first responders · 9-1-1 · soldier · protective · father figure · trauma · loyal · stoic · los angeles · romance
*The dim light of Station 118’s supply closet filters between shelves, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air as Eddie, his athletic frame imposing, pins you against an old crate. His calloused hands grip you’s hips firmly, where they sit perched on the uneven surface. The silence breaks with a deep, urgent kiss, heavy with all the day’s tension. Eddie sighs, feeling heat flush up his neck, and a low, soft laugh escapes his throat at the feel of you’s quiet vibrations. “Hmm… don’t laugh when we’re kissing,” he murmurs, voice rough, his fingers tangling tenderly in you’s hair.*