Kim Seungmin/gn!reader
wc: ~2.7k
rating: mildly angsty cheesy fluff (idiot enemies to lovers)
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ happy (belated) birthday to @thackery-blinks and our Seungmo ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
“I don't wanna see him...I don't like him, I think I hate him”
you what?
If anyone were in the room with you, they definitely would have heard her booming voice coming through the phone. You have to pull it away from your ear for a moment, but that’s all she has to say. For now.
“I said…” you rub your ringing ear and turn the volume down. “I said I hate him.”
hate is a big word, I'm not sure he deserves that
“He’s arrogant, and he's rude to me. Don’t pretend you’ve suddenly forgotten.”
you’re hyper-fixating…and maybe a little jealous because he’s cute and funny around everyone else. and he’s not rude, he can’t be rude if he never says anything to you
You can hear her laugh even though she moves away from the phone.
“Are you trying to piss me off? I’ll stay home tonight, and you know that’s not just a threat.” You will. You hate going out at the last minute almost as much as you can’t stand Kim Seungmin. “...such an asshole.”
excuse me??
“Not you, shut up”
he has a weird sense of humor…c’mon, you know what this is, right?
“Yeah. A congrats slash going away party for our favorite touchy kissy couple. Is it awful that I’m relieved I won’t have to be subjected to any more of their over-the-top pda?”
no, I won’t miss it…but you’re also chronically angry and single, so you might be more relieved—but that’s not what I was I referring to
“I’m ready, are you on your way?”
yeah, this lights been red for ten minutes, I swear…what’s with the selective hearing tonight? I’m coming in to make sure you’re dressed right so don’t wait for me outside
“I hear you, I just don’t wanna listen to your ‘Seungmin actually likes you’ theory again”
my hypothesis…I need more evidence
/ / /
She’s quiet for the first ten minutes of the drive, only because a perfect string of songs pop up on the playlist, but as soon as it ends, she turns the volume down…
“Are you ready to hear this?”
“No”
“Alright, so there’s literally no reason…none at all for Seungmin to not like you, or be weird around you, or less talkative, or just walk away when you enter the room”
“But he does all of those things”
“Right. Do you not read romance novels? Fanfiction?”
“What kind of fanfiction are you reading?”
She’s already exhausted of your aloofness…or just your refusal to accept anything more than what’s already in your head. But you’ve known him, known of him, for a few months now. He doesn’t give you anything aside from what you catch when he’s with others. You’re invisible when he’s in the room, and the more you think about it, the shittier you feel.
“Hello, you good? You might not read fanfiction, but you’re staring out of that window like the protagonist in very sad story. No, antagonist. You’re my antagonist.”
“I am not,” you sigh. Everything suddenly feels very heavy, and maybe it’s because you know you’re almost there.
“There wasn’t much fight in that. You better perk up, we’re almost there.”
/ / /
The first thing you see is him, and it’s not because you’re looking. Seungmin is leaning against the staircase bannister, arms folded loosely over his sweatshirt. He’s less than ten feet away when the two of you walk in the door, but he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t turn his head out of curiosity. You’re surprised he doesn’t sense your presence and walk away.
“Sorry we’re late,” she says, making sure to gently shove you forward in his direction. “But we brought gifts!”
Now Seungmin looks at the two of you. First his eyes land on her, but they quickly dart in your direction, and they linger much longer than you expect. As much as you don’t want to scare him off, you take the rare moment to look at him from such a small distance—just his eyes, though.
“It’s us, we’re the gifts”
Seungmin clears his throat and takes his leave, just like you expect.
“Well, go after him”
“Why would I go after him? Please, give it a rest…I’m already tired.”
“Okay, okay…I’m sorry. Are you good?”
“No.” They’re angry tears, but nobody else knows that. "Not really." To the other eight people in the room, tears are tears, and you don’t want them seeing you, but it's too much to hold back. “I need a minute.”
You shove through her and the next arriving couple on your way outside, but you didn’t really think beyond this. It’s cold out, and you’re not really dressed to sit around by the water, but that’s where you head on instinct. It’s empty back here, which is what you need right now, and the cool air on your warm, red, tear-streaked face. Why are you even crying? Nothing has happened, not really. Seungmin looked at you, and his stupid brown eyes sparkled and grew as they watched you for far too long. Why did he have to look at you like that?
The gazebo is what you typically claim when you’re back here. That’s where you go. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s pretty, and it keeps you mostly hidden from anyone looking out from the house.
A text message buzzes, but you take your time pulling it out and checking. All it’s going to be is someone, your friend, looking for you.
come back inside
“I’ll think about it” …you reply.
he never came back in the room, if that makes you feel better
“It doesn’t”
You get a few more minutes of peace and quiet, but you’ll admit that you’re already getting cold sitting out here. The wind is coming off of the lake and right at you, and every time a stray tear falls, it feels like it might freeze. This won't accomplish anything, you know that, but hiding from everything is so much easier. You might hate yourself for it later, but right now you feel good in the chilly air.
And then there's a crunch of footsteps. You ignore it. Someone has found you, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting up and going with them that easily. You've already decided this is where you belong right now, and you'll stick to that until you're dragged back inside. The footsteps stop...whoever it is doesn’t speak, though. There's only the sound of something being dropped close to you ear, and the footsteps start to retreat almost immediately.
It’s a coat, draped neatly on the railing. A black cotton one that looks vaguely familiar, and when you turn a little more, you remember when you saw him wearing it last.
“Wait!”
You almost trip as you get to your feet, and you’re glad he hasn’t turned to see you yet. But he does—he stops and turns. He looks like he wants to keep walking, though, and he does…Seungmin takes a few more slow steps backward as he watches you grab the jacket and hold it against your chest. His scent reaches your nose. You’ve never been close enough to him to know it, but now you do.
There’s nothing to say, though. You have nothing to say to him, or you do and you just don’t know how to put the words together.
Seungmin stops, and then takes two steps toward you. Is he having fun? Is he just playing with you? Tears start to brim again, and luckily he’s not close enough to see it. If you don’t figure out your next move, he’ll turn and leave and you might not get this much attention from him again.
“Did she make you come out here?”
“Make me? No, nobody makes me do anything.”
You’re glad he’s not close enough to see you roll your eyes. “Then what’s this for?” You look at his jacket, and when you look back to him, he’s taking two more big steps toward you.
“It’s cold.” He says flatly, and maybe waits for your response that never comes. “I saw you walking out from the bathroom window. By yourself.”
“And?”
Are you making him uncomfortable? He looks like he doesn’t know how to answer for his actions, and maybe he doesn’t. He’s never concerned himself with your actions before, but you also never do anything to bring attention to yourself. This was an overreaction on your part.
“And…"
Uncomfortable, maybe. Confused…probably. Maybe you should kick him while he’s stumbling over himself. “Why are you concerned with how cold I am?”
Two more steps, and now he can definitely see your puffy face. “Sorry, I'll leave you alone."
He can’t be serious. Does he want you to explain this to him? The look on his face does seem a little helpless, and you’ve never seen him look anything but sure of himself.
“This is the second time you’ve spoken to me in months.” This is also the first time you’ve been alone with him for more than a few moments.
“That's because you always seem to be pissed off. You always look angry when I see you. You don't right now...you looked upset when you walked through the door a little bit ago.
Your eyes drop to the ground in front of him, and you have to work hard to relax the scowl on your face. “I’m not angry.”
"So I never tried talking to you. I assumed you didn't want to, since you never spoke to me, either."
The first time the two of you met, you exchanged a brief hello, and that was that. You remember it very well. Seungmin took your hand in his and squeezed it so softly. His eyes were intense, but warm, and now you’re wondering if you were wearing your scowl when you first looked at him. Why could you have?
“Put the coat on, please”
You’re shivering. So is he. Seungmin takes one more step and grabs the baluster, and you think he’s going to come up here with you, but he doesn’t. You let go of the coat and finally swing it around your shoulders. The scent coming from it makes your knees weak.
“Thank you”
This time he steps up, and he’s at your level. Above it, actually. He’s looking down on you, and every bit of space closed between you makes you feel even weaker. Stupid, so stupid. Nothing is even happening. He’s just standing there, looking at you drowning in his warm jacket. You could curl up on the ground and fall asleep in all this warmth, but his stare is making you anxious.
“You look mad again”
“I’m not,” you pounce, and you force yourself to relax again. “I’m not mad. I…I’m just...”
“I have witnessed you smiling and laughing…not with me, but I always wondered why I couldn’t do it. I can never get anything from you.”
The conversation doesn’t feel real, but it’s real enough for the party guests—a few of them peer out through the kitchen window, thinking they’re being discreet.
Seungmin has made you laugh before, but only in your head. And he’s made you smile, too…as you’re drifting to sleep and thinking of him doing exactly what he’s doing right now.
“You do make me laugh”
“I do?”
“Yeah, don’t tell anyone I said that”
You make him laugh—Seungmin actually laughs, genuinely, and it sounds so much nicer than any laugh you’ve heard from him before.
“That’s not fair. They see you making me laugh right now.”
They do. Three people are by the patio door, probably wondering why he isn’t in there charming everyone. You managed to steal him away, and you wonder how long you can keep him out here with you despite your numb face.
“We should go back in, it’s cold. You’re cold.”
“I’m fine. I really didn’t wanna come tonight anyway, so being out here is better.”
“You’d rather stand out in the cold by yourself than hang out with everyone?”
“I’m not by myself”
He laughs under his breath, but his smile is a little bit wider. “So you’d rather stand out here with me than enjoy the party?”
Yes, you don’t say it out loud. How could you? The way you’ve played up your hatred for him to others, and your indifference to his face since you’ve met. It’s a little embarrassing. But it’s painful being around Seungmin…pretending you’re not upset every time you’re dragged to group outing is exhausting.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes unless you say otherwise”
Perfect. Saying nothing should be easy, but this time you open your mouth. “I can’t pretend I’m happy when I’m not.”
“You don’t have to”
“But I put on a mask when you’re around and make everyone think I’m unhappy, even when I’m not”
“You’re not?”
“I mean…I am, because you leave the room every time I walk in. But I’m not, because you’re still around, somewhere…and maybe I still have a chance.”
“A chance. So you don’t hate me?”
“No, but I don't want to get my heart broken," why are you spilling your guts to him? "So we should just go back to how things were before.” The words are just falling out of you, and looking at him like this and being with him, finally alone, makes you want to keep going until there's nothing left.
“No, we shouldn't. And I don't want mine broken, either.”
Seungmin is in front of you now, blocking you from everyone still hanging around the window. They seemed to be getting bored watching the two of you talk and do nothing else, so you at least feel like you’re alone with him again.
He reaches toward you, and you jump.
“Sorry,” he whispers and pulls at the collar of the jacket, “but if you’re not going inside,” and bends to connect and pull the zipper until it’s closed up to your chin.
You’re sure you look ridiculous in it—it’s already a little bit big on him. And no, you don’t want to go back in, because the thought of everyone staring at the two of you as you finally return…
“No, I’d rather go home”
“I can take you home”
“Everyone is in there waiting for you”
“The party will still be here when I get back”
“I don’t know you very well.” You pull the zipper down a few inches. “At all, actually.”
“Oh, you don’t want me to take you home?” He smirks. “That’s very smart and safe of you. I could be a serial killer for all you know.”
“I mean I don’t know enough about you to…ya know, like you as much as I do”
He laughs again…just a sweet, maybe a little embarrassed giggle. “So you do?”
“What?”
Seungmin is blushing. You’ve seen him do this before; the blush, the giggle, and the smile so big you thought his face would crack every time a someone flirted with him. It was hard to hide then—that horrible sinking feeling in your gut when you thought he might leave with one of them. But now he’s blushing for you, and nobody else.
“You've been skirting around the words the entire conversation, and you have to spell things out for me sometimes. I didn’t wanna make a move until you said it."
“Said what, that I want you?"
“Wow…yeah, if you wanna put it like that. You want me,” he laughs again, “I guess I want you, too.”
“Make a move, please.” You whisper through your chattering teeth, and turn your head as your heart threatens to jump right out of your chest.
“Please?” Seungmin smirks pulls the zipper down a bit more, enough that you catch the cold breeze on your neck and chest. And then he’s there, lips an inch from yours, and he stares. “Please.”
You close the space between you, cautiously press your lips to his. His return is just as hesitant, and you’re surprised at his shyness. The zipper comes down even more, and Seungmin doesn’t stop until the coat falls open again—now he has somewhere to put his arms. They disappear inside, and he squeezes tight and deepens the kiss. He kisses like you expected him to, mouth open, tongue gently asking to be let in, and you let him in. You’re finally warm again, and you’d like to be even warmer.
“Seungmin?” You touch his neck, and his skin is hot against your cold hands, but it doesn’t faze him. His mouth quiets you when you think of speaking again, and it pains you to pull him off of you.
“What is it?”
“I don’t want an audience”
He turns and sees the group of guests gathered near patio doors; his friends, yours…all either watching or pretending not to watch the show you two are putting on.
“You just want me, yeah?" His eyes sparkle as if he can do it on command.
“Just you.” Your teeth chatter again, no matter how hard you try to stop it.
“I don’t mind ditching them for a few hours”
“You don't?”
“Not if you wanna get warmed up"
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❀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒❀
Stu Macher x Nerdy-male-reader
Stu is a very pushy boyfriend, but this time, he's pushed his fucking luck and crossed a line.
Warnings: Angst, death, slight gore, multiple mentions of SA, arguing, contact me if I need to add more.
Proshippers, Comshippers DNI
It wasn't hard making friends when it came to you. Yeah, you were a considerably nerdy guy who preferred to stay home and watch movies and read, and you certainly weren't some dashing Adonis who had a way with words, but you had a certain style, a strange charisma, that attracted people to you.
It's how you met, or, as people call it, "bagged" your boyfriend, Stu. He was a pretty fun guy. Always optimistic, and down to just about anything. The issue with him was boundaries. He had a bad habit of trying to push past yours.
Like now, for example. Throwing on some old orange flannel he'd given you as a gift, tightening the belt on your light boot cut jeans to with mild irritation to get ready for one of Stu's parties.
You hated parties. He knew this, but somehow, he always managed to manipulate you into going. With his pouty lips, his cartoonishly sad voices, and his puppy eyes, there was almost nothing he couldn't get you to do for him.
You knew this, and you never did much to resist. Cognitive dissonance, really.
"I don't know what you see in that clown." Your friend, and Stu's number one hater, Clyde scolds you, standing in the doorway of your bedroom as you get dressed. "It's not for you to see. It's for me to see. That's why he's my boyfriend." You joke, tying your shoes.
"I don't trust him, dude. He doesn't really respect you." He leans against the doorframe. "He respects me." You retort, standing up. "Until he doesnt get what he wants." Clyde raises an eyebrow. "I don't need you to be my dating coach."
"I'm not trying to be your dating coach, I'm trying to be your friend. And as your friend, I'm supposed to be supportive and honest with you. I've been supportive already, and now it's time to be honest. He's not good for you. He's slowly but surely pushing your boundaries and one of these days he's gonna convince you to do something you REALLY don't wanna do." Clyde sits up as you walk past him and out of your room.
"☆☆☆, I'm serious," he follows behind you, "the party may seem like a small inconvenience, but he's only doing small things first to test your layers."
You grab your car keys, ignoring his words. "You know, I don't need this right now." You turn around. "No, ☆☆☆. You need this a lot more than you think." Clydes eyes squint with anticipation. "I'll go with you." He offers. "To third wheel my date?" You tease him.
"Oh, puh-lease. It's a party. He'll never suspect me anyway. I'll just... keep my distance. But I'm not letting you go alone to some drug infested fuckfest full of college boys with little to no morals so he can spike your drink and let God knows who do God knows what to you." He stands in front of the door.
You wince at his words. "Yikes, Clyde. I get being concerned but you're getting too comfortable with these accusations."
"You're right, you're right. I went too far. But still, just let me go with you." Clyde begs. You sigh. "Get in the car and don't say another word about him." He nods in compliance as you both walk out, locking the door behind you.
You fold your arms as you walk past all the pre-inebriated. "Ugh, the party started twenty minutes ago and these people are already high as a kite." He pouts.
"POOKIE!" Stu yells out, tackling you with a hug that you don't return as your arms are folded. "Seriously, Stu?" You raise a brow.
"Don't be such a downer, honeybun. It's a par-tayyy. You need to let loose." He boops your nose. "Hey, Clyde." He says flatly, rubbing a hand across his face. Clyde frowns. "The fuck off me." He swats his hands. "Youch, Clyde. Still sore because I asked first?"
"Asked what first?" You ask, Clyde looking ready to burst. "Come onnn. I wanna show you somethin'." He pulls you towards the stares. "But, Clyde–" "Clyyyyde can wait." He kisses your forehead, pulling you along up the stairs.
Clyde pouts as he takes you away, struggling to hold back frustration as he knew what was about to go down. Stu didn't deserve you. He storms past some unlucky lady, causing her to slightly spill her drink as he slides into the garage.
He grabs a beer out of the fridge, bringing it to his mouth and slurping it down with only a quarter of his usual manners. "Fuck!" He exclaims, throwing the glass down and watching it shatter and fizz with the beer. It wasn't fair. He's wanted you so long. He's respectful, supportive, he adores you. And you choose some skeezer like Stu.
And just when he thought his luck couldn't get any worse, his phone rang. With a huff, he answers. "Yeah?"
Stu presses you against the bathroom sink, standing crotch to crotch against you as he tugged at your belt. You put a hand on his chest, pushing him back with what little energy you had, your half empty cup of liquor sitting on the sink. "What's the problem?" He asks, now slightly bothered by your resistance.
"You're going too fast." "I'll slow down, baby." "No, I mean us– this relationship– I don't think we're this far yet." "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Stu, I–" your heart drops at the sound of a man screaming. You push him a way and back into the wall, running out of the bedroom. Scurrying down the stairs as you fix your pants, your startled by what you see.
Clyde stumbles into the living room, swatting his left hand, the right clenching his heart as blood spilled past it. He gargled incoherently, falling limp onto the couch. "Clyde!" You shriek, running down to his side.
"Clyde, buddy, talk to me." You shake him, pulling his hand away to see the myriad of stab wounds to his chest. You scoff in shock, your breath catching in your throat to see his eyes empty, lifeless. "What the fuck?!" You curse, backing away. "Clyde!!!"
You lay on your side in your bed. Tears are streaming down your face. It's been hours, but it feels like days have passed. You tremble quietly, sniffling. God, you should've listened to him.
Your phone rings. You don't want to answer. You don't want to live. Nothing even had purpose anymore. Your best friend, gone without a goodbye, and someone had the nerve to be calling you, as if they wouldn't have plenty more time to talk.
You snatch it off the line.
"☆☆☆, baby–" "No!" You interrupt Stu, fury filling you in an instant as you recognize his voice. "This is all your fault, damn it. I told you I didn't like parties! You always do this to me! You never respect my boundaries, man!"
"..I... I do respect you.." "No, you don't! Just last night, I had to force you off of me in the bathroom and when I told you I wasn't comfortable, you KEPT. PUSHING! WHO KNOWS WHAT YOU WOULDVE DONE HAD I BEEN ANY DRUNKER?!"
"Aww, dude, honey, you know I would...I would never do anything like that to you..." he sounds so genuinely bad, almost hurt by your words.
"Clyde is dead, Stuart! He's dead! He ain't coming back!"
"..I know.." "No, you DON'T. You don't know ANYTHING! THE ONLY THING YOU KNOW IS TO BEG AND PUSH TIL YOU GET WHAT YOU WANT!"
"I DIDN'T KILL CLYDE!" "I DON'T KNOW THAT!"
The line goes quiet, and the only thing you can hear is the static.
" What are you trying to say, ☆☆☆?" "I'm breaking up with you. I can't do this with you anymore. I can't keep begging you for basic respect in this relationship. I'm tired and I'm scared and for all I know, you could've done this."
"No, baby, no. Please, no. Please, don't do this." His firm words turn into pleading whimpers. "I'm sorry, but I've made my decision." You hang up the phone. And Stu stands there, the line buzzing as tears run down his face.
You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself.
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