Safety Captain (1)

lifeguard!Steve Rogers x vacationer!Reader (see series)

Summary: A very sexy man shows up at a very unsexy moment during your vacation.

Warnings for mild language, other guests being as thirsty as Reader, and a vague injury/danger. WC 1945

Written for @bigtreefest's Summer Lovin' 300 follower celebration (I'm very late tho 🥲), using the prompts “it hurts when I ___” “then stop doing that” and pool/resort/hotel. There will be a few small parts to this with eventual smut; this is just the meet-cute sorta.

If you consider drowning a peaceful and relaxing experience, then your trip’s going splendidly.

Water hitting your lungs stings much worse than sunscreen in your eyes, but the shock makes you gasp anyway. Your skin feels pressure everywhere. You don’t know which way is up. The world is bright and blue and shimmering until an arm encircles and yanks you backward by your chest—your bare chest, you realize, since the cups on your bathing suit top flipped when you hit the the pool at such a steep angle.

Once at the surface, a gift and a curse greets you, garbled hum replaced by a solid slap of screaming, the blare of whistles. Light burns, water burns, air burns.

Oh yes, this is going swimmingly.

You struggle to get enough fresh hell anyway, coughing out water, air stinging worse. Your limbs contract to fight the pain, but the wall of muscle behind you is unyielding.

“Out of the way,” a deep voice shouts close to your ear. “Buck, make me some room. Get them back.”

He—whoever he is holding you so firmly and safely—moves you to the shallow end’s stairs with heaving strokes, and just when he releases your body to lift you out of the water, he quickly flicks the front of your suit back into place.

Bless you, kind sir. You’re in love…

…or maybe that’s the hypoxia.

Unceremoniously hauled to solid ground, you continue to sputter.

“It’s alright. I got ya. Breathe for me. That’s good.”

Your sunglasses are gone, so you squint up in his shadow to see nothing but a halo of dripping gold hair. Then your eyes adjust. You see him.

Suddenly, the world is bright and blue and shimmering again, all contained in the stare of your sweet savior.

When he smiles, well, you need even more air to recover.

You’re on your side until he’s sure all the water is out of you, until his hands help you sit up, looky-lous everywhere being herded farther off by two more lifeguards and some resort security.

“The boys…” you rasp out.

“Everyone’s okay,” he rushes, rubbing your back, warm and slick against your wet skin. “You don’t have to talk yet. Take it easy.”

You still feel compelled to explain.

“The—they were teasing him—“ you point to the chubbier kid in your group, the poor thing cowering by your lounge chair headquarters for the morning “—and I tried to stop them.”

“I know, shhh, I saw. Just breathe slowly.”

“Don’t like bullies,” you cough out anyway.

The lifeguard at your side grins from ear to ear, quickly interrupted by a girl shoving your sunglasses in his face.

“I found these,” she announces, elated. “I thought it was important since you were so brave, saving someone who fell in.”

You didn’t fall; you were pushed. There’s a difference.

The lifeguard’s smile turns tight, but he gestures for the girl to hand them over to their rightful owner. She continues to stare with huge, bambi eyes.

Politely, he takes them from her and clears of his throat.

“Thank you. Now step back please.”

Her disappointment is palpable before his blue gaze returns to you. As he asks if you’re ready to move, his palm lands on your lower back and stays there supportively.

The best you can do is shift your legs beneath each other and then hiss, “it hurts when I put weight on this leg. I think I twisted my ankle on the way down.”

“Then stop doing that,” he chuckles, swooping to get his arms under you and carry you to your lounger—the right one, immediately, as if he saw the boys fighting but knew exactly where you were before then, too.

The stout little thirteen-year-old who’d been picked on steps up to you with guilty eyes. He’s one of your charges today while the other adults all drink at the swim-up bar.

“I’m sorry they—“

“It’s fine,” you croak.

“—but they wouldn’t stop, and I told them to—“

“Hey, hey,” your lifeguard whispers, deflating the boy’s panic, “she’s gonna be okay. Just a little banged up, but we got the best of the best coming to help.”

Shamefully, the boy’s eyes turn down. “Sorry they called you a ‘bitch.’”

Great. Yeah. That needed to be repeated.

“Don’t worry about it. Can you go grab your cousin and—“ a brief wheeze overtakes you “—the girls and bring everyone back here so I know where you all are? Just a real quick check-in.”

He nods and runs off, almost plowing into a woman heading straight for you.

“Ah, your nurse has arrived.” The handsome, dripping wet man sitting with a hand still on your knee beams. “The best of the best, as promised.”

The older blonde lady purses her lips and rolls her eyes, ticking her head to the side. “Scoot, Steven. Let me have a look.”

He—Steven, apparently—rambles off what happened and what you mentioned hurt, standing out of the blonde’s way, but leaning over her shoulder, hovering while she manipulates your ankle.

“Thank you, darling.” She looks up pointedly. “I’ve got it from here,” she says, turning back to you. “I’m Sarah, dear. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”

“I’m Steve,” your lifeguard interjects as he backs away. “Glad you’re alright, Miss…?”

You introduce yourself in return. “Thanks for…um…” You glance down and tug at the front of your swim suit, remembering that this man might have already seen and touched your breasts. “Thank you,” you finish weakly, voice hoarse.

Steve beams again before Sarah swats him away.

While she wraps your ankle and anchors a bag of ice to it, you scan the guard towers to realize all three of the guys on duty are ripped, but Steve is…well, he’s something else.

“God, he’s gorgeous,” you sigh aloud without realizing.

Sarah snorts, muttering, “he gets that a lot.”

You smile, thinking it’s probably no secret that the cute guy gets around. “Bit of a man whore, is he?” you joke.

The nurse looks up at you sternly. “I should hope not! I raised him better than that.”

Shit.

Your face drops, a harsh and painful swallow globs down your throat, and you…just objectified that poor man to his mother who he so sweetly called ‘the best of the best.’

Is drowning totally off the table, or can you revisit that?

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—I—I just meant—“

She squeezes your hand, putting you out of your misery.

“It’s fine, dear. He is handsome, and I suppose there’s no harm in looking.” She packs away the last of her gear only to catch Steve’s eye across the pool.

He waves in your direction.

Sarah chuckles but doesn’t wave back. You put a quick hand up and mouth ‘thank you’ even though he probably can’t see that part.

“Well,” the nurse adds, “seems you aren’t the only one looking.”

Having one foot twice the size of the other can work. You can make it work. You’ll just camp out on a beach towel farther up the shore, no problem. The whole party is together today, day three of seven, so the good news is that you aren’t responsible for anyone. Also, your foot is only that size due to bandaging and not because it’s that swollen. Still hurts though.

In addition to a wicked limp, you need a relatively hard surface to sit on or stand up from. You end up on the rim of damp sand, wriggling to get comfortable. You try laying on your side, propped up on a bent arm. You try your stomach. You’re about try your back, reaching for one of the kids’ towels to roll up as a pillow when you notice a group playing volleyball.

Must be fun to, like, walk and stuff.

You sigh.

It’s fine. You are lucky enough to be on this trip in the first place, your ticket paid for by all the parents combined (with the agreement you’ll help wrangle the younglings for periods while the moms and dads do adult activities). The ‘job’ is a wildly fair trade since the families only split so far was the pool yesterday.

Is that…is one of the volleyball players waving at you?

You look over your shoulder, but there’s only the rest of your group, splashing and running through the surf. No one is facing you or the game.

As you turn back, starting to raise your hand, you see the golden glow of the player’s hair and think that sure resembles the lifeguard, Steve, from—

The guy waving at you gets hit, hard, by a spiked ball and stumbles back. Some commotion rumbles through the group, but you can’t hear specifics.

Shit, that is definitely Steve, son of Sarah, employee of the pool, jogging toward you. Are your tits covered?

You awkwardly pull yourself upright, shielding your eyes from the partially-overcast, bright sky, and smile.

“Hey,” Steve chirps, “thought that was you.” He is, again, in naught but board shorts and beauty.

“Yup, living the dream.”

He ignores your sarcasm and asks how your ankle feels (“meh”), if it’s messed with your plans so far (“had to bow out of zip lining this morning”), and if he might be welcome to sit with you for a while.

You blink a few times in shock behind dark sunglasses. “Won’t your friends…?”

He shakes his head, hair falling into his face, and drops down to the sand.

“I don’t see why not,” you say after he’s made himself comfortable.

When the littlest girl from your group comes shrieking over, bucket and scoop in her hands, you’re about to apologize for the interruption, but Steve immediately offers to help her build the castle of a lifetime.

He is sure to warn her to be careful around your foot.

This time, when you mouth ‘thank you,’ he sees it and returns another beaming grin.

Alright, perhaps vacation is looking up.

Steve is…very, very good at strategizing the sandcastle. After the first ‘tower’ goes up, the other kids get involved. Before you know it, the parents are all behind you gushing over how good your friend is with them.

"Handsome, too."

"Lots of energy."

"‘Bout your age, isn’t he?"

They aren’t quiet enough to not be heard which is clearly the point once the mother of bucket girl shouts out that Steve should join you all for dinner.

Oh, sweet holy—

“Not sure I wanna dive into your family time, ma’am,” he says politely, encouraging some water be brought up for the moat they’ve just dug.

“Then you should take our lovely girl here out. Show her more of the island.”

You glare daggers at the other woman who just chimed in.

“I can’t walk,” you bite out. “Where am I gonna go?”

Steve clears his throat to get your attention. “They line food trucks over on the west road until late, and…” his lip pinches to the side “…I can carry you.”

One of the dads darkly drawls, “like a fucking princess,” and you hear a sharp slap from his wife in annoyance.

Steve’s gaze remains locked on yours as the parents erupt in obvious innuendo.

“Could be fun,” he admits, only loud enough for you. “How about it? Getting hungry?”

All you manage is a nod before a bucket of water is tossed on Steve, and he chases the culprit down the beach and into the clear blue sea.

You’ll have to wait until the ‘monster’ is vanquished by the ecstatic children jumping to take down the big, strong man you, apparently, have a date with.

[Next Chapter]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Apologies that this isn't the whole dang thing. With how long everything has been taking me to write, I was afraid it wouldn't even be summer anymore, and if there is even a small chance that posting this will light a fire under me to finish, I am willing to try.

the boston brute series: pt. 7 (maleficent)

The Boston Brute Series: Pt. 7 - Maleficent

Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)

Summary: When you graduated from Northeastern University, you had your sights set on the West Coast. And then you were offered a position with the Boston Bruins Athletic Training Department. And then you met Chris. A 6′3″, ruggedly handsome hockey player dead set on making your life a living hell by pushing every button and getting on every nerve. Despite your obvious disdain for each other and the ‘No Fraternization’ clause in your employee contract, you’re drawn together in a passionate, fiery love affair that seems to burn everything in its wake.

Warnings: Crude language. Chris is an asshole. Somewhat toxic relationship/situation. Lots of Angst, neglect from the previous part is mentioned in this one, too. (18+, please. Minors will be blocked.) Mentions of violence. I did write something about the reader not eating very well due to stress. Please do not read this series if you are not a fan of asshole Chris or fics with a lot of angst. As always, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I finished this like 2 minutes ago lmao please expect grammatical errors also, shout out to @blizzspeaks and @tis-thedamn-season for letting me bounce ideas off of you constantly hahaha i love and appreciate you more than you know!

W/C: 7.7k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that actually happen in the NHL or with its players. Additionally, I talk about Chris’s family in this fic. Again, work of fiction and is no reflection of his parents or grandparents in real life.

likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

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Monday:

It’s been 2 weeks.

2 weeks since you walked out of Chris’s hotel room, his soft plea echoed through your mind constantly. For 14 days, you’ve heard Chris in your head telling you not to give up on him. You weren’t sleeping well, your appetite was nonexistent. You were taking this harder than your breakup with Dean.

Thankfully, 2 weeks is also the recommended recovery time for concussions. So while you were traveling with the team for the majority of the 14 days, Chris was home and recovering and you didn’t have to face him every single day.

Unfortunately, Connor was traveling with the team after being cleared to play. So every day, you were asked with a sad smile how you were feeling and what he could do to help. While you did appreciate it on some level, it was also starting to drive you crazy.

Which is exactly what got you to where you were now.

You’d gotten home late last night and promised yourself that the second you landed in Boston, you wouldn’t let Chris bring you down anymore.

So here you were at 6:30 on a Monday morning, standing in front of your full-length mirror in workout clothes, getting ready to go on a run. It was the first week in October, so you paired your workout leggings with a Bruins dri-fit quarter zip to keep warm, then threw on a pair of tennis shoes, grabbed your phone and AirPods, and headed downstairs.

Running has always been your favorite way to clear your head. After your break up with Dean, you ran 3 days a week for almost a year. Rain, sleet, snow, heat, or freezing cold. Concentrating on not passing out while you gasp for breath did a pretty good job at distracting you from your thoughts of asshole men who didn’t deserve you.

You trotted down the stairs, rolling your eyes when you saw Connor standing in the kitchen shirtless. “Jesus, do you live here now?”

He smirked, standing up from his bent-over position in the fridge and drinking OJ straight out of the container.

“Gah! Connor!” You walked over and snatched the carton from him. “You’re disgusting.”

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missaprilt23

5 months ago

Mmph, my🐱

Because this is how he’s gotta be looking at you when you’re at a neighborhood block party, right? After he sees you happen to have charmed the very shy little two year old girl who lives three doors down from you. Her four year old brother is shepherding both you and the little girl who won’t let go of your hand around to get snacks, play on the swings, and back and forth from the play room of the house throwing this get together.

He can see it.

American pie, white picket fence dream.

(Better put this behind a read more for some breeding and some questionable consent…)

You’ve already fooled around a bit. Not the first few weeks as the new couple in the neighborhood, but this week the proximity finally caught up in a moments of weakness that finally coincided for both of you. He knows you’re not a prude, but without a need to even discuss it, you had drawn a nice, comfortable line between the two of you. The logical thing if you’re going to play house to spy on the neighbors for as long as it takes to get their secrets. Both of you are such professionals it’s why he had no qualms taking this unconventional approach with you.

But then one late night less than a week ago…

And with the damn broken, it seemed a shame to waste a good thing.

He is on you the second he closes and locks the front door that night. It’s a kiss to consume you, and you half moan, half giggle when he presses you up against the wall and grinds his erection into your stomach. He’s a quick study and he’s already figured out enough ways to turn your brain off.

When he pushes you down to your knees, you go eagerly, and you unzip his pants and take his cock out without instruction.

He enjoys the warmth of your mouth until the saliva is dripping sloppily out of your lips and he can see you’ve finally slipped one hand down beneath your skirt to touch yourself.

That’s when he pulls you off, and in one swift moment raises you back up, twists you around, and shoves you against the wall. He flips up your skirt, pushes the wet gusset of your panties aside and sheathes his cock in you in one full thrust. You were wet for him, but not stretched, but you’ve already confessed that you don’t need him to prep you every time, that sometimes you like the pain of it, if being split open by his thick cock.

He can hear how far gone you already are in the baseness of your moan, which is perfect, because a couple of times you’ve let him fuck you a couple of times without a condom already, but he’s not pulling out tonight.

You realize that a moment too late.

In the throes of your first orgasm for the night, he continues pumping, he twitches inside you, and you try to move your hips, but he pins you and keeps thrusting.

“Steve, you need to - ”

“I need to fill your sweet cunt and see your belly swell with my children, sweetheart.”

You gasp and then cry out.

“What I saw tonight? You with those kids? Too sweet to pass up.”

He keeps thrusting until he’s spilling his hot seed in your womb, and he taps your needy clit to pull another short orgasm from you and you whimper his name.

He will take you again on all fours on the hardwood floor of the entryway before throwing you over his shoulder and then taking you apart until you’re mindless and docile and pumped so full of his cum before midnight that it’s dripping out of you. It won’t matter because he’s got plenty more for you, and he will keep you full all night, fucking you a few times through the haze of your sleep. You won’t be able to move in the morning with your exhaustion, which will be perfect for him to go to the bathroom and flush your birth control away.

As for him? He can do this all day, as many days as it takes to root his seed in you and get you to see this his way.

He even thinks it could be easy to sway you into his fantasy.

Sure seems like it with how you moan and cry at first but with cries that turn to keening.

Um… happy accidental Sinday!

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

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missaprilt23

2 years ago

The Boyfriend Experience

Pairing: Ari Levinson x fem!Reader

Words: ~3.2k

Summary: Ari does you a solid.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (voyeurism (prompt 13), male masturbation, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, cream pie, teasing, semi-clothed sex), asshole relatives, fake dating, alcohol consumption, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!

A/N: Just under the wire, but made it with my official entry for @navybrat817’s and @stargazingfangirl18’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!! I love wheel challenges and this was no exception, especially when fake dating popped up, because you know that’s my jam. Happy August b-days to you two lovelies!! I hope your birthday month was amazing and you got all the treats you could want!!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!!

You chewed on your lip as you stared at his front door, taking a deep breath before finally lifting your fist and rapping a few times.

“Hi, Y/N.” Oh fuck, you must have interrupted his workout. He was all sweaty and not wearing anything except for some very low slung gym shorts, making you swallow thickly as you tried to not ogle him. “What’s up?”

“Ari, hey. Is this a bad time? I can come back.” When he wasn’t standing there looking like a fucking Michelangelo sculpture.

“No, it’s fine. I was just cooling down.” He stepped aside and gestured for you to come in, grabbing a towel and running it over the back of his neck while you followed after him. “You need something, sweetheart?”

“I need a favor. Um, my family is throwing a big, super fancy charity thing- tomorrow actually- and I kinda need a date.” There, it was out.

Keep reading

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missaprilt23

2 years ago

Cait you did it again! Another masterpiece! *chefs kiss* you now deserve a break until the next idea comes to you.

out of left field series: epilogue - pt. 2

Out Of Left Field Series: Epilogue - Pt. 2

Pairing: MLB!Chris Evans x Best Friend!Reader (female character)

Summary: After 29 years of friendship with Chris, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. When he finds himself amid a PR nightmare at the same time your ex-boyfriend starts lurking around every corner, you enter into a mutually beneficial, strictly PR relationship to save his career and keep your ex away.

Warnings: Pregnancy, lots of fucking fluff. underage and of age alcohol consumption. throwing up.

W/C: 1.9k

A/N: I was pronouncing Samara’s nickname as “Saw-mee” not, Sammy. But do whatever you want hahaha

SURPRISE! The second epilogue! I know i said it would wait until Friday, but i need you guys to cry with me

Out of Left Field Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All players and scenarios are made up completely. This story does not reflect things that happen in the MLB, with its players, or with Chris in real life. Additionally, the reader’s family gets introduced in this series and are all OCs made by me. If you don’t like that, please don’t read this series.

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback are ALWAYS appreciated ❤

I no longer have a tag list! Please head over to @time-for-a-library and turn on notifications!

“Are you sure I look okay?”

You blinked rapidly, willing away the tears that clouded your vision as you stared at your best friend’s beautiful daughter, “You look amazing, Sami,” you cleared your throat and looked away, dabbing your tissue under your eye.

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missaprilt23

3 years ago

@blizzspeaks Chris and the grapefruit!

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missaprilt23

3 years ago

Your not crying I am!

the boston brute series: pt. 14 - is this enough for you?

The Boston Brute Series: Pt. 14 - Is This Enough For You?

Pairing: NHL!Chris Evans x Athletic Trainer!Reader (female character)

Warnings: Crude language. Lots and lots of angst. Crying. Mention of smut, but nothing like graphic (still 18+ only). Communication issues. Fluff. Brief mention of the reader not eating/losing appetite. Please do not read this series if you are not a fan of asshole Chris or fics with a lot of angst. As always, let me know if I missed anything!

W/C: 7.2k

A/N: you guys. i was not ready for this series to end. the amount of support and love i’ve gotten in the past few months has been mindblowing and while this series is over, i have a lot of great fics coming your way! And a 2 part epilogue for this series coming soon. Thank you so much for following along with this series, i love you guys to the ends of the earth and back.

Additionally, i would be remiss if i didn’t give a shout out to the two people who have constantly been there to bounce ideas off of and have provided the best support. @blizzspeaks and @tis-thedamn-season. I don’t tell you guys enough, but i love you forever and always ♥️

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site. Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

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time-for-a-lullaby masterlist

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Chris: What are you wearing?

You snorted out a laugh, bringing the crumpled-up tissue in your hand up to wipe your nose. Ever since your move, Chris has the tendency to text you the wrong thing at the wrong time.

A suggestive text while you were still at work, some sarcastic remark, or a poor excuse of a joke while you were in a meeting. If you were in Boston, the texts would’ve come through while you were home after work, but given the 3 hour time difference, Chris was home for the night while you were still stretching and handing out ice packs to sweaty men.

Tonight it wasn’t an inappropriate text for your location, per se, you were laying in bed after all. But the tearstained pillowcases and a small mountain of crumpled-up tissues on your bed didn’t exactly have you in the best mood for a ‘what are you wearing’ text.

Your face was puffy, your nose somehow stuffed up and runny at the same time, the reality of being across the country from the only family you’ve ever really had was weighing heavy on your chest tonight and as soon as you got home from the game, you threw on a pair of Chris’s sweats. You set a timer and gave yourself one hour to sulk, cry, and be angry at the world, and then you would suck it up, shower, and call Chris.

It’d been two weeks since you made your move to Los Angeles and started your job with the LA Kings and Chris kept promising that would get easier, but you weren’t finding that to be the case.

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missaprilt23

3 years ago

Love me some Knight Steve Rogers!

In the Name of the King (S.R.)

Type: medieval/fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 13,000 *

Summary: Sir Steven Rogers, having risen from common people, now one of the most trusted knights to prince Anthony. You, nothing but a servant, albeit to Princess Maria herself.

Love blooms in any place and it cares little for the rules of the court – much like your Steven. Then again, war cares just as little for any feelings you and your knight might harbour for each other…

Warnings: 18+ for NSFW thoughts, talk and sexy times in making, inexperienced and rather reader, probably desperately era-inaccurate, blood and mention of violence, death, religious ambiguity, tooth-rotting fluff, angst, language, (reader has hair long enough to be braided)

A/N: This is sort-of a song fic for it is based on a Czech song. You can find it here. I took the liberty to loosely translate the lyrics for you throughout the fic.

* A/N: If you prefer reading it in two parts, the best part for a split is after 5,5k words – you will find a gif there. Divider’s mine, btw. Enjoy 🥰

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missaprilt23

7 months ago

MASTERLIST

CUT LOOSE

Pairing: PersonalTrainer!Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Summary: once upon a time my dear friend @sparkledfirecracker wrote an amazing fic about Golf Instructor Ransom Drysdale (go read the first two parts btw because it’s amazing) and we found ourselves fantasising about how great it would be to have an entire gym filled with Cevans characters. Lilo and I have something great planned for you and after Lilo’s Ransom I decided to have my go at Personal Trainer Curtis. I hope you’ll enjoy this pairing because I loved writing about them.

Warnings: slowburn, fluff, smut, reader has body image issues, personal trainer Curtis (this one is a big warning). * chapter contains smut

Feedback is very welcome, reblogs are golden. I don't allow my work to be copied or reposted on other websites. Don't steal other people stuff!!! MINORS DNI - DO NOT read unless you're 18+ thank you!

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR *

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT *

CHAPTER NINE *

TAGLIST IS OPEN!

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missaprilt23