just something sweet, for fun! (title from whiplash by 2hollis for... reasons) enjoy!
★ word count: 1.1k
you wish you were more coherent. if you were, you would commit this visual to memory; Nicholas between your thighs, pretty blonde hair like a halo in the warm lamplight of your bedroom. but it’s hard to be anything close to lucid when he keeps working his tongue against your clit like that.
he’s been at it for a while now; two fingers and his mouth coaxing you up to a near high that he rips away just as quick as he gets you there.
“oh my- fuck,” you whine when he pulls away again for the third time. your voice sounds strange to your own ears, desperate and breathy, but you don’t have the presence of mind to be embarrassed by it. you just know you feel like you might die if you don’t come and it’s all his fault.
“easy,” Nicholas chuckles against your inner thigh when your knee nearly hits his ear in your writhing. “you’re gonna knock me out like that.”
he has to brace his forearm over your hips to still you before lowering his head again to suckle at your swollen clit and lap up between your slick folds. combined with his fingers, he keeps you teetering on the edge just for his benefit; he wants to hear you beg. if there’s anything Nicholas loves, it’s hearing you beg. and he knows just how to get you there.
“baby- Nico, please please please,” you gasp when he gives a particularly harsh suck, bucking your hips and reaching down to hold his head in an attempt to keep him where you need it most.
He hums, the sound muffled by his position but when he pulls back to look at you, the expectation is obvious. he stills his fingers inside you and tilts his head.
“please, what?”
your brain takes a few beats to catch up but Nicholas’ gaze is like a direct spotlight commanding you to attention.
it feels like there’s something fizzy inside you, bubbling up. adoration. fondness. love. another person shouldn’t have this much control over you, should they?
you need a deep breath before you can answer. Nicholas watches you, patiently, his cheek against your inner thigh.
“please, fuck me…”
you may as well have just promised him the world. or at least, he smiles like you have; full and sweet.
“okay baby,” he presses one last kiss to your knee before standing and shrugging off his button up while his hands are busy undoing his belt “since you asked so nice.”
your stomach does a flip, half butterflies and half anticipation that makes your insides ache.
it can’t be more than a handful of seconds before Nicholas climbs back onto the bed, but you’re grabbing at him like your life depends on it as soon as he’s close enough, guiding his face to yours for a kiss.
“i'm right here.” he murmurs against your mouth while he spreads your thighs and settles between them, punctuating his words with a deeper kiss, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip before he pulls back.
you don’t look down but you can feel the contact his tip makes with your folds, both of you gasping as he presses against your entrance and slides right in. there’s only the slightest stretch after he warmed you up so well with his tongue and fingers, but it’s a pain you’ve come to crave.
being filled by Nicholas feels like becoming whole.
“so good” Nicholas sighs, snapping you out of your reverie and back into the moment when he starts moving his hips in slow thrusts.
he’s braced above you, chains dangling between your bodies, pendants faintly grazing your chin when he pulls back just enough to look down at your face.
his brows are drawn together, eyes searching your expression for any hint of discomfort but you moan and cling onto his back, conveying your pleasure with the way your walls squeeze down around him every time he bottoms out.
if it were up to you, you’d lock him in forever. you tell him so with your fingertips digging into his back, “yea- so good- want you, want you like this forever. don’t stop, mmh, please.”
Nicholas groans against your temple, panting as his pace becomes more urgent. you know he loves to hear how good he makes you feel, how much you want him.
in return, you get one of his hands under your knee, hiking your thigh higher and spreading you open for a deeper fuck. it makes your breath hitch when he hits that spot inside you, all his previous teasing leading up to this; sweet pressure spreading into the beginnings of an orgasm. you shut your eyes to the feeling, his thrusts driving in harder and making obscene noises where skin meets skin.
“gonna come for me?” he asks and you nod dumbly before you even register his question but once you do, it’s with more conviction. like you would say yes to anything in this moment.
“look at me when you do.”
your vision is bleary when you open your eyes but it only makes Nicholas look that much more beautiful above you, cast in a warm glow and pleasure painted on his face.
that’s all it takes; as if by his command, your orgasm unravels. it’s sudden and overwhelming and you know you’d thrash if his weight wasn’t holding you down, pinning your hips with own. you make a noise somewhere between a whimper and a gasp and your thighs tremble through it.
“that’s it, there you go…” Nicholas sighs, voice at once strained and tender. he keeps still for your benefit, just little grinds of his base against your clit that have you jolting under him.
and this is the part you like the best after coming; when your mind finally clears and the pleasure has simmered, you watch him fall apart for you in return.
it doesn’t take much longer, his restraint worn thin until all he needs is a few tight strokes before coming inside you with a whine. he’s so pretty and it feels so good, you can’t help the giggle that slips out. thankfully, he knows you well enough to let it slide despite your current position.
Nicholas sinks into your embrace, humming against your ear with the effort it takes to not crush you.
“what’s so funny?” he grumbles, braced on his forearms and nuzzling at your shoulder.
“not funny” you sigh, and trace a finger down his spine. “just happy, that’s all.”
here is the continuation to this. it's been sitting in my drafts for months because it isn't complete (aka the smut is missing) but i thought i should post it anyway and attempt to finish the last part this month. thank you for reading!
★ best friend!Euijoo x afab!reader
★ content: nothing spicy... yet!
★ word count: 1.2k
you’re avoiding Euijoo.
the first week you guys didn’t speak, he tried not to let it eat at him because he knew you were busy with work. so he locked the anxiety up the best he could and focused on his own work.
the second week, though, he could no longer ignore it; something was up.
usually, if it really was just work keeping you away, you would’ve at least been playing text tag by this time and planning to get together in the near future. instead your message thread ran dry and so he knew it was something more.
in your friendship, you didn’t like to submit to the rules of text message politics; you double, triple, quadruple text without shame. if you had something to say, Euijoo would be the first to know.
now you’re radio silent and he knows it’s his fault.
of course the stunt he pulled in your kitchen would have consequences.
it figures the one time he intentionally tried to broach past the fine line of friendship between you two, he messed it all up.
what kind of asshole would put you in such a vulnerable position and then try to play it off as a joke out of sheer panic? - he would, that’s who.
these are the kind of thoughts he's had over and over for the past two weeks; half feeling sorry for himself and half feeling sorry for putting you in such an awkward and uncomfortable position.
he’s supposed to be your best friend.
meanwhile, on your end, you have a similar thought:
he’s supposed to be your best friend.
and yet… you keep fantasizing about him.
you find yourself daydreaming in the middle of the afternoon, thinking about where his hands touched your waist. how his breath felt on your ear. his actual thigh between your legs.
your imagination has the benefit of sobriety for those moments, no alcohol dampening your memories the way your recollection of that other night is.
now every time you think about how he touched you, your brain takes it a step further and the images were not for the faint of heart.
all this has made it harder to fall back into normalcy with him - how can you possibly face him in real life when even just the sight of his contact photo in your pinned messages now made your stomach drop?
not to mention the fact that, on principle, you hadn’t actually acted on any of the spank bank material he had given you. everyday that passed had you feeling more and more tightly wound.
you’re sitting at your work desk, bordering on delirious, when the silence is finally broken and a string of messages comes through quickly, one after the other.
juju: hey! hope work hasn’t killed u lol jk
juju: i mean not jk that i do hope it killed you i mean jk that it could kill u
juju: i think u can handle it hahaha
juju: anyway are u going to fuma’s thing on friday?
you can’t help but smile at the messages, their casual nature somewhat easing your nerves about how long it’s been since you two had talked. maybe things could go back to normal (if your hormones let them)?
the three dots that indicate Euijoo is still typing linger at the bottom of your screen for a moment before disappearing.
you take that as your queue to respond, typing out a tentative ‘heyyy’ before overthinking your use of excess Y’s and settling for a simple:
you: hi! lol i think so
Fuma was one of Euijoo’s friends turned mutual friend because that’s how interconnected your lives were; you two were a packaged deal and so his friends became yours just like yours became his.
you had initially hesitated to accept the invite when Fuma had texted you but going over to his place for movie nights was always fun and you didn’t want to pass on it just because you were scared of how badly you wanted to fuck your best friend. it was a group hang out anyway and that meant you wouldn’t be left alone with Euijoo and possibly allowed to make a grave mistake.
juju: cool!
juju: carpool?
shit.
you hadn’t considered the fact that being inside a car with Euijoo was as alone as you could get without being in a room together.
some of your most intense conversations had happened while you were sat in the passenger seat of his car - the time you told him about losing your virginity, when he told you he lost his, the breakdown you had when you broke up with your first boyfriend; all those moments had happened there.
what if you word vomited and told him about how you’d been feeling?
what if you fucked it all up for good?
you could not get in that car with him. not now. not in the near future. not when you had so many feelings to sort out.
you: oh i need to work late that day :/
you: i’ll just go from work and see you there!
there.
a completely normal, believable, and safe excuse.
his reply only comes in the form of a thumbs up emoji and you put your phone away to finally put aside your daydreams and get some work done.
-
it feels karmic, like the universe is actively out to ruin your life; you’re convinced this shit could only happen to you.
“come on, come onnn…” you cry out before finally giving up on turning the ignition and slumping back into the seat. in place of the rumble of the engine of your car starting, there has only been a click when you turn the key.
it figures the one day you actually need to drive yourself somewhere, your car decides to die.
you don’t even entertain the idea of popping the hood to check what’s going on down there. instead, while scrolling through the search results listed under ‘car making weird click noise’, you consider calling your dad.
the consideration lasts a solid 10 seconds. an hour long lecture on adulthood and responsibility wouldn’t be worth the help.
no, you only have one viable option and you know it.
Euijoo picks up on the third ring and sounds slightly out of breath through the speaker.
“hey, what’s up? is everything okay? you’re still coming right?”
you try to ignore how his voice makes heat build in your belly.
“hi, yeah, are you there already?” you ask, unsure what response you’re hoping for.
“no, i just got out of the shower, actually.” Euijoo’s answer is paired with the sound of rustling and you can only assume it’s because he’s getting dressed.
you feel very normal about that fact.
“oh, do you think we could carpool then?”
“of course,” his voice comes through clearly, finally “i’m leaving right now so i can pick you up from the office in thirty minutes”.
damn, you had completely forgotten about your little excuse.
“oh, i’m actually home.” you don’t elaborate further but it’s okay because Euijoo just chuckles through the speaker.
my first request completed! thank you to the kind anon that sent it in! i got such a vivid image from the prompt that it sent me into a spiral and now i'm toying with the idea of a continuation? idk
update: part 2 here!
★ best friend!Euijoo x afab!reader
★ content: some heavy? petting. no kissing. (sorry! but stay tuned) a bit of crude language but mostly sfw.
★ word count: 1.1k
you’ve heard it your whole life: you’re a handful. a lot. even too much on a few occasions. still, you never seemed to let comments like that get to you or dim your glow.
Euijoo has never had the courage to say it to your face, but that’s one of his favorite things about you. it’s what drew him to you in the first place; like a moth to a flame. you were bright and loud and unapologetic about it.
in turn, your friendship was proof that opposites attract: where you were boisterous and bright - he was quiet and collected. the contrast was stark but somehow you both made it work, striking a balance where you helped him overcome his timid nature and he brought you back down to earth when necessary.
still, there are times when the difference can’t help but chafe on him.
being your best friend meant falling into pace with your shadow and, that, he was fine with. it was hearing you go on about your dates and other guys in general that he found hard to stomach; of course he wasn’t the only one seeking out some of your light. it was just his luck that being so close to you meant he was seemingly out of view where romance was involved (there was one time a few months ago that made him think, maybe things were shifting, but nothing came of it).
as your best friend, it was basically Euijoo’s job to sit and listen to you rehash every painfully explicit detail of your latest sexual escapade. an open book policy with your friends was probably healthy; honesty is something to commend.
right now he doesn’t think he's ever wished so badly that you would just shut up.
“i don’t even know what he was doing with his fingers but it hurt, and he definitely had no idea where my clit was. i swear, it was the longest two minutes of my life.”
you’ve already given him the run down of your date last night, with full blown position examples, that made him laugh so much he was worried his face was permanently red.
“it was just weird, you know? and not hot weird. like, i can do hot weird, it was just bad,” you sigh, so deep into your own train of thought you don’t notice the pained expression on his face, even as you mildly acknowledge his presence.
“at this point i’m just convinced i’m supposed to marry you. no other guy is gonna cut it.”
and with that, as if you haven’t just turned his entire world on its axis, you stand up from the couch and walk to the kitchen to answer your phone.
the blood was rushing so loudly in his ears, he didn't even hear the damn thing ring.
“wait, what?” he calls out, shifting on the couch to look toward the room you’ve just stepped through. no answer comes. you’re too busy with whoever is on the other line. based on the words he can make out, he knows it’s a work call.
he could take it in stride; that’s what he usually does when you tease him. always a good sport. always a good friend.
more and more, he realizes, that’s not enough.
your back is to him when he steps into the kitchen. his touch on your shoulder is gentle, guiding you toward him just so he can grab the phone where it’s pressed to your ear and you don’t even have the impulse to stop him; that’s how caught off guard you are.
“hey what the he-” you don’t get to finish your sentence. it’s like the connection from your brain to your mouth has been severed; you’re speechless because Euijoo, your sweet, careful, painfully gentle Euijoo is crowding you back against the kitchen counter.
“what did you say?”
he leans over you and braces both palms against the counter, effectively trapping you where you stand. “hm?”
“what are you talking about?” your eyes are wide, pupils flickering minutely between meeting his gaze and looking at his lips.
“what did you just say back there?”
“about the fingering? i-“
“no,” he sighs, looking up and willing the patience he’s so proud of to stay with him. “not about- that, about me.”
your stare goes blank but he knows you're processing. he’s kind enough to give you a minute to catch up.
“...about marrying you? i was just kidding.” it stings to hear like that but he doesn't dwell on it too much, there’s another task at hand.
“and about other guys not cutting it?” he tilts his head and you swallow hard, suddenly nervous about how close he is. you may be best friends but there’s always been a carefully calculated spatial distance between you two. the last time you broached it was one night a few months ago. one night you've been trying (and failing) to forget about.
“i guess, i wouldn’t know… if you could cut it or not…” you decide to play it safe, hoping he’ll back up and things can go back to normal, whatever normal can be at this point. “oh, come on juju.” you tag on the nickname you use when you’re doing the worst of your teasing because you know it always makes him crack a smile but he remains stone faced.
“i think you do, though.” he counters, playing it safe suddenly out of the question for Euijoo.
he doesn't know exactly where the confidence has come from, but after listening to hours of your complaints about just how bad other guys are, he has a vague idea; he could do better.
his hands move off the counter and find your hips, sliding up until they rest at your waist, fingertips brushing against your skin where your shirt has ridden up.
“i can remind you. if you want?”
it’s an offer but it might as well be an order; you can’t refuse.
“okay…” you finally whisper, not trusting your voice when his hands are on you.
“okay?” he presses on, pulling you forward until your body is flush against his, the muscle of his thigh slotting right between your legs so you know it’s deliberate. as if on instinct, you grind forward and gasp; both from the sensation and the realization of what you’ve done.
his expression shifts, a smirk forming on his lips; he has you right where he wants you. it’s not often he gets to see you this flustered, especially not by something he’s done. he’s committing the sight to memory.
“Euijoo…” you whine and the sound is almost enough to make him crumble right then and there but he fights against the urge.
instead he dips his head and presses his lips to your ear.
“just kidding.”
it takes a second but he’s ready for the shove you give his chest, moving easily with the motion. his hands drop to his sides as he steps back and you both stare at each other for a moment before finally laughing.
★ content: unprotected sex, creampie (for my first post? wow) and probably bad grammar and poor formatting idk this isn't properly edited and it's my first time posting i'll figure it out later (title taken from the song lucky by raveena) feedback is appreciated!
★ word count: 2.1k
you met Nicholas the way most people these days meet their significant others: online, kind of.
not a dating app, no, that would have been impossible. the way girls (and guys alike) would have flooded his likes, there's no way you would have stood a chance at getting noticed.
still, online; your first impression of him was through his instagram page that you came across on a night of looking through your friends following lists to update yourself on who and who had broken up. you were prone to snooping, what can you say?
on his instagram (username wenoyixiang) there was a single selfie, posted with no caption, and a considerable amount of likes and heart eye emojis in the comments. he was gorgeous and obviously cool and nonchalant. the collection of your friend’s usernames announcing that they followed him made it tempting to turn the blue button grey but you strategically withheld.
some might call it internet stalking but after meeting him, you’d call it gravity. both of you, orbiting each other in mutual and close friend circles; people you may know notifications. it was only a matter of time until you met in real life. actually, it was all manifestation on your part (which here means obsessively staring at his one selfie for prolonged periods of time while imagining an elaborately curated life together, and showing up to every mutual friend hang out you possibly could of course).
and then, finally, the night you actually met at a party. sure, years of procrastination culminating into a firm belief that you only worked best under pressure might have had some influence on you. the pressure here was Nicholas’ smile and his laugh that commanded you to be the funniest, wittiest, and brightest person in the room; if only to direct his attention towards you. whatever it was, you had the opposite of performance anxiety, turning into someone much more outgoing than you typically were, that night.
somehow it worked and he asked for your number in the kitchen once the party was winding down.
the rest is history (well documented in your diary and notes app).
-
“hi baby,” Nicholas whispers in your ear as he comes up behind you and breaks you away from your reminiscing with a start. your jolt makes him giggle and you smile at the sound, turning your face to be met with a kiss on your lips.
“daydreaming about me?” he raises his eyebrows suggestively.
“yes, actually.” you admit easily, turning to face him fully so you can appreciate how his expression turns bashful and steal the solo cup from his hand to take a drink of whatever he just filled it with. whatever it is, it’s strong and you grimace as you hand it back.
“a dirty daydream, very hot.” you cough on the tail end of the sentence and Nicholas laughs, loud and unrestrained and you know the warmth in your stomach isn’t just the alcohol.
“easy tiger.” he teases, taking his own gulp of the drink with only relative ease before he lowers his head to whisper in your ear once more, “or we can make that daydream real.”
the heat in your stomach becomes something heavier, making its way down and you fight the urge to let your eyes roll back at just the sensation of his warm breath on your neck.
your actual thoughts hadn't even been naughty and yet somehow, your boyfriend was able to get you from 0 to 100 in .02 seconds. it really wasn’t fair.
you didn’t want to be that annoying couple that stopped hanging out with their friends and ditched parties just to be alone together. but Nicholas made it really hard not to be.
oh well! (you weren't that torn up about it when it came down to it)
your hand finds the crook of his elbow and before you even have a fully formed plan, you’re pulling him down the hallway. thankfully, the party is crowded enough that your absence won't be noticed right away.
“whoa, you’re in a hurry.” Nicholas laughs and the sound of the music fades more the further from the living room you get.
“your fault.” you call back, only glancing over your shoulder when you reach the bathroom door, thanking whatever miracle left it unoccupied as if for this very moment.
he laughs again as you pull him in with the same urgency you’d use to enter a bomb shelter.
the lock of the door clicks into place and then your lips are on his and the party and whatever was left in his cup become only an afterthought as he drops it into the sink in favor of gripping your hips and hiking you onto the counter. your thighs spread like second nature to accommodate him between them; it’s wordless and easy.
from the beginning every interaction has felt like this - Nicholas moves and so do you. push and pull so natural like your orbit never stopped, you just came in closer. (he’s your planet and you’re his moon or vice versa.)
your tongue glides over his bottom lip and his mouth opens against yours in silent invitation, moans rumbling in both of your throats the second the slick muscle of his tongue meets yours. every kiss is so hot, it feels like melting into each other; the line where you start and he begins becoming molten until you have to pull away for a deep breath and for your own sanity.
“fuck…” he mumbles between pants and you can hear his movements but your eyes stay closed for another second to let you reconfigure your thoughts. when you finally blink your eyes open, his are looking downward to where his hands are working, opening his belt.
it takes a second for you to realize you should be moving too but after a kiss like that, it’s hard for the synapses in your brain to function properly.
“what happened to being in a hurry?” Nicholas asks, noticing your stillness, his belt and the buttons of his jeans undone. his hands find your thighs and give a squeeze.
“sorry, i got dizzy” you finally answer, meeting his eyes and seeing the concern that washes over his face.
“you okay?” he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, your face instantly leaning into his palm and a smile pulling at the corner of your lips.
“i’m good. you’re just so hot, it makes me dizzy.” you giggle and it’s a little mean to play against the soft spot Nicholas has for you; the way he'd turn the world upside down to make sure you’re okay, but you like to keep him on his toes.
the concern on his face turns to obvious relief and then he’s laughing too, nose scrunched when he leans in to bury his face in your neck.
“scared me.” he whines, muffled and warm against your skin, and the sensation reanimates your desire. you tilt your head back and let your hands find the hem of your skirt, thankful for the ease with which you hike it up onto your hips. you slide your panties to the side for good measure and you’d be embarrassed by how wet you are in any other situation but right now you’re just glad your brain can keep up with your body's urges.
“sorry baby,” you sigh and the way he turns his head toward you lets you know he caught the shift in your tone. “let me make it up to you.”
Nicholas straightens and looks down to where you sit on the counter, bare and offered to him on a silver platter. if it were up to him he would sink to his knees and bury his mouth between your thighs until you had to physically pry him off.
the sounds of the world outside the door remind him that it is, in fact, not up to him.
still, a quickie isn’t a bad consolation prize.
“you’ll need to make it up to me again, later, by the way.” he sighs for dramatic effect, already shoving his jeans and underwear down just enough to grip his length in hand, giving it a squeeze while his other hand holds your hip.
“i can do that.” you mean it but your voice waivers a bit, mouth gone dry and the promise of being filled by him topping the hierarchy of any other need you could possibly have. your hips wiggle forward a bit and Nicholas would tease you for your desperation if his own didn’t have his cock leaking onto his fist.
“Nico, please..”
he has to move quickly so he doesn't come at the sound of you begging for him, sliding his tip through your slick folds just for a beat before pressing to your entrance and stretching you out when he pushes in.
“okay, baby… remember, breathe.” his voice is tight with restraint you know is for your benefit.
you’re wet enough that the slide is easy but sex with Nicholas usually takes place at his apartment and comes with at least three fingers worth of preparation before he’s inside you. this stretch is broaching on new territory.
lucky for you, your horniness knows no bounds.
you take a deep breath, half for show, and brace your hands on his shoulders.
“Nico, move. i’m good, i’ll be good.” you don’t sound half as good you claim to be, already breathless despite him just staying still inside you but it’s only because you need him to fuck you so bad you think you’ll pass out if he waits another second.
and because he’s your Nico, and he knows you, he gives you what you want.
his first few thrusts are still tentative, eyes trained so firmly on your face to watch for any lapse in your expression. but soon enough he’s building a quick rhythm, each movement pushing soft grunts from his throat as his hips pull back and push forward to meet yours.
“oh fuck- mmmh- you feel so good” he murmurs, breathy voice an impossible octave lower than his usual timbre and the praise feels like electricity going straight down your spine. any discomfort you felt at first has melted away, in its place a sweet pressure you recognize as the beginnings of an orgasm.
“mm yeah- like that..” your voice hitches with every movement, the moans you can’t hold back slipping out and cut short by your inhales every time he bottoms out and hits that spot that makes your insides turn to jelly. your hands drop down from his shoulders to his waist, sneaking under his shirt just to feel his warm skin under your palms, as if you could will him closer with the contact.
Nicholas circles one arm around your back like he's read your mind, hugging your body to his while hooking his other hand under the bottom of your thigh and hiking it up against your side so he can drive his cock in deeper. his face nuzzles against your cheek, lips pressing hot, open mouthed kisses anywhere he can reach while he fucks you stupid.
“oh my god…” your eyes roll back into your head, on the cusp of climax.
it may be your lack of experience in general or maybe your boyfriend has a hold on you so deep psychologically, that he’s found a way to pavlov you into orgasm with a magic word. you don’t know and, honestly, you don’t care. all you know is when Nicholas moans out an i love you against your skin, your whole body goes rigid and you come with a gasp.
the pleasure makes you see stars and galaxies, clutching onto Nicholas your only grounding tether.
your back arches until your head presses against the mirror behind your head, body writhing against Nicholas while he fucks you through your orgasm. it only takes a couple more thrusts into your pulsing walls until his pace goes sloppy and he finds his own release inside you.
the mess between your legs will be something you deal with later.
for now, you cup his jaw and guide his lips to yours, the kiss slow and lazy in comparison to the urgency you shared when you first entered the bathroom. it feels like hours, time slows like honey now that you’re both sated. finally, you pull back to get a good look at his flushed face. he’s the prettiest you’ve ever seen him, lips kiss bitten and eyes dark.
“i-”
you want to say i love you back but you no longer have the time for that. a voice cuts through from behind the door and abruptly clears the fucked out haze between you two.
“you guys are fucking gross by the way!” you recognize Yudai even if his voice is muffled. Nicholas hides his face against your shoulder and groans. he’s never gonna live this one down.
you can’t help the loud laugh that you let out, his hand coming up to cover your mouth a second too late.
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