your roommate walks in on you masturbating… whoops?
pairing: dom!nicholas x sub!reader || wc: 3k || cw: smut! kissing, making out, masturbation, use of toys, accidental walk-in, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec.), p in v, unprotected sex (don't.), creampie, multiple orgasms, cum play(?), light spanking, dirty talk, use of petnames, strong language || warnings: +18 content, mdni! || a/n: i missed writing for &team and mr yixiang has been looking extra fine lately
nicholas and you have been sharing a house for almost eight months now. and, against all odds, the arrangement works surprisingly well. the two of you clicked from the very first viewing — easy conversation, shared playlists, similar senses of humor that turn late-night kitchen talks into laughing fits over nothing. he’s respectful, funny, and surprisingly tidy for a guy in his mid-twenties. you cook together sometimes, argue over which reality show is the most unhinged, and split groceries without keeping score. it feels like a genuine friendship, comfortable and low-pressure.
you find him attractive, sure. tall, sharp jawline, dark hair that falls into his eyes when he laughs, and that quiet confidence that makes him effortlessly magnetic. but that’s it. no butterflies, no crush, no romantic feelings. just pure physical appreciation. you’ve caught him staring more than once — eyes lingering on your cleavage when you wear loose tank tops around the apartment, or dropping to your ass when you bend over to grab something from the fridge. he always looks away quickly, cheeks faintly pink, and you pretend not to notice.
it’s harmless. mutual, even.
what isn’t harmless is how unbearably horny you’ve been lately.
it’s been months since you last had sex. your last situationship ended messily, and between work stress and just not wanting to deal with dating apps, you’ve been in a long dry spell. your vibrator has been working overtime, but it’s not the same as being touched by someone else — skin on skin, weight pressing you down, hands that aren’t your own. the ache has been building for weeks, a constant low hum under your skin that makes you restless.
nicholas mentioned that morning he’d be gone most of the afternoon — some errands across town, then meeting a friend. you waved him off with a smile, already mentally planning your solo session. the second the front door clicked shut, you let out a long breath. the apartment was finally yours.
you start slow and indulgent. you run a warm bath, adding your favorite lavender-scented bubbles. you light a couple of candles on the bathroom counter and dim the lights, soft r&b playing from your phone speaker. you soak for nearly forty minutes, letting the hot water loosen every tight muscle. your fingers trail lazily over your body under the water — circling your nipples, sliding down your stomach, teasing between your thighs without rushing. by the time you step out, your skin is flushed and your core is already throbbing with need.
wrapped in just a towel, you move to your bedroom. the leds are set to a deep red-purple glow, casting everything in a sultry light. you put on a slow playlist — the weeknd, sza, daniel caesar — and let the music fill the room. you drop the towel and climb onto your bed, completely naked, pillows arranged behind you so you can recline comfortably.
your hands start exploring immediately. you cup your breasts, squeezing gently, rolling your nipples between your fingers until they pebble. a soft sigh escapes you. “fuck, i needed this,” you murmur to yourself. one hand slides lower, tracing your inner thighs before dipping between your legs. you’re already wet, slick coating your fingers as you spread it over your clit.
you circle slowly at first, teasing, building it up. your hips twitch. “mmh… yes…” the words slip out naturally. you’ve been alone long enough that you don’t hold back anymore. you push two fingers inside yourself, curling them, pumping steadily while your other hand keeps working your clit. the wet sounds mix with the music. your breathing grows heavier, moans rising freely.
“god, i’m so fucking horny,” you whisper, voice breathy. “i need to cum so bad…”
you pick up the pace, fingers thrusting faster. your back arches off the bed. the first orgasm hits you hard after a few minutes — sudden and intense, thighs shaking as you ride your hand through it. you cry out, loud and unrestrained, “fuck— yes, right there— oh my god…”
you don’t stop. you keep going, drawing it out, then switch to your vibrator. it’s a strong one, the kind with multiple settings. your best friend was the one who bought it for you, "just in case a man disappoint you!" she said.
you click it on medium and press the buzzing head directly against your swollen clit. your whole body jolts.
“shit— too much,” you gasp, but you don’t pull it away. instead you spread your legs wider, knees bent, giving yourself full access. the vibrations send sharp pleasure shooting through you. you push the toy lower, sliding it along your folds before pressing it inside just a little, then back to your clit. your moans get louder, shameless.
“fuck… i wish someone was here to fuck me properly,” you pant, talking to the empty room. “need a cock so bad… been so empty for months…”
the second orgasm builds faster. your free hand pinches your nipple hard. the vibrator hums relentlessly. you’re writhing on the sheets now, hips grinding against the toy.
“i’m gonna cum again— fuck, i’m cumming—!” your voice breaks into a loud, drawn-out moan as the second climax crashes over you, even stronger than the first. your legs tremble violently, pussy clenching and gushing. you keep the vibrator pressed there through the aftershocks, riding every wave until it becomes too sensitive and you finally switch it off with a shaky hand.
you lie there panting, chest heaving, a blissed-out smile on your face. the room smells like candles and sex. your body feels loose and satisfied for the first time in weeks. you close your eyes, letting the music wash over you, completely unaware of the front door opening.
nicholas had come back earlier than expected. traffic was lighter than he thought. he stepped inside quietly, kicking off his shoes, and heard the music coming from your room. then he heard the moans.
at first he froze, thinking maybe you were watching something. but the sounds were raw, real. your voice — loud, needy, saying things that made heat rush straight to his groin. he stood in the hallway for a minute, conflicted, but when another loud cry echoed and then suddenly cut off, worry spiked. what if something was wrong? you sounded like you were in pain… or something like that.
he knocked softly. no answer.
he knocked again. “hey… are you okay in there?”
still nothing. the music was still playing, but no response. genuine concern took over. he turned the handle slowly and pushed the door open.
the sight that greeted him stopped him dead.
you sprawled on your bed, naked, legs still slightly spread, skin glistening with sweat, vibrator lying beside your thigh, your fingers shiny with your own arousal. your eyes fly open at the sound of the door and lock onto him in pure horror.
“oh my god—!” you scramble desperately, yanking the comforter over your body, face burning crimson. “nico! what the fuck— get out! oh my god, i— i didn’t hear you—”
you’re mortified, pulling the blanket all the way up to your chin, heart hammering so hard you feel dizzy. this is your housemate. your friend. the guy who makes you laugh over burnt toast. and he just saw you like this — legs open, mid-afterglow, talking filth to yourself.
nicholas stands there for a second, eyes wide, but then his expression shifts. the initial shock melts into something darker, amused. a slow, low laugh rumbles out of his chest.
he doesn’t leave. he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, that familiar smirk playing on his lips.
“damn,” he says, voice a little rough. “if you needed it that bad, you could’ve just asked for my help, you know.”
your brain short-circuits. you stare at him, mouth open, cheeks impossibly hotter. “i— what?”
he steps inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. his eyes rake over the blanket-covered shape of you, lingering like they have so many times before — only this time there’s no pretense.
“i’ve been trying not to stare too obviously,” he admits, still chuckling softly, but there’s heat in his gaze now. “but fuck… hearing you moan like that? saying you need cock? baby, i’ve been hard for you for months every time you walk around in those tiny shorts.”
you’re still flustered beyond words, clutching the blanket like a shield, but his words send a fresh wave of arousal through your oversensitive body. the embarrassment mixes with something else — excitement.
nicholas tilts his head, watching you with dark, hungry eyes. “so… are you gonna kick me out? or do you want me to help you with that problem you were complaining about?”
the air in the room feels thick. your dry spell, the way he’s looking at you, the fact that he just watched you fall apart twice… everything crashes together.
you bite your lip, heart racing, and slowly loosen your grip on the blanket just a little.
“close the door properly,” you whisper, voice shaky but certain.
nicholas’s smirk widens. he locks the door for some reason — it's not like someone else could come inside, given that only you two live there, right? you snort. your laugh dies when you see him pull his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, revealing the toned body you’ve only ever glimpsed before.
“good choice,” he murmurs, crawling onto the bed toward you. “now let me take care of you properly this time.”
you swallow hard, heart pounding against your ribs as nicholas crawls onto the bed, shirtless, muscles shifting under smooth skin. the comforter is still clutched to your chest like a lifeline, but your body is already betraying you — nipples tight, core clenching at the sight of him. he looks at you with that lazy, knowing smirk, eyes dark with want.
“you don’t have to hide anymore,” he murmurs, voice low and warm. one hand gently tugs at the edge of the blanket. “i already saw everything. and fuck, you looked so good falling apart like that.”
your face burns, but the embarrassment is fading fast, replaced by pure need. months of frustration bubble up. you let the blanket slip down slowly, exposing your breasts, then your stomach, until it pools around your waist. nicholas’s gaze drops immediately, hungry.
“beautiful,” he breathes. he reaches out, palm skimming up your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. you shiver. “been thinking about these for weeks every time you walk around without a bra.”
you let out a shaky laugh. “pervert.”
“guilty.” he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. then another lower, lips closing around your nipple. the wet heat of his mouth makes you moan instantly. he sucks gently, tongue flicking, while his hand squeezes the other breast. your fingers thread into his dark hair, holding him there.
“nico… fuck,” you whisper. it feels different when it’s someone else’s mouth. better.
he moves lower, kissing down your stomach, hands spreading your thighs wide. you’re still slick from your earlier orgasms, pussy glistening. nicholas groans at the sight.
“so wet already. all that from your toys?” he teases, breath hot against your inner thigh. “let me taste how desperate you’ve been.”
he doesn’t wait for an answer. his tongue drags slowly up your slit, licking up your arousal. your back arches hard, a loud moan tearing from your throat. he chuckles against you, the vibration sending sparks through your body.
“be loud again,” he murmurs approvingly. “don’t hold back. i wanna hear everything.”
nicholas eats you out like he’s starving. his tongue circles your clit with perfect pressure, then dips inside you, fucking you with it in shallow thrusts. two fingers slide in easily, curling against that spot that makes your toes curl. you’re loud — shamelessly loud — moaning his name, hips grinding against his face.
“yes— right there, oh god— nico, your tongue feels so good,” you babble, head thrown back. he sucks your clit into his mouth and hums, fingers pumping faster. the wet, obscene sounds fill the room alongside your cries.
your third orgasm hits fast and hard. thighs clamping around his head, you shake and gush against his tongue, moaning brokenly. he keeps licking you through it, gentler now, until you push at his shoulders, oversensitive.
he sits up, lips shiny with you, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. his sweats are tented obscenely. you reach for him, palming his cock through the fabric.
“i want you,” you say, voice hoarse. “been needing a real cock for so long.”
nicholas groans, pushing his sweats and boxers down in one motion. his dick springs free — thick, long, flushed dark at the tip and already leaking. you wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly. he’s heavy and hot in your palm.
“careful,” he warns, hips twitching. “i’ve been hard since i walked in and heard you moaning about needing to be fucked.”
you stroke him faster, thumb swirling over the head. “then fuck me already.”
he flips you onto your back, settling between your spread legs. the head of his cock nudges your entrance, sliding through your wetness. he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you open. you both moan loudly at the feeling.
“so fucking tight,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “been saving this pussy for me?”
“shut up,” you gasp, but your walls flutter around him. when he bottoms out, hips flush against yours, the fullness is overwhelming. perfect.
nicholas starts moving — deep, steady thrusts that make your bed creak. he leans down, kissing you messily, tongues sliding together as he fucks you. one hand pins your wrist above your head, the other grips your hip, pulling you into every stroke.
“feel so good,” he groans against your mouth. “better than i imagined. so warm and wet for me.”
you wrap your legs around his waist, heels digging into his back. the angle lets him hit deeper, grinding against your g-spot with every thrust. your moans mix with his — raw, needy sounds that echo in the bedroom.
he picks up the pace, pounding into you harder. skin slaps against skin. your breasts bounce with every thrust and he leans down to suck marks into them.
“cum on my cock,” he demands, voice rough. “let me feel you.”
you do — loudly. the fourth orgasm rips through you, pussy clenching rhythmically around him. nicholas curses, fucking you through it, then pulls out suddenly. he strokes himself fast, spilling hot ropes of cum across your stomach and tits with a deep groan.
you both pant, catching your breath. he collapses beside you for a moment, then reaches for tissues on your nightstand, cleaning you up gently.
“that was just round one,” he says with a wicked grin, tossing the tissues aside. “you’ve been horny for months. i’m not letting you leave this bed until you’re satisfied.”
you laugh breathlessly. “bold of you.”
but you discover pretty quicly he really means it.
he pulls you on top of him next, hands guiding your hips as you sink down onto his cock again. you ride him slow at first, grinding in circles, hands braced on his chest. nicholas watches you with hooded eyes, thumbs stroking your nipples.
“fuck, look at you,” he murmurs. “so pretty bouncing on my dick.”
you pick up speed, slamming down harder. he meets you with upward thrusts, hitting deep. your moans turn into cries again. he sits up suddenly, wrapping his arms around you, mouth latching onto your neck as you ride him. the new position presses your clit against his pelvis with every roll of your hips.
you cum again like that, shaking in his arms. he flips you onto all fours after, gripping your hips and fucking you from behind. his hand reaches around to rub your clit while he pounds into you, relentless.
“say it again,” he growls, spanking your ass lightly. “tell me what you were moaning earlier.”
“need your cock— fuck, nico, harder— i've been so empty,” you sob into the pillow, pushing back against him.
he gives you what you want, hips snapping fast. the bed shakes. another orgasm tears through you, and this time he follows, burying himself deep and filling you with cum.
you collapse together, sweaty and spent. nicholas pulls you against his chest, arms wrapped around you. his fingers trace lazy patterns on your back.
“you okay?” he asks softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. the dominant heat from earlier fades into gentle care.
“more than okay,” you mumble, smiling against his skin. “that was… exactly what i needed.”
he chuckles. “good. because this doesn’t have to be a one-time thing. whenever you’re horny and i’m home… door’s open. literally.”
you snort, lightly slapping his chest. “housemates with benefits?”
“something like that.” he tilts your chin up, kissing you slow and deep. “no pressure, no strings. just… helping each other out when we need it.”
you nod, already feeling the low thrum of arousal returning as his hand slides down to cup your ass. the afternoon stretches long. he goes down on you again in the shower later, water cascading over both of you while you lean against the tiles and moan his name. then he fucks you against the bathroom counter, slow and deep, making you watch in the mirror as he takes you apart once more.
by evening you’re both exhausted, tangled in your sheets again. nicholas orders takeout while you lie naked against him, his fingers idly playing with your hair.
“this changes nothing between us, right?” you ask quietly, tracing a finger over his abs. “still friends. still housemates.”
“exactly,” he agrees, squeezing your waist. “just… a really fun bonus now.”
you smile, content. the dry spell is officially over, and living with nicholas just got a whole lot more interesting. as the sun sets and the leds glow softly around the room, he rolls you under him again, lips brushing yours.
“ready for round… whatever we’re on now?” he teases.
Synopsis/Plot: After almost a year of easing through their first relationship together, Y/N and Nicho have found a love built on patience, understanding, and acceptance. But when Y/N pushes herself outside her comfort zone to support Nicho during basketball season, one painful experience leaves her questioning whether she'll ever truly belong. As insecurities resurface and emotions reach a breaking point, she discovers that love isn't about changing who you are—it's about being seen, understood, and cherished exactly as you are.
(College!Basketball Player Nicholas x Autistic!Fem!Reader)
Word Count: 7.6k-ish
Notes/Warnings: angst with hurt/comfort, fluffity fluff, mentions of ARFID, Y/F/G/B = your favorite group/band, wannabe WAGs being mean to Y/N, autistic meltdown from overstimulation, insecurities surrounding masking and autism, small makeout, first use of the “l” word between characters, written in 3rd person, use of emdashes
Read Part 1 Here!
A/N: Hello everyone! We're back with Pt. 2 of At Your Pace! I meant to get this out sooner, but I've been busy with starting grad school and some family stuff. Thank you for all the love with Pt. 1 and I hope you enjoy this one!
XOXO, Dai <333
By the spring semester of their senior year at Grey City College, Y/N and Nicholas had officially been dating for eight months.
Somehow, the time had flown by.
Their relationship didn't look quite like most of the relationships around them. And neither of them minded.
Instead of traditional date nights, they had naturally fallen into the habit of planning "date days."
Early mornings suited them best.
The world was quieter then.
Coffee shops and bakeries hadn't filled with too many customers yet.
Museums, aquariums, and zoos were still peaceful only a few minutes after opening their doors.
The botanical gardens were calm enough to hear birdsong and chirps between conversations.
Even picnics felt different beneath the soft glow of a sunrise instead of the bustle of an afternoon crowd.
It wasn't just about avoiding overstimulation for Y/N. Nicholas discovered he genuinely enjoyed those slower mornings, too.
They never had to compete with noisy crowds or long lines.
It felt like they had the world to themselves for just a little while.
When daytime outings weren't possible, their dates usually took place at Y/N's apartment.
They baked cookies that were sometimes a hit or miss from the original recipe. They experimented with new dinner recipes. Hosted overly competitive trivia and game nights. Built blanket forts for movie marathons.
Sometimes they didn't do much of anything at all.
Those evenings became some of Y/N's favorites.
More often than not, they simply enjoyed sharing the same space.
Nicholas would work on assignments at the kitchen table while Y/N curled up on the couch with her laptop and noise-cancelling headphones.
Other times, she'd read, crochet, or “puzzle" while he played a video game with headphones so that the sounds wouldn't bother her.
Hours could pass with barely a dozen words exchanged.
Neither of them found the silence uncomfortable. If anything, it was comforting.
Y/N had once described it as "adult parallel play." Nicholas preferred calling it "existing together."
Whatever the name, it quickly became one of their favorite ways to spend time with each other.
It meant more to Y/N than she could ever fully explain.
Before Nicholas, she'd been teased by classmates and even people she'd once considered friends.
"You're such a grandma." "You're so boring." "Don't you ever want to do something fun?"
Apparently, preferring quiet mornings over loud parties and nightclubs made her seem old before her time.
With Nicholas, she never had to justify herself.
She'd simply say, "Crowds aren't really my thing."
Or...
"I think I'd rather stay in tonight."
And his response was almost always the same.
"Okay."
No questions. No guilt. No attempts to convince her otherwise.
Just respect.
One afternoon, while they were sitting together on the couch, Y/N happened to glance over as Nicholas unlocked his phone.
She wasn't trying to snoop. Her eyes simply landed on the screen.
The note he had open was titled: Y/N
Curiosity got the better of her.
"...What's that?"
Nicholas looked down at his phone before smiling sheepishly.
"Oh. It's...kind of embarrassing."
"What is it?"
"It's just a list."
"A list?"
"So I don't forget things."
He handed her the phone without hesitation.
Inside was a surprisingly organized collection of notes.
Her favorite foods. The foods she avoided because of her ARFID. Sensory preferences. Boundaries they'd talked about over the past eight months. Date ideas she'd casually mentioned wanting to try someday. Gift ideas she'd unknowingly dropped into conversation months earlier. Her class schedule. Important appointments. Their anniversary.
Little reminders like:
Ask before hugging if she's had a long day.
Bring her headphones if she forgets them.
Y/F/G/B going on tour this summer. She wants to try to go. Research possible accommodations and call the arena.
Y/N stared at the screen for several long moments.
Her vision blurred. "...Nicholas."
He immediately looked concerned. "Did I do something wrong?"
She shook her head. "No."
A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. "You remembered."
He blinked.
"...Of course I did. You told me those things because they mattered. So they matter to me."
Y/N looked back down at the phone.
For someone else, it might have looked like nothing more than a simple list.
To her, it looked like love.
The quiet, thoughtful kind that paid attention. The kind she'd spent years wondering if she'd ever find.
The arrival of spring semester also meant one thing at Grey City College.
Basketball season.
Which meant Nicholas was busier than ever.
Between classes, practices, games, film sessions, and traveling for away games, he often came home just as mentally exhausted as Y/N was after a long day of masking.
One late afternoon, following an especially grueling two-hour practice, Nicholas shuffled into Y/N's apartment, kicked off his shoes, and immediately collapsed face-first onto her couch.
His voice was muffled by the throw pillow beneath him.
"...Is this what masking all day feels like to you?"
Y/N looked up from the blanket she was crocheting. A small smile spread across her face.
"Pretty much."
She set her crochet hook aside, walked over, and gently kissed the top of his head.
"My poor baby."
He let out a dramatic groan. "My social battery is in the negatives."
She laughed softly. "Welcome to my world."
Despite everything on Nicholas's schedule, Y/N did everything she could to support him.
It just looked a little different from everyone else's version of support.
Most of the other players' girlfriends rarely missed a game.
Home. Away.
It didn't matter.
They proudly wore matching jerseys, coordinated school colors, and Wolves merch while cheering from the front rows.
Eventually, they'd formed their own tight-knit friend group.
They planned brunches together, went shopping between games, and spent plenty of time talking about basketball...and about their very popular boyfriends.
Y/N admired how close they seemed.
She just knew that environment wasn't one she could comfortably exist in.
She'd never attended one of Nicholas's games.
Not because she didn't care. Because she cared enough to recognize her limits.
Hundreds, sometimes thousands, of screaming fans. Buzzers echoing through the arena. Music blasting through oversized speakers. Constant announcements. Bright lights. The unpredictable energy of a close game.
It wasn't simply loud. It was overwhelming.
And Nicholas couldn't exactly leave the court to help ground her if she became overstimulated.
That thought alone made her chest tighten.
Instead, she found other ways to support him.
Whenever practices were open to students, she'd occasionally stop by.
Always carrying the same tote bag.
Noise-cancelling headphones. A crochet project. Whatever book she happened to be reading. And her oversized puzzle book filled with sudoku, crosswords, logic puzzles, cryptograms, and word searches.
Whenever Nicholas spotted her sitting quietly in the stands, he'd grin before waving and blowing a kiss.
Sometimes she'd wave. Sometimes she’d catch it and throw one back. Sometimes she'd only smile.
He always noticed regardless.
Before every televised game, Nicholas texted her the broadcast information.
Channel 8 tonight. Tip-off at 7. 💛
She never missed one.
Throughout the game, she'd send little messages he wouldn't see until afterward.
Great steal.
That block was incredible.
Proud of you.
Win or lose, she'd always be waiting afterward.
If practice had been rough, she'd wrap him in one of her signature deep-pressure hugs.
If the team lost, he'd usually arrive at her apartment to find freshly baked chocolate chip cookies cooling on the counter.
Sometimes they didn't even talk.
She'd simply sit beside him on the couch while he rested his head in her lap.
For Nicholas, that was more than enough. It was everything.
Still, every once in a while, Y/N wondered if she should be doing more. If she could do more.
The thought lingered after one particular open practice.
As usual, the other girlfriends sat together near the front of the bleachers.
It wasn’t just the girlfriends of Nicho’s teammates. It consisted of girlfriends of players from the baseball, football, soccer, and hockey team at Grey City too.
They laughed about classes. Weekend plans. Which players looked cutest during practice.
Y/N considered introducing herself multiple times.
For exactly three seconds.
Then she quietly decided against it.
The conversations felt performative. Surface-level. Like everyone was trying a little too hard to impress one another.
Y/N had never enjoyed small talk. Pretending to enjoy it sounded even worse.
So she stayed where she was.
After practice ended, she packed her things and headed toward the locker rooms to meet Nicholas.
As she rounded the hallway corner, she heard familiar voices. She slowed.
"...I still don't get it."
"What?"
"Nicho and that girl."
"You mean Y/N? I think that’s her name."
"Yeah. Her. I wonder what he sees in her."
“No, literally. She seems so…boring.”
"Honestly? Nicho's always been kind of intimidating."
"Right? He's attractive, but he always looks so serious."
"Like he never smiles."
"Maybe that's why they're together. She never smiles either."
The group laughed.
"I've literally never heard her say more than five words."
A few of them snickered.
"Honestly, every time I see her she looks miserable."
"Right? Like she'd rather be literally anywhere else."
"She always has those huge headphones on."
"And either a book. Or she's crocheting."
"Who crochets at a basketball practice?"
The group laughed while one girl shrugged.
"I don't know. She kind of gives off…weird vibes."
"She acts like she's too good to talk to anybody."
"I tried smiling at her once. She barely even looked at me."
"Maybe she just doesn't like people."
"Or maybe she thinks she's different."
Someone scoffed.
"My thing is...if you're dating one of the best players on the team, shouldn't you actually...I don't know...show up?"
"I've never seen her at a single game."
"Seriously."
"If I were dating Nicho, I'd never miss one."
Another voice chimed in.
"Maybe she just doesn't care about basketball."
"Poor Nicho."
"He deserves someone who's actually proud to be with him."
Y/N's entire body went still. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her bag.
Each sentence landed harder than the last.
Not because the girls knew her. Because they didn't.
They'd built an entire version of who she was from a handful of quiet moments.
To them, she was weird. Cold. Boring. Unsupportive.
The familiar ache settled in her chest.
It reminded her of every time someone had mistaken her silence for arrogance. Every time she'd been called strange before anyone had bothered getting to know her.
What hurt even more was hearing them talk about Nicholas.
She knew he'd spent years worrying that people only saw him as the intimidating, broody basketball player. The "grumpy" guy.
She wished they could see the Nicholas she knew.
The one who laughed loudly over terrible puns. Who remembered every tiny detail she ever mentioned. Who carried an extra pair of earbuds just in case she forgot her headphones.
Before anyone noticed she was standing there, Y/N quietly turned around. She walked as quickly as she could back toward the now darkened gym.
Only once she'd reached the empty bleachers did she allow herself to sit down.
She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. The tears came anyway.
About ten minutes later, Nicholas stepped back into the gym, his gym bag slung over one shoulder.
He smiled the moment he spotted her.
"There you are."
He climbed the bleachers until he reached her row.
"You usually wait outside the locker room."
He tilted his head. "What happened?"
Y/N hurriedly wiped beneath her eyes before looking up.
"Oh..." She forced a small smile.
"Nothing." She looked away.
"Your teammates' girlfriends were out there. I didn't want to…interrupt."
The conversation outside the locker room lingered in Y/N's mind for days.
No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to silence it.
"She always looks miserable."
"Poor Nicho."
"He deserves someone who's actually supportive."
The words replayed over and over until they started sounding less like strangers' opinions and more like her own thoughts.
Nicholas noticed the change almost immediately.
She smiled less. Laughed less.
She spent more time staring off into space than actually participating in conversations.
Even when they were together in the comfort of her apartment, something felt...off.
That evening, Y/N lay curled up on the couch with her head resting in Nicholas's lap.
One of her favorite episodes of Tom and Jerry played quietly on the television.
Normally, she'd already be giggling at Tom's latest failed attempt to catch Jerry.
Tonight, she hadn't reacted once.
Nicholas absentmindedly petted her hair.
"Hey, sunshine..."
No response.
He gently bounced the leg her head was resting on. "Sunnnnshine..."
"Hm?"
She blinked before looking up at him. "What was that for?"
He smiled. "I think you just took a trip to Mars."
A tiny smile tugged at her lips.
"Oh. …Sorry."
She turned her attention back toward the television.
A few more moments passed.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly.
Y/N hesitated. "...Basketball."
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "Basketball?"
She nodded.
"I've been thinking..."
She paused, searching for the right words.
"I think I want to try going to one of your games."
His hand stopped petting her hair.
"Really?"
She nodded again. "I think so."
He smiled, but there was still concern in his eyes.
"Sunshine...that's a really big step."
"I know."
"Are you sure this is something you want?"
Y/N looked down at the blanket covering her legs.
"...I want to try."
A brief silence settled between them.
"I just..."
She swallowed.
"I feel like I should be doing more."
Nicholas frowned.
"More?"
"I don't know."
"I know you say everything I do is enough, but..."
She picked at a loose thread on the blanket.
"...Sometimes it doesn't feel like enough."
His expression softened.
He had no idea where this was coming from.
To him, she'd been the most supportive partner he could have asked for.
"You already support me, sunshine."
He spoke gently, wanting her to believe every word.
"You watch every game. You text me encouragement. You celebrate the wins with me. You bake me cookies after the losses. You let me collapse on your couch after practice."
He smiled.
"You've never made me question whether you're in my corner."
She looked away.
"...I know. But I'd still like to try."
Nicholas studied her for a moment.
He couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't telling him everything.
But he also knew pushing her rarely helped.
Instead, he nodded. "Okay."
Her eyes met his.
"We've got a home game next Saturday."
He thought for a moment.
"It's in the same gym where we have open practices. And it's an afternoon game, so the student section usually isn't quite as wild."
Y/N nodded.
"I can ask Coach if we can reserve a seat near one of the exits. If you get overstimulated, you leave. No guilt. No apologies."
She nodded again.
"You don't have to stay for me."
Y/N smiled softly.
"...Okay."
"And one more thing."
"Hm?"
"I'll probably be checking on you more than the scoreboard."
That finally earned a genuine laugh.
"I figured."
He grinned.
"So...you'll tell me if it gets to be too much?"
"I will. I promise."
"Good."
She gave him a playful salute.
"Yes, sir."
Nicholas laughed before gently bouncing his leg again, making her head bob slightly.
She let out an exaggerated sigh.
"You're impossible."
"And yet..."
He smiled down at her and snuck in a quick nose peck.
"...you're still dating me."
"I suppose I am."
For the first time in days, the weight in Y/N's chest felt just a little lighter.
Not gone.
Just...lighter.
The following Saturday arrived far sooner than Y/N would've liked.
Several times throughout the week, she'd considered texting Nicholas with an excuse.
A headache. Feeling tired. Too much homework.
Anything that would allow her to stay safely inside her apartment.
But every excuse felt temporary.
Sooner or later, she'd have to face the fear that had been sitting quietly in the back of her mind.
She wanted that day to be today.
That didn't stop her from pacing the living room nearly all morning.
Every few minutes, she'd glance at the clock.
Then back at the list she'd written in her planner.
Seeing the schedule on paper made everything feel just a little more manageable.
1:30 p.m. — Leave apartment.
1:40 p.m. — Arrive at the gym.
1:45 p.m. — Find reserved seat.
1:50 p.m. — Locate nearest restroom and exits.
1:55 p.m. — Return to seat. Deep breaths.
2:00 p.m. — Tip-off.
Approximately 4:00 p.m. — Game ends.
The plan wasn't rigid. It simply helped.
If she knew what came next, her brain had fewer opportunities to spiral into every possible "what if."
She also spent part of the morning standing in front of the bathroom mirror.
"Hi."
Too enthusiastic.
"Hey."
Too casual.
"Hi, I'm Y/N."
Too formal.
She sighed.
Maybe she wouldn't have to talk to anyone at all.
That would be ideal.
At exactly 1:30, she locked her apartment door behind her. Right on schedule.
The walk to the gym took a little less time than she'd anticipated.
Not because she'd left early. But because anxiety had her walking nearly twice as fast.
By the time she reached the arena, she still had several minutes to spare.
One thing at a time.
She found the reserved seat Nicholas had arranged for her.
Just as promised, it sat on the end of a row only a few steps from one of the exits.
She smiled to herself. He'd remembered.
Before sitting down, she quietly walked the perimeter of the concourse.
Women's restroom. Closest exit. Secondary exit. Another restroom.
Okay. I can do this.
Back at her seat, she slipped in the wireless noise-cancelling earbuds Nicholas had surprised her with a few weeks earlier.
Unlike her oversized headphones, these were discreet enough that they didn't draw much attention.
She adjusted the volume until the sounds of the arena softened from overwhelming to manageable.
Not silent. Just quieter.
Thankfully, this game was being played in Grey City College's smaller gymnasium rather than the university's main arena.
The crowd was noticeably smaller.
Students chatted while finding their seats. Parents waved from across the bleachers. The band warmed up in one corner of the gym.
It was still louder than Y/N preferred. But it wasn't unbearable.
She focused on her breathing.
In for four. Out for four.
One sound at a time. One moment at a time.
When the teams ran onto the court for warmups, Nicholas immediately scanned the bleachers.
The moment he spotted her, his entire face lit up.
He tapped his chest before blowing her a kiss across the court.
Y/N couldn't help smiling.
This time, instead of pretending to catch it, she blew one right back.
Nicholas clutched dramatically at his heart as though she'd completely knocked him over.
She laughed quietly to herself.
Several of his teammates rolled their eyes.
He only grinned wider.
By the time the opening tip-off began, Y/N realized something surprising.
She was...okay. Not perfectly comfortable. But okay.
She found herself following the rhythm of the game.
Watching the players rotate through offensive sets. Listening to the squeak of sneakers against the hardwood. Joining the crowd in polite applause after a good defensive stop.
Every so often, Nicholas glanced toward her during a dead ball.
Not to make sure she was still there. To make sure she was still okay.
Whenever their eyes met, he'd offer a quick wink or an exaggerated thumbs-up before jogging back into position.
Each tiny interaction grounded her.
Maybe, just maybe...
She could do this after all.
Everything she'd worked so hard to manage began unraveling during halftime.
After the Grey City dance team's performance, Y/N decided to take advantage of the break and use the restroom before the second half started.
So far, everything had gone according to plan.
She'd stayed regulated.
The noise had been manageable.
She'd even found herself genuinely enjoying parts of the game.
Maybe she really could do this.
As she finished washing her hands inside the accessible stall, the restroom door swung open.
A chorus of laughter echoed against the tile walls.
Her stomach dropped. She recognized the voices immediately.
"...Wait, did you guys see Y/N out there?"
"Oh my gosh, yeah."
"I was honestly shocked."
"Same."
"I didn't think she'd actually come."
Y/N froze.
"As she should."
"I mean...it's about time she supported her boyfriend."
Another girl laughed.
"I know."
"I've never understood how you date one of the biggest basketball players on campus and somehow never show up."
"Seriously."
"If I were dating Nicho, I'd be at every single game."
"I thought she'd be sitting there looking miserable. But she actually looked...kind of happy."
"I wasn't expecting that."
A few quiet giggles followed.
One voice spoke again.
"Did you notice she wasn't wearing those giant headphones today?"
"Yeah."
"I guess she's finally trying."
"I still don't really get it."
"What?"
"Nicho. I just don't see what he sees in her."
There was a brief silence.
Then—
"I mean..."
"I don't want to sound mean..."
"...but she always comes across so...childish."
"Not in a cute way."
"Just...socially awkward. And kind of boring."
"She acts like she'd rather read than talk to people."
Another girl snorted.
"Isn't that exactly what she does?"
The group laughed again.
"I don't know."
"They're kind of an odd match."
"I always pictured Nicho with someone who had a little more..."
She searched for the word.
"...personality."
Someone else chimed in.
"Honestly?"
"They kind of fit."
"He's always looked so broody and serious. And she always looks sad."
"They're probably the most depressing couple on campus."
Another laugh.
"It's a shame. Nicho's actually really cute."
"I always imagined he'd end up dating someone with a little more confidence."
A quieter voice finally spoke.
"...Well..."
"As long as they're happy, I guess."
The conversation moved on.
Y/N stood perfectly still.
Her hands had stopped moving beneath the running water.
The warm stream poured over her fingers unnoticed.
Childish. Boring. No personality. Depressing.
Each word lodged itself somewhere deep inside her chest.
Eventually, she forced herself to turn off the faucet.
Thank goodness for the accessible sink inside the stall.
She didn't think she could've stood by them right now.
She took one steadying breath. Then another.
Then opened the stall door.
The laughter outside stopped instantly. Five pairs of eyes turned toward her.
Shock. Embarrassment. Regret.
No one said a word.
Y/N's gaze flickered across each of their faces before settling back on the floor.
She couldn't bring herself to look at them any longer.
She quietly walked past the sinks...past the door...and back toward the gym.
The second half was set to begin in just three minutes.
She made it to her seat. Sat down. Folded her hands tightly together in her lap.
But she wasn't watching the players warming up anymore.
She was replaying every sentence she'd just heard.
Childish. Boring. No personality.
Her throat tightened.
Those weren't new insecurities.
They'd followed her throughout childhood. They'd only grown louder after receiving her autism diagnosis.
She knew she experienced joy differently than many people.
She knew some of her interests—crocheting, puzzles, watching cartoons, collecting facts about her favorite subjects—were often dismissed as "childish."
She knew socializing didn't come naturally.
None of those things made her immature. None of them made her incapable.
She lived on her own. Maintained good grades. Managed her own appointments, finances, and responsibilities.
She had built a life she was proud of.
She knew all of that. Logically.
But knowing something and believing it in moments like this were two very different things.
The referee's whistle pierced through the gym.
The second half had begun.
Only now, everything sounded different.
The band was louder. The whistles were sharper. The sneakers squeaking across the hardwood grated against her ears.
The student section erupted after the opening basket. Someone behind her jumped to their feet. Another fan yelled loud enough that she flinched.
The sounds she'd been filtering out all afternoon suddenly crashed into her at once.
Her breathing became a little shallower. A little quicker.
She wrapped her arms around herself without realizing it.
She could feel it. Her nervous system was beginning to reach its limit.
For the opening minutes of the second half, Nicholas remained on the bench.
It gave him the rare opportunity to watch the game from the sidelines. It also gave him a chance to check on Y/N.
Almost instinctively, his eyes drifted toward the section where she'd been sitting all afternoon.
His smile faded. Something was wrong.
During the first half, she'd been smiling. Clapping after big plays. Even laughing when he'd dramatically pretended one of her blown kisses had knocked him over.
Now, she looked impossibly small.
She sat curled inward, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her fingers repeatedly rubbed and picked at the sleeves of her sweatshirt.
Her shoulders rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths.
She wasn't watching the game anymore. She was staring at the floor.
At one point, she glanced toward the nearest exit. Then back at the court. Then the exit again.
Nicholas knew that look.
She was trying to convince herself to stay. Trying to decide if she could make it just a little longer.
He silently willed the clock to move faster.
Just hold on a little longer, sunshine. You don't have to prove anything.
A whistle stopped play.
He looked back toward her.
She'd slipped one earbud out, attempting to adjust the noise level with shaky hands.
Immediately, another roar from the student section filled the gym.
She flinched. Her hands immediately flew back to her ears.
Nicholas's chest tightened.
He watched her take one slow breath. Then another. Then another.
She was trying. She really was trying.
But when he looked back a few moments later, her seat was empty.
His stomach dropped.
The moment Y/N stepped into the hallway, the dam broke.
The muffled sounds of the game still echoed through the walls.
Whistles. Music. Cheering. Footsteps.
Even though they were quieter now, they still felt impossibly loud.
She hurried farther down the hallway until she found a secluded corner tucked away near the bathrooms.
The second she realized no one else was there, her knees gave out beneath her.
She slowly slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor.
Her breathing became uneven.
Too fast. Too shallow.
No matter how hard she tried to slow it down, her body refused to listen.
Hot tears blurred her vision.
"I'm okay..." She whispered to herself.
"I'm okay."
But the words didn't feel true.
Everything she'd been holding in since halftime came crashing over her all at once.
The comments. The noises. The lights. The pressure she'd unknowingly placed on herself to prove she was a "good enough" girlfriend.
A sob escaped before she could stop it.
She wrapped both arms tightly around herself, rocking back and forth as her body searched for something—anything—that felt grounding.
Her hands began rhythmically tapping against her shoulders.
Left. Right. Left. Right.
The familiar pattern helped.
Just not enough.
Another loud cheer erupted from inside the gym. She immediately clapped both hands over her ears.
It was too much. Everything was too much.
Back inside the gym, Nicholas had already made his decision.
He hurried toward the end of the bench.
"Coach."
His voice was calm, but urgent.
"I need to go."
Coach Harris looked toward the empty seat in the stands where Y/N had been sitting only moments before.
He immediately understood. His expression softened.
"Go."
No questions. No hesitation.
Years of raising his autistic son had taught him to recognize the signs of someone approaching sensory overload.
When Nicholas had requested the aisle seat for Y/N before the game, Coach Harris hadn't thought twice about approving it.
Now he silently hoped she'd made it somewhere quiet.
Nicholas was already sprinting into the hallway before the assistant coach could call for a substitution.
The crowd buzzed with confusion as players and spectators watched one of the Wolves' starters disappear from the bench.
He barely noticed.
"Y/N?" he called, his voice echoing through the corridor.
"Sunshine?"
Nothing.
He turned another corner.
"Y/N?"
Then, he heard it.
Soft sobs. Quick, uneven breaths. The gentle, pounding sound of someone rocking against the wall.
His heart sank.
He rounded the corner and found her curled tightly into herself in the far corner of the hallway.
For a moment, he didn't move.
He simply knelt a few feet away, making sure not to crowd her.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"...Hey, sunshine. I'm here."
Y/N's eyes darted toward the voice.
The moment she saw Nicholas, something inside her immediately softened.
Relief.
Not because the overwhelm disappeared.
Her body was still caught in it.
But because she wasn't alone anymore.
Nicholas stayed exactly where he was, giving her the space she'd need if she wanted it.
His voice remained calm and steady.
"Hey, sunshine. I'm right here."
She squeezed her eyes shut as another tear slipped down her cheek.
"Can you breathe with me?"
Y/N nodded quickly.
Nicholas took one slow breath in. Then slowly exhaled.
Again. And again.
Y/N tried to match his rhythm.
At first, her breaths caught halfway through. Her chest still felt tight.
But little by little, her breathing became less frantic.
Not steady. Just steadier.
Nicholas waited another moment before speaking.
"Is touch okay?"
Another quick nod.
"Deep pressure?"
She nodded again.
Without rushing, Nicholas moved behind her and lowered himself to the floor.
He positioned himself carefully so that if she leaned backward, she'd rest against him instead of the wall.
Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, applying the firm, even pressure he knew usually helped her nervous system settle.
Y/N immediately melted into him.
She rested her head against his chest. Listening.
His heartbeat. The slow rise and fall of his breathing.
The familiar rhythm grounded her in a way words couldn't.
Nicholas gently kissed the top of her head.
"I'm here," he whispered. "You don't have to go through this by yourself."
He began gently rocking the two of them back and forth.
Just enough to mirror the movement she'd already been making.
Slow. Predictable. Steady.
Minute by minute, Y/N felt her body begin releasing some of the tension it had been desperately holding onto.
The tears didn't stop. But they came more quietly now.
Eventually, her voice emerged as little more than a whisper.
"...I'm sorry."
Nicholas's arms tightened just enough for her to feel it.
"There isn't anything to apologize for, sunshine."
Another tear slipped down her face.
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to apologize."
"I couldn’t do it. And I scared you."
His heart ached. "Oh, sunshine..."
He rested his cheek lightly against the top of her head.
"The only thing I'm thinking about right now is making sure you feel safe."
Y/N buried her head deeper against his chest.
"I'm sorry," she whispered again, almost automatically.
The words weren't really for him anymore.
They were for the embarrassment. For the exhaustion. For the guilt that always seemed to follow after her nervous system finally began to settle.
Nicholas didn't argue with her this time. He knew she wasn't ready to believe him yet.
Instead, he simply held her.
Breathing with her. Rocking gently with her.
Waiting for the storm inside her to pass, one slow breath at a time.
Later that evening, Y/N hadn't spoken more than a handful of words since Nicholas had found her in the hallway.
She simply didn't have the energy.
Recovering from a meltdown always left her feeling as though every ounce of energy had been drained from her body.
Her muscles ached. Her head felt heavy. Even forming complete sentences sounded exhausting.
At the moment, the two of them were curled up together on the couch.
Nicholas lay stretched out across the cushions while Y/N rested directly on top of him, her head tucked beneath his chin.
A weighted blanket covered them both, cocooning them in a comforting heaviness.
One of Y/N's favorites, We Bare Bears, played softly in the background.
Over the last three hours, she'd drifted in and out of sleep more times than Nicholas could count.
Every now and then, she'd stir just enough to shift a little closer to him before falling asleep again.
Nicholas wasn't much different.
He'd dozed off once or twice himself, though never for very long.
Every time he woke, he'd gently brush his fingers across her head, rub slow circles across her back, or press a soft kiss against her forehead before settling back into the quiet.
Neither of them felt the need to talk. Simply existing together was enough.
Eventually, however, Nicholas reluctantly glanced toward the clock.
They hadn't eaten since 11 that morning.
With a quiet sigh, he carefully slipped out from beneath the blanket.
Almost immediately, Y/N frowned. A sleepy, dissatisfied noise escaped her lips.
"Nicholaaas..."
He couldn't help but smile.
"I know, sunshine."
He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
"I'll be right back."
Another tiny whine.
"But you're warm."
"I’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise."
That earned him the faintest huff before Y/N burrowed deeper beneath the weighted blanket.
Nicholas chuckled softly as he made his way into the kitchen.
He decided to keep dinner as simple as possible.
Grilled cheese.
Whenever Y/N had an especially difficult day, one of her safe foods almost always helped make the evening feel just a little more manageable.
It wasn't about fixing what had happened. It was about giving her something familiar.
Something predictable. Something comforting.
As the butter and mayo-covered bread sizzled gently in the pan, the warm, cheesy aroma drifted into the living room.
From beneath the blanket, Y/N's nose twitched.
A moment later, she slowly peeked over the edge of the couch.
"...Grilled cheese?"
Nicholas glanced over his shoulder and smiled. "You guessed it."
A tiny smile appeared on her face.
"I figured today called for one."
She nodded almost immediately.
"...Yum."
"And..."
He held up a plate of freshly washed celery sticks. "I even made your favorite side."
Her eyes brightened just a little. "With creamy Italian dressing?"
"Wouldn't dream of forgetting it."
For what felt like the first time all day, Y/N smiled without forcing it.
A few minutes later, the two of them sat side by side at her small kitchen table.
The apartment remained comfortably quiet.
No pressure to make conversation. No expectation to explain herself.
Just the occasional crunch of celery or the soft clink of silverware against ceramic plates.
Y/N dipped another celery stick into the creamy Italian dressing before staring thoughtfully at the table.
After a long moment, she spoke.
"...I think I'm ready to talk about what happened earlier."
Nicholas looked up from his sandwich.
"You don't have to, sunshine. There’s no rush."
She gave a small shake of her head.
"I'm not completely ready."
She paused.
"I don't think I'll ever feel completely ready."
A nervous laugh escaped her.
"My therapist says I spend too much time waiting until I feel one hundred percent prepared."
She looked down at her plate.
"And if I keep doing that...I'll probably never say it."
Nicholas reached across the table and rested his hand beside hers.
Not touching.
Just close enough if she wanted it.
"Okay."
His voice was gentle.
"I'm listening."
"Whenever you're ready."
She softly took his hand. “Thank you.”
Once they finished eating, Nicholas quietly gathered the dishes and carried them into the kitchen.
Y/N returned to the couch.
She tucked her legs beneath herself and absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on one of the throw pillows while she waited.
The apartment was quiet except for the sound of running water from the kitchen sink.
She rehearsed the conversation in her head. Then rehearsed it again.
By the time Nicholas returned a few minutes later, she still wasn't sure how to begin.
He sat across from her on the couch, folding one leg beneath himself.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Nicholas could see the conflict written across her face.
Vulnerability had never come easily to Y/N.
She often knew exactly what she wanted to say. Getting the words from her mind to her mouth was the difficult part.
Without saying anything, Nicholas simply held out both of his hands. Y/N looked down at them before slipping her own into his.
Almost instinctively, his thumbs began slowly rubbing gentle circles across the backs of her hands.
"It's okay, sunshine," he said softly. "Take your time."
She nodded.
Took one slow breath. Then another.
"...You remember how, after your practice a few days ago..."
She hesitated.
"...I seemed kind of...down?"
Nicholas nodded.
"And when I said I'd been thinking about coming to one of your games?"
Another nod.
"That...wasn't the whole reason."
She stared down at their joined hands.
"I was waiting outside your locker room after practice. Like I always do. There were a bunch of girlfriends standing out there."
She swallowed.
"Not just from basketball. There were girls from baseball...football... and a few other teams."
Another pause.
"I overheard them talking."
Nicholas felt his stomach tighten.
"...About me. And about you. And about us."
His jaw clenched almost imperceptibly. He forced himself to stay completely still.
Y/N needed him to listen first. She didn't need his anger.
"They said..."
Her voice caught.
"...that I always look miserable. That I'm boring. That I'm weird because I always bring my headphones...and my crochet...and my puzzle books."
Tears began gathering in her eyes. She blinked rapidly, trying to keep them from falling.
"They kept saying you always looked intimidating. Broody. Like you should be dating someone who matched your image."
Nicholas slowly inhaled through his nose.
He knew exactly how much those comments would have hurt her.
"And..."
Y/N's voice grew quieter.
"I think...I think that's why I wanted so badly to come to your game."
She finally looked up at him.
"I wanted to prove them wrong."
A tear escaped despite her efforts.
"I wanted to look..."
She laughed weakly through her tears.
"...normal."
Nicholas's heart broke.
"Oh, sunshine..."
She shook her head.
"It didn't even matter. Because then…I went to the bathroom during halftime. And they walked in. They didn't know I was in one of the stalls."
Her breathing hitched.
"They were still talking about me."
She squeezed Nicholas's hands a little tighter.
"They said I looked childish. They said I had no personality. They said we looked like the most depressing couple on campus."
Another tear rolled down her cheek.
"They said..."
She stopped speaking altogether.
Nicholas waited patiently.
"They said...you deserved someone better. Someone who matched your reputation. Someone who wasn't..."
She swallowed hard.
"...me."
The room fell silent.
"I know they don't know me."
She sniffled.
"And I know they were making assumptions. But..."
She looked down at her lap.
"...it made me wonder if everyone sees me that way."
Another tear slipped free.
"And then...I couldn't stop thinking about it. I tried. I really did. I kept telling myself to focus on the game. But my brain just..."
She gestured helplessly.
"...wouldn't let it go."
She took a shaky breath.
"And I think...everything together...The comments. The noise. The lights. The pressure I put on myself. It all became too much. I couldn't stay regulated anymore. It really hurt me."
Nicholas slowly nodded.
"I know, baby."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I know."
She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.
"The worst part...was seeing them when I walked out. They all looked embarrassed. Like they regretted saying it."
She gave a small, defeated shrug.
"But...the damage was already done."
The apartment fell quiet again.
Nicholas let the silence linger for a few moments.
Not because he didn't know what to say. Because he wanted her to know she'd been heard.
Finally, he spoke.
"...Can I hug you?"
Y/N nodded almost immediately.
Without another word, Nicholas gently pulled her into his arms.
She curled against his chest as though she'd been holding herself together until that very moment.
He wrapped his arms firmly, but carefully, around her.
"I'm so sorry, sunshine."
His voice trembled slightly.
"I'm so, so sorry they made you question yourself."
Y/N buried her face against his shoulder.
"...It's okay."
Nicholas gently shook his head.
"No."
He kissed the top of her hair.
"It isn't."
Nicho pulled out of the hug before lifting Y/N into his lap.
"You didn't deserve a single word of what they said."
She wiped another tear.
"And none of it changes who you are. Or how much I love you."
Y/N slowly lifted her head from Nicholas's shoulder.
"...What?"
He smiled, brushing a few loose strands of hair away from her face.
"I love you, sunshine."
Her eyes searched his for a moment.
"...Really?"
"Really."
A soft chuckle escaped him. "Very much so."
Y/N's face immediately softened.
Without saying another word, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him again.
Nicholas hugged her just as tightly, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of her head before resting his cheek against hers.
The two of them stayed like that for a long moment.
Safe. Quiet. Comfortable.
Eventually, Nicholas spoke again.
"And as for those girls..."
He sighed softly.
"They don't know you. They don't know how incredibly kind you are. Or how brilliant you are. Or how thoughtful you are."
"They've never seen the way you light up when you talk about something you love. They've never seen you spend hours crocheting gifts for other people just because you thought it'd make them smile.” They've never seen how hard you work. So don't let people who've only seen a tiny piece of you convince you they know your whole story."
Y/N felt another wave of tears prick at her eyes.
This time, they weren't from hurt.
Nicholas smiled playfully.
"And besides..."
He shrugged dramatically.
"They're probably just jealous."
Y/N raised an eyebrow.
"...Jealous?"
"Well..."
He grinned.
"They do have to watch the hottest guy on the basketball team go home with someone else."
She laughed, shaking her head.
"Nicholas..."
"What? I'm kidding."
He paused.
"...Mostly."
She laughed again, louder this time.
The sound made his heart swell.
"But seriously..."
His smile softened.
"There's a reason I call you 'sunshine.'"
Y/N looked at him curiously.
"Because your heart reminds me of sunshine. It's warm. It's gentle. And somehow..."
He squeezed her hand.
"...it makes everyone around you feel a little safer."
"You've been a light in my life ever since we met."
Y/N blinked rapidly as fresh tears gathered in her eyes.
"They judged you without ever taking the time to get to know you. That says far more about them than it ever will about you."
He gently rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand.
"Your parents know who you are. Your friends know who you are. I know who you are. And every single one of us is lucky to have you."
She smiled shyly before ducking her head.
"And..."
Nicholas added with a grin,
"I'm really proud of you."
She looked back up.
"You spent almost an entire half at your very first basketball game. I know today didn't end the way either of us wanted. But that doesn't erase how brave you were."
Y/N smiled. "...Thank you."
She thought for a moment before laughing quietly.
"I think I'll stick to supporting you from the couch."
Nicholas nodded without hesitation.
"I'd love that. You don't have to prove anything to anybody. Not to me. Not ever."
A comfortable silence settled between them.
"...Nicholas?"
"Hm?"
"I love you too."
She smiled bashfully.
"Like...a lot."
He smiled.
"I know."
She laughed.
"It kind of scares me sometimes."
Nicholas reached up and gently cupped one of her cheeks.
"I think that's okay."
He smiled warmly.
"Big feelings can be a little scary. But I wouldn't trade them for anything."
Y/N pulled back again and cupped Nicho’s cheeks with her hands.
"I think I know what you're about to ask."
She laughed through the remnants of her tears.
"...Can I kiss you?"
"You absolutely can."
She closed the distance between them, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to his lips.
Nicholas returned it just as softly, one hand resting comfortably against her back while the other remained lightly intertwined with hers.
For a few moments, all that was heard was the gentle smacking of lips.
Nicholas then tilted his head to deepen the kiss just a little.
Y/N gasped, allowing Nicho to use his tongue to brush hers softly.
Y/N pulled away first, needing to catch her breath. But, neither of them moved very far.
Their foreheads rested together.
"...Hi," Nicholas whispered with a smile.
Y/N giggled.
"...Hi."
He chuckled before peppering a few playful kisses across her forehead and cheeks, making her scrunch up her nose and laugh even harder.
"I love you so much, sunshine."
Y/N smiled, her eyes brighter than they had been all day.
"I love you too, Nicholas."
I hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to like, comment, and reblog! <33
You and Nicholas haven’t seen each other for a few months, so it’s no surprise that he showed up looking different after all this time. It was always his hair color that changed, which is why when you met again, you weren't shocked to see him blonde after the pink.
But what you hadn’t noticed was the new piece of metal piercing through his tongue now. At first, it felt weird that he was avoiding eye contact and speaking so low; usually, he always maintained eye contact and his voice was sweet and honeyed when flitring with you like always, but you decided to ignore it because the only thing on your mind was fucking him.
"Nicho—," you moan as his tongue flicks over your sensitive clit with speed and moves back down, licking up the drops of fluids escaping from your entrance. "Enough. Stop," you spoke, tugging at his hair to pull him away from your pussy.
"What's wrong?" he asks, resting his head against your thigh, gripping it tightly in that exact moment while keeping his lustful gaze locked onto you.
"I-it feels weird," you explained, looking at him in confusion when a bright smirk spread across his face.
"Are you gonna squirt?" his teasing tone asks you again, leaving a kiss on your thigh. "You can do it."
"No— it's something else, it feels— it feels cold" you said.
"Oh," he chuckled. "You already noticed," he murmured, moving back down to the level of your pussy. "Doesn't it feel good?" He gave you a long lick from your core all the way up to your clit without breaking eye contact, making you feel that exact same cold sensation. "I was excited to use it on you." He stuck his tongue out, showing you the pretty metal barbell nestled right in the middle of it. "I got it done with Maki."
You moaned, squeezing your legs around his head. Nicholas let out a laugh at the sudden pressure of your thighs, but he used his large hands to force you wide open. "Nicholas," you whimper, staring intently at the small metal bead gleaming wetly on his tongue before it vanished inside your pussy again as he went back to attacking your folds.
He slid the tip of his tongue right along the crevice, making sure the chill of the steel rubbed against your walls, which were dripping with his saliva and your own fluids.
A loud scream escaped your lips, and your back arched violently off the mattress. The texture of the metal was unbelievable, creating a sharp contrast against the heat of his saliva and the hot breath he blew against your intimacy every time he took a breath to keep going.
Nicholas kept his eyes pinned to yours while moving his tongue up and down, giving you deep, heavy licks, using the piercing like a roller that pressed and stimulated your most sensitive spot. The clinking of the metal against your wet pussy and his teeth was the only sound filling the room, alongside your uncontrolled whimpers.
Your hands found their way back to his blonde hair, but this time not to push him away, but to desperately shove him closer against you. You were drowning in the pleasure, completely losing your mind over him.
"N-Nicholas... I'm gonna...", you warned him, your pretty voice breaking in your throat, your breathing turning ragged as you felt the spasms coil deep in your core.
He smirked mid-task, feeling the first rush of your climax drench his lips. Instead of stopping, he sucked your clit into his mouth with force, pressing the metal directly against your sweet spot and moving his head rapidly.
"Fuck, Weno!" The world spun out of control. You cum hard right on his face, whimpering his name while your thighs trembled violently against his shoulders.
Nicholas swallowed every single drop of your juices, making a heavy swallowing sound right between your open legs. His mouth sucked desperately at the excess fluids dripping down his chin, licking your labia with slow, heavy strokes so as not to waste an absolute thing from your orgasm.
"Fuck, you're soaked..." He pulled his head back slightly so you could look down at him. His cheeks were glossy, his chin dripping with your slick, and his lips were completely flushed red and wet. Unapologetically, he swiped the tip of his tongue over his top lip, gathering the pooled fluids, and the piercing flashed again, clicking against his bottom teeth.
"You taste so good," he whispered. You let out a whined moan, trying to close your legs from the sheer sensitivity, but he wouldn't let you. Nicholas dug his fingers firmly into your thighs, keeping you pinned wide open for him, forcing you to watch how he relished the mess you had made. "I'm not done cleaning you up yet." He leaned down again, and this time he shoved two fingers deep inside your dripping hole, making you gasp out loud.
As your walls clamped around them, Nicholas used his pierced tongue to lick the base of his own fingers, blending the cold steel with the internal friction of his hand, moving mercilessly inside you. "Be a good girl and cum on my fingers. Do that, and you'll get my dick later."
wherein; you decide to call your boyfriend by his full name for no reason other than to watch him panic a little.
(767 words)
pairing: nicholas x f!reader
genre: established relationship, fluff, idol x non-idol
warnings: literally all fluff, use of baby, kisses!!
a/n: hello lovelies!!! i am back from my little writing break and its nicho! im so happy to be writing for him again i missed him sm (⸝⸝> ω <⸝⸝) i wrote this very quickly after thinking of it in the shower so please forgive how short it is and any little errors! i hope you guys like it! consider it my late bday gift to him hehe
“wang nicholas yixiang.”
instantly, the laughter that bounced off of the dorm walls dissolved into silence, stretched taut like a bowstring.
it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you to let yourself into your boyfriend’s dorm unannounced despite the other eight that lived there.
you were often greeted with hugs from maki or euijoo. maybe a bite stolen from whatever taki happened to be cooking.
this time, however, you had to keep yourself from laughing at the almost fearful expressions that swept across the room. even jo, who'd been halfway through reaching into a bag of chips, froze with his hand suspended in the air. harua's eyes darted between you and nicholas like he was silently trying to piece together what had happened before you arrived.
nicholas blinked up at you from the couch, eyes widening as every head slowly turned between the two of you.
you never called him by his full name.
not unless he was in trouble.
“baby…” nicholas said carefully as he stood and crossed the room to where you waited in the entryway. “hey… what’s up?”
his voice was laced with concern, so subtle you doubt anyone else noticed it. you could almost see the million thoughts ping-ponging around his head, and it took you everything to not break character. he searched your face for any clue, his smile already fading into something more cautious the closer he got.
instead, you remained standing firm with your arms crossed.
“we’ll… leave you two alone,” euijoo mumbled, already ushering the others away. a chorus of muffled ‘ooh’s and poorly hidden snickers followed.
“nicho’s cooked.”
“what did you do?”
“i didn’t do anything!” nicholas called after them, sounding genuinely offended, albeit a little unsure.
“that's what they all say,” someone muttered from the hallway, earning another round of laughter before the sound of retreating footsteps echoed farther into the dorm.
the living room emptied until it was just the two of you.
“wang yixiang,” you repeated.
he stopped only a step away. carefully, he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, a worried wrinkle forming between his brows. “…yes?”
finally, the cheeky smile you’d been holding back broke across your face as you tiptoed up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “have i ever told you how much i love you?”
“wha—“ nicholas blinked, his eyes knitting together in confusion. “baby what?”
“i said i love you.”
“i—” you could practically hear the cogs turning in his head, a small laughter bubbling out of him. “i love you too?”
nicholas turned to the empty hall where everyone had disappeared, then back to you as if waiting for someone to explain the joke to him.
“that’s all.”
“thats all?” his expression morphed into one of disbelief, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “you little—“
you squealed as nicho darted forward, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you back against him before mercilessly tickling your sides.
“you scared me!” he exclaimed between laughs. “i was trying to figure out what i'd forgotten! i thought i missed an anniversary or something!”
your laughter echoed through the dorm as you squirmed in his hold, trying—and failing—to pry his hands away. every attempt only seemed to encourage him more, his laughter growing louder as you helplessly twisted out of reach.
“nicho! i can’t breathe!” your words dissolved into helpless laughter, “im sorry!”
“oh, it’s nicho again now?”
all you could do was bury your face in his shoulder, giggling in defeat. he kissed you again before finally relenting, leaving you breathless.
you looked up just in time to catch the fond smile spreading across his face. the kind that always seemed reserved just for you. he let out one last breathy laugh before gently smoothing out your messed up hair.
“don’t do that again,” he teased, poking your side one last time and earning another squeak from you.
“okay,” your cheeks ached from smiling. “i promise.”
“yeah?” he cupped your cheek before leaning in again, your lips meeting. slower this time, softer.
“mhm,” you murmured against his lips, the last of your giggles fading into the kiss. “promise.”
somewhere down the hallway, maki called out, “is it safe to come out now?”
“no,” nicholas answered without missing a beat.
“give us five more minutes,” you added
you heard an ‘ew’ echo from the hall.
nicholas only laughed before pulling you back down beside him on the couch. one look at the grin on his face told you that, to his members' dismay, he still hadn't gotten enough of you.
tag list: @nichozzystuffs, @sofisbelle, @jothehirono (ask/comment/dm to be added or removed!)
The week passed by pretty quickly, and without realizing it, Thursday arrived in the blink of an eye. Meaning that I had to meet up with Nicholas. Fun.
I was not excited, at all. All I wanted to do after these past few weeks of overworking was to relax and not wake up until our next schedule. But I gave him my word, and I don’t break my promises.
Sighing, I put on my socks and sat on the edge of my bed, contemplating my life choices before it was time for me to leave.
Then, I grabbed all of my things and walked out of the dorm. Thankfully, none of my members were home, so I didn't have to worry about making up excuses.
The walk to the café was quite quick and peaceful since I was wearing my earphones and there weren’t a lot of people around.
As I arrived, I scanned the place to see if the brown haired had shown up before me.
By the looks of it, I was actually first. So I stood in line, and bought my go-to coffee and two cookies and sat at the table farthest from the door.
About five minutes later Nicholas appeared; he looked around and our eyes met. I just nodded, him doing the same back and ordered himself a coffee.
After his name was called, he walked toward the table and sat in front of me.
“Hey.” He spoke.
“Hi.”
“So, how have you been?” He asked after a minute of silence.
“Good, kinda tired.” I bit my cookie. “And you?”
“Same. Promotions can be fun, but exhausting.”
“Agreed. I enjoy them but it gets to a point where you just want to rest for a month.”
“Yeah. Do you get used to the work overload at some point?”
“Hmm.” I leaned back. “Kind of? Maybe after 1 or 2 years, if comebacks are constant.”
“Oh, good to know.” He nodded. “I’ll let you know how I feel after that time.” We laughed.
“So, about “the plan”. Which I still think sounds ridiculous, by the way.” Nicholas rolled his eyes playfully.
“Let’s call it an agreement or something.” He suggested.
“Still sounds funny, but it’s an improvement.” I laughed. “I was thinking it’s important that we set some rules, mainly for both of our comfort.”
He nodded. “Sounds good. What do you have in mind?”
“I’m okay with handholding and hugs in public. You know, to keep the illusion that something’s happening between us.”
“I’m okay with both. What about pet names?”
I thought for a second. “Don’t mind them, actually. Just don’t use cheesy or cringy ones.”
“Oh, so no ‘sugar plum’ or ‘angel’?” He smiled mischievously.
“God, no.” I threw a sugar packet that was near me at him.
“I’ll have to think of a better one, then.”
I laughed.
“What about other forms of affection?” Nicholas asked.
“Such as?”
“Kisses? Not on the lips, obviously. Like, on the cheek or forehead.”
“Hmm, okay.” I nodded. “Maybe use those less frequently at first, then as time progresses we can see how comfortable we feel with them.”
“Works for me.”
“Aaand lastly, not telling our members is a must, obviously.” Nicholas took a sip of his coffee. “I’m gonna assume you already told your friends outside of your group.”
“Yep, as well as you did, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“So, that’s it, then.” I placed my hand in the center. “Let’s do this, boyfriend.”
He laughed and shook my hand. “Alright, girlfriend.”
And that was the start of a rollercoaster of emotions.
Synopsis: Nicholas likes one of the top idols of the moment, he’ll do anything to get her attention. Even fake date one of her members.
Notes: This chapter took so long for no reason, lmao.
You've always been slightly taller and slightly chubbier than most girls your age.
However, your not the the type to be insecure because you love your body, and your boyfriend Nicholas is just as obsessed with it too.
But, when your family member keeps making comments on your body and gets you feeling insecure, it's up to Nicholas to make you feel good again.
Tw: angst, fluff, body shaming, handcuffs, p in v, protected sex, crying, kissing, making out, maybe more
---
Today you have a dinner date at your parent's house and you were told to bring Nicholas.
You hadn't seen your family in quite a while so you were excited.
You were sat at your beside desk touching up your make up, and you looked adorable.
You had your hair done in your favourite style, and you had on flower earrings with a matching necklace.
You got up to stand infront of your bedroom mirror, and you examined your outfit.
You wore a cream fitted top, a short denim skirt and a pair of black Mary Jane's to complete the look.
Just then, Nicholas came in.
"Oh wow. Who do we have here?" He smiled as he made his way over to you.
You turned around and smiled.
He wore a cream fitted top, and had on blue wide legged jeans. The both of you were matching.
"Awwwwwwwww your matching with me."
"Ofcourse. You literally asked me to."
He put his arms around your waist and leaned forward to kiss you.
You had to pull him off you after a while because you had just done your lip combo.
"Okay that's enough."
You went back to the mirror and leaned in closest to check your lips.
Nicholas crept up behind you and put his chest on your back. He hugged you tight and held onto your lower stomach. It was his favourite place to hold you.
When you finished wiping the surrounding area of your lips, you stood up straight and put your hands on his.
You and admired how the both of you looked in the mirror. Nicholas did the same.
You weren't that much shorter than Nicholas. And with the shoes you had on, the two of you were the same height.
You both couldn't help but smile at how cute you looked.
"You're so beautiful." He said while staring at you through the mirror."
You cheesed.
"I love you." He said.
"Awww I love you too."
-
You sprayed some perfume and put your pink handbag on your shoulder as you and Nicholas left to go to your parents' house.
---
You were sat down with Nicholas and your family at the dinner table, and everything was going perfect.
They would ask Nicholas a few questions to know more about him, and he would answer with confidence.
You couldn't be happier. Your family and your boyfriend were all getting along.
That was until your mum decided to take her focus from Nicholas, to you.
"So y/n," she started, "what have you been doing lately?"
You finished the mouthful you had and answered. "Well, I have a few more weeks left of my course, and then I think I might start looking for an apprenticeship."
"Oh ok. Do you not have time for the gym?"
The whole table went quiet.
You looked at Nicholas and he looked back at you.
"What do you mean?" You asked your mum.
"Well you've gotten a big bigger since I last saw you. Don't you go to the gym?"
You froze. You didnt know how to respond to that.
"We go sometimes." Nicholas said.
He lied. Not once have you ever gone to the gym.
"You need to take her more. Can't you see how big she's getting?" She asked him.
Nicholas put his cutlery down and looked you up and down.
"No. She looks fine to me."
Your mum rolled her eyes. "I know your trying to be nice, but to be nice, you have to tell the truth."
You couldn't even believe what was happening.
You looked to your siblings for help, and thankfully they did.
"To be honest, she doesn't even look that bad."
You rolled your eyes. Was that an insult or compliment.
"I'm not trying to be the bad guy or be mean, I'm just worried about her." She said.
You gave a fake smile and so did Nicholas.
-
Thanks to your mother, the rest of the dinner was in complete silence.
Eventually, you stopped eating and just sat there.
You could feel Nicholas constantly looking up at you. You know hes trying to see if you're okay but you were just beyond mad.
You whispered to him to give you his car keys and, told him you were going wait in the car till he was done.
When he handed then over to you, you grabbed your bag and left.
The whole table watched.
---
In the car, you sat in the passenger seat and just thought.
You thought about how embarrassing that was and about how Nicholas' face looked. He looked mortified.
---
Only two minutes after you left, Nicholas cleared his throat.
"Ummmm, I think I'm gonna go now."
He didnt wait for a reply but simply smiled before he got up and left.
He was internally panicking. He knew how soft you were and he could tell you were very upset before you left.
---
You were surprised when you saw him come out of the house so soon.
His made his way over to the drivers seat, got in and immediately looked at you.
"Are you okay?"
You didn't reply.
He put his hand on your shoulder.
"Y/n?"
"Please...just drive."
Without a word, he took his hand off you and started the engine.
The whole ride back , was silent.
---
The second the car parked, you got out and quickly opened the door to the building.
Wheb you got to your apartment, you threw your bag on the floor and headed straight for your bedroom.
You took off your shoes and stood directly infront of your mirror, analysing your body.
As you looked at yourself, your mother's words were all you could think about.
"Well you've gotten a big bigger since I last saw you."
"Don't you go to the gym?"
You scrunched up your fists, and your eyes began to water.
It took you a long time to get to confidence level you were at, and in just 5 minutes, someone managed to break that all down.
---
Taken by surprise by how quickly you left the car, Nicholas hurriedly turned off the engine and stepped out.
Before he could even lock his car, you had already vanished beyond the building door.
As he entered apartment, he saw your bag on the floor and picked it up.
For a moment, he stood in the hallway and wondered if he should leave tou alone for a while or console you.
He knew you hated being left alone, so he went into your bedroom looking for you.
-
When he saw you stood infront of the mirror, his heart dropped. Amd as he walked closer to you, he could see the tears on your face in your reflection.
He immediately turned you around to face him and held onto your shoulders.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
You looked down to the floor but Nicholas brought your face back up and cupped it with both hands.
He tried to wipe your tears away , but more kept silently flowing.
Heartbroken, he wheeled over a chair and sat you down on it. He got on his knees infront of you and took your hands in his.
He messaged them while looking up at you.
He remembered how you don't like to answer questions when you're upset, and instead, you wait till you feel calm before you start speaking.
After about a minute, you did.
"What she said was true." you sniffled, "I'm not skinny or small....but that's not my fault. It's just the way I am."
"So why does it matter what she says?" He asked.
You were silent for a moment.
"I don't know."
Nicholas sighed. "Exactly. What she said doesn't matter."
You looked at him. "I just worked hard to be able to accept myself....and she just ruined my self esteem like it meant nothing."
He got up from his knees and wiped away the new tears that were forming.
He sighed again. "Come with me."
He grabbed your hand and took you to his bedroom.
When you arrived, he took off your shirt and removed your skirt.
You didn't understand what was happening, but you trust him so you went along.
When you were down to your bra and panties, he then took off his own shirt and jeans. He tossed them on his table in the corner of his room then turned you around to face his bedroom mirror.
His was taller and wider.
He held onto your hips from behind you, and stared at you body through the reflection.
"How many times a day do I tell you your beautiful?"
You didn't respond.
He asked again. "How many times a day do I call you beautiful?"
You sighed. "Many."
"And how many times do I tell you you're perfect?"
You smiled softly. "A lot."
"So why are you taking what one person said over what I tell you everyday? Do you not trust me?"
You looked at him through the mirror. "You know I do."
"Then say it."
"I trust yo—"
"Not that." He interrupted you. "Say that your beautiful and say that you're perfect."
You turned your head away and slightly rolled your eyes.
He shifted you with his body so you faced the mirror again.
You looked at his face and he was dead serious. And kind of scary.
"Fine. I'm beautiful and I'm perfect." You said in a flat tone.
He gave you a blank stare, basically telling you to say it again.
"I'm beautiful and I'm perfect."
He kissed your neck. "Again."
"I'm beautiful and I'm perfect."
"Again." He kissed the other side of your neck.
"I'm beautiful and I'm perfect."
He looked back up at you through the mirror and could see a soft smile across your face. He smiled too.
He picked you up and threw you on his bed to land on your back.
You screamed. The sudden action took you by surprise.
However, you could tell where this was going, so you quickly removed your earnings and jewellery and put them on his bedside table.
He climbed on top of you and planted body kisses from you chest down to your lower stomach.
He crept back up, and stared at you.
He smirked. "Your body is Mine."
He reached over your body and opened his bedside desk draw. He got out a pair of handcuffs and a condom.
The second you saw them, you smiled with all your teeth showing. He looked at you and laughed.
He sat up on his knees on either side of you and pulled your body down the bed a bit. He unbuckled your bra and took it off your arms before he opened his cuffs.
Instinctively, you put your arms above your head with your wrists together, and he bent down and locked the cuffs on you.
He locked it with a key and threw the key behind him. You bit your bottom lip.
While dry humping your pussy, he layed on top of you and sucked on your lips. The two of you kissed passionately as muffled moans left his mouth.
Slowly, he slid his boxers down and you felt his bare cock touch your inner thigh.
Still kissing you, he opened the condom and stroked his dick before he put it on.
He sat back up and removed your underwear. He spat down on your pussy, and spread his saliva between your flaps.
"Up." He said.
Knowing what he meant, you put both your long legs up to lean on his chest and shoulders.
When he finished massaging your pussy with his spit, he grabbed his cock and softly thrusted his hips forward into you.
His face when he had put his full length inside you was priceless.
He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip.
He put his hands on the front of your thick thighs and began thrusting into you at a rapid pace.
Nicholas wastes not time.
---
20 minutes later, he was still fucking you senseless.
He had you turned over with your ass in the air and was fucking your pussy from behind.
His grip on your hips was so tight, you were sure there was gonna be dents in your skin by the morning.
"Fuck....I'm gonna cum." He whined.
Lying on the side of your face , you were so out of your mind that you didn't even know what he was saying.
You winced when you felt his nails dig into your flesh.
He was cumming.
He slapped into your ass with force as he came and stayed still till he was done.
"Oh fuck." He groaned.
As he slowly pulled out , revealing his condom full of cum, he looked at your body in admiration.
He loved every inch of you.
He flopped his body onto yours, causing you to fall flat on your stomach.
He put his hands on your sides and rubbed them along your curves.
I love you." He breathed into your skin.
Quietly and with no energy, you replied. "I love you too."
---
End.
Author's note: EJ has some serious competition in my heart cos Nicholas has such a way with words 😭. This was so fun to make.
The fic was inspired by this video 👇
I watched the live and he even said more 😭😭💞💞 Oh my heart 🥹
synopsis ➳ After the unfortunate passing of a family friend, you’ve been dragged back to a town that once meant everything to you. There, you’re faced with someone you wish you had never left all those years ago.
pairing ➳ townboy!nicholas x f!reader
genre/tags ➳ ANGST, hurt comfort, childhood friends to strangers to lovers, reconciliation, fluff, (implied) midwest americana
warnings ➳ cussing, tension, emotional vulnerability, mentions of verbal abuse, depression, grief, guns and hunting, smoking (very minor), daddy issues, there’s some other side characters that are ocs, suggestive content, “——“ to replace y/n
wc ➳ 10.1k+
a/n ➳ okay so i’ve been delaying this fic for like 6 months and i’m finally finished omfg. this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of Royal Blue Walls by Jane Remover and a lot of Ethel Cain. anyway, hope you enjoy this, if there’s anymore warnings i should add lmk
Your face is planted on the car window, eyes watching the passing streetlights through raindrop-stained glass. The heavy rain muffles the sounds of revving engines and blaring car horns from the traffic around you.
The city.
You’ve lived there for many years, nearly a decade. Long ago did you move there, from when you were just about old enough to enter high school.
Having spent your teen years in the city, you’ve had your fair share of relationships and friendships, with people from a more modernistic world. People that are used to seeing tall skyscrapers, blinding city lights, and densely packed public spheres.
You’ve gotten used to it, being around cityfolk. You feel like you’ve finally managed to “fit in” no matter how hard it was for you to digest a new way of life, far too different from the one you were used to.
And even then, there's always that lingering feeling of being… misplaced.
As if you were a toy, put into the wrong dollhouse. Barely passing as someone that belonged, in a domain that was never meant to hold you.
You couldn’t pinpoint what it was that made you feel like that. The people? Or your surroundings? You didn’t know. Into every room, every gathering, and every community you were ever a part of in the city — that feeling followed.
But lately, you’ve been trying not to dwell on it for too long. Especially now that you’re in a car, driving away from said city. You watch the city’s silhouette disappear into obscurity as the distance grows.
“are you alright, sweetie? you seem awfully quiet” your mother asks you, her hands still gripped onto the steering wheel, gaze set on the road.
You give a quiet hum in response.
“i know this trip was sudden, but you know exactly how much we owe dahlia,” she reminds you, “and honestly… i’d never forgive myself if we didn’t at least try to repay her”
“i know mom, it’s alright” you reassure her.
Dahlia was a long time family friend. A kind soul with a heart that only sought to give, especially to the people that needed it the most. When your father passed, you and your mother were on the receiving end of her charity.
She helped provide financial support. House bills, daily necessities, standard education — anything that your family couldn’t pay for with the money your father had left behind. Without her, you wouldn’t have been able to move to the city.
Without her, you wouldn’t have been able to survive.
Now that dahlia’s passed, your mother is determined to make it up to her, even if she’s gone. And so, she chose to become one of the funeral organizers. This meant going to where dahlia lived — hence, the road-trip.
To a place you grew up knowing. To a town that you haven’t been to since you left all those years ago.
It’s small and rural, bearing a name most won’t recognize.
The kind people would read once in a lifetime whilst skimming through old pamphlets and newspapers. A town miles away from the nearest city, taking hours to drive to no matter which direction you come from.
Unlike most cities, the town is mildly inhabited. And in a lot of ways, traditional.
None of those flashy billboards displayed on any of the buildings, or metallic rumbling from constant on-road traffic.
You enjoyed how sparingly they used lights there too. The town’s dim lighting allowed the stars to shine clearly in the night sky, which was a sight you’ve longed to see again after spending so many years away.
Everything there was un-overwhelming, is how you’d describe it. Not boring, just calm, which is something you were fond of. It makes you think that maybe, one of the things you missed the most was the tranquility of it all.
“we’re here” your mother announces. After several hours on the road, you arrive. Your mother’s car slows down as it drives through the town’s rougher roads.
Watching each old building go by, you begin to feel a warmth blooming in your heart.
This is home.
Or was.
It feels just as it did back then. You can envision your younger self strolling through every street that you pass, almost like watching a memory in third-person.
Just seeing the town center was enough to leave you fulfilled. And yet, you haven’t even gotten to your childhood house.
The house you grew up in is on the town’s outermost part — quieter than the rest.
A small dirt path leads to it, barely distinguishable. It’s within walking distance, but it’d a bit more difficult to navigate if you’ve never been there.
The path ends at a row of old houses, all lined up along a lake’s shore. And there, your childhood home stood — unchanged.
Well, somewhat unchanged.
Although cared for, the wooden planks that were once sturdy creak a lot more compared to when you’d last been there. And, you don’t remember the paint being that worn out.
But besides the obvious signs of aging in the house, it was liveable, homey even. You’d have to thank dahlia for taking care of the house so well while she was still there.
“hey, ——” your mothers voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “yeah?”
“just leave your bags here, we can unpack later tonight, i know you’re tired too” you nod and lay your belongings down.
With your newfound free time, you take a minute to look around the place. Noticing the floorboards tainted by a faint light from the sky outside.
You look out the window, it’s getting dark. You’re about to turn away, but something else catches your eye.
The lake.
Without much thought, you make your way to the large body of water in front of your home. Only takes a short walk going downhill and there it’s at.
As you walk, you take in the scene, feel the breeze trail across your skin, and watch the sun disappear into the tree line, far off across the lake.
Your eyes wander down to the shore of the lake. And you spot it — the dock. The dock that you used to hang around as a child.
Despite being such an insignificant structure to most people, it means everything to you. Carrying many of your early memories, like the first time your father taught you how to reel in a fish, or the countless times you’ve played along the shallow waters around the dock itself.
Those are the times you miss the most. When things were simpler, when the innocent joys of life hadn’t been taken away from you, and when living didn’t feel like much of a burden to carry, but a gift to cherish.
You snap out of it when the silence is interrupted by the sound of a door creaking behind you. From the house right next to yours. A man taking out trash.
You don’t recognize him at first.
That’s until you make eye contact — you know exactly who he is by then.
His eyes widen, like he’s seen something impossible. You expect him to say something, do something at least — only for him to turn right back into his home, leaving you all alone.
The door shuts loudly, making you flinch.
Silence beckons once again.
It was nicholas. You haven’t seen him in years.
A man you have a novel’s worth of history with, yet all you could do was look at him.
When you were younger, he was pretty much your only friend. The only one around your age really, but you were closer to him more than anyone else.
Ever since the wang’s introduced him to you, you and nicholas were stuck by the hip. It helped that he was your next-door neighbour, making it much easier for the two of you to stay close.
The highs, the lows, no matter what, you were together, inseparable.
And the one thing you’ll always distinctly remember about him is how he helped you cope with your father’s condition.
For as long as you could remember, seeing your father bed-ridden, devastatingly ill, and barely moving was nothing new. He wasn’t that sick earlier on in your life, still being able to work and spend quality time with you and your mother.
But as time went on, and as you grew older, he fell more and more ill.
In those times, more than ever, did you feel grief. Not when he passed away, no — instead you grieved more when he was alive, yet incapable of speaking to you. When all he could do was hold your hands and stay in bed, barely clinging on to his life. It was devastating.
Whenever the illness took a toll on him, whenever your heart couldn’t bear to see or hear his cries, the only person that kept your mind at ease was nicholas. He stayed by your side when you were crying, he sat with you by the dock when you were alone, and he held onto your hands tightly when all you wanted to do was let go.
He was just there, and that itself meant the world to you.
Nicholas kept your head up when your family was going through its darkest times. He was the kindest person you’d ever met and you wouldn’t have ever been able to get through it without him.
Despite all of that, behind his bright demeanor, you knew he didn’t have it easy. You knew the look on his face whenever he left his home. And you heard the voices from next door, the shouting, the clashing, everything.
Deep down, you knew. For nicholas, home didn’t feel safe — home didn’t feel like home.
With the way his father treated him. With how ruthless his father’s standards were. You knew that no matter how hard nicholas tried for him, it meant nothing.
Nicholas would tell you how difficult it was to satisfy him. How much he didn’t want to be like him. How much he disliked him and his habits.
He would often drag nicholas into his personal interests — hunting, to be exact. You remember how nicholas’s father would take him on routine hunting trips to “toughen him up”. Teaching him to use rifles, skin game, and butcher meat.
Nicholas grew to hate hunting. Not because he couldn’t handle anything squeamish or unpleasant to the eyes, but because it was the one thing that reminded him of his father the most. The one activity he couldn’t escape under his father’s care.
And you knew it overwhelmed him. He just wanted to get away from it all, but you knew his father wouldn’t listen. So you stood by him, because the one thing you didn’t want was for nicholas to feel unheard, or worse, alone.
Simply put, you cared for him and he cared for you. Which made you, undoubtedly, love him. Not necessarily in a romantic way, you were just really grateful that someone wanted to be there for you — that someone actually made you feel like you belonged.
However, everything seemed to have changed when your father passed.
The world you’d known your entire life just crumbled right in front of your eyes and you couldn’t do anything about it.
His passing burdened your family in every way possible, both mentally and financially. You and your mother were in shambles.
Since the family’s source of income had always been from your father, his passing had left an undeniable fate. You and your mother were going to lose everything. Every dollar and possible opportunity for the future was bound to go down the drain.
So you thought.
Thankfully, an angel in the form of a family friend, dahlia, decided to swoop in and offer your mother a well-paying job. It was like a miracle for your family.
But there was a huge catch — you had to move away to the city.
When your mother told you, your heart dropped. Not only did you lose your father, but you had to lose the one place that actually knew you.
Leaving meant losing everything you cared for, including nicholas.
Back then, you had no clue how to break the news to him. You were stuck in a whirlwind of contemplation. Constantly asking yourself, how should i tell him? repeatedly. Staying awake overnight, going over every outcome for hours on end.
Despite days of deciding, the choice you settled with was to simply — not tell him.
Cruel, you knew that, but nothing could’ve prepared you to face him, so you just... left.
You still remember that day. It was raining. Loud rumbling from the sky and dark clouds slowly covering the town from above. Glowing a beautiful blue with every burst of lightning.
You remember a forecaster mentioning through the car’s radio that a “once in a decade” storm was brewing over where you were.
It’s a detail you’ll never forget.
Even with the thundering storm, your mother pushed through and drove out of town to the city. There was no looking back. All you had was your mother, the feeling of grief, and the guilt of leaving nicholas.
You’re afraid to think that he’s grown to hate you for leaving. Just the possibility of it has been eating you up ever since you stepped out of town.
Until today, you didn’t have a clue on how he felt about you. Your mother didn’t keep contact with the wang’s either, and so you were left with no answers.
Except now, with the reaction he had when he saw you before, you have a feeling it isn’t anything good.
The next day comes fast. Down the staircase in tired steps, you wipe your eyes as you go. Your mother is already sitting by the window downstairs, going through her schedule.
“morning, mom” you say, still fighting back a yawn. “morning, sweetie” as she pulls out a chair for you.
“come sit, i need a bit of your help” she pats the empty seat. You take a seat as she shows you a sheet of paper.
“this is a list of supplies we’re still missing, you don't have to buy them today though, just make sure we have them in time” she explains.
You take the list and read through it, mind still hazy from just waking up.
“oh and tonight, we’re going to be eating dinner with the wang’s” your entire body shoots up.
“we’re… what?” you peer at your mother. “come on, i’m sure it’ll be nice to catch up with them, and you’ll get to meet nicholas too” she says, not aware of the complicated situation between the two of you.
“yeah, right” you give her an awkward smile and continue reading the list. You’re spiralling at the thought of meeting him face to face again, let alone talking to him.
And now, you’re standing right in front of the wang’s door. Time goes by way too quickly when you’re dreading something, you think.
You hear footsteps shuffling on the wooden floors. The door finally opens, letting out a warm light, contrasting the dark night outside.
“welcome back!” mrs wang invites you both in. The house is just as it used to be, but maybe a bit more furnished. You make your way to the dining table.
No nicholas, alright.
You greet nicholas’s father and take a seat across from your mother. You can’t help but notice that the only empty seat left is right beside you.
“so, how’ve you been ——?” mr wang asks. “i’ve been great, i graduated recently and i’m currently looking for a job” you tell them.
Thinking of your latest life upbringings, you share many of the new experiences you and your mother have had in the city
Like how your mother was able to afford her first car and how you’ve been admitted into a high-ranking university.
And most importantly, how both of you have learned to excel, even in grief.
So far, nobody’s brought up the elephant in the room, which is making you even more nervous. You often catch yourself taking peeks at the staircase and anxiously bouncing your leg.
You’re trying your best to control your unease, but it’s getting harder and harder as time goes by.
It’s been about half an hour since you’ve sat down for dinner. You’ve given up on waiting for nicholas. Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t come down, that’s what you tell yourself.
But just as you let your guard down, lo and behold, nicholas appears.
He stops for a moment when he sees you. His face is plastered with all sorts of emotions you can’t even decipher. He greets your mother before walking towards the chair conveniently placed right next to you.
Now you are sitting inches away from him, way too close. The air feels so thick you could probably cut a hole through it.
“ah, it’s so nice seeing the two of you together again, you’re like each other's halves afterall” nicholas’s mother says endearingly.
You give an awkward smile and nod in response. It’s surprising how they haven’t caught on yet, seriously.
Whilst the conversation goes fairly well between your parents, both of you are dead silent. He’s just hunched and quietly eating, not even sparing a glance at you. And you’re leaning against your chair, looking at his back.
He's different, really different.
Not just his looks, but his demeanor, his mannerisms, so much about him has changed. He used to look more… content. Now, it’s almost as if it has been replaced with something darker. A change that you think can only stem from hardship and difficult times.
Despite that, you’re sure he’s still in there. This nicholas might feel unfamiliar, but it’s not at the point that he’s become a complete stranger to you.
He’s like a new song, and it just happens to have a melody you used to know. Different, of course, but you still know how it goes.
At times, you see him twisting the rings on his fingers, a habit he used to have whenever he was anxious. Or how frequently he runs his hands through his hair, like he used to whenever he didn’t know how to act while feeling fidgety. Some things never change.
An hour into the dinner, he’s still just as closed off as he was in the beginning. Sometimes, you catch him stealing looks at you. Most of the time however, he just sits there, listening. Both of you still answer questions like nothing’s wrong, but you’re pretty sure they’ve already noticed how tense it is between the two of you.
When both of your parents finish up, you get up from your seat. With your body already faced away from him, you turn back one last time. “see you, nicho” is all you say, before turning back and walking out the door. He had this subtle surprised look, maybe he didn’t expect you to say anything – but you did.
Even as the door slowly closes shut, he’s looking at you, still unreadable.
You begin walking back to your house with your mother. “what’s up with you two?” she asks, a question laced in concern. You stay silent and look away towards the lake. “nicholas and i,” you let out a long breath, “it just hasn’t been the same between us since we left” you look back at her. She stays quiet for a moment.
“you should talk to him” giving a simple and concrete answer as you both approach the doorstep.
“clear up all the misunderstandings while you still have the time,” she pauses, “you might never have the chance again” her eyes meet yours. She gives you a pat on your back before entering the house.
The dinner wasn’t bad. Quite the contrary actually, you felt a bit thrilled. You’re glad he was willing to see you. With your mother’s words in mind, you hold on to the hope that reconciliation is possible between you and nicholas.
Next morning, you’re instructed to buy supplies for the funeral. Mostly minor needs, like stationary for the guest book. As well as a picture frame
You head to a local store in the town circle. Still in the same location it used to be when you were younger, but it’s without a doubt grown and changed with time.
The shop was renovated whilst you were gone. Its old wooden front was changed into polished bricks and white stone, which cleaned up the entrance.
The sound of bells chime in when you open the door. The layout isn’t as different as you thought. Bigger though, more aisles and intricate sectioning. The shelves have been replaced with taller ones. Ones you can’t look over anymore.
It’s nice seeing how much this store has grown since you’ve left.
At times, you wonder what else has changed since you’ve been gone. Truth be told, you know exactly what has – who has, even.
You navigate your way through the packed aisles and scan for the stationary area. As you pick out the pens you need, you hear the door bells chime again, but you don’t put much thought into it. There are new steps coming in, but you can’t be bothered anyway, the racks are blocking your vision.
Your shopping continues to the back of the store, where small furniture items are displayed. You see wooden trays, salt shakers, and coffee mugs with quirky quotes written on them that are very obviously outdated.
It should be easy to find picture frames in a place like this. And yet, your search so far has been unfruitful. You probably look like an idiot right now, looking at the same spots over and over again in hopes that you just missed it.
Suddenly, you hear a voice from behind you. A very familiar voice.
“are you… looking for something?” he questions with a hesitant tone.
Before you even turn your head, you already know who it is.
“oh- uh, hi nicholas,” you stutter, “i’m looking for picture frames for dahlia’s… you know” your speech is more stuttery than usual.
You can barely make eye contact with him. You’re shocked he even wanted to help you to begin with.
He looks off towards the shelves for a bit and finally points — upwards?
“it’s up there” he says. Oh. No wonder you couldn’t find it. It’s literally in an upper compartment you would’ve never even looked at.
“thanks, nicho” you say. You tiptoe and reach for one of the frames. Your entire body is stretched out at this point, but your fingers can barely even graze it.
Your feet give out and lay flat after a few tries. You slowly turn your head to nicholas already with a stature that can only be read as waiting. Patiently waiting for you to let him help.
He steps closer and reaches up to grab it for you. “here” as he passes it into your hand.
You look at the frame, then up at him. No less awkward than before, but you muster up the courage to give a small “thank you” before heading to the cashier.
After checking out, you and nicholas end up walking back home together. Mostly because you were both headed in the same direction.
Throughout the walk, he stays as closed off as ever, and you’re not sure if you should try to start a conversation at all.
But you try anyway.
“has everything been okay since i left?” he turns his head towards you, slightly caught off-guard. At first, he looks down as if thinking.
“yeah, we’ve been… fine” he answers, his voice grows quieter for each word. He looks somewhat uninterested? avoidant? You’re not sure exactly, and you don’t want to find out.
“that’s good, i’m glad you’re okay” you tell him, abruptly ending the conversation. Mostly out of fear that you’re bothering him.
The rest of the walk is in absolute silence all the way to your doorstep. You wave him off with a goodbye. He only gives you a small smile. The type of smile people give only to be polite.
It looks ingenuine.
Your hands find the doorknob. Every step to your room is heavy. Jaw clenched. Eyes starting to swell, barely even realising it.
You want him to open up, you really do. In the back of your mind, you know that prying might lead to a situation much worse than how it already is.
Things could be better, but his acknowledgement of you today is already enough to leave you satisfied.
It makes you think that not all’s lost. Even if deep down, you’re afraid. Afraid that you’ve already screwed this up before even trying to have a meaningful conversation with him.
Still, you’re clinging onto the glimmer of hope that he’ll let you into his life again. That maybe, he’ll be willing to give your friendship another shot.
Golden rays shine through your window. A vibrant glow is cast upon your face as the sun rises. The light seeping through your eyelids wakes you.
Sleeping hasn’t been easy ever since you came back. You’ve never really been an insomniac, but lately too much has been on your mind. Every time you close your eyes a thought manifests.
And of course, you cry.
You don’t particularly remember how much you cried last night, it’s just evidently clear you did.
The root of it all?
Well, you’re not sure if it’s the same feeling that followed you from the city, or if it’s the newfound guilt from seeing nicholas these past few days.
One thing’s for sure, anybody with working eyes can tell that something’s been bothering you. Your tired and swollen eyes are a sign in itself. Which is exactly why you plan on not meeting with anyone at all for the day.
Well, that’s what you wanted.
Three knocks. Three knocks on the front door is all it takes for your planned isolation to fall into pieces. With slight hesitation, you reach out to open the door.
“hi, can i help-“ you pause. Seriously?
“-nicholas, what are you doing here?” you’re in complete disbelief. Of all people to see you in your current state, it just had to be him.
And now he’s looking you dead in the eyes — examining it, even.
Yeah, he knows you’ve been crying.
He presses his lips into a line before eventually speaking. “your mother, she told me to have breakfast with you cause she wants us to, well — talk” he deadpans.
Maybe if it were someone else, you would be questioning why they’d even listen to someone else's mother to this extent. But knowing nicholas, you know very well how compliant he can be.
“…breakfast, where exactly?” you ask dumbfounded. “anywhere you want, i guess” his voice trailing off. You take a moment to jog your memory. It’s been so long since you’ve eaten out in town.
And really, there’s only one place that really comes to mind.
“how about the diner?” you suggest.
Nicholas’s eyes shoot up the moment he hears you. You know that he used to like eating at the diner. Especially, with how often the both of you used to go there, so you think it’s quite fitting.
Both of you start making your way to the diner. It’s a tad farther than most of the other establishments in town, but definitely worth the walk.
You come to a halt at the diner’s doorstep. Different, is your immediate thought. Freshly painted walls, modern decor, and newly set up hanging lights. Not nearly as dingy as it used to be.
Walking in, you’re greeted with a familiar face. “well if it isn’t ——!“ the woman calls out. You audibly gasp.
“mrs moreau, long time no see!” you greet her. Mrs moreau is someone you didn’t expect to reunite with ever again, knowing she was already of old age when you last met her.
But here she is, living and breathing with the same kind and caring smile you grew up seeing.
You’re guided to the booth you used to sit at with nicholas. Right next to the glass wall facing the street. The seats have been refurbished with a fresh maroon leather, new and eye-catching. Brand new art pieces are splayed across the diner’s walls, which you remember being emptier than it is now.
“you’ve really done wonders with the place while i was gone” as you took a seat across from nicholas.
“y’think so? i’m glad to hear that” she lays down the menu on your table. You give her a smile.
Mrs moreau takes a look at nicholas, then back at you. “i’m quite delighted to see you two together again,” you and nicholas share an awkward look, “you’ve missed a lot, you know?” she says.
“i’m aware” you let out a short laugh.
“have you told her about all the things you’ve done, nicho, dear?” she asks. “uh, like what?” he replies, with slight confusion in his tone.
“like when you landed your first job, or… when you learned how to cook with me” she says, recalling nicholas’s experiences. He laughs.
“you mean, when i worked here part-time for a few weeks? i wouldn’t really call that my first job” he laughs. You look at nicholas with raised brow. “you’ve worked here?” it’s quite a simple question, but enough to signify how much you’ve missed out on his life.
“uh, sort of…” a short pause as he shifts into a comfortable position. “honestly, it was more like a punishment for accidentally scraping the side of my dad’s car” he admits.
“hey, at least you got to have fun making dishes with me, no?” she gives him a playful nudge. Nicholas lets out a sincere laugh.
It’s great hearing him all happy and full of joy like this again. This might be the first time you’ve seen his younger self really shine through that facade he’s been hiding behind.
After catching up, mrs moreau takes your orders and leaves the two of you alone.
Nicholas is busy fiddling with the salt shakers while waiting, cute. He isn’t paying much attention to you, but you know he feels your gaze.
He’s pretty when focused. In a way that can only be described as pure, like the world he seems to despise is far and out of reach, unable to bother him.
You snap out of it when he finally looks up at you, realizing that you’ve been staring. Abruptly, your body straightens as you clear your throat.
“uhm- so, nicho, what other things have you done that I don't know of?” you ask, clumsily.
He ponders for a while. “well, i got my driver’s license,” he answers, ”which was after the car scraping incident if you were wondering” he adds. You hum in response.
“so… rest assured we won’t get into any trouble if you drive me somewhere?” you try to joke. He grins. “trust me, my slightly reckless driving days are over, ——” he laughs.
Butterflies immediately fill your stomach. You made him laugh. You give yourself a mental pat in the back, he’s finally opening up and you’re all for it.
“besides, where would you even want me to drive you? there’s literally nothing for miles around town” he asks.
“i don’t know either honestly, i guess being your passenger princess just crossed my mind” you reply sarcastically. Nicholas’s eyes go wide.
Oops. You didn’t mean for that to come out as flirty as it did.
Thankfully, comes mrs moreau with your orders in hand. You don’t know how you would’ve survived that silence if it weren’t for her.
“here y’go kids, enjoy!” she lays your food down with a sweet smile before leaving again.
Although the rest of the breakfast is quiet, it is comfortable. Which is a nice change, knowing that the interactions leading up to now have been nothing but stiff.
Both of you finish up and get ready to leave the diner. You wave your goodbye to mrs moreau and follow nicholas out. Breathing in the fresh air, you begin your walk back home with nicholas in silence, yet again.
Except this time, he’s the one that breaks the silence. “are you going to be doing anything later?” he asks softly, as if he’s afraid of startling you.
You shrug before responding.
“not much i can do here, really” which is the honest truth about town. With its tranquility, also comes its lack of any recreational entertainment.
He replies with a small hum. “what about you?” you return the question. He opens his mouth as if wanting to speak, but holds back. Your head tilts subconsciously.
“it’s nothing, i guess” he stutters.
That’s a bit strange. You’re definitely curious as to what’s bothering him, but you choose not to pry. You don’t even have to, cause after a few steps, nicholas tells you himself.
“actually, i’m going to be…” he draws out his answer, “…hunting” whilst he’s giving you a look.
A look that screams i know exactly what you’re thinking.
“don’t you… hate hunting?” you ask, with slight caution in your voice. The nicholas you grew up knowing despised hunting. So hearing this was quite the news to you.
“i do, but i’m going with my dad — and you know how he is” his voice is laced with bitterness. You don’t blame him.
Eventually, the distance to his house narrows, and you come up to its front lawn. His truck is parked right on the side of the road.
You hear a voice calling you from behind the truck. It’s mr wang, nicholas’s father. “——! it’s great timing that you’re here,” his hand lands on nicholas’s shoulder “we’re about to go out for a hunt” he says.
“yeah, he mentioned it to me already” you answer with a half-assed smile to mask the unease.
“really? i was thinking, why don’t you come with us?” he asks. In that very moment, you could see nicholas’s bewildered expression.
“oh- i mean,” you give nicholas a panicked look, then turn back at his father, “i guess… i could come, if that’s okay with you two” you reply hesitantly, slightly taken aback by the sudden invite.
“perfect! we’ll be going in thirty — in the meantime, you can go get ready, okay?” he exclaims. You nod in agreement.
“right, come on help me out with the gear, nicho” he then gives nicholas a hard pat in the back and drags him off, leaving you as they went inside.
Hunting wasn’t really how you expected to spend the afternoon. But you could be there for nicholas, which is the only thing that really matters to you right now.
After half an hour, you head towards nicholas’s house in attire somewhat suitable for a trip like this. You see the garage opened up and decide to take a peek. Inside, you see nicholas with his back facing you by the workbench.
You slowly approach him. The garage was dark, only one lightbulb hanging by a wire in the center of the room, giving off a dim light that’s barely enough to see clearly inside. Your eyes stray towards the ash wooded walls that were highly decorated with plaques, shed tools, and flags all around.
But at the farthest side, where nicholas was faced, stood the treasured gun rack. Rifles placed in every slot across the wall, each visibly well-taken care of. Almost as if they were displayed like trophies, instead of firearms.
And right above it all, like the jewel in a crown, is a shoulder mount that you haven’t seen in ages. It used to creep you out as a child, and the impression it gives you now really isn’t that far off.
Having a taxidermied deer head just hung around is quite odd, no? Well that’s what you think.
With several steps, you’re now just a few feet away from nicholas. And somehow, he still hasn’t noticed you. You peak over his shoulder and see him prepping his gun.
“i like your rifle” your voice breaks the silence, making him flinch. His eyes immediately dart to your face.
“geez, you scared the living shit out of me” his tense demeanor slowly softens as he processes your presence. Quickly, his gaze goes right back to the rifle in his hands. “my bad, didn’t mean to scare you” you take a step beside him.
“just curious on what you were so focused on” you say, especially when it was to the point he hadn’t even registered your presence until you spoke.
“i’m just checking the components on my rifle, remington 700, standard procedure” he explains. You hum. It might be the first time you’ve ever seen him handle a gun like this — with the utmost care and gentleness.
Moments pass, and all you’ve done is look at him as he’s inspecting the firearm. And maybe you stared at him a bit too intently, cause he’s been stealing glances at you like he’s worried.
“look,” nicholas lays his rifle on the table before turning towards you, “i honestly don’t know why you agreed to joining, cause i know for sure that you’re not into the whole shooting animals charade” he confronts.
“so tell me, why do you want to come with us?” he asks with his hand rested on the table, looking straight into you.
You stay still for a second, taken aback that he’d be so upfront about it. But eventually, you gather yourself and reply.
“i just want to keep you company, nicho,” you look away from his sharp gaze, “you know, now that i actually can” it is a solemn confession of your intentions, you’re not sure how he’ll take it, but all you hope for is that he’ll understand.
He keeps his eyes on you for a short moment, before turning back towards t he work table.
“i just don’t want you getting uncomfortable, ——, it’s really not worth the harm” his voice is laced with care and worry. It warms your heart.
“it’s okay, seriously, i’d come anyway even if it does make me uncomfortable” placing your hand on his shoulder, “trust me” you plead.
He looks at you for a moment, before placing his hand right over yours. “okay, i’ll trust you” you feel it, a familiar warmth you’ve longed to experience again.
You’re starting to see cracks on his hardened shell, that unrecognizable exterior is slowly melting away as you reconnect with him. It lights a fire in you seeing him reveal his true nature again.
You’re grateful.
Ending the moment, you hear mr wang calling the two of you out of the garage to start the drive. “you kids ready? let’s get on the road before it gets late”
You give eachother a knowing glance before making your way towards the front of his house.
Nicholas opens the backseat door for you, before boarding the truck himself. He’s on the driver’s seat and his father is sitting beside him.
You sit at an angle that allows you to see nicholas’s face through the rear-view mirror, which may or may not have been intentional.
The ride begins, you see off the main area of town as the road takes you to the outskirts. You can see nicholas’s hands confidently gripped on the steering wheel, an arm slightly slung over the window.
This season’s weather is cold, but the sun’s blazing heat balances it out, making the temperature cool and refreshing. It’s a great day to be out.
It’ll take a few hours to get to the hunting grounds, so you’ve made yourself comfortable in the backseat.
Not many words are spoken throughout the drive, maybe one or two small conversations, but that’s about it. You take note of the frequent wooshing sounds surrounding the truck as it cuts through strong wind currents.
As well as the occasional cold gust coming through the windows that leave your skin riddled in goosebumps. All this accompanied with the faint burnt smell of ash and nicotine seeping into the air as nicholas’s father smokes a cigarette.
Hours slip by, you start to drift off. The last thing you see is nicholas’s eyes through the mirror before you fall asleep.
The next thing you know, a hand is nudging at your shoulder. You lift your head of the car seat. Rubbing your eyes as you look around.
“—— wake up, we’re here” nicholas stands right beside you with his hand rested on the truck’s roof, waiting for you to get up. He draws his hand out to help you off the truck. Giving you a look that’s basically saying wow, she was knocked out. Can’t blame him though, you were beyond drowsy from the lack of sleep the night prior.
You finally come out of the truck. Compared to the worn out roads of the town, the ground is uneven, under a blanket of green thicket. Your legs are met with dense foliage with even the slightest movement.
“you alright?” nicholas asks with his rifle already strapped to his back. “yeah, yeah, just getting used to the terrain” you answer.
“okay good, just follow me,” he takes a step before looking back, “and stay close” he adds. You nod and start walking as all three of you enter the woods.
Walking past tree after tree , nicholas and his father lead you to their usual hunting tower. A structure built on strong wooden pillars to see the forest floor from a higher view.
You climb up the ladder first, followed by nicholas and his father. They set up their gear and seats to wait on oncoming deers. You watch them attentively look out for any buck that may be wandering through what looks like never-ending woods.
As long as you’ve known them, you’ve only heard about their great tales of successful hunting trips. So finally being able to see it with your own eyes is somewhat of a spectacle to you.
Your eyes linger on nicholas’s stature, in the perfect position to take a shot at any roaming deer.
“this might take a while, ——” nicholas’s father says with a low voice. And so, you wait. Seconds turn into minutes, and minutes turn into hours. You were starting to lose patience, honestly. But just as you thought that, nicholas whispers.
“i see one” his eyes lock onto a large buck, his finger hovers the trigger. You watch him, carefully aiming his rifle to get the shot. Everything goes dead silent.
His eyes narrow, his body tenses, and — pop.
The gun goes off. All you could hear at first were countless flocks of birds fleeing and rustling through trees above you.
Everyone stays quiet, until finally, nicholas confirms the kill. He breathes out. “i got it” his body straightens up from his earlier position.
“that looks like a big one too! let’s go check it out” nicholas’s father rushes down towards the corpse faster than any of you.
He seems overly pumped for game that wasn’t even his. Can’t say the same for nicholas though. You’re not sure what emotion he’s feeling at the moment, but it definitely isn’t a good one.
Instead of looking proud, he looks as if a burden was just lifted off of his shoulders, almost as if… relieved.
He faces you with lidded eyes. “come on, let’s get down” he reaches out his hand again, helping you down.
You walk over dead leaves and fallen branches. Just under a hundred yards away from the observation post, there the deer’s body laid.
Nicholas’s father was already looking over it when the both of you got there.
“amazing buck, and what a great shot too” he grins in delight. You and nicholas just stand behind him. He crouches down and continues inspecting it.
“thanks” nicholas says with a monotonous tone. His voice tells you that he is troubled, and his eyes tell you that he is anxious. Is he anticipating something?
A sudden groan leaves mr wang’s mouth.
“ugh, you know how much of a wuss you used to be? thanks to me you’re actually good at making shots,” he laughs sarcastically, “i can’t believe you complain about these trips, i mean look at you now — a true man” he shouts, trying to prove a point.
That’s it. That’s what he was afraid of. You don’t know if it was nicholas’s tone, or if it was how short-hand his reply was. But something he said was bound to set his father off.
He’s mentioned this before. A long time ago, by the dock. How the smallest signs of discomfort would trigger an inevitable passive aggresive response.
Now you’re seeing it unfold in real time.
You take a look at nicholas. His hands are already fisted, his jaw noticeably clenched, and his eyes staring daggers right into his father back.
“i’m bringing —— back first, it’s getting late” nicholas announces. His father barely acknowledges him. Nicholas grabs you by the arm and quickly drags you off back to the truck.
Before you could even say anything, he’s already making you sit in the passenger’s seat. He shuts the door before sitting beside you, and starting the engine.
Nicholas sighs. He grips the steering wheel with both hands, and leans his head down towards them. Covering his face.
“i’m sorry” he says, face still covered. Your hand reaches out to caress his back, but you hesitate — afraid that if you do — he might break.
You gently lay your hand on his back. Being as tender as possible, knowing the last thing he needs right now is a heavy hand.
“you don’t have to be sorry nicho, you did nothing wrong” you reassure him.
He peeks up at you and lets out a heavy breath. Fixing his posture, he finally starts driving back to town.
This time around, the sun has already started to dawn. Everything left tinted by a vibrant orange glow. It’s rather fitting with the mood that the wind currents have picked up, somehow even more violent than the ride before.
The air is thick. It’s impossible to ignore how uncomfortable nicholas looks. He’s still focused on the road, but you have a feeling he’s reliving his father’s words over and over again in his head.
“are you okay?” he looks at you, startled. He was spacing out.
He tightens his grip on the steering wheel before coming loose. “i hate hunting, it makes me feel like i’m still stuck as a child being treated as a tool by my own father,” his voice growing more distraught, “and i’m scared, okay?” he admits, glancing at you for a moment.
“i’m scared that if i let myself be stuck in this cycle, i’ll just end up like him — like my dad” his voice softens in the end.
“nicholas, i’ll let you know right now,” his eyes are still fixed on the road, but you know he’s listening, “you are a kind and strong-willed soul, compassionate about helping others, and the most caring person i’ve ever met in my life” you confess.
“i know you won’t ever be your father, because i know you for who you are” your words come out easily, it’s something you’ve been meaning to tell him since the day you met him. You wish you said this a long time ago, but it’s better late than never.
He glances at you, like something clicked in him, then looks back at the road ahead. He’s thinking.
The town has come into view. You’re just a turn away from the lake houses. You decide to tell him one last thing.
“and if you’re ever feeling stuck, you could always come to the city with me, nicholas” you offer. Just as dahlia did for you, you knew that a new start would help him. It would give him the freedom he always wanted.
As he pulls up in front of your house, you could tell that he was actually contemplating. He was still distraught, but giving him hope is the least you could do.
Nicholas stays silent.
“i’ll get off now, thanks for the ride nicho, see you tomorrow” you step off the truck. The strong winds blowing through your hair as you watch him drive off.
You know he has a lot on his mind. The only thing you want him to know is that despite what he thinks, he has you.
Eventually, you end up in your room, lying in bed, thinking. You feel guilty for leaving him, seeing firsthand how you ended up causing the last thing you’d ever want to bring upon nicholas — loneliness.
He was the only person that you could lean on when you were at your lowest, and for many years, you couldn’t do the same for him.
It makes you feel horrible. You should’ve been there for him, but you weren’t.
Hours pass. You’ve been glued to your bed the whole time. You finally force your body up when you realize your entire room has gotten dark.
It’s nearly night.
You heard nicholas’s truck pull over some time ago, so he and his father are probably back from the trip already.
Making your way downstairs, you look around for your mother, who usually is calmly reading by the window. You soon realize that she is probably resting in her room, tired from arranging tomorrow’s funeral.
You breathe out in a soft sigh.
Looking through the window, your gaze finds its way to the lake. It isn’t nighttime, but it’s a matter of time. With sunlight faintly lingering, the skies are painted in a grayish and dusky blue, albeit dark.
The hinges squeak when you open the door. You walk out of your childhood home, paying no attention to the ground beneath you — gravelly and coarse. Your steps slow as you near the edge of the dock.
You lower yourself and sit with both legs hanging over the body of water. The scent of soil and fresh water gushes through the air, which to you, is a pleasant greeting from nature.
It’s peaceful out here, especially at night. Quiet ambience and calming darkness, doesn’t overwhelm you the way the city did.
Your eyes stare blankly at the currents below you, softly crashing against the shore.
The view is beautiful, but your mind is far from it. It takes you a minute to register the tear that just ran down your face.
Your regrets come back to haunt you every time life gets too quiet. A revelation you’ve recently come to terms with.
You regret taking so long to come back, you regret never making contact with the townspeople — and most of all — you regret hurting nicholas.
It pains you that your mistakes have only dawned you now, when you feel that it’s too late.
You’re back, but nothing feels right, not since you left town all those years ago. Because maybe, leaving the person that meant the most to you and having to be stuck in a place where your very existence felt unfitting has rewired your brain in a way that’s left you in disarray.
Coming back to town meant that you’d find that old spark in you again. Except now, even when you’re here, it feels as if nothing has changed, and whatever you’ve been trying to leave behind has already grown into you like roots.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a sudden sharp clap. Your eyes shoot up to see a ginormous stormcloud rolling in, like a beast roaming the sky. With every flash of lightning, a deafening crack follows.
It looks similar, like the very storm you saw when you were leaving town all those years ago. That same otherworldly glow you’ll never forget.
The sound of dense grasses brushing against each other grows more and more violent. The wind picks up, pushing against any loose fabric on your body.
Then you feel it, a cold tap on your arm, followed by another, and another, until all you can feel are countless droplets on your skin.
You should probably get up and go inside, but something is telling you to just stay put.
So you do.
You sit there, taking it in. You’re still crying — thing is you can't differentiate the tears on your face with the raindrops pouring down anymore.
It feels freeing, letting your emotions out in a raging storm. You’d like to think that this is your way of cleansing your past. Obviously reckless, but at least it’s bringing you some semblance of comfort.
You stay there for a while, about who knows how long. A few minutes? Hours? You can’t tell.
The elements around you feel almost like an embrace — a cold, wet embrace. It soothes you with how the wind howls and how the rain washes away your tears.
To your surprise, an unfamiliar warmth touches your skin. Your eyes dart to your side, a hand is gripped onto your shoulder.
“what the hell are you doing?” nicholas says, shouting through the rain. You tilt your head towards him.
“nicholas?” with it being so late, you’re shocked anyone even thought of stepping outside.
“—— get up” he pulls you up and drags you back to his house. Both of you are absolutely drenched in rain.
You enter his home. His hands are still holding onto your wrist as he shuts the door.
Nicholas looks at you, before darting to his room and quickly coming back. He comes back with neatly folded clothes in hand.
“nicho, i-“ he cuts you off. “look, i don’t know why you were out there to begin with, but you can tell me later, okay?” his voice full of worry.
He holds your wrist softly and leads you to the bathroom. “for now, i need you to wash up, don’t want you getting sick” he hands you the clothes with a new towel. Hesitantly, you walk towards the bathroom.
You turn your back to look at him, leaving both of you standing at the doorframe, facing each other. “are you sure it’s okay for me to be here? aren’t your parents home? i can always just walk back to my place, you know” you whisper, not wanting to make much noise.
“——, trust me, they won’t hear you, besides they won’t mind if you stay over for a night, it’s storming like crazy outside” he reassures you.
“fine, if you say so” you comply in defeat. “now go take a shower, okay?” he slowly pushes you in and closes the bathroom door with a small smile.
The door shuts in your face. You stand there for a second, clothes in hand, some areas getting wet from soaking the rainwater left on your hands.
You’re ashamed that nicholas had to see you like that. You didn’t expect him to be as worried as he really was.
For him to go out and take care of you like this feels like a flash from the past. Like a moment from your childhood being reimagined into a new one.
He used to help you dry off when you were kids. Both sat next to each other, taking turns with a small electrical fan, letting it turn left and right, just to dry each other’s hair after a long day at the lake.
It’s happening again, except this time, with a figurative wall of hidden resentment and apologies built right between you and him. It shouldn’t have been like this.
All you want is for those very walls to come crashing down, and reveal a space that allows your hearts to be true to one another once again, without holding back.
You finish showering. You’re in clothes slightly oversized on your body, nicholas’s clothes. A simple old graphic t-shirt and comfy shorts.
With a towel still wrapped around your shoulders, you walk out of the bathroom. Nicholas is in his room, laying patiently on his bed. The lights are low, so you can barely make out his expression.
He looks and sees you.
“——, you’re done” he sits up as you walk towards him. He’s closer now, he smells of shampoo and freshly-washed clothing. Probably finished showering not long before you.
“yeah, sorry i took a while” you say, rubbing your hair gently with the towel. “no it’s alright, i just finished earlier too” he says.
A short silence follows as you stand face to face without a word. You look out the window beside his bed. The rain’s gotten worse.
“come sit down” he pats the space beside him. You comply, his side presses against you as the mattress dips down from your weight.
“so… why were you in the rain?” he asks.
“i don’t know it- it just felt right, i guess” your voice quieter by the end.
“you okay?” he asks, looking at you with concern.
“i’m sorry” you say.
“about… what?” his question drawn out.
“about everything” you look him in the eyes. “i’d be lying if I told you I didn't know why I left without a word back then — cause truthfully, i knew” your breathing unsteady.
“i knew how much i meant to you, i really did, nicholas — it’s just that, i was so afraid to look you in the eyes and say that i was leaving you behind even though you’d been there for me since forever” you admit, head turned down hiding your tears.
Nicholas opens his mouth to speak, but you stop him.
“and don’t pretend i didn’t hurt you because i know i did, i saw the way you looked at me that day, i knew that look” you peer up to nicholas, eyes pleading for honesty.
He looks away and stays silent for a moment. Letting out a deep sigh, before speaking.
“you’re right, i was hurt” he confesses. “but i should’ve never blamed you,” your eyes meet again, “you were grieving ——, it wasn’t fair for me to just — resent you”
“and maybe you should’ve told me that you were leaving, but i think even then, i should’ve been the one to understand your situation” his hand reaches out and lands over yours. “especially, because i should’ve known you”
He speaks to you with a gaze, soft and caring, like a silent confession — not bound by words, but by the glint of light in his eyes and the tenderness in his hands.
“Since the hunting trip too, it’s like i’ve been reminded of the person you are — you’re a person who cares” he says.
“and fuck, ——, i care about you too” his grip tightens around your hand.
Without much hesitation, your free hand cups his face, and you kiss him. Soft, testing the waters at first. He brings his hand onto the back of your neck and presses deeper into your lips, tilting his head.
Nicholas leans back on the headboard. You follow suit, climbing on top of him, mouths still attached. Your hands hook around his neck.
His hands slowly hover down over your waist. “can i?” he asks, breaking the kiss. “please just hold me, nicholas” you plead, before closing the distance again.
His hands finally lay onto your waist, softly caressing your skin as your body eases onto him.
You both end up resting forehead to forehead, breathless. Eyes still closed, just taking each other’s presence in.
Gradually, you and nicholas lower your bodies onto the mattress. With you laid beside him and your head nuzzled against his chest, his arms around your figure. The blanket pulled over your shoulders, keeping you warm.
“nicholas, i’m glad to have you in my life” you mumble. “me too” nicholas replies as your eyes begin to shut.
As you’re sleeping against his body, under his care, you think that maybe you weren’t missing belonging. The one thing you were missing was someone who knew the world the way you did.
Tomorrow, you’ll wake up in his outfit, and your life will still be the same.
All you know, is that it’ll be a lot less lonely with a person who truly understands.
It’s the funeral day.
You managed to sneak back home before anyone noticed you slept overnight at nicholas’s, thankfully.
Putting on a simple black dress for the occasion, flowers in hand. The ride to the cemetery was swift, and the ceremony ended as fast as it started.
You’re standing quite far from the gathering, looking over the attendees, still saying their goodbyes.
“heard you’re going back tomorrow?” nicholas’s voice suddenly appears beside you, crossing his arm with yours.
“yeah, don’t miss me too much” you joke. “i’ll try” he replies with a soft smile.
“but actually, i was thinking you could just come with me,” your eyes meet his, “ we have room, you know”
“as long as your mom won’t be bothered i’m up for it” he answers.
“of course she won’t, nicho” you let out a small laugh.
“perfect, can’t wait” nicholas leaves a peck on your head.
