#gimme gimme gimme ] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bananayuyu · 1 day ago

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san in this chapter???? 😳 WHEW but also I completely understand what aurora was feeling in that moment. girlie is definitely using sex as an escape and has been all summer and she really needs to like see that and stop it. but also addictive behavior is obviously to be expected... adsksdf god damn this shit is SO GOOD plum

also so happy that she finally just said she doesn't wanna do it to Tori. cause it just needed to happen so bad

‘after all the boys and girls that we’ve been through, could you give it all up if i promise to you, that i’ll never talk again, and i’ll never love again’

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➳ college!teez x fem!reader (oc) - nice for what cast ➳ 6.2 (part four of ???) ➳ 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, angst, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW! *pay attention to time stamps <3 *

thursday ~ september 18th ~ 1:05 am

You dropped your phone to your chest. Staring up at the dark ceiling, watching the lights and shadows flicker through the curtains pulled over the windows on the living room wall, a body scooted closer to you and pushed their nose into your shoulder. Turning your chin, you met his curious brown eyes and breathed through a laugh, dancing your gaze back up toward the ceiling.

“It was your brother,” you whispered.

Theo hummed. “Finally, right?” He kept his voice quiet.

Keeho slept on the couch behind the two of you. He’d been half passed out there by the time you returned back to them after crying to Wooyoung in the car, begging him to wait there for you, that you’d be done so fast, he can bring you back. Your stomach had been squeezed, pushed, pulled, flipped upside down and thrown to the ground.

You didn’t want to walk inside ITZ, not after that kind of phone call.

You didn’t want to face the girls. Tori made it known more than once that she’s got this. The dinner, she can handle it, she wants to handle it, it was her playground, her dream to have utmost control over an event she’d be known for. For years to come.

Song Tori.

Tori Song.

ITZ Legend.

Remembered for her excellence, her promptness, her style, her poise, her attention and love and care for her sisters. Her love for parties and nights out never once cramped her exquisitely high GPA, her work life balance, one to envy. A networking queen, Ms. Song over the years set her sorority, her sisters up for success and endless notoriety.

You could see it now.

And as much as it made you smile, her own happiness would be yours as well, you could vomit.

Lurching forward, veins buzzing with an electricity you’ve felt only a few times in your life, you slid a hand over your chest and reached for your shoulder. Moving it back and forth, soothing the pounding trapped between your lungs, Theo scooched himself closer to you, sitting up beside you. Placing a hand between your shoulder blades he only applied a pressure, his fingers scrunching before they stretched out again. He followed your breaths, taking deeper ones to encourage you to do the same.

He asked, after a few minutes, “Want me to wake him?”

Your eyes darted to the short hallway Wooyoung’s room lived at the end of. “No,” you pushed from your lips.

Wooyoung would come out here and talk you through it. He’d ask questions, he’d pick it apart, he’d get you to unravel so he could wind you back up. Countless times he’d cause the weight to grow, and grow, and grow- until it went away. Necessary. Something you appreciated.

This time you knew what you were feeling. You knew where it lived in your body. You knew what you needed to do to get it to stop. Balls were necessary, and right now you had none. They were impossible to grow while your insides were made of vibrating goo and your ass couldn’t feel the floor anymore.

Lectures weren’t needed.

You wanted to be buried in the arms of someone else. Someone who didn’t need you to ramble about everything racing through your head to understand what was happening. Someone who wouldn’t ask questions until the feeling passed, until you could feel your fingers again.

“What did Soul say?” Theo asked, and you whipped your head to look at him, your eyes wide. He scrunched up his fingers over your back, then took his time stretching them back out. He smiled. “What’d he want? Guess I’m not surprised he’s up, are they having a party?”

“I- I don’t… I dunno,” you breathed, “He said he wanted to talk, he didn’t say anything about a party.”

Theo bobbed his head. “Okay,” he whispered. “I’m glad he said something,” he met your eyes at the same time the smallest frown tugged at his lips, “He was happier when he was your friend.”

“We drove him crazy, Tae.”

He shook his head. “He loved you guys. Don’t listen to his little dipshit, asshole friends he thinks are good for him. You were good for him, you all were.” Glancing down to his lap, he leaned against you. “I’m worried about what happens when this year is over. When you guys leave, when I move… He’ll be here,” he looked at you with some sort of fear in his eyes, “With them.” Taking your hand from your chest, you slid it over his knee. “When you guys had him, it was… It was the first time I felt hope for him. Like, he would be okay, he could make something of himself.”

“He still can,” you whispered.

He tried to smile. Taking your hand in his, he squeezed it and took a deep breath. “You helped him a lot.” Lacing your fingers together, he nudged you with his shoulder. “I know this president shit is tough. I know you’re having a hard time with it. But, you are a leader, Ror.”

The buzzing in your veins had since ceased. He’d successfully distracted you enough to loop back around and pull you back into conversation about it.

Through a breath, you whispered, “I don’t wanna do it.”

Theo drew his thumb over your palm. “Hermione Granger,” he whispered.

You both froze, then broke into giggles.

“What?” your whisper was harsh, stuck in your laugh.

Theo, who rocked forward, tipped his head back and said it again. “Hermione Granger,” he raised his voice slightly, “Padme Amidala, Black Widow-” “What are you-”

“Women that are leaders, that the story isn’t about, but without them, the story wouldn’t exist.”

“Black Widow got her own movie,” you huffed, and he narrowed his eyes.

“After how many years,” he countered.

Keeho stirred on the couch. “You are so gay!”

Scoffing, Theo leapt to his feet. “This is bi erasure, Keeho,” he nearly shouted, taking two steps toward the couch before leaping on top of his boyfriend. Giggles erupted from the two, your best friend throwing his arms around Theo, pulling him in. Through the laughter and short spouts of bickering, Keeho quieted him with a kiss.

Your cue to leave.

Quietly, you grabbed the pillow from the floor and tiptoed down the hall, pushing Wooyoung's door open. He stirred in his bed, the room too dark you couldn’t even see if his eyes opened. Turning the handle to close the door in silence, you padded around to the side he wasn’t strewn across and slipped under the covers, tossing the pillow against the headboard.

“What were they yelling about?” he mumbled, sliding his legs together to free up some space.

Releasing a breath, you kept some distance between you. “Something about bi erasure.”

Wooyoung rolled over to face you, his eyes closed and his hair rumpled. “Sounds like Kee.”

“Was Tae, actually,” you whispered, and he smirked.

“The man fights back,” he muttered.

Silence fell. You prayed to anything that the two in the living room would remember they were in an apartment, with very thin walls. Though if you or Wooyoung said anything they’d have plenty about the two of you to argue back with.

Not anymore.

Blinking, eyes adjusting to the darkness of his bedroom, you made out the curve of his nose. His natural, messy waves brushing over his long lashes splayed over his cheekbones. His lips that pursed as he slept. His cheek squished into his pillow.

Two weeks ago you’d have been able to reach over and run your fingers through his hair, over his cheek, dancing finger down his nose, pressing a kiss to the tip. Depending on his mood, he’d nip at your finger, catching it between his teeth before he wrapped his lips around it, spitting it free to shove his tongue into your cheek. He’d roll on top of you, slide his hands up your arms and trap your wrists in his hold above your head. Taking his time he’d trail his lips down your neck, your chest, over every curve until his waves and wicked smile made their home between your thighs…

“Aurora,” he whispered.

Opening your eyes, you sighed. The space you put between you didn’t exist, you had moved closer, against him.

“Off limits,” he whispered.

Letting out the tiniest groan, you flipped onto your back and clasped your hands over your belly. “I can’t sleep.”

You could hear the smile pulling at his lips. “Do it yourself.”

Clicking your tongue, you shot him a harsh, “Pervert,” and tried to swallow your grin as he snickered.

He rolled over to his other side, back facing you, and said, “I’m not kidding though. It’ll help.”

With a sigh, you made sure to grumble once more just to make him laugh again.

He was serious that night. Off limits. He’d implemented San rules, as if you were some sort of animal.

San rules.

San.

Peeking to the side, at his bare back you ached to press your lips to, you reached for your phone and swiped open to your messages. San was already pinned to the top, right beside Tori who was pinned right beside… Yunho.

The buzzing in your veins came back. The air began to thin.

Fuck it.

[you]: i’m coming tomorrow

He responded immediately, exactly on your wavelength, giving you the response you expected.

[sannie]: three times. i promise.

thursday ~ september 18th ~ 11:59 pm

Spinning around in San’s arms, falling backward onto his chest clad with a t-shirt that stuck to him, one you’re shocked he could breathe in, his hands slid down your hips, his own body swaying with you as you moved to the music. In the middle of the crowd in ATZ’s dark living room you were both several drinks deep, ignoring looks and dodging advances, which came as a surprise to most of San’s suitors, but not to San.

Grinding against your ass, he pressed you into him and latched his lips to your neck after pulling your hair back, letting his warm breath fan over your skin before he pressed his open mouth on you.

When San had you, he only had you.

He’d usually be on the hunt for seconds at this point without even devouring his first quite yet. Each night he had them stacked, had them waiting, and with how many dirty looks you were on the receiving end of tonight, it’s very clear he’d been booked and busy, but he’s blowing them all off for you.

Half hard, gyrating into you, both of his hands, his fingers digging into the curve of your hip covered by a minidress, he almost missed the junior that came up behind him, shouting for his attention. It took her grabbing him by the shoulder and yanking him backward for him to break his gaze off of you. Turning toward her, bringing you with him, the two of you stumbling as you moved, the junior took one look at you and her face went sour.

“Course,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

Dropping your hands to your side, resting them over his, you smiled at her. She was pretty. Short dark hair curved beneath her chin, pearl earrings accented her ears, a dainty necklace hung around her neck, she wore… a pink sweater and a denim skirt.

Your stomach flipped. You struggled to stand up straight, trying to push off of San to get a better look at her.

“Sorry, baby,” San cooed, giving her a pursed lip smile before she stormed off, pushing through bodies that shouted after her. He swung you around, twisted you around, and slid his arm back around your waist, letting his hands slip a little lower. Pressing his forehead to yours, he was a second away from kissing you, but the vacant look on your face made him frown. “Ror?”

The floor rocked beneath you. A sort of dread settled in your gut.

San took his hands to your cheeks and tilted your chin up. Meeting his eyes, you pressed your hands to his rock hard chest and pushed at him with as much strength as you could conjure up.

“Go be with her,” you said. The words came out slower than you thought they would.

San grabbed onto your wrists and tugged you into him, wrapping his arms around your back. “No, no,” he breathed. “You’re mine tonight, pretty girl.” Nudging your nose with his own, he beckoned you to look at him, and when you did, he smiled something soft. “Did that upset you?”

Shaking your head, lowering your eyes, you made him laugh.

He pressed a finger into your chin, bringing your eyes back to his. His brow softened, and his eyes grew a bit wider. “Use your words, babe. What’d that just do to you?”

Her image popped back into your head. A vision of perfection, and grace, and power, and betrayal, and vain. Her always styled hair, and the way she dressed, how it was exactly Yunho’s type.

Your stomach flipped again. You tightened the grip you had on San and shook your head.

“Mina,” you whispered, flickering your gaze upward, finding comfort in how his lips pouted.

He sighed. “Oh, babe.” His hands caressed your hips, then took their time sliding up your side, palming your shoulders with a gentleness before he cupped below your jaw, and he offered you a smize. “We can’t have that, can we?”

His lips were on yours with a kiss so deep it rendered you thoughtless. Tongue pushing past your lips already, you grew limp in his arms, and you allowed him to take you. San cast a spell impossible to ignore, something you didn’t believe until you experienced him this summer for yourself, finally giving in to him and his advances- on your own accord. Just once you had to see what all the fuss was about, you had to have him at least once.

And once turned into a lot. More often than you would have ever expected.

You and Wooyoung both.

You literally could not help yourselves.

Everything everyone spoke of… was the complete and honest truth.

Keeping you on his hip he snaked an arm around your shoulders and pulled you through the living room, the crowd parting for the two of you. Popping occasional kisses to your temple, your forehead, your lips if he reached over to squish your cheeks, he got you to the stairs until you were stopped halfway.

You weren’t quite sure how you moved this fast, but your journey came to an end too quickly, you needed him, and at this point you didn’t care where you were. The ache between your legs fueled a frustration within you, one San had mastered himself. He simply smiled at his president while you whined and tugged at his arm to keep moving.

Seonghwa’s eyes flickered between you both as he drug a hand through his long black hair, his own skin dewy and glowy. “Where we going?” Hongjoong leaned against the wall with a smirk, one step above Seonghwa.

San eyed them both, his gaze dropping to Hongjoong’s shirt put back together one button off. Smiling, he shot them a wink and pushed through them, pulling you along. “Is it your room tonight?”

Hongjoong laughed, Seonghwa groaned, but a smile played at his full pink lips.

You weren’t staring, but he looked really good in his tighter black pants that were real snug around his waist, his crotch, and his white tee, he wore it like San’s, tighter than ever. A silver chain hung around his neck, one you’re well acquainted with.

“Yours,” he shouted up the stairs, then shot you a smug look. “Hi, Ror,” he crooned, and Hongjoong chuckled.

San wasn’t the only siren in the house.

You peeked at Hongjoong who couldn’t take his eyes off his man either.

Nor were you the only sucker who succumbed to them.

Reaching the top of the stairs, brain turned off, all of your inhibitions handed over to San, you grabbed him by his broad, solid shoulders and pressed yourself against him, ready to plant kisses on his neck, but a voice on the first floor stole your attention.

“Hey, Hwa, can we-”

The second he made it to the bottom of the steps, the president pushed him back by the chest and gestured toward the kitchen with a nod of his head. “I need a drink, come with me, ask me after.”

Yunho.

He was here.

The fuck? Of course he’s here, this is his goddamn house.

Knees going weak, you held onto San and sucked in a breath. “Fuck,” you whispered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“I’m right here,” San whispered, keeping his hold on you a tight one. “Where are we going next?”

Looking up at him, shifting on your feet, barely feeling any sort of autonomy left, you tipped your chin backward and groaned.

What were you doing?

Yunho is downstairs, in the kitchen in fact, Seonghwa and Hongjoong are taking him that way, and you’re pretty sure it’s because you were up here on the second floor with San. San who watched you with a fire in his eyes, his grip on you saying the same exact thing.

You know he’d stop if you wanted him to. If you wanted to go back downstairs, he’d take you there.

But Yunho was there.

And Yunho wasn’t talking to you.

San was here.

And San was talking to you.

Glancing back and forth, from stairs, to San, without a coherent deep thought you pulled him closer and kissed him with a force that sent him stepping backward.

“There she is,” he muttered with a smirk, and slid his hands down your back, gripping just beneath your ass, lifting you onto his front.

Through fervent messy kisses and the way you moved against him, with you latched to his front he carried you up another flight of stairs to the third floor. You hadn’t been up here in over a year, since you opened up Hongjoongs door and Yeji and Wooyoung tumbled out of it.

San’s bedroom, that he now had to share with a junior, lived across the hall, at the top of the stairs. Releasing you, balancing you on your feet as he pushed the door open, noise behind another plank of wood had both of you acknowledging it. Sliding a hand around the back of your neck, guiding you into his room, he breathed through a laugh.

“Soul and Jongseob’s room,” he said quietly, and your heart sunk. Catching the look on your face, he took the hand around the back of your neck and slid it around to the front, backing you into his chest as he kicked his door shut. “Ignore the shit, Ror,” he grumbled, applying pressure with his hand, your head going way dizzier than it’d been all night. Taking his other hand around your front, he lifted your dress and slipped his fingers in your thong, strumming two fingers over your clit, huffing a laugh at how embarrassingly wet you were for him already. Nipping at your earlobe, voice gravelly, he muttered, “You owe me three orgasms.”

And with another push on your throat and twist of his fingers he nearly drew the first one out of you in seconds. A low groan from his chest, his soft, gentle lips pressed to the sensitive skin beneath your ear, under your jaw, the way he took calculated breaths, meticulously rolled himself against you- the tiny circles he swirled with his middle finger took you down in a minute. Sixty seconds.

Legs trembling, putty in his arms, heat spiked through you, ripped through your chest, your entire middle. Unable to make a sound, breath restricted, controlled at his hands, his delicious little hum of approval made you smile.

His lips brushed over the shell of your ear. “Good fucking girl,” he growled. Everything within you tensed, every sound he made added fuel to the fire. You tried to turn around, with your feet planted to the floor you tried to face him, but he wouldn’t let you. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

You wriggled around once more and his arms tightened tenfold. Trying to answer him, the words couldn’t come out, you couldn’t form any. Dizzy, brain cloudy, you couldn’t breathe, and the way he laughed at your struggle triggered more of an ache between your thighs.

His middle finger slid down, then back up, and your body shook. Waves of pleasure, an aftershock of sorts.

“So easy,” he muttered with another slide of his finger, twisting it as he slid it up. Sensitive, your mouth popped open, a silent moan, all a gust of air, whatever you had left within you. In one quick motion San took his hand from your throat and gripped your jaw, smirking as you gulped down a breath just before he took his fingers from between your legs and pressed them to your tongue. “Suck.”

And you listened, and he hummed with pride. Wrapping your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself, your knees shook, and he didn’t have a third hand to hold you up.

He moved quick, San wasted little time in the bedroom, he had you face down on his roommate's bed before you could even swallow. Pushing your dress up, out of the way, the fabric cinching over your middle, he grabbed you by the hips and lifted them up, higher. On his knees, his shirt hitting the floor as he pushed his clothed length against you, he sighed as you moaned, uttering a quiet, “Yes,” as his hands gripped at your bare ass.

Smoothing his palms over your skin, he admired the view, smiling down at you and how you twisted to look back at him, head pushed down into the grey duvet. His eyes drew lower, at where your bodies met, how his hard cock pressed against your thong, and his smile grew. Pushing his hips forward, arching backward a bit, he glanced down at himself and groaned.

You arched down into the bed and pushed your ass into him, your knees slipping open a little wider.

The sound outside in the hallway grew. Doors were opened and shut, more voices filled the space. Muscles tensing, San felt it. Not worried in the slightest, he slid a hand down your back and leaned over you, pressing kisses to your shoulders.

“Don’t listen,” he whispered between slow kisses, the soft smack of his lips and gentle rutting of his hips into your center grounding you, keeping you in the room with him. “You and me,” he whispered.

“You and me,” you whispered, but your words twisted with a moan. Hooking a finger in your thong he tugged it aside and had his zipper down in a flash. He wore nothing beneath his pants, because of course he didn’t.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Your body jolted.

Soul shouted in the hall, laughter following.

His dipshit asshole friends.

San, aware of it all, grabbed onto your hips and pulled you back, pushing himself into you, filling you up entirely, and then some. The sounds that left you weren’t enough to quiet the hall, the longer they stayed there the more your attention would be split.

And San couldn’t have that.

It ticked him off.

You knew it did, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Ignoring how it all made you feel, San pounding into you, your wails bouncing off the walls and into the hall, the boys out there listening to it all go down. He’d know it was you, he’s heard this before, he’s made you sound like this before, there was no mystery. Any college sophomore in their right mind would have their ear pressed to the door, and though every thought that popped into your head was being fucked right out, you couldn’t imagine him exploiting you. Letting his friends listen, as much as they longed to take his place for those many months. Your Soul wouldn’t allow it.

But, if they were… If he did…

The heat took over. Your legs spread, you melted, your nipples pebbled, your toes curled. Pushing off the bed San fucked you into, you arched backward and laid on his chest, reaching backward to tangle your fingers in his hair, giving the strands a harsh pull. He sucked air in through his teeth and punished you with a spank. Yelping at the sting, he drank up the giggles you gave him soon after.

“Yeah, you like that?” Smirking, he wrapped his other hand around your throat and spanked you again. A moaning, babbling mess, you turned your head and blinked up at him. He pressed down on your neck and pouted at how your brows flipped. “Oh, babe,” he cooed, fucking into you harder, admiring how a smile played at your lips, “Only whores make eye contact.”

You giggled.

San, turning red in the face, took his hands off of you and pushed you back down against the mattress. “You playin’ fucking games?”

Sucking air into your lungs, you grabbed fistfuls of the duvet and blinked back into reality now that his hands weren’t on you. His dick thrust into you, he drew another orgasm closer, but he wasn’t touching you.

You’ve spent nights face first on a mattress before, this wasn’t anything new. What he did to you, how he spoke to you- all things you’ve asked him to do. Over the months, the year, you couldn’t place why it didn’t satisfy you, why it wasn’t enough, why you were always missing something, always feeling like something wasn’t right when the sex was all you wanted, and sex you received.

It struck you now, blatantly straight across the face.

Whiplash.

Six months of San, Soul, Wooyoung- it didn’t compare to the six months of Yunho.

To the six months of lingering touches, lingering gazes. The six months of taking your time, learning something new about the other each time you stripped each other down to nothing. Six months of pure need, pure bliss, true curiosity, absolute care, a certain gentleness to each move no matter the circumstance.

Six months of it meaning something more than just being pushed into a mattress.

He would touch you. His hands would stay on your body. He’d never let you get so far away. He’d never make you feel so far away.

Here, on a random bed, you’ve never felt further from anyone.

San grabbed back onto your hips, pulling you right out of the spiral.

“Two more, baby,” he praised. “Come on, pretty girl.”

Pushing up onto your hands, you arched your back and flipped your hair over your shoulder, giving him a look. His devilish smile sparked that feeling within you.

He’d distract you for the next hour or so, and then, you decided, you’d be done.

friday ~ september 19th ~ 2:13 pm

“Everything's set, the schedule is scheduling, tomorrow will be perfect.”

Yuna smiled at Tori from her 1940s velvet green lounge chair. “Of course it’ll be perfect, look at everything you’ve done. No one’s gone to these extremes before, Tor, you’re already setting new standards.”

Your knees bumped the desk as you twirled your chair around for the third time. Using your hands to peddle about, your feet sat on the cushion, your legs pulled up from the floor. Gripping the wood, you dug your nails into it and brought yourself to a stop. The girls have been speaking to one another for a half hour and you haven’t said a word.

Leaning against the desk, standing in front of it, Tori, in a white bodysuit that showed off her tattoos and a denim mini skirt that hugged her hips just right, led the girls just right. Without looking at her notes once she ran over the itinerary for tomorrow, not leaving out one measly detail. With her chin high, she gave orders, she assigned duties, she ensured her day would run smoothly, that her dinner would go to plan. Chaewon and Yunjin, with stars in their eyes, listened to her, watched her, studied her, embodied her in their posture, in how they carried themselves. Yuna, with all the trust in the world, beamed at her friend, sharing some of that pride with you, a few glances here and there, but ultimately, Tori received it all.

As she should.

You listened, you paid attention, you held just as much pride for Tori as the rest of them, if not more, whether or not you were able to properly show it amongst what hung over your head. The guilt of not being present didn’t even have time to set in, your mothers several voicemails filled every void with an even bigger void, a deeper void. A void you didn’t even know was a void until Wooyoung described it that way.

He’s invited to the ATZ parties now, but unfortunately he wasn’t able to be in attendance last night to witness you self medicating, but your poison has a big mouth and he found out anyway. Waking up, in your own bed, alone, with Tori in hers, to one disappointed text message from him had been enough to set you off for the day.

You’ve been on autopilot since eight o’clock this morning, after you made yourself sick to get rid of awfulness within you, not realizing it was going to take a lot more than vomiting to clear out the shit in your head.

Yunho was at the party last night and your paths didn’t cross once. Either San did an excellent job of keeping you from him, or he’d been actively avoiding you.

A lump lodged in your throat. Pushing your hands against the desk you spun the chair around two more times, swallowing profusely, withholding your tears from slipping down your cheeks. These girls would not see you cry.

Exhausted, hungover, and heartbroken, you didn’t have much of a choice.

The chair came to a stop, your knees hitting the wood before you dropped your head and wrapped your arms around yourself, sobs pouring from you in an instant. Hushed whispers sounded around you, meaningless noise you couldn’t pick apart until there was only one voice left, speaking to you.

“Ror?”

Tori.

Her hand slid over your back, over the Nasara logo down your spine. Crouching down beside you, she pushed your hair aside, persuading you to turn to look at her. When your eyes met, she smiled, a soft one, only her lips perking up beneath her worried gaze.

Sniffling, you lifted your head and wiped your cheeks, giving your head a shake. “I have to talk to him.” Voice broken, you’re shocked she made out your whisper.

She slid her hand over your arm, tracing your fingers with her own. “Please, talk to him.”

Mustering up a deep breath, you sighed, another cry escaping you. “Why hasn’t he said anything? I was there last night, we crossed paths this week so many times, and… nothing.”

Tori nodded, her brown waves dancing over her bare shoulders. “I really don’t wanna be in the middle of this anymore, you know that, but what I told you is true. He does,” she paused, then gestured toward you, “This, over you. He’s just as much of a mess, Ror. You guys are still playing whatever game you set into place last year.”

The game.

Yunho not speaking to you unless you speak to him first.

“I slept with San last night,” you muttered, and her eyes bugged out of her head.

“What the fuck? I thought you were cut off!”

A smile pulled at your lips. “By Wooyoung,” you reached out to poke the tip of her nose with your pinky. She jutted her chin backward and thinned her lips. “Not San. I found a loophole.”

“You shouldn’t be doing anything in regards to loops or holes,” she curled her lips and stood up to her feet.

“Wait,” you whispered, reaching for both of her wrists.

Her being tensed. It was as if she was waiting for something, or expecting something. You could take this moment to tell her, that you were ready to give it all up, that you couldn’t stand being in this position, having accidentally become important at work- you didn’t want any of it. Between grades, your mother, Yunho, your father, you’d much rather be doing anything else.

As a member of the sorority your only duty had been to show up for your sisters, support your leaders, attend events, pay your dues, and keep your grades up. Now, you were responsible for your sisters, you had to support the leaders beside you and all of the chapter members, you were responsible for every event, your dues had gone up exponentially, and you haven’t had a lick of time to even once think about your grades, your schoolwork.

You still needed, and were required to have an internship before graduation. It was a requirement. Without one there would be no cap and gown in your future, within the next eight months.

Tori had plans. Tori knew where she wanted to end up. Tori and Mingi would move to Iloa next summer, together, they’d jump headfirst into full time positions, the both of them interning for the same marketing company her sisters management team uses. The opportunity fell into their laps the night of Sitara’s movie premiere, and without question, they gobbled it up.

As they should.

You were in the same major. You’ve taken all the classes. You’ve seen what you can do after graduation.

Not one bit of it interested you.

In the start, sure, it seemed cool. Social media used to be fun for you, you could build that into something bigger. You were good at editing photos, at editing bodies of words people needed proofread, you could throw together a presentation and sell your ass off. Moving to Iloa, working in a corporate office, sitting in meetings such as these you’ve been subjected to for almost a full four years, listening to people brainstorm and shovel out ideas to be shot down, leaders berating their members, taking away their autonomy…

Shit like that, power in that sense, it all sat at your fingertips now.

You wanted no part of it.

No one should have all that power.

Whether it was yours, or Tori’s, or Yeji’s…

You couldn’t handle it.

Too many girls looked to you now for answers, for structure, for stability. All your life you’ve never had answers, or structure, or stability. You were clueless as to what any of that felt like, what any of that looked like, how in the hell were you supposed to rule over them for a year if you didn’t have within you the very thing they needed.

Wooyoung says you’re running. Your father would be disappointed. Your friends, they’d think you were a coward. Yunho, what would he say?

Around this time last year you were handed this position. It should’ve been yours from the start, this was supposed to be your second full year of presidency. You took it without a thought. So much had been taken, stolen from you, you felt as though you had no other choice.

Maybe you were running.

“Tori,” you whispered, brows flipping over as you stared up at her. She gulped, shaking her head the tiniest bit. “You know how grateful I am for you, right?”

“Course,” she breathed, her eyes narrowing.

“Everything we’ve been through, we did it together,” you said, and she nodded. “This past summer-”

She closed her eyes and shook her head faster. “We don’t have to get into it, I don’t wanna even remember-”

“Tori,” you gave her hands a shake and smiled at her when she opened her eyes, “I…”

She blinked. “You, what?”

Pursing your lips, you glanced about the room and let out some sort of laugh that made her face screw up. “I don’t want to be the president anymore.”

“What?” she spat, pushing your hands away.

Looking back up at her, your smile deepened, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t wanna be it. I don’t wanna do it.”

“Aurora,” she sighed, dropping down to her knees, nearly eye level with you from the floor. “Do you know what you’re saying? I know you, and I know there’s a shit ton of truth behind this. You don’t wanna be the president anymore?” Through her whispers, her half gasps, her frantic gaze scattered about the room, she sucked in a breath and sighed yet again. “I know things have been… hard.”

Fluttering your eyes shut, you smized, sarcasm dripping from your expression.

“But, you can’t just… This is something you’ve…”

Her voice trailed off. Opening your eyes, you found her in thought, the gears grinding behind her bright eyes. Blinking three times, she parted her lips with a smack, cocked her head aside and gaped at you.

“You… never wanted this,” she whispered.

“It was never a thought,” you said. Reaching out, you placed a finger beneath her chin and closed her mouth for her. She shied away just as she did before. “This wasn’t a goal I wanted to achieve. I didn’t even have time to think about it before I accepted, or… before I… let it happen.”

Steadying herself with one hand on the desk and the other on the chair, she took a deep breath and stood to her feet, her head bobbing. “Okay,” she said, voice hushed. “Okay, we can… we can talk about this.” Looking at you she held out a hand for you to take, and she pulled you out of the chair. “Let’s go eat.”

“Let’s go eat,” you whispered, and she nodded, shock still living upon her face.

Taking a hand to your shoulder she guided you from the room. “Yeah, and maybe get a couple drinks, too.”

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