we'll light up tomorrow ⊹ ࣪ ˖

koga yudai .✦ ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖

pushing it down and praying - ex!k, actor!k, writer!reader, grad school AU, second chance, angst

murata fuma ⋆˚꩜｡₊˚⊹

nothing yet

wang yixiang ˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞

sweet blooded - girly!reader, brat!reader, photographer!nicholas, established relationship, grumpy x sunshine, fluff, praise, he's so whipped lol

byun euijoo ˖᯽ ݁˖⋆✧˚

lessons (a three part series) - teacher!euijoo, curator!reader, roomie!nicholas, photographer!nicholas, friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, angst, fuma cameo hehe

nakakita yuma ≽^• ˕ • ྀི≼

cat and mouse - intern!yuma, nepo baby!yuma, analyst!reader, slight age gap, coworkers, fwb, office AU

asakura jo ˚˖ ❀⋆. ☘︎ ݁˖

nothing yet

ot9 headcanons 𐔌՞ ܸ.ˬ.ܸ՞𐦯 🐾 ˚.

&team as college students

"i'm not calling you that," you laugh when he introduces himself on the first day of class. "what's your real name?"

"yudai," he smiles. "but really, nobody calls me that."

"nice to meet you, yudai."

it doesn't take very long for your study dates to turn into real ones.

he confesses first. it happens after the two of you are sitting in the library, discussing the latest script you've had to read for class.

"excuse me," some boy comes up to talk to the two of you. "are you two dating?"

"no," you answer, a bit too quickly for k's liking.

"then can i take you out some time?" the boy asks. you nod politely and give him your phone number.

when he leaves, k is quiet. he's never quiet.

"are you going to go out with that guy?" he finally asks while walking you to your dorm.

"i'm not sure yet," you tell him.

"i don't want you to."

"what?"

"i like you."

"oh."

"i've liked you for a while now."

you replay all of the times that he's picked you up from a party when you're drunk or stayed up late while you finished an assignment.

it's not like you don't like him back. you do, a lot. but you also know how much attention he receives from other girls.

you've always thought it was a bit strange how he liked studying with you so much, but you're good at breaking down scenes and memorizing lines.

it's never occurred to you that out of all of his options, you'd be the one that he chooses. but he's standing here, telling you that he likes you, and you have no choice but to believe him.

so, you let him take you out to dinner. after, the two of you spend the entire night making out and ignoring your homework.

he tells you he loves you after two months of dating. you say it back a few days later.

one night, the two of you are laying in bed and talking about the future.

you confess to him that you've never considered being with someone in the same field as you.

"i think i need stability," you tell him. it's not until he sits up that you realize what you've actually said. i don't see us lasting long term.

he's spent months pouring out his hopes and dreams to you. how he doesn't care about where he ends up and he'll start at the bottom and work his way up if it means that one day it'll all be worth it.

you manage to get him to come back to bed and he holds you until you fall asleep.

in his head, the two of you can make it work. he'll act and you'll write and it'll be okay.

in your head, it's not that simple.

it's not that you don't think he has what it takes to make it big. if anything, k is the most hardworking and talented person that you know.

but you worry about one of you becoming successful before the other, and growing resentful of that. you'd like to think you'd be happy for k. you wonder if he'd be happy for you, too.

things start to unravel when you realize that you can't predict that.

you pull away from him, cancelling dates and making excuses. sometimes, the only time you see each other is during class.

he notices. one day, after you've forgotten that the two of you had plans, he asks you if you still love him.

when you say "i don't know," you swear you can see his heart break.

he nods and suggests that the two of you stop seeing each other, and you agree, and then you go your separate ways.

that night, you cry yourself to sleep.

weeks later, you're still not used to sitting next to someone else in class and pretending like you don't know each other.

the worst part is that your cohort is small. everybody knows. girls start flocking to him again. he lets them.

someone makes up a rumor that he must've cheated on you. you quickly shut it down in front of the entire class one morning.

later that night, he texts you: thank you.

you don't reply.

you convince yourself that you’re not allowed to miss him. that you’re the reason things ended and you deserve to feel guilty about it.

so, when the guy who tried to ask you out in the library all those months ago spots you sitting by yourself, you take his invitation seriously this time.

he’s smart, and nice, and getting his master’s in accounting.

he’s stable.

you still miss k, even at night when your new boyfriend is whispering in your ear about how pretty you are and how good you feel.

every time you see him around campus, he’s with a new girl, and you wonder whether or not you were just holding him back from doing all of the exploring that he wanted to.

you don’t know that he’s never once touched any of them. he just… doesn’t like sitting in his apartment by himself. so, he says yes to every invite he gets, and he gets a lot of them.

you break up with your boyfriend right before the end of the semester, when he asks if you’d like to meet his parents over winter break and the idea of starting a future with him makes you physically ill.

the next few months are spent working on your thesis and going to class. you throw yourself into writing your play, a two-person show about siblings cleaning out the apartment of the brother that they've recently lost to suicide.

you're particularly having trouble casting the twin of the dead sibling, with male actors being in low supply and many already committed to other productions this late into the school year.

you know who'd be perfect for the role. your producer knows too, when she tries to broach the topic towards the end of the audition cycle, after neither of you are impressed by the people you've seen.

"just text him," she tells you gently, but firmly.

"i haven't talked to him in months," you admit.

"he still stares at you in class, you know."

"no he doesn't," you laugh.

"he does. he'd make time for your show if you asked."

"fine. help me draft the text and if he says no, i'm putting you in a wig and sending you onstage."

he replies to you in six minutes flat: send me the script.

a week later, you're introducing him to mina, the undergrad that you've cast as his sister.

"we kind of look alike," he laughs, shaking her hand before looking at you. "was that intentional?"

“i just cast the people i thought did this best during their auditions,” you shrug.

sometimes, you feel useless as a director. it’s not that the actors don’t listen to you—they’re wonderful to work with. it’s just that k has such a way of completely understanding the lines you’ve written that sometimes you have no notes to give, and mina follows suit.

you’re lucky, you think to yourself. but another thought creeps into your head as rehearsals go by: yudai is a much better person than me.

you’ve spent half of the school year ignoring him because you couldn’t make up your mind about how you felt, and he’s so professional that he’s willing to put all of that aside to bring your words to life.

you know now, that if you were still together and you had gotten your big break before he did, he would’ve been really happy for you.

k has never made you question how he feels about you. it’s you that’s the unpredictable one. the reason that it’s never mattered how stable the other person is.

you decide that ultimately it was the best thing for the two of you to break up all those months ago, and that you would’ve just held him back. he shines so much in the role and you’re not sure things would’ve been the same if he were still your boyfriend.

you’re not even sure if this play would exist.

you wonder if when he thinks about how much it hurts to lose someone, if you’re part of the memories that he draws on. you immediately disregard this thought, reminding yourself that losing a twin and ending a three month fling are incomparable.

he stays after rehearsals a lot, to help you reset the classrooms after mina has already gone home.

you move tables and chairs together in silence, clearing off any blocking diagrams you've drawn on the chalkboard.

if it's particularly late, he'll offer to walk you back to your dorm, like old times. you know it's not in the same direction as his apartment, but you let him anyway.

once, while he's saying goodnight, his eyes linger on yours a bit too long before he turns to leave.

"wait," you tell him, grabbing onto his sleeve before he can go. he turns back to you, a flicker of hope on his face.

"yes?"

you stare up at him, your words stuck in your throat.

"do you want me to come up?" he asks softly, as if he's read your mind. his hand is already on your waist.

you nod.

the two of you don't even make it inside your room before he has you pressed up against a wall, his mouth on yours, desperate to make up for lost time.

"tell me you missed me," he sighs, before sucking on your neck, light enough to not leave a mark.

"i missed you so much," you admit in between moans. "so, so much."

he holds you after you finish, just like he used to, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder until you fall asleep.

when you wake up in the morning, he kisses you goodbye, too. sometimes, you walk to class together, although you still make sure to enter separately and sit with other people.

this becomes your routine for the next few weeks. neither of you talk about what it means.

you don't go on dates. you don't touch when you're in public. you just... pick up where you left off when behind closed doors.

there's no "i love you" in the script you've written for yourselves. only "that was nice" or "see you later."

it almost feels easy, not asking for more. at least for you.

for k, he's constantly reminding himself not to repeat the same mistake of smothering you. he'll take what he can get if it means he can have at least some part of you again, no matter how much the lack of certainty hurts.

every day, the play comes together more and more. eventually, it's opening night.

k finds you sitting cross-legged on the stage an hour before the house is set to open, your eyes closed and fingers clasped together.

"i thought you weren't religious," he says, prompting you to open your eyes.

"i'm not," you laugh, standing back up. "just making a wish."

"for the play? you think i'm that bad at acting?" he teases.

"i just get nervous," you admit, crossing your arms. "but i know you're going to do great."

right before he and mina go onto the stage, you hold their hands and tell them how proud and grateful you are for how they've helped shape your ideas into a reality.

k lingers a bit while mina takes her place in the wings, his hand still in yours.

"break a leg," you say, just loud enough for only him to hear. he nods, and then the stage lights come on and he's gone.

the show is better than any full run you've ever done in rehearsals. it goes on for two more nights, each performance becoming stronger as you work through the last-minute kinks.

before you know it, it's over. you're sitting in the theater on a sunday morning, moving furniture onto a truck and packing up costumes and props.

mina goes with your producer to drive the set pieces back to the warehouse, leaving you and k to carry any boxes of smaller things to your dorm.

neither of you talk, knowing that there's no excuse to see each other outside of class anymore.

graduation is in three weeks. you've run out of time.

“you’re headed to chicago, right?” you ask him midway to your building.

“you heard,” he smiles.

“yeah.” you don’t know how to tell him you’re happy for him.

“what about you?”

“i don’t know.” there are those words again. they land heavier than you intend.

“i mean, i don’t have anything lined up,” you clarify. “i applied to a few programs at some theaters but i haven’t heard back from anyone.”

“there’s still time,” he says. he’s always believed in you, even when you’ve felt you didn’t deserve it.

you stop walking and set the box in your arms down on the pavement. k notices and does the same.

“is everything okay?” he asks. his voice is soft, like when he talks to you late at night.

you look at him and do your best not to cry.

“i don’t know anything,” you say, barely above a whisper. “i—i don’t know anything.”

you can’t hold your tears back any longer the second he pulls you into his chest, your sobs coming out muffled.

“i’m sorry,” you tell him, although neither of you are sure what the apology is actually for. “i’m sorry, yudai. i’m sorry. i’m so—”

“shh, it’s okay. you don’t have to apologize. it’s okay.”

“it’s all my fault.”

“what is?”

“us.” and there it is. the guilt that you’ve been carrying for months is finally out in the open.

you feel his grip on your body loosen, as if he’s somehow finally remembered how much you hurt him all that time ago.

“yudai?” you ask, peering up at him through blurry eyes.

he’s quiet, thinking of what he wants to say.

"you never asked me," he finally speaks.

"what?"

"if i still loved you. when we broke up."

you stare at him, your mind blanking on a reply.

"i wanted you to." his voice is steady, his expression calm. it's as if he's practiced these lines before. "i wanted to tell you that i loved you so much, and that i'd wait for you to feel the same way back. but i could tell it wasn't what you wanted to hear, anyway."

"no, it wasn't," you shake your head. "i had already made up my mind."

"you've always been so honest with me," he laughs halfheartedly.

"that's not true."

"it's not?"

"when i told you i didn't know... it wasn't exactly a lie. i had a lot going on inside my head," you explain, pausing to prevent yourself from rambling. "what i'm trying to say is that i realized that same night that i did love you. but i had already hurt you and i was worried i'd do it again and again."

it takes him a second to register your words. you stare at your feet, waiting for him to be mad at you. to tell you how much time you've wasted that you could've spent together.

instead, he wraps his arms back around you. he holds you tight for a long time, long enough for your heart to slow down to match his.

eventually, you both pick up the boxes and continue with your walk.

you don’t invite him to stay after. he doesn’t ask to.

it takes you hours to fall asleep without his touch.

the cast party comes a week later. between how hot it is outside and the school year basically being over, everybody is drinking and you run out of ice much too quickly.

“i’m going to refill the bucket,” you say, lifting it into your arms. it’s big and heavy and k quickly sets his cup down to help steady you.

“i got it,” he says, taking it from you as if it weighs nothing. you haven’t talked to him since that day.

the dorm kitchen isn't far, but every second that passes feels like hours.

you watch as he fills the bucket with ice, careful not to drop a single cube onto the floor.

he looks so pretty in his dress shirt, his hair a little bit messy as if he ran out of his apartment to make sure he wasn't late today.

you know how badly you're going to miss seeing his face around campus.

"do you remember that wish you caught me making?" you ask. "on opening night."

"i do," he answers, looking up at you so you know he's listening.

"it came true. last night. i got an email about being accepted into one of those incubator programs."

he immediately gets up from the ice bucket to hug you, your feet leaving the ground for just a moment before he sets you back down.

"that's amazing," he tells you, his hands still resting on your waist as if that’s where they belong. "where is it?"

"chicago."

you watch as a big smile breaks out across his face.

"it's only for six months," you add. he can hear the apprehension in your voice. "i don't know what i'll do after that."

"you'll figure it out," he reassures you. "you're better at making things work than you give yourself credit for."

you glance over at the bucket. the ice has already started to melt.

there's something about his certainty that shifts something in you, and you realize that this isn't fate. it's a result of all the hard work that both of you have put in to fulfill your dreams.

"i'm scared," you admit. "i don't know if i'll ever stop being scared."

"probably not," he nods. "but i'll be there. whether we're in the same place or not, i'll always be there for you. and we can try to manage it."

he doesn't tell you not to be afraid. he doesn't say that everything's going to be fine. he just... promises to stay.

"yudai?" you ask, hesitant to meet him where he's at, but his expression encourages you to keep going. "do you think you'd know anybody who would want to explore the city with me?"

you don’t think much of it when nicholas picks out a tiny floral sundress for you to wear to the park.

it’s hot out and it’s one of your boyfriend’s favorite things for you to wear. partly because of how cute you look in it and partly because of how easy it is to take off of you.

whenever people see the two of you together, they automatically assume that nicholas is the grumpy one. his sharp features contrast with your soft ones, but the second you open your mouth, it’s obvious who has an attitude problem.

you’re barely awake by the time nicholas manages to slip the dress over your head and adjust the bows on the straps.

“i’m sleepy, nico,” you whine, plopping your head back onto the pillow. “can we just stay inside today?”

“you ask that every time i have something planned for us.”

“because i’m always sleepy.”

“and you always end up happy that i’ve dragged you out of bed.”

he lets you sleep in for a few more minutes while he packs the picnic basket full of fruit and cheese and wine.

at the park, he drags you along by the hand until you reach a hidden spot of grass near the water. a large tree shades you from the sun, and you lay on the picnic blanket watching nicholas carefully arrange all of the food into a beautiful spread.

finally, he takes out his fancy film camera and points it at you.

"smile, pretty."

he snaps a few shots of you just lying there before feeding you a strawberry, your tongue barely grazing his fingertips when you're down to the last of it.

later, after you've had half a glass of champagne, he pulls you to the water's edge to take a few more pictures, the sun reflecting off the surface.

"so beautiful," he exhales, posing you like a little doll. his praise and kisses keep you from growing impatient, but there's more problems than just the sunlight and heat.

there's mosquitos flitting back and forth around you.

one plants itself on your bare arm and pinches you before you have the chance to swat it away.

"nico," you complain, frowning at him with your hand on your hip. he grins and takes a picture anyway.

"just a few more, baby. the lighting is perfect."

he's completely taking advantage of how much you love him.

you sigh before following his instructions on where to look and how to position yourself. your arms and legs start to sting a bit more as the little parasites latch onto your skin.

by the time nicholas is satisfied, you're completely covered in mosquito bites.

“i can’t blame them,” he admits apologetically, kissing one of the red bumps on your shoulder. “i wanna eat you up too.”

he makes it so hard to be irritated about how badly you want to scratch your skin off.

you scowl at him while he rubs one hand on your back and the other on your knee, your face still warm and blushed from the alcohol.

"i'll pack things up and we can go home," he promises. "and then i'll put ointment on you and give you whatever you want."

"whatever i want?" you ask, already knowing that once the itching goes away, you're going to want him all over you.

"mhmm," he hums, snapping lids onto containers and placing them into the basket. he stands and reaches for your hands to pull you up from the picnic blanket. "gotta show you how sorry i am."

you peer up at him, pretending to be irritated, his grip tight on your waist. "it's all your fault."

"i know," he says softly. "the pictures are gonna come out so good, though. you did such a good job today, baby."

"how come you didn't get bitten?" you grumble into his chest.