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mai-sau · 4 years

Note

prompt 2 with kidnap dads?

thank u so much for prompting!! i hope u like it!

i am so weak for kidnap fam i love them so much... i picture this taking place like maybe 2-3 years into living together. like, long enough that there’s genuine bonds that have grown between them, but still also relatively close to the kinslaying (also i may or may not have referenced the first russingon prompt i did no need for context though!! just gotta... slide in those beloved interpersonal relationships)

i am also. so sorry, this ended up being, almost 2k words, im so sowwy, i hope u enjoy this uninterrupted bout of kidnap fam self indulgence

Prompt: “Please don’t hide from me.”

As any other night since they had arrived, the halls of Amon Ereb were nestled in shadow and silence. At times, Maglor preferred the sorely needed serenity. And at others - like tonight - he found himself staring at his own dull ceiling, echoes and whispers suffocating his very mind as the muggy summer heat did the same to his lungs. What might have been, what already was, what frightfully will be... Silence was, unfortunately, a gifted listener.

Mostly, it was fine: he would just make it through until morning, and the lingering exhaustion would put him to sleep the next night. It was fine.

A shriek pierced the air.

Maglor could not help it - every muscle in his body tensed. Memories buffeted him like a frozen hail, every vein turning to ice; dozens of shrieks, screams, cries joined the echoes in miserable cacophony. This only lasted a moment; a lifetime of battle (murder) sprung him into action quickly enough.

Kicking off the sheets sticking to his legs, Maglor raced towards the door. He threw on his boots, grabbed his sword, and was dashing through the hall in the blink of an eye. As he careened full tilt through the halls - where did it come from, who was hurt, who was bleeding, who was dying - he heard Maedhros’ door slam open as well. Maglor did not need to check to see if he followed; an instinct forged through years of battle together, he could feel his brother’s presence at his side, knew the nimble footfalls that trailed his.

Another cry sounded from the dark - this one sounding more like a wail, than anything else. Maglor froze. “That sounded like-” he gasped.

“-the twins’ room.” Maedhros confirmed, eyes grim. If anything, Maglor could see him grip his blade tighter. He felt too sick to think on it.

Without another word, they took off. They reached the twins’ door, and with a single glance between them, threw it open. Each held their blade at the ready.

The room was dark, like the rest of the fortress. From what moonlight streamed through the window, Maglor could make out a tiny figure huddled up on one of the beds. The other was empty. As he slowly came closer, he could make out the wide-eyed face of Elrond.

Lowering - but not putting away - his sword, Maglor eased into the gentlest voice he could despite the panic pumping through his veins. “Elrond,” he beckoned. “Sweetheart, where’s Elros? Are you two alright?”

Elrond merely sniffled and rubbed a little fist through his weeping face.

Maglor felt Maedhros pass him. His brother kneeled down in front of Elrond, and lowered his sword to the floor. Maglor knew him well enough to sense that he should not do the same.

“Elrond,” Maedhros said. “You are not in trouble. We’re just worried about you and your brother, and want to make sure you’re safe. Is that alright?”

Shakily, Elrond nodded.

“Okay,” Maedhros continued. “Are you hurt?”

Elrond shook his head. His body was still trembling all over.

“That’s good,” Maedhros said. “Is Elros hurt?”

Elrond burst into a fresh wave of sobs.

Maedhros shot Maglor a panicked glance. Maglor walked up and took his brother’s place by the bed, Maedhros seamlessly rising to his feet to switch out. At this distance, Maglor could see Elrond’s face clearly in the moonlight: ruddy and wet with tears. Maglor’s chest clenched. Elrond raised fearful eyes to meet Maglor’s and - oh. He could hardly bear it. He longed to run away from the bed, away from the proof of their failures, away from the echoes building to a crescendo in his skull. His heart felt sick.

But - no. No.

He cannot run. He must face this, he must face them. And they are more than echoes. They are the two wonderful boys who came into his life, two of the last lights left in it. By Eru, he would see them cherished and cared for, though he did not deserve that privilege with all the wrongs he’s done.

My wrongs do not matter, Maglor chastised himself. Only their wounds.

“Sweetheart,” Maglor murmured. “If Elros is hurt, we want to take care of him. We’ll heal him, whatever may be the problem. I…” He trailed off, before meeting Elrond’s tear-stricken eyes. “I promise.”

Elrond regarded him for a moment. Gradually, his tremors calmed, and he reached a small hand out to grasp Maglor’s, resting on the bedside. “He’s in the dresser.”

Maglor blinked. “The dresser?”

Elrond nodded. “He woke up screaming.”

It was Maedhros, not Maglor, who spoke first. “I see,” Maedhros said. “Thank you for telling us, Elrond.”

Maglor watched his brother walk over to the dresser, and now listening closely he could hear the barest of muffled whimpers come from its direction. He stayed by the bed and squeezed Elrond’s hand.

Maedhros knelt down in front of the dresser. He put down his sword, both brothers’ blades now on the stone floor. “Elros,” he called softly to the wooden doors. “Elros, you are in Amon Ereb. You are safe. You are loved.” He swallowed thickly before continuing in the same steady tone. “You may come out whenever you wish, though I will stay right here if you need me.”

“Is it alright if I talk with you? I’ll stay out here.” Maedhros asked gently.

“...okay,” the dresser answered.

“You know,” Maedhros started. “I used to wake up in the middle of the night all the time too. I still do, sometimes. My dreams scared me so much, and even when I was awake and knew it was all a dream, I was still very upset.” He closed his eyes, breathed once, twice, and continued. “I had someone who helped me calm down, though. For me, even if it didn’t make everything alright again, the help made me feel a lot better.”

“It… it did?” the dresser asked.

“Yes, it did.” Maedhros assured. “I can’t promise it’ll be the same, but if you would like, I can try my best to help.”

There was a beat of silence, before the dresser answered in a small voice, “Okay.”

“Would you like to open the door? It’s okay if you would rather it stay closed.”

The dresser creaked open and a tiny halfelven face, streaked with tears, peeked out the crack. “Only this much,” Elros said, voice uncertain as if he wasn’t sure whether his warning would be heeded. His little fingers shook around their grip on the door.

“Only that much,” Maedhros assented.

“Okay. Good.” Elros muttered. His hand retreated into the dresser.

“Would you like to talk about your dream at all? If you don’t want to, we can talk about something else.”

There was a long pause. Maedhros patiently waited on the floor, while Maglor marveled at his brother’s demeanor. It was like - it was like when Maedhros comforted Tyelko over a scraped knee, or Curufin over a burned finger, but slightly different. Sadder, and yet somehow kinder.

“You’ll get mad,” Elros finally whimpered.

“I won’t judge you, Elros,” Maedhros said. “I won’t be mad at you.”

There was another long pause, long enough that Maglor expected Maedhros to switch angles any moment now, until -

“It was about our home. Ada and Nana’s. There was lots of screaming. A lot of people on the floor. And we were hiding, but they found us, and there was a - a sword at my neck, and Elrond’s too, and Nana jumped, and the sword it - my neck -” Elros broke off, gasping out the words. “Sorry, I don’t - I know you’re good, so why am I so scared?”

Maglor couldn’t help it: even comforting Elrond, who had gone quiet by now, he sucked in a sharp breath between his teeth. Maedhros, too, looked similarly stunned. Eventually, though, his posture relaxed again, though his eyes shone with tears. Raising his left hand, he steadily wiped them away.

“You have every right to feel that way, Elros,” Maedhros told him, voice no less kind. “And it’s perfectly normal. We did an - an unspeakable thing that day, and hurt you two in the process. Though I am -” Maedhros paused, grasping for the right words, “- endeared, that you think well of us, we also did awful things, and that is a part of us too.”

“Though Maglor and I would never want to hurt you, and we will do everything in our power to keep you both safe and happy, you’re allowed to not like us too.” Maedhros rubbed at his stump, absentmindedly smoothing over the sleeve. “It’s okay to be scared.”

“But I don’t,” Elros said softly. “I don’t not like you.” He fell silent for a moment. “I love you,” he confessed, voice barely a whisper. “It’s just that I have these dreams, and I get scared. And sometimes I’m mad.”

“That’s okay too,” Maedhros assured him. “If you ever want to talk to us, we will be right here. And if you - either of you - ever want me and Maglor to go, if you would feel more comfortable if we gave you space, you are more than allowed to ask. We would love you all the same. Even if you need the space because you are angry with us, or upset, that’s okay. We would rather you get what you need instead of trying to hide it.” Maedhros pleaded. “Please don’t hide from us.”

A heavy silence sat in the air. “Would you like us to go, dear?” Maglor asked, finally finding his voice.

The door shot open. A tiny, sniffling elfling jumped out. Elros wrapped his arms firmly around Maedhros, and squeezed as tight as he could. “Please stay,” he begged, voice muffled by Maedhros’ nightshirt.

Maedhros’ eyes softened as he wrapped his arms around Elros. Gently, he smoothed over Elros’ sweat-matted hair with his left hand. “Of course,” he said. “If that is what you want.”

Face still pressed into the nightshirt, Elros nodded.

Maglor turned back to Elrond. “What about you, darling? Anything you want.”

Elrond released his hand. And promptly tackled him with a hug as well. “Can you stay?” He asked. “Can you stay with us for tonight? Even though… I think I might ask to be alone sometimes,” He added.

“That’s perfectly alright, dear,” Maglor said, picking up and placing him on his hip as he rose. “Maedhros, are there any spare blankets?”

“Yes,” Maedhros huffed with a small grin. “If the Dresser Guardian shall let me pass, that is,” he teased. Elros giggled, standing aside. He still held on to Maedhros’ hand.

Maedhros fished out the blankets and laid them on the floor. Soon enough, he and Maglor were nestled in their makeshift beddings alongside the beds, which the twins were tucked into with a murmured “I love you,” and kiss pressed to each of their heads.

Maglor laid on top of his blankets, surrounded once again by nothing but the warm summer air. As he gazed at the moonlight spilling across the ceiling, his eyelids grew heavy, before closing.

All was silent.

#kidnap dads #maglor #maedhros #elrond #elros #silmarillion #writing prompts #jaz-the-bard #my writing #fun fact: i almost wrote ‘or amras with a burned finger’ until i went oh. oh #and changed it msksksksksksmss #im sure curufin got burned practicing his jewelcrafting akskskskwehj

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ptersparkers · 5 years

Text

hi, peter parker

summary: the four nights spider-man visited your window and the one time he stayed.

a/n: this has been in my drafts since early 2018 and i am in love with peter parker. anyways im so grateful to get to hear back from you guys and i love seeing messages from you lot!!

warnings: none, just fluff

masterlist / taglist

To think you had said no to a night out.

You sighed and looked at your phone, your friend Taylor sending you a video via snapchat wishing you were at a friend’s house party. Initially you had declined because of a stressful week at school, but now you were bored out of your mind.

‘Sorry, Tay,’ you texted. ‘Maybe next time.’

Your phone’s clock read three minutes until midnight and you figured it would be best to sleep. You scoffed at the thought of resting when your body’s clock was rendered to stay up until four in the morning - what you had been doing some nights to study for upcoming AP tests. Now that that was out of the way, it’s like your body couldn’t fall asleep until well after midnight.

You groaned to yourself and switched on the small light by your bed. The light was dim enough so it wouldn’t bother the neighbors across from your apartment. Your eyes were closed for a total of, what felt like a millisecond, before you heard knocking on your window.

“What in the world?” you muttered. You stood up from your bed and immediately saw a red mask greet you.

“Hey there! I know this is weird, but you’re the only window with the light on and I really need to stop before I fall. There’s a whole bunch of houses and I need to fix my web shooters,” said the man in the mask, which you knew to be Spider-Man.

You stared at him, unable to comprehend what you were about to do. “Oh, um, sure,” you said before opening your window. You stepped aside and let him in. Spider-Man crawled through your window and landed effortlessly on the carpet, not making a sound.

“That was almost graceful,” you commented. “I’m pretty sure my mom would’ve thought I snuck out.”

“Do you sneak out?” he asked.

“Nah. I’m too lame to try. Do you want water or anything?” He shook his head.

“No, I just need someplace to fix my web shooters. I think they got jammed,” he replied.

“Okay, cool,” you said awkwardly, balancing from one foot to the other.

“Can I sit on your bed?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Do you have a small pick by any chance?”

“I have tweezers?”

“I guess that’ll do.”

You fetched tweezers from your makeup vanity and gave them to him. He instantaneously began working on his web shooters as you stood and watched. His head shot up and he faced you.

“I’m sorry, I never introduced myself. I’m Spider-Man,” he said, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N,” you replied. “Welcome to my humble abode.”i

“Thanks! I really like the board above your bed with all the polaroids. It looks so neat that I fear I might mess it up from all the way over here.”

You laughed and sat beside him. “I’ve been obsessed with taking polaroids for two years now. I made it a point to capture the best memories and fix them into some sort of memory board so I can remember the good times.”

“That’s smart. I wish I was artistic and creative, but I can barely draw a straight line with a ruler,” he said. You watched as he worked and sat in silence for a moment.

“Say, do these web shooters get stuck all the time?”

“Not usually, I just think I haven’t really been able to update them or clean them out. I’ve been busy with all this ‘saving the little guy’ stuff,” he said.

“Is it fun? Being Spider-Man, I mean. You’re practically an Avenger,” you asked.

“I’m technically not an Avenger. Well, not yet. I’ve been working with Mr. Stark for a little bit, but it’s mostly keeping Queens safe for now.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a serious job on your hands.”

You could see the eyes on his mask move like he was smiling underneath. “Yeah, I do. I’m glad people can understand that.”

“So, what kind of things do you do on your day off? I’m sure you’re not always swinging around and hanging out in the homes of strangers.”

He laughs. “No, not really. I don’t know, I hang out with friends sometimes.”

You thought about asking him more, but decided against it. His life outside of being Spider-Man was his own.

“Wow, that sounds pretty mundane. I do pretty much the same, except school’s almost over and I have a month until summer break,” you replied. Spider-Man hands you back your tweezers and fixes the web shooters back on his suit.

“Any fun plans for the summer?”

“As of right now, no, but who’s to say?”

Spider-Man laughed and walked towards your window. “I’m sure you’ll find something fun to do. Thanks again, Y/N.”

“See ya!” you say as you watch him exit the window and swing away.

Summer was just around the corner. It was another Friday night and you had decided against studying for finals because it seemed that that was all you did in your free time. The sky was getting dark out and you decided to stay in bed tonight and binge watch shows on Netflix, turning your phone on silent. You had enough snacks to last you the entire night and popped your headphones in, pressing play.

It wasn’t long before you heard tapping on your window. Curiously, you stood from your bed and saw Spider-Man.

“You again,” you said playfully as you opened up the window. “What do you need this time?”

“Honestly? I think I need a little break,” he said. “I’d also love to take this suit off, but my identity is something I’d like to keep hidden for a little while.”

“That’s fine,” you replied. “I’m not really in a rush. Not that you need to tell me who you are or anything, ugh, you get what I mean.”

Spider-Man laughed and pointed at your window and you nodded, watching as he climbed his way through.

“Can you even breathe in that thing?” you asked, pointing at his mask.

“Oh, yeah! It’s a breathable material and lets oxygen pass so I’m not always suffocating myself. That’s how I’m able to keep the mask on at all times.”

“Interesting,” you said, sitting on your chair by your desk as he took a seat on your bed.

“Studying for finals?”

“More like procrastinating. Well, all I do is study and I deserve a break,” you said.

“That you do. Final season is coming up and I’m dreading having to -”

“Wait, you’re in school?” you asked, interrupting his speech.

Spider-Man looked at the ground, the walls, and anywhere but your gaze.

“I, uh, yeah?” he said with uncertainty, scratching the back of his neck.

“If you think I’m going to look all over Queens to find out which school you go to, I’m letting you know now that I won’t. That seems like too much effort and for all I know, that isn’t your actual voice,” you replied, twirling a pen in your hand.

“Phew, thank you,” said Spider-Man, pretending to wipe sweat off of his forehead. “Damn, all of this swinging made me really hungry.”

“You should try the deli down there. It’s called Delmar’s and it’s my favorite sandwich shop. Also, asked for the sandwiches to be smushed! Don’t ask me why, but it tastes better,” you said.

Spider-Man went silent for a moment and you cocked your head to the side, thinking you either said something wrong or he was just really hungry.

“What?”

Spider-Man shook his head. “Nothing, nothing. I’ll be sure to try your suggestion. Anyway, I’ll see you soon!”

And with that, you saw red and blue flying in the wind.

iii

You were half asleep with your headphones in your ears when you heard a faint ‘thwip.’ Your parents were fast asleep and you had willed yourself to watch one more episode of Law and Order: SVU before getting sleep for your final. Currently, you were on your side with one earbud in (the other having fallen out, but you didn’t care much) and the voice of Olivia Benson could be faintly heard from the volume that could put you to sleep.

You stirred slightly, but not enough to wake you up fully.

Then came a knock on your window. Once. Twice. Three times. You yawned and rolled over to see Spider-Man standing outside your window with nothing but the moon behind him to illuminate your room. You threw the covers off of you and rubbed the sleep away from your eyes, opening the window for him to come in. With it, the chilly wind did not welcome you warmly and you grabbed a sweatshirt from your closet.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said sheepishly.

You waved him off. “It’s okay, Spider-Man. I like your company and you’re probably the only person who I couldn’t bring myself to yell at.”

He put his hands of his heart. “Wow, I’m so touched.”

“You should be,” you said, climbing into the covers and resting your back against your bed frame. “What brings you to this part of Queens at this ungodly hour?”

“It’s only nine thirty,” Spider-Man deadpanned. You shrugged.

“What can I say? A girl really needs her beauty sleep before her last final.” Spider-Man’s autonomic eyes seemed to narrow as if her were in thought.

“Oh shoot, that’s tomorrow? I’m sorry for bothering you,” he apologized. You laughed and shook your head, patting the bed for him to rest on. Spider-Man gently put his knees on the mattress and situated himself so he was laying on his side, looking at you.

“It’s okay, Spidey. You already know I love your company. Besides, it’s only nine thirty,” you mocked. Spider-Man laughed and the room fell into a comfortable silence. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing really,” he began, but you looked at him with a knowing expression. “Okay, a lot but that’s for another day when we have more time. I’m just thinking how lucky I am to have you in my life and I’m grateful it was you whose room I stumbled into and not some mean old lady.”

“I’m happy you came here too,” you confessed. “This is probably gonna sound weird but...your visits are something I look forward to. I don’t know, I just feel like I opened up to you much quicker than any of the friends I have at school.”

“I feel the same way,” he said, sighing. “I don’t know, it’s just hard being two people at the same time. Even though you don’t know my real name yet, you know more about me than anyone else does.”

“And that’s something I will cherish forever,” you said, stroking his cheek with your hand. “I’m really happy I met you.”

“I can say the same,” he replied. But before he could make himself more comfortable, Spider-Man pushed himself off of the bed and adjusted his web shooters before seeing that you had tucked yourself in. Spider-Man smiled and his autonomic eyes grew wider as he bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You could barely feel his lips.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You groaned, slamming your door shut and planted your face into a pillow, wanting to forget the world had ever existed. It was a hot summer night and your mother had just let you know that she and your father would be staying at a friend’s for the week, but that you couldn’t join them this time. You probably should’ve been happy to have the apartment alone, but the last thing you wanted to be was alone.

Spider-Man hadn’t come by your apartment in nearly a month and you had started to grow increasingly worried about the boy who you couldn’t get out of your mind. Every time you thought about the possibility of dating, you immediately shook that out of your head for two reasons: the first being he’s a superhero and you were a regular New York citizen, and the fact that you didn’t know his name or what he looked like. You’d never pressure him, but that didn’t mean you were dying to know.

The sun was almost set when your parents left and you hadn’t had the decency to move from where you flung yourself. There was a tapping sound from the window and you knew who it was.

“It’s open!” you mumbled from your pillow, where you had curled yourself so you could continue in your self wallowing.

“Who dragged the cat in?” Spider-Man asked with a chuckle. You looked at him as if you hadn’t seen him in years and got off of your bed, letting your arms snake its way around him. With a sigh, you closed your eyes and let yourself revel in this moment. “You okay?”

“I was worried,” you said quietly. “You usually go no more than a few days of being gone but it’s been nearly a month, and I know I don’t have any right to worry, and that you were probably really busy, but I was really worried.” Spider-Man let out a soft chuckle and held your body closer to his, letting his chin rest on top of your head.

“You have every right to be worried, Y/N. I’m touched that you care so much. I-I’ve been a little stressed with my personal life and haven’t been able to patrol as often and I didn’t have much energy to swing to your place. I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s okay,” you replied. “I’m just relieved to find out you aren’t dead.”

Spider-Man laughed. “Say, what are your parents gonna think if they find me in your room?”

“Well, they’re gone this week so there’s no way that’s happening.”

“Oh, well lucky me, I guess,” he said nonchalantly as he let himself rest on your bed. He plopped himself in the middle, his back resting against the mattress as you chuckled. “Come lay with me.”

You didn’t say anything as you climbed next to him and willed yourself not to put your entire body on him, but Spider-Man pulled you to his side and held you tight.

“I had this nightmare that you needed me and I couldn’t save you,” said Spider-Man. “I was in a really weird place and felt like I couldn’t leave my house but last night was the last straw. You were falling and I couldn’t save you. I needed to see you again just to make sure.

His voice got weaker and you put your head on his chest, finding his hand to squeeze it to let him know you understood.

“Sometimes I think this gig is too much for me. I feel like I shouldn’t have been given these abilities but at the same time, I’m grateful for all the things it’s given me. Like you.”

“I’m here,” you whispered.

You both stared at the ceiling for a while, basking in each other’s company. You would faintly feel his heart beating through his suit and he was rubbing soothing circling on your hip with his thumb.

“You know,” you said, hesitantly while propping yourself up with your elbows. “You could stay for the night since my parents are gone.” Your eyes widened as soon as you said it. “I-I mean that in the most innocent way possible.”

Spider-Man laughed and looked at you with his autonomic eyes, letting a comfortable moment pass as he thought about your offer.

“I think I’d have to let some people know I’d be safe first, but I’d like that.”

It grew quiet between you two and you didn’t know what was to come next. Slowly, you moved your body to sit up and he followed suit, wondering what you were planning.

“Do you trust me?” you asked.

“I trust you,” he confirmed. You moved your hand towards his mask and you could already sense his body tense up, especially when you moved the mask up his face. You stopped for a brief moment, but he didn’t stop you. You kept lifting the mask until it rest gently above his nose and leaned in to place your lips on his.

The kiss was gentle and searing at the same time, like you both had been wanting to do something for a while but hadn’t until that very moment. It was passionate and innocent, slow and fast. It wasn’t rushed; you held his jaw with both hands, afraid that he was going to leave the second you pulled away. His lips moved in conjunction with yours and didn’t part until you both ran out of air.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a while,” he said, not bothering to pull his mask down. You laughed and looked at him as he took off his web shooters and pulled his mask off his face.

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker.”

To say you were surprised was an understatement. Spider-Man was cute.

“Holy shit, you’re hot,” you whispered more to yourself. Peter laughed and your cheeks developed a pink tint.

“I happen to think you’re also hot,” Peter said with a chuckle before pressing another kiss to your lips.

“Hi, Peter Parker,” you said with a grin.

“Hi, Y/N Y/L/N,” he said with a grin equally as big.

“I don’t really know what I imagined under the mask, but you’re much cuter than what I had expected,” you said. “Let me go get some of my brother’s extra clothes. He lives in Los Angeles now but we still have some of his stuff!”

Peter smiled at you as you walked out of your bedroom and took the time to look around, letting himself bask in the moment that was pure bliss. How you were going to introduce him to your parents, he didn’t know. But Peter knew he didn’t want to let you go any time soon.

***

Taglist

@kath94210 @sessi03 @olliekookie @edgyhargreeves @simonsbluee @meraki--me @sleep-i-ness

#peter parker #my writing #hi peter parker

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lovelylogans · 4 years

Text

recurring dream

the odd thing about recurring dreams is that, no matter how many times you dream the same thing, it always takes you by surprise.

—david small

part of the wyliwf verse.

the sideshire files | read my other fics | coffee?

warnings: mentions of a pregnancy scare, food mentions

pairings: moxiety

words: 2,435

notes: based super heavily on the s3 opener of gilmore girls, but this takes place when patton’s about nineteen/twenty. references a flashback in chapter nine of wyliwf.

brIIIIIIIIIIIIIING—

patton groans, barely bothering to lift his head from the pillow, and moves to smash his hand against the alarm clock again, and again, and again, until finally he manages to bop it against the right one that would allow him to return to that blissful, wonderful, thoughtless, quiet haze of sleep.

he sighs as he adjusts slightly, getting comfortable again. nice. silent. peaceful.

BWAHHH, BWAHHH, BWAHH, BWAHHH, BWAHH, BWAHH and DING DING DING and EH-EH-EH-EH-EH and even a cuckoo! cuckoo! cuckoo! cuckoo! cuckoo! and patton groans as loudly as he can over the true, chaotic cacophony, barely catching a blurry glimpse of the halo of alarm clocks surrounding his bedside before he briefly attempts silencing via pillow suffocation.

it doesn’t work. stupid alarm clocks. stupid consciousness.

so patton has to get to his feet and shut off the eighteen—eighteen!—alarm clocks that have been stashed around his room. there’s some on his nightstand, and some on the other one, and some on the dresser, and some in the closet, and even a couple in the bathroom. there’s one in the shower, for goodness’ sake, and patton huffs irritably as he shuts it off.

that better be the last one. how did they even have that many clocks with timers on them???

he stomps down the stairs, grumpily ignoring his beautiful little house, the slanting, golden light of summer illuminating the yellow walls, sending everything into a soft, dreamy glow, glancing off picture frames and bringing out the colors in his knitted blankets thrown along the couches and armchairs and that one rocking chair in the corner. he’s talking even before he enters the kitchen.

“okay, see, when i say tomorrow, no matter what, make sure i get up at seven, what i mean is, tomorrow, no matter what, make sure i have the option of getting up at seven, perhaps waking me up, oh, i don’t know, with a shake of the shoulder, a poke—“

“papa!” logan says, wiggling, and patton quickly takes him into his arms before he can squirm right onto the ground, continuing to talk even after a quick kiss pressed to logan’s chubby little two, nearly-three-year-old cheek.

“—because making loud noises when people are trying to rest is rude, isn’t it, logan?” patton says, and logan nods vociferously.

“yeah, you’re asking the toddler,” virgil says, amused, now that his arms are free from holding logan he’s fully able to move to scramble the eggs, and patton pulls a face at him, adjusting logan in his arms.

“logan hasn’t woken me up with noisy noises since he was very little, and he gets a pass because he was a baby then,” patton says.

“m’not a baby anymore,” logan says. “i’m a big boy.”

“that you are,” patton agrees, moving to deposit logan in his booster seat at the table before he digs out the ceramic pot that he keeps coffee grounds in and takes in an appreciative inhale and—

he narrows his eyes at virgil, suspiciously. “this is decaf.”

“what are you talking about?” virgil says, brusque, but patton is onto him, he can tell that virgil’s trying to pretend he’s focusing more on the eggs when he’s actually trying to avoid patton’s stare.

“you switched my coffee,” patton says, already rattling around the kitchen to try and shift things out of the way to find it, “again.”

“i’m a busy man,” virgil scoffs, as patton peeks in the walnut cabinets, on his tiptoes because virgil will use his height against patton, and rattles open the silverware drawer, before he traverses to the next counter, and the next. “i’ve got a diner run, i have shipments to order, i have this breakfast to serve and will you stop that—?”

but he’s cut off by patton’s crow of victory, as he yanks out the ziplock bag full of grounds out from under the sink.

“ha ha!” patton cries. “under the sink, better than the freezer, clever, even, but not clever enough. you can’t stop the sniffer!”

“daddy found it,” logan says. “daddy wins!”

patton turns to gawk, jokingly, at virgil. “did you involve my son in this conspiracy?”

“hey, i’m trying to provide a good example,” virgil says defensively. “just one day without coffee. one!”

“daddy wins, daddy wins,” logan says. “told you!”

“told him what?” patton asks, as he scoops the right grounds into the machine.

“hide’n’seek,” logan says. “you’re the best.”

“guess so,” patton says, turning to see logan, hair illuminated by that same morning glow, “but i learned it from you, because you’re the best!”

“hey, one cup,” virgil says sternly, and patton sighs, theatrical, before he adjusts his grounds so that each of them will have one cup, and kicks on the machine, hearing it sputter to life.

“seriously,” virgil says. “i’m trying to pass this on to logan, he’s impressionable.”

“what’s immm-pressable mean?” logan asks.

“im-pres-sion-a-ble,” virgil sounds out. “it means your dad should set a better example so that you learn that too much caffeine is bad. can you say it with me? too much caffeine bad.”

“caffy bad,” logan parrots loyally, and patton jokingly smacks at virgil’s wrist.

“i am allowed one cup, you know,” patton says teasingly. “you’re being too protective here, papa bear.”

virgil sighs, hand briefly skittering over patton’s belly, like it’s practically a habit, making patton’s heart swell, before he passes over a plate and carts logan’s over to put in front of him directly before he checks the coffee machine.

“okay, so, you’re both up, you’re fed, i’ll probably get going,” virgil says, zipping up his hoodie and nudging down his sleeves from where they’d been pushed up, before pouring himself a thermos.

“oh, we need cotton balls!” patton says, as even the smell of coffee is starting to kick his brain on.

“cotton balls, right,” virgil says. “anything else?”

“um,” patton says, wracking his brains. “i think some am-jay, for Our Friend—“

—virgil looks amused, but really, logan’s picked up on how to spell jam, so he’s stuck with pig latin here—

“—q-tips, wouldn’t mind some world peace, if you can manage it.”

“i’ll give it my best shot. should be home early,” virgil says, and bends to kiss the top of logan’s head before he leans in and presses a kiss to patton’s mouth, before he murmurs, “bye, caffeine-crazy,” against patton’s lips and patton smiles against his mouth, tugging lightly at his lapel to tug him in for another one, hoping against hope—

“papa gross,” logan complains, and patton and virgil pull apart just enough, patton grinning up at him a little sheepishly.

“he learned it from raf, i think,” patton says. and really, expecting to get away with a second kiss after logan started doing that probably was a bit too much to hope for.

“serves us right, i guess,” virgil says, before he presses his hand against patton’s belly again, more deliberate, and gently skims his thumb against the ever-so-slight curve that patton swears is there, even if virgil tells him that he can’t really see it yet.

“bye, sid and nancy,” he tells the two little clumps of cells that will eventually grow into two little babies.

“mm, what do you think about fred and ginger?” patton says. “go really retro with it.”

virgil snorts, gathering his keys and wallet to stick into his pocket. “the nicknames are enough, in my family, no daughter of mine’s gonna be named ginger.”

“back to the drawing board it is,” patton quips. “logan, any new suggestions for your little siblings?”

logan considers the situation with all the gravity that it should bear, regardless of the bit of jam that he’s already got smeared across his cheek. really, patton’s never met a more serious toddler in his life. “monster truck.”

“just monster truck?”

“an’ microscope.”

“monster truck and microscope,” patton muses, looking back at virgil, feeling the corner of his lips threaten to let the laughter loose, and he can tell virgil’s biting the inside of his cheek for the same reason. “it’s got the alliteration thing going, i’ll tell you that.”

“boy’s a poet,” virgil says. “we’ll definitely take it under advisement, lo. pat, decaf, next time. and the rest of the day.”

“you’re a monster.”

“they’ll both have two heads if you don’t,” virgil says.

“more to love,” patton declares, and tugs him in for one last quick little kiss, just one more, letting his hands linger on him as long as they can as virgil walks away, grinning at him all the while, and he ruffles logan’s hair one last time and patton smiles as he goes, settling both his hands on his belly—

patton wakes up with a sharp intake of breath, sitting up in his bed.

his bed. his bed. in his poolhouse, not that actual house which can he even really use the word actual at all it was a dream and—

patton glances to the side, and yes, there’s logan, in his toddler bed parked right next to patton’s, sleeping soundly, fingers stuck in his mouth, barely illuminated by a sliver of moonlight peeking in through the window. asleep.

patton rests his hand on his belly. yeah. definitely not pregnant.

and he doesn’t want to be pregnant, he tells himself firmly. he probably just had this dream because he had that totally embarrassing freak-out on virgil about maybe being pregnant a couple days ago, that’s all.

“papa?” logan mumbles, blinking.

“oh, hey, honey,” patton says, in a soft whisper. “oh, sweetheart, i’m sorry, did i wake you up?”

“yeah,” logan admits, squinting up at him. “moon’s ‘wake.”

“yeah, it is.”

“why are you?” logan asks, and rubs at his eyes with a fist. “did’ja have a bad dream?”

“i—well, not really,” patton says. “i had a dream, yeah. but it was mostly just a really weird dream.”

“oh,” logan says, considering this. “s’it scary?”

patton considers. because—

well. no. it hadn’t been scary. even if the idea of being pregnant again makes his skin crawl to even think about it, and being pregnant with logan had been its own host of all sorts of difficult emotions, but being pregnant in the dream had been—

well. it had practically been a joy.

“nah,” patton decides.

“mkay,” logan says. “want cuddles anyway?”

well, patton’s not just gonna not take him up on that.

“yeah,” patton decides, shifting. “can i lift you up here?”

“mm-hm.”

so patton reaches down, and scoops logan into his bed, blankets and all, and sets him closer to the middle of the bed, so logan wouldn’t be at risk for falling off, and tosses a couple extra pillows over to the side for extra measure. that side of his bed’s against a wall, but really, better safe than sorry.

“weird?” logan asks.

“oh, just a little,” patton says, slinging his arm over logan, so he’s hugging him. “you were there.”

“was i weird?” logan asks, shifting so that they’re practically nose-to-nose.

patton considers. well. really, patton could see logan recommending the name of microscope, and he has been using pig latin around him lately to say crofters and jam and jelly, so.

“no,” he says. “you were perfectly fine.”

“mkay,” logan says. “was virgil there too?”

patton swallows, and he prides himself on not sounding too squeaky when he says, “yeah, virgil was there too.”

“okay,” logan decides, and apparently those are the only two things that really matter to him, because patton watches as logan’s eyes slip shut and he slips off with a kind of speed that patton envies, and now he’s left to sit—well, lie—alone with the dream still firmly stuck in his mind.

his brain’s just working through the pregnancy scare a bit late. that’s what this weird dream is, he tells himself. yeah. it’s probably just his head trying to help him move on in a healthy way, cushioning it so that it made him seem like barely even a blip in his head.

pregnant, because, well, pregnancy scare, that was the whole thing. patton in a house, because when he’d briefly even though about the possibility of it his brain had been rushing through bills and expenses and how to make space for a baby in the poolhouse, so him having a house was probably him, projecting, his wishes for the future, that’s normal, he thinks. and...

and virgil as the father of the babies because one, patton tells himself, virgil is his best friend, and two, he’d been the one who’d helped patton through the pregnancy scare in the first place, so it probably just crossed some wires in his brain, that’s all.

nope, patton thinks, trying not to flush as his brain rushes through the way virgil smiles at him, almost secretive and soft and a rarity, in public, so it always feels like patton’s on top of the world whenever he does get it, and his intense, deep brown eyes, and his lower arms, visible from how he pushes up his flannel’s sleeves sometimes, toned yet not super beefy with muscle and how patton knows the rest of him is he same way, the way virgil dotes on logan and the way his eyes light up whenever logan does something particularly clever and the way that virgil is just as enthralled watching logan learn something new as patton is, and virgil’s amazement at logan growing at that terrifyingly quick rate of his, and the way that virgil tells him he’s a good dad and means it and when it comes from him patton just about feels like he’s floating because a compliment from virgil always makes him feel like he’s practically floating, definitely no other reason why virgil would be my husband.

he’ll probably forget it by morning, he thinks to himself.

yeah, right. because patton’s luck would totally be that good.

he does forget it, a little, by the time he wakes up in the morning with a toddler half on top of him, making it a bit more difficult to breathe.

the hope of forgetting it fades a bit more after he has the same dream the next night.

it fades more the night after that. and more after that. and more after that.

because really, having a delightful picturesque perfect awkward recurring dream that his friend—definitely only his friend, patton thinks, even if he flushes after waking up and noticing new details, the ring on his finger, the reverent looks dream virgil had given him, the gentle, protective touches to his belly—was married to him and expecting twins with him? that’s more his kind of luck than anything.

#my fic #the sideshire files #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfic #my post #text

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midnight4krisis · 5 years

Text

I Want This - Part One

Predebut era, Trainee!Reader

Han Jisung/ Older Reader (ft. Bang Chan)

Warnings: A Roller coaster of fluff, light angst, and (eventual) smut. Some cringey texts I’m sorry kdhi

Summary: You met Chan on your first day of training, and never left his side ever since. You shared everything together, even the same group of friends. He was the only one you ever trusted, the only warmth you needed until Han Jisung came into the picture. Count: 2k+

Part One Part Two Part Three

A/N: Even though this is predebut, I’m going to treat the characters with their current ages.

It was pouring outside, your dark bedroom illuminated softly by the reoccurring lightning.

Tucked under your covers, your body shivered with each sound of thunder, eyes darting at your shaking windows. You were never the type to be phased by the weather, but today was different.

The rain had been going on since sundown, growing with each hour, and It was 12 am already yet your roommate was nowhere to be found, having already left your dorm room to attend a gathering at some bar with the rest of the older trainees, probably sheltered from the storm underground.

You never joined her on any of these events, not that she wasn’t fun, but it’s mostly because you preferred the company of the younger trainees. Something about their raw energy and carefree attitude really drew you to them, and you never understood the issue in enjoying slightly sillier activities or just plain fooling around to get your mind off of the daily stress.

Usually, you were the one taking care of them and providing a place of comfort for when they needed help or advice, even if you weren’t the most helpful. And yet today was one of those days where you were the one that needed the comfort since the change of weather seems to be playing with your own mood, but even the youngsters were busy with their practice today, leaving you dreading that gap in your schedule.

You heard knocking on the door, and you know it’s strange since no one else in this level was there.

“Coming” you got up despite the fear, still wrapped in your blanket.

“Hey y/n” you opened the door to the sweetest smile spread across a pale fit young man leaning on your door frame.

“Chris!” You grinned in relief at the sight of your best friend. “Thank God you’re here.”

He lets out a small chuckle, his dimples becoming more prominent, and it only made you smile more. “Why, what’s up?” He looked around dramatically, then whispered: “are you scared?”

You pushed him playfully and he continued to giggle at your reaction “No! I’m just..”

“Hmm?”

“Stop it!” Your pitch became a little higher. “Okay, I’m a little phased by it, but only because it’s been going on for hours! And I’m alone with nothing to do and it’s a little dark an-“

“Ok ok, all you had to say is ‘please come in Chris I need you’” he cut you off.

You rolled your eyes at his teasing and pouted your lips childishly before deciding to give in. “Ugh, just come in”

He makes his way to sit on your bed as you turn on the lights.

“Woah.” He attempts to hold in the laugh this time. “I didn’t realize you were wearing that” He points his eyes at the baby blue blanket hugging your body.

“ it’s cold!” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Not that cold.” He mocked.

You narrowed your eyes and ran towards him while unwrapping the blanket to throw it over his head and land beside him.

“What the-“ he struggled to get the tangled cover off, and you couldn’t help but laugh in revenge. “Seriously?” He glared at you through his messy hair, then shook his head as he laughed it off and wrapped the blanket around both of you.

You couldn’t believe how easily he had introduced coziness and comfort into your gloomy room, but then again this was Chris.

“So, how come Christopher Bang is free on a night like this?” You swayed your head at him.

He rolled his eyes “It got really boring hanging around a laptop for the past week”

“You don’t say?” You giggled. “I kept nagging you to take a break so you won't burn out, but no-“

He covered your mouth and hissed “I know, but I told you many times, once I’m in the zone, I can’t get out.”

You snatched his hand away “I just hate it when you drain yourself like that.” You pout, then stared at the red veins in his eyes, his bent posture devoured of energy, and you realized this might not be the most comfortable position for your overworked friend.

“Do you want to lay down a little?” You extend your hands towards the stack of pillows and stuffed dolls on the back of your bed.

Chris immediately grabbed your fluffy panda, as if he had waited for the opportunity. “Mayybe” he squeezed the stuffed animal.

You giggle as you escaped from the wrapped blanket and rearranged the pillows for him, and got up to close the lights and darken the room once more but this time adding the dancing flame of two scented candles.

“These are my favorite scents when I need to relax, lavender and-“

“Cheese cake?!”

“Vanilla” you said in between your laughter.

“Close enough! Gosh, I’m hungry.” He groans and stretches more over the bed, still grasping your panda.

“Honestly, what’s new?” You jump over the pile of pillows behind him, leaning over your side so that you’re looking down at him. “But have you actually eaten anything today? Or did you forget while working like always?” You started playing with his hair.

“I may or may not have done the latter”

“Chris!” You whined and pulled his hair slightly.

“Ouch! You know I can’t do anything about it.” He bent his neck to look up at you.

“Yes you can, I always told you even if you’re too busy to get something yourself, you can tell me.”

“I’m not going to burden you like that.” He brought his head back down. “You have your own stuff to worry about.”

“Don’t make me pull that hair out of your scalp” he chuckled at your brutal comment. “Besides, it’s not like I have that much going on.” You sigh.

“Uhh y/n.” His voice starts to stagger. “You’re constantly practicing and doing your best, daily. I’m sure something great is waiting for you soon. Just don’t think about it too much.”

“Yeah.” You continue caressing his hair. “I know that. Honestly, who am I to complain when it’s only been 3 years” you let out a faint chuckle. “That’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through. I’m really happy for you, Chris.” You smiled wholeheartedly, poking his slightly rosy cheeks.

“I know.” He giggled, but soon after that, his face became devoid of expression. “I’m just” he sighed. “a little worried about the possibility of eliminations. I don’t think I could leave any of the guys behind.”

“And you won’t have to. They’re all ready for this, and your bond as a team in itself is enough to amaze anyone, Chris.” You reassured him, staring straight into his rheumy eyes. “It’s gonna be alright, I promise.”

He shut his eyes right after you said that then turned to curl his body into the side of your bed, leaving you a little startled at his reaction.

“Thank you, y/n.” He mumbled, and the subtle sounds of his soft snoring soon followed, and couldn’t hold in the wide smile forming on your face.

You continued playing with his curly strands while staring at the rainfall now slowly sliding on your windows, it seemed like he drifted the storm away on his way to sleep, like the sky had been roaring for his aching body to rest.

You stumbled back to reality at the buzzing of a phone beside you, it was Chan’s, and you couldn’t stop yourself from quickly peeking at the spam of messages.

“HYUNG”

“HYUNG WHERE ARE YOU”

“I know you’re working but why are you not answering the door?”

“You can’t possibly have gone to that weird party with Minho Hyung?!”

“YOU DID?!”

“CHAN HYUNG STOP LEAVING YOUR PHONE ON SILENT IM GONNA SCREAM”

When the messages kept coming, you were starting to worry, but at the same time couldn’t for the life of you wake him up.

So, you decided to use the privilege of having your fingerprint saved on his phone to see what’s going on without bothering the poor guy.

You stared at the contact name. “Jisung?”

“Final call: HYUNNNGGGG”

“Jisung calm the f down, what’s going on? it’s y/n, Chris is asleep right now..”

“Y/n? What are you doing with Chan’s phone? Where are you guys?”

“We’re at my room, and you were sending too many messages so I had to check. Sorry, but I couldn’t wake him up after he finally got some sleep.”

“Hyung? Sleeping? Is this a miracle?”

“My magic 😌 or my panda’s, he’s suffocating him right now”

“Please take a pic, I need that for..research”

“Bold of you to assume I hadn’t already taken one, but you’re not getting your hands on it.”

“Pshh I’m coming to see the real thing”

“?”

“👀”

“Did you just invite yourself to my room? Uh hell no, Chris needs rest 😠”

“NOONA PLEASE IM LITERALLY THE ONLY ONE AWAKE”

“DO NOT CALL ME THAT and is that why you kept spamming him? Well, your insomniac parter has abandoned you tonight”

“This is not fair 😭”

“Yes it is, and you should get some sleep too, you guys had practice all day.”

“But I cannnnt. Why don’t you spare me some of your magic too?”

“Nop, you have to earn it”

“Noona why do you hate me? 😒”

“Maybe because YOU KEEP CALLING ME NOONA”

“But you are my noona”

“But Idc I don’t like it, makes me feel old”

“Oh please, everyone knows you act like a 10-year-old”

“🙂🔪"

“IN A GOOD WAY, a really adorable way actually, but I still like calling you noona”

“And I still hate it, AND YOU”

“Pshh I’ll make you love it”

“Lol how”

“Like this..”

You suddenly heard faint knocking on the door. “Unbelievable.” You muttered before being forced to get up and answer so Chris won’t wake up.

“NOON—“ Jisung said loudly before you covered his mouth.

“Shhh” you whispered. “What is the one thing I told you not to do?!”

“Come to your room? Bother chan? Calling you nooooon—“

You cut him off again “see? you demonstrated my point exactly” you giggled a little at the silliness of the entire situation.

Truth is you obviously wanted him around, you didn’t feel like sleeping anytime soon and wasn’t entirely comfortable with sharing a bed with your best friend, so having Jisung as a distraction till Chris woke up wasn’t a bad idea.

You just don’t know why you love teasing him, maybe because his reactions are always over the top and entertaining to see, or maybe because he does the same to you.

“Just let me in and I promise I won’t annoy Chan Hyung” he pouted

“Hmm” you pretended to give it a thought.

“Come on, pleaaase” he grabbed your shoulders and shook you around gently “NOONA PLEASE”

“No no, stop saying that” you groaned.

“I won’t stop, noona. I won’t stop until you let me in”

“Fine, just-“ you let go from his grip. “Don’t make a sound” you emphasized on your way in.

He closed the door behind him quietly and you both sat down on the far edge of the bed.

“You weren’t lying about the panda.” He exclaimed with a slight chuckle, observing his teammate in his peaceful sleep. “Must be so nice sleeping over a mountain of pink pillows Chan.”

You laughed at the desperation in his voice, like he actually meant it. “Don’t even think about joining him.”

He looked back at you instantly. “I’m offended.”

“I can’t have two guys sleeping on my bed!” You whispered dramatically.

“As if having one is less weird.” He snorted.

“Nah, it’s Chris! You know it’s not like that.” You react in a slightly defensive tone.

“Shh.” He imitated the way you shut him earlier, whispering “you’ll wake him up.” Before laughing it off once you gave him a slight push. “I know, noon-“

“No.”

He let out a low chuckle. “But I’ll be honest, not everyone does.”

“Does what?”

“You know..” he leaned his head towards the direction of the blond laying behind you, and your eyes stretched wide open.

“Me and Chris?!” You accidentally raised your voice but proceeded to yell through the whisper. “You guys think?”

“Ehh” he hesitated to answer.

“What! No, we’re not- that’s not how-“

“I know I know, relax.” He giggled and reached for your wrists to calm you down, His tone and expression softening as he spoke. “Yes we had our suspicions at first because we weren’t used to friendships like that, but it’s pretty obvious by now, so don’t worry about it.”

You nodded and looked down at your snatched wrists. skin-ship was a regular thing between you and Chris, you can’t pinpoint exactly when it started being so, but it became too natural for you to think of it otherwise, and you assumed it was the same for him as well. For reasons beyond your understanding, you felt safe around him.

However, it wasn’t that way with the other guys, so staring at Jisung’s fingers rested on your skin in that fashion felt foreign, your instincts pulled back before you realized it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” He rubbed his neck and looked away. “I should tone it down with the teasing, it’s getting annoying.”

“No, it’s not that-“ you buried your face in your palms. “I never know how to explain this, I just trust him more than anyone.” You release your face and look up slowly.

“You guys spent the longest together in training, it makes sense that you’d be this close.” He shrugged.

You nodded.

“Anyway, do I smell vanilla?” He looked around, trying to change the subject.

“And Lavender.” You juggled your eyebrows.

“Damn y/n, no wonder he’s passed out, you really know your stuff.”

“Thank you.” You chuckled.

Jisung always knew how to keep the mood bright, it was something you really admired about the boy.

You can’t recall a moment where the smile left his full cheeks, or where the sparkle left his dark eyes.

And through the next hour it was all the same, your roommate still nowhere in sight, your best friend passed out on your bed, and Han Jisung failing to keep the both of you quiet from all the laughter.

It didn’t seem like Chris is waking up anytime soon, and for a while, you forgot how late it was, until Jisung let out a low yawn, and yours followed. “I think you need to wake him up before you and I pass out beside him"

You looked back with furrowed eyes. “I don’t have it in me, look at him.”

He sighs. “I’ll get going then, have fun explaining this to your roommate.” He scoffed as he got up.

“Wait, you’re not going anywhere” you tugged at the tip of his T-shirt, looking up at him, you just realized how baggy he wore his clothes, and how good his golden skin looked in black. “Not until he wakes up.”

“But I thought you didn’t want me here.” He smirked.

“Just sit down Jisung.” You whined.

He obliged, but the smirk failed to leave his face as he stared at you.

“What?” You felt the blood running to your cheeks. why was he looking at you that way all of a sudden?

“Nothing.” He shook his head and looked down, and for some reason, his fluffy hair was so tempting to pet.

He continued to glance at you when you came in contact with his soft strands, the goofiest smile engulfed his face. “Are you bribing me to stay.”

“Am I?” You gently brushed his bangs out of his face. “Maybe.” Or maybe you couldn’t resist it.

He laughed and pulled away. “I’m not falling for that, I’m tired, right? I practiced all day, remember?” He imitated you again.

“Why are you acting like you weren’t the one who begged to come here in the first place?” You smirked back, inching closer.

“And why are you ignoring the fact that you absolutely needed me?” He slowly leaned back.

“I did?” You tangled your fingers in his hair again.

“Uhmm” he hummed before shooting his hands back to catch himself from leaning over, only to hear the loud breath escaping Chan.

“Shoot!” He quickly removed the hand he accidentally rested on Chan’s leg, and the two of you stared widely waiting for him to wake up.

But to your relief, he didn’t.

You both looked back at each other, stuck in the same position, his face now just as flushed as yours, and at the moment you forgot you were almost on top of your younger friend.

You were gazing at a completely different Jisung now, and you only wanted to get closer.

“Noona?” He whispered softly, his face close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath.

“Y-yes” you started to stutter, frozen in place.

“Can we move off the bed?” He brought his other hand to your hand caught in his hair, and the contact felt electrifying. “Hyung might wake up.”

You mummed, still processing the cause of your wavering body.

He snatched your hand in his and brought them in between you, caressing it as his whispers deepened “Noona.”

You blinked, your breaths growing shorter, eyes finally leaving him to wander towards his lips. How come you never noticed how sweet they looked?

He tugged at your hand to come closer and bit his lower lip.

He noticed.

Was it the cold weather that confused your body’s shivers? or the adrenaline left from the frightening thunder? you weren’t sure, but what you were certain of is that whatever it was that pushed you towards his lips, you didn’t want it to go away.

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