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badb1tchbokuto · 4 years

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Alone, Together

Miya Atsumu x F! Reader

“Lame.” Typical.

“Self-righteous prick,” Okay that one hurt a little, but fine.

“Your game is weak.” Atsumu would like to think it wasn’t. It was just that he’d never really had to try. Whereas he focused all his efforts and love on the game of volleyball, he never really put in much effort on the dating game. Casual flings, short term relationships, one night stands - he was no stranger to all of this. He was attractive, successful, and had a steady career that allowed him to afford VIP tables in pretentious places like this. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be into that?

You apparently.

...In which Atsumu experiences his first existential crisis after you reject him at a club.

wc: 6k

tw: alcohol consumption, swearing, mild smut, slight angst, lots of fluff

(crossposted on Ao3)

Thursday, 10:00pm JST

Tokyo is alight and alive. The autumn sun is steadily dimming against a sea of ultramodern buildings and bright billboards that are beginning to light the city in incandescent neons. Crowds are meandering through the busy capital, with tourists slowly walking and stopping at every turn to take photos and gaze at their seemingly surreal surroundings, friends chatting vividly as they make their way to dinner, and employees ambling towards the crowded subway stations to line up and finally make their way home or just find some respite.

You, somehow, are a combination of all three.

Twenty four hours ago, you landed in Haneda from Charles de Gaulle. Jet lagged and bleary eyed, you stuttered your way through customs in your broken but passable Japanese, lost a suitcase that had most of your professional attire needed for the next day’s back to back meetings with investors, then had to be comforted by your driver as you explained the situation in distress all the way to your hotel in the business district of Minato.

You couldn’t help but feel unsettled and overwhelmed as it was after all, your first trip to Japan for professional matters. All your other times in the country had been spent with family, past lovers or on study abroad trips with best friends, but this time it was just you.

Adult you, in your first big girl work trip, in your dream field of fashion, in your dream city of Tokyo.

It has almost been twenty fours since you landed in the capital, and you’ve miraculously survived your first day. Barely. Admittedly you slept in a little too late after downing the entire complimentary bottle of Daiginjo from the hotel by yourself the night before, and this morning you spent over thirty minutes trying to transform your jet lagged mug with a “no make up make up” look only to end up still being asked by the sweet door people if you were heading to a special party. The upside is that the sake made you sleep like a baby, and smartly you paired your unexpectedly dramatic make-up with a killer outfit, resulting in you being recharged and sharp throughout the day, impressing your boss and potential investors alike.

Friday, 8:30pm JST

You had just emerged from your hotel to freshen up after a long day of work, now heading to dinner in Shibuya to meet with friends you’ve studied abroad with who were now living in Tokyo. Clad in a slinky Jacquemus silk dress and your favorite stilettos, you stand outside the grand entrance of the Tokyu Plaza, sending your girls a quick text to note that you got there a little earlier than expected, informing them that you’d be waiting at the restaurant’s rooftop bar instead.

The restaurant your friends chose was on the 17th floor of the building, a French fusion restaurant that turns into a nightclub after midnight and promises to have the best rooftop views of the Tokyo skyline. It seemed especially busy tonight, as there was already a line of young men and women eager to wait just to get into the club despite the area not opening hours from now.

Overhearing hushed snippets of conversations around you, it sounded like some celebrities were going to be there tonight. You brush it off, looking forward to having a moment to yourself to sip on an espresso martini, maybe even a few truffle sliders while waiting on your friends to arrive.

Busy thinking about whether you have time to eat one or three of the sliders before dinner, you absentmindedly made your way to the host at the front of the already buzzing line.

Halfway there, you feel a gentle but firm tap on your shoulder.

You turn, only to face a very toned and very broad chest dripping in two thin yellow gold snake chains layered over a printed silk button down, a piece from Gucci’s latest season. “Impressive.. ” you think to yourself as you lift your gaze as slowly and as nonchalantly as you can to see the man’s face, even though your eyes are probably already dilating in anticipation, because if the chest was already impressive and you were already having sinful thoughts about dragging your tongue on his chiseled pecs then moving down, well then...

“Yes?” You reply softly as your eyes roam upwards, starting with his strong jawline, to his warm, sugary brown gaze, up to his soft tousled blonde hair, and back down to his full lips, his canines and pink tongue slightly peeking out, adorned in a confident smirk that both turned you on and pissed you off.

“Fuck. I’d definitely let you ruin my life..or my pussy.” You couldn’t help but immediately think to yourself.

Without introducing himself, he slowly licks his lips, then cooly offers. “You headin’ up to Ce La Vi? My friends and I have a VIP table up there so you won’t have to wait until midnight to be let in. You can skip the line with me.”

“No thanks.” You curtly decline, irritated and offended that he assumed you needed his help to skip the line, let alone afford to enter the establishment for dinner.

You swerve past him, thinking that he’s another sleazy club promoter. Very attractive yes, but you’d like to think you were past making those types of mistakes at this age. Sexy guy leveraging his social status so that he can two pump chump you then ghost you until he needs pretty girls to fill up his club table? Hard pass.

Atsumu on the other hand, is confused.

That simple line never fails; it’s not aggressive but is still quite direct, and it wasn’t creepy. At least he didn’t think so. If anything, he thought he sounded nonchalant and cool.. Almost like Suna...right? Although he’d never let Suna know that he tries to emulate him when trying to pick up girls. Or that he thinks Suna is “nonchalant and cool.” God forbid he gets roasted on the group chat for yet another reason. Also, isn’t it always a great opportunity to skip the line at some overhyped dining club and get wined and dined by a handsome athlete like him? He’s never really had a problem using that line before, in fact his body count was proof of its success rate, so why did it not work on you?

You definitely seemed like you would be impressed by status and flash, considering you literally made his head turn because of your confident strides, wafting a luxuriously sexy scent. A melange of rose, vanilla, maybe the homemade marshmallows Samu makes in the winter... And definitely a tinge of the special perfume he was gifted by the Tom Ford team that he only reserves for special occasions. Something with tobacco and oud. Plus, he also definitely remembers shelling out 300,000¥ to buy the same Dior purse you had on for his ex-girlfriend last Christmas.

You saunter ahead of him, completely ignoring the screams and flash that followed. “Ah..So the celebrity has arrived.” You think to yourself. “They’ll probably be escorted to some special entrance anyway.”

The doorman checks your name on the tablet and leads you to wait in front of an elevator. As you scroll through your phone, waiting for the elevators to take you up to the restaurant, you see him awkwardly standing behind you, rapidly typing away on his phone, very obviously trying to avoid your gaze.

Unlucky for both of you, you two were the only ones cleared by the front desk to go on the elevator.

The ride up to the 17th floor felt like an eternity, a palpable awkward silence marred by elevator music eerily like the Wii theme song dragged the seconds on.

Atsumu couldn’t wait to get out of the cramped space. He wanted so desperately to rush out and find Bokuto, Hinata, or honestly, he’d even practice his abysmal English with Adriah at this point just to get the hell away from you.

It wasn’t that Atsumu found you repulsive, quite the contrary actually. He found you so goddamned sexy, poised with a distinct self-assured stance that he only knew his former high school volleyball captain to have. You were magnetic, like an invisible force just happened to transfix Atsumu’s attention to you when he saw you standing at the plaza, leading him to follow you to the restaurant, thanking his lucky stars that he was also heading the same way since he most definitely kind of looked creepy staring at a lone woman in the middle of the street like that.

The fact that you were immediately repelled by his kind suggestion to skip the line with him boggled him. Feeling claustrophobic in a roomy elevator decorated in mirrors that showed your reflection from all angles, he tries even more desperately to avoid looking at you, so he resorts to giving a play by play to his brother over text, only to get obliterated by Osamu.

“Lame.” Typical.

“Self-righteous prick,” Okay that one hurt a little, but fine.

“Your game is weak.” He’d like to think it wasn’t. It was just that he’d never really had to try. Whereas Atsumu focused all his efforts and love on the game of volleyball, he never really put in much effort on the dating game. Casual flings, short term relationships, one night stands - he was no stranger to all of this. He was attractive, successful, and had a steady career that allowed him to afford VIP tables in pretentious places like this. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be into that?

You apparently.

“Oh well, your loss.” He tries to reason with himself.

As soon as the doors open, Atsumu lets you pass like the gentleman he was raised to be. Okay, maybe he checks you out one last time, because damn that ass... and maybe he also tries to catch a whiff of your intoxicating perfume… but no one had to know that.

He walks away to find his teammates inside the VIP dining area, wanting to just forget about you and move on with his night. You on the other hand, leisurely make your way to the open rooftop bar.

Shortly after, your friends Yuki and Kaori arrive, apologizing for their tardiness and promising a good time as they insist on going out clubbing with some of their friends from high school.

You hadn’t seen the sexy arrogant promoter or his “VIP” group throughout dinner. You forget about him or at least try to, happy to finally munch away on the anticipated dinner, reminisce about your wild college days and catch up with old friends.

Friday, 11:30pm JST

A couple of hours later, inhibitions loose from the free flow of alcohol offered at the restaurant mixed in with a bottle of champagne to celebrate your reunion, the three of you egg each other on to take shots at the bar before checking out the now bustling dance floor, surrounded by the VIP booths inside. Not a minute more after walking indoors do you hear a loud energetic voice holler, “YUKIPPE?!”

“Bokuto-san!!!” Yuki excitedly calls out, dragging you and Kaori over to greet a boisterous, incredibly buff man with two toned spiky hair. Behind him sitting on the plush rounded couches is a small group of young men who are all just as attractive and well-dressed, with an orange haired male capturing most of their attention, spinning an animated tale that had the table howling in raucous laughter.

The only one whose attention was away from the tanned male you heard is called Hinata is the promoter from downstairs, looking directly at you in shock.

“Oh fuck.”

Three buttons on his shirt were now unbuttoned, giving you a more intimate view of his chest. The same, broad, muscled chest you fantasized over earlier. His gaze is unrelenting, and you realize you had also been staring back at him when Kaori waves her hands in front of your face, trying to get your attention.

“Giiiiiirl? Hello?”

You revert your attention back to your group, acting as if you definitely weren’t just thinking about jumping on the blonde’s lap then and there, pulling him into a kiss, grinding on him as you unbutton his shirt and pants in a desperate, heated haze and then...

Kaori interrupts your thoughts with, “This is our friend from high school, Bokuto-san! His boyfriend Akaashi-kun will be joining us later.” Bokuto is beaming down at you with a megawatt smile and pulls you in a bear hug as you move to shake his hand.

Yuki introduces you as their friend from university that just moved to help launch a Japanese edition of a niche French fashion magazine. She adds, “Bokuto is the star ace of his volleyball team, and these are some of his teammates from the MSBY Black Jackals.”

At this, Bokuto bellows a “ HEY HEY HEY!” that garners the attention of his teammates and onlookers alike.

His teammates warmly welcome you and the girls to their table, as if you’re all old friends simply catching up. Comfortable, you engage Hinata and Meian in a lively conversation about your common experiences while traveling in Brazil. From your shared love of pao de queijo, debating where the best feijoada can be found in Rio, all the way to sharing the wild scenes you’ve all seen in Ipanema's legendary posto 8, banter flowing easily.

You were having a great time, happy to make new friends.

Atsumu had been stealthily watching you throughout the introductions. You acted as if it was the first time you’ve met him, then gracefully jumped into a discussion with his captain and newest teammate as if you were all best friends, when in fact for the last two weeks since Shoyo had joined the team, he’d nervously run to the bathroom every time Meian tried to talk to him for longer than five minutes. Now here he is, laughing with you and the captain about your shared culture shock in realizing how comfortable Brazilians were with skinship.

Atsumu met you less than three hours ago, but every little detail he picks up about you fascinates him more and more. There wasn’t a single thing about you that he didn’t like so far, leaving him intrigued, pining to get to know more. Except for one little big thing.. you flat out rejected him, so now he’s actively avoiding you out of respect for the boundaries you set initially.

Still, he was riveted. He wanted to get to know you one way or another, even if it was trying to casually listen in on your conversations with his teammates.

“What a creep.” Sakusa interrupts his thoughts, rolling his eyes at Atsumu.

Bokuto leans in and attempts to whisper in a hushed tone, in an octave that was definitely too loud to be a whisper, “She’s super cute Tsumtsum! Go for it!”

“Just talk to her, you’ve been staring at her the entire time. It’s starting to get weird.” Sakusa adds.

For arguably the first time in his adult life, Atsumu is insecure.

How does he approach you for the second time? He doesn’t even know what to talk to you about. Here you were, casually conversing about your world travels when he’d never even left Japan except for international matches. You, decked out in designer items he’d gifted different ex-girlfriends as apologies or appeasements for every time he prioritized volleyball over them. You, who were already chummy with his teammates even though it took him months to warm up to them. For fuck’s sake, sometimes his jokes still fall flat, but here you are cracking jokes and making even Omi chuckle. Who the hell are you? And how can Atsumu get to know you? Does he want to be like you or be inside you? How does he even get your attention without seeming like a desperate jerk? Why the fuck does he care what some random girl thinks of him?

He never really cared about what others thought of him outside of volleyball, but when he can’t rely on his one true love to speak for him, who is he and what does he have to offer?

Having an existential crisis at an ostentatious club at midnight was definitely not something Atsumu wanted to do. Yet here he is, feeling as dejected as the day he wore the Jackasuke costume and slipped in public for the whole world to see.

Swirling the melting ball of ice on his crystal glass filled with Yamazaki 18, he didn't notice that you had moved closer to him.

“They say whiskey is a depressant. Is that why you look so sad?” You joke, then gesture to his drink with a small smile.

Atsumu lifts his head to look at you, then freezes upon realizing your close proximity. He counters, “Really? What should I have for a good time then?”

“Me.” You cheekily reply and wink at him.

He grins at you, confidence steadily regaining at realizing that he might have a chance with you after all.

Saturday, 12:00am JST

Pouring a newly opened bottle of Ace of Spades on two champagne flutes laid out on the table, you make amends.

“Sorry for being so rude earlier. I get really defensive when I’m randomly approached by men, especially because I thought you were a promoter looking to get girls to join your table… I didn’t know I had mutual friends with some hotshot athlete.” You smile awkwardly.

He laughs and jokes back, but there is definitely some weight to his sentiment.

“Ah, but since Imma hotshot athlete, s’all good now right?”

You replace the whiskey glass in his hands with a champagne flute and shoot back. “Nah, I really thought you were trying to pimp me out to your flashy friends who bought tables from you, or worse, that you were just trying to get a quick fuck.”

Atsumu chokes on his own spit at your frank reply, and you giggle before lowering your voice so only he could hear.

You counter, “For the record, I would have been down for the latter, except you didn’t even introduce yourself. You should also know that I don’t ever need your help to get places.”

You smile innocently at him as if you didn’t just confirm that you were down to fuck if only he had played his cards right. His mind fogs, instantly imagining dragging you to the nearest bathroom to fuck you silly. He thinks about what it would feel like to sloppily kiss your full lips, moving his hands from your hair down to your neck and shoulders, feeling the curves of your body graciously skimming the silk fabric of your dress, only to unwrap you like a prized gift and worship you with his tongue.

You clear your throat, well aware that Atsumu’s most likely imagining fucking you given his glazed over eyes and parted lips.

With a blush, he tries to cover his reddening cheeks and neck by downing his drink. He bounces back with a, “Well then. The name’s Atsumu, 23 years old, professional volleyball player - the best damned setter the MSBY Black Jackals and the Japanese National Team has ever seen.”

Atsumu realizes then that he never really had to introduce himself. Not seriously anyway. Most people around him already knew who he was; his teammates, coaches, players within the league, aspiring volleyball players, fans of the game, fans of his.. even people around him who didn’t have interest in volleyball just generally knew of his reputation as one of Japan’s most talented athletes and eligible bachelors.

How does he tell you about himself without pulling out his phone to show you his current stats or videos of his top sets as proof that he really is as good as he says? Without looking like an ass? Even worse, what does he tell you about himself without volleyball being the main subject?

You smile, intrigued at how he suddenly seemed so sure of himself while talking about volleyball, emitting pride and passion as he describes his profession.

So you continue to ask him about the sport. Atsumu visibly relaxes, his love for the game evident as he discusses their most recent friendly match, the reason why their Osaka based team is in the capital just before some of them start training for the Olympics. The other boys jump in and out of the conversation, with Yuki and Kaori clarifying certain terms to you when they see you furrow your brows in confusion.

As the alcohol keeps flowing and the conversation moves to the upcoming Olympics, you and Atsumu have veered off the multiple group conversations and are transfixed on each other.

He asks you what you’re doing in Tokyo and how you ended up there, so you tell him you graduated from university recently, originally intending to become a Doctor but decided to pause and move to Paris upon graduation, wherein between random side hustles you somehow landed a job in editorial fashion. Thus landing you in Tokyo on an extended work trip.

Atsumu is bewildered at how you could switch careers so easily and still succeed, that you have multiple passions and follow them according to your whims.

He couldn’t imagine living a life like yours, volleyball being the only thing he’s actively pursued since realizing he had to make a living somehow. He wonders whether he chose volleyball as a career because it was the only thing he was good at and the only thing he could think of when his high school teacher asked him about his options for the future.

Deep down he knows that he loves the sport more than anything else, the driving force and principle behind his very essence. Still he can’t help but wonder, what if he chose do something else? What if he found a different passion to pursue? Would he have made a good doctor? Lawyer? Entrepreneur and chef like Samu? He shudders, lost for answers. He settles his raging thoughts by simply asking, “How could you switch careers so easily?”

You pause to think for a while, then casually respond.

“People are multi-faceted. I think there’s different versions to us as we navigate life. We fall in and out of love with different people, hobbies, places, food, aesthetics... There are just so many variables, so many moving parts as we get older.. Who’s to decide that we have to be tied to the same job or pursue the same passion for the rest of our lives?”

This confuses him even more, and he decides that despite you having the same self-assured aura that Kita-san has, you’re the complete opposite of him, different from everyone around him actually. Him, his brother, his friends, his exes, all of whom either have a clear direction or some semblance of goals and dreams for the future.

You on the other hand, are all risk. You boldly trek into the unknown, unafraid and ready to face the variables and twist them so that they fall to your favor. Atsumu supposes that in this way, he relates to you.

He replies, “Huh. Weird but I guess I kinda get it. It’s like when I’m on court observing opponents. I have to sniff out and adapt to whatever bullshit they’re on, tweak our plays and my settin’ style to make sure we crush them. Sorta like a gamble.”

“Exactly.” You confirm.

“Eh..but nothing feels better than winnin’. How do you even know if you’re winning when you don’t have set objectives?” Atsumu counters.

You playfully roll your eyes at him.

“I do! My objectives are just adjusted to my current surroundings. I’d say pondering over the inherent philosophical value of career choices in a rooftop bar in Tokyo with a sexy volleyball setter is winning.”

“Touché.”

He grins, aiming to pour more champagne to your flutes before realizing that you two polished off the bottle of Ace on the table and that your friends were all in various states of inebriation.

Yuki dancing with her boyfriend, Kaori grinding on Adriah, Bokuto and Hinata on the dance floor twerking on the older MSBY members to Reggaeton, Sakusa and Akaashi watching all of this in amused horror.

“Wanna dance?” Atsumu asks.

After topping your glasses with overpriced bottle service liquor, you move towards the dance floor at the center of the club, joining your friends.

You’re shocked at how well Atsumu can dance, easily gripping your hips and moving with you as you gyrate against him to 90s hip hop jams. Hinata finds you both and proceeds to dance on you, laughing as you twirl him and sandwich him between you and Atsumu.

After a couple more songs, you, Bokuto, and the girls end up dancing on top of a random table screaming the lyrics to the newest Megan Thee Stallion song.

Yuki somehow proceeds to wrangle you all back to your table to take shot after shot, fueling the night to go on.

Saturday, 3:00am JST

Your group stumbles out of the rooftop bar, with the married MSBY members calling it a night. Bokuto on the other hand, is already ordering an Uber Lux to take you all from Shibuya to an even more upscale club in Minato, on the other end of Tokyo for a good nightcap.

Atsumu holds your hand as you enter the club, the most he’s gotten to touch you since dancing with you earlier.

Your group downs more bottles of champagne and vodka, all dancing on each other at your table.

Emboldened by the alcohol in your system, you pop your ass a little more against Atsumu’s crotch, swaying more seductively to a random top forty hit. Feeling him hardening against his fitted trousers, you turn to face him, skimming your fingers on his chains and chest as you continue to dance. In turn he runs his hands up and down your sides, moving more liberally to each drop of the beat, grazing up the underside of your breasts and back down to cup the curve of your ass. His hands feel warm on your body, steadily stoking a growing fire in you.

You gaze up at Atsumu, tilting your head to lightly graze your lips against his neck, trailing upwards towards his ear, effectively sending shivers down his spine. You whisper, “Would you consider this winning, hotshot?” licking the shell of his ear, resulting in Atsumu groaning lowly as you move your head to look back at him.

With hazy eyes, Atsumu looks at you, then whispers, “Winning would be when I’ve made you come with my mouth so many times you’re beggin’ me to fuck you.. but until then pretty girl, this is pretty close.”

You pussy throbs as his lips brush against your skin with every whisper, but before you can even respond, Atsumu kisses you.

His soft lips press on yours, capturing your lower lip in a soft bite that elicits pleasure that starts in your belly then moves down south. His hands continue to move up and down your sides, now more possessive in grabbing your ass to bring you closer to him.

You teasingly lick his parted lips, prompting Atsumu to dance his tongue against yours.

Lost in open mouthed kisses that have you both desperately groping each other’s clothed bodies on the dance floor, you feel Atsumu brush his knuckle over your breasts, motions languid and repeating as your nipples arouse and become visible through your silk dress.

Your entire body is overheating. You moan against his mouth.

He whispers, “Wanna take this somewhere more private?” You nod immediately, then rush to tell your friends you’d catch up with them over brunch tomorrow.

Atsumu is waiting by the exit, but as soon as he sees you, he is so turned on he can’t help but sear you into another heated kiss, leaving you both weak and wanting.

Saturday, 4:30am JST

Miraculously, the nearest Uber is 25 minutes away and the cabs are far and few. Atsumu starts to dial a private car service, but then notices you wandering down the street.

“Oi!! Where you goin’?” He calls out.

You pout. “I’m hungry.”

Atsumu offers to order you room service at his hotel but you decline, taking his calloused but surprisingly moisturized hand as you skip down a tiny alley way towards a conbini.

Inside, you fill your basket to the brim with an assortment of junk food. Chips, instant ramen, sandwiches, daifuku mochi, fried chicken poppers, and every other snack you find with cute packaging before finally leading you to the end of an aisle, choosing between which types of onigiri to purchase.

Atsumu goes along with you, advising you which brands to get, which to avoid, even putting his favorites in the basket. Although he knows his trainer will punish him with brutal training sessions if he sees the shit he’s about to put on his body, he thinks it’s all worth it. He knows he’ll feel guilty come morning, spending hours at the gym to burn it all off, but right now he couldn’t care less. Not after seeing you starry eyed at how many options of onigiri there are, and how absolutely adorable you look when asking him about which snacks he thinks could fit in your purse to save for later.

Trying to impress you, Atsumu comments. “Y’know, I make a mean tuna onigiri.”

No he doesn’t. His brother does, but you don’t know that. Not yet at least.

“Oh yeah? Want to make me some one of these days?” You respond.

Securing a date with you before the night even ends? Hell yeah.

Atsumu thanks his lucky stars, confidently confirming. “Sure, how does tomorrow evening sound?”

“Baby, our night hasn’t even ended and you’re booking me for tomorrow already. Are you trying to cuff me?”

“Yes. Then wife you.” But Atsumu holds his tongue for once.

Instead he winks at you, responding with a casual “Only if you want me to” with a wide, cheeky, canine bearing smile.

Laughing, you roll your eyes at him as he swoops in to carry your basket and insists on paying for your drunken munchies haul.

Saturday, 5:15am JST

Somehow you and Atsumu end up sitting on a park bench, sharing the food he bought from the conbini. Like two excitable school children on a field trip, you trade half bitten snacks with each other while talking about everything and nothing in between.

He tells you about his twin brother Osamu, who he insists is definitely uglier and the bummy version of him; how they did everything together up until Samu decided to open up his own restaurant and stay in their hometown of Hyogo instead of playing professional volleyball like him.

Atsumu tells you all about their childhood, from catching bugs to keep as pets and sneaking them to their room only to hear their ma screaming about it in the middle of the night, to how he always took from Samu’s secret snack stash, always denied doing so when confronted, but always paid him back with interest by secretly dropping a chunk of his monthly allowance on Samu’s piggy bank. The same one that Samu would later break open to help fund the opening of his restaurant. All the petty fights that turned into brawls, only to act like nothing happened despite being covered in scratches as soon as their tired mom walked through the door after a long day of work. He talks about his twin in such an easygoing manner, love overflowing in his voice and reminiscent of when he was speaking about volleyball, but this time there’s a twinge of wistfulness and melancholy to his tone.

“You miss him.” You softly conclude.

“That idiot? Nah.”

“It’s okay. I won’t hold it against you for blackmail.” You tease.

Atsumu concedes. “Okay maybe a little.”

Loose lipped from the alcohol still flowing in his veins, he continues.

“Samu and I have always been together. Startin’ at the womb for fuck’s sake, fightin’ each other over stupid shit, getting our asses kicked by our ma, sharin’ a room, spewing random thoughts to each other only the two of us would understand, goin’ to the same school, on the same volleyball teams, with the same friends, or rather him havin’ friends that ended up adoptin’ me to their group.”

He chuckles. “I think I took it all for granted, havin’ someone there always with me.. Even if he always got on my ass for the littlest things and it used to always piss me off. Deep down I knew he was always just lookin’ out for me, just didn’t know how ta’ show it. I mean, I didn’t either.”

He laughs because he knows he still doesn’t know how. “It’s almost been four years since I moved away from home and...”

He doesn’t finish the sentiment, but he doesn’t have to.

Atsumu is alone, and although he loves to brag to Osamu and their friends about the freedom having his own space brings, he knows he’s also so fucking lonely.

You finish his thought for him by empathizing. “I get it. I mean, kind of. I don’t have a twin so I can only imagine, but I’ve been living on my own for quite some time now, in between countries with parents who don’t support my career change and friends always in different places than where I am. It’s isolating. But hey, that’s why we put ourselves out there right? Why you acted like a sleazy promoter in front of the club and why I acted like a stone cold bitch earlier only to come at you? Our lame attempts at easing loneliness in hopes that one day, someone might finally understand... or just be there to try.”

You chuckle half-heartedly, nudging his shoulders to try and ease the somber tension.

He turns to look at you, smiling up at him, listening and just trying to understand. He can’t help himself. He pulls you into a sweet kiss that tastes of strawberry daifuku and expensive champagne.

Atsumu knows that you’ll never understand what it’s like to have a twin, to live a life away from them, to suddenly pursue a passion you thought was shared only to have to do it all on your own.. He thinks it’s amazing that you’re even listening to him rant about his nostalgia, even when he knows his thoughts seem incoherent, even when he currently doesn’t even know how to define himself.

In a dimly lit park in Azabu, you and Atsumu find solace in each other’s solitude.

He doesn’t know how he managed to basically word vomit to a stranger issues he finds too embarrassing to even mention to his brother, yet here he is. He doesn’t even know why barely two hours ago you were feeling each other up at a club, about to go back to his hotel room and drunkenly fuck, but now here you were at a park in the middle of a ritzy neighborhood in Tokyo, sharing snacks, stories and innocent kisses.

Talking to you, kissing you, hell even drunkenly shopping for food with you felt like second nature to him, as if you had been with him all along and this was just part of you two’s routine. Atsumu doesn’t know why though, since you couldn’t be more different from him.

You, who finds sparks of interest then bravely torches it aflame, letting it change your life as you go along. Then there’s him, lucky to have found his passion early on, pursuing it steadfastly since then, letting it consume and define him.

Perhaps it was the fact that you found each other incredibly attractive and you both were just looking for some sort of release, sexual or not.

Or honestly, maybe it’s the shared loneliness of being newly minted adults, trying to navigate life on your own without the familiar crutches only youth affords.

Whatever it is, Atsumu finds himself even more drawn to you.

“Being alone, if it’s together with you, isn’t so bad after all,” he thinks.

He watches you as you look up to observe the night sky rapidly fading to make room for the soft pastels of dawn, a soft smile painting your pretty lips. He doesn’t realize he mirrors your smile as soon as he sees it.

At 23, Atsumu doesn’t know the answers to a lot of things. He knows now that you don’t either, but he definitely knows then that he wants you to be there with him as you both figure it all out.

Saturday, 3:45pm JST

“I need a favor Samu. I need to make dinner to pair with onigiri. Oh wait, actually I also need to make onigiri. Tuna scallion.”

“You? Cookin? What?”

“It’s for this girl...”

“A girl agreed to let you cook for her? Is she sane? Conscious? Did you force her?”

“Fuck off!”

“Bet.”

Osamu hangs up.

Atsumu panics and calls him back immediately.

“Fuck I’m sorry!! I’m sorry! I… mighthavetoldherIcookwelltoimpressher.”

“Ah so you’re posin’ as me. I knew I was the superior twin.”

“You wish!! But please... I really like her. It’s the girl from yesterday.”

In all 23 years of being Atsumu’s brother, Osamu had never heard of Atsumu wanting to impress a girl by actually doing something for her. Buying them all the shit they could want, taking them out to eat wherever they want, sure. But actively taking time out of his day, time that could’ve been spent training, to do something for someone else, not even sure if the end result might pay off?

This was new.

Knowing Tsumu’s lack of patience and short attention span, the food will be barely edible. He knows Tsumu expects this to happen already; so he’s intrigued that his brother really insists on trying.

He’s always known Atsumu to be a gambler on court. Off court, he takes the safe routes. So for him to suddenly take a gamble like this, you must have been pretty damn special.

“Alright, scrub. I’ll send you the ingredients list. Facetime me when you’re back in the kitchen.”

- - -

Notes: The places noted in the story are based on real locations in Tokyo. See below if you’d like to imagine more vividly where you and Atsumu’s adventures took place. :)

Locations used:

1. Rooftop bar/restaurant - Ce la Vi, Shibuya

2. 3am club - 1Oak, Minato

3. Conbini - Lawson's (any one of them in Azabu)

4. Park - Mamiana Park, Azabu

#atsumu x you #atsumu x female reader #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu fic #haikyuu!!#miya atsumu #atsumu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #hq x you #haikyuu timestamps #atsumu x reader #e.writes

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jobsearchtips02 · 5 years

Text

China Says It’s Now Quarantining Old Cash to Combat Spread of Coronavirus

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for (let el of instances) { tryToMount(controllerFn, el, name); }

for (let el of defaults) { tryToMount(controllerFn, el, name); } } }); }

// Make sure that a `window.process.env.NODE_ENV` is available in the client for any dependencies, // services, or components that could require it // note: the “ value is swapped for the actual environment variable in /lib/cmd/compile/scripts.js window.process = window.process || {}; window.process.env = window.process.env || {}; if (!window.process.env.NODE_ENV) { window.process.env.NODE_ENV = ”; }

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from Job Search Tips https://jobsearchtips.net/china-says-its-now-quarantining-old-cash-to-combat-spread-of-coronavirus/

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rising-ashes · 3 years

Text

sharing the sky; you and i

pairing: heeseung x reader genre: angst, one-sided/unrequited love word count: 1.1k warning: swearing, contains mentions of jake x reader, unedited note: inspired by @linoragi's smau you, me and the moon. intended as a continuation of the alt ending. go read it and send her some love if you haven't already! <3

heeseung steps into the cold night with a heavy heart. the door to his apartment closes with the soft click, and he walks a familiar path absentmindedly, one foot after the other. it’s something he does often, to be honest.

he wishes it wasn’t.

it doesn’t feel quite right. it never has, it never will. yet he does it anyway, from time to time, with the same ache in his chest.

there’s not exactly a pattern to his outings. at least, that’s what he says when asked about it. “it’s just to clear my head,” he claims. “just whenever it feels right.”

but more often than not, the sky above is clear, hardly a cloud in sight, stars burning bright amongst it. the moon shines in its various stages, sometimes full, sometimes new. but he doesn’t think he’s ever been out during its waxing stages; only ever in its waning ones, when the moon seems to be slipping out of sight, out of grasp.

that’s how it is tonight, he sees as he reaches the familiar field. it’s devoid of much else, just an open area with a couple places to sit. he looks up at the sky to find the moon barely visible, disappearing into the night as if it can’t stand to be seen, yet can’t bear to be forgotten either. so it merely peeks out a sliver, watching as it always does.

he comes here to think. most commonly, to think about you. to remember what it was like, to show you how beautiful it is, just that one time.

a painful reminder of what could have been.

he could show you the stars, point out the constellations. he could hold your hand in his, connecting the two of you, bringing you closer and closer.

but it wasn’t meant to be; the sun and the moon weren’t made to meet each other for long. the distance between them is far too wide. being in such close proximity would send the universe into catastrophic disorder. and so heeseung is your moon, he comes and goes, passing you in the halls, but never quite as close as he wants to be. his presence waxes and wanes, catching glimpses of you from the corner, stopping for a few minutes to exchange greetings. you still keep in contact with each other, but it’s far from consistent. it’s been ages since he’s slipped a note into your locker either.

that’s not to mean he doesn’t still write them. but the pages of that journal are reserved for his eyes only, because his sun isn’t really his — there’s a whole universe for the sun, and he’s grateful to be included in it at all.

sometimes, the moon is visible during the day while the sun has yet to completely leave; the two pass each other, not quite strangers, but little more than acquaintances. friends in passing, perhaps. the sun and the moon are not meant to know each other intimately.

once in a blue moon, you’ll sit down over coffee together. he always hands you your drink by the time you arrive, having memorized your favorite long ago. yet though you talk for a while, long enough for the sun to dip down past the ground, it’s never anything meaningful. casual chatter about coursework and sports, or the party last weekend. but the moon is willing to take in all the light it can from the sun, and though it’s not nearly as personal as he would like, heeseung accepts it for what it is, revels in your smile as you recall the date jake took you on the other night.

right. jake.

it’s yours and jake’s anniversary today. how could he forget? he saw you earlier today, grinning from ear to ear the moment jake walked through the doors.

he sees the way jake holds you. likewise, he sees how much love you hold for him, how much your eyes glimmer like the north star itself when jake slips his hand into yours. he sees his sun burning a million times brighter, and who is he to be the one to extinguish that light?

heeseung’s not exactly bitter about it; he’s always wanted to you be happy. as much as he wishes it could be him, the truth is that it isn’t. maybe in some other timeline, one where he got his shit together and told you the truth — or never bothered to lie at all. but that didn’t happen, and he’s truly glad jake makes you happy. he knows he can trust his friend to give you all the you deserve, to bring you the stars from the sky.

so he watches from afar instead, content to see you so happy. jake treats you right, far better than he could’ve. fuck, he was such a mess. it’s better to see you shining, than to collide and wreak havoc among your universe, isn’t it?

a heavy sigh escapes his lips once more, his breath frosting in the cold. “i’m still hung up on you, y/n. i shouldn’t be, i know. but as long as you’re happy, that’s enough for me. so long as you keep smiling, i’ll be okay.”

heeseung shoves his hands into his pockets as he makes the walk back to his apartment.

the sun burns bright for everyone, and the moon merely takes its light, reflecting it when the sun isn’t there to witness how beautiful it can be. the sun doesn’t need the moon, maybe doesn’t even realize it’s there, but the moon relies on the sun to keep going.

a halfhearted chuckle bubbles from his chest.

that’s exactly how it is, between you and him. maybe you two were never meant to be, and naming himself as your moon was a self-fulfilling prophecy, for him to continually pine after you, knowing you won’t be his.

even if he wants to move on, to relieve the pangs to his heart whenever he sees jake wrapping his arms around you, he can’t help but be drawn to you, orbiting. maybe the moon wants to break out of this cycle, yet he can’t help but circle around and around his world.

the trek back to his apartment is silent, save for the clatter of the rocks he kicks from his path. he’s guided by the light of the moon on these nights with himself. perhaps it’s what he needs.

there’s no sun in sight, even with how late heeseung had stayed out. only the moon, still shimmering in the sky in place of the sun. the door creaks open and shut, leaving heeseung alone in the silence of his apartment. “huh. looks like it’s just me and the moon now, doll.”

permanent taglist [open!]: @linoragi

likes and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen angst #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung scenarios #e.writes #sorry for more angst it just happened #robi made too many thoughts happen by writing the smau

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rising-ashes · 3 years

Text

don’t push me out; let me be there

pairing: kim sunoo x gender neutral reader genre: angst, some fluff word count: 1.3k warnings: mild swearing note: university au, inspired by for me, previous work in this au can be found here! overall pairing is as stated above, this piece also contains platonic jay park & reader (for those unfamiliar with for me, jay and y/n are cousins)

as you close the door to your apartment, you crumple to the floor, wiping at your cheeks. it’s only been a couple weeks since you moved to attend your dream university. so far, things have been going well. the atmosphere is inviting, and you’ve already made some friends in your classes. honestly, there’s not much to complain about. there’s even a restaurant that reminds you of home right across the street — you can tell your pocket money will be well-spent there, but who can blame you? their food is phenomenal, and you can’t help but think of how much your friends back home would love it here too.

and that’s exactly what’s left you crying, holding your knees to your chest.

this would’ve been the perfect place for you all to unwind and grab dinner for long nights of studying. you can easily see yourselves making a quick stop after class to catch up over bubble tea here. hell, you can practically see riki reaching over to steal food from heeseung’s plate with jake bursting out into laughter, hitting his hand against the table.

except they won’t. not here, not with you. they can’t.

because you’re here — alone — while they’re still at home together.

you’ve never understood what people meant when they said “home isn’t always a place; it’s a feeling” until now.

you miss home. visiting the park at sunset and messing around at the playground at night; complaining about teachers and piles of papers in the days leading up to finals; movie nights after said finals with all of you squished together on the couch, popcorn strewn across the floor. even sunghoon’s schemes, no matter how ridiculous they were, that’s home.

sunoo became part of home, too. or maybe he always was, ever since that day in tenth grade. from pining after him with tweet after tweet, to him chasing after you; from mutual pining to confessions turned to dates, he’s been part of your life for what feels like forever.

but now you’re here, without him.

everything feels so much duller without your sunshine. there’s plenty of places that would’ve made for perfect dates; you can’t help but imagine leading him around the city with interlocked pinkies. the garden you visited the other day made you grin with joy as you snapped photos, swiping to your messaging app before remembering your promise.

no more contact.

you want to call him just to yell at him for asking you to do such a thing; there’s not a day that’s passed without a heavy weight in your chest.

but that wouldn’t be fair to him. you agreed to the damn thing, after all, and you understand why he asked, too.

knowing that doesn’t make it stop hurting, though, nor does it make you long for his presence any less. you keep seeing glimpses of what the two of you could have been like, if only the stars had aligned differently, or you had chosen another path.

sunoo said he didn’t want you to hurt, yet not being able to text him has only tripled your pain.

maybe you were being silly. shaking your head, you pull out your phone and opening the forsaken messaging app.

y/n

hey,, are you busy rn? i need to talk with you

in a matter of moments, your phone pings with multiple texts sent in quick succession.

jay

no, what’s up? everything okay?? are you okay?? are you hurt?? do i need to fly over there??? hello?????

you let out a soft laugh and roll your eyes fondly. leave it to park jongseong to worry the minute you’re away from home.

y/n

I’M RIGHT HERE calm down i’m okay kinda stay where you are lmao it’s not that deep

jay

you sure? because that “i need to talk with you” doesn’t feel very reassuring

y/n

well,, it’s just i miss sunoo :(

jay

,,,,, you you texted me because you’re still simping over him? Y/N JUST TEXT HIM I STG

y/n

well,, that’s the problem

jay

…wdym?

y/n

before i left,,, sunoo asked me to drop contact with him,, so we wouldn’t hurt over the whole “what if i stayed”

jay

he what.

y/n

and i agreed to it,,

jay

you WHAT. Y/N WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT

y/n

because i didn’t want to hurt him :(( and he thinks that keeping up with each other would put us in a weird place and i get what he means so,,

jay

y/n,,,

y/n

I CAN FEEL YOUR JUDGMENT FROM HERE STOP SHAKING YOUR HEAD AT ME >:(

jay

BECAUSE YOU TWO ARE SO,, HOW HOW DO YOU KEEP-

y/n

i just want him to be happy :( and i’m okay if that’s with other people!! but it’s not like that at least not right now he just,, doesn’t want us to talk anymore and it hasn’t stopped hurting jay it really hurts i don’t know what to do

jay

oh,, y/n,,,

y/n

what do i do :((

jay

well,, we could always yell at him for you

y/n

nO don’t do that >:(

jay

i’m kidding,,, mostly

y/n

i’m serious pls don’t don’t hurt him just,, help me stop hurting?

jay

i won’t i promise yknow just because he asked you to doesn’t mean he’s right staying on friendly terms while you’re away could work out for you two no matter how much ridiculous pining you’ll do but that feels like a given no matter how much or how little you talk to each other i’m not saying you have to do anything but,, just think about that, yeah?

y/n

i will,, i’m just i’m scared of what’ll happen to us if i break our promise

jay

it’s okay y/n you have time besides,, you’ll be home again over the break so i’m sure we can think of a plan by then

y/n

thanks jay <3 wHAT what’s that supposed to mean !!

jay

y/n please you really think the rest of us are going to give up on the two of you before you’ve even had a real chance?

y/n

i- are you serious

jay

you know you love us for it

y/n

yeah,, i do i even miss sunghoon’s stupid schemes don’t tell him i said that

jay

i won’t but only because it’ll make him rope us into more shit and anytime <3 i’ve always got your back you wanna watch a movie?

y/n

,,,howl’s moving castle?

jay

for you,, sure

y/n

you’re the best <3

you settle into bed as jay sets up the stream for the movie. ghibli movies have never failed to comfort you, and tonight is no different, even if you’ve seen it plenty of times already. jay wishes you good night while the credits roll, and you close your laptop, staring blankly at the wall.

what are you and sunoo now anyways? friends with feelings who didn’t talk to each other? you groan, throwing your head back and wondering how the hell you ended up in this situation. should you reach out to him?

you’re not sure what the answer to that one is. what would even come from that? you’re both well aware of each other’s feelings. you know those feelings are why you agreed to stop contacting each other. but… those feelings are also why it’s hurting you to not talk to him. even as friends, not romantically.

and then there’s the question of why you ended it all together. what if you could’ve made long distance work? would it have hurt any less than this mess does now?

maybe… maybe the two of you are worth the effort.

you shake your head, pulling the blankets over yourself as you get ready for bed. that’s a question for another time.

for now, you drift off to sleep, wondering if sunoo misses you as much as you miss him.

taglist [open!]: @linoragi

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #sunoo x reader #kim sunoo x reader #sunoo imagines #sunoo scenarios #e.writes

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rising-ashes · 3 years

Text

release me; embrace me

pairing: kim sunoo x gender neutral reader genre: angst word count: 1k warnings: mild swearing note: university au, inspired by for me, connected to this piece, but could be read as a standalone.

sunoo stares at the envelope in his hands, fiddling with the edges of it as he absent-mindedly sips at his drink. he’d stopped by the cafe the two of you frequented on the way to his apartment. it didn’t feel the same walking in without your hand clasped in his. he had looked at their pastries too, nearly turning to you to point out the cute cat-shaped ones before he remembered.

god, it’s barely even been a few hours, and it already hurts like hell.

but he knows it would only hurt more if he hadn’t asked you to end contact with him.

this is for the best, he reminds himself.

he could hardly contain his jealousy when jeongin was around, and that was when you were still here. does he want to know you’re doing well? yes. does he want to call you to tell you about the prank riki pulled on the way home? absolutely. does he want to hear you ramble about your new city and watch you scrunch your nose as you get through your coursework? with his whole heart.

but sunoo doesn’t think he can handle the inevitable crushing pain of watching you fall in love with someone else from afar. you’re in a new university with plenty of people to meet; surely there’ll be someone who catches your eye, and he won’t be the one to hold you back from your happiness.

so, here he is, sitting on his bed, knowing today was the last time he’ll hear from you, the beloved. because if there’s anything he knows about you, it’s that you’re true to your word. he’s witnessed you pull through, time and time again for the boys, no matter how much of a pain they can be at times.

he almost doesn’t want to open the letter in his hands. whatever is in here are your last words to him; removing the cute peach sticker you’d use to close the envelope seals in the finality of it all.

but he made a promise to you.

do it for them, he thinks. they went through the effort of writing it, after all.

he gingerly removes the sticker and places it on the back of his phone case. slowly, he unfolds the stationery note, smiling at the paper you picked out — a mint green shade with light dots of brown interspersed. he remembers the day you bought it with crystal clear clarity. the two of you had been shopping that day, and you were deciding between a few sets when he planted his head on your shoulder from behind and pointed to it. “this one’s pretty,” he mumbled. “it reminds me of mint choco!” you let out a soft laugh and pressed a kiss to his temple. “this one it is, then.”

with a deep breath, sunoo starts reading the letter, and within moments, his vision becomes blurry, tears lightly staining the paper.

kim sunoo, my beloved, i wish we could have us. i wish we had more time together. i wish it didn’t come to you or my dream university. i guess we can’t have it all, right? thank you, for thinking of me. for wanting me to achieve my dreams. it would’ve been harder if you hadn’t encouraged me to do this, i think. i’m still tempted to stay even as i write this. i know it wasn’t easy for you to do that. i also know i’ll have regrets if i don’t tell you these things, but you asked for no more contact after i leave. so, i’m giving you this. please keep it? remember that i love you, okay? i’m never going to have enough words to express how much i love you, so this is a fraction of it. i love your smile. you brighten the room whenever you enter, sunshine. i love your voice and your laugh. i’ll miss hearing you sing before i sleep. i love the sparkle in your eyes when you get excited. i love the feeling of your hand in mine when you walk me home. i love it when you play with my hair. i love doing skincare with you, even when you smear products against my cheeks out of nowhere. maybe even especially then. i could go on and on, really. but it’ll never be enough, because every day i fall a little bit more in love with you. i’m going to miss your good mornings and good nights, your spontaneous dates in the middle of the night when it’s just us, the way you wrap your arm around me. i’m going to miss you so goddamn much, sunoo. hell, i already miss you and i haven’t even left yet. if this really is the last time we ever talk, i want you to know i’m thinking of you. i wish you all the best, i promise. remember to take care of yourself, okay? with love, y/n <3

a choked sob escapes sunoo’s throat as he curls up on his bed, holding the fox plushie you won him on an arcade date close to his chest. his heart aches at the thought of all the memories you could have made together if he hadn’t asked for this.

but this is for the best, isn’t it?

people always say that long distance never works out. you both become busy and eventually, it bubbles up and you end up mad at each other and never speak again. so it’s better to end it now on good terms, right?

as long as you’re happy, he’ll be okay. it’s better to end it now than to leave you torn up between the distance and the new people you meet and missed calls and angry text messages to wake up to.

he can ignore the lump in his throat for your sake. even if it’ll hurt to hear you’ve found someone else, he can handle that. the effort it takes to suppress the urge to text you now is… a lot, admittedly. that’s a habit he’s going to have to break.

but it’s okay.

as long as you’re happy, it’s all worth it.

taglist [open!]: @linoragi

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #sunoo imagines #sunoo scenarios #sunoo x reader #kim sunoo x reader #e.writes

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rising-ashes · 3 years

Text

but i go now; i follow my dreams

pairing: kim sunoo x gender neutral reader genre: angst word count: 1.2k warnings: none? note: hi,, this is my first time writing anything like this!! this is inspired by @linoragi‘s social media au for me, specifically the alt. ending. definitely go check it out if you haven’t! if you're reading this and you (somehow) aren't familiar with it,, y/n and sunoo have basically been pining after each other for a while and were together for some period of time. university au. (also,, robi if you're reading this,, hi i'm sorry this is so angsty asjlkdjfskj) um,, yeah,,

for being a single piece of paper, the letter in your hands feels incredibly heavy. in a matter of hours, you’ll be on a plane to transfer to your dream university, yet all you can think of is how cruel this is.

how it breaks your heart to know you’ll be leaving the people you love most to chase after your dreams.

especially sunoo.

after all you’ve been through, the pining, the chasing, the hundreds of tweets you’ve posted simping for each other, followed by dates with interlaced fingers and bright smiles, this is it.

you’re leaving the country, your family, your friends, your not-quite-boyfriend.

shaking your head, you tuck the letter back into its envelope and place it on the table for the morning.

as you flick your lamp light off, your phone buzzes.

sunoo

y/n?

y/n

yes, sunny?

sunoo

get some rest, love.

you let out a soft sigh — he really does know you too well. sunoo’s lulled you to sleep with his voice plenty of times to know how your mind races at strange hours of the night.

y/n

i will, promise <3

sunoo

okay <3 love you,, we’ll be there in the morning to pick you up, okay?

y/n

okay <3 ,,,you should sleep too, then

sunoo

i will,,, sweet dreams <3

y/n

you too <3

clicking your phone off, you fall into a semi-peaceful slumber. a few hours later, you groan as the sun rises, dragging yourself out of bed. you nibble on some bread as you shuffle around your apartment, making sure you’ve packed everything for the school year.

notebooks, check. chargers, check. clothes, check. the letter, check.

jay calls you, letting you know he’s outside. you do one last sweep around your place before gathering your luggage and heading outside. your heart beats faster as you pack your bags into the trunk and slide into the passenger seat.

this is really happening.

you turn around to greet the other six boys in the car, eyes lingering on one in particular. they all say hello… except for sunoo. he simply smiles and nods at you before staring out the window, avoiding your eyes.

ouch.

other than the thrum of the car, the drive to the airport is silent. sunghoon tries to lighten the mood, asking if you’ll still help him with his coursework, but you can only respond with a half-hearted you wish as the knot in your stomach tightens. no matter how hard you try, you can’t shake off the uneasiness; why was there so much tension? you knew the answer to that, of course. no matter how many times you had tried to catch his eye, sunoo refused to look your way, instead choosing to fiddle with his hoodie strings.

once you pull into the parking lot, your friends all exit the car to send you off, wrapping you into tight hugs.

“you’re sure you’ve got everything, y/n?” jay asks. “phone? wallet? textbooks?”

you let out a laugh and nod. “for the seventh time, yes, I made sure I brought everything. how many times are you going to ask?”

he rolls his eyes affectionately and reaches over to ruffle your hair. “just making sure. you remember what happened on family vacation a few years ago, don’t you?”

“that was once! let it go already,” you groan, but there’s no stopping the smile on your face.

“never going to happen,” he smirks. “text us before you take off and when you land, okay?”

“I know, I will.”

you look at your friends with teary eyes. “sunoo?”

he steps towards you, and the others step away, giving you some semblance of privacy.

“hi,” you whisper.

“hi,” he murmurs back.

“so... this is us, right?”

he nods. “this is us.”

you look down at your shoes, not quite knowing what to say. “I...”

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“I... you know. remember that, okay?”

“I could never forget,” you reassure. “...I you know, too.”

it’s not the same as really saying it. but somehow, no matter how many times you’ve told him you love him before, you can’t say it now, as if uttering it out loud now would be ending everything. as if it’d be closing the door on your relationship. the words stick to your throat as he pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

after a long moment, you pull back, holding his hands in yours. “I should get going,” you mutter.

“make us proud, y/n. just, remember our deal, okay?”

your heart aches as you nod, recalling the way sunoo’s eyes watered at the end of your date last night. the two of you were resting on your bed, your head on his chest as he played with your hair. as the sun started to set, he asked a favor of you. “y/n? can you do something for me?”

“of course, sunny. what is it?”

“after you’re settled in and everything…don’t contact me anymore.”

you shifted to sit up, staring at him in disbelief. “what?”

“it’s not that I don’t want to hear from you, love, I do. but I don’t want either of us hurting over what could’ve been if you’d stayed here. you’re doing this for you, remember? don’t lose sight of that.”

you could only nod and let out a quiet “okay” as it sunk in. “right. one last thing?”

he tilts his head and gestures for you to go on. you take the envelope out of your backpack and press it into his hands. “read this when you get back to your place, okay? and keep it, please.”

he stares at your outstretched hand, eyes wide. “y/n…”

“please?”

“I… I will.” he takes the letter, his fingers gently grazing against yours, sending sparks down your spine all over again.

“thank you.” you lift his hand to your lips and press a kiss to his knuckles one last time.

after taking one last group photo with everyone, you take a deep breath and walk into the airport. it’s cold inside, so you rummage around in your backpack for the hoodie you brought.

one of sunoo’s old ones, in fact. you had tried to return it to him, but he insisted you keep it. you can still hear him saying, “no really, it looks better on you, anyways,” and it hurts, tugging at your heart. pulling it over your head brings the scent of his cologne and an odd sense of comfort, as if he was by your side.

don’t be silly, you scold yourself mentally. there’s no use in lingering on it — you mutually decided this is what was best.

you make your way through security and grab a bite to eat before sitting down by the gate. eventually, they call for your flight to board, and you find yourself sitting in the window seat, alone.

you text the group to let them know you’re taking off soon. thankfully, you’re able to close your eyes and rest for a majority of the flight, and your new apartment is cozy enough. you settle in and order food from a nearby korean restaurant. it’s not the same, but it reminds you of a home, at least.

sunoo loves gimbap, after all, and that’s what you decided would pair perfectly with your emotions right now.

later, you video call jay, showing him around your place a little. your heart pangs as you can hear sunoo laughing with jungwon in the background.

but at least he’s happy, right?

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #sunoo x reader #kim sunoo x reader #sunoo imagines #sunoo scenarios #e.writes #let me know if you want more? i guess?

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