#Master Chavez | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xbinksc · 4 months ago

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RUMOURS AND REVELATIONS

PT 2

⭒❃.✮:▹Nicholas Alexander Chavez

SUMMARY: singer Y/N and co-star Nicholas face rumors of romance amid their chemistry and rising fame, navigating media scrutiny while strengthening their bond. Where will all this take them?

WARNINGS: real mushy at the end, looooong

A/N: Requests are open! Still can’t figure out how to make a master list rip someone help me…Enjoy🤍

✧༺༻∞

In a surprising turn of events, Monsters star Nicholas Alexander Chavez and singer Y/N were seen enjoying a cozy night out at a popular cafe in Los Angeles last night. The duo, who play alongside each other in the upcoming series Grotesquerie, appeared to be having a great time, laughing and taking pictures with fans, sparking speculation about their off-screen relationship.

Eyewitnesses described the pair as "playful" and "affectionate," with Nicholas even wrapping an arm around Y/N during photos—a move that sent fans into a frenzy!

This public outing comes just days after news broke of Nicholas’s breakup with his ex-girlfriend, prompting fans to wonder if the split was influenced by his growing bond with Y/N. The timing has many fans theorizing that "The Boy Is Mine," Y/N's latest hit song, is a not-so-subtle nod to the love triangle drama.

Sources close to the pair have revealed that they have been spending significant time together both on and off set, which has only added to the swirling rumors. An insider claims, “They have an undeniable connection. It’s clear they enjoy each other's company.”

The pair’s chemistry has been undeniable throughout filming, leading fans to question whether their relationship is purely professional or if there's a budding romance behind the scenes. Social media is buzzing with reactions, with many supporters urging the couple to "just be together already!"

While neither Nicholas nor Y/N has officially commented on their relationship status, their fans are eagerly awaiting any updates. For now, the rumors continue to heat up, leaving everyone wondering: Is it just a friendship, or is there something more?

Stay tuned as we follow this developing story!

INSTAGRAM

@/ynuser: werk ♡

Comments

@/user gorgeous gorgeous girl

@/user I need the next ep of grotesquerie NEOW😵‍💫

@/zaralarsson trying not to say mother

- @/ynuser donatella VERSACE💜

@/user girl please tell me the rumours are true I won’t snitchhhh

@/nicholasalexanderchavez 🤓

-liked by @/ynuser

@/user my new flex is I met Nicholas and y/n last night😛

@/kyliejenner obsessed with u😍

@/user okayyyyy Nicholas I see you👀

- @/user we need a ship name ASAP

- @/user bro they’re so cute I cannot

- @/user not y’all supporting a homewrecker

COMMENTS TURNED OFF

IRL

The night was heavy with a storm, clouds gathering like dark thoughts in the sky. Nicholas sat in his living room, the flickering light of his candles casting dancing shadows on the walls. He stared blankly at the flick of his phone screen, each notification a new reminder of the whirlwind that had enveloped his life. Articles dissected every moment with you, twisting your innocent laughter into scandalous headlines.

A sudden, frantic knock shattered the stillness. His heart skipped as he opened the door, revealing you, your face streaked with tears, vulnerability spilling over in the soft glow of the hallway light.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, pulling you inside and closing the door behind you. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Nicholas,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you sank onto the sofa, burying your face in your hands. “The rumors… they’re unbearable. And I keep thinking about your ex—she must hate me. I don’t want to be the reason for any hurt.”

Nicholas moved to sit beside you, concern etched across his face. “You’re not a homewrecker, Y/N. This isn’t your fault.”

“But I met her. I saw how hurt she was,” you whispered, your eyes brimming with regret. “What if she thinks I came in and ruined everything?”

Nicholas felt a pang of sorrow for both women, caught in a whirlwind of feelings beyond their control. “You didn’t ruin anything. Our relationship had its own complexities. It’s not fair to blame you.”

You looked up, your eyes searching his. “Then why do I feel like I’m drowning? Every article, every rumor, it all makes me feel like I’m stuck in this web. And I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt because of it.”

The tension in the room hung thick, an unspoken truth waiting to be unraveled. Nicholas took a deep breath, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. “Maybe we should talk about where we stand. We can’t keep avoiding it. This anxiety… it’s tearing us apart.”

Your gaze softened, and you nodded slowly. “You’re right. We’ve let this consume us. But where do we even begin?”

“Let’s start with the truth,” he suggested, his heart pounding. “What do we really feel about each other?”

The question lingered in the air, almost fragile in its intensity. You hesitated, your heart racing. “I care about you, Nicholas. More than I thought I could. But I’m scared. Scared of what this means, and how the world will react.”

Nicholas leaned closer, the space between the both of you crackling with a mixture of tension and longing. “I feel the same. You’ve become so important to me. I don’t want to lose you, but the noise outside… it makes everything complicated.”

“Do you think it’s worth it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can we really separate our professional lives from this… whatever this is between us?”

He considered your words, weighing them carefully. “We can try. But we need to be honest with ourselves. We can’t let the pressure of the world dictate our feelings.”

Your expression shifted, a flicker of hope igniting in your eyes. “So, we give it a real shot? Just… discreetly?”

“Yes,” he replied, a smile breaking through the weight of the moment. “We can keep our lives separate while exploring this connection. I want to see where this can lead us without the distractions.”

The relief washed over you like a balm, and you took his hand, the warmth of his touch igniting something deep within you. “You make me feel seen.”

“You make me feel understood,” he admitted, his heart swelling. “In a world that often feels chaotic, you’re my calm.”

Just as you both began to find your rhythm, the storm of stress outside began to seep in. “But what if people don’t understand? What if they twist our relationship again?” Your voice trembled, a hint of frustration creeping in.

Nicholas felt his own anxiety bubble up. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if we just ignored them. We can’t let every rumor dictate our reality!”

“That’s easy for you to say!” You shot back, your voice rising. “You’re not the one facing the scrutiny every single day!”

“Neither are you! We’re in this together!” he countered, the tension escalating as your emotions collided.

You both paused, the heat of the argument hanging in the air like a taut string ready to snap. You took a shaky breath, your eyes wide. “Wait… are we really mad at each other?”

Nicholas blinked, realization dawning. “No, we’re not. We’re just… stressed. This whole situation is making us take it out on each other.”

You nodded, the tension slowly dissipating. “You’re right. I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just all so overwhelming.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I get it. We’re in the same boat, fighting the same storm. Let’s breathe for a second.”

“Let’s breathe,” you echoed, the weight of the moment shifting from confrontation to understanding. You took a few deep breaths together, grounding yourselves in the presence of each other.

“Maybe we should focus on what we can control,” Nicholas suggested softly. “Like how we communicate. We don’t have to let this stress tear us apart.”

“Agreed,” You replied, a small smile breaking through the remnants of tension. “We’ll work through it together.”

You shared a moment of silence, your hands intertwined, the soft rhythm of your breaths echoing in the space between you. Each pulse of your hearts seemed to sync, bridging the gap of uncertainty that had kept you apart.

“Can we just enjoy being together without all the noise?” You asked, your eyes sparkling with a blend of mischief and sincerity.

“Absolutely,” he replied, a grin tugging at his lips. “Let’s find joy in the little things—coffee dates, late-night talks, quiet moments where it’s just us.”

As you spoke, the heaviness of the outside world began to dissolve, replaced by a gentle warmth. Laughter bubbled between you, lightening the mood as you reminisced about your time spent on set, the shared glances and stolen smiles that had made everything feel electric.

Nicholas found himself enchanted by your laughter, a sound that felt like music, lifting them both above the fray. “You know,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes, “you owe me a karaoke night. I expect a duet.”

“Deal,” you replied, laughing through your tears. “But only if you promise to keep your mic in check. No sudden high notes!”

Your playful banter melted into deeper conversations, the night unfurling like a flower, revealing petals of honesty and vulnerability. You spoke of dreams, aspirations, and fears, each revelation drawing you closer together.

But as the clock ticked on, reality loomed like a specter at the edges of your newfound intimacy. “This isn’t going to be easy,” You said, your expression sobering. “The world won’t stop watching.”

“I know,” Nicholas replied, his voice steady. “But we have to stay true to ourselves and each other. As long as we communicate, we’ll find our way through.”

You smiled, a warmth spreading through your heart. “Then let’s take it one step at a time.”

The moment stretched between you, a fragile yet beautiful thread connecting your hearts. “What if it doesn’t work out?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Then we’ll still have this moment,” he replied, his gaze unwavering. “This is ours, regardless of what happens later.”

As the night deepened, you shared a quiet moment, eyes locked, the understanding between you solidifying into something undeniable. In the midst of chaos, you had carved out a sanctuary, a bond that felt like the softest whisper against a storm.

When you finally stood to leave, a mix of reluctance and exhilaration coursed through you. “This was… everything I needed. Thank you for being here.”

Nicholas walked you to the door, feeling the glow of possibility surrounding him. “I’ll always be here for you. Remember that.”

With a shared look of promise, you stepped into the night, the world outside still tumultuous but your hearts intertwined in a newfound hope. As Nicholas closed the door behind you, he felt the glow of possibility surrounding him.

#nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader

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spirit-elementmaster · 5 months ago

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Kaijudo Headcannons: Recruitment of Masters

Okay it's kinda implied in the show that Kaijudo is either passed down in the family like with Ken and Isao or you are spotted with great potential by a member in the Order like with Ray, Allie and Gabe

Either way you are tested by the Order in how to handle mana and how quickly you can pick it up in one day, if not you're memory is erased.

Here are my takes on how I think the Masters got recruited:

Hector

For Hector I feel like he got recruited from his family

For this reason it's because I believe working with Fire Creatures takes a long time especially with how uncontrollable and are very destructive they are in nature

I feel like Fire Specialist are mostly those who were trained by family members who learn how to fight with such fiery creatures and have a passed down teachings and certain practices

It's also implied in the show there can be certain side effects when training in certain civilizations, shown with Allie when letting darkness taking over

When working with Fire Civilization you must have a literal spark in order to train with Fire Creatures specifically

However that spark can take over and become in it's essence rage and a destructive force

Hector learned from family how to control and be more tame when working with Fire Civilization

I think that's why his character is so calm and tame because he had to learn to control the fire within when he was an acolyte himself

When it comes to families who train in Fire, most often than not all children are expected to train and learn the teachings

I'll get into it in another post, but when it comes to some families, especially those held at a high standard because of their long history with the Order they are most likely grew up with Kaijudo their whole lives as children

Hector's family was one of the few that had such a high standard that he grew up with Kaijudo his whole life and expected to carry on a certain legacy of his family

Nadia

Nadia was spotted by a Water Specialist

I feel like when those from the Order spot outsiders to join they usually will spot characteristics with civilizations

So with Nadia she was mostly likely spotted for her keen desire to keep expanding her knowledge, her control over her emotions and ability to be flexible

It's not just characteristics associated with civilizations though, it's also showing bravery and being able to face the unknown especially when it comes with dealing with dangerous creatures

With Nadia she was spotted off the streets and used her smarts to get herself around

But she also expressed a level of justice and most likely got spotted when she was defending someone

Kimora

He was also spotted

With nature, you have to express commitment and loyalty

It's like when you take care of plants, they take time and patience to keep them alive and require compassion and a sense of duty

However Kimora was initially spotted by showing characteristics of bravery and loyalty

It wasn't until after he was officially joined the Order that he began showing his strong alignment with nature

I feel with nature as well you have to show a sense of community, a lot of Nature Creatures seen in the show are most often than not with a group, like with the Quillspikes or Bronze-Arm Tribe

As a acolyte, he trained a lot in groups, helped those around him and thrived in being with others

It wasn't until Kimora showed more of these characteristics that he was more committed to a Nature Civilization training

Jaha

She was definitely recruited by family

Like Fire, it's another civilization to master, you can easily give into the darkness and become corrupt

Those who train in Darkness Civilization have to be guided by specialists and learn how to not let it take over

However not just anyone in the family can be trained compared to families who train in Fire

Children of families that train in Darkness are hand selected and picked from the very best

The Darkness can easily manipulate you and families themselves will often do their own tests to their children to see if they can handle it

With Jaha, she absolutely had to prove to her family she can handle it, showing how cunning and resourceful she is

Just like Hector, Jaha also has a legacy to carry on from her family

It's why Jaha takes up Allie as her protege, teaching her the ways of how her family taught her since Jaha wants to pass down what her own family was taught

Nigel

It can really go either or for me

Spotted or from a family

But because he's absolutely never strays from the rules, I feel like he does come from a family that comes from some sort of line of Light

Not a very high standard one like Jaha or Hector, but definitely a more recent and small family

Nigel was held up at a standard from a very young age

He was taught from day one to follow the rules and can never stray

From trauma of being taught these strict ways and forced into the role it's why Nigel betrayed the Order as well

He can't bring himself to go against what he was taught his whole life because it's so foreign and most likely frightens him if he strays

Nigel also holds himself at a high standard and even though he cut ties with his family, he still can't help think about the disappointment and guilt if he strays from the rules

So yeah here are some Kaijudo Headcannons and how I think the Masters were recruited, let me know what you think!

#kaijudo #kaijudo rise of the duel masters #Master Chavez #Master Nadia #Master Kimora #Master Jaha #Master Brightmore #headcanon #i want more lore from this show #so i made my own lore #like this show had so much potential #still sad it got cancelled

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blackynsupremacy · 1 month ago

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CRAVING

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: only two weeks after your honeymoon, the craving for your new husband drives him to distraction at work. when he comes home, he teaches you a lesson on how to be more patient.

contains: based on this request, 18+ content minors dni, smut, swearing, l bombs, fluff near the end, mention of sexting/sending nudes, mention of masturbation, dom!nicholas, sub!reader, begging, spanking, edging, sir kink, cum play, nipple/titty play, unprotected sex, rough then romantic sex, degradation and praise kink, mention of a safe word, nicholas and reader are newlyweds, swearing, masturbation (f!), overstimulation, use of a vibrator, oral (f/m giving and receiving), squirting, cream pie, aftercare, implications of round two.

taglist: @greengoblinswifey @thabiddie23 @hopefully-saturn @jkr820 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @niteskysx @sabrinasopposite @thabiddie23 @hnch33rios @xoxoglittergossip @supaprettyg @motherismotheringggg @oscarisaackissmykitty @simply-lovley44 @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @venic-bxtch @stargirl-mayaa

“you think you’re so clever, aren’t you, mrs. chavez?”

your husband, nicholas, slyly inquired as he leaned against the doorway of your master bedroom. you paused what you were doing as he had just caught you pleasuring yourself with the pink vibrator that he detests with his entire being. you’re married to him, what the fuck do you need that for? he loves how much you yearn for his presence and his touch, yet you’re so damn impatient. what he can’t stand even more is that you decided to tease him while he was away on his set for a new project. you both knew that crashing down from the high of your honeymoon to the reality of daily life and careers would affect you, but damn— nicholas knew he was fucked up when he saw the photo of you posing on the bed in that sultry, midnight blue satin lingerie set while sporting a chained necklace of his while he took a brief break while on set. he knew he was fucked up when they came in an album of you in various ways. whether you were teasing yourself within the thong, groping the plush melanated skin of your breasts, or worse—letting your fingers dig deep down south before sucking them off like no tomorrow. nicholas couldn’t count on his fingers the amount of times the director had to call cut due to fumbling over lines as his head was clouded with such explicit visions of you. with each call to cut, his frustration towards you grew. eventually, nicholas finally got his shit together by articulating his lines without a hiccup and filming for the day had successfully wrapped, but being the perfectionist that he is, nicholas was fuming as he sped to your home. the tan skin of his knuckles glowed with ivory as his large hand deathly gripped on the steering wheel, he huffed out a breath to slightly settle himself because you already caused him trouble at work—the last thing he needed was trouble with the law. after he pulled into the driveway to enter your home, he immediately followed the sound of his name echoing through the silence of the house which now brings him to the point of catching you red-handed.

“nicholas!” you feigned a gasp and froze in your position, the toy still buzzing against your bundle of nerves. you bite down on your lip to withhold a mosn from both the sensation and your husband’s pissed, yet lecherous gaze upon you. with a nervous chuckle, you attempt to innocently play off as if this wasn’t your diabolical plan to begin with,

“h-how was work today, baby?” you question, the pitch of your voice raised as it was breathier now. you observe as he deliberately saunters closer to the bed to where he’s standing in the center of your propped, spread legs. the usually soft brown gaze of his now shifted to an intense black as he peered at the sight of that damned pink contraption still giving you half-assed ecstasy. with a scoff, a wicked chuckle vibrated from the depth of his chest. nicholas slowly shook his head.

“after everything that you’ve done, that’s all you gotta fucking say?” he quizzes with a tilt of his head, his brow raised to see how long you could keep up this facade.

“nicholas, i—”

“i’m sorry, baby, but i don’t know who the fuck you’re referring to—you see, nicholas indulges his time with women who’re patient, but sir, does not. do you understand that?”

you only respond with a nod because you could feel your first orgasm slowly approaching. he could tell also from the way your open legs slightly twitch, as well as the rise of your bucking hips from the bed. nicholas places his hands on either side of your hips, making sure to keep distance as he leans forward over your body.

“oh, no, sweetheart. y’know that mute shit doesn’t fly when you’re on punishment. tell me that you understand. right. fucking. now.” he whispered, his lips kept in a tight straight line as his eyes searched your face. by the look in your own eyes, you were practically begging him to snatch the vibrator away and scratch the itch that’s been bugging you since you’ve returned from your trip. you needed him, but due to your impatience, you might not get what you need by your way. you were in trouble and it only increased your craving for him to properly handle you like a man should.

“y-yes, sir. i—i understand.” he smirks as you actually manage to comply. in these situations, you’d be a brat, but as your husband, his heart raced as he could see that your desire for him was higher—more urgent, now that you both vowed to love and hold each other forever.

he peered down at your dripping sex briefly before shifting back to your angelic, glowing face,

“you’re bout to cum soon, yeah?” he softly questioned, chuckling as soon as a whimper left from your full lips.

“y-yes— yes, sir. wanna cum so bad, please.”

nicholas tilts his head, sucking his teeth.

“i get it, but with this.” he referred to the vibrator, “ah, no, baby, i think you got something twisted.” the next thing you knew, he slapped the toy from your hand and soon as the light thud hit the hardwood, two of his skilled fingers easily slid inside of you. you bawl out a whine once his thumb takes the devices place on your clit. this was all you ever wanted, his touch. nicholas’ length grew hard at the fact of how easy it was to gain access. with each motion of his fingers against the velvety cushion of your clenching walls, your arousal was getting out of control. it was like his fingers were on a fucking slip n’ slide. there it was again, that ball of heat forming within your abdomen,

“s-sir! m’gonna cum. only you can do it f’me! just—please, let me cum!” you thrash your hips against the rhythm of his fingers, you feel your entire body cave in when you look to see that gorgeous smile of his flash before you. maybe he was going to let you off the hook this time, right?

wrong.

just as easily as they went in, his fingers slipped out of you and his thumb ceased its sweet caress, leaving you to hang. this was only just the beginning of your punishment now. the luminous glistening skin of nicholas’ fingers were instantly clean by his tongue, he hummed at the addictive taste of your nectar, a taste he could never tire out of.

“as much i love to hear you beg, i don’t think you deserve to cum right now.” nicholas paused briefly as he began to unbutton the pristine white shirt he wore, effortlessly sliding the garment off of his bulging shoulders and biceps to reveal the sculpted body he’s been working so hard on for years. hell, he’s still working— no matter how many times you’ve seen him in his true form, it was like he was getting thicker.

fuck, you were so lucky to be married to such a fine specimen and him being good looking was just the bonus.

“i love you, y’know that? and as your husband, i want to take care of you because that’s what i vowed in front of our families—i intend to keep my word while i’m out living my dream and booking projects, but y’know what really fucks it up f’me?” he questions, unbuckling his belt to unzip his pants and free himself only to his black ck boxers you gifted him a while back. you were tuned in to listen, but of course you were distracted by his well endowed arousal staring back at you. he grabs your attention by softly grasping your jaw, forcing eye contact.

“my eyes are up here, baby, you already know how i feel about you, so don’t act so surprised.” it’s amazing that nicholas could be cross with you, but manage to still make you feel adored—as if you were his only one.

“it fucks me up how i’m out here working my ass off to support you, my wife—and then you tease me with that body of yours, knowing you’re my weakness.” he chuckled before continuing, “i looked so damn stupid messing up my lines because you’re all i could think about—” he sat upright on the bed, “get over here, now.” giving a once over to his lap. you shakily sit up to crawl over on his lap, laying on your stomach with your ass angled up for him perfectly.

“atta girl.” nicholas affirmed your compliance, rewarding the side of your ass with a smack of his hand, you yelp.

“sir, i’m s-sorry, i was just—” you cut off by another smack to your skin,

“i don’t want excuses, doll, i want accountability. now—i’m gonna show you how much you really affected me. you’re gonna count the times you made me mess up on set. if you can be a good girl, i’ll forgive you and give you what we both deserve, that good with you?” he softly caresses your skin, setting the expectation before you respond,

“yes, sir.”

“if you don’t, you don’t get to cum, but if it’s too much, you remember our safe word, yeah?” he peered down at you, using his fingers to guide your eyes to meet his sincere gaze. you reply with the words said previously, he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. it was short, but full of fire and reassurance.

“good, y’know i’d never want to hurt you.”

there he goes again, his duality between a sexually charged dominant and doting husband were remarkable to you, you could never guess his next move.

“get ready to count, mrs. chavez.” he drew his hand back, returning to make quick contact against your skin.

“one!” you don’t hesitate to cry out.

another smack makes it debut,

“t-two!”

he adds a little more force with another,

“three!”

nicholas repeats,

“f-five!”

uh oh. you skipped a number, you were so damn drunk into the sensation, you fucked up. you pussy tingles when you hear him darkly chuckle.

“you’re pathetic, but you were so close. it was actually five times, but i guess you really wanted to get punished, did you, mrs. chavez?” you were speechless, the lingering sting from his palm remained on your skin.

“sir i—” you try to defend yourself, but now you’re past the point of no return when he commands you to get on your knees. despite the slight ache, you follow through, your head right in between the thickness of his thighs. the impressive tent beneath the onyx fabric of his boxers stared at you, putting you in a state of hypnosis. your thighs clenched, salivating at the mere thought of his taste. you were sure to get in his good graces again because you knew exactly what to do with his precious gift,

“this is your only chance for me to forgive you after acting like such a slut—and you’re just gonna stare at it? i know you’re smarter than that, mrs. chavez.” nicholas leans back, his hips rising off the bed to swiftly remove the final piece of clothing from his body, revealing one of his greatest assets. he was thick and girthy from the base to vein ridden shaft. your mouth watered at the sight of the swollen, strawberry red tip that was already oozing out his seed. his voice broke out of your trance,

“go on—earn my forgiveness.”

he commanded with a whisper, attentively looking on as you started to stick out your tongue to prep your hand, but you paused, another delicious idea creeped into your mind. you bit your lip at nicholas’ baffled expression, your hand descending down your body, reaching to your slickness. you move your hand back and forth, rubbing circles around your clit to emit more juice without cumming on yourself. you wouldn’t dare. once your hand was coated with enough, it doesn’t take long for you to grip at the base of nicholas’ cock before you start to stroke fluidly. as soon as your thumb paints figure eights around the leaking tip, a deep grunt mixed with some profanity echoed throughout the room,

“what the fuck, you’re fucking incredible—my wife is such a nasty whore. keep going, baby, give it a taste.”

he bucks his hips with your hand, now craving more. with soft “yes, sir.”, you bring your tongue out to lick a stripe up on the underside, swirling it around the tip before hallowing your cheeks to take in as much as you can of his length. his taste mixed with yours drives you to move your head up and down in the perfect tempo, not so fast to end it all, but to let you both savor this moment. he deserved it, busting his ass to bring in a bag and take care of you, but here you were fucking it up for him behind the scenes because you couldn’t wait a few more hours. now, feeling super remorseful, you hum and guide him deeper within your throat. the vibration along with your skill causes nicholas to caress his large fingers through your scalp as he feels himself reaching closer to the edge,

“ah, mm. shit—you must be really sorry, huh? fuck, you’re doing so amazing. i bet you’ve been wanting to do this shit all day, you nasty little slut, c’mon, take it.” with a firmer grasp to your head, he practically fucks himself within your throat. he’s grateful that you’re able to take it so well because he’s never want to harm you for his pleasure. nicholas’ body convulses when the wave of ecstasy finally crashes over him, causing his seed to rain down into your mouth. he could bust out more as he observes you swallowing every single drop before popping him out of his mouth, but he just hoisted you up onto his lap to draw you into a fervent kiss. you’d both been longing for each other’s lips to touch since this morning. it was a kiss that resembled two lovers being apart from each other for years on end. with a grip to your neck, his tongue intrudes within your mouth. he took his time to swirl around it before wrapping his lips around to completely suck on your tongue, a moan emitting from your lips as he pulls away. your hand reached to caress along the soft skin of his jawline, you’re still in awe that he was your husband, a man that so much of the world wanted and fell for. you lay one last kiss on his lips before uttering,

“i’m so sorry, nicholas—i didn’t mean to get you into trouble, i promise to wait for you next time. i just—crave for you—” you giggle feeling his face heat up under you while peppering kisses on his skin, “so much.” you whisper into his ear, pecking the lobe before gazing back into his eyes, awaiting his forgiveness.

you knew he was back to the doting husband you exchanged vows with, he didn’t even correct you for calling out his name.

“all is forgiven, sweetheart. y’know, i always want to make sure you’re taken care of and thank you for being so understanding.” his gaze shifted from yours to the skimpy top you were still wearing, his finger slid up to to bring each spaghetti strap down on your shoulders.“y’know i’ll always give my wife what she deserves—take that off. i wanna see you.”

nicholas moves out of the way, so that you could stand before him to teasingly remove the last part of clothing that you had on.

“god, my wife is so fucking beautiful. like, it’s insane—lemme touch you, baby.” he comments resuming his casual position on the bed.

feeling bashful under his gaze, you thank your husband for the compliment before you step closer to him. once you’re in his reach, he pulls you down onto his lap and places your legs securely around his waist. nicholas leans in, his lips ghosting over yours before he finally closes the gap between you again. he spends quality time sharing his lips with yours before they descend to show affection on the skin of your neck, a hum erupts from his chest as his tongue swirls around the glowing melanated skin of your collarbone. you shudder in pleasure at his skill and you were lost in a trance as you watched him bury his angelic face within your chest. while his hand was groping one, his tongue would be teasing the point of your erected nipple then he would alternate. nicholas always made sure each of them got special treatment, but that was just the appetizer.

with such a gentle touch, nicholas turned you around, so that your spine was connected to the bed. his large body loomed over yours as he was still staring in awe at your body. everything within you heats up the longer his eyes lingered over every inch of you. a sigh escapes your lips as his travel from your chest and to your stomach. nicholas reaches your navel, just right above where you need him the most. his gaze holds yours as if asking if he can further. after receiving a silent yet eager nod of approval from you, your thighs were already perched on his shoulders as his head disappeared in the gap between your legs. you’re already a moaning mess when his tongue takes the liberty of claiming its territory along your clit. nicholas nodded and shook his head in different directions as his tongue continued to love on the sensitive bundle of nerves. the chocolate tresses of his hair are tousled by your fingers when he encloses his lips around the pleasure point, giving it a well deserved suckle.

“fuck, nick baby, that feels so good!” you exclaim, gripping his hair a bit tighter, your thighs hugging him in closer. this only motivated him to be more relentless, he moved his tongue rapidly along every part of you and gave a little something extra by having his thumb work on your clit. nicholas grinned in satisfaction at the sight of your legs trembling, your sounds getting higher and desperate. you were going to cum and that’s exactly what he needed.

“c’mon, sweetheart. give it all to me. let go.” your body convulses and falls under the spell of his soft coaxing voice as you let your love for him gush from within you. his tongue lapped you clean of every drop that spilled out of you.

“you did so good f’me, doll, but i know you want more.” nicholas wastes no time in scoring himself up closer, so were face to face. with the use of his hand, guides his cock to line up at your awaiting entrance before he fills you up completely until he completely bottoms out. you both sigh in relief as you both connect, he pulls out and makes his way back in before he starts to skillfully roll his hips into yours. his hands take a hold of your hips to give him leverage as he sits upright. at this new angle, nicholas accelerates his movements as he pulls your legs upon his shoulders and places a kiss towards the bone of your ankle.

“hah, fuck, i love you so much—mmph! take it, baby, take it.” you whimper, trying your best to return the phrase as his tip continued to strike at that sweet spot of your cervix,

“i—ah, love you more!” you arch your back, pressing your hips up closer to his once he hit the target inside of you. nicholas moved so fluidly, the squelching sound of your arousal made it easy for him to do so. nicholas loved the way you just fit around him, you were so warm, so tight, and so inviting. he craved to be closer to you than ever. taking his hands from your hips, he placed them on the small of your back to meet you right where he his. your chest bounce against his as his motions don’t stop when grinding his hips vertically inside you.

“c’mon, baby, fuck me back.” he didn’t have to tell you twice. your clenched your thighs tighter around his torso for your hips to meet his rhythm as you bury wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and bury your face within his neck. he grunts as you clench tighter and tighter around him.

“m’so close, nick.” you whimpered out, digging your nails in the skin of his shoulders.

“just a little more, baby—wait f’me.” he urged, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine as you pushed your heated, sweaty body closer to his. with each stroke of his hips, he pushed you closer to the edge. that familiar ball of heat within you started to intensify if he kept going at this pace.

“shit. nick, please…” you gasped, your breath hitching as you try to hold it just for him, you knew exactly what he wanted to do. nicholas reached in between your bodies for his thumb to send stimulation to your clit. he moves in figure eights that’s sure to take you there. the cries of his name mixed with your consistent clenching of your walls around him caused the tempo to increase, he could let go at any moment, but he wants to share that moment with you, his wife.

“baby, look at me—cum with me, i got you.” he murmured, pulling you from his shoulder to maintain eye contact. there’s just something about the way you look at him that just makes him falter. your eyes resemble those of a doe, as you blink he notices the curl of natural eyelashes and the way your brows furrow with such concentration. it all makes him want to melt.

“ready?” he questions, his movements becoming faster and more erratic. you respond with a quick nod and instantly press your lips to his. with one final stroke, you felt yourself become undone. there’s pleasure washing over you like a great tsunami as your juices find themselves on your thighs and his cock. your body trembled as you repeatedly moaned out his name mixed with the occasional profanity. nicholas felt his own release course through him as he watched you ride out your high, his movements never ceasing. the mixture of your fluids started to drip from deep inside of you. after you both came down from your euphoric state, nicholas slowed the roll of his hips, his hands gently caressing your thighs as he pulled you in closer. he initiates a lax, yet sensual makeout session for a brief time before pulling away, giving you the most smitten of stares at your afterglow.

“are you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice as he looked into your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort.

“yeah, why’d you ask?” you nod, matching his concern.

“i don’t know, i think i went overboard with the whole punishment thing. if i hurt you i’m so—”

you cut him off with a kiss, “mm-mm. i’m fine, honey. besides, you looked sexy as hell while doing that.” you softly chuckle, caressing his sculpted jaw. “maybe i should tease you at work more often.” you quip, smiling as he joins in the laughter. “hm. maybe, because that was fucking amazing.” he places another kiss on your lips, “you’re amazing—i love you, mrs. chavez.” he proclaimed in a hushed tone. he took your left hand and giving the rock on your finger a peck.

“i love you more, mr. chavez.” you reciprocate the affection, rewarding him with more kisses. his hands continue to roam your body, soothing and grounding you within his lap. it wasn’t long until he pulled out gently to place you on the bed. you felt a shiver run through you at the loss of contact. nicholas gingerly placed you in arms bridal style and he leads the way to your shared bathroom where you both continue to indulge each other in the shower.

#nicholas alexander chavez #black reader #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x black reader #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez smut #nicholas fluff #wife!reader #actor x reader #actor x black reader #x black reader #x black!reader #nicholas chavez imagine #nicholas chavez fanfiction

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allmxtherzero · 1 year ago

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Sir, just getting a Slurpee with the girlies

#halo shitpost #america chavez #auggie doggie jellystone #comfort character #allmxmart #master chief

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pascaloverx · 2 months ago

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HAUNTED

Summary: You awaken from a two-year coma to find that Detective Lois has been eagerly awaiting your recovery, believing you might have witnessed something crucial to catching a serial killer. What you didn’t expect is to learn that she suspects your doctor of being the murderer—and even more shockingly, it appears that you are married to him. Now, you must uncover your lost memories and find out who Charlie Mayhew truly is to you.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm writing another fanfic featuring Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s character from Grotesquerie. The characters belong to the universe created by Ryan Murphy in the series Grotesquerie (2024). This fanfic will include violence, strong language, and adult content. It will portray the character Charlie Mayhew as a doctor. I hope you enjoy the fanfic, but there's nothing certain about its future. If you like this fanfic, please interact, leave comments. This author will be grateful for any interaction.

TWO FOUR

THREE

After a long bath, during which you took your time exploring every detail of the lavish bathroom, you found yourself standing before your wardrobe. It was massive, with mirrored doors that reflected your every movement. The clothes inside were mostly high-end—elegant dresses, tailored blazers, and pieces that leaned toward the extravagant. After some deliberation, you chose a red dress that bordered on being too seductive, with a daring slit that revealed your legs up to your thighs.

Tonight, you wanted to capture your husband’s attention even more. Once dressed, you carefully applied perfume and styled your hair, slipping into a pair of high heels that, while uncomfortable, perfectly complemented the dress. As you stood before the full-length mirror, you questioned whether the effort was worth it. You weren’t entirely sure if you remembered how to do makeup, but you made an attempt—enhancing your lashes with mascara and applying a bold red lipstick to match the dress.

When you finally left the master bedroom on the second floor, a nagging curiosity tugged at your thoughts. What was inside Charlie’s office that he was so intent on keeping locked? But your husband would be home soon, and the anticipation of dinner with him distracted you as you descended the stairs, feeling a flutter of excitement. Mary, the housekeeper, greeted you warmly and kindly offered to give you a tour of the house. She was an older woman with a sprightly demeanor and an air of maternal care. She walked you through each room, explaining their purposes and sharing small anecdotes about the home. Her warmth was comforting, and she mentioned that dinner would be ready in just a few minutes.

However, as the minutes stretched into an hour and then two, your excitement turned to unease. Charlie still hadn’t arrived. Mary, noticing your disappointment, eventually joined you for dinner, doing her best to fill the silence with polite conversation. Her sympathetic gaze was hard to ignore—it was clear she felt sorry for you.

"Mary, could you tell me where to find the key to my husband's office?" you ask, interrupting the conversation you had both been carrying on. Mary’s gaze shifts to the window, her eyes fixed on the emptiness outside, as though weighing her response.

"I really shouldn't meddle in the personal affairs of my employers," she says hesitantly, her voice soft but tinged with unease. "Just point me in the right direction, and I promise no one will ever hear a word about it," you reply, your tone gentle, almost coaxing, as you offer her a small, reassuring smile.

"Mrs. Mayhew, please don't put me in a difficult position," Mary says, her voice wavering as if she were truly torn. "I don’t remember anything, Mary. I have no awareness of my life beyond what surrounds me now. Please, help me. I beg of you," you implore, leaning forward and clasping her hand in yours. Your earnest gaze meets hers, and for a moment, she looks conflicted.

Finally, Mary sighs, her shoulders slumping as if weighed down by the burden of her decision. "There’s a drawer," she begins hesitantly, "in the last cabinet of the kitchen. It has a hidden compartment." Her words hang in the air, charged with secrecy and a hint of guilt, as she glances away, clearly regretting having spoken.

As if bound by an unspoken pact, you give Mary’s hand a gentle squeeze before leaving her seated, silently affirming her trust. You make your way to the kitchen, heart pounding in your chest as you search for the hidden compartment she described. Your fingers tremble as you fumble with the drawer, the anticipation almost unbearable. Then, with a soft click, you find it—the key.

The house is eerily quiet, save for the sound of your hurried footsteps as you ascend to the second floor. Clutching the key tightly, you waste no time unlocking the door to Charlie’s office. The moment it creaks open, you are greeted with a scene that steals the air from your lungs.

The room is a macabre gallery of horrors. A large bulletin board dominates one wall, adorned with photographs of mutilated bodies—cadavers sliced apart, their lifeless forms frozen in grotesque poses. One image depicts a body cleaved in two, while another shows a woman with her abdomen grotesquely opened; her distended belly suggests she was pregnant. Your breath catches as your eyes fall upon a photo of yourself, pinned among the others. Beneath it, in bold writing, is your name with the word "Suspect" scrawled beneath it. Not far from it is an image of Charlie, labeled "Primary Suspect."

The walls bear even more—a chilling collection of painted recreations of the crime scenes. The artistry is disturbingly exquisite, each brushstroke capturing the raw, visceral nature of the acts committed. The paintings are hauntingly lifelike, as though frozen moments from a nightmare. On the desk, amidst scattered papers, rests a dossier with your name emblazoned on the cover. It’s thick, filled with notes, photos, and what appears to be an exhaustive investigation into your life.

You carefully scrutinize every detail in the office, even though parts of your dossier have been redacted. Ensuring everything else remains undisturbed, you lock the office door behind you and descend the stairs with a fury that feels volcanic, ready to erupt. Your steps are hurried, each one fueled by the tempest of questions swirling in your mind. You want answers from Charlie—immediately. Not only about the grotesque contents of his office but also about what could have possibly been more important than dining with you tonight.

Reaching the base of the stairs, you place the key firmly into Mary’s hands. She looks at you without a word, her expression a mixture of understanding and quiet resignation.

"Mary, return this key to its proper place, and afterward, pack some of my clothing and essentials into the guest room. Once that is done, you’re dismissed for the evening," you say, your voice taut with suppressed rage. It takes all your composure to keep from snapping, your anger simmering beneath the surface—anger at your husband’s deceit, at that ghastly mural, at those haunting paintings, and most of all, at the invasion of your privacy. Mary nods silently and turns to summon Ed, who arrives shortly, adjusting his jacket as he steps into the house.

"Ed, I believe Mrs. Mayhew would like to see her husband," Mary says, her voice calm and matter-of-fact. Ed hesitates, glancing at you as though questioning whether this is wise, but your determined stride leaves no room for debate. Without waiting for further discussion, you step out of the house, your heels clicking sharply against the stone as you head toward the car. Settling into the back seat, you fasten your seatbelt.

"To the hospital," you command, your tone brooking no argument. Ed nods and starts the car, and the journey begins, the air in the vehicle heavy with your unresolved fury and the weight of the revelations awaiting confrontation.

You don’t take long to arrive at the hospital. At the reception desk, you’re informed that Dr. Mayhew is currently attending to a particular patient. Frustration wells up within you as you rack your mind for a plausible excuse to gain quicker access to Charlie. Fate, however, seems to be on your side. From across the hall, you spot your husband emerging with his patient, their conversation light and pleasant as they approach the hospital’s entrance. The moment Charlie's eyes meet yours, it’s as if he instantly senses that something is amiss. Yet, it’s not just his presence that catches your attention—it’s hers.

The woman with him feels unsettlingly familiar. You quickly piece it together: she was on the mural in Charlie’s office. If your memory serves you correctly, her photo was captioned with Detective Megan Duval alongside the words romantic past. Like a puzzle clicking into place, the realization stings.

"Darling, what are you doing here?" Charlie asks, his voice calm yet edged with unease. He steps away from Megan and approaches you, placing his hands gently on your arms as if to comfort you. But you brush him off with a sharp movement, your temper barely restrained.

"I came to confirm that Detective Lois might have been right after all. But aren’t you going to introduce us, dear husband?" you ask, your tone laced with biting sarcasm. Your eyes bore into him before flicking to Megan, whose expression hardens alongside Charlie's.

"I can introduce myself," Megan interjects, stepping forward with a measured tone. "I’m Detective Duval. I assure you, you’re jumping to conclusions. I’m here as a patient, and your husband is my doctor." She extends a hand toward you in a gesture of civility.

You glance at her outstretched hand, but the sight only fuels the jealousy roiling inside you. "Save your platitudes for someone gullible enough to believe them, Detective Duval. I won’t keep interrupting whatever this is. Have a good evening," you retort, your voice dripping with venom as you turn sharply on your heel.

Your emotions are a whirlwind—jealousy, betrayal, and anger all threatening to consume you. You think fleetingly about causing a scene but find yourself too overwhelmed to do so. You just want to leave. You make your way toward the car where Ed stands, waiting patiently. But before you can reach him, something stops you. Or rather, someone. Charlie strides past you, moving with alarming determination. Before you can react, he hoists you off the ground and unceremoniously throws you over his shoulder, completely ignoring your protests.

"What do you think you’re doing, Charlie Mayhew?" you demand, your voice seething with indignation as you struggle against his grip. He doesn’t respond immediately, his steps firm as he carries you away from the hospital doors, leaving both Megan and Ed in stunned silence.

He carries you with unwavering determination to what you assume is his car in the hospital parking lot. Despite your protests and the sharp slaps you land on his well-toned back, he doesn’t release you until he places you firmly in the back seat of the vehicle.

"If you wish to keep protesting, then fasten your seatbelt and save your anger for when we’re home," Charlie says, his voice steady yet laced with a quiet authority. He adjusts your position as best he can, ensuring you’re seated properly before closing the door with a firm click. Without another word, he circles to the driver’s side, the tension between you hanging heavy in the confined space of the car.

Without exchanging another word, Charlie drives you both home, his knuckles tight on the steering wheel and his demeanor tense. You notice his stress as he occasionally picks up his phone, typing out terse messages to someone. You make a pointed effort to ignore him, directing your focus instead to the passing scenery outside the window. It doesn’t take long before the car pulls into your driveway. The house looms ahead, quiet and still. Mary has likely already left for the evening, and Ed is nowhere to be seen, leaving no trace of having followed behind.

When Charlie parks the car, he steps out briskly and moves to your door. Without hesitation, he leans in, releasing your seatbelt with deliberate care. His face is close to yours, and the air feels charged, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on you both. "I’ll be waiting for you inside," he says in a low voice, his gaze steady as it locks with yours for a lingering moment before he straightens and walks toward the house.

You take a deep breath before stepping out of the car and heading toward the house. Once inside, everything appears meticulously arranged. On the dining table sits a prepared plate of food, likely Mary’s thoughtful gesture for Charlie. However, he stands in the middle of the living room, tension radiating from him as he nervously removes his tie and lab coat.

"I’ll be sleeping in the guest room," you state firmly, your tone brooking no argument. You turn on your heel to make your way to the guest room, but Charlie’s hand shoots out, gripping yours and halting your retreat.

"While I do regret leaving you waiting tonight," he begins, his voice steady but undercut with frustration, "that does not excuse your behavior. You have crossed a line." His eyes bore into yours, the weight of his words settling heavily in the space between you.

"I crossed a line?" you counter, your voice rising with incredulity. "And where exactly is this so-called line when you're the one keeping secrets from me? Or are you really going to stand there and tell me that you and Detective Duval share nothing more than a professional relationship? That there wasn’t a single other doctor in this city she could consult? Spare me, Charlie."

Your words are sharp, cutting through the tension as you step closer, your movements circling him like a predator confronting its prey. Despite the fury simmering between you, he seems unfazed—or perhaps too confident. He takes a deliberate step toward you, his hands moving to unbutton his dress shirt, the faint rustle of fabric punctuating the charged silence. A sly, almost teasing smile tugs at the corners of his lips, breaking through the serious expression he had worn moments before. His eyebrows lift slightly, a mischievous glint lighting up his eyes as if daring you to push further.

"Are we done with the accusations, or would you like to continue?" he finally asks, his tone low and edged with amusement, even as your frustration mounts.

"I fail to see the necessity of you removing your clothing while we’re in the middle of an argument," you say, your resolve wavering slightly as your focus slips from the reason for your confrontation. "But let me make one thing clear—you will not distract me. I won’t let you deceive me, Dr. Mayhew," you add, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as you can muster, though your words carry a partial untruth. You could reveal what you found in his office, expose the secrets he's so carefully hidden. Yet you don’t. Perhaps because you’re unsure of your next move, or perhaps because a part of you is, indeed, distracted. Your eyes betray you, drawn to the sharp lines of his well-defined chest as his shirt slides from his shoulders. A twinge of frustration flares within you—not just at him, but at yourself for letting him affect you this way.

"My beloved wife, if I were having an affair with Detective Duval, I’d be far more discreet than to let the entire hospital catch wind of it. But you are correct—Megan and I do not share a purely professional relationship. She was my girlfriend before I fell in love with you," Charlie says, his tone calm yet deliberate as he shrugs off the last of his shirt and tosses it onto the sofa. "In fact, our relationship ended because I chose you. What you perceive as a sign of infidelity is nothing more than two former lovers finally reconciling after years of bitterness. Does that satisfy you?" You study him carefully, your mistrust lingering despite the ring of truth in his words. There’s a certain earnestness in his voice, one that’s difficult to ignore, but the revelation stirs unease within you.

"If that is all you have to say, I shall take my leave," you declare, turning on your heel to retreat to the guest room. Yet your attempt is futile. Charlie’s arms encircle your waist, pulling you firmly against him. His lips graze the back of your neck, planting a soft kiss before trailing down to your collarbone. His warm breath fans against your skin, unraveling any coherent thoughts from your mind.

"I would never betray you, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice low and full of conviction. "For two years, all I ever wanted was to hold you in my arms; I would never risk losing you. You and I are more than husband and wife—we are partners." His face buries itself in the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent before pressing more kisses along your skin, his path leading to your ear. You say nothing, unable to form a response, and instead turn to face him. The tension between you is palpable, burning you from within. Your fingers graze his lips, as though committing their softness to memory. His arms tighten around you, drawing you closer with unrelenting need.

You cup his face in both hands, pulling him toward you. Your lips meet his with a hunger that surprises even you, as though only he could quell the yearning deep inside. His lips are impossibly soft against yours, and you hardly register when the kiss deepens. Your tongues dance together, a gentle yet fervent battle for dominance, while his hands roam your body—caressing your waist, gripping your hips, exploring the curve of your back. He begins to tug at your dress, lifting it as if desperate to rid you of it, guiding you toward the sofa. But before he can take control entirely, you pull him down first, making him sit as you take charge.

You settle onto his lap, feeling the undeniable evidence of his desire for you grow beneath you. Your nails trace over the expanse of his chest, leaving faint red marks as you savor the warmth of his skin under your fingertips. Charlie captures your lips again with fervor, his hands firmly gripping your waist, guiding your movements against him as if ensuring you stay anchored in his embrace. The heat between you is all-consuming, maddeningly intense.

Yet, the image of him with Megan flashes in your mind—a thorn of doubt piercing through your desire. The uncertainty gnaws at you, twisting your emotions. Without thinking, you bite down on his lower lip with more force than intended. Charlie pulls back sharply, a pained groan escaping his lips as the faint taste of his blood lingers on yours. "What the hell, Y/N!" he exclaims, his voice tinged with irritation, his gaze locking onto yours with a mix of confusion and frustration.

"That, Doctor Mayhew, is what you get for testing your wife’s patience," you retort, steadying yourself as you rise from his lap, your tone cool yet charged. "Goodnight, Charlie," you add with finality, stepping away from him and heading toward the guest room, your mind a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, anger, and something you can’t quite name. Charlie calls your name a few times, his voice softer now, almost pleading, but he ultimately lets you go, leaving you to your thoughts.

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ecc-poetry · 9 days ago

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WHAT YOU NEED TO BE WARNED Elisa Chavez

1. Do you know how much beauty there is in the world that you didn't create?

2. The whole time, I wanted to put my hands to the screen to stop you coming through. In 2007 while you squirreled away another victim, I met you in San Diego. Asked a question. She and I were both 18 that year, our hair and skin the same shade and more in common with each other than we'd ever have with you. But of course, I didn't know that. Then.

3. I have read your poems.

Yikes.

If you understand you have failed, and if you pretend not to understand you have also failed. Eating is not sacrifice. Even birds know how to mimic. For years I pretended I had never seen those poems of yours, but I couldn't forget what they taught me: how little you knew.

4. Some of us are starting to feel like all these stories that gleamed stardust were really bits of ground-up glass you tricked us into swallowing. This is complicated by knowing that watching us swallow ground-up glass would probably get you off. When I cut myself on something in my house, the blood is scarlet. Once I stepped on a pin, saw an inch of it vanish in the meat of my big toe, and all I thought was, "That's got to come out."

5. Other men got to me, of course, which I think is my point: Even at your worst, you are replaceable.

6. In the forest, just past the thorned-over castle where the princess sleeps, there is a woman. Do not rape her. Turn left, where there is another woman. Do not rape her either.

Do not trust the you that breaks the wishbone of no between his fingers and spells success with it. Do not trust the little chorus you raised up from radishes.

Sometimes the act of handing out instructions demonstrates why they will not work.

7. Don't worry. Most of us will outlive you, and then we'll get to tell the story. I'm drafting your eulogy as we speak: It's an anthology of tricks women learned to survive you, how they chewed through your paper cages to hold each other, how they are putting out new leaves.

8. I get my mushrooms from the supermarket or the farmer's stand. I am not a myth about creation. Just like you are mainly a master of holding the truth underwater until it stops moving.

You ghost.

You could strip a thousand women and you still wouldn't have anything.

#neil gaiman #cw: violence against women #poem #cw: sa #cw: neil gaiman #cw: blood

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oldsoul007 · 23 days ago

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snowed in

nicholas chavez x reader

summary: y/n gets body slammed by a handsome stranger and he owes her one

a/n: kissing

It was one of those rare, perfect winter days—crisp air, bright sunshine, and a fresh layer of snow coating the mountain like powdered sugar. I had always loved Giant Steps. The freedom of the slopes, the rush of the wind in my face, the sound of my board carving through fresh powder—it was my escape.

Today, I was pushing herself. The Black Diamond run was calling me, and I was determined to master it. I took a deep breath as I clicked my boots into my snowboard and glanced at the trail ahead, feeling the anticipation in my chest.

But the mountain, as it always does, had a way of surprising me.

I zipped down the moderate slope with ease, feeling the rhythm of the turns, my body moving almost instinctively as I weaved between trees and rocks. I was focused, lost in the flow of the snow, until suddenly, the world tilted. A jarring impact slammed into me, sending me flying through the air and crashing to the ground with a thud. My board spun off to the side, and the world was a blur of snow and sky.

For a second, everything was still. Then, a voice broke through the haze of confusion.

“Oh my God, are you okay?!”

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision. I pushed myself up onto her elbows, groaning as I sat up. Her head throbbed a little, and there was a cold patch of snow down the back of my neck, but I was mostly okay. I looked up and saw a guy standing there, his helmet askew, clearly just as disoriented as I was. He was tall, with wide eyes and a slightly panicked expression on his face.

“Did you just—” I began, only to realize what had happened.

He had barreled straight into me. I hadn’t even seen him coming.

“I am so sorry,” he said, rushing over to me. He held out his hand, but his voice was full of genuine concern. “I didn’t see you. Are you hurt?”

I hesitated for a second, then took his hand, letting him help me up. My legs wobbled slightly, but I was fine. A little shaken, but no real damage done.

“I’m okay,” I said, dusting snow off my jacket. I looked at him, trying to hide my amusement. “But you—how the hell did you not see me?”

He winced, an embarrassed grin creeping across his face. “It’s my first time on this trail, and I might have underestimated the speed.”

“Clearly,” I teased, inspecting him as he straightened up. He looked like the kind of guy who was a little too confident on a snowboard for someone who just ran into people on the slopes. “You look like you’ve taken a few spills yourself.”

He laughed, his face flushed from the cold and the adrenaline. “Yeah, well, if I’m being honest, I’ve been focusing more on speed than, you know… avoiding people.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his self-deprecating humor. “Well, next time, try to aim for the trees, not the snowboarders.”

He chuckled, clearly relieved that I wasn’t angry. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’m Nicholas, by the way. And you are…?”

“Y/n,” I replied, still brushing off snow. “And just so we’re clear, I’m not mad. But I’m definitely not going to let you off easy either.”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh yeah? What do you have in mind?”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I took off, carving my way down the slope. The cold wind whipped through me, and the thrill of it sent an adrenaline rush through my veins. Nicholas shortly following behind, he wasn’t just fast—he was skilled, weaving effortlessly between the trees and pushing hard on the turns. But I had the edge. I knew this slope better, and my experience let me maintain a smooth, controlled speed.

As we neared the bottom, both were neck and neck, with only a few hundred feet between us and the bottom. The tension was thick in the air, and for a second, it felt like everything had slowed down. I could hear the rush of Nicholas’s board behind me, feel the weight of the competition, and I pushed harder, determined not to let him win.

But then, just as we neared the final stretch, Nicholas made a risky move—he tried to cut inside and take a sharper angle to overtake me.

It was a mistake.

Me, seeing the move coming, did the opposite—I leaned into the curve, taking a wider, more controlled path. As Nicholas’s edge caught the snow, he lost his balance and tumbled sideways, landing with a loud whoosh of snow.

I skidded to a stop at the bottom of the slope, heart pounding with the thrill of the race. I turned to see Nicholas struggling to get back up, his snowboard sideways on the snow. I couldn’t help but laugh, both at the absurdity of the moment and at how ridiculous he looked.

“Looks like I won,” I called out, grinning from ear to ear.

Nicholas stood up slowly, brushing off his board and shaking his head, a sheepish grin on his face. “I wasn’t aware we were racing. I should’ve known better than to challenge a pro.”

I laughed, my chest still warm from the race. “You’re not bad, for someone who almost took me out earlier.”

Nicholas walked over to me, shaking his head with a mock sigh. “I’ll get you next time. I’ll just have to practice not running into people first.”

“That’s probably a good place to start,” I teased, but there was something about the way he looked at me—genuine, easy, and sincere—that made my heart do a little flip.

“Well, if I’m going to keep up with you, I might need some more lessons,” Nicholas said, his tone light, but there was a hint of something more behind his words.

I smiled. “I could give you a few pointers…? You know, as a reward for not crashing into me again?”

Nicholas grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Deal. But I’m picking the spot next time.”

I laughed, feeling that familiar warmth spread through my chest. As we walked toward the lodge together, it wasn’t just the cold air that made my cheeks flush—it was something about Nicholas, something easy and effortless between us, like we had always been destined to meet on this snow-covered mountain.

And maybe, just maybe, this would be the beginning of something much more than a race to the bottom.

After the unintentional body slam on the slopes, Nicholas couldn’t shake the feeling that he owed me more than just a simple apology. The crash had been epic, and while we both had laughed about it afterward, he knew it wasn’t just a funny story—it was a moment that had probably left me with more than just a bruised ego.

“Alright, I think I owe you more than just an apology,” Nicholas said, his voice warm with a hint of playfulness as they trudged off the slope. “Dinner at the resort. My treat.”

I was brushing snow off her jacket and shaking my head with a smile, raised an eyebrow. “Is that how you apologize? Body slam someone, then feed them?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Only if I really like them,” he said, his tone light but sincere.

We made our way to the lodge, the heavy snow falling softly around us, the warmth of the resort a welcome contrast to the cold mountain air. Inside, the restaurant was cozy, lit with flickering candles and the hum of quiet chatter from other skiers and snowboarders unwinding after a long day on the slopes.

This time, though, as we slid into a booth, Nicholas did something he hadn’t done earlier. He removed his helmet, revealing his face for the first time. I hadn’t realized just how much of his appearance had been hidden beneath it. There was something striking about him—sharp features, tousled brown hair, and those deep, brown eyes. A subtle but genuine warmth radiated from him, and it made me wonder why he’d kept himself so closed off earlier, always staying behind the safety of the helmet and his quiet demeanor.

My gaze lingered for a moment, taking him in, before I caught myself. Nicholas, noticing the way I was looking at him, smirked. “Don’t tell me the body slam left you speechless,” he teased, though there was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

I chuckled, shaking my head. “No, I just didn’t realize you were hiding a face under that helmet.” I gestured toward his messy hair with a grin. “It’s a pleasant surprise, I guess.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat. “Just wait until you get to know me better. I’m full of surprises.” There was a certain confidence in his voice now, a comfort that hadn’t been there earlier when we were on the slopes.

The night unfolded with easy conversation. We talked about everything and nothing—how the snowboarding season was going, favorite spots to visit, even which lifts were the least crowded on the mountain. It was refreshing, the way the awkwardness from earlier had melted away, leaving space for genuine connection.

For a moment, I realized that what had started as an embarrassing accident was turning into something unexpectedly pleasant. He was charming, funny, and there was something about him that was easy to like once I saw past the helmet and the casual bravado. By the time dessert came, with chocolate mousse and a shared slice of pie, I realized that the night wasn’t about making up for the fall—it was about something far more simple: two people getting to know each other.

After dinner, we stepped outside into the cold night air, the snow still falling gently. Nicholas gave me a side glance, his breath misting in the cold. “So… no rematches?”

I shook my head, smiling. “I think we’re even. You knocked me down, you bought me dinner… I’m good.”

He smirked, but there was a soft sincerity in his expression. “Fair enough. But I do owe you one more thing—next time, I’ll make sure I stay out of your way.”

I laughed, my breath puffing in the cold air. “I think I can live with that.”

As we walked side by side toward the ski lift, the tension between us had completely dissipated. The day had started with an unexpected collision, but it had ended with something far more meaningful—a connection, grounded in shared moments and the quiet understanding that sometimes, even a body slam can lead to something worth remembering.

After a thrilling day on the slopes, where Nicholas accidentally body-slammed me during a particularly tricky descent, we both found ourselves laughing off the incident in the resort's hot tub.

Seeing Nicholas under all the ski gear left me nearly speechless with his toned muscles. The cold mountain air had already started to bite at our cheeks, but as Nicholas and I eased into the steaming water of the hot tub, the heat was a welcome contrast. We had just come off the slopes, our bodies sore from hours of snowboarding, but the warmth of the water melted the tension from our muscles.

I leaned back against the side of the tub, letting out a long sigh as I closed my eyes. “This is perfect,” I murmured, my voice soft.

Nicholas glanced at me, a small smile curling on his lips. His hair was damp from the snow, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold, but he was content. “I told you the hot tub was the best part of the day.”

I smirked, playfully splashing a bit of water toward him. “You’re right. I didn’t think I’d be this sore after today, but it’s worth it.” My eyes met his, lingering for a moment longer than usual.

The warmth of the steam made everything feel a little hazy, and the quiet of the mountain was only broken by the sound of the bubbling water. Nicholas shifted closer to me, feeling a pull that went beyond just the chill in the air.

I turned slightly, meeting his gaze again. There was something in my eyes, something that wasn’t there before. The playful banter had faded, replaced by something softer. My lips parted just enough to let a breath escape, and Nicholas couldn’t help but lean in.

Before we knew it, we were close, our faces inches apart. He pulled me closer with my legs on each side of his. I looked at him for a heartbeat, as if waiting for permission, and then, without a word, I closed the distance.

Our lips met, gently at first, a tentative kiss that quickly deepened as the world outside of the hot tub seemed to fade away. It was warm, even in the chill of the evening air. My fingers brushed against the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the water bubbled around us, but neither of us noticed the temperature. We were lost in the moment, the weight of the day and the world beyond forgotten.

When we finally pulled away, our foreheads touched, both of them breathing a little heavier, as if we had just come up for air after a long dive.

“I guess this is the best part of the day,” Nicholas whispered, a smile tugging at his lips.

I laughed softly, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Definitely.”

We exchanged a glance, our eyes locking with an intensity that spoke volumes. Without a word, Nicholas reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering on my skin.

But soon, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent. Nicholas cupped my face, his hands pulling me closer, while my arms slid around his neck, drawing him in even more.

The heat of the water surrounded us, but it was the warmth of our kiss that made everything feel electric. Time seemed to stand still as we lost ourselves in the moment, our lips moving together with a rhythm that felt completely natural, completely right.

I gently rolled my hips against his, pulling him closer. “Fuck” he breathed against my mouth.

The soft sounds of the night—distant chirps and the gentle splash of the water—faded into the background, leaving only the feeling of each other’s breath, the pressure of our lips, and the undeniable pull between us.

And for a moment, we stayed there in the warmth of the water, wrapped in the quiet of the mountains, both content and a little breathless from the kiss, knowing that this was a memory we would keep for a long time.

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