☆ ★.ㅤ 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒.ㅤ ㅤ──ㅤㅤ sleeping habits. cortis & f reader , fluff. not proofread.
you notice it the first time on a quiet night, when the room is dim and the only light comes from your phone screen slowly fading to black beside you.
he's lying on his back, one arm draped lazily across his stomach, the other just barely brushing yours. at first, everything about him looks normal. steady breathing, relaxed shoulders, lips parted just enough to let out soft, even breaths. but then your eyes drift up, and your stomach drops just a little.
his eyes are open, not wide, but open enough to make it look like he's watching you.
"james?" you whisper, eyebrows pulling together, because there's no way he's just lying there like that.
you push yourself up on one elbow, leaning closer, squinting like that'll somehow make more sense of it.
"why are you staring at me?" you mumble, a little embarrassed, a little weirded out, your voice barely above a breath.
he doesn't answer or move. the silence stretches long enough to make your skin prickle.
"okay . . . not funny," you reach out to poke his shoulder lightly.
you hesitate, then wave your hand slowly in front of his face, watching closely for any reaction. "if you're messing with me right now, i swear—" but his eyes don't track your movement at all, just fixed somewhere past you.
"are you—hello?" you stop, leaning closer. "are you asleep?"
it sounds ridiculous the moment it leaves your mouth, but everything about him says yes except for his eyes.
you tap his cheek gently this time. "hey. james. wake up for a second."
there's a pause, then finally, a faint reaction. his brows twitch, his lips part a little more.
"mm?" he hums, voice rough and barely there, like he's surfacing from somewhere far away. his gaze still doesn't quite focus, even as his head shifts slightly toward you.
"you're—your eyes are open," you whisper, because what else are you supposed to do with that.
he blinks slowly, unevenly, the action itself being too much effort for him. "huh?" he mumbles, words slurring together, confusion written all over his face but dulled by sleep.
"you're staring at me," you insist, gesturing between the two of you, even though he can barely keep up.
he squints at you, or at least tries to, his eyes struggling to fully close. "wasn't. was sleepin'," he mutters, already drifting again, his voice soft and unfocused.
"no, you were not, your eyes were literally open," you press, a little more awake than you planned to be.
he lets out a quiet, sleepy exhale. "do that sometimes," his head tilts slightly toward your shoulder, eyes still barely open, lashes heavy. "go back t'sleep."
"james, that's creepy," you whisper.
he doesn't respond this time, already slipping under again, breathing evening out.
you stare at him for a second longer, watching the way his eyes stay just slightly open, unfocused and distant all over again.
carefully, you lift your hand and brush your fingers over his eyelids, gently coaxing them shut. they stay closed this time, and something about that makes you feel oddly relieved.
you settle back down beside him, still a little unsettled, but more amused than anything, already knowing you're going to bring this up again in the morning.
you wake up slowly, dragged out of sleep by a deep, rumbling sound that doesn't quite make sense at first. it's low, uneven, almost rhythmic.
annoying? yes. why? because it's vibrating right next to your ear.
your brows knit together as you blink into the dark, trying to figure out what you're hearing. then it clicks, and you let out a slow, disbelieving exhale.
you turn your head just enough to confirm it. juhoon, dead asleep beside you, snoring with no shame.
you stare at him for a second, hoping somehow that if you just wait, it'll stop on its own. it doesn't. if anything, it gets louder, the sound dipping and rising.
"juhoon," you mumble, voice rough with sleep, reaching over to nudge his arm. "be quiet."
he doesn't react at all, completely unreachable.
you push yourself up onto your elbow, squinting at him with annoyance, your patience already thinning.
"juhoon," you try again, a little sharper this time, giving his shoulder a firmer shake. "stop snoring, seriously."
he just breathes in deeply and there it is again, loud and uninterrupted.
"oh my god," you mutter, dragging a hand over your face as you glance around like the solution might magically appear.
your eyes land on the extra pillow beside you, and you go still for a second, considering it. "don't make me do this," you whisper, even though he obviously can't hear you.
with a quiet huff, you grab the pillow and lift it, hesitating only briefly before pressing it straight against his face.
"be quiet," you insist, pushing it down just enough to muffle the sound. for a split second, it actually works. the snoring cuts off, the room falling blessedly silent.
then, without warning, his hand comes up.
still completely asleep, juhoon swats at the pillow with surprising accuracy, knocking it right out of your hands. the force of it makes you jerk back slightly, the pillow tumbling into your lap as you blink at him.
he doesn't wake up, doesn't even open his eyes, just shifts a little. and right on cue, the snoring starts again, just as loud as before.
you sit there for a moment, stunned into silence, trying to process what just happened. you watch the way he sleeps so peacefully, completely unaware of the chaos he's causing.
with a frustrated sigh, you flop back down onto your side, turning away from him and yanking the blanket up over your ear.
"i hope you wake yourself up," you grumble, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to block it out.
behind you, he keeps snoring without interruption, completely unbothered and impossible to reason with.
somehow, even as the sound drives you insane, you don't move any farther away because as annoying as he is, you're still right there beside him.
you finally shut the game off, the screen going dark after what felt like hours of tension that never really let up.
the silence that follows feels heavier than it should, the atmosphere of the game still lingering in the room with you. you stretch your fingers, trying to shake off the stiffness, but your mind keeps replaying the last scene.
you glance over your shoulder at the bed, where martin is fast asleep, half buried in the blankets, completely unaffected by the tension that's still clinging to you.
"must be nice," you mutter under your breath, reaching for your phone just to ground yourself in something normal.
you move around the room not long after, going through your usual routine, but it feels like the room isn't as safe as it was an hour ago. the shadows look deeper, the corners of the room a little too quiet, your senses still stuck in that heightened, paranoid state.
you turn off the last light and climb into bed, pulling the blanket up as you settle beside him. for a moment, it's fine. just you, the quiet, and martin's steady breathing beside you. then you hear a soft tap.
you freeze instantly, your entire body going still as your ears strain for the sound again. another knock follows, and it sounds like it's coming from inside the walls.
your stomach tightens, every nerve suddenly on edge as your imagination runs straight back to everything you just played. you slowly push yourself up, eyes locked on the wall across the room as you wait for it again.
the sound echoes faintly, making your skin prickle. you immediately lurch closer, grabbing onto him and pressing yourself against his side, your hands clutching his shirt.
"martin," you whisper, turning quickly toward him, your voice urgent. "martin, wake up."
he doesn't respond, still completely asleep, face buried in the pillow. "okay, no, seriously—wake up," you insist, reaching over and shaking his shoulder a little harder.
he stirs, letting out a groggy sound, clearly pulled from deep sleep. "what—" he mumbles, voice thick and unfocused, barely opening his eyes.
another soft knock sounds, and you tighten your grip on him instantly. "do you hear that?" you whisper urgently.
he blinks slowly, still out of it, trying to process both you clinging to him and whatever you're saying. "hear what?" he mutters, head tilting slightly as he tries to wake up. another tap.
this time, he goes still for a second, his expression shifting just enough to show he noticed it too. his brows furrow faintly as he glances toward the headboard.
"oh," he exhales, voice still raspy with sleep, but there's a hint of realization. he lifts his hand slightly, and you feel it brush against the headboard again. it's the same exact sound.
you blink, following the movement, your fear faltering as confusion starts to take over. "wait," you mumble, loosening your grip.
he lets out a quiet, breathy laugh, the sound growing as he wakes up a little more. "my bad."
you stare at him, your brain trying to catch up as the adrenaline slowly drains out of you. "you're knocking on the wall in your sleep? you never stop playing the beat?"
"yeah," he nods, glancing at you with a sleepy smile, "and you thought it was . . . what, a ghost?"
that does it. you pull back to smack his arm lightly. "i just finished a horror game!" you whisper-shout, embarrassed and defensive as you settle back down beside him.
even when his hand twitches faintly near the headboard, you just sigh and grab it, holding it still to make sure the knocking doesn't start again.
you're curled up on your side, phone propped against a pillow as the crime documentary plays quietly in the dark. the narrator's voice is low and eerie, each word dragging you deeper into the story despite how late it already is.
beside you, seonghyeon is completely out, having knocked out early the second his head hit the pillow, too tired to even pretend to stay awake with you.
"you're really missing everything," you mumble under your breath, glancing at him briefly before turning your attention back to the screen.
the room is dim, lit only by your phone, shadows stretching along the walls in a way that makes you slightly more aware of your surroundings. still, you keep watching, completely pulled in.
the documentary shifts into a darker segment, the music dropping into something tense and unsettling as the narration lowers. you pull the blanket up slightly, your eyes glued to the screen.
"why would you go in there?" you whisper to yourself, watching a reenactment play out in grainy detail.
the house on the screen creaks, footsteps echoing through empty hallways, and you can feel your nerves start to build.
you swallow, adjusting the blanket around you, telling yourself it's just a documentary. then, right when the tension peaks, you hear a soft whisper right next to you.
you go completely still, your heart skipping before slamming hard against your chest. you slowly turn your head away from the screen. another faint murmur follows, barely audible but unmistakable, like someone speaking under their breath.
you let out a sharp scream and immediately dive under the blanket, yanking it over your head like it's going to protect you from whatever that was.
seonghyeon jolts awake beside you, startled by the sudden scream cutting through the quiet. "what—what happened?" he mumbles, voice rough with sleep as he turns to you, still half out of it.
you don't come out from under the blanket, clutching it tighter as your breathing stays uneven. "i heard something," you insist, your voice muffled but urgent.
he blinks, trying to process the situation, one hand reaching over instinctively until it finds your back. "hey . . . hey," he murmurs, gently rubbing your back in slow, grounding motions. "why are you screaming?"
"there was whispering," you pull the blanket down just enough to peek out at him, eyes wide. "like—right here. someone was talking."
he squints at you, still waking up, his expression shifting from confusion to something more thoughtful. "talking?" he repeats, voice slow as he tries to recall anything.
you nod quickly, gripping his sleeve. "yes, i heard it, i swear."
"you should go to sleep too," he mumbles, voice soft, trying to calm you down. "you're just freaking yourself out."
he lets out a quiet breath, his hand still moving gently along your back. "that was probably me."
you blink at him, thrown off. "what do you mean you?" you ask, your fear starting to fade into confusion.
he rubs his face with his free hand, letting out a small, sleepy huff. "i talk in my sleep sometimes," he mutters, glancing at you with half lidded eyes.
you stare at him, your brain slowly catching up as the panic drains out of your system. "you're telling me you were whispering in your sleep?"
he shrugs faintly, already starting to sink back into the pillow. "yeah. it happens," he mumbles, clearly ready to fall asleep again.
you let out a shaky breath as you process everything. "you scared me."
he huffs out a small, amused breath, his hand giving your back one last gentle rub. "you scared me," he murmurs back, voice soft with lingering sleep.
you hesitate for a second before finally lowering the blanket completely, leaning into him a little. you glance at your phone, the documentary still playing, and immediately reach over to pause it.
"i'm not watching that anymore," you mutter, settling closer to him instead.
you're sitting cross legged on the bed, a small box of hair chalks spread out in front of you.
keonho is completely knocked out beside you, face relaxed, breathing slow, one arm tucked under his head because he thinks nothing in the world could bother him.
"you really shouldn't fall asleep this early around me," you whisper, already picking out a color and leaning closer. carefully, you drag the chalk through a small section of his hair, trying not to laugh at how easy this is. "this is what you get."
he doesn't react at all, just shifts slightly before settling again, completely unaware of what you're doing.
you reach for another color, debating whether to go subtle or completely ruin his image, when a faint sound makes you pause. it's quiet, almost easy to miss, but then it comes again. gritty and uneven.
you lean closer, squinting slightly as you listen. "are you grinding your teeth?" you whisper, lowering the chalk slowly.
you watch him, and sure enough, his jaw tightens slightly before the sound comes back again.
you're immediately reminded of your own habit. you've been told you do the exact same thing, and more importantly, it reminds you of the one method that always gets you to stop.
you know he's not gonna like it.
you shift a little closer, lifting your hand cautiously as you look at his face one more time. without overthinking it too much, you give his cheek a quick, firm slap. his face scrunches instantly, his whole body jolting slightly as a confused sound escapes him.
"—what the hell?" he mumbles, eyes snapping open just enough to glare at you through sleep.
"you were grinding your teeth," you say immediately, pointing at him.
he blinks at you, still half asleep, one hand coming up to rub his cheek. " . . . you slapped me," he says slowly, making sure he didn't imagine it.
"yeah," you nod, completely serious. "it works."
he stares at you for a long second, trying to process that, his expression shifting between confusion and disbelief. "that's insane," he mutters, voice rough as he squints at you. "you could've just woken me up like a normal person."
you shrug, already reaching for the chalk again. "that takes too long. this one's quicker."
he scoffs weakly, still rubbing his cheek, clearly offended even through the fog of sleep. "you just wanted an excuse to hit me," he accuses, narrowing his eyes at you.
"no i didn't!" you shoot back immediately, not even looking at him as you go back to his hair. "you were making noise, i fixed it."
"i mean, i know it's not right to eat your leftovers, but still," he adds, starting a completely different conversation.
"pause. what did you just say?" you ask slowly, turning your head toward him.
he blinks, clearly trying to hold onto his train of thought. "your food," he mutters, waving his hand vaguely. "earlier. i ate yours too." he says it like it's nothing, like it's a normal, acceptable confession to make right after getting slapped awake.
you stare at him, your brain taking a second to catch up then your eyes widen. "you ate my leftovers? the ones i said i was saving?"
he frowns slightly, now realizing this might be a problem. " . . . you weren't there," he offers weakly, hoping that's somehow a valid defense. "so i thought—"
"you thought what? that they just became yours by default?"
he pushes himself up a little, still clearly half asleep but now mildly defensive. "i was hungry and you weren't eating them."
"i was going to!" you fire back immediately. "that's the point of leftovers, keonho! leftovers!"
he looks genuinely confused for a second. "then why didn't you eat them earlier?"
you stare at him, speechless. " . . . because i was saving them," you slowly repeat.
he lets out a small huff, running a hand through his hair, smearing a bit of chalk without realizing it. "you can't just claim food forever. there's a time limit."
"a time limit?" you echo, offended. "who decided that?"
you let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "oh, that's great. so by your logic, anything i don't eat immediately is yours?"
"if i'm hungry, yeah," he nods once, proud of that answer.
you shake your head, grabbing the chalk again with renewed purpose. "you know what? fine. keep that same energy when you look in the mirror."
he frowns, confused, reaching up instinctively. "what did you—" his fingers brush against the chalked strands. "what did you do to my hair?"
you don't look at him, adding another streak. "don't worry about it. there's no time limit on this one."
