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motherismotheringggg · 3 days ago

Note

I would love if you write some enemies to lovers for nicholas chavez and reader, it could be some like how to lose a guy in 10 days or 10 things i hate about you, something like that, with a happy ending, i dont know exactly, i just know that i love everything that you write ❤️

match point 🎾

summary: based on this lovely request!! i added a tennis element to it because tennis feels very “enemies to lovers” coded to me for some reason

type: nicholas chavez x black plus sized fem reader

tags/warnings: 18+, angst, misread fatphobia (i promise it’s not in there but i don’t wanna trigger anyway), oral (m! and f! receiving), face fucking, cream pie

word count: ~8493

author’s note: confession, i’ve never seen either of those movies and i know i need to!!! either way, i liked this bc im lowkey missing summer rn so this helped — i hope you like it!!!

taglist: @blackynsupremacy , @hoffmansgirl , @emluvsuxo , @ilovecheetahchrome , @nicholaschavezslut69 , @nicholaslut , @niteskysx , @melaninjhs , @pawofassumption

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The cicadas were already singing their lazy summer song when you arrived at the outdoor tennis courts, the air thick with humidity and the faint tang of freshly cut grass. The afternoon sun hung high, its rays bouncing off the court’s faded green surface and making the white lines shimmer like a mirage. You adjusted the strap of your bag, trying to ignore the way sweat was already pooling at the base of your neck, dampening the curls of your wash-and-go style.

This was supposed to be fun—a way to meet new people and settle into a city that still felt foreign and a little lonely. The open lessons had sounded perfect in theory, a casual way to break the ice while learning a new skill. But as you scanned the court, the pit in your stomach deepened.

Clusters of players were already warming up, their easy camaraderie apparent in the way they laughed and called out to one another. Most of them were lean, athletic types, the kind who looked like they spent their weekends hiking or doing yoga. You tugged at the hem of your tank top, suddenly hyper-aware of how it clung to your curves.

“Okay, let’s get started!”

The coach’s voice boomed across the court, drawing your attention. He was wiry and sunburnt, with the kind of leathery skin that suggested decades spent outdoors. A whistle hung around his neck, and his clipboard was already dotted with names and notes.

You moved toward the group, slipping into the back of the huddle as he began assigning partners. The air buzzed with excitement, punctuated by the rhythmic thwack of balls hitting rackets in the distance.

Just as you were beginning to relax, a low murmur rippled through the group. You turned in time to see a tall figure sauntering toward the court.

Nicholas Chavez.

He was the kind of beautiful that made you pause—messy dark hair, honey-brown eyes that seemed to catch the sunlight, and a jawline sharp enough to make you wonder if he’d walked off the pages of a magazine. He wore a black T-shirt and shorts, his broad shoulders and toned arms hinting at a strength that made it clear he wasn’t new to this.

As he got closer, he tossed a lazy glance toward the huddle, his gaze sweeping over the group. When his eyes landed on you, they lingered for a beat too long, and his brow twitched in a way that made your chest tighten.

“All right, let’s pair up,” the coach said, scanning his clipboard. His gaze landed on you, and you braced yourself. “Y/N, you’re with Nick.”

You forced a smile, clutching your racket like a lifeline. This was fine. You could handle this.

But the moment you looked back at Nicholas, you saw it: the flicker of hesitation in his expression, followed by the faintest lift of his brow. He didn’t say anything outright, but his reaction was loud enough. His gaze darted briefly to your shoulders, to the soft curve of your arms, before sliding back to your face with a faint smirk.

It wasn’t the smirk itself that stung—it was the way it felt so dismissive, like you were being appraised and silently deemed not worth the effort.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to catch.

Your stomach sank.

“Problem, Nick?” the coach called out, clearly catching the tail end of his remark.

Nicholas shrugged, spinning his racket lazily in one hand. “Nah,” he said, his voice smooth. “No problem.”

But as he turned and strode toward the far end of the court, his posture radiated a kind of casual arrogance that made your skin crawl.

The sun beat down mercilessly as you followed him to the court, your sneakers crunching against the gritty asphalt. By the time you reached the net, your irritation had reached a slow boil.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you said, trying to keep your tone even.

Nicholas didn’t respond, only gave a half-smile that somehow managed to be both infuriating and devastatingly attractive. He took his position without another word, and you adjusted your grip on the racket, determined to prove yourself.

But it didn’t take long for your annoyance to bubble over. Nicholas wasn’t even trying. He barely moved for volleys, his half-hearted swings making it clear he had no intention of putting in effort. When you lunged to keep the ball in play, your movements fueled by sheer determination, he had the audacity to let out a soft, amused laugh.

“Something funny?” you snapped, straightening as you glared at him.

He leaned casually on his racket, his honey-brown eyes glinting with something that made your pulse race—equal parts amusement and challenge. “You’re working pretty hard for this, huh?”

Your grip tightened. “That’s kind of the point,” you bit out. “It’s called practice.”

“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “But, you know, maybe you should pace yourself. Wouldn’t want to tire out too quickly.”

The words were innocuous enough, but the way his gaze flicked over you as he said them wasn’t. Your jaw clenched as heat rose to your face, though you weren’t sure if it was anger or embarrassment. Probably both.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said tightly. “I can handle myself.”

“Yeah?” His smirk widened, dimples flashing in a way that made you want to scream. “We’ll see.”

The last few volleys of practice felt like an eternity. The summer sun bore down relentlessly, baking the court and leaving a faint sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. Every muscle in your body ached, and each swing of your racket felt heavier than the last. Meanwhile, Nicholas moved across the court with maddening ease, barely breaking a sweat, his shots precise but lazy, like he wasn’t even trying.

“Good game, everyone!” the coach called out, blowing his whistle to signal the end of practice. Relief washed over you as you dropped your racket and grabbed your water bottle from your bag.

You lowered yourself to the ground with a graceless plop, sitting cross-legged near the sidelines and taking long gulps of water. The cool liquid was a godsend, but the heat still clung to you, making your skin feel sticky. You fanned yourself with one hand, trying to keep your breathing steady.

No one’s looking at you. Relax.

You repeated the mantra in your head, reminding yourself that you weren’t being perceived in the way your mind sometimes tricked you into thinking. Your confidence had always been solid—a hard-earned love for your body and all it had carried you through—but moments like this, when your stamina was stretched thin and the exhaustion was visible, made it easier for doubt to creep in.

“Mind if I join?”

The voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see one of the other players—a girl around your age with a friendly smile and braids pulled into a high ponytail—gesturing to the space next to you.

“Go for it,” you said, gesturing for her to sit.

She plopped down beside you, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I don’t know about you, but I’m dying out here. Who decided it was a good idea to play tennis in the middle of July?”

You laughed, grateful for the distraction. “Right? I feel like my shoes are melting into the court.”

“I’m Taylor, by the way,” she said, extending a hand.

“Y/N,” you replied, shaking it.

The two of you quickly fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, talking about everything from how intense the coach seemed to the best food spots in the city. Taylor’s humor was sharp and quick, and it wasn’t long before you were laughing so hard your sides ached more than from practice.

Just as you were starting to forget your earlier frustration, a shadow passed over you.

“Take it easy.”

You looked up to see Nicholas strolling by, his racket slung over his shoulder and a water bottle in hand. His tone was light, almost lazy, but the smirk tugging at his lips said otherwise. He didn’t stop walking, didn’t even look back as he delivered the remark.

Your jaw clenched, heat rising to your face—not from the sun this time, but from irritation.

“Is he always like that?” you muttered, glancing at Taylor.

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, that’s just Nick. He’s kind of a jerk to everyone.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, standing up and brushing off your legs, “he’s got it down to an art.”

-----

The next practice was even hotter than the first, the summer sun relentless as it beat down on the courts. The air shimmered with heat, and the faint smell of sunscreen mixed with the tang of tennis balls and sweat. You showed up determined to ignore Nicholas entirely, but, unsurprisingly, he made that impossible.

It started when the group was working on backhands. You’d gotten the general motion, but the finer details still felt awkward, and after a few failed attempts, you lowered your racket and turned to the coach. “Sorry, can you show that one more time?” you asked.

Before the coach could answer, Nicholas let out a low whistle, leaning lazily on his racket. “Guess they’re really starting from scratch, huh?”

The words hit you like a sharp jab, and your grip tightened on your racket. Your stomach twisted, but you forced yourself to ignore him, even as irritation bubbled beneath the surface. Instead, you focused on the coach’s demonstration, determined not to let Nicholas’s snide comment throw you off.

Later in practice, you managed to land a sharp, satisfying volley during a rally. The ball skimmed over the net and landed squarely out of Nicholas’s reach. Pride swelled in your chest—until Nicholas turned to the coach, throwing his hands up dramatically.

“Look at that!” he called out, his smirk deepening as dimples framed his maddeningly smug expression. “She hit one!”

Laughter rippled faintly through the group, but all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears. Heat crawled up your neck as you turned away, focusing on retrieving the ball and forcing yourself not to react. You clenched your jaw, gripping your racket so hard your knuckles ached.

By the end of practice, you were drenched in sweat, your tank top clinging to your skin, and your curls puffing out in defiance of the humidity. The exhaustion weighed heavy in your limbs, but all you could think about was getting out of there. You had plans to meet Taylor for dinner after, and every second spent on the court felt like it was cutting into your evening.

You tossed your racket into your bag and slung it over your shoulder, ready to bolt, but in your rush, the strap snagged on the bench. The zipper popped open, spilling your belongings onto the ground. Your water bottle rolled a few feet away, sunscreen and a spare shirt landing in a messy pile alongside the small notebook you used to jot down practice tips.

“Need some help?” Taylor asked, crouching down beside you.

“Thanks,” you muttered, hurriedly grabbing your sunscreen as she handed it to you. You scrambled to gather everything, feeling the heat from the court radiating through the soles of your shoes.

Before you could finish zipping up your bag, a shadow loomed over you.

“Careful,” Nicholas said, his voice light and casual, but with that familiar edge of condescension. “You’d probably move faster if you lightened your load a little.”

Your head snapped up, and before you could stop yourself, the words came out: “You’d probably move faster if you actually tried during practice instead of standing around acting like you’re too good for the rest of us.”

The air grew still, the quiet hum of cicadas the only sound as everyone turned to look at you. Your chest heaved as the words hung in the air, hot and sharp, your frustration boiling over in full view of the group.

Nicholas paused for a moment, then tilted his head slightly, his lips quirking into an infuriatingly lazy smile. “The heat’s getting to everyone, huh?”

A few of the other players chuckled awkwardly, but your glare didn’t waver. He didn’t even seem fazed, casually slinging his racket over his shoulder like nothing had happened.

“See you next time,” he said, his voice light as he turned and strolled off, leaving you standing there with your fists clenched.

Taylor rose to her feet beside you, muttering under her breath. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“I know” you said, your voice tight as you choked back tears, while you zipped up your bag and slung it over your shoulder.

As you walked off the court, your mind raced. No one had ever been able to needle you like this before, and it wasn’t just frustrating—it was confusing. You weren’t sure what Nicholas’s problem was.

-----

You decided to skip the next practice. You told yourself it was to give your body a break from the brutal summer heat and all the drills, but deep down, you knew the real reason: Nicholas Chavez. His smirks, his snide comments, the way he always managed to needle you just right—it had all been too much. You needed a breather.

Still, the itch to move lingered. By the evening time, when the sun had finally dipped enough to make the air bearable, you headed to the gym near the courts. You timed it perfectly, arriving after practice would’ve ended and to ensure no one else would be there.

The place was empty, just the quiet hum of the overhead fans and the rhythmic thump of your sneakers against the polished floor. You felt freer here, confident enough to shed your usual layers. In your sports bra and athletic shorts, you stretched, tying your curls up into a puff before grabbing your racket.

You put on your headphones and cranked up the volume, letting the beat drown out the world as you stepped onto the court. You started with easy volleys, but it didn’t take long for your pent-up frustration to bubble up. With every swing, you hit the ball against the wall at full power and speed, the sharp crack of impact echoing in the empty space. Each hit felt like a release—a way to channel all the irritation that Nicholas had stirred up in you.

You were in the zone, so focused on the rhythm of the ball and the music blasting in your ears that you barely noticed someone calling your name. It wasn’t until a break between songs that the sound finally cut through.

You froze mid-swing, turning to see none other than Nicholas standing near the entrance, his bag slung over one shoulder.

Of course.

You yanked back one side of your headphones, your annoyance flaring immediately. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, walking toward you with that infuriatingly easy confidence.

You glanced at the clock on the wall. Practice had ended two hours ago. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Gym’s empty, thought I’d get a quick practice in,” he continued, his tone casual. Then, with a tilt of his head, he added, “Didn’t mean to interrupt. You were really going at it.”

You rolled your eyes, already tempted to pack up and leave. But before you could move, he gestured to your racket.

“You’ve got a killer forehand,” he said, his voice laced with a hint of genuine admiration. “I saw that last one before I came in. Honestly… I wouldn’t mind if you showed me how you did it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. But the irritation was still simmering, and it bubbled over before you could stop yourself.

“Are you joking?” you said dryly. “You’ve been absolutely insufferable since the moment I met you. You’ve made me feel weird and out of place every single practice, and now you’re acting like none of that happened?”

Nicholas raised his hands, palms out, as if in surrender, but there was a flicker of something in his expression—amusement. He chuckled under his breath, which only made your temper flare more.

“And if you have a problem with fat girls,” you said, your voice sharp as you stared him down, “then just say it.”

The laugh died on his lips. For the first time since you’d met him, Nicholas looked caught off guard. His brows furrowed, and he shook his head quickly. “Wait—what? No. That’s not—”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I never meant to make you feel like that. I swear. I was just… being an idiot. Trying to be funny, I guess. Clearly, I failed at that.” His voice softened, and then he added, “For what it’s worth, I don’t have a problem with you. At all. You’re…” He hesitated, his gaze sweeping over you for a moment. “You’re hot. And you’ve got a killer body. I mean that.”

You blinked, stunned into silence. Of all the things you’d expected him to say, that hadn’t even been on the list.

For a moment, you just stared at him, your fiery temper cooling as his words settled in. There was something about the way he said it—cool and flirty, sure, but also sincere—that left you completely disarmed.

Finally, you exhaled and nodded. “Okay. Apology accepted.”

Nicholas smiled, this time a smirk of surrender rather than that familiar smirk as he took a step back toward his bag. “Guess I’ll leave you to it, then—”

“Wait.”

He paused, glancing over his shoulder as you crossed your arms.

“You almost made me cry you know,” you said, your tone light but teasing. “So I think you owe me. In the form of walking me home—after I show you the move.”

His smirk widened, and he stepped back onto the court. “Deal.”

The two of you spent the next fifteen minutes practicing together. Nicholas was attentive, actually listening as you explained the technique, and for the first time, it felt… easy.

When the session ended, you walked side by side through the quiet streets, the summer air cooler now that the sun had set. The conversation flowed effortlessly—where you were both from, your favorite songs, the best smoothie spots after practice. By the time you reached your apartment building, you’d almost forgotten the Nicholas who’d made practice so unbearable.

There was a moment of silence as you stopped in front of your door. Nicholas glanced down at you, his honey-brown eyes warm under the glow of the streetlights.

You tilted your head, standing on your toes to get a little closer. With a smirk, you said, “And if you thought one itty bitty overdue apology was going to get me, you really need to get out more.”

Before he could respond, you patted him on the shoulder, turned, and headed inside.

“Good night, Nick,” you called over your shoulder.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Good night, Y/N.”

-----

Over the next few weeks, something shifted between you and Nicholas. The jabs weren’t as sharp anymore, and the underlying venom had slowly been replaced by something else—something more playful, teasing, but still competitive.

You found yourself walking to practice together more often, your casual banter now peppered with teasing remarks, both of you pushing each other to be better. There was no denying that your attraction to him had grown—you’d try to shake it off at first, convincing yourself that the snarky, flirtatious back-and-forth was just that. But deep down, you knew it was something more.

Sometimes, after practice, you both stopped for smoothies. The conversation was easy, as if you’d known each other for years. You found yourself drawn to his dry humor, the way he would effortlessly make jokes even about the smallest things. You’d roll your eyes, but inside, you were smiling. There was a charm to him that you couldn’t quite ignore.

But despite the playful comments and flirtation, there was still a part of you that couldn’t tell if he was just being his usual cocky self or if there was something deeper there. After all, he’d told you that you were hot and even almost kissing you—yet it never felt like enough to confirm that he liked you back.

One afternoon, after practice, the two of you decided to hang back for some extra practice, the court still warm from the sun. The air was heavy with the scent of summer, but you were both determined to squeeze out a little more work. After a while, you both collapsed on the ground, breathless from the intensity.

As you went into your cool-down stretches, you groaned, stretching out your legs. “My legs are so tight,” you muttered, rolling your shoulders to relieve some of the tension.

Nicholas, ever the opportunist, watched you for a beat before giving you a crooked grin. “You know, I can help with that.”

You raised an eyebrow, but before you could respond, he was already moving to you.

“Lay on your back,” he instructed, and you did so without thinking.

He positioned himself between your legs as he gently lifted your right one, and pushed it back toward your chest. The strain on your muscles felt good, but the proximity of him only added to the tension. He didn’t seem to notice—at least, you hoped he didn’t—but when you let out an involuntary moan as your muscles stretched, the sound echoed across the empty court.

You froze, eyes widening, your face flushing with embarrassment. You quickly laughed to cover it up. “Echoing like that is crazy” you muttered, trying to brush it off.

Nicholas, ever the one to make light of the situation, chuckled. “Noted,” he said, voice teasing, his grin wide. “Definitely a screamer.”

You shot him a playful glare, but the heat from his words lingered as you pushed him off, “You’re so gross,” you gave him a playful nudge, finishing the stretching on your own.

The teasing didn’t stop there. A few days later, after another long practice, you and Nicholas were gathering your things when he said, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, “I’ll be waiting for you in the shower, Y/N.”

No one knew the brewing tension between you too and just assumed Nicholas was his typical joking self, causing everyone to burst into chuckles.

Taylor, standing beside you, nudged you playfully. “Oh, come on. You gotta give me the details,” she whispered, practically bouncing with excitement.

Before you could answer, one of the older women on the team—Barbara, a rich and eccentric lady with a flair for drama—stepped forward, her eyes twinkling. “My pool was just refinished,” she announced grandly, hands raised as if unveiling a masterpiece. “And I’m throwing a little party this weekend to celebrate. You’re all invited!”

The room went silent for a moment before the chatter picked up again, everyone was excited about the prospect of a pool party, but you were still stuck on what Nicholas had said. His voice echoed in your head, making your pulse race.

---

You and Taylor slid into one of the cozy booths at your favorite smoothie place, the smell of fresh fruit and the hum of casual conversations filling the air. Taylor was practically bouncing in her seat, eyes wide with excitement as she shoved her açaí bowl aside and leaned forward, giving you her full attention.

“So, wait,” she said, eyes locked on yours. “You moaned out loud!?” She looked at you in disbelief, almost spitting out her bowl as she struggled to keep it together.

You nodded slowly, fighting back a laugh as she tried to process everything. “Yeah, it was—uh, kind of an accident.”

“No!” she gasped, her voice rising a little too loudly for the cozy shop. “You two almost had sex on the court!”

You quickly shushed her, looking around to make sure no one had overheard. You were already feeling the heat of your embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Shh! Taylor, you’re gonna get us thrown out,” you hissed, barely able to hold back your own laughter.

Taylor put her hand over her mouth, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief. “Sorry, sorry,” she whispered dramatically, though she was clearly struggling not to laugh.

“But I don’t know what to do. He’s so confusing, Tay.” Your face was hot as you tried to steady yourself.

Taylor raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat. “Babe, what’s confusing? He so clearly wants you to ride him like it’s no tomorrow!”

You rolled your eyes as a smile tugged at your lips, “I don’t know, he’s hot but am I really gonna fuck a go I met at club tennis?”, you picked up your smoothie to sip.

There was a pause between you two before unanimously responding,

“Yes”

You both burst into laughter, the patrons of the smoothie shop, including a family with a small child, shot you both looks.

“Okay, okay, here’s what I’m thinking.” Taylor shot up straighter, practically bouncing in her seat now. “After the pool party this weekend, we’ll come back to your apartment, hang out for a while. Then I’ll slip out and leave you two alone. You won’t have any distractions, and you’ll be in your space. So it’s just you, him.”

“You’ve thought about this, huh?” you shot her a slick look, eyes squinted with a smile.

“From the second you two were paired up, yes!” she grabbed uo Nike duffel bag and smoothie, Shooting up from the booth, “Come on, let’s go bikini shopping!” she called out from the shop door.

------

You and Taylor arrived at Barbara’s house, pulling up to the towering gates of a mansion that could only be described as extravagant. As you drove through the gates, you couldn't help but marvel at the meticulously manicured grounds, the sprawling lawn, and the grandiose architecture.

The house itself was a statement of wealth—an impressive Mediterranean-style villa complete with marble pillars, wide open terraces, and windows so large they almost felt like walls of glass. Barbara’s backyard was even more ridiculous, the pool area a luxurious oasis, with a hot tub, waterfall features, and a fully equipped outdoor kitchen. The scent of freshly grilled food wafted in the air, and the sound of music played from outdoor speakers, giving the entire scene a carefree, almost surreal vibe.

You and Taylor were among the first to arrive, but a few other teammates were already there, mingling and laughing by the pool. You couldn’t help but notice the energy—everyone was in high spirits, laughing, talking, and basking in the summer warmth. You and Taylor dropped your things by a lounge chair, and she immediately began making suggestions about your outfit, insisting you needed something to grab Nicholas’s attention.

“Trust me,” Taylor said, eyeing you up and down. “If Nicholas doesn’t jump on you the second he sees this, he’s an idiot.”

She was referring to the white bikini set you were wearing, with cute red cherries printed all over the top and bottom. You had picked it out impulsively, but Taylor’s enthusiasm made you feel even better about the choice. You stripped off your cover-up and walked toward the pool with Taylor at your side, trying to keep the nerves at bay. Music played from the speakers as people were already enjoying the pool, splashing around and lounging under the sun. The air smelled like sunscreen, chlorine, and summer—the perfect atmosphere for a party.

You felt the cool water on your toes as you entered, your body immediately relaxing. The food spread was tempting, and the drinks were flowing, but your attention kept drifting to the entrance. You kept glancing back toward the gate, waiting for him to arrive. Every time someone walked in, your stomach dropped, thinking it was Nicholas. It wasn’t. And the anticipation was starting to feel almost painful.

Then, he finally walked in.

It was as if he stepped through the door in slow motion—his entrance completely owning the room. Nicholas was wearing nothing but a pair of trunks, no shirt, and damn, he looked incredible. His body was... perfect. His abs were defined, his chest was bulky but still ripped, the muscles in his arms were sharp, and even the way his trunks hung just low enough made your heart skip a beat. You wanted to look away, pretend like you weren’t even interested, but it was hard to ignore someone who looked like that.

You quickly turned your attention to the people around you, trying to act like you hadn’t just caught sight of him walking in. You didn’t want to seem eager, even though your stomach was flipping with the idea of what was about to happen.

It wasn’t long before Nicholas made his way toward the pool, walking over to the edge closest to you. He kneeled down, his eyes locking onto you as he flashed that trademark smirk, the one that made your chest tighten.

“So, how’s the water?” he asked, his voice smooth but with an edge of humor, as his eyes roamed and settled on your breasts as they bobbed in the water creating small waves.

You didn’t want to show how much his attention affected you, so you smirked back and shot a casual reply. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” You gestured to the pool with a mischievous look, inviting him to join you.

He took your cue, tossing his towel to the side and stepping into the water, the ripples spreading outward as he made his way toward you. There was no hiding the fact that you both had a simmering tension, but neither of you was willing to be the first to acknowledge it outright. You exchanged jabs and playful comments as you stood in the shallow end, water splashing around your legs.

After a while, Nicholas shifted, making his way deeper into the pool. You hesitated, not really a strong swimmer, and preferred to stay where you could touch the bottom.

“You coming?” he asked, his tone teasing, eyes glinting with that same challenge you were so used to.

“I’m good here,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You go ahead.”

“You think I’d let anything happen to you?” he said with a wink. “I’ll keep you safe.”

There was something in his eyes that made it hard to say no. Reluctantly, you nodded. He extended his hand toward you, and you took it, letting him help you deeper into the water. The further you went, the higher the water got, eventually reaching just below your chin. When it was too deep for you to touch the bottom, he pulled you close, his chest pressing against yours in an embrace that left you breathless.

Before you could react, you instinctively wrapped your legs around him for support, and his arms came around your waist, pulling you in closer. You could feel his abs press against your stomach, his chest tight against yours, and—damn—it was hard to ignore the feeling of his body against yours, especially when you could feel him getting hard against you.

“Whoa,” he chuckled, his voice low and smooth as his hands settled around your waist. “Right here? In front of everyone?.” His tone is laced with the sarcastic tone that turned you on.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. “I’m just trying to make sure I don’t drown, if i don’t want mouth-to-mouth from you”

Nicholas grinned, and the heat in his eyes made you feel like he was already undressing you with his gaze. “Well you rejected me once…,” he said, pulling you in closer, the muscle in his chest pressing against your stomach. His breath was steady, but you could feel his pulse quicken as he looked down at you.

You tried to ignore the way his body felt so firm and close to yours, focusing instead on your usual digs. “And yet, you clearly love a chase” you asked, tilting your head with a smirk.”

His lips quirked up into a smile, his eyes catching yours. “It’s not so much a chase at this point,” His grip tightened around your waist, and you could feel the subtle pressure of his muscles beneath the water. “The way your legs are wrapped around me right now…I thought I’d have to work a lot harder for that.”

You paused as your heart skipped a beat. You shot him a playful glare, “I actually don’t have a comeback for that,” your tone feigned a playful retreat. “But I wanna grab some of the fruit salad so can you carry me back to the edge stud?”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching as if to suppress a laugh. “Well you’re losing with such grace, it’s the least I could do,” he said, his tone just slick enough to make your cheeks warm.

With an almost effortless motion, he floated you back toward the shallow end of the pool, the cool water rippling around you both. As soon as your feet touched the floor, you shifted to stand, but not before leaning in closer for one last jab.

You tilted your head toward him, lowering your voice just enough for only him to hear. “Oh, and by the way,” you said, smirking as you pushed a curl out of your face, “I wouldn’t say you’ve ‘won.’ The second I wrapped my legs around you, you were hard enough to poke a hole in my side.”

His breath hitched, his smirk faltering just slightly as his eyes widened in surprise. Before he could even process what you’d said, you winked and turned, pulling yourself up out of the water.

The air hit your skin, and as you stepped out, the droplets of water cascading down your body caught the sun, making your skin look like it was glowing. Your plush thighs flexed slightly with each step, your full hips swaying effortlessly as the cherry-printed bikini clung perfectly to every curve. Your stomach, soft and inviting, peeked out between the swimsuit pieces, the water droplets trailing down like a path Nicholas couldn’t help but follow with his eyes.

He swallowed hard, his blush deepening as his gaze lingered, clearly torn between being turned on and completely dumbfounded by your boldness.

You grabbed your towel, wrapping it loosely around your waist as you glanced back at him, your lips curling into a small, knowing smile. “Have fun cooling off, Nick,” you said over your shoulder, your voice light and teasing as you walked toward the fruit table.

Nicholas stood there for a moment, chest still heaving slightly as he watched you disappear into the crowd. “Damn,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head with a faint, incredulous smile.

----

The backyard was buzzing with conversation and laughter as everyone ate, spread out across the lawn. The sun had slipped behind a layer of clouds, casting a muted gray light over Barbara’s extravagant outdoor setup. The clouds grew heavier, and though rain wasn’t in the forecast, everyone kept a wary eye on the sky.

You and Taylor sat together near the edge of the patio, chatting while finishing your burgers. Taylor leaned in, her tone playful. “So,” she started, waggling her eyebrows, “Are we gonna talk about you and Nicholas basically dry-humping in the pool earlier?”

You choked on your laugh, covering your mouth as you shook your head. “Taylor!” you said through a fit of giggles. “We were not!”

Taylor smirked, shrugging as she took another bite of her food. “Could’ve fooled me. You were all wrapped up around him like a koala.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Okay, fine. But I think it’s going well. He’s definitely into me,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Taylor grinned, pleased. “Good! Finally!” she said, clinking her drink against yours. She started to ask what time you thought you should leave, but before she could finish, the sky opened up, and fat raindrops began to fall.

The peaceful scene turned into chaos as everyone scrambled to grab their things and get inside. Barbara, ever the eccentric host, ushered everyone toward the house, waving her hands dramatically as she shouted instructions. By the time you made it inside, you were damp from the sudden downpour, but at least you’d saved your plate.

Inside, everyone piled into the living room, which was decorated with retro, ’70s-inspired furniture. The centerpiece was a sunken conversation pit, complete with vibrant orange cushions and a massive coffee table in the middle.

Barbara clapped her hands together, her jewelry jangling with the movement. “Well, that was unexpected! I’m absolutely exhausted from hosting, so I’m heading upstairs,” she announced, sweeping a hand toward the stairs. “Feel free to hang out or head out whenever. Make yourselves at home!”

She disappeared in a flurry of gold bangles and silk, leaving the rest of you to settle in. The team naturally split into smaller groups, conversations bubbling up in various corners of the room. Nicholas wandered over and plopped down next to you and Taylor on the oversized cushions.

It didn’t take long before the two of you were completely in sync, your bodies naturally gravitating toward each other. At one point, your legs were thrown casually over his lap, his hand resting on your calf as you both laughed about something Taylor had said. Later, he laid down with his head in your lap, and without thinking, you ran your fingers through his hair, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers. When he sat back up, you leaned against his shoulder, his arm brushing against yours, the closeness sparking something you couldn’t ignore.

At some point, Barbara’s husband asked Nicholas to help bring in some of the grilling supplies left outside. He reluctantly got up, leaving you and Taylor alone.

Taylor didn’t waste a second, leaning in with a grin so wide it practically split her face. “This is happening! I knew it!” she whispered excitedly.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress your smile. “Okay, fine, it’s happening. But don’t make it weird.”

Taylor waved you off. “When he gets back, we should all head out—leave you two alone to keep this momentum going.”

You were about to agree when your phone buzzed. It was a text from Nicholas.

Nicholas:

Hey, I think someone left their purse outside. Is it yours?

You frowned, intrigued, but got up to check it out. You told Taylor you’d be right back and headed down the hallway toward the kitchen, which led to the back patio.

But just as you passed the guest bathroom, a hand reached out and gently grabbed your arm, pulling you inside.

Before you could even react, the door clicked shut behind you, and you found yourself pressed against it, your back meeting the cool wood. Nicholas was standing inches away, his chest brushing against yours with each shallow breath. His eyes bore into yours, warm and intense, and you could feel the heat radiating off him in the confined space.

Your voice low and teasing, “That was a pretty smart text. Almost convincing.”

His lips curved into that familiar smirk, and he leaned in just enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice rough and dripping with confidence. “I do like the chase.”

Before you could respond, his hands slid to your hips, pulling you flush against him. The weight of his body pressed into yours, and you felt his grip tighten as your shoulder blades pressed into the door.

Your arms instinctively draped over his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the nape of his neck. For a moment, you just stared into his eyes, the air between you charged with anticipation.

“Well?” you said, your voice sly and challenging. “You gonna keep me waiting, or…?”

That was all it took. Nicholas closed the distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and hypnotic, his mouth soft and deliberate as he explored yours. It was the kind of kiss that made the world around you disappear, leaving only the two of you in the haze of each other’s touch.

His hands slid from your hips to cup your face, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. When he finally broke away to trail his lips down your jawline to your neck, your breath hitched. He seemed to know exactly where to go, instinctively finding the spots that made your pulse race, kissing and biting gently at your skin.

Your hands tightened on his shoulders, your body arching into him as he pressed his lips to the sensitive curve of your neck. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, but you didn’t want it to stop.

Your hands slid up the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as if spurring him on, pulling him closer. Nicholas groaned softly against your lips, his hands tightening on your hips as the kiss deepened, each movement deliberate and consuming. He kissed you like he didn’t want to let go, his lips moving against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless.

His fingers brushed the strings of your bikini top, his touch lingering as if asking for permission. When you didn’t pull away, he gently tugged, the fabric slipping from your shoulders and falling effortlessly between you. He broke the kiss, his hands still resting at your waist, and leaned back just slightly to look at you.

The way his eyes widened, drinking in the sight of you, made your heart race. It wasn’t just lust—it was awe, the kind that made you feel worshiped under his gaze. “Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and almost reverent. “I knew your body was insane, but…”

You didn’t even have time to laugh or respond because he leaned forward, taking your hard nipple into his mouth. His lips latched on, a low moan escaping as he suckled softly. His tongue flicked against the sensitive peak, sending shivers down your spine, and your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, fingers tangling as you held him close.

Nicholas alternated between gentle licks and firmer sucks, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His free hand trailed over your other breast, his thumb brushing across your other nipple with deliberate slowness, amplifying the heat building in your core.

You let out a soft whimper, your back arching as his mouth worked you over. The sound seemed to spur him on, and his hand tightened on your waist, pulling you even closer as if he wanted to devour every inch of you.

When he finally released your nipple with a soft pop, his eyes locked onto yours. They were dark with desire, a slight smirk playing on his lips as if he was proud of the effect he had on you.

You didn’t let him have the upper hand for long. Sliding your hands to his jaw, you pulled him up, your lips crashing into his in a kiss that was equal parts fiery and tender. As your mouths moved together, you guided him toward the counter, taking control of the moment.

With his back pressed against the edge of the countertop, you broke the kiss, your lips brushing his ear, he took a sharp inhale that had a hiss to it. “You want me to take care of you baby?” You whispered, your tone playful but laced with promise.

Nicholas let out a soft laugh, he tried to play it cool but he was too weak to actually speak. Completely wowed by your dominance, his breath catching as you kissed lower, leaving a trail of heat in your wake.

Your confidence grew with each reaction you pulled from him, his head tilting back as your mouth explored him. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, his knuckles white as you kissed down his torso, feeling the taut muscles beneath your lips.

When you dropped to your knees in front of him, his breath hitched, and his gaze snapped down to meet yours. The anticipation in his eyes was undeniable, his lips parted as he watched your every move with a hunger that sent a thrill through you.

Your fingers toyed with the hem of his trunks, your lips pressing soft, teasing kisses along his hips before you slowly tugged the fabric down. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, his arousal impossible to ignore. The sight of him made your pulse race, but you kept your composure, wrapping your hand around him and planting soft, deliberate kisses on his tip.

Each kiss sent a shiver through him, his body tensing under your touch. His breathing grew heavier, and you could feel his restraint slipping with every press of your lips. When you finally took him into your mouth, his head fell back instantly, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips.

His chocolate-brown hair, still slick from the pool and rain, framed his face as he clenched his jaw, struggling to hold himself together. Your movements were deliberate, your head bobbing with a rhythm that drove him wild. Each time your tongue swirled over him, his moans grew louder, his resolve to stay quiet crumbling.

“Y/N,” he groaned, your name tumbling from his lips before he quickly covered his mouth with one hand, muffling the sound. The sight of him trying so hard to keep control only spurred you on.

When the pressure became too much, his hand slid to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you with slow, calculated thrusts. His hips bucked gently into you, each movement precise as he tried not to lose himself completely.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he murmured, his voice rough and breathy.

You glanced up at him, your eager eyes meeting his dazed, pleasure-filled ones. The vulnerability in his gaze made you feel powerful, and when he saw the look on your face, his lips curled into a weak smile.

“Just like that, baby,” he cooed, his voice breaking slightly as he tightened his grip on your hair. “Keep that pretty mouth open for me.”

Just then, he pushed himself to the black of your throat, keeping your head there until you gagged a little, pushing off of him. He leaned down to kiss you, gently slapping your face, “good girl”.

Nicholas helped you to your feet, his lips crashing onto yours in a deep, hungry kiss before he turned you around. You caught your reflection in the mirror, his eyes devouring you, and felt a rush as he slowly slid down your bikini bottoms.

He dropped to his knees, hands gripping your ass as he began to lap at you from behind. The sensation made your knees tremble, and when his tongue flicked over your sensitive nerves, you couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped you. Your back arched instinctively, and you moved your hips, grinding against his face as he held you steady, his grip firm on your hips.

His lips wrapped around you, sucking gently, and you gasped his name, desperate for more. "Please, Nick, fuck me— I want you so bad," you begged, your voice ragged with need. He didn’t hesitate, his tongue more insistent, more eager.

A finger slipped inside, but as the pressure built, you felt yourself on the edge. "Nick, I’m gonna cum... please!" you cried out.

In one swift motion, he rose, positioning himself behind you. As he slid inside, a sharp breath left his lips, the tightness and warmth surrounding him almost too much. He slapped your ass, the sound echoing through the room as he began thrusting slowly, deliberately, making sure you felt every inch of him.

"You’re so fucking tight," he murmured, the words sending a shiver through your spine.

"Fuck, you’re so wet," he groaned, his pace picking up, his hands now gripping you tighter.

"You feel so good, baby," Nicholas continued, his praises falling from his lips, each one spurring you on.

Every time you dipped your head in pleasure, he tugged at your hair, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. "Look at yourself, baby girl. Look how good you look taking me."

The sound of your bodies meeting filled the bathroom, and you couldn’t help but wonder how no one heard you. But it didn’t matter— it only fueled the fire inside you. With each thrust, you arched deeper, matching his pace, your body consumed by the pleasure.

You found yourself in control of the situation as you thew yourself into Nicholas, he thre his hands up surrendering to your will. He moaned out while you braced yourself on the counter to continue your pace.

You gripped the edge of the counter, using it for leverage as you set the pace. Your back arched even more, alternating between consistent movements and then pulling back, just to take him all the way in. You pushed your hips back, forcing him deeper inside, making him groan in response.

“Fuck, baby... you’re so fucking nasty, I love it,” Nicholas breathed, his arms wrapping around your torso as his pace picked up.

His hands slid from your waist to your hips, his grip tightening. With a sudden, forceful pull, he yanked you back against him, taking control, and in one smooth motion, he began to set the pace himself.

You gasped, unable to stop the way your body reacted, completely at his mercy. His thrusts were hard and fast, each one driving you forward, your hands struggling to stay steady on the counter as the force of his movements pushed you closer to the edge.

“You like that, don’t you?” he growled, his voice rough with desire. “You like me taking control.”

You couldn’t help but moan in response, your body giving in to his every move. “Yes, Nick... fuck, yes,” you panted.

His pace grew frantic as he increased the pressure, his hands gripping your hips to steady you as he fucked you harder. His breathing became more ragged, his movements more desperate as he chased his own release.

“Fuck, baby... I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, his voice strained, and you could feel the tension building in his body.

With one final, deep thrust, Nicholas pushed you over the edge. He came inside you with a low, guttural moan, his body tensing as he emptied himself. You followed close behind, your body trembling in ecstasy as you felt him finish, both of you catching your breath in the aftermath.

He stayed inside you for a moment, his hands still gripping your hips as he tried to steady himself. Slowly, he pulled out, his lips brushing the back of your neck in a tender kiss as he whispered, talked you down.

#lavender baby #nicholas chavez #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez x y/n #nicholas chavez x female reader #nicholas chavez x black reader #nicholas chavez x plus sized reader

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weregonnaneedabiggerboat · 16 hours ago

Text

That Stupid Rabbit!

Lee!You x Ler!Jax

CW: Some baby talk, lots of teasing, Jax is a mean ler, and obvs tickling so scroll if that's not your thing!

A/N: Your persona is a squeaky toy plush here! This fic is sort of an addition to this drawing of Jax that I did. Also, this is my first tickling fic so let me know if you enjoyed!!

∘₊✧─────────✧₊∘

Stumbling back into your room after a long and tedious adventure, you collapse in your bed and heave a huge sigh. You were mentally and emotionally exhausted, and also a little bit annoyed.

What made Caine think that doing a dangerous labyrinth would be a fun adventure!? Why can't it just be an easter egg hunt or something!

You grunted loudly and covered your head with a pillow, hoping to get some shut eye soon so you could forget about today. It wasn't just the adventure that bothered you, but also the troubling transition into a whole other reality. You loved all your new friends, but sometimes their cynical attitudes towards everything was discouraging to deal with.

Not that you could blame them, being stuck here for a long time must have done something to their minds, evidenced by the fact Pomni understood you the most.

You just sighed and turned over in your bed, trying to brush all these thoughts away. Your arm extended to reach out for the lamp next to your bed, when all of a sudden you saw a shadow standing at the doorway.

You yelped, a brief look of surprise crossing your face, but your expression fell flat in annoyance when you realized who came knocking.

Course you left your door unlocked, because how could this day get any worse?

The stupid purple bunny man, Jack or whatever his name was, grinned at you as he leaned on the frame of the doorway.

“Hey there, Squeaky,” he teased, tilting his head, feigning innocence.

Yeah. Squeaky. That's what he called you. So original.

“Someone's happy to see me~"

“@#$& off, Jax,” you grunted, collapsing on your bed again and covering your face with the pillow. “I'm not in the mood for another stupid prank of yours, leave me alone.”

Jax always looked for excuses to make your plush body squeak, either by dropping you from a small height or by pushing you against something. You only figured he came here for some cheap entertainment, since the others were all ganged up and you were alone.

“What? Can't a guy check on his best buddy in the whole world without it bein a crime?" he taunted, raising his arms as if he was being accused.

You heard him welcome himself into your bedroom, and he stopped right before you. From the limited vision you had looking at the bottom of your pillow, you could see his looming figure standing before you.

“I'm serious, you cottontail jerk, get out of my— H-Hey!!”

You jolted when you felt him poke your belly, making your stuffed body squeak again. Only this time, you squeaked too.

“J-Jax!!” you exclaimed, immediately flipping the pillow to cover your belly instead of your face. However, you quickly realized how awful of an idea that was, evidenced by your slight sinking into your shoulders, since Jax could now fully see just how much that move made you blush.

Betraying you, your face heated up the more his grin widened. If it got any longer it could probably wrap around his face, you thought, and that idea almost made you smile if it wasn't for your situation right now.

“This is new, Squeaky,” he teased, poking your side from below the pillow. Jax laughed as your hand swiftly came to the rescue, smacking his wrist out of the way. “What’s the matter, Squeaky? You're awfully squirmy today~"

“Jax enough!!” you growled defensively, though it came off way less threatening than you would've liked, especially with how much your face was blushing.

However, in typical Jax fashion, he totally ignored you and poked your side again, and again, and again. And each time you tried to cover it he'd just switch his hand to poking the other side.

You started to giggle and kick your legs, squirming even more to get away from his fingers. This reaction seemed to entice him even more, as the more giggly you got, the more he poked you in different places.

“Aww is the little squeaky toy ticklish~?” he cooed with a mocking voice, grinning smugly when you returned his tease with an embarrassed glare.

The t-word!? Seriously!?

How does he always find such effective ways of bullying you?

Also, the way he said it so confidently made you sink into yourself even more, using the pillow as some sort of shield to protect you so you can hide away and never come out.

And of COURSE your reaction to that word didn't go unnoticed by him, because his ears flicked straight up in curiosity once he saw you look away. He almost looked intrigued at this new vulnerability he discovered, lidding his eyes and raising his eyebrows.

"Sh-Shut up,” you murmured.

“What? Why?” he chuckled, wiggling his fingers in the air and snickering at your embarrassed reaction. “Are ya ticklish, Squeaky~?”

You let out a whine and tried to hit him with the pillow, pleading for him to get off. Which didn't help at all by the way, since he just grabbed it from your hands and tossed it aside.

“I said shut up!!” you scolded.

“Haha, there is no way you get flustered from the word tickle!” He was laughing at you at this point, and it was starting to make you feel embarrassed and a little belittled.

You looked away and pouted sadly, which he noticed, and his expression calmed down slightly as a result.

Of course he was just mocking you, what did you expect? There was no way he was ever going to—

“There's no need to be so ashamed, Squeaky,” he chuckled with a less taunting tone than before, interrupting your invasive thoughts. Jax didn't stoop as low as to make fun of something so vulnerable. Then he added, “Buuut, don't think this is going to save you from anything~”

He cracked his knuckles and grinned down at you, and your eyes widened in response, because now he climbed on top of your bed and sat on your legs, limiting your movement.

No. No, he wouldn't, he can't! You'd probably explode into a million pieces or something!! What the hell did he think he was doing!?

"What the heck are you—"

“Get ready, Squeaky, because I'm... going to…” He watched your expression with narrowed, amused eyes, looking down at you with maybe the most evil look you've ever seen come from his face. He then raised his hands and slowly made a clawing motion with his fingers.

“Tickle you~”

Before you could respond, he quickly descended his wiggling fingers into your ribs, and you squealed out in a fit of giggles, trying to kick your feet or push him or something! But his weight on top of you prevented you from squirming too far, and your arms uselessly wrapped around your chest.

“Tickle, tickle~” he cooed, and every time you squealed, it just encouraged him even more. “Yeah? That make you blush?" he taunted, moving his fingers into every corner that made you giggle.

"Hmm, what about... Coochicoochicoo~” he cooed, his fingers scrambling into your ribs, as he poked and prodded around in there.

“JAHAHAX!!” you shrieked through your laughter, feeling like you were about to have a heart attack from all this out of nowhere teasing coming from him. Your face felt hot with embarrassment, and you closed your eyes tightly to avoid eye contact. “STOHOHOP!! IHIHI’M SERIOUHUHUS!!”

“No way! This is way too good!!” He laughed along with you, experimenting with different spots, his fingers squirming and poking anywhere your arms failed to block, almost as if he was searching for something.

“Where's your tickle spot, Squeaky? I know you have one~” he sang. “Is it here? Or here? Or maybe here?”

You felt his fingers wriggle at your ribs, then your belly, then your neck. Each touch tickled even more than the last, and it didn't just feel like tickling, it felt like tickling that he was very much enjoying.

You swiped your arms up and down your body helplessly. Every time you blocked your sides, he tickled your ribs, and every time you blocked your ribs, he tickled your sides. There was no winning!

And then, you made a big mistake.

You lifted your arms to grab at his wrists and finally pull them off of you, but before you could catch them—

“Oh I know, HERE!!” he declared, pushing his index fingers under your arms and making you scream even more with embarrassed laughter. He laughed at his own victory, and you just couldn't seem to catch a break.

“NOHOHO!! NO JAHAX STOHOHOP PLEHEASE!!” you pleaded with the rabbit, clamping your arms down on his hands and trying your best to arch your back. It was no use, you just trapped his hands under your arms, and you couldn't find the strength to lift them.

“You're just making this easier and easier for me, Squeaky,” he chuckled, grinning down at you and continuing to wriggle his fingers under your clamped down arms. “Tickle, tickle~”

You couldn't even get any more words out now, not that it mattered because he wasn't going to stop anyway. Your indecipherable pleads for him to stop fell on deaf ears, and it seemed like he really was never going to stop until he was satisfied.

“Say it, Squeaky~ Say you're ticklish~” he teased, moving his fingers to that sweet spot right between your ribs and armpits.

“NOHOHO!!” you cackled, hugging yourself so tightly that you might as well be tying yourself up with your arms. You really wanted him to give you a breathing break, but the catch being that you had to SAY it? Out loud? To him of all people!?

“Say you're ticklish and I'll stop~” his voice cooed playfully to you, even with your eyes shut tightly you can still hear the grin in his words. His hand moved to your belly, and he scribbled his fingers all over your midsection, keeping his other hand poking your ribs.

“FIHINE I'M—” you whined through your laughter, trying force the word out through resistive lips. “I-I’m!! I- Hihi— I-I'm—!! @#&$!! I'm NOHOT saying ihihit!!"

“Oh well," he chuckled at your adorable reaction, humming in disappointment. "Looks like I'm not stopping any time soon, then, Squeaky~” he shrugged nonchalantly, as if he could go all day with this.

“F-FIHINE I'm—" you giggled with a tiny voice, squealing as you felt both his hands scribble all around your belly and sides."Ihi'm ticklihish—!!"

Jax grinned at that, feeling quite victorious in doing his job properly. He pulled his hands away and sat up, resting them next to you.

You heaved a giant gulp of air, panting strongly from that entire episode. He was such an evil, evil ler. And way to jinx it, too.

“Say it again, but this time look at me,” he decided to add with a smug look, then wiggled his fingers again. “Or else…~”

You squeaked as he gave you a warning poke at your sides. No way he was really going to do all that again, right…?

You just stared at him with wide eyes, frozen in place as you decided between enduring that again or actually having to say the t-word out loud. Both options sounded just as anxiety inducing as the other.

“Come on, Squeaky, we don't have all night~”

You yelped as you felt him poke you again, and quickly blurted the words out loud. “F-Fine I'm ticklish!! I-I am!!” you stammered, your voice high pitched and embarrassed.

Satisfied, Jax finally got off of you, stretching out his back, then poking your nose playfully.

“See ya around, Squeaky~” he chuckled with a wave, turning to walk away.

“Jax—"

His ears flicked curiously, and he looked back at you, hands in his pockets.

Your eyes flicked between his hidden hands and his eyes, but this time you caught yourself quickly before he could notice. Still panting a bit from the adrenaline rush, you managed to compose yourself enough to sit up and hug your pillow.

“...Please, don't tell anyone,” you pleaded with a small and timid voice, anxious at the idea of everyone knowing about this secret of yours. Maybe there wasn't anything wrong with it, but it was way too vulnerable of a subject for just anyone to know about.

Jax raised his eyebrows with a smug smirk, he definitely noticed you looking at his hands. Part of him wanted to tell all your friends just to make you mad, but seeing your genuine expression made him reconsider. Making you feel unsafe was beyond his interest, and besides, having this just be between you two would make for some way more fun teasing.

Still, not wanting to give in so easily, he just gave you a vague answer and a shrug.

“Hmm... We'll see, Squeaky," he hummed, turning and walking out of your room, that ever smug expression on his face.

You saw his shadow disappear from your doorway. What did he even mean by that?? Was he going to tell them or no!?

You swallowed nervously, and got up to go and silently lock your door closed for the rest of the night, not wanting to face the others whilst being such a flustered mess.

Slumping back into your bed, you sighed heavily, trying your best to process what just happened. Your stomach flared up in butterflies as your mind played the past 10 minutes over and over in vivid detail.

Knowing Jax, there was absolutely no way he was going to let go of this so easily. And as much as you wanted to deny it for your own peace of mind, you knew he was going to tease you about this forever.

Still…

You curled up around your pillow, laying on your side and staring at the clock tick on the wall. As anxious as that thought made you, you still smiled a bit. And you couldn't help but feel a little excited at the same time.

Ugh… That stupid rabbit.

#tickle fic #ler!jax #jax x you #jax x reader #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc fanfic #lee!reader

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