#lifeguard AU

[millipede-menace]

Anyways here’s a doodle

[ronearoundblindly]

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.

[charliemwrites]

A reader x Simon commission piece I just recently finished for my sweet bean N.W. I had a lot of fun writing a little scenario I never would have thought up on my own!

(Reader is described with FAB anatomy, but no gendered pronouns are used. No sensitive content warnings, just spice.)

It’s a perfect day.

The sun is a bright golden marble in a perfect jewel sky, toasting the sand into a powdery bed. There are only wisps of flossy cloud to interrupt the light, a feathery salt-soaked breeze to soften the edge of heat. The water is nothing but lazy ripples, foamy waves crawling up the coastline before slithering back.

And your coworker is soaking wet.

When you first signed on as a lifeguard, you didn’t expect more than some extra pocket money. A little financial cushion while you finished working through your master’s program. A chance to get some sunshine instead of holing up in your room. Maybe the occasional bit of eye candy while you fished children out of the shallows and fussed at families for littering around the barbecue grills.

You didn’t expect Simon “Walking Wet Dream” Riley. (Okay, that’s not his actual nickname – apparently it’s “Ghost.” Because of course it is.) You didn’t expect his big, fuck-off muscles, or his perfect sun-bleached hair, or the dark ink of his tattoos, or…

Well.

You got more than just eye candy when Mister Price hired you. Simon is a whole damn feast. Especially when he’s fresh from a cool-down swim, red trunks weighed down by water and tides, revealing the tantalizing curves of his hips. Droplets skittering over the bulges and divots of his body, sparkling in the sun…

“Excuse me?”

You try not to jolt, head jerking to the guy that hopefully hasn’t been standing there too long. He looks about your age, maybe a bit older. Wavy, chin-length brown hair and eyes nearly as blue as the water. Pretty, in a young Instagram prince kind of way. Maybe your type in another time – the time Before Simon.

“Hi,” you say quickly, “did you need something?”

“Do you have any plasters?” he asks. “My little brother scraped his knee.”

You glance at the kid shuffling just behind him, his knees dirtied and one red with a bit of blood. Nothing serious, you determine, but could use some first aid.

“Oh, poor thing!” you say. “C’mon, we have some bandages in the shack.”

You wave to get Simon’s attention, make the quick hand-sign indicating you’ll be gone for a moment. He notices you, the two boys, then nods and makes his way back to his usual lookout spot.

The shack is a quiet, cool oasis away from the heat. You’ve dozed off next to the mist fan more times than you care to admit, only to be woken by Simon pressing a cold water bottle to your cheek. It used to annoy you, but now you appreciate the reminder to hydrate.

There’s a robust first aid kit in one of the cabinets, though you groan a bit when you see how high Simon’s stashed it this time. Damned tall man; you could swear he does it on purpose. You try to reach it on your toes, but when that doesn’t work, you jump a bit. Still no luck. You’re going to have to get the stepstool at this rate.

“Here, I’ve got it.”

You jump a bit as Insta-Prince comes up behind you, sliding in close before you can scoot out of the way. He stretches his arm over your head, tugging the kit down from the shelf. When you glance up – concerned about something falling on you – you find him smirking down at you.

“Thanks,” you say trying not to snatch it out of his hands.

“Seems like an… inconvenient place to put that,” he muses.

You sit the younger brother on a plastic chair near the door and kneel, kit open on the floor. “We usually keep it lower… I think Simon forgets I’m shorter than him.”

The kid winces a bit at the sting of wound wash but puts on a brave face when you smile at him.

“Seems pretty rude. Is he hard to work with?” Insta-Prince asks.

You hesitate, trying to think of how to respond. Simon was intimidating, at first. Dark eyes and stoic expression, he was difficult to read. Always within a stone’s throw, you used to feel like he was hovering. Like he didn’t think you could do your job right.

Over the months, though, that insecurity has bridged into a tentative friendship. Even if he’s not talkative himself, he lets you chat to your heart’s content. Keeps you hydrated, reminds you to eat snacks and apply sunscreen. Even handles the rowdier beachgoers when they break rules, his bigger stature and sharp glare enough to cow even the most entitled people.

“No, he’s—”

“What’s the hold up?”

You glance up at Simon’s broad form angled in the shack’s doorway. His eyes aren’t on you or the kid, though. They’re on Insta-Prince – standing a little close to you, now that you’re not focused on the younger brother.

“Just finishing up,” you answer, smoothing a waterproof bandage over the scrape. “You did great, buddy, high five!”

That earns you a little smile and the requested high-five as the kid hops out of the chair. When you stand, Simon’s eyes flick to you. Darker than deep water, something swimming within that you can discern from the surface. It makes you fidgety, like you’ve been caught out doing something you shouldn’t.

“Remember to log it,” he rumbles.

“On it!” You lean over the wooden counter to pluck the clipboard from the wall on the other side, relieved that someone put the pen back for once.

“So, you have to write down all the injuries people get?” Insta-Prince asks, trying for casual conversation. The air feels oddly stifling, and gets worse when he settles closer, peeking around to see the sheet.

“Just if we use medical supplies,” you answer, scribbling quickly.

“Lifeguards only in the shack, kid,” Simon interrupts. “Get moving.”

You try not to snort in amusement. While Simon might tolerate you, he’s got a general disdain for most beachgoers – ironic considering how adamant he is about safety. But he seems to find the average person a nuisance to be constantly monitored and herded away from trouble. Like a shepherd with a flock of particularly stupid sheep.

“My brother was hurt, man, give me a break,” Insta-Prince protests, annoyed.

“And now he’s not,” Simon replies. “You should catch up with him. Kids need to be watched, isn’t that right, sunshine?”

You hum absently in agreement, signing off on the injury log with your initials. There’s a beat of silence that itches at the back of your mind. When you look up, Simon’s arching an eyebrow at the guy, thick arms crossed across his barrel chest.

Sir, firearms are not allowed on the beach, you think, before wrenching your eyes from Simon’s biceps.

“Did you need anything else?” you ask Insta-Prince.

“Just what time you get off work,” he replies, giving you big, soft, hopeful eyes.

You blink, a bit shocked. Flirting happens rarely for you, except maybe platonically with Soap or Gaz. To be fair, you’re not exactly the female lifeguard idol that most people would fantasize about. Half the time you jog around in shorts and a rash-guard, more comfortable in unisex swimwear and keeping the worst of the sun off yourself. Helpful to avoid wardrobe malfunctions if a panicking swimmer grabs at you.

Besides, you’re not really looking to get hit on. Hard to keep an eye out for emergencies if someone’s chatting your ear off for a shag by the restrooms. (You didn’t think people really did that until Farah groaned about it at the bonfire when you first hired.) Still, now that it’s happening… you don’t hate it. This guy is objectively attractive, apparently cares about his younger sibling enough to get him first-aid, and is weathering Simon’s increasingly annoyed scowl.

You figure there’s no harm. Not like someone else is showing a similar interest.

“At sunset,” you answer. “So, uh…”

“6:30,” Simon offers.

You shoot him a grateful look as the kid begins scooting for the door, skirting around Simon’s wider, thicker frame. Christ, the difference is stark. You tug at the front of your rash-guard to relieve some of the sudden heat.

“Maybe I’ll see you then,” he says before disappearing around the corner.

You stare after him for a second. He didn’t even ask for your name. “Huh.”

“The hell was that, sunshine?” Simon grouses.

You turn to him and shrug. “No idea.”

“Really now?” he scoffs.

You shake your head, already agitated by the whole thing for no reason you can pinpoint. Lean over the counter again to hang up the clipboard. “Really.”

“This isn’t a place for your silly summer fantasies and little meet-cutes,” he growls. “This is a real job, with real lives on the line.”

You twist around, brows furrowed as your mouth drops open in offense. “I know that.”

“Do you? Then why the fuck were you in here flirting?”

“I was helping the kid,” you argue, “you saw him!”

“Real convenient, that. When the older one’s been eye-fucking you all damn day.”

Any snappy retorts drown in the shock of his crass language and the accusation. All day? That guy? And Simon noticed? Never mind all that – Simon would seriously think you’d use a kid’s injury as an excuse to… what? Get cozy with an attractive stranger while on duty?

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you huff, “but I need to get back out there.”

As you pass, a big, rough hand snaps out and catches your elbow. You come up short, half-turning towards him, face hot. Equal parts angry and ashamed for some reason. Summer romance your ass.

“Get it together,” he orders.

You click your tongue at him. “Same to you.”

You wrench your arm back and storm out onto the sand, snatching your floatie from the shack railing along the way. Don’t know what jellyfish stung his ass, but you hope he figures it out. Don’t think your self-esteem can take another round of… whatever that was.

The rest of the day passes tense and slow. Without Simon to talk to, and the beach relatively peaceful, you’re left to fixate on the incident in the shack. What was that about? You thought for sure you’d grown on Simon a bit. Sure, you’re one of the younger lifeguards, which is why Price assigned you to Simon’s post, but you’ve worked hard. You thought you’d proven yourself.

Checking your watch, you find that it’s nearly 6:30. The sun doesn’t seem that low yet, but the beach got empty while you were idly keeping watch. Might as well pack it in, you figure.

Not even thinking of Insta-Prince when you hop up the little wooden steps to the shack. Simon isn’t back from wherever he’s monitoring yet, and you’d like to be clear before that changes. Just in case he’s still in a bad mood.

You shed your blue swim-shorts and rash-guard on the counter, leaving you in the more standard one-piece. Roll your shoulders a bit uncomfortably, itching to squeeze into your binder after a day with tits-out. You’ve gotten accustomed to the sensation of leaving it off for the job, but you’d still prefer to wear it when safe.

You flop onto the counter, reaching over the side to fish your bag out from its cubby. Of course, that’s the exact moment that you hear Simon’s heavy step on that creaky board by the doorway.

“Bloody hell,” you think you hear him mutter.

“I’m just about to head out,” you assure him.

“Meeting up with that knob?”

Your temper flares. You abandon your bag and land on your feet, spinning around. Come up (very) short when Simon’s right there, not enough room to breathe without your chests brushing. But you don’t allow yourself to be deterred.

“So, what if I am?” you challenge.

His eyes darken, then narrow. “This isn’t a game you want to play, sunshine.”

“Maybe I do,” you insist, planting your hands on your hips.

He exhales slow and heavy, boxes you in against the counter with hands on either side of you. Your stupid, traitorous heart skips a beat, then trips into double time. Normally he wears a rash-guard too, but not today. No, today it’s swathes of tanned, scarred skin. And it’s so, so close to yours.

“You won’t win,” he warns.

Your tongue feels heavy and clumsy, maybe because your thoughts feel the same way. Now, you’re not always the most aware of “signals,” but there aren’t many other ways to interpret someone near-pinning you to a counter with smoldering eyes.

You scramble to review the earlier confrontation through a new lens. The way Simon glared at Insta-Prince, not you – until you seemed open to his interest. Oh. Ohhhh.

You wet your lips; the way his eyes lock onto the movement bolsters your courage.

“What if… I don’t want to win?” you ask.

His eyes dart up to yours, something a little sharper than longing when he whispers, “I’d make you a sore loser.”

An unexpected laugh bursts out of you; his teeth flash in a crooked smile as he scoops you up so easily. He sits you on edge of the counter and steps between your thighs, pelvis bumping against yours. You gasp, head dropping to stare wide-eyed at the frankly monstrous bulge in his trunks.

“W-wow,” you mumble faintly, thighs squeezing around his hips.

“C’mere, sunshine,” he growls, cupping your jaw.

You tilt your face up, sigh softly as his mouth slots over yours. He tastes like blue powerade and sea salt, tongue curling against yours when you grant him enthusiastic access.

Your hands make scattered, eager work of exploring him, unsure where you want to touch first, just that you have to. He’s as solid as you always expected, densely packed muscle under healthy, hydrated layers of fat. Sun-warm beneath your palms, shudders as your skim them dangerously close low on his twitching abdomen.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging gently at the shoulder strap of your swimsuit.

“Yeah,” you mumble, wriggling closer.

He huffs in amusement, peeling the elastic material over your arms and down your chest while you scatter kisses over his jaw and neck. You gasp into his peck when his calloused thumbs brush your hard nipples. Just a small touch, yet electricity is racing up and down your spine.

“This alright?” he checks.

You hum the affirmative, pressing into his touch as he pinches and rolls the sensitive peaks, slow searching. Reclaims your mouth to swallow each and every little mewl and moan that spills off your tongue. You can’t help rocking against him, hot and hard through the thin layers of swimwear.

“Simon,” you whine against his mouth, “c’mon.”

“Impatient,” he teases, nipping your bottom lip.

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough,” you complain, tugging at his trunks.

“I know, sunshine,” he coos, “just wait a bit longer.”

He takes the tiniest step back, fingers hooking in your swimsuit again to roll it the rest of the way off. You lift your hips to help, nearly squirming as strings of slick web between the fabric and your pussy. But Simon seems hypnotized, snapping the strands with his fingers and following them back to your swollen cunt.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” he rasps.

You make an embarrassed noise – which quickly graduates into an alarmed squeal when he drops to his knees.

“Simon, wait, I’ve been working all day and—”

“Don’ give a fuck,” he growls, “I’ve been dying to taste you for weeks.”

He yanks your thighs over his big, strong shoulders and dives in. It’s messy and obscenely loud, filling up the tiny shack and all the empty space in your head. Would be embarrassing if you had any room for something so frivolous. Instead, you’re gone on the way he sucks your clit and laps thirstily at your entrance. Utterly obsessed with the deep, throaty groans that leave you throbbing.

It's been a while, true, but you know he’d have you on edge so fast regardless. And he does, rushing up on it like a building, rolling wave. The devastating kind that’ll drown you in unyielding currents.

“Wait, wait,” you squeak, tugging at his coarse hair.

To his credit, he stops instantly, though he sounds absolutely gutted about it. Pulls back licking his lips like a cat with cream, chin practically dripping.

“Alright?” he asks, voice shredded to ribbons.

“I just,” you pant, “I just w-wasn’t ready to – to… I wanna cum on your cock. Please, Si?”

“Fuckin’ hell.” He surges up, pressing you down flat to kiss you stupid(er) and senseless. The taste of you isn’t as offensive as you expected, not coming from his tongue. “You’ll get anything you want if you keep talking like that.”

“Just want you.”

He helps you off the counter, drags you by the wrist to the plastic chair by the doorway. You’re about to protest – no way can that chair support someone his size, never mind both of you. But then he’s spinning you around, crushing you to his chest, and yanking you down into his lap. Any such nonsense as good sense dissolves like a sandcastle.

You can feel the length of him pressing hot and a little wet against your spine. (So, so high up your spine, good god). When he freed himself from his swim-trunks, you’re not sure, nor do you care at this moment. Your priorities narrow down to one absolute necessity: getting him inside you now, now, now.

“Easy now, baby, don’t hurt yourself,” he purrs in your ear. “Let me help.”

He curls big hands around your hips, tight enough that you relish the bruises that may bloom there later. Supports your weight as if it’s nothing to him, propping you over his lap as you line up his cock, dragging the flushed head through your pooling wetness. He curses low and rough, sinking you down until the tip catches on your entrance.

“There we are,” he grits, hands flexing in your soft flesh. “Nice and slow now, sunshine.”

If you had your way, he’d already be balls deep in your aching pussy. But his grip is firm and unrelenting, lowering you inch by thick inch down his shaft. You back and squeeze around him, encouraging him deeper, faster, helpless little noises escaping from your gaping mouth.

“That’s it, halfway there,” he breathes. “Doing so well.”

You choke. Halfway?! You already feel stuffed, walls gripping every contour of his cock like you were made for him.

He twitches inside you, bulbous, leaking head grinding deliciously, and your resolve cracks right down the middle. You dig your nails into his thighs and slam your hips down, crying out as he buries deep inside. Can feel him nudging your cervix, stretching your silky walls, all the way down to where your opening is sealed tight around the base of him.

“Fuck,” he snarls.

“F-feels so good,” you whimper, head falling forward as you clench around him.

Oh, you are definitely going to be so perfectly sore after this. You can’t fucking wait.

“If you’re that impatient to be ruined,” he chuckles breathlessly, “best brace yourself, lovie.”

You barely manage to get your feet planted before he’s fucking up into you, hard and mean. Just what you want, what you need. Your head falls back to cry your pleasure to the shack roof as you bounce. Rocking your hips each time he bottoms out, grinding him against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you. It’s mind-numbing; you’re leaking around him, know it must be dripping onto the floor at this point.

He snakes a hand around to your front. Brushes where the two of you are connected, the strange and dangerous sensation making tears prick at your eyes. Then his fingers skip up to your needy, oversensitive clit. You almost want to stop him, already so overwhelmed with pleasure. But again, anything like coherent thought is ripped away on a tide of ecstasy when he begins rubbing quick, tight circles.

Your rhythm faulters at the new stimulation, but Simon just widens his stance. It changes the angle, drags the head so perfectly against your g-spot. With the hand still on your hip, he starts jerking you down to meet each thrust. It’s slightly slower, but so much sweeter, combined with the rhythm he’s strumming on your clit.

Your orgasm rises like a tsunami, higher and higher, a devastating force building up inside.

“Simon,” you keen, “Simon, I’m gonna – right there…”

“That’s it, sunshine. Get me nice and wet with your cum.”

That voice, saying such filth in your ear, sends you over the edge. You nearly convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you scream. Back arching, writhing and gripping crescents into his thighs. And you can feel yourself gushing all over him, onto the floor.

“Yes, yes, fuck, just like that.”

You’re near limp as he keeps hammering into you, practically using you like a toy to get himself off. The thought alone makes you squeeze around him again, a powerful aftershock bringing another flood of wetness. Your head lolls back against his shoulder, crying into his ear, begging him to cum inside you, fill you up…

He crashes his mouth into yours as he cums, groaning into your lax mouth, jerking violently into your overstimulated pussy. You swear you can feel him spurting inside you, thick and white-hot. It feels… it feels…

You break the kiss to suck in a deep breath, lightheaded and still squeaky with pleasure. Simon trails soothing kisses over your shoulder, grip easing up to caress over the forming finger marks. You hum softly, voice husky. Flutter your eyes open and blink at the pink sky out the window.

“Is it… is it just now sunset?” you ask.

Simon chuckles against your ear. “Looks like I was about thirty minutes off. Whoops.”

[lovley-lil-possum]

Forgot to post the boys when I originally doodled em whoopsie- people seem to like them a bit so I’ll try to keep drawing them

[sea-lanterns]

Milf!Reader x Lifeguard!Arlecchino 😳😳😳😳 I think my head is swimming,,,,

Lifeguard! Arlecchino who can’t help herself from staring at the hot mom (you) with their cute kid. Shes aware of the effect she has on women at the pool, but she’s smirking a bit to herself when she catches you admiring her putting on sunblock over her muscles…

If you decide to one day take your kid to swim lessons, Arlecchino also teaches junior-level swim classes on the side. I can imagine your kid taking a liking to Arlecchino as she’s naturally good with kids, and it leads to you and Lifeguard! Arlecchino talking more between lessons…

[pinkiemme]

Did I just get obsessed about lifeguard Rex? Yes, yes I did

There’s a NSFW drawing on patreon too, just saying

And link to my shop 🥰

[linkyychan]

Lifeguards🏖

[where-dreamers-go]

“Summertime” Leon S. Kennedy x Reader — Part Three

(A/N: Part one and two are up. We’re back with lifeguard Leon Kennedy! What happens after Reader and Leon’s date? Does Reader ever get his number? Does the Reader’s friend get to see the pairing they’ve been cheering for? Have you had water recently? The last part will be part four. Warnings: Mentions of sea creatures, fluff, romance, Leon being Leon with phrases, puns, and kissing. Word Count:  4,514 words)

~~~

Blue skies and happy vacationers made for a bright summer.

Thinking of the previous evening spent with a certain handsome lifeguard made the summer utterly delightful. It made getting out of bed in the morning easier.

You were happy; eager for a new day.

Within your wishes of the day, you hoped that Leon was also happy.

Being a lifeguard held huge responsibilities. Each day was different and Leon held his own while under pressure. He had dealt with people yelling in his face, rip tide, and lost children. That wasn’t including everything a lifeguard had to do either.

I hope today is a calm day for him, you thought. He definitely deserves it.

“Lifeguard duty again, I see.” Your friend stated from beside you.

The pair of you walked towards your preferred spot on the sandy beach. A little ways ahead of the lifeguard chair that was in clear view as you approached.

“Don’t be weird,” your friend added and zipped ahead.

“Sure, thanks.” You called after them. Shaking your head, you walked closer to the chair shaded by a red umbrella.

Sitting with an elevated view of the beach sat the very handsome man you had been crushing on for multiple vacations. One who happened to set out the lifeguard chair closer to the water and to where your friend always set up the towels. The larger lifeguard tower sat quietly behind it all, slightly off in the back, but not by much.

Just be casual. It’s fine.

“Hey Leon.” You grinned at him.

He leaned over the armrest and removed his sunglasses, a soft smile on his lips. “Hey you. Any adventures planned for today?”

“Might go swimming later.”

His smile widened. “Have fun. I’m here if you need me.”

“I appreciate that.” With a wave, you went to join your friend.

On the towels, your friend crossed their arms. “I’m going to need more salt in these chips to counteract you two and your sweetness.”

“Sure.” You stretched out on the towel, grinning unapologetically.

“I’m serious.”

“Oh, I know.” You chuckled and tilted your head back to take a peek at your favorite lifeguard.

Leon’s smile only grew upon meeting your gaze. After a tiny wave, he put his sunglasses back on.

Oh, that smile, you thought and brought your sights ahead of you once more.

What could that smile do to you?

If only you could see that smile of Leon’s more often.

***

Summertime held the perfect atmosphere for grilling, swimming, and sweet treats. Hot weather also brought a collection of clouds. Some of which caught attentive people’s notice.

Lunch time was around the corner and an offshore thunderstorm was quickly rolling in to meet it.

That’s a little too dark, you thought while eyeing the horizon.

Glancing over at Leon seat at his appointed chair, his gaze was focused on his phone. A rarity in his position. He nodded to himself before putting the device away.

Having locked with your gaze, Leon pointed out towards the water and said, “I’m going to start calling people in. The lightning is getting too close. You should get indoors for safety.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You knew what lightning could do, especially the risk on a flat, sandy beach.

Together in record time, you and your friend packed up your belongings. The air around you had already felt different, charged and ready. The two of you scurried off of the long expanse of sand before the sky broke open into a downpour.

***

Much later, after thunderstorms and an early dinner, you headed to the gaming room. You were in dire need of entertainment. Checking the weather and hearing your friend repetitiously give critique on how you should talk to Leon more was enough to push you outdoors. The idea of playing in the arcade was rendered the preferable option.

Only a couple of minutes walk across wet concrete and various paths took up your time. Thunder still rolled in the distance, but the worst had passed, as you expected.

What you had not expected was to see Leon as you entered the gaming room. Well, his back, anyway; a clean white shirt and red swimming trunks. The man was leaning forward with full concentration over the pinball machine across from the main door.

Walking closer, you did your best not to startle him.

But who were you kidding? He was Leon.

“Checking on your high score?” Leon asked as you stepped up beside him.

“Maybe. Just curious.”

Risking a glance, Leon sent you a half-smile that weakened your knees.

How did you manage such strength the day before?

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

“I’m trying to put what I learned from you into practice.”

“And how’s that working out?” You watched the pinball ricochet through the middle section.

“I could use your professional guidance.”

“Yeah?” You peeked at his score, as his numbers had yet to put him in the top players.

Letting out a small grunt, Leon barely saved the pinball from dropping out of the game.

How should I do this? You thought, eyes flickering between his stance and the pinball itself.

“Would it help my case if I said, pretty, please?” Leon hit the side buttons repeatedly and unnecessarily. The newly placed pout on his lips made his attempts at pinball appear more desperate than initially seen.

“It wouldn’t help your timing,” you chuckled lightly and inched closer. “May I?” Your hands hovered over his on either side of the machine.

“Go for it.”

With most of your subconscious mind screaming, you proceeded to help Leon with his timing by placing your hands over his as he played. The small bit of logic in you hoped it would teach him to anticipate the pace of the game.

“Keeping the pinball in play for as long as possible,” you pressed his right fingers against the button, “is almost more important than getting the highest points on the board.”

“That sounds counterproductive.”

“I mean… If you’re only focused on getting the ball to those higher points, only, rather than keeping it in play, you’re going to lose out on more points in the long run.”

“Long term goals versus quick and big points. All right.”

As you two spoke, the pinball sped from one side of the board to the other. The traction leading it closer to following the loop towards the bottom.

“Okay. You can’t be too early because it’ll either fall in or you’ll be holding it there before trying to get the momentum back. It’s a tricky spot—so try avoiding that.”

The pinball was hit, its direction more favorable.

“Got it. Strategic not over zealous.”

“Exactly.” You kept your eyes trained on where the pinball traveled. A much more difficult task as Leon leaned closer to your level.

Goodness, you could smell him. It reminded you of vacation mornings and the baking aisle. Light and sweet backed with a quiet earthy scent. To be wrapped up in it for even an hour would be heavenly.

Focus. Focus. Fo— Crap.

Time ticked by without your attention on anything but the task set before you.

Spending one on one time teaching Leon ended up much more intimate than you imagined. He learned quick and not once did he downplay your own playing abilities.

The final pinball fell away. Lights and sounds ceased as a score was finalized.

Leon had gained a high score under your own. The illuminating numbers displayed for all to see.

Removing yourself from him quietly was a test of your composure. Your hands felt colder without his.

“Not bad.” He mused, eyeing the scoreboard. “Room for improvement, that’s for sure.”

Turning to you, Leon and yourself shared a smile as you gazed at each other. All warm and familiar.

“You did great.” You said softly.

“I had professional help.”

“Is it my turn?” A voice piped up from behind the two of you.

Startled, you both looked over to see a kid, no older than ten, waiting patiently and a tad confused at whatever he just witnessed.

“Oh!”

Apologizing to the kid, the pair of you quickly sidestepped away from the pinball machine.

“Oops,” you covered up a laugh. “Good game though.”

“Thanks.” Reflexively, Leon checked his watch and his eyebrows rose. “Ah. Didn’t realize it was that late. I should head home.”

“Oh. Get home safely, okay?”

“I will.” Leon’s smile was small, but incredibly sweet. “May I call you some time?”

Flutters erupted in your stomach.

It’s happening.

“If that’s alright?”

“Yes— It’s…it’s fine. Uh.” You dug out your phone and he did the same.

In a blur of numbers and bashful laughter, you both exchanged numbers and bid one another a good night.

***

The following day, clouds were building higher in the sky. Still blue and exceedingly warm. A promise for a fun summer day.

“Hey.”

You turned to see Leon jogging up to you. A minor interruption on your way back to the rented condo to give your friend their favorite snacks.

“Hey, Leon,” you greeted him happily.

“Hi…uh.” He pulled at his shirt. No lifeguard or safety symbol in sight. “Are you busy today?”

“I’m on vacation.”

“Right.” Leon rotated the watch on his wrist. “Are you all right with aquariums?”

“Sure. Depends on the aquarium, I guess.”

“Would you like to go with me as a date?”

You smiled.

“To the aquarium. There’s one in the town over. I can drive us there; it’s only about twenty minutes or so.”

“Today?” You asked.

“Yes. Today.”

“Right now?”

“Oh! We don’t have to go right now. Not if you don’t want to. We—”

“I’d love to.”

Leon’s shoulders visually relaxed.

“Let me just change shoes and we can go. If you’re ready?”

“I’m ready,” he said quickly. “I’ll wait here.”

You gave him another smile and discreetly rushed inside.

***

Your date had assured you that the aquarium was both a research and animal rehabilitation center. No catching creatures for show and profit. Only education and hopefully giving the animals better lives if they could not be released back into their home. A home so close.

Leon had picked you up and drove you out on about a twenty minute drive. The time spent in the vehicle held various music choices and comments of other people’s driving skills. It wasn’t necessarily awkward, just a new environment. Leon made it fun either way.

“So, which animals are you most excited to see?” He questioned after paying for your ticket.

“Sharks.”

“No hesitation.” He chuckled, walking beside you.

“Well, we can see the other animals too, obviously.”

“Yeah, but now I’m learning which is your favorite. All the shark’s teeth meant something, huh?”

Leon slipped his fingers along your palm and your hands effortlessly clasped together.

“It did.” You smiled to yourself. “And thank you again for helping.”

“Of course.”

Shades of blue and a wide spaced interior offered a calm atmosphere. Not crowded or loud. Out of the way, signs directed visitors towards specific exhibits and animals, colorfully spaced every so often. Nothing overwhelming to deter you from exploring.

Your date, delighted as he was to be in your company, eagerly and curiously walked with you towards a wall of thick glass. Beyond it, fish of all shapes and colors swam between their decorated environment.

“I heard they keep their octopi locked up pretty tight.”

“Octopuses.” You corrected.

He raised an eyebrow.

“It would be octopi if the word octopus was latin, but it’s not. It’s weird. I know. Sorry.”

“Knowing isn’t weird.” Leon gave your hand a squeeze. “Knowing is understanding more about the world.”

“And hopefully respecting it.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.”

In front of you both, a large fish with old scratch marks languidly swam by. Possibly an injury from propellers of a boat or netting. The fish was, without a doubt, not young and may have even been in a few scraps with others sea creatures.

The sea and the creatures within were a wonder. 

Swimming closer to the glass, the fish slowly passed.

“Okay,” you added. “That one was pretty big.”

“It could probably eat me whole.”

“No.” You hushed his outlandish thoughts.

“It could. You saw that thing, right?”

Walking along the tank, you said determinedly, “I’m not letting any fish eat you. Not on purpose and not on accident.”

At your words, Leon held himself higher and gave a satisfied look over to the fish. “Hear that? I’m off the menu. And not just because I’m on a date.”

You laugh came suddenly and short.

He’s a goof too, you thought while shaking your head in good humor.

Further inside the aquarium, after seemingly traveling through a tunnel with tanks on either side, you two spotted multiple pools in the center of an area. The small pools had numerous people gathered around them; even to the point of leaning against ‘Do Not Touch’ signs around the short exhibits.

Probably fish and stingrays, you thought. Not the delicate ones though.

“I’ve seen videos where fish keep circling back to get scratches.” You told your date as you two strolled passed.

“A dogfish?”

“No.” You bumped his arm lightly.

“A catfish?”

“Neither of those and I don’t remember what it was.”

Leon nodded and said in a serious tone, “Could definitely be related to a dogfish.”

Laughing quietly, you pulled him along towards the next exhibit of interest.

“Oh,” Leon exclaimed playfully. “I think I see where you want to go.”

“Hmm?” Following his line of sight gave way to a bright smile on your lips. “Oh, yeah.”

“Called it.”

Mutual delight added a skip to each step.

The pair of you headed toward an unobstructed view of another tank, taller than either of you could reach. Watery depths decorated with corals added more color to the shades of blue. One of the far sides were indistinguishable to its true distance as it kept a large environment for many fish; neither rectangular or perfectly round. An informational sign listed more than a dozen sea creatures in that tank alone.

Of all the fish, one caught your attention first. A hammerhead shark.

Hands intertwined, you and Leon observed the few visible hammerheads as they as almost swiveled through the water with their flattened head. It was peaceful. Everything there an ease to approach in order to learn and witness animals almost as if through a screen; close and mostly clear.

“When I was little, hammerheads were the first shark I liked.” You stated, wistfully thinking of a moment in your childhood. “No one ever told me they were scary or anything. I could just look at them without being fed terrifying tales.”

“Are they still your favorite?”

“I may be a little partial to great white sharks.”

“Movies didn’t scare you off?”

“Nope. I’ve watched too many nature documentaries for that.”

Softly, Leon’s thumb caressed the side of your hand. A soothing and comfortable gesture; touch that came naturally as if done a dozen times before.

“Nurse sharks are really nice too,” you said as you spotted one at the bottom of the tank. “They’re still cool even though people don’t get all crazy hype about them. They’re important too.”

“Important animals should be considered cool regardless. Or at least not badmouthed in groups. Do you know how many shark movies there are where the shark is the antagonist?”

“More every summer, I’m sure.”

“There’s always someone at the beach trying to scare people or asking if there are any sharks in the water.” Leon gestured widely with his free hand. “Technically, yeah, there are sharks in the water. It’s just a huge body of water. They’re likely not near shore depending on the time of day.”

“And time of year.”

“Yeah. I hope there’s not a new shark movie this year…”

“Nah. I think it’s romcoms and zombies.”

“Great.” Leon chuckled sarcastically.

Patting his bicep affectionately, you steered him around a curve of the tank to see more.

And more was seen amongst all blues and greens. Both of you enjoying the views full-heartedly. The large tank of sharks held true as a definite highlight.

Minutes turned into hours and comments lengthened into conversations. The pair of you went through almost every exhibit sharing facts about animals and memories of each other’s past.

A lovely date nearing its end.

Near one of the exits of the aquarium stood a well-lit gift shop. The two of you wandered into it with curious eyes. It was small, but stuffed full of merchandise.

You could easily be in there for half an hour glancing around.

Somewhere between souvenir cups and being distracted by detailed figurines, you did not see Leon’s movements. When you had peered over next, you found that Leon had disappeared from your side.

Huh. Where’d he go? You thought as you glanced around the shop. Did he find something?

Finally, you spotted him at the register being handed a bag.

He bought something. Okay… Not a big deal, but why’d he veer off so quickly?

Upon grabbing the bag, Leon turned away from the counter, eyes scanning the shop.

Raising a hand, you gave a tiny wave.

His bright smile greeted you once he found you. In a few strides, Leon returned to you with an air of excitement.

“Found something good?” You asked.

“I did. It’s for you.”

“What?”

Seeing your smile, Leon grabbed your hand and lead you out of the shop.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Wait ‘till you see it first.” Leon held open the bag for you to look inside.

Peering up at you was the grey and white face of a plush great white shark.

“Really?” You practically squealed in glee as you lifted the plush out of the confines of the bag.

“Yeah. All yours.”

“He needs a name.” You announced as you begun rotating the soft plush in your hands, checking every detail of cuteness.

Leon hummed in thought.

“Something that makes sense.”

He hummed again.

You turned the plushie at different angles before poking its nose.

“Finn.”

“Finn?” You looked to Leon with an approving smile. “That’s so cute.”

“Well, he is yours.”

“I love it. And I love him too.” You gave the plush a light hug. “But… I didn’t buy you anything.” You glanced back at the gift shop.

“Trust me, giving you Finn is better than anything in there.”

A bubbling warmth filled you, eased you and made you smile continuously.

How is Leon real?

***

Another hot summer day and window shopping was on the agenda. You and your friend went exploring the local shops to your hearts content. Options wide and catered to tourists. The perfect opportunity for your friend to ask a hundred questions about your date from the day before. At least your friend and your own curiosity for artisan goods could be satisfied more directly. Just the two of you. A normality during and outside of vacations.

Late in the evening, back in the rented condo, your phone alerted you of a text.

It was from Leon, asking if you’d be up for a swim in the pool later. The pool at the beach club had lights and usually people were gone by nine o’clock the latest.

You informed your friend before they could ask.

“Go with him.” Your friend urged.

“But it’s already late.”

“You stay up late. What’s the difference?”

“I’m inside when I stay up late.” You stated.

They fell back onto their bed.

Hugging your little shark plushie closer, you said, “I’m just….a creature of habit.”

“Do you want to go swimming with a fun, kind, and super fine with-and-without-a-shirt man that saves lives for a living?”

“Yes.” You answered quietly.

“Then what’s stopping you from answering the man? He’s into you.” They pointed to Finn and then the shark teeth. “Very into you.”

Taking a few deep breaths, you replied to Leon.

Sounds fun. I haven’t been able to use the pool yet. :)

Then it’s a date? (crossed fingers)

Yes, I’ll have to leave Finn here then.

Break the news to him gently. Don’t need him tearing up the room (fish)

I’ll do my best. :D See you later!

Can’t wait. ;)

“He sent a winking emoji,” you exclaimed.

Bolting upright, your friend squealed, “Show me! Oh my god!”

“There.” You turned your phone.

A little exchange of enthused exclaims later followed before you went to freshen up and change into a swimsuit.

***

Folded towel held in the crook of your arm, you found your favorite lifeguard standing beside the pool chairs.

“Hey you.” Leon’s smile was infectious.

“Hey.”

“You ready for a swim?” Tilting his head, Leon’s eyes held your gaze warmly.

“Yeah.” You set your towel on a lounge chair.

In one swift movement of flexed muscles, Leon had removed his shirt.

You swore that your brain malfunctioned for a whole five seconds.

Giving you a cheeky smile, Leon hopped into the pool. Water droplets sprinkled along the tile by the seating.

My brain really needs to catch up with me, you thought while regaining your sense of self amidst the small splash.

You knelt by the edge of the water as your date’s head breached the surface.

“Finn isn’t too mad at me for stealing time with you, is he?” Leon asked and shook his hair out of his eyes.

“A little, but I think he understands.”

Carefully, you slipped into the water. It was a comfortable temperature despite the late hour. You swam further out into the pool to join Leon.

“That’s a relief. Don’t need him bumping his nose into me when I least expect it.”

“Cant’ have that.” You smiled softly. “We’ll make it up to him.”

“How’s fish crackers and Jaws sound?”

“Fin-tastic.” The words left you before you could filter them out.

Bringing his hand up through the water, Leon splashed you. He laughed as soon as you retaliated. The two of you went back and forth until you were wiping water from your eyes.

Now is not the time for this. You internally scolded your eyes.

“Sorry about that. Does it sting?” Leon asked. His voice was incredibly close.

“I’m fine.” You opened your eyes, but squinted almost immediately.

Leon shook his head. “May I see?”

You nodded.

Gentle hands cradled your face as he inspected your eyes one at a time. His thumb prodding your skin only enough to nudge your eyelids to open more.

“They might get a little irritated from all the chlorine they put in here. You should rinse with some water when you get back to the room, but you’ll be alright.” His warm breath fanned over your face, sending a chill down your side. One of his thumbs rubbed across your cheek affectionately.

“Nothing serious?” You questioned quietly.

“No, you’re—” Leon’s voice caught in his throat as his gaze locked with your own.

The pool’s water settled. Sounds of the waves in the distance were mere whispers.

Leon’s hands remained in place as you lost yourself in the depths of his blue eyes. Neither of you shied away from the vulnerability.

How were you suppose to react when all you wanted was to know more?

Your attempts at steadying your breathing was near impossible.

Bravery had its moments and yours came as your fingertips ghosted over Leon’s biceps. His gaze flickered down to your lips. Just centimeters away from his own.

“Leon,” you whispered.

“May I?” He swallowed and added quietly, “Please?”

The questions melted your heart.

How could Leon be so….endearing?

Fingers curling around his arms, you answered softly, “Yes.”

Eyes fluttered shut as your lips were greeted by a light pressure. Tenderness seeped into your skin every second Leon kept you close. Everything else faded away.

All too soon or much later, you couldn’t tell, the kiss ended.

The beauty of it still shined in Leon’s eyes, more stunning than the night sky. His smile tickled every ounce of happiness into light. So genuine and sweet.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Leon asked softly.

“Like what?”

“Like…you discovered something. Like you’re looking at something for the first time.”

You ducked your head, smiling then. “In a way, I guess.”

“What?” He chuckled and lifted your head to look at him again. “You discovered that I don’t kiss weird?”

Grinning, you shook your head. “I’m happy with you.”

Steadily and all over, the humor on Leon fell away to reveal open gratefulness. Pure and fully content.

“I’m happy with you too. So happy.” Circling an arm around your waist, Leon brought you even closer. The warmth of your bodies very evident, arousing.

Something within you both clicked.

Lips met again, firmly and passionate in each minute movement. A series of affections on repeat between quick inhales for air.

A light bump to your back signaled that Leon had you both by the pool’s edge for support. One strong arm at the edge to keep you both afloat. His lips traveled along your jawline. Exciting and thorough. Your hands tangled into his wet hair and encouraged him to continue kissing down your neck.

You sighed blissfully. Letting one of your hands travel down his toned back.

At the junction between neck and shoulder, you felt his open-mouthed kiss slow. The warmth of Leon’s exhale raised chills down your back. He gave another kiss. Still the same spot, well heated from the intimacy.

But how much further would you two go? In a public pool, mind you.

“Leon.” You whispered.

In response, he hummed. A delightful vibration that made you almost change your mind.

“We should…slow down a little.”

Leon raised his head to see your face. “Are you okay?” His eyebrows knit together in concern.

“Yeah.” You breathed out. “Just…” Trailing off in words, you glanced around you at the few overhead pool lights and dark buildings.

He nodded.

Chills ran over your water droplet-covered skin as the night air touched you. A fair reminder of where you two were.

Ever the observant one, Leon nudged his forehead against yours and stated, “Why don’t we get you warm in a towel?”

You smiled and gave a small nod.

Taking ahold of your hips, Leon lifted you out of the pool to sit on its edge. He snuck in a kiss to your knee. It was healing nicely.

He’s so attentive, I might melt or…something.

Leon waited for you to stand before pulling himself out of the water. Another glorious view of his being.

After making sure your towel was securely around your form, Leon kissed your forehead.

“Let’s get you inside.”

The short distance walking you back to your rented condo was filled with lingering looks and one of his arms wrapped around you.

“Good night,” Leon kissed you on the lips tenderly.

“Good night.” You smiled as he bumped your nose affectionately and squeezed your hand one more time.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

DreamerDragon Tags: @cubedtriangle

Leon Scott Kennedy Tags: @

**Let me know if you would like to be tagged in insert readers, either through replies, ask, or message.**

[merceyca]

Same shit, different day

Jeremy and Andrew are lifeguards for the summer.

There was a saying Andrew liked to apply to the summer break: “Same shit, different day.” It was true that his days each brought the familiar routine of donning his uniform—a disgustingly bright red tank top and shorts that scraped his inner thighs raw when wet—and driving his mother’s car to the local public pool. From there, he would deal with the same cohort of squealing children, hairy-chested men, geriatric water-exercisers and women in large straw hats, until the sun was low and the sky turned a colour Andrew dubbed Freedom Orange.

The letters in front of the days were ever-changing, but the shit was invariably the same. 

A sudden splash of water on Andrew’s sun-warmed skin startled him out of his half-doze. Not that Andrew could ever fall asleep in a plastic chair so uncomfortable, let alone a public pool teeming with people who were his responsibility to watch. Still, the sameness had lulled him into a kind of calm. He shook it off with the water droplets already seeping through the fabric of his armbands. 

‘You know, you’re going to get crazy tan lines wearing those all summer.’

Andrew didn’t need to look up to see who had spoken. ‘Worry less about my tan lines and more about the kid in lane three, Jeremy.’

Sure enough, Jeremy followed Andrew’s gaze to where a dark head was bobbing just along the surface of the water. Andrew reached for a floatation ring, lobbing it in the kid’s direction before Jeremy could make a move. They both watched the ring soar through the air and land right within the kid’s reach. The kid pulled themselves up, coughing and then gagging.

Jeremy ran over to the podium close to the kid, performing the usual routine of finding their carers and suggesting they head back to the kiddie pool for now. All of the nonsense Andrew never bothered with. 

The kid was alive. As far as Andrew was concerned, his job was done. 

‘Nice throw,’ Jeremy said upon his return.

Andrew hummed. ‘Terrible catch.’

‘What?’

‘If you had been watching the pools instead of me, you could have caught that far sooner,’ Andrew elaborated. ‘Someone almost died because of your lapse in attention. That’s gross negligence.’

Jeremy tutted, amused. ‘What would you suggest, criminal justice major? Should I plead guilty and ride out the punishment?’

‘Just change your name and flee the country,’ said Andrew. ‘You would never survive prison.’

‘I’m sure you could teach me a thing or two from your juvie days.’

Andrew held up a finger in response. Just one. 

Jeremy’s laughter was as bright as the light reflecting off the water, sending a ripple of reluctant amusement through Andrew’s chest. 

There were people who would say these things to incite a fight, but Jeremy and his soft pink mouth sought only to reassure Andrew. You are worth talking to. You are worth joking with. It’s the same shit, different day, but not all of it has to be shit.

[spyderrrman]

lifeguard au

idk just something i cooked up in 20 mins procrastinating my chem hw 💔

[disastertwins9000]

Like mother like... future daughter in law I guess XD

they have perfected the death stare

🤯🤯

OMG?! is that mona? who is that!

the death stares are everything. you go badass women pop off :D

here have a lifeguard au based off my new job

[ronearoundblindly]

'Safety Captain' Masterlist

lifeguard!Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: An unfortunate incident leads to a most fortunate meeting, but how much of him can you enjoy in just a week of vacation?

Warnings for vague injury, language, eventual smut. More warnings at the beginning of each chapter. The full story will 🤞🏽🙏🏽 total around/under 10k. Famous last words.

Romance 🔥 || Smut 🦆 || Author Fave 🍀 || Angst ⛈️ || Fluff 🌼 || Dark Fic 🌘 || *** denotes work for all ages

Chapter One *** ⛈️🌼🔥 Chapter Two ***🌼🔥 Chapter Three 🌼🔥🦆 Chapter Four ⛈️🌼🔥🦆

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[millipede-menace]

Happy valentines y’all! (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) /♡

Spoiler for ch10 of No Flirting with the Lifegaurd ;)

(I know I’m super slow with updates, I’m so busy and tired and sick ;w;)

[lovley-lil-possum]

I doodled a couple more things cause i love them

Sun gives off such beach dad energy i adore them

I DESPERATELY wanna do lore or write stuff for them but like im not a great writer

[betweensaintsandmonsters]

i started something for whole @obikinlifeguardau whoops. should i be writing my bb instead? yes. is this all my brain can focus on? also yes.

“Don’t just stare at him, Skyguy, you look pathetic,” Ahsoka said as she grinned, splashing water in his direction. The lifeguard Anakin resolutely was not staring at gave her a look over his sunglasses before going back to surveying the pool. “Well, then how do I get his attention?” “You’ve been obsessed with this guy since the start of the summer, you could, I don't know, try talking to him.” Anakin had not been obsessed with the new lifeguard at the Temple Pool, he’d been politely interested. He knew from Baywatch that all lifeguards were effectively supermodels, but this guy, this guy was gorgeous. The sun had left his shoulders and cheekbones covered in freckles, that Anakin longed to trace with his tongue, had lightened his hair from auburn to copper. His muscles rippled under the tank tops he wore to the pool, all broad shoulders and toned abs. Not to mention the way his trunks were just a hair to short to be decent. But no, Anakin hadn’t been obsessed, he’d been observant. It’s different. Anakin threw his legs up on the pool deck and flopped onto his back in the water, “What would we even talk about Snips? I need a real plan.”

[fishnamedsushi]

Night Swimming - Chapter 5

Anakin stared out at the ocean, his thoughts as turbulent as the waves. Part of him wanted to run to the Villas right now, to confront Ben - Obi-Wan - and demand answers. Another part wanted to pretend he'd never seen those photos, to cling to the memory of that one perfect night.

"It's not just about him," Anakin said finally, his voice low. "It's... I don't know, 'Soka. Meeting him, it made me realize how stuck I've been. In this town, in this job..."

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow. "What, being a hot lifeguard isn't fulfilling enough for you?"

He snorted. "You know what I mean. I've got this degree, all these ideas..." He gestured vaguely at the ocean. "And I'm just... here."

"So do something about it," Ahsoka said, punching his arm lightly. "Go after your Hollywood hottie, sure. But maybe it's time to go after the rest of it too."

Anakin bounced his leg, frustrated and longing in equal measure. "What if I'm reading too much into this? What if it was just a fling for him?"

Ahsoka rolled her eyes. "And what if it wasn't? Look Skywalker, you've got two choices here. You can sit on this beach and wonder 'what if' for the rest of your life, or you can get off your ass and find out."

Chapter 5 of my short and sweet Obkin lifeguard AU for the @obikinlifeguardau collection is up now!