the events that follow after your boyfriend and his best friend kiss during a game of spin the bottle.
pairing: wang nicholas x fem!reader x byun euijoo
warnings: smut MDNI, drinking, threesome, MXM content (don’t read if you don’t like that), masturbation, nichojoo making out, fingering, hickeys, handjobs, blowjobs, nipple play, pussy eating, cum swallowing, unprotected sex, cumming inside (and out?), lmk if i missed anything.
wc: around 5k.
“no. absolutely not,” ej said, grabbing the empty beer bottle from the middle of the circle.
“hey, the spin the bottle gods have spoken,” nicholas responded, raising his hands up in defense. “they want me to kiss your girlfriend.”
you stared down at your lap, refusing to make eye contact with either of them. you’d only been at this party for an hour, and you were already regretting coming.
you’d wanted a nice, quiet evening in with your boyfriend, ej, and typically, he wanted the same. but it was his friend fuma’s birthday, so he had to come to the party, and you went along as well.
how you ended up playing a game of spin the bottle in a circle of only men was beyond you, though. so far, you’d witnessed some of ej’s best friends kiss, which was an interesting sight to the say the least.
but then nicholas spun the bottle, and for the first time that night, it landed on you.
“no one wants you to kiss my girlfriend,” ej argued. “especially not me or her.”
“come on already,” yuma whined. “either kiss or don’t—i’m getting bored.”
nicholas looked over at you. you looked at ej, ej looked back at you, and then you looked back to nicholas.
“oh my god,” ej huffed. “you can kiss her cheek, but that’s the most you’re getting.”
you let out the sigh you’d been holding in, relieved that ej made the decision for you because you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do.
so, nicholas crawled over across the circle to you, tilted your head to the side and planted a warm, soft kiss on your cheek, lingering slightly longer than he should’ve.
ej rolled his eyes, shaking his head in disapproval—not at you, but at his own best friend.
the game carried on, and proved quite entertaining as you got to watch many of ej and your friends share a kiss.
and then it was ej’s turn to spin.
of course, out of all the people it could’ve landed on, it landed on nicholas.
“wow, i’m pretty lucky today,” nicholas said with a glint in his eyes, a smile on his typically serious face. “tell me i get more than just your cheek.”
“you’re such a freak,” ej responded, and then he looked over at you. “it’s not up to me, though. it’s whatever y/n is comfortable with.”
your breath caught in your throat. everyone in the circle was looking at you now. it was all up to you whether or not you were okay with nicholas kissing your boyfriend.
you knew it was just a stupid party game. it wasn’t a big deal, and you knew how ej and nicholas liked to joke around and flirt sometimes. this was nothing. it was just a kiss.
“you can kiss,” you said, leaning back on your palms with a smirk. “just make sure to put on a show.”
“you’re a freak, too,” ej said to you jokingly, before turning back to nicholas.
the circle watched with anticipation as nicholas crawled across the floor yet again, then sank to his knees once he was in front of ej.
you watched carefully as nicholas brought his hands up to cup your boyfriends face, tilting his head up. ej gazed up into nicholas’s eyes, his expression completely serious. in fact, both of them looked far too serious for just a dumb party game.
their faces were getting closer and closer, their lips just an inch away. and then they were pressed together—nicholas cradling ej’s face in his large hands, their lips moving fluidly against each other.
you gulped, feeling your face start to warm. it seemed like they were actually into it, like they’d forgotten where they were and what they were doing, that it was just a game of spin the bottle. they seemed to have forgotten that people were watching them.
they weren’t even kissing anymore, but entirely making out. you swore you even saw a glimpse of one of their tongues for just a second, and it made your breath hitch in your throat.
“jesus, you guys,” yudai spoke up, laughing. “you can quit now.”
nicholas pulled back, lips glistening with your boyfriends saliva. ej stared up at him, a glimmer of something in his eye that you couldn’t make out.
if you weren’t euijoo’s girlfriend, you would’ve thought they were the ones dating. you felt like by just sitting there, you were interrupting something.
the circle fell silent—an awkward silence. nicholas cleared his throat, then shuffled back to his spot in the circle.
“um,” ej spoke, avoiding eye contact with anyone. “i don’t really wanna play anymore.”
you noticed he had his hands awkwardly positioned over his lap, and when he saw you noticed, he pulled his knees into his chest.
“me neither,” nicholas said. “i’ve kissed enough people.”
they met each others eyes from across the circle, then quickly tore their gazes apart.
“let’s go get another drink,” you suggested, trying to intercept and break the tension.
“yes!” ej agreed, hoisting himself up. “that’s a great idea.”
together, you two found your way through other party goers, into the kitchen. ej was quick to pour himself a hefty cup of liquor.
he took a long sip, then placed his cup on the counter and turned to you.
“i’m so sorry,” he said. “i don’t know what happened. i mean—i didn’t think he was gonna kiss me like that, and then it just kept going and we’ve both had too much to drink, and—”
suddenly, ej stopped talking, his gaze falling just past you, and he gulped.
you frowned, turning around to see what it was that had captured his attention. of course, it was nicholas, leaning in the doorway.
“that was hot,” he said, walking over to you two.
“shut up,” ej scolded.
nicholas chuckled, taking a sip from his red cup.
“well, y/n thought it was hot, too,” he said, motioning over to you. your eyes widened. “i saw the way you were watching us.”
ej’s eyebrows furrowed even further together, glancing over at you. both of them, with equally intimidating stares, were facing you, waiting for you to admit it or defend yourself.
what were you supposed to say? would ej get mad if you admitted that you did think it was kind of hot watching him make out with his best friend? would he think you were weird?
“i-i—”
you were sputtering out nonsense, still fighting a battle as to whether you wanted to defend yourself or admit the truth.
luckily, nicholas was there to do it for you.
“look at her,” he said with a laugh. “it’s obvious she liked what she saw. we’ll do it again for you, if you want.”
“no, we won’t,” euijoo interjected with a scoff.
and then, just for a split second, he saw it. on your face, a flash of disappointment. it was unconscious even to you, but it seemed like deep down, you were a bit disappointed that he wasn’t interested in recreating the show you’d seen just a few minutes earlier.
“wait a minute,” he said. “you actually liked it?”
“i-i mean, i don’t know,” you answered, struggling to meet either of their eyes.
“tell me, baby,” ej pried. “just tell me the truth. i won’t be upset.”
your face was pulsating, your cheeks red. it took you a minute to muster up the strength to give him the true answer.
“yeah,” you finally admitted. “i liked it.”
you glanced up at them for just a moment to see them exchanging some kind of look. you didn’t know what it meant. all you knew was that nicholas was smirking at euijoo, a mischievous little grin.
“you know,” nicholas said, setting his cup down, “i think we should get out of here.”
-
the three of you left the party together and ended up back at yours and ej’s apartment.
it was awkward, admittedly, sitting on the couch in between the two men. none of you quite knew what to say, and the silence was deafening.
of course, it was nicholas who eventually broke the silence.
“so, should we get it started?” he asked.
“get what started?” euijoo asked, already annoyed.
“you know,” nicholas replied. “your girl wants a show. let’s give her one. and now that we’re all alone, she can join in on the fun.”
euijoo glanced down at you, scanning your face, looking for the assurance that you wanted to keep going.
“you really wanna do this?” he asked you.
“if you do, i do,” you affirmed.
he took a deep breath, glancing from you over to nicholas.
then, finally, “fine. let’s go to the bedroom.”
although it wasn’t his apartment, nicholas led the way down the hall to the bedroom, practically skipping with excitement.
you and euijoo followed, and within a few seconds, the three of you were on the bed.
you were laying back against the pillows, while euijoo and nicholas sat beside each other down at the end of the bed where your feet were.
“did you like kissing me earlier?” nicholas asked, eyes trailing ej up and down.
“it was…” euijoo trailed off, searching for the right word. “fine.”
nicholas scoffed, offended.
“it was better than fine and you know it,” he replied.
you sat up on your elbows, hardly sparing a blink as you watched their faces get closer and closer to each other.
“i wasn’t thinking straight,” ej said. “it’s hard to remember.”
nicholas hummed.
“then let me remind you.”
he grabbed euijoo’s face in one of his large hands, rings probably cold on euijoo’s skin, and then joined their lips together.
you watched in awe at the way their lips seems to just melt into each other’s, how it seemed so natural the way they kissed, like they’d been doing it for years.
after a moment, ej brought his hand up and wrapped it around the back of nicholas’s neck, pulling him in even closer. at that, nicholas moaned into ej’s mouth.
you caught a sliver of one of their tongues entering the other one’s mouth, unable to figure out who’s was who’s. but then it became a battle of both their tongues, rubbing and intertwining with each other.
you squeezed your legs together, already feeing yourself getting worked up just from the sight of them kissing. all you wanted to do was to somehow get between them, to be in on their messy makeout.
euijoo pulled back a bit, glancing over at you to check on you and gauge how you were taking it so far. your eyes were blown out wide, lips glossy from how many times you’d licked them in the past few minutes.
“still doing okay?” he asked you, his torso pressed against nicholas’s.
“are you kidding?” nicholas said with a laugh. “look at her. she’s better than okay.”
ej noticed it but didn’t want to say anything so he didn’t embarrass you. it was obvious that them making out had made your horny, though. your thighs pressed together and your bright red cheeks were evidence enough.
he smiled a little.
“you can touch yourself if you want,” he offered.
that was all he said before he faced nicholas again and pressed their lips back together. you released a drawn out sigh, watching your boyfriend and his best friend devour each other.
you wanted to touch yourself, you really did, but it was nerve wracking to think about doing so in front of nicholas. he’d never see you in that kind of way, and you weren’t sure what he’d think.
regardless, he was occupied in something—someone—else, so you took the opportunity to slowly slide your hand down your body and into your pants.
straight past your panties, your fingertips brushed over your clit. you gasped, feeling how wet you already were, staring to rub the puffy bud in little circles.
nicholas’s hands trailed down euijoo’s body, desperately rubbing up and down his sides, pushing the fabric of his t-shirt up until it was bunched up around his shoulders. they pulled apart for a moment so ej could lose the shirt entirely.
nicholas’s eyes drank in the sight of ej’s bare torso, his hands gripping and rubbing your boyfriend’s supple skin.
“fuck, look at your little fucking waist,” nicholas practically growled against ej’s mouth. “you’re so sexy, juju.”
ej smiled and leaned back in, pressing his now bare torso against nicho’s as their lips intertwined once again. nicholas held ej’s waist as he slid his tongue back into his mouth, rubbing it against ej’s.
you couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips, your fingers gliding further down your soaked pussy. you dragged them down your folds and back up, spreading your arousal and staring at the two men unashamed, biting your lower lip.
ej pulled back from the kiss to look over at you again.
“why don’t you take some clothes off, baby?” he suggested in that sickeningly sweet voice of his.
you immediately obliged, sliding your hand out of your pants to take your shirt and bra off, all while maintaining deep eye contact with him. you almost didn’t notice nicholas stripping as well, revealing his toned abdomen.
you unbuttoned your pants and got rid of them, left in nothing but your drenched underwear. both of the men eyed you hungrily, but ej was the first to make a move. he detached himself from nicholas and made his way up the bed over to you, finally kissing you instead.
you tangled your fingers in caramel-colored hair, moaning into his mouth. he kissed you slowly, sweetly, carefully, and you wondered if it was the same way he kissed nicholas.
meanwhile, nicholas rid himself of his pants, left in nothing but his boxers. he stared as you and ej kissed, watched the way your legs quivered and spread. there was a patch of wetness on your thin panties, and it had nicholas’s cock twitching.
“do you want him to touch you?” ej asked, briefly pulling back from your lips.
you glanced over at nicholas, feeling a wave of insecurity and intimidation wash over you at the way he was staring with that hard look on his face.
“i-i—”
“he won’t bite,” ej assured you, glancing behind his shoulder at nicholas. “even if it looks like he will.”
nicholas fixed his expression, trying his best to look less threatening for your sake.
“you’re soaked,” he commented, inching his way over to you and euijoo. “let me take these off you, yeah?”
silently, you nodded, gasping when his cold, ringed fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties and slid them down your legs. you tried not to think too hard about it—the fact that you were now completely naked in front of your boyfriend’s best friend, your bare cunt on full display for him.
sensing your horror, ej leaned back in and kissed you, distracting you from your embarrassment.
you gasped into his mouth when you felt nicholas’s fingers swipe up the length of your pussy, gathering your excess of arousal. he spread the wetness around, and his fingers prodded at your entrance. just when you thought he was going to slide them in, he dragged them back up and pressed down on your clit instead.
you whimpered into ej’s mouth, humping your hips up into the air desperately. it made nicholas chuckle, and only aggravated you.
“she’s so sensitive,” he mumbled, slowly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers. “you’re just as fun to play with as ej.”
ej hummed before he pulled apart from your lips, glancing down at where nicholas’s hand was rubbing you.
“don’t tease her,” he scolded. “she’s been good, you can fuck her with your fingers.”
you gulped, surprised to see your boyfriend take such authority when he was normally more submissive leaning. even nicholas looked surprised for a moment to be told what to do, but nonetheless, he obliged.
slowly and gently, he slid his fingers inside your pussy, getting you nice and stretched out. you cried out, gripping the bedsheet as your walls clamped around his slender fingers.
“fuck,” nicholas mumbled. “she’s so warm ‘n wet.”
ej began peppering kisses down your jawline and to your neck, and you felt like you were in heaven. the soft suction of his lips on your neck and nicholas’s lengthy fingers pumping in and out of you was euphoric. you didn’t think it could get better until you felt another hand on your pussy—euijoo’s.
while nicholas was finger fucking you, ej began to slowly rub your clit in circles, and your eyes rolled back into your head.
“oh my god,” you moaned, not even knowing what to do with yourself because it felt so good.
“is that good, baby?” ej asked you.
“yes, euijoo,” you choked out, clenching around nicho’s fingers. “it’s so fucking good.”
he smiled against your neck, continuing to kiss his way down until he made it to your chest. he wrapped his lips around one of your erect nipples and began suckling softly on the bud, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure and relaxation.
you couldn’t believe this was happening—you had two of the sexiest men you’d ever seen in your life pleasing you at the same exact time. ej rubbing your clit and sucking your nipples, and nicholas fingering you so deep that you were practically wetting the bed with your arousal.
suddenly, taking advantage of the fact that your lips were free now, nicholas brought his face to yours and kissed you—for real this time. his lips on yours and the way he kissed you was nothing like the way ej kissed you. nicholas was rougher, more intense. his tongue found its way into your mouth quickly, and you had to match his pace, so you rubbed your own tongue against his, exchanging saliva.
you moaned into his mouth, your fingers tugging on ej’s hair as he tugged your nipple between his teeth. you were practically riding both their hands, inching yourself closer and closer to your high. you needed it desperately, and you couldn’t hide it from them.
“you gonna cum, baby?” ej asked, gliding his tongue around your nipple.
all you could do was nod into nicholas’s mouth, unable to speak even if you weren’t kissing him. he plunged his fingers as deep as they could go inside of you, and your legs clamped around both their hands.
“fuck!” you yelped, breaking apart from the kiss. “shit, nghhh—i’m cumming!”
you threw your head back, releasing a strained moan as your climax washed over you. you tugged your boyfriends hair, tightening around their fingers as the knot in your stomach undid itself.
“fuck, that’s it,” nicholas cooed, watching the way your legs twitched as you started to come down. “so fucking pretty when you cum.”
he pulled his fingers out of you, and ej detached from your nipple. they were both sat on either side of you, looking down at you. ej carefully caressed your tummy, lulling you back down from the intensity of your orgasm.
“you’re so hard,” nicholas suddenly said, motioning to ej’s cock, straining obviously in his pants.
suddenly, nicholas was reaching over you to plant his palm against ej’s covered length, feeling it pulsate under his hand.
“fuck,” ej hissed, instinctively jutting his hips forward, pressing his cock further into nicho’s grasp.
nicholas smirked at his best friend’s reaction, squeezing ej’s length over the fabric of his sweatpants. he dragged his hand back and forth, but when he decided that wasn’t enough, he tugged on the waistband and tugged them down enough for ej’s length to spring free.
at the sight of your boyfriend’s dick drooling with pre cum, you eagerly sat up on your knees and positioned yourself in front of him. ej looked down at you tenderly, bringing his hand to the back of your head to guide your mouth onto his length.
you took him well like you always did, kitten licking up the precum from his tip before taking the rest of his length into your mouth.
ej sighed in pleasure, dropping his head back. you glanced up, only to find nicholas leaning forward and planting a firm kiss to ej’s neck.
“fuck,” ej groaned, bringing his other hand to the back of nicho’s neck.
it was hard to keep your eyes open with the tip of his long cock gagging you when it hit the back of your throat every few seconds, but you refused to miss what was occurring in front of you. nicholas sucking hickeys into ej’s neck was a beautiful sight, and you could feel yourself getting worked up all over again.
and it only got better when you watched ej’s hand carefully drag down the front of nicho’s torso, stopping at the waistband of his boxers. they made eye contact, seemingly exchanging information telepathically, and then ej was slipping his hand into the other’s boxers.
“oh shit,” nicholas moaned as ej began stroking him slowly. “fuck—that’s good.”
you watched the bump of ej’s hand moving in nicholas’s boxers, so entranced by the sight that you found yourself slacking on the blowjob you were giving.
“mmm, keep going, baby,” ej urged, drawing you back in with that coaxing voice of his.
you turned your attention back to him, pushing him as deep into your throat as you could go. you clenched your eyes shut in discomfort, hollowing out your cheeks.
you deep-throated him for a few minutes before he let you up for a much needed breather. when your eyes reopened, you found that nicholas’s boxers were to his knees and ej’s hand was pumping his thick cock in a rapid motion.
again, you sat back and watched in awe. the chemistry they had, the way they both seemed to know what the other one liked, left you dumbfounded. you truly began to question if this wasn’t the first time they’d done something like this with each other.
“finish him off,” ej suddenly said to you, and your eyes widened.
“what about you?” you asked, glancing over at his long cock, standing straight up against his abs from how hard he was.
“don’t worry about me right now,” he retorted. “wanna see you take nicho, okay? wanna see you swallow everything he gives you. can you do that, pretty girl?”
you gulped with nerves, but nodded nonetheless. it was always hard to say no to ej, not that you wanted to.
you sat yourself on your knees in front of nicholas, face to face with his cock. a long vein ran all the way up from the bottom to the top, and so you traced it with your tongue before wrapping your lips around his bulbous tip.
“holy shit,” nicholas moaned, his hand finding the back of your head—not to push you, but to keep it firmly rested there. “that’s it, that’s a good girl.”
his words practically made you purr, your pussy nearly dripping onto the bed. you were so horny despite having cum all ready, but you needed more.
luckily, your boyfriend sensed that. before you knew it, ej was spreading your legs and positioning himself between them. and then, from the back, he licked a firm, electrifying stripe up from your hole to your clit, a lick so pleasurable that you whimpered around nicholas’s cock, jolting in delight.
“oh, yeah,” nicholas muttered. “fuck—is that good? you like getting your pussy eaten while you’re sucking me off?”
you eagerly nodded your head, your mouth stuffed too full to speak. although, you figured that even if your mouth wasn’t full, you still wouldn’t have been able to say anything. you were so fucked out, already dumb and you hadn’t even gotten fucked yet.
ej drank your arousal and licked your pussy up and down, circling the tip of his tongue against your puffy clit. you didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you opted for planting them on nicholas’s sharp hips, which gave you the leverage to suck him even deeper into your mouth.
your moans vibrated around his length, and he fucked his hips forward, making you gag when he hit the back of your throat.
“‘m fucking close,” he warned, tugging on your strands of hair.
you blinked up at him, your cunt tightening around euijoo’s tongue in excitement. just the thought of nicholas cumming was enough to make you feel like you could cum soon too.
he fucked his cock in and out of your throat a couple of more times before tensing, and then you felt the first string of hot, salty cum, hitting your tongue. you swallowed it and continued to do so with the ropes of it that followed, giving both him and ej what they wanted.
and nicholas looked so good when he came—his face scrunched up, releasing an array of beautiful sounds, abs tight and glistening with sweat—that suddenly, you felt like you were going to release all over euijoo’s face.
“e-ej!” you cried out, pushing your hips back into his face. “oh god, right there!”
his tongue rapidly flicked up and down, and suddenly, you, too, were cumming. you released all over his face, drenching him with your wetness, and he slurped it all up, licking your cunt clean.
you collapsed flat on your back against the bed when you were done cumming, looking up at the two men tiredly.
“wake up,” euijoo said, spreading your legs and making room for himself between them. “i haven’t cum yet, baby.”
your body was pliant from you sleepy you were, making it easy for nicholas to pick you up and place you on his lap, your back pressed to his sweaty chest. you put your feet on the tops of his thighs, spreading your legs and revealing your glistening pussy to ej.
you leaned back against nicho’s chest, steadying your breathing as ej lined himself up and nudged in until just his tip was inside you. with how wet you were, it wasn’t going to be hard for him to get you adjusted to his size.
as he slid inch by inch, nicholas wrapped one hand around your waist and brought it down to rub your clit. he used the other one to slide up your stomach and land on your breast, tweaking your hard nipple.
you felt like you were on another dimension, sandwiched between these two men, both of them stimulating every part of you. you felt so good, you couldn’t even do or say anything except lay there and take what they were giving you.
ej bottomed out and was quick to start thrusting, fucking you at a consistent pace from the start.
“is it good, baby?” nicholas asked in your ear, kissing just below it. “use your words.”
“it’s so f-fucking good,” you cried out, your body rocking back into his chest every time ej thrusted into you.
“you’re so pretty,” ej whispered, leaning forward to peck you on the lips. “such a sweet thing letting us play with you like this.”
you turned your head to the side and met nicholas’s lips, letting him snake his tongue into your mouth. you rubbed your tongues together, moaning pathetically and tiredly as ej fucked you hard and deep, his tip quickly finding your g-spot.
“mmmmph, oh my god,” you mumbled against nicholas’s mouth. “it feels so good.”
“i know,” nicholas cooed, pinching your nipples between his fingers. “i know.”
ej stared down at you in awe, perched on his best friend’s lap, making out with him. it was such an outrageously hot sight that he wanted to take a picture, and that way he’d never forget it.
but he was too close. he couldn’t think about stopping now, not when his orgasm was rapidly approaching. you could tell, too, based on his hips were moving fluidly, his thrusting losing its rhythm.
“cum again for me,” he commanded.
you looked up at him with big, watery eyes.
“can’t,” you whimpered out.
“hey, yes you can,” nicholas cooed, pressing his fingers firmly onto your clit. “you can do it. be good and cum for us, okay?”
you tossed your head back against his shoulder, and ej couldn’t resist. with your neck exposed like that, he felt like a magnet the way his hand immediately reached out to wrap around it. he squeezed just slightly, applying only a touch of pressure, but he knew it was just what you needed to get you to the brink of orgasm.
you clenched around him, legs shaking and threatening to close, but he kept them open. he thrusted, once, twice, three more times and then abruptly stopped, buried to the hilt inside of you.
you came with a silent, choked moan, your entire body twitching in nicholas’s lap. ej stuffed you full with his warm, sticky load, panting like he’d just run a marathon.
he slowly thrusted, riding and milking out both your orgasms, fucking his cum deep inside of you, where it belonged.
you were a mess. all three of you were, but you especially because—and you hadn’t realized it—but nicholas had cum against just from his cock rubbing against your back a few times. you were covered in cum from the inside out.
ej pulled out and helped you off nicholas’s lap. the three of your lay beside each other, practically melting into the sheets.
for a good ten minutes, there was silence. you were dozing off and only awakened when you felt a wetness on your skin.
you opened your eyes and realized the wetness was from ej wiping you off with a damp towel.
“you okay?” he asked, leaning down to kiss you softly on the forehead.
“mmm, yeah,” you answered tiredly.
nicholas was off the bed now, cleaning himself off and redressing. you realized, even in your tired state, that you didn’t want him to go. you didn’t like how neither them were laying beside you anymore.
“wait,” you called out weakly, getting nicholas’s attention. “can you guys just…get back in bed? can we just go to sleep together?”
ej and nicholas exchanged a glance.
“both of us?” nicholas asked.
“yeah,” you said. “if that’s okay.”
nicholas, who’d just put his shirt back on, immediately took it back off and crawled back into bed with you.
“more than okay,” he assured, kissing your cheek.
ej chuckled and climbed back into bed on the other side of you, pulling you into his chest.
“i could get used to this,” you mumbled, closing your eyes.
and you could. you felt safe with both men there on either side of you. you thought that you didn’t want this to be just a one time thing.
“yeah,” ej agreed. “me too.”
the three of you fell asleep then, an end to a night that none of you expected.
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🌊summary : moving to Hawaii with your boyfriend opened up more opportunities than you would ever have thought so. In so many ways, you have been feeling trapped in your relationship. You went to multiple therapists, but they could never give you good advice. But it seems like therapists in Honolulu had a different mindset than in Portland. So, what happens when you go to a surf instructor your therapist recommended, who is way hotter than you expected? And you don't even know it yet, but as time passes even more opportunities will open up for you when you get closer with him...
🌊 genre : angst, smut, strangers to lovers
🌊 tags : cheating (kinda) , soft nicholas, gentle nicholas, pussy drunk nicholas, eating out, cowgirl, experienced nicholas, kinda inexperienced reader, jealous nicholas (YUMMM), unprotected sex (don't do this folks), whiny nicholas and lowkey a little bit submissive, dacryphilia , whimpering, usage of jagiya, harumaki if you squint but only if you squint, hickeys, nicholas loves tits, missionary
🌊wc : 14k
๑ ๑ ๑ song: cool for the summer - demi lovato ๑ ๑ ๑
🌊notes : first fanfic posted on here yeeeey!! sorry is anything is inaccurate i never been in either portland or hawaii lmao. i thought this was going to be a small ff, smut with some plot but... angst happened. BUT this is not a problem since we love drama obvi. reblogs, comments and likes are very much appreciated, they keep me motivated🥹 but even if you just take your time and read this, it means a lot. hope you enjoy!!
He set his cup down on the glass table and crossed his legs. Sitting in a red velvet armchair, he looked like a therapist straight out of a movie. Was it a great first impression? you didn't exactly know either.
On one hand, he looked trustful for sure. Maybe you've been watching way too many dramas with the same plot. A teenage girl has problems in school, then flashes to a few scenes with her therapist, who makes her realize that all she needs is love. And the girl is just like 'wait, yes' then just goes and dates the basketball captain.
You wish it was easy like that. But you weren't in school anymore, and it was never really that easy for you. In highschool, quite literally you were the biggest loser in the world. Someone who even grimaced at the thought of someone loving her deeply, cause even the thought made you seem like it was a joke or something.
Looking back, high school was the most horrible thing to happen to you. You had friends, but nobody was ever interested in you. And missing out on that well-known teenage romance was a hard pill to swallow, but you accepted your fate after a while.
Then, in your last year, it happened. The thing that you thought never would. Someone asked you out, and that someone was none other than Byun Eui-joo, one of the players of the local water polo team. Everybody knew him as EJ.
He wasn't the most popular and known guy in the school, but he was for sure one of them big dogs. After all, he got a nickname, and not everybody was important enough to get a nickname. For example, you didn't get one. Never, from anybody.
So, after EJ asked you out, you obviously agreed right away. The first date was so awkward you would never go back to that again, but he was so giggly and cute that your heart nearly melted. Soon, you guys started dating.
But after five years, here you are in your freshly chosen therapist’s room, telling him all about EJ and how he's annoying you even more by every passing day. He's looking at you through his square glasses, and he would look intimidating if you would think deeper into it, but you are too carried away. Your words just flow out of your mouth like a waterfall, and someone finally listens. That's all you wanted, since your boyfriend is not capable of that.
“That's interesting” The therapist looked down on his notes and flipped a page, looking like he would rather be anywhere than this room.
Your eyes nearly twitched “That's all? Interesting?”
He looked up without lifting his head, eyes glancing up above his silver glasses. “Is this your first day here? In Hawaii”
You nodded your head “Yes. I just moved here, like two days ago, but we could call it my first day. I haven't had time to get out of my new house. There's too much unresolved stuff”
He hummed, and for a moment you swear you could feel his judgement. That can't be true, right? This is his job, he is supposed to listen.
“You are telling me that the first thing after you got out of your house was to go to a therapy session?”
You gulped. Well, if he worded it like that, it for sure seemed like fatal trouble. But you weren't desperate for answers. You just wanted good advice, or just anyone to listen to you.
“I mean— I—” you stumbled over your words “I just can't take the arguments anymore. I need a solution”
He wrote something down, the silence in the room suffocating. The only sound being his pen as it chiseled into the paper was the most embarrassing thing you have experienced in a while. It made you think about what he could be writing.
He turned his head to look outside on the big window that screeched from the room’s ceiling to the floor. The view was straight up amazing from the small room, the beach and the sea’s beautiful image seductively calling you to go down and dip into the water.
The whole session felt so odd. You were uncomfortable, and as the time kept passing and you kept glancing at the clock on the wall, you realized this is surely not how it was supposed to go.
He wasn't even replying to you most of the times, he just scrabbled down stuff in his notebook like it was some fucking interview.
You were about forty minutes into the session when you let out a sigh and let your back hit the backrest of the cushion.
He glanced up from the notebook, eyes heavy on you.
And before you could stop and think, the words slipped out of your mouth “Do you have a solution or any advice? Or should I walk out helpless?”
One more moment of silence. A big one.
He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, since it began to slide down. Then, he lifted his chin up. “Yes, actually”
The words made your eyes widen slightly. You didn't think this session was going to end up anywhere. In fact, the past forty minutes seemed like you wasted it from your precious life.
You sat up straight “And what is it?”
“Try a sport”
You knitted your brows together in confusion. This was an answer you should’ve seen coming, just pure bullshit that doesn't make sense.
As if he could read your mind, he began to explain. “I know what you think. But I’m not insane, I promise. We just have our things… different here. You said you came from Portland, right?”
You nod your head.
“You probably had a way more different life so far than you will living here. Look outside, it's so sunny, and happy, isn't it?”
You turn your head to the gigantic window you were just looking out on a few minutes ago. The beach life was still active, loads of people were in the water, or on the sand tanning.
“Yes, it is” You agree.
“Have you ever tried any watersports?” He asks kindly, a subtle smile on his face now. Okay, that proves he may not be that bad after all. At least he doesn't look like a serial killer now. He should smile more.
You think it through, but you realize you don't have to think that much when you can barely even swim. “Not really”
“Great!” He claps his hands together, pure excitement radiating from his expression “Now it's time, then.” He looks at the clock, then stands up to guide you out when he sees the one hour has passed.
“Sadly, our time is over” He says, and you stand up too to shake hands.
“Thank you, and I will take your advice” You say slightly bowing to show respect as you shake his hand.
“It’ll help, trust me. I’m going to send you one of my friend’s social media pages, if that's okay. That man is an expert!” He even lets out a laugh, and you respond with a chuckle on your own too.
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Two days have passed since the therapy session with your new therapist, but you still haven't gotten that message. Honestly, you weren't even sure if he told you the truth or not. What if he just made that friend up in his own mind? He seems like the kind of person who would do that.
You kept on wondering while standing in the kitchen, slicking up tomatoes for your and EJ’s lunch. It has been a while since you and him ate together, and you thought it might be a good idea to make his favorite dish for this special event.
He wasn't home since he already found a job, though you moved in only a few days ago. When he stated that and you questioned him, he just said he already got the job when you lived in Portland. He just didn't tell you about it.
Typical EJ. Sometimes you catch yourself wondering: when did you ruin your relationship with him? But every time this crosses your mind, you shake the thoughts away.
Now there's a different thought that gets into your mind. Was it worth it to move to Hawaii? Will things work out with him? You wanted to believe that you moved here for fun, and to change the environment around you. But deep down, you knew the truth. Of course you did, because you and him talked about it.
Because your old therapist told you on the couple therapy sessions every time. ‘Try a vacation. You don't have to move if it's not that bad… even a simple vacation could help’
Seems like it was that bad that you had to move. And that made your heart ache, every time you remembered his face, his emotionless face when he told you he thinks it could be the best if you move out of your hometown. You lived your whole life in Portland.
But EJ was the only boy who ever loved you, and you knew you can't lose him. Even if he doesn't feel anything. Even if you don-
The buzz of your phone on the countertop makes you get out of your head, the sudden sound scares you so bad that you accidentally cut your index finger with the sharp knife.
You cuss, then look at the phone.
+1 808 777 7777: Here's the guy I was talking about.
LINK
Have a nice day!
You almost immediately drop the knife on the countertop to suck the flowing blood from your finger while with your left hand, you clumsily pick up the phone to open the message.
Opening the link your therapist sent you, even your breath stuck in your throat. You were expecting everything but this sight.
A guy, probably around the same age as you, in his early twenties. His social media account didn't look like some millennial or a pr team made it. Instead, it was filled with pictures where he was with his friends, pictures of him, places he went to and stuff. Just like if he had a normal life.
This wasn't shocking just as itself. The only thing that shocked you was that this therapist knew people like this. Cool people.
You scroll up back onto the top of the page to read his bio. There weren't many things written on it, only a few casual information like his age or what country he lives in. His email was also there, where you could contact him. What your eyes stopped on was the very top line.
Surf Instructor.
Your stomach twirled at the thought of standing on a surf board and riding waves. No. That was way too out of your comfort zone. Especially with this guy. He looked way too cool compared to you, he seemed someone that genuinely enjoyed living to the fullest. Someone who had zero insecurities or problems.
You just couldn't imagine yourself surfing with this man. Or even being by the beach with him, your body made yourself nearly throw up every time you glanced at it in the mirror.
You stopped sucking on your finger for a moment, just to type back a message to your therapist quickly.
you: surfing? no
Short, but it says everything he needs to know. Maybe he might think you are being rude, but… who does he think he is, really? Yes, you are there to ask for advice but if he gives you something stupid like surfing, then he shouldn't be surprised at your reaction.
You don't even have time to put the phone down and continue chopping the tomatoes when it buzzes in your hand, a not so delightful message flashing on the screen.
+1 808 777 7777: Already booked an appointment for tomorrow 10 am. Be there, the guy’s schedule is way too tight.
No way back now :)
You scoff in anger, practically throwing the phone on the counter. It ends up in the tomatoes, but you don't even care about that. What the hell does this guy think? Just because he's a therapist he can't make decisions instead of you.
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After many many internal fights with yourself, you decided that maybe, maybe he was right. This whole moving out is to test waters, which became… quite literal. Coming out of your comfort zone can be positive, right? You asked yourself this exact question and nothing else while you took the bus to the beach.
Yesterday afternoon wasn't the most pleasant thing you've ever experienced. EJ came home pretty late, and the lunch you made became a dinner, but it also became cold and sticky. He didn't enjoy it, and he voiced it.
You were about to cry yourself to sleep, because EJ probably had such a bad day at work. He just started at his new workplace, but it was already stressful for him and it was very obvious that he took the tension out on you with his constant remarks.
Moving was a shit idea. Spending loads of money on a house in the beautiful Hawaii was a shittier idea. You should've stayed in the gloomy and crimeful Portland.
The sand got in your sandals, and it was pretty irritating having it stuck to your feet and having it between your toes, you couldn't care less about it.
Your mind was already spiraling on lunch. You should be in the kitchen right now. It’s just a little bit past nine, but you should be already cooking. What if you don't have food on the table by the time EJ comes home?
Will he be mad?
No, he will probably come home at night anyways. You have plenty of time today. A simple surf lesson won't hurt you or him. But if he finds out you found a therapist for yourself, now, that's a different story. That would mean the end of you.
You looked over at the sea, the sun had just started coming up not so long ago, and its rays covered the top of the water, making it look like a golden bridge made out of veil.
You get your phone out of your pocket and take a photo of it. Kind of a weird habit, but you always take pictures of everything you find pretty. Especially clouds. If it looks like something, your phone is already in your hand.
You closed the camera app and the next thing you do is check the address your therapist sent you yesterday. You let your feet sink in the sand while you do it, your sandals fully covered in sand now.
“Where the fuck…” You mutter when you type it in the maps application, but you waste no time and start walking again. His workplace was pretty far away from… everything.
You kept on walking anyways, and just a little bit before 10 am you approached the place you tapped in google maps. A house.
That's it. Nothing else. Far away from the other houses or the high skyscrapers. Just a small outcrop of sand that looked like a small island but still, it wasn't because it was connected to the beachside with sand and not water.
The small island however looked like it was made for that house. A few palm trees were around it, and it was made out of mainly wood and bamboo. The roof was apparently made of reeds, but you weren't exactly sure.
You attempted to walk closer, and as you approached, you realized this was probably where he actually lived. You could sneak a glance at the inside of the house since the windows were pretty big and there wasn't any glass or curtains that would cover up the sight, just a mosquito net, and it looked like a real home.
“Hey!” A kind voice came from behind your back just as you were about to go closer to the bamboo house, and it made you immediately turn around.
Just like that, you were facing the boy you’ve seen in the photos. In real life size, he looked way cooler than in those photos. His hair was red, even though in some of the photos it was either bleached or black. It all suited him, but seeing it red in real life made you sure that it was absolutely the best choice to dye it.
Suddenly, you felt tight in your own skin. Too big in your clothes. Too small next to him, but that behavior screamed pick me. You never understood the girls in high school who always complained how ‘small’ they feel. But now, you got it.
You swallowed hard, trying to erase the weird tug in your stomach. Feeling anxious when meeting next people was normal for you, but it was never this bad. It might be because it's just you and him.
He reached out his hand, gesturing you to shake it as an introduction. You did it, mumbling your name with a nearly trembling voice.
“Nicholas Wang” He said it back, his voice way more firm than yours. “Nice to meet you”
“Yeah, nice to meet you too” You tried to smile too, but failed miserably.
“So,” He clapped his hands together and looked you up and down “welcome to my place. I guess I should show you around a little bit. You seem nervous”
Your body stills at the call-out, but you don't say anything. What happened? Where’s your voice? You are supposed to spend the next two hours with this man, who is, let's just say… nevermind.
You nod your head and follow him as he gestures the way with a head tilt.
First, he takes you next to the house. There's a small garage or something like that. It’s like his house, but a smaller version. You didn't even see it at first. He opens up the door, and you are faced with a bunch of surfing boards.
“This is where I keep my work stuff” He explains “You can choose which one you want” He smirks down at you, but you just glance at his face for a moment.
When you finished looking around, he closed the door. “Are you nervous?”
You swallow again, feeling like your legs are about to give up at any moment. So fucking embarrassing. “I- a little bit, maybe. I've never been to a… instructor, to be honest” you giggle, but it has no humor to it.
Instead of laughing, he nods like he agrees or something. “Oh, I get it. But you need to loosen up. I hope I can reach that”
He smirks and gives a pat to your shoulder, and you smile back too, even though you feel the apples of your cheeks get red.
You look at the bamboo house, the question not leaving your head. You even decide to voice it out “Do you live here?”
He nods proudly “Yes, I built the house actually. I used to live here with my friends but they moved away eventually”
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The waters were pretty calm today, and it was not too sunny. It definitely wasn't on the level where your whole body felt like burning after being in the sun for more than five minutes.
After around one hour into the lesson, there were more things you could take important notes of. First of all, therapists are right, even when it seems like they don't know what they're doing. They do. Coming out of your comfort zone can be nice, actually, fantastic, you just need to find the right way to do so.
Second, Nicholas is a good talker. This might be because he is a professional surfing instructor, but he knows how to talk to people. You loosened up after forty minutes, and you definitely wasn't feeling as anxious as before.
One thing for sure, he might look super ‘cool’ in photos, and he is in real life too. But that doesn't purposely mean that he will judge you in your swimming suit, even if you cried over it last night. He also doesn't care about how your hair sits on the top of your head. He is a surfing instructor, a teacher after all. You are not here to make friends.
“You already do so good, y/n!” He praises, watching you lay on the surfing board and swimming with your hands. “If you keep being so good, we might reach the point where you stand up next lesson”
“Already? Isn't that too soon?” You ask, genuinely shocked.
He shakes his head, his wet strands of hair flying around his head “Nope. I'm actually not joking, you are one of the best students I’ve gotten”
You tilt your head, swimming closer to where he was sitting on his board. “Do you say this to every single one of your students, or am I special?”
He lets out a small giggle, dropping his head “No, I don't. You really are special. I guess”
“Wow, I'm honored” You sit up on your board, now being about one metre far away from him.
For a moment, he just stares at you. You look down, taking a deep breath. “I can't believe you live like this”
He widens his eyes, the sentence probably catching him off guard. “What? Like how?”
“I don't know” You shrug “So…Calm. Your life is peaceful. You live right next to the sea, you have always been living here and I don't know. It makes me jealous.”
He laughs awkwardly again, hopping off of the board. The two hours had passed and it was time to get out of the water. You couldn't even believe the lesson was already over.
“Jealous?” Is all he says.
You gulp as you step out on the beach, sand sticking to your feet. You don't know what to say exactly. Nicholas seems like such an interesting person with an interesting life. While all you do is cook for your boyfriend who doesn't even come home, just sometimes. The worst thing is that you will probably marry that man. No, actually, the worst thing is that you are attached to him. You can't leave him, he has filled up your life ever since your teenage years.
“Can I be honest?”
He looks at you, rather concerned and scared than funny like how he looked the whole session. But he nods, and that's all you care about.
“I feel like I want to know everything about you and your life”
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two weeks later
EJ comes home way sooner than he usually does, and that kind of catches you off guard. He texted you saying you don't have to prepare any lunch. That's another thing that catches you off guard.
But that meant you had time. You used that time to go to a surfing lesson. In the past two weeks, you went almost every day if not every day. You weren't sure about the stuff that your therapist said about Nicholas having a ‘tight schedule’ cause somehow when you texted him ‘can i come now?’, he always replied with yes.
That's how it went today too. EJ texted you that he will come home at two pm. He sent the message at eight am.
You went to Nicholas straight away.
You weren't exactly sure why you were enjoying this whole sport thingy so much. The surfing part didn't even excite you that much. It was probably the easiest sport of all the time, but Nicholas kept praising you about how good you were compared to others. And that made you feel special.
Nicholas was your teacher, but it felt like with all the meet ups every day that you guys have become friends by now.
The best thing was that you and him could talk about anything. You were keeping it professional and you didn't talk about private life, but everything going on in the world, or just casual stuff. It felt refreshing.
And sometimes, lately, the time you were spending together wasn't purposely surfing lessons. Sometimes he just invited you inside his bamboo house, and you talked. Drank wine. Okay, that only happened once. But it still happened.
You went to him again like always, and you were sitting on his couch, next to each other. You talked the time away quickly. It passed so fast that you didn't even realize that it was already half past two.
“I’m just saying! The red looks amazing” You say, twirling a strand of his red dyed hair with your index finger. It had already faded out and became somewhat pink, but it still looked good. “Or, hear me out. Pink. Make it pink”
“Nah, I don't think that's a good idea” He shakes his head, keeping his eyes on you. “It wouldn't suit me”
“It would, what do you mean?” You say, completely protesting against him “Pink is literally the best color. Like, ever”
He chuckles “Fuck no. I still think my blonde era was the best. But pink… it would look good on you” He added, scanning your face with his eyes.
You look down, dropping your hand from his hair to your own lap. Sometimes he complimented you, even if they were just small compliments like this, and it felt… well… you felt something. It felt good. But nothing more.
“Thanks…” You mumbled under your breath.
Nicholas laughed and dropped his hand on your knee. “Did I make you flustered? My bad”
Your phone suddenly vibrates in your pocket, and it isn't a message. It keeps buzzing, meaning someone is calling you. And that someone can't be other than… fuck.
You pull your phone out of your pocket with the speed of light, looking at the flashing name on the screen.
“ej🩷”
Obviously. Who else. Your eyes fly to the time on the top of the screen: 14:34
Fucking hell. You totally forgot about him coming home earlier for some fucked up reason. Nicholas looks at you with a worried expression, muttering a “What?” when you stand up and rush out of his house.
You mumble a sorry before stepping out and swiping up the green button, ready to get scolded. It happens as you expect.
“Where the hell are you?”
“I can be wherever I want to. It's none of your business, EJ”
“What? You are MY girlfriend and I told you to be home. I prepared you a fucking gift! Of course you had to ruin it”
You speed up with your steps, nearly stumbling as the sand keeps getting into your sandals. “I swear to fucking God, I’m not some home wife…”
“Well, I was about to make you one! And —”
The rest of the sentence is a blur, you barely even let the words you heard sink in. Make you one? If that means…
“Make me one?” You stop your steps.
“Yes, fucking hell. I was about to take you out on a fancy ass date so you don't have to fucking cook. And then, I wanted to ask you to be my wife”
You press the red button and put the phone down. This can't be fucking real. For a few moments, you stand still, feet rooted in the sand, the only sound you hear is the sea and the thoughts in your head going wild.
You don't want to go back there. You want to stay here, because it is so calm. Not like him. He is so aggressive. Why would he want to marry you?
It's probably not even his idea. He would never take you out on a date, those days are over. There are big chances that it was his passive aggressive mother who told him to do this whole thing. They've been wanting him to have a wife and children for so long.
You swallow the lump in your throat, anxiety spiking up in your whole body as you continue to walk to the bus stop. You are not ready to have children, you can't have children. Not now. It's just not ideal. Especially not with EJ. You believe his whole family is cursed, and you definitely don't want to pass down those cursed energies to your children.
The thought makes you want to throw up. The thing is that, if someone was about to ask you about your opinion on this about three weeks ago, maybe you would’ve said yes.
But you forgot to mention something in the important notes thing.
Nicholas was the perfect man. You knew this from the moment you looked at his pictures. He looked perfect. But when you met him, yes, you did feel anxious, but it wasn't just that. You haven't felt that feeling in a long time.
The last time you felt that was in highschool, when EJ asked you out. It was a long while ago. EJ wasn't able to make you feel like that since that.
But every time you are with Nicholas… There's something. It feels like he made you less attached to EJ and his toxic family.
You know you can't think about this right now. You have to go home, maybe make EJ less furious with something, his favorite meal? Just get his mind off of the marriage. You would even have sex with him right now. If it takes his mind off of it, you would do it.
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Your hands are straight up trembling when you put the key into the door, opening it as silently as you possibly could.
But as you step in and look forward, you find EJ looking at you while he stands in front of the kitchen island, leaning back on it with his arms crossed.
“Where the fuck were you, y/n?” He asks, voice low.
“Nowhere” You simply reply, suddenly feeling your ego spike up.
He pushes himself away from the counter and makes his way to you. “Fucking answer me”
“I answered”
EJ runs a frustrated hand through his hair, putting his hands on his hips. “I just… I really wanted this day to go well and you ruined it for me, babe.”
“Really? Are you fucking kidding me right now, EJ? Do you know how many days you ruined for me? I've been standing in this kitchen for days to make you fucking lunch, and you don't even appreciate it. You never do.” It takes you so much courage, but you say your thoughts out. You were always the one who got silenced in this relationship, and you are feeling brave today anyways. “Suddenly, you want me to be your wife?”
He audibly gulps, his Adams apple moving down and up. “Yes. We have been together since high school, and...”
“It doesn't fucking matter. You ruin me, EJ. You…I…” You broke down, feeling the tears coming to your eyes. Fuck, no, you can't let yourself cry. Not in front of him.
“I ruined you?” He raises his voice, now it sounds threatening “I saved your teenage years. Come on, Fuma told me you were always barking about how much you wanted a boyfriend. I thought i would ask you out, so you would fucking stop complaining to my friend all the fucking time”
Your heart drops. He never actually wanted you. It was all an act. It all sets into place now. He never actually wanted to ask you out, he did it so his friend (who was also your friend at the time) won't hear about your problems.
You simply turn around, forcing yourself not to fall to the ground and cry. You simply turn around, so you don't shout at him and send him back to his mother's pussy. You simply turn around, and walk out. You run down on the stairs of the flat before he could chase you, but no, he would never do that. It's clear now. He wouldn't go after you.
And he doesn't.
You know where you want to go right away. And you don't even question where your feet take you, right to the bus stop. You step on the floor of the bus numbered as 303. You still don't question. You feel like you finally know what you want.
However, you can't stop the tears falling from your eyes as you sit down next to the window. You don't even try to stop them, you know it would be impossible.
The bus is quiet, no one looks at you, everybody just stands or sits there boring their face onto their phone’s screen. You look outside, admiring the way the sun’s rays fall onto the water.
It takes twenty minutes to get there. After that, comes the walk you hate so much. Half an hour. Finally, you approach the familiar bamboo house, kind of feeling exhausted from the walk. You and Nicholas for sure grew closer, but you can't help but feel a twist in your stomach. He is your surf instructor. He wasn't your friend, even if it seemed like he was. Or was he? You never talked about private things. Life things.
Despite the hesitant feeling in your feet, and the little voice in your head that told you to turn around and walk back, say yes to EJ and have children with him, you took a step.
Then you decided to not think anymore. Your life is fucked up anyways. In the next minute you found yourself knocking on the bamboo door. Nicholas opened it right away.
“y/n?” he asks, eyebrows going up in surprise. Usually, when you come to his house for a non appointment, you always text him first, but that doesn't happen now.
“Sorry for bothering you” You try to sound normal, but you can't help the small shake that gets into your voice when you talk. “I just-” you lower your head, avoiding eye contact.
Nicholas steps closer, lifting up your chin to make you look at him “Hey, you are not bothering me” his voice softens.
You look up at him, feeling your eyes getting wetter by each second. His eyes are filled with genuine concern and softness, something that you’ve never seen on him before. He was always soft, but he kept it so professional that you could feel: there was a line that you couldn't cross with him.
Now, that line seemed to blur, even if just a little. “Can I come in?” You insist shyly, and he immediately nods and stands out of the doorway so you could get in.
You go to his dark brown couch and lay down, practically throwing yourself onto the mattress and burring your head onto one of the soft pillows.
He stands by the kitchen, leaning his back against the counter and crossing his strong arms in front of his chest, making his forearm muscles flex.
Nicholas scans you with his eyes, looking at you laying on his couch and watching as you turn around from your stomach to your back, so you can see him since the kitchen and the cushion was placed across both sides of his house in front of each other.
As you look at him, you notice that he has changed since you went back to EJ. When you were last here, he was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt, but now he's wearing grey sweatpants instead of jeans.
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks, keeping his voice firm but soft at the same time.
You shrug and bite down your lower lip. Should you? Is it a good idea to talk about this to your teacher? You think it through quickly, but then you realize Nicholas is basically your only friend here in Hawaii. You really don't have anyone else now.
You bob your head.
“So what's up?” He asks casually, turning around so he can get a glass of water for you. “Who called you earlier and why are you all messy now?”
You run your hands through your hair at that, fixing it. “I don't even know how to tell you”
He hands you the glass of water and sits down next to you on the couch, turning his body sideways so he faces you while his arm rests on the back of the sofa. “Just tell me” He shrugs.
“Okay, so…” you began, looking down to gather your thoughts “I already told you why I moved here. Halfly.”
What you told him was less than half of your story. Yes, your father did die and it was a hard pill to swallow. You don't know why, but it was easier to tell him that rather than telling him about your boyfriend. The truth is that your dad died when you were thirteen. That was not recently.
“But there's another thing. My boyfriend, so, my boyfriend and I have problems lately.” That was another white lie. Not just lately, you have been having problems since forever. Now that you know he never actually liked you was even harder.
He nods, like he understands. It makes your courage come back. “We went to a couple therapist, and he told us to move. He told us that if we move, the new environment would make our problems look smaller or something like that… Bullshit.”
A subtle smirk was playing on his face, but he didn't say anything. “We moved and long story short, he just told me he wants to marry me.”
A silent moment.
“Oh” Nicholas’s body stills “And that's a problem because…?”
“Because we have been doing nothing, just arguing all the time, Nicholas! He doesn't even come home. But his mother is a passive aggressive bitch, and she probably wants him to have children so she can be a grandma”
“Damn, that's fucked up” He lets out a sigh, putting his hand on your knee to caress it as reassurance.
Your gaze slips to his hand, and you are hesitant but decide to ask the question that sat on your tongue ever since you stepped in. “Can I sleep here?”
Nicholas doesn't even flinch, he nods right away. “Yes” after a silent beat, he adds “But…”
You sigh, already knowing what's going to come. He will deny you for some stupid reason, or will say that you have to go home at seven am.
Just like he could read your mind, or expression, he says “I’m sorry y/n. But I’m going to Los Angeles with my friends tomorrow. There's a surfing camp and a bunch of kids are waiting for us and-”
“I can go too” You say suddenly, making his eyes widen “I mean, If you want me to, I wasn't being disrespe-”
“Actually, yeah” He nods in agreement “Why not? You can come too”
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You thought the night by Nicholas is going to be somewhat awkward for multiple reasons. First and foremost, you still have a boyfriend! You keep reminding yourself that when you bore into his eyes too much, but fuck, his fault for being so damn good at having eyes.
Then, you remember that he is still your teacher. Actually, this even slipped out of your mouth yesterday. You aren't sure what was the topic, but you added ‘who am I to expect an advice from you, you are just my teacher’
Now, that was something you weren't meant to say. But he just laughed it off and told you he actually is your friend now, not just a teacher. That made your heart drop to your stomach.
Nicholas is way too sweet with you, and you are not used to this. EJ was never this soft. You couldn't help but start comparing the two to each other last night, as you watched Nicholas drift to his dreams.
The next day you woke up to the smell of pancakes. You haven't eaten pancakes since you moved out from your mother, even though it was your favorite breakfast.
You also came to the realization pretty quick that you didn't pack clothes. Nicholas offered to give you his, and you gladly accepted his offer.
Now you were standing in the middle of Honolulu airport with packed bags, trying to figure out which one is your flight and where are Nicholas's friends.
You looked at the board on the top of the wall with a slightly tilted head. “Why are there so many take-off runways? I swear to god there are at least five different letters and ten numbers”
“Right? So unnecessary” Nicholas agreed.
You set your gaze at your ticket again, checking what was the number and letter you were looking for. P7. The randomly chosen letters didn't help the situation, because tell me who the hell would choose P, B and Y as runway letters?
You were very close to crashing out to Nicholas about this when you heard a yell calling his name from afar. Nicholas and you both jolted your head towards the sound, and you spotted two people with luggages approaching you.
When they reached you, they both hugged Nicholas. You weren't exactly sure if these were the friends he talked about earlier, but they for sure looked like close friends.
Then, the one in the front turned towards you. He was shorter than Nicholas, around the same height as you, maybe a few centimeters taller. His hair was cherry red, just like Nicholas's. He looked like he was some kind of porcelain doll, suddenly you couldn't help but ask yourself how can someone be this beautiful.
He gave you a subtle smile and reached out his arms for a hug. “Hi, I’m Harua” he introduced himself when you both let go, and now you weren't scared to give him a smile too.
“Hello, I’m y/n”
“Nice to meet you, y/n” the guy behind Harua speaks, giving his hand out for you to shake it.
He looks way stronger than the other guy, and he is as tall as Nicholas. He wears a sleeveless top and his biceps are showing off pretty much. He has sunglasses on, but you could still see how his facial features were stronger than Harua's or Nicholas's, his jawline was way sharper. His hair was dyed cotton candy pink, which balanced his strong features.
He shook your hand firmly “I’m Maki”
The next twenty minutes were spent looking for the flight, getting on the flight and casual inspections. Harua and Maki were seated next to each other, while you and Nicholas were sitting on the other side of the row. He let you sit next to the window, too.
You were more than nervous before the takeoff. You sat on a plane before, but it was always such a stressful and overwhelming experience for you. You chew on your lips until it bled, tasting your bitter blood on your tongue. At least it distracted you a little bit.
“Are you okay?” Nicholas leaned closer and whispered as he squirmed in his seat, finding the right position to sit in.
“Yeah, just a little nervous” You mumble back, not looking at him.
A few moments later you feel a warm hand touching yours, fingers intertwining with yours. Your eyes widen and you look down at your hand, watching as Nicholas's much bigger palm covers it. The plane began to move, and you froze in your seat. Nicholas caresses the side of your hand slightly, his thumb brushing over the skin.
After the plane was in the air, your body calmed down, but Nicholas didn't let go of your hand for the whole five hours while you got to Los Angeles.
It was way hotter there than it was in Honolulu. You just walked down on the stairs of the plane, and you were already sweating everywhere. Suddenly, you felt jealous of Nicholas and his friends, because they decided they come in sleeveless tops unlike you.
A short sleeve tight T-shirt will be embarrassing in a few minutes, and right now you don't even have deodorant with you. Great.
“Jeez” Maki scoffs, putting back his sunglasses on his face as you got down on the ground from the plane and got your bags. “So fucking hot”
“It's the ground radiating the hotness” Nicholas replies “It won't be this hot on the beach” he puts on sunglasses too.
He threw his leather jacket over his shoulder, and the four of you began to walk out of the airport. The camp is not so far away from the airport, and you decide that it would be the cheapest solution if you would walk there. Maki and Nicholas walk in the front to show the way, chatting about some surfing stuff while you and Harua walk behind them.
The first few minutes pass in silence, both of you being too scared to speak. Then, he suddenly turns his head to you.
“Are you, like, his girlfriend?” Harua asks shyly, keeping his voice low so Nicholas and Maki don't hear him, even though they're deep into their own conversation.
You jolt your head towards him, breath hitching in your throat all of sudden. “What?” you chuckle awkwardly “No, why would I be? I'm just one of his students”
“Oh” Harua says, genuinely dumbfounded “He usually doesn't bring his students to trips like this” he shrugs his shoulders.
“Does he bring his girlfriends?”
“Not really” He says while opening up his handbag and pulling a chocolate bar out of it “We never meet his girlfriends. I wouldn't even call them his girlfriends, they're usually one night stands or situationships”
This new information hit you like a sucker punch, right in the stomach. You never expected Nicholas to be a guy like that, but honestly it made your mind light up. It felt like… you got curious. You couldn't help but ask more.
“Seriously? He never introduced them to you guys? Then how do you know they existed? I mean the one night stands”
Harua let out a sarcastic chuckle, followed with a huff “Come on, we are men at the end of the day” he looked at you, but seeing the confused expression on your face, he explained “He brags about them quite a lot. Nicholas is like that. You don't really know him, I assume. How long have you been his student?”
You gulp, trying to remember the date you moved to Hawaii.
“For around… three weeks, I guess. But we have lessons every day”
“I see” He takes a bite from the chocolate bar then wipes his mouth with the back of his palm “Every day? That's kinda crazy” he side-eyes you “But congratulations, you are officially his longest…” he doesn't finish the sentence, just keeps walking and eating his chocolate bar “Nevermind” he brushes off.
The topic fades into nothingness, but it stays in your mind. You might be a little delusional for overthinking this, but for now you don't even know where to put the things Harua just said.
Soon, the four of you approach the camp by the beach and you put your thoughts away for a little while.
Maki looks back at you and Harua excitedly “Wow, it's a big one!”
“So many children too,” Nicholas adds, patting Maki’s chest.
They were the type of people who genuinely enjoyed their job, and that gave you a warm feeling. You don't see this often in today's environment.
As you got closer to the gate, you came across a security guard. Nicholas did his part of the work and talked with the guard, while you, Maki and Harua started looking inside.
“Come on guys” Nicholas gestured for you and the guard opened the gate, letting you in.
The view of the camp amazed you, you didn't even know where to look. There were small wooden houses lined up along the shore, and gravel paths were built between the houses. It was so modern, especially for a camp.
Suddenly, a woman came up to you, the biggest smile on her face. “Nicholas! Maki! Harua! Nice to meet you guys again. It was a pleasure last time too” She bowed slightly. Then, her eyes set on you. “Oh! I didn't know you have a plus one”
“Nicholas has a plus one” Maki corrected, but Nicholas hit his forearm playfully.
Her smile faltered for a moment, but it lightened up again when she realized. “It’s no problem! You guys are going to be in two bed houses anyways. At least Nicholas will have company” She winks at Maki, who chuckles slightly.
You feel your ears burn with embarrassment, and you are glad your hair covers it at this moment. You wouldn't want any of them staring or picking at you for this.
The lady then turns on her heels and begins to walk quickly, the guys and you following her closely as she talks about the story of the camp and other probably not so interesting stuff like that. However, Nicholas seems to walk a little slower, matching your pace in the back.
“I'm sorry” He apologizes, though you don't know why “I forgot to tell her. I shouldn't have pushed you in an embarrassing situation”
“It’s okay, really” You nod and give him a tight smile. If he was such a player as Harua described him, then why was he so soft with you? He apologized for the smallest things.
You step into one of the wooden houses, where the woman says you should go in. It probably looks like the other ones. It’s almost a perfect square, with a small kitchen next to the door, two beds by the two walls on opposite sites and a small bedside table under the window in the middle, on the opposite wall from the door.
You throw your luggage on the bed and sit down next to it. Damn, it’s hard as fuck. Sleeping will be a problem, you are already sure about that. You glance out of the room through the window. Nicholas definitely wasn't right about it being less hot on the beach than in the airport. The sun beamed down by the sea, not a single cloud was in the sky. You assume it was good for the teachers though, a weather like this is better for teaching swimming and surfing than raining.
At a soft click of the door you turn your head, seeing Nicholas step in after he talked with the woman. He gives you a soft smile, walking closer awkwardly.
“So, what's the plan?” You ask, breaking the silence.
Nicholas sits down on his bed across from yours, in the same line as you so you two face each other.
“Today we get to know the kids, just basic introduction and maybe a little bit of swimming” He begins, fidgeting with the sheet next to him “Tomorrow, we begin the hard work and practice surfing. But they'll have a break too. So nothing serious” He shrugs.
You nod, taking his words in. Two days at the camp is not a big thing after all, even though you would like to spend more time here. With Nicholas.
You find yourself looking him up and down, eyes tracing the way he has his head leaned back towards the wall, and the way his Adams apple moves up and down as he gulps tightly. When you look back into his eyes, he’s looking at you.
You squirm in your place, feeling the tension in the room rise up as none of you say any words.
After a few silent moments, Nicholas breaks the silence, head still bumped back onto the wall “Can I ask you something?”
You nod, letting out a hum.
He licks his lips, unsure if he should ask it or not, but he decides it's the best to communicate. “Why didn't you tell me about your boyfriend earlier?”
The question was expected, but you don't have an exact answer. “I don't really know” You say, pulling your gaze off of him and dropping it to the ground “I guess I just didn't want you to know about him”
Nicholas hums, getting up from the bed. “Why?”
“Why are you asking questions like these?” You chuckle, kind of more out of embarrassment than from humor.
He looks back, his eyes dark but he doesn't say anything for a moment. “I'm just curious about why would he argue with someone like you”
He slips into his Adidas shoes then kneels down to tie the laces.
“Someone like me?” you echo his words, confused.
“Yes” his voice is firm “Someone like you. I mean, you have everything in you a guy could dream of” He stands up and looks back once, but before you could say anything he opens the door and slips out of the house just like he was never there.
A soft click, and the door closes.
Your eyes are fixed on the floor, trying to take his words in. You feel the heat rising up into your cheeks, making them as red as a tomato.
You drink a glass of water before you go after him to the beach, where the kids are already split up in three different groups. One with Harua, one with Maki and one with Nicholas. One group consisted of about ten kids, and you only realized you didn't know what to do when you fully approached them.
The woman you spoke to earlier ran to you when she saw you standing there all alone and told you to sit down on one of the wooden chairs by the bar not so far away from the place Nicholas and his friends were teaching.
You followed her to the bar, and did as you were told so, watching the boys as they were explaining.
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The day passed by pretty fast, but it wasn't a huge surprise since you arrived at the camp quite late in the morning and they could only do the surfing lesson until the sun went down. After that, the wind’s strength rose up and the waves were too big for beginner surfers — kids — to ride.
However, the three guys were watching those waves with awe, feeling disappointed that they couldn't get in the water and ride them.
“Fucking hell, they're so big now” Maki commented, looking out the window like he was a footballer looking at the world cup.
Harua sipped from his beer and made a satisfied sound. “You better stop looking at them, I stopped too because it straight up hurts”
Maki nods “You are right” he put one of his hands on his chest dramatically, like he was grasping onto his pearls “It hurts” he sniffs jokingly, then turns around from the window and sits down on the floor in front of Nicholas's bed, across from you and Harua who were sitting next to each other in front of your bed.
“When is he coming…” Harua muttered, looking at the door and expecting Nicholas to burst into the room with fresh cans of beer and a card game at any given moment.
“I don't know but now I'm getting bored that I can't watch the waves” Maki picks up Harua's glass and takes a sip from the only glass of remaining beer.
“Hey!” Harua snitches from him right away, getting on all fours so he can reach the glass.
Maki just laughs, then makes eye contact with you “y/n, suggest a topic or something. I bet you have a lot on your mind”
You raise your brows “A lot in my mind? What do you mean exactly?”
Maki gives a knowing look to Harua, then chuckles playfully, a boyish smile plastered on his lips “Come on, you know what I mean”
He tsks when you don't answer just give him a confused look.
“You and Nicholas” He explains, and your eyes drop to the ground. “See! that's what I'm talking about” He points it out. “You become all awkward when it comes to him”
You were never an extroverted person, and you felt like you acted awkward with everyone all the time, that's why you didn't have many people to understand you, but this time Maki could read you perfectly. Was he some psychiatrist in his last life?
“Are you guys dating?” He asks again, desperate for answers.
“No, we are not” You shake your head, looking up at him.
“...But you wish” Maki smiles mischievously, and you kick him playfully.
You open your mouth to say something, but the door opens and Nicholas steps in with a bag in one hand and a small pack of cards in his other one.
“That lady was selfish as fuck” Nicholas says, out of breath “She didn't want to give me all the beers”
“Nicholas!” Maki says, nearly yells, like he's celebrating his friend “We were just talking about you”
Nicholas's eyes shift to you for a moment, then back onto Maki’s “Really?”
“Yeah” Maki nodded, sliding a little bit sideways so Nicholas could sit down next to him on the floor.
Nicholas looks at you again, but his expression is unreadable to you. He's still just as mysterious to you as he was before. His friends have been talking about him, but you still can't see him as the person they portrayed him as.
He brought the card game UNO, which was one of your childhood games. You were glad that you didn't have to go through the painful journey of explaining the rules to you or anyone else, cause that would've taken forever, given that you never understood the rules at first.
Harua opens up a can of beer for everyone while Nicholas shuffles the cards in his hands.
“Did you guys say beautiful things about me while I was away?” He asks while giving the cards to everyone.
“Yes, of course.” Maki takes a sip, this time from his own beer “I could only say good things about you, Nicho”
Nicholas chuckles sarcastically “Right”
Maki lets out a hum “By the way” He kisses his teeth, setting his can down “I was just about to get on with talking about your sex life when you stepped in, man.”
The suddenly blurted out words makes your jaw almost drop, you start coughing on the beer. Harua immediately reaches to your back, patting it.
“Why would you do that?” Nicholas asks him when you were done coughing and they made sure you were okay and not dying.
Maki tilts his head “You would do it too if it was me”
It felt like listening to a private conversation, you could tell that Maki and Nicholas were way closer than they were with Harua, because he hasn't said any words in the past half an hour in this conversation. Just like you.
“No, I absolutely wouldn't. Because I’m a good friend” Nicholas smirks at the boy beside him.
“Okay, well” Maki shrugs, pulling the glass to his lips “We all know you want to get y/n laid, I just wanted to prepare her. With words, obviously”
You are glad there wasn’t any beer in your mouth, because right now you would surely be coughing and choking from it. Nicholas stops looking at his cards and glances at you, getting embarrassed at Maki’s words.
For a moment, a very small moment, his whole body stills and his shoulders tense. But after, he drops them like nothing happened and ends up chuckling. “Y/n knows nothing about my sex life” he says casually.
Maki’s eyes drift to you, a mischievous glint in them “She would like to find out things about it though”
“That's true” Harua joins the conversation in the worst way possible, taking a sip from his own beer. “She was asking stuff from me before”
You bury your face in your palms, absolutely speechless by their sudden bluntness. You are not sure if they're like this all the time or is it just the beer.
“Uno” Nicholas says firmly, throwing a red two at the top of the deck.
“The way you talk about me is really concerning” you comment, looking at your cards. Fuck, you only have blue. You take up one.
“It's not our fault you are being obvious” Harua answers, putting down one of his five cards in his hands. “But this goes to Nicholas too. Seriously, you thought we would let the fact slide that you never introduced any girl to us?”
Nicholas smiles and bites down his lip, dropping his last card after Maki takes up one from the deck “I won” he ignores what Harua said, and stretches his arms above his head.
Harua rolls his eyes and stands up, beer can in his hands. “It's getting late. There will be a bunch of screaming children around me tomorrow, so I should use my time out and sleep.” he states “Maki, you are coming too” He demands, and Maki stands up and follows him out right away.
They leave the house, and suddenly it becomes all silent when the lock clicks. You and Nicholas stay on the floor across from each other, only about one metre between you.
He looks at you with a straight face, his eyes dark again, just like they were when he said that thing about you being every guy's dream.
“How many girlfriends have you had before?” You ask him, kind of all of a sudden.
The question doesn't make him flinch, he doesn't take his eyes off of you either “I don't know. I only remember one”
“You don't know?”
“I had girls but they weren't really my girlfriends”
You knew exactly what he meant by this, the things Harua told you at the airport flashes into your mind.
“What's your boyfriend's name?” He asks back.
You swallow hard. “EJ”
The thought of him makes you overly uncomfortable, especially now, in this… moment with Nicholas. Even the way he looks at you, he looks so possessive you could bear the sight of this every day. You squirm in your place, your jeans getting uncomfortable.
Nicholas's eyes trace down your neck to your chest, then back onto your face. He gulps, then says “EJ… What a disgusting name”
You couldn't help but chuckle at that, and he cracks a smile too. “Do you want to… tell me more about him?” He asks, suddenly getting shy.
You bob your head anyways. You weren't that vulnerable, but with Nicholas it was so easy. Too easy. You could tell him everything, and this went vice versa.
“What do you want to know?” You ask, fidgeting with the edge of your shirt.
He looks up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. Then, when he gets the idea, he smirks at you “Do you guys do it?”
You knit your eyebrows. “What?”
He shifts, leaning a bit closer to you so he can whisper. “You know… You said he wants children and stuff”
You shrug, trying to keep your demeanor nonchalant “I— well—” you swallow.
He sees you fidgeting with your shirt out of anxiety, and he grabs your wrist to make you stop. Both yours and his eyes fall to the place where the skin gets in contact, and you look up into each other's eyes at the same time too. He was still leaning close to you, and it seems like he even shifted closer cause now your knees were also touching as you sat on the floor with crossed legs.
You gulp hard as he caresses your palm with his fingers “Stop that” he commands, and you nod.
After a few moments, you finally swallow the lump in your throat and find your voice again. “We do a couple of stuff…but…” you shrug, but he isn't satisfied with the answer.
He looks at you expectedly, something soft lingering in his gaze. “But?” he whispers. He puts his palm on your knee and presses down, tilting his head.
You hold eye contact, swallowing again. “He never liked me enough to do that”
His eyes drop down to your knees, shifting closer. Then, he gets on fours so he can get even closer to you slowly, pressing a gentle kiss on your jaw. “Does he do that?” he whispers close to your ear, and you feel a shiver going down on your spine at the vibration of his voice.
You shake your head “Usually not”
Nicholas gets closer, this time licking your earlobe slightly. He was shy with it, the lick was so gentle you could almost not feel it. “Does he do this?” he asks after, and you shake your head again.
He moves down slowly, and you couldn't help but let him do whatever he wants to. You were so shocked by this that you didn't even take in what was even happening, not fully yet.
He hovers over your neck for a while, still being on all fours. He clearly hesitates, but then he decides to do it and he presses his wet lips to your thyroid bulge, sucking on it ever so slightly. You tilt your head back and it hits the edge of the bed, letting your mouth hang open as he works his mouth on your neck, wandering sideways and up and down too.
He backs up after a few wet kisses, just so he can look up into your eyes and say breathlessly “Does he do this, y/n?”
You shake your head and let your hands get into his strawberry hair, pushing him back and urging him to continue what he did before, chasing the feeling of his lips on your neck.
And he does just as you wish him to, putting one of his hands on the back of your neck so he can hold you while he kisses and licks all over your neck. He sucks on a spot, and you just hope it won't give you a mark.
Then he moves even lower, his lips finding the exposed skin above your t-shirt, aka your collar bone. He licks on it too, you feel like you are entering heaven. When he stops, he lets go of your neck and sits up. “Does he do that?” He asks, this time his voice becomes a little hoarse as he speaks.
You shake your head slowly. You can't stop staring into his eyes. He looks like a cat, but only just a tiny bit. You swallow, finding it hard to speak. Also, you are sure your whole face is red at this point.
“Nicho” you whisper, or whine when you feel his hands on your hips, ready to get you out of your t-shirt.
He stops immediately and looks at you.
You shake your head steadily, a kind of disappointment in your eyes when you remember Harua's words from the airport earlier, and also Nicholas's, which confirmed the theories. “I don't want to be one of your girls” you say, voice cracking by the time you finish the sentence. “I'm not like that”
He drops his gaze, jaw clenching in frustration. You could see the way thoughts clouded his mind all of a sudden. “Y/n… you wouldn't be just one of my girls” he says, his voice being soft again.
You feel your stomach drop at that, but looking into his eyes you could see that he was telling you the truth. He was being honest and vulnerable, and you found yourself bobbing your head and insisting him to continue.
Nicholas takes off your shirt in no time, and his eyes drop to your chest immediately. His eyes were filled with hunger, and he shifts and gets on his knees so he can undo your bra too. While he reaches behind your back, you run your eyes through his shoulders and neck, and you sniff him slightly. Nicholas always smells so good, you already noticed that on the first week when you went to his house for surfing lessons. He always wears the same cologne, seems like he knows what he likes and sticks with it.
When he drops your bra to the floor, he backs up again, looking at your freed titties with admiration in his eyes. Then without a warning he lowers his head and sucks on your right nipple. You arch your back at the sudden friction, letting out a breathy moan. His lips wrap around your hard nipple, sucking your titty in as much as he can while he cups the other one softly with his other hand. He massages it, but he's subtle with it. His mouth may be a little aggressive and hungry, but he's a whole other person with his hands. Nicholas for sure knows how to please a woman. “Fuck, y/n, you have the most perfect tits I ever seen” he mumbles, and you feel the vibration in his voice in your whole body.
You close your eyes, sinking in the amazing feeling. Your tit is now fully covered in his hot saliva. When he looks up, his mouth is plump and wet, and it makes your thighs clench together in desperation.
His eyes are hazy when he asks, “Does…does he do this?”
“No” you moan out when his other hand cups your other breast too, massaging both at the same time.
You straighten your legs, so now he's kneeling between them.
“Open your eyes” he commands with a firm voice when he sees your head being thrown back onto the edge of the bed, getting lost in the feeling of his big palms on your tits. You obey him again, opening your eyes just to face him possessively looking down at you.
He lets go of your breasts, and you want to cry out at the loss of his hands. At the same time, you are glad you have time to catch your breath. Not too much though, because he shifts back so he can lower his head to kiss on your stomach, just right under your chest.
You let out a moan, hands finding his hair again. He licks the spot he kissed, then starts to make a path of saliva with his tongue, going down back to the edge of your sweatpants.
“Babe” he whispers, and you are very near to losing your mind. You look down at him, finding him looking up at you while his mouth hovers above your pants. “Can you lay on the bed, pretty please?”
He doesn't have to say it twice. You stand up while he stays kneeling on the same spot. Nicholas watches you lay on the bed, head now thrown back against the wall. You spread your legs slightly, teasing him.
He looks even more mesmerizing in the dim light, now that the sun almost fully went down and the only light was a reading light of a standing lamp next to his bed. Clouds were filling the sky, dark clouds. You could hear a few droplets of rain knock on the roof, and there wasn't much light coming in from outside, only the sound of rain and wind.
He smirks at you and puts his elbows next to your body to cage your lower half while he licks on your stomach again, earning a satisfied whimper from you. Nicholas hooks his fingers onto your pants and pulls it down, hinting small kisses at the edge of your lacy panties now.
You feel your wetness between your thighs, and you are sure he also noticed it. He goes lower, and you watch as he presses his lips to the wet patch forming on your panties. You shift your body lower, pushing yourself to his face more and more. His tongue works fast, and you already see stars even though he only started just now, though a fabric.
That part kind of feels ridiculous.
He moves back, breathing heavily as his eyes never leave your core. He pulls down your panties with one move, revealing your aching core. “Please” you mutter, your voice barely even audible but he still hears it and smirks.
He eyes your wet pussy, your juices already dripping down on your folds. “All wet for me, hm?” Nicholas hums, satisfied with the view.
He hovers closer, his nose bumping onto your clit teasingly. “Have you ever been this wet for him, jagiya?”
“Never” You breathe out, trying to restrain yourself from moaning, but your chest rising then falling heavily betrays you.
Nicholas finally gives your aching core a lick, looking up to see your reaction. Your head flies back, eyes closing in pleasure. A guttural moan leaves your mouth as his hot tongue darts out again, slowly licking you from your hole to your clit. When you look down, you are faced with those pretty eyes that you have been admiring ever since you first saw them.
You never thought you would see them in a kind of situation like this ever, but the fantasy was always hiding in the back of your mind. Now that it finally happened, you could admit that they were an even better sight than you imagined.
“Fuck, Nicholas” you mumble as he gives you another lick, now getting deeper. His nose bumps onto your clit with every lick, but his eyes never leave yours. “Your eyes… they're so pretty”
He sucks on your clit, and your thighs are beginning to tremble. You try to close them, caging his head between your legs, but he stops them and sets them down on the bed with a firm movement, nails digging into your skin.
Nicholas sucks on your folds, and you can't do anything else other than letting the sounds escape you, and letting your hands run through his strawberry hair. You grind on his face when he shoves his tongue inside of you. He stops the movements with his head as you start grinding, riding his tongue in a steady rhythm.
You already could feel your orgasm getting closer, Nicholas being able to take you to your climax with only his tongue kinda surprising you. But before that could happen, he pulls out of you with his tongue and smiles at you with that teethy smirk he always does. You whimper at the loss, prompting yourself on your forearms so you could see him better.
“You thought I’m going to make you come with my tongue, and that's all?” He asks, one eyebrow going up.
You gulp, feeling your stomach knotting.
“If that's the case, you were wrong” he laughs, looking up and down your naked body. “I'm taking my time. If the thing you said is true, you were never really pleased” he grabs your hips, pulling you down from the bed onto his lap. “You deserve to know how good it feels like” you put your hands on his shoulders, and he looks up at you.
All this time, this was the first moment you truly felt conscious about how exposed you were, while he had all of his clothes on still. “What do you mean?” you ask, voice low.
“You know what I mean” he teases, vaguely rolling his hips — still in his sweatpants — upwards, so you could feel his hard bulge with your bare pussy.
He looks down at your chest, looking at your breasts like they're the best things he has ever seen in his life. “Jagiya, I always wanted to do this. Since the moment I saw you” he admits, pinching your nipple with two of his fingers, making you hiss.
He bites down his lips, grinding up again. “Fuck” he cusses before he gestures you to get off of him. You do as quickly as possible, and he takes off his shirt. Your eyes fall on his toned chest, it's not like you haven't seen it before during lessons, but seeing it like this was way different. You would admire it, but then he takes off his sweatpants with his boxers too.
You gulp again, your throat getting dry at the sight all of a sudden. He isn't that big, I would rather say average.
But still, this is like your… second time with a man, and you haven't seen cock in a long time, which was kinda embarrassing. Nicholas didn't look bothered in any way, though.
He looks at you and gives his cock a few strokes before asking “Missionary or cowgirl?”
Your eyebrows shoot up at the sudden question. “What?”
“Whatever, just come here” he urges, pulling you back onto his lap by your hips.
When he sees the hesitation on your face, he lets go of you “Is everything okay? We don't have to do it if you are not ready”
You melt internally at his sweetness, the constant checks up making you shy. But you would never miss out on this opportunity. Ever. “I'm okay I just… I haven't done it in a long time” you let out an awkward giggle at the confession, but he still doesn't back up.
“It's okay” he says, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear “I will be gentle”
You nod, feeling way better now. You bite down your lower lip when you sink down on his cock, grabbing onto his shoulders with both of your hands. He lays against his bed on the floor, this time he is the one who throws his head back.
He clearly tries with all of his strength to not move and fuck into you, and you pretty much appreciate that. You try to get adjusted to his length when you fully sink down, taking deep breaths.
“Are you… are you alright?” he asks, voice shaky.
You bob your head heavily, letting out a whine “Shit, yes, yes I am”
When he sees you calming down a little bit, he begins to move, grabbing onto your hips while he vaguely grinds up, rolling his hips into you.
You let out a small moan, burying your head onto the crook of his neck, your bodies melting onto each other.
Your chest is pressed against his, nipples still rock hard. He sets a steady rhythm. Sometimes he gets out of his tempo and fucks just a little too hard, but then reminds himself that he has to be soft with you. And he keeps his promise, he is gentle.
“Fuck, you are so tight” he grumbles out, collapsing onto you as his rhythm gets fucked up again. He fucks deep into you, feeling every inch of your wet pussy around him. He hits your spot with every move too, giving you a feeling you never felt before.
You can't even say anything, your mouth just hangs open while messy moans leave it. You throw your head back, and when you clench around him, he whimpers.
He lets out small cries amongst his high pitched moans, and you grab him by his hair to tilt his head back and look into his eyes. “Are you crying?” you ask.
He doesn't answer, just frowns with his lips as he lets out a muffled moan again, looking away from you. But you tilt his head back again, grabbing him by his neck and keeping him like that so he can look at you. He speeds up a little bit, but still keeping it gentle while he is feeling you up, you being on his lap, bouncing on him so perfectly. “Does EJ do this? Hm?” he breathes, and you answer with a loud moan as you shake your head.
You look into each other's eyes as you hold him down by his thigh to gesture to him to stop. He stops immediately, breathing heavily. You run your hands on his chest, then on his worked out abs. You lift yourself then drop down on his cock again, making him cuss and grunt.
“Do that again, jagiya, please” he begs, and you redo your movements from before. You speed up after a few messy ups and downs, earning him to moan out your name multiple times as you ride him.
When he gets used to the rhythm of you using his cock, he kisses your collarbone again, then moves to your neck to suck on it and leave marks all over it. You don't deny it.
“Fuck, I’m close” he mumbles and whimpers again, looking up at you, then down on your chest, seeing the way your tits bounce every time you lift yourself then sink down again. He was enjoying being used like this, he bites down his bottom lip hungrily. He grabs you by your hips and sets you down on the floor suddenly, trapping you by putting both of his hands next to your head while he's still inside of you.
He rolls his hips, his balls tapping against your wetness every time he bottoms out. “I would never hurt you, y/n” he admits vulnerably, his breath caressing your neck. Your body moves up and down on the floor, feeling the roughness of the rug on your back. It's going to burn later.
“If you stay with me” he continues “I will never treat you like that— fuck—” he cusses, moving his hands to your hips and digging his nails into your skin as he lifts you up a little bit so he can get deeper in, a better position for both of you.
“Can I…can I come inside you, pretty baby?” he asks you suddenly.
You nod your head, looking up at him with a hazy gaze, observing the way one strand of his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He looks down at you when he reaches his climax, giving you a deep and slow last thrust that makes you arch your back. He crumbles onto you, head burying onto the crook of your neck.
You feel his delicate cum filling you up, covering your walls. The thought makes you come too, your juices mixing together.
You stay like that laying down a little more, your bodies hugging. Then, after a few minutes of gathering yourself together, he pulls out of you and sits down back against his bed. You get up too, legs trembling when you drop down next to him on the floor, head against the edge of his bed while you both face the ceiling.
Nicholas looks at you with hazy eyes, like his mind is filled with multiple different thoughts at the same time and he can't decide which one to voice out first.
You reach out your hand, wiping a tear from his cheek.
He cringes and drops his gaze to the floor, feeling embarrassed by begging and crying to you.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask, tilting your head.
He looks up at you again, swallowing hard before he milks the words out of himself. “Do you still want to be with him?” he asks, and your eyebrows shot up “I mean, after this”
For a moment, your mind wanders. Did he do all of this to impress you? Because as much as you have a whole damn boyfriend, it might have worked. Then, you remember that your boyfriend is actually a dickhead and you would leave him anytime.
“I don't want to be with him at all,” you reply, shaking your head.
Nicholas straightens his back and looks at you with sparking eyes and a huge smile on his face. “Great. Tell him that you guys are done, and I’ll eat you out again”
You laugh at his suggestion, but deep down you know you would and will do it “Woah, all of a sudden?”
He knits his eyebrows together, like he was confused by your answer. “Yeah? Why not?”
“Over call?”
“No, over text. He was always a dickhead, wasn't he? He deserves it” Nicholas says and reaches up, caressing your face softly. “Right now” he adds.
You roll your eyes playfully before getting up to walk over to your bag and get your phone out. His eyes never leave your curvy body as you stand up, admiring you the whole time.
You quickly type the text onto the chats between you and EJ, but you don't send it yet. Nicholas sees you hesitating, and he pulls you by your ankle, gesturing to get back down on the floor.
He watches your screen when you sit down back to him closely.
“I don't know what to write,” you sigh.
He shrugs, just wanting this to be over as soon as possible “I feel like you should tell him everything. Tell him that he's an asshole and that you don't want to be with him anymore. Oh, and that you love me”
He smirks, and you shove him away by his shoulder playfully, but you still type in what he said. Most of the things.
After a while, you form your text and send it to EJ, but then Nicholas offers to put the phone down. So you two end up talking about whatever, mostly your upcoming plans for the next few days.
You two decide that it's for the best if you don't tell Maki and Harua right away, and maybe you should try living together for a while. EJ won't leave the house you two bought in Hawaii, and you don't have anywhere else to go. Plus, you have been spending almost all of your days by Nicholas's house, so it's not going to make a difference.
Now he went to take a shower, and you are sitting by the window sill (dressed up now), watching the rain falling down into the dark night.
You wonder about a lot of things, firstly about the upcoming days. You never thought Hawaii could bring you so many new opportunities for new starts, in so many ways. You are also not sure if your therapist will like to hear about this whole thing, but that's his problem.
There's one thing that you are sure about: you are happier than ever. You like Nicholas, and just because at first it looked like it was something forbidden, it doesn't mean it can't be fun at the end.
synopsis | in a fear-driven, adrenaline-soaked haze, you confess your feelings for your best friend. who cares that he's spiderman?
details | spiderman!nicholas x female!reader, bffs to lovers, mentions of farting, pining, burglary, hostage situation, violence, mentions of weapons, descriptions of injury, blood, so much dialogue, i fucking love dialogue, cursing, banter, angsty moments, self-deprecation, love confession, mutual pining, mentions of alcohol and substances, making out, 18+ SMUT MINORS DNI, groping, oral (f receiving), riding (p-in-v), unprotected sex (not for you. this is fake.), creampie (not for you. this is fake.), lowercase intended, no use of y/n
wc | 9.5k
from the author | i love spiderman and i love friends to lovers and i love nicholas and i love you, dearest reader
you slid your hand into the bag next to you, although it felt more like a deplenishing, foil carcass as you picked at the chip crumbs left in the bottom. every evening was like this; you sat at your desk, illuminated only by the vibrant, swirling colors of maps and graphs and charts. it wasn’t much, but it was honest work. if you were lucky, all you had to do was flip through traffic cams, monitor live street footage, and polish off whatever snack had been calling your name all day.
“you got a train on sixty-first,” you announced, seemingly to no one in the comfort of your bedroom as you popped a pathetic third of a chip into your mouth, “don’t get hit.”
the little green dot on your computer screen redirected, hooking a sharp left and avoiding the elevated subway track altogether. you rubbed your hands together, partially because you were satisfied with your expert directional skills and partially to clear your fingers of leftover crumbs. in the headset hugging your ears, lively static roared, followed by nicholas’s breathless voice. “can you crunch those chips any louder?”
“i changed my mind, actually. take a shortcut through sixty-first.”
nicholas had been the city’s favorite web-slinger for a couple of months, but he had been your best friend for way longer. you were grateful that he trusted you with his secret; you’d met him for a late-night frozen yogurt run, and he had pulled his t-shirt collar to the side in line for the toppings, revealing the royal blue and red that littered every front page of every newspaper. of course, you thought he was pranking you. not because you didn’t think he was capable of being a superhero- there was actually no doubt in your mind about that- but because he was a terrible liar. throughout your entire friendship, nicholas couldn’t so much as swipe a sip of your soda without looking extremely guilty. his hands were always the first giveaway, since they were too steady when he was lying. he overcompensated by seeming too sure of himself, palms pressed flat to his sides, chest puffed. like a caricature of an honest man. but that night, in front of the chocolate sprinkles and the gummy worms, his fingers trembled as he pulled the shirt collar away from his neck. his voice waivered when he asked, “are you upset with me?”
you hadn’t been upset with him; you could not have possibly been. instead, you were upset with yourself. of course, you had noticed his absence when he skipped your friend group’s weekly game nights. you’d searched for him at every party, even when he had texted you some loose excuse about dog sitting or working extra hours, but you had never asked him about the dog or how his shift went. you’d never showed any interest about any of it. your ignorance to his situation made you feel like an awful, terrible friend, one whom nicholas still, for some reason, confided in. he had trusted you to not only keep his secret but to help him navigate his newfound responsibility, all from the comfort of your apartment. you had been upset with yourself, too, for the dull ache in your chest when you realized he wasn’t confessing something else to you in line for frozen yogurt.
you watched the green dot continue its consistent strides across your screen, the balmy beep of his vitals in the bottom left corner pacifying any nerves you might have had over the speed of his swings. his pulse was impressively steady at such heights, spiking only just before his webs made contact with the next rooftop, as if his new instincts might fail him. “you’re funny,” his voice cut through again, zero traces of humor in his tone, “you chew loud as fuck, though.”
“i can hear every time you fart in the suit, by the way,” you added, fishing for another chip just to add fuel to the fire, “you’re disgusting.”
“i’d like to see you try doing this shit without letting a little something slip,” nicholas countered, and you could hear the smile in his voice. you tracked the moving dot before you with the sounds of his webs stretching beneath his weight, “and i bet you’ve heard worse than that in your little eavesdropping sessions.”
“yeah, i wish you’d stop doing that,” you sighed into your mic, leaning back in your chair.
“what?” nicholas’s smirk was audible, his arrogance dripping through your headset, “having sex with other girls? are you jealous?”
“having sex in the suit,” you pulled the mic as close to your mouth as you could, just to get it through his skull. one aspect of nicholas’s superhero persona that you didn’t fully expect was the amplified sex appeal. he had always been attractive, even when the two of you were in school. your classmates, all the way through university, would befriend you with the sole intentions of asking you to set them up with him. so while you were very popular for all the wrong reasons, nicholas bled charisma in sweatpants and a hoodie and basically had to scrape suitors off his arm at every turn. you admitted it- nicholas was hot, and, if it were possible, he was even hotter bound by spandex, the ridges of his muscles and slopes of his body taut and accentuated by the textured fabric.
nicholas hesitated, most likely waiting for the ringing in his ears to subside. “if it helps, i take the suit off. mask stays on, though. don’t you worry.”
you were all too familiar with the fact that he kept the mask on during his activities. only one time had you been concerned with the stationary nature of his tracker and the quick increase of his heartrate and slipped your headset over your ears. you’d received your answer before you could even ask what the holdup was, the moans and panting enough to tell you all you needed to know. you had swiped the headset off your ear so fast that you almost ignored the heat that pooled in your stomach, the twitch in your finger that wanted to reach for the headphones again. your mind betrayed you that night, conjuring flashes of nicholas’s sculpted torso, damp with sweat, and his thighs flexing, shifting that one delicious vein on his hip you’d mentally traced a thousand times. you should have known he would have turned the spiderman image into some kind of fetish, and you should have known you’d fall for it. and more. “it doesn’t help, and i am worried,” you said, , “it is my only job to make sure you don’t get, like, sniped or flattened. the least you could do is send a text.”
“right, you’re right,” nicholas sighed to himself, “i’ll text next time and let you know i’m getting my web shooters unclogged.”
“shit,” you muttered, sitting up straight in your desk chair. you swiped the almost empty chip bag away from your keyboard, blowing a direct gust of air over the keys to clear it of stray crumbs.
nicholas sucked his teeth, “didnt like that one? what about ‘my spidey senses are tinglinggggg’?”
you scrolled through the panel of security footage on your screen, the black and white boxes winking with commotion. people shuffled past, frantic and panicked. bulky figures stood brazen in the center of a convenience store, masks pulls over their faces and weapons in hand. you zoomed in on the pixelated image; hunkered behind barely stocked shelves were civilians. “nicholas,” you steadied your voice, a contrast to his joking, lilted tone, “there’s a robbery at the corner store about five blocks from you, th-the one with the mural and the backwards toilet.”
outside your window, the sun had long been set, but the city was alive, bright. streetlights flickered, bike bells clinked over the constant whir of traffic. the corner store was close to your apartment. you passed it every day on your walk home, and the owner would usually let you swipe a candy bar if you came in late enough. if you were bordering on drunk after a long night of bar hopping with nicholas, he would slide you a cold bottle of water. you watched nicholas, his green dot, shift directions, swinging at impressive and impending speeds toward the store. he asked, “how many?”
“looks like four,” you gnawed on the inside of your cheek, “they’re armed, nico. try not to escalate anything. it looks like a hostage situation.”
armed was a bit of an understatement. whatever these guys were up to, this stunt at the store was merely a test run. their weapons were unlike anything you’d seen, far from the typical handgun you’d seen nicholas satiate with a web a dozen times, and even further from a crowbar or pocket knife; these guys weilded otherworldly weaponry. literally. they radiated white-hot power, barrels glowing even in the grainy security footage, the existence of which made you even more skeptical about their intentions. one of the guys wore a device as a backpack, a nozzle connected to a tube slithering around his shoulders. you’d bet it was venomous, too. this type of villain was far beyond your pay-grade, which was a net zero dollars, and even further beyond your scope of knowledge. it seemed… wrong. all of it, but nicholas was already in pursuit, already touching down at the scene.
you watched with your hand partially covering your face as nicholas, barely rendered in black and white, slipped through a broken window behind the men. his broad frame peeked from either side of the metal shelving as he slinked toward the civilians in the corner, lingering in the plentiful blindspots provided by their masks. through your headset, you could hear muffled and muddled speech, panicked gasps, and nicholas’s soothing voice promising safety. you knew he would provide, even if it put himself in danger. he whispered, knowing you could see him on the camera, “they’ve got the owner up front. think i can sneak these three out the way i came in?”
“if you can do it while they’re distracted,” you kept your voice low, even though no one could possibly hear you but him, “and be careful.”
distracted was not the word you would use to describe them, though, as they cornered the store owner at the front counter. if they wanted the money in the safe, all they needed to do was melt the lock with the atomic goo shooter they each had resting under their arms. there was zero need for a combination, for a show like this. it was a display of force, of power. it was a trap. and you caught onto it too late, just as nicholas ushered the group of three hostages in a cluster on the back wall toward the gap in the shattered store window.
your voice roared to life in his ear, “wait, nico-”
and then everything fell apart. you watched, eyes unfaltering with horror, as nicholas all but threw the civilians out of the store. you knew they’d need stitches from the glass lining the window and the shards on the sidewalk outside, but at least they were alive, something you could only hope for nicholas as he ducked behind a shelf, shooting a web from his hand and pulling another toward him as a barricade. in your headset, you could hear him grunting, and you could hear the commotion in tandem with the shaking, blurry footage before you. it’s spiderman! get him! the men corralled around him, zapping their weapons in an intimidating performance. nicholas cleared his throat, his pulse spiking, “you gotta catch me first, idiots.”
the scene erupted in mayhem; nicholas pulled two displays down on top of the guys, using their magazine covered bodies as a trampoline as he cleared his way to the other side of the room, throwing various snack and tourist items at the remaining two guys, the plastic wrapped sweets and handheld fans bouncing gracefully off their chests. you heard the hum of their weapons before you saw it, and you could only imagine how bright the glow was up-close. in a blaze of destruction, you watched nicholas evade the hot kiss of fire, basically running on top of the closely arranged shelving, his arms working faster than his brain. thankfully. “hey! that’s not fair,” he yelped, “i dont have a big fancy plasma ray!”
and then it all went dark- the footage ceased, leaving nothing but an empty, static hum. you flipped through the other cameras nearby, still hearing the clattering and zapping and whirring of whatever extraterrestrial technology nicholas was up against, but ultimately found nothing. you fullscreened his vitals, “i lost visual. get out of there, nicholas. im serious.” all you could do was wait. you slipped the headset off your ears, but you could still hear the faint grunting and smart-ass one-liners, watching as his heartrate spiked with the clatter, as his blood pressure dropped, as his respitatory rate climbed higher and higher. you had tunnel vision on that little blinking green dot in the center of chaos. it seemed to stir in circles, an endless loop from one corner of the room to another. you wondered how many times it could spin before it would eventually stop.
you wondered and wondered until, finally, it did. after what felt like hours, the commotion on the other end ceased, the digital green fleck stalling out in an alleyway a block down. you weren’t sure when he had left the shop or how you’d missed it, but, thankfully, he was out of there. he wasn’t running, but his heart was thumping a mile a minute. and so was yours. you slipped the headset back on with a pit low in your stomach and whispered, “nico?”
his breathing was ragged on the other side, and you could barely make out what he was saying, as if his earpiece got knocked loose, “how about, ‘getting a bit sticky tonight’?”
“what?”
“so you don’t intrude on my hookups,” he winced, “what if i texted you that im ‘getting sticky’? does that sound good?”
“that sounds fucking awful,” you admitted, the heaving of your chest evening out the more he talked. at least you knew he wasn’t too injured to be a dumbass. “they’re all terrible.”
he chuckled to himself, and the sound made your breath catch in your throat. he had always been the full package: handsome, genuine, funny. the two of you could make a joke out of nothing and laugh until your sides stitched, smacking one another when your cackling fizzled into gasps. you’d be absolutely breathless, wiping your tears with your shirt. then, nicholas would wipe his tears with your shirt. and it would all start again. that kind of chemistry only found you once, and you’d refused to ever let him go. it pained you to hear his laugh, now, stifled by whatever injuries he’d sustained in the corner store. he coughed, sighing deep. you asked, “are you okay?”
“took a ray gun to the shoulder,” nicholas’s voice was weak, amplified by the terrible sound quality, “better that than the ass, though. that’s what i always say.”
“be serious with me. is it bad?” you stood up as you interrogated him, picking mindlessly at your fingernails. it felt like the city had surrendered, suddenly too quiet. the streetlamps hummed louder, traffic slowing. “can you swing home?”
nicholas inhaled deep, heaving and huffing as he lifted himself off the ground. he choked out a pained noise, and you could practically imagine him doubled over, holding his shoulder like it would numb some of his pain. the beeping on your screen increased rapidly as he stood, his heartrate quickly surpassing yours. “fuck,” he gulped, “no, i can’t. i could try-”
“don’t,” you blurted before he could even consider making any of his injuries worse, for his own sake and for the sake of the community he swore to protect when he put on the suit. and for your sake, as well. the last thing you needed was him losing his strength mid-swing. “walk to mine- my roommate’s out for a few days.”
you expected a fight. you basically heard him nagging, you want me to walk to your apartment, suit out and everything? as if there weren’t spiderman impersonators on every corner. no one would have batted an eye. instead of arguing, nicholas caved with an exhausted sigh. “okay,” he sniffled, and it broke your heart.
when you saw nicholas again, he was in color: royal blue, black, and so much more red than you were used to. he’d had enough strength reserved to climb your building’s fire escape and rap three times on your window. it was still cracked at the bottom, just enough for you to slot your fingers in and push the rest of the way up, revealing his masked face. a precautionary strand of web billowed in the city’s warm breaths, one he used to tether himself to the building, just in case. you held out a shaking hand to him, and you were thankful your heartrate wasn’t the one displayed on the computer across the room when he took it. his hands were warm even through the material of the suit, damp with what you hoped was sweat. you steadied him as he slipped through the window frame, and he let you.
his injuries were worse than he claimed. ‘ray gun to the shoulder’ your ass. his shoulder was not the only place he was hit with a ray gun. his suit was tattered to bit on his torso, his shin, and the side of his mask was scorched, tattered down to his neck. you grabbed his face, instinctively, rolling the material around his neck up and up, slowly in case you revealed any new, secret lacerations. when you pulled the mask the rest of the way off his head, his hair poofed to life, falling almost perfectly over his sticky forehead, into his red-brimmed eyes. your fingers gently grabbed his chin, turning his head from side-to-side, scanning for signs of hurt but finding only a scratch in front of his ear and a cut on his lip. blood pooled there as he let a smile overtake his tired face, red teeth still shining as he asked, “what’s the damage, doc?”
“not sure,” you said, tongue prodding your cheek as you feigned concern, “does this hurt?” you stuck your finger in your mouth, and then you stuck your finger in his ear. nicholas gasped, tucking his head into his shoulder and shoving your hand away. and then, he winced, coughing out a laugh and ghosting his palm over his stomach. seeing him in pain was worlds worse than hearing him. his brows seemed permanently creased, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, both from the fight and having to keep himself upright after. he didn’t have to do that, anymore, at least not by himself. “show me,” you coaxed.
nicholas stepped out of what was left of the suit, kicking it absentmindedly under your bed if only to distract from the fact that he was bloodied and bruised and standing in nothing but his boxers. and you were so fucking close to him, warm hands smoothing over his neck, down his chest, picking up his hands and inspecting every individual knuckle on his fingers. you bent them, squeezed them. you spun him around to check his sides, traced the dip in the center of his back. that one might have been selfish, but it had to be done. checking reflexes, or whatever. there were reflexes in your back, right?
his shins were merely scraped, as if he’d tripped in a parking lot. his shoulder, however, was worse than you anticipated, the gash deep and trickling a thick stream of blood down his arm now that the suit was no longer there to absorb it. you told him to stay, like a newly trained puppy, even though you knew he wouldn’t- couldn’t- go anywhere, and you slipped into the next room to grab whatever first-aid supplies you could find. some of the items you grabbed weren’t even first-aid, but you couldn’t think straight knowing your best friend was possibly bleeding out in your bedroom. and when you returned to the room, nicholas had slumped down into the floor, leaning back against the side of your bed. his head was leaned forward, legs outstretched before him. you’d sat with him like that before, once, when the two of you ate a little bit too much of a brownie your mutual friend had made. you stared out the window until the sun came up, unsure if you blinked even once the whole night. nicholas said you did, so you did.
“still with me?” you half-joked as you crouched down in front of him. you dumped the supplies in a messy pile beside him, scrunching an old towel on the floor under his elbow to soak up the dripping blood.
“i fucked it up,” he mumbled, voice quiet but broken, “the suit, and the mask. its all fucked.”
“hey,” you put your hand on his other shoulder, a different kind of burning, and squeezed gently, “we’ll fix it.”
you reached for a cloth, warm and wet, and wiped at the dried blood on his bicep. soft, delicate swirls on his skin left angry red splotches, like his cheeks when he was embarrassed or too sweaty. and when you inched closer to the wound itself, your touch was tender, like he was fragile. in many ways, he was- he just refused to show it. like any mask, his occasionally cracked, letting you see fragments of the turmoil beneath his cool, unbothered exterior. you dabbed the cloth against the gash in his skin, just once to see if the blood had stopped flowing, and nicholas’s entire body jerked beneath you. he sucked in a breath through stained, gritted teeth. you squeezed his other shoulder again, whispering, “sorry.”
“you’ll fix it, you mean,” nicholas grumbles, keeping his head hanging carelessly on its axis, “that’s how this works. i mess things up, and you fix them.” he leaned his head back, then, against the side of your bed. for the first time all night, his gaze fell on yours, and he was so tired. in more ways than one. you furrowed your brows, taken aback by the sudden deprecation.
“you don’t mess things up,” you were careful not to let your exterior split, not to let him see how deep that assumption really cut you. you reached for the bottle of saline solution and gently poured it over his shoulder. nicholas squeezed his eyes shut, balling his hand into a fist under you. a curse or two tumbled from his lips, but you couldn’t hear them over your repeated sorry, sorry, sorry as the liquid seeped in and around the cut. with most of the blood wiped away, it didn’t look nearly as bad. you breathed a sigh of relief, reaching for the roll of gauze next to you. “good news. i don’t think you’ll need stitches.”
nicholas frowned, watching you roll out a small patch in your hands. “see,” he muttered, “fixing it right now.” even though your hands were shaking, even though you couldnt find the end of the roll to start unraveling it. you were a fumbling mess under his attention, but he didn’t care. he only saw the good parts of you, his gentle and attentive friend. even as you sat between his legs, skin sticking to him from the proximity and the growing heat of the room, he saw only his best friend.
“stop acting like that, nico.”
“like what?”
“like you aren’t important to people," your voice cracked with the volume, hushed but desperate. you wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him, but you couldn’t. he’d bleed again, and you’d have to get another towel and start this whole process over again. you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, attempting to disrupt the tension you’d accidentally brewed, like thick wine. “like you don’t save people.”
“are you being serious right now?” nicholas tilted his head toward you, pressing you to make eye contact with him, even as he winced from the pull of his muscle. you kept your eyes focused on taping the gauze to his skin, like if you pulled your attention from the area, it would erupt. it would consume him entirely, like he was consuming you, his stare bearing into the skin of your cheek as you gnawed on it. nicholas blinked once, like he couldn’t believe you, “because i can’t do shit without you. all i have is sticky hands, and i had a cool suit before i got fucking knocked around like a ragdoll for an hour. all because i got the security camera shot and you couldn’t tell me what to do.”
“you’re mad because i help you?” you flickered your eyes to his briefly and entirely on accident. from his tone, you expected fire, but you found only a glossy veneer over the dark, hazy eyes you knew so well.
“no,” nicholas said, firmly. it was the most sure he’d sounded all night, or possibly ever. “i’m upset because i need you to help me. i need you to watch traffic cams so i don’t get flattened by a bus while i’m running from my problems. i need you to tell me when someone needs help because my spidey senses tap out at, like, two miles. i need you to tell me where to go when i’m all turned around. i’m not the hero- you are.”
he let the tears fall as he spoke, lip quivering and hands shaking in an honest confession. he’d been vulnerable with you before, letting you see him cry during sad movies and admitting when one of your other friends hurt his feelings in passing. you’d been there for him after every breakup he’d endured and caused. you were no stranger to his emotions, but the culmination of events made this moment much more intense. it didn’t help that your nerves were wired so tight they might snap. nicholas shook under your touch as you taped the last strip over the gauze on his shoulder. good as new. nicholas inhaled, throat constricting the breath until it shook. he let his fingers wander to the hem of your shorts, pulling at the fabric to get your attention, “are you upset with me?”
the tears welled in your eyes, too, as you wiped one stray droplet from the top of his splotchy cheek with your thumb. you let it dry on the pad of your finger. you said, the most sure you’d sounded all night, or possibly ever, “no.”
you dragged your eyes up his neck as his throat bobbed, uncertainly, and your lips curled into a reassuring smile as you met his gaze again. there was a film over him, like sepia, like the color had been peeled from his face, until you cupped his cheek with your hand, smoothing your fingertips over the scratch in front of his ear. nicholas didn’t wince, only held his eyes steady on yours, fingers still drawing small circles on your thigh, just below the edge of your shorts. you leaned forward and dropped your head to his chest, resting your cheek on his skin, tacky with sweat, as your arms curled around his sides. nicholas lifted his good hand and placed it, naturally, between your shoulderblades, making languid strokes down your spine as you nestled into him. your voice was small as you spoke again, “you’re more than just spiderman, nicholas. i need you to know that.”
“i know,” he whispered, “i’m also a major sex symbol.” and then he laughed, lightly. he laughed as much as he could without it hurting deep in his core where bruises would later bloom.
“i’m being serious, nico,” you muttered, lightly smacking his back, “even if some people only see you as a piece of ass in spandex, they’d love you without the mask, too.”
in the silence that lingered, you assumed nicholas was thinking about how to turn the fact that you called him a “piece of ass” around on you. it was a prime opportunity to make you regret being nice to him, to make you revoke all sincerity in the foreseeable future, but nicholas’s chest rose and fell in solid, pondering swells. you heard him open his mouth, inhale, and then abandon the idea. he did this three times in the silence, his hand stalling on your spine. and when he spoke, finally, his voice was hoarse, “do you?”
“do i what?”
“love me?” nicholas gulped, rigid under you, “without the mask?”
you didn’t have to think about it, “yes.”
you loved him completely and in a way even you didn’t fully understand. you would have done anything for him, knowing he felt the same about you because you were best friends. you’d signed a contract as children, one that was sealed in blood from a papercut binding the two of you together forever. you remembered something in there about getting married if you both reached a certain age without finding true love, along with standard bff contract business that swore loyalty to the other person and described snack-sharing laws; he would always take any flavor that was blue, and you would have first dibs on any red. you adhered to every detail in the contract even now, cutting the red and blue gummy worms in half at the frozen yogurt shop after he’d revealed his life-altering secret to you. and it was incredibly difficult to cut the worms after they’d been sitting in the frozen treats, but you did it anyway, sealed in blood. but you were acutely aware that you loved him in ways that exceeded that contract. you’d grown to love him in a real, authentic way. you’d imagined loving him for the rest of your life, and you’d felt ridiculous for it.
nicholas’s heart slammed against his ribcage, over and over and over beneath your ear. you didn’t need the vitals on your computer to know his heartrate was through the roof. with a croak, he prompted, “in what way?”
“well,” you tried to control the wave in your voice. in the same way you knew nicholas was lying when his hands were steady, he knew you were lying when your voice faltered. you were forever grateful that you rarely found the need to lie to him. you weren’t lying now, but it felt like you were omitting the truth. your voice was partially shaking as you gave him a half-lie. “you’re my best friend.”
he traced his fingertips down your spine again. “and?”
you sat up from your place between his thighs, peeling your cheek from his chest and feeling off-kilter from the warmth on one side of your face. you looked him in the eyes, keeping your expression soft despite your confusion. you could’t decipher his intentions. what would he gain from knowing your true feelings? unless he, too, had been keeping secrets from you. unless nicholas had been harboring feelings for you in a pit in his stomach just like you. unless nicholas had been pushing down the urge to hold your hand as you walked to the corner store just like you. there was only one way to find out, and the benefit of a near-death experience was that all confessions and actions could be retrospectively blamed on the adrenaline spike and confrontation with mortality. you pulled your eyes from his, flickering your attention to his lips for a fraction of a second, the spark of a dull match before the winning strike. but when your eyes returned, his were on your lips, too. and they stayed there. the match was blazing, curling in on itself, scorched and wilting the same way your tongue felt as it let the word tumble out, “and.”
the way nicholas kissed you was the stuff of dreams, in that every touch was subtle; every choice was perceptive as he slotted his lips, gently, between yours. neither of you moved at first, simply swimming in the idea of it all. the taste of him made you dizzy, how sweet he was beneath the initial tang of metal, like the cheap chocolate coins you’d found at the store when you were younger that were shrouded in a contagious foil wrapper. the first press of his lips to yours was like peeling away the metallic, protective layer. nicholas pulled away, tentatively, before brushing his lips against yours, once and then twice, like he was testing the waters. it was you that made the second move, angling your head to capture his mouth in a kiss just as soft as the first. he sighed into you, his breath tickling your face as his hands settled low on your hips.
you hummed against him, letting your body finally relax into his kiss, his touch. it felt strange, in the unfamiliar sense and nowhere near the wrong one. nicholas once confessed that it was unusual that the two of you had never “experimented,” that all close friends have kissed once or twice just to see. you’d laughed it off, then, but it was all beginning to make sense now. he was incredibly drunk when he said that, so gone that he probably didn’t even remember it, and you never brought it up, thinking you were preserving his dignity, that he would have been so humiliated to have even suggested kissing you. you wished that you could go back in time and tell that version of you to bring it up. bring it up as soon as humanly possible. you pressed your palms against his chest, sliding them up around the back of his neck at the same time you bumped your tongue against his lips.
and when nicholas let you in, he let you in fully. the slide of his tongue against yours was electric, softly licking into your mouth and sending charged sparks to your belly like a livewire. you sucked his tongue deeper into you, and nicholas moaned. the sound was softer than you anticipated, less intense than you’d imagined. it was even less confident than you’d heard before, that fateful evening you had slipped the headset on and invaded his valuable privacy. this version of nicholas was unguarded, raw, yours. this version of nicholas was barely holding it together as you climbed further into his lap, threading your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss. it was slow, sweet, and kind of messy, noses bumping in time with your overlapping sighs and moans. it was a perfect song.
nicholas disconnected from you, resting his forehead on yours as you brushed the hair from sticking to the side of his face. he squeezed your waist, flitting his eyes to yours to gauge your reaction as he breathed, like a whisper, “i love you. i’ve loved you for a long time, i think,” he licked his lips, pressing them together into a thin line, “just didn’t know it.”
you thought of every time you searched for him in a crowded room, especially the times you never found him. you thought of every protective arm thrown over your shoulder on your walks home. you thought of the years of heartfelt “goodnight” and “get home safe” conversations on the front stoop of your apartment, neither of you having the courage to say i love you, afraid of what it might really mean. even though you meant it with every shared meal, every impromptu sleepover, and every game thrown during game nights just to see the other beaming with pride.
“i love you, too,” your smile felt like it was going to split your head right down the center, “i think.” you knew. but you understood how scary it must have been for him to tell you how he felt. you, however, were perfectly fine swallowing it down forever. for nicholas, if he confessed and you didn’t feel the same, he would have lost more than just the “brains” of his spiderman gig- he would've risked losing his best friend, too, although you couldn’t imagine a world where you cut nicholas off for any reason, especially for something as sweet as having a crush on you. he knew too much about you, anyhow, had endured too many of your late-night conspiracy theories and stress-induced breakdowns to get off the hook that easily.
“don’t feel like you have to say it,” nicholas pulled back, letting you fully see his face, his serious, stern expression, “especially since i, like, cried and stuff.”
“you cried?” you feigned ignorance, casting a curious glance at the ceiling and tapping your chin with an animated finger, “i don’t remember that, sorry.”
“right, right,” nicholas smiled, dropping his head to hide the flush on his cheeks, “i said that i was useless. do you remember that?”
“mhm,” you nodded, brows furrowing. you couldn’t tell where he was going with this, but you feared he was going to spiral again. luckily, you had a lot of practice keeping him afloat. you smoothed your hands down his neck as he manually turned the gears in his head.
“okay,” nicholas’s hands cautiously slid beneath the hem of your shirt, just barely breaching the curve of your waist where the band of your shorts rested, folded over from leaning onto him. you sucked in a short gasp at the contact, feeling the goosebumps prickle your hot skin. “i said that i need you,” he squeezed your sides, pulling you closer to him. his voice was soft, breath fanning over your neck, “remember that?”
nicholas tugged your waist until you were situated fully against him, straddling the plush expanse of his thighs, now painfully aware of just how clothed you were in comparison to the thin boxers hugging his figure. there had to be a way to wear clothes under the suit, but you didn’t care enough to find one, selfishly drinking in every inch of his soft, partially scraped and bruised skin. you’d never been able to touch him, not really. nicholas, on the other hand, was physically affectionate with you in ways you couldn’t even comprehend, constantly draping an arm over your shoulder or kicking your leg, playfully. you were afraid of what would happen if you did the same, if your arm would burst into a torch or your head would explode, like fireworks. because that would happen to you, of course. but now you were free to roam with selfish hands. you raked your fingertips up his sides, and the flames never came, but the fireworks did; they sparked low in your core as nicholas urged you even closer, settling you right above the obvious tent in his boxers. “is this okay?” he whispered, just for you.
outside, the city stirred in short bursts of life. the warm breeze evolved into a rainstorm, the mellow pattering of droplets on the fire escape punctuating the sounds of your breathing, your gasps. “perfect,” you whispered back. you held his face in your hands, committing him to memory, breaking every rule you’d set for yourself since your feelings for him started shifting from friend to something else. you allowed yourself to kiss him again, slotting your lips into his, parting them and sliding your tongue over his. chocolate coins, blue gummy candy, cold water, rain on asphalt. you moaned into his mouth before you had even moved your hips, overwhelmed by him alone. but when you finally sank down, pressing your aching core against the strained outline of his cock, you felt the flames ignite. they started at your fingertips, threading through his hair and keeping his mouth moving hungrily on yours, and they traveled up your arms to your chest, where your heart threatened to either leap out of your ribs or fall flat into your stomach. and the flames settled in a blazing bouquet of heat right above your hips, where the friction of nicholas’s twitching cock nudged your clit in mind-numbing strokes. even through your shorts, you felt all of him, but you wanted more.
“fuck,” nicholas’s hips twitched beneath you, tipping his head back with his eyes squeezed shut, “need to feel you. c-can you ride me?”
“nico,” you rocked your hips, slowly, over him, shaking your head, “i don’t want to hurt you. let’s take it slow, yeah?” his wounds were still fresh, and you could only guess the places he’d be bruised tomorrow- his stomach, his ribs. the last thing you wanted to do was put him in any more pain, strain his body.
“you won’t hurt me,” he whined, “well, you might, but i don’t care. i’ve been taking it slow for years.” nicholas dropped his hands from your waist to your ass, taking two fistfuls of your flesh and squeezing, mumbling against your lips, “i don’t want to wait anymore.”
who were you to deny him? who were you to deny yourself?
“okay, nico,” you breathed. you realized that this was one of many firsts: your first time with nicholas, your first time being on top with anyone, and, most prominently, your first time being nervous around him. he was magnetic and forgiving, and you were rarely afraid to be yourself around him. you doubted the existence of a judgmental bone in his perfect, fragile body. nicholas knew how to make you feel at home, how to ease your mind in unfamiliar situations. he held your hand when you first tried ice skating, and he didn’t laugh when you busted your ass eight times on the frozen rink. he helped you back up, both hands interlaced with yours, and kept you steady. you hoped he would do the same now, and you weren’t far off, his palms sliding, comfortingly, down your calves as you stood up from his lap to shimmy out of your shorts.
it felt like autopilot, the way you’d played out these initial moments in your head dozens of times, all in a dreamlike haze and never reaching the good parts. it was like a poorly filmed highlight reel of nicholas’s mouth on your neck, clumsy hands getting caught in your bra, and the empty collision of bodies. you’d wake each morning feeling more frustrated than the last, logging onto your computer in the evening to casually track his every movement like you weren’t going to dream that night of elaborate weddings and lingering stares. but nothing compared to the reality, the electric nerves and adrenaline of having his calloused fingers striking, like matches, on your legs. your dreams couldnt imitate the fuzzy, fluttering pit in your chest as nicholas stared, fully rapt, fully captured by you, watching with his mouth softly agape as you stepped out of your underwear.
if you could have slithered into his brain, you would have drowned beneath the overwhelming shroud of regret, swirling around in his skull like a swarm. the buzzing would have rattled you senseless. nicholas had more regrets than he cared to count, many of which concerned the type of socks he wore inside of his shoes and buying collectibles when his bank account begged him to buy some produce instead. his gut had regrets, too. but at the very center of the swarm, the queen, was how long he’d went denying his feelings for you. he had brushed his butterflies off as misfire, as sheer happiness. other people felt tingly when they hung out with their friends, too. he convinced himself that it was totally normal to lose all rational thinking within three feet of you. on any other occasion, he would have just asked you, as though you were his own personal search engine, but he couldn’t call you and ask what the movie you had just watched was about because he didn’t pay a lick of attention to anything that wasn’t you. when nicholas researched it himself, his i cant think straight around my best friend searches yielded results like you’re fucked, pal. and he so was. he regretted being in so deep and pushing it down, fucking other girls to get a reaction out of you like an asshole. because you were kind, you never gave him one. because you were perfect, you gave him shit for it, way less than he deserved. and now, he was sitting, weak in every way and completely at your mercy, grateful you were trusting him with your body, that you felt the same way for him. he regretted that, too, that he’d wasted so much time thinking you could never love him back. he wanted to lean over, pat the side of his head two times like a cartoon character, and let all his regrets spill out like scrabble pieces for you to see. instead, he slid his hands up the backs of your thighs, diligently, like it was second nature to pull you closer to him, and pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee. he whispered against the tender, sensitive skin there, “my beautiful girl,” and hoped that would remedy the buzzing in his head.
it did nothing to dull the buzzing in your belly, however; the intimate gesture only turned your insides over and over. his hair tickled your thighs as his pressed gentle kisses up and up, until his breath was ghosting over the soaked, puffy lips of your pussy. you resisted the urge to squeeze your legs together, already kind of embarrassed by how wet he had made you from nothing but jutting the outline of his cock against you and confessing. it was one thing to hear that he loved you; it was an entirely different thing to feel it, the warm, feather of a kiss he pressed to the top of your pussy. a shudder racked down your spine, mirroring the vibration of his voice as he asked, “is this okay?”
you peered down at him, threading your fingers in the back of his hair. “perfect,” you said, again, and nicholas smiled, the expression bleeding all the way into his eyes. he dipped his tongue between your still slick folds, slowly drawing the hot muscle over your clit with a groan, one of pure gratification. like licking brownie batter off the spoon, he plunged his tongue deeper into you, curling it around the sensitive bud at the precipice until you were rocking, gingerly, on his mouth.
he said, “so fucking sweet, baby,” and you felt your knees tremble beneath you, “soaking wet, sliding around on my tongue.” you curled your fingers in his hair as he hummed into your heat. the rumble of his voice went straight to your empty hole, pulsing around nothing. his lips drove you insane on a normal day- sweet, plump, and so expressive that you could read him from across the room- but, now, as he sucked your clit between them, his tongue flitting against it and twisting that molten coil inside of you, you were positive that he could have simply kissed you to orgasm. not that you would know, since he detached his lips from you just as the pleasure began to build, just as your chest began to swell unevenly, just as your hips moved with a mind of their own, chasing your high on his tongue. “not yet, angel.”
compared to the smug expression on his face, you were undoubtedly scowling. nicholas reached for your hand, sliding it out of his hair and to his lips instead. he pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles, hoping it would dissolve the exasperated glare you were boring into him but knowing it would make him feel better about his selfish decision to want to feel your orgasm rather than taste it. although, he planned to do that, too, on a separate occasion when his shoulder was healed and he could prop your legs up around his neck and push you over the edge until you couldn’t think anymore. but for now, he soothed your annoyance with a small smile, trying to ignore how painfully hard he was in his boxers. there were many ways to fix that, but he was only interested in one. he tugged your hand until you were back on the floor with him, on your knees between his legs, just as you were earlier as you cleaned his wounds, as you tended to him like a book with a weathered spine. he would never deserve you- nicholas was certain of this. he was also certain that he was going to die if he didn’t feel you around him soon.
and you felt the same; nicholas noticed the way you glanced down at his lap, at the outline of his dick constricted by thin material, mind running wild. from what you’d felt, you were positive he was going to split you in two, but you also knew he would piece you back together afterwards. you leaned forward, feeling your slick leak onto the inside of your thighs as you dipped your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down just enough to uncover his cock. he was beyond hard, tip leaking onto his stomach from a torturous ensnarement and shining glossy red like a coveted valentines candy. you thought about the contract, about how you had dibs on anything red.
you thought he would come right then, as you wrapped your fist around his base. it was like he hadn’t been touched in ages when you knew from personal experience that he’d been messing around in the suit. but he never sounded like this when you’d accidentally tuned in, so unguarded and desperate that even the slightest graze of your hand made his hips buck. he sucked in a sharp breath, pinching his eyes closed. “you’re killing me.”
“just returning the favor, dickhead,” you taunted, mourning your ruined orgasm as you stroked him, slowly. you let your lips brush against his, whispering over the sound of his panting, “or, what? did you want to come, too?”
“f-fuck you,” nicholas rolled his eyes and then his hips, chasing your hand as you teased him, “or fuck me. please, fuck me.”
only because he said “please,” and not at all because he was gorgeous, pliant putty in your hands did you succumb to his wishes, both of them. sure, you’d fuck yourself and, sure, you’d fuck him, all at once. you felt your walls clench in anticipation, pussy dripping as you positioned yourself over him. the descent onto his cock was agonizingly slow but absolutely necessary, letting your walls adjust to the stretch of him while reveling in the searing pleasure. nicholas leaned into you and captured your lips with his, attempting to swallow your moans. instead, he whined into your mouth, keeping his lips against yours as your jaw went slack. you felt so fucking full, having nearly taken all of him, unexpectedly thick and veiny. you felt him grating inside of you, slowly lighting up every nerve ending, stretching you to hell and back. you steadied yourself, gripping the edge of your bed behind him, surpassing his broad, stone-carved shoulders right in front of you. goddamn ray gun.
you moaned into his mouth when you’d reached the base of him, when your centers met at last, at least physically. emotionally, you and nicholas had been intertwined more intimately than this for what might have been years, each of you too stupid to realize the other had been right in front of you the entire time. you realized this, looking straight into his eyes, hips brushing, your bottom lip stuck between his teeth: this was right. nicholas felt it, too, fingers splayed on your back in a comforting grasp. he was keeping you closer, if it were even possible. he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, which you couldn’t help but sigh into, and mumbled, “beautiful,” he wrapped his arms tighter around your waist until you were practically flush against him, “so fucking beautiful, and mine.”
and then, you moved, a faint roll of your hips that wrecked the both of you instantly. it was intoxicating, the throb of his thick cock inside of you. a moan ripped through you at the sensation, “fuck, nico.”
“i know, baby,” he gulped, “you’re so tight.”
baby. it felt natural, hearing him say it. his voice was deep and hypnotic, a slight rasp to it after the nights events. you wanted to take care of him, even now, with the tip of his cock nudging the depths of your body. so, you rode him slow, partially to keep his injuries from progressing but mostly because you wanted to feel him for as long as possible, wanted to savor the breathy groans and whines that spilled from his mouth every time you lifted almost completely off of him. you wanted to savor the feeling of his nails digging into your ass as he watched the point where your bodies were joined, where your pussy swallowed him, welcomed him. your pace was driving him wild, his hips lurching gently up into you, driving him deeper inside of you in a way you didn’t consider possible until it was happening. your entire body was on fire with him: the taste of him on your tongue, the caress of his palms down your spine, and the blistering pleasure coiling in your stomach from the steady tilt of your hips.
“taking all of me so well, sweetheart,” nicholas groaned as you began to stutter, your movements growing messy as your climax approached. he slipped his hand between the two of you and pressed his thumb to your clit, sliding the pad of his finger along the swollen, sensitive bud in circles. the way you clenched around him only made him increase his speed, his pressure, drawing that coil inside of you tighter. “does that feel good? hm? tell me.”
“feels so good, nic,” you whined, “so, so good. i’m really close.”
“come on my cock, baby, please,” nicholas pressed his lips to your neck, sucking and nibbling on your skin as if you needed any convincing, “wanna feel you squeeze me, make a mess on me.”
“wanna feel you, too,” you mumbled, and nicholas pulled his face away, shocked, like he couldn’t believe what you were asking him. but he didnt argue, only held onto your hip and rolled his, faster, to meet yours as you bobbed on his cock, his thumb still orbiting your clit in a pleasure-driven frenzy. “feels so good, nicholas. please don’t stop.”
and he didn’t until you were doubled over, face buried in his chest as your orgasm barreled into you. you chanted his name over and over like a prayer, pussy fluttering and squeezing him even more than before. you kept your hips rolling, riding out both your orgasm and his as nicholas threw his head back, mouth agape. you felt him twitch inside of you before you felt the warmth pool in your core, hot, thick ropes of his cum pumping into you. “holy fuck,” he groaned, “still cumming. fuck.” everything was hot. his skin was still damp, small beads of sweat collecting on his neck, and you felt your own body clinging to his as you stilled on his lap.
most prominently, however, you felt something strange, something cold where nicholas’s hands had latched onto you and had remained latched onto you for a concerning amount of time. curiously, you pawed at his wrist, attempting to disconnect his skin from yours, but it just wouldn’t budge.
and then you realized: he was stuck.
“nicholas,” you raised, “did you fucking web on me?”
his cheeks bloomed red, a shy smile taking over his lips as his chest heaved, recovering from his intense orgasm. of course, you would have some shit to say to him immediately. but he wasn’t sure what you were talking about until he tried to pry his fingers from your flesh. as if he had superglued his hand to you, your skin stayed attached to him as he gently lifted his fingers. in a clump at the base of your spine, and draping in loose strands over your ass, was silk- a cluster of webbing, sticky and fresh.
nicholas blinked, just as shocked as you, “uh, yeah, i did.”
“you didn’t think to mention that before?”
“honestly, it’s… new.”
he was still working to pull his hands from you, slowly lifting and flexing his fingers in small, delicate motions. he was obviously embarrassed in a way you couldn’t understand. you thought he had more control over the web thing by this point, but, honestly, as long as it wasn’t in your hair, mouth, or eyes, you didn’t care. it was kind of… hot?
you traced his jaw with your finger, biting back a shit-eating grin. “would you say i… unclogged your web shooters?”
nicholas laughed, finally pulling his hand free before pressing a light kiss to your lips, “i knew you liked that one.”
Synopsis: Turns out teasing your boyfriend at a poker game had a lot of benefits.
Pairing: mafiaboss!Nicho x fem!reader
Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, p in v, unprotected sex (not for you), BENDING OVER EYYY, dry humping (barely), oral (m receiving), gagging, spanking, deep throating, hair pulling, cock riding, rough and mean dom Nicholas, sub!reader, size kink, degradation, multiple orgasms, they're both horny freaks, ik i said mafia boss but tbh its not that relevant, mention of food and alcohol
A/N: For my beloved @nichozzystuffs's wonderful request i have so many more nicho fics for her I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS BABIE nicholas will be delivered to your doorstep soon dw. also can i just say these specific pictures of Wang Yixiang drive me insane can he dick me and euijoo down. As always, enjoy, my darlings!
Word Count: 5.2k (its all porn)
Nicholas Wang was a rational man.
A rational, calm man who could get himself out of any madness he wished himself to. Someone who’d stand in front of a storm like an unmoving island. However every island has its ultimate end, and Nicholas’s destabilizing wave?
His beautiful girlfriend.
Who was currently rubbing her beautiful little ass all over his boner, while he tried to grip onto his playing cards for dear, dear life.
Nicholas knew when you climbed onto his lap, all pretty pink pouty lips, lingering touches at his nape and that particularly whiny tone you used when you wanted something—that he was a gone man.
You’d been at the receiving end of his brief glances and him falling asleep as soon as he came to the bedroom late at night after work and you were, in simple words, not taking it anymore. You knew his line of work held many perils, but you had accepted that when you first started dating him. What you hadn't accepted was the miniscule amount of affection you’d be getting from him during ‘hunting’ season.
So you made your plan, fishing his schedule out of Maki, Harua and Taki by throwing them a bone (homemade cupcakes), and running your pretty nails over it.
Et voila! A poker game.
Nicholas had taken you to some of them before, with the necessary security details of about a hundred men. Only Jo and Euijoo remained with you at the end, the only survivors of the wrath you had incurred at your lover, standing quietly behind you as you huffed into your glass of wine, as you watched him play his game.
Nicholas was unfairly gorgeous when he played. Delicate, neatly manicured fingers clutching the playing cards, one arm carelessly slung over the back of his chair, eyes calm and collected as if he knew exactly what was going to transpire in the next few moments. Handsome cocky bastard, you’d think, every time he glanced over at you, flashing you a faint grin—just a mere upward tilt of his mouth, and heat would pool between your thighs at the speed of light, the image of him fucking you on that stupid game table filling your 24/7 horny brain.
With a man like Nicholas, could you really be blamed though?
And with a girl like you, could he be blamed either?
The moment he kissed your pout away, slipped his hands underneath your shirt and told you that you could accompany him to the game, that glint behind your eyes told him he was probably done for. And when the evening came, moonlight draping over the day like poetic verse, Nicholas thought about how lucky he was.
You in all your glory, clad in red silk, your shoulders on full display and your neck cut dangerously low. If he could have, he would have thrown you over the hood of his car and fucked you senseless right there and then. The N pendant on your neck only drove him more insane, he loved how you were his and only his.
The poker room was thick with cigar smoke and tension, low golden lights reflecting off the polished table, stacks of chips glinting like little towers of promise. Around the table sat men of power; greying hairs and some surprisingly young ones all gathered in smiles as if they were going to win.
Nicholas leaned back in his chair like he owned the room—which, in many ways, he did. The deep red of his suit caught the light every time he moved, rich and dark against the naked skin beneath it. One arm rested lazily over the back of his chair as always while the other held his cards between long, perfectly steady fingers.
Your lover was beautiful.
His features had the kind of symmetry people noticed without meaning to stare. His strong jawline, clean and sharply cut, the faint shadow of stubble softening it just enough to keep him from looking too perfect. His hair—dark and neatly styled—caught a faint shine under the lamps, a few loose strands falling just slightly out of place whenever he leaned back in his chair.
And those damn eyes of his. There was a confidence in them that bordered on dangerous—the gaze of someone who was always three steps ahead of everyone else in the room. Except you of course. Only you knew how soft those eyes would get every time he was beneath you, veiny hands gripping your hips to guide you gently against him. You took a long sip from your glass, leaning back against the bar as you watched him.
How much more time till you were under that man?
The veins along the back of his hands were faintly visible under the warm light as he shifted a chip or tapped the table softly with his thumb. There was something hypnotic about the way he handled the game, like he already knew how the night would end.
From the corner of the room, your glass of champagne balanced between your fingers, the bubbles rising slowly to the surface. Eventually, one of the players pushed back his chair.
“Five-minute break.” The dealer announced. The tension broke instantly as chairs scraped across the floor as men stood up, some pacing, others heading toward the bar for drinks.
Nicholas didn’t move. He simply leaned back further, rolling his shoulders slightly as if loosening the stiffness from sitting so long.
Bingo.
The soft click of your heels cut slightly through the room’s murmur as you crossed the floor, setting your champagne glass down on the table before leaning slightly over the back of his chair. Of course, everybody knew who you were: the one weakness of the grand wolf of this world. The only person who could make him melt like ice cream in your hands.
Up close, the details were even more unfair, the sharp line of his jaw, that faint something in his gaze when it lifted to meet yours. He smiled softly and you almost gasped.
“You look bored.” You murmured.
“Do I?” Nicholas raised a brow.
“A little.”
His lips curved—just barely. “Careful, sweetheart.” He said softly. “People might start thinking you’re distracting me.”
“Do I look that good?” You chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of his face, “That I’m distracting you?”
Before he could respond, the dealer called everyone back. The players returned to their seats, the tension rebuilding as chips were stacked again and cards were shuffled. Nicholas straightened slightly, preparing to pick up his hand.
And then, instead of stepping away like he expected, you moved.
Nicholas was a calm and rational man, who had gotten out of near-death situations multiple times.
He didn't know in the slightest how to get out of this one.
For a brief second, the entire table went silent as you made your place on his lap—your grand bejeweled throne.
Nicholas blinked once in genuine surprise, as your arm looped casually around his shoulders, your cleavage putting on a show for him. His large hands settled on your hips possessively, one sliding down to rest on your thigh, thumb tracing the skin of your thigh through the slit of your dress.
“Uhm…” The dealer said, face flushed at the scandalous sight, “Ma’am? Ma’am will you be staying—”
“Of course I’ll be staying.” You said sharply, not taking your gaze away from him, “Can’t blame a woman for wanting to share her luck now, can you, gentlemen?”
A couple of the players exchanged looks, the younger ones evidently flustered. Nicholas’s arm instinctively tightened around your waist to steady you, his breath hot near your ear.
“Your luck, sweetheart?” He whispered, lips brushing the shell of your ear as the dealer spread the cards out, "You think I need luck to win?”
“Relax.” You whispered, your fingers tracing circles at his nape, “I’m just making sure the love of my life wins his game.” You smiled and fluttered your lashes at him, “Why, are you worried I’ll ruin your concentration?"
A quiet chuckle escaped him before he looked back at the table, picking up his cards again with those steady, elegant hands as the game resumed. Only now, the most dangerous man in the room looked just a little more amused than before.
Cards slid across the table, chips clinked softly, and no one spoke much. Every few minutes someone risked a glance at Nicholas—still sitting perfectly composed with you perched in his lap like you belonged there, which you did.
Nicholas on the other hand was dying—on the brink of death to be completely honest. You were leaning back just perfectly in his lap, your tits all in his face. Your skin was oh so warm beneath his fingers and the scent of you filled his nostrils, igniting the fire within him almost instantaneously. He caught sight of the N draped across your delicate neck and he almost threw down his aces.
Oh this girl, Nicholas thought, this damn girl.
And you were acting like you didn't know what you were doing at all. Like you weren't grinding your ass as subtly as you could against his cock.
“Oh that’s a good card isn't it?” You mumbled against his skin, purred would be a more appropriate word, as you squirmed subtly against the hard length of him.
“Hmm.” Nicholas hummed, the heat of his gaze—which wasn't even on you—piercing through your skin.
“Probably my luck in action.” You whispered, swallowing a gasp as his talented fingers tightened on your hips to pin you down, down, down. You rested your head on his shoulder, watching the cards (definitely not his fingers) with much interest.
"Luck, hmm?" Nicholas muttered, face flushing as he held back a groan. But he was winning, handily, maybe too handily—his cock throbbed against your ass, barely contained by his suit trousers.
Another round passed, a player folded, another hesitated before pushing his chips forward, the tension in the room tightening moment by moment. All you cared about was the pressure between your thighs.
But Nicholas didn’t even blink. He studied the table, the chips, the man across from him, placing his cards down with calm precision.
“I’ll call.” He said, with a calm confidence, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. It was as if the entire room held its breath, from the glasses of bubbling champagne to the women in their silks. Wang Yixiang was known for winning. You were one of the many proofs.
The dealer revealed the cards, a moment of silence. And then—
The player across from you leaned back heavily in his chair, muttering something under his breath as the dealer pushed the mountain of chips towards your boyfriend. Nicholas's smile was quick and cocky as he raked in his winnings, fingers nimble and deft, his arm still resting securely around your waist.
Around the table, the men sighed and pushed themselves off, another night of Nicholas winning, another day of him proving his power.
“Lucky charm, huh?” You felt the faint vibration of his quiet chuckle against your shoulder, his voice low, “Maybe you’re right baby.” He brought your hand up to his and ran his soft lips over the knuckles. And then his tongue too, eyes blazing into yours.
“I think I need more proof, sweetheart.”
___________________
You stepped through the front door, the click of your heels echoing in the quiet hallway, your heart still racing from the thrill of the evening. You'd known it then, the way his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened with promise.
Now, home at last, you barely had time to set your purse down before strong hands gripped your hips from behind. Nicholas didn't waste a second, his fingers digging into your waist, pinning you against the wall, lips crashing against yours in a searing kiss. He licked into your mouth hungrily, one hand fisting in your hair, the other roaming your curves.
“Think I spoiled you too much, baby.” He panted, nipping at your bottom lip. "Though you could show off this pretty body in front of them, didn't you?”
You mewled into his mouth, grinding shamelessly against his rock hard erection. "Nicho…" You moaned into his mouth, grabbing his velvet lapels and yanking him closer.
His lips descended to your neck, licking a long stripe up to your ear, nipping the lobe sharply. Large hands gripped your ass, hoisting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the kitchen, tongue flicking out to taste your skin.
“You think you’re soooo pretty hm?” He growled low in your ear, his voice rough with pent-up frustration, “Dirty little baby teasin’ me out in public.”
Before you could respond, he shoved you forward, bending you over the cool granite surface. Your dress hiked up slightly from the motion, but he didn't bother lifting it further. One hand pressed between your shoulder blades, pinning you down, while the other yanked your panties down your thighs in a swift, impatient tug. The fabric caught at your knees, leaving your ass exposed and your pussy bare to him.
“Nicho…..baby wait—”
But there would be none of that. His belt buckle clinked open, the zipper rasped, and then the thick head of his big cock nudged against your entrance. He didn't ease in, didn't give you time to adjust, with one brutal thrust, he slammed his entire length inside you, streeetching your walls around his girth until you felt impossibly full, the burn of the sudden invasion making your eyes water. You gasped, fingers splaying against the counter for balance.
“Fuck!” The word tore from your throat as you arched, your body instinctively trying to pull away from the overwhelming size of him.
He was so fucking big, always had been, his cock so thick it split you open every time, forcing your pussy to yield to every inch. But tonight, there was no mercy in it—just raw, punishing drive as he bottomed out, his hips slapping against your ass.
“N-Nicho slow down…” You begged, voice trembling, your nails scraping the countertop, “Slow down—oh fuck!”
The fullness was too much too soon, your inner muscles clenching around him in protest and pleasure all at once. But he didn't listen, instead, pulling back almost to the tip, then ramming forward again, harder, deeper, his balls smacking against your clit with the force of it.
“You don’t get to beg now, do you baby?” Nicholas chuckled, his hand coming down on your ass in a sharp spank that made you yelp, “Spoilt fucking princess.” The sting bloomed across your skin, heat radiating as he set a relentless pace, fucking into you like he owned every part of you. “Only good girls get what they want, and you’ve not been one have you?”
Each thrust jolted you forward, your breasts pressing against the counter through the fabric of your dress, nipples hardening from the friction. His cock draaagged along your sensitive spots, the sheer size of it making you feel stuffed, claimed, every ridge and vein pulsing inside you. You whimpered, legs shaking as he pounded away, the wet sounds of your pussy taking him filling the kitchen.
“Nicho–ahhh…” You gasped, head dropping forward, but he only laughed darkly, gripping your hip tighter to hold you in place, “Too big too big—fuckkkk”
“Come on now, you’ve taken this cock before.” Nicholas leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back, breath hot on your neck as he rutted deeper, “But tonight, you're going to remember why you don't play games with me.”
His free hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back so your neck arched, exposing the line of your throat. The pull sent sparks down your spine, mixing with the ache building low in your belly.
Nicholas fucked you mercilessly, hips snapping forward in a rhythm that had you moaning uncontrollably, your body betraying you as slickness coated his shaft. The size difference hit you hard—how he could fill you so completely, making you feel so pathetic underneath him. Your pussy fluttered around him, chasing the edge, but every time you got close, he'd slow just enough to pull you back, denying the release.
“Only good girls get to cum, sweetheart.” He'd murmur, spanking you again, the slaps echoing with each withdrawal.
By the time your legs turned to jelly, you were a mess—cock drunk and hazy, mind fogged with the relentless stretch of him inside you. Drool slipped from the corner of your mouth as you panted, begging incoherently for him to let you cum.
“Please Nicho, can’t anymore—it’s too much.” But he ignored it, driving in one last time with a grunt, his cock throbbing as he held himself deep. You teetered on the brink, walls spasming desperately, but he pulled out abruptly, leaving you empty and aching, your pussy clenching around nothing.
“Up.” He commanded, hauling you upright by your hair. Your body sagged against him, wrecked and trembling, panties still tangled at your ankles.
He didn't let you catch your breath—instead, he dragged you toward the bedroom, your steps unsteady as you stumbled along. The dress clung to your sweat-damp skin, ass throbbing from the spanks, pussy dripping down your thighs from the denied orgasm.
In the dimly lit bedroom, he shoved you to your knees at the foot of the bed, his cock standing hard and glistening red at the tip with your juices, veins bulging along its impressive length.
“Open up baby.” Nicholas said, fisting your hair again to tilt your head back, “Let’s see if that dirty little mouth can be useful.”
You obeyed without thinking, mouth parting wide as he guided the tip past your lips. The salty taste of yourself on him flooded your tongue, and you moaned around the girth, struggling to take even the head. Nicholas, as expected, didn't go easy.
With a firm push, he thrust forward, forcing his big cock deeper into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat. You gagged instantly, eyes watering as your throat convulsed around him, but he held you there, hair wrapped tight in his grip.
“Thaat’s it princess—take it like a good girl would.” He pulled back slightly, letting you suck and lick along the underside, your tongue tracing the thick vein before he slammed in again, deeper this time, “That ought to shut that pretty mouth up hmm?”
Tears streamed down your cheeks as you choked, saliva dripping from your chin, but the harshness only made you wetter, your denied pussy throbbing in response. His size made it impossible—your jaw ached from stretching around him, throat bulging with each deep thrust.
“God, look at you.” Nicholas fucked your face steadily, hips rocking forward, grunting with every gag you let out, “Greedy girl so impatient for my cock.”
You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder despite the burn, hands gripping his thighs for support. He yanked your hair sharper, controlling the pace, pulling you onto him until your nose pressed against his pelvis, his balls resting against your chin.
The gagging was constant now, wet and messy, but you didn't pull away—cock drunk haze making you crave it carnally. He held you there longer each time, letting you sputter and cough before giving you air, only to plunge back in.
Minutes stretched into what felt like eternity, your knees aching on the carpet, throat raw from the deepthroating. Nicholas groaned above you, his cock twitching as he used your mouth relentlessly.
“So damn tight, sweetheart.” Another pull on your hair arched your back, and you moaned around him, the vibration drawing a hiss from his lips, “Look so pretty—choking on me like this.”
Finally, with a guttural curse, he thrust deep one last time, holding you impaled on his length as the salty tang of him flooded your throat. You swallowed convulsively, gagging through the load, some spilling from the corners of your mouth as he finally released your hair, bucking his hips slightly, the head nudging your throat, making you choke softly but you pushed through, eager to please despite the burn in your jaw.
Nicholas pulled out slowly, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his softening cock, and you collapsed forward, gasping for breath, body wrecked and unsatisfied.
Nicholas looked down at you, a satisfied smirk on his face, as you knelt there on the bedroom floor, chest heaving, throat sore and tasting of salt and musk, your body still humming from the denial and the rough use. He towered over you, his cock slick and semi-hard, but his eyes burned with that unrelenting hunger.
Your boyfriend reached down, fingers curling under your chin to lift your gaze to his, “Up baby.” He ordered, voice gravelly from his release, “You’re gonna earn this cock properly now.”
His grip shifted to your arm, hauling you to your feet with effortless strength, your jelly legs wobbling as you stood up.He didn't give you a moment to steady yourself—instead, kicking off his pants fully and sitting back on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide.
“Go on, pretty girl.” His cock twitched back to life as he patted his thigh, “You wanted this so bad didn't you? Come here and ride me like a good girl now.”
You complied, too fucked out to argue, stepping out of the tangled fabric at your feet and climbing onto his lap. The dress rode up your thighs as you positioned yourself, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him.
His hands settled on your hips, guiding you down until the broad head of his cock pressed against your soaked entrance. Even after the earlier pounding, the size of him made you hesitate, your pussy clenching in anticipation of the stretch.
“Sit your fucking ass down.” He demanded, thumbs digging into your flesh, “Now.”
With a shaky breath, you lowered yourself, inch by torturous inch, feeling your walls part around his thickening length. God he was massive, filling you up in a way that made your toes curl, the burn of the intrusion mixing with the slick heat of your arousal. You sank down slowly, gasping as he bottomed out, your clit grinding against his pelvis.
“You’re made for this, aren't you sweetheart?” Nicholas stroked your cheek with a surpppppsing gentleness, “Pussy’s screamin’ for me.”
At first, you moved lazily, hips rolling in a languid rhythm, savoring the drag of him inside you. Your hands braced on his shoulders, body leaning forward as you rose and fell, the fullness coaxing soft whimpers from your lips. The denied orgasm from before lingered, building again with each lazy grind, your pussy fluttering around his girth.
“Going slow today are we?” Nicholas’s eyes locked on your face, watching the pleasure twist your features, but he stayed still beneath you. “Come on baby, we both know you’re too restless for that.”
You hated that he was right. The tension coiled tighter with every lift and drop, his cock hitting deep deep deep, rubbing against that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
Your movements grew a fraction more urgent, but still unhurried, chasing the release you'd been denied. Sweat beaded on your skin, the dress chafing against your hardened nipples as they brushed his chest.
“Nichooo…” You whined, throwing your head back, “Feel so—ahhh god—feel so full Nicho.” His hands slid up your sides, bunching the fabric of your dress higher until it exposed your breasts.
“Yeah? You feel how I’m stretching you, baby? Pussy’s drippin’ aaall over me like the spoiled girl she is.” His words sent a thrill through you, heat flooding your core as you picked up speed just a touch, inner muscles squeezing him rhythmically. Nicholas was usually loving in his manner when you’d have sex, but god did it get you wetter than the pacific ocean when he spoke so harshly.
The orgasm crept up slowly, then crashed over you without mercy. Your body seized, walls clamping down hard around his length as waves of pleasure ripped through you. A cry escaped your throat, high and broken, and you collapsed forward against his chest, forehead resting on his shoulder. You felt his hand reach up and cup the back of your head gently, caressing it.
“Fuck…Nicho I—” Your hips stuttered to a halt, trembling as aftershocks pulsed through you, leaving you boneless and panting.
But Wang Yixiang was a relentless man—not stopping till he got what he wanted. Your boyfriend wasn't even half done.
His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you impaled on him, and then he bucked his hips upward sharply. The sudden thrust jolted you, his cock slamming deep into your oversensitive pussy, drawing a pornographic whine from your lips.
“You wanted this so bad baby, so you’re going to sit here and fucking take it.” Nicholas didn't wait for compliance; instead, he took over, hips snapping up in a powerful rhythm that had you bouncing helplessly in his lap, “Really did spoil you too much, didn't I baby?” Each buck drove him deeper, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room as he fucked up into you, “Pretty girl thinks she can do whatever she wants.”
Your tits, freed from the confines of the dress, bounced with every impact, nipples grazing his shirt. Nicholas groaned, one hand coming up to cup a breast, thumb flicking the peak roughly.
“So damn perfect—you’re already falling apart for me.” The sight seemed to spur him on; his thrusts grew harder, faster, pinning you against him while he used your body like his personal toy, “My pretty girl.” You clutched at his shoulders, nails digging in and drawing blood as the overstimulation bordered on pain, but the pleasure built again, sharper this time.
“Too much too much oh!” You gasped, but he only laughed, low and mocking, bucking even harder to make your breasts heave wildly, “Nicholas!”
Saliva pooled in your mouth, body rocking with his force, pussy stretched taut around his massive shaft. The size of him overwhelmed you, every vein and ridge dragging along your walls, making you feel utterly claimed.
“That’s what you get for teasing me all night.” His free hand gripped your ass, spreading you wider to angle his thrusts, hitting spots that made your vision blur, “Fucking brat.”
You moaned into his neck, the scent of his cologne mixing with sweat, your clit grinding against him with each upward snap. The bouncing of your tits mesmerized him; he released your breast to watch them move, eyes dark with lust. “Harder, sweetheart. Show me how much you love being filled.”
The second build was relentless, your body was no longer your own as he fucked you like you were a rag doll. You came again, harder, screaming his name as your pussy spasmed, milking his cock for all its worth with desperate contractions, “God she’s such a cumslut for this dick, isn't she?”
Finally, he slowed, but only to shift positions. With a groan, he wrapped his arms around you and flipped you onto your back in one fluid motion, the bed creaking under the sudden weight.
You landed sprawled beneath him, legs splayed wide, his body covering yours as he settled between your thighs. The dress was a twisted mess now, pushed up to expose you completely, but he didn't care—and neither did you. His cock slipped out briefly, leaving you empty, before he notched it at your entrance again.
“Want this cock baby?” His voice was husky against your ear, “Wanna feel how I fit you like a glove, hm?” He pushed in deliberately, exquisite inches going in like a priest drunk on worship, watching your face as your pussy yielded to him once more. The stretch was exquisite, your walls hugging his girth perfectly, the fullness making you arch off the bed. “See? Made for my cock—dirty hole’s begging to be fucked.”
He bottomed out with a satisfied sigh, hips flush against yours, and held there, letting you adjust to the depth. Then he began to move—slooow, deep thrusts that dragged his entire length out before sliding back in, filling you completely each time.
The pace was unhurried, sensual in its intensity, every push making you feel the sheer size of him, how he reshaped your insides to accommodate his thickness. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, heels digging into his back as you moaned, the friction building a slow burn in your core.
“Nicho—oh fuck, you’re so…..p-perfect nghh!” You whimpered, hands roaming his back, feeling the muscles flex with each deliberate roll of his hips. He chuckled, nipping at your collarbone through the dress fabric.
“Feel that baby? Feel how good I’m filling this tight pussy up?” Your cheeks flushed as Nicholas kept the rhythm steady, each thrust measured to maximize the sensation—the way his tip kissed your cervix, the slide of his shaft against your g-spot, the slap of his balls against your ass.
Sweat slicked your joined bodies, the room heavy with the scent of sex, your breaths mingling in ragged harmony. “Squeezing me so good, sweetheart—it’s like she neeever wants to let me go.” His hand found yours, pinning it above your head, while the other teased your clit in lazy circles, heightening the slow build.
The pressure mounted gradually, your third orgasm simmering like a promise. Nicho's thrusts deepened, hips grinding in circles at the end of each stroke to rub every sensitive inch.
“Oh fuck baby, calm down.” He chuckled as he felt your pussy clamp down, “Always rushing me aren't you? Impatient little brat.” His voice roughened, breaths coming faster, but he held the slow pace, drawing it out until you were a quivering mess beneath him.
You shattered first, the climax rolling through you in deep, pulsing waves, your walls fluttering around his cock as you cried out. “Nicho! Oh fuck yes! Oh godddd…” The words spilled from your lips unbidden, and he groaned, finally losing the restraint. His thrusts quickened just enough, still deep and controlled, as he chased his own release.
“Perfect fucking pussy, all for me yeah?” With a final, shuddering thrust, he buried himself to the hilt and came, hot jets of cum flooding your depths. The warmth spread inside you, his cock pulsing with each spurt, filling you until it leaked out around him. He ground against you, prolonging the sensation, making sure you felt every bit of how he claimed you. “Fuck….look so good princess—mine aaall mine.”
Nicholas pulled out slowly, leaving you empty and leaking. Before you could make a sound, he gathered you into his arms, strong and secure, stroking your hair, pressing tender kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, lips. You melted into his embrace, feeling utterly exhausted.
“You ok sweetheart?" Nicholas asked, cradling you close.
“You’re really asking me that after destroying me.” You deadpanned, nuzzling into his neck, “I think I’m alright.” You glanced down at your ruined dress, “You do realise this dress was expensive?”
“Hmm.” He hummed, hands roaming your curves gently, “I’ll get you five more.” He sighed, “If you promise never to pull that shit again.”
You pouted, drinking his low voice in, “If ‘that shit’ gets me dick this good, I’m pulling it over and over again and again, baby.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” Nicholas smiled, slow and sweet, tilting his head down to kiss you deeply, with a tenderness that made your heart flutter, fingers trailing over your skin igniting sparks in their week.
You and Nicholas haven’t seen each other for a few months, so it’s no surprise that he showed up looking different after all this time. It was always his hair color that changed, which is why when you met again, you weren't shocked to see him blonde after the pink.
But what you hadn’t noticed was the new piece of metal piercing through his tongue now. At first, it felt weird that he was avoiding eye contact and speaking so low; usually, he always maintained eye contact and his voice was sweet and honeyed when flitring with you like always, but you decided to ignore it because the only thing on your mind was fucking him.
"Nicho—," you moan as his tongue flicks over your sensitive clit with speed and moves back down, licking up the drops of fluids escaping from your entrance. "Enough. Stop," you spoke, tugging at his hair to pull him away from your pussy.
"What's wrong?" he asks, resting his head against your thigh, gripping it tightly in that exact moment while keeping his lustful gaze locked onto you.
"I-it feels weird," you explained, looking at him in confusion when a bright smirk spread across his face.
"Are you gonna squirt?" his teasing tone asks you again, leaving a kiss on your thigh. "You can do it."
"No— it's something else, it feels— it feels cold" you said.
"Oh," he chuckled. "You already noticed," he murmured, moving back down to the level of your pussy. "Doesn't it feel good?" He gave you a long lick from your core all the way up to your clit without breaking eye contact, making you feel that exact same cold sensation. "I was excited to use it on you." He stuck his tongue out, showing you the pretty metal barbell nestled right in the middle of it. "I got it done with Maki."
You moaned, squeezing your legs around his head. Nicholas let out a laugh at the sudden pressure of your thighs, but he used his large hands to force you wide open. "Nicholas," you whimper, staring intently at the small metal bead gleaming wetly on his tongue before it vanished inside your pussy again as he went back to attacking your folds.
He slid the tip of his tongue right along the crevice, making sure the chill of the steel rubbed against your walls, which were dripping with his saliva and your own fluids.
A loud scream escaped your lips, and your back arched violently off the mattress. The texture of the metal was unbelievable, creating a sharp contrast against the heat of his saliva and the hot breath he blew against your intimacy every time he took a breath to keep going.
Nicholas kept his eyes pinned to yours while moving his tongue up and down, giving you deep, heavy licks, using the piercing like a roller that pressed and stimulated your most sensitive spot. The clinking of the metal against your wet pussy and his teeth was the only sound filling the room, alongside your uncontrolled whimpers.
Your hands found their way back to his blonde hair, but this time not to push him away, but to desperately shove him closer against you. You were drowning in the pleasure, completely losing your mind over him.
"N-Nicholas... I'm gonna...", you warned him, your pretty voice breaking in your throat, your breathing turning ragged as you felt the spasms coil deep in your core.
He smirked mid-task, feeling the first rush of your climax drench his lips. Instead of stopping, he sucked your clit into his mouth with force, pressing the metal directly against your sweet spot and moving his head rapidly.
"Fuck, Weno!" The world spun out of control. You cum hard right on his face, whimpering his name while your thighs trembled violently against his shoulders.
Nicholas swallowed every single drop of your juices, making a heavy swallowing sound right between your open legs. His mouth sucked desperately at the excess fluids dripping down his chin, licking your labia with slow, heavy strokes so as not to waste an absolute thing from your orgasm.
"Fuck, you're soaked..." He pulled his head back slightly so you could look down at him. His cheeks were glossy, his chin dripping with your slick, and his lips were completely flushed red and wet. Unapologetically, he swiped the tip of his tongue over his top lip, gathering the pooled fluids, and the piercing flashed again, clicking against his bottom teeth.
"You taste so good," he whispered. You let out a whined moan, trying to close your legs from the sheer sensitivity, but he wouldn't let you. Nicholas dug his fingers firmly into your thighs, keeping you pinned wide open for him, forcing you to watch how he relished the mess you had made. "I'm not done cleaning you up yet." He leaned down again, and this time he shoved two fingers deep inside your dripping hole, making you gasp out loud.
As your walls clamped around them, Nicholas used his pierced tongue to lick the base of his own fingers, blending the cold steel with the internal friction of his hand, moving mercilessly inside you. "Be a good girl and cum on my fingers. Do that, and you'll get my dick later."
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Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (f receiving), Fingering, Squirting, Overstimulation, Semi-possessive/dom behavior, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Light physical control
It starts slow, like it always does with him.
The room’s quiet, the lights dimmed to a soft amber wash from the hallway, and the sheets are still warm from when the two of you climbed in an hour ago. Nicholas lies behind you, shirtless, one arm tucked under your pillow, the other draped across your waist. There’s no rush in the way he breathes. No urgency. His fingers are just barely grazing the hem of the oversized shirt you threw on before bed — his, of course, worn and thin and soft enough to forget it’s even there.
Your bodies fit like muscle memory.
This isn’t new — this calm, sleepy closeness. You’re both warm, still, half-tangled under the blankets, and for a while, it’s just that. His thumb strokes over your hipbone lazily, not going anywhere. You hum and press back against him a little, not really thinking.
And that’s when you feel it.
A little shift. A subtle press of his hips. The faintest tension in his grip where it holds your stomach.
You open your eyes.
“Nicholas?”
“Mm?”
His voice is still rough from how close he was to sleep, but his hand is moving now — lower, slower, slipping just beneath the edge of the shirt you’re wearing.
You go still. His palm flattens over your lower belly, and his thumb drifts even lower, brushing right where your waistband would’ve been… if you were wearing any.
He pauses.
“You’re not wearing panties.”
You smile into the pillow. “You just now noticed?”
He lets out a low laugh — not surprised, more like… pleased. His voice drops when he speaks again, closer to your ear now. “You always do this shit to me on purpose.”
“I was comfortable.”
“Mhm.”
His hand dips fully between your thighs. You’re already warm there — slick and soft, your body betraying you before he’s even touched you properly. The tip of his finger slides right between your folds, and the second it does, you twitch.
Nicholas stills.
Then he does it again. Slower this time.
You shift your leg slightly to give him more room without realizing it, and he hums behind you, lips brushing your shoulder.
“…You’re wet.”
You breathe out a shaky laugh, cheeks hot. “It’s your fault.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“You don’t have to.”
He kisses your neck. His hand moves again, a little firmer, dragging through the slick that’s already gathered between your thighs.
“You’re soaked.”
“I know.”
He inhales deeply, like he’s trying to stay calm. Then you feel his hard length nudge up behind you under the blanket — slow, deliberate, fully there now — and your body responds instantly, clenching around nothing.
His voice is darker this time. “Turn over.”
You roll onto your back without a word.
Nicholas shifts with you, bracing one hand beside your head and tugging the blanket down to your hips with the other. His eyes trail from your flushed face to the curve of your thighs, then lower, to where the hem of the shirt has ridden up. His palm drags along your bare leg, warm and rough and confident.
He doesn’t say anything for a beat.
Then he leans in, kisses you slow, and murmurs against your lips—
“I need to taste you.”
He doesn’t wait for a response.
Nicholas kisses you again — deeper this time, slower, like he’s trying to savor how easy it is to get you like this. His hand slides down your thigh, then between your legs, knuckles brushing the sensitive spot where you’re already wet and wanting. He shifts lower on the bed, head dipping below your navel, lips tracing over the dip of your stomach like he’s marking the path he’s about to take.
You breathe his name.
It barely leaves your lips before his mouth is on you.
He spreads your legs apart and pushes them open with both hands, then licks a broad, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit — and you gasp, spine arching clean off the bed.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, already drunk on the taste. “You’re so wet.”
Your hand finds the back of his head without thinking, fingers tangling in his hair as he groans into you. His tongue circles your clit lazily, teasing at first — then faster, flatter, more deliberate — until your legs start to shake. He sucks it into his mouth and moans, and your hips jerk up into him.
“Nick—!”
He pulls back just enough to look up at you, mouth and chin glistening.
“You’re gonna come just like this, huh?” His voice is hoarse now, low and urgent. “Haven’t even gotten my fingers back in you yet.”
You nod, barely breathing.
“Good,” he says. “Then give it to me.”
His fingers slide in with almost no resistance — two at once, smooth and thick and deep. He curls them the moment he’s inside, and your entire body jolts.
“Oh my god—”
He groans like he’s the one feeling it. “That’s it.”
The way he moves is precise — like he knows exactly what he’s looking for. His tongue is back on your clit in tandem, fucking you with his fingers while his mouth drives you closer with every stroke.
You can’t think. Can’t speak. Your thighs keep trying to close, but he shoves them wide with his forearm and pins you open.
“Don’t run,” he murmurs, hot against your skin. “Let me have it.”
You’re shaking.
The pressure is building fast — faster than normal. There’s a tight, heated ache rising in your core that doesn’t feel like your usual orgasm. It’s deeper, heavier. You squirm under him, moaning brokenly, and he doesn’t slow down.
You manage to gasp, “Nick, I—I don’t know—wait—”
He looks up at you again, sweat starting to bead at his temple.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t—” Your voice cuts off in a high-pitched sound as his fingers drag over that same spot again, and your hips jerk. “Something feels… different.”
Nicholas slows for half a second, just enough to study your face.
But then he smirks.
“Oh yeah?”
You nod, breath stuttering.
His expression darkens — not with concern, but curiosity. He kisses the inside of your thigh, then goes right back to it — same spot, same rhythm, faster this time.
You yelp. “Nick—!”
“Let it happen,” he growls. “Whatever it is, let it.”
Your stomach tightens. Your legs start to tremble. The feeling keeps rising, sharper now, uncontrollable, and you try to speak — to warn him, to beg him to slow down — but your mouth won’t form the words.
You claw at the sheets instead.
“N-Nick, I think I’m—”
And then it breaks.
Your body seizes, hips bucking violently as a sudden, hot gush of wetness pours out of you — not just dripping, but gushing, pulsing out of you in rhythmic waves that splatter across his hand and your thighs and the ruined sheets beneath you.
You cry out, loud and raw, both hands flying to cover your face.
Nicholas freezes.
For just a beat, the room goes still.
Then, quietly—
“…No fucking way.”
You peek out between your fingers, heart pounding, body still twitching. He’s still between your legs, fingers glistening, mouth parted in awe as he stares at you like you just rewrote physics.
“Baby.”
You’re too embarrassed to respond.
“Was that—” He cuts himself off, eyes flicking to the soaked sheets. “Did you just squirt?”
You nod, barely, eyes wide.
He blinks. Then breathes out a stunned, breathless laugh.
“Holy fuck.”
Nicholas doesn’t move at first.
He just stares — at you, at his soaked hand, at the mess coating your thighs and the dark patch spreading across the sheets beneath you. His lips are parted, his chest rising fast, and for a second, he looks like he doesn’t even know what to say.
And then he licks his fingers.
Slowly. Deliberately. His tongue drags along the length of them, savoring the slick as if it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. His eyes don’t leave yours the entire time.
You whimper, overwhelmed, body still trembling. “Nick—”
His hand is already sliding back up your thigh. “You’ve never done that before.”
You shake your head, panting. “No, I—I didn’t know I could—”
He lets out a sound — not quite a groan, not quite a laugh. Something low and dark and wrecked.
“Jesus,” he murmurs. “You didn’t even know.”
You glance down — the mess between your legs, the ruined sheets, his soaked chest. You try to close your thighs, embarrassed.
Nicholas catches them immediately.
“Don’t,” he says, voice rough. “Don’t hide from me.”
You freeze.
His hands spread your thighs open again, wide and firm, until you’re fully exposed in front of him — still twitching, still dripping, still messy from what just happened. He stares at your pussy like it’s glowing, like he’s never seen anything so fucking perfect in his life.
“Look at this.” His voice drops to a growl. “You made a mess all over me.”
You turn your face away, flushed, too wrecked to speak — but he leans over you, grabs your chin, and forces you to look at him.
“No,” he whispers. “Don’t get shy on me now. You know what that did to me?”
You blink up at him, dazed.
He grabs your wrist and presses your hand to his cock — thick and hard and soaked at the tip.
“This is what you do to me.”
You moan softly, fingers curling around him.
But before you can say a word, he’s already moving — shifting lower, gripping your thighs again and dragging your hips closer to the edge of the mattress.
“I need to see it again.”
Your breath catches. “Wait—Nicholas—”
“I’m serious.” He looks up at you, eyes blazing. “I need it. I need to see it again.”
He sounds ruined. Starved. Like something in him snapped the second you soaked his hand.
“You’re mine,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You gave that to me. That means I get more.”
He licks you once, slow and deliberate, then slides two fingers back inside you with no warning.
You gasp, jerking hard.
He groans. “Still so fucking wet. You feel that, baby? You’re leaking for me.”
“N-Nick—”
He fucks his fingers into you, deeper this time, curling up to find that same spot again — the one that had you unraveling minutes ago.
“Don’t hold back,” he growls. “I want every fucking drop.”
You squirm, thighs already shaking, nerves lit up like fire. He’s focused now — obsessed — moving his fingers fast and steady, his other hand spreading you wider while his mouth trails heat along your inner thigh.
“Gonna make you do it again,” he murmurs. “Right here, right now. Gonna make you gush for me, baby.”
Your head falls back. Your back arches. The sound of wetness fills the room — slick and obscene — and Nicholas moans low in his throat like he can’t take it.
“You hear that?” he pants. “That’s your pussy, baby. That’s what it sounds like when you’re dripping all over me.”
Your fingers grip the sheets so tightly they cramp.
You can’t stop it — the heat building again, somehow faster than before. Your body’s not used to this, doesn’t know what to do with the way he’s fucking you open, not letting up, muttering filthy praise under his breath while he watches your body unravel beneath him.
“I didn’t even know I could do that,” you whimper.
Nicholas groans, teeth grazing your thigh.
“You think I’m gonna stop now that I know you can?”
He thrusts harder.
“You think I’m gonna stop when I haven’t even seen how far I can push you?”
You cry out, hips twitching, whole body clenching around his fingers.
He feels it.
“Fuck—there you go—c’mon, baby, give it to me again—”
And then—
It hits.
You squirt again, harder this time — gushing uncontrollably, your thighs jerking as another wave pours out of you, soaking his hand, the sheets, his arms, everything.
Nicholas groans like he’s coming just from seeing it.
“God damn, baby—look at that—fucking look at it—”
You can’t. Your eyes are glassy, your body limp, twitching through the aftershocks while he leans back to admire the wreckage.
He looks up at you — wild, glassy-eyed. “I can’t stop.”
“Nick—” You sound broken, but you don’t tell him to stop. You can’t.
He pulls his fingers out suddenly, coated and dripping, and you gasp at the empty, aching space he leaves behind. Before you can even blink, his hands are on your hips, hauling you closer to the edge of the mattress. His cock slides against your soaked entrance, thick and hot and so ready, smearing wetness up and down your folds.
“Fuck,” he growls. “Feel how wet you are? That’s all you.”
Your stomach flips.
“Nick, wait—”
But he’s already pushing in.
The stretch knocks the breath out of you. He’s big, always has been, and you’re so sensitive now that the first inch feels like too much. You moan high and raw, nails raking at his forearms as he sinks deeper and deeper until his hips are flush with yours.
Nicholas drops his forehead to yours and groans.
“Christ,” he pants. “You’re gripping me so fucking tight.”
You whimper, squirming under him. “You just— you just made me—”
“I know.” He pulls out a little, then pushes back in, slow but steady. “I want to feel it while I’m inside you.”
He thrusts again — a little harder, a little deeper — and your eyes roll back. Your body’s still twitching from the overstimulation of his fingers, every nerve on fire. He watches your reaction like a predator tracking prey.
“You’re gonna gush for me again,” he mutters, voice hoarse. “Right on my cock.”
Your thighs try to close but he grabs them, spreading you wider, fucking you slow but relentless. His thumb finds your clit and rubs circles around it, sending shocks up your spine with every stroke.
“Oh my god—Nick—” You’re gasping, arching, clenching around him so hard it makes him curse under his breath.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Soaked and dripping all over me. You’re gonna do it again.”
He speeds up. The wet slap of skin fills the room — slick, obscene, your juices running down your ass onto the ruined sheets. He tilts his hips to grind into that spot inside you, the one that made you gush before.
You scream.
He grips your jaw with his free hand, making you look at him.
“Look at me when you do it.”
Your breath catches. “Nick—”
“C’mon, baby,” he pants, eyes locked on yours. “Show me. Give it to me.”
He thrusts faster, deeper, his thumb circling your clit with cruel precision until your whole body starts to spasm. The pressure builds sharp and heavy in your core, the same alien, uncontrollable ache from before, only stronger now with him inside you.
“I can’t—” you sob.
“Yes, you can. Right on me.”
He grits his teeth, hips slamming into yours, thumb relentless on your clit.
“Fuck—give it to me—”
You cry out and break.
A gush of liquid bursts out of you, splattering between your thighs, running down his cock. Nicholas groans loud and ragged, nearly bending in half as he watches it coat him.
“Holy fuck,” he snarls. “You’re squirting on me—”
You’re shaking, overwhelmed, but he doesn’t stop. He pulls out halfway, watches more liquid drip down his length, then slams back in with a sound that makes both of you moan.
“Again,” he growls. “Don’t stop now.”
He fucks you harder, his thumb back on your clit, dragging wetness up over your stomach and smearing it across your skin like he’s marking you.
“Messy little thing,” he murmurs. “Look at this mess you’re making on me.”
You’re incoherent, trembling, legs quivering against his sides, but your body keeps responding to him. The slick sound of your pussy around his cock is almost deafening, each thrust wetter and louder than the last.
“Nick—please—” you gasp.
“One more,” he pants, eyes wild. “One more for me.”
He tilts his hips again, grinding deep against your sweet spot while his thumb circles your clit. You’re crying now, tears sliding down your temples, hands clinging to his biceps as if you’ll fly apart if you don’t hold on.
“Yes, you can,” he breathes against your mouth. “You’re gonna soak me again.”
Your stomach knots.
Your vision goes white.
You scream and convulse as another gush explodes out of you, this time with him fully inside you. It spills down both of you, soaking his thighs, the sheets, everything. Nicholas swears loudly, almost a growl, feeling it gush around his cock.
“Fuck, baby—fuck—” he moans, hips still pumping as you drench him. “You’re unreal—”
You’re gone. Boneless. Twitching. Barely able to breathe.
He pulls out slowly, watching more wetness pour down from you onto the sheets, and strokes himself once, groaning at the sight.
“Never seen anything like you,” he mutters, breathless. “Never felt anything like this.”
He leans over you, kisses your mouth, still rocking his hips between your thighs as if he can’t stop.
“Look at me,” he whispers.
Nicholas stays inside you for a long moment after the last gush, chest pressed to yours, both of you shaking from the intensity. His forehead rests against yours, his breath hot and uneven. You can feel his cock still pulsing against your walls, but his hips are finally still.
“Breathe,” he whispers.
You do — shaky, broken inhales that smell like sweat and sex. Your hands are still fisted in his shoulders, your thighs trembling against his sides. Everything between your legs feels wet and open, every nerve buzzing.
He kisses your temple once, then slowly, carefully pulls out. A thick, wet sound follows him and you whimper from the loss. He looks down at where you’re lying and actually laughs under his breath.
“Look at this bed,” he says, voice hoarse. “Look at what you did.”
You hide your face with your hands, embarrassed. “Don’t—”
He catches your wrists gently and pulls them down.
“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs, softer now. “You’re perfect like this.”
His hands stroke up your thighs, over your hips, spreading the wetness without shame. Then he reaches for the towel you keep at the edge of the bed and starts wiping you down with slow, careful motions. Every touch is light, soothing, completely different from the way he was moving minutes ago.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
You nod, still dazed. “Yeah…”
He smiles, wiping the inside of your thighs, then tossing the towel aside. “Good girl.”
Nicholas stretches out next to you and pulls you into his chest. His skin is warm and damp, his heartbeat still fast under your ear. He tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses the top of your head.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” he murmurs.
You shake your head against his chest. “Neither did I.”
He chuckles, low and pleased. “Guess I just unlocked a new level.”
You swat at him weakly, but he catches your hand and presses it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles.
“I’m still hard, you know,” he says, voice turning dark again for a second. “And all I can think about is how you felt when you squirted on me.”
You shiver at the tone, but he just hugs you tighter.
“Not now,” he whispers. “Now I’m gonna hold you until you stop shaking.”
His thumb strokes lazy circles on your hip. “But later…” His lips brush your ear. “Later, I’m going to see how many times I can make you do it again.”
You melt into his chest, exhausted, a little stunned, but safe in the circle of his arms.
And for the first time all night, Nicholas is still.
synopsis . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. nicholas came home to you after a difficult day at work, upset with tears because his sickness made him unable to perform— fortunately, you’re there to comfort him.
ʚɞ pairing idol!nicholas x female!reader - content established relationship // drabble // one shot // fluff // imagines // angst // crying - wc 979
a/n: dare i say i got inspired by the clip of nicholas crying during their &team fan showcase vlog.. maybe i do have a thing for men crying gulp
nicho: good morning my amazing beautiful girlfriend i love you
im not sure if u heard me say that this morning so i wanted to text you
sent at 4:42 AM
y/n: good morning my loving boyfriend i love you too
why did u go to work today? i told u that u need to rest
ur sick
sent at 8:36 AM
nicho: coming home now
y/n: why?
nicho: the staff and members said to
y/n: do you still have a fever?
nicho: they didn't check my temperature
y/n: ill check when u get home
nicho: okay
you sat patiently in the living room on the couch, bundled in the corner of the couch with nicholas' hoodie on that was basically yours now. on the coffee table was a thermometer along with a warm cup of coffee.
then, the moving sound of the doorknob was made aloud, making you sit upright and turn your head.
there nicholas was walking through the front door. his black hair was frayed in the front with some noticeable gel, styled, and his stage makeup was still on. he carried his large black bag around his body with his keys dangling in his hand. he didn't lift his head up when walking inside, he kept his head down as he shuffled his shoes off and set the keys in the designated box where you two kept your things.
you got up and made your way to him slowly by the front door, hands in the hoodie pocket. "hi,"
he finally looked up to you, displaying a small forced smile. "hi, baby."
you put your hands on the straps of his bag that was hanging on his shoulder, urging him to take it off by pulling it lightly— which he allowed you to.
"you always carry such a big bag," you started walking towards the bedroom where he usually puts his bag. "go sit down at the couch."
he obeyed and went straight to the couch. as soon as he plopped down, he leaned his head back in an exhausted manner. he let out a big sigh before you could come back to find out how frustrated and upset he was really feeling.
you quietly came back into the living room and took the thermometer from the table. nicholas was sitting, elbows resting on his knees now, hands hanging loosely between them as he stared at the floor.
you stood in front of him, bending down just slightly— not to the point where you were crouching on the floor though. you held his jaw, tilting it up so you could check his temperature more easily. "open for me."
he looked up with his dark brown eyes for a second before obediently parting his lips.
you slid the thermometer beneath his tongue, to which he closed his mouth and eyes.
beep.
you pulled it out. "101.4," your brows knitted together, "i knew you shouldn't have gone today."
nicholas hummed in acknowledgment.
you sighed softly before placing the thermometer back onto the coffee table. without saying anything else, you then sat down next to him. your legs were pushed up against your chest as you leaned forward to reach for his forehead.
".. you're burning up."
his eyes closed at the cool feeling of your palm. "i know."
"you know, you've barely slept. you were coughing all night."
".. mm."
his responses were barely above a whisper, which made you frown.
"nicholas," you brushed his messy bangs away from his forehead, noticing the makeup that was still perfectly done despite how sick he looked.
"how'd you get sent home?"
"we tried practicing," his voice cracked then ever so slightly. "i couldn't.."
he stopped talking, and your hand paused against his cheek.
he swallowed. "i couldn’t function, like my body wouldn't do it.. i kept getting dizzy." his eyes stayed fixed on the floor. "i couldn't breathe properly during rehearsal." he laughed quietly to himself, but it sounded humorless. "can you believe i even forgot my own parts?.. everyone kept asking if i was okay, and i kept saying yes because I didn't want to miss our performance." his shoulders slowly slumped even further.
you tilted your head at the realization of his feelings. "are you okay?"
he shook his head, puckering his lips. "no,” watching his eyes, they became a slight red, and soon, a tear fell from his eye.
having nicholas as your boyfriend for years made it clear what kind of guy he was. you knew nicholas was a very determined and dedicated person when it came to being an idol— performing was one of his favorite things to do.
you took your thumb and swiped under his eye, wiping the tear away.
“hey.. it’s okay. you just got sick, and everyone is looking out for you, they don’t want you fainting or getting in worse condition.” you leaned in and kissed his cheek softly where the tear fell. a slight shudder came out of him.
“i just don’t want to disappoint my team, or my fans.”
you shook your head, “you’re disappointing no one, either way, no one should be disappointed that you did the right thing to step out because of your health.” you ran your fingers through his black hair on the side of his head, making nicholas lean into your touch.
his eyes fluttered shut as his hand that was by his side slowly travelled up to the back of your waist, pulling you into him.
he shoved his face in the crook of your neck, mumbling against it. “gosh.. am i being dramatic?”
"you're not being dramatic, you're just nicho." you gently scratched the back of his head.
a small smile appeared on his face while reaching for your hand, giving it a kiss on the back.
".. you always know what to say, my sweet girl."
a quiet laugh escaped you. "i've been loving you for a long time."
