#m: it was just mochi harassment hour like an hour ago!!!

[musubiki]

its mochi harassment hour

[suna-reversed]

Talking to the moon🌙

Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

minors DNI‼️

3k+ words

(quote^^ by- Richard Siken)

warnings/tags- blood and violence. oral (f.recieving), vaginal sex, anal, dacryphilia, slight praise, slight degradation, fingering. age gap. toxic relationship. mentions of harassment. yandere themes implied. heartbreak, moving on. fluff. angst. hurt/comfort. (all characters are aged up!)

Gojo Satoru is the moon. Ever changing and radiant. Beaming with light, even when he doesn't have any of his own. And much like the moon, parts of him stay hidden in an ominous darkness as he leaves you cold and alone in the tangled mess of sheets, wondering why your lover disappears at the crack of every dawn.

You had met him a while ago when he had first come into the bakery you worked at part-time, dazzling pearls on show as he ordered every single flavour of mochi off the menu. You didn’t know where it started; how the simple exchanges turned into conversations that lasted up to hours, your manager practically having to shoo him away so that you’d stop getting distracted.

You got used to him visiting you in the day during work, sitting on the barstool near the bakery counter, talking your ear off about the most random of things while he stuffed his face with mochi. You sometimes wondered how you happened to have so much in common with a man so much more older than you. 

You couldn't exactly remember how those innocent conversations turned into you being splayed across the marble kitchen countertop of your apartment at 3 am, the joyous man now turned into a ferocious beast as he devoured you whole, holding your legs apart, tongue licking in between your folds with such fervour that made it seem as if it was the last meal of his life. 

In all honesty, you didn’t know a lot about him, except for the fact that he worked at a private institute and often travelled overseas. He’d be as silent as a mouse as he slipped out of your place before sunrise each time. He never told you why, and eventually you stopped asking- the warmth and comfort of his body too addictive to have to give up for the question of ‘what are we?’ being answered.

On days that you’d find yourself waking up early, you’d simply let your eyes roam over the muscles of his back, adoring the dimples at the bottom of his spine, memorising each blemish, scar and mark as if you’d never see it again. You sometimes found yourself wishing he’d take off the peculiar fabric covering his eyes- your mind could barely fathom the shade of his orbs.

You knew that he was always aware of you being awake. But he didn’t acknowledge it, whether by accident or choice, you could never tell. So every time he’d finish pulling his shirt over his head, you’d roll away, focusing your mind out the window on the half disappearing moon instead of the crushing weight on your chest. 

Perhaps, this was the love they never told you about. The love that wasn’t afternoon picnics and obnoxious public displays of affection. The love that wasn’t late night grocery runs and feeding each other food at cafes.

Instead, this was the love that had you deleting messages and cleaning up the strands of ashy hair from your shower drain. The love that had you lying to your friends about the marks on your neck and pretending like he didn’t just have you pinned down beneath him the night before as you served him coffee.

Every morning that you woke up alone in bed, sore and unclothed from the events of the previous night, you found yourself thinking of ways that you’d turn him away the next time he showed up at your door. But then the bell would ring, and your feet would be carrying you to the half broken man covered in bruises and blood before you could think of it.

This time, you’re sure you tell him to go away, to stop treating you as if you were some toy, slamming the door in his crestfallen face. But then why do you find yourself clutching onto his scarlet stained jacket in the bathroom? The first aid box discarded to the side as you sob into his chest, a hand stroking your hair as he assures you he’s fine. 

That night, you find him buried deep inside of you, your heavy breathing filling the silence of the air, your back to his chest. The arms around you feel unbearably tight as he pulls you even closer to him. Why is he trying to snatch all the warmth from your body?

The hot breath of his mouth is right next to your ear. He’s telling you he wants to be tender and merciful while his teeth are digging into your jugular, the hand around your throat tightening as his hips rut into you harder. He does not wipe away the tears flowing freely down your face.

The next morning, you find a burning sensation rising in your chest as you stare at the empty space next to you; his underlying scent of strawberries and citrus still lingering.

What had you been expecting? Why would this night have been different from any other?

That question is answered when you realise the unfamilair feeling of a cold metal wrapped around your ankle while climbing out of bed. Looking down, you see that it's a thin silver anklet with two charms hanging off of it.

His initials and a crescent moon.

You can’t help the smile that’s on your face for the rest of the day.

--------

You're panting, the drumming of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, vision blurring as you try to make it back home. You’re gripping onto the walls to keep yourself from falling, the pain in your body near unbearable as you somehow manage to unlock the door, not even making it past the entrance as you crumble apart right there, curling in on yourself as broken sobs leave your chest. 

The sound of footsteps has you shutting your eyes, flinching from the pain and fear of knowing you can’t fight. The terror of your attacker being in your home makes your cries even louder.

Instead, you find your senses being flooded by the familiar scent of strawberries and the cologne that you bought him- warm muscular arms come to wrap around your figure, lifting you up. You’re still crying as he settles you down onto the bed, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

He lifts your shirt to reveal the expanse of wounds littered across your abdomen. An unreadable expression remains on his face as he skillfully cleans off the blood, fixing you up like you’ve done for him a dozen times. You don’t remember telling him where you were injured. Could the blood be seen through your shirt? None of it matters as he pushes you back down onto the plush mattress, your eyes fluttering close you as fall into a deep fitful slumber. 

It’s a full moon tonight, the light cascading through your window providing you an odd sense of comfort. You turn over in the dark, gasping a little as your eyes lock onto a pair of strange azure ones. Your mind is still heavy from the medicines you took, perhaps that’s why you don’t react, simply staring into the unfamiliar eyes on a face that you recognised better than the back of your own hand.

His slender pale fingers are trailing over the skin of your abdomen. Shouldn't it hurt more? A hand comes up to your face, gently cradling your chin as he examines the scratch on your jaw. Your heart skips a beat as his soft lips press a chaste kiss onto your brow. His voice is low and tense, anger barely restrained as he asks,

“Who did this to you?”

You try to form a response, but all you can hear is the shallow echo of the beating of your half-dead heart. Your chest feels hollow as words finally rise to the tip of your tongue, eyes dry as you tell him all of it. How a strange force had pinned you against a wall when you were walking back home, how the man who appeared from the shadows of the dark alley didn’t even lift a finger, yet it felt like each bone in your body was being cracked apart. How you barely felt the pain of the broken bottle that impaled your flesh as you were thrown aside, the stranger parting from you with just four words,

“Consider this a warning.”

You don’t care how crazy you sound as you explain the bizarre events that occurred. You don’t care that his orbs are as blue and twice as deep as the mariana trench. You don’t care that for once, his eyes hold something other than just lust as he looks at you.

Your throat feels raw by the time you finish, and it hurts to look at his pitiful face so you roll onto your side, fixing your eyes on the shimmering celestial body outside your window. You both lay in silence for a while.

“I liked thinking of you as the moon at times.”

The calm in your voice startles Gojo, but he remains quiet, wanting you to continue. It doesn’t matter if it's gibberish, doesn't matter if it’s words of hatred, of doubt, of regret; he’ll take it as long as there’s something- as long as you’re speaking. His arms tremble around you a little as a bitter laugh escapes your chest. 

“But at the end of the day,” you pause, taking a deep breath, “...all I am, is a mere star in a galaxy full of constellations.”

The raw sob that rips from your chest is a surprise to both you and Gojo.

“Tell me who cares about a star that burns out and explodes?” your voice is barely above a whisper as you turn around to face him.

For once in his life, Gojo Satoru can’t joke, fight or fuck his way out of a situation. A strange weight has been on his chest ever since he saw your eyes. The light and joy stripped out of them as he found himself staring back at his own reflection. 

His eyes glance down at the dip of your collarbone, the arch of your shoulder that he wanted to reside in forever, now covered in small scars. He knows who hurt you. 

He pulls you closer to him, tangling his feet with yours, the strip of metal around your ankle clinking at the movement. Perhaps it was a huge mistake to have bought you something so carelessly, knowing that the eyes of a few dozen enemies followed him wherever he went. 

He finds himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melds his lips with yours. You sigh into his mouth and he kisses you even deeper, almost desperately as if trying to pass over his own breaths to you- as if trying to bring you back to life. He finds the taste of salt on his tongue and the wet drops falling onto his cheeks makes his flesh burn. He doesn't know whose they are as he continues to try and cling onto the shell of what was once a whole person. 

“Please” he finds himself mumbling as he pulls you even closer, heart cracking as you continue sniffing into his chest. 

“It hurts- it hurts- so much” You’re sobbing now, his own body shaking in tandem with yours.

Who is he to deny you when you look up at him, the broken plea leaving your mouth, 

“Make it stop please.”

---

Gojo finds the cold metal of his own initials pressing against the side of his face as he hoists your legs over his shoulder. His fingers are pressing down against your sensitive nub, spreading around your slick before he pumps two of his fingers into you. You buck your hips up, cries escaping you as his tongue licks your clit, suctioning it into his mouth as he increases the pace of his fingers.

You’re cumming undone within seconds, begging him to fill you up. He’s never so easily given in to your demands, but tonight, it’s as if he’s only there to serve your wishes. The sickening thought of getting hurt again just so that you’d get this treatment creeps up in the back of your mind. 

You moan as you feel him line his thick girth with your entrance, the tip catching onto your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rubs it between your dripping heat. He leans forward, pushing your legs up and safely tucking them against your chest, before crashing his lips against yours. It’s messy and rushed; tongue against tongue, spit drooling out as he pushes himself inside of you in one long stroke. The burn of it has you groaning into his mouth, hands moving to tangle into his hair. His thrusts are deep and angled, the feeling of it settling deep in your belly. 

“Fuck- you look so-fucking-pretty underneath me like this”

His words of praise are muffled against your lips, further drowned out by your moans as one of his hands moves down to play with your clit. You’re screaming his name as the coil in your stomach snaps, his own restraint breaking as he finishes, painting your walls with his seed. 

It’s not the first time you find yourself screaming and moaning that night. His cock is inside of you in one way or the other through the entirety of the next few hours- whether it be deep down your throat as his hands pull your hips down to his face, moaning at the taste of himself leaking from your cunt - or stretching the walls of your puckered asshole, the lube he pumped in with his slender fingers dripping out as he presses you to the shower wall, a hand coming forward to fondle your tits as his face falls onto your shoulder, grunting into your ear while he pistons in and out of your tight hole. 

You can barely move a muscle by the time you’re done, body and mind numb from both the exhaustion and overstimulation as he pulls the covers over the two of you, limbs entangled with each other’s, skin against skin, his hands rubbing circles onto your spine.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again.” 

You’re barely conscious as he whispers that, humming and burying your face deeper into his cozy heat as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You do not notice the solemn drop of moisture that escapes his eye, falling onto your cheek, a thumb brushing it away just as quickly, as if it was never there. Just as he wishes he could brush away his own existence from your life- no- just as he was going to.

“...I promise.”

---

When your eyes flutter open, they are not met with the moon.

Instead, the light of the rising sun casts a rosy hue across your room. And for once, you do not feel cold as you spread out your legs to take more of the space on the expanse of your empty bed. The sunlight does not feel like a curse anymore, even if the nostalgia of the moon’s glow stays buried somewhere deep in your heart. 

But at least there’s no more crying going to bed alone each night; no more hours of scrolling through social media looking for someone who doesn’t exist; no more one night stands and low grade hookups trying to fulfil the ever-growing void in your heart. 

In fact, you find yourself going out more, singing along to songs in the shower once again, even making friends with a regular trio that starts coming into your bakery every other day. They told you they’re college students too, all around your age, and you find yourself smiling a little more than necessary at one of them, even if a pair of ocean eyes floods the back of your mind each time that you do. You’re still hurting and healing, but at least you are moving forward. 

“At least he kept his promise”  You find yourself thinking as you climb out of bed, sighing in disappointment at the clinking of charms around your ankle. 

—-

“At least I kept my promise.” 

It had become Gojo’s new-found mantra. Every time he saw you drunk out of your mind at a bar, deftly bribing the bartender to replace your ordered shots with water instead. Every time he saw a random body pressed to yours, their tongue exploring your sweet mouth as you pushed them into your apartment. And especially that one time he found himself standing over the half-beaten body of the man who had tried to grope you on the bus. 

“At least I kept my promise- at least she’s safe.”

He knew his actions were of a mad man. Even though he took care of the problem which had hurt you in the first place, he still found himself paranoid. Following you around every other night, making sure you were still here- still alive under the same sky as him, under the same sun and moon and stars. He told himself he was doing it for you- even if he found his heart swell every time he saw the familiar glint of the silver trinket around your ankle.

-----

“No way!” You find yourself laughing around a mouth full of mochi.  

“No- I swear he likes you, he just doesn't want to admit it, you know how he-” 

“What are you two talking about?”

You both immediately snap your mouths shut as he returns from the restroom, sliding into the seat on his side of the booth. 

“Nothing!” you reply in unison. 

“Anyways, do you want me to get you anything else? Something that this idiot wouldn't shove into my mouth?” You joke, tapping your pen against the notepad. 

“Hey! I just wanted you to taste how delicious the mochi was!”

“I know- I made it!”

A loud cough breaks your banter with the light haired boy, 

“I-I do actually want to ask for something”

“Of course, what can I get you? The ginger tea you like?”

“Well- what I want is-” he pauses, and you don’t miss the mischievous glint in the eyes of his friend sitting across the table. 

“I’d like to take you to the festival at the park.”

You’re halfway through writing it down on the notepad before you realise what he’s asked, your head snapping up to see the slightly flushed tint on his cheeks as he glares at the howling boy across the table. Your own face heats up as he looks towards you expectantly. 

“You don’t have to if you-”

“Pick me up at 4”

“Oh” butterflies race in your stomach at the smile that he gives you, “...okay, 4 it is.” 

------

Weeks go by and you don’t realise the slow mending of your heart. Your broken pieces coming together each time he holds your hand, each time he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, each time he whispers words of affirmations into your ear, and each time he comforts your shaking body, apologising for kissing your brow- even if he doesn’t understand why it made you cry. 

Eventually, you learn to not mind being just a mere star in the vast expanse of the cosmo.

You didn’t care because he looked at you like you held the universe in your eyes, cradling your face with such gentleness as if you were precious china. You didn’t care because when his lips came down onto yours, it felt like the collision of stars- your own little supernovae in the curve of his cupid’s bow. You didn’t care because when you woke up, you’d find him peppering kisses across the purple constellations he left the night before. 

You didn’t care because you never woke up cold and alone anymore.

------

“I’ll be back in just a second.” 

You find yourself saying as you move your head off his lap, waving to your other two friends, their own counterparts lounging beside them. 

“Is everything okay?’ 

He’s always so tender- except for when he has you splayed across the bed on your stomach, hips thrusting into yours as he tells you what a good slut you are for him- just for him. Heat crawls up your face at the memory from a few nights ago. The fingers wrapping your hand snap your mind out of its perverse refuge. Looking down, you find concern-filled eyes staring back at you. 

“Yeah, I just want to take a walk alone by the beach- get some air.” You reply, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.  

The sound of the waves lapping against the shore in the dark and the fresh sea breeze on your face is refreshing. You make a mental note to thank Nobara for dragging you onto this trip. You stop as you find a cozy spot in the sand, giving you a perfect view of the moonlit sea.

You don’t know how long you sit there, thinking of a particular set of emerald eyes and long lashes, your smile faltering as the promise ring on your finger grazes the forgotten metal on your ankle. Your face remains neutral as you unhook it, even if it feels like cutting your own hand off, but that’s all there is to it - familiarity and nostalgia. There’s no blackhole in your chest, ready to open up and swallow you whole, there are no tears shed as you bury the piece of junk into the sand, and there is no looking back as you walk away, back into the arms of your precious ‘gumi. 

Gojo stands at the rooftop, one hand clutching the sand covered jewellery, the other pulling down a side of his blindfold as he watches you entangle yourself in the arms of another, laughing as he places a kiss on the top of your brow. You’re happy, that’s all that matters- still, the irony of the situation pricks at him - especially after all he did to keep you away from his world. 

He had initially found himself at a loss for words when you had told him that he was the moon, and you, just a star. If you were to ask him again, Gojo would agree, but with only half of it.

He may have been the moon, but you were a galaxy full of stars and planets that harboured dreams and wishes he could never fathom. His mind kept flickering back to the constellations he littered your body with as he now watched his own disciple press kisses into the crook of your neck. 

Nonetheless, he found his own lips twitching upwards- almost tragically, but the warmth in his chest was real as he saw the joy on your face. You were right; he was the moon after all. He had shone as bright as the sun itself despite not having any light of his own. Now he stood there watching the same light reflect off the dark-haired boy who held you in his arms, and suddenly, it all made sense.

Perhaps he should have found another way back then. Perhaps he shouldn’t have underestimated his ability to be able to protect you. Perhaps- 

it didn’t matter now. 

perhaps at the end of the day, the moon was nothing but a dreamer.

© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

[radiorenjun]

Lavender Antics

→ Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

→ Summary: Shooting in a drama with him was your absolute nightmare. Working with your enemy and pretending that you were love interests has been the most frustrating experience of your life. Though, after saying your farewells, the scent of lavender never leaves.

→ Genre:enemies to lovers au, idol au, romance, angst, slowburn, comedy.

→ Warnings: Explicit Language. Antics. Mentions of insecurity. Alcohol, Making out. Suggestive?

→ Chapters: 3, 4, 5

"Okay, so, today we went out for some onigiris and lemme just say. These things are literally to die for!" you groaned exaggeratedly, taking out a packaged onigiri from your bag which you bought earlier. You were video chatting with your members, making them suffocate as they watch you devour the rice treat.

"Man, I wish we could've snuck in some back when we were there for our tour." Kiyeon groaned, wiping the drool off the corners of her lips. "Fuck you, y/n! I'm hungry now, and I just had lunch! Not even 30 minutes ago!" Haneul whined.

You laughed, almost choking on rice. "Look at the bright side. When someone asks what did I eat to become so attractive, I could just say 'rice'" you say with a smug shrug. "You did not just quote Jackson Wang while eating an onigiri." Jaehwa huffed with a shake of her head.

"And on the other side, package us some onigiri. Watching you eat in such an ASMR way is making me crave Japan food," Cheonsa chuckled. You took a big bite of the rice treat in your hand before shaking your head, "bitch, you wish you were me right now. But for unceremoniously embarrassing me-"

"Well we attempted, you ran away."

"Embarrassing me! I think y'all don't deserve this exquisite treat." You rolled your eyes when your members cut you off in the middle of your sentence. "Jesus Christ, I'll book a ticket to Japan right now and-" Kiyeon grumbled angrily, opening her phone to pretend as if she was purchasing a ticket.

"Don't be such drama queens. There's onigiri in nearby supermarkets, you could just buy some. Or even better, make some!" you laughed, throwing away the plastic wrapper in the dustbin. "Make some? Girl, who do you think we are? Gordon Ramsey? This ain't Masterchef. I ain't cooking shit if it doesn't mean I ain't getting some cash." Cheonsa sassed.

"Well, I-" you started before you heard a loud obnoxious groan that could be heard from the inner cores of the earth. "OH MY GOD," the male voice groaned in annoyance. Your eye twitched in annoyance as you let out a sigh, looking back at your co-star as you leaned back against your makeup chair.

"Y/n? Who's that?" Haneul asked. You didn't answer her as you continued to glare a hole into the boy, across the room from you,'s head. "Could you keep your masturbation down?" you snarled in annoyance.

"Y/n!" you heard your members scold in a motherly tone at your sexual insult but you ignored them. "ME? You're the one practically blasting your friend's voices up the roof, I could feel blood begging to ooze out of my ears." Jisung shot back.

"What's gotten your panties up in a twist, asshole? Forgot to take your daily dose of warm milk like a baby?" you hissed. "Okay, you two. Before you two start World War III in this here trailer I'm going to cut you both off and tell you that you guys have another scene to shoot." Your stage director chuckled.

You ignored Jisung's loud groan as you look back at your friends with a sympathetic look, "you guys heard the man. I gotta go," you smiled, your thumb hovering over the hang up button. "You better call us tonight, for real this time, y/n." Jaehwa jokes.

"Of course, even though you all treat me like shit, I miss you guys!" you exclaim with a giggle. "It's our job as members to treat you like shit. Plus you treat us the same." Kiyeon responded with an innocent nod. " What she meant was we miss you, too." Haneul gave the older girl a hard glare before waving goodbye at you.

"Bye!" you waved as your members did funny poses as they, too, waved. You giggle as you pressed the hang up button, putting your phone down on the table before walking out of the trailer.

As you arrived at the scene, your makeup artists touched you up with some small blush and brushes to adjust your hair and gave you your school bag. Jeongin standing with a bright smile next to you, "good to see you, y/n." he greeted.

"Jeongin, I literally saw you two minutes ago back when you were playing with your switch in your trailer." you chuckled. "Is it wrong for me to say hello to my little friend?" he smirked, holding the strap of his bag. "Little? I'm older than you." you laughed. "Older? Yes. Who debuted first, exactly? Me. So treat your senior with respect." Jeongin giggled as he got his props on.

"Alright guys, this is the scene where you two are just casually talking to each other and then Jisung runs up and etcetera. You know the drill, you read the script, now focus." your director announced through the speaker as he sat down on his chair.

"Lights! Camera! And Action!"

You clutched your phone as you layed down emotionlessly on the couch in your trailer. You just got news from your family that your grandmother had passed away a couple hours ago. Your mother called you to tell you the news in distraught.

Your sweet grandma that always forced you to eat whenever you were under the pressure of sustaining that perfect idol body. You felt numb and you didn't want to get up to shoot scenes anymore. You just want to be buried under layers of blankets and get up when all the sadness evaporated from your body.

But yet again, this is life. You gotta do what you gotta do. And you can't even go to her funeral considering you were hundreds of miles away and you have an extremely busy schedule ahead of you.

You heard the door open, your make up artist bowing politely at you. You sighed, getting up to sit on the chair infront of the mirror. "Miss. You okay?" they asked as they applied on some concealer underneathe your eyelids.

You hummed sadly, your eyes half lidded and looking down as you fidget with the script in your hands. You lazily flipped through the pages, trying to revert your mind away from the sadness in your gut so that you could memorize your lines.

When you were done, you head to the changing room to put on your costume before going to the makeup room to get some touch ups. Some of the staff questioned your silence and gloomy aura considering you would always joke around on set or make a member of the staff hault their movements to make some witty comments bout the script.

As you got your hair done, you saw your costar come in with a cup of Starbucks in her hand. "Rough day?" she asked, looking at you with hooded eyes as she sipped on her caffeine drink. You nodded slightly, trying not to ruin the hairstylist's work on your hair.

"Mood, girl. Director-nim says that we'll be shooting the next scene in ten so you have quite some time to pick yourself up." she informed as you gave her a weak smile in response. "Honestly, I wanna go back to sleep. Maybe go around to eat some mochi, I heard there's a mochi store nearby and it's to die for."

For the next ten minutes, you continued to hear her suggest all the good cheap snackstores around the area. When you finally got called, you forced yourself to get up from your chair and put down your phone and script on the table.

"I'm going to head out to buy those takoyaki balls outside. I'll buy you some if that'll cheer you up, my treat." she nudged you side with a soft smile which you gave her a small chuckle before shaking your head sadly. "No thanks. I don't feel like it." You walked out of the make up room and onto set.

You were immediately approached by the director telling you what to do in the following scenes, you just gave him a small hums and nods whenever he finishes his sentences.

"Looks like little y/n is out of it, today." Jisung snickered behind your back, making you let out a small huff before clenching your fists to calm yourself down. "Wow. No comebacks? Must be my lucky day!" he exclaimed.

You ignored the smug boy before walking infront of the camera and nodding at the directors that you were ready.

"Are you on your period or something?" Jisung asked as he stood beside you near the bus stop on the way to the hotel. You've been tormented through the day with his harsh remarks and the sadness in your gut just deepened.

You couldn't wait to be engulfed in the warm sheets and cry your frustrations out. You felt like you were bout the burst out sobbing at any moment. "Fuck off, Han. I'm not in the mood." you muttered under your breath.

"Oh, so you finally started talking again? What's got your panties in a twist, Huh?" he chuckled.

It may be because of pure exhaustion, but your vision blurred shortly and for a split second, you saw your grandmother smiling at you with a tray of your favourite treat in hand. Her voice crystal clear as she spoke the words "Y/N, come and eat!" which lingered in your mind.

You shook your head as you felt your eyes tear up. You can't just stand here and wait for the bus and continued to be harassed by this donkey any longer. "I said, fuck off, Han. I'm not in the mood." you said in a much bolder tone as you started to walk away.

And it didn't take long for Han Jisung to catch up on your tail. "What's up with you being all sad and shit the whole day? It's funny to see you like this. Did sad hours open early for you? Seriously, you're acting like somebody died or so-"

"I SAID, FUCK OFF, HAN. IM NOT IN THE MOOD."

You turned to look back at him with your eyes bloodshot red and your bottom lip trembling pathetically. You gazed at his shocked expression before relaxing your gaze and sniffed, covering your face with your scarf as you shivered at the cold wind.

"Leave me alone, Han Jisung. Please. " you sniffed before walking away from the baffled bou who stood there frozen in shock. He didn't even notice the bus that he was waiting for the past ten minutes had finally arrived.

"Hyung!" a voice snapped him out of his trance, making him look back to see his little maknae waving at him in line of the bus. He turned, hoping to see your small figure slowly disappearing but you were long gone.

He sighed as he walked towards the bus and sat next to Jeongin who continued to babble about who knows what. But the only thing Jisung couldn't stop thinking bout was your form trembling on the brink of tears.

this was so bad lol