✧ after weeks of pretending he could survive the breakup, nicholas finally shows up at your door with flowers in his hands and too many things left unsaid. the conversation hurts, loving each other still hurts more, and somehow neither of you really learned how to stop.
✧ part 1 | part 2
✧ nicholas x reader | exes to lovers, angst, reconciliation, hurt/comfort, emotional confrontation, idol au | wc: ~1.3k
✧ author’s note: PART 2 PART 2 PART 2 AHHH (can make part 3 if you guys want! i can see like a what happens inside apartment/epilogue moment but major fluff bc like ugh they need it... also thank you guys so much for all the support! so so happy you all loved part 1 hehe)
the drive over felt endless.
every red light lasted too long.
every second made him think maybe this was stupid. maybe he was already too late. maybe you wouldn’t even open the door.
nicholas gripped the steering wheel tighter.
his heartbeat hadn’t slowed once since leaving the dorm.
rain dotted weakly against the windshield, city lights smearing across the glass in blurred streaks while memories kept hitting him one after another like punishment.
your laugh in the passenger seat.
your hand stealing fries from his bag at stoplights.
the way you used to sing wrong lyrics confidently just to annoy him.
three years.
three years, and he almost let silence become the ending.
his phone buzzed again through the cupholder.
this time he looked.
ej.
he answered on speaker without taking his eyes off the road.
“did you seriously leave?”
“yes.”
a pause.
then, “okay. good.”
nicholas let out a breathy laugh despite himself.
“bring flowers,” ej added immediately.
“i’m literally driving right now.”
“then apologize extra hard.”
the call disconnected before he could answer.
nicholas stared ahead again.
then quieter, mostly to himself—
“i know.”
—
your apartment building looked exactly the same.
and somehow that made it worse.
the same dim hallway lights.
the same crooked number plate beside your door.
the same stupid welcome mat you refused to throw away because “it had personality.”
his stomach twisted violently as he stood there.
for the first time since getting out of the car, fear finally caught up to him properly.
what if you’d moved on?
what if you were happier now?
what if he was only showing up because he couldn’t handle losing you, not because he deserved another chance?
nicholas swallowed hard.
then knocked anyway.
once.
twice.
movement sounded faintly inside.
and suddenly every nerve in his body lit on fire.
the lock clicked.
the door opened.
you froze.
so did he.
for a second neither of you spoke at all.
you looked tired.
not dramatically.
not heartbreak-movie devastated.
just… tired in the way people become after carrying sadness quietly for too long.
nicholas thought that somehow hurt worse.
your eyes flicked over him carefully, like you weren’t sure if he was real.
“...nicholas?”
his throat tightened instantly at hearing his name in your voice again.
“hi.”
you stared at him.
then at the late hour behind him.
then back at him again.
“i don’t—” you started softly, confused. “what are you doing here?”
everything he rehearsed in the car disappeared immediately.
every sentence.
every explanation.
gone.
because standing in front of you again after weeks apart didn’t feel like heartbreak or resentment.
it felt like finally breathing after drowning.
nicholas looked at you for one long second before saying honestly,
“i think i made the worst mistake of my life.”
your expression cracked slightly.
just slightly.
but he saw it.
you looked down immediately afterward like you hated that he saw it.
the hallway stayed painfully quiet.
rain tapped softly against the building windows somewhere farther away.
nicholas rubbed both hands nervously against his jeans before speaking again.
“i know i probably don’t deserve you opening this door right now,” he said carefully. “and i know i can’t fix everything in one conversation, but i need you to know that losing you feels wrong. like—”
he stopped, jaw tightening.
“like i’ve spent three weeks existing without anything actually reaching me.”
your eyes lifted back to his slowly.
he kept going before courage disappeared.
“i kept trying to tell myself maybe this was for the best. maybe we just grew apart or maybe love isn’t always enough or whatever people say to survive breakups.” he laughed weakly. “but then i found the scrapbook.”
your breath caught faintly.
“and i realized something.”
nicholas stepped a little closer.
“every single memory in that thing still feels like home to me.”
silence.
heavy.
dangerous.
your fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the door.
“nicholas…”
“i’m not here because i’m lonely,” he said quickly. “and i’m not here because i suddenly forgot the reasons we broke up. i know i hurt you.”
that one almost broke him to admit out loud.
“i know i did.”
you looked away again.
and that hurt too.
because he knew exactly why.
the missed calls.
the postponed dates.
the exhaustion that slowly turned into distance.
the way love had started getting buried underneath schedules and stress and silence neither of you knew how to fix properly.
he took another breath.
“but i still love you,” he said quietly. “stupidly. completely. in the terrifying way that makes every future i imagined still have you in it automatically.”
your eyes watered immediately.
nicholas felt his own vision blur.
“i don’t need everything to go back to normal tonight,” he continued softly. “i just… i need to know if there’s still something here worth fighting for.”
for a long moment, you said nothing.
then finally—
“you really hurt me.”
the words came out small.
not angry.
which somehow made them infinitely worse.
nicholas nodded instantly. “i know.”
“there were days i felt like i was begging you to notice me.”
his chest caved inward.
“i know.”
“you stopped talking to me when things got hard.”
“i know.”
your voice shook now despite your obvious attempts to steady it.
“and the worst part is i kept understanding why you were overwhelmed, so i felt guilty for being upset at all.”
nicholas closed his eyes briefly.
every sentence landed exactly where it deserved to.
you wiped at your face quickly, frustrated tears slipping out anyway.
“i hated missing you even while we were still together.”
that one nearly destroyed him.
nicholas looked at you helplessly.
then quietly—
“i hated myself for becoming someone who could make you feel alone.”
silence again.
but different this time.
softer.
you stared at him for a long moment like you were trying to decide whether trusting him again would heal you or ruin you completely.
nicholas let you.
he didn't rush to fill the silence.
didn't try to convince you.
didn't make promises he couldn't keep.
for the first time, he just stood there and let you see everything.
the fear.
the regret.
the hope.
all of it.
then he took a shaky breath.
“i don't know what happens after this,” he admitted quietly.
your eyes flickered.
“i don't know if you're ready to forgive me. i don't know if i deserve it.”
his throat tightened.
“but if there’s even the smallest chance... i'll do this right this time.”
the words came out rough.
honest.
“i'll show up.”
your expression faltered.
“every day if i have to.”
nicholas swallowed.
“because losing you made me realize something.”
his voice softened.
“you were never something i wanted to fit into my life.”
your eyes watered immediately.
“you’re the person i want to spend my life with.”
for a second neither of you moved.
then your gaze dropped suddenly toward his hands.
“nicholas?”
he blinked. “what?”
“you brought flowers?”
he looked down like he forgot he was holding them at all.
a laugh escaped you unexpectedly through your tears.
small.
watery.
real.
and nicholas swore his heart almost gave out on the spot.
“they were ej’s idea,” he admitted weakly.
you laughed again.
actually laughed this time.
god.
he missed that sound so much.
nicholas smiled before he could stop himself.
and seeing that seemed to affect you too, because your expression softened in a way he hadn’t seen in weeks.
carefully, uncertainly, you opened the door wider.
“…do you wanna come inside?”
—
𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 taglist: @ivelvette , @bloomedberry , @dedlexte , @kayceeeeeeeeee , @swansea090702 , (love u all so so much <3)
ꕤ｡˚⋆ two bunnies, one stage, and absolutely no crush ⋆˚｡ꕤ
✧ an award show special stage brings two “bunny idols” together for the first time on camera—but behind the practice room doors, harua is anything but calm.
✧ idol x idol, strangers to crushes, slow burn, fluff, awkward harua, oblivious reader, behind-the-scenes practice, nicholas being way too observant | wc: ~2.9k
k snorted. “he’s acting calm now but watch him panic later.”
“i’m not panicking.”
“sure.”
harua rolled his eyes lightly and stood up, grabbing his hoodie.
“you guys are weird.”
“he's nervous,” yuma whispered loudly the second he walked away.
“he’s absolutely nervous,” nicholas agreed.
from down the hallway, harua’s voice echoed back immediately:
“i can still hear you.”
—
he was not nervous.
seriously.
he wasn’t.
until the practice room door opened.
and you walked in.
harua looked up automatically—
and immediately forgot every coherent thought he’d ever had in his life.
because oh.
oh no.
you smiled the second you noticed him standing there.
bright. easy. pretty enough to make his brain completely short-circuit.
“hi!” you said quickly, bowing politely. “sorry if i’m late.”
harua stared.
you blinked.
“…hi?”
“harua,” the choreographer called slowly.
his soul reentered his body.
“right,” he said immediately, bowing so fast he almost scared himself. “hi. hello.”
you looked slightly surprised before smiling again.
“i’m excited to work with you.”
he nodded too quickly. “me too.”
too fast.
way too fast.
why did he say it like that.
you tilted your head slightly, clearly trying not to laugh.
cute.
you were cute.
this was horrible.
the practice started almost immediately after introductions, but harua realized something very quickly:
you talked to him extremely easily.
like you’d known him longer than ten minutes.
“wait, does this move feel awkward to you too?” you asked at one point, laughing while trying the choreography again. “i feel like i’m fighting the music.”
harua looked at you.
then immediately looked away because you were smiling again.
“…a little.”
“right?” you grinned. “okay good i thought i was just bad at this.”
“no, you’re amazing at dancing.”
the compliment came out instantly.
you blinked at him.
harua froze.
“…thank you,” you said softly.
he nodded once.
then walked directly into the mirrored wall.
the entire room went silent.
you gasped. “oh my god are you okay?!”
harua covered his face instantly.
he wanted to disappear.
the choreographer looked deeply concerned.
“harua?”
“i’m fine,” he mumbled from behind his hands.
you were trying so hard not to laugh.
which somehow made it worse.
—
it only got more embarrassing from there.
every single time you touched him during choreography practice, harua malfunctioned slightly.
hand touches? panic.
eye contact? worse.
one time you fixed the collar of his practice hoodie absentmindedly and he forgot an entire eight count immediately afterward.
“sorry!” you laughed. “did i distract you?”
harua stared at the floor.
“…maybe.”
you blinked.
then laughed again like you thought he was joking.
he wasn’t.
but somehow that made him even more flustered.
because now you kept talking to him comfortably while he was internally losing his mind.
“you’re quieter than i expected,” you said during break one day, sitting beside him on the floor.
harua nearly dropped his water bottle.
“…is that bad?”
“no! not at all!” you said quickly. “you’re easy to talk to though.”
he looked at you carefully.
“…i am?”
“mhm.” you smiled. “you listen really well.”
his ears turned pink instantly.
you noticed.
but seemed to interpret it completely differently.
“ahhh,” you said sympathetically. “do you get shy around new people?”
harua opened his mouth.
closed it.
“…yeah.”
that was technically true.
just not usually this bad.
you smiled warmly. “don’t worry. i talk enough for the both of us!”
he nodded faintly.
he had noticed.
—
by the third practice, the members started catching on.
especially nicholas.
because the second he walked into the practice room to “check how things were going,” he immediately stopped in the doorway.
harua was standing beside you while you talked animatedly about something, hands moving excitedly while laughing.
and harua—
harua was staring at you like you personally hung the stars.
nicholas slowly looked around the room.
then back at harua.
then suddenly started choking on his own laughter.
harua’s eyes widened immediately.
oh no.
“what?” you asked, blinking at nicholas.
“nothing,” nicholas said instantly, covering his mouth while laughing harder.
harua moved immediately.
“come outside,” he said flatly, grabbing nicholas by the sleeve.
nicholas practically doubled over. “no wait—”
“outside.”
“harua this is the funniest thin—”
“outside.”
you watched in confusion as harua dragged a still-laughing nicholas out of the practice room by force.
the door slammed shut behind them.
silence.
you blinked once.
“…what just happened.”
the choreographer looked up from the music controls.
“honestly?” he said. “i think you should let them work that out themselves.”
—
outside the practice room, nicholas was literally bent over laughing against the hallway wall.
“dude,” he wheezed. “you are SO gone.”
harua covered his face with one hand.
“stop talking.”
“you walked into a WALL.”
“i know.”
harua groaned quietly.
nicholas pointed at him accusingly. “and don’t think i didn’t notice you fixing your hair every ten seconds before practice.”
“i hate you.”
“no because like,” nicholas laughed. “you’ve had a crush for like three days and you already look ready to write her a song.”
harua slid down the wall slightly in defeat.
“…is it that obvious.”
nicholas stared at him.
then burst into laughter again.
harua wanted to disappear.
seriously.
“i don’t even know what happened,” he admitted quietly. “i saw her and then suddenly i forgot how to act like a person.”
nicholas wiped tears from his eyes dramatically.
“this is unbelievable.”
“you’re being really annoying right now.”
“because this is adorable,” nicholas corrected. “harua, you literally blush every time she smiles at you.”
harua looked away immediately.
which honestly answered enough.
nicholas grinned so hard it looked painful.
“you have a crushhhhh.”
harua sighed into his hands.
“…ok maybe.”
there was a long pause.
then nicholas softened slightly, still smiling.
“…you should talk to her more.”
harua blinked. “what.”
“she likes talking to you, idiot.”
his stomach flipped instantly.
“you think so?”
nicholas stared at him like it was obvious.
she literally kept circling back to you every time the conversation drifted,” nicholas said, shaking his head. “like she didn’t want it to end.”
"really?"
harua went quiet.
nicholas glanced at him again, amused. “I can't believe you just looked at her for five straight minutes while she talked about milk tea flavors.”
“…they sounded important.”
nicholas collapsed in laughter for the 5th time.
and inside the practice room—
you sat cross-legged on the floor, completely unaware that harua was currently outside having a full emotional crisis about you.
✧ three weeks after the breakup, nicholas is barely holding himself together in a dorm. but when he finds the scrapbook you made for your anniversary, he’s forced to relive every moment you built together—and realize none of it ever really stopped mattering.
✧ nicholas x reader | exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, flashback-heavy, emotional breakup fic, idol/band au | wc: ~3.4k
✧ author’s note: wait i think i like writing angst… should i do a part 2??
the dorm felt too quiet without you.
not physically quiet—someone was always doing something. the tv in the living room played at low volume, one of the members was laughing somewhere down the hall, and footsteps passed every few minutes—but none of it reached him properly. everything sounded far away now, muffled behind the constant static in his head.
nicholas sat on the edge of his bed, staring at absolutely nothing.
three weeks.
three weeks since the breakup, and somehow everything still looked exactly the same while feeling completely ruined.
his phone buzzed beside him again.
he didn’t check it.
a knock sounded against the doorframe before it pushed open slightly.
“hey.”
ej leaned against the doorway, arms crossed loosely. his expression shifted almost immediately when he saw nicholas sitting there in the dark.
“you didn’t eat again?”
nicholas shrugged without looking up. “not hungry.”
“that’s what you said yesterday.”
“and the day before,” k added as he appeared behind ej, carrying a convenience store bag. “at this point it’s getting annoying.”
nicholas huffed a weak laugh through his nose, but it died quickly.
k stepped into the room anyway and tossed a drink onto the bed beside him. “you look terrible.”
“thanks.”
“you’re welcome.”
for a second, none of them said anything.
ej glanced around the room carefully, like he was trying to check how bad things had gotten without making it obvious. clothes half-folded. empty water bottles. a hoodie tossed over the lamp. the kind of mess that happens when someone stops caring little by little instead of all at once.
“have you talked to her?” ej asked carefully.
nicholas shook his head.
“did she text?”
another shake.
k sighed quietly and sat on the floor near the bed. “you’re seriously just gonna rot in here forever?”
“maybe.”
“that’s dramatic.”
“i’m literally heartbroken.”
“you’re also irritating.”
that got another tiny laugh out of him.
tiny. brief. gone again.
k and ej exchanged a look.
“come eat with us later,” ej said softly. “even if you don’t feel like talking.”
nicholas nodded vaguely, though all three of them knew it probably meant no.
the door clicked shut behind them after a few more minutes, leaving the room silent again.
too silent.
nicholas rubbed both hands over his face before finally forcing himself to move. he bent down beside the bed, reaching for his charger that had fallen between a stack of boxes.
that’s when he saw it.
a dark blue scrapbook tucked halfway underneath one of them.
his stomach dropped instantly.
no.
slowly, carefully, he pulled it out.
the edges were worn from being opened too many times. little stickers still clung crookedly to the cover, and in faded silver marker were the words:
“3 years with you ♡”
his chest physically hurt.
he swallowed hard and opened it anyway.
the first page was messy and overdecorated in the way you always liked—tiny notes in the corners, ticket stubs taped beside pictures, little arrows pointing to inside jokes only the two of you understood.
his thumb brushed over one photo.
a park bench at night.
both of you were mid-laugh, posed horribly off-center because you’d been running against a timer.
and suddenly—
—
“wait, wait, it’s counting!”
“i know it’s counting!”
“you pushed the button too early!”
“run faster then!”
nicholas nearly tripped over the curb trying to sprint back toward the bench while you were already doubled over laughing beside him.
the phone balanced dangerously against your drink cup on the pavement, timer flashing down.
3… 2…
he threw himself onto the bench dramatically at the last second, grabbing your shoulders to yank you into frame.
the picture snapped right as you both burst into laughter.
“oh my god,” you wheezed immediately, grabbing the phone. “you look insane.”
“you blinked!”
“because you elbowed me in the face!”
“that sounds like a you problem.”
you gasped in fake offense before shoving him hard enough to make him slide sideways on the bench.
the night air had been cold enough to turn your noses pink, but neither of you cared. you both stayed there for almost an hour taking increasingly worse timer photos.
one where he fell mid-run.
one where you laughed so hard you disappeared entirely from frame.
one blurry picture where he was kissing your cheek while you looked at the camera with wide, betrayed eyes.
“i’m putting this one in the scrapbook,” you announced proudly.
“delete that immediately.”
“never.”
“people will think i’m in love with you.”
you smiled then.
soft. easy. certain.
“you are.”
and god, he was.
—
nicholas blinked hard and looked away from the photo.
his chest tightened painfully.
he turned the page.
another picture.
this one quieter.
the two of you sitting on the floor of your apartment surrounded by half-finished takeout containers and fairy lights. you’d fallen asleep against his shoulder while he looked down at you with that unconscious softness people only have when they don’t realize they’re being watched.
a handwritten note underneath read:
“i didn’t realize it then, but i think i only ever truly rested when it was you.”
his throat closed.
—
he flipped to another page.
this one was different.
a rooftop.
—
city lights stretching endlessly below you both, the night wind tugging at your hair and making the world feel like it belonged to only the two of you for a little while. you were wrapped in his jacket, sleeves swallowed past your hands, while he stood behind you pretending not to notice how you kept leaning back into him for warmth.
his arms wrapped around your waist from behind, firm in the way of something familiar. his chin rested lightly near your shoulder, and his hands stayed locked around you like they belonged there.
“you’re gonna get sick out here,” he muttered.
“you always say that when we’re here, and guess what? i never do,” you said, smiling a little as you nudged him playfully.
he scoffed, but still adjusted the jacket tighter around your waist without thinking.
you went quiet after a moment, resting your elbows on the edge of the roof and looking out over the city.
“it feels like everything’s so big from up here,” you said softly.
nicholas followed your gaze. “yeah.”
a pause.
then, quieter:
“but it doesn’t feel as scary.”
that made him look at you instead of the city.
you were smiling a little, not the loud kind this time. something steadier.
“you know,” you added, “i think if i ever feel lost, i’d still find my way back to you.”
his breath caught slightly at that.
“that’s a lot of pressure,” he said, trying to keep it light.
you turned toward him fully, the wind pushing your hair across your face.
“no,” you said simply. “it’s just where i want to end up.”
he didn’t answer right away.
he just looked at you like he was trying to memorize something he already knew he’d never forget.
then, quieter than everything else:
“i could do forever with you.”
you blinked at him, surprised by the honesty.
then you smiled—slow, certain, devastating in its softness.
“good,” you said. “because i already planned on it.”
—
nicholas shut the scrapbook suddenly.
too fast.
his breathing had gone uneven.
he stared at the cover for a long moment before pressing the heel of his hand hard against his eyes.
because the worst part wasn’t missing you.
it was knowing you had loved him that deeply once.
and somehow he still let things fall apart.
a knock sounded again before the door cracked open.
k peeked in first this time. “you alive?”
nicholas didn’t answer immediately.
ej appeared beside him—and both of them stopped when they noticed the scrapbook sitting in his lap.
the room went quiet.
“oh,” ej said softly.
nicholas looked down at it again.
at the stupid stickers.
the bent corners.
the memories you had carefully glued together because you thought you’d have forever to keep adding more.
something in him snapped into place all at once.
not painfully.
clearly.
he stood up so abruptly both ej and k startled.
“nicholas—?”
he shoved the scrapbook carefully back into its box before grabbing his jacket from the chair.
k blinked. “wait, where are you going?”
nicholas was already pulling on a hat, grabbing his keys off the desk.
ej stared at him for a second before realization slowly spread across his face.
and for the first time in weeks, nicholas actually looked awake.
terrified, maybe.
but awake.
he opened the bedroom door and finally said,
“i’m getting my person back.”
then he was gone before either of them could stop him.
ꕤ｡˚⋆ don’t call it romance, it’s choreography ⋆˚｡ꕤ
✧ a “casual” dance practice turns into hand-holding, bad footwork, and very questionable professionalism when yuma decides teaching you choreography is basically an excuse to flirt.
✧ yuma x reader | established relationship, idol au, fluff, teasing, comedy, soft romance, practice room chaos | wc: ~2k
✧ author’s note: yuma vs. two nosy members (he lost instantly) ♡
the dance practice room was supposed to be empty, but it definitely wasn’t.
the speakers were playing something way too loud for “just chilling,” and you were already bouncing slightly on your heels before you even finished taking your jacket off, humming along under your breath like you were part of the song already.
“no,” you said immediately, pointing at the mirror with a grin. “don’t start judging me yet.”
yuma turned around from where he was messing with the speaker, looking way too pleased with himself.
“i didn’t even say anything,” he replied.
“your face did.”
he gasped like he was offended, but he was already smiling. “my face is neutral.”
you walked over quickly, light on your feet, squinting at him like you were trying to decode him. “your face is literally laughing at me already.”
“that’s because i know what’s about to happen,” he said, stepping closer and grabbing your hand before you could protest. “you’re about to suffer.”
you squeezed his hand back immediately, smiling like that was a challenge. “i came here voluntarily.”
“that’s what makes it worse.”
you both moved to the center of the room, standing in front of the mirror. he bounced lightly on his heels, and you mirrored him without thinking, still smiling like you were about to have way too much fun for something “serious.”
“okay,” he said, clapping once. “this is easy. even you can do it.”
you gasped, laughing already. “even me?”
“yeah,” he nodded like it was obvious, then softened it immediately with a grin. “i believe in you though.”
“that sounded like an insult and a compliment fighting.”
“it was both,” he said proudly.
you bumped his arm with your shoulder, still smiling, and he immediately caught your wrist like he was expecting it.
“okay okay, listen,” he said, still holding your hand now. “just copy me. no thinking. thinking is where you go wrong.”
“wow. inspirational.”
"thank you."
the music started properly this time, and he immediately began doing the steps with way too much confidence for something he called “easy.”
you tried to follow, very seriously for about two seconds.
you failed immediately.
“nope,” he said, stopping mid-step and turning to you. “why are your feet arguing with you?”
you blinked, laughing. “they’re not arguing.”
“they are protesting.”
“i’m doing it right.”
“you just spun in the wrong direction.”
you tilted your head, still smiling. “that was artistic interpretation.”
he stared at you for a second, then broke into a grin. “okay. no. we’re restarting your brain.”
“excuse me?”
he stepped closer and placed his hands at your waist, gently guiding you into position as he made a small guiding motion, thumbs steady while he adjusted your stance without even thinking.
“watch,” he said, voice softer now but still playful. “left. right. turn. it’s literally just walking but dramatic.”
“you’re making it sound worse,” you said, as you leaned towards him.
“it is worse.”
you both burst out laughing, the whole “serious practice” completely gone already.
he tried again showing you again, slower this time, and you followed him with exaggerated focus, lips slightly parted like you were actually concentrating way too hard.
“why are you doing that face,” he asked, laughing.
“it helps me focus.”
“it does not.”
“it does.”
“it makes you look like a stressed raccoon.”
you gasped. “i am not a raccoon.”
“you are emotionally a raccoon right now.”
you swung his hand lightly, still smiling. “you’re distracting me on purpose.”
“i’m not,” he said immediately, then grinned. “okay maybe a little.”
after a few tries, you actually got the step right.
you froze for half a second, then lit up instantly, eyes wide.
“did you see that?” you said, bouncing slightly in place. “i did it!”
he blinked at you like he was genuinely impressed despite himself. “you mean the one time you didn’t almost fall into the mirror? yes, i witnessed history.”
you laughed, bumping into him lightly. “you’re so mean.”
“i’m honest,” he corrected, then softened immediately, squeezing your hand once. “you did good though.”
you tried to hide your smile and failed completely, your whole face bright.
“obviously i did good,” you said.
he nodded like it was serious. “obviously.”
then, without warning, he lifted your hand and spun you once, slow and careful so you wouldn’t lose balance.
you stumbled a little anyway, laughing loudly. “hey!”
“see?” he said, stepping back into place with you still holding his hand. “now you’re dancing. that was the whole lesson.”
“you literally tricked me into spinning in circles.”
“and you liked it.”
you opened your mouth to argue—
but you were already smiling too much.
you groaned, covering your face with your free hand. “you’re so annoying.”
“and yet,” he said, leaning in slightly so your shoulders bumped, “you’re still here.”
you peeked at him through your fingers, eyes still bright. “yeah,” you admitted. “unfortunately.”
he laughed, then squeezed your hand again, softer this time.
“come on,” he said. “one more time. and this time try not to attack the choreography.”
“no promises.”
“that’s my girl.”
the door opened right as he said it.
harua and nicholas both walked in.
they stopped instantly.
harua tilted his head, looking between your linked hands and yuma’s very suspiciously red ears. “ohhh.”
nicholas immediately grinned like he’d just found entertainment for the entire week. “wow. we should’ve brought snacks.”
you both froze.
yuma straightened immediately—still holding your hand—but cleared his throat like he could professionally reset the universe.
harua leaned in a little, smiling sweetly. “are we interrupting something… or are you two just rehearsing the art of holding hands professionally?”
“we're practicing our choreography,” he said.
harua tilted his head. “with hand-holding?”
“it improves balance,” yuma added way too quickly.
nicholas nodded seriously. “ah. advanced technique.”
harua stepped a little closer, smiling sweetly. “and saying ‘that’s my girl’ is part of the choreography too?”
yuma froze for half a second.
“uhhh…it has emotional expression,” he said, recovering fast, but his ears were definitely turning pink now.
nicholas grinned. “oh this is worse. he’s explaining it.”
you started laughing immediately.
yuma glanced at you like he was betrayed by your amusement, but there was no real panic in it—just mild annoyance and fond embarrassment.
“you guys are distracting,” he said.
harua gasped lightly. “we are supporting the arts.”
nicholas nodded. “we are witnesses.”
“uninvited witnesses,” yuma muttered.
harua waved. “don’t worry, we’ll tell no one.”
nicholas added, “we’ll tell everyone.”
they left.
the door clicked shut.
you and yuma stood there for a second.
still holding hands.
then both of you broke into laughter at the exact same time.
“i hate them,” yuma said through his hands.
“you love them,” you corrected, still laughing.
he peeked at you, still red. “i also hate you a little right now.”
“liar.”
“…okay i don’t.”
and that just made both of you laugh harder again.
✧ meeting one of nicholas’ members for the first time feels like stepping into a new world—until you realize you fit into it more easily than you expected, and maybe you always have
✧ nicholas x fem!reader ft. euijoo | established relationship, fluff, romance, slice of life, meeting the members, comfort, casual banter, domestic softness | wc: 2,100+
✧ author’s note: i got way too soft writing this 😭 and euijoo was truly the cherry on top
you don’t think you’re nervous until nicholas opens the café door.
then, okay… maybe a little nervous.
not because of him—you’ve been dating nicholas long enough that his hand in yours feels like second nature now, like it just belongs there.
it’s the fact that you’re meeting one of his best friends for the first time.
“you’re fine,” nicholas murmurs, squeezing your hand once. “he literally asked to meet you.”
“that’s exactly why i need to be on my best behavior,” you say, way too seriously.
he laughs. “you don’t even have a worst behavior.”
“that’s not true,” you reply immediately. “i once got lost inside a building that had one hallway.”
nicholas pauses. “wait, that was this building. like just now.”
“exactly,” you say proudly.
he shakes his head like he’s already given up on you—but he’s smiling.
the story is simple: you were supposed to meet him outside the café. easy plan. very straightforward.
but you saw a sign that said “café entrance” and another that said “this way,” and your brain went, surely both lead to the same place.
they did not.
you ended up walking a full circle, briefly considered if you had entered a parallel universe, and then texted nicholas: i think the café is avoiding me.
he had to come find you.
which is why, now, he does not trust your sense of direction at all.
the café door opens.
and everything softens immediately.
euijoo is already there, standing when he sees you, polite but warm.
nicholas doesn’t even introduce you like it’s a big deal—it’s casual, easy—but his eyes still flick to you right after, like he’s checking your reaction.
you wave immediately. “hi, i’m the one who almost got lost in a straight line earlier.”
nicholas groans quietly. “you don’t have to start with that.”
euijoo blinks once.
then laughs.
not loud—just surprised, like he didn’t expect that to be the first thing he hears about you.
“you got lost here?” he asks.
“i didn’t get lost,” you correct confidently. “i explored aggressively.”
that makes him laugh again, properly this time.
and just like that, the tension is gone.
you sit down like you’ve known him already for a while, not carefully or shyly, but comfortably—leaning forward when you talk, smiling openly, completely unbothered.
euijoo picks up on that immediately, but he doesn’t make it a big thing. he just falls into the rhythm of the conversation with you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
it’s easy.
nicholas leans back in his chair, watching both of you.
you end up drifting into easier conversation at first, talking about small things—random habits, how nicholas always loses his phone in the most obvious places, how you somehow end up talking faster when you’re excited.
euijoo listens like he’s quietly collecting all of it, amused but not interrupting.
at one point, you gesture at nicholas. “he also pretends he’s not dramatic, but he absolutely is.”
“i am not,” nicholas says immediately.
euijoo hums, looking between you two. “i think you’re both kind of dramatic.”
you gasp. “excuse you, i am extremely normal.”
that makes him laugh.
nicholas leans back with a small sigh. “i feel like i’m being outvoted in my own life right now.”
“you are,” you say simply.
“betrayed,” he mutters.
euijoo laughs again, shaking his head a little like he’s getting used to the dynamic already.
a little later, he looks at you again—still amused, still relaxed.
“do you always act like this?” he says casually, more like he’s just noticing a pattern than asking a question.
you pause mid-sip. “like what?”
he shrugs slightly. “just… relaxed. like you’re already comfortable.”
you grin. “should i be acting more nervous?”
“no,” he says almost immediately, like that wasn’t the point at all. then adds, a little lighter, “it’s just not what people usually do.”
nicholas listens quietly, watching you with a small smile.
you turn your head slightly. “what do people usually do?”
euijoo thinks for a second, then gestures loosely.
“overthink everything. try to be careful with what they say. stuff like that.”
you nod slowly. “yeah, that sounds exhausting.”
“it kind of is,” he admits.
you lean your chin in your hand, still smiling a little. “so what—i’m just not exhausting?”
nicholas lets out a quiet laugh beside you.
euijoo smiles, shaking his head slightly like the question doesn’t even really fit. “no, that’s not what i meant. you’re just easy to talk to.”
you brighten at that immediately. “good. because i don’t really know how to act differently anyway.”
nicholas glances at you. “yeah… that’s kind of the point.”
you look at him. “that sounds like an insult.”
“it’s not,” he says right away, way too fast to be convincing.
euijoo watches the two of you for a second like he’s just noticing how naturally this back-and-forth works between you, then leans back a little more comfortably in his chair.
“you two are kind of easy to be around,” he says instead, like it just slips out naturally rather than something he’s overthinking.
the words sit there for a second, simple and honest.
you smile a little. “i’ll take that as a good thing.”
“it is,” euijoo says easily.
nicholas doesn’t say anything right away, but his hand finds yours under the table like it’s automatic.
you don’t even look down at it anymore.
it’s just there.
part of the conversation.
the mood stays light after that.
you joke about still not trusting buildings with signs, euijoo casually says he’ll be your “official guide next time,” and you immediately go, “perfect, i need supervision,” like it’s a serious arrangement.
nicholas groans softly. “you’re enabling her.”
“i think she was already like this,” euijoo replies, amused.
“i was,” you confirm proudly.
nicholas looks betrayed. “why is everyone against me?”
“because you lost me in a hallway once,” you say.
“that was not—” he starts.
“it was,” you interrupt.
euijoo laughs again, properly this time, like he’s gotten used to the dynamic already.
then the conversation slows a little, softer now, like it naturally drifts.
euijoo glances between you and nicholas, a little more thoughtful this time.
“can i ask something?” he says casually.
you nod. “yeah, of course.”
he leans back slightly. “what’s it like for you… stepping into his world?”
you blink. “his world?”
“yeah,” euijoo says, still easy, not heavy. “like the idol side of things. schedules, attention, everything that comes with it. it’s not always simple for people around us.”
nicholas goes a little quieter beside you, not interrupting, just listening.
you think about it for a second, then shrug lightly.
“honestly?” you say. “it doesn’t really feel like i’m stepping into something separate.”
you lean back slightly, like it’s the most natural truth in the world to you. “well… i’m kind of dating him,” you say, softer now, but steady. “so it doesn’t really feel like i’m stepping into someone else’s world.” you pause for a second, then add gently, “it just feels like… i’m already where i’m supposed to be.”
that makes euijoo pause—not surprised, just reflective, like he’s sitting with your answer properly.
“yeah…” he says after a moment, nodding once. “i get that.”
nicholas looks at you then, quieter, like that answer settles something in him too.
the conversation slips back into something easy again after that, like it never paused at all.
eventually, time passes in that quiet way it does when you’re not really paying attention.
you only notice when you start finishing your drink.
you sit up a little. “oh—i should probably go soon.”
euijoo nods, standing up naturally. “yeah, i’ve got something after this too.”
you wave slightly. “thanks for meeting me, by the way.”
“i'm really glad i did,” euijoo says simply with a smile.
nicholas stands with you both.
when it’s time to actually leave, euijoo walks you to the door.
“next time,” he says casually, “you can pick a place that doesn’t require exploration.”
you gasp. “the exploration is part of the experience.”
he laughs. “i’ll remember that.”
you wave goodbye, still smiling to yourself.
and once you’re outside again with nicholas, the world feels normal again.
✧ a quiet walk home turns into something softer when feelings finally stop being hidden, and a simple question changes everything
✧ nicholas x fem!reader | fluff, romance, slice of life, mutual pining, first kiss | wc: 1,180
✧ author’s note: wait i can't stop writing nicho fluff LOL help (if you have requests pls send mee ahhh)
it starts like any other walk home.
the kind where your shoulders brush every now and then, and neither of you really says anything about it because it’s become normal now. comfortable. easy.
you’re talking a little more than usual today though—about something small, something you can’t even fully remember later, just laughing at your own words as you look up at him every few seconds to make sure he’s still listening.
and he is.
always is.
nicholas is looking at you like he likes hearing you talk. like he’s not just walking beside you, but actually there with you in every little thing you say.
you don’t notice when your steps slow down. or when his do too.
“you’re in a good mood,” he says eventually, voice soft, almost amused.
“i’m always in a good mood with you,” you reply without thinking.
it comes out so naturally that you don’t even realize what you said at first.
but he does.
he stops walking.
you blink. “what?”
he’s looking at you now—properly, fully—like he’s trying to figure out if you meant it the way it sounded.
and suddenly your heart feels way too aware of itself.
“…did i say something weird?” you ask, laughing a little, trying to cover the sudden nervousness blooming in your chest.
nicholas shakes his head slowly.
“no,” he says. but his voice is quieter now. “just honest.”
that makes you go a little shy, your fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your sweater.
“oh,” you say softly, looking away for a second. then, because you can’t stand silence for too long, you glance back up at him with a small smile. “well… it’s true.”
he exhales like that does something to him.
the air between you feels different now. not heavy—just closer. like the world narrowed down to the space between your shoulders.
“you always do that,” he says.
“do what?”
“say things like that… like you don’t realize what they sound like.”
you blink. “is that bad?”
a small smile appears on his face.
“no,” he says. “it’s just dangerous.”
that makes you laugh, a little flustered. “how is that dangerous?”
he doesn’t answer right away.
instead, he steps closer.
not fast. not sudden.
just enough that your laughter fades into something softer.
now you’re looking up at him properly, and he’s looking back at you like he’s decided something quietly.
your heart stumbles a little.
“nicholas?” you ask, quieter now.
“yeah?” he replies.
there’s a pause—small, but full.
then he lifts a hand, gently brushing a bit of hair away from your face like it’s the most natural thing in the world. his fingers linger for a second longer than necessary.
and you don’t move away.
“can i kiss you?” he asks softly.
your breath catches—but not in panic.
in something warm.
you nod before you even fully think about it.
“okay,” you say, small and honest and a little breathless.
that’s all it takes.
he leans in slowly, like he’s giving you time to change your mind even though you don’t want to. like he’s being careful with something he really doesn’t want to break.
the kiss is soft. gentle. a little unsure at first—but it settles quickly, like it was always supposed to feel this natural.
when he pulls back, it’s just enough to look at you again.
your face feels warm immediately, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he still is.
but instead of pulling away, you just smile.
a little bright. a little shy. a little too happy to hide.
“…hi,” you say softly, like you don’t know what else to say.
nicholas lets out a quiet laugh, relieved and fond all at once.
“hi,” he replies.
and then, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, he reaches for your hand.
✧ a quiet night, a soft confession, and two people who stop running from each other
✧ genre: fluff, romance, slice of life, mutual pining
✧ word count: 437
✧ author's note: my first fic, hope you enjoy it ♡
it starts with you pretending you’re not waiting for him.
you are—just a little. but you’re trying to act normal about it, scrolling your phone, sitting on the edge of your bed while the room glows softly in the evening light.
then your phone buzzes.
nicholas: i’m outside
your heart reacts faster than your brain does.
you don’t even fully process standing up before you’re moving to the door.
when you open it, he’s there—hands in his pockets, hair slightly messy from the wind, like he ran through the night just to get here a little faster. his eyes land on you and soften instantly, like you’re the only thing he was actually looking for.
“you didn’t have to come down,” he says, though he doesn’t move away.
“you literally said you were outside,” you reply.
he smiles at that—small, warm, like he’s trying not to show too much all at once.
“yeah,” he says. “i wanted to see you.”
there’s a pause. not awkward. just… full.
you step aside to let him in, but he doesn’t move right away. instead, he looks at you like he’s memorizing something he doesn’t want to forget.
“what?” you ask quietly.
“nothing,” he says, but it’s clearly not nothing.
he finally walks in, and the space feels different immediately—like the room got smaller in the best way.
you sit on the edge of your bed again, and he follows, sitting close enough that your shoulders almost touch. almost.
he glances at you. “you always sit like you’re ready to run away.”
“i do not.”
“you do,” he says, smiling. “like you’re scared of staying still too long.”
that hits closer than you expect.
you don’t answer right away.
nicholas shifts slightly, turning toward you more fully now. his voice lowers just a bit.
“you don’t have to run from me.”
your breath catches—quiet, subtle, but real.
you finally look at him properly, and he doesn’t look away. he never really does when it matters.
“i’m not running,” you say softly.
“good,” he replies. “because i’m not going anywhere.”
the words sit between you both like something warm settling in your chest.
a moment passes.
then his hand moves—slow, careful—until his fingers brush yours. not grabbing. just asking.
you let him.
and when he finally holds your hand properly, it feels like something that was always supposed to happen just… finally did.
he squeezes gently.
“you’re cold,” he murmurs, half-teasing.
“you’re distracting,” you reply.
that earns you a quiet laugh—soft, real, like it belongs only to this moment.
and for once, neither of you rush to fill the silence after that.
