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Ashes

Autor: Faithuba
last update Última actualización: 2025-10-24 16:51:09

The warehouse was nothing but a skeleton now.

The fire had finally died, leaving behind a blackened frame and a sky choked with smoke. Dawn crept in slow and gray, bleeding weak light over the ash-covered ground. The air still smelled like burned wood, melted plastic, and something heavier — the weight of exhaustion after everything had burned.

The trucks sat idling, their engines a low, steady hum against the quiet. Water still dripped from the hoses, pooling on the pavement in dark streaks. Firefighters moved through the remains like ghosts, helmets tilted low, voices muted. They’d fought hard tonight. They’d contained the blaze. No casualties. A win on paper. But wins like this never felt clean.

She leaned against the back of the engine, helmet on the ground, gloves shoved into her belt. Her hair stuck to her neck, streaked with soot, sweat sliding down the hollow of her throat. Her body ached. Her lungs still tasted like smoke. Her pulse, though, was still wild — not just from the
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  • Forbidden Affairs    Ashes

    The warehouse was nothing but a skeleton now.The fire had finally died, leaving behind a blackened frame and a sky choked with smoke. Dawn crept in slow and gray, bleeding weak light over the ash-covered ground. The air still smelled like burned wood, melted plastic, and something heavier — the weight of exhaustion after everything had burned.The trucks sat idling, their engines a low, steady hum against the quiet. Water still dripped from the hoses, pooling on the pavement in dark streaks. Firefighters moved through the remains like ghosts, helmets tilted low, voices muted. They’d fought hard tonight. They’d contained the blaze. No casualties. A win on paper. But wins like this never felt clean.She leaned against the back of the engine, helmet on the ground, gloves shoved into her belt. Her hair stuck to her neck, streaked with soot, sweat sliding down the hollow of her throat. Her body ached. Her lungs still tasted like smoke. Her pulse, though, was still wild — not just from the

  • Forbidden Affairs    First on Scene

    The night sky was split open with flashing red lights.The truck roared through the empty streets, sirens screaming, wind hammering against the windows. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel it in her teeth. Calls like this always felt different. There was something sharper in the air when they were first on scene. Something that made every breath taste like metal.“Warehouse,” Beck shouted over the noise. “South end. Two alarms.”She nodded, adjusting the strap of her helmet, the weight of the turnout gear pressing into her shoulders. She could already smell it — that thick, unmistakable scent of burning wood and diesel. By the time they turned the corner, orange light was already crawling across the sky.Flames licked at the edges of the warehouse roof, smoke rolling upward in heavy black waves. They jumped out of the truck almost before it fully stopped. The sound was everywhere: the roar of the blaze, the hiss of water from the first line being pulled, the distant shouts of the

  • Forbidden Affairs    Fireproof Lust

    The storm came without warning.Rain hammered against the roof in heavy sheets, thunder cracked like an explosion in the distance, and somewhere down the line a transformer groaned under the pressure. The lights in the station flickered once, twice, then everything went black. For a few seconds, the only sound was the storm pounding outside and the low, nervous creak of the building breathing in the dark.“Shit,” someone muttered from the bunk room. “Power’s out.”Emergency lights flicked on after a moment, weak red strips lining the hallways like veins glowing in the dark. The storm had turned the station into something quieter, something sharper. Every sound echoed. Every movement felt closer.She slipped down the hall barefoot, the old floor cool under her feet. She hadn’t been able to sleep anyway, not with the heat still clinging to the night and the storm’s endless growl. She pulled her damp hair into a knot and pushed open the door to the gear room. The heavy scent of leather,

  • Forbidden Affairs    The Siren Call

    The station was alive with noise that night.The annual charity event brought a different kind of heat—one that wasn’t born from flames or sweat, but from the press of bodies, laughter, flashing lights, and the sound of music vibrating against the night. The firetrucks were lined in a perfect row, gleaming under the glow of string lights draped across the yard. The air smelled of grilled food, summer air, and just the faintest trace of smoke that seemed to cling to everything here.She had thrown on the off-duty T-shirt with the station logo and her black jeans, tying her hair up in a loose knot. The night was humid, but not unbearable like the last week’s heatwave. She didn’t want to be here. Not really. But charity events weren’t optional, and the chief made sure the entire crew showed up.The crowd swayed near the trucks. Kids climbed up the steps of the engine, their parents snapping pictures. Firefighters laughed, drank sodas, and leaned against their trucks like they owned the n

  • Forbidden Affairs    Heatwave

    The station had never felt this hot.The air hung thick and heavy, clinging to skin like a second layer. Fans spun uselessly in the corners, pushing the heat around but never breaking it. Even the concrete floor seemed to radiate warmth, trapping the day’s sun long after nightfall. Everyone moved slower, sweat dampening shirts, hair sticking to necks, tempers simmering beneath the surface.The heatwave had lasted a week already. No one slept properly. Tempers flared over small things—shifts, towels, coffee. They fought fires all day and came back to a building that felt like a furnace itself. Every inch of skin itched for cold air that never came.She peeled her shirt off as she pushed open the shower room door, her hair damp with sweat, her sports bra clinging uncomfortably tight to her ribs. The tiled room was dim, steam still curling from the last person who’d tried to cool off under lukewarm water. Her boots echoed faintly against the floor as she stepped inside. It smelled faintl

  • Forbidden Affairs    The Chief’s Office

    The station was silent again, that kind of heavy silence that only came just before dawn. The overhead lights were dimmed, the trucks gleaming softly in their bays, hoses coiled neatly on their racks, boots lined like soldiers against the walls. The world outside was still asleep, but inside the chief’s office, the air was thick and sharp with tension.She stood stiffly in front of the desk, her damp shirt clinging to her back, the hem of her jacket still streaked with soot. The alarm had gone off barely an hour ago, pulling everyone out to a small warehouse blaze. It wasn’t a complicated call, but it had been messy. She’d taken a risk—an unnecessary one—and the chief had seen it.He sat behind the desk, broad shoulders framed by the soft pool of yellow light from the lamp. His jacket hung on the back of the chair, sleeves rolled up, revealing the ink that curled along his forearms. His jaw was set, rough with the shadow of early morning stubble. The air in the room smelled like burnt

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