Hello author, I hope you doing well and I would like to ask you an one shot if that's not bother you. I'm sorry in advance for the spelling mistakes, English is not my first language. (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃
Fandom : Bungou Strays Dogs
Theme : slightly angst/fluff&comfort
It's an Mori Ougai x GN!Reader, Friends to Lover ( their love eachother but didn't still confess )
Plot : The reader runs a cafe and has the ability to change and go in people's dreams as long as they knows their names.
Mori often frequents the cafe because Elise enjoys the desserts sold there. Mori and reader are friends because of this.
The reader don't know that's Mori was the Boss of the Port Mafia at the start and Mori don't know about Reader's ability at the start.
So one day, Reader notice that Mori don't feel very well because Mori have nightmares and bad sleep so innocently the Reader wish to make him feel better and decide to change and manipulate the dream's of Mori next night and discover that's the nightmare Mori have is about his past trauma during and the reader decide to comfort him. The reader also discover at the same time that's Mori is the boss of the Port Mafia.
Next day, Mori confront the Reader about this and after an discussion, they confess to eachother.
The end
I hope you would have an great day, goodbye author ! <(￣︶￣)>❤️❤️❤️
Whispered Names I Ougai Mori x Reader
Summary: A quiet café, a tired doctor, and a coffee shop owner with an ability. When you enter Mori’s dreams to offer comfort, you uncover the truth behind his nightmares—and who he really is.
A/N: This...is not my best work. I'm in the middle of finals but I had this started and wanted to finish this adorable scenario. Might edit it later cause some of the dialogues are very cringe. Thank you so much for the request, love! This story was a joy to write, and I hope it brings you the comfort and emotion you were looking for. I really admire your idea and your kindness—please don’t worry about your English, it was perfectly clear and heartfelt! Hope you enjoy!! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡
TW: themes of trauma, war, death, medical imagery, and implied assassination. Please read with care. (˘︶˘).｡.:*♡
MASTERLIST
The chime above the café door jingled with its usual gentle ring, soft and familiar like a whispered greeting. Mori Ougai stepped inside, posture straight, movements graceful and measured. Behind him, Elise bounced in with barely contained excitement, her eyes lighting up the moment she spotted the rows of strawberry parfaits displayed behind the glass case.
The café was warm and tranquil, a soft refuge tucked quietly away from the chaos of Yokohama’s streets. Sunlight pooled through the windows, casting golden stripes across the wooden floors. You were already behind the counter, drying a mug with a soft towel, and glanced up with a smile that came naturally at the sight of them.
“Welcome back,” you said, voice warm. “Your usual seat today?”
Mori’s lips curved into a polite, familiar smile. “Of course,” he replied, removing his gloves with slow precision. “And Elise, I assume, will insist on the parfait again?”
“Yes, yes!” Elise clapped her hands together and darted toward the window seat, the one she always claimed, already pulling her legs up into the booth like she owned the place. “With extra cream this time, okay? You always forget!”
“I don’t always forget,” you replied with a teasing glance. “But fine—extra swirl, just for you.”
She gave a little victorious “hmph,” folding her arms and watching the dessert case with laser focus.
Mori chuckled under his breath as he settled into the seat across from her, brushing a speck of lint from his coat sleeve. “She’s been talking about this parfait since last week. I believe I’ve been threatened with exile if we didn’t come today.”
“She does have excellent taste,” you said, stepping out from behind the counter with a small notepad in hand, though you already knew their order by heart. “Coffee for you? Black, no sugar, a dash of cinnamon?”
“Always.” He nodded. “You remember better than most.”
“I pay attention.” You offered him a quiet, knowing smile before scribbling the order anyway, more out of habit than need.
As you turned to head back toward the kitchen, Elise leaned over to whisper to Mori—loudly enough for you to still hear.
“You two should just marry already,” she said with exaggerated annoyance. “You keep staring.”
Mori raised a brow and cleared his throat, uncharacteristically flustered. “Elise.”
“What?” she huffed. “I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking.”
You bit your lip to hold back a laugh as you disappeared through the doorway to start on their drinks and dessert.
Behind you, Mori sighed. “Children,” he muttered, but there was the faintest softness in his voice—something not quite annoyance. Something else entirely.
He came often—too often, perhaps—for someone who clearly didn't belong to the quiet rhythm of everyday life. Not that he ever drew attention. Quite the opposite. When Rintarō walked through the café door, it wasn’t with the air of a powerful man. There was no tailored suit, no polished shoes, no slick professionalism that hinted at authority.
Instead, he wore the same worn white doctor’s coat, frayed slightly at the cuffs, like it had lived through more than it should have. His hair, once neatly parted, now fell messily around his temples, and he hadn’t shaved in days—his jaw shadowed with a soft stubble that made him look more tired than dangerous. If anyone noticed, they probably assumed he was just a fatigued hospital worker on a break. Someone normal. Invisible.
But not to you.
To you, he was the man who drank his coffee far too bitter, who hunched slightly when he read from crumpled medical texts in the corner, who only relaxed when Elise laughed with her mouth full of cream. You’d grown used to the image of him like this—unkempt, quiet, a little frayed around the edges—and maybe that’s why you liked him even more.
Here, in this little pocket of the world, he let his guard down. No title. No grandeur. Just a man who always chose the corner booth, who always said your name a little softer than necessary, who always seemed a little sad when he thought no one was looking.
He was rough around the edges, yes, but he was real. And you had come to look forward to that quiet presence more than you dared admit.
You knew so little, really. Only that he often sat silently while Elise devoured sweets with childlike glee, her voice rising with delight as she demanded more whipped cream or argued with him about dessert etiquette. And you? You’d linger longer than necessary at his table, refilling his cup when it was still half-full, offering a quiet smile and a few easy words.
Over time, the distance between you had shrunk—subtly, naturally. You learned he liked lilacs, though he never said it outright, only commented on the small vase of them once with the faintest curve of a smile. You’d noticed the way he paused before answering your questions, as if weighing how much of himself to offer. You respected that. Never pushed.
“Rintarou,” you called him, and he let you—no correction, no deflection.
Friends, you told yourself. That’s all it was. Friends who exchanged soft glances when the café grew quiet. Friends who always seemed to notice each other’s mood without speaking. But there was something in the silences between you—words neither of you dared speak aloud. Something lingering in the way your fingers brushed his when passing his cup. In the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long when he thought you weren’t looking.
No one had said it—not yet—but the space between friendship and something more was growing thinner with every visit.
You slid his coffee across the table, hand brushing his by accident. He didn’t pull away. But his eyes... were tired. More than usual.
You approached the table with his coffee in hand, setting it down with the gentle clink of ceramic against wood. Elise was too busy humming to herself while scribbling in a coloring book to notice anything, but you caught it the moment you looked at him—Rintarou’s eyes were duller than usual, ringed faintly with exhaustion. His posture wasn’t as straight, his shoulders slouched just slightly, and he hadn’t even bothered to brush the sleep lines from his cheek.
“You didn’t sleep well, did you?” you asked softly, sliding into the seat across from him, your tone more concerned than casual.
He looked up, blinking once like you’d caught him off guard. “Is it really that obvious?”
You gave him a small, lopsided smile. “Not to most people. But I’ve seen you when you’re... composed. And this isn’t it.”
His fingers curled loosely around the coffee cup, but he didn’t lift it right away. “You’re observant.”
“I run a café. People tell me things with their faces more than their words,” you said, watching him.
Rintarou was silent for a moment. His gaze dropped to the steam curling up from his cup, and something unreadable passed over his face— almost weariness.
“I just… wanted to check,” you added gently, as if afraid you might have overstepped. “If there’s anything I can do. Or if you just want to talk. Or even if you don’t want to say anything at all—I’m here ‘till closing.”
He looked at you then. Really looked. And in his eyes, there was something raw beneath all that restraint. He gave a short, humorless breath through his nose. “No, I’m alright.” he said, then softer, “but thank you.”
There was something tender in his voice when he said that—like the act of offering had meant more than your words. He finally brought the coffee to his lips, sipping it slowly. You didn’t push, just stood there with him for a moment in comfortable silence.
That night, you sat alone in your quiet apartment, troubled by the image of him. Your ability was a rare one. You could enter and influence dreams, as long as you knew someone’s name. And Rintarou Mori—you knew his name. You had never used your ability without telling someone. But this felt... different. He looked like he needed rest more than anything else. You only wanted to help.
So you closed your eyes, whispered his name, and fell into sleep.
The dream was a suffocating void, alive with pain and regret.
You found yourself in a makeshift field hospital, the air thick with antiseptic and screams. Young Rintarou—his once-crisp white coat stained by sweat and mud—raced between bloodied stretchers. He’d been a war doctor first, stitching wounds and administering morphine under relentless shellfire. Here, his hands shook as he tried to save soldiers he’d never know again.
Then the scene blurred, shifting to a dingy back-alley clinic, flickering lanterns casting half-shadows. He’d worked there next, an underground doctor tending to the city’s worst and desperate. His coat hung heavier, the fabric threadbare, but his eyes burned with quiet determination as he patched bullet wounds by candlelight.
Finally, the memory twisted, hard and sharp, dragging you into the dim, echoing halls of the Port Mafia’s headquarters. The air was cold, still, and heavy with finality. There, in the shadows of power, Rintarou knelt beside a frail figure collapsed on a silk-draped bed—his predecessor, the old boss. The man’s hair was ghost-white, slick with sweat, his breath shallow and rattling like wind through cracked glass.
You watched, heart tight, as the old man’s eyes snapped open. His voice came in a fevered whisper, slurred and manic: “Kill them… kill them all…”
And Rintarou—his expression unreadable, his face like carved porcelain—leaned in close. With steady, surgical precision, he withdrew a blade. Not a weapon of war, but a surgeon’s knife—sterile, deliberate, clinical.
Without a word, he drew it across the old man’s throat.
The blood was quick and silent, soaking into the sheets like ink. There was no cruelty in the act. No pleasure. Only cold necessity—and a trace of sorrow so deeply buried it almost went unnoticed. The boss’s last breath rattled like a judge’s gavel.
You stepped forward, the memory still settling around him like ash. The air was heavy with blood and silence—too many silences. The soldiers he couldn’t save. The desperate voices from that backroom clinic. The soft, wet sound of a throat being opened by his own hand.
They flickered in and out of focus—ghosts circling him, bound not by malice, but by memory. And Rintarou knelt at the center of it all, unmoving. Not resisting. Just… enduring. Shoulders stiff. Eyes blank. A man who had learned to carry his sins in silence because he thought no one else should have to.
You knelt beside him, your presence a ripple in the stillness. One hand reached out, brushing his sleeve—just enough. Not to erase what had happened, but to offer something else.
With the faintest pulse of your ability, the scene around you began to bend and soften. The dark walls of the Mafia’s inner sanctum melted away, brick by brick, and were replaced by open sky. Cold stone gave way to soft grass. The air warmed. Light returned.
And yet… he didn’t move.
Even in the dawn you offered, Rintarou sat frozen—jaw tight, fists clenched in his lap, as if terrified that letting go of the past would dishonor the dead he carried with him.
You looked at him, truly looked. Not as a doctor. Not as a killer. But as a man who’d lived through more than anyone should—and survived it alone.
And for the first time, in the quiet hum of his dream, you whispered, “You don’t have to keep reliving it to prove you remember.”
He didn’t answer, but his breath hitched—just once. And in that stillness, you saw it:
He heard you.
The next morning, Rintarou arrived alone.
No Elise. No usual easy pretense. Just him—standing in the doorway of your café with shadows under his eyes and something heavier in the set of his shoulders. The morning sun lit the edges of his worn coat, and though his hair was still tousled and a faint stubble clung to his jaw, there was nothing unkempt about the look in his eyes.
Sharp. Direct. Measured.
You met him behind the counter, offering his coffee without a word. But he didn’t take it right away.
“You,” he said quietly, eyes never leaving yours, “were in my dream.”
You stilled.
His tone wasn’t angry. Not quite. But it carried a weight that settled in the space between you like a blade laid gently on a table.
“I don’t remember everything,” he continued, tone calm but direct, “but I know enough. You changed it. You saw it. You saw me.”
Your throat tightened. “I didn’t mean to invade your mind, I swear. I didn’t even know—at first—that it was that kind of dream. You looked so… tired. I just wanted to help.”
Rintarou studied you in silence, his expression unreadable.
“You went where no one’s ever been,” he said finally. “My memories. My regrets. You saw what I did. What I became.”
“I did,” you said. “And I’m still treating you the same. Still here. That should tell you everything.”
His jaw tightened, like he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or ashamed. “You saw me kill him.”
You nodded.
A pause.
A beat.
“My real name is Ougai Mori. Rintarou is just what Elise likes to call me.”
There it was. Clear. Direct. A confession offered not with pride, but with unflinching honesty.
The words hung between you like a blade suspended mid-air.
You stared at him for a long moment, trying to match this quiet man—this gentle regular with worn sleeves and a sweet tooth for Elise’s sake—to the shadowed title that made the underworld tremble. And yet... it wasn’t hard. Because you had already seen what others hadn’t: the surgeon’s precision, the commander’s burden, the man beneath the weight.
You exhaled slowly. “So that’s the name behind the nightmares.”
You stared at him, the words settling between you like smoke that didn’t quite sting. It should have frightened you. It should have driven you back. But instead, you stepped closer—barely noticeable, just a shift in breath, in presence.
“…I figured it was something like that,” you said softly, voice steady. “After everything I saw… the weight you carry, the things you’ve done—yes, I know who you are now. But it doesn’t change what I see when I look at you.”
You stepped around the counter and walked up to him. Close enough that you could see the worry he almost—almost—managed to hide.
“You didn’t become a monster,” you said, voice steady despite the storm inside you. “You became a man carrying more than anyone should have to. You made choices that no one else wanted to make. I’m not going anywhere.”
A long silence passed. He looked at you, really looked at you, with those dark eyes that had seen far too much. And for a moment, something softened in them—something fragile and human and achingly real.
“I should have walked away from this place the moment I realized what I was beginning to feel,” he said, voice low. “But I couldn’t. I told myself it was for Elise. For the quiet. The coffee.”
He smiled faintly. A sad, small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “But it was always you.”
Your breath caught.
“I stay because you make me forget,” he continued, “just for a little while… what I’ve done. What I am. You remind me that there’s still something gentle left in me.”
You reached out then, fingers brushing his coat sleeve before taking his hand completely. It was warm. Solid. Hesitant.
“I don’t want you to forget,” you whispered. “I want you to remember—and still believe there’s something worth holding onto. Something good. Something soft.”
His fingers curled around yours.
“…You make me want things I’d convinced myself I didn’t deserve.”
“Then let yourself have them,” you said, voice a little shaky. “Let yourself have this.”
A silence fell again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It was full of something softer. Something waiting.
And then, without another word, he leaned in—tentative, careful, like he was giving you every chance to step away.
You didn’t.
You closed the distance, pressing your forehead to his, your hand still wrapped in his. There was no rush. No urgency. Just the quiet bloom of something long overdue.
When you finally pulled back, he was smiling—not the sharp, practiced smile you’d seen so many times, but something smaller. Warmer. Real.
“I’d like to stay,” he said, his voice barely above a breath. “If you’ll have me.”
„ abby , I said , I don't wanna . “ the girl huffs in frustration , gently pushing the blondes face out of her own face , rolling her eyes at the smoking habit .
„ one day it will kill you , abbs . “ but abby just shrugged , wrapping an arm around the girl . „ you are insufferable , seriously . “
warnings : fluff , kinda angst , kissing mentioned , f!reader , cigarette!addiction , no name mentioned . roommates , teens!off age , swearing / cussing
words : do I really have to count ?
the freckled girl has been waiting for her roommate who has been away , for a long time already && . it kinda pisses her off .
| seconds , minutes , hours — days ? that's a question that went through abby's head while smoking another cigarette . sitting by the window of their shared apartment .
why ? probably because they did not really end on good terms . they haven't even been a couple or something , more like a situation ship .
but abby has completely — utterly fallen in love with her , not sure how to fix this . oh , not at all . flickering her cigarette out , stuffing it into an ashtray while a sigh escaped their chapped lips .
„ where is she ? “ damnit , abby pulled out her phone , quickly opening the messenger , trembling fingers hovering over their chat .
„ fuck ! “ she cusses out , angry at herself but unable to message them . „ c'mon — abby , get yourself together ! “
trying to encourage herself but ending up to leave the chat && . just wait a bit more . when the clock suddenly clicks to almost midnight — the door opens .
abby was immediately on her feet , a smile on her face . „ hey — “ , „ hey , oh sorry . did I wake you up ? “
the blond shakes her head , walking over to the other girl . „ where have you been , name ? it's almost , whatever it is midnight . “
looking up at abby , blinking then rolling her eyes , a bit of alcohol lingered on her . „ there was a big party at ellie's . but I told you that I will be home late . “
she huffs , shaking her head once again before grabbing onto their shoulders . „ I know — I just , I don't know . . . it's late . “
„ you were smoking again , weren't you ? “ name asked , stepping a bit away . „ I hate it . . . “ muttering , almost inaudible .
the blonde sighs , running a hand trough her messy braid , which was already loose anyways .
„ yes . “ was all she could muster up , being slightly ashamed but every time something bad or hurtful happens — she needed a good smoke . or when her thoughts were messing with her head .
„ you are always falling back into bad habits — this needs to stop , really abbs . “ a hand reaches out to cup their cheek , slightly cradling . „ please ? I really want to help you “
staying in this position for a while , abby leaned into the soft , warm palm from the other one , eyes fluttered close .
„ I don't know how “ she admits , eyes opening , searching for theirs . „ I really don't know what to do . it's so hard , I just — 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸 name , I'm so fucking sorry , I never , I just . . . “
abby cusses , shaking her head in frustration while stepping back . „ it's late , we should go to bed . night . “
leaving with quick steps , letting name just stand there with a sad expression . „ goodnight , abby . . . “ whispering , making her way to her own room .
god , how awfully they missed each other but both being too stubborn to admit it . not even when abby was back in her sheets , cuddling with each other .
„ abby . . . ? hey , are you still awake “ playing with the blonde's hair , slightly pinching . „ hmm ? yes , yes , still awake . “
„ I don't know , we can't really function like this anymore , right ? I —- what are we , abby ? “
an uncomfortable silence settles over them , no on saying anything . just their slow breathing was the only sound in the room .
„ we are — friends , yes . friends with benefits . “ ouch , this one hurts . they never wanted it . not like this . this whole platonic but kissing stuff was just . . . off .
„ oh . oh okay , yes . “ muttering , swallowing deeply . eyes going back up to the ceiling , lips quivering .
abby felt stupid . why the hell did she even say something like that . fuck , fuck — FUCK . „ I'm sorry . “
„ it's okay . . . “ maybe one day , maybe then they will finally accept that they love each other but for now — maybe they are better off as friends or . . . even as strangers .
they were just hurting each other if they continue this . . . „ I can wait . “
⸻⸻
a/n : ahh , this is my first time writing a — yeah , whatever this is again . weird ending , I know 😭 also first time uploading something here !
maybe doing a part thingy out of here if it turns out good && . english is not my first language but I tried . not proofread 🙃
Imagine Yunho as your overprotective older brother.
Y/n age : 20
Y/n gender : female
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a warm summers day. You was in the guest bedroom of the guys dorms getting dressed for the day. You and Yunho were gonna have a sibling day. You had picked out a cute outfit, you looked in the mirror, seeing your crop top sitting just above your belly button. Your black jeans snug on your legs, you felt happy and confident.
''Sis you ready?!'' Yunho shouted to you.
''Now coming!'' You responded, grabbing your phone.
You headed downstairs to see Yunho standing at the bottom. He smiled at you, but it faded quickly when he saw your outfit.
''Nope, go change.'' He said.
''What? Why?'' You asked.
''Your not wearing a crop top out!'' He shouted.
''Its not that short! I wear them all the time!'' You responded.
''Too many boys will stare!'' He exclaimed.
''So what!'' You replied.
''Your my little sister! Your too young for boys!'' He shouted. You looked at him.
''Yun, I love you, but I'm 20 years old now. I won't do anything stupid and its a sibling day.'' You reassure him. He sighs, pulling you into a hug.
''Love you too sis, but I don't want you walking around in that.'' You sighed as he chuckled. You then saw Jongho wander in.
''Jongho what do you think of my outfit!?'' You exclaimed at the maknae. He was eating a cookie and looked at you. He then looked at Yunho and felt his heart drop.
''Choose your words carefully.'' Yunho spoke, his voice deep.
''Uh... y-you look great! I-I mean bad... N-No! I-I mean great!'' The youngest male stutters.
''Thanks.... I think.'' You said as he scurries off. You looked up at Yunho.
''Why'd you scare him?!'' You shouted at him.
''I didn't mean to! I said to pick his words carefully! He said you look great anyways!'' He responded.
''Ughh you always do this! Why do you have to be so overprotective?!'' I scream, waving my arms.
''Cause I love you! I'm scared you'll get hurt! I don't want that and especially don't want that to ever happen with one of the members! He exclaimed his confession.
''Yunho, I wouldn't date any of the members, they see me as a sister too. I get you want me safe and I love you too, but maybe dial down the protectiveness?'' You said, pulling him in for another hug. He sighed.
''I'll give it a try, but no boys.'' He agreed.
''One day?'' You asked.
''When you 55.'' He answered.
You both laughed and decided to go grab some food as a sibling day. You know that your older brother loves you dearly and just wants you safe. But one day, you'll have a boyfriend, or maybe a girlfriend.
”We’re gonna watch a scary movie. If that's cool with everybody?” Lip stated, and everyone agrees and manages to find a place to sit.
Ian and Mandy sit next to each other on the coach along with Carl and Debbie while Lip and you sit on the floor. Quickly, as you land on the ground, you rush to grab a blanket and use it to cover your whole body with only your head poking out, which makes Lip laugh at you.
You look over to him and ask, ”What?” The last of his laughs finishes, and he responds with, ”What are you doing? It’s hot tonight, yet you're covering yourself in the blanket.”
You let a small snicker and nudge him before saying, “Lip, I thought you were smart. Clearly, I need the blanket to protect as we watch this scary movie on the ground where it's easy for us to get taken. Did I mention we were on the unsafe ground?”
He shakes his head playfully at you and states, “I didn’t know you were such a scaredy cat.”
“I’m not. It's just logic.”
He scratched his head and laughed dead at your face, so you nudged him and told him, ”Stop laughing!“ He moved in a little closer, so his shoulder was touching yours and challenged you by saying, ”Or what?”
“This.” You punched Lip a few times; then, he quickly gave in and put his hands up in surrender; then, he asked, “Why do you hit so hard?”
“I just do. By the way, watch out for me because I didn’t use all my strength.”
“I guess I shouldn't mess with you.” Lip says getting close to your face.
”Damn right.“ You respond and move away from his face. Lip is about to keep it going when Carl interrupts, ”Shh! The movies is starting.” While the movie plays, they all scream here and there.
In the end, Debbie had already been gone at half the movie; however, Carl and Mandy ended up asleep. Thus, Lip had to take Carl to his room while Ian took Mandy to his bed to call it a night.
You were cleaning up the mess you’d all made pretty quickly and were about to set up the couch to sleep on when Lip came back down to with a confused expression. He stopped your movements with a touch of his hand and he asked, “What are you doing?”
You answer, ”Setting up a place to sleep.”
He shook his head seriously at you and said, “No. You can't sleep there.”
“Why?”
“I'm sure Frank will be here soon, and he will probably end up there so you know it would be weird if you slept there and you don’t know what's happened here.”
“Say no more. Where will I sleep then? I’m surprised I didn’t think of this sooner. Like your house is pretty big, but there’s so many people here.”
“I’ll show you.” He simply said. He latched onto your hand now, but you tried not to think anything of it and let him pull you along. He walked you upstairs and led you to his shared room. He stopped at his bunk. He looked up to it; then, he gave you a bright smile. You looked to his bed than at him. You shook your head and said, “No.”
”You'll sleep with me.” You let go of his hand and tried to make out a response. As you fail to do so, he gives you a soft smile before he puts a hand on your shoulder and tells you, “Hey look, it won't be weird if you don’t make it.”
You give in with an of answer, “Fine.”, and you go to the bathroom to brush your teeth.
While you were in the bathroom, Lip runs to brush his teeth downstairs. He takes a look at himself and downs some mouthwash. He rushes back upstairs. He felt hot, so he decided to take off his shirt; also, he did want to show off a bit for you.
While things with Karen wre complicated, he had to admit you had an effect on him, and he wanted to be closer to you. At the time, he’d hoped he could attract you with his body since his behavior and actions weren't cutting it.
You come back to see a sleeping Mandy, Ian, and a shirtless Lip. You can't help looking a little too long, which Lip liked. He smirks at you and asks, “Ready for bed?”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
You brush off the butterflies and go up the bed first with Lip followed after turning off the lights. You weren’t used to facing the wall, so it left you and Lip face to face.
In order to distract yourself a bit, you took out your phone to set an alarm. After you put your phone down, your eyes immediately meet his face to see him smiling at you.
You ask him, “What?”
He shrugs and responds, “I don't know I like looking at you.”
As you think he’s joking or just saying, you answer, ”Okay then.“
You were going to leave at that and sleep when he put a hand on your arm and told you, “Hey I'm serious.“
As Lip finds himself moving a strand of hair from your face, he consciously left his hand on your cheek. He looked at you like you in an adoring way you’d never seen.
Despite protesting his advances before, in the moment, when he leaned in, you wanted to kiss him just as much as he wanted to kiss you. You don’t let out another thought and just think about what you feel. You feel like you want his lips on yours.
Finally, your lips meet, and you devour each other's lips. His want for you is evident. Then, all the restraint you put behind a dam had burst. When you pull away, you're both breathless, but Lip manages the word, “Wow.”
Processing your actions, you can only ask, ”What did we just do?”
“Make out obviously. I think you were there.” You shoved him slightly gently, which made him say, ”Ow.”
“Why would you-”
“Because I wanted to.”
“You can't be doing that. You’re with Karen, and that's not changing.”
“Me and Karen are not together. You’re single so there is nothing wrong on your part.”
“It's not right.”
“So?” He lays a small kiss on your neck that spreads heat everywhere and renders you motionless to overwhelming and welcomes affliction. With every next word, he continues to kiss along your neck. “Why. does. everything. have. to. be. Right?”
With his intense gaze weakening your resolve, you shut your eyes and sigh before stating, ”Stop that.”
“But, you're enjoying it.” Even with your eyes closed, you could tell he was smiling with the beautiful smile he had, which was tempting you.
“That's not the point. I've already made myself clear.”
You go to get up, but Lip gets on top of you and says, ”Y/N...You don’t have to be so technical all the time. Just feel. I want you.”
“No.” Your shoulder was slightly exposed, so he took the chance to lay a few chase kisses before tempting and saying, “Yes.”
“No?” He kisses your lips again, and you didn’t have any more strength to fight your feelings.
While things were getting more heated, your phone took away from it as it rang. You looked to see that it was your dad on the phone. You curse under your breath, considering you didn’t ask to sleep over, and they weren’t supposed to be home. You answer it and say, “Hey dad.”
“We’re coming home early. We’ll see you soon.”
“How soon?”
“We’re in the traffic near downtown, so maybe 30 minutes or 1 hour.” You hang up.
”Shit. My folks are coming home.” You get up.
”Where are you going?”
“Home. Obviously.” You leave to go get your stuff, and Lip follows.
”At least let me drive you.” He takes Steve's keys.
“Fine.” You go out into the car, and you bounce your leg like crazy during the drive. Lip puts a hand on your thigh and tells you, ”I’ll get you home, don’t worry.”
“Just drop me off, and I’ll get home. Thank you, Lip.” You go to get out when he says, “No. I have to make sure you get inside.”
“Li-” You look to the location on your phone to see them very close.
As Lip finishes parking, you quickly get your keys inside, and you drag Lip inside. You lock the door and rush upstairs with Lip behind you.
You could hear the car lock and knew they’d come check on you. ”Where can I hide you? He’ll come in here first.” You hear the door close downstairs. ”Shit. Get in the covers.”
You throw one of the pillows to the floor, and you snuggle with Lip. You hear the door open. Lip could hear and feel how scared your heart was as he laid on your chest. Whoever came in seemed to come in really quick and leave. You let out a sigh of relief and wait a while until you could hear them downstairs. Finally, you sit up and detangle yourself.
“That was terrifying.”
“What’s the worst that could have happened?”
“Who knows?”
“You don’t get out much do you?”
“Not like this. Now, you have to go.”
“Do I really have to?” He comes up to you and holds your hands. You shake your hands away from him and open the window. You give him a nod to the window and tell him, “Go. My roof leads to the other roof, and it leads to the garbage can, and lastly the drawer.”
“Fine.”
“Thank you.“
He smiled at you and commented, “I think I’ll have to use this route again.”
You couldn’t help responding with a smile and laugh. You move in closer as he actually goes out the window to make sure he’s okay.
With you being so close, he turned around toward you and expressed, ”Wait. One more thing.”
You give him a confused look, but you wait nonetheless. You watch as one of his hands holds onto the window ledge, so you were surprised when he suddenly pulls you gently by the neck to kiss you. You move back, despite the content of the moment. You throw a shoe toward him, which makes him fall on the roof. You hear him say, “Fuck,” in a surprisingly upbeat tone. You stick your head out to see if he was okay, and he stood there with a smile. ”Fuck.” You shake your head at him and reveal in the feeling only he seemed to provoke from you.
Jisoo hummed, turning her achilles heel to where Jennie was staring, and blinked almost unbelievably when she grasped it.
"Shit. I told you to not look. Are you dumb?" Jisoo felt something wrapped into her wrist and there, she saw Jennie holding it tightly, and tried to walk them into somewhere private where she couldn't see, but Jisoo didn't want to run anymore. She was exhausted.
"It's okay," she says as she sucks her breath. "I'm fine, Jennie. It's okay. It's been six months, I'm sure... I'm sure she's fine too."
Jisoo knew she had said it with a tight smile because Jennie was giving her the look, the familiar look she had seen over the past few months, and honestly, Jisoo was getting sick of it. It was time for a change.
"Are you sure?" Jennie pulled her wrist to her chest and drew small circles on it.
Jisoo nodded. She hoped her smile wasn't too tight for Jennie to notice, but then again, nothing goes undetected once you've got Jennie Kim's eyes locked on you.
"Are you really really sure that you're going to be fine? Because if you're not, I'm going to ditch the party and just have movie marathons with you."
Jisoo scoffed a smile as she pulled her hand away from Jennie's grasp. That earned an alarming look from Jennie, and Jisoo noticed that, but she only gave her a kind smile.
These past few months, Jennie Kim has been nothing but a sweet, protective cheeseball to her, and Jisoo appreciates her best friend for always being there when she needs her most. However, she couldn't let herself become like this every time she saw her. Jisoo doesn't want to allow herself to be dependent. She refuses to.
"I am fine now, Jennie." Jisoo tangled her hand with Jennie's and smiled almost brightly, almost as if she had almost let herself be fooled for once that she was fine. when she was not.
"I'm fine," she repeated, but this time, she murmured it under her breath, and looked up with a slight crooked smile. She was going to stay strong today.
"Do you want me to fetch you some wine? I heard there's champagne here."
"I'm fine, Chu. It's just, I'm worried about y-"
"I'm going to get two champagnes for us, alright? Don't go anywhere. Lisa would be here soon."
Jisoo forced her two feet to walk and left Jennie without waiting for her reply. Jennie was too much of a nagged today and Jisoo wasn't in a mood to hear such a nag. In fact, all she wanted to do at this instant was to focus on why she came here today: pose for photographers, drink some champagne, and let herself have a break for once. She's not going to allow herself to sulk in the corner just because the love of her life was standing right there.
Well, the ex-love of her life, that is.
Jisoo drank two shots of whiskey when she felt a lump in her throat. No, not today. She wasn't going to let Chaeyoung win today. Not now, not tomorrow, and never. She wouldn't give her satisfaction about what their break up had done to Jisoo. However, she admitted it did leave a hole in her heart.
Jisoo closed her eyes for a second and tried to think about the beach house she had brought last year. Struggling, Jisoo tried to hear the waves in her ears. She pictured herself as she sat on the sand while she looked at the sun embracing the sea. She had tried to hum a song in her head, but when Jisoo did, the only song that came out of her lips was what Chaeyoung had taught her last year. It was Chaeyoung's favorite song, if ain't got you by Alicia Keys.
What was wrong with her? Sometimes, Jisoo wishes she could reset her memory of Chaeyoung and just delete them fore-
"Hi."
Jisoo had stiffened up in her place when she heard a voice that had been hunting her for months. It was Chaeyoung's voice. Jisoo could not doubt it. She was certain it was Chaeyoung's voice, her favorite person.
"Hey," Jisoo said, turning around with a phony smile.
"How are you?"
"Cool. You?"
Chaeyoung had stiffened in her position. That didn't go unnoticed by Jisoo, and she hated herself for how much she remembered. She doesn't need a fucking witch marble to guess, because until now, she still memorized how Chaeyoung spoke, how she moved, and more importantly, how she imperfectly tried to hide her emotions before Jisoo. Chaeyoung was still the book Jisoo had adored so much.
"I'm fine. Actually, doing well..." Chaeyoung touched the rim of her champagne glass and smiled a little. She was not.
Jisoo flashed a small smile as she pretended to not notice. She was not here to emphathize. She was here to lose herself, fuck around, and drink some champagne for once in her life, and she's going to do that even if the love of her life is standing right in front of her.
Who cares anyway? She was not Chaeyoung's anymore.
"That's nice. I have to go now. Bye, Chae-"
"Wait!"
Jisoo halted her steps and stared at Chaeyoung. Chaeyoung was looking at the floor, almost like a shy school girl, and for once, it made Jisoo coo about how adorable she was.
"...I'm sorry."
And when Jisoo thought she couldn't freeze any more, she was proven wrong. She felt she couldn't even lift an inch of her finger when she heard and felt how sincere Chaeyoung was.
"I'm sorry, Jisoo." She repeats. Almost like she was pleading for her to comeback. Jisoo didn't like it a bit.
Jisoo tightened her grip on the monkey bar she was holding in her mind. She wouldn't falter. She wouldn't allow herself to. But when she saw that Chaeyoung was in a state to cry and could feel just how vulnerable and naked Chaeyoung was, she felt she needed to take their issue somewhere where eyes and the camera lens could not see them, so she grabbed Chaeyoung's wrist, and let her steps lead them their way.
Jisoo had let go of Chaeyoung's wrist when they reached the balcony. And when silence engulfed them, Jisoo sighed so loudly, reached out to ruffle her own hair, and felt Chaeyoung's eyes burning on her.
Jisoo turned her head and she wished she didn't, because as soon as she saw. She took the hanky from her pocket and gave it to Chaeyoung.
"Don't cry," Jisoo looked at the flat view. "People will think I bullied you or something."
Somehow, Jisoo heard a chuckle and she smiled a little. She could still hear Chaeyoung sniffling, and Jisoo remembered so dearly how she would wrap her arms around her just to comfort Chaeyoung.
She hates this. She doesn't.
"How's Jennie?" Jisoo held back her head to turn.
"She's fine," Jisoo smiles. "She's been a baby lately. She wouldn't refuse to leave me alone. She wouldn't even let me go out alone. She's like a glue stick to me."
"Except now?"
"Except now," Jisoo repeats and chuckles. She hoped it wasn't too forced.
She heard no response from Chaeyoung, and when Jisoo turned her head, their eyes met. And for a split second, Jisoo wanted to know how it felt to be in Chaeyoung's arms again. Chaeyoung's eyes were burning red, her face was puffy, and Jisoo cursed herself for that.
I'm still longing for you. I hate you.
"I miss you, you know." Chaeyoung said, her voice almost strained as she stilled her gaze.
A bitter laugh escaped from Jisoo's lips. "Yeah. Sure you do."
"I'm serious."
"You don't, Chaeyoung."
"I miss yo-"
"If you missed me, why didn't you come for me?" Jisoo snapped. Chaeyoung had pursed her lips as she stared down at the floor.
"Don't tell me you missed me if you don't mean it," She whispered. "It hurts me."
"But I mean it, Jisoo."
Suddenly, Jisoo felt something warm on her hand, and there, she saw Chaeyoung's hand resting on top of her. She looked up slowly and met Chaeyoung's intense gaze. Oh how she missed those eyes staring at her lovingly.
"I'm sorry for not fighting for us," She whispered and Jisoo let Chaeyoung play her fingers.
"I'm sorry for not being there with you when you needed us to fight for the relationship we have. You were right, I was a coward for not fighting for us." Chaeyoung started to draw small circles as she continued to talk. Tears were starting to stream down to her cheeks.
"I was just so afraid to defy them, Jisoo. You have to understand that they were the only family I had at that time, and I didn't want to disappoint them... No child wants to let their parents down. They were against of our relationship when I told them about us... so I thought of leaving you in order to stop their disappointment in me, but it didn't work.
I just want them to love me for who I am, Soo, but they never did. They never loved me for who I am, and I'm sorry..."
Without a word, Jisoo held her tears back, and pulled Chaeyoung closer to her embrace. For six months, Jisoo had always wondered what, where, and when she had gone wrong. What was wrong with her for Chaeyoung to leave her just like a rug? She had always thought she was the only one suffering from their break up, and their relationship didn't mean that much to Chaeyoung. Turns out, it did. Chaeyoung just happened to be good at being silent about it.
Chaeyoung was still sobbing uncontrollably into Jisoo's embrace and Jisoo was trying her best to whisper words that she remembered that would calm Chaeyoung.
"Hey, listen to me. Chaeyoung, it's alright. You hear me, It's oka-"
"No, you listen to me." Chaeyoung cuts off, pulling herself away as she sniffed and wiped her own tears. "I hurt you badly, Jisoo. You don't deserve that. You never do. My reason for what I did to you doesn't justify it. Still, I'm sorry... I'm sorry for breaking your heart."
Jisoo's eyes were tearing up as she listened and looked at Chaeyoung. This was her first time seeing this side of Chaeyoung, so desperate for forgiveness, so sincere, and so vulnerable. What happened? Jisoo pulled Chaeyoung back to her embrace and patted her head wordlessly. "I'm really sorry, Soo."
Jisoo didn't speak a word, instead she kept her position and held Chaeyoung close to her.
"I look horrible..." Chaeyoung murmured, pulling herself away to wipe off the smudged eyeliner.
Jisoo broke into a fit of laughter, and when Chaeyoung saw it, for the first time in the past six months, she felt warm in her stomach and pouted.
"Don't laugh."
"I'm not."
"You did." Chaeyoung narrowed her eyes accusingly and trailed her finger down to Jisoo's chest with a sad smile.
"Tell me something I don't know, Jisoo."
Jisoo smiled. "I forgive you, Chaeyoung."
Chaeyoung widened her eyes in shock, and Jisoo chuckled as she reached out and tucked Chaeyoung's blonde hair at the side. "Tell me something I don't know, Chaeyoung."
"I want us back, Jisoo," Chaeyoung muttered and took Jisoo's hands on hers. "I want us to try again. At a slow pace, or whatever you want, and this time I will fight for you, Jisoo."
With so much sincerity in her eyes, Jisoo knew Chaeyoung would fight for them, and so she leans closer and clashes their lips together. It's been six months since Jisoo got the taste of those lips and until now, it still felt sweet and beautiful. She adored every inch of it. Chaeyoung had circled her arms around Jisoo's neck and tightened them. She had missed Jisoo's lips too, and she was ready to risk it all just to get to taste those lips.
She was ready to risk everything for them to try again. Jisoo was worth it. She was worth it. Their relationship was worth fighting for.
When Jisoo had pulled from the kiss, she spoke something and that was enough for Chaeyoung to cry more, but instead of sadness, she cried in happiness.
Don't Look Back (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/Hg4PRtUBOY Dean does what Dean does. He leaves Y/N to "keep her safe". Dean's POV Song lyrics from Black by Pearl Jam
