#spencer cassadine x black!reader

[neighbourscat]

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄 , spencer cassadine

EVERYONE HAS A QUIET ESCAPE.

𓈒  ˙ ꪆৎ   ꣹  ۫  𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . estate owner!spencer c. X estate chef!black!fem!reader. || second person ( you, yours, you’re ) + lowercase intended.

+ synopsis. making breakfast was your way of reaching out, of letting him know, wordlessly, that he wasn’t alone. it wasn’t about the food itself but about giving him a moment of comfort, a pause from everything weighing on him .. a quiet escape.

+ cw. mature language! & indications of social status difference between spencer cassadine and black!reader. || other than that, no warnings! ( a lot of italics! & sorry if my writing of spencer cassadine is poor and inaccurate, i haven’t watched general hospital enough. the storylines are so confusing to follow /: )

+ nali’s notes; food is a love language! reader is heavily inspired by ayo edebiri || sydney adamu from the bear! reader is three flowers tall! so gen-z, so hilariously awkward, so silly, so dorky, so sweetie & so patient with cranky spencer cassadine. such a doll! reader loves sza & chappell roan & beabadoobee! i love writing a reader who rambles a lot. wordcount :: 4.0k+

+ more; short does not follow any specific plotline of general hospital!

+ to be played: normal girl, sza. || alternative: there she goes, the la’s.

EVERYONE HAS A QUIET ESCAPE.

LAWRENCE, NEW YORK || DECEMBER 4, 2023

the king’s market stood at the very edge of lawrence; a small town within a big city .. . where the paint peeled off old brick buildings, and faded signs creaked in the december wind. yet, despite its weathered exterior, the supermarket was lawrence’s unexpected gem ( as was shawnda’s boutique, toni’s kitchen, minnie’s nails, the sullivan community college, that dunkin’ on mccarter road, brunch box, and express deli ) — a place that managed to thrive against all odds. its large windows glowed warmly under flickering neon lights, as if the store itself were proud of what it held inside.

you skid to a harsh stop — your brother’s old navy blue bicycle croaked with each pedal, it practically begged to be thrown into a junkyard — and immediately lose balance. you caught yourself before the tumble could come; the bottoms of your ragged, black vans scraping at the concrete and your thumbs accidentally brushing against the bike’s bells . .. . the scratchy ringgg alerted the cluster of pigeons, causing them to flap away, and made the mother pushing her big-enough-to-walk-on-his-own toddler side-eye you.

“mornin’ . ..” you raised a shy hand in apology, leaning your brother’s aged bike against king’s dried bike rack. you snatched up your bundle of reusable tote bags from the screwed-on basket and dug into the jumble for the bicycle’s lock; the new one ordered from amazon. “o .. kayyyy,” you sung to yourself, wrapping the chain link over a rack pole. hearing it click and seeing that it remained in place, you let out a deep breath .. relieved.

king’s market is quiet, but it’s a comforting quiet, broken only by the hum of old refrigeration units and the faint rustle of a distant shopper. sunlight filtered through the small, high windows, casting a soft glow over the shelves and illuminating specks of dust floating lazily through the air — king’s market was different from what was expected. though the aisles were narrow and the checkered linoleum tiles were cracked and crumbled and lifting out of place, each row and shelf was organized perfectly.

a faint scent of earth and herbs drifted from the produce section, where vegetables sat stacked in bright, fresh columns. local greens glistened with a crispness that rivaled any high-end market over in port charles ( you believed ), their colors vivid against the worn wooden bins. tomatoes were perfectly ripe, their skins taut and glowing, and bunches of parsley and dill leaned together like old friends, filling the air with a sharp, green fragrance.

in the far back, there was a small bakery nook filled with golden loaves, round bagels, fluffy croissants, beautifully-decorated cupcakes and soft cookies made with old-fashioned love, managed by antonella cardenas. beside it, a mini flower-shop section . .. . you’ve made it your business to circle by during your early morning grocery-runs.

you ripped the bud from your ear and let the wire hang down your front, dangling and brushing against the puff of your dark-green winter jacket. “tev?” you gave the worktop a knock, not too loud but hard enough to be heard throughout the mini-kitchen. tevin’s butcher counter was simple but spotless, manned by an old man who knew every cut by heart, arranging steaks and chops with the precision of an artist.

“tee-tee?!” still, nothing or no one came to you — you knew the mini-kitchen was open. the lights were on and the faucet was running. “i’ve got some .. fucked-up, jacked-up, cracked-up shit to tell you, tev.” you were careful with your curses, not giving them their regular intensity and over-exaggeration. “tevi?! it’s work shit!” crickets. that usually worked. you stopped knocking on the cold counter and dropped back onto your heels. “i know you can hear me, tevin,” spoken under your breath and while you were unraveling your wired-headphones.

and you started onward . .. realizing that it might’ve been a good thing tevin wright hadn’t come out to the register. you weren’t the best at lying on the spot. you had a little tell of it; while for many, it was laughing or evasive smiling or rapid blinking or coughing and clearing their throat, avoiding eye contact; like looking up at the ceiling, or those self-soothing gestures or being too fidgety with their fingers and clothing, you overused defensive phrases: like “honestly,” ���to tell you the truth,” or “believe me”.

with sza’s ‘sweet november’ playing faintly in your ears .. you stand in the center of a narrow, softly lit aisle; shelves of hand-drawn packaging designs, others in plain jars that let the rich red or green hues of their contents do the talking. your hands hovered over two jars — one labeled locally-made marinara, the other a small-batch pesto. your fingers grazed the cool glass of both as you considered them, your full brows knit in thought. it’s just .. fucking pasta sauce, you could hear your mother’s grating voice. pick up a jar and go.

you lifted one jar, squinting at the label, as though weighing the memories each flavor might stir up. a faint smile tugged at your lips as you remembered how your father would make a whole affair out of selecting ingredients, debating over spices and sauces as if it were a high-stakes decision. are you kidding me? this is ridiculous. you are just like your father. half-insult.

you set it back down, you reached for the other choice, your gaze thoughtful as you further debated which would give your evening dish that extra something — sza’s song of past experiences fading into chappell roan’s love me anyway — you set that jar back into place and grabbed the third option. the one with the hand-drawn design. it was cute and you made a mental note to peel the wrapping off before use.

PORT CHARLES, NEW YORK || DECEMBER 4, 2023

the kitchen of the cassadine estate was a masterpiece of traditional russian design, combining rustic elegance with a sense of historic charm. the kitchen was a vast, open space dominated by an enormous central island, topped with dark, veined marble that has been polished to a mirror-like finish. cabinets of deep, rich wood line the walls, their surfaces gleaming under the sparkle of hanging iron chandeliers with exposed filament bulbs that cast a golden light over everything.

every detail exuded craftsmanship: the hand-carved moldings, the wrought-iron handles on each cabinet, and the aged brass fixtures that gave the room a touch of vintage grandeur. pots and pans of shined copper hung in neat rows from a ceiling rack, their warm glow offset by the cool, tiled walls in muted creams and grays, which add a subtle neatness.

a massive stone hearth sat against one wall, its archway adorned with intricate, hand-laid tiles. within, a wood-fired oven emitted a faint, smoky scent. to the side, a marble-topped counter held a selection of oils and aged vinegars kept in glass jars, each label handwritten in russian script.

large windows near the farmhouse sink overlooked the estate’s gardens, letting in natural light that poured across the butcher-block counters and casted shadows on the tiled floor. this floor — worn but immaculate — was ice cold underneath your soaking wet polka-dot socks. in one hand, your pair of vans ( fiona mccall, the estate’s lead-housekeeper, and her team were stern and meticulous in ensuring that the grand halls, ballrooms, libraries, staircases, and more importantly, the floors remained pristine ), your phone with the letterboxd app still open and dropped into a shoe, in the other hand; your grocery tote-bag you were to keep in the employee mini-fridge.

you faked a bad cough, in attempt to fake clear your throat — “sorry, goodmorning .. mr. cassadine.” — still, you grabbed his attention. spencer cassadine stood at the central island with his elbows resting on the chilled surface, his head lowered, lost in thought. the weight of family expectations pressed heavily on him, and the stillness around him offered a brief moment of respite .. before hearing your voice, of course.

your presence filled the room with a sense of . .. . play and awkwardness. spencer studied you: your winter jacket over a simple, faded-once-graphic t-shirt, wrinkled mom jeans, hints of gold jewellery, your box-braids loosely tied back with baby pink crochet yarn, giving you that .. ‘relaxed’ look, he guessed you were going for. it wasn’t effortless, it was messy. spencer’s gaze switched to your shoeless feet .. as did your own eyes — you took one large step to the left and landed behind a counter, only letting your upper half show.

“fiona-ms. mccall, i mean,” you began, your shoulders tense and your arms cramping from the hanging shoes and bags of groceries, “and those-sorry, your floors, sir. she’s serious ‘bout ‘em, that one. i mean, her team too. they’re like .. so serious about th’ floors .. i had’ta walk around in my socks-“ you stopped before continuing on. seeing him stand there with that signature blank, cold look on his face only shut you up ( you opted not to speak on how you dropped your dunkin’ coffee on the way here ) and drove sickness deeper into your heart.

you looked away from a moment, taking a shaky breath. “i should, uhm ..” you faced him again, “sorry, mr. cassadine .. my arms are, like, getting ready to snap off. like, actually.”

spencer watched you waddle off into the shared-employee closet. he straightened a bit, his fists carefully drumming at the marble surface as he waited for your return — though, he wouldn’t admit to anyone that he had been ‘waiting’ for you. after a moment, he took a step aside and tilted his head slightly, giving himself a clear view into the employee closet; with its array of lockable, highschool-style cell phone lockers . .. . you were shoving your winter jacket into the available top shelf, struggling on your tip-toes.

when you landed on your heels again, spencer took his previous position; leaning against the central island — “so, um . ..? sorry, but why are you back here, anyways?” you called out, but gave spencer not even a second to process the question. you peeked your head out of the employee closet, braids no longer tied back but cascading over your shoulder. “sorry, this is your family’s kitchen. you have, uhm .. every right to be back here. sorry.” you disappeared into the employees’ closet again, leaving spencer to be alone and to .. somewhat try and understand you.

“you apologize a lot?” he asked, his voice steady and even. not a question, but more so a statement.

dropping your hands from your braided bun, you moved away from the wall mirror and out of the closet saying: “trauma response,” unapologetic and freely, fixing your white button-up and fresh apron, “i can’t help but feel bad for a person literally every-time i-“

“what?” a deep grumble. too forward. he’s not one of your friends, you reminded yourself. you can’t speak to him like he’s on your level — rather, like you’re on his level. “sorry, mr. cassadine.” again with the sorry.

spencer huffed and in a low tone, “you can stop with the ‘mister’.” not a request, but an instruction. unsure of what to say next, in bad habit; “i’m sorry?” his eyes narrowed and you bit down on your lower lip, stopping yourself from the ‘m’ word and the ‘s’ word. “i actually get asked about that .. like, a lot. the ‘s’ word, thing. i’m kind of working on it. kind of.”

“kind of?”

“mhm-yeah. takin’ it day by day . .. . kind of. you know what i mean?” no comment, no further movement. your shoulders drooped, but you were okay. you were in an okay mood this early, december morning even after dropping your dunkin’ coffee. you had on new, warm socks and had beabadoobee in one ear — “you still use ..” with a hand, spencer gestured toward his own ear, “wires?”

you stared down at your phone, the adapter snug in the charging port; ‘pictures of us’ by beabadoobee at its first full minute. the slander on ‘wired headphones’ was so unnecessary and so childish. without thinking: “i’m sorry?” you paused a moment to recollect and what looked to be a smile began tugging at spencer’s lips. “i mean-who doesn’t? .. who doesn’t like wires?”

“many people.”

a weird chuckle, “what? literally so many people like wires. i don’t-? what is so wrong with wires?”

“what isn’t wrong with wires?”

“i don’know? that’s why i’m asking you ‘what’s wrong with wires’?

“everything.” and that was that. spencer had the last word, though you disagreed completely. silence fell for eight seconds, maybe nine, before he asked; “what are you, uh ..?” shoving his veiny hands into the front pockets of his dark jeans, “who are you listenin’ to, anyways?”

“beabadoobee.” you paused the song. “her beatopia album. it’s so good, seriously.” a part of you considered sharing the unused earbud, but that would require closeness and sharing wired headphones was an intimate gesture, a chance to bond with another — that couldn’t be done with airpods or those chunky beat headphones. “i’ll come over to you-you just stay there.”

spencer met you halfway around the marble island, going against your statement without a second thought. the gap between you and spencer was intentional, on both ends. he kept himself from standing too close, as did you. “okay, so, if bea’s not your cup of tea, or, uhm, you don’t like her sound or somethin’ .. justttt, uh, don’t say anything-y’know?” spencer listened intently, hands at his sides and the soft skin of his fingers rubbing the stitches of his dark jeans. “sorry, that wasn’t exactly ‘polite’-“

“play the song.”

“mhm. yeah.” your index finger tapped down on the rewind button .. pictures of us started, the acoustic guitar entrance soothing and inviting — “the words take awhile to, um . .. actually begin, sor-nope.” spencer smiled faintly at your effort, giving a light thumbs up. you appreciated the gesture, warmth slowly growing within your chest, causing you to chew the inside of your cheek.

with the pad of your thumb, you dragged at the progress bar, watching the thin line skip forward in small jumps, stopping at the right mark. you let your finger rest, satisfied as bea’s lyrics finally filled the air.

“i’ve watched that.” right under the music widget had been a notification from letterboxd: w-katie02 liked your review of the elephant man ( 1980 )! “it’s one of my favorites,” he continued, almost hesitant. “yeah?” a little, genuine smile as your fingers brushed the edge of your phone. “yeah.” spencer ended there, seemingly restricted; as if he’d just given something away he hadn’t meant to.

“do you have letterboxd?” just the most important app on your cellular device. well, one of them, certainly. by the glint in your eyes, spencer could feel the unmistakable love you held — because for you, it was so much more than just a platform; it was like a never-ending journal of emotions, insights, and memories. your perfect profile was filled with entries — some thoughtful and delicate and passionate, others scattered and messy and raw, like snapshots of your silly life in film. you’d spent many hours logging your thoughts after each movie, capturing how it made you feel, who you’d watched it with, what kind of day it had been . .. . you never missed a detail.

“what’s a .. letterboxd?” you unlocked your phone in under a second — “it’s like goodreads, but for movies,” you said as you clicked the app open. spencer, though confused and having never heard of goodreads, kept his lips locked and waited for your explanation: “letterboxd is immediate, like no other platform.” you held out your phone and he took hold of it; mindful of the need to avoid physical contact.

“social media in a way that’s like-“ spencer’s finger swiped up and you inched inward, lifting onto your tip-toes to watch as he did so. “-ultra safe and super cuddly. there’s no politics, close-minded straight men, or mentions of global crises, the sad stuff essentially, y’know? .. well, okay, actually-i guess, if you’re on the wrong side-“

“there are sides?”

“so, it’s . .. . yeah.”

“mm.” — pictures of us faded into don’t get the deal — your gaze shifted between his working finger and his face. you didn’t know what he’d been doing exactly, but you paid attention to how his eyes zipped side to side under his eyelids and how his brows lightly scrunched and how he sniffled softly every now and again and how his tongue darted out to bring moisture back to his lips. and in this very moment, this quiet moment of, what you assumed was nothing, he looked . .. . approachable. it surprised you how easily he fit into this small moment, his attention focused on something so trivial.

spencer cassadine — extra polished, effortlessly confident, someone who belonged to a world you’d only ever seen from a distance — handling your phone as though you and him were two equals. the four fingers of his right hand nearly covering every collected sticker.

to you, he really was someone you had heard about in passing, the kind of person with a surname people spoke of in hushed tones, heavy with history. he seemed so different up close, less like a distant idea of wealth and reputation, and more like just .. a person, with his own subtle quirks and quiet intensity — it felt like a rare glimpse beyond his guarded expression, easing the image you’d carried of him.

you tried not to overthink it, letting yourself just be here, grounded by the purr of the kitchen and beabadoobee in the background and the heat of his presence . .. .

then came a muffled ping; spencer returned your phone and retrieved his own from his back pocket. that dry, somber demeanor was back and whatever that quiet moment was, was long gone. you clicked off beabadoobee — your eyes searching his face for a hint of what could have been troubling him. “can i make you something?” a sweet offer. a sweetness that spencer cassadine had not known, or been at all familiar with.

he blinked up from his screen. “what?”

“have you eaten breakfast yet?”

spencer shook his head.

“food always helps.” just as you pivot and circled the counter, he spoke: “i’ve already taken too much of your free time. i’ve interrupted your routine,” clearly trying to brush off your sweet offer, though his stomach growled in response to the idea of food.

“it’s fine.”

“i can’t let you ..”

“seriously?” you stopped in your tracks, barely smiling. “come on, seriously. c’mon. i can prepare somethin’ quickly. i don’t mind, really,” you reassured. and spencer felt a flicker of thankfulness at your inclination; you weren’t offering to impress him or because he was who he was, but out of the kindness of your heart. “thank you.”

with a nod, you moved to the large refrigerator, opening the door with purpose. you pulled out a few eggs and some vegetables, your movements deliberate and calm. the rhythmic sounds of your chopping and sautéing completed the kitchen.

as you worked, spencer was leaned over the counter .. having just downloaded letterboxd and putting together his own movie lists. he found your account, remembering the username in the top left corner, and added a few of your saved movies to his new “to watch” list. “how long have you been cooking for?”

“mom put a knife in my hand at five, so i’d say since then,” you replied, glancing up briefly and laughing seeing the concerned look on his face — you weren’t joking. “it’s therapeutic,” you said then, eyes down again. “i find real comfort in it-a quiet escape, like my letterboxd. plus, feeding people is a nice way to show you care.”

your words struck a chord with him. he could see how the kitchen was your sanctuary, just as it had become a momentary refuge for him. “i can understand that,” he admitted, his gaze wandering to the window, where the light falling snow touched down and melted. “i’ll find my ‘quiet escape’.”

“you don’t have one now?”

“unh-unh.”

“that should be impossible. what do you look for when you need a moment?”

“i walk around and sit in silence.”

“that sounds awful.”

“it’s not the worse thing ever.”

“no, i guess not. but what do you love to do? like really, truly love to do-imagine, ‘kay, it’s your very last hour alive .. ‘nd you’re trapped in a dome with only th’ materials needed for your number one hobby, what is it?”

spencer’s mind went blank for a few seconds. he didn’t write, he didn’t read, he couldn’t draw, he couldn’t paint — “i like the gym.”

“okay .. cool.” you smiled and scratched at an eyebrow, “um, but seriously. what’s the hobby?”

“.. nothing.”

“-shit.”

“yeah.” a hopeless shrug. “i never got into an art or instrument. nothing that requires serious skill and talent.” spencer turned off his phone and held his hands together, fingers interlocking.

“well . .. a hobby doesn’t have ‘ta require serious skill or talent. and it doesn’t necessarily have ‘ta be an art.” you told him, matter-of-factly; knowing and practical. “like bird-watching. don’t have’ta be in your sixties to do it.” dropping your spoon onto a paper towel, you went for one of the five spice cabinets and dug inside. “i collect cool things.” you were a collector of very fine whatchamacallits, doo-dads, and trinkets; which ranged from mail stamps, pink paper clips, buttons of all shapes and colors and sizes, unique beer bottle caps, and stickers — your junk-sticker phone case is evidence.

“what-like rocks?”

“sometimes. marbles too.”

“marbles?”

“marbles.” firmly, “mancala pieces.”

“what’s a mancala piece?”

“y’know ..? mancala?”

“what’s mancala?”

“what’s mancala?” in disbelief, you released a defeated sigh and shook your head. “i have a mobile version, i can explain the game after this.” yyou stretched your arm over and with a knuckle, tapped down on your phone screen; you had little over an hour left. “jus’ta confirm, i will be explaining the game.”

no objection.

“but back to hobbies-“ spencer heard your voice and instantly flipped his phone back over. “-what’s an instrument you’ve wanted to play?” piano, there was no need to think about it. the first time spencer had heard a piano, the melody was soft and almost a whisper, beckoning him away from the clamor of the gala crowd. he drifted toward the sound, drawn in as if by a spell —

— he saw the grand piano in the corner of the room, its sleek black body gleaming under the warm lights. a man was seated there, his fingers gliding over the keys with such fluid grace that spencer could hardly believe it . .. . and in that moment, he felt an overwhelming urge .. not just to listen, but to touch the keys, to know how it felt to draw out a sound so moving and pure. but he was only a child, and the instrument seemed impossibly large, as if it belonged to another world.

and years passed .. life had filled up with other obligations and distractions, and the closest he’d come to a piano was brushing his fingers over the keys of one owned by a close friend or at another sprawling event. but every now and then, when he heard the low throb of a piano in a restaurant or wherever, he felt that same pull, that longing that had begun in the corner of a crowded room so many years before, waiting patiently for him to return.

“piano,” he answered. though he had no idea what happiness looked like for him, he was sure that starting with piano would make that discovery easier — he was so incredibly detached from himself and the more you spoke to him, you could tell.

“i know you can learn,” you said, kindly.

“i don’t have the time.”

“not even five minutes? you can download an app and start slow .. memorize piano stuff.”

“you have a piano app?”

“no, but i can find one for you.” his dark eyes brightened imperceptibly. “i bet there’s a lot. there’s an app for everything .. unfortunately .. kind of.” you mumbled the last bit, plating his breakfast with care. “.. here. simple, but it’ll help.”

in grabbing himself clean silverware — for the first time, he felt the possibility of letting someone in, even if just a little.

[greengoblinswifey]

All Mine— Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— nicholas gets jealous as you spend more time a guy for a presentation but he shows you, him and everyone else your’e his in the best way possible. based on this request.

warnings— dom!nicholas then sub!nicholas, jealous!nicholas, possessiveness, oral(f), fingering, rough sex, choking, voyeurism, praise kink, daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

Nicholas had never been the jealous type—or so he thought. But the last few weeks had tested that notion in ways he hadn’t expected. You’d been spending hours with Brandon, working on your presentation, and while he trusted you completely, he couldn’t ignore the way it felt seeing you and Brandon talking and laughing together. Brandon was popular in the frat, known for his charm, and Nicholas couldn’t help but feel a pang of frustration whenever he saw the two of you together, his stomach twisting at the thought of anyone else seeing you the way he did.

One evening, Nicholas overheard Brandon talking with some other guys at the frat house. “Man, she’s hot,” Brandon had said, just loud enough for him to hear. “I wouldn’t mind spending more time with her.”

Nicholas felt his hands clench involuntarily, and it took everything in him not to say something or, worse, do something he’d regret. Instead, he walked away, trying to ignore the knot of jealousy tightening in his chest.

Finally, the day of the presentation arrived. You and Brandon presented flawlessly, earning an immediate 95%. But as you wrapped up and turned back toward Nicholas, he was already heading over to you, his expression soft but determined. Without a word, he took your hand and pulled you close, pressing his lips to yours in a deep, passionate kiss right in front of Brandon. It was uncharacteristic of his usual sweet and shy demeanor, but he didn’t care—he needed Brandon to know exactly where you stood.

When you pulled back, slightly breathless, you noticed the look of shock and irritation on Brandon’s face. Nicholas just gave him a calm, steady look before taking your hand and leading you out of the classroom with a “come on baby, excuse me and my girlfriend Brandon.”

Back in his room at the frat house, Nicholas let out a relieved sigh, his hand resting on the small of your back. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “I- I didn’t mean to get like that, but seeing him with you—it just, it just made me so fucking jealous.”

You smiled, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “You don’t have to apologize, Nick. I only have eyes for you. Besides,” you teased, “I kind of liked seeing that side of you.”

He blushed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss you, it was slow, his touch gentle but filled with the unmistakable spark of all that had been building up over the past few days.

His touch was electric, his hands roaming all over your body. The moved to your breasts, groping you as you moaned into his mouth.

“These,” he breathed, pulling away just a bit as he grabbed your breasts again, “they’re mine.”

You had never seen him so possessive and jealous over you and boy, did it turn you on. He pushed you flat on his bed, his hand around your neck and stripped you of your clothes, roughly.

“N-Nick, are you sure? Everyone’s here—.” He cut you off by pressing a kiss to your lips. He stripped himself of his clothing, his muscles flexing and you bit your lip in anticipation.

Immediately, he leaned down, attaching his lips to your pussy, savoring your taste as you squirmed underneath him and tried to contain your moans. “Fuck, don’t hold back those moans baby, let it out,” he murmured, in between his movements.

You tried to hold on, but the minute he slipped his fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spongy spot inside you, you were unable to hold back. Your moans filled the room as Nicholas lapped at your juices, his palm pressing against your abdomen. The pressure rested on your lower belly and he continued, his fingers speeding up along with his tongue on your clit.

“Cum for me angel, I want you to cum on my tongue and I want to hear you scream.”

Your back arched off the bed and you squirmed under him as your juices spurted from you and onto his tongue.

“That’s my good girl, only I can make you squirt like that. Brandon wishes,” he scoffed.

A soft whimper left your lips as he stood up, pumping his hard and thick cock. He was hard the moment he tasted you.

Before he began fucking you, he lifted you up by your neck, making you look out the window.

“There’s the asshole,” he chuckled, making you look at Brandon walking towards the house, “I’m gonna make sure he hears me fucking you, gonna make sure he hears you fucking scream my name.”

You couldn’t believe the words leaving your sweet Nicholas’ lips. It was like the jealousy overtook him, awakening something feral inside him. It left you absolutely throbbing.

“P-please fuck me,” you whispered so quietly, he almost missed it.

“What’d you say angel? A little louder.”

“Please fuck me, Nick, I need you so bad, I need you to fuck me,” you begged.

“How obedient,” he chuckled, “anything for my sweet girlfriend.”

He pressed you onto the bed by your neck again, his hand remaining around it as he slipped inside you fully, giving you no time to adjust. You gasped at the intrusion, grabbing on to his hand and he immediately halted.

“Are you okay angel? Do you want me to stop? I-it’s okay if you want me to stop,” he said, a panicked look overtaking him as he cupped your cheeks looking into his eyes.

“No, I don’t want you to stop, please don’t stop,” you pleaded, grabbing his hand and putting it back around your throat.

His demeanor shifted again, and he began moving inside you. His hips thrusted fast, pounding inside you with his hand wrapped around your throat. You could barely contain your whiny mewls as each thrust made him press against your clit.

“You fucking like that? You like when I’m fucking you with everyone here? Tell me,” he demanded.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” you screamed, your moans surely to be heard across the frat house.

“That’s it princess, that’s exactly how I want you.” He began pounding into you harder, his moans growing louder as your walls clamped around him tightly. You wrapped your legs around him, grinding as he slammed into you.

“I can feel it princess, cum for me, cum for daddy.” He had a shocked expression on his face the minute the word left his lips and so did you. It was quickly replaced by pleasure as you immediately came on his cock. He was shocked he would ever refer to himself as ‘daddy’ the term never seeming to resonate in his sexual encounters with you until that very moment. A part of him was almost embarrassed, but the way your walls clenched around him the minute he said it and you squirting on his cock erased any lingering embarrassment.

“You’re so naughty, you really liked that didn’t you? You want me to be your daddy? Hm?” he asked, still pounding into you.

“Yes, be my daddy,” you cried.

He smirked and lifted you up, hooking his arms under your legs as he stood up and started slamming you on his hard cock.

“Scream for me baby, let that fucking asshole hear that he’ll never have you like this, let him hear that he’ll never have you the way I do,” he panted.

“Daddy!” you cried out, feeling Nicholas slam you harshly on his cock. Your body quivered and you knew before long you’d be coming again.

“You wanna cum angel? The only way you’re gonna cum is if you tell me who you belong to,” he breathed, his hands tightly gripped your ass as he thrusted up into you.

“I’m yours Nick, all yours, I belong to you, please let me cum,” you screamed.

“Good girl, good fucking girl, cum on my cock, cum on daddy’s cock.”

His movements becoming more intense and the air in the room was thick with passion. Lost in the intensity of the moment, you felt yourself reaching the tipping point, his name falling from your lips loudly as the sensation built. When you finally reached that breaking point, a rush of pleasure hit you, pulling a cry from you that filled the room and echoed through the hallway. You clung to him, and he held you close, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead as you caught your breath, completely wrapped up in him as he continued thrusting up into you.

From the muffled laughs and hollers you heard from outside, you realized the entire frat house had definitely heard. Nicholas just smiled, the slightest hint of pride in his eyes as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I want them to hear,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms. “You’re mine, and I don’t mind if everyone knows it.”

He lay on the bed, positioning you on top of him to straddle him. “Ride me baby, please,” he whimpered. His demeanor had shifted once again, his eyes growing needy and his lips pouting as his balls were swollen with cum fighting to spurt out.

You smirked, sinking down into his cock as you both gasped. “Fuck,” you moaned in unison, the sound of your pussy squelching loud in the room.

Your knees were on either side of him, bouncing up and down roughly, chasing your own orgasm again and making him chase his.

“I’m yours, yeah? Never forget that baby,” you whispered, snaking your hand around his neck.

He moaned in response, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as you moved your hips in a circular motion, riding him.

“You’re so big,” you screamed, his hips beginning to meet your thrusts as he practically hit your cervix continuously.

You heard muffled cheers outside the room, but you decided to focus on the both of you, making a mental note to cuss them out later for standing outside.

“F-fuck baby, I’m gonna cum so hard,” he cried, the sensitivity becoming too much for him.

“It’s okay baby, cum for me, I’m yours, cum inside your pussy.”

Moaning each other’s names, you held each other close, both your bodies shaking as you came simultaneously.

“You’re filling me up so much,” you moaned, feeling him spurt deep inside you. You stayed like that for a few minutes, his cock throbbing inside you as you both slowly came down from your high.

He lay you down, still holding you close as he kissed you all over your face.

“I’m sorry if that was too much angel, something just— just took me over, I don’t know what—”

You shut him up with a passionate kiss. “I enjoyed that so much sweetheart, that was so hot. Don’t apologize, you had every right to be jealous, but always remember there’s no other man for me but you. Brandon or anyone else could never have me the way you do. I’m yours and yours only.”

“All mine,” he smiled, sweetly.

Snapping you out of your moment, there was a pounding at the door. “Are you guys finished obliterating each other at 3 in the fucking afternoon? Goddamn Chavez, you’re a beast!” the voice yelled, followed by cheers and laughter. Then looking out the window, you saw the flustered figure of Brandon hurrying away.

[blackynsupremacy]

raw, next question.

[greengoblinswifey]

Steamy Nights—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you’re a sheltered college student who recently got your first job as a housekeeper at a fancy hotel. you stumble upon Nicholas Chavez while cleaning and he invites you to his hot tub in his room where one thing leads to another. based on this request.

warnings— age gap(reader is 19) praise kink, slight body worship, fingering, oral(f!receiving), daddy kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, creampie, aftercare.

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It had been a few weeks since you left your hometown and the ever-watchful eyes of your parents. You were finally in college, away from the suffocating grip of your sheltered upbringing. Now, you were free—free to explore, meet new people, and experience the world on your own terms. You'd always been the quiet, reserved type, but something inside you wanted to change that. You were ready to break out of your shell, to do what everyone else seemed to be doing, partying, flirting, and fucking.

You'd just landed your first job, working as a housekeeper at one of the fanciest hotels in the city. The kind of place where top CEOs, celebrities, and influencers stayed. The pay was decent, and it gave you the freedom you longed for, even though you were still adjusting to the hustle of your new life. You had a lot of cleaning to do, and the hours passed by quickly, but today was different. You were already thinking about the freedom you'd have once your shift was over, but you hadn't expected to find what you did next.

As you entered another room to clean, you realized there was no “Do Not Disturb” sign hanging from the door handle. You assumed it was just another room to tidy, so you entered without hesitation. The sight that greeted you, however, left you frozen.

The man standing before you was unreal. His body was sculpted like a Greek statue, muscles rippling under his damp skin, droplets of water glistening on his chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, and he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. For a moment, you couldn't find your voice.

“Sorry! I—I’m so sorry,” you stammered, your face flushed. “There wasn't a sign on the door and I just thought—”

You tried to turn away quickly, but your gaze was fixed on him, unable to tear yourself away from his presence. Your heart raced, and you couldn’t help but be entranced by his sharp features, the way the towel clung to his waist.

He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending a wave of warmth through your body. “It's fine, princess. Why so nervous?” he asked, his smirk playful yet intense.

You swallowed hard, trying to collect yourself. “I, um, I’m sorry, really.”

He took a step closer, and your breath hitched as he looked you over with what felt like a mixture of curiosity and awe. “Don't worry about it,” he said. “I'm Nicholas by the way, Nicholas Chavez.”

You blinked, a realization dawning on you. Nicholas Chavez. The famous actor. You’d seen him on billboards, in tv shows, and even heard girls talk about him endlessly. He was everywhere. And now, here he was, standing before you in nothing but a towel.

“I, uh, I know who you are,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heat up even more.

He smiled, eyes softening as he looked at you. “Good. You have a name?”

“Yeah, it's Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly, his voice low. He took a small step toward you, and you felt your pulse quicken. “So, how old are you?” he asked casually, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’m nineteen,” you replied, feeling a little shy under his attention.

He chuckled, his gaze never leaving you. “Nineteen, huh? You're—full of surprises.”

You blinked, unsure what he meant by that, but his next words made your heart skip a beat.

“How about this,” he said with a sly grin. “When your shift is over, come find me. My private hot tub’s always open. I’ll be waiting.”

For a moment, you hesitated, your mind racing. You’d always been the shy, sheltered girl, but something about the way he spoke, the way he looked at you, it made you feel different. More alive. Maybe this was your chance to break free from your past, to do something bold.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

His smile widened, and he gave you a wink before turning away, heading back to the bed. “The door’s always open for you,” he said over his shoulder as he flopped onto the bed, his gaze lingering on you. “Take your time.”

You felt a rush of excitement and nerves all at once. You finished your cleaning quickly, your thoughts buzzing with what was to come. You couldn’t stop thinking about him—about his body, his voice, the way he had looked at you. You felt like you were about to step into a new chapter of your life, one that you had been longing for.

The hours passed slowly, but finally, it was time. You’d made sure to pick out a sexy bathing suit, to wear underneath your clothes. As you approached his room, your heart raced with anticipation. You unlocked the door with your housekeeper’s key and pushed it open, your eyes immediately falling on him.

Nicholas was there, lounging on the bed in nothing but his trunks, his body looking just as perfect as before. He looked up and saw you standing there, and his eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You came,” he said, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You swallowed, nodding. “I— I came.”

As he sat up on the bed, your eyes couldn't help but trace the lines of his muscles, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. He was a vision of pure temptation, and for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel nervous. You felt almost empowered.

You stepped out of your clothes and into the soft light of his hotel suite, the anticipation buzzing in the air. You tugged at the straps of your bathing suit, a sudden surge of confidence rushing through you as you revealed the simple yet daring swimwear underneath. His eyes flickered, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you, his gaze darkening with something deeper.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his voice low and appreciative. “You’re gorgeous. Look at you.”

Your heart raced at his words, the heat in your cheeks making you feel more alive than you ever. You gave him a shy smile, but he could see through it, he knew exactly how his words were making you feel. He moved toward you, his tall frame casting a shadow over you as his hands gently took you in his arms.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady and warm. You squealed in surprise as he effortlessly swept you off your feet, carrying you toward the hot tub on the balcony. The steam rising from the water mingled with the cool night air, creating a perfect atmosphere that made your pulse race even faster.

He set you down gently, the water soothing against your skin as he stepped in after you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was something magnetic about him, something raw and unspoken. He was powerful, confident, and completely in control, yet there was a kindness in his gaze that made you feel like the only person in the world.

“So, tell me about yourself,” he asked, his voice smooth like velvet. His hand brushed against your back, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the warmth of his touch.

You took a breath, trying to steady yourself. “Well, I’m new to all of this. I grew up a little sheltered, honestly. But I’m in college now, and I wanted to break out of my shell—experience things for myself.”

Nicholas’ eyes softened with understanding, and he gave you a small nod. “I like that,” he said, his voice deepening. “You’ve got spirit.”

You could feel your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little nervously. “I guess I’m just tired of playing it safe.”

He stepped closer, his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in just enough to make you dizzy. “What if I told you that you don’t have to play it safe anymore?” His hand found your cheek, cupping it gently as he held your gaze. “What if I told you there’s so much more to explore, if you’re willing?”

Your heart was pounding in your chest as you nodded, not trusting your voice for a moment. His words had unlocked something inside you, something that felt like a new beginning.

“What do you have in mind?” you asked, barely above a whisper. You could feel the tension between you two, the chemistry so thick you could almost taste it.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “A lot of things. Are you down for anything?”

You could feel your pulse spike, the weight of his question making your stomach flip with excitement. “Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible, but the conviction behind it was clear. You were ready. Ready to let go and experience everything that this night had to offer.

Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. Slowly, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow at first. But then the kiss deepened, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded eagerly, your body moving against his as you got lost in the moment. His mouth was hungry, but gentle, as if savoring every second.

He broke away for a moment, looking down at you with something unreadable in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel the heat of his gaze burning into you. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his fingers gently grazing your skin.

Nicholas was so close now, his body radiating warmth as his hands gently traced the contours of your body, making you feel things you’d never experienced before. His eyes never left yours, and you could feel the raw hunger in his gaze.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. “Everything about you is perfect.” His fingers slowly moved up, grazing your side, sending a rush of heat straight to your pussy. He paused, then gently tugged at the strings of your bikini top, his eyes darkening as the fabric loosened. “God,” he breathed, looking at you in awe as the top fell away, exposing your tits to him.

You couldn’t stop the flutter in your chest, the way your pulse quickened at his words. You’d never felt more exposed, yet somehow, with him, it felt right. “So juicy,” he whispered, his voice husky as he lowered his head. His lips brushed the soft curve of your breast, and you gasped softly, unable to stop the soft moans that escaped your lips. “Your moans are hot,” he said.

Your body reacted to every touch, every brush of his hands. His touch felt like fire on your skin, leaving you trembling. The sensation of his hands on your body was overwhelming, and when his fingers gently cupped your breast, you couldn’t help but let out another moan, louder this time.

“God, your boobs are amazing,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin as his lips found yours again in a hungry kiss. You kissed him back with the same fervor, your body pressing closer to his, feeling the heat of his chest against you. His body was solid, strong, and you could feel every inch of him as he held you close.

His hand moved slowly down your body, his fingers grazing the edge of your bikini bottom. He didn’t rush, he was savoring every moment, as if he knew this was all new to you. His hand lingered there, rubbing over pussy through the fabric, making you squirm slightly. The water splashed around you, but it only heightened the lust between you both.

You moaned softly as he rubbed your clothed pussy faster, sending waves of pleasure through you. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, and the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands still on your body, his eyes full of desire. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said. There was no mistaking the way he felt—he wanted you, just as much as you wanted him.

With a gentle but insistent pull, he guided you closer, your bodies pressed together, the heat from the water mixing with the heat between you. His lips found yours once more, and as you kissed him back, you felt the world narrowing down to just the two of you, two bodies, two souls connecting in the steam and the quiet night.

What do you want, princess?” His voice was thick with desire, his lips lingering near your ear.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding as you thought about what you wanted. “I need to feel more. I need you to make me—make me cum.”

He chuckled softly, his breath warm on your neck. “Good girl,” he murmured, his hand sliding down to your bikini bottom. He was so careful, making sure you were comfortable with every movement. He kissed you again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent, as though he couldn’t wait to explore more of you.

The water splashed lightly around you as you both moved, the sound of your breaths mingling with the soft hum of the jets. His hand moved lower, brushing gently against you. He pulled your strings, easily ripping off your bikini then slipped a finger inside your wetness. You couldn’t help but gasp, the sensation of his fingers inside you unfamiliar yet thrilling.

“I’m a virgin by the way, I should’ve mentioned that earlier.”

“Shit, are you okay, I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked, pulling away slightly to look at you. You nodded, your fingers curling into his chest as you pulled him closer.

“Yes, I’m fine,” you whispered, your body reacting instinctively to his finger curling inside you. He slipped another finger inside you, your nails digging into his huge biceps and he took the moment to rub your clit. Your moans and the sound of water splashing was all he could hear.

“Nick— I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice thick with approval. “Cum for me, baby.”

And for the first time in your life, you did. You squirted on his fingers, feeling the tension in your body release as you surrendered to the moment, to him.

“Fucking hell, you look so pretty when you cum, y’know that?” he murmured, brushing your hair from your face.

“Well, it’s the first time I’ve ever done anything like this so, no,” you laughed.

You suddenly realized you were butt ass naked in front of a man for the first time as his eyes raked over your body, drinking you in like you were a sculpture in a museum. Your hands went instinctively to your boobs, covering yourself as he stared too long.

“Oh baby, don’t hide yourself, you’re fucking beautiful,” he murmured, taking your hands and placing it on his bulge. You felt how hard he was, and how big.

Nicholas pulled down his swim trunks, and stepped out of the water in all his glory. The warm water cascaded over his body and all the way down to his cock that was standing at attention. The steam was a paid actor like himself—setting the mood and reflecting the heat between you. He took your hand and helped you out of the hot tub, both of you dripping with arousal and remnants of water.

As you stood there, his towel draped loosely around his waist, you couldn’t help but notice how impossibly broad and strong his frame was. The water glistened off his chest, highlighting his defined muscles, and you felt an involuntary shiver of anticipation.

He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against your skin as he took up a towel and dried you off. You swallowed hard, heart hammering in your chest as his hands lingered just a little longer than necessary, making it hard for you to breathe.

“Come on baby,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he led you back toward the bedroom, your pulse quickening with every step. The moment you entered, he closed the door behind you, the weight of his presence filling the room.

Before you could even process what was happening, he pushed you gently onto the bed, your body sinking into the softness of the mattress. The action was quick, but there was nothing hurried about the way he looked at you—there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, like he couldn’t wait to see where this would go.

He stood at the edge of the bed for a moment, watching you as you caught your breath, your body still damp from the hot tub. “You know,” he said, his voice almost a whisper, “you’re absolutely beautiful.” His words sent a wave of heat through you, making you flush as his gaze dropped to your body, his eyes darkening with desire.

You could barely find your voice. “Th-thank you,” you stammered, trying to steady yourself, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to focus. You weren’t sure if you were nervous or excited, maybe both.

Nicholas moved closer, leaning down until his face was just inches from your glistening pussy. “Can I taste you?” he asked softly, his lips hovering over you.

You nodded, barely able to speak, but your lips parted as he moved in. His mouth moved against your pussy slow at first, tentative almost, as if testing the waters. But as he began licking faster, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You responded by pressing your pussy against him, the heat of his mouth making you dizzy with desire.

“You’re taste so fucking good,” he murmured against your clit, his voice a husky growl. You moaned softly in response, your body already reacting to his tongue all over you. It was the first time anyone had made you feel like this, so exposed and yet so wanted.

Your breath caught in your throat as you gathered the courage to speak. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whispered.

He smiled, that wicked grin curling at the edges of his lips at the nickname you appointed to him. “Wow, we’ll address that after you cum on my tongue, so go ahead,” he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.

As if your body was waiting for the go ahead, you arched from the bed, your hands immediately gripping his hair as you ground your pussy all over his mouth. You moaned as you squirted and he took the opportunity to slurp every drop of what your pussy had to over.

“Mm— that’s my good girl, you taste like fucking Heaven, sweetheart,” he praised in between his licks.

He moved up to you, his lips glistening with your arousal and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him and relishing in your savory taste. As you did, you could feel his hard cock pressing against you, his pre cum leaking and smearing on you. It felt so good, you wanted to suck his dick but you needed him to fuck you even more.

“So, daddy kink hmm? Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter,” Nicholas said, that gorgeous smirk on his face.

You buried your face in his neck, grinding your pussy against his shaft as you let out small whimpers in his ear. You needed that dick, bad.

“You’re so needy sweetheart, what is it, you want my cock?”

You let out a soft ‘mhmm’ still grinding against him as your body shuddered, if you weren’t careful, you knew you’d cum from just doing that.

“Words baby, I need words, do you want daddy to take your virginity?” he asked. When he saw you, he knew he wanted you for a fun night and more, he would’ve never thought a beautiful woman like you was still a virgin and would be up for a night with him. Let’s be real, if a guy like him asked you to come to his room after hours, he was looking to fuck and you, a virgin, knowingly came to his room. Though, he needed to know you were on board.

“Yes, please, I want you to take my virginity, please fuck me,” you whimpered.

He reached to pull out the nightstand drawer and you knew immediately what he was reaching for.

“N-no condom,” you muttered, grabbing his hand, “I’d like to feel all of you for my first time, i-if that’s okay.”

“‘Course baby, anything for you,” he smiled.

He moved back on top of you, stroking his length and spreading the pre cum all over. Looking at how big he was, you wondered how he would fit.

“You sure you want to do this sweetheart? You can still back out if you want to, the decision is all yours,” he said, concern etched on his face.

“I’m sure Nicholas,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down.

His leaking tip rubbed against your folds, the sound of your wetness filling the hotel room.

“I’m gonna go slow baby but it’s still going to be a bit uncomfortable at first, if it’s gets too painful, all you have to say is stop, yeah?”

You nodded your head and smiled, appreciative of his words, you wouldn’t want to be losing your virginity in any other scenario with anyone else but him.

Slowly, he began easing his cock into you, muttering praises and placing kisses all over your face. Your face contorted from the pain and pleasure and you tried your best to relax so he could move further.

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, the worst part’s gonna be over soon,” he uttered, before placing a kiss on your lips.

He slowly pushed into you more, peppering kisses and cooing at you. You’d never felt to full, your fingers when you touched yourself didn’t compare to how big he was inside you. Your jaw fell agape as the slight pain finally subsided and you were overcome with pleasure.

“Daddy,” you moaned as he began to move at a steady pace, his cocky repeatedly brushing against your sweet spot.

“There she is, there’s daddy’s girl,” he cooed, placing another kiss on your lips.

His words made your pussy clench and a flutter grew in your heart, this man was doing things to you no man had ever done.

“Faster,” you urged, grinding against him.

He granted your wish, pounding into you faster and making your body jolt upwards. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping filled the room and soon, you felt your approaching orgasm.

“So fucking tight, just clenching around me like that, I know you wanna cum, cum on daddy’s cock baby.”

Your nails dug into his back leaving a trail of fire and he pounded into you just the way you liked it.

“Oh fuck— daddy,” you cried, grabbing him and pulling him flush against you. You shuddered as your orgasm ripped through you, your juices soaking the bed as he pulled out.

As he looked down, there was a bit of blood between your legs and on his cock. He quickly grabbed a towel and cleaned you up then himself, placing a kiss on your thigh.

You glimpsed the blood stained towel and buried your face in your hands.

“I— I’m so sorry, I didn’t know—”

He cut you off with a passionate kiss, cupping your cheeks.

“You don’t need to apologize, it’s natural and normal sweetheart.”

You gave him a small smile and he flipped you on top of him swiftly, making you squeal.

“I know it’s your first time but I need you to ride me baby, need to see those fucking tits bounce and have you on top of me.”

“Anything for you,” you smirked, though nervous.

You lined his awaiting cock with your dripping pussy, rubbing it against you and making it drip down his shaft.

“Fucking hell, you’re amazing,” he moaned, bucking his hips.

Slowly, you sank down onto him, both moaning in unison as your warmth and wetness engulfed each other. It was like fireworks exploded, this was everything you had dreamed of. It was a burning stretch but the pain soon turned into pleasure.

You bounced on his cock and he moved his hips to meet your thrusts.

“Oh God— daddy,” you moaned, feeling him hit a whole new spot inside you, you thought was impossible.

“Yeah? You like that? You like riding daddy’s cock? Fucking say it,” he panted.

“I— I love riding daddy’s cock, fuck me harder,” you moaned.

“Good fucking girl.”

He thrusted up into you, grabbing your boobs and playing with your nipples as he did. Your moans were like music to his ears and soon, he felt the familiar feeling of your pussy fluttering and clenching around him like you didn’t want to let him go.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight baby, cum for daddy, soak daddy’s cock.”

Falling on top of him, your body convulsed and your orgasm overtook you, soaking his length and the sheets below you once more. You knew the housekeepers would complain, they always did when the sheets were covered in bodily fluid, hell, you did too, oh the irony.

“Stay just like that baby, daddy’s gonna pump you full of cum,” he murmured.

Nicholas pinned your hands behind your back, the action unusual but making your head swoon.

“Oh, you like that don’t you?” he asked, fucking up into you hard.

“I love it daddy, faster,” you begged.

“As you wish.” His cock began slamming into you faster and soon, you felt the unmistakable feeling of something warm, filling you to the brim.

“That feels so good,” you moaned, grinding against him.

“I know baby, take daddy’s cum, take it in that tight fucking pussy.”

He slowly thrusted into you before he pulled out, the feeling leaving you empty yet fulfilled.

You laid there, tangled in each other, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s chests.

“Did you enjoy yourself beautiful?,” he asked, as you leaned up to look at him.

“More than I could ever imagine.”

He smiled and gave you a kiss on the lips before making his way to the bathroom and coming back with a warm cloth. He cleaned you up, littering kisses as he did.

“You’re so beautiful, I’m so lucky,” he muttered. His words made your heart flutter, would this be a regular occurrence?

“I think I’m lucky too,” you laughed, “a famous actor just took my virginity.”

“And I’d like to take it all over again in the morning, will you stay the night?” he inquired, tossing the cloth on the couch.

“I don’t think I can, I already broke a rule sleeping with a guest but literally sleeping over in a guest’s room? I’d get fired and it’s my first job I—“

He cut you off with a finger over your lips. “Shh, forget who I am? I’ll pull some strings, and even if you do get fired, I’ll easily take care of you.”

You buried your face in his firm chest and he fell onto the bed beside you. The romantic night went on with you tangled in each other’s arms and Nicholas littering kisses all over your face. Who knew being a housekeeper would score you such a big tip.

[greengoblinswifey]

heyyy can we get some fem dom nicholas chavez fics? oml i’ve been OBSESSED with your writing your amazinggg!!

Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— at a red carpet event, you and Nicholas share an intimate moment as you're interviewed about your relationship dynamic, with you taking control in a sensual and dominant way, while Nicholas surrenders to your command. after the event, you show him who’s really in control.

warnings— sub!nicholas, strip tease, praise kink, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— thank you and enjoy though this was rushed <3 i see you guys’ requests, working on them each, it’ll probably take me a bit as finals week is approaching.

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The evening was extravagant, the flashing lights of cameras following your every move as you and Nicholas made your grand entrance. The air around you seemed to hum with anticipation—l, your black and white two-piece outfit, paired with a delicate black bow in your hair, had garnered its fair share of admiring glances. Nicholas, standing confidently beside you in his perfectly tailored black and white suit, looked every bit the heartthrob the world adored. His arm was wrapped firmly around your waist, his posture poised as he smiled at the flashing cameras.

You could practically feel the envy in the crowd, the whispering excitement as they gawked at the perfect couple that was you two.

It was the interview part that caught you both off guard. The interviewer, a well-dressed woman with an effortless charm, approached you with a grin.

“So, Nicholas,” she began, her eyes twinkling mischievously, “We all know that the internet is absolutely thirsty over you. One question that keeps coming up—are you the dominant type?” She paused and glanced at you with a playful look.

You couldn’t help but laugh, could she not have asked about your individual acting careers? Everyone in the room had been curious about your relationship, especially given the dynamic between you and Nicholas. You both knew the truth—he was far from dominant. But the playful question hung in the air as you looked up at Nicholas, meeting his eyes with that sly smile you reserved for moments like this.

You raised an eyebrow. “We both know the answer to that,” you said with a teasing tone, a glimmer of mischief in your voice. “He’s anything but dominant.”

Nicholas chuckled, brushing his hand through his fluffy hair as he glanced at you with a soft, almost apologetic smile. “Oh, come on,” he said, laughing lightly, “I think I could be the dominant one.”

You couldn’t help but smile even wider. There it was—the playful bravado. You knew he loved to tease, but you also knew the truth. He was yours, in every way that mattered. The cameras clicked around you both, their flashing lights capturing the fleeting moment.

The interviewer pressed further, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, Nicholas, do you let Y/N take charge, or is there more to it?”

You caught the subtle shift in his expression, a momentary flicker of uncertainty. You knew he was always more comfortable when the roles were clearly defined. He loved when you took control, and he relished the moments where you had him exactly where you wanted him. Still, he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“Of course, I let her take charge sometimes,” he said with a wink, his voice low and confident. “But let’s just say I know how to hold my own.”

Your eyes never left his as you felt a familiar, heated amusement rise within you. You didn’t say anything immediately, instead giving him a knowing, sly smile that only he could interpret. The interview wrapped up soon after, but you could feel the sexual tension between you growing.

Later, as you both slipped into the car to head back to the hotel, Nicholas glanced at you from the corner of his eye, clearly still processing the teasing exchange.

“So,” you teased, turning your body slightly toward him as you sat beside him, “You think you’re the dominant one now, huh?”

He chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I was just messing with them, you know I’m not really dominant.” His voice trailed off.

Once you arrived at the hotel, you opened the door to your suite—and the atmosphere inside caught you both off guard. The room was bathed in deep red lighting, and a large stripper pole gleamed near the bed. There was a certain sultry vibe in the air that only intensified the electricity between you two.

Nicholas stood frozen at the door, his mouth slightly agape as he looked around the room. His voice barely above a whisper, he asked, “Did you plan all this?”

You took a step forward, a slow, deliberate movement that drew his gaze toward you. A mischievous smile curled at your lips. “What do you think?” you purred. “You might’ve said you’re dominant, but let's see if you can prove it.”

Before he could respond, you walked toward him, your heels clicking against the floor as you reached for his tie. With a firm tug, you pulled him closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “You’re not in control here tonight.”

You pushed him onto the bed with a gentle but firm push, straddling his lap as you let your hands roam to the music playing softly in the background. The sultry beat of Rihanna’s song, Skin, filled the room, setting the tone.

Nicholas’ breath hitched as you began your slow strip tease, starting with a deliberate sway of your hips. He watched, utterly transfixed, his eyes darkening as you spun on the pole with ease, twisting and turning, performing tricks that had him loosening his tie. You could see the tension building in his body, his legs shifting as he fought to maintain control, but his growing arousal was unmistakable.

You caught the sight of his pants tightening as he got hard, a clear sign that the heat between you was almost unbearable. He groaned, his voice rough, “Is it getting hotter in here, or is it just me?” His fingers were trembling as he tugged at his shirt, clearly trying to ease the pressure.

You stopped for a moment, letting your body hover just above his, your fingers trailing lightly over his chest as you leaned in to whisper, “Tell me, who’s the dominant one now?”

He looked up at you with wide eyes, his breath coming in quick gasps. “You,” he muttered, his voice husky, “All you, baby.”

A thrill ran through you at the words, knowing that, no matter what he said in front of the cameras, tonight, he was yours. You kissed him hard, your body pressing fully against his as you let the power shift completely into your hands.

The dim, red lighting in the room created a sultry ambiance, and Nicholas’ breath was shallow as you slowly pulled him closer to the edge of the bed. He was already so lost in you, his eyes dark and desperate, watching your every move with a mixture of awe and hunger.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice rough as he reached for you, his fingers desperate to pull you closer.

You smiled at him, hands moving to gently guide his hands away, a quiet but firm gesture that told him exactly who was in control tonight. “I know,” you whispered, “But tonight, I’m the one in charge.”

He groaned softly at the command in your voice, his eyes filled with a mixture of admiration and desire. You slowly helped him out of his remaining clothes, taking your time with every movement, savoring the way his breath hitched at each touch. When he was finally naked, your hands hovered over his cock, soft, slow movements that made his skin burn with need.

His hands were on you again, fingers trailing up your thighs, but you stopped him with a soft chuckle. “Not yet,” you teased, your hands moving to his hair, tangling in the strands as you pulled his face toward yours for a deep, hungry kiss.

As your lips met, you could feel him giving in completely, his mouth opening to you as he groaned softly. The kiss was slow, a burn that heated your body with every passing second. You deepened it, your hands still tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you let him feel just how much you wanted him.

“You love when I take control, don’t you?” you murmured against his lips, the words a low tease. “I can see it in your eyes. You love when I tell you what to do.”

Nicholas moaned softly, his head tipping back slightly as his hands roamed over you. “Yes,” he breathed. “I love it. I love when you take me however you want.”

His words made something surge through you leaving your pussy wet. You moved away from him slightly, watching as his eyes followed you, filled with anticipation. You stood before him, feeling powerful, feeling every inch of control settle over you.

“On your knees,” you commanded softly, voice low and commanding.

Without hesitation, Nicholas obeyed, moving to kneel before you. His gaze was filled with admiration, the way he looked at you making your pulse race. He gazed up at you, his lips parted as he waited for your next move.

Slowly, you guided his head to your wet pussy, fingers lightly grazing his chin, guiding him with gentle pressure. “Show me how much you want to please me,” you whispered.

He didn’t hesitate. His hands slid up your thighs, fingertips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner legs, sending a shiver up your spine. His mouth hovered close, his breath warm against your skin.

As he kissed his way up your inner thighs, you let out a soft sigh, your hands still tangled in his hair. “That’s it,” you praised, feeling a surge of power as you guided him. “Just like that. Take your time.”

Nicholas’ lips moved with such care, such reverence, making you feel every moment as he took his time to explore. His lips were soft but insistent as he kissed higher, closer to your pussy, teasing you just enough to drive you wild. You felt him smile against your skin, the gentle pressure of his mouth making you gasp, his hands gripping your hips as he worked his way to where you needed him most.

“Good boy,” you whispered. The praise was just enough to make him groan in response, his lips and hands eager to please. He followed your every direction, his tongue worshipful as he explored every inch of you, making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

As he sucked on your clit, the heat in the room seemed to grow, the intensity of your his movements leaving you breathless. You could feel the desire building within you, the power of knowing how much he craved your control.

“You’re so good at this, baby.”

His response was a needy, almost desperate kiss to your pussy, his mouth moving against you, lips hot and insistent. You felt the rush, the way he shifted beneath you, eager to please, and as your hands tangled in his hair and you moved your pussy on his face, you reached your peak with your juices squirting all over him.

Once you’d rode out your high, the feeling having your eyes roll back, you pulled him up by his hair. His breath caught in his chest, his body trembling with a mix of want and admiration as he gazed at you, eyes clouded with desire.

You straddled him, your pussy hovering above his hard, leaking cock. His hands were immediately on your waist, fingers digging in your brown skin slightly as he looked up at you, the need in his eyes undeniable.

You leaned down, your lips brushing over his ear as you whispered, “You love when I just have you at my mercy, don’t you baby?”

Nicholas moaned softly, his voice hushed, shaky with desire. “Yes, I love it. I need you to guide me. I love knowing that you're in control.”

You smiled at his words, the power rush of knowing how deeply he craved this moment, this surrender, filling you. “Good boy,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

With that, you sat on his dick and moved slowly at first, teasing him, feeling the heat between you build. His hands moved to your chest, gently cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure through you. You gasped, your hips grinding down harder, the connection between you deepening with each movement.

“Tell me again,” you whispered, breathless as you moved against him, “Who’s in control here?”

His answer came in a low groan, his hands gripping you tighter, pulling you closer. “You,” he breathed, his voice rough with want. “You’re in control, baby. Always.”

You felt him buck beneath you, his hips rising to slam into you, but you controlled the rhythm, keeping him on edge, teasing him as you moved on his cock with slow, deliberate force. His breath was ragged now, hands trying to pull you closer, but you kept the power in your hands.

“Please,” he begged softly, eyes filled with a mix of need and reverence. “Don’t fucking stop.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the power of the moment settling over you. “You want to beg for me, Nick?” you teased, your fingers lightly grazing his lips as you leaned in closer. “I love hearing you beg.”

He nodded quickly, his voice desperate. “Please baby, I want to feel you cum on my cock. I need you. I love it when you’re in control.”

The way he said it, so raw and so honest—sent a thrill of satisfaction through you. You felt his need radiating from him with the way he was throbbing inside you, but you held back, taking your time, savoring every moment as you slid up and down. You leaned down, kissing him softly, the gentle, teasing nature of the kiss only heightening the tension between you.

You weren’t ready to let go yet. Not until you’d taken him to the edge and back again.

His touch made you weak, his hands on your hips, pulling you closer, guiding you to move on his cock as he kissed his way down your neck, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin. You moaned softly, a rush of heat flooding you. His name escaped your lips, soft and needy, as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

“You're so good to me,” you whispered against his ear, your voice seductive. “So perfect for me.”

He responded with a low, throaty moan, his hands gripping your hips tighter, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. “And you're so beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his lips brushing against your skin. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You kissed him deeply, your lips soft but demanding, tasting him as you took your time. His hands slid up your back, pressing you flush against him as he kissed you back with equal intensity.

“Do you want to cum for me?” you asked, your lips hovering near his ear, your voice low and teasing. “Tell me you want it.”

He moaned in response, his hands trembling as they traced down your sides. “Please,” he begged, his voice strained with need. “Let me cum. I can’t hold back any longer.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “Beg me,” you said, your voice steady. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

Nicholas’ eyes locked with yours, full of longing. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he kissed you again, this time with more urgency. “Please,” he said again, more desperately this time, “I need to feel you. I want to let go inside you. Please let me.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, your hands sliding down to his chest as you leaned closer, kissing his lips softly. “You’ve been so good, Nick,” you murmured, your voice thick with praise. “You deserve it. You’ve been perfect for me.”

He let out a low groan at your words, the sound of it like music to your ears. His hands moved to your back again, pulling you even closer. “I’m yours,” he breathed against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. “All yours. Always.”

“That’s right,” you said, your voice steady, filled with power. "You’re all mine, baby. So perfect for me."

With that, you squirted on his cock, soaking the hotel sheets, feeling him respond to you immediately, his grip on you tightening as he spurted his load inside you. As he did, he whispered words that sent a rush of heat through your body. “You’re even more perfect than anything else in this world,” he breathed, his voice rough with satisfaction.

The two of you collapsed onto the bed, bodies tangled together, your breaths mingling in the air around you. He kissed you all over, gentle and tender, his lips trailing along your jaw, down to your neck, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

When his lips finally met yours again, soft and lingering, he pulled away slightly, his breath still ragged. “Round two?” he asked, his voice full of playful desire. “The shower?”

You smiled, running your hands through his hair, your body still humming with the aftermath of the moment. “You want me again that quickly?” you teased.

His eyes sparkled with mischief and hunger. “Always. I can’t get enough of you.”

You kissed him again, feeling the heat between you reignite. “Let’s see if you can keep up,” you said, your tone playful yet commanding.

He smiled, his hands already pulling you up, ready to take you to the shower where you could take him however you wanted again.

[greengoblinswifey]

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒆’𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 ・₊✧🩶 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Model!Reader

Synopsis— Nicholas Chavez is on the brink of becoming Hollywood’s next big thing, while you, a renowned model clawing your way back from a career scandal, find yourself reluctantly entangled in a PR relationship with him after he’s moved next door. As the lines between fake and real blur, buried insecurities, harsh words, and a relentless industry threaten to tear you apart, can you find solace in each other, or will the cost of fame destroy what could have been real?

Warnings— Mentions of drugs, Substance Use, Alcoholism, Explicit Smut, Dirty Talk, Angst, Fluff, Cursing, Toxic Relationship Dynamic, Heartbreak, Betrayal.

A/N— Each part will have individual warnings and comment to be in the tag list for this series, enjoy <3

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

[greengoblinswifey]

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒆’𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 ・₊✧🩶 Part III

Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Model!Reader

Warnings— Mentions of arousal, fluff.

Series Masterlist

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft patterns on the bed. You woke up to the quiet sounds of the ocean outside, your body still tangled in the warmth of the sheets. Nicholas was already awake, propped up against the headboard, scrolling through his phone beside you. He looked effortlessly fine—his hair messily perfect, his jawline catching the light, those pretty eyes.

“Morning,” he said, glancing at you with a small smile. His voice was rough, low, and intimate in the quiet room.

“Morning,” you replied, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

There was a beat of silence, the air thick with the unspoken acknowledgment of what had transpired the night before. You sat up, the covers slipping off your shoulders as you reached for your phone, you were one of those people. But the memory of his touch, how close he was to you last night, was still vivid in your mind.

“So, last night..,” you said eventually, your voice softer than usual. “I haven’t had something like that in a long time.”

Nicholas looked at you for a moment before answering. “Wow, but it was nice.”

You caught yourself studying him—his relaxed posture, the way his fingers scrolled through his phone, and the faint hint of a smile on his lips. There was a question you wanted to ask, something burning at the back of your mind. Was he hard this morning? The thought made your cheeks heat up. You didn’t bother asking. You already knew the answer. But the real question was—why? Was it because of you, or was it just typical morning wood?

Instead of voicing your thoughts, you both dove into headlines, trying to avoid the lingering air between you. As you scrolled through the news, a headline caught your eye, and you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you.

“‘Mystery man spotted! Could this be the one to tame the wild child?’” you read aloud, barely containing your laughter.

Nicholas leaned over to glance at your phone, his eyebrow quirking. “Tame? Are they serious?”

“I know, right?” you said, still laughing. “I’m in my early 20s, at the top of my career. I don’t need some man tying me down.” You paused, glancing at him. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he replied with a smirk, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement.

The laughter eased the tension, and the two of you fell into the kind of comfortable rhythm that had been building since your first meeting. You spent the rest of the morning lounging around, the conversation flowing easily. At one point, Nicholas opened up about his past, a year long relationship that had ended just before his career had taken off.

“Were you in love?” you asked, curiosity lacing your tone.

He shook his head thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. It just didn’t work. We were in different spaces in life, completely different people.”

You nodded, processing his words before admitting, “I’ve never been in love, I think.”

The confession hung in the air, intimate and raw. His gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, you wondered what he was thinking. Was he imagining what it would be like if your first taste of love was with him?

You shifted the conversation, steering it toward lighter topics. hobbies, interests, little quirks that made you both laugh. The more you learned about him, the more you realized how different you were, yet there was an odd sense of compatibility that kept pulling you back in.

Later in the afternoon, you both sat down to discuss your next PR move.

“I’ve got a GQ red carpet event in a few days,” Nicholas mentioned. “It’s the perfect opportunity to make this whole thing slightly more public.”

You tilted your head, intrigued. “What’s the plan? Play it cool?”

“Exactly,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’ll be my date, but we won’t even follow each other on social media. Let the speculation do the work.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Look at us, plotting and scheming.”

Nicholas chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “I can’t believe this is the same person the media paints as a messy party girl.”

“And I can’t believe you’re supposed to be the detached, aloof guy,” you countered, grinning.

He smiled, his gaze softening. “You’re not so bad. Not bad at all.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

The afternoon had barely begun when Angela, you and Nicholas’ manager, threw a last-minute photoshoot into your schedule. This wasn’t new, she was known for her knack for delivering surprises, but you didn’t mind. Despite the controversies that had plagued your career recently, brands were still eager to work with you. It was a testament to your influence, even when the media tried to frame you as a wild child.

As you prepared to leave the beach house, your driver pulled up. Nicholas was still lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. When you casually mentioned the shoot, he perked up.

“Mind if I come?” he asked, looking genuinely curious.

You laughed, raising an eyebrow. “To a photoshoot? Why?”

“I want to see you in your element,” he said, his tone surprisingly eager.

It was an odd request, but something about it felt endearing. You shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

Arriving on set, the atmosphere was as chaotic as ever—stylists rushing around, makeup artists perfecting details, and the director shouting last-minute adjustments. As you were whisked away to wardrobe, Nicholas trailed behind, taking everything in with wide-eyed fascination.

When you emerged from the dressing room, clad in a couture gown that hugged your figure perfectly, Nicholas looked stunned. He didn’t say much, but his expression spoke volumes.

“You clean up nice,” he teased, smirking as you walked past him toward the set.

“Don’t I always?” you shot back playfully, throwing a wink over your shoulder.

As you posed, the producers buzzed around, setting up lights and angles. One of them, a sharp-eyed man with a clipboard, noticed Nicholas standing off to the side.

“Who’s he?” he asked, curiosity evident in his tone.

You seized the opportunity, a sly smile spreading across your face. “Well, that’s Nicholas Chavez. He’s my industry muse. Gaining traction fast. He starred in Ryan Murphy’s Netflix show about the Menendez brothers, I’m sure you’ve heard of it. Great actor, and honestly, he has the kind of face that would be perfect for campaigns. You should keep him in mind for any projects or shoots.”

Nicholas blinked, caught off guard by your sudden endorsement, but he quickly recovered, nodding along and smiling gratefully. “Thanks,” he murmured under his breath as he stood beside you.

You glanced at him, brushing it off casually. “It’s my job now isn’t it? That’s why we’re doing this PR thing in the first place.”

The shoot went on, and you moved through each pose effortlessly, embodying the grace and confidence that had made you a household name. Draped in high fashion and surrounded by a perfectly styled set of flowers and soft lighting, you were in your element. Nicholas watched from the sidelines, snapping candid videos and pictures on his phone.

“I can’t believe you just do this,” he said during a break, shaking his head. “It’s like watching a masterclass.”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

By the end of the day, you both had enough content to stir the media into another frenzy. Nicholas snapped a picture of the set, with you posing in the background, while you did the same. The plan was to release the images strategically once the photos were ready, perfect publicity for both of you.

Later that evening, Nicholas invited you into his mansion. The two of you lounged in his master bedroom, scrolling through social media and discussing the buzz that was already building.

“Think it’s time to post these?” Nicholas asked, holding up his phone with a mischievous grin. He was referring to the photos of the romantic set up from your beach house.

“Go for it,” you said. “I’ll follow your lead.”

He uploaded the photos first, his caption vague enough to keep people guessing. You followed a few minutes later, knowing the coordinated posts would send your followers into a frenzy.

“This is a fun game,” you admitted, laughing softly as you watched the likes and comments pour in.

Nicholas leaned back against the pillows, his gaze on you. “Look at us, playing the media like it’s chess.”

You grinned but said nothing, focusing instead on the undeniable ease that had settled between you two. As the night wore on, the conversation shifted to lighter topics, jokes, stories, playful banter.

But eventually, you excused yourself. As much as you enjoyed his company, a part of you held back. You couldn’t afford to enjoy it too much, not when the lines between professional and personal were already so blurred.

As you walked next door to your house, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something unpredictable. Would your alliance lead to something more, or was it foreshadowing the chaos to come? Only time would tell.

It should’ve been easy to slip back into your usual mindset, focus on your modeling career, keep your emotions in check, and stay professional. But as much as you tried, your thoughts kept wandering back to Nicholas, how he looked at you today, the way he made you laugh, and how he didn’t seem fazed by your world of chaos. He wasn’t intimidated by it the way other men that had been in your life were.

By the time you stepped into your home, the familiar silence greeted you, grounding you in reality. The space felt bigger than usual, emptier somehow, and you rolled your eyes at yourself. Get a grip, you thought. You weren’t the type to get hung up on anyone, let alone someone you barely knew.

You changed into more comfortable clothes, tying your curls back as you sank into the couch with your phone in hand. Notifications were exploding from the posts you and Nicholas had made earlier. Fans and media outlets alike were speculating, spinning wild theories about the "mystery man." Headlines like “Wild Child Model Tamed?” and “The Love Story We Didn’t See Coming” made you laugh out loud.

“Settle down?” you muttered to yourself. “They’re insane.”

But beneath the humor, a strange pang hit you. It was more like curiosity. What if they aren’t completely wrong? You shook the thought off. You were in your early twenties, at the peak of your career. You didn’t need a man to define or anchor you, even one as intriguing as Nicholas.

Your phone buzzed, pulling you from your thoughts. A text from him.

Hope you got inside safe though I watched you from my window. Thanks for bringing me to the shoot today, it was kind of amazing seeing you do your thing.

For a moment, you just stared at the screen, his words making you smile despite yourself. He didn’t have to text you. This wasn’t part of the PR script. You typed back quickly.

Don’t get used to it. My world’s a little too chaotic for you.

The response was immediate.

I don’t know. I think I can handle it ;)

You found yourself laughing, the warmth from earlier creeping back. But you couldn’t let this go beyond what it was, a strategic partnership, a temporary arrangement. Right?

You tossed your phone onto the couch and let your head fall back, staring at the ceiling. It should’ve been simple to keep things professional. Nicholas was just another coworker in a way, a means to an end for both of you. But there was something about him, his quiet confidence, the way he challenged you without overstepping, and how he didn’t take himself too seriously, that was starting to get under your skin.

It’s just because he’s new, you told yourself. Once the buzz dies down, so will this—whatever it is.

Still, a small part of you wondered if he felt the same pull. He wasn’t like most people you worked with, who saw you as a means to elevate their own image. Nicholas had seemed genuinely curious about you today, more interested in watching you work than using your name for clout.

Later that night, you scrolled through Instagram, where fans were dissecting every detail of your joint posts. Nicholas had posted first—just a picture of the set with a cryptic caption: “Quiet on set. She’s working.” You’d followed up an hour later with a similar post, careful not to include him in the shot.

The game was still on.

As you lay in bed, your thoughts drifted again. You didn’t want to admit it, but you enjoyed his company far more than you expected. Maybe too much. And that was dangerous. The last thing you needed was to blur the lines between professional and personal.

But then you remembered the way he looked at you today, like you were more than just a headline or a pretty face. Could you really keep this strictly professional? Or was it already too late?

With a frustrated sigh, you rolled over and closed your eyes, determined not to let this turn into something bigger. Tomorrow, it would be back to business. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Taglist: @blackynsupremacy @rafeysslut @lanadelreysvs

[greengoblinswifey]

𝑭𝒂𝒎𝒆’𝒔 𝑬𝒅𝒈𝒆 ・₊✧🩶 Part II

Pairing— Nicholas Chavez x Model!Reader

Summary— You’re thrusted into a PR relationship with your new neighbor, Nicholas Chavez, you’re hesitant at first not knowing how it will benefit you but you warm up to it and find out he’s not the cold and detached person the media says he is.

Warnings— Fake relationship, Fluff, Sexual Tension, Mentions of Substance Use, Smoking.

Series Masterlist

The following morning, you were up earlier than usual. The events of the past day still loomed over you, from the damaging headlines to your ex-best friend slandering your name. Thankfully, it was mostly small blogs and gossip sites spreading her story, and you were confident you’d rise above it all. The photos of you shopping downtown were taking off on social media, and for once, the narrative seemed to favor you. You just hoped Angela’s so-called plan would center on building you back up.

Determined to present your best self, you called in your stylists to give you the ultimate morning glow-up. You chose a sleek off duty model look, an oversized Chanel tweed jacket paired with high-waisted tailored shorts and classic black ballet flats. The cream and beige color palette contrasted beautifully against your dark skin, which practically shimmered under the lighting. You felt put together, and it was a good feeling—one you hadn’t experienced in weeks.

At exactly 10 a.m., Angela called to let you know she was at the gate. “By the way,” she said casually, “I’m bringing a guest.”

“A guest?” you asked, glancing at yourself in the mirror one last time. “Who?”

“You’ll see,” she replied, then hung up.

You stood in the foyer, waiting for the sound of the bell. When it came, you smoothed down your jacket and opened the door, only to freeze in surprise. Standing next to Angela was your neighbor, Nicholas Chavez, looking annoyingly polished in a leather jacket, dark jeans, and a crisp white tee that screamed effortless charm.

Angela was all business. “Morning,” she said, breezing past you into the house. Nicholas followed, offering you a small smile.

“Uh, morning,” you said, closing the door. “Why’s my neighbor your guest? Wasn’t the cake enough?”

Angela turned to you with an exasperated look. “This isn’t about the damn cake. And Nicholas, thank you for humoring us this morning,” she added, motioning for him to sit.

Nicholas smirked as he lowered himself onto your couch. “The cake was really good, by the way. Thanks again.”

You folded your arms, leaning against the armrest of the sofa. “Okay, so why is my neighbor in my house? What’s the plan here?”

Angela gave you a pointed look, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “The plan,” she began dramatically, “is a relationship.”

You blinked, then burst into laughter, the sound echoing off your high ceilings. Angela didn’t laugh. She just stood there, unimpressed, until you finally composed yourself.

“You know I don’t do relationships,” you said, raising a brow. “What are you talking about?”

“A PR relationship,” she clarified. “Very public. Very strategic.”

You tilted your head, glancing between her and Nicholas, who was casually leaning back on your couch, arms stretched out along the cushions. “I don’t get it. Why would either of us need that?”

Angela crossed her arms. “Because you are in damage control, and Nicholas here is the perfect solution.” She gestured to him. “He’s new, popular, fresh, clean-cut. Hollywood’s golden boy in the making. A rising star who just scored a breakout role and needs the right kind of visibility to stay in the conversation. You, on the other hand, are…” She trailed off and gestured vaguely at you.

You scowled. “A supermodel? A party girl?”

“A mess,” she corrected. “A rich, famous, gorgeous mess, sure, but still a mess. The public loves a redemption arc, and this will give them one. The troubled supermodel tamed by the sweet, boy-next-door actor. It’s a PR dream.”

Nicholas finally spoke, his voice calm and low. “I’m not exactly boy-next-door, Angela.”

“Close enough,” she shot back, waving him off.

You shook your head. “This sounds ridiculous. And I don’t see how being tied to me helps him. I mean, I’m in the middle of a PR crisis.”

Angela didn’t flinch. “It helps him because you’re you. You’re a household name, a media darling, even with all the drama. Being seen with you puts Nicholas on magazine covers, gets him into rooms that will skyrocket his career. And for you, it softens your image. It shows stability, maturity, and lets people focus on something positive for once.”

Nicholas turned to you, his expression unreadable. “And for the record, I’m not opposed. If it helps both of us.”

You frowned, unsure how to respond. “And what? We just pretend to be in love?”

Angela nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Exactly. Dates, appearances together, a few staged paparazzi moments. Maybe even some cryptic Instagram posts.”

“That sounds exhausting,” you muttered.

Angela stepped closer. “It’s not forever. Just a few months. Long enough to shift the narrative. You’re already halfway there with those shopping photos from yesterday. Let’s seal the deal.”

You looked at Nicholas, who shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Could be fun,” he said lightly.

“You think this is fun?” you asked.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think it’s an opportunity. For both of us. And honestly,” He paused, his eyes locking with yours. “You don’t strike me as the type to back down from a challenge.”

You rolled your eyes but felt your resolve wavering. The way Angela had laid it out, it almost made sense. And Nicholas, well, he was easy on the eyes. You could admit he was fine. If nothing else, he might distract you from the chaos for a while.

You sighed, finally throwing your hands up. “Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Angela grinned. “Good. That’s all I need for now.”

Nicholas stood, adjusting his jacket. “Let me know what you decide. I’ll be next door.”

As you walked them to the door, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being dragged into something much bigger than you anticipated.

You screamed out in frustration, the weight of Angela’s plan sinking in. You didn’t have a choice. If you didn’t make a big move to salvage your image, your agency would drop you. Bookings would dry up, shows would pass you over, and the fashion world would leave you behind. You’d be finished. And you couldn’t let that happen. You’d worked too hard to get here.

The thought of smoking on the balcony crossed your mind, but you shook it off. Paparazzi were probably camped out in the bushes beyond your gates, waiting for any misstep to capture and sell. You’d come too far to give them an easy headline. Instead, you lit up inside, taking a long drag from your joint as the familiar calm washed over you. You were making changes, after all. No hard drugs anymore, just weed. Baby steps.

The high brought clarity. A PR relationship wasn’t just an idea—it was a necessity. As much as it stung to think about Nicholas Chavez leeching off your fame, you knew it would be mutually beneficial. But still, the thought of tying yourself, even temporarily, to someone like him made your stomach twist. Sure, he was very attractive but he wasn’t in your league. You were scared of how much you’d have to give to make this work.

But it was fake. That’s what you told yourself. It was all for PR. Nothing more. Nothing less. He wouldn’t ruin your image, and you wouldn’t ruin his. It was transactional. Professional. It would be fine. Right?

You stubbed out the joint and made your way to Nicholas’ house next door. You barely had to ring the doorbell before he opened it, an actual smile lighting up his face. It threw you off. You’d never seen him smile in person or even in interviews. His reputation for playing cold, detached roles, especially after his breakout as Lyle Menendez—preceded him. Maybe Angela was right. He needed this just as much as you did.

He led you into his sleek, modern living room. The place was clean, organized, and clearly decorated by someone with taste. He motioned for you to sit, and you took a spot on the plush sofa.

“I hope you’ll be seeing more of this place,” he started, his voice smooth but slightly nervous. “And have you thought about our manager’s plan?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wait, Angela’s your manager too?”

He nodded, and you rolled your eyes. Of course, she had orchestrated this from every angle.

You leaned back, crossing your legs. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it. I don’t have a choice, do I? It’s the best move for you.”

He looked a little taken aback, his ego clearly bruised. “For both of us, I think you’d benefit too,” he replied, his tone defensive.

You smirked, brushing him off. “Sure. But we both know you’re the one getting the most out of this. Let’s not kid ourselves.”

He let it go, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Fine. So, are we starting this now? What’s the first move?”

His eyes flickered to your lips briefly, and you caught it. Clearing his throat, he added, “I was thinking we could stage something big to kick things off. Flowers, candles, the whole deal. I’ll set up a space, maybe on your balcony or one of your other properties, and ask you to be my girlfriend. We’ll take pictures and post them to soft-launch the relationship a few days from now but first we’ll get paparazzi to snap a few candids of us but making sure to not get my face. Just enough to get people speculating.”

Your brow arched. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

He grinned, a hint of smugness in his expression. “Guess I’m cut out for this Hollywood life after all.”

“Or you just really want to be seen with me,” you shot back, and he laughed.

“Can you blame me? You’ve been my celebrity crush for years,” he admitted, his tone playful but honest.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Expected.”

By the time you left his house, the plan was in motion. You both snuck off to one of your properties near the beach, Nicholas’ team working quickly to decorate the space with candles, roses, and twinkling lights. You’d gone home to change into a white Chanel dress that flattered you perfectly and made your skin glow under the evening light.

Once the setup was complete, you snapped a picture, careful to keep Nicholas out of frame. The photo went into your drafts, ready to post in a few days. Before leaving, you called your paparazzi contacts, making sure they’d capture strategic shots of you on the decorated balcony with your “mystery man” in the background, his face obscured.

The photos hit the internet within hours. By the time you were back home, your phone was blowing up with texts and notifications. Every media outlet, TMZ, Page Six, even Vogue—was talking about the “romantic mystery” surrounding your evening.

You and Nicholas sat close together on your bed, scrolling through the headlines. Angela called, her voice practically buzzing through the phone.

“Congratulations, to the new couple! This was perfect. Everyone’s talking about it. I knew you could pull it off.”

“Not like I had a choice,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Angela laughed. “Well, keep it up. Keep the image clean. And, Nicholas, I trust you to handle this.”

“What about me?” you snapped. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not as much as I trust him,” Angela teased before hanging up.

You scoffed, tossing your phone onto the bed. “Great. Well, since we’re here, we might as well stay the night. But stay away from the windows. Last thing we need is more candid shots.”

Nicholas nodded in agreement. “Makes sense. Where should I sleep?”

“In here,” you replied nonchalantly. “We’re going to have to share hotel rooms eventually for appearances. Might as well practice now.”

He blinked, a little surprised, but didn’t argue.

You decided to shower first, stripping out of your dress and walking into the bathroom, fully aware of his eyes on you. You smirked to yourself, knowing he was watching your naked figure from behind. When you returned, towel-clad and refreshed, he took his turn. You couldn’t help but notice his muscular back and firm figure as he disappeared into the bathroom.

By the time he returned, you were both in bed, lying on opposite sides in a comfortable silence, the glow of the TV casting soft light across the room.

Nicholas broke the quiet, turning his head to you. “Alright, girlfriend. Since we skipped the talking and dating stage, tell me about yourself.”

You chuckled, rolling onto your side to face him. “What do you want to know?”

“Everything, you can start off with your modeling career if you’d like,” he said simply. His expression was soft, genuine. For the first time, he didn’t look like the detached actor or the PR project Angela had roped you into.

And, against your better judgment, you started talking, hesitantly at first. “I started because—I wanted to feel like I was someone, like I mattered, I want to be appreciated for what I had to offer. But it wasn’t easy,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. “It took years of hard work, long nights, endless rejection, and now it feels like it’s all slipping through my fingers.” You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. “The scandals, the rumors, it’s like everything I built is crumbling, and the worst part is they don’t even know the real me. I’m not that person they paint me as—some careless, drug-addicted mess.”

Nicholas’ expression didn’t waver. He didn’t interrupt or glance away. Instead, he shifted slightly closer, his elbow resting on the mattress as he propped his head on his hand. “And now,” you continued, your voice breaking slightly, “I just feel like a failure. Like I’ve disappointed everyone who ever believed in me.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so uncharacteristic, that it caught you off guard. You froze, your breath hitching as you stared at him, unsure of how to respond. “It’s going to be okay,” he said softly, his deep voice laced with sincerity. “You’re not what they say you are. I see you for who you really are—a hard worker, talented, smart, beautiful, and so much more. We’ll figure this out. We’ll fix your reputation together.”

Your throat tightened at his words. You didn’t know how to react—this wasn’t the detached, unfeeling Nicholas the world talked about. He was warm, reassuring, and entirely present. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not like what people say you are either.” You managed a small smile. “Detached with dead eyes? Doesn’t seem to fit right now.”

He chuckled, a low, genuine sound that made your chest feel lighter. “Guess they don’t know me that well either, huh?”

You laughed softly, the tension between you easing. He hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat. “So, uh, do you maybe want to cuddle?” he asked nervously, his usual confidence replaced with uncertainty.

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “Why do you wanna do that, Chavez? Ain’t no media or paparazzi in here to see what’s going on.”

He paused, his mouth twitching into an embarrassed smile. “Just practicing,” he said with a shrug.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, rolling your eyes as you shifted closer to him, resting your head against his chest. His strong arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders, and you let yourself relax, his steady heartbeat soothing you. “You’re something else,” you murmured before sleep claimed you both.

Hours later, you woke to the soft rise and fall of his chest against yours. The room was still dark, the quiet hum of waves beyond the windows faint in the background. His arms were wrapped firmly around you, his body pressing against yours in a way that felt impossibly warm and secure. You blinked groggily, realizing your legs were tangled with his, your face nestled against his chest. And then, you felt it—a firm pressure against your hip.

Your cheeks heated as you carefully shifted, trying to move without waking him. You turned away slightly, hoping to create some distance, but before you could, his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him once more. He shifted in his sleep, his breath brushing against the back of your neck as he spooned you. You froze, hyper-aware of every inch of contact, his solid frame molding against you and the unmistakable hardness pressing against you.

“It’s just—early morning wood,” you muttered quietly to yourself, trying to convince your racing thoughts to settle. “That’s all it is.” You closed your eyes, willing yourself to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. After a few moments of stillness, his steady breathing calmed you again, and you drifted off, lulled by the warmth and weight of him enveloping you.

Maybe this PR relationship thing wouldn’t be so bad, he was tolerable—just a bit, for now.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

Taglist: @blackynsupremacy @rafeysslut

[blackynsupremacy]

HIS BIGGEST FAN

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

summary: for as long as you’ve known her, your grandmother has always enjoyed watching daytime soap operas, such as general hospital. she’s even more delighted when gets to have a “date” with you and your boyfriend, who happens to portray her favorite character, spencer cassadine.

contains: established relationship, romance, cavity inducing fluff, cuddling, kissing, reassurance, nicholas being the best boyfriend ever, kind words, grandma loves her some nicholas.

taglist: @supaprettyg @xoxoglittergossip @sabrinasopposite @hnch33rios @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @elitesanjisimp @ellethespaceunicorn @stereotypicalbarbie @rosiestalez @camiesully @tryingtograspctrl @gxuxhdjdu

“and voila! you look so amazing, baby.”

you chime after perfectly adjusting the black bow tie that rested on the collar of his pristine white button up shirt. you both get a glimpse of his final look in the full sized mirror of the luxury suite you guys secured for your visit in your hometown. your boyfriend of two years, nicholas chavez, was indeed what your uncles would call it “clean” as he donned a noir tuxedo and bow tie. you couldn’t help, but to inwardly swoon at the sight of the obvious outline of his toned build within the suit. the sweet, musky scent of his cologne put your senses in a hypnotic daze and his plush, chocolate tresses were shiny and brushed smoothly to the side with a couple of loose curls cascading along his forehead. nicholas looked good.

one would assume that this was a normal get dolled up date between you and nicholas, but this outing was more special. you were back in your hometown because nicholas has met most of your immediate family such as your parents, but not any of your grandparents yet, specifically your maternal grandmother. you loved your grandma to pieces and would protect her just as she has done for you in your childhood and adolescence. anyone could see that you were her favorite. she’d spoil you with the best of her homemade meals, the best gifts for special occasions, and you never forgot when she would discreetly slip a twenty in your palm while she gave fives to your cousins. you would never forget that she basically raised you from kindergarten to fifth grade while your parents worked long hours the week and they’d pick you up on weekends. one thing that you knew very well about your grandma was that she was invested in her “stories”. they were just daytime soap operas and her favorite of all time was general hospital. ever since day one in ‘sixty-three, your grandmother hasn’t missed a single episode. it’s amazing that her memory was starting to get faded as she was getting older, but rest assured, she could recall an entire episode from ‘seventy-four if she wanted to! word for word and bar for bar. as a kid, you would catch a confused glimpse of the tv-programming while you were at her house. you had no clue what was happening, but grandma was invested, so you might as well be. now, as an adult, you don’t have the time to regularly catch up on the show on your own, but you made it your duty to record the episodes for your grandmother to make sure her streak wasn’t broken.

one year prior to meeting nicholas, you visited your grandma to just cook her lunch and kick it with her stories. as you both sat and watched, you realized that so much has changed with the show over the years, both the plot line and the characters. your grandmother enthusiastically nudges you when her favorite couple by the names of “trina” and “spencer” appear on the screen. they were a beautiful interracial couple of people who looked to be right in your age range. the woman was african american with gorgeous, dark brown skin and long straight black hair. the man was a brunette caucasian that was tall, muscular, and definitely handsome. you assumed that your grandmother caught your lingering gaze on the man and she teased you saying that he would exactly be your type, you just laughed her off and continued watching the episode because this man was a whole celebrity, so the chances of you and him crossing paths were very slim.

but never zero.

fast forward to a year later, you were flown out by your friend in l.a. that was interning for the costume design team on the set for a netflix docudrama series based on the case of the menendez brothers. the premiere was quickly approaching and she was allowed to bring a plus one, which would be you. as you guys were getting ready, she gave you the details about the designer fashion used in the show and you chuckled as she couldn’t stop talking about how fine the actors playing the brothers were.

“girl, i can’t wait for you to meet the crew tonight! on my soul the one who plays lyle would definitely be your type.” she hypes once you guys pull up to the venue. the hollywood life was like a dream. camera’s flashing from every corner, people wanting your autograph, giving exclusive interviews, and just the general buzzing of excitement in the air as you both entered on the red carpet. just only a few minutes before the screening started, your friend had to go talk with a team member, leaving the next few empty seats beside you open. your eyes dart around the room as you nervously wait for your friend’s return until you hear a male voice.

“uh, hey, is this seat taken?” he politely asked. you didn’t really get a look at him because the house lights of the theater were cut off, but you could see that was really tall and muscular based off of his silhouette. with a shake of your head, you gesture towards the seat next to you in which he graciously sat, giving you a soft spoken thank you. you gulp a bit now that you were even more nervous than before, out of habit your knee nervously bounced up and down the more your impatience was growing. out of the corner of his eye, he noticed your fidgeting.

“hey, i hate to bother you again, but are you alright? you seem a bit nervous.” he alluded to your still bouncing knee. you take a deep breath to promptly regulate, stopping your movements and turning your head to the stranger.

“my bad, i’m just waiting for my friend to get back. she’s like the only i person i know here, it’s a little embarrassing.” you whispered with a nervous chuckle.

“well, in that case, my name’s nicholas. what’s yours?”

“y/n.”

“nice to meet you. that’s pretty name for a what i assume is a pretty girl. it’s kind of hard to see in here.”

you both quietly chuckle and you thank him for the compliment before he speaks one final time before the screening officially starts.

“now, you shouldn’t be so nervous because you know two people here.”

the smile that was etched on your face didn’t disappear after you two got to see each other in the well-lit room of the after-party. god, this man was more good-looking than you pictured him to be and by the way he was throwing game, he found you to be a sight for sore eyes also. for some odd reason, it felt like you’ve seen him somewhere before, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. you forgot that your friend was even your ride until you realized that she was ready to turn in for the night. you and nicholas didn’t want to leave without at least exchanging numbers and that’s how those texts turned to late night talks to continuous dates. after a few months of dating, you two were officially an item and you decided to move to l.a. to be closer.

on about the third date, you told nicholas that you had that feeling that you’ve seen him before, but you don’t know where from. you knew it definitely wasn’t in person, so it had to be on television. it all came together when he told you that was also working on none other than general hospital as, you guessed it, spencer cassadine. with a palm to your face, you erupt with giggles. nicholas inquires you on the joke, you tell him about your grandmother’s love for the soap opera and how she gushes about his character. he blushes when you say she’s basically his biggest fan! you don’t forget how she told you that he would be your type of man and that your friend at the premiere said the exact same thing. it’s funny how fate works that way. the dream of your sweet, soap opera loving grandmother getting the chance to meet her favorite star of her favorite soap and the love of your life, would now become a reality tonight at the one of the fanciest restaurants in town.

“thank you, sweetheart, but not half as amazing as you.” he responds with a lopsided smile and plants a soft kiss on your full, glossed lips.

“easy now, boo. save that charm for our special guest tonight, hm?”

you bashfully quip with a smirk as the heat rises on the cheeks of your melanated face. you then peer down at your wrist watch to check the time. you knew it was time to set the plan in motion. your palms smooth down the dress you chose for the evening and you retrieve your purse before you turn to nicholas to go over the plan one last time.

“okay, remember, i’ll go to pick her up and tell them our reservation. luckily, they still seat you if one person is a bit late. then, you’ll walk in with your fine self holding the bouquet of roses, are we clear?” you stated shifting your eyes from nicholas to the flowers that lay on the mini table of the hotel room.

“crystal.” nicholas affirms with a nod. his large hand softly catches your wrist before you try to scurry out to the elevator. being in a bit of a rush, you thought it could wait, but who were you to deny such a man like him? you gave in.

“what’s up, love?” you attentively urge. he pulls you closer to place his hands on your hips while yours find their way to his forearms.

“you know that you’re literally the best, right? this what you’re doing for her has shown me how big your heart is for those you love. i won’t lie—that makes me so proud to call you mine.” his spoke with soft sincerity as he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, the loose dangling curls tickle across your skin. that familiar heat returns and the tempo of your pounding heart increases. his words rendered you speechless. even though nicholas worked as an actor, he could make a killing at being a poet because he always knew what to say. he took your moment of silence as an opportunity to speak one last time. the warm, coffee gaze of his eyes never dared to pull away from yours.

“you’re just beautiful—from the inside.”

the words halt from his pink lips. he draws them closer to fill the gap between you two, pulling you in for a brief, yet passionate kiss which you eagerly reciprocate for a few seconds before he pulls away to resume speaking,

“and definitely from the outside. i love you so much, y/n.” he concludes with one of his hands cupping along your jawline, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek.

“and i love you so much, nicholas. thank you. i just want to give back to her what she’s given to me all of these years. i literally couldn’t have done this without you.” you respond with the same soft tone and return a chaste peck to his lips.

“now, i gotta go and get her before this whole thing falls through. i’ll see you in a little bit and don’t forget the flowers, okay?” with a light squeeze to his arms, you free yourself from his grip with your belongings in tow and give him one last smile before exiting your room and taking the elevator down to the lobby. after your uber arrives, you call your grandmother’s in-home caretaker that you would be arriving promptly to pick her up. once you pull in the driveway, you walk up to the door of the house that has brought you several fond childhood memories, you take the key that was made for you and unlock the door to see your grandmother all dolled up in her modest red velvet dress. her natural gray curls were styled beautifully on her head and her lips were painted to match her dress. with a child-like enthusiasm, you greet her in a warm embrace and a kiss to her forehead, not forgetting to tell the eighty one year old how radiant she looked. her scent was always the signature of elizabeth taylor’s white diamond perfume. the caretaker helps you get her into the car safely and you embark on the way to the restaurant. during the ride, you catch her up on life things and you inquire if she’s been eating, taking her meds, and watching her stories. you smile as the driver makes the turn into the parking lot and you find a good spot near the entrance.

“okay, grandma, we’re here! i have someone special i really want you to meet tonight and they’re really excited to meet you too.” you say, unbuckling both of your seatbelts.

“oh, really? who is it, baby?” she inquires with a piqued gaze in her eye while she watches you get out the car to help her out of her seat.

“as excited as i am to let you know, it’s a surprise!”

she playfully groans and you laugh as you hold on tightly to her hand to guide her to the entrance and confirm your reservation with the hostess who then immediately guides you to the secluded table in the vip section. your grandmother stares in awe at where you two were seated.

“baby, are we meeting the president or something? this looks a bit expensive.”

you giggle knowing that she was serious, she still looked impressed nonetheless.

“no, grandma, it’s the not the president. we’re just meeting my boyfriend and he wanted us to be treated well tonight.”

her eyes widen with wonder and she pulls you in for a hug.

“aw, my baby is in love! i’m so happy for you. does he make you happy?”

you pull back with a simper and eagerly nod at the mere thought of him.

“yes, he really does, grandma. i love him so much.”

“well, ain’t that a blessing? i knew there was a little glow on you, but i didn’t want to be wrong.”

you tell her that it was no worries and your gaze shifts to the entrance to see the familiar tall figure you’ve come to know and love. he’s finally here. you tell your grandmother to sit tight for a moment while you go to fetch nicholas. he was casually standing handsome and tall with the bouquet of roses in one hand and the other, in his pocket. once you made your way to the hostess station, you inform that nicholas is in the party of your reservation and he intertwines the hand that was in his pocket with yours before you both stride across the room to the vip table. your grandmother was reading over the menu and you call out her name causing her gaze up at you both. you and him were getting excited as you observed her facial expression when she laid her eyes upon your boyfriend. realization paints her face when she makes the connection,

“spencer. i-is that you?” she quizzes with a star struck tone. with a blushing grin, nicholas deliberately approaches and takes a seat next to her. her stare doesn’t break from the man. he takes the moment to introduce himself.

“you may know me as spencer from the show, but i’m also your lovely granddaughter’s boyfriend, nicholas. it’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am. may i?” nicholas holds out his hand and when he grants your grandmother’s consent, he lifts her hand to his lips to place a delicate kiss on it. you take out your phone to capture photos of this moment. your grandmother couldn’t stop her giggling of excitement when she graciously took the flowers from nicholas.

“look at the camera, you two!” nicholas gently puts his arm around her shoulders and she naturally leans into his touch for the first photo. for the second, she places a kiss upon his cheek, making nicholas grin so hard that his face probably hurt. by the way he blushed from that kiss, you’d thought that your grandmother was going to take your man for sure. it didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that your grandmother adored nicholas and nicholas, her. you assumed that their chemistry was so off the chain, that if you left them, they wouldn’t even notice your absence. you put away your phone and take the seat on the other side of your grandmother, placing her in the center.

“ooh, y/n! he’s just as sweet as he can be. he’s more handsome than he looks on my stories. you better keep him, girl.” she chimes as she gets an eyeful of nicholas’ dashing features to which his cheeks never stop their glow of red while continually thanking her. you couldn’t pay him a million dollars to be arrogant if you tried and that’s one of the many things you loved so much about him. nicholas adds in the conversation,

“if it’s any consolation, i don’t plan on letting of y/n anytime soon. that’s if she’ll have me.” those pretty brown eyes peer into yours. the glint of sincerity shoots you right through the heart. you smile returning the same expression,

“i couldn’t get rid of you if i wanted to, so of course.”

“awww! you’re more romantic than spencer and trina!” your grandmother chimes in and you calm her down to make sure her excitement doesn’t affect her health.

when everyone has ordered, your grandmother continues to ask nicholas about himself, especially on the show. she was a bit bummed out that he couldn’t reveal the details of the new episode coming in january, but he was going to give her a special gift for the holidays to make up for it. as you’re all eating dinner, you groan in playful embarrassment when she recalled your childhood memories to him. like the time you were at the park, and you wanted the merry-go-round to spin super fast, she warned you to shut that down. did you listen? nope. you spun that thing so fast, you threw up on another kid’s shoes. nicholas bent over in laughter while the elder shook her head at you with a grin.

“grandmaaaa! why’d you expose me like that?” you pout at her with a glare towards nicholas.

“because you’re hard-headed, but i still love you.”she retorts.

“i’m working on it, trust! and—i love you too!”

nicholas sat and observed your interactions between you two, it was so refreshing to see you both at ease and talk like the best of friends despite the fifty-six year age gap between you two. when you all are full, nicholas picks up the tab for dinner, in which you two thank him with a kiss on each side of his face and you order the uber for you all to share to bring you home. you let her take a bathroom break and you get the notification that your uber has arrived. with nicholas walking out in front in of you both, you take your grandma by the hand as you two follow his lead. once he confirms that the uber is legit, he opens the door for you both to climb in. with your grandma in the center again, you sit back as the third wheel as they continue their animated discussion about general hospital and your relationship during the entire ride back to her house. you text the caretaker that you have pulled up, but to open the door because you and nicholas were going to help her to the door.

“thank you so much for dinner, you two! i had such a great time. it was such a pleasure meeting you, spen—i mean, nicholas! lord, have mercy you’re both so charming, i can’t tell the difference.” she bade sending him a wave.

you all filled the air with laughter as you three strolled towards the porch.

“you’re very welcome! the pleasure is definitely all mine, ma’am. i can see where y/n gets—well, everything from! heh.” he says with the notable twinkle in his eye.

you both coo at his charm.

“jesus, if i were just fifty years younger—“

“grandma! chill!” you playfully chide the elder and nicholas chortles as you all go up the steps, meeting the caretaker at the front door. after all was said and done, you and nicholas bid her a final goodnight with a hug and kiss to the cheek before she disappears into the house to retire for the night. the uber then drops you and nicholas off at your hotel. once you get to the room, you both share a shower together, change into something comfortable, and cuddle within the king sized bed. you’re both still pretty wired from the evening, so you just talked about the plans of spending time with her tomorrow because your flight doesn’t leave until the day afterwards.

“babe, your grandmother is one of the cutest women i’ve ever met—besides you of course.”

“mm-hmmm. i better and thank you! she really likes you too, you know. like i said, she’s your biggest fan. i bet you she’s gonna call up her friend, miss edna, and tell her all about it in the morning.” you both chuckle and there’s a beat of silence and it was your turn to break it,

“nick, can i confess something?”

“yeah, what’s on your mind, doll?”

“you know how grandma said that we were more romantic than spencer and trina? can i say that i really appreciated her saying that? i won’t lie when i’ve seen some of those scenes, i thought you and tabyana were a thing.— i even get just a little jealous sometimes. i know it’s your job and—”

“hey, hey, hey. c’mere.” with arms already around you he shifts you from his side and positions you on top of him.

“like i told your grandma, i’m not going anywhere anytime with anyone. you’re the one for me. i may get some attention here and there from the rest of the world, but look at who’s with me right now. i’m your biggest fan and if i have to reassure that when you need, i got you like you got me, are we clear?”

you hold his gaze now with relief washing over you, a smile grows on your face and you nod to affirm his question.

“crystal.” you utter before bringing your lips to his for a kiss. nicholas doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate as you place your hands on each side of his sharp jawline and his hands rest themselves on your hips. you both indulge in each other for about a minute or two before you give each other one final “i love you” before letting a well-deserved slumber take over your exhausted bodies.