velvett-tearss

[velvett-tearss]

my brother's best friend

pair. miya osamu x gn!reader

content: fluff, attempts at humour, miya atsumu is a little shit, first loves, mutual pining

synopsis. miya osamu takes pride in the fact that he’s the smarter of the twins. he, in fact, is not (especially when it comes to you).

wc. 3.1k

a/n: om nom nom nom nom brother's best friend trope nom nom nom... ok i have to come clean about this fic i literally wrote the first draft for this in 2021 on WATTPAD and it's been sitting dormant forever up until recently. enjoy 🫶

‎oh my god, how did i end up here?

it’s the only thought repeating over and over again in osamu’s head as he sits there staring at you. you’re too preoccupied with the menu in your hands to notice his unwavering gaze, scanning through it and muttering to yourself indecisively about what to order.

of course, the question of how he ended up here on a date with you could be summarized in one simple sentence:

miya atsumu is the world’s biggest idiot.

if kita or aran were here they would surely be poking fun at him right now, lecturing him about how his dna is a perfect carbon copy of atsumu’s. and while they would be right, osamu is convinced his brother has at least 70% less brain cell capacity.

the thought makes him feel a little smug. (he’s in the class under atsumu.)

you were friends. at least as far as how often you saw each other, he considered you good friends. maybe. not that he knew all that much about you other than the fact that you were constantly... around. if he didn’t know that atsumu was the biggest knucklehead on planet earth, he would have assumed you were dating. but he knew his brother was too invested in volleyball to be seeing anyone seriously, and you didn’t didn’t seem like the type to mess around with guys like him anyways.

you were way too level-headed for that despite the raunchy, head-turning jokes you liked to tell, which honestly might be the reason why atsumu keeps you around.

whenever you came to their house, you would stick to lounging in atsumu’s room or the living room. you typically avoided disturbing osamu and the rest of their family — not like they minded having you around. no, in fact, their mother had a strange soft spot for you. you were quiet and well mannered, until it was just the three of you and suddenly an onslaught of fierce attacks on poor atsumu would commence.

for the majority of your friendship, you have stayed out of his way and he stays out of yours. you only talk to each other when deemed necessary, like when walking home from school or when you shyly greet him at the door because atsumu is on the toilet. he does, however, rejoice in the fact that there is another person on the atsumu hate train, and appreciates that you’re at least colourful with your insults. it’s impressive, really.

(he would never admit it. never. never ever. but it warms his heart a little that there’s someone out there just like him, expressing their love for miya atsumu in less conventional ways.)

you were quick witted and funny. a free source of entertainment when he would grow bored of his brother’s shenanigans. and it was a two way street, because when you needed a break from atsumu, osamu was always right there. 

you were noticeably gentler with the younger of the miya twins: asking him how school was, and if he needed help with his chemistry homework, and what he had for lunch. menial little things, but sometimes he found himself thinking that it was the highlight of his day.

otherwise, your presence in his life is, as osamu considers it, indifferent.

sure, he likes to look at you. and sometimes, maybe, he wishes you and atsumu would invite him around more often. it also doesn’t help his heart when you’re so nice to him, like when you’re all having dinner together and you pretend you don’t want the last dumpling on your plate and shovel it onto his. he likes that. or when you invite yourself into their freezer for ice cream, you always make sure to grab an extra one for him. there have been multiple occasions in which you’ve wordlessly slid him your notes to copy, too.

you were good at that; knowing what others wanted and being more selfless than the average person. you’re a people pleaser, and though he and atsumu used to make fun of your type when they were kids, your charm is undeniable.

unfortunately, actually making any sort of move on you is out of the question. not only would it potentially complicate things between you and him, it would also risk putting a strain on your friendship with atsumu. making his brother’s life a living hell is what miya osamu was born into this world to do, but for some reason his stomach turns at the thought of ruining your friendship.

you were just atsumu’s cute best friend. nothing less, nothing more. and he would very much like to beat the “i fell in love with my brother’s best friend” allegations, thank you.

he realizes he’s still looking at you intently with his arms crossed over his chest. he watches as your nose scrunches a little in thought, trying to decide between their two best sellers. he sighs in relief when you get up to order for yourself, tucking a stray hair under his cap before going back to sulking with his thoughts.

atsumu had a lot of bad ideas. so many that if they sat down and listed them all out they might be there for a couple days. but this? this is his worst one yet. and how osamu managed to get roped (bribed) into this, he will never know. but here he is, and here you are, and here atsumu is not.

he really should get better at saying no to atsumu.

(“c’mon, ‘samu! please? for me?!”

“what the hell? no. that’s a shitty thing to do. just tell them ya can’t go.”

“but it’s their birthday! they were lookin’ forward to this. they’ll hate me forever if i bailed!”

“and? why would i help you? ‘specially with somethin’ so stupid. it’s your fault you didn’t plan better.”

“don’t be like that, y’know it was a last minute thing!”

a beat of silence.

“pretty please? it’s their birthday… you guys are friends too, right?”

osamu can’t believe he’s entertaining this stupid idea for even a second. you’re not an idiot. you’d know it’s him with a single glance.

“this is an all time low, even for you. they’ll notice it’s me right away. are ya crazy, ‘tsumu? hit your head or somethin’?”

“it’s just this one time! i’ll never ask ya for anythin’ ever again. never ever ever ever, i swear it.”

“...’tsumu…”

“don’t sound so tired with me! do this for your big brother. have i mentioned it’s their birthday?”

big brother? osamu scoffs loudly.

“you actually mentioned it three times. and yer only a couple minutes older than me. but... fine.”

“don’t be such a jacka- wait, what?”

“i said fine. but you owe me lunch for the next two weeks.”

“deal!”

“... are ya sure they won’t know it’s me? i mean, i really think you should reconsider-”

“oh shut up, ‘samu, we’re identical!”

“just know that i won’t hesitate to throw ya under the bus if shit hits the fan.”)

what a terrible plan. pretending to be atsumu was proving to be harder than he initially anticipated. he would have thought that spending every agonizing, waking, living hour with his brother would have trained him well enough, but atsumu is so no-chill that it’s somehow making this already horrible idea even worse with every passing second.

surprisingly, you haven’t said anything. you haven’t acknowledged the massive elephant in the room. this could only mean one of three things:

1. you’ve noticed, but you’re desperately trying to spare atsumu’s feelings and osamu’s embarrassment by not bringing it up.

2. you’re dumber than he thought. dumber than a rock, actually, if you didn’t take one look at osamu and know it was him.

3. you are a cruel, wicked, evil, deranged human being who finds osamu’s situation entirely hilarious and wants this to go on for as long as possible.

judging by your casual banter, he’s willing to bet it’s either option one or two. you’re twirling a lanyard around your finger when you finally return with your drink of choice in tow. next destination: the local aquarium. atsumu put a surprising amount of effort into planning the day.

it’s a shame he hadn’t accounted for planning himself into it.

‎he shouldn’t have agreed to come here.

spending time alone with you like this was bound to stir up feelings he’d long ago buried in the hollows of his heart. of the miya twins, osamu was always better at keeping his emotions under wraps. there were rare occasions in which he lost his cool, in which he was actually somehow worse than atsumu, but in general he was as level-headed as you were.

you’re ruining him and his plans to never acknowledge his feelings for you.

it’s unfair, really, how his heart seemingly gets lodged in his throat when you cling to his arm so tightly, laughing and pointing out all the funny-looking fish. and when you point at something called a vampire squid, raving about how long it took you to find one in animal crossing, he nearly crumbles to his knees and puts his head in his hands.

(in other words, he’s totally whipped. he’s not beating those allegations.)

osamu thought he could get used to looking at anyone’s face. he always found people boring — he grew up being the other half of his brother, after all. the miya twins are many things, but boring is not one of them, and to entertain them you have to be someone with a special brand of humour.

but now, as he looks at you with the soft blue glow from the tank shining against your face, he can’t help the thought that crosses his mind:

i could never get tired of this.

“... hailing from the depths of tropical and subtropical waters, the vampire squid feeds on marine snow.”

he blinks back into reality, eyes drifting from you to the sea creature you’re admiring, then back to you. “marine snow? sounds gross.”

“it’s the debris that falls to the lower levels of the ocean. lots of deep sea creatures feed that way since it saves them the energy of needing to go hunt.”

osamu seems skeptical. “they really just eat anythin’ like that?”

your head turns to look at him. there’s a little smile playing on your face, like you seem amused by what he just said. “sounds like someone i know.”

he makes a strange expression in response. were you talking about him? did you often bring him up when you were alone with atsumu? the soft and fond look in your eyes doesn’t help his racing heart. the idea that you and atsumu talk about him in private so sweetly makes his face burn slightly in embarrassment.

he shakes his head to get the thought out of his brain before stuffing his hands into his pockets.

your arm finds his again, locking together. it’s an oddly intimate action, even if you think he really is atsumu. he doesn’t know you to be the most touchy person on earth, though he supposes he can’t see what you’re like behind the closed doors of his brother’s bedroom. his blood boils for some reason.

you stop at the next tank, the one situated in the centre of the room filled high with kelp and schools of tiny fish. you’re looking at them with wide eyes, light shimmering in them. he could cry right now. you look like an angel bathed in the shadows of dancing fish as your gaze carefully follows a school circling around the top of the aquarium.

there’s a feeling swimming inside of him, unfamiliar and oh so dreadful. he can feel it in raging in every part of him — in his heart, in the fiery pits of his stomach, in his throat — and he knows exactly which word comes to mind.

miya osamu may be in the lowest class in his year, and he might share a single brain cell with his brother, but he’s read enough books to describe this feeling. he’s listened to enough love songs to know this ache in him.

if you asked him ten years from now, he’d tell you exactly the same thing as he would right now; that your first love is always petrifying.

“pretty, aren’t they?”

“yeah. real pretty.”

but he hasn’t looked at them even once. how could he when there’s a living, breathing angel standing next to him?

‎osamu delivers you to your doorstep that night.

it feels like a dream, the whole day and having the privilege of holding your hand and feeling your body against his.

maybe it was just the greedy monster in him speaking. the laws of the universe dictate that if it’s you and osamu, atsumu needs to be there, too. the miya twins have always come in a package. a duo. there is no just atsumu or just osamu, at least there wasn’t until you came along.

suddenly it was you and atsumu. it was atsumu and osamu, and you. but there was never just you and osamu. it didn’t work that way.

well, screw the universe and its laws. osamu never believed in that astrology shit anyways.

he’s fully prepared to keep this day an untarnished memory — something to cherish when life goes back to normal and he’s unable to stand shoulder to shoulder like this with you again.

when you lean in to kiss him, there is only one thought repeating in his mind like a mantra:

it’s just once. just one day. one last perfect memory.

you’re so close that he can feel your breath filling his lungs. his heart hammers where it rests in his chest, so loud that he can hear it thundering in his ears. it’s then that he realizes this is wrong. all of it is wrong.

he recoils back with lightning speed, and his heart aches at the sight of your disappointed and puzzled expression. but it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to atsumu either.

he cares about both of you too much to be selfish right now.

how could he possibly risk hurting two of the people he cared most about in the world? he couldn’t be that self-centred, to be able to steal a kiss from you just to keep his memories of this day perfect.

perfect doesn’t exist if none of it is real.

“i’m not… i’m not who you think i am.”

he slides the hat off his head with shame burning in his cheeks, avoiding your eyes like a child who got caught with his hand in a cookie jar. it was time for him to be honest, both with you and himself.

“look, yer really cool. and i– crap, it’s complicated, ‘kay? i might like you. like– like you, like you. i wasn’t thinkin’ straight. 'm really sorry, i know it was wrong to string you along, i was just havin’ so much fun today that–”

his mouth suddenly comes to a halt as you reach forward and capture his cheeks between your fingers, squishing them together so he’ll stop rambling.

you look at him with a confused but amused smile. “um, ‘samu? i like you, too.”

“what?” he sputters out as much as he can with his face still held in place. his brows furrow, but all rational thoughts have stopped flowing in his mind. he’s staring at you like a flabbergasted idiot, so you continue.

“why else would i agree to go on a date with you on my birthday?”

“but– i– huh?”

your head tilts. “this was a date, wasn’t it?”

it dawns on him then. it had never occurred to osamu that there was another explanation for your strange lack of acknowledgment that he is painfully easy to see through:

4. you like him and simply thought this was a date. you like him as much as he likes you, which is a stupid amount. after all, he likes you enough to go through with an infinite number of atsumu’s terrible ideas just to make you happy.

of course you weren’t that dense. of course he was found out the second you laid eyes on him. of course he had misread the entire situation because he was blinded by his brother’s boisterous claims that they were indistinguishable.

“this is ridiculous. i can’t believe you–… atsumu somehow always pulls through even when he doesn’t mean to.”

“what do you mean?”

“whadd’ya mean, what do i mean?”

“about atsumu?”

“oh, he was freakin’ out about missin’ today and wanted me to go through this whole thing pretendin' i’m him so ya wouldn’t be mad at him.”

“but he already told me he couldn’t make it today? you really didn’t have to do… all this,” you gesture to his whole body with a flick of your wrist.

at your words osamu finally crumbles to his knees in pure agony. he looks up to the sky, to whatever god has forsaken him by making atsumu his other half, and sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. he can just imagine the shit-eating grin his brother has right now.

“i’m…” he pauses, carefully selecting his next words, “going to smother him with a pillow.”

you blink at him for a moment before all the pieces fall into place.

all the times you’d gushed to atsumu about your massive crush on his twin and the way he’d complain to no end about neither of you making a move, forcing him to watch on with mild disgust as his best friend and brother made goo goo eyes at each other. all the times he would “forget” his shoes at the gym and need to run back to grab them, pushing you into small talk with osamu. all the times he would suffer through your teasing just to see the two of you walking side-by-side sharing proud little smiles.

atsumu’s resume looks something like this: world’s biggest idiot, volleyball player, third-wheel, and tired wingman.

you’ll have to thank him later.

“no wonder you’ve been acting so weird all day! i thought you were just one of those guys who gets nervous on first dates!” accompanied by this statement is a laugh that makes osamu weak.

he grumbles. “what’s so funny?”

“say what you want, but you’re as dumb as ‘tsumu.”

“no… please… don’t compare me to that nitwit… i might have a heart attack at this rate.”

you snicker quietly as you help osamu back onto his feet, eyes shimmering with joy as you let his confession sink in.

“you’re right, he is an idiot.”

“dumbass.”

“moron.”

“he’s gonna hate us even more from now on,” osamu smiles uncontrollably, inching closer to you again.

“yeah?” your lips brush against his daringly, “i can live with that.”

EXTRA:

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

🏷️ @hyomagiri (im dead like actually dead)

[velvett-tearss]

A/N: Merry Christmas to all who celebrate, and a special Merry Christmas to my boo @gyuminusone. This is my Christmas gift to you!! I hope you have the best holiday, M! Sending love across the country!!!

Parties and Pickup Lines

Pairing: Mingyu x Reader Genre: friends to lovers Rating: PG (because of the swearing.. i think that's the only reason? also alcohol consumption) Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: kissing, alcohol consumption, reader & squad celebrate Christmas somewhat traditionally (Westernized)? Um... there's a kiss and some swearing also

“Mingyu.” You drag out the last syllable of his name, aggressively dropping your head against his arm as he continues to carry on conversation with Joshua, your host for the evening. He had hosted a dinner party that, in true Joshua Hong fashion, was full of expensive and foreign wines. It was great, but now you’re sufficiently tipsy, tired, and ready to go home, and Mingyu and Joshua just won’t shut up. 

“Are you giving her a ride?” Joshua nods in your direction and you narrow your eyes at him from your place against Mingyu’s side. All he does is smile back.

“Yeah,” Mingyu responds with a dramatic sigh, and you can feel him shift as he turns to look down at you. You want to lift your head to glare up at him, but you’re tired. 

“Of course you are,” Joshua quips. “Don’t know why I even asked.” He’s teasing, and you can’t see Mingyu’s reaction, but you imagine he uses his free hand to flip the other man off. 

You’re used to it — the way everyone teases you and Mingyu. Sure, you’re a little bit in love with him, but isn’t everyone? Sure, you’re always together, and you take care of each other, and sure, every time he looks at you, or smiles at you, or laughs because of you, you feel yourself falling just that little bit more. Sure, the two of you might be on the edge of something more than friends, but you don’t know what, and you don’t know how to get there. 

All you know is that right now, you want to go home.

Mingyu finally stands up from the couch, pulling you with him while bidding farewell to an amused Joshua. As he tugs you by the hand through the apartment towards the door, he calls out goodbyes to everyone you pass. You somehow manage a few hugs and waves yourself before you reach the exit, where Mingyu hands you your coat, and then you’re finally out in the fresh air.

“Our Uber is two minutes away,” he informs you. 

You nod and regretfully let go of his hand, pulling your gloves from your coat pocket and squinting down at your fingers as you clumsily put them on. You can feel him watching you as you wait, and you meet his eyes. The corner of his mouth turns up when you catch him looking, and you can’t help but stick your tongue out at him.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you manage — quite smoothly if you do say so yourself — but all he does is smile bigger.

“I have lots of those.”

You gasp. “Blackmail is a crime.”

He ignores you and looks away, eyes scanning the road for your ride as he says, “It’s not my fault that you’re so nice to take pictures of.”

You stare at him, and even in your tipsy state, you feel it again — the overwhelming affection that blooms in your chest. You want to push him on it, you want to know, but for the millionth time, you can’t seem to get the words out. So you say nothing as your Uber arrives and drives the two of you back to your place.

Your apartment is basically Mingyu’s second home, and the same goes for you with his. “It’s just easier, convenient to know someone on the other side of town when you need to crash,” is the excuse you tend to use the most. You never say that it has a lot more to do with the way he looks in your kitchen in the morning as he makes your coffee, or the way he always makes you take his bed while he sleeps on the couch, or the way he knows exactly where you keep the popcorn for movie nights.

He knows where you keep everything else, too — makeup remover included.

“I personally don’t care if you take your makeup off or not,” Mingyu points out from his spot by your bathroom door, “but you are going to care in the morning, and I am going to be on the receiving end of your wrath if I don’t make you do it now.”

“Well then, help me,” you say, and it comes out as a whine. You’re too tired to care, and you say as much. You miss the way Mingyu’s entire being softens when you pout dejectedly, exhausted, and lean back against the mirror from where you sit on the counter. He lets out a dramatic sigh, but you know you’ve won when he moves to stand in front of you.

“Sit up,” he instructs, reaching over your shoulder to open the cupboard above the mirror as you do what he says. He’s careful not to hit your head with the door as he takes out your makeup wipes, doting as always. You watch as he opens the package while you sit there waiting, eyes intent on him and his movements. You try to stay still as he lifts a hand to your face, holding your breath as he gently begins to clean your makeup off. His free hand lifts to your chin to steady you after a moment, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You wish you could blame the alcohol for the intense desire you feel to just… kiss him, but it’s not the first time, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. 

You realize it again, then, as you watch him — that your feelings for him run so irrevocably deep. 

You don’t know how long it takes as he stands between your legs, thoroughly cleansing your face with gentle motions. Once or twice, he catches you staring; the first time, he teases you, and the second, he pulls a face that’s meant to make you laugh (it works). When he announces that he’s done, adding on something about how grateful you should be for his hard work as he leans down to find your trash can, you can’t help it.

Your hands have a mind of their own. As soon as he straightens from throwing the cloth into the trash, they gently find his face, and he stills. He doesn’t pull away. He just waits, eyes wide and imploring, and you let his silence spur you on. You don’t say anything as you begin to map his features out with your fingertips, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire time. The high of his cheekbones, the beauty mark on the very edge of his nose; his mouth, lips softly parting as you brush over them, barely noticing the breath he’s holding as you do.

“You are so beautiful,” is what finally breaks the silence. “I think about you and how beautiful you are all the time.” It’s you that says it, and it takes you a second to register that you said it out loud. You vaguely register an alarm going off in your brain, a loud fuck! Fuck! Fuck! in quick succession, but you don’t take it back, because it’s true.

Mingyu blinks, staring back at you for a few moments before he finally looks away. 

“Thank you,” he says as he grasps onto your wrists to pull your hands away from his face. “And you’re drunk.”

“Both of these things can be true,” you quip, and he lets out a laugh at that. 

“Come on, brush your teeth. I’m not doing that part for you.”

A week passes, and you’re not avoiding Mingyu, per se, but you’re not not avoiding him, either. 

The morning after your slip-up, when you wake up sober and embarrassed, you think maybe you’ve fucked up your friendship for good. You get a text from him, explaining that he’d gone to the gym and that he’d text you later, and all seems relatively normal — everything except for the fact that you’d blatantly ogled him and called him beautiful to his face the night before. He doesn’t say anything else about it. 

Throughout the week, his texts seem to be coming in slower and fewer, though you imagine that might have something to do with the short and accidentally-on-purpose delayed responses from you. He hasn’t asked, and you’re grateful. Thankfully, your work had actually been a welcome distraction in the daytime since you were rapidly approaching a deadline. You had only needed to fill your evenings so that you weren’t thinking about him. Today is Friday though, and that means another work week is over — and another holiday festivity is waiting for you at Seokmin’s. 

Unfortunately, your feelings for one of your closest friends are waiting for you there, too. 

You don’t know if it’s better or worse that Mingyu is already a few drinks deep when you arrive.

He greets you at the door as if the place is his own, ushering you in before pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug. You sink into him, eyes squeezing shut briefly before he pulls away, eyes bright as he holds you by the biceps.

“Hi!” He beams. “I missed you.”

That thing in your chest shifts and jumps around as he smiles at you. You are my favourite person in the entire world, you think. And I have no idea what to do about it. 

“I missed you, too.”

You had wondered if Mingyu would notice the space you’d taken from him over the week, the space you’d needed to try and gather your feelings, but if he had, he doesn’t show it. He’s just Mingyu, who stays close to you the whole night while remaining the life of the party. Tonight, he doesn’t comment when you don’t return his physical touches or flirtations. You wonder if it’s because of the alcohol or just how excited he is at the idea of Christmas being so close — because Mingyu usually notices everything, especially when it comes to you.

You finally get a reprieve when he’s called into the kitchen to help clean up a spill, and you let out a sigh as you sink further into the couch cushions. You would never have the heart to ask him for the space you need, not when you know how affectionate he always is, but at least you can breathe a little right now. He hasn’t said a word all night about last weekend, and you’re not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. 

“Gyu said you had a busy week. You okay?”

You’re startled when Seokmin plops down next to you. 

“Yeah,” you affirm, smiling tiredly over at your friend. “But the project is finally over now.”

“Congrats!” Seokmin lifts his glass in a toast, and you lift your wine glass to clink it with his. His eyebrows furrow as he eyes your drink. “Isn’t that the exact same amount of wine you had an hour ago?”

“No.”

You’ve never been a good liar. 

“What’s up? You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want it, obviously. No sober shame here.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, thanks, Seok. I know.”

He continues to look at you, and you wish this was one of those times that Seokmin decided to let something go, but you’re not so lucky. Curse him for loving his people so much. 

“You sure everything’s okay?”

You get distracted when your eyes catch a glimpse of Mingyu as he pops his head out of the kitchen to call for Seungcheol, and they linger on the doorframe long after he’s gone. 

“Ah.”

“Hm?” You turn back to Seokmin, cheeks flushing at being caught.

Instead of teasing like you’d expected, Seokmin’s smile is gentle. “You should tell him.”

You almost drop your wine. “Seokmin—“

You don’t get a chance to say anything else because Mingyu reappears over the back of the couch, his arms lazily hanging around Seokmin’s shoulders as he rests his cheek on the other boy’s head. 

“Can we go home? I’m tired,” he pouts.

You don’t hesitate for a second.

You stand up with a nod, all wariness from the moment in your bathroom last weekend flying out the window as you take his hand. Because this is what the two of you do. He takes care of you, and you take care of him. No questions asked.

“Bye, Seok,” you offer, and he sends you another smile as he lifts his glass. “Thanks for hosting.” He glances between the two of you, at your joined hands, and you shrug with a sad smile before turning to leave.

The walk to Mingyu’s from Seokmin’s isn’t very long. It’s cold, but you’ll manage. You feel warm all over from the way he refuses to let go of your hand, anyway.

“I love Christmas.”

You smile over at Mingyu, who’s been fairly quiet since you left Seokmin’s apartment. 

“I know.” You squeeze the hand he has attached to yours, and he smiles back. You ignore the ache in your chest at the sight of it.

It’s quiet for another few minutes as you walk slowly down the sidewalk before he speaks again, pulling you to a stop and catching you entirely off guard with his words.

“What does Santa say to Mrs. Claus when she dresses up nice?”

You hold back a laugh. “What does he say, Gyu? Tell me.”

He giggles, and then with a wiggle of his eyebrows, he leans in close and he says, “‘Ho ho ho-ly shit, you look good’.”

“Incredible. Great joke.” You tug on his hand, hoping he’ll decide to keep following you — because you’re not getting his ass anywhere without him wanting to go — but he plants his feet even more and shakes his head.

“Wait,” he whines, “hang on. I’m Santa!”

You snort. “Of course you are,” you try to appease, gesturing for him to start walking. To your relief, he finally takes a few steps, but his hold on your hand only gets tighter. 

“No,” he pouts, and you almost groan as he pulls you to a stop again. “I mean, I’m Santa in this story! And you’re Mrs. Claus!”

“Gyu, I’m not following. And it’s cold—“

“‘Ho ho ho-ly shit, you look good’,” he repeats the punchline, but this time, he uses his free hand to emphasize your outfit. “Do you get it now? I’m Santa and I’m saying that to you!”

You blink as you process. A pickup line?

All night, you’d managed to avoid… this, for the most part, because people were around and he was busy. Now, it’s just the two of you. Your body feels warm all over at the silly flirtation, at the insinuation, and you’re not sure how to respond. You don’t even get a chance to open your mouth, though, before he’s speaking again. 

“I don’t care what Santa says… you’re at the top of my nice list.” He winks, pulling you in closer to him so quickly that you stumble a little. It’s freezing outside, but you suddenly feel far too warm. 

“Can we please go home?”

Mingyu begins to giggle, and you half think he’s going to kiss you as he leans in. Then his forehead is falling into the crook of your shoulder, laughing into your scarf, arms sliding around your middle. You can’t do anything but hug him back while he calms down, your cheeks burning, until he stands up straight again and nods, smile still on his lips.

“I’m sleepy.”

You don’t know how you make it the rest of the way, but you do. When you arrive, you head into the bathroom to try and compose yourself.

“Hey!” Mingyu says abruptly, startling you when you exit his bathroom. He’s got his phone in his hands and he squints down at it, giggling to himself before meeting your expectant gaze. “Are you the Grinch?”

You blink. “Pardon?” 

“Because you’ve stolen my heart.”

You groan, ignoring the tingling feeling that shoots through your entire body at the stupid line. “Get changed,” you order, turning around to give him — and yourself — some space. “Where the hell are you getting these from?”

“From my brain,” he attempts. When you don’t say anything, he admits, “from Soonyoung.”

“Can you tell Soonyoung to shut up so we can go to sleep?”

“We?” 

You turn back in surprise to find him already in his bed, sheets pulled up around his waist. He’s beaming.

“Yeah,” you stammer, “you in here and me out there.” You jut your thumb in the direction of the living room, and Mingyu pouts again. 

“Oh. Well, hang out with me in here for a bit longer, then.”

“Fine. Fifteen minutes.” You cave, moving to sit next to him on the bed, leaving as much space between you as you can. 

Mingyu isn’t having any of it, though, as he rolls over and snuggles into your side. He holds up his phone, giggling, canines on full display as he wiggles his brows, before he says, “Mind if we take a picture? I need to show Santa exactly what I want for Christmas.”

“Remind me to kill Soonyoung for this.”

“Rude.” Mingyu is suddenly pouting, the change so quick that it takes you a second to process. “I asked him to send them. I wanted to tell them to you.”

Oh.

“I’m going to go to sleep,” is what you respond with, praying that he doesn’t notice how flushed your cheeks are as you stand up.

He catches you by surprise though, his fingers reaching for yours as he speaks, gently closing around them in an attempt to keep you close. “How come you won’t talk to me about it?”

You tilt your head in question. “Hm? Talk to you about what, Gyu?” 

His eyebrows furrow, and his frown deepens. With a tug, he’s pulled you back onto the bed next to him, his arm thrown over your legs as he presses his face into your side. You let yourself tangle your fingers in his hair, just one more time.

“This,” he murmurs, squeezing you gently on your thigh.

“Huh?”

You can feel it when he hums against you. “Us.”

Your hand stills its motions against his scalp, and the blood rushes to your ears.

“I’ve given you so much space,” he continues, his voice so sad that your heart sinks even lower. “And I don’t know what else to do.” 

“Mingyu—“

“Do you like me?” He interrupts, sitting up abruptly. His honey eyes are piercing as he asks it, as he delves as deep into your soul as he can go. You can tell he’s sobered up quite a bit as he looks at you, as he waits for your answer. 

“Yeah, I do,” you finally say. It’s quiet, soft, but he hears you.

Mingyu tilts his head, voice low as he presses on. “And do you really think I’m beautiful?”

You feel your cheeks flush even deeper. “You are.” 

Mingyu sits back, shoulders suddenly deflating. “Then why won’t you talk to me about it? Why do you keep it to yourself?” He looks away before he adds, quietly, “I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore.” 

His name comes out in a whisper. “Mingyu…”

He sighs, falling back down onto his bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. “Y/N,” he mumbles back.

You’re frozen. Your mind is racing, heart stumbling over itself as you search for the right words. You can’t find them. “Goodnight,” you say softly.

Mingyu nods, but he doesn’t look at you again as he responds, rolling over and away from you. “Goodnight.”

Needless to say, you don’t sleep very well.

Y/N [9:13am]: morning

Y/N [9:13am]: I had to go home to prepare for Jeonghan’s party. I didn’t want to wake you up 

Gyu [9:47am]: you should have woken me up.

Gyu [9:52am]: I’ll see you there 

You’re a bundle of nerves when you reach Jeonghan’s, every nerve standing on edge as you try and prepare yourself to see Mingyu. You know that tonight is the night – you can’t ignore what’s happening, not when he means so much. 

You greet the rest of your friends, trying to play it cool. You follow Chan into the apartment and to the table, freezing when you catch sight of Mingyu. He’s got on an ugly, green Christmas sweater with bells attached, and his hair is gently falling across his forehead as he chats to Jeonghan. Everyone turns as you walk in, but your eyes can do nothing but find him first. All he does when he sees you is raise his glass in your direction in acknowledgement, before he’s turning back to his conversation. It hurts, but you can’t say you don’t deserve it. 

I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore. 

His words replay in your mind over dinner and during the entire movie afterwards, where you happen to somehow be sat across from and beside anyone but Mingyu. It’s funny, you think, how you’re finally ready to face this, and you can’t even get close to him tonight. 

The entire night, you can feel him watching you from across the room. Every time you look back, he just smiles a bit and looks away. He doesn’t go out of his way to try to come find you, and you can’t say that doesn’t hurt. Should you have stayed this morning? Should you have talked about it? Probably.

You miss him, but he’s in the same room. 

I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore. 

You know you have to be the one to initiate this time – you know that he was vulnerable with you yesterday. It’s your turn now.

When the movie ends, Mingyu is the first to start cleaning up. You follow him into the kitchen, ignoring the stares from your friends as you practically trip over yourself to get to him. 

“Mingyu.”

He turns around from where he’s placing dishes in the sink in surprise. “Hey.”

You take a deep breath, debating starting with small talk – but you can’t do it. “Will you come outside with me?”

His hands stop halfway to the sink when you blurt the words out, abrupt, and you hold your breath. You don’t know if you’re imagining how tense he is. You hate this. You’re sure you’re about to be sick when he doesn’t respond for a moment, before he nods and dries his hands off on a towel. 

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

When you step outside, the awkward silence continues. Then the two of you are speaking at once.

“Mingyu, I need to—“

“We should—“

You let out a nervous laugh, biting down on your lip, and gesture for him to go first. He looks down, kicking at the ground with his boot, but your eyes are rooted to his face. Snowflakes are getting stuck in his hair as they fall, his lip drawn between his teeth, and you can’t look away. 

“Did you mean what you said last night?”

Your heart leaps into your throat. “I was the sober one, Gyu. Of course I do.” you try to joke to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t take the bait. 

“Did you say it just to shut me up, then?” His eyes fly to yours again, piercing. He’s tense, jaw clenched as he waits, and your stomach flips.

“Why would I do that, Mingyu?” 

He shrugs. Then he shoves his hands into his pockets, the bells on his ugly Christmas sweater chiming as he does, and you’d laugh if you didn’t instantly recognize his reaction for what it is: a defence mechanism. A defence mechanism to protect him from you. You can practically feel your heart begin to shatter.

“If you meant it,” he says, voice soft and low, “then say it again.” 

“Mingyu—“

You’re caught by surprise when he takes a step forward, cutting you off as he says, “I like you, and I need you to say it back right now if you meant what you said. If you don’t, I’ll never bring it up again, but I’m not going to keep guessing how you feel about me.”

“Of course I meant it.” The words come out so quickly, so desperately that you stumble over them a little. “I really, really like you, Mingyu. So much that I feel sick to my stomach about it sometimes.”

Another step closer. “So why did you leave this morning?” He doesn’t sound angry anymore. His voice is soft, almost uncertain. It’s you that closes the final step.

Your arms wrap around his waist and you pull him in tight, face muffled against his coat as you murmur, “I’m terrified about what this means for us.”

He moves back just enough to see you, hands finding your face. “What are you so scared of?” 

“I don’t know.”

“I like you,” he says again, eyes intent on yours. Your eyes flutter shut as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “And you like me.” 

You nod, your hands lifting to rest on his chest. “Yeah,” you whisper.

“I know you better than anyone else.”

You open your eyes, leaning back so that you can look at him this time. “You’re my favourite person in the world,” you say, and you watch as his smile begins to grow. You feel all sorts of giddy, fingers grasping the material of his coat tighter as he beams down at you.

“Yeah?” He teases, and your eyes fly to his mouth.

“Mhm.”

His expression grows serious again, eyes flickering across your face as he asks, “Do you want to give this a shot, then?”

You hope the kiss you press to his lips answers his question well enough. 

A/N: please please please reblog if you liked! it's what us writers rely on :)

TAGLIST: @gyuminusone @minisugakoobies @starsstuddedsky @hopeinthebox @tae-bebe @eoieopda @savventeen @wqnwoos

Message me if you want to be added to the permanent taglist!

[velvett-tearss]

do you guys think jesus, the son of a carpenter, smelt the wood of the cross & temporarily thought of home

[velvett-tearss]

i carry no hatred in my heart towards anyone except the internet trolls who bullied my favorite fanfic author so terribly she had to deactivate. i will never forgive them for what they did to her 😭😭😭

[velvett-tearss]

his ass is not listening!!!

[velvett-tearss]

[velvett-tearss]

I need more pics of Levi chillin’ out maxin’ relaxin’ all cool

[velvett-tearss]

ice cream day

[velvett-tearss]

1910s guy who calls including left-handed characters in stories forced diversity

[velvett-tearss]

I don’t know about everyone else but I personally love the ending of French Wine it’s bittersweet and I love how realistic it is and how everything isn’t a happy ending. I understand everyone wanting a happy ending tho but I just loved how u left it.

work in question: French Wine - Jean Kirschtein

awe thank u sm! tbh, I made it thinking I would always make a follow up, but a lot of things got in the way and then it did really well so i was okay w leaving it as it is, but people have said they would like a part 2 or something and it was what I had in mind originally so i will most likely make a part 2 haha but thank u sm 😭

[velvett-tearss]

we did not find it…

ok im so done

does anyone know that one fic where atsumu and reader break up after being together for a few years bc his mom kept pressuring him to get married (bc osamu just had a baby or smth like that) and atsumu ends up going to their old shared apartment and reader is there and reader like runs away but he ends up catching them in the doorway of their old bedroom and he apologizes and then they fuck 😭

[velvett-tearss]

ok im so done

does anyone know that one fic where atsumu and reader break up after being together for a few years bc his mom kept pressuring him to get married (bc osamu just had a baby or smth like that) and atsumu ends up going to their old shared apartment and reader is there and reader like runs away but he ends up catching them in the doorway of their old bedroom and he apologizes and then they fuck 😭

[velvett-tearss]

Stumbles out of google docs covered in blood

[velvett-tearss]

Istg all ur jean one shots are so good!! They are written so well BUT EVERY-TIME I RE READ FRENCH WINE IT LITERALLY KILLS ME THE FACT THEY DONT END UP TOGETHER 🥲🥲. I need to see an alternative future for them perhaps them meeting in future when they are older!!

work in question: French Wine - Jean Kirschtein

ahhh thank u for your kind words and for rereading!!! u guys make me so sad when yall say how u feel about the ending haha 😭 i feel bad bc i do have ideas for the french wine universe and i dont share them lol but don’t worry, im working on a follow up for french wine and i think its a very nice ending ;) but i also want to add more snippets of the friendship/situationship jean and reader find themselves in hahaha anyways check out the prequel cake day!!

[velvett-tearss]

the one thing i cannot read is cheating. like i literally read to escape reality, not to replicate my parents’ marriage 😵‍💫

[velvett-tearss]

𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤

✎ to help me get prepared for and get through the final year of university i want to host a college au collab—here to help me live vicariously through fictional characters to forget the fact i’m going to be a graduate next year 😬

✎ this is a SFW & NSFW collab! anyone 16+ is welcome to join (you don’t have to be following me!) but you must be 18+ to enter with an NSFW piece

✎ open for these fandoms:

haikyuu, attack on titan, jujutsu kaisen & obey me

✎ to join send me an ask with a character & scenario—be as specific as you want or leave it to be a surprise i do not mind! please tell me if it’s sfw or nsfw :))

✎ entries do not have a word limit!! headcanons, drabbles, one shots, multi chap fics—all are welcome 🥰

✎ limited to 3 entries per character but you can enter as many times as you would like—the more the merrier

✎ tag me & use the tag ‘thebestyearsofourlivescollab’ so i can reblog all entries!! NSFW pieces must be tagged appropriately & note that they will be reblogged on my nsfw blog (@reincho)

✎ reblog when you have been tagged :)

✎ there is no set deadline—take as long as you need. if you would like an rough date to get things done think of september 2023 as a deadline but there is no pressure to get it done by this time

✎ my ask box is always open for questions & do not feel as though you have to write something—if you enter and need to pull out no worries at all just let me know 😊

STATUS: OPEN

𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕜𝕪𝕦𝕦

✎ akaashi keiji — @sunarins-star

✎ hirugami sachiro — @sweetkoshi

✎ iwaizumi hajime — @eeriedustcloud 🔞

✎ matsukawa issei — @/mattsunkawa

✎ miya atsumu — @velvett-tearss

✎ oikawa tooru — @mekiza 🔞

✎ sakusa kiyoomi — @writingbymoonlight

✎ suna rintaro — @/sunarins-star

✎ tanaka saeko — @/mattsunkawa

✎ tsukishima kei — @yuutakittie

𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕟

✎ jean kirchstein — @kuroosdarling

✎ pieck finger — @/kuroosdarling

✎ reiner braun — @/mattsunkawa

𝕛𝕦𝕛𝕦𝕥𝕤𝕦 𝕜𝕒𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕟

✎ okkotsu yuta — @kitsunekanojo

𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕪 𝕞𝕖

[velvett-tearss]

"I said I was sorry!" Jean exclaimed as he trailed just a short distance behind you, being sure not to get himself caught in your frustration fueled gait.

"And I said 'sorry' doesn't help!" You yelled without stopping to look back at him.

"The guy pissed me off!"

"So what!? That doesn't make it okay to throw punches with him, in a public establishment at that!" You weren't an actual spectator of the brawl due to you having to run to the restroom, but the aftermath you walked into showed how bad it had gotten. You finally stop walking and turn on a dime to gesture strongly at his face, "You got yourself beat up, and for what!?"

He stops with you and responds with, "You should see the other guy."

"The other guy isn't standing in front of me with a busted lip." Though you spoke angrily, you grimace at the damage and step closer to gently rub at his reddened cheek. "With it bruising this soon, that's definitely gonna be swollen tomorrow."

Feeling your touch for the first time since you threw glares of disappointment his way in the bar has him visibly calming down with you, flinching slightly when your fingers brush against a tender spot that resulted from a good right hook. "Sorry."

You sigh at the sincerity lacing his tone and thump your forehead onto his chest, "...You said you'd stop doing this."

"I know," he said as he brought his arms around you and pulled you into a much needed hug.

"I don't like seeing you get hurt."

"I know."

"And yet you went and did it," you wrapped your arms around him in reciprocation.

"He was talking shit, he practically asked for it."

"And pray tell, who did he offend?" You bring yourself to look back up and see him staring directly at you.

"Me."

"Jean-"

"He was talking about you."

That explains things better. Though it warms your heart a bit to hear him defending you, it doesn't do much to deter your annoyance, "What could he have possibly said to make you go off like that though?"

His face contorting into one of conflicting thoughts was enough to make you retract your question, "You don't have to tell me if it's that bad."

"No, no, it's not that."

"Then what did he say?"

He looked off to the side and made eye contact with the semi empty road as he said, "He was checking you out..."

As much as you wanted details, it's clear he didn't want to repeat whatever was said, so you break the hug to grab his hand and finish the topic, "Well whatever he said is in the past. I'd tell you to drive me to the ice cream shop, but I don't think it's a good idea letting you walk around looking like that."

Jean smiled to himself in relief of the conversation being over with and retorted as he let you pull him along, "Like I said, it's really not that bad."

"It's bad enough for someone to call the police because they think I beat you up or something."

He falls into step with you and indulges in your rant about the night being too eventful to bother staying out, feeling emotionally drained from how high strung you were just a minute ago, and he agreed. Not only was the pain of his injuries slowly starting to kick in and add to his physical exertion, but he too needed a breather from the chaos he just put himself through. He internally pats himself on the back for somehow getting you to believe his little white lie, though it feels more like an avoidance of the truth rather than an outright lie. He was being honest when he said the guy from the bar was checking you out, but he left out quite a bit of the story, and wouldn't consider telling you the rest for some time.

He wouldn't tell you that the other guy was your ex, the same one who walked all over you for months before leaving your side for someone else, and who just so happened to be at the same bar as the two of you. He had the gall to stroll up to Jean once you left his side to relieve yourself, and told him to his face that he's nothing but a rebound for you (and them some). He wouldn't tell you that his words worked their magic and got him riled up, managing to puncture his well-hidden weak points of insecurity with ease. But he didn't swing until the guy decided to smirk and say, "They're just using you to get back at me."

He wouldn't tell you that he yelled at him as he went straight for his nose, reminding him that you're better than that and wouldn't give him the time of day after how he treated you. He made sure the entire room full of people knew that the bastard kept you around like some kind of side piece all because he was too insecure to appreciate how good you were. The last thing he said to him before proceeding to kick him out the door sounded as cliche as one can get, but it was the truth: he came running back all because he missed you.

You'd likely say the fight wasn't worth it if he told you, that your ex didn't deserve the time of day. But he already ruined the night by not controlling himself, why top it off by reminding you of your ex?

Maybe he'll be compelled to open that can of worms another day.

©lexinympho 2022, please do not edit or repost my works anywhere on this platform or another