✧ after weeks of pretending he could survive the breakup, nicholas finally shows up at your door with flowers in his hands and too many things left unsaid. the conversation hurts, loving each other still hurts more, and somehow neither of you really learned how to stop.
✧ part 1 | part 2
✧ nicholas x reader | exes to lovers, angst, reconciliation, hurt/comfort, emotional confrontation, idol au | wc: ~1.3k
✧ author’s note: PART 2 PART 2 PART 2 AHHH (can make part 3 if you guys want! i can see like a what happens inside apartment/epilogue moment but major fluff bc like ugh they need it)
the drive over felt endless.
every red light lasted too long.
every second made him think maybe this was stupid. maybe he was already too late. maybe you wouldn’t even open the door.
nicholas gripped the steering wheel tighter.
his heartbeat hadn’t slowed once since leaving the dorm.
rain dotted weakly against the windshield, city lights smearing across the glass in blurred streaks while memories kept hitting him one after another like punishment.
your laugh in the passenger seat.
your hand stealing fries from his bag at stoplights.
the way you used to sing wrong lyrics confidently just to annoy him.
three years.
three years, and he almost let silence become the ending.
his phone buzzed again through the cupholder.
this time he looked.
ej.
he answered on speaker without taking his eyes off the road.
“did you seriously leave?”
“yes.”
a pause.
then, “okay. good.”
nicholas let out a breathy laugh despite himself.
“bring flowers,” ej added immediately.
“i’m literally driving right now.”
“then apologize extra hard.”
the call disconnected before he could answer.
nicholas stared ahead again.
then quieter, mostly to himself—
“i know.”
—
your apartment building looked exactly the same.
and somehow that made it worse.
the same dim hallway lights.
the same crooked number plate beside your door.
the same stupid welcome mat you refused to throw away because “it had personality.”
his stomach twisted violently as he stood there.
for the first time since getting out of the car, fear finally caught up to him properly.
what if you’d moved on?
what if you were happier now?
what if he was only showing up because he couldn’t handle losing you, not because he deserved another chance?
nicholas swallowed hard.
then knocked anyway.
once.
twice.
movement sounded faintly inside.
and suddenly every nerve in his body lit on fire.
the lock clicked.
the door opened.
you froze.
so did he.
for a second neither of you spoke at all.
you looked tired.
not dramatically.
not heartbreak-movie devastated.
just… tired in the way people become after carrying sadness quietly for too long.
nicholas thought that somehow hurt worse.
your eyes flicked over him carefully, like you weren’t sure if he was real.
“...nicholas?”
his throat tightened instantly at hearing his name in your voice again.
“hi.”
you stared at him.
then at the late hour behind him.
then back at him again.
“i don’t—” you started softly, confused. “what are you doing here?”
everything he rehearsed in the car disappeared immediately.
every sentence.
every explanation.
gone.
because standing in front of you again after weeks apart didn’t feel like heartbreak or resentment.
it felt like finally breathing after drowning.
nicholas looked at you for one long second before saying honestly,
“i think i made the worst mistake of my life.”
your expression cracked slightly.
just slightly.
but he saw it.
you looked down immediately afterward like you hated that he saw it.
the hallway stayed painfully quiet.
rain tapped softly against the building windows somewhere farther away.
nicholas rubbed both hands nervously against his jeans before speaking again.
“i know i probably don’t deserve you opening this door right now,” he said carefully. “and i know i can’t fix everything in one conversation, but i need you to know that losing you feels wrong. like—”
he stopped, jaw tightening.
“like i’ve spent three weeks existing without anything actually reaching me.”
your eyes lifted back to his slowly.
he kept going before courage disappeared.
“i kept trying to tell myself maybe this was for the best. maybe we just grew apart or maybe love isn’t always enough or whatever people say to survive breakups.” he laughed weakly. “but then i found the scrapbook.”
your breath caught faintly.
“and i realized something.”
nicholas stepped a little closer.
“every single memory in that thing still feels like home to me.”
silence.
heavy.
dangerous.
your fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the door.
“nicholas…”
“i’m not here because i’m lonely,” he said quickly. “and i’m not here because i suddenly forgot the reasons we broke up. i know i hurt you.”
that one almost broke him to admit out loud.
“i know i did.”
you looked away again.
and that hurt too.
because he knew exactly why.
the missed calls.
the postponed dates.
the exhaustion that slowly turned into distance.
the way love had started getting buried underneath schedules and stress and silence neither of you knew how to fix properly.
he took another breath.
“but i still love you,” he said quietly. “stupidly. completely. in the terrifying way that makes every future i imagined still have you in it automatically.”
your eyes watered immediately.
nicholas felt his own vision blur.
“i don’t need everything to go back to normal tonight,” he continued softly. “i just… i need to know if there’s still something here worth fighting for.”
for a long moment, you said nothing.
then finally—
“you really hurt me.”
the words came out small.
not angry.
which somehow made them infinitely worse.
nicholas nodded instantly. “i know.”
“there were days i felt like i was begging you to notice me.”
his chest caved inward.
“i know.”
“you stopped talking to me when things got hard.”
“i know.”
your voice shook now despite your obvious attempts to steady it.
“and the worst part is i kept understanding why you were overwhelmed, so i felt guilty for being upset at all.”
nicholas closed his eyes briefly.
every sentence landed exactly where it deserved to.
you wiped at your face quickly, frustrated tears slipping out anyway.
“i hated missing you even while we were still together.”
that one nearly destroyed him.
nicholas looked at you helplessly.
then quietly—
“i hated myself for becoming someone who could make you feel alone.”
silence again.
but different this time.
softer.
you stared at him for a long moment like you were trying to decide whether trusting him again would heal you or ruin you completely.
nicholas let you.
he didn't rush to fill the silence.
didn't try to convince you.
didn't make promises he couldn't keep.
for the first time, he just stood there and let you see everything.
the fear.
the regret.
the hope.
all of it.
then he took a shaky breath.
“i don't know what happens after this,” he admitted quietly.
your eyes flickered.
“i don't know if you're ready to forgive me. i don't know if i deserve it.”
his throat tightened.
“but if there’s even the smallest chance... i'll do this right this time.”
the words came out rough.
honest.
“i'll show up.”
your expression faltered.
“every day if i have to.”
nicholas swallowed.
“because losing you made me realize something.”
his voice softened.
“you were never something i wanted to fit into my life.”
your eyes watered immediately.
“you’re the person i want to spend my life with.”
for a second neither of you moved.
then your gaze dropped suddenly toward his hands.
“nicholas?”
he blinked. “what?”
“you brought flowers?”
he looked down like he forgot he was holding them at all.
a laugh escaped you unexpectedly through your tears.
small.
watery.
real.
and nicholas swore his heart almost gave out on the spot.
“they were ej’s idea,” he admitted weakly.
you laughed again.
actually laughed this time.
god.
he missed that sound so much.
nicholas smiled before he could stop himself.
and seeing that seemed to affect you too, because your expression softened in a way he hadn’t seen in weeks.
carefully, uncertainly, you opened the door wider.
“…do you wanna come inside?”
—
𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 taglist: @ivelvette , @bloomedberry , @dedlexte , @kayceeeeeeeeee , @swansea090702 , (love u all so so much <3)
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ꕤ｡˚⋆ two bunnies, one stage, and absolutely no crush ⋆˚｡ꕤ
✧ an award show special stage brings two “bunny idols” together for the first time on camera—but behind the practice room doors, harua is anything but calm.
✧ idol x idol, strangers to crushes, slow burn, fluff, awkward harua, oblivious reader, behind-the-scenes practice, nicholas being way too observant | wc: ~2.9k
k snorted. “he’s acting calm now but watch him panic later.”
“i’m not panicking.”
“sure.”
harua rolled his eyes lightly and stood up, grabbing his hoodie.
“you guys are weird.”
“he's nervous,” yuma whispered loudly the second he walked away.
“he’s absolutely nervous,” nicholas agreed.
from down the hallway, harua’s voice echoed back immediately:
“i can still hear you.”
—
he was not nervous.
seriously.
he wasn’t.
until the practice room door opened.
and you walked in.
harua looked up automatically—
and immediately forgot every coherent thought he’d ever had in his life.
because oh.
oh no.
you smiled the second you noticed him standing there.
bright. easy. pretty enough to make his brain completely short-circuit.
“hi!” you said quickly, bowing politely. “sorry if i’m late.”
harua stared.
you blinked.
“…hi?”
“harua,” the choreographer called slowly.
his soul reentered his body.
“right,” he said immediately, bowing so fast he almost scared himself. “hi. hello.”
you looked slightly surprised before smiling again.
“i’m excited to work with you.”
he nodded too quickly. “me too.”
too fast.
way too fast.
why did he say it like that.
you tilted your head slightly, clearly trying not to laugh.
cute.
you were cute.
this was horrible.
the practice started almost immediately after introductions, but harua realized something very quickly:
you talked to him extremely easily.
like you’d known him longer than ten minutes.
“wait, does this move feel awkward to you too?” you asked at one point, laughing while trying the choreography again. “i feel like i’m fighting the music.”
harua looked at you.
then immediately looked away because you were smiling again.
“…a little.”
“right?” you grinned. “okay good i thought i was just bad at this.”
“no, you’re amazing at dancing.”
the compliment came out instantly.
you blinked at him.
harua froze.
“…thank you,” you said softly.
he nodded once.
then walked directly into the mirrored wall.
the entire room went silent.
you gasped. “oh my god are you okay?!”
harua covered his face instantly.
he wanted to disappear.
the choreographer looked deeply concerned.
“harua?”
“i’m fine,” he mumbled from behind his hands.
you were trying so hard not to laugh.
which somehow made it worse.
—
it only got more embarrassing from there.
every single time you touched him during choreography practice, harua malfunctioned slightly.
hand touches? panic.
eye contact? worse.
one time you fixed the collar of his practice hoodie absentmindedly and he forgot an entire eight count immediately afterward.
“sorry!” you laughed. “did i distract you?”
harua stared at the floor.
“…maybe.”
you blinked.
then laughed again like you thought he was joking.
he wasn’t.
but somehow that made him even more flustered.
because now you kept talking to him comfortably while he was internally losing his mind.
“you’re quieter than i expected,” you said during break one day, sitting beside him on the floor.
harua nearly dropped his water bottle.
“…is that bad?”
“no! not at all!” you said quickly. “you’re easy to talk to though.”
he looked at you carefully.
“…i am?”
“mhm.” you smiled. “you listen really well.”
his ears turned pink instantly.
you noticed.
but seemed to interpret it completely differently.
“ahhh,” you said sympathetically. “do you get shy around new people?”
harua opened his mouth.
closed it.
“…yeah.”
that was technically true.
just not usually this bad.
you smiled warmly. “don’t worry. i talk enough for the both of us!”
he nodded faintly.
he had noticed.
—
by the third practice, the members started catching on.
especially nicholas.
because the second he walked into the practice room to “check how things were going,” he immediately stopped in the doorway.
harua was standing beside you while you talked animatedly about something, hands moving excitedly while laughing.
and harua—
harua was staring at you like you personally hung the stars.
nicholas slowly looked around the room.
then back at harua.
then suddenly started choking on his own laughter.
harua’s eyes widened immediately.
oh no.
“what?” you asked, blinking at nicholas.
“nothing,” nicholas said instantly, covering his mouth while laughing harder.
harua moved immediately.
“come outside,” he said flatly, grabbing nicholas by the sleeve.
nicholas practically doubled over. “no wait—”
“outside.”
“harua this is the funniest thin—”
“outside.”
you watched in confusion as harua dragged a still-laughing nicholas out of the practice room by force.
the door slammed shut behind them.
silence.
you blinked once.
“…what just happened.”
the choreographer looked up from the music controls.
“honestly?” he said. “i think you should let them work that out themselves.”
—
outside the practice room, nicholas was literally bent over laughing against the hallway wall.
“dude,” he wheezed. “you are SO gone.”
harua covered his face with one hand.
“stop talking.”
“you walked into a WALL.”
“i know.”
harua groaned quietly.
nicholas pointed at him accusingly. “and don’t think i didn’t notice you fixing your hair every ten seconds before practice.”
“i hate you.”
“no because like,” nicholas laughed. “you’ve had a crush for like three days and you already look ready to write her a song.”
harua slid down the wall slightly in defeat.
“…is it that obvious.”
nicholas stared at him.
then burst into laughter again.
harua wanted to disappear.
seriously.
“i don’t even know what happened,” he admitted quietly. “i saw her and then suddenly i forgot how to act like a person.”
nicholas wiped tears from his eyes dramatically.
“this is unbelievable.”
“you’re being really annoying right now.”
“because this is adorable,” nicholas corrected. “harua, you literally blush every time she smiles at you.”
harua looked away immediately.
which honestly answered enough.
nicholas grinned so hard it looked painful.
“you have a crushhhhh.”
harua sighed into his hands.
“…ok maybe.”
there was a long pause.
then nicholas softened slightly, still smiling.
“…you should talk to her more.”
harua blinked. “what.”
“she likes talking to you, idiot.”
his stomach flipped instantly.
“you think so?”
nicholas stared at him like it was obvious.
she literally kept circling back to you every time the conversation drifted,” nicholas said, shaking his head. “like she didn’t want it to end.”
"really?"
harua went quiet.
nicholas glanced at him again, amused. “I can't believe you just looked at her for five straight minutes while she talked about milk tea flavors.”
“…they sounded important.”
nicholas collapsed in laughter for the 5th time.
and inside the practice room—
you sat cross-legged on the floor, completely unaware that harua was currently outside having a full emotional crisis about you.
✧ yuma comes back from drinking with the members a little tipsy, a lot clingy, and impossibly soft.
✧ yuma x reader | established relationship, fluff, drunk/tipsy yuma, clingy behavior, soft romance, kissing, comfort, idol au | wc: 735
✧ author’s note: short and sweet yuma drabble to end the night hehe
the apartment was quiet when yuma got home.
you heard the front door open, followed by the soft shuffle of his shoes against the floor, and looked up just in time to see him standing there in the hallway.
his hair was messy from the wind outside. hoodie half-zipped. cheeks slightly pink.
and the second he saw you, he smiled.
small.
immediate.
like finding you there was enough to make the whole night settle properly.
“hi,” he said softly.
you smiled back. “hi, baby.”
he stood there for another second like he was deciding something.
then he walked straight over to the couch and quietly climbed into your space without a word, curling up against your side.
you laughed under your breath as his arms slipped around your waist.
“tired?”
“mhm.”
“did you drink a lot?”
he shook his head against your shoulder. “just enough to miss you extra.”
your heart gave the tiniest ache.
yuma sighed softly once you wrapped your arms around him, like he’d been waiting for it all night without realizing.
for a while, neither of you talked.
he just stayed close, cheek pressed against your shoulder while your fingers played with the ends of his hair.
then quietly:
“i kept thinking about coming home.”
you looked down at him. “yeah?”
he nodded once.
“i think my favorite part of going out is getting to come back to you after.”
the way he said it was so simple.
so honest.
like it wasn’t even meant to sound romantic.
you felt him shift slightly closer after saying it, like he instinctively wanted to hide from how affectionate that sounded.
“you’re really cute right now,” you teased gently.
“no, i’m not.”
“you literally just said your favorite thing in the world is coming home to me.”
yuma went quiet.
then he tightened his arms around you a little and mumbled into your shoulder:
“…because it is.”
you completely melted.
a quiet silence settled after that, warm and heavy in the nicest way.
then suddenly, yuma tilted his head up and stared at you for a second like he’d just noticed something important.
“what?” you laughed softly.
he didn’t answer.
he just looked at you with that sleepy, unbearably fond expression for another second before one of his hands slid up gently against your cheek.
then he leaned in and kissed you.
slow.
warm.
the kind of kiss that lingered before it even really started.
you could still feel his small smile against your lips, soft and sleepy and completely full of you.
when he finally pulled back, he stayed close enough that your noses still brushed.
“…there,” he murmured quietly, like he’d been meaning to do that since he walked through the door.
then he tucked himself back against you again without another thought, arms tightening around your waist like coming home to you was something his body already knew by heart.
ꕤ｡˚⋆ don’t call it romance, it’s choreography ⋆˚｡ꕤ
✧ a “casual” dance practice turns into hand-holding, bad footwork, and very questionable professionalism when yuma decides teaching you choreography is basically an excuse to flirt.
✧ yuma x reader | established relationship, idol au, fluff, teasing, comedy, soft romance, practice room chaos | wc: ~2k
✧ author’s note: yuma vs. two nosy members (he lost instantly) ♡
the dance practice room was supposed to be empty, but it definitely wasn’t.
the speakers were playing something way too loud for “just chilling,” and you were already bouncing slightly on your heels before you even finished taking your jacket off, humming along under your breath like you were part of the song already.
“no,” you said immediately, pointing at the mirror with a grin. “don’t start judging me yet.”
yuma turned around from where he was messing with the speaker, looking way too pleased with himself.
“i didn’t even say anything,” he replied.
“your face did.”
he gasped like he was offended, but he was already smiling. “my face is neutral.”
you walked over quickly, light on your feet, squinting at him like you were trying to decode him. “your face is literally laughing at me already.”
“that’s because i know what’s about to happen,” he said, stepping closer and grabbing your hand before you could protest. “you’re about to suffer.”
you squeezed his hand back immediately, smiling like that was a challenge. “i came here voluntarily.”
“that’s what makes it worse.”
you both moved to the center of the room, standing in front of the mirror. he bounced lightly on his heels, and you mirrored him without thinking, still smiling like you were about to have way too much fun for something “serious.”
“okay,” he said, clapping once. “this is easy. even you can do it.”
you gasped, laughing already. “even me?”
“yeah,” he nodded like it was obvious, then softened it immediately with a grin. “i believe in you though.”
“that sounded like an insult and a compliment fighting.”
“it was both,” he said proudly.
you bumped his arm with your shoulder, still smiling, and he immediately caught your wrist like he was expecting it.
“okay okay, listen,” he said, still holding your hand now. “just copy me. no thinking. thinking is where you go wrong.”
“wow. inspirational.”
"thank you."
the music started properly this time, and he immediately began doing the steps with way too much confidence for something he called “easy.”
you tried to follow, very seriously for about two seconds.
you failed immediately.
“nope,” he said, stopping mid-step and turning to you. “why are your feet arguing with you?”
you blinked, laughing. “they’re not arguing.”
“they are protesting.”
“i’m doing it right.”
“you just spun in the wrong direction.”
you tilted your head, still smiling. “that was artistic interpretation.”
he stared at you for a second, then broke into a grin. “okay. no. we’re restarting your brain.”
“excuse me?”
he stepped closer and placed his hands at your waist, gently guiding you into position as he made a small guiding motion, thumbs steady while he adjusted your stance without even thinking.
“watch,” he said, voice softer now but still playful. “left. right. turn. it’s literally just walking but dramatic.”
“you’re making it sound worse,” you said, as you leaned towards him.
“it is worse.”
you both burst out laughing, the whole “serious practice” completely gone already.
he tried again showing you again, slower this time, and you followed him with exaggerated focus, lips slightly parted like you were actually concentrating way too hard.
“why are you doing that face,” he asked, laughing.
“it helps me focus.”
“it does not.”
“it does.”
“it makes you look like a stressed raccoon.”
you gasped. “i am not a raccoon.”
“you are emotionally a raccoon right now.”
you swung his hand lightly, still smiling. “you’re distracting me on purpose.”
“i’m not,” he said immediately, then grinned. “okay maybe a little.”
after a few tries, you actually got the step right.
you froze for half a second, then lit up instantly, eyes wide.
“did you see that?” you said, bouncing slightly in place. “i did it!”
he blinked at you like he was genuinely impressed despite himself. “you mean the one time you didn’t almost fall into the mirror? yes, i witnessed history.”
you laughed, bumping into him lightly. “you’re so mean.”
“i’m honest,” he corrected, then softened immediately, squeezing your hand once. “you did good though.”
you tried to hide your smile and failed completely, your whole face bright.
“obviously i did good,” you said.
he nodded like it was serious. “obviously.”
then, without warning, he lifted your hand and spun you once, slow and careful so you wouldn’t lose balance.
you stumbled a little anyway, laughing loudly. “hey!”
“see?” he said, stepping back into place with you still holding his hand. “now you’re dancing. that was the whole lesson.”
“you literally tricked me into spinning in circles.”
“and you liked it.”
you opened your mouth to argue—
but you were already smiling too much.
you groaned, covering your face with your free hand. “you’re so annoying.”
“and yet,” he said, leaning in slightly so your shoulders bumped, “you’re still here.”
you peeked at him through your fingers, eyes still bright. “yeah,” you admitted. “unfortunately.”
he laughed, then squeezed your hand again, softer this time.
“come on,” he said. “one more time. and this time try not to attack the choreography.”
“no promises.”
“that’s my girl.”
the door opened right as he said it.
harua and nicholas both walked in.
they stopped instantly.
harua tilted his head, looking between your linked hands and yuma’s very suspiciously red ears. “ohhh.”
nicholas immediately grinned like he’d just found entertainment for the entire week. “wow. we should’ve brought snacks.”
you both froze.
yuma straightened immediately—still holding your hand—but cleared his throat like he could professionally reset the universe.
harua leaned in a little, smiling sweetly. “are we interrupting something… or are you two just rehearsing the art of holding hands professionally?”
“we're practicing our choreography,” he said.
harua tilted his head. “with hand-holding?”
“it improves balance,” yuma added way too quickly.
nicholas nodded seriously. “ah. advanced technique.”
harua stepped a little closer, smiling sweetly. “and saying ‘that’s my girl’ is part of the choreography too?”
yuma froze for half a second.
“uhhh…it has emotional expression,” he said, recovering fast, but his ears were definitely turning pink now.
nicholas grinned. “oh this is worse. he’s explaining it.”
you started laughing immediately.
yuma glanced at you like he was betrayed by your amusement, but there was no real panic in it—just mild annoyance and fond embarrassment.
“you guys are distracting,” he said.
harua gasped lightly. “we are supporting the arts.”
nicholas nodded. “we are witnesses.”
“uninvited witnesses,” yuma muttered.
harua waved. “don’t worry, we’ll tell no one.”
nicholas added, “we’ll tell everyone.”
they left.
the door clicked shut.
you and yuma stood there for a second.
still holding hands.
then both of you broke into laughter at the exact same time.
“i hate them,” yuma said through his hands.
“you love them,” you corrected, still laughing.
he peeked at you, still red. “i also hate you a little right now.”
“liar.”
“…okay i don’t.”
and that just made both of you laugh harder again.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
✧ an award show waiting room, stolen pauses between chaos, and euijoo slipping into your space like it’s the only place he’s ever really belonged
✧ established idol x idol relationship, childhood friends to lovers, secret dating, soft angst, domestic fluff, clingy euijoo, backstage love | wc: ~2.2k
✧ author’s note: just euijoo being impossibly soft, slightly shameless, and completely in love with you in every timeline
the waiting room door slid shut behind you with a soft click.
finally quiet.
you dropped onto the couch with a long sigh, pulling the in-ear monitor from around your neck while staff members rushed noisily through the hallway outside. award show days were always like this — idols everywhere, cameras shoved in your face every five seconds, managers yelling about schedules, absolutely nowhere to breathe for longer than a minute.
a second later, someone nudged your knee with theirs.
“you look stressed,” a familiar voice said softly.
you didn’t even have to look up to know who it was.
euijoo sat beside you casually, baseball cap low over his eyes like he hadn’t just crossed three waiting rooms and dodged at least four managers to get here.
“you came all the way here just to call me out?” you whispered, exhausted amusement slipping into your voice.
euijoo smiled lazily. “i came all the way here because you stopped replying to me.”
“i was literally on stage.”
“you’ve texted me during live broadcasts before. i know your capabilities.”
you snorted quietly despite yourself.
“also,” he added, gently bumping your shoulder with his, “you do this thing when you’re stressed where you vanish for an hour… and then come back pretending you don’t need anybody.”
“you say that like you haven’t known me for fifteen years.”
“i have,” he replied easily. “which is why i’m right.”
you rolled your eyes, but your shoulder leaned into his before you could stop yourself.
it had always been like this with him.
easy.
like muscle memory.
long before debut stages and schedules and media training, there had been tiny matching backpacks at child modeling shoots, badly memorized mc scripts at kids’ variety shows, and adults constantly telling the two of you to stand closer together because you both “looked cute on camera.”
the internet still loved bringing up old clips.
tiny you and tiny euijoo sitting side-by-side on a brightly colored set while he shyly handed you strawberry milk because you’d started crying after losing a game.
tiny you fixing his crooked name tag before filming started because he always put them on unevenly.
people thought the two of you were nostalgic childhood friends who happened to debut in the same industry years later.
which technically wasn’t wrong.
it just wasn’t the whole truth.
“you know what happened earlier?” you muttered quietly after a moment.
euijoo hummed, leaning back against the couch. “hm?”
“one of the mcs asked me if we still talk.”
a laugh escaped him instantly. “no way.”
“and i told them we’re both busy these days and barely see each other anymore.”
euijoo went completely still.
then he slowly lowered the drink in his hand and stared at you like you’d personally betrayed him.
“barely see each other?” he repeated softly.
you shrugged, fighting a smile. “well—”
“you were in my kitchen this morning stealing food out of my fridge.”
“it always tastes better at your place.”
“and last night,” he continued, pointing at you accusingly now, “you called me at two in the morning because you ‘couldn’t sleep unless someone talked to you.’”
“i was having a hard time.”
“and i stayed awake until four.”
there was absolutely no annoyance in his voice—if anything, he sounded embarrassingly fond.
you nudged his foot with yours. “so dramatic.”
“i’m just saying,” he murmured, thumb brushing lightly over your skin, “if this is ‘barely talking,’ i think i’ve been yours without even realizing when it started.”
your heart betrayed you instantly at how natural that sounded coming from him.
not performative.
not dramatic.
just familiar.
the kind of care built quietly over years and years together.
across the hall, staff voices echoed closer.
instinctively, both of you shifted apart slightly.
years of hiding made the movement automatic now.
euijoo noticed your expression immediately.
his smile faded just enough to soften around the edges.
“you okay?” he asked quietly, voice gentler now. “you’ve had that look on your face all day.”
you stared down at your hands for a second before answering.
“yeah,” you murmured, a small, easy exhale leaving you. “i’m okay. i just think i’ve gotten used to you being important to me all the time, not just when it’s quiet.”
for a moment, he didn’t say anything.
then he glanced toward the closed door before carefully reaching over behind the couch armrest and linking his pinky with yours.
tiny.
hidden.
familiar enough to make your chest ache.
“you’re right. we’ve been doing this forever,” he murmured. “remember when that reporter asked if we were dating when we were twelve?”
you laughed under your breath immediately. “and you got so nervous you spilled juice everywhere.”
“i was fighting for my life.”
“you said—and i quote—‘we’re only friends because girls are scary.’”
“they were putting microphones in my face!”
you were trying so hard not to laugh loudly now that your shoulders shook against him.
euijoo watched you with the softest expression imaginable, completely distracted from the noise outside.
then, after a small pause—
“you still kept the bracelet, right?”
your breath caught instantly.
the bracelet.
a cheap little braided bracelet he won for you at a summer festival when you were fifteen after wasting nearly all his game tickets trying to get your favorite color.
blue string. slightly uneven because he insisted on fixing part of it himself.
you still had it tucked safely in your apartment drawer.
“…you remember that thing?”
euijoo looked genuinely offended.
“of course i remember it,” he said quietly. “you wore it until it started falling apart. you cried when it snapped.”
“i was fourteen.”
“you cried.”
“you made me another one!”
“and you still have that one too.”
you looked away immediately because he was right.
again.
euijoo smiled softly, thumb brushing once against your pinky.
“i remember everything about you,” he said, so casually it almost hurt. “i remember your old phone number. i remember the first thing you ever said to me on set. i remember you used to get nervous before filming and pretend you weren’t by talking too much.”
“…i hate when you’re observant.”
“you love when i’m observant.”
unfortunately, that was also true.
outside, someone called euijoo’s name down the hallway.
he sighed dramatically, head tipping back against the couch.
“if i ignore them long enough, do you think they’ll assume i disappeared?”
“your manager already thinks i steal you from your schedule.”
“she’s right.”
“euijoo.”
“i’m serious,” he said, smiling lazily now. “you’ve been distracting me since we were eight.”
“pretty sure you followed me around first.”
“because it was always you. even back then.”
your jaw dropped instantly.
“you cannot say things like that without warning.”
“i’ve been dating you for years. i think i’ve earned it.”
your face felt unbearably warm now.
euijoo grinned at the reaction before standing reluctantly, fixing his cap and hoodie sleeves.
then, very casually, he reached over and untangled the chain of your stage necklace where it had twisted during rehearsals.
such a tiny gesture.
but so practiced.
like he’d done it a hundred times before.
“you’ll come watch our stage later?” he asked softly, his fingers brushing briefly against your collarbone before pulling away.
“of course,” you said right away, a small smile forming. “I like watching you perform.”
euijoo’s gaze lingered on you for a second, warm and a little too knowing.
“you always say that,” he murmured.
“because it’s true.”
he hummed, like that satisfied him more than he wanted to admit.
“and you’ll be there after encore too,” he added casually, like it wasn’t a question.
“obviously,” you said, rolling your eyes a little—but you were smiling.
his expression shifted into something teasing again.
“good,” he said lightly, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. “just don’t look at me like that the whole time.”
“like what?” you asked.
“like you’re trying not to smile,” he replied, eyes flicking to yours. “you get this face when you’re proud of me.”
you went quiet for a second.
then, softer, “that’s because I am proud of you.”
his teasing softened at that, something warmer slipping in underneath it.
“yeah?” he murmured, like he already knew the answer.
He didn’t wait for you to respond—just leaned in, brushing a quick kiss to your forehead, soft and effortless like it had always belonged there.
And then he left before you could say anything else—still smiling to himself like he’d just heard exactly what he wanted to.
✧ meeting one of nicholas’ members for the first time feels like stepping into a new world—until you realize you fit into it more easily than you expected, and maybe you always have
✧ nicholas x fem!reader ft. euijoo | established relationship, fluff, romance, slice of life, meeting the members, comfort, casual banter, domestic softness | wc: 2,100+
✧ author’s note: i got way too soft writing this 😭 and euijoo was truly the cherry on top
you don’t think you’re nervous until nicholas opens the café door.
then, okay… maybe a little nervous.
not because of him—you’ve been dating nicholas long enough that his hand in yours feels like second nature now, like it just belongs there.
it’s the fact that you’re meeting one of his best friends for the first time.
“you’re fine,” nicholas murmurs, squeezing your hand once. “he literally asked to meet you.”
“that’s exactly why i need to be on my best behavior,” you say, way too seriously.
he laughs. “you don’t even have a worst behavior.”
“that’s not true,” you reply immediately. “i once got lost inside a building that had one hallway.”
nicholas pauses. “wait, that was this building. like just now.”
“exactly,” you say proudly.
he shakes his head like he’s already given up on you—but he’s smiling.
the story is simple: you were supposed to meet him outside the café. easy plan. very straightforward.
but you saw a sign that said “café entrance” and another that said “this way,” and your brain went, surely both lead to the same place.
they did not.
you ended up walking a full circle, briefly considered if you had entered a parallel universe, and then texted nicholas: i think the café is avoiding me.
he had to come find you.
which is why, now, he does not trust your sense of direction at all.
the café door opens.
and everything softens immediately.
euijoo is already there, standing when he sees you, polite but warm.
nicholas doesn’t even introduce you like it’s a big deal—it’s casual, easy—but his eyes still flick to you right after, like he’s checking your reaction.
you wave immediately. “hi, i’m the one who almost got lost in a straight line earlier.”
nicholas groans quietly. “you don’t have to start with that.”
euijoo blinks once.
then laughs.
not loud—just surprised, like he didn’t expect that to be the first thing he hears about you.
“you got lost here?” he asks.
“i didn’t get lost,” you correct confidently. “i explored aggressively.”
that makes him laugh again, properly this time.
and just like that, the tension is gone.
you sit down like you’ve known him already for a while, not carefully or shyly, but comfortably—leaning forward when you talk, smiling openly, completely unbothered.
euijoo picks up on that immediately, but he doesn’t make it a big thing. he just falls into the rhythm of the conversation with you like it’s the easiest thing in the world.
it’s easy.
nicholas leans back in his chair, watching both of you.
you end up drifting into easier conversation at first, talking about small things—random habits, how nicholas always loses his phone in the most obvious places, how you somehow end up talking faster when you’re excited.
euijoo listens like he’s quietly collecting all of it, amused but not interrupting.
at one point, you gesture at nicholas. “he also pretends he’s not dramatic, but he absolutely is.”
“i am not,” nicholas says immediately.
euijoo hums, looking between you two. “i think you’re both kind of dramatic.”
you gasp. “excuse you, i am extremely normal.”
that makes him laugh.
nicholas leans back with a small sigh. “i feel like i’m being outvoted in my own life right now.”
“you are,” you say simply.
“betrayed,” he mutters.
euijoo laughs again, shaking his head a little like he’s getting used to the dynamic already.
a little later, he looks at you again—still amused, still relaxed.
“do you always act like this?” he says casually, more like he’s just noticing a pattern than asking a question.
you pause mid-sip. “like what?”
he shrugs slightly. “just… relaxed. like you’re already comfortable.”
you grin. “should i be acting more nervous?”
“no,” he says almost immediately, like that wasn’t the point at all. then adds, a little lighter, “it’s just not what people usually do.”
nicholas listens quietly, watching you with a small smile.
you turn your head slightly. “what do people usually do?”
euijoo thinks for a second, then gestures loosely.
“overthink everything. try to be careful with what they say. stuff like that.”
you nod slowly. “yeah, that sounds exhausting.”
“it kind of is,” he admits.
you lean your chin in your hand, still smiling a little. “so what—i’m just not exhausting?”
nicholas lets out a quiet laugh beside you.
euijoo smiles, shaking his head slightly like the question doesn’t even really fit. “no, that’s not what i meant. you’re just easy to talk to.”
you brighten at that immediately. “good. because i don’t really know how to act differently anyway.”
nicholas glances at you. “yeah… that’s kind of the point.”
you look at him. “that sounds like an insult.”
“it’s not,” he says right away, way too fast to be convincing.
euijoo watches the two of you for a second like he’s just noticing how naturally this back-and-forth works between you, then leans back a little more comfortably in his chair.
“you two are kind of easy to be around,” he says instead, like it just slips out naturally rather than something he’s overthinking.
the words sit there for a second, simple and honest.
you smile a little. “i’ll take that as a good thing.”
“it is,” euijoo says easily.
nicholas doesn’t say anything right away, but his hand finds yours under the table like it’s automatic.
you don’t even look down at it anymore.
it’s just there.
part of the conversation.
the mood stays light after that.
you joke about still not trusting buildings with signs, euijoo casually says he’ll be your “official guide next time,” and you immediately go, “perfect, i need supervision,” like it’s a serious arrangement.
nicholas groans softly. “you’re enabling her.”
“i think she was already like this,” euijoo replies, amused.
“i was,” you confirm proudly.
nicholas looks betrayed. “why is everyone against me?”
“because you lost me in a hallway once,” you say.
“that was not—” he starts.
“it was,” you interrupt.
euijoo laughs again, properly this time, like he’s gotten used to the dynamic already.
then the conversation slows a little, softer now, like it naturally drifts.
euijoo glances between you and nicholas, a little more thoughtful this time.
“can i ask something?” he says casually.
you nod. “yeah, of course.”
he leans back slightly. “what’s it like for you… stepping into his world?”
you blink. “his world?”
“yeah,” euijoo says, still easy, not heavy. “like the idol side of things. schedules, attention, everything that comes with it. it’s not always simple for people around us.”
nicholas goes a little quieter beside you, not interrupting, just listening.
you think about it for a second, then shrug lightly.
“honestly?” you say. “it doesn’t really feel like i’m stepping into something separate.”
you lean back slightly, like it’s the most natural truth in the world to you. “well… i’m kind of dating him,” you say, softer now, but steady. “so it doesn’t really feel like i’m stepping into someone else’s world.” you pause for a second, then add gently, “it just feels like… i’m already where i’m supposed to be.”
that makes euijoo pause—not surprised, just reflective, like he’s sitting with your answer properly.
“yeah…” he says after a moment, nodding once. “i get that.”
nicholas looks at you then, quieter, like that answer settles something in him too.
the conversation slips back into something easy again after that, like it never paused at all.
eventually, time passes in that quiet way it does when you’re not really paying attention.
you only notice when you start finishing your drink.
you sit up a little. “oh—i should probably go soon.”
euijoo nods, standing up naturally. “yeah, i’ve got something after this too.”
you wave slightly. “thanks for meeting me, by the way.”
“i'm really glad i did,” euijoo says simply with a smile.
nicholas stands with you both.
when it’s time to actually leave, euijoo walks you to the door.
“next time,” he says casually, “you can pick a place that doesn’t require exploration.”
you gasp. “the exploration is part of the experience.”
he laughs. “i’ll remember that.”
you wave goodbye, still smiling to yourself.
and once you’re outside again with nicholas, the world feels normal again.
✧ a quiet walk home turns into something softer when feelings finally stop being hidden, and a simple question changes everything
✧ nicholas x fem!reader | fluff, romance, slice of life, mutual pining, first kiss | wc: 1,180
✧ author’s note: wait i can't stop writing nicho fluff LOL help (if you have requests pls send mee ahhh)
it starts like any other walk home.
the kind where your shoulders brush every now and then, and neither of you really says anything about it because it’s become normal now. comfortable. easy.
you’re talking a little more than usual today though—about something small, something you can’t even fully remember later, just laughing at your own words as you look up at him every few seconds to make sure he’s still listening.
and he is.
always is.
nicholas is looking at you like he likes hearing you talk. like he’s not just walking beside you, but actually there with you in every little thing you say.
you don’t notice when your steps slow down. or when his do too.
“you’re in a good mood,” he says eventually, voice soft, almost amused.
“i’m always in a good mood with you,” you reply without thinking.
it comes out so naturally that you don’t even realize what you said at first.
but he does.
he stops walking.
you blink. “what?”
he’s looking at you now—properly, fully—like he’s trying to figure out if you meant it the way it sounded.
and suddenly your heart feels way too aware of itself.
“…did i say something weird?” you ask, laughing a little, trying to cover the sudden nervousness blooming in your chest.
nicholas shakes his head slowly.
“no,” he says. but his voice is quieter now. “just honest.”
that makes you go a little shy, your fingers fiddling with the sleeve of your sweater.
“oh,” you say softly, looking away for a second. then, because you can’t stand silence for too long, you glance back up at him with a small smile. “well… it’s true.”
he exhales like that does something to him.
the air between you feels different now. not heavy—just closer. like the world narrowed down to the space between your shoulders.
“you always do that,” he says.
“do what?”
“say things like that… like you don’t realize what they sound like.”
you blink. “is that bad?”
a small smile appears on his face.
“no,” he says. “it’s just dangerous.”
that makes you laugh, a little flustered. “how is that dangerous?”
he doesn’t answer right away.
instead, he steps closer.
not fast. not sudden.
just enough that your laughter fades into something softer.
now you’re looking up at him properly, and he’s looking back at you like he’s decided something quietly.
your heart stumbles a little.
“nicholas?” you ask, quieter now.
“yeah?” he replies.
there’s a pause—small, but full.
then he lifts a hand, gently brushing a bit of hair away from your face like it’s the most natural thing in the world. his fingers linger for a second longer than necessary.
and you don’t move away.
“can i kiss you?” he asks softly.
your breath catches—but not in panic.
in something warm.
you nod before you even fully think about it.
“okay,” you say, small and honest and a little breathless.
that’s all it takes.
he leans in slowly, like he’s giving you time to change your mind even though you don’t want to. like he’s being careful with something he really doesn’t want to break.
the kiss is soft. gentle. a little unsure at first—but it settles quickly, like it was always supposed to feel this natural.
when he pulls back, it’s just enough to look at you again.
your face feels warm immediately, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close he still is.
but instead of pulling away, you just smile.
a little bright. a little shy. a little too happy to hide.
“…hi,” you say softly, like you don’t know what else to say.
nicholas lets out a quiet laugh, relieved and fond all at once.
“hi,” he replies.
and then, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, he reaches for your hand.
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