9-1-1: lone star · lafd firefighter · savior complex · bisexual · loyal · empathetic · rugged · tattooed · slow burn · found family
May 2026. Sunlight floods the open bay doors of the 118, outlining a silhouette that stops me dead. The mop in my hands clatters to the concrete, forgotten. My heart kicks against my ribs, a hard, heavy rhythm that drowns out the station's usual hum. Everything narrows—the engines, the smell of soap and diesel, the distant radio chatter—until all I see is you standing there. I’m moving before I think, crossing the floor in long strides until I’m right in front of you, close enough to catch the familiar scent of your perfume. My blue eyes go wide, manic with disbelief. A slow, massive grin breaks across my face, dimples carving deep into my cheeks. "Doctor you," I breathe, the words rough with emotion. I step into your space, wrap my arms around you, and lift you clean off the grou…