his roommate he may have been unfortunate enough to be subjected to your pleasure induced sounds every once in a while. “And don’t act like you didn’t like it.” You teased.

Gallo coughed around the drink of water he had just taken, obviously taken back.

You had considered continuing the charade until you heard Kaylee ask Matt if his place was close. Stomach clenching at the words you moved quickly to take a drink, too quickly apparently as the drink ended up in Matt’s lap instead of in your mouth.

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry!” Heat immediately surfaced on your face. You truly didn’t mean to knock your full glass into Matt’s lap. The adrenaline from your jealousy mixed with everything else that week had you completely flustered and the cup slipped right out of your hand, but you knew from the outside looking in it would never look that way.

You could hear Kaylee scoff, looking up to see her roll her eyes dramatically. “Matt I didn’t-“ You flushed taking a single napkin trying and failing to help the mess at all.

“[Y/N], it’s fine. I just..I’ll be back.” He waved you off, stepping towards the bathroom.

“That was convenient.” Kaylee commented harshly, taking a sip of her martini.

“Believe me you don’t want to go there tod-“ You began to stand up, but beside you Kelly squeezed your knee keeping you put.

“Hey, it's not worth it. Trust me.” He encouraged, prompting you to shut up. Was it a good idea to get into a cat fight with an attorney? Probably not, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t tempting.

“Yeah, thanks. I’m going to go check on Casey.” You patted him on the shoulder heading towards the bathroom, throwing the blonde a glare.

“Matt?” You knocked on the door as a warning before pushing it open. The hand dryer on the wall was loudly whirring as he stood underneath it, the handle pointed at his crotch as best as it could be.

“I’m not mad,” he started the minute you appeared in front of the door, “I know you’ve had a rough week and don’t like her and you have every right not to, but-“ at his words your jaw almost dropped to the ground cutting him off.

“You’re not actually implying I did that on purpose.” You scoffed in disbelief, he knew you better than that.

“What am I supposed to think? It was pretty convenient timing, and I watched you down two shots the moment she started talking to me.” He laid his line of thinking out, and it was fair. Did you love seeing Kaylee flirt with him? Not for a single second. Were you trying to get trashed tonight? Absolutely. But regardless you would never do that to him.

“Fuck you, Matt. We both know we do what we need to in order to get through some weeks and sometimes that includes alcohol.” You defended, your face was beginning to heat up in anger at the accusation escalating. Not to mention you were far from drunk.

“Does that include hooking up with your superiors?” He quipped, making your heart drop at the realization he knew what the last few months held for you after your split.

“How do you know about that?” Panic took hold of your chest. Nobody was supposed to know, it could be really bad for both of you if anyone had found out about you and Hawkins.

“I have my sources.” He blew you off, once again hitting the hand dryer on the wall aiming his other thigh at it now. You weren’t dumb you knew exactly who his sources were, and Stella was gonna get an ear full later. She should know full well that anything that goes into her boyfriend’s ears will undoubtedly be in his best friend’s soon after. You and Kelly might’ve been close but he had an obvious loyalty to his partner in crime, “I’m just saying I haven’t felt the need to cause drama anytime you’ve left with Evan or your pick of the night.” His voice was raised even as the dryer dwindled to a stop.

“So, you’re slut shaming me now then? Is that what we’re doing?” You crossed your arms against your chest getting defensive

“Oh, come on [Y/N]. You know I’d never do that. Have all the sex you want, with whoever you want. It’s none of my business. I’d just request that you don’t let your ego cockblock me next time I’m trying to do the same.” He bit back. You knew he was right. He would never actually slut shame you and the accusation was a low blow, but the alcohol was causing annoyance to course throughout your body. Only heightened the second you watched him lean closer to the attorney.

“My ego? Really?” You laughed, humorously.

“Yes, your ego. You were jealous. Go ahead and admit it,” he encouraged and you rolled your eyes refusing to do as he asked, “you think I like watching you leave here with guys wrapped around your finger? I don’t at all, but at least I can admit it.” He took a paper towel from the dispenser. You had no idea why he was furiously dabbing at the mess, it was pretty clear the wreckage was cleaned as much as it possibly could be.

“This is ridiculous.” You huffed, the conversation was going absolutely nowhere. On a normal everyday basis you and Matt had been pretty good at putting your breakup on the back burner. Having to work with each other wasn’t always easy, but you both were handling it well with dignity and respect. Tonight, on the other hand, was different. Tempers were beginning to flare, and filters were flying out the window. All you were trying to do was offer him a genuine apology, but all you were getting in return was underhanded comments. “The only thing I came in here to do was take responsibility and apologize for an accident. I don’t know what your problem is.” You did not foresee this turning into a fight when you got up.

“You are!” He exclaimed, jaw tightening.

“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Your emotions were beginning to boil. This made sense though. Your split was pretty amicable. Too afraid to say something and regret it later. Only having to face it every other day for the rest of your life, but maybe you were being too cautious. Maybe things needed to be said. Maybe mistakes needed to be made.

“You are,” he reiterated, stepping closer to you finally lowering his voice, “do you know how goddamn hard it’s been to see you leave here every week with a different guy? To hear that you’re fucking Hawkins when you’re all that’s still on my mind?” His voice was quivering and it took you a minute to adjust to the sudden change in tension. Surprised at his admission. You had never seen Matt like this. Even when you were together if someone had hit on you or overstepped their bounds he would kindly and calmly inform them that you were taken. Just as you would expect Matt Casey to. But this was something else. Months of built up jealousy, unable to do or say anything about it apparently taking a toll. His hand was gripping the sink so hard his knuckles were pure white, an anguished look in his eyes as he thought about it, and it was undeniably sexy. “I know that I have no right, but good lord, [Y/N]. It is slowly kill-“ You couldn’t even allow him to say another word. You were certain if you didn’t get your hands on him within the second you were going to burst into flames, gripping his face tightly, quickly molding his lips to yours. The rhythm was quick to find, familiarity not too far gone.

It didn't take Matt very long to take advantage of the kiss, pushing you back a few steps against the nearest wall, forcing his tongue into your mouth. Your hand found its way to the hair at the back of his neck threading your fingers through it. It was intense, fire quickly spreading through your body, slotting your hips against his leg, hips moving in desperation.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate. Like you haven’t been fucked right in months.” Matt’s hand rested on your ass encouraging the movement, lips moving down your neck.

It was true. Right after you and Matt had broken up you began frequenting bars, joining hookup apps, going home with a different guy multiple times a week. The problem was nobody matched up to him. There were some decent ones and some really sucky ones too, only concerned about how fast they could get there, skipping foreplay almost entirely, but no matter what without fail it always ended with you craving your ex. The only one to even slightly quench your thirst was your boss, Evan Hawkins so an occasional hookup may or may not have happened. What Matt clearly didn’t know is the agreement you two had, had recently come to an end after learning of a friend’s interest in the Chief. Leading to those hookups to become extinct over a month ago. So, whatever he was offering you were willing to take it without hesitation.

His teeth nipping at your collarbone only furthered your need allowing him to push you down harder on his leg. Leaning closer into him you took ahold of his hand that was gripping your hip trying to move it under your skirt.

“Uh uh uh,” He resisted, “it’s my thigh or nothing, baby.” He wore a cocky smirk, only growing the second you whined a quiet,

“Matt.” A defeated, pleading look appearing in your eyes. While his attitude was angering you slightly, only wanting to reach a high right this second, and you had no doubt his fingers could do exactly that, you couldn't deny how hot this was and how his ultimatum only furthered the wetness building between your legs.

“Show me how bad you need it, princess, but try not to be too loud there is an entire bar of our coworkers 50 feet away.” His thigh tightened as if he was wanting you to go against his warning, a strangled moan on the tip of your tongue, body getting as close to you as he possibly could so his smell engulfed you, a smell you missed having wrapped around you more than you thought.

You whimpered into his neck pushing your hips down harder, and you could feel him steadily growing against your hip. “You’re so beautiful you know that?” He complimented both hands moving to your ass encouraging you to speed up your movements, the friction from the denim winding a coil in your stomach. Your fingers clawed at his biceps looking for as much contact as possible. Head falling back against the wall, your eyes closing tightly, your breathing was starting to speed up shakily with every grind of your hips.

“Matt, I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if it’s enough.” You admitted, the knot growing but only torturing you as you continued to rut against his leg, needy whimpers spilling from your mouth.

“Yes, you can. I know you can. You want me so bad? Make a mess on me first. Be a good girl.” Matt encouraged flexing the muscle in his thigh once again, dragging his teeth down the side of your throat stopping to bite behind your ear, one hand coming up to tweak your hardened nipple over your top and you finally snapped, a breathless moan falling from your lips as Matt helped work you through your high.

“Good thing you already fucked up my pants earlier or else I’d be pretty concerned about the mess you're leaving behind right now. Your panties are going to be ruined.” He wasn’t kidding, there was absolutely zero doubt he would have evidence of this encounter on his thigh if you stepped off right now. He was however wrong about one thing.

“Not wearing any.” You shrugged, letting your leg fall shakily from Matt’s hip.

“For fucks sake.” He groaned pupils flashing even darker, roughly gripping the back of your neck and pulling your lips back to his for a sloppy kiss.

“Yours? It’s closer.” You mumbled into his neck after pulling away to get a breath, biting it playfully. Nodding he stepped back to pull his phone out of his pocket to reserve an Uber and unsurprisingly there was indeed a dark spot staining his jeans, but all you were focused on was the bulge to the right of it, mouth watering contemplating dropping to your knees right there, missing the weight of his cock on your tongue, when he grabbed your hand.

“We’ll go out the back.” He gave you a quick kiss, opening the door to check for anyone before sneaking through the kitchen out into the cold, a car pulling up to the curb just as you made it around the building.

The minute you were in the Uber your mouth was back on his.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’m gonna need an address confirmation before you suck all the air outta his lungs, honey.” A nice older woman, joked from the driver's seat. Blushing you mumbled an apology putting some space between you two. Matt chuckled in amusement, confirming the address on the screen.

“Probably get a lot of this, this time of night huh?” Matt began a conversation hand resting teasingly high on your thigh.

“Absolutely, but I don’t mind. It’s nice to see young people having fun. It’s cliche but you really do only live once and y’all are in your prime years. They go faster than you think. So, as long as everyone is being safe and aren’t actually doing anything disrespectful in my backseat I don’t mind.” She smiled, kindly. The conversation continued for the remaining 5 minutes until she pulled in front of Matt’s apartment building. “Have a good night you two. Be safe.” She winked. Giggling you got out thanking her, approving of Matt’s 5 star review and generous tip once you made it in the elevator. Your hand was clasped in his, thighs involuntarily rubbing together at the tension, having to behave with all your might thanks to the elderly couple who accompanied you.

As soon as the door to his apartment was closed and your shoes were discarded his mouth was back on yours, stealing your breath at the need he conveyed. Untucking your top from the skirt it was discarded on the hardwood, tapping your thighs you took the hint allowing him to wrap your legs around him walking you to his bedroom. It had been the first time you had been back in the apartment since the breakup. Heart aching as your mind flashbacked to Matt swallowing harshly, blinking back his tears, in an attempt to put on a strong front as you walked out.

Luckily, you were quickly teleported back to the present once your back hit his bed, allowing him to pull his shirt off in one movement.

You would never not stare, never could not stare at a shirtless Matt Casey. You had made it a point not to be near him in the locker room recently because it just was not a power you possessed. Not sure how it was a power anyone could possess as your eyes raked over his broad chest, his forearms and hands causing your hips to wiggle slightly. He didn’t let you gaze long though, bending to attack your bare chest. Hand moving between your thighs to learn you weren’t lying earlier, a groan escaping him at the finding. His lips laid kisses all over your breasts, fingers moving to trail down your slit hips immediately jumping.

“So needy.” His free hand squeezed your hip forcing it down, just as he pressed a finger in slowly you let out a deep sigh. It wasn’t enough, you needed more immediately.

“More..” You requested as he curled his finger just right putting more pressure against your waist when your pelvis fought to jerk forward. Obliging, he added a second finger increasing the speed. Your body was begging you to work for it, wanting to rock your hips down to ride his hand but his strong hold was preventing it. A groan fell from your lips the minute his thumb met your clit rubbing soft circles.

“You wanna come on my fingers?” He whispered in your ear, biting it softly. You were breathing heavily, quickly nodding your head yes in response. Your walls clenching when he crooked his fingers once again, so damn close, when he pulled away from you.

“Matt, what the fuck?” You whimpered, squirming under his lustful gaze.

“I don’t think you’re ready yet.” He brushed you off, but the glint in his eye proved how much he enjoyed this and it was clear you were in for a long night, leaning forward he pulled your last piece of clothing down your legs roughly tugging you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, ending on his knees between your legs, and it was a sight to behold. One of your favorites if you were being honest. You were taken back at the lack of teasing the minute Matt shoved his mouth into your pussy, tongue darting out to lick your clit, a wail echoing from your lips, “You taste so damn good, forever my favorite meal, baby.” He praised nipping the sides of your thighs when his finger circled your entrance once again filling you. You directed all your focus towards keeping quiet as the knot grew tighter with every movement, hoping if you didn’t give him any sign of how close you were you could trick him into letting you come, hands twisted tight in the sheets when he sucked your clit finger curling to hit your sweet spot, but at the last second he pulled away, ripping you back from the brink once again.

“Fuck!” You huffed, hand punching the sheets, Matt chuckled above you,

“You’re so cute thinking I don’t know your body like the back of my hand.” And okay while this sucked, cocky Matt was intoxicating.

He edged you three more times and you were so wound up you feared the second he got in you, you would burst. You were physically panting, tears covering the sheets under your head.

“Matt-please. I’ll fucking call Hawkins right now.” You bargained, and despite the jealously that flashed deeper on his face he grinned smugly.

“You think threatening me right now is a good idea?” His eyebrow raised.

“I don’t know! I just need something, anything please.” Your thighs squeezed together begging for friction. Your eyes traveled down the man’s body, hardness in his jeans more than evident and you reached out towards him, missing the feeling of him in your hand, getting to watch his face scrunch in pleasure with just a flick of your wrist, but he caught your hand.

“Tonight’s about you baby, and making you wonder why you’d ever want someone else to put their dick in you.” He winked, his words actually surprised you. He was never this territorial over you, but it lit an even bigger fire inside of you. “Tell me what you want.” He ordered hands resting against the edge of the bed.

“You, right now. Anyway you’ll give it to me.” You wasted no time in answering, batting your eyelashes.

Smiling he finally pulled his jeans and boxers down allowing the bulge in his pants room breathe, tip red and dripping, moving to hover on top of you, he teased his cock through your wetness appreciating the way your cheeks flushed, his pupils dark not allowing you much time to drool, “Condom?” He asked, seemingly forgetting until this point not used to having to use them with you since you were on birth control, “I’m sure Severide has some.” You could see the hurt in his eyes from having to ask, and it made your heart ache in turn, but you shook your head,

“I’ve made everyone else wear one.” You explained, hooking your legs around his hips and his relief was obvious.

“Ready?” He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, a welcoming softness in a tension filled room.

“God, yes.” You wiggled your hips attempting to angle him in.

At the confirmation Matt thrusted deep into you pulling a gasp out of you at the roughness. You could vividly remember the first time Matt and you had sex. Gentle, intimate, loving after years of longing and avoiding the inevitable between you two. Completely different than right now. You wouldn’t be surprised if tomorrow you found marks from the Captain’s fingers around your hips pulling you towards him feverishly, everytime his dick thrusted forward into you, and it was exactly what you needed. It took a whole two seconds for you to fill the room with moans, allowing him to manhandle you from the start. He maneuvered your legs from his hips to his shoulders enabling him to go deeper, screaming when he thrusted his hips the perfect way, “Matt-oh my god,“ your body was tightening embarrassingly fast.

“Yeah, baby?” He gritted, and you were extremely impressed at how well he was keeping his composure tonight.

“You’re so fucking good.” You complimented through ragged breaths, eyes tightly shutting at the growing pressure.

“Go and fuck whoever you want, but you’re always gonna end up back here, baby. Cause nobody can fuck this pussy better than me, huh? Tell me I’m right baby girl, you don’t come until you do.” He bargained, pulling out so just the tip was in you, slowing down his thrusts. You didn’t want to give in, to give him the satisfaction regardless of it being the truth, but based on how he was acting tonight you really believed if you didn’t confirm his suspicions he wouldn’t let you come, and you just might actually die if that was the case. Literally whining, tears springing to your eyes, your feet dug into his shoulders in an attempt to make him go deeper. So fucking close, your muscles hurt from the strain of being so tightly wound time and time again, “Sweetheart, I can come just like this right now if you want me to. Be like every other guy you’ve been with recently. Is that what you want?” His tone was dripping in arrogance and his shallow thrusts were successfully torturing you. How this side of him could be completely infuriating but completely erotic at the same time was beyond your comprehension at the moment. You had never been so distraught, allowing your pride to go out the window without a second thought.

“Matt-“ you felt the tears starting to run down your face, “please. It’s you- it’s yours. Need you, always need you. Please let me come.” Your breathing was ragged, hips doing their best to entice him closer, pull him in on their own accord.

“Good girl.” He praised leaning down to kiss the tears away softly, “you’re so damn pretty.” He smiled genuinely, studying your features.

“Fuck me, Captain.” You smirked, although enjoying the snippet of fluff. Laughing, Casey returned to his previous position.

“Remember you asked for it.” He teased throwing you a wink before flipping you over on your stomach, ramming into you harder this time. The bunch of nerves you had felt plenty of times tonight already quickly returning full force, Matt was finally starting to lose his cool, grunts falling from his lips.

“Fuck, [Y/N].” Looking over your shoulder you could see his eyes were between your legs intently watching where you two met, a sight you wish you had the ability to see.

“Matt-“ a broken sob fell from your lips, “so close.” You were attempting to move your hips with his but the brutal pace he had set was hard to match. He wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you up against his chest. Pressing the fingers from his right hand against your clit, rubbing soft circles.

“Go ahead, gorgeous.” He encouraged into your ear kissing the back of your neck, seconds later your body practically convulsed finally letting go, back arching off into his chest, a loud moan echoing in the room. Matt having to hold you up completely as you worked through your high. He followed soon after filling you with warmth every time his dick twitched. A feeling you missed more than you’d like to admit.

You lay in silence after collapsing on the mattress, legs shaking, Casey’s head dug into your neck trying to resurrect his breath, heart beating rapidly against your back. The intensity finally dwindling, causing an unwelcome sob to break out of you at the sudden change of environment. Matt’s head shot up at the sound.

“Hey hey hey, what’s wrong? I’m sorry, was it too much?” Matt’s body went rigid concern lighting his eyes, as he took your face between his hands.

“No, not at all. It was incredible. I’m sorry, I’m being ridiculous.” You tried to brush him off, a wet laugh coming out, attempting to get out from under him and off the bed.

“No, come here. Talk to me.” He repositioned you so you were now laying on top of him against his chest. Holding you tightly.

“It’s just…I’ve had the most terrible week. Truly awful and all I’ve wanted, all I’ve craved every single day was a Matthew Casey hug.” You sniffed, shaking your head embarrassingly. His arms tightened around you at your confession, dropping a kiss against your head, and the familiarity did exactly as you assumed it would, tension releasing from your body, relaxation taking over in its place.

“Baby, I’ll I’ve wanted to do this week is give you a hug. I’m right here. I’m always right here. No matter what, I’m yours, baby, and I will wait however long it takes for you to come back to me and realize that I’m the guy for you.” His hand was trailing soothingly up and down your back.

“I’m just scared, Matt.” You had never given him a true reason for leaving, claiming you just didn’t know if you felt right in a relationship at the time.

“Of what?” He asked.

“Having to watch you run into burning buildings has never been my favorite regardless of how good you look in bunker gear, but..after Otis it’s just been unbearable, and I just thought maybe if I broke it off it would get easier. It would just feel uneasy like with Kelly or Stella rather than crippling.” You explained, emotions getting the better of you as you thought back to losing Otis and having to watch Katie crumble.

Chloe had the same thoughts and luckily for Cruz she learned to accept it, but she also didn’t have to physically witness it. She didn’t have to worry every time Boden’s face ticked with concern when he didn’t like something. Didn’t have to count down the seconds waiting for him to reappear in the smoke when Boden pulled them. Didn’t have to beg your shaking hands to stay steady and focus on the patient when you heard an accidental pass alarm.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?” His voice was so calm, so full of sympathy.

“What were you gonna do, Matt?” He wasn’t going to stop being a firefighter and you’d never want him to.

“I don’t know.” He admitted, “Has it worked?” It was a question he didn’t want to ask, but one he needed an answer to.

“Far from it,” you shook your head swallowing more tears, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it, losing Otis, watching everyone fall apart maybe it’s something I need to talk to someone about, but regardless it’s just made me realize god forbid something did happen I’d be so pissed I didn’t spend everyday with you that I could. I love you with my entire being Matthew Casey, and I think it’s pretty clear that’ll never stop.” You finally looked up at him.

“This is the dick lust talking isn’t it?” He joked after a beat of silence allowing you to laugh, smacking him in the chest. “I promise I will do everything I can to always come out for you.” He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear closing his eyes to kiss you on the head.

“I think jealous Matt is my new favorite Matt.” You grinned eyes sparkling.

“Hawkins is just lucky his face is still intact.” He growled, only confirming your new opinion.

“I’m hungry.” You attempted to steer off the topic, accompanied by your stomach rumbling.

“We did put in quite a workout.” Matt joked kissing your cheek, “I can order some pizza let me just see if Severide is home.” He jumped up to put a pair of sweatpants on, throwing you a Chicago Fire sweatshirt of his basking in his scent overwhelming you.

“God bless him if he is.” You winced thinking back to his comment in the bar earlier. Throwing the piece of clothing on as Matt disappeared into the hallway.

Two minutes later the man in question appeared in your doorway, arms crossed against his chest, a cocky look on his face.

“You seriously need to learn these walls aren’t soundproof.” He quipped, forcing a blush on your cheeks.

“You know what? You had to have seen the trail of clothes when you got home you knew what you were getting into.” You defended, shrugging.

“I’m just kidding, I got home like two minutes ago. Figured I’d give you some time when neither of you happened to come back to the bar.” He laughed when you rolled your eyes, walking to sit on the bottom of the bed, “I’m sorry for telling him about Hawkins by the way. I was just trying to kick his ass into gear.”

“Alright, it’s ordered, 35 minutes.” Matt announced as he reappeared in the room, climbing back into his bed beside you pulling you into his side.

“Casey, your girl almost took down an attorney today. Who by the way wasn’t very happy when you never returned.”

It was a perfect end to a not so perfect week.

[miley1442111]

who did this to you?-a.hotchner

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a/n: i got nothin.

summary: aaron gets quite the surprise after a case

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: general criminal minds topics, reader is hurt, talk of death and hospitals, happy ending

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Everything was so loud. Everyone was in Aaron’s ear but he tuned them out, too busy looking for you to notice the congratulations from the fellow officers and FBI agents alike. 

Where did you go? 

----------------------------------

You stood in the ladies bathroom, the pain finally catching up with you as the tears started pouring. You’d go to the hospital once you got back to Quantico. You knew you had multiple broken ribs, every breath becoming more and more difficult to take. You knew everyone would question your broken and bleeding nose. You knew Aaron would look at you with that same disappointed look he seemingly exclusively gives you. You wanted to sob every time he looked at you like that. Like you were a waste of his time and efforts, a waste of resources, a waste of space. 

You whimpered as you tried to stop the bleeding in your nose, the pain making yur entire body feel boiling hot. 

Knock knock. 

Fuck. 

“Yeah?” you coughed out.

You heard a sigh of relief. “You’re alright,” Aaron stated, his previous anxiety falling away. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Y-yeah,” you moved to open the door, but you’d moved too abruptly and it caused a sharp, excruciating pain to shoot through your entire chest, rendering you breathless, and helpless against the uncontrollable whine that left your mouth. Aaron’s body tensed and he tried the door handle, locked.  

“Y/n? Open the door,” he demanded, panic running through his voice. “Right now.”

“N-no,” you sobbed into your hands, every breath becoming more and more difficult.

“Y/n you have to open the door for me, I can’t help you if you don’t open this door, honey.”

“No! Just go away,” you called back. “I don’t want you to look at me like that,” you grumbled and he stilled the fiddling with the door handle he was doing.

“Like what honey?”

“Like you think I’m a waste of your time and space. Like you know how awful of a person I am.”

Aaron’s heart broke. He had been trying to resist his feelings for you for weeks, so he’d become distant. He never thought he’d been this mean. 

“I don’t think that Y/n,” he said softly. “Now, please open this door so I can help you.”

He heard the lock unlock and that was all he needed. He pushed the door open and there you were. Broken, bleeding nose, holding your side in agony as you sobbed. He pulled you into his arms tentatively, careful of your pains, but he looked at you with all the care in the world. 

“Who did this to you?” He asked. 

“Aaron... you did,” you sniffled. Aaron thought back to the confrontation with the unsub. He had to shoot you. You were wearing a vest, but you fell backwards, back and down about three feet. The realisation dawned on him and horror filled his features. 

“I am so sorry,” he whispered into your hair as you cried into his chest. He pressed soft kisses to your head to try and calm you down. “Where does it hurt?” He asked.

“My ribs. Some of them are broken- I think. And m-my nose.” 

His heart squeezed again. He had hurt you. He had caused this to happen. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your hair, emotions overcoming him. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you whispered. 

“No it’s not. I hurt you.” 

“You did-it was- it’s alright,’ you stuttered, trying to make this easier for him. “I- Can we go outside to the paramedics?” You asked. “I can’t breathe.”

He nodded furiously and slung one of your arms over his shoulders and practically carried you to the ambulance. 

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As you got checked out they decided you probably had a concussion as well, and that they wanted to keep you in the hospital overnight. 

“Can I come with you?” He asked sheepishly as you were getting strapped into the gurney. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, exhaustion and pain clouding everything. You just wanted to sleep. You just wanted everything to go away. 

Aaron sat with you in the ambulance, holding your hand. He was there when you flatlined too, apparently one of your broken ribs pierced a lung. 

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The heart monitor was flat as the paramedic beside him sprung into action, shouting at the driver to speed up. You were hooked up to machines and you were gone. For a whole 4 minutes. You were gone. 

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Aaron sat by your bedside with your hand in his as he prayed to a god he didn’t even believe in. As he asked for you to live. As he asked for you to live, and not hate him. 

He watched as your hands twitched and pressed the call button. They removed the breathing tube. You were alive. 

You were alive. 

----------------------------------

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed. “I never thought… I didn’t think it would hurt you that badly. I didn’t think you’d fall back. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head in an attempt to make him stop apologising. 

“I love you,” he confessed. “I-I’m in love with you. A-and I thought it would be better to just… ignore it, and in turn, ignore you. I’m never disappointed in you. I think you’re amazing. Knowing that I’ll see you makes getting up every morning and going into that god-for-saken building worth it. Knowing that you’ll be there, it makes my life so much better. I’m so sorry that I ever made you feel like I didn’t like you, or that I didn’t value you. I do. I love you.”

You were wide-eyed and confused. You grabbed your phone to write out what you had to say, since you couldn’t talk. 

What the fuck?

Aaron laughed. “I love you.”

Aaron, you seriously did this when I can’t fucking talk and can barely move? 

He laughed harder and shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a fan of dramatics.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled all the same. 

Come here. 

You patted the bed beside you and he shook his head. 

“You need to rest-”

“Aaron!” Your voice sounded groggy and painful. 

He lay beside you, his arms perched carefully around you as you both fell back to sleep.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[the-ace-with-spades]

I know I wrote a firefighter!Bradley AU but what about an every aviator is a firefighter AU??

(I'm sorry, thinking of applying for an on-call FF role now that I'm moving near a fire station and it got me...)

Bradley as a legacy firefighter - Goose died on the job in a freak accident when he and Mav were barely starting, then Mav stuck and had a friendly rivalry with Ice around going up the ranks/getting experience in their firehouse (who first gets the engineer, lieutenant, who gets the extra high rescue training, etc), up until Ice went into the chief roles and Mav moved to captain a heavy rescue squad...

Bradley had been rejected from the local fire academy twice (because of Mav pulling the strings... Not that Ice was aware at the time, only found out when Bradley found out and exploded on them...), certified in a different fire department and after all came back when he had already been a lieutenant at that department.

All the WSOs are double-certified or AEMT/paramedics. Natasha is doing something badass as well, maybe helicopter rescue or maybe aerial firefighting in general?? Bob is definitely a specialist medic (in kinda like the Rapid Response Unit or Motorcycle Unit in the UK...)

When Bradley comes back, he is recruited as potential captain for the fire house Mav and Ice spent over twenty years in and where his dad's face and helmet is in the hall of the fallen. Mav conveniently accepts a promotion people have been trying to push him into for the past 5 or so years, becoming a battalion chief that has the office at that station and directly overlooks the station's captains... And does absolutely everything so Bradley is not deemed suitable because he doesn't want him to be a firefighter at all...

Enter Jake Seresin, the new recruit that screams trouble. He's entered the academy a few months before, at the age of thirty and after doing some other job (maybe ex-military? ex-cop?? ex-farmer?? Idk) and instantly has beef with Bradley, the legacy fire captain and firefighter since nineteen, Jake being the overconfident know-it-all...

Cue some dangerous situation happening because of Jake's overconfidence/recklessness and Bradley risking it all (and breaking protocol and getting himself in trouble) to save his ass.

And you know, Jake is still his annoying, mouthy self, but there's some respect there now. And maybe he overhears Mav chewing Bradley out (and maybe he hears a bit too much as well, finding the secret of Bradley's triple legacy).

And since then Jake kinda starts to listen and maybe Bradley is a bit soft and maybe because he sees himself from almost fifteen years ago in Jake or maybe because he's a little fond of him (or you know, attracted to him...), he starts getting him some off the job, extra one on one training.

And maybe Jake develops a bit of a crush on his (almost) captain as the time goes. Maybe he brings out Bradley out of his shell as well, gets him to relax and stop thinking about pleasing Mav and Ice's expectations. Maybe it integrates Bradley better with the team, maybe they listen to him better, etc.

Cue once again something happening - Jake's apartment burns down (to be cliché...) and Bradley is doing overtime in another station and is the one responding. There's no dramatic rescue or anything (Jake's already evacuated most of the building) but Jake has no place to stay and his whole family is in Texas so Bradley offers he can stay on his couch.

Obviously he does not end up on the couch but in the bedroom. You know, with Bradley, wearing Bradley's clothes (all his stuff burnt down...), in Bradley's bed...

(Jake's gotta have some firefighting backstory as well btw - maybe his dad was a firefighter as well but he never got to meet him, maybe he was a safe haven baby brought to a firehouse?? He just doesn't admit it until he and Bradley are already almost-kinda a thing)

(Also, Bradley calls Jake some variation of Texas, Cowboy, etc as nick name because I know fire guys would be dead set on mocking Jake being from the south and having an accent)

There'd also be some kind of big event/mass casualty/etc that makes Mav drive out with the responding team and he and Bradley end up going into action together and getting their beef settled...

[atimeofyourlife]

As soon as the team was asked for volunteers, Steve was the first to sign up. He usually hated working events, but this was different. This was the first event when they'd get to be themself. He'd been to pride only once before, getting dragged along with Robin the year before, and it had ended up being a world of discovery.

Sure, he couldn't be decked out in rainbows and flags, having to wear their EMT uniform. But their boss had approved pins and bracelets as long as it didn't interfere with the duty. So his uniform had their pronoun of the day pins (They/He), their updated name badge showing his choice of names (Steve/Evie), pins and bracelets of the trans, non-binary, genderfluid, and bi pride flags. And Robin had braided bi pride ribbons into his hair before he tied it back when getting ready. It was going to be a good day.

He was kept busy, like the rest of the first aid team. And being one of the highest trained on duty, one of two AEMTs and in training to become a paramedic, he was tending to deal with the worst injuries and illnesses, and having to triage for if anyone needed to be transferred to the hospital. Robin stopped by a few times, to check in, and to give them snacks. It helped break up the day as he wouldn't get a long break.

They'd had to spend some of the day hurrying around the site whenever the radio buzzed for first-aid assistance at various points around the site. He was making his way back to the first-aid tent after one call, when their eye was caught by the band on the second stage. In particular, the long-haired guitarist. Steve couldn't help watching them as he walked by, until he stumbled and nearly fell into someone. They shook their head, and dragged their eyes away to make his way back to the tent. He was there to do his job, not make eyes at a pretty guitarist. They tried to put it out of their mind, but he couldn't help looking out for the guitarist as the day passed. Not letting it get in the way of their job, but whenever they had a second free.

Late in the afternoon, they were alerted to a group of people making their way to the tent. Two guys supporting a third, with another guy ahead of them to clear the way. Steve pulled fresh gloves on and hurried down to help. As he reached the group, he realized that the guy being supported was the pretty guitarist. They tried to not think about it, needing to remain professional.

"What seems to be the problem?" Steve asked, swapping places with one of the guys supporting the guitarist.

"He nearly passed out on us." One of them responded.

"Right. Come on, we'll get you all checked out." Steve replied, guiding them into the tent.

"You can check me out anytime, sweetheart." The guitarist replied, leaving Steve fighting back a blush.

"Eddie, shut up." The guy in front snapped, before glancing at Steve. "Sorry about him."

"But he's pretty." The guitarist- Eddie- whined.

"Okay, just set him down here." Steve helped Eddie onto the bed at one end of the tent, before turning to the other guys. "Only one of you can stay in here with him because of the space, so if the other two can just wait outside?"

The other three guys looked between them, silently deciding that the shorter, curly haired guy would be the one to stay behind.

"Gare-bear, where they going?" Eddie asked.

"They're waiting outside for you, asshole."

Steve coughed a little to hide the laugh that threatened to burst out, the conversation reminding them too much of dealing with a drunk Robin, or worse, the kids while they were crossfaded for the first time.

"Okay, can I just pop this on your finger for a reading?" Steve asked, waiting for Eddie to hold his hand out so he could fix the pulse ox monitor. They then grabbed a clipboard and a blank paperwork sheet. "And while we wait for that, just a few questions. Can we start with your name?"

"Eddie Munson." The other guy, Gare? replied.

"You can take my last name, angel." Eddie said, which Steve ignored.

"Thank you, and the date of birth?"

The other guy reeled it off, as Steve wrote it down.

"And Gare, was it?"

"Gareth."

"Gareth, sorry. Can you tell me what, exactly, happened? The other guy said he nearly passed out?"

"Yeah. Uh, we were performing earlier. We're in a band. He was fine then. But in the last thirty minutes or so, he's been complaining about not feeling so good, and then he nearly passed out."

"Okay." Steve wrote down all the information, then copied down the numbers from the pulse ox. "I just need to get the rest of your vitals, okay, Eddie?"

"Anything you want. He's so beautiful, isn't he Gare?"

"Anything you say, Eds."

Steve set to taking the vitals, making sure everything was normal, but kept asking questions to get to the bottom of it.

"Any medical conditions?"

"No."

"Do you know if he's taken anything in the last twenty four hours? Any prescription meds, or over the counter, or any other substance?"

"Shhh. Gare, you can't tell him."

"Dude, I'm not a cop. I just need to know if it could be what you've taken, or so if you need any medication it won't react to it."

"He smokes, and we were smoking weed last night. But he smokes weed most weeks and has never reacted like this." Gareth explained.

"Uh-huh." Steve continued to make notes, both the answers to the questions and Eddie's vitals. "Any alcohol?"

"A couple of beers."

"When was the last time he ate?" Steve asked, frowning when they noticed that Eddie's blood sugar was on the low side.

"Wait, I think that was-" Gareth broke off for a moment. "Eddie, you certifiable moron."

"Not eaten much today?" Steve guessed.

"Not eaten at all today. He doesn't eat breakfast, ever, and he felt sick before we went on so he didn't eat lunch. And after he still didn't want anything."

"That pretty much explains everything. Plus drinking on an empty stomach is a recipe for disaster. I'll grab some water and something small so you'll feel less like passing out." Steve crossed the tent to find a bottle of water and the emergency snacks they kept, usually for diabetics.

"Here. Drink some water, and eat these. I know they're not the most exciting snacks, but you should feel better after." Steve handed it over to Eddie, a mini bag of fruit gummies, and a small pack of crackers.

Steve kept a check on Eddie as he ate the snacks. He seemed to be doing better, which put Steve's mind at ease. And kept trying to flirt, which left them fighting to remain professional.

"How are you feeling now, Eddie?" Steve asked after a few minutes, hoping that it wouldn't be too much longer before they could have a moment to freak out, preferably with Robin.

"Better. But you could make me feel incredible, big boy." Eddie said, a clear flirty tone in his voice.

"Not while I'm on duty," Steve replied slightly absently as he made a note on Eddie's sheet. Then, realizing what they'd said, fought to figure out how to backtrack without offending Eddie. "I mean, it's good that you're feeling better. I would recommend you try to get a balanced meal soon, something with carbs, protein, fibre, fats. That will help keep you feeling better, and keep you from feeling like you're going to pass out again. And it might be best if you stay off the alcohol for today."

"Does that mean- ow." Eddie started to ask something, but cut off. Steve looked up from the clipboard, and it was obvious that Gareth had elbowed Eddie to get him to shut up.

"This is your copy of the paperwork, it just has your vitals, and what's happened. If you still feel unwell later, and you need to come back here, or you seek medical attention somewhere else, you can show this, so whoever you see has some background for what has happened today." Steve explained, handing the sheet over to Eddie.

"Thanks," Eddie replied, starting to stand up.

"You're welcome, enjoy the rest of your day." Steve turned to start sanitising and packing away the equipment used, so the space would be tidy for the next person to need it. He could hear a brief, whispered conversation behind him, but ignored it. Until they felt a tap on their shoulder, and turned back to Eddie.

"For you," Eddie said, thrusting a small piece of paper into Steve's hands before leaving the tent with Gareth.

Steve unfolded it, and read the note. 'What about when you're off duty?' followed by a phone number. He blushed a little as he shoved it into his pocket. God, they needed to talk to Robin.

Later, once he was home, he finally had the chance. Not that she was much help.

"You're telling me you nearly fell over yourself because you were staring at this guy, kept looking out for him because you hoped to see him after, he shows up to the tent and is flirting with you, and gave you his number. And you haven't called him?"

"That is missing the point entirely? He wasn't well when he came to the tent, and it kinda feels like I was taking advantage of him to end up with his number after that. I should have given him to one of the others. I shouldn't have let him give me his number." Steve protested, feeling unsure if they had handled everything in the best way.

"You are the only person I have ever met who thinks that getting the number of someone you find attractive is somehow a bad thing. This is why you're still single."

Basically giving Steve my gender here. In this he's genderfluid and uses various combinations of They/He/She pronouns, depending on the day I was at pride today (well, yesterday as it's now after midnight here), and this idea came to me on the way home. Also, idk how first aid services at events work in the US, so this is vaguely based off what I know from what I've seen in the UK.

[kivino]

KIVI, YOU SWEET ANGEL YOU.

can you write a price x gn!paramedic!reader where price is on leave, and maybe he gets into a car accident that isn’t too bad so he refuses to go to the hospital, but the cute paramedic keeps insisting on at least checking him out in the ambulance……….. 😋

DOUBLE VISION || JOHN 'BRAVO 0-6' PRICE X PARAMEDIC!GN!READER

Word counter – ~1.9k

Tags/Warnings – mentions of car crash, intoxication, medical examinations, fluff, first meeting, and lack of medical professionalism, lmao.

A/n – PLSS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT POOKIE, IT TOOK ME A HOT MINUTE TO GET TO THE REQUEST I’M SORRY MWAH. also credits for the name go to @mockerycrow as well, they’re a genious and have the biggest brain out of the two of us.

ao3 link for this fic

It’s always a slow process for John - getting used to the slow, civilian ways when he finally gets his leaves approved. When he spends so much time on the field, more often than not he starts to forget about “the other side” of life. Lack of noise, mundane mornings, and silent nights come and with them, the all-encompassing feeling of loneliness starts to set in his gut. John gets reminded about the lack of anyone’s presence in his life. No one is waiting for him back home, and no one will probably be any time soon, with how work takes over most of his free time. And then the captain remembers he’s not getting any younger.

Of course, he had plenty of experience and relationships before, but none of them lasted until now when his hair was already graying and wrinkles were starting to riddle his face here and there. John wasn’t insecure about his age, no, because that would be foolish, really, rather it was the fact that he had no one to share with all the years that were ahead of him.

What John also had a hard time getting used to was driving the busy streets of London with its crazy drivers after months of not getting behind the wheel, which brings him to this moment. Well, it really was on him for trying to get somewhere after happy hour in all the pubs in the area ended, he should’ve probably anticipated some drunk idiot would want to drive back home today. John wasn’t in the right headspace at the moment to fill out all the paperwork and figure out who was in the wrong. His thoughts were far away from here. Probably all the impact from the airbag and the hit.

He’s had it worse before, of course, so some bruises and scratches here and there wasn’t something he couldn’t handle. John felt some pulsing pain in his knee, making it harder to stand upright, and a bit of an ache in his neck from the whiplash, but again, it wasn’t as bad as getting thrown into the wall by an explosion or falling out of a damn helicopter.

So now he has to spend the whole evening working out things with the police and that drunk idiot who bumped into him, freezing his ass off in the rain. Just perfect. John feels a surge of annoyance and exhaustion wash over him, he pinches his brow, letting out an impatient sigh. Cops have arrived on the scene already and started examining the two collided vehicles, after putting around some traffic cones so some other lucky fellas don’t decide to join in on the fun. From his spot on the sidewalk, John can also see the paramedics, who had to get involved because as soon as cops started questioning that drunk guy, he decided to scrunch into himself and show the world all the contents of his stomach. As if it needed to get even more complicated than it already was.

“Excuse me, sir? You’re the other…driver involved in the accident?” John suddenly hears a voice, a bit on the quiet side, which brings him out of his thoughts that involve strangling somebody in a variety of different ways. And oh, his nights instantly become tens, if not thousands of times better when he sees the owner of said voice.

Judging by the identifying markings you were a paramedic, and a very cute one at that, with your dull green uniform and a big jacket on, brows tied together in a concerned expression. Oh, and your eyes, they looked absolutely lovely in the low streetlights. Price is taken aback for the moment, forgetting every word in his vocabulary. He feels his heart starting to beat faster, blood flowing through his veins so fast he’s sure if it wasn’t for the evening darkness he’d most likely resemble a tomato. But then John realizes he must say something because just staring at you would just make him seem like some old creep. And he absolutely didn’t want that.

“Yes, that would be me.” He speaks up after clearing his throat. You nod to that, attentive gaze still on him. John then adds on after a short pause, which took him to let out a deep sigh. “You need me for anything?” Anything. Something. Please.

“Just checking up.” John feels his heart melt at that small smile that grazes your lips, making it obvious you’re satisfied with his answer. “You seem to be holding up better than the other driver.” You joke in an attempt to either lighten up the mood, which John appreciates, or to calm yourself a bit. It didn’t escape him how you seemed a little shaky. It was Friday night, so today’s shift might have been rough on you. Always the Friday nights.

“Well, anyone would hold up better than that bloke.” He jokes with a bit of abandon, a low chuckle escaping his lips, as he starts to overthink himself. John suddenly feels like a dumb teenager, which is never a good sign, especially when there is someone he’s interested in right in front of him. Price feels like his laugh is too rough, stance is too relaxed and everything is just a bit too much when your eyes are on him. Oh, he’s so going to embarrass himself.

“True, but let’s not tell him that.” You give a quiet laugh and John’s worries die down a little. Not completely, but enough to let his eyes get glued to your face. “How are you feeling? Is there any abnormal pain, anything unusual or out of the ordinary?” Oh, so you’re the type to get straight to business, huh? Interesting. Price liked that. “If there’s anything wrong we’ll get you right to the hospital.” Price declined when he got asked about the hospital before by another paramedic because there was no way he was going to spend even more time out of his house because of some minor scratches. But if it meant you’ll be there, he’s calling dibs on the seat beside you in the ambulance truck, dear lord.

“My knee’s complaining a bit, love.” John can see your eyes going as big as two shiny coins when you hear that pet name, which, to be fair, slipped out completely unintentionally. However, by the way you instantly light up in another shy smile, he can tell you don’t really mind it, so his nervousness caused by this… “happy accident”, comes down again. “Some bruises, but I’m not about to hold you up because of those.”

“Oh, well, that’s alright, come with me and I can check you out…” You stutter over your words while talking a bit too quickly and once you understand what you said, an annoyed groan comes out of you. Way to embarrass yourself. “I mean, check your knee out in the ambulance, alright?” You again shoot him a smile. Which probably is in vain, since he’s a patient at the moment, and you’re at work, and that’s very much frowned upon, but what can you do? You don’t meet a man like that everywhere. He looks a bit rough around the edges, but that’s part of the charm.

“I’m sure your hands are already full with that hero of the day over there, I’m good.” What. The fuck. Are you doing. John. The only chance he gets to talk to you and he’s blowing it, for fuck’s sake. He didn’t know why he said that. Maybe not to seem desperate in a very self-sabotaging way, but that’s just. Oh, John, you’re too old for playing some damn games with someone you like.

“You know what? I insist.” Your voice is lower and rougher. And when you top it off with another one of your sweet smiles and a gentle touch on his shoulder? John is a gone man. Turning into complete mush, putty, if you will. God, for this perfect smile he was ready to smash and repair every single house appliance and pipe in your house.

“Alright then. Anything for you, love, lead the way.” And you did, with your hand resting softly on his back, helping him forward. John wished you would’ve been bolder with your touch, so he could feel more than just a light graze, but still. It felt good.

And then he finds himself in the back of the ambulance truck, this cramped, tiny space making him hold his breath from being so goddamn nervous in your presence. You told him to take a seat while rummaging through some cabinets and various medical bags for something. Seemingly not finding anything that you needed you spoke up to him again.

“Okay, now let me see your knee, sir.” You mumbled while kneeling in front of him, your eyes concentrated on the man. He didn’t mind you calling him sir at all. John was so used to being called that, but right now it just spread that very pleasant warm feeling inside of him.

“Well, I’m not taking my pants off. Not without a dinner first.” Price chuckled, as he tried rolling up one of his pants legs. And, well, his statement wasn’t that far from the truth. The whole deal with examination was a bit awkward to begin with, so he didn’t want to make it even worse.

“I’ll think about it, big guy.” You chuckle, as you finally start looking at his knee, small, feather-light touches sending sparks over Price’s skin. So, you enjoyed teasing him like that, huh? In combination with that nice, sweet smile? Oh, John is sold. He definitely should you invite somewhere while he still has time on his leave. But before he can open his mouth to make a brave offer you speak up again. “Looks like you have a minor sprain in here, your knee’s all swollen. I’ll apply some elastic bandages, that you’re going to have to wear for some time and redo yourself. But overall you seem to be doing good” Price couldn’t help but feel like that last remark wasn’t about his health.

“Yeah. Yeah. That’s all fine with me, love. Do what you have to.” You only nod in response, spending some time rummaging in the cupboards once again and emerging victorious with a roll of elastic bandages in your hands. You return to your previous position in front of John, and adjust his knee with a firm hand, mumbling a quiet “Hold still, please”. Oh, he’d freeze for centuries if you had asked him to. But he does, and as you wrap the bandage around his knee, which just kept pulsing with hot pain, he couldn’t help but admire you. The trained movements, the concentrated gaze, the warm touch…Maybe he really should act on his thoughts. Maybe it’s his chance. Maybe something can work out and this accidental meeting will become…something more.

Price wanted it to become something more.

His imagination ran rampant, picturing you wearing something nice and fancy, in case you do agree on a date. John totally should not be thinking this when you were right there, finally putting some finishing touches on his knee bandaging, so he forced them out of his mind and cleared his throat. Here goes nothing. But before Price can even utter a single sound you’re already being called over by your colleague. Guess he’ll just have to wait until you’re free of your duties, huh?

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