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Burnin’ Up - Firefighter Chris AU Masterlist

Series Summary: On paper you and Chris should work out perfectly, understand each other, except it’s never that simple… especially with the Cop vs Firefighter rivalry, a rivalry made worse by pushy parents.

Pairing: Firefighter!Chris x Cop!Reader

Series Warnings: Cop vs Firefighter Stereotypes! Description of Emergencies! Pushy and Demanding Parents! Angst! Fluff! SMUT! 18+ ONLY! Minor Character Deaths! More detailed descriptions at the beginning of each part!

Masterlist

Meet the Characters!

Part 1: Long Day at the Office

Part 2: Dramatic Reunion

Part 3: Facing the Consequences

Part 4: Pulling Pigtails

Part 5: Doughnut Squad

Part 6: Friendly Rivalry

Part 7: The Evans Family BBQ

Part 8: Boiling Point

Part 9: Up in Flames

Part 9.5: Immediate Aftermath

Part 10: Burning Bridges

Part 11: How You Get The Girl

Part 12: Worth The Wait

Part 13: Bring Your Partner To Work Day

Bonus Drabble: Skater Boy

Part 14: Off My Mind

Part 15: Calm Waters

Part 16: The Storm

Part 17: Bulletproof Vest

Part 18: Moving On and Up

Part 19: The Eye Of The Hurricane

Part 20: Those You Choose

Epilogue

Bonus Epilogue

Headcanons/Extras

Sleeping Giant

Sleeping Beauty 

Prank War

Home Sweet Home

Peek Into The Future

Series Playlist

Cait…………..now we know why you had to take breaks from writing!!

arranged: pt. 5 (amore mio)

arranged - pt. 5 (amore mio)

mafia!Chris Evans x Female Reader

Series Summary: Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who  you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

Warnings: language, alcohol, arranged marriage (chris’s family signs contract with readers family that promises their first born daughter to their first born son), parental abuse mentioned, age gap. Reader is 25, Chris is 35. Guns, violence, blood. SMUT. oral, fingering, unprotected sex (18+only)

A/N: oooooof this part is steammmmyyyyy

W/C: 6.5k

Italian and Italian translation in italics. DISCLAIMER - I am not Italian and do not speak Italian, if there is something wrong or something not phrased correctly, PLEASE CORRECT ME!

likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

series masterlist

time-for-a-lullaby masterlist

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE (i will not be going through comments or reblogs anymore for tag requests)

Sooo…” you leaned back against the counter, pausing for a second to roll your bottom lip between your teeth while you toweled off your wet hands, “Will you be home for dinner?” You watched Chris move through the kitchen quickly, paying attention to his phone. 

“No,” he responded quickly, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, putting his phone to ear when it rang, “Yeah?” 

You watched him for a second, setting the hand towel back on the counter while trying to brush off the disappointment panging in your chest. Almost every dinner for the past 3 weeks was spent much like the first few days of your marriage. Alone, leaving a plate for Chris in the fridge. Only now, the plates were there the next morning instead of eaten and cleaned. Chris’s presence around the house had been scarce while he and Romano tracked down whoever ordered the hit. You made the mistake of asking why they couldn’t get the cops involved, which Chris scowled, growling out, “No. Cops.” and then left. Again. 

You understood why he was busy, after visiting Sebastian, you wanted whoever ordered the hit to pay, too. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. Things had gotten lonely around here, there were only so many ways you could distract yourself. Although, the many Amazon packages being delivered everyday proved that you were at least trying. 

Turning around, you dipped your hands back into the soapy water, grabbing the sponge to finish off the dirty dishes from your 10th attempt at making the perfect batch of chocolate chip cookies. Chris stepped into the other room for his call, leaving you to it. Once again, you were trying to convince yourself that he was just busy and it had nothing to do with you. It was his job. His life. One of his men was attacked and it was up to him to make them pay. That was his life. You were just his wife. If there’s anything you learned about this life, it’s that you would take a back burner. 

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I love this fluff!!!!

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS | Ch 1

Summary: A snowstorm has canceled all flights and you're stuck alone for Christmas... or are you? Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: 18+, This is a pretty fluffy chapter, alcohol consumption, bad language words Author's Note: I've been on the road for work and looking forward to getting home. I'd be a mess if I couldn't... this is going to be a multi-part series, so hang tight! No Beta, mistakes are mine! Thanks @time-for-a-lullaby for giving this a quick read!

Masterlist Thanks for liking, commenting, & reblogging. I do NOT authorize any of my work to be translated or re-shared off of Tumblr (IE: Wattpad, AO3, etc)

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Home For the Holidays

Next Chapter

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The notification from your phone was like a punch to the gut. "Canceled." Every flight for the next 72 hours was canceled due to the ridiculous blizzard happening outside. You had tried everything, looking at alternative options. You were, in a word, stuck. Sulking, you headed downstairs to the lobby, extending your stay, picking up a bottle of red wine and a few snacks from the lobby gift shop. If you were going to be here a bit longer, you might as well make the most of it. Your face wore a crestfallen expression all afternoon, your heart aching to see your family and the dread spreading through you that you'd have to make that call no one wants to make during the holidays. "I won't be able to make it home for Christmas." It was a heartbreaking conversation, but your parents understood considering the weather.

Changing into some cozy (yet casual enough to wear in public) loungewear, you pulled on your Uggs and brought your wine and a glass downstairs to the guest lounge area. A few others had similar ideas, hanging out by the fireplace, playing board games, while soft instrumental holiday music played in the background. A coffee/cocoa/tea & s'mores bar had been set up for guests by the lodge staff. Every topping imaginable for the cocoa, Hershey bars galore and the biggest, fluffiest homemade marshmallows cut into squares so they would fit perfectly on the graham crackers. You settled into an oversized chair by the fireplace and wrapped yourself up in a thick blanket that you had grabbed from a basket near the seating area. As you watched a family also stuck at the lodge unwrap gifts by the tree sipping your Cabernet, a tear trickled down your face.

"Not able to be with your family either?" A voice interrupted your thoughts. You looked up, quickly wiping the tear away seeing an equally wistful looking Chris Evans sitting with a beer sitting in the other oversized chair, feet propped up on the matching ottoman.

"Yeah," you nodded, curling into yourself a little. "Merry Christmas to us," you offered your glass out in a distanced toast, which he held up his beer in response, "Merry Christmas," he responded as a sympathetic smile passed across his bearded face before the both of you took a sip.

"So what were you doing up here in the middle of nowhere?" Chris asked, attempting to make some small talk.

"Snowboarding trip. Annual tradition for me before I trek home to spend the holidays with my family. A little 'me' time; the slopes, the spa, and fuck all."

Chris laughed at your response. "Really? Didn't peg you for a boarder."

"I'm pretty decent, though the gnarly bruise on my hip right now might try to tell a different story." You laughed, setting your glass on the end table next to you.

"Wow. How bad of a fall caused that? I've got one on my thigh right now - we might have to have a show and tell," Chris grinned, clearly in an attempt lift your spirits before taking another sip of his beer.

"Nothing like trying to stop and a snow drift just says 'fuck you' before dragging you down to the ground," you giggled into your glass, playfully extending your middle finger to emphasize the 'fuck you'.

"Got it," Chris chuckled. "That's happened to me a couple of times before." Chris ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling a breath. "Where ya from?"

“Pennsylvania - you?”

“Boston. How’d we end up in middle of nowhere Colorado?” Chris mused, watching a sparkle slowly creep into your eyes, the more you two talked. In the back of his mind, he knew the two of you desperately needed to feel better about your circumstances. Any laugh he was able to draw from you was helping him feel better as well.

“I’m not entirely sure, but I’m not necessarily complaining,” you polished off your glass. “You having another beer?” You motioned to his bottle.

“If you’re having another glass of wine, I won’t turn down another beer,” he smiled. “Be right back,” Chris stood, dropping his bottle into a recycling bin and slipping out of the room. You sat, your fingers contemplating the mini bottle, enough for one more glass. When he returned a few minutes later he held a six pack, and two fresh mini bottles of the red you were drinking. “Figured you might want another glass… or two?”

Releasing the finger you twisted into your hair, “Thank you.” Chris handed off the bottles and the two of you moved to sit on the sofa. “You want some of this blanket?” dog earring a corner as an invitation.

“Yeah, if you’re OK with it,” he accepted your invite and slipped under the soft fabric with you.

****** A few hours or so later… wine time ******

The two of you laughed back and forth as the booze had significantly lowered your inhibitions. You and Chris were going back and forth over something trivial that had you both howling with laughter. You had snacked on more s’mores than either of you would care to admit. At one point, Chris had dotted a small dollop of whipped cream on your nose and you two were getting progressively closer and cozier under the blanket. You swapped stories about wild holidays of Christmas past with your respective families, and got deep into music tastes, your careers, and more.

Your phone chimed with an alert - midnight. You’d normally be at midnight services with the family - your annual pilgrimage to church (you would consider yourself spiritual, but not deeply religious). Your brain sobered back to reality, the little traditions you were missing.

“You OK?” Chris casually slipped an arm around you, resting it on the back of the couch. You looked around the room and realized that you were alone at this point.

“Yeah…” you paused for a moment before you spoke again. “It’s Christmas.”

“It is…” Chris hummed, checking his watch. “Merry Christmas. I just realized I haven’t even gotten your name.”

“It’s Y/N,” you shyly replied.

“Chris,” he formally introduced himself. “Merry Christmas Y/N.”

“Merry Christmas Chris.” You downed the final sip of wine in your glass. “We might want to call it? The slopes are open at 9:30 - considering I’m still stuck here, might take advantage. Not sure what you’re doing in the morning, would you want to join me?”

“Why not? Better than being cooped up in a hotel room alone,” he smiled, polishing off the last sips of his beer. “Join me for breakfast then we can hit the slopes?”

“Sounds great. 8:30 at the lobby restaurant?”

“Perfect,” Chris stood, extending a hand to help you stand. The two of you cleaned up your beer and wine mess in silence. Folding the blanket, you set it back into the basket and turned off the lights.

“I’ll see you in the morning?” You looked to Chris as the two of you walked to the door.

“Yeah… wait, Y/N, look,” he pointed up, acknowledging the mistletoe hanging over the both of you in the door. You looked up seeing the plant, biting your lip very nervously. You drew in a breath, your eyes returning to meet Chris’. “May I?” Chris sought your permission.

“It’s tradition… sure,” you shyly smiled at him. Chris’ hand gently cupped your cheek, and he leaned in, softly pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks exploded in your belly when he connected, your knees immediately going weak. Your arms wrapped around his neck as Chris drew you close to him with his other arm wrapping around your waist. Your mouths timidly explored the other’s, his tongue swiping across your lip, seeking out your own. A soft moan escaped your throat when his confidence grew and Chris deepened the kiss. Holding on, your fingers carefully ran through his bunny soft buzzcut while his hands respectfully held your waist, occasionally rubbing your back.

You eventually broke away, breathless, unable to meet his gaze, still painfully shy. He felt you curl into yourself a little, and hooked a finger under your chin to meet his gaze again.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Y/N. Merry Christmas.” Chris pecked a kiss to your nose, releasing you and offered his hand to escort you to the elevators.

“Merry Christmas,” you responded. The elevator cab opened, and you stepped inside, a small grin spreading across your lips as you bid him goodnight.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Chris smiled at you as the doors closed, and he called another elevator for himself to get him back to his room.

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The Hoes: @time-for-a-lullaby @kthynes @maroonsunrise83 @ysmmsy

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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.

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I’d imagine this is what the dress looks like! And Cait!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 love it

the boston brute series: pt. 10 (the haunted hollywood gala)

The Boston Brute Series: Pt. 10 - The Haunted Hollywood Gala

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. A toxic ex-boyfriend is involved in this part. Reader being insecure about looks. SMUT (voyeurism, fingering, unprotected, kind of rough sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), lots of dirty talk. 18+, please. Minors will be blocked.) This part actually has a lot of fluff, too! 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: 12.8k (LIKE DID I READ THAT CORRECTLY JESUS CHRIST)

A/N: GAH. THIS PART. So ready to see what you guys think of it!!! 

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.

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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“He asked you to do what?!” Chris asked in a hushed but harsh tone. 

You glanced around the hallway to make sure no one was around while you fumbled with the hotel lock. “Shh. Wait until we get inside.” 

“Y/N. What does getting inside have to do with anything? Me going into your room is more incriminating than asking you a question in the hallway.” Chris deadpanned, looking down at you before his expression softened at your flustered demeanor. “Princess.” He wrapped his hands around yours, holding them for a second before sliding the keycard from your grip and swiping it into the reader. The light flashed green and Chris pushed the handle down to open the door, ushering you inside. 

You turned to look at him. “Don’t be mad, please.” 

After you finally got to the hotel, you cornered Chris and pulled him to your room to talk to him about the gala and auction that Pearson had approached you about. You didn’t think he would be mad, but you could also understand if he was. 

His girlfriend was going to be in a dress and paraded around on a stage and someone else was going to pay money to take her out. Of course, he would be upset. 

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This man can throw me over his shoulder anytime!! Another great chapter Cait

arranged: pt. 6 (blindsided)

arranged - pt. 6 (blindsided)

mafia!Chris Evans x Female Reader

Series Summary: Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who  you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

Warnings: language, alcohol, arranged marriage (chris’s family signs contract with readers family that promises their first born daughter to their first born son), parental abuse mentioned, age gap. Reader is 25, Chris is 35. Guns, violence, blood. this series has smut (18+ only).

A/N: love me some angst ;)

W/C: 8.3k

Italian and Italian translation in italics. DISCLAIMER - I am not Italian and do not speak Italian, if there is something wrong or something not phrased correctly, PLEASE CORRECT ME! Huge shoutout to @chaelle for helping me with the italian translations :)

likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

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Lydia’s hands cupped your shoulders, pushing you back to do a once over, “Well, don’t you just look perky and freshly fucked!” 

“Jesus, Lydia!” You pulled away from her, smacking her arm before taking a seat across from her. 

She wasn’t exactly wrong. 

It’d been a couple of weeks since the night you told Chris you loved him and you guys had just about christened every surface in the house. The bathroom vanity, both dining room tables, the kitchen counter, the pool, his desk in the study…. A bookshelf… You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other and neither of you were bothered by that. He’d fucked you over the hood of his car just 20 minutes ago before the two of you parted ways. The man was insatiable. Although it definitely wasn’t one sided. Being with Chris was like having all the comfort of coming home after a long day, mixed with the adrenaline rush of jumping out of a plane coasting at   20,000 feet in the air. You couldn’t get enough either. 

Your eyes scanned the tables around you, hoping they were oblivious to the comment she’d just made, “Why are you like this?” 

A grin spread across her face as she swept her long black hair over her shoulder, “You love me.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes, smiling at your best friend. You studied her face for a second, her normally bright, vibrant, green eyes seemed tired, dull. If you didn’t know her so well, you wouldn’t have noticed the dark circles under eyes, strategically covered with concealer. You chewed on your lip for a second, your smile faltering, “Lyds… you doing okay?” 

She waved you off, taking a sip of the mimosa in front of her, “I’m fine.” 

“I’ve known you for like 22 years, what’s going on?”  

Her hands rubbed against her thighs as she shrugged, “It’s just– everything with Seb. I don’t know. It sucks.” 

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CAIT!!!!! Sex twice in a chapter!!

arranged: pt. 8 (detained)

arranged - pt. 8 (detained)

mafia!Chris Evans x Female Reader

Series Summary: Living in this life, you’ve never gotten to have much say in anything. What you wear, who  you hang out with, and now, who you marry and you’re dreading your arranged marriage to the Italian mob boss, Chris Evans. Expecting to suffer through a life of abuse while being kept under lock and key, you’re pleasantly surprised when Chris is nothing like you expected. He’s the most feared man on the East Coast, only brought to his knees by one thing and one thing only. You.

Warnings: language, alcohol, arranged marriage (chris’s family signs contract with readers family that promises their first born daughter to their first born son), parental abuse mentioned, age gap. Reader is 25, Chris is 35. Guns, violence, blood. Lots of smut (18+ only, minors DNI) and angst. 

A/N: the amount of feedback i’ve been getting on this series is blowing my mind. I love ya’ll, SO MUCH! Special shoutout to @blizzspeaks and @tis-thedamn-season again! This story wouldn’t be the same without your help.

W/C: 10.4k

Italian and Italian translation in italics. Disclaimer - I am not Italian and do not speak Italian, if there is something wrong or something not phrased correctly, PLEASE CORRECT ME! Huge shoutout to @chaelle for helping me with the italian translations :)

likes, reblogs, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated! ❤

series masterlist

time-for-a-lullaby masterlist

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE (i will not be going through comments or reblogs anymore for tag requests)

Fucking cliches. 

There you were, standing in the rain, black umbrella shielding you as it poured down around you. Your heels were starting to sink into the loose, muddy dirt as you watched your fathers casket being lowered 6 feet into the ground. Of course it was raining at this fucker’s funeral. 

Maybe it was metaphorical. The sky was shedding all of the tears that you couldn’t. The sky cried for the man you couldn’t give two fucks about. A man most people couldn’t give two fucks about. You rolled your eyes at your aunt who wailed as his casket was lowered, trying to remember the last time they even saw each other before his death. It’d been at least 7 years. 

If memory serves correctly, the last words they’d spoken were: “Ah, fuck you, bitch.” and, “You’re a piece of shit, Y/F/N.” Then radio silence. For years. 

Her 6th husband had his arms secured around her waist, holding her up as she feigned grief, making you roll your eyes again. 

Your mother told you at your grandmother’s funeral years ago that rain was ‘the heaven’s way of cleansing and washing away all sins of the deceased’. You hoped she was wrong because this fucker deserved the spot he had reserved for him in Hell. Right next to Satan himself. 

 Shifting on your feet, you pulled the heels out of the mud and let out a sigh of disappointment, “Fucking mud is ruining my shoes,” you whispered, Chris’s arm secured around your waist, keeping you close. 

He smirked, “I’ll buy you a new pair.” 

Your eyes rolled again, “Ruining a perfectly good pair of shoes for no fucking reason.” 

His smirk stayed plastered on his face as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your temple, “I think you’re supposed to be sad, Y/N.” 

“I am,” you deadpan, “About my shoes.” 

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Go and follow her! She is an amazing and talented writer!!!

almost there bitches

only 50 more followers! 

@time-for-a-lullaby , let me at them! You are one of the most down to earth likeable people ever!

Like i said if we can find them, we can toss them over the river on the east side!

okay i know i shouldn’t engage

i know i shouldn’t 

but i really wanna know, because i’m usually a pretty likeable person so if you don’t like me… i feel like it’s a you problem and not a me problem… 

so please tell me hahahaha

to the people who constantly send me hate and tell me that i’m garbage and my ideas are gross and shit and that you hate me…

why? like do you genuinely not like me for a good reason or are you just trolling around hahaha 

like i just want one valid reason why you don’t like me hahaha because i don’t think i’ve done anything for people to genuinely not like me.