#speechless

[reinarose101]

😦

[chimivx]

‘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.”

NU home ✧ speechless masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[hotvampireadjacent]

I’m speechless i saw a carboard box in the bathroom and I was like. “Ok why the fuck is that here? What did the cats do?” The truth was worse and more scary than I could image.

It wasn’t an empty carboard box. It was a heavy chewey box my roommate orders. Pickles somehow lugged that to the bathroom and CHEWED THEOGUH THE CARBOARD AND THEN CHEWED THROUGH THE FOOD BAG to get to the cat food inside.

I don’t think I’m safe here

[hischiershoe]

no one perceive me right now holy shit

[thekhloediary]

THIS MANNNN 😩

Like wtf. Seriously wtf. I don’t even have the words

[lenny-link]

the prophecy was true… the 7th comic is real…

[sdreamersc82]

So if you love me, then say you love me

And you are mine...

[mythalism]

i have to release this in ur walls i think but everytime i see that "solas loved lavellan less bc he loved his duty more/abandoned her for it" take i realize how little of the fans / consumers of these games have in terms of cultural understanding of revolution & rebellion... i had relatives who were assassinated or died fighting for my country. like as in great uncles who would've been alive & well to see me grow up had they not met their end the way they did. and their headstones say "beloved husband, father" like they didn't love their family any less. they died doing what they thought would lead to our freedom (and it did!) and by the logic & means of some takes they "prioritized" rebellion before their safety

like people love romanticizing the idea of rebellion, of uprising etc, they love reading stories / fairytales ab knights etc and it's like wow suddenly it's boring & trite & abusive in a game where said romance is an option in a sea of options? like suddenly now devotion to a cause is wrong? abhorrent?

these people would not survive an eastern european winter. let alone its history and the family stories it spawned in every household.

you have written so many masterpieces in my inbox but this by far takes the cake

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Speechless

~you accidentally send your crush messages meant for your best friend

joe burrow x black!reader

TW: 18+ MDNI | language, mentions of arousal, embarrassment.

“Thank You TikTok” | Main Masterlist

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

♥*♡∞:｡.｡ Next Fic <3

~ raise your hand if you have ever sent a text to the wrong person and it worked out in your favor…. 🫠

[grogumaximus]

[lavonq]

No words needed

[getupcowardd]

this is honest to god fucking insane

[scyeschef]

Oh wow-

[livmondcole]

EXCUSE ME?

[chimivx]

‘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’

the finale : ̗̀➛ senior year at nasara university

<- enroll here .·:*¨༺ (1) ༻¨*:·. next page (2) ->

➳ college!teez x fem!reader (oc) - nice for what cast ➳ 9k (part one of ???) ➳ 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, angst, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

saturday ~ september 20th ~ 11:16 pm

Glass beneath your feet, a red cup in your hand, music pulsing in your ears, your friends shouting at you from the floor, not one of them could get a grip on you. Stumbling across the dining room table wearing nothing but your white lace sundress, matching with half of the girls in the house, your bare feet stepped on napkins and kicked plastic plates away as you twisted to the music, singing along to every y2k beat that poured from the speakers. 

“Aurora, get down!” Yuna laughed, but her tone was stern and went unnoticed by you. You heard the laughter and it fueled the way your body moved. Ducking underneath the chandelier hanging over the table, you let out a shout and almost tumbled off the edge. “Stop!” Her hands flew up to grab onto your hips, pushing you back onto your feet. 

Lifting your cup to your lips, downing the rest of its contents with a cringe- San filled it with straight vodka ten minutes ago- you tossed it aside and smiled down at her.

“Ror, this is not funny.” Tossing her chocolate waves over her shoulder she glanced around the room and sighed. 

A body covered every square inch, boys from ATZ, girls from ITZ, all new recruits being welcomed tonight with veteran members scattered throughout the chaos somewhere. Hours ago the boys showed up on your doorstep and both parties went through with the tradition, the silly little ritual of inviting the sibling house into the other, maintaining the facade of polished politeness throughout dinner until the sun set and the lights went out.

ITZ held the dinner this year, it had been your responsibility to set it up. Well, most of it. Your team beneath you really put it together while you sat at that big, intimidating wooden desk that Yeji used to sit behind with your knees pulled into your chest and your arms wrapped around them. They discussed details and you disassociated, staring down at the to-do list that haunted your dreams and lived within every nightmare.

Tori, your knight in shining armor really, she handled what you couldn’t. With a wave of her hand she could send one of the girls on a mission, in her planner she kept track of every goal, each morning she shared a phone call with you, Seonghwa and Hongjoong, and hours later she’d be able to recite it back to you verbatim. Her details had details, and every time she hit it out of the park. 

Working with Chaewon, a junior who had been appointed ITZ’s social chair last year at the time of the change, Tori perfected tonight's dinner. She hired cleaning services to come through this morning, and the moment they left, a swift, easy moving schedule, the caterers swooped in and tackled the kitchen, setting the house members up to be treated like royalty. Where the girls were meant to host the boys, Tori hired waiters to wander about, carrying silver trays of champagne, hors d’oeuvres, desserts, you name it, they were serving it to you. 

Not one guest arrived unimpressed.

But you wouldn’t be able to recall, you’ve been sipping cocktails since the cleaners were scrubbing between the wooden boards of the floor. 

Dressing yourself, or trying to, Tori had to tie you into your dress, the top half wrapped around you like a lace corset. You wanted to match with her, but she opted to wear her silky white Tom Ford cocktail dress she bought for her sister’s movie premiere she and Mingi attended at the end of last month. Loose curls hung over her exposed shoulders and draped down her back, the flippy layers having grown longer than you’ve ever seen them. Silver jewelry accentuated her old Hollywood look, diamond necklaces dangled into the v-cut of the dress, tear drops hung from her ears, and bracelets jingled on her wrists. 

She topped it off with her Louboutins, a pair she’s had for years kept in pristine condition.

Tonight belonged to her, and everybody knew it. She owned this dinner.

Wandering beside her while the caterers set themselves up, you listened in to her and Ryujin’s conversation. She caught her right before she and Jeongyeon were headed out to Sicuro for the weekend to visit her parents. Tipsy already in that moment, Ryujin’s words didn’t affect you the way you thought they would.

“Damn, Tor, you really stepped up! This is insane, they’re gonna talk about you for years…”

You agreed with her, because she was right. No chapter has ever pulled something of such grandeur off before, Tori surely would go down in ITZ history for this, no matter how superficial that sounded. These girls cared about things like that, that’s what Tori came here to do.

Change.

Mold.

Shape.

Make a difference.

All you had to do was shake Seonghwa’s hand on the porch, and your job was done.

Whispers of a shared past flowed through both groups like a hushed breeze, one gentle enough to not be noticed, but that unmistakable chill that struck your spine told you enough. Change occurred between this year to last, but not enough. The echo of Yeji’s like minded girl's speech circled around you whenever you sat behind that desk. Looking each of them in the face, shaking their hands through recruitment, during rush, walking them through tours…

You searched. You studied. You analyzed. And you were thorough.

Flipping through profiles front and back, upside down and backwards, background checks, social media searches, you lost sleep trying to find anything incriminating about every girl you were about to have living in this house. You’d be damned if it happened again. You wouldn’t allow it to happen again, and Tori had your back. She didn’t spend the sleepless nights with you, but whenever you tossed her a project, needing her to keep up with the current board members so you could deep dive into lives in ways you really weren’t sure were legal- Tori did what Ryujin said, she stepped the fuck up.

While you, by yourself, drowned in recruit papers and schoolwork, she ran the sorority.

You weren’t helpless, Wooyoung offered to flip through profiles for you, and he did for a night. In his apartment scattered across the living room floor, the two of you tiered the girls in three categories. Most likely to Yeji, least likely to Yeji, and doesn’t have an ounce of Yeji in her blood. Throughout the night, over papers, containers of take out, and a few beers, he did his best to assure you that you had the upper hand now, that these girls answered to you. When in return you told him flat out that they answered to Tori.

You haven’t felt like the president since last semester.

All you had to do was shake Seonghwa’s hand, and you were off the hook.

You had gripped it tight, and he had laughed to himself. With a lean toward you, in your ear, he’d whispered, “Hammered already, President Aurora?” And you answered him with a smug smile.

Yunho stood behind him in a white button down and black slacks with a tie hung loosely around his neck, of course you were hammered.

You didn’t look at him.

He didn’t look at you.

That’s how it’s been since July.

On the floor, Yuna threw her hands to her side and groaned. “Ror, please,” she said, watching you teeter side to side, somewhat attempting to sway to the music all the other bodies rocked along to.

Raking your fingers through your hair, you finally spared her a glance, and after a few seconds, flashed her a smile. 

You weren’t coming down.

He stood behind him in his half made up suit, every dusty brown piece of hair on his head perfectly in place. Taking in the sight of all of your girls stretched along the front of the porch of ITZ, he didn’t look at you once. Other than your friends no one knew your history, you and Yunho, why you were the way that you were, and frankly, you aren’t sure you quite know either. 

When did it start, like, really start, and why did it go unspoken for so long? Why, after he’s played with your heart, broken it, and your trust, do you continue to yearn for him? You wouldn’t say you were yearning, but Tori’s called you out plenty. You’ve said too much this summer, drunken confessions, that you can’t talk your way out of anymore.

He stood right behind Seonghwa.

And he couldn’t care less that his president shook your hand. 

So you drank, and you drank some more, and you sipped from a bottle offered to you by some ATZ freshman recruits, and you cracked open another can of bubbles, and you accepted a cup from San, and then a refill and a kiss from a very sloshed San…

“Ror, if you don’t…” Yuna pressed her fingers into her bare thighs. White bodycon dress clinging to her slender figure, she paired it with white wedge sandals and gold jewelry from Jongho, the senior a vision to behold- something the ATZ recruits took very seriously. 

Glancing around herself in the dim, well, the dark, she released a heavy sigh, took one look up toward you, then vanished into the sea of beings.

He hadn’t said one word to you since July!

Even in joint meetings between the boards, something you and Seonghwa set up to be had monthly, he didn’t look at you, and he certainly didn’t speak. Keeping to himself aside from the occasional mumble to Mingi, and questions to Tori or Chaewon, he arrived at the meetings in his usual hoodie-sweats combo with a small hello to everyone other than you, and left just the same.

This wasn’t a Yunho you knew.

Your Yunho took up space, he asked silly questions, he over exaggerated his explanations, he’s outrageously fucking dramatic and he’d admit it too.

Now he sat in silence.

Each time he tolerated your presence he seemed to reach into your heart, your subconscious somehow, and erase himself little by little. Everything you thought you knew, everything he taught you about himself, every piece of him he gave you, he started to take it all back.

An undoing.

An erasure.

He didn’t love you.

And maybe he never really did. 

Maybe the words he spoke held no value.

“…and she’s gonna get hurt, I can’t get her down, I wanna take her up to bed ‘cause I can’t keep track of her, she’s fast, I just-“

Yuna’s frantic speech didn’t catch your attention, the deep voice that cut her off did. Spinning on your toes, your ankles knitting together, you stumbled forward and they both jumped.

“Oh my god,” Yunho sneered, both of his hands extending in front of him, ready to catch you if you reared off the edge of the table. Flickering his hardened glare between you and Yuna, he spoke to Yuna. “Where’s her keeper?”

Yuna rolled her eyes. “Not here, and he’s not her keeper. They broke up in July.”

“Yeah, people keep saying that.”

Yuna thrusted a hand toward you. “So, help!”

Yunho glanced up at where you danced, watched how you laughed with some recruits watching you from the floor, then shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“And, why not?” Yuna crossed her arms over her chest.

Copying her, Yunho turned toward her. “I’m not falling for tricks like these anymore,” he said. “I’m done with this.”

Yuna took in a breath and stepped in a small circle around herself looking for a Plan B. Speedy eyes scanning the hoards of tipsy people, she found Intak and Jiung squeezing themselves through the dining room doorway. They clocked you already, their gazes were pointed and locked. 

Grabbing onto Yunho’s arm, Yuna sighed. “If you don’t do something, they will.” Pointing at the boys, Yunho followed her finger. 

His jaw tightened. “I can’t do anything,” he mumbled through clenched teeth, “She hasn’t said anything to me.”

“Good god,” Yuna groaned with another roll of her eyes, “You guys exhaust me, I can’t believe you’re still playing that game,” she waved towards the table the boys circled, “Just get her down.”

Intak stood four feet from him on the opposite side of the table, his face alight in the glow from phone screens and the moonlight leaking in through the windows, wearing a smirk. Jiung whispered to him, his eyes drawing up and down your form wobbling above him.

If Yunho didn’t do something, they would.

Stepping forward, placing both hands flat on the table, Yunho peered up at you with a hope that you’d possibly peer back.

You didn’t.

Intak caught your eye, and though he filled your gut with a nausea that once felt like curiosity, he was the only boy tonight to not look at you like he knew what you were. Even some of the girls looked at you that way, some sort of unease behind their poised complexions. 

They knew.

They gossiped.

They judged.

Intak though, and Jiung for that matter, both of them, absolute arrogant assholes, the sparkle in their eyes drew you in. They enjoyed the show, they didn’t look down upon it. The pieces of you others judged, the pieces Intak and Jiung knew about, they didn’t talk it down, they wanted a taste.

You’d lay Intak down any day of the week. With that slick smile, his cropped hair, his button nose, you wouldn’t say no… If he hadn’t turned into an utter douchebag. It really was a shame you didn’t have the chance to get to know him when his possè wasn’t around, you blamed both Jiung, and Jongseob, for Intaks assholery. 

And Soul’s.

Soul who lingered under Jongseob’s arm all night long. That’s why you took a drink from San, to get rid of that nagging care that hung within your chest.

He didn’t care, why should you.

Pausing on top of the table, drinking in darkened eyes and an unbuttoned shirt, you wobbled for a second, then lowered yourself down to your knees in front of Intak. Licking your lips, you took in his smile. It’d been a while since anyone had been on the receiving end of your alcohol fueled pettiness, so you sucked in a breath, leaned forward and crawled toward him…

“Nope.”

An arm hooked around your waist, one strong, strapping you to his front, securing you in place with the other. Feet kicking, you grasped his hands and thrashed, the room spinning more than it had been as Yunho turned from the table and started for the hallway. Recruits were kicked, bumped into by Yunho, and pushed aside by his large frame. Swallowing down the way your stomach rolled, you wriggled and writhed, an attempt to free yourself, but he was too strong.

Throwing your head backward against his chest, you fell limp. He walked through the double doors to the hall, turned to the left and dodged an endless amount of bodies toward the kitchen, rounding the wide set of stairs that lived in the center of the first floor. The pulsing of the music quieted some, the chatter of tipsy mouths growing in volume instead. 

Grasping his arms, pushing at them, another attempt to escape, he dropped you on your feet the moment he crossed the threshold into the forest green kitchen. Wobbling, pushing your hair from your face, a tousled mess on top of your head, you scanned the dim lit kitchen and blinked.

Freshmen hung around a corner, peeking inside the door to the storage space beside the door that led to the porch outside. Yunjin, a junior and now ITZ’s appointed Secretary, strolled out with a fresh drink in her hand and the other latched to the shoulder of a sophomore recruit, the two whispering as they passed by you with light smiles. Others wandered in and out, some popped their heads inside in search of certain someone’s, and Yunho, he took to the fridge.

His shirt had been slightly disheveled. Where it was tucked in, tight to his body, it hung off of him now, still tucked within the leather of his belt though. Hair that had been parted neatly over his forehead, sprayed back so it wouldn’t move, it’d been moved. 

He pulled a bottle of water from the fridge and pushed the door shut with his elbow, not acknowledging the group of girls in the corner whispering while their eyes drew all over him. With a reluctant turn he faced you, jaw clenched, tipped up some. He cracked the bottle open, left the lid on, and let the bottom of his shoes scuff the floor as he took slow but sure steps back over to where he dropped you off. 

July.

Not a word spoken.

That night on the beach, you ripped each other apart, drunken thoughts and blunders that should’ve never left either of your lips, but they did. Running after him through Tori’s beach house, down the stairs, through the crowded kitchen, onto the porch. Thundering down the stairs he effortlessly flew down, Wooyoung on your tail, you’d caught him on the sand, and he ripped you a new one.

And you laid right back into him.

The only time you’d really spoken since the end of the semester- screams drowned out by the waves, the neighbors nor your friends would have a clue. 

Looking up at him now, your stomach roiled at the thought of his face that night, how he looked down at you. The way he ignored Wooyoung trying to keep him at the house, how he nearly spat at your feet, and should’ve, and stormed off the beach. You’d never seen him so angry. 

And now, standing in front of you handing over a cold bottle of water he got for you from your fridge, he wore nothing on his face.

Which was usually hard for him to do.

The vodka made you smile. You couldn’t help it. Taking the bottle from him you tried to swallow it down, tried to hide it. You almost laughed.

He didn’t budge.

You had to hand it to him, he’s been an excellent rule follower.

He hasn’t spoken to you since the Haos vacation, because he’s listening to you. Almost a year ago you’d told him not to speak to you unless you spoke to him first.

He took that literally.

As did you.

So here you stood.

In the middle of ITZ’s kitchen with a foot of space and a water bottle between you, in silence.

The girls in the corner watched. All you did was stare at one another, you didn’t even take a sip of the water, you let it cool off your hands and your dancing sweat, and you stared at each other. 

His top button, undone, called to you. Skin beneath it still golden from the summer in the sun, the white of his shirt making the melanin only that much deeper, you pressed your lips together to stop yourself from nibbling on them. Tousled hair, flushed skin letting you know he’s been drinking, wandering eyes that snapped back up to yours as you moved to take a sip of the bottle in your hand- he had something to say.

Lips wrapping around the spout you tipped your chin back and gulped, some water spilling from the corners of your lips and down your cheeks, onto your dress. He lurched forward, his eyebrows softening for half of a second, until he put himself back in place like some sort of soldier. Like grabbing you a napkin would put a bullet through his head.

So he didn’t.

Slapping a hand to either cheek, you flung the excess drops off, slamming the bottle onto the countertop. You met his eyes. 

Sedentary.

Looking him up and down, his six foot two self towering above you, you curved your lips into a smile as if to thank him for nothing, and then spun on your toes to saunter out of the room.

He hadn’t spoken to you since July.

Maybe you’d keep it that way.

“Aurora.”

Damn.

What would he say to you? You had to admit you were curious, what he’s been keeping bottled up for months, what he’s forgotten to say on the porch of the house he and your friends were renting for a month this summer. Maybe he’d scream it at you like he’d done that night, maybe he’d spew your equally dirty laundry out here all over the kitchen for all of your sisters to hear, for all of his brothers to hear, for everyone to know, everyone to be included like they craved to be.

What once had been hidden from everyone was no longer yours to share. Everyone knew, and everyone wanted to know what happened next.

And, so did you.

You turned around, Yunho right behind you, his cologne intoxicating, almost enough to knock you to your knees, to beg him to say something, anything, hands clasped together, brows flipped over, tell me you love me because I know you do.

He spoke first. This was it.

Yunho didn’t move. He didn’t reach for you, he didn’t look anywhere but your eyes, hardened glare digging deep into yours. “Go to your room,” he said softly enough for only you to hear, his tone not matching the intensity in his caramel irises.

Amusement rose within you, it threatened to spill out your lips, something he noticed with how the corners of your lips tipped up. He didn’t move. Standing here in silence, knowing it killed him only furthered your protest. You suppose you wanted the fight, the fire for it still scorching you inside fueled by Mina seared gasoline. 

He narrowed his eyes, flickering them to your lips for a second. A little glimmer. You’ve been shamelessly eating him alive since he set you down, but he’s done a very good job of playing his part of I don’t want you anymore. Until right now, that one second. A meaningless fracture of time, how he’d spend his hours in class beside you your freshman year, where he’d stare whenever you uttered a word, a whisper, anything. 

Unable to hold back your smile, one that broke out into a toothy, smirky grin, you whispered, “Gonna follow me up there?”

Yunho blinked. “Yeah, I am.”

You scoffed. “Say less.”

One track minded, nobody mattered anymore. Not that you gave them a thought before, at least until after Seonghwa’s handshake. Weaving through bodies, your bare feet dragging through alcohol puddles on the floor, stepping over other feet, bumping into the backs of people paired off and darting through the halls, you made it to the stairs and gave a look over your shoulder. He followed you, stone faced and close behind. He followed you.

Either tonight’s the night, or tonight’s the night.

Heart thumping in your chest you darted up the stairs as quickly as you could without slipping and falling onto your face, though you’re certain Yunho would catch you, you reach the second floor and find it empty for the most part aside from the light peeking out under the bathroom door. A few bedroom doors were cracked open, but no other lights dared to be flickered on amidst the party. 

Your hand slipped around the bannister, flinging your body around it, whipping yourself toward the bedroom you shared with Tori. Presidential status didn’t change a thing, the two of you were roommates for life. Coming back to Nasara, to your shared space, it aided in healing what happened that month in Haos, the two of you naturally falling back into the push and pull of messy and neat, of loud and sleepy, of locked door because Mingi was inside and fist banging on the door because it meant San was inside instead. The RorTor was back, and the boys knew it, they could feel it.

It made you wonder what the one behind you knew.

Voices of your sisters echoed up the stairs, the thumping of music growing faint as you pushed your door open and tumbled inside. Yunho caught it before it slammed into Tori’s vanity and rattled her hair and makeup products around like it may have already in the past. Taking it with two hands, he surveyed your bedroom, the clothes scattered across the floor, the books stacked beside dressers with papers shoved in them, how Tori’s side tended to be a bit more put together than yours, and he shut your door.

He didn’t lock it.

Spinning around, pressing your back to your bed, you crossed your arms over your chest and eyed him where he stood by the door. He reached for the lightswitch.

“Don’t,” you spat, and he shot you a look, lowering his hand with tenacity. 

Grumbling something under his breath he came toward you a few steps and waved you toward him. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go?” Squishing your brows together you tipped your chin back and curled your top lip. “You’ve lost your game, Yo.”

He winced. It still got him. “Christ, Aurora, you can’t stand up straight, get dressed for bed.” He waved you toward him again. Embarrassment was lost on you at the moment, the implication he brought you up here to sleep with you not lost on him. You glanced at his outstretched hands and teetered toward him. “This is the worst you’ve ever been,” he muttered, taking your shoulders in his hands, his palms engulfing them, turning you around. 

Letting him move you, not like you had much choice, you said, “No it’s not.”

“Yes, it is,” he said with more oomph, “You’ve been drinking all day, you’re done, and you need to calm the fuck down.” 

“How do you know I’ve been drinking all day?” you questioned. His fingers pulled at the zipper of your dress. You could feel it, the way he tried to be oh so careful not to touch your bare skin. 

Hooking his fingers beneath the straps, he lifted them a bit, then tugged them down your arms. Without touching you. “It’s not that hard to tell, but besides, Tori told me.”

Whirling around in your underwear, white fabric bunching up around your ankles, you barked, “Of course she did.”

Yunho did nothing but breathe. “We’re all cool, Rory, don’t pull shit like this again. Of course she told me.”

Your heart cried, some type of weight forming between your lungs.

Rory.

It came from his lips with ease. You aren’t even sure he realized he said it.

Gulping, you shook your head quickly. “If she told you that means that you still have a need to know.” Going dizzy, tipping sideways, Yunho grabbed your cheeks and steadied you. 

Thinning his lips, he dipped his chin down and said, “She told all of us, Aurora.”

“Whatever,” you groaned, reaching up to shove his hands away, wanting his touch off of you. “Where’s my clothes?”

Yunho took a step away from you and watched you spin in a circle. Hands tangled in your hair, pushing it away from your face as you wobbled over the floor, picked up clothes that looked like yours, he wrapped his hand around the strands like a ponytail and gently lifted your head, halting your search. He held up a big shirt and ignored your wide eyes, your instant submission. 

“Here,” he said under his breath, letting go of you.

Taking it from him, literally the shirt you went to sleep in last night, you took a step backward and slipped it over your head. “Thanks,” you whispered, looking up at him. He’d taken a few steps back as well. Sliding a hand up the back of the tee you unclasped your bra and reached into the sleeves to pull it off, slipping it out of one of them and tossing it to the floor. 

Yunho sucked in a breath, pressed his hands to his thighs and glanced away, jaw clenched. “What’s the matter, Aurora?” he asked, giving you the smallest glance in case more clothes were coming off. You curled your fingers beneath the hem of the shirt and smushed it in your palms. Facing you completely, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks and tilted his head. “I know you’re not getting shitfaced ‘cause of me.” You looked up at him. “But if you are, I need you to tell me.” 

“I don’t wanna…” you whispered, the start of a sentence you were somehow able to cut off. The words made you nauseous. The words, ones you never thought you’d say, they made you want to rip the t-shirt off, tear your sheets off your bed and Tori’s, kick and smash the mirror that stood between your beds, knock over your dressers and scream until you couldn’t. 

“You don’t wanna?” he asked, repeating what you’d said. “I just wanna understand, you don’t-”

“I-don’t-wanna-be-president.” A heavy sigh followed, one that almost took you to your knees. Staring at the floor, not wanting to see his reaction, you pulled at the shirt hanging off of you and watched the wood under your feet spin. “My mom is calling me, everyday, I don’t know how, my dad had a heart attack, we’re living with my uncle, if he doesn’t call me, like, every hour, I think something bad happened, and I don’t wanna be president anymore.”

Yunho stood in silence.

Glancing up, meeting his eyes, you smiled. Then, you laughed, and he scoffed.

“This is how I know you’re still okay,” he shook his head, throwing a hand toward you bent over in a fit of giggles. “What the hell, Aurora?”

“I know,” you giggled, then gasped, standing up abruptly, taking many steps towards him. His shoulders tensed. “We don’t know how she got his number either, she hasn’t talked to my dad in years, like over twenty years, why the fuck is she trying to get to him? It’s been longer than I knew about too, he didn’t tell me for a while, I blamed his heart attack on her, you don’t get it, Yo, he loved her, and he left her, and she gave him me, and she ran the fuck away.” 

Yunho took his hands back to your shoulders and pushed you away from him a bit, putting space between you. “I know,” he mumbled as you rambled, bobbing his head, “I know the story.”

“He loved her, real bad,” you said again, and he rolled his eyes. “And she broke his heart, isn’t that awful? And then she came back only to leave him with me. She handed me over and she left us.” Yunho gulped, and nodded. “That’s like, imagine if I really was pregnant, and I didn’t talk to you for so long, and then handed you our kid on vacation, like-”

“Oh my god, stop,” he groveld, face scrunching up, hands tightening on your shoulders.

“I’m serious!” you shouted, trying to step back toward him, but he wouldn’t let you. 

He groaned, then grumbled, “The fact that you thought about the timeline makes it worse, Rory.”

You laughed, and he shot you a look. “I had to, Yo, what the fuck?”

“What the fuck?” he spat, furrowing his brows. “What the fuck is… No,” he took his hands off of you and stood up straight, “I’m not having this fight again.” 

You grasped your arms over your chest, gazing down at his chest peeking out of his shirt. “You’ll lose it again anyway.”

If looks could kill his glare would have splayed you out on the floor in pieces. Holding up a hand, he clasped it into a fist and took a deep breath. “Whatever,” he said with a patience like he practiced it, “Whatever, whatever. I’m sorry about your dad, but he’s okay, he’s at your uncle’s like you said, if anything happens to him, they’re there with him.”

Tightening your grip on yourself, you shifted your jaw around and shrugged your shoulders, feeling your eyes growing heavier the longer you weren’t sipping a drink. “I should go home and be with him,” you said, and he shook his head.

“He wouldn’t want that,” Yunho said, and you glanced up at him.

“Wooyoung said the same thing,” you mumbled. With a grimace Yunho popped his brows. “You still don’t like him.” He didn’t answer you, not even with his eyes. “I told him this,” you breathed, “That I don’t wanna do this anymore, that I wanna stay home with him, that I don’t feel right here anymore, and he tried to help, he tried to fix it, tried to fix me.”

“You aren’t broken, Rory,” he crooned.

Pressing your nails into your skin, you smiled. “But, I feel it.”

Yunho puffed his chest and stepped toward you, his expression going mad. “Because he made you feel that way.”

Ah, the tale of Wooyoung’s Aurora’s Therapist. You knew that one.

“No, he didn’t,” you stepped closer to him, your chests nearly touching, “You’re not listening to me, did you hear what I said? No, you just hear his name and get all angry, and ignore whatever I said, god, this always happens, you don’t listen to me!”

He closed the space, bumping your arms with his chest. “I am listening,” he grit his teeth, “you said-” Something inside of him snapped, and he closed his eyes. Tipping his chin up, he took a breath. “No, I’m not doing this. I’m still mad, you’re still mad, we can’t do this, not right now.”

Pressing your hands to his chest you gave him a nudge. “Mad about what?! My late period?”

“Him,” he growled, looking down at you. “I’m mad about him.”

A laugh came out of you. You nudged him again. “You were fucking me and Mina, how can you be mad about him?!”

He went unmoved by your shoves, like he was on that beach all over again. With a shake of his head, he said, “See, we both have shit we’re not over.” He nodded to the left, glancing toward your bed. “You’re trashed, you need to get in bed, we’re done talking.” 

“Yeah,” you sneered, walking backward, tripping over a stray shoe. He caught you and you shook him off. “We’re done talking. No more. Ever. Forever.”

Yunho laughed under his breath and guided you toward your bed. “You don’t mean that.” 

You spun around and pressed yourself against him, eyes wild. “But, I do. You didn’t speak to me for months, you’ll be fine.”

Fire burned in his eyes. “Because I’m following your stupid fucking rule!”

Your hands swatted at his chest, at his arms, and he took it all. “Fuck the stupid fucking rule, Yo! We’re grown!”

“Fine,” he laughed even louder, grasping your wrists, holding them tight. “Fuck the stupid fucking rule,” he lowered his chin, his eyes lined with yours, “Don’t expect me to come save you next time. Good luck with your fucking presidency, Aurora.” 

His nose brushed against yours. Your heated, angry breath graced each other's cheeks. 

Moving at once, moving as one, your hands fumbled to grab onto one another, your lips couldn’t meet fast enough. Your fingers fisted into his hair, pulling him onto you, his were thrown around your shoulders, bending you backward. Nothing but a mess, a furious, frustrated, heated mess of parted lips and famished tongues.

The first kiss in months, in almost a year. You almost forgot how he tasted, but not enough time had passed, the familiarity sunk back in before your tongues tangled. How he moved, how you moved, how your bodies melded together, how they knew how to come together like they moved on their own, two beings who knew and craved each other, knew that whatever was to follow was something they liked, something they wanted.

Yunho almost wedged a knee between yours, but the bedroom door had been flung open. It bumped into Tori’s vanity and rattled her beauty products. Neither of you have moved faster in your lives, both of you ignoring how it felt like neither of you wanted to move.

Tori and San stood at the door, one shocked face and another smug as ever. 

Without a second thought Yunho stormed out of your room, barging by them, bumping their shoulders. Smoothing out your shirt, nibbling at your bottom lip, you smiled at San, but cowered beneath Tori’s shock. 

No words were spoken, none shared.

Hurrying up to San, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, Tori pulled the bedroom door shut and followed Yunho down the stairs.

sunday ~ september 21st ~ 9:45 am

Her fist pounded on the door three times.

Groaning beneath the sheets, you stirred, opening your eyes to the morning light, pulling the blanket from your face. You aren’t met with the sun. With his arm under his head, his eyes fluttered shut, and his lips parted slightly, San slept soundly, unaffected by the shaking door.

Throwing the blankets off of the two of you, grabbing his arm to shake him awake, you sigh at your naked selves and roll off of the mattress. Snatching the shirt you put on last night, the one San took off of you, you yanked it over your head and trudged toward the door.

“Can she shut up,” San grumbled from the pillows, stretching his arms over his head, his muscled middle winking at you before he flipped over and buried his face in the mattress. The blankets apparently didn’t mean shit to him.

Unlocking the door, you pulled it open a crack and gave Tori a smile. Wearing a frown, she didn’t quite match your morning energy. She pushed open the door and gave you a once over, she herself wearing some of her boyfriends clothes. She kicked the door shut and started for the dresser next to her bed, pulling hair pins from her head. 

“You’ve got balls being here, Choi,” she said to San’s bare ass. He rolled over and flashed her a grin. She turned to you, three more pins falling into her hand, ones she tossed on the dresser. “You’re lucky I didn’t break in the door, and that it’s just me.”

Folding your arms over your chest, you puffed out your cheeks and smiled again. “I’m the president.”

Tori whirled around, pulling nice clothes from drawers to change into. She messed with her eyebrow piercing and shot San a glare. “That’s not funny,” she said, “That’s not what a good president would do.” Waving a hand at the boy watching the two of you, she motioned at his clothes. “Out!” San looked at you.

Sighing, you took to his side and whispered, “Go. Out the window. The girls can’t see you.”

His charisma oozed from his smirk. “I don’t make you sneak out my window, Ror.”

“If you didn’t fall asleep here, you could’ve walked out the front door last night.”

He glanced down at himself, gorgeous physique on display for you and your best friend, and he smiled. “I’ll see you tonight?” he asked you, and you smiled, but you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t count on it,” you muttered.

It was enough for him. He leapt from your bed, slipped into his pants, swiped his shirt from the floor and disappeared off of your roof. By the time he was gone Tori had already changed, beige flared dress pants and a white fitted tank with Versace on the tag.

“Where’d you sleep?” you asked her, turning to sit down on the edge of your bed.

Putting in her gold hoops she turned and said, “Mingi’s. You better start getting ready, we have to be downstairs in fifteen, the boys’ll be here in ten.”

The meeting, right.

The meeting.

Anxiety flooded your veins. You’d call it nerves, but it’s persisted long enough. It made you nauseous, it made you not sleep if you were sober, it made you jumpy. Wooyoung called it anxiety, so it was anxiety.

“Shit, I don’t even think I have…” Sliding off your bed you started for your dresser and sifted through notebooks, then moved under your bed and sifted through your things. “I don’t have all my-”

Tori placed a hand on your shoulder. Looking up at her from the floor, you stood up slowly and faced her. “They’re on the desk,” she said softly. With a steady face, a steady tone, she said, “I organized them all with Yunjin. You just have to make the decisions and sign on the line.”

You swallowed away the lump in your throat, the electricity in your veins lessening. Since school’s been back she’s been on top of your shit. And her own shit. And the house's shit.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Pressing her now glossy lips together, she patted your shoulder, averted her eyes, and nodded. “Course.” Flickering her eyes back to yours, she gave you half a smile. “Get dressed and come downstairs. Please.”

“I will,” you whispered. 

She left in a cloud of Calvin Klein perfume, leaving you to dress yourself. Your white dress still lived in a heap on the floor where Yunho took it off of you. Searching your brain, walking over it, you cannot remember half of the things you said to him last night, half of what he said to you. You kissed him, that much you remembered. He kissed you.

And if San and Tori didn't walk in on you, you would’ve woken up beside Yunho instead. 

More nausea.

Changing into clothes appropriate for a meeting, something clean and not from the floor, a pair of jeans and a Nasara crew neck, just as you slipped it over your bed head, your phone rang from beneath a sweater on the rug. Sifting through the fabric, smoothing your hair in the process, one glance at the screen made you groan. You clicked the red button and opened your fathers text thread instead. At least the unknown number no longer filled you with dread.

Tapping the button to call him, you settled back on your bed, nestling yourself in the pillows.

He picked up just after the first ring.

“This is early for you on a Sunday,” he said, a tv echoing somewhere in the background behind his voice, “Everything okay?” A deep voice mumbled over the noise of the show. Yeonjun pulled the phone away, his voice going quiet. “Aurora… Yeah,” he said, then spoke into the phone, “Yoongi says hi.”

“Hi Yoongi,” you said within a breath, then sighed, “Dad, she called me again.”

“Motherfucker,” he muttered.

“That’s you, Junie,” you said, and he scoffed.

“Shut it.”

Sharing the smallest of laughs, you listened as he shared the intel with your uncle, his older brother.

“Don’t answer any,” he said to you, and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t plan on it, it’s creepy she got my number.”

Yeonjun took a breath, you could hear it. “Yeah, I don’t like how that happened.”

Gulping, grabbing onto the pillow San slept on, pulling it into your lap, you squeezed it, bracing yourself for his answer to your question. “Have you talked to her? At all?”

“Hell no,” he said without missing a beat, “I have nothing to say to her.”

You fisted the silk in your lap. “You keep getting calls too, right?”

He shifted around where he sat, you could hear it. After a heavy breath, he muttered, “Yes.”

“Maybe she knows what happened,” you said quietly, body going very still. He was a man not keen on discussing his own health problems, whether it almost took him out or not. Even if you gave it the slightest of mentions he’d grumble like a child, though he didn’t give you as hard of a time as his brother, those two would get into it.

“How the fuck would she know all that?” 

“I don’t know,” you scoffed, “You used to frequent ‘Mano, maybe one of your girlfriends told her.” He laughed, you could hear how his head tipped backward. “When’s the last time you saw Seulgi?” 

His off and on not girlfriend. Hard to believe you were his child, right?

“Uh… August.”

“Exactly,” you said, “She’s spreading your shit.”

“I’m done with her,” he breathed, and even Yoongi laughed aloud in the background.

A smile spread onto your cheeks. “Thirty six…” you mumbled in thought, “Thirty seven?”

Yeonjun spoke to you and his brother, “Shut uuup,” he drug out.

“Think that’s the thirty seventh time you’ve said that,” you teased him. 

Yoongi said something in the background you couldn’t make out, but you knew he’d be agreeing with you if he could hear you. Yeonjun typically kept these conversations to himself when others were around in Yoongi’s house, whether it be his brother, his sister in law, or any of their kids.

“I mean it this time,” he said, “I haven’t seen her since August, you know that. She can’t handle the sober shit, so I’m done.”

His words made your blood run cold, but somehow it comforted you. Life since he’s come home from the hospital hasn’t been easy on him, or Yoongi, or you. Everything had been flipped upside down. Yeonjun didn’t lose any aspect of not being able to live his life, he could function just like everyone else, but the degree to which everything happened scared the shit out of every single one of you. The physical therapy he went through to get some of his mobility back, the strict change in diet and habits, none of it went over easy with him. A man stuck in his ways since adolescence…

Yoongi had been helping him sell the house, they packed up your childhood, your entire life into boxes, and shoved it into his basement. That little, beautiful, one story home on a street now desolate, but to you still so incredible, it stood with a sign pushed into the front lawn, one that read For Sale. Your uncle jokes that he foresaw this happening at some point, it just took twenty years longer than he thought- jokes centered around Yeonjun actually being a good dad and handling his shit when only Yoongi thought he could. It only took him dropping to the floor in his garage for this move to happen.

“You’re doing a good job, Dad,” you said quietly. 

He hesitated, then asked, “How was the dinner, Aura?” Never acknowledging himself, his accomplishments, how far he’s come, and how great he really has been doing. With a switch change of the subject he knew you were complimenting him but he simultaneously shoved a knife into your stomach.

“It was good,” you lied through your teeth. “Everything went exactly as planned, Tori did a really great job. They’re already making her a plaque for the hall of fame.” A joke, one you knew would be true, and she deserved it. 

“Give her my love.” 

You could hear his smile. “You’ll kill her if I do.”

He laughed. “How’s, uh… That boy.” You sucked in a breath, your stomach going sour. “Yunho. Right?”

“Yeah, him.”

“Did he talk to you at the dinner like you hoped?” The way his tone changed made a lump grow in your throat. His I’m trying tone.

Thinking of what to tell him, what to say to him, nothing of last night seemed appealing. Not that you could remember what you or Yunho said. You could only place the kiss. His lips and the way he pushed you backward, like he yearned for more, like he wanted more.

“Yeah, he, uh, he did,” you said. “But, it-”

“Aurora!” Tori yelled from the stairs. “We’re about to start!”

“It what? What’d he do?” Yeonjun asked.

“Dad, I gotta go,” you sighed, “We have a meeting.”

Yeonjun took a breath himself. “I don’t… Okay, yeah, call me later.”

“You don’t what?” you asked, sliding off of your bed, searching for shoes to slip into. 

Yeonjun hummed, then said, “It’s nothing. Go, President, have a good meeting.”

Your throat tightened. With sneakers on your feet you reached for the door handle and pulled it open, faced with a hallway of girls bustling about, greeting you with smiles. “Thanks,” you said to him, “Take your meds, please.”

“Already done,” he said, Yoongi’s voice sounding from the background.

Locking your phone, hanging up, ignoring the voicemail notification left behind from the unknown caller, you slipped it into your back pocket and yanked your door shut, smiling back at the girls who took their time to say hello to you. Returning their morning niceness, something you weren’t accustomed to, you spread your hello’s across the floor and tossed a few compliments toward a couple who were dressed and ready for the day.

Spinning around to eye a freshmen’s sandals, giving her your A+, five star rating, as you turned back to head down the stairs you fumbled right into the arms of a freshman, Kazuha, or Kaz as she mentioned she liked to be called. Her eyes widened, irises so dark they were almost black. She was a tiny thing just around your height, if not an inch or so taller, and she seemed to dress similarly to you in a sense, keeping things low maintenance, something she didn’t seem to care about in the couple of weeks you’ve known her. 

She joined the sorority with similar intentions to most, she wanted a sisterhood, a place to call her own, find where she belonged. But, there was something different about her. Quiet, yes, she kept to herself, but she didn’t force herself into belonging. While some of the girls took on the styles of other sisters, attempted to impress upperclassmen and members of the board, Kaz held onto herself. Her style, her sense of personality- authentic. 

Listening to her shower you with apologies now, her unmanicured hands grabbing onto your shoulders, her head shaking back and forth, long, thin, colored black hair swishing over her back, you couldn’t help but smile. 

Sifting through your brain for that night in Wooyoung’s apartment, you searched for her profile, her resume. Wooyoung had been the one to look it over, and she’d been placed in the doesn’t have an ounce of Yeji in her blood category.

You were safe. Kazuha was safe. 

“Aurora, I’m so sorry,” she gasped.

“You’re fine, it’s my fault,” you smiled, “I was not paying attention, I’m sorry.”

Kaz shook her head. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she smiled with you. “This is perfect actually, I was waiting until later today, but, if I can, I have something to ask you, if we’re having a parents weekend, or family weekend this year?”

Nodding, you put your hands on her shoulders. “Of course we are, I know Tori has plans for it.”

Kaz sighed, relief flooding onto her face. “Thank you, my mom and sister have been dying for a reason to come bother me.”

“No problem,” you said, giving her a gentle shake. Her eyes swept over your face before her smile deepend. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you soon.”

Letting go of her, giving her a wave after she bid you goodbye, you hurried down the stairs, around the corner, and rushed into the room in the back of the house. A big wooden desk greeted you, as did a few smiling faces all facing Tori where she stood beside your chair. They were in light discussion of the night before, your cheeks threatened to turn pink. Laughs, inside jokes, comments of what went on, you weren’t aware of any of it. 

They all said hello to you, except Yunho.

He sat next to Mingi who sat directly in front of where Tori stood. In black sweatpants, a navy blue hoodie, his glasses perched on his nose just beneath his freshly washed hair, he didn’t even spare you a glance. Feeling your phone vibrate in your back pocket, you let them continue their last night jokes and pulled it out, expecting to see another voicemail waiting for you.

To your surprise, your dad had left you a text.

[choi asshole #1]:  I don’t know how I feel about this one aura that’s all. I don’t want to sway your decision because I know how you feel but I don’t know. What you had with wooyoung was so good how can you go from one to the other??? I trust that you will make the right decision. You usually do. Take your time. I love you.

Tears brimmed your eyes. Sitting down in the leather chair, the mass of the desk nearly swallowing you, you gave the message a heart and set your phone down. Looking out into the room, all of the couches and chairs facing you, the new board members' eyes flickering around with excitement, you sucked down a deep breath and sat forward, your elbows laying across the wood.

“Okay, okay,” Tori spoke up, quieting the room. Holding her hand out to Seonghwa, she grinned. “Hi guys.”

The boys returned her hello, but Mingi’s was the loudest, his smitten little smile gazing up at her behind his large frames on his nose. 

Tori took a deep breath, scanned the room, smiled at you, then announced, “The Sweethearts Formal is happening this year.”  

The girls erupted with cheers, Mingi and Seonghwa shouting with them as the other boys smiled and slapped their hands together. Everyone filled with instant excitement, a happiness that couldn’t reach you, or the boy sitting beside Mingi. 

Tori clasped her hands together and took a breath. “And we will be opening it to students outside of our organizations.” More cheers. Yunho shifted in his seat, his eyes pointed to his lap. “Chaewon and I will start looking for spaces to hold it as soon as possible,” she turned to you, “As soon as we have eligible places, we’ll hand them over to you two,” she glanced at Seonghwa who spent a few seconds with his eyes on you, “And we’ll await approval.” 

The Sweethearts Formal. An event you knew would come with some sort of twist, because they always did. An event for Tori to plan, for her to handle. Something you knew she adored.

All you had to do was sign the papers.

NU home ✧ speechless masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[chelnciel]

March cover of comic gene is here!

It's like the May 2021 cover, when Hirano's replacement cover was released.

They are so cute that it hurts!