#nicholas fluff

“I want to learn Mandarin. Teach me Mandarin,”

You stand firmly in front of Nicholas, who’s scrolling on his phone while resting on the couch. Books clutched to your chest, lips pressed into a thin line and you put on the best serious face you have, to show determination. Nicholas looks up at you and chuckles, while putting his phone away.

“You come into my house, no greetings, and now demand me to teach you Mandarin? What next, you hold me hostage?”

“Nicol~”

You begin whining – you had been asking your boyfriend to teach you Mandarin, but he was somewhat… reluctant. He would let you know some words, which are kinda vague and basic, but it doesn’t satisfy you. You want to learn. You want to fully understand. 

“Okay, baby. Why do you want to learn Mandarin?”

“Because I want to understand you,”

You replied while pouting. Nicholas always talks in Mandarin whenever he’s on the phone with his family and Taiwanese friends – sometimes he would laugh to tears while talking, and you feel a bit jealous (or more to fear of missing out, actually) as you can’t understand him. And when he does explain the joke, there’s a language barrier, so you don’t find it as funny as him.

“Wrong. You should never learn something for a man. You should learn because you want to,”

“Babyyyy,”

“Mhm, nope. Go home and fix your intention first,”

You huffed and began glaring at your boyfriend, but he’s unaffected by it – he picked up his phone and began to lean his back onto the stacked pillow, getting really comfortable on the couch.

You gritted your teeth.

Fine.

You put your things on the floor before you launch yourself on top of him, making Nicholas groan. You then hold his face firmly while glaring at him, trying to appear as scary as you can, but only earns a string of giggles from Nicholas as he finds you cute.

“Teach me!”

“Okay, okay. Wo ai ni. That’s your word for today,”

“That’s– That’s basic! I know wo ai ni, hell, everyone in the world knows what it is. I even know the difference between wo ai ni and wo xihuan ni,”

Nicholas’s eyebrows quirked up, finding your words interesting.

“Really? What’s the difference?”

He asks while adjusting both of your positions so you wouldn’t easily fall, and the two of you can fit and be comfortable on the couch.

“Well, wo ai ni means I love you, while wo xihuan ni means I like you. But people don’t really use wo ai ni since it’s more… meaningful? Like Shakespeare's level of confession? So everyone just use wo xihuan ni to express themselves,”

“Then, which one would you use? To me,”

“Wo xihuan ni,”

You proudly say – you went into a reddit rabbithole to study the difference (you were bothered that the main lead in the c-drama you’re watching uses wo xihuan ni instead of wo ai ni). Nicholas’s lips curled into a soft smile while he gently cups your cheeks, and you think, finally, you had impressed your boyfriend and he would be teaching you Mandarin.

“That’s too bad. I would use wo ai ni though,”

Your eyes grow wide and you can feel your heart beat begin to pound against your chest.

“B-But, it’s–”

“I know. I’m a Mandarin native speaker, love,”

Nicholas drops a kiss on your lips, flustering you further – wo ai ni, wo ai ni is used between the married couple, your mind rings. Wo ai ni is used when the love runs deeply.

Nicholas loves you deeply.

“Red looks really good on you, baby,”

Nicholas said while giggling as he pressed his forehead against you, teasing your blushing state. Your lips tremble as you find words to retaliate, but your haywired brain can’t process anything, so you lightly punch him on his shoulder instead. Your actions caused Nicholas to giggle further, before he kissed your forehead.

“I’ll teach you, love. But not now,”

Your body limps in defeat and pout forms on your lips again.

“Why?”

“Just because it’s fun to rile you up like this,”

Nicholas replies while caressing your hair, and you grits your teeth before letting out the loudest ‘humph!’, sulking over your boyfriend.

“I’ll buy you chocolates and flowers,”

“Not gonna work,”

“Really? Then I’ll have to pull out my hidden card then,”

“That’s not going to work too,”

“You sure? My hidden card is that I already bought tickets to the concert you want to go,”

Your eyes widened – how did he get those tickets? It was sold out, and both of you were doing ticketing at the same time.

“You’re lying,”

“No, baby. Fuma got us the tickets. Experienced gamers really have a knack and luck in buying tickets,”

“I love you!”

You said while hugging Nicholas tightly, and Nicholas giggled over how quick you switched sides.

“I love you too,”

He confesses, and drops another kiss on the crown of your head. It’s not like he doesn’t want to teach you, but you tend to be very witty, so if you overheard his conversation, you might able to piece the puzzles together, and he can’t let you do that.

He can’t let you know about his plan to bring you home.

Oh, and his plan on marrying you too.

additional notes: I did go into a rabbit hole on reddit to know the differences between wo ai ni and wo xihuan ni... I might be wrong still so take this fic with a grain of salt! thank you for reading until the end <3

“fake-date, y/n. fake,” he clarifies.

you snort. “you really need to grow up. fake-dating someone to make someone else jealous is such a middle-school thing to do.”

“i’m not–” nicholas frantically shakes his head. “what? i’m not trying to make anyone jealous! i just really don’t want to bother my parents’ questions tomorrow. and i’m afraid my mom might try to set me up with a random girl if i don’t show up with anyone in the next two months.”

“with my functioning ears, i’m telling you that sounds like a you problem,” you say with a raised eyebrow. nicholas opens his mouth to counter, but you’re faster. “just tell them you’re not into girls,” you suggest, breaking out in laughter as the expression on his face turns from irritation to bewilderment.

“you’re actually the worst best friend ever,” nicholas mumbles after a while of just staring at you in disbelief. he crosses his arms in front of his chest and slowly sinks deeper into the sofa cushions, and honestly, the way he’s pursing his lips in a small pout, almost breaks you. but the idea of dating nicholas, even just for show, makes your throat tight and your palms sweaty. 

you don’t have much time to think about it, however, as nicholas’s head suddenly whips in your direction, his eyes squinted in a way you know all too well. 

“don’t look at me like that, you look stupid,” you try to joke, while in reality, you pray he didn’t develop superpowers to hear your heartbeat quickening ridiculously much.

“i got it,” he says, the earlier pout on his lips now replaced by a sly grin. “either you help me, or i’ll ask yuma what you talked to him about.”

that does it. your eyes widen, and either it looks so ridiculous that nicholas has to laugh, or he’s just super proud of having come up with something that finally seems to work (it’s probably a mix of both).

“are you blackmailing me?” your question is supposed to sound funny, but if you’re honest to yourself, it comes out more scared than anything else. 

“as my best friend, you’re not even supposed to keep secrets from me. besides that, i don’t get what’s there that you can tell yuma but not me,” he replies. and he’s not trying to sound anyhow bothered by the fact that you confined in someone else. scratch that, he isn’t affected by that. it’s just weird. because he knows everything about you, even the most embarrassing things. in fact, he was there when most of them happened. 

you open your mouth, but you don’t say anything. maybe because you’re afraid that it might turn out to be the truth, or maybe – probably – because if the roles were reversed, you’d feel equally irritated, or whatever it is that nicholas can’t hide from his face, although he seems like he’s trying. 

so you give in with nothing but a murmured ‘fine’.

nicholas’s eyebrows shoot up, as if he’s actually surprised that you agree. for a moment, he looks at you, waiting for you to change your mind. but when you don’t, he smiles brightly. 

“you’re the best!”

you furrow your brows. “not even five minutes ago, i was the worst.”

“whatever,” nicholas dismisses with a wave of his hand. “you should wear that one yellow sundress, it looks cute on you,” he says, already half-immersed in whatever he’s seeing on his phone.

and there it is. the little thud of your heart, so deep you can feel it in your stomach, whenever nicholas says something so casually as if it didn’t turn your world upside down for a moment. 

“don’t call me cute again or i’ll throw up,” you say. and honestly, you’re not even lying.

nicholas rolls his eyes, though he doesn’t look up from his phone. “it makes your collarbones stand out nicely, and it goes well with your hair.”

“my collarbones?” you ask, clearly taken aback. this time, it’s nicholas’s heart that does the little thud. he looks up from his phone, only to catch you looking at him with a face he, for once, cannot decipher. “you’re looking at my collarbones?”

“i–...yes? i told you you should get your ears checked.”

“you should get your eyes checked!” you defend. “why are you looking at my collarbones?”

“hey, i pay attention when it comes to fashion,” he says casually, though deep down he’s wondering if it’s odd to notice those things, let alone point them out like it’s nothing.

“weirdo.”

if someone were to tell you that one day, you’d be driving back to your hometown with your best friend turned college roommate, just to fake-date him in front of his parents, whom you’ve known since practically forever, you’d laugh at them. but as nicholas pulls into the driveway, nothing feels funny. 

“isn’t it gonna be weird?” you ask when he turns off the engine. 

nicholas shrugs. “only if you make it weird.”

“great, thanks. no pressure at all,” you mumble in an annoyed tone.

“y/n, it’s gonna be fine. you know them. they know you, more importantly,” nicholas reassures, but you sigh.

“as your best friend, not your girlfriend.”

“same thing, basically,” he shrugs, “act like you always do. just maybe a bit more… i don’t know. affectionate. maybe don’t call me an asshole.”

“you are an asshole.”

nicholas rolls his eyes. “and you’re the reason we’re gonna be late. don’t overthink it, okay? they won’t even ask questions.”

before you can argue, he steps out of the car, waits for you to do the same, and walks toward the front door. 

“we should hold hands,” he suggests after ringing the bell.

“did you even wash yours? because i swear, i saw you scratching your ass earlier, and if you–”

when the door swings open, you don’t know if it’s that which caused the words to get stuck in your throat or if it’s the sudden warmth of nicholas’s hand around yours. he gently intertwines his fingers with yours, greeting his mom with a big smile.

at first, his parents are surprised. nicholas shakes his head when you whisper-shout at him if he didn’t inform them beforehand, which earns him a painful squish of his hand from you. he announces that he actually brought you as his girlfriend this time, and his mom goes on a ramble about how she was sure for years. but at some point, her words sound muffled, your focus almost fully on the way nicholas’s hand feels against yours, and how, for some reason, they seem to fit perfectly into each other.

you don’t even really register how you take off your shoes by the doorway and make it to the kitchen. the only thing you know is that nicholas’s hand rests against your waist, guiding you as if you haven’t been to his house so many times you couldn’t count on both hands, even if you used them twice. 

“so, how long have you two been dating?” his mother’s question snaps you out of your trance.

“two months.” – “about three weeks.” you both say in unison.

“we uh…had our two-month anniversary three weeks ago. so, three months. practically,” nicholas stammers. 

he reaches for his napkin on the table to awkwardly fidget with the piece of paper. and for a reason unknown to yourself, you think it’s a good idea to place your hand on top of his and gently curl your fingers around it to stop his movement. 

nicholas’s hand twitches, almost as if he wants to pull back – and, for god’s sake, he wishes he could. because why on earth does your skin feel so damn soft against his, and why does it make his palms even sweatier than they were before?

he quickly glances over to you, your eyes straight ahead, and your lips curled up in a smile that looks more like a grimace than anything else. swallowing, he slowly starts to rub his thumb over your knuckles as if that could calm your nerves. but in reality, it only makes your heart beat so fast it might as well jump right out of your chest. 

it feels like an eternity, but slowly, the two of you grow more comfortable in your roles. nicholas continues to breathe, even when you reach out to wipe sauce from the corner of his mouth, and you finally stop feeling like throwing up whenever he rests his hand on your thigh. by the time you say goodbye, it feels almost good to wear the jacket he offers you, although the car is just eight and a half steps away.

a few days after the more or less disastrous dinner with nicholas’s parents, the two of you are lounging on the sofa, watching some show on the tv that neither of you really pays attention to. he’s typing away on a long overdue assignment while you just doomscroll through every possible app, mostly to focus on anything that’s not nicholas (you swear, you can even hear him breathing from across the sofa at this point).

you’d like to say that by now, things have gone back to normal between the two of you. because technically, they kind of have, but then again, not really. because yes, you’re back to your normal routine. but no, it does not feel normal. now, nicholas does not reach for your hand – that’s self-evident. and you’re happy about that, because that means your heart isn’t running a marathon. but you also kind of want him to do it again. just to prove that the reason for your short-circuit back at his parents’ place was nerves and had nothing to do with him, of course. 

you don’t have much time to overthink it, however, because the loud ringtone of nicholas’s phone on the coffee table startles you so much it feels like you’re kicked back to the moment.

nicholas is quick to shove his laptop off his thighs and reach for his phone, probably damn thankful he’s got an excuse to take a break. but he’s not even halfway through saying hi when he’s interrupted.

“is y/n with you?” you make out maki’s voice on the other end of the line. nicholas looks at you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“yeah, why? let me know if you’re gonna say something gross, so i’ll step out,” nicholas says, amusement lacing his words. now, you raise an eyebrow as if that alone could remind him of how he made you hold his hand in front of his parents' door, and of how you still don’t know if he had washed it before or not. 

“no, actually put me on speaker,” maki instructs, only continuing once nicholas signals he has done so.

“you two are so fake,” he says dramatically, “first, you come back home for a day without saying a single word about it, and now you're also dating?”

your eyes shoot from the phone back to nicholas, only to find him mirroring your shocked expression entirely.

“what do you mea–” he begins, but maki cuts him off.

“i ran into your mom in the supermarket and she asked me how long we’ve known you’re together. i can’t believe you finally–”

nicholas’s almost hysterical cough cuts off the rest of maki’s sentence.

“sorry,” he says, voice strained so strangely that it sounds almost fake, “choked on my saliva.”

if it weren’t for the situation, you’d probably laugh or shoot him a mock-disgusted glare, but with maki complaining on the other end of the line, you just give nicholas a blank stare. you try to think fast – try to come up with something you could say to explain the, objectively speaking, very simple truth behind everything. but your brain feels like it’s running twenty tabs in fucking internet explorer, half of them frozen, and none of them letting you close the window. 

“... you two better get your asses back here next weekend and explain. it’s been almost three months and not even euijoo knew a thing.”

that brings back your attention.

“euijoo?” you ask, swallowing slowly, “did you… did you talk to the others, too?”

“hell no!” maki fires back, and although he sounds offended, his answer lifts the little weight in your chest. “that’s your job.” 

with that, he hangs up before either of you has time to respond. once the line goes silent, the living room does so too. you both stare at each other, faces blank, and while nicholas looks paler than usual, you can feel your face heating up. neither of you speaks for a while, until you both open your mouths.

“we’re telling them the truth,” you say.

“please, let’s just lie to them, too,” nicholas says at the same time. 

“no!” both your voices echo through the living room again.

nicholas rubs a hand over his face, and you can hear him groaning, the sound somewhere between annoyance and despair. 

“this is stupid,” he mumbles against his hand. 

“the whole idea was stupid, nicholas. i’ said that before, just for the record,” you say, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

nicholas sighs, and brings his fingers up to dramatically massage his temples. “you’re not being helpful, y/n.”

“helpful would have been to never agree to that in the first place,” you grumble.

he slumps against the sofa cushions. “my mom’s gonna find out.” the words come a little quieter this time, almost sulky.

“she would eventually,” you say matter-of-factly, ignoring the way he glances at you from the corner of his eye. “or did you plan on lying to her forever?”

“hey, i’m committed,” he says, though it doesn’t sound half as funny as he intended.

“yeah, i’m committed too. to the mental institution, if you keep up with your nonsense,” you deadpan.

 “please?” he turns to properly face you now, lips pursed in a small pout that you’d love to smack off his face. because how does just that turn even his usually so sharp eyes soft?

“nicholas, our whole friend group thinks we’re together,” you whine once you forced your eyes away from his lips.

“that was kinda the point of fake-dating you.”

you furrow your brows. “the point was to get your mom off your back, not for our friends to think the same. it’s much better to tell them the truth right away.”

nicholas opens his mouth to oppose, but you’re quicker.

“just tell them to shut up if they ever randomly run into your parents again.”

“but i know they can’t lie if their lives depended on it,” he opposes in this sulky, whiny tone that makes you want to flick his forehead.  “and my mom seemed genuinely happy thinking we’re dating. i know, it seemed awkward, but i saw how she smiled and all. and she already texted me for christmas plans with you, and it’s only august! i–... i don’t know. i don’t want to ruin that.”

sighing, you reach out to give his hand a gentle, yet comforting squeeze. “you should have thought about that before, nico,” you say softly, as if he’d break if you were to speak differently.

“i know. i just didn’t think she’d be so happy,” he admits, and the way the words come out pulls at your heartstrings. because for once in a long time, probably ever since nicholas has been your best friend, he sounds genuinely defeated. “listen, i’m not trying to guilt you into it, okay? if you really want to tell them the truth, i’ll find another way–”

“no,” you interrupt him, making him look at you with wide eyes. “we’ll keep it up. but only until you grow balls and tell them.”

your words draw a small chuckle from him, but you give him a more serious look. “i’m not joking, nicholas. it won’t be hard to tell the guys, but you really have to figure out how to come clean to your mom. it’s not nice letting her believe a lie just ‘cause you don’t want to hurt her temporarily.”

when he looks up from his fumbling hands, his face softens slightly. he gives you just the ghost of a lopsided smile, before nodding slowly, the look in his eyes kind of telling you that he’s thankful, though he doesn’t say it.

“you should write guidebooks,” he jokes instead.

“if i wrote a guidebook, my first advice would be to shove you off a cliff.”

“look who finally decided to grace us with their presence,” maki exclaims once you and nicholas settle next to your friends in a booth at your go-to diner.

“and maki said you brought news,” yudai grins, already making your stomach flip around before you even really said hello. “so, spill.”

you turn your head towards nicholas, trying to wordlessly signal him to speak. because, honestly, even if you wanted to, your throat feels too tight to get out a single word. he looks back at you, swallows lightly, takes a deep breath, and reaches for your hand to demonstratively intertwine his fingers with yours.

you catch jo and harua exchanging a quiet glance, and fuma trying (and failing) to hold back a grin, even before nicholas speaks.

“we’re uh…” nicholas begins, “we’re dating.”

“dating? since when?” euijoo asks almost immediately, eyebrow shooting up in a poor attempt to hide that maki already told him the entire story.

“i knew it!” harua declares proudly before either of you can answer euijoo’s question. “so much for sharing rent just to save on bills.”

fuma chuckles. “yeah, moving in and immediately jumping into a relationship.”

“that’s not the only thing he jumped into,” taki chimes in with an amused grin that’s quickly wiped off his face as yudai, terrified expression on his face, smacks the back of his head. he mutters something under his breath, probably scolding the younger for his choice of words – or mindset, in the first place – while taki and maki just giggle. 

nicholas is halfway through denying taki’s assumption when you, for the first time since you arrived, lock eyes with yuma. he’s leaned back in his seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyebrows slightly furrowed, and head tilted to the side just enough for you to notice. you feel your hand getting sweaty underneath nicholas’s, despite the cold shiver that’s running down your spine. and you pray yuma doesn’t say anything – but his words come out before you even register him opening his mouth.

“what happened to–” he flinches mid-sentence as you sharply kick his shin under the table.

but everyone already looks at him expectantly. you keep staring at yuma, widening your eyes in a way you hope tells him to shut up, when you feel nicholas’s eyes ping-ponging back and forth between the two of you.

“to what?” he asks tentatively after a moment of silence.

“nothing,” you reply quickly. you swear you can feel his fingers twitch, almost as if he’s holding himself back from either holding your hand tighter or pulling away entirely. and honestly, you don’t know what you’d prefer. 

“come on,” yudai whines, “you can’t start a sentence like that and not finish it.”

“especially since y/n attacked you for it,” maki adds with a mocking grin. it could have been funny, if it had been just for everyone’s complaints and exaggerated groans, but the sharp glare nicholas shoots yuma doesn’t really make either of you want to laugh.

“yuma,” he says sternly.

you quickly shake your head no, but yuma just gives you an apologetic look.

“i was just asking what happened to the guy she was gonna go on a date with,” he mumbles.

your eyes immediately land on the table, and although you don’t look at nicholas, you know he’s tensing up, even if just slightly. his jaw tightens, and the way his hand curls around yours a little harder make his veins pop out just a bit. the table goes silent again.

“what guy?” nicholas asks after a moment, voice tight, though he tries to sound casual. all the time he’s been dying to know what it was that you talked about with yuma – but now that he does know, he wishes he didn’t.

“no one,” you mumble, thumb subconsciously swiping over nicholas’s knuckles. “i didn’t go, end of the story.”

he wants to ask – who you wanted to go on a date with, why you wanted to go on a date with him, most importantly, why the hell he, as your best friend, wasn’t aware – but then again, he doesn’t really want to know. 

seconds pass, maybe a minute, though it feels like an eternity, before yuma breaks the silence again.

“so, who eventually said it first?”

“huh?” both yours and nicholas’s head whip up to him.

“when you told me you liked nicholas, you said you were gonna wait for him to say something first,” yuma shrugs as if his words didn’t make the air catch in your throat. nicholas turns his head around to face you with what seems like the speed of light, but before he can even really register what yuma said, maki breaks into laughter.

“no way! nicholas said the same thing. word by word,” he exclaims.

now, it’s your head that shoots up. your gaze meets his, eyes equally widened in shock, while the others continue to speculate about who was the one to confess first. 

“nicholas?” you mumble, and you don’t mean it as an answer, but they take it as one anyways.

“i knew it would be nico. i won,” harua grins, holding his hand out in front of jo, who sighs and takes out his wallet. only when the others laugh at the scene do you break eye contact with nicholas and look at them.

“what in the–” nicholas begins.

“jo said y/n would said it first. i bet on you. thank you for not being a wuss for once,” he says proudly while taking the bill from jo.

“i’m not a– wait, did you tell them?” nicholas looks back and forth between yuma and maki.

“no need to,” fuma cuts in with a gentle smile, “you two were kinda very obvious.”

“since when?” nicholas asks later that night when you’re sitting on the sofa, head on his shoulder while his arm rests behind you on the sofa.

“i don't know exactly,” you admit quietly, only lifting your head to look at him when he doesn’t reply. you’re half expecting him to have fallen asleep, but he just looks at you with a blank expression. “don’t act like you do.”

“year 10,” he says immediately. “we had chemistry. the class, not chemistry chemistry. well, maybe we had a bit of that too”

you roll your eyes, though it’s just routine and an attempt to not acknowledge how long your best friend has been liking you for rather than actual annoyance. “we did not. i had a crush back then.”

“on a guy named chad,” nicholas snorts.

“hey, he was good-looking!” you defend, yet you can’t hold back a chuckle.

“your have bad taste.”

“now i like you,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “so what does that say about yourself?”

now, it’s nicholas’s turn to roll his eyes. “anyways. we were doing this experiment and you messed up and something exploded in your glass. and i heard you scream. and for the first time, i felt equally amused and terrified. and then you laughed it off with that adorable giggle of yours that i never really noticed until then,” he starts rambling, completely oblivious to the way your heart flatters, “that’s kinda when i noticed.”

“nico,” you mumble his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. and in that moment, it honestly is. you look at him with big eyes that make him want to wrap his arms around you and never let go again. 

“that’s around three years ago, i… i had no idea.”

he chuckles softly and puts your head back on his shoulder. “well, like i said, i wasn’t gonna tell you. didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

you want to give a snarky remark, but for once, none comes to your mind. and nicholas knows, because he laughs again. “now that you’re not talking back for once, i think it was already worth it.”

“fuck you.”

“you wish,” he grins, earning himself a slap on his arm.

“you’re annoying,” you grumble, although you already scoot closer to him again.

“and you’re in love with me.”

you ignore his remark, just snuggle into him as he lies back and wraps his arms around your torso to pull you against him properly. you place your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, while he traces soft, careful circles on your back.

“i’m sorry for not saying anything sooner,” he mumbles, fingers slowly tracing up to tangle in your hair. “if i had known you felt the same–... or if i hadn’t been a coward, we could have… i should have–”

“nicholas,” you interrupt, “stop being sappy and shut up.”

“i liked you better when you were speechless.”

you pop up your head and place your chin on his chest so you can look at him. “you like me either way.”

he just offers you a soft smile as he tucks one loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“touché.”

© lovelyjuju, 2024. please don't copy, translate, or post on any other platforms. find my other works here

Some more proofs included, but not limited to, the way both of you instinctively shifted away in crowded rooms, shoulders angling just enough to carve out space. The way your expressions would flicker, barely there, but identical, when someone reached too casually for your hair (usually Euijoo). The shared look, sharp and fleeting, that said don’t without either of you having to speak.

The first time someone had called you two cute, you’d both reacted at the exact same second. A pause, a slow blink and then matching frowns, almost synchronized.

“I’m not cute,” you’d said, flatly.

“Neither am I,” Nicholas added, just as dry.

Yudai had laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You’d rolled your eyes, Nicholas had scoffed.

However, to this strict rule of the banning of the word ‘cute’, there was one exception, as there always is to all laws of the word.

“Cute.” Nicholas said, his hands coming up to pinch your cheeks, which you nearly avoided. 

It was a lazy Saturday evening, both of you had done nothing all day except show each other the occasional tiktok and go back to doomscrolling or reading a book. Even Nicholas, usually so full of zest on his free days was dead as a fish today, as proved by the long (and long meant long) nap with his head plopped right on your chest.

You’d decided to finally get up and do something other than rotting in bed. Which had led to Nicholas waking up at 5 pm to an empty bed. At first, it didn’t register, his hand moving instinctively, reaching for his beloved. His brows knit slightly as his fingers brushed against nothing but wrinkled sheets. With a groan, Nicholas had pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair as he blinked the sleep away.

He had found you by following the faint sounds from the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, leaning against it with his arms crossed. For a moment, he didn't say anything, just watching you. 

You were standing by the counter, focused, completely unaware of him. There was flour dusted lightly across your fingers, a faint smudge near your wrist. Your hair was tied back loosely, a few strands falling out around your face.

And you were wearing his shirt. It hung a little too big on you, the neck slipping off slightly exposing your shoulder, the hem brushing mid-thigh.

There was something about the scene that made his chest feel strange. Fuller than usual. There was something oddly calming about it—the rhythm in which you danced around the kitchen, the quiet clinks of utensils, the faint hum of the oven preheating in the background. Nicholas exhaled quietly.

Cute. 

You didn’t even get the chance to react before he moved, his steps silent as a cat’s, quick despite the lingering drowsiness. One second you were alone and the next—

You let out a small squeak of surprise as you felt the sudden heat of Nicholas' body against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. His lips pressed against your neck, soft and warm, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Hi baby." Nicholas murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. He nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. "Something smells good."

You huffed out a laugh, leaning back into his embrace even as you tried to focus on the task at hand. "It's supposed to be cookies," you said, holding up the wooden spoon in your hand. "But I don't know if I'm doing it right. The dough is so sticky."

Nicholas chuckled, his hands smoothing over your stomach as he peered over your shoulder at the bowl of cookie dough. "Looks good to me," he said, reaching out to snag a small bit of dough with his fingers. He popped it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

"Mmm, yeah, that's good," he said, nodding in approval. "You're doing great, cutie."

You felt a little surge of pride at his words, even as you rolled your eyes at the unusual nickname. "Don't call me that," you muttered, but there was no real heat behind it.

Nicholas just laughed, pressing another kiss to your neck. "Sorry, sorry," he said. "What should I call you then? Chef Extraordinaire? Mistress of the Oven?"

You snorted, shaking your head. "Shut up," you said, but you were grinning. "Just help me with these cookies, would you?"

Nicholas smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Of course, my love," he said, his tone exaggeratedly formal. "I live to serve."

You couldn't help but laugh at that, even as you elbowed him lightly in the stomach. "Ass," you muttered, but you were still smiling. Nicholas just laughed again, leaning down to nip playfully at your ear. 

"You love me," he said, his voice a low, teasing murmur.

“Hmm unfortunately I do.” You said, even as you felt your cheeks heat up, “And would you stop eating the cookie dough?” You tried (and failed) to elbow him away as he put yet another fingerful of cookie dough into his mouth.

“Not my fault my baby bakes such delicious things.” Nicholas hummed, burying his face into the crook of your neck. You rolled your eyes again.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Yixiang.” He winced at the sound of his government name, “Go sit down.” 

“No.”

“Nicholas.”

“Too tired.”

“You literally just woke up.”

“Exactly.”

You turned your head slightly, giving him a look, which he met lazily. He looked handsome as always, his hair still messy from rolling out of bed, eyes closed blissfully as he melted into the warmth of his lover. You stared at him for a while, utterly startstuck. All these years of dating and you still could never get used to how beautiful he was.

“Go pick a movie,” you said in a flat tone, “and I’ll be there before you know it, alright?”

That, apparently, was acceptable, because a few minutes later, he was sprawled across the couch, scrolling through Netflix with the same level of intensity he had applied to absolutely nothing else that day. By the time you finished with the cookies, he still hadn’t picked one.

What ever were you going to do with your handsome, lazy ass of a boyfriend?

“You’ve been there for ten minutes.”

“Shh, I'm thinking. This is important.”

“It’s really not, baby.”

He ignored you, even as you set the tray down, pulling your hair loose with a quiet sigh. And eventually, although thankfully would be a more appropriate word, a movie was chosen.

Which led to this.

Your couch was an unnaturally big one, courtesy of Nicholas’s sweet talking at IKEA to buy the extra large plushy one so that you could cuddle easily and….do other stuff. 

But even with all that space on your big luxurious king sized couch, you and your boyfriend were still stuck to each other like glue. Not that either of you seemed to mind.

You were tucked into his side, one leg thrown over his, your shoulder pressed lightly against his chest. It wasn’t something you would’ve done with anyone else, not this easily or naturally. But with him, it didn't feel like too much. His arm rested loosely around you, not quite holding you, but there. The movie played like background noise, neither of you really focused on it.

The rhythm of his chest moving up and down as he breathed was lulling you to sleep. That combined with the way he felt so warm and the way his fingers were lazily massaging your scalp was about to make you fall asleep right there and then.

Nicholas glanced down at you once. Then again. And again. His loving gaze lingered longer each time, taking in the way your expression shifted slightly with the scenes, even if you weren’t fully paying attention, the way your fingers absentmindedly played with the edge of his sleeve, the way his shirt hung on you. It was too big, too beautiful and way too—

“Cute.”

As Nicholas's hands came up to your cheeks, you instinctively leaned back, but his fingers were quick, grasping your face gently but firmly. His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones as he pinched, his touch soft and warm.

“Stoppp…” you whined, brows furrowing in annoyance, but you couldn't quite muster up the energy to really protest properly. 

Maybe it was because it was Nicholas, or maybe it was because you were just too comfortable, curled up against his side on the couch. Either way, you let him have his moment of cuteness, even as you grumbled under your breath.

Nicholas just chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through his chest and into yours. "I'm serious, you're so cute baby." he insisted, his voice a little teasing but also a little fond. "You look good in my shirt."

You glanced down at yourself, taking in the sight of Nicholas' blue shirt. You had to admit, it was a good look. But you weren't about to let Nicholas know that.

"Cute." you scoffed, trying to sound unimpressed even as a small, reluctant smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "You’re really about to break our number one rule?”

“Of course I am.” Nicholas smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief, “Because my baby is sooooo cute.” He leaned down to press a kiss on the crown of your head, “My cute darling.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but laugh at his dramatics. "Shut up," you said, shoving lightly at his chest. "Or you’re going to be on the other side real soon.”

“Oh no I’m so scared.” Nicholas grinned, clearly enjoying your misery, “You’re still cute you know. Especially when you’re blushing like that.” He said, giving your cheeks one last pinch before releasing your face.

You felt your cheeks heat up even more at his words, and you quickly looked away, trying to hide your embarrassment. Nicholas just laughed again, pulling you in closer to his side.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice softening. "I won't tell anyone that my tough girlfriend gets all flustered over a little teasing."

You huffed again, but you couldn't quite suppress the small smile that pulled at your lips. "Shut up," you muttered, even as you snuggled in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

Nicholas just wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as he turned his attention back to the movie. But you could still feel the smile on his face, and you knew that he was probably going to bring up this moment again later, when he was trying to get a rise out of you. But for now, you were content to just sit there with him, feeling warm and safe and happy in his arms.

But the next attack that followed was probably your fault—you should have known when Wang Yixiang wants something, he’ll do everything he can to get it.

Especially when that something involves his girlfriend’s pretty smile.

“Nicho!” 

You let out a squeal of laughter that seemed to fill the room. Nicholas's attacks were relentless, his lips and teeth and tongue leaving a trail of tingling sensations across your skin. His hands gripped your waist, holding you in place on his lap now, as he continued his assault on your face and neck.

"Stop, stop!" you gasped out between giggles, trying to push him away. But your efforts were weak, your hands slipping against his chest as you dissolved into laughter again.

But Nicholas just grinned, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he continued his assault. "Come on, just admit it," he said, his voice muffled against your skin. "You're cute. The cutest."

You huffed, trying to glare at him even as you continued to giggle. "I am not!" you protested, even as you found yourself smiling like an idiot. "And stop using that word!"

Nicholas just laughed, his hands sliding down to tickle your sides. "Cute, cute, cute," he chanted, his fingers dancing over your ribs. "My cute girlfriend is so cute."

“Ahh stop it tickles!” You yelped, squirming even more as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp. 

Nicholas just grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement. "Never." He declared, before diving back in to attack your jawline with quick, fluttering kisses.

You shook your head, trying to catch your breath as you reached up to grip his hair. "Cute…" you managed to get out, your voice breathless and shaking with laughter. "You’re so cute Nicho..”

He froze for a moment, his lips paused in their ministrations against your neck. Then, slowly, he lifted his head to look at you. His expression was a mix of surprise and delight, his eyes wide and his mouth curved into a soft, almost awed smile

"Did you just call me cute?" he asked, his voice soft and somewhat disbelieving.

You felt your cheeks heat up again, but you held his gaze, trying to look unimpressed even as a small, reluctant smile tugged at your mouth. "Mhm," you hummed, nodding slowly. "You're cute when you're like this." You leaned in to press a small kiss to the tip of his nose, “My cute boyfriend.”

Nicholas's smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Well, I guess I can't argue with that," he said, his voice a low, teasing murmur. "Especially since you're the one who said it."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't quite suppress the grin that was threatening to split your face. “You’re still annoying.” You muttered, even as you pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 

He just laughed, the sound warm and happy against your mouth. "And you're still cute," he replied, his arms tightening around you.

Your beloved’s lips moved against yours, soft and slow and oh-so-sweet. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer until your chest pressed against his.

You hummed softly, your fingers threading through his hair as you deepened the kiss. Nicholas made a quiet sound of approval, his tongue sliding against yours in a slow, sensual dance.

“You taste like chocolate.” You chuckled against his lips. He had eaten one too many cookies.

“Don’t I always taste this sweet, baby?” HIs hands slid up your back, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

You felt like you were melting into him, your body going soft and pliant as he held you. His kisses were drugging, slow and deep and utterly consuming. You felt like you could kiss him forever and never get enough.

Nicholas sighed softly, his breath mingling with yours as he savored the feeling of his lips against yours. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing gently as he pulled you even closer.

Nicholas's hand slid under the hem of your shirt, his fingers splaying across the small of your back. You shivered at the contact, your skin prickling with goosebumps. He took his time exploring your body, his touch light and teasing as he mapped out every inch of your skin, like a poet composing his art.

He seemed to sense how much you were enjoying this, because he continued his ministrations, kissing and caressing you with a slow, steady rhythm that had you aching for more. 

Even though you had been together for years, it still felt like the first time every time he touched you, like a spark igniting a flame, sending your blood singing through your veins.

You lost yourself in the feeling of his hands on your body, his lips against yours. Everything else faded away until there was nothing but the two of you, lost in a world of your own making.

You broke the kiss, panting softly as you leaned your forehead against his. "I love you," you whispered, your voice rough with emotion.

Nicholas smiled, his eyes soft and warm as he looked at you. "I love you too," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You closed your eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours, the way his arms felt around you, the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. In this moment, everything felt right. Everything felt perfect.

As you lost yourself in the taste and touch and feel of your beloved, you felt content with life and all its deeds. 

And maybe, just maybe, you felt a bit cute too. 

fin. 

A/N: nicholas i love you bro be my best friend jebal, taking a lil smut break im still cooking dw because idk I feel soft sometimes

the gentle wind is billowing between you, speaking for you and filling in the silence. you don’t know where it came from, or how it conjured since all you’re doing is having a lovely picnic date he planned spontaneously. the ice cream is nice, cooling your already heated skin but suddenly you don’t have the strength to keep raising your small spoon to your mouth anymore.

it’s so heavy, weighing your limbs down, you have no other choice than to lower your gaze, letting the wind cover your eyes with strands of your hair over your face. the vanilla is still present on your tongue, but it feels too heavy to even formulate words right now.

and quietly, he sees it all, letting you sort out or soak in the experience with silence as he continues eating his mint chocolate treat. his eyes never once leave you because the sight of this happening was once in a lifetime, powerful since you’re allowing this to happen in front of him. he’ll never take it for granted, he’ll hold onto the moment.

it takes however long for you to finally yourself again, to sort through it all and realize what it was that you felt. a dense mixture of appreciation, intense longing, desire for connection, devotion, a yearning that seemed much farther than normal— it escapes you with a deep exhale, shaky because it was either that or just letting it fall down your cheeks in hot tears. you don’t want to alarm him, make him think that this date was a bad idea where you suddenly just melt in sparkly tears. you just feel deeply and … this time, you think he can relate. you know he can relate.

again, you don’t say anything afterwards, keeping your emotions tight within your chest, thrumming in your sternum and up your throat but you push it down by taking another scoop of ice cream passed your lips. you’re not alone in this, you fell hard. quietly, to not shake your softness, sometime amidst your silence he shuffled closer enough to close the wide space between you. sitting across from you, he settles down by your side, still facing you and still picking at his ice cream, but now raising his spoon to your lips.

share with me. a slight plea, a small opening.

unshed tears cling onto your lashes when they flutter open, meeting his soft gaze. heavy, you feel heavy, but your lips wrap around his spoon as your eyes start blurring and bridge of your nose starts stinging. it’s his way of letting you know he accepts your intensity, wants to see it, wants you to show him, that he’ll take all of it because he loves all of you. the small plastic slips out your mouth and he swiftly plants a small peck onto your burning cheek as you lower your gaze again, smiling softly when he slightly pulls away just to see what’s the next emotion to paint onto your pretty features. you burn bright, heated with his love and you feel it. his presence makes you ache, his touch, his sincerity. his thigh brushing against yours, his scent wafting into your twitching nose, his lips planted on your cheek still in a fantom kiss.

“you burned me, nicholas.” your words crumble him. you ruined me, your mind supplies but you wouldn’t call it ruined. he left his mark on your beating heart but in the most purest form. in a way that leaves you feeling fulfilled, cherished, devotedly full. his narrowed eyes stay softened, eyebrows twitching as you finally share your intensity— feeling it immediately affect him even more.

it was your turn this time, lifting up your spoon to his mouth, watching as the same emotions swirl in his eyes and full expression. his lips part, taking in the sweetness and the weight of your whispered words, leaving the spoon empty between your fingertips.

allow me to see, seeking for his intensity since you know he feels the same.

he feels it in the air, the charge of all the emotions you both feel meddling between your physical bodies, loaded onto his sharp features until they soften with the same ache. his expression visibly crumbles, and he finds it hard to swallow down the sweet with the ball of sentiment lumped in his jumping throat. can’t bring himself to look away, eyebrows furrowing upwards just the slightest. it hurts, but in a way he wants. in a way he has desired. he’s so thankful, so appreciative, you feel the same. you feel deep, but you’re not alone in this.

he nods his head once. wants you to know that he understands, he acknowledges, he agrees, he relates — in every sense possible.

a small chuckle suddenly escapes through his nostrils and his smile gingerly twitches at the curling corners of his pinkish lips. you’re both so lovesick, heavy with fever, in the way your gazes were heated. his lopsided smile makes yours grow, of course he’d understand. his lips press onto your cheek once more after your softening stare.

and when he pulls away again, all you see in his face was pure admiration. it sticks on even after he puts his attention back and smiling down at the half full cup of ice cream, scrapping out the rest on his spoon to keep feeding you. his cheeks rosy, tip of his nose pink, narrowed eyes glistening with sparkles and stars as they gaze over your beauty.

no amount of cool winds could chill your buzzing skin. no amount of ice cream can cool the burn you feel deep within for each other. he knows this. you know this.

it was just a soft picnic date in the neighborhood park, a cool chill settling in along the soft night, sunset painting the sky an array of dusk orange and pinks…

but being on any date with nicholas always turns into one of the most sacred experiences you can have. and it’ll always be with him.

&teamies taglist: @xionvlog @pageraf @makizdoll @lynaka @smidare @rinnrinnn @doyoueverthinkofrose @cerezitamour @wvlftype @uasabii @sensooazie @sunsunpilled @horangiungnico @bloomedberry @lotusluntiny