#݁₊ ⊹ ݁�� ⋆ strcwbrryklss

[strcwbrryklss]

୨୧﹕ mustang .ᐟ part one

pairing ; au!nicholas chavez x fem!reader contains ; 80s alternate universe , slight smut ( makeout , undressing ) , enemies to lovers , getting caught. a/n ; this is based off of the aesthetic and time period of the ‘monsters’ show, but it is NOT based off of the menendez brothers. it is also based on ‘challengers’, specifically the tennis scenes. nicholas is a rich kid in the 1980s in this fic. summary ; after a competitive tennis match between y/n and nicholas, they decide to let their anger out in another way.

A TIE BREAKER is the last thing y/n needed for this match, and she could tell nicholas was furious too, swaying from side to side with his eyebrows furrowed, sweat dripping down his forehead slowly after a long game. it didn’t help that it was in the middle of a heatwave, and y/n’s legs had rubbed together so much that a chafing rash had began to form on her inner thighs. with every movement there was a burning sensation, but at this point she didn’t care — she wanted to make a point to nicholas, that she was better than him. she wanted to humble this rich boy so much, that looking at her in public would anger him.

so, pushing through the pain, y/n got into position and held the tennis ball against her racket, before looking nicholas in the eyes, unafraid of his intense gaze. and without a second thought, she threw the ball up into the air and hit it towards him.

with every grunt and hit of the ball from nicholas, y/n’s heartbeat raced. his muscles glistened in the sunlight as sweat drenched them. it was attractive, sure, but he wasn’t attractive. y/n could never imagine being attracted to him. the spoiled momma’s boy? no fucking way. it only fuelled her need to succeed, to show him who’s boss. so, as soon as she saw the chance, y/n hit the ball as hard as she could to the other side of the net, and without fail the ball bounced just before the baseline before bouncing once again out of the court.

nicholas just watched as he lost — he knew it would’ve been impossible to save himself from that.

as y/n and half of the audience cheered, nick agitatedly rubbed his temples with his left hand, trying to compose himself. this was until he shouted a loud “FUCK!” as he threw his racket on the ground.

y/n laughed at his outburst as they both walked up to the net, “is someone mad?”.

nicholas didn’t answer, putting his hand out for a short handshake. but, instead of letting go, he grabbed y/n’s hand tighter and pulled her in slightly, his eyes locked on hers. nick muttered under his breath, loud enough for only her to hear, “you’re fucking dead to me”, before pushing her hand away and walking off.

y/n furrowed her eyebrows. for some reason she felt hurt? it’s not that she liked him, or wanted him to like her. but that was just… mean.

after packing her things and thanking people for congratulating her, y/n began to leave the small stadium with her tennis bag slung over her shoulder. she walked into the parking lot, making her way towards her car and shoving her bag into the trunk before spotting another car — and she knew exactly who’s it was. the red 1965 ford mustang parked next to the lamppost, two rows from her car was obviously nicholas’.

y/n furrowed her eyebrows. wondering why he was still here, she decided to walk towards the car.

it seemed like nicholas didn’t realise she was walking up to his driver’s side window since he was looking down, eyes closed as he rubbed his temples in annoyance. the girl stood there for a while, pondering on how to get his attention before clearing her throat.

nicholas flinched before looking up at the girl who just beat him, her face in an awkward expression, “so..”

“no” he cut her off immediately, “fuck off”

y/n was taken aback by his rude remark before responding, “okay, no. stop acting like a fucking child”

“being annoyed about losing is acting like a child?” nick scoffed, opening his car door.

the girl moved to the side so he could get out, her arms folding as she leaned against the expensive car, “yeah, it is”

after he got out of the car, he crossed his arms, mimicking her. she had to look up to him now, as he towered over her with an annoyed smirk on his face, “it’s not my fault you’re a bitch”

“it’s not my fault you’re a sore loser” she retaliates, causing him to take a few small steps closer to her. y/n had to look even further up at him, actually seeing his face now as he blocked the sun with his head. the smell of his cologne mixed with sweat filled her lungs, which was strangely attractive to her.

nicholas spoke in a much softer, yet condescending tone than before, “sore loser, huh?”

“sore.” y/n got in his face, “loser.”

the two sat in the tension for a minute, just inches away from each other’s faces. nicholas inhaled her exhale, and she did the same with him. their eyebrows remained furrowed as they looked into each other’s eyes, filled with hate. you couldn’t tell if he was about to punch her, or kiss her.

that was until the tension broke as they both rushed to smack their lips together in a sloppy yet passionate kiss. nicholas wrapped his arms around y/n’s waist, roughly grasping her, as she moved her hands to his neck — one hand ran through his hair as the other dug her nails into his neck, causing him to let out a grunt, kissing her even rougher.

nicholas removed one of his hands from her body, reaching behind her for the door handle and opening the car door. they both swiftly got into the backseat of the car and slammed the door shut behind them, never breaking the kiss.

he then started placing sloppy kisses along her cheek and down her neck, letting y/n catch her breath as she reached for his biceps. she grabbed his muscles, getting flashbacks from when she observed them on the court.

abruptly, nick moved his hands from her waist to her thighs and pulled her in closer, placing himself in between her legs, causing y/n to let out a gasp. nicholas looked up at her, giving a playful smile which she returned before sharing another rough passionate kiss.

as he moved his hand up her tennis skirt, he lightly grazed his fingertips along her upper thighs. y/n’s body shivered at his touch before a sudden, loud knock on the window interrupted them both.

ah shit.

part i | part ii

[strcwbrryklss]

put me in a room with him and we’ll solve the low fertility rate in a day

i need nicholas chavez in more ways than one and i know plenty of people feel the same way; he should be travelling through countries and impregnating women, as to elevate the low fertility rate. he can't be acting.

[strcwbrryklss]

୨୧﹕ forgive me .ᐟ oneshot

pairing ; father charlie mayhew x fem!reader contains ; tension , smut ( oral m receiving ) a/n ; i rewatched fleabag season two and HAD to write this for my own sake ( also havent proofread this,, so just ignore any mistakes pls. summary ; it has been 160 days since your last confession.

the soft hum of hymns filled the stone walls of the church, echoing through the vast, candlelit space. the congregation sat quietly, hands folded in prayer or resting on their laps, their eyes fixed on the alter.

the heavy scent of incense hung in the air, weaving between the polished wooden pews, where you sat toward the back, trying to focus on the words of the sermon. the light from the stained glass windows poured in, casting delicate hues of red, blue, and gold across the congregation, illuminating the man at the front of the church.

father charlie.

your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at him, your fingers nervously gripping the edge of the pew. you had tried to stop coming to mass, but something always drew you back here—drew you back to him. each week, you told yourself it would be different. you would listen to the sermon, find solace in his words, and leave without this gnawing ache in your chest.

but it never worked.

father charlie stood at the altar, the bible held firmly in his hands as he delivered his message, his voice deep and smooth, filling the grand space with a quiet authority. his tone was soft, but it held power, a magnetic pull that kept everyone’s attention on him. but while the others listened intently to the words of faith, of virtue and devotion, your mind was far from holy thoughts.

your eyes traced the lines of his jaw, the way the sunlight caught in his brown hair, making the strands shine beneath the dim lighting of the cathedral. his features were sharp but kind, his strong brows furrowed in concentration as he spoke about resisting the temptations of the flesh.

temptation.

the word reverberated through you, sending a jolt of heat to your core. temptation, the feeling you knew far too well. father charlie’s hands moved as he gestured lightly with his sermon, and you found yourself imagining those hands on you, instead of the bible. you swallowed hard, pulse quickening as your thoughts drifted to places you knew they shouldn’t go, especially here — especially with him.

he was the very definition of unattainable, a man sworn to a life of celibacy, of purity. and yet, you couldn’t stop the thoughts that rushed through your mind every time you looked at him. every sunday, you sat in the same pew, feeling that same magnetic pull toward him, a pull you couldn’t explain and couldn’t resist.

his robes hung loosely on his tall, lean frame, the fabric shifting with each subtle movement he made. beneath them, you knew there was something stronger, something more human than the holy image he portrayed. and the thought of that made your stomach twist with desire.

you could barely breathe, the church suddenly feeling too warm, too confined. you bit your lip, eyes darting to the floor as you tried to steady your racing thoughts. this was wrong. so wrong. but you couldn’t help it. every word that came from his lips only seemed to make it worse, sending your mind spiraling deeper into a fantasy you had tried so hard to bury.

you imagined it so clearly now — being alone with him after the congregation had gone. the church would be empty, the candles burning low, the flickering flames casting long shadows along the stone walls. you would step toward him, heart pounding, and when your hand brushed his, you’d feel the heat of his skin, the tension between you palpable. he would hesitate, of course. his vows, his faith — they would hold him back for a moment. but then, in the quiet of the empty church, his restraint would finally break.

your pulse raced as the image flashed vividly in your mind: his hands on you, pulling you close, his lips crashing into yours with all the pent-up passion he had kept locked away for so long. the forbidden thrill of it sent a shiver down your spine, your breath coming faster as you quickly glanced back up at him, half-expecting to see him watching you, knowing your every sinful thought.

but he wasn’t. father charlie’s gaze was still fixed on the congregation, his words steady as he spoke about virtue, about control.

you looked across the church, towards one of the many paintings of god, his expression seeming almost disappointed. you felt a flush of guilt, heat rising to your cheeks. how could you sit here, in a place meant for worship, and think these things? how could you look at him — father charlie — and imagine him like that? it was wrong. but that only seemed to make the ache in your chest grow stronger, the desire burning hotter with each passing moment.

the service was drawing to a close, and your heart pounded as you realised you would soon have to face him. father charlie always stood at the door after mass, offering a handshake and a few kind words to each person who passed. every week, that brief moment of contact set your skin on fire, leaving you wanting more.

and then you saw him — father charlie, standing by the entrance, his eyes warm and kind as he greeted the parishioners. you swallowed hard, heart racing as you approached. his gaze shifted to you, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to blur at the edges, leaving only the two of you.

"god bless you, y/n" father charlie said softly, his voice sending a shiver down your spine as his hand extended toward yours.

you hesitated for the briefest moment, your breath catching in your throat as your hand slipped into his. his grip was firm but gentle, the warmth of his skin sending a spark of electricity through you. you looked up into his eyes, searching for… something. some sign that he could feel the same pull, the same tension that had been building between you for months. but his expression was as serene as ever, his smile kind and distant.

"thank you, father," you murmured, your voice barely audible as you let go of his hand, your fingers tingling where they had touched him, before turning around to leave the sacred building. however, you stopped in your tracks.

turning towards him, you spoke timidly, "actually, father.."

as you approached, father charlie glanced up and saw you, his warm smile instantly making your heart skip a beat. his dark eyes met yours, and you felt that familiar pull, a flutter in your stomach that made your knees weak.

"yes?," he responded kindly, his voice a calm, steady presence that filled the space between you.

"father," you began, your voice shaking slightly as you stepped closer. "i was wondering if… there’s any chance i could confess later?"

there. you’d said it. the words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you were certain he could see right through you — into your mind, your thoughts, your desires. you tried to keep your expression neutral, but the tension coiled in your chest made it nearly impossible to hide how nervous you were.

father charlie’s smile softened, a gentle, almost unreadable look crossing his face as he studied you. he took a small step closer, lowering his voice slightly as if sensing the weight of what you were carrying. "of course," he said, his tone compassionate, "confession is always available for those who seek it. Would you like to meet later this afternoon?"

the way he said it — just us — made your stomach flip. you nodded, unable to fully trust your voice at the moment. your throat felt tight, your thoughts tangled. "yes. that would be… good."

his gaze lingered on you for just a moment longer, his eyes holding yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. there was nothing inappropriate about it, nothing overt, and yet you couldn’t help but feel as if there was something deeper there, hidden beneath the surface of his composed expression. you tried to ignore the way your body reacted to it, the way your skin seemed to burn with the need for more than just words.

"come by around eight," he said, his voice soft but firm, as if he was giving you permission to unburden yourself in a way you hadn’t before. "we can speak privately in the confessional."

your heart raced as he said it, the reality of what you were asking for sinking in. it wasn’t just confession — not for you. It was a way to be close to him, a way to sit in that small, private space, separated only by the thin barrier of the confessional screen. the idea of it — of being so close, alone, with him — made your chest tighten with anticipation.

you swallowed hard, nodding again. "thank you, father," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he gave you one last kind, reassuring smile before you turned to leave, the echo of his words still ringing in your ears as you made your way toward the exit. as you stepped out into the cool air, your body still tingling with the thought of what was to come, your mind raced. confession wasn’t supposed to feel like this — like a secret thrill, a forbidden opportunity. but that’s exactly how it felt.

and it wasn’t just the confession itself. it was him. the way he carried himself with such calm authority, the way his voice seemed to wrap around you, pulling you deeper into your thoughts. you had tried to fight it, tried to deny it, but there was no use anymore.

you wanted him.

by the time the clock struck eight, you found yourself back at the church, your heart racing as you made your way inside. the church was mostly empty now, the quiet stillness of the afternoon wrapping around you like a heavy blanket. you could hear your own footsteps echoing softly as you walked down the aisle toward the confessional booth.

you hesitated for just a moment before stepping inside, the small, intimate space feeling even smaller than usual. the soft rustle of father charlie’s robes reached your ears as he entered the adjacent booth, and your breath hitched in your throat. the thin screen between you offered a sense of privacy, but it did nothing to stop the electricity that buzzed in the air.

"whenever you’re ready," came his voice, low and soothing, sending a shiver through you.

your mind raced, the words you had rehearsed suddenly seeming inadequate. how could you confess these feelings to him? How could you possibly admit that the sin you carried was him? the thought alone made your throat tighten, but you knew you couldn’t back out now.

"forgive me, father, for i have sinned…" you began, your voice shaky, barely more than a whisper, "it has been 160 days since my last confession"

you weren’t sure how you were going to get through this confession, but one thing was certain — the desire that burned inside you wasn’t something that could be easily absolved.

you hesitated, grappling with the words that felt so heavy on your tongue. "i've been having… thoughts," you started, feeling your cheeks flush. "sinful thoughts that i know i shouldn’t be having."

"sinful thoughts about someone?" he asked, his voice a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"yes," you admitted, heat creeping up your cheeks. "someone i shouldn’t be thinking about. i know it’s wrong, but i can’t help it."

"tell me more," father charlie encouraged, his tone gentle but firm, as if he could sense the struggle within you.

"it’s... complicated,” you continued, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. "i’ve been trying to push these feelings away, but every time i see him, it’s like i’m drawn to him in a way i know isn’t right."

"why do you believe these feelings are wrong?” he asked, and you could hear the slightest hint of tension in his voice, a challenge that made your heart race.

"because he’s... celibate,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "and i shouldn’t feel this way about him. but i do."

the silence that followed was deafening. you could almost hear the clock ticking, each second feeling like an eternity. you held your breath, waiting for his response, feeling the heat of your confession hang in the air between you, "i don't know what to do, father. these thoughts won't go away"

the scent of incense swirled around you like a comforting yet suffocating blanket. you could hear the soft rustle of the priest’s robes on the other side of the screen. he took a deep breath.

"kneel"

the unexpected command took you by surprise. your heart raced at the thought, a mix of anxiety and anticipation flooding your senses. "kneel?" you echoed, trying to process his words.

"i want you to kneel."

you hesitated for just a moment, but something in his voice compelled you to comply. slowly, you knelt before the screen, feeling the coolness of the floor beneath your knees. your heart raced, each beat echoing in your ears as you sensed the shift in the air around you.

the curtain opened slightly, and father charlie stepped into view, his expression unreadable. the light from the candle illuminated his features, and for a moment, you were taken aback by the intensity in his gaze. there was a hunger there, a spark that made your pulse quicken.

father charlie looked down at you, bringing his hand down to your chin and tilting your head upwards to look him in the eyes. as the moment hung in the air, your heart raced, a wild drumbeat echoing in your ears. you could feel the heat radiating between you both, a magnetic pull that left you breathless. anticipation coursed through your veins, mingling with a desperate thrill that made your pulse quicken.

unexpectedly, he leaned down, stopping only inches away from your lips, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. you looked down at father charlie's parted lips, before looking back up at his eyes, glistening in the candlelight. your thoughts raced, much more sinful than they were before.

and just like that, father charlie closed the gap between you in a slow but passionate kiss. it felt as if you were breathing each other's air, your fingers moving up and tracing his arm. he then pulled away. you almost followed him, desperate for more, but you couldn't.

looking up at him, your heart raced, a needy look in your eyes.

the sound of father charlie unbuckling his belt rang through the church; anyone who walks in would know what was happening. but you didn't care.

he unzipped his pants before pulling them down, just past his underwear, the thin fabric revealing his large bulge. your was mouth already salivating at the thought of it. father charlie looked down at you with a nod, giving you permission.

your fingers made their way towards his waistband, slowly curling underneath his clothing before slowly pulling them down, just enough to reveal his erection.

gasping slightly at the size of him, you hesitated, your heart quickening.

father charlie moved his hand to the back of your head, urging you.

you couldn't wait any longer. you took deep breath before licking his tip, the taste of his pre-cum giving you the need for more.

desperately, your mouth took as much of him as it could, causing him to let out a soft moan as his tip touched the back of your throat. you looked up at him. the sight of him looking down at you with so much lust, so much greed in his eyes caused your stomach to flutter.

he grabbed onto the back of your hair, lightly pushing you back and forth before picking up momentum. father charlie threw his head back in pleasure, before looking into your eyes once again.

you moaned as the pace grew faster, causing his eyebrows to furrow at the vibration. and with that, he released, the warmth of it running down your throat.

looking up at him with admiration, he smiled slightly.

you knew this wasn't the last time.

[strcwbrryklss]

୨୧﹕ photoshoot .ᐟ oneshot

pairing ; nicholas chavez x fem!reader contains ; yearning , tension , professional environment a/n ; new white boy of the month! summary ; as a professional photographer, y/n deals with beautiful people all the time, models of all statuses and charm. however, photographing nicholas chavez was not as easy when you can get lost in his eyes.

HAVE YOU EVER looked into someone’s eyes and known what they were thinking? even at the slightest glance? well, y/n could tell as soon as nicholas chavez looked into her lens, the way his gaze softened, or his pupils dilating slightly as he looked her way. it was nothing like she’d seen before. yeah, there were models in the past that had tried to subtly show off in front of her, flexing their muscles and giving the camera a sort of ‘look of lust’ — which was always extremely obvious, anyways. but nick, well, he seemed in awe.

although he was the one all ‘prettied up’, laid on a bed in front of her, shirt unbuttoned, nicholas was the one admiring her. there was something he found so beautiful about her concentration for her passion: when her eyebrows furrow as she looks through the lens, or even when she praises — not only him, but herself — as they get a good shot.

well, he may think she’s concentrating. in reality, y/n is getting increasingly annoyed at her wandering mind. with every look at the camera, or when their gaze meets for a split second, it almost feels as though she’s melting. his dark brown eyes were like a universe in itself, it was easy to get lost in them, especially when he is looking at her so desperately. it seems as if he is almost yearning for her — ‘wow’ she thought ‘he must be a good actor’.

along with that look, the position nick is in does not help. he sits on the edge of the bed, manspread whilst he leans back on his elbows. although he looks so desperate, his body language gives him some sort of dominance, unintentionally giving y/n butterflies.

“you’re very beautiful” nicholas says unexpectedly, catching y/n off guard, but not in a way that would creep her out, it seemed genuine.

she lets out a slight giggle before responding, “thank you” she says, continuing to take pictures.

she got closer, in need of some close up shots, too, and nicholas cooperated. however, forgetting to look at the camera, he starts to examine her face, “no, really. you should be the one in front of the camera” he laughs.

“you’re kidding” she rolls her eyes playfully as she smiles at him.

nick smiles back before nodding towards her camera, “come on”

“absolutely not” she laughs, backing away with her camera, “i cannot trust you with this”

“come onnn” he repeats, dragging out the last word, playfully pleading.

the two look at each other for a few seconds. he gives her a knowing look before putting his hand out, waiting for her to give him the camera. y/n thinks for a bit before rolling her eyes once more and handing him the camera and sitting down on the bed, “this is so unprofessional”

“shh” he responds jokingly, “i’m in charge now”

y/n laughs before sitting herself down onto the bed, “tell me what to do then, photographer”

“first of all, jacket off” nicholas points, “second of all, pose how you want”

“yes, sir” she responds sarcastically, taking off her jacket and throwing it behind him, revealing the white sundress she has been wearing underneath. unsure of what pose to do, y/n kept sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed as she leaned back on her arms.

nick began taking photos in a very playful matter, screaming “yes!”, “wow!” enthusiastically with each shot. y/n laughs, causing him to take a few serious shots whilst she’s in the moment. nicholas stops for a second, looking through the photos he just took, with a look of awe on his face and a slight smile, before looking up at her once again.

he then sits down next to her, showing her one of the photos: she’s grinning from ear to ear, eyes shut as sun-rays from the windows hit the sheets behind her, “see, beautiful” he says.

y/n smiles before looking into his eyes once more, realising that they look even better this close, and slowly, without even realising, they close the gap between one another with a soft kiss.

[strcwbrryklss]

PT 2 OF MUSTANG NEOWWWW

ok fine guys… i do as the masses plead

୨୧﹕ mustang .ᐟ part two

pairing ; au!nicholas chavez x fem!reader contains ; 80s alternate universe , tension , enemies to lovers , smut ( oral fem receiving , secret public touches ) a/n ; 1980s alternate universe where nicholas is a rich kid/tennis player alongside y/n. summary ; after a heated interaction in the back of nicholas’ mustang, tension arises between the two during a formal dinner party.

Y/N COULDN’T GET nicholas out of her head. the feeling of his gentle touch against the skin on her upper thighs, contrasted with his rough, passionate kissing. the smell of cologne mixed with sweat as they both breathlessly grasped onto one another. the sounds he made when she dug her nails into his back. she got butterflies just by thinking about it — but at the same time, it felt wrong.

the boy she was supposed to hate, the boy she despised until yesterday — he’s who she’s fantasising about?

it’s as if her world was flipped upside down, and sitting here now at this long dinner table, sat beside him, it was not doing her any favours.

this happens every year. for 46-year-old marie bardot’s birthday, her and her husband invite the whole neighbourhood for a large meal which is completely paid for by them (the only reason why everyone turns up). it was the kind of formal dinner y/n hated — endless chatter, delicate plates, and forced smiles. and to make matters worse, every single time she is seated to the left of nicholas alexander chavez. it was always a burden, really, but now she can’t tell if she’s enjoying it, or hating it even more.

they hadn’t looked up at each other once — maybe a glance or two, but not while the other was looking. nicholas nodded along as he ate his meal, listening to his father ramble on about something he really didn’t seem interested in.

y/n was extremely bored as her social butterfly of an older sister had conversations with almost everyone. she’d speak to her sometimes, asking for her input, “do you agree, y/n?”, to which she would respond with a “hm?” or a nod as she ate.

the first brush of his knee against hers came as a shock.

she blinked, thinking maybe it was an accident. the space under the table was narrow, after all. she shifted in her seat, determined to focus on the conversation with the family on the other side of the table that her sister was trying to engage her in.

but then it happened again.

this time, the contact was more deliberate. his knee pressing lightly against hers under the table, lingering for a second too long before pulling away. her breath caught in her throat, heart speeding up in a way she didn’t expect. not here, not now…

she dared a glance up, only to find him looking at his father next to him, completely unfazed as he listened to the conversation. if he noticed what he was doing, he didn’t let it show, but y/n wasn’t fooled.

the next time his knee grazed hers, her entire body tensed. this time, she didn’t move away. the contact was so subtle, but it sent sparks up her spine. her knee shifted slightly against his, testing the waters, her heart pounding as the pressure grew.

her eyes flicked up to him again, and their gazes met. nicholas’ expression remained neutral, but something flickered in his eyes — something teasing, something knowing. it was like a silent dare.

she didn’t pull back, she couldn’t. instead, she let her knee remain against his, feeling the warmth of his legs against hers.

and then, just as she was getting used to the subtle pressure of his knee, nick’s hand slid under the table.

her breath hitched as his fingers found her thigh, his touch slow and deliberate, the heat of his palm pressing against the thin fabric of her dress. it was so subtle, so hidden hidden from the view of everyone else at the table, but it felt impossibly bold. her skin burned where his hand rested, seeping through her body like wildfire.

y/n tensed, glancing quickly around the table to see if anyone had noticed, but everyone was too absorbed in their own conversations. nicholas’ face remained impassive, not giving away a single thing as his hand stayed on her thigh, his thumb tracing light, teasing circles against her skin.

the girl bit the inside of her cheek, torn between pulling away and staying exactly where she was. she was supposed to hate him, despise everything about him. but from their activities in the backseat of his car yesterday, and the feeling of his hand on her thigh right now, so possessive and confident, had her feeling things she wasn’t prepared to admit. it was infuriating how much she liked the sensation, the quiet rebellion of their bodies underneath the table whilst everyone remained oblivious.

she swallowed hard, her breath shallow as her pulse raced. his hand tightened just slightly on her thigh, fingers pressing into her flesh in a way that made her entire body tingle. she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t focus on the conversations happening around them. all she could think about was the pressure of his hand, the way his thumb stroked her skin, and how much she hated that she liked it.

he leaned slightly closer, his breath warm against her ear as he spoke in a low voice, too quiet for anyone else to hear. “i thought you’d move away by now.”

y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her face flushing as she tried to maintain her composure. she could say something snarky, something to put him in his place, but the words caught in her throat.

nicholas chuckled softly, the sound sending a ripple of sensation through her. his hand slid slightly higher on her thigh, fingers grazing the edge of her dress, sending another surge of warmth through her. she gripped the edge of the table, nails pressing into the wood as her breath came in short, shallow bursts.

“i knew you liked it,” he murmured, his voice smooth and infuriatingly confident.

her gaze snapped to his, anger flaring for just a moment, but it was swallowed by the heat of the moment, by the way his hand made her feel. she wanted to push him away, to make him stop, but at the same time, she didn’t. the thrill of it, the secrecy, the way her body was reacting to him—it was intoxicating.

“i hate you,” she whispered, her voice shaky but filled with conviction.

nick’s smirk deepened, his hand squeezing her thigh in response, “sure you do” before letting go and excusing himself.

the boy stood up next to her, sliding his chair back, that same infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. but now, there was something else there too: a challenge, a promise. his gaze lingered on her for a second too long before he turned and began walking towards the restrooms.

y/n stayed behind for a moment, her heart still racing. she should be furious, disgusted, even — but she wasn’t. not even close. if anything, she was intrigued.

and so, she then excused herself to her family before leaving for the restrooms.

the girl turned the corner, being met with the sight of nicholas. he swiftly cupped her cheeks and kissed her in a haste, being rough and passionate, just as she remembered.

“took you long enough” he said breathlessly between kisses as they made their way over to the family bathroom, opening and shutting the door behind them, making sure to lock it.

nicholas pushed y/n up against the wall, placing sloppy kisses on her neck once again as his hands ran up and down her dress.

“i’m a busy girl” she responded, causing him to chuckle against her skin, sending vibrations down her spine.

he pulled back, looking her up and down, admiring her, “you look so good in that dress”

“shut up” y/n spoke, grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him breathlessly as nick put his hand on her lower thigh, pulling it up towards his hips.

he then started kissing down her face and neck, taking his time at her breasts before getting down onto his knees, pulling her leg over his shoulder.

her breath hitched once more, and she cursed herself mentally for the way her body betrayed her, however looking down at him now, looking so desperate but dominant, part of her loved every second of it.

nicholas continued to look up at her, watching her every reaction as he began kissing her inner thigh. the sting of his touch against the chafed skin from yesterday sent a rush up her body, causing her to wince slightly before he moved further up her leg, eventually meeting her underwear.

y/n pulled her dress up, determined to be able to see his face. her heart raced before he began planting soft, intimate kisses on her clit, over her underwear. a slight gasp could be heard escaping y/n’s lips, causing nick to smile against her crotch as he continued to do this. he spoke in between kisses, “i can feel how wet you are already”.

the vibrations against her skin sent shivers down her spine. there was something about how wrong this was, that made it feel so right.

nicholas’ fingers made their way towards the waistband of her panties, and slowly pulled them down to her knees. she was exposed now, all for him to see.

her skin getting exposed to the cold air created goosebumps up her arms. he smirked, looking up at her before engulfing her cunt with his mouth.

y/n let out an unexpected moan, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. nicholas laughed, causing the sensation to become even bigger. she put her hand on his head, her fingers tangled in his hair as he began to use his tongue in circular motions.

she whispered, “fuck nick”, looking down to see him smirk as he looked up at her.

it didn’t take long until y/n came undone, her fingers now gripping his locks as her legs shook. nicholas used his hands to keep her balanced, one reached up to her breast while the other gripped her hip.

once she was finished, nicholas got up from his knees, pulling her underwear up for her. he then looked down at her, a mischievous smirk on his face, “still hate me now?”

part i | part ii

[strcwbrryklss]

PLEASE JOHNNY KNOXVILLE WRITERS I NEED SOME FLUFF OR SOME TENSION WITHOUT THE SMUT PLEAAAAAASE PLEASE PLEASE

why does everything needs to be smut u guys ?

im tireed of it

[strcwbrryklss]

Could u do a fic similar to ur mustang fic, but the storyline being she moves next to him and her brother and him get close cos her mum begins to become friends with his mum so she has to come over a lot and ends up being obsessed with him

୨୧﹕ privacy .ᐟ oneshot

pairing ; au!nicholas chavez x fem!reader contains ; 80s alternate universe , brother’s best friend , tension. a/n ; 1980s alternate universe where nicholas is a rich kid. summary ; after y/n’s family moves house, her neighbour (and brother’s best friend) catches her eye.

THERE’S SOMETHING SO attractive about a man who is forbidden. maybe it’s the fantasy of it: the yearning for something that is just out of reach. it’s almost as if you’re looking at him through a glass wall, but all you can do is look.

y/n laid on her bed in front of her window, looking into the house next door. coincidentally, nicholas’ bedroom window was opposite her’s. she wasn’t sure he realised yet, but she sure did, and the lack of curtains on his end didn’t help.

she’d glance outside her window for a moment sometimes and be met with the sight of him and a girl, a different one every time. and it’s not that y/n was nosey, but what type of jerk brings a new girl home every other day?

whatever, it was none of her business. her fingers absentmindedly twisted a strand of hair as her mind wandered. suddenly, the shrill ring of the house phone cut through the peaceful haze of her afternoon. she groaned, tossing the magazine aside, and reluctantly swung her legs over the edge of the bed. It was always a race to answer the phone before someone else picked up or, worse, before the answering machine clicked on. downstairs, she heard it ring again, and she bolted for the hallway.

her feet hit the marble steps, carefully rushing down them in order to not slip (trust me, she’s learned her lesson) as she took them two at a time, and she reached for the phone just as it rang a third time. the long, coiled cord dangled like a snake as she brought the heavy receiver to her ear.

“hello?” she sighed.

“hey, y/n, it's me,” her brother's voice crackled through the line.

the girl rolled her eyes. he had been out all day, probably hanging out with his basketball friends from down the street. “what do you want?”

“i, uh... i left my watch at the chavez'.”

“okay?” she leaned against the doorframe, already regretting picking up the call.

“in the bathroom,” he added sheepishly. “i kinda need you to go get it for me.”

y/n rolled her eyes. “you want me to go to the neighbors' house and ask them for your stupid watch?”

“please?” he sounded desperate. “mom’s gonna freak if she finds out i lost it again. it’s the one grandma got me, remember?”

y/n sighed dramatically, twisting the cord around her fingers. she hated doing her brother’s errands. “why don't you go get it?”

“i'm, uh, not really around right now.”

“not around?” she scowled, though she knew he couldn't see it. “what, are you in another dimension or something?”

“i'm at the arcade,” her brother admitted. “and i can’t leave right now i’m with someone”

y/n gasped jokingly before mocking him, “you’ve got a girlfriend, you’ve got a girlfri-”

“shut up” he responded.

“why don’t you ask nick?” she moved on.

“if i call their phone his mom might pick up and i’ll have to explain and then she might tell-” he rambled before being cut off by the annoyed groan of his sister.

she could practically hear the grin on his face, knowing he'd dodged responsibility again. she thought about arguing but decided it wasn't worth the effort. “fine,” she huffed. “but you owe me.”

“alright, thanks bye!” her brother said quickly, relief flooding his voice before quickly hanging up on her.

with that, she made her way across the manicured lawns toward nick’s place. his family’s house, a massive mediterranean-style mansion, was just a short walk away. she’d been over a few times for pool parties and get-togethers, but it was always when his parents were throwing some lavish event. now, though, it was quiet, and she wasn’t sure if anyone was even home.

the front door was open slightly, and y/n knocked, stepping into the cool air-conditioned hallway when there was no answer.

“nicholas?” she called out, but was greeted by silence, except for the distant hum of music playing from somewhere upstairs.

the girl figured he must be in his room or something, so she headed up the grand staircase, walking down the hallway towards the bathroom her brother had mentioned. the marble floors were cool beneath her feet, and the whole house had that expensive, freshly cleaned smell that only rich homes seemed to have. don’t get me wrong, y/n was rich, but not this rich.

as she reached the bathroom, the door was slightly ajar, steam seeping out into the hallway. before she could knock, the door opened, and there stood nick, freshly out of the shower, a towel hanging loosely around his waist, his skin still glistening with water droplets.

y/n froze.

his eyes widened, clearly just as surprised to see her. his hair was damp, hanging messily over his forehead, and the sight of him standing there, looking every bit like a golden god, left y/n momentarily speechless.

“y/n?” he said, his voice smooth but amused. “what are you doing here?”

she swallowed, trying to find her voice. “um, my brother… he left his watch here earlier. i came to get it.”

nick chuckled, leaning against the doorframe, his towel shifting dangerously low on his hips, revealing his very noticeable v-line. “ah, the infamous watch.” he nodded back toward the counter inside the bathroom. “it’s right there.”

she glanced past him and spotted the watch sitting next to the sink. but her eyes didn’t stay on the watch for long, not with nicholas standing right in front of her like that, all muscles and damp skin. she could feel her cheeks heating up, and she hoped he didn’t notice.

“thanks,” she mumbled, stepping forward to grab it, but not before catching the faint scent of his aftershave. it was intoxicating.

just as she reached for the watch, he shifted, his arm brushing against hers. she couldn’t help but look up, meeting his eyes, which were gleaming with that signature smirk of his.

“you know,” he said, his voice low, “you didn’t have to come all the way over here for that. i could’ve brought it over later.”

her heart was racing now, and she tried to play it cool. “i didn’t want to bother you”

nick raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “bother me? y/n, you’re never a bother, you’re my best friend’s sister after all.” his gaze lingered on her for a moment, the air between them thick with tension.

she quickly snatched the watch off the counter, stepping back. “well, i’ve got it now, so I’ll just…go.”

the boy chuckled, taking a step forward, his eyes never leaving hers. “you don’t have to rush off. why don’t you hang out for a bit? i was about to make some food, and i could use some company.”

she hesitated, the idea of staying here, alone with nick, both thrilling and terrifying. the way he was looking at her — like she was the only thing in the room that mattered — made it hard to think straight.

“i don’t know,” she said, biting her lip.

he grinned, stepping even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “come on, y/n. stay.”

it wasn’t really a question.

and before she could talk herself out of it, she nodded.

[strcwbrryklss]

nicholas chavez dressed as patrick bateman for halloween :)

[strcwbrryklss]

୨୧﹕ masterlist .ᐟ

݁₊ ⊹ ݁˖ ⋆ celebs

photoshoot .ᐟ - nicholas chavez oneshot mustang .ᐟ - nicholas chavez part one mustang .ᐟ - nicholas chavez part two privacy .ᐟ - nicholas chavez oneshot in your care .ᐟ - johnny knoxville oneshot

݁₊ ⊹ ݁˖ ⋆ influencers

lollipop .ᐟ - italianbach part one

݁₊ ⊹ ݁˖ ⋆ characters

forgive me .ᐟ - father charlie oneshot

[slavicangelmuah]

@littlelamylair @itneverendshere @strcwbrryklss

Actual footage of me patently waiting for my favorite author to upload😫😫😫

[strcwbrryklss]

ohhh babe😫

[strcwbrryklss]

i need nicholas chavez BAD

[strcwbrryklss]

୨୧﹕ in your care .ᐟ oneshot

pairing ; johnny knoxville x fem!nurse!reader contains ; tension , flirting a/n ; in love with this man. summary ; after a flirty patient comes into your care at the hospital, your job seems a little more bearable.

JOHNNY WOKE UP, an unbearable pain gripping at the back of his skull. clenching his eyes shut, he groaned at the sensation of his achy limbs that haven’t moved for around 12 hours. his hands were wrapped up in bandages, both broken and battered, along with his head, where he suffered a concussion.

this wasn’t new to johnny, actually, it was pretty regular. his ‘thing’ was being dumb, putting himself into danger as if it was a game, which, safe to say, ends up here. he’s lost count of the amount of times he’s ended up in the ER. matter of fact, he’s probably been in the exact same bed he’s in now ten times before this.

it’s the same-old, same-old. he stays for a few days, gets given meds, gets sent home, and doesn’t take the meds (not in the way he should, anyway).

“good afternoon” a cheery voice was heard after a short knock at his door, the face of a beautiful girl peeking out.

although it hurt, johnny mustered up a charming smile towards the nurse, “afternoon ma’am”

you smiled, walking in with a tray of breakfast, “i’ve got ya some dinner, let me know if you don’t like anything and i’ll change it for ya”. putting the tray down on the table, you moved it closer to johnny so he could reach.

“i don’t think i’ll be able to eat, doll” he responded with a small smile, moving his arms up and showing the nurse his wrapped up hands.

mentally face-palming, you spoke, “oh right, sorry, i’ll help”. you pulled up a chair beside his bed, “well, lucky for you, today’s special is mashed potatoes and mystery meat. i’ll make sure it’s top quality”

“lucky me” he murmured, eyes sparkling beyond his black eye, “i can’t even pretend to be disappointed. best day i’ve had this week, in fact”

rolling your eyes with a slight smile, you scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes, holding it out with practiced calm, “here ya go” you said gently.

as he leaned forward to take a bite, he kept his gaze locked onto you, “you know, i could really get used to this” he said, the words slightly muffled as he chewed, “a beautiful woman taking care of me? feels like something out of a rom-com”

you felt the warmth rise in your cheeks despite yourself, “i’m sure the novelty will wear off”, you said, pretending to brush it off as you prepared the next bite, “now, chew and swallow”

johnny snorted in amusement at the demanding words, his dirty minded humour taking over. you gave him a look, causing him to stop his immaturity’s.

“you’re very professional aren’t you?” he teased, eyes gleaming with mischief, “most nurses would have at least blushed by now”

“i’m just doing my job sir—”

“johnny, call me johnny” he corrected.

you nodded, changing the subject, “now, i think you’d like some of the… mystery meat…?”

“oh, i trust you, hun” he responded, shifting just slightly closer, his voice warm and low, “i trust you with my life, in fact”

“don’t get too dramatic” you said, unable to hide your smile as you brought a piece of the meat to his lips, “you’ll be outta here soon enough”

“only if you’ll visit me after” he murmured, taking a bite but never breaking eye contact. he chewed slowly, watching you with an intensity that made you stomach flip, “you know, you’re exactly what i imagined”

the nurse blinked, caught off guard, “what you… what?”

“you know, the whole ‘cute nurse taking care of me’ fantasy” he said, looking entirely too satisfied as he grinned at you, “i’ve been laid up in this bed for a while, and i’ll admit, i was hoping for someone exactly like you”

“you must still be concussed” you said, trying not to laugh, “i’m just here to make sure ya don’t starve to death while you’re recovering”

“well in that case” he smiled as he watched you scoop up another bite, “you’re doing a great job”

you could feel your cheeks getting warmer, but you didn’t dare break your professional facade. you could only keep up your calm exterior as you carefully fed him, listening to his endless, over the top compliments, and sidestepping his flirtatious glances. but the truth was, his charming southern drawl, easy confidence, and obvious amusement at your flustered responses — you enjoyed it. more than you wanted to admit.

when you offered him the next bite, he leaned just a little too close to your hand, catching your gaze as he murmured, “i think i’d heal faster if you were here everyday”

you swallowed, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. “you’re here for at least a few more days” you said, almost managing to sound casual, “so i’ll be around”

he smiled, a touch of softness in his gaze, “good. gives me a reason to look forward to meal times”

[strcwbrryklss]

nicholas in grotesquerie has me rewatching fleabag season 2

[strcwbrryklss]

guys i will not be writing for nicholas anymore as i do not support him due to his attitude towards the menendez brothers. thank you all for sharing and enjoying my fics<3

[strcwbrryklss]

“honey stickin' to your hands, sugar on the rim”

⋆˚࿔ 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ reader & writer , she / her , cuban + french , bisexual , dilf enthusiast , hopeless romantic

don’t remake my work without full permission or credits

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