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peachy-writings · 2 years

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thank you so much, i’m so glad you enjoyed it 💕

For Now | Kwon Soonyoung

Prompt via @svtwritenight: Hit shuffle on a playlist/album you haven’t listened to in a while. Use the first line of the song as your first line

↳ Love - Syd ft. Dean “You give me something I need in my life.” & Even If It Hurts - Tei Shi ft. Blood Orange “What did you expect from me?”

Member: BFF!Kwon Soonyoung

Content: Angst; Some fluff; Humor; Friends to Lovers; GN Reader; 5.4k words

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol; Soonyoung litters; Brief mentions of vomiting; Illusions to being drunk/tipsy

Masterlist

“You give me something I need in my life.”

“Sure. Say one more sappy thing and I’ll leave your sorry-ass here,” you groan out, eyeing the clearly drunk man beside you that just so happens to be your best friend.

With the way things are looking, though, he may as well have transformed into your worst nightmare. Soonyoung has always been the hopeless romantic type. With a heavy emphasis on the hopeless part. Hell, the instance in which you first met told you that much.

It was a muggy, mid-summer day and you’d been on your way from your parked car to the distant beachfront. You halted when you saw a man of around your age sitting on a bench with a bouquet of vibrant, red roses lying in his lap. His head was dipped downward so that the tip of his nose was pointed toward the sidewalk.

Continually, he hummed a love song that had been popular on the radio at the time, mumbling a word or two every handful of seconds. You didn’t know why, as you tended to avoid strangers if you could, but you stopped to stand in front of him. His head shot up when he saw your shoes appear on the ground he was woefully staring at.

Hope was written across his features, but it soon died at the sight of your unfamiliar face. His quick shift in emotion almost made you laugh, but you had enough decency not to kick the man while he was down. From his posture, with the addition of the bountiful roses with no clear recipient, you deduced that he had been stood up.

“Hello. Not to sound rude, but who are you?”

“Just a curious onlooker,” you answered, not really knowing where you were going with this impromptu interaction. “I saw you and thought you should know that those roses are gonna wilt if you don’t put them in some water soon.”

His dejected expression turned into a flat out deadpan at your words. So, you weren’t very smooth, or as empathetic as you’d initially thought upon approaching him…

“Well, then,” he sighed out as he clutched the bunch of stems in a tight fist, tipping them in your direction, “either you can have them, or I can toss them into the ocean. Plenty of water there.”

An eyebrow rose and you reached out to take the flowers he held out. But then he pulled them away and smirked at you in a strangely aloof manner. You nearly scoffed.

“On second thought, I think I deserve these more. How do you feel now?” His eyes gazed at you with a certain tenacity that shocked you.

And then you laughed. His snarky little grin sunk off his face, just as he sunk back into the bench. He groaned and chucked the bouquet onto the empty space next to him, hands coming up to rub over his face.

“I guess I feel a little like you do right now,” you answered genuinely, folding your arms and watching as he looked up at you with a slow blink.

“Well, you’d be correct in that assumption.”

“Can I sit?”

He gestured limply to where the roses were lying on the scratchy wooden bench. You sat and placed them in your lap, too invested in this unknown man and his relationship problems to care about meeting up with your friend and their partner on the beach anymore. This was far more interesting than third-wheeling two of the most PDA-forward individuals you’d ever had the misfortune of keeping company. And he seemed upset. You were genuinely curious about him and wanted to try to brighten his day.

“So, what’s the story? A no-show date, proposal gone wrong?” You asked as you let your fingers rub a velvety petal that had detached from one of the flowers.

“First one,” he responded, elbows planted on his thighs with his chin in his hands. His head turned so that he could look at you when he spoke.

You acknowledged his words with a deep hum. “I’m guessing… third date?”

“First.”

“Damn.”

“Right?”

“These were expensive, huh?” You rotated the bunch of roses and spotted a sticker near the base that told you he had dropped nearly 40 dollars on the bouquet. “Were they that fine? 40-dollar-roses fine?”

He chuckled. “Not really. I just like making a good impression. And roses are romantic. They’re pretty, and apparently fun to desecrate for nosey weirdos like yourself,” he quipped as he watched you rip up the petal you’d been fidgeting with during your conversation.

“Hey, it fell off after you threw it on the bench. That’s fair game in my opinion. Also, question: Why the hell would you spend so much money on flowers for a first date? Personally, I’d rather have someone buy food or something else that would be more useful than some flowers that’ll rot in less than a week.”

A dry look was exchanged between the two of you before he smiled and sat up. “Alright, then. Wanna go eat something?”

“Are you asking me on a date, person-that-I-don’t-even-know-the-name-of?” You crooned humorously.

“Soonyoung. And, no. I’m all dated-out for the next month, at least. But, if you wanna be friends, I’m down. It’s not every day that someone attempts to comfort you about your no-show date and then ends up making fun of you.”

“Well, I’m Y/N, and my tactics worked—somewhat, so I’d call that a success,” you responded with a grin. “And I’d be happy to grab a bite with you. But seriously, those roses are gonna die, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung promptly snatched the bouquet from its place in your lap, walked over to the railing on the edge of the low cliff, and chucked it into the ocean as if shooting a basketball.

This is the moment you knew you were going to be good friends. Or that you’d at least have to stick around long enough to get it through his head that what he had done that day was considered a crime against the environment.

So, here you are now, sitting next to the same, tragically fanciful man you'd met that day on your way to the beach. And once again, you are left with the task of providing him support after yet another failed date. Only, this time, things are a bit different than they’d been previously.

You’ve always told Soonyoung that if he were to call you up, drunk off his ass and asking for a ride, you would hang up. Which is why he created a loophole by taking you with him to the bar. You don’t like the idea of him drinking while alone or sad, so you maintain the duty of babysitting him and regulating his alcohol intake as best you can.

“No, I’m serious. Ever since we met, you’ve been there for me. Always. Even if you-“ Soonyoung’s words are interrupted by a hiccup “-act like you don’t care… I know that you’ll always be there for me.”

Soonyoung is sat right beside you, his body turned to face you as he speaks. There’s a definite slur to his speech and a hazy look in his eyes that prompted you to subtly alert the bartender to cut him off a little while ago. He is a puddle of goo at this point, becoming extremely sentimental and directing his beam of never-ending affection at you for the night.

You’re used to it, knowing that he’s just that kind of person; someone who is perceived as flirty, even when he isn’t trying to be so. Someone that is as charming as he is absolutely hilarious. Someone that could fool you into thinking he has feelings for you when he’s just in one of his emotional moods.

Not that you don’t enjoy pretending as if you are the apple of his eye in those moments.

Not that you’d ever give him an inkling as to the growing feelings you harbor for him.

“Yeah, well that’s my job as a decent human being. You’re my friend and I’m supposed to look out for you. But you do make it very hard for me to do that when you shower with the mushiest lines I’ve ever heard in my life,” you respond, punctuating your statement with a dramatic gagging sound.

Soonyoung giggles, and his beaming smile is displayed to the world for a short while. Until he remembers why he’s here, at the bar, after having dragged you out of your home to comfort him for the nth time this month alone.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” He asks, bottom lip jutting out a bit to display his sudden shift in mood.

“Of what?”

“Of dealing with me?”

Your eyebrows draw together in disbelief. “No,” you state, firmer than you intend. “I don’t ‘deal’ with you, Soonyoung. I care about you. You may rely on me a lot to cheer you up after whatever goes on in your dating life, but that doesn’t mean I don’t rely on you, too.”

“But I never do things for you. You never ask me for help with anything. I’m useless in this relationship.” He raises his hands and then slaps his thighs to punctuate his statement.

You shake your head at him, mentally counting the amount of drinks he’s had before deciding that he’s drunk enough to probably—hopefully—not remember what you say next.

“You’d never be useless to me. Even if the only time we spent together was just you crying in my lap over some person that broke your heart, I’d be there. Because I’d get to hold you and be near you. And I’d be the one you were going home to… That’s selfish, isn’t it?”

His lips part to respond, but then you stand up and he shuts his mouth, blinking at you in an admittedly adorable manner.

“C’mon. Let’s go.”

“We’re going home?”

“Yup. Get up.” You usher him along with a roll of your wrist.

When he finally slides off of his barstool, he grabs onto your arm and gives you a look that nearly melts your heart. “Can we go to your home?”

“Yes, Soonyoung.”

He appears to have already forgotten about your roundabout way of confessing to him, excitedly babbling in your ear about something you don’t register because you’re too busy thinking about the way he so easily leans into you. You wonder if you’ll ever get the guts to sincerely tell him how you really feel.

You suppose that having him by your side, as you’d told him before, is enough.

You tell yourself that it is enough.

“What did you expect from me?” Soonyoung asks, a little smirk curling the edges of his lips as he holds an ice-cream cone in both hands.

Your eyes roll in his direction, but you can’t help but to admire how easy it is to please him. One cone from a drive-thru fast food restaurant and you’ve just become his favorite person in the world—as if you weren’t already.

“Hey, I’m not gonna judge you for your lifestyle,” you respond, holding your hands up in defense.

The two of you are sitting in the parking lot of the aforementioned food joint, the fluorescent lights from the sign out front casts a warm glow onto Soonyoung’s face. You are turned in your seat to look at him, to observe the way he practically inhales his treat, nearly dropping it a few times.

“Stop making it sound like I do bad things,” Soonyoung complains in between small nibbles at the beige colored cone. “Can’t a man enjoy a fifty cent ice-cream in the middle of winter without getting slandered?”

You sniff in amusement but don’t respond, busying yourself with queueing up some songs for the ride home. Upon feeling eyes on you, you look up at Soonyoung and quirk a brow. A semi-defeated sigh leaves you when you realize what that looks means.

The drive home is fairly uneventful. Soonyoung immediately takes control of the aux—as he usually does—and belts along to every song that is played, absolutely singing his heart out. The windows are cracked open about an inch, even though it is exceptionally chilly out, and the cool wind that kisses your skin is soothing in a cathartic kind of way. The contrast of the freezing, winter air and the processed heat erupting from the vents causes you to sink into your seat. Two opposites clash and create something lukewarm and comforting.

Your gaze shifts to Soonyoung when you can afford it, at stop signs and red lights, and you smile every time. He is full of passion, and unabashedly so, as he holds an invisible microphone in one hand, the other animatedly flailing to the cadence of his voice. And then the light turns green, or you notice that you’ve been stopped for too long, and you step on the gas, embarrassed. Disconcerted by the way he so easily gains your full attention by simply being himself.

The turning point in the night is when you arrive home, park the car, get out, and Soonyoung immediately throws up in a nearby bush. You thought you’d done a good enough job at monitoring his drinking, but the sight of him with his hands on his knees, spitting into that poor bush, tells you otherwise.

“You okay?” You ask as you rub circles onto his back. He hums and slowly stands straight, once again latching onto you by the arm so that you can lead him into your home. “You know, I’m a little worried about you,” you say as you help him out of his coat. “You usually drink more than that, right?”

Soonyoung shrugs, continuing to remain silent. You sense that something is up with him, but you let your worries die in your throat when he waddles off to the bathroom. As he freshens up, you start on the routine you’ve established for whenever Soonyoung spends the night: grab the extra blankets and pillows, peel your covers to one side and set up Soonyoung’s side. Always him on the left and you on the right. The domestic quality to it all makes your heart ache in your chest.

He enters the room not too long after, gracing you with a soft smile when he sees you waiting there on your designated side of the bed for him. You smile back, gesturing to your dresser wordlessly. There are always clothes in there that he leaves after hanging out or sleeping over. It just became a habit for you to wash them and place them in your dresser until you decided to give up on reminding him to remember his clothes completely. That’s how the Soonyoung drawer was born; another thing that’s painfully domestic when you think about it for too long.

Soonyoung crawls into the spot next to you, laying on his belly and burying his face in a pillow. A long pause comes and passes.

“It was the fifty cent ice-cream, wasn’t it?”

His giggle is muffled until he turns his head to look up at you where you sit, back against the headboard. For the second time tonight, you roll your eyes at him, but your overall countenance remains lighthearted.

“If I say ‘yes’, you’re just gonna make fun of me.”

“Of course I will,” you reply with a faux warmth that has him pouting up at you.

A small yawn leaves his lips and you watch as his eyes slowly fall shut, his features relaxing as you assume he falls asleep. You allow yourself to openly take him in, even going so far as to reach over and brush the hair off his forehead once you deem it safe to do so. Your eyes wander to the clock on your nightstand and your brows shoot up when you realize that it’s nearly 2 in the morning. Tonight’s excursion lasted longer than you’d planned for, but that’s a thing that comes with Soonyoung: forgetting about time itself in his presence.

With one final look at his peaceful face, you heft yourself off of the bed and go to turn off the light.

“Where are you going?”

You stop in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder to see Soonyoung turned on his side, looking at you. An unexpected flutter starts up in your stomach and you have to look away from him before your thoughts bury you further in the rut you’ve dug yourself into. Soonyoung’s question is answered by the flick of the light switch. Silence follows, aside from the rustling of the covers as you crawl back into bed. Your heart races in your chest as you wonder if he’s been awake this whole time. He’s sobered up enough to question the affectionate way you touched his forehead earlier.

“Goodnight,” you breathe, even though you are on your back, staring wide eyed at the ceiling. Or trying to, at least, as it’s too dark to see much of anything now.

“What’s wrong?” He simpers, and you want to bury yourself in your blankets and scream at the softness of his voice.

“It’s late; you should go to sleep, Soonyoung.”

You feel the bed shift, hear the blankets rustle as he moves. And then he’s in your ear. “You’ve been acting weird today. What is it?”

He moves again, and then his knuckles brush against your arm. Your face burns and you let out a sigh in an attempt to steady your shaky breathing. He is right beside you. You can hear his quiet breaths, can feel them tickle your ear.

“Were you lying about what you said at the bar?” He asks when you don’t answer his previous question.

“What do you mean?” Your entire body tenses up when he mentions the bar. The thinly veiled confession you'd made earlier replays in your mind and presses a firm hand down on your chest, holding you in place.

“You said you rely on me, too. But now you won’t tell me what’s going on. C’mon, Y/N. Talk to me. It’s okay,” he says, speaking slowly as his fingers curl around your arm and his nose presses against your shoulder.

“Soonyoung… I-I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine, fine,” he finally digresses, “but you better tell me.”

You hum, but you are praying he won’t ask about it after you wake up. Have you really been acting strangely? Can he sense your emotions? Why is he still so close to you?

A brief pause.

“Goodnight,” you say again, eyes still wide open.

Soonyoung nudges your temple with his forehead and lets out a soft sigh that warms the side of your face for a brief moment. You are still paralyzed with nerves, mind swimming with the possibility that when you inevitably do confess to him, he won’t return your feelings. It doesn’t seem that life-shattering to the logical side of your mind; you’re not the first person to fall in love with their best friend, and Soonyoung is one of the most understanding people in the world. Nothing about the way he interacts with you would change, and that should be comforting.

But to the emotional side of your mind, that fact only gives you a sliver of relief. The problem here is you. You aren’t sure if you’d be able to continue receiving his caring touches and mushy words without reading too much into them, as you have been doing for quite some time. The thought of you having to distance yourself from Soonyoung because of the sappy, hopeless romantic part of yourself that you never let see the light of day pains you. It fills you with convoluted feelings that drown you from the inside in their attempt to free themselves from your sealed lips.

What makes your agony infinitely worse is that the person fueling all of these intense and complex emotions is currently beside you. Ever so slowly scooting himself closer to you. You realize this when you are pulled out of your own mind by the feeling of Soonyoung gingerly placing his arm over your stomach.

Why is he still awake?

“I can't sleep,” he whispers, as if reading your mind.

The weight of Soonyoung’s arm on your torso is so comfortingly upsetting to you. You don’t want him to move away, but your conscience is telling you to push his arm off. To not take his platonic affection and contort it into something else.

“Why not?” You ask, if only to distract yourself from the heap of internal conflict that runs rampant through your mind.

“I can tell you’re upset about something right now, and I wanna make sure you’re okay. You know I can’t rest if you’re not happy.”

His tone is knowing, perceptive in a manner that you can’t argue with. Being secretly in love with your best friend is a hard thing to pull off when said best friend can read you like a book. Even when you are positive that you aren’t showing any sign of distress, he always knows when you’re overthinking or just generally upset.

“Really?” You keep your tone casual, remaining aloof in the face of his spot-on analysis. “What makes you think I’m upset?”

“... I don’t know. I can just feel it,” he replies with genuinity woven into the fabric of his voice.

“You can feel it,” you echo with the hope that your teasing timbre will lead to a more lighthearted conversation.

“Stop.”

Soonyoung’s voice is clear in your ear as that single syllable punches you in the gut, rendering you speechless. He is being completely serious, and you’ve just gone and insulted him by trying to joke about the way he’s explaining himself. You want to sink into yourself until your atoms collapse into a black hole that wipes you out of existence. You’re being an asshole.

“Sorry.”

“Why do you do that?” You hum questionably, urging him to continue. “Whenever I talk about my feelings or say something from my heart, you almost always brush it off. Or-or you act like I’m being silly. Why do you act like you don’t have emotions at all when it comes to me?”

Soonyoung’s voice never raises once when he says this, but his syllables are sharp, punctuated by the agitation he feels in the moment. You don’t understand. The relationship you guys have has always worked in this manner. You’ve always been frank and sarcastic. Since the day you met him, he’s known that this is how you act, how you function, how you cope when faced with emotional situations.

You can acknowledge the fact that it was wrong of you to joke about his sincere feelings, but when it comes to things like this, he’s never this vehement. You’ll receive a glare or an ‘I’m being serious’ under circumstances where Soonyoung wants you to listen without the usual commentary, but never this. Never him calling you out for the personality and habits that make up, well, you. Never him accusing you of being void of emotion when you've had long talks in the past about the way you respond to that kind of thing.

It’s in your nature to pull away from soft feelings, and in his to nudge that softness back at you; this relationship is symbiotic, evening one other out naturally without one having to push for the other to be a certain way. So why is he dissecting you and telling you that you lack a heart within your chest?

“It’s a defense mechanism. You know that.”

Soonyoung’s arm retracts from where it lays over your stomach. Your chest aches at the loss of contact, but even more so, it burns with dejection. You suppose you hurt him so he hurt you, and it feels twice as bad.

“From what?” You hear him move and assume that he is sitting up now. “Y/N, I know you’re practically the opposite of me, but it makes me wonder sometimes—When I’m looking at you and you look so cold, I wonder if you feel the way that I do. Because you do all these things behind the scenes, like putting my clothes in a drawer just for me and keeping my favorite snacks on hand. And you listen to me talk about my train wreck of a love life and give me somewhere where I can go to stop the loneliness from killing me but—When I try to give back, it’s like you don’t care.”

“Soon-“

“You smile and accept my gifts and hugs, but you retract right after. You almost look… disgusted. So, is it me? Am I just a basket case that you can’t get rid of because you’re already in too deep? Are you lying when you say things like you rely on me, too, or you like that you're the one I come home to? Do you think I’m stupid? That I don’t remember what you said and then brushed off like it was nothing? Jumped to shove me into the car so I could go to bed and forget about it all the next day? Tell me what’s going on, because it feels like you’re playing with my heart.”

It’s silent for a long while as you process everything he’s just said. You shift to sit up on your bottom, feeling strange about remaining on your back, and you wish that you could see him right now. His voice became choked at the end of his deploration and you can only assume that he is near—if not in—tears at the moment.

“I-I don't really know how to respond, Soonyoung. You said a lot of things, and I understood them, but what’s the reason for all of this? I feel like this is about something bigger, because you never…” You come up empty handed when you delve for the right words to describe your fast paced thoughts.

“No. It’s fine. I shouldn't have said anything.”

Soonyoung’s watery voice and the sniffle you hear after he speaks confirms that he is now crying. You aren’t sure what to do. Your mind is still stuck on some of the things he said.

‘I wonder if you feel the way that I do.’

‘It feels like you’re playing with my heart.’

These are some of the things you think about when Soonyoung is in front of you. So, is it that he feels the same way for you, or does he just care about you that much platonically? Either is reasonable in your mind, based on the affectionate way he talks about his other friends. You try to be unbiased, but you want it to be the former option so badly you can’t bear it.

“Soonyoung, it’s not fine. Those are your feelings, and it seems like you’ve been keeping them inside for a while… If you want me to work on myself, I will. I don’t like being the reason you’re crying.” He sniffles again but remains silent otherwise. “Please say something.”

You reach out into the darkness and find his elbow with your hand. Clumsily, you snuffle toward him on your knees until they bump against his leg. He lets out a small sigh and his arm slightly moves, but not out of your grasp. You let your hand run up his arm, finding his hand, and his damp face underneath.

“Soonyoung?”

His hand grasps yours and slowly pulls it behind his shoulder so that you lean in closer to him. Immediately, your free arm finds his waist and you push him toward you, so that you are holding him to your chest. His moist cheek presses against your collar bones and his hair tickles your upturned chin, your bodies awkwardly stretched to meet one another in your sitting positions.

“I do care,” you mumble. “I just don’t know how to express how much I care without going over the line.”

He finally speaks, his cheek leaving your chest. “If there’s a line, I’ve been walking it for a while.”

“Please stop speaking in metaphors; it’s confusing.”

Soonyoung lets out a frustrated groan and suddenly his hands find your cheeks. He squishes your face between his palms and you find yourself becoming annoyed with his knack for being unresponsive when you need clarification, but your grievances don’t get the chance to come out. There is a warmth that blocks your lips from moving, and then it is gone. The only reason you understand what has just happened is the unfamiliar brush of Soonyoung’s nose against the side of yours when he pulls away. Your hands clutch his shirt where they rest on his back, and you let out a noise of utter confusion.

“This is scary,” you hear Soonyoung say, the vibration of his voice felt through the small pocket of air between your lips. “But I couldn’t say it, so I had to show you.”

“You… Do you like me?”

Your brain is going at approximately one mile an hour, the shock of it all nearly slowing your thoughts to a halt.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I—oh, god, I’m gonna say it—I love you. In the most not-as-best-friends-way. Or, maybe as best friends. But, like, best friends that want to get married—in the future, of course. Not right now. I’m not proposing or anything-“

“Soonyoung.”

He falls silent, his nervous babbling halting at the sound of his own name. You aren’t sure if you can say those three words to him yet, if you can find any words at all to express the overwhelming amount in which you agree with him. So you close the gap between your faces once again, bringing a hand to the back of his neck and pressing your lips to his for a longer, more drawn out kiss. When you pull away, he wraps his arms around your body and gently lowers the two of you down onto the bed. You keep your grasp on him, afraid of letting go and losing him in the darkness once again, and he chuckles blithely.

“We’re idiots,” he says, but with the most jovial lilt to his voice.

“I think you’re correct,” you reply as your fingers trail down his arm and find his hand with yours. Your palm flattens against his and your fingers intertwine.

“I think you’re the only person that would kiss me back after I threw up an hour before.”

You blink. “Did you brush your teeth?”

“Of course. I’m not a monster.”

“Hey, Soonyoung?” He hums, chest rumbling under your head. “I would’ve kissed you even if you didn’t brush your teeth.”

He laughs. A yawn leaves you as fatigue sets in; both physical and emotional. “Is that your way of saying ‘I love you, too’?”

“I guess so. For now.”

“Gross.”

You fall asleep like that, wrapped up in one another’s arms on top of the messy covers. There are many things that need to be discussed in the morning, and a lot of work that needs to go into your newly founded relationship. It’s scary, falling in love with your best friend, but there is nothing you wouldn’t do to make him happy. And you are positive he feels the same way.

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peachy-writings · 2 years

Text

this fic is almost at 100 notes 🎉 get ready for my milestone event once it hits my first goal!

For Now | Kwon Soonyoung

Prompt via @svtwritenight: Hit shuffle on a playlist/album you haven’t listened to in a while. Use the first line of the song as your first line

↳ Love - Syd ft. Dean “You give me something I need in my life.” & Even If It Hurts - Tei Shi ft. Blood Orange “What did you expect from me?”

Member: BFF!Kwon Soonyoung

Content: Angst; Some fluff; Humor; Friends to Lovers; GN Reader; 5.4k words

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol; Soonyoung litters; Brief mentions of vomiting; Illusions to being drunk/tipsy

Masterlist

“You give me something I need in my life.”

“Sure. Say one more sappy thing and I’ll leave your sorry-ass here,” you groan out, eyeing the clearly drunk man beside you that just so happens to be your best friend.

“Hello. Not to sound rude, but who are you?”

His dejected expression turned into a flat out deadpan at your words. So, you weren’t very smooth, or as empathetic as you’d initially thought upon approaching him…

An eyebrow rose and you reached out to take the flowers he held out. But then he pulled them away and smirked at you in a strangely aloof manner. You nearly scoffed.

“On second thought, I think I deserve these more. How do you feel now?” His eyes gazed at you with a certain tenacity that shocked you.

“I guess I feel a little like you do right now,” you answered genuinely, folding your arms and watching as he looked up at you with a slow blink.

“Well, you’d be correct in that assumption.”

“Can I sit?”

“So, what’s the story? A no-show date, proposal gone wrong?” You asked as you let your fingers rub a velvety petal that had detached from one of the flowers.

“First one,” he responded, elbows planted on his thighs with his chin in his hands. His head turned so that he could look at you when he spoke.

You acknowledged his words with a deep hum. “I’m guessing… third date?”

“First.”

“Damn.”

“Right?”

A dry look was exchanged between the two of you before he smiled and sat up. “Alright, then. Wanna go eat something?”

“Are you asking me on a date, person-that-I-don’t-even-know-the-name-of?” You crooned humorously.

Soonyoung promptly snatched the bouquet from its place in your lap, walked over to the railing on the edge of the low cliff, and chucked it into the ocean as if shooting a basketball.

Not that you don’t enjoy pretending as if you are the apple of his eye in those moments.

Not that you’d ever give him an inkling as to the growing feelings you harbor for him.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” He asks, bottom lip jutting out a bit to display his sudden shift in mood.

“Of what?”

“Of dealing with me?”

“But I never do things for you. You never ask me for help with anything. I’m useless in this relationship.” He raises his hands and then slaps his thighs to punctuate his statement.

You shake your head at him, mentally counting the amount of drinks he’s had before deciding that he’s drunk enough to probably—hopefully—not remember what you say next.

His lips part to respond, but then you stand up and he shuts his mouth, blinking at you in an admittedly adorable manner.

“C’mon. Let’s go.”

“We’re going home?”

“Yup. Get up.” You usher him along with a roll of your wrist.

When he finally slides off of his barstool, he grabs onto your arm and gives you a look that nearly melts your heart. “Can we go to your home?”

“Yes, Soonyoung.”

You suppose that having him by your side, as you’d told him before, is enough.

You tell yourself that it is enough.

“What did you expect from me?” Soonyoung asks, a little smirk curling the edges of his lips as he holds an ice-cream cone in both hands.

“Hey, I’m not gonna judge you for your lifestyle,” you respond, holding your hands up in defense.

Soonyoung crawls into the spot next to you, laying on his belly and burying his face in a pillow. A long pause comes and passes.

“It was the fifty cent ice-cream, wasn’t it?”

“If I say ‘yes’, you’re just gonna make fun of me.”

“Of course I will,” you reply with a faux warmth that has him pouting up at you.

With one final look at his peaceful face, you heft yourself off of the bed and go to turn off the light.

“Where are you going?”

“Goodnight,” you breathe, even though you are on your back, staring wide eyed at the ceiling. Or trying to, at least, as it’s too dark to see much of anything now.

“What’s wrong?” He simpers, and you want to bury yourself in your blankets and scream at the softness of his voice.

“It’s late; you should go to sleep, Soonyoung.”

You feel the bed shift, hear the blankets rustle as he moves. And then he’s in your ear. “You’ve been acting weird today. What is it?”

“Were you lying about what you said at the bar?” He asks when you don’t answer his previous question.

“Soonyoung… I-I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine, fine,” he finally digresses, “but you better tell me.”

You hum, but you are praying he won’t ask about it after you wake up. Have you really been acting strangely? Can he sense your emotions? Why is he still so close to you?

A brief pause.

“Goodnight,” you say again, eyes still wide open.

Why is he still awake?

“I can't sleep,” he whispers, as if reading your mind.

“Why not?” You ask, if only to distract yourself from the heap of internal conflict that runs rampant through your mind.

“I can tell you’re upset about something right now, and I wanna make sure you’re okay. You know I can’t rest if you’re not happy.”

“Really?” You keep your tone casual, remaining aloof in the face of his spot-on analysis. “What makes you think I’m upset?”

“... I don’t know. I can just feel it,” he replies with genuinity woven into the fabric of his voice.

“You can feel it,” you echo with the hope that your teasing timbre will lead to a more lighthearted conversation.

“Stop.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s a defense mechanism. You know that.”

“Soon-“

��You smile and accept my gifts and hugs, but you retract right after. You almost look… disgusted. So, is it me? Am I just a basket case that you can’t get rid of because you’re already in too deep? Are you lying when you say things like you rely on me, too, or you like that you're the one I come home to? Do you think I’m stupid? That I don’t remember what you said and then brushed off like it was nothing? Jumped to shove me into the car so I could go to bed and forget about it all the next day? Tell me what’s going on, because it feels like you’re playing with my heart.”

“No. It’s fine. I shouldn't have said anything.”

Soonyoung’s watery voice and the sniffle you hear after he speaks confirms that he is now crying. You aren’t sure what to do. Your mind is still stuck on some of the things he said.

‘I wonder if you feel the way that I do.’

‘It feels like you’re playing with my heart.’

“Soonyoung?”

“I do care,” you mumble. “I just don’t know how to express how much I care without going over the line.”

He finally speaks, his cheek leaving your chest. “If there’s a line, I’ve been walking it for a while.”

“Please stop speaking in metaphors; it’s confusing.”

“This is scary,” you hear Soonyoung say, the vibration of his voice felt through the small pocket of air between your lips. “But I couldn’t say it, so I had to show you.”

“You… Do you like me?”

Your brain is going at approximately one mile an hour, the shock of it all nearly slowing your thoughts to a halt.

“Soonyoung.”

“We’re idiots,” he says, but with the most jovial lilt to his voice.

“I think you’re correct,” you reply as your fingers trail down his arm and find his hand with yours. Your palm flattens against his and your fingers intertwine.

“I think you’re the only person that would kiss me back after I threw up an hour before.”

You blink. “Did you brush your teeth?”

“Of course. I’m not a monster.”

“Hey, Soonyoung?” He hums, chest rumbling under your head. “I would’ve kissed you even if you didn’t brush your teeth.”

He laughs. A yawn leaves you as fatigue sets in; both physical and emotional. “Is that your way of saying ‘I love you, too’?”

“I guess so. For now.”

“Gross.”

#peach.txt

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peachy-writings · 2 years

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omg just something random but i notice that a lot of readers add in tags “i have so much to say abt this / i could write a paragraph on why this fic was so good” and i just wanna like . give u guys a lil nudge that u should indeed write that paragraph or elaborate ur thoughts? even if u think it’s gonna sound sloppy?? or unorganized?? bc i guarantee that doesn’t matter to the author!! like we legit do not care we r just happy you enjoyed and are curious to know ur thoughts!! so if u find you’re one of those readers who has a lot to express abt a fic then i rly urge you to elaborate cuz it’s the best dose of motivation!

#!!

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peachy-writings · 2 years

Text

i miss the therapeutic run-on 100k word stories i used to write just for myself, purely because i loved writing but had no ideas that really lit a flame under me. some of my best plots came from sifting those piles of garbage, and all of those words helped me carve out the writing style i have now, years later. i want to go back to doing that. to lying in bed on the wattpad app, writing my little heart out with no end in sight.

i think exercises like this are important for writers, especially the ones that feel burnt out or pressured to have every sentence they write be the most profound sentence in existence. i encourage my fellow writers to choose their favorite blorbos, cliche plot ideas, etc. and just go absolutely bonkers in a google doc (or whatever you use), and continue writing in that doc daily if you can. just for fun.

you can delete it after you decide you’re done, you can snip bits and pieces you want to save for later, or you can realize that you’ve actually created a really amazing thing that just may need a little editing and dusting off before you present it to your community.

burn-out and pressure to be the Best Writer Ever are very real. finding ways to combat these feelings and get back to writing simply to bring oneself joy is important :)

#just some thoughts #i’m gonna try to get back to doing this so i can continue writing #even when i’m so tired from work i know it’ll all just be nonsense #writers #kpop writers #fanfic #fanfiction #peach.txt

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peachy-writings · 2 years

Note

just saw this, love u emmy 😘😘😘

Could you do first impressions of your moots please?

i'm only gonna do some ppl, not all bc i think a bunch of my moots are no longer active on here. i also cannot recall my first impression of many ppl lol, just that if i like u then i like u. if i dont then i dont follow back (so basically i liked all my moots from the start lmao)

@hyuckles-chuckles i was kinda intimidated at first bc she's a great writer (one of my favourites on here) and also a popular blog lol (back when i was a tiny blog) so when she followed me back i was like *@(&E*&^*@&*^%&^@%&@^@*!(!)&^%$#%$^&*

@daeguzen so kind and sweet!! one of the first writers i befriended on here i love them

@sunflowerhae first impression was that she is also very kind and a lovely person

@bumblebeenct ok i cant remember my first impression but i've always gotten vibes of the kind old grandma you meet at grocery stores who just starts a convo about food with u lol

@little-cold-hands , @merrycri-sis , @dreamflrt , @chicksung , @drydrops891 babies. all of them are babies.

@mxrcayong cant remember my first impression but she is now one of my bestest friends so i must have liked her a considerably large amount lol <33

@imoonstarstuff another very sweet and kind human

@ggulovebot so much positive energy from her that i loved her instantly lol

@kjmsupremacist very smart and big brain

@purpleheejin honestly i never thought she would be as insane as she is. i thought she was a nice kid on the internet but i was wrong lmao. shes my child tho so its ok <3

@neonun-au can't remember honestly but just that shes canadian. it's instinct for me to bond with any canadian on the internet lmao

@neo-shitty another big brain

@give-seconds i was kinda intimidated but thats bc im awkward af lmao

@leeyuhnotlaayah so nice and sweet!!! and also a very kind older sister

@yoonohing so supportive!!! and nice and kind blah blah (i feel like im saying the same thing for everyone ahsjsajkjksa)

@peachy-writings another big brain, and also a very nice person!!

ok yeah looking back on it im just saying the same thing for everyone but really my first impression of all my moots was that they all seem like great, kind ppl and/or produce great content. i only really follow blogs of writers i enjoy reading content from, or followers/readers that interact with my stuff often (and that i've ended up befriending eventually too). some moots just spam reblog things their interested in or memes and even tho idk anything i still enjoy looking at it haha so really i just follow based on whether i like u or not. i dont actively seek out blogs anymore (i havent in over a year) so really everyones just old moots or recent readers.

anyways lol so in conclusion we learned that i love all my moots!! <3 hope that answers ur ask lol

#moots.tag

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peachy-writings · 2 years

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the she’s the boss album got me feelin like

#mututals please listen to the boyz’s new japanese album it’s a certified no skip album in my book #why why why has singlehandedly gotten me through 6 days of 8 hours shifts in a row istg #the boyz #she’s the boss #tbz

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peachy-writings · 2 years

Text

this is so sweet 🥹🥹 thank u, i’m so glad u enjoy my writing and i hope u get some rest lol 💕

For Now | Kwon Soonyoung

Prompt via @svtwritenight: Hit shuffle on a playlist/album you haven’t listened to in a while. Use the first line of the song as your first line

↳ Love - Syd ft. Dean “You give me something I need in my life.” & Even If It Hurts - Tei Shi ft. Blood Orange “What did you expect from me?”

Member: BFF!Kwon Soonyoung

Content: Angst; Some fluff; Humor; Friends to Lovers; GN Reader; 5.4k words

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol; Soonyoung litters; Brief mentions of vomiting; Illusions to being drunk/tipsy

Masterlist

“You give me something I need in my life.”

“Sure. Say one more sappy thing and I’ll leave your sorry-ass here,” you groan out, eyeing the clearly drunk man beside you that just so happens to be your best friend.

“Hello. Not to sound rude, but who are you?”

His dejected expression turned into a flat out deadpan at your words. So, you weren’t very smooth, or as empathetic as you’d initially thought upon approaching him…

An eyebrow rose and you reached out to take the flowers he held out. But then he pulled them away and smirked at you in a strangely aloof manner. You nearly scoffed.

“On second thought, I think I deserve these more. How do you feel now?” His eyes gazed at you with a certain tenacity that shocked you.

“I guess I feel a little like you do right now,” you answered genuinely, folding your arms and watching as he looked up at you with a slow blink.

“Well, you’d be correct in that assumption.”

“Can I sit?”

“So, what’s the story? A no-show date, proposal gone wrong?” You asked as you let your fingers rub a velvety petal that had detached from one of the flowers.

“First one,” he responded, elbows planted on his thighs with his chin in his hands. His head turned so that he could look at you when he spoke.

You acknowledged his words with a deep hum. “I’m guessing… third date?”

“First.”

“Damn.”

“Right?”

A dry look was exchanged between the two of you before he smiled and sat up. “Alright, then. Wanna go eat something?”

“Are you asking me on a date, person-that-I-don’t-even-know-the-name-of?” You crooned humorously.

Soonyoung promptly snatched the bouquet from its place in your lap, walked over to the railing on the edge of the low cliff, and chucked it into the ocean as if shooting a basketball.

Not that you don’t enjoy pretending as if you are the apple of his eye in those moments.

Not that you’d ever give him an inkling as to the growing feelings you harbor for him.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” He asks, bottom lip jutting out a bit to display his sudden shift in mood.

“Of what?”

“Of dealing with me?”

“But I never do things for you. You never ask me for help with anything. I’m useless in this relationship.” He raises his hands and then slaps his thighs to punctuate his statement.

You shake your head at him, mentally counting the amount of drinks he’s had before deciding that he’s drunk enough to probably—hopefully—not remember what you say next.

His lips part to respond, but then you stand up and he shuts his mouth, blinking at you in an admittedly adorable manner.

“C’mon. Let’s go.”

“We’re going home?”

“Yup. Get up.” You usher him along with a roll of your wrist.

When he finally slides off of his barstool, he grabs onto your arm and gives you a look that nearly melts your heart. “Can we go to your home?”

“Yes, Soonyoung.”

You suppose that having him by your side, as you’d told him before, is enough.

You tell yourself that it is enough.

“What did you expect from me?” Soonyoung asks, a little smirk curling the edges of his lips as he holds an ice-cream cone in both hands.

“Hey, I’m not gonna judge you for your lifestyle,” you respond, holding your hands up in defense.

Soonyoung crawls into the spot next to you, laying on his belly and burying his face in a pillow. A long pause comes and passes.

“It was the fifty cent ice-cream, wasn’t it?”

“If I say ‘yes’, you’re just gonna make fun of me.”

“Of course I will,” you reply with a faux warmth that has him pouting up at you.

With one final look at his peaceful face, you heft yourself off of the bed and go to turn off the light.

“Where are you going?”

“Goodnight,” you breathe, even though you are on your back, staring wide eyed at the ceiling. Or trying to, at least, as it’s too dark to see much of anything now.

“What’s wrong?” He simpers, and you want to bury yourself in your blankets and scream at the softness of his voice.

“It’s late; you should go to sleep, Soonyoung.”

You feel the bed shift, hear the blankets rustle as he moves. And then he’s in your ear. “You’ve been acting weird today. What is it?”

“Were you lying about what you said at the bar?” He asks when you don’t answer his previous question.

“Soonyoung… I-I’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine, fine,” he finally digresses, “but you better tell me.”

You hum, but you are praying he won’t ask about it after you wake up. Have you really been acting strangely? Can he sense your emotions? Why is he still so close to you?

A brief pause.

“Goodnight,” you say again, eyes still wide open.

Why is he still awake?

“I can't sleep,” he whispers, as if reading your mind.

“Why not?” You ask, if only to distract yourself from the heap of internal conflict that runs rampant through your mind.

“I can tell you’re upset about something right now, and I wanna make sure you’re okay. You know I can’t rest if you’re not happy.”

“Really?” You keep your tone casual, remaining aloof in the face of his spot-on analysis. “What makes you think I’m upset?”

“... I don’t know. I can just feel it,” he replies with genuinity woven into the fabric of his voice.

“You can feel it,” you echo with the hope that your teasing timbre will lead to a more lighthearted conversation.

“Stop.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s a defense mechanism. You know that.”

“Soon-“

“No. It’s fine. I shouldn't have said anything.”

Soonyoung’s watery voice and the sniffle you hear after he speaks confirms that he is now crying. You aren’t sure what to do. Your mind is still stuck on some of the things he said.

‘I wonder if you feel the way that I do.’

‘It feels like you’re playing with my heart.’

“Soonyoung?”

“I do care,” you mumble. “I just don’t know how to express how much I care without going over the line.”

He finally speaks, his cheek leaving your chest. “If there’s a line, I’ve been walking it for a while.”

“Please stop speaking in metaphors; it’s confusing.”

“This is scary,” you hear Soonyoung say, the vibration of his voice felt through the small pocket of air between your lips. “But I couldn’t say it, so I had to show you.”

“You… Do you like me?”

Your brain is going at approximately one mile an hour, the shock of it all nearly slowing your thoughts to a halt.

“Soonyoung.”

“We’re idiots,” he says, but with the most jovial lilt to his voice.

“I think you’re correct,” you reply as your fingers trail down his arm and find his hand with yours. Your palm flattens against his and your fingers intertwine.

“I think you’re the only person that would kiss me back after I threw up an hour before.”

You blink. “Did you brush your teeth?”

“Of course. I’m not a monster.”

“Hey, Soonyoung?” He hums, chest rumbling under your head. “I would’ve kissed you even if you didn’t brush your teeth.”

He laughs. A yawn leaves you as fatigue sets in; both physical and emotional. “Is that your way of saying ‘I love you, too’?”

“I guess so. For now.”

“Gross.”

#made my day #especially after being mia for more than a minute and logging on to see this #*crie*#reviews

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