needy • j.w.w.
Pairing: jeon wonwoo x afab!reader
Genres: smut (minors dni!), established relationship!au
Warnings: swearing, teasing, dirty talk, unrealistic amt of orgasms heh, male masturbation, mentions of car sex, fingering (fem. receiving), phone sex but not like you think, messy oral (fem. receiving), safe sex 🫡, wonu's a bit of a perv tbh and reader loves puts up w/ it, mentions of children but not like really lmao, mentions of (cock)roaches, wonu in glasses and needy = double kill imho, ft. some of the boys being intrusive tbh haha, POSSESSION, and a good amt of noisy sex hahah lmk if i missed anything!
WC: 4.9k
A/N: well it's finally my first wonu fic :3 after hoarding so many in the drafts bc I always feel like I can't write him too well, I had to take the plunge since it's a dear request from my lovely @wonuhour ❤️ I really hope you enjoy this 🤞🏼 no taglist as this is a request so I hope y'all read this but sending some love to my fav wonwoorideul @wonwussy bc she said I could tag her mwah. I think I held my head 5 times while editing this haha...
It's late when you step out into the night's cool air, a sigh of relief at finally being freed from the corporate building where you work. Pulling out your phone from the bag slung across your shoulder, your face lights up just like the screen when you focus on two distinct notifications on it.
1 missed call — hubby ♡
1 new voicemail — hubby ♡
"Hey, baby. You're probably dealing with those idiots right now but by the time you're listening to this, you should be on your way back home to me."
Wonwoo's deep voice is always so soothing, filling your body with inexplicably warm, fuzzy feelings that trail from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. The knowledge that he pays attention to even the minute details you think he might not care about in trivial, daily conversations or complaints makes your heart flutter with joy.
Your husband has always had that effect on you. He's aware you aren't able to pick up and it's not like he expects you to do so. Wonwoo simply leaves a voice message, knowing it will provide you comfort on your walk to the car and subsequent drive home until you can seek real solace in his embrace.
And maybe — just maybe — he calls to simply hear your pretty voice that plays on the answering machine because he misses you during your long shift. The embarrassed giggle when you mess up and stumble across your words during the recording. Never bothering to go back to change or fix it because it makes the corners of Wonwoo's mouth perk up, breaking his usual stoic expression. At least according to what Mingyu's let slip.
Which is hilarious in and of itself because your husband is anything but poker face when in your presence. His friends tease, saying he's become a different man because of you — following you around and acting like a lovesick puppy rather than his normal, self-acclaimed dignified cat persona. But you deny it. He's always been the same person with you and maybe that's just because you're meant to be.
"Be safe on your way home. Remember to lock the doors when you're inside, although I know you will 'cause how many times have you accidentally locked me out when you've beat me back to the car first?" He lets out a strangely breathy laugh, one that you mimic in fondness at the past memory and simply of him, doing exactly as he says as you shut the driver seat's door. "Miss you so, so much today. Even more than usual, baby. 'specially that sweet pussy of yours."
Nothing — not even Mingyu's weird trait of being privy and somehow knowing or aware of way too much in your relationship — could have prepared you for those words. You're extremely grateful you're inside your car right now. Not fearing other people overhearing but because you would've collapsed right on the sidewalk in public. Victim to your husband's seductive desperation.
"Can't stop thinking 'bout it. How pretty it looks, how good you taste, how perfect you always feel wrapped around me."
Your head falls back against the headrest, the hand holding your phone drops onto your thigh, and your mouth and eyes widen together in awe. The wireless buds fit snugly inside your ears allow you to pick up on the underlying slick sounds as he speaks. Your mouth waters, a sweep of electrifying energy causing the hairs on your arms to raise.
Fuck. He's stroking that gorgeous thick cock of his. Because he yearns so much for you.
"'round my fingers, my dick, my tongue… so soft and wet and tight… mhm, oh god — what a messy little thing. And your lips too, wanna kiss you so bad. For hours, non-stop."
People like to make assumptions about your relationship. Things like how Wonwoo must be the calm and collected one, the domineering and composed person within your dynamics. It's annoying but you can't really blame them — it's human nature after all. While they aren't entirely wrong, it's not like they're right either.
On the occasions when your husband's lust for you outweighs his level-headedness, he loses all reason. Not above begging, whining, or babbling nonsense, his neediness becomes next level. You're so caught up in thinking about the exact man you're supposed to be listening to, you realize you've nearly missed most of the words he's spouting in his gravelly voice. You rewind the playback.
"… to stop thinkin' 'bout it or I'll want you even more. Wanna ruin you. Destroy you. Worship you. Ah… you're in your car, aren't you love? Please tell me you are, 'member when I slipped a finger inside last week on our way home from the mall? Then two. Then three. Had to make sure my pretty baby's pussy was stuffed nice and full. It's what you deserve, after all."
His lazy drawl and filthy words make your thighs clench. He knows it too. "Bet you're squeezing those luscious legs of yours together… ah, what I wouldn't give to have them around me instead…" A laugh again, almost a wheeze, like the air's being sucked out of his lungs at the thought. Many thoughts. "Made such a mess that day… hngh, almost wrecked the car over how wrecked you were, baby."
You glance at the empty passenger seat out of the corner of your eye. Almost shamefully, like a curious nun side-eyes a sinner sitting in church. Wonwoo's skillful and long, bony fingers buried inside your cunt — to no surprise — had you a writhing mess, an insane orgasm ripped from your body. You were afraid the upholstery was ruined because of it, the car still smelling like sex and preventing you from offering your sulky neighbor Seungcheol a lift this week.
"Bastard," you mutter affectionately and roll your eyes at your next statement, pretending as if he can hear you. "Like you weren't just as wrecked that I had to suck you off as soon as we parked and then rushed inside since you didn't wanna cum in my mouth."
"Ahhhhh, shoot…!"
As if he can hear your words, a particularly loud moan followed by a string of curses falls out of your husband's mouth. You are just able to hear the sped up sounds of him rutting more urgently against his palm. The visual of his large hands looking much smaller when wrapped around his huge cock floods your mind, wondering if he's tightened his grasp to better resemble it to drilling deep inside of your warmth instead of his hand. Eyebrows creasing together, biting down on his bottom lip before his mouth opens again in another moan that fills your ears at the right time.
The familiar creak of his home office chair causes a devious smirk to grace your face. He hasn't realized in his lust-driven state that he'd given away how desperate he really was to be fucking into his fist between freelance projects. More than likely frustrated when something wasn't encoding right after hours of staring at the screen but it was most probable that Wonwoo was simply down bad.
Achingly missing his partner when you weren't around to rub his shoulders, bring him some tea, lighten up the mood with a bad joke, or even try and help point out a possible error with a fresh set of eyes. Even nicer, sit on his lap all pretty to keep his cock all warm and coated in wetness or get on your knees beneath his desk and try to keep quiet while you take him down your throat.
You were always a bit on the noisy side. Even now, you can't help but let out a whimper at how uncomfortable your nipples feel poking against your bra. Dampening your panties, poor clit already puffy and throbbing unstimulated.
The Wonwoo in your imagination has his head thrown back, throat presented prettily that you wish you could actually mark up. In-tune with what he sounds like when he's about to come undone, you listen intently to your husband's stifled groans and harsh pants in anticipation. Holding your breath, hoping he's so lost in bliss that he won't leave you hanging.
Like a lifeline, a muttered "fuck, baby," as if he's really right there with you in the car as his deep moan fills your ears just like it does in-person. Imaginary Wonwoo drops his head back down and the hungry look in his dark brown eyes causes your hips to involuntarily twitch, thighs trembling. Shockingly, you don't orgasm from that alone but you sure as hell were on the brink of doing so.
For a finale, your husband stays on the line while he catches his breath and your dirty mind wanders once more. Hard not to when you hear the wet sounds of his hand still rubbing his cock. A whimper of "hm, just like that," and a hiss because he's sensitive makes your head spin, cunt clenching sadly around nothing. A sob practically leaves your chest at the absolute want to milk him dry just as he wishes at that moment.
"Miss you so much. Need to eat out my precious baby. Mhm, I just know that sopping cunt is begging for me to lick it up…"
The scratch of tissues being pulled out of their holder is enough of an attempt to tug you out of the foggy cloud of lust. You lick your lips.
"… so come and hurry home safely, love."
You do — so close to cumming untouched — but you stave off the feeling, speeding home somehow without crashing. For all your car has put up with, you're honestly surprised it hasn't given out on you in revenge. But that's neither here nor there at the moment, stumbling out of the vehicle once you arrive home and scrambling faster than a marathon-runner to get inside.
It would be a lie to say you weren't disappointed with how quiet and dark it is. Quietly setting your bag down, you stand with your back pressed against the front door. Almost expecting your husband to appear out of the shadows and pounce on you.
It's happened before. You can proudly declare with your whole chest that you've fucked on every surface of this lovely little house purchased in the third year of your marriage.
Instead, something brushes against your leg and you bend down to pick up your daughter. She hangs pliantly as you gently wiggle her and whisper, "Where's your daddy?"
The cat replies with a plaintive meow. You smile when she twitches her tail, stalking off towards the direction of the living room. Wonwoo likes to teasingly say she takes after you with a distinct cat-titude despite the fact that he naturally happens to be the more dedicated caretaker between the two of you. Mingyu was always needlessly curious which one of you another cat would take after — or worse, if you had actual children.
That wouldn't happen for quite a bit, trailing behind the true ruler of the household and watching as she climbs up onto her expensive cat-tree to sulk. Wonwoo must not have given her enough attention today. Demonstrated by the angry way she squints toward the open doorway of the study illuminated by the blue glow of your husband's computer.
"Daddy's in rare form today," you try and explain, rubbing in between her ears and she purrs in response. "Don't worry, Mommy will go and fix him so he ultra dotes on you like the little princess he thinks you are."
You make a kissy face in her direction because she is a precious royalty. Then you're approaching the study where deep grunts and muttered curses can be heard among a furious clacking of keyboard keys.
"On your left — no, Mingyu… your other left!"
Crossing your arms, you pout. You'd be lying if gamer Wonwoo wasn't unfairly attractive — jawline clenched as he barks out orders into his headset, the computer screen graphics reflecting off his glasses. A stark contrast to the ratty hoodie and old man slippers he's wearing, angrily slapping his feet on the ground when Seokmin accidentally pressed the wrong button and self-destructs.
You're glad he's blowing off some steam and stress with the boys. Though you had once asked why he didn't bother watching porn on his expensive and impressive set-up. Flattered when he admitted that having you as the real deal beat anything he could ever try to search for.
Now you're not as sure, though. He seems rather content and preoccupied after working you all up with that damn voicemail of his. With a flounce, you turn to head to the shower as your husband rages over Chan mistakenly shooting at the wrong team. Meeting a feline gaze on the way to the bathroom that shares your same sentiment of disdain.
Sticky, ruined panties cause a glare and another pout to adorn your face once the water is turned on to heat up. One Wonwoo might find cute. If he could see it. You nearly jump out of your skin when there's a knock on the door, so soft it almost sounds like a bump.
A certain kitty often bangs against doors just to startle her owners but she's also good at opening them too. When it remains shut and you hear a low call of your name rather than spooky silence, a pleading meow, or it flying open, you let out a breath of relief. Trying not to appear too eager, you crack the door open just enough to narrow one eye at your husband.
"Hi, baby."
"Hey."
Long gone is his cozy hoodie, though his black sweatpants remain on. Displaying lean, upper body muscles to ogle and pert nipples that could poke you in the eyeball with how near he is. Pushing up his glasses, he raises his eyebrows when you don't make an effort to move.
"You don't normally knock."
"I wasn't sure if it was you or our little mischief maker in here."
"Uh-huh, and who says I'm not mischievous as well?" You turn around but leave the door ajar and he takes that as an invitation to come in.
"No one's ever said you weren't," Wonwoo reassures but frowns, "no welcome home kiss?"
"You know, little miss mischief maker seemed pretty miffed, did daddy not pay enough attention to her today? That's unlike you."
"Mhm, was busier than I thought today. Had a lot on my mind… work and all that. Absolutely drowning in it."
"Is that so? She seems pretty upset so be sure you make it up to her."
It's like a cat-and-mouse game, though who's who is really the question. Maybe you're both cats in a stand-off. You know Wonwoo would never not truly attend to your beloved pet. You fight back a smirk, able to feel his heated gaze trail down your back and focus on your ass that you jut out on purpose to check the water temperature. A rush of fresh arousal surges through your system.
"Yeah?" Your husband's hand shoots out past yours to turn the shower off, ignoring your protest. "I think I upset another kitten too." Spinning you around so his damp thumb can pull at your bottom lip as you flutter your eyelashes at him.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not a cat. And I'm most certainly not upset."
He pecks at your lips almost condescendingly. "Sure, baby. You shouldn't be, you know, with the nice present I left for your pleasure after work."
You let out an elated sigh as he holds your face still and peppers kisses all over, trailing down to focus on your neck so you can speak. "If that's your idea of a nice gift, I'd hate to see what a bad one is."
"You didn't like it?" Somehow Wonwoo's eyes manage to sparkle when he looks up at you with a whine, pausing his kisses down the valley between your breasts. His other hand sneakily reaches in between your legs and he smiles against your skin. "Or did you like it too much? Don't think I've ever gotten you a bad gift, baby."
Slender fingers play with your messy wetness, sliding back and forth languidly without rush. You struggle to clear your mind to ask with sarcasm, "Wh-what about that st-stupid cockroach plushie?"
"It was cute. Just like you."
"That's it, I'm getting a shower."
"I don't think so." Wonwoo's free hand flies to splay out on your back, preventing you from moving and pressing your body even closer to his.
You purse your lips, brown eyes locking in on them immediately. "You think I'm on the same level as cockroaches."
"Only like the super cute, not-real ones."
"…We're filing for divorce right after I clean up."
"Mhm, but I'm not done with you yet so it'd be a waste of water. Besides, you hate showering together."
You can't help but grind down against his stationary palm, wishing he'd just slip a finger inside. "Because… no one's getting clean… if you're in there with me."
"Exactly," he's entranced by how much of your arousal continues to coat his hand. Cock twitching with the ache to be where his fingers are instead. "You know the drill, baby. Besides, I'm aware of how much you like it when I'm wearing my glasses."
"Wonwoo…"
He hushes your moan with a smirk and another kiss to your irresistible lips. "Yeah, lovely. It's okay, I'll give you what you want. And what I want too."
Surely, you would've bashed your head open on the tile floors had it not been for the support of the countertop you'd braced your palm on. Legs as shaky as a newborn fawn with how long you've been buzzing with desire. Especially when your husband backs away to withdraw his hand, ravenously slurping up your essence with a blissed out face. An appreciative, low grunt as he licked his fingers clean, dark gaze not straying away from your naked body before him.
"Shouldn't have done the laundry, silly baby. How else am I supposed to control myself without any sort of relief to get me through the day?"
Your jaw drops. "Pervert!"
"Know you like it." He ignores the light slap to his shoulder that bears no malice, finding zero resistance when he tugs you by the hand to drag you into the bedroom. "You love when I'm this desperate for you. Can't get anything done, can't think of anything else… all you, you, and you. And this greedy pussy."
Your back's resting on the mattress before you can blink. Wonwoo sits and parts your legs, taking in the delectable sight of your puffy cunt that spreads open to seep more arousal. Asking to be taken care of and filled.
"Just look at it, how could I not desire it every moment of the day?" A kiss is pressed against your left ankle. "When it's just as perfect as you?" Another to the side of your knee cap. "And so fuckin' addictive." He switches to the right to suck the skin on your thigh. "Absoluting begging to be filled up so prettily whenever I want."
It's a mix between a scream and groan of frustration that leaves your throat when your husband lightly smooches right above your hip crease before licking the salt off your skin. He's so close to where you want him and he grins at your patient façade slowly slipping. His tongue pokes out, just grazing the left side of your pussy.
"Wonwoo…!"
He is rarely this talkative, either he truly missed you or this is a new form of torture.
A pointer finger taps your pubic bone and drags downward, lifting away before it hits your clit. "And all mine," he growls out before devouring your cunt like you want.
Your husband eats you out like a starved man. Ravenous in all the best ways. Your hips can't help but jerk in time with the movements of his tongue lapping at your inner walls and cleaning up the gracious amounts of slick you've created. Whines leaving your mouth at how good it feels, fingers anxiously threading through his curls and making them even messier. Your legs wrap around his neck as you somehow bring his head even closer to drown inside your scent, your taste, and your wet heat.
Wonwoo revels in it.
Normally, he would have more control. More strictness, more fortitude. But he's so far gone, appreciative growls that could rival the best-selling vibrator on the market shake you to your very core. The frames of his glasses dig into your thighs but you don't even feel them with the intense amount of pleasure from Wonwoo's thumb playing with your clit. His nose occasionally adds to the mind-dumbing feeling by nuzzling against it when he shakes his head with vigor.
You have no choice but to hurdle towards a fast orgasm like a dam breaking. Unintentionally locking his neck in a position that might've snapped it if his face wasn't pressed so close and into your spasming hole. Screaming his name as you tear at hair strands a bit too viciously. Wonwoo takes it all in stride, too obsessed with prolonging that delightful peak of yours to care.
Only when your legs loosen up does he back away, pride filling his chest as he takes in your shaking form. Pushing up foggy lenses, he licks his lips slowly. The damp spot shining on his chin and nose is enough of a damning visual — one that's real and touchable, not of your imagination this time — for a tiny tremor to run through your thighs again.
Wonwoo's sore jaw drops. "Baby, did you… did you just cum again?" The cool air away from your cunt clears his vision so he can marvel at the soiled wet patch on your shared blankets. A mumbled curse leaves his mouth.
You're a vision. Strewn across the bed, skin shining with sweat while your disheveled husband is the epitome of sex. He cracks his neck, stretching his jaw.
Thinking.
Contemplating.
"Just from that? Hah, what am I going to do with you?"
"Fuck me," you moan and bring your legs that feel like Jello up to your chest. Squeezing your breasts between your thighs, you pout at him and flutter your lashes. A perfect look for a vixen, pleading yet sultry. "Please."
"Shit… can't tell if you're being bad or good. Augh, the things you do to me."
"'m good, s'good for you. Want you s'bad."
Blabbering, you watch through bleary eyes at the rapid speed he tears off his sweatpants and manage to spread your legs even farther with how numb they feel when he climbs over top of you. Lenses flash in the light at the same time as a foil wrapper before he rips it, hissing in sensitivity to slide the condom on. You're thrilled when the heavy tip of his cock slaps against your prepped pussy, ready for him to lose all rationale. You're sorely disappointed to find out your husband has a pending question for you.
"Then why didn't you greet me when you came home? Hm? Pretty baby sulking in the bathroom 'cause I was gaming with the boys?"
"Ahhh…" you shake your head urgently, nails lightly scratching his biceps, and hips lifting off the bed in a sly effort to slip his dick inside. "No…"
Wonwoo clicks his tongue, halting your movements. "No? I need complete answers, love."
You need him to lose control. Fighting back a sob, you try to shake off your fucked-out state and reply to him properly. "Wanted to shower 'nd then come in no panties, sit… on your lap."
"Yeah? Pretty baby was gonna keep me nice and warm in that snug pussy? Like we always do?"
"Mhm," tears are streaming down your cheeks at this point, "maybe… maybe suck you off."
"Oh, wanted to choke on my cock so all those losers could hear those greedy gags of yours?"
All you can do is nod deliriously because his thick length is hot and hard. Laying outside your lower stomach exactly like it would if it was buried within you.
Wonwoo snarls. "I think the fuck not. Absolutely not. Only I'm allowed to hear your pretty noises. Only me." He huffs, easing the tip inside finally, grunting at how you're already clamping around him like a vice. "You're made for me. All mine. No one else."
The last three syllables are punctuated by experimental, shallow thrusts to open you up for him. Your tongues tangle together as he continues to rock his hips forward, splitting you open until your pelvises kiss.
"That's it, baby. That's the sweet cunt I've been waiting for all day, dreaming of. There it is, shit! Whose pussy does this belong to?"
"Yours… hgnh, all yours… yours, yours yours…!"
"That's right, that's fuckin' right."
His glasses slide down the bridge of his nose but are pushed up by your own nose when you pull him by the neck to shut him up. Barely kissing anymore, it's an open-mouthed entanglement of debauchery. Neither of your moans get any quieter, especially when he rasps in your ear to make as much noise as possible because no one's around to listen.
Wonwoo's thrusts are sharp when he does pull out a little bit. But he doesn't want to leave your warmth for even one moment, mainly grinding as deep as he can into your fluttering hole and stimulating your clit. His hands tug at your nipples, alternating between squishing and squeezing at your tender breasts. Your legs splay compliantly out at the side, letting your husband use you to his content because that's what both of your goals tonight were.
You're shamelessly screaming when his tip touches that bundle of nerves and you're afraid you might actually black out when he continues to hit it with scary precision.
"Gonna… be the death… of me."
Peering at you over his glasses, he smirks at your weak complaint. "Says the one… that's gonna snap off my dick… shit, lovey, stop tightening up so much!"
"Can't help it, feels so good."
"I know, baby," he pants out and kisses your cheek, "I know so just bare with me a bit more." Relief floods him momentarily when your gummy walls loosen their iron grip around his cock. "That's it."
Pulling out of your squelching pussy before you can clamp around him again with only the head wrapped around so prettily by your puffy lips, he has to pause to admire it. Then he slams inside so deep that you can't help but hit that intense climax while he's still stuffing the rest of his length back in.
He coos in his low voice, coaxing you through it with an almost cruel swivel of his hips. "You can give me one more, right? I know you can, you're so good for me."
You really don't know if you could but the minute you lock eyes with him, the feral need and want in them that takes your breath away is enough. It's tinier than all the ones prior but it pleases a fucked out Wonwoo. In seconds, he's spilling his seed into the condom, still nestled within your spasming walls.
"There it is, cream on my cock, love. Yeah, there we go… fuck, baby..." he pants, a telltale sign, "that's it... so perfect."
To say you're exhausted would be an understatement. You might've actually passed out because when you come to, your husband has already wiped you down and pulled the blankets over your naked body. You weren't cold at all before but now that the tidal wave of lust has ebbed away, a chill is settling in. Your cat has snuck into the bedroom too, curled up and purring at the end of the bed on top of the stuffed cockroach plushie.
"Wonwoo?"
"Right here, love." He's laying on top of the covers and wearing his sweats again. His glasses are on the nightstand, head propped up on one hand to stare affectionately at you. "Feel okay?"
"Yeah but I'm glad I'm off for the rest of the week. You fucked the life out of me."
A smug grin graces his face. "Yeah I know. Which is why I don't understand why you just didn't wait to do laundry tomorrow or something."
"Not this again. How old are you?"
"Old enough to know what will prevent me from blowing out your back all the time." He's ready to continue with a good defense but pauses at the smile you're trying to hide. "Wait… did you do that on purpose?" When you don't reply, he groans your name. "You did, didn't you?"
"We all have our little tricks," a finger traces down his exposed pecs, "although I didn't expect such a needy voicemail on my way home, it turned out just as planned."
He halts your wrist when you start journeying down his abs. "Not in front of the child, please."
"I'm too tired to do anything scandalous," you laugh and flip your aching body over to the other side. "Wake me up in a half hour so I can shower. Alone."
"I can't believe I was set up." Disbelief drips from his tone as he sets a timer on his phone but he reaches over you to turn off the light, pressing a kiss to your ear. "Well-played though. You have a lot of free time to make up for your misbehavior, don't you baby?"
"Mhm-hm."
Wonwoo can't see the second victorious smile hidden in the darkness. Really. You're just too smart, knowing your husband so well to get what you want.
Mingyu would be proud. And grossed out.
onlyseokmins: February 2023 ©
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not my fault ➛ 2/2
read part one
✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader
✦ summary: discovering that a cute girl you saw at your college orientation is your roommate, you become eager to get to know her. however, things quickly go awry when she turns out to be much more difficult to get along with than you could've imagined and abruptly leaves you in the dust. fueled by your terrible experiences with her and rumors about her dating habits, you swear to stay away from her at all costs. will you be able to keep your promise?
✦ genre/au: fluff, smut, my poor attempt at a rom-com, college!au, enemies to lovers, (very slight) roommates to lovers
✦ word count: 9.8k (im still embarrassed)
✦ warnings: isn't proofread. MDNI!!!! top!bada, top!reader for 2 seconds, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), bada is a giver, one of my first attempts at smut so please bear with me lmao.
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At this point, the school needed to compensate you for how much time you were spending watching and judging their sports teams. Or, maybe you should be paying rent, with how often you're staying here. The thought alone makes you cringe. Tuition was enough.
Your legs are crossed, and a notebook rests on your lap as you sit in the bleachers, observing the dance team once again. This time, you're not waiting for Lusher. You're here for Bada, who said she could only meet with you after practice today. You're just grateful you're indoors today, and away from volant objects.
It's been a few days since the interview, and you've managed to avoid seeing her in person as much as possible. You've been communicating solely through text, not even bothering to exchange words in class. You know it's childish, but you don’t have the vigor to deal with her head-on. Besides, this way, you can focus on your part of the project, and not Bada's... everything.
You scan the gym floor and pinpoint her. Today, she's wearing a short-sleeved shirt and another pair of cargo pants, driving you to deliberate about how many she owns. If you looked that good in everything, did it matter?
You shake your head, averting your eyes before she notices your staring. You're not even sure what the purpose of your being here is. You probably could've waited to come closer to the end of practice. it was an admittedly nice way to occupy your time while you waited, you assure yourself.
The team is working on a new routine, one that involves a lot of acrobatics. They're running through their routine for the third time. Each time, they seem to get better, their movements more fluid and precise. You watch, fascinated, as Bada twists and turns, her limbs moving in a way that seems almost impossible. She's incredible. She's probably the best dancer on the team, not that you would ever tell her that.
After what feels like an eternity, the music comes to an end, and the team collapses to the ground, panting and sweaty. You're a little out of breath just watching them.
"Good job, guys," Bada says, her voice ringing through the large gym.
"Thanks," someone calls out, her tone laced with exhaustion.
"Let's call it a day," she says.
There's a collective sigh of relief as the team gathers their things and starts to leave. A few people linger, chatting with each other. Bada is one of them, talking to a group of girls. You try not to stare, but it's hard not to notice the way she laughs and smiles around them.
You look away, darting your eyes around the room, when someone catches your eye. Once you realize who it is, your blood runs cold. How did you not notice her before? Probably because of Bada. Damn that woman.
Aiki is on the opposite side of the gym, standing near the door. She's talking to someone and hasn't seemed to notice you yet.
The last thing you need right now is to run into Aiki. That encounter last year was awkward enough. You have no interest in rehashing the whole mess, especially with Bada so nearby.
You snatch your stuff, flying down the bleachers at a speed you did not realize you were capable of. You take the steps two at a time, adrenaline is burning in your veins, nearly tripping over yourself in the process.
You finally reach the bottom, and without a second thought, duck under the bleachers, hiding yourself from view like a criminal hiding from the police.
Your heart is racing, and you lean against a pole, trying to catch your breath. You peek out and see Aiki still hasn't noticed you. She's chatting animatedly with whoever she's talking to and doesn't seem concerned about finding you.
You breathe a sigh of relief, and slide down to the ground. You rest your head against the pole, and close your eyes, willing your heart rate to slow down. This was ridiculous. You needed to exercise more.
"What the hell, y/n?" a familiar voice calls from behind you. You scream, jumping up and banging your head on the metal.
"Ouch," you hiss, rubbing the tender spot.
"What are you doing?" Bada asks, her tone equal parts amusement and annoyance.
"Uh, nothing," you say, trying to hide your embarrassment.
"This is so weird," she states.
"Sorry," you mutter, ducking your head.
"Are you okay?" she asks, her tone softening.
"I'm fine," you say, brushing her off.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," you sigh.
She takes a step towards you. "I can help you. I'm a nurse's aid, remember?" she points out, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
"No, it's fine, I'm okay."
"Okay, well, if you're not gonna tell me what's going on, can you come out from under there, at least?"
"Uh—"
"Y/n?!" Lusher's voice rings out, running up to the bleachers.
"Shit," you whisper. You did not need two witnesses present for this mortifying experience.
"What are you doing?" Lusher says, peering over Bada's shoulder.
"Nothing," you call, trying to sound casual.
"Why are you hiding under the bleachers right now?"
"I'm not," you lie, wincing.
"Y/n," Bada says, shaking her head.
"Shhh," you hush.
"You're ridiculous," she chuckles.
"Both of you, come!" you hiss.
"Is she serious right now?" Lusher whispers to Bada.
"Apparently," she sighs.
"Come on," you say, reaching out and grabbing Bada's wrist.
You pull her towards you, and she stumbles, losing her balance and landing on top of you. The both of you yelp in surprise, and a laugh escapes your mouth. It's surprisingly comfortable. You resist the urge to pull her closer.
"Sorry," Bada apologizes, her face inches from yours.
"It's okay," you say, your breath catching.
You're suddenly aware of the warmth of her body and the closeness of her lips.
"Uh, we should probably get up," she murmurs.
"Right," you say, nodding, but neither of you move.
"Hello?! Are you about to have sex?!" Lusher's annoyed voice snaps you out of your trance.
"No! uh, let's get up. Seriously," you say, gently pushing Bada off.
“Good idea,” she agrees.
Bada stands up, and holds out her hand, helping you up.
"Thanks," you mumble, feeling your face grow hot.
"Y/n, seriously, what is going on?" Lusher demands, her patience wearing thin.
You step toward her, glaring. "When did Aiki join the dance team, huh? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lusher's mouth widens into an 'o'. She sticks her finger up, gearing up to defend herself.
"Um, she didn’t,” Bada cuts in. "She's just helping us choreograph some of our routines."
"Oh," you say.
"She’s really good, so I thought it’d be fun to collaborate with her,” Bada explains.
"So, she's not a member of the dance team," Lusher clarifies, giving you a pointed look.
"Nope," Bada says.
"Oh, well, uh, good," you say, a mixture of confusion and relief swirling within you.
"So, why are you asking about Aiki?" Bada asks, rubbing the back of her neck.
"She's my ex."
"What?" Bada's mouth drops.
"Yeah,” you admit, woefully.
"Really?"
"It's a long story," you sigh.
"Huh," Bada says, looking stunned.
"So, that's why you were hiding under the bleachers?" Lusher inquires.
"Yeah. I didn't feel like talking to her."
Bada still looks dumbfounded. She's staring at you, and it's starting to make you nervous.
"Well, that’s silly! But I'm glad you're not in danger, or whatever," Lusher says.
"No. I was,” you deadpan.
Lusher snorts and shakes her head. "Anyway, I know you're here for Bada. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll leave you guys be," she says, wiggling her eyebrows, out of Bada's sight.
You hiss at her, imagining strangulation.
"Bye, Bada. Bye, y/n. I'll see you at home," she calls, sauntering away.
You shoot her a middle finger.
"Bye," Bada says with a small wave.
She turns to face you, and she stares at you, hard, her eyes unreadable. Your stomach churns with anxiety.
"Nothing," she says, a small smile forming on her face.
"What are you smiling at?"
"I just didn't know that Aiki was your ex-girlfriend."
"There's a lot you don't know about me," you retort.
"True," she says, the smile never leaving her face.
"Anyway, can we get going now? We have work to do," you say, trying to get the conversation back on track.
"Right," she says. "Lead the way."
You walk side by side, the silence between you thick and uncomfortable.
"So," she starts, clearing her throat. "I was thinking...would you mind stopping somewhere and getting something to eat?"
You stop walking.
"Why? Are you hungry?" you ask, suspicious.
"Yeah, a little," she says, rubbing her stomach.
"What are you craving?"
"Anything is fine," she says, a little too quickly.
"Bada, just tell me," you groan, annoyed.
"Okay, fine. I've been wanting to try this new Korean BBQ place that opened a few blocks away."
You bite the inside of your cheek. Of course, she wants to go to a restaurant. You're not sure why you were expecting anything else.
"Um, I guess we could do that," you say, hesitantly.
"Great!"
You follow her as she leads you out of the gym and into the bright, warm afternoon sun.
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You find yourself sitting in the booth across from Bada, staring at a plate of food.
"What's wrong?" Bada asks, noticing your apprehension.
"Nothing," you reply, forcing a smile.
"Okay," she says, not sounding convinced.
You pick up a piece of meat and put it on your plate. The smell is amazing, and your mouth waters.
"Are you going to eat?" Bada asks, gesturing towards your untouched food.
"Yeah," you reply, picking up a piece and bringing it to your lips.
"So, um, how have you been?" she asks, breaking the silence.
"Fine," you say, taking a bite.
"That's good."
"Yeah," you say, chewing.
"And, uh, how's your part of project going?"
"It's going," you respond, swallowing.
"Cool."
"Mhm," you hum, not bothering to elaborate.
You hear a sigh. "Do you always have to be like this?" she asks, exasperated.
You huff. "Like what?"
"Cold. Distant," she says.
"Excuse me?" you snap.
"You're always so closed off. It's frustrating."
You drop your chopsticks. "Are you messing with me right now? You're the one that's been standoffish since I've met you. And what was with that whole moving out situation that you still haven't given me an explanation for, by the way?"
Her face softens. "Look, I'm sorry about all that. I was just...going through something."
"What were you going through?"
She averts her gaze, and fidgets with her chopsticks.
"Hey, it's okay, you don't have to tell me," you say, feeling bad for pushing her.
She bites her lip, and your eyes are drawn to the movement.
"I don't mind telling you, but can it wait until later? I don't know if it's the right time."
You nod, and return to eating, a little more at ease than before.
"So, you and Aiki?" she says, after a beat.
You freeze. You were hoping that she had forgotten about that.
"Yep," you say, your voice tight.
"How did it happen?"
You shrug. "It was just a short high school fling. But, you know, first lesbian heartbreak and all."
She snorts. "I get that."
"Really?" you respond, leaning forward. You're too nosy to pass up on this.
"Yeah," she says, a little sheepish.
"Who was it? Do I know them?"
"I'm not telling you."
"Is it Doyeon?" you guess, grinning.
Bada nearly chokes on her food. "What?! No. She's just...no," she sputters.
"Tatter?"
Bada squeals, shoving her head in her hands. "Ew, no! She's like a sister to me."
"Hm," you say, tapping your chin.
She glares at you. "It's none of your business."
You shrug. "I'm just surprised, that's all," you say, nonchalant.
"Why?"
"Well," you begin, resting your elbows on the table. "You're like, a total heartthrob. Everyone's crazy about you."
She lets out a bark of laughter. "No, I'm not," she says, dismissive.
"You are," you insist. "Do you know the vile things I've heard women say about you? I'm surprised you don't need bodyguards. You have literal fangirls."
She rolls her eyes. "Okay, maybe a few girls like me. But, they're not crazy."
"I beg to differ."
"Whatever," she laughs.
"All I'm saying is that I'm surprised you've gotten your heartbroken by women before. It seems like you'd be able to get any girl you wanted, and keep them."
Her face grows solemn. "It doesn't always work like that," she says.
You're taken aback. Her eyes are a storm, dark and intense.
"I guess you're right," you agree, trying to break the tension.
She clears her throat. "Let's just eat."
You're confused, and a little worried, but you're also starving.
"Right," you say.
The rest of the meal is silent, the two of you not making eye contact.
After a few minutes, she finally speaks up.
"Are you ready to go?"
"Yes," you reply, grateful to be leaving.
"Let's get going, then," she says, grabbing her card.
You slide your backpack across the seat, toward your body. "I'll pay," you offer, pulling your wallet out.
"No, it's fine," she insists, reaching across the table and swatting your hand away.
"Bada," you warn, a little annoyed.
"It's just one meal, and I asked you to come here with me. It's only fair that I pay."
You open your mouth to protest, but the look on her face stops you.
"Fine," you grumble, shoving your wallet inside your bag.
"Thank you," she says, giving you a small smile.
She gets up, and heads for the door. You follow her lead, getting up from the table, uneasiness settling in your stomach.
The two of you make your way to the cash register, where the hostess greets her enthusiastically. She hands her the bill, and Bada hands her the credit card, and the hostess takes it, grazing Bada's hand with a coy smile. You glance at one of the tables nearby, contemplating how much of a hassle it'd be to gouge your eyes out with chopsticks. You decide against it, knowing that you'd probably be banned from this delicious restaurant and would never be able to return. You sigh, depressed, and when you focus on Bada again, you're caught off guard by what you witness. Bada thanks the hostess and turns to leave, not bothering to wait for the receipt. The hostess frowns and calls out a goodbye, which is met with Bada's disinterested wave. You trail behind her, raising an eyebrow at her, and she ignores your questioning look.
Rather, Bada grabs your wrist and guides you outside. You try not to notice the way her palm feels against yours. Yet, you are unable to suppress the smirk that emerges on your face.
Once you're outside, she drops her hand, and you're reminded of the discomfort that occurred in the restaurant.
You squint. The sun has started to set, casting a glow over the city. The streets are crowded, the hustle and bustle of people passing by.
"Give me your bag," Bada demands, holding out her hand.
You gape at her, then clutch your backpack, surveying your surroundings for any law enforcement. "Sorry, what?"
"Your bag. Give it to me." she repeats, her hand still extended.
"Are you trying to rob me?" you ask, baffled.
"What? No. Why would I do that?" she clarifies, incredulous. "I'm walking you home, and we have a long way to go. Your bag is gonna get heavy. So, give it to me." she explains, wiggling her fingers.
"Oh," you say, feeling foolish. You loosen your grip on your bag. "No need for that! I can take care of myself."
She gives you an impatient look. "Do you have to argue with me about everything? Just let me walk with you, please."
"Fine," you relent, sliding the backpack off your shoulder and handing it to her.
"Thank you," she sighs.
She takes a step closer to you, and to your surprise, laces her free arm through yours.
"Lead the way," she instructs, motioning ahead.
You stare at the place where your arms are interlocked. "What are you doing?" you question, alarmed.
"What does it look like? I'm walking with you."
"Uh, I guess," you say, your heart racing.
"Ready?"
"Sure" you mutter, defeated.
"Let's go."
You begin walking, your arms intertwined. Your pulse is erratic, and the closeness of her is sending heat waves throughout your body. You're sure she can feel the beating of your heart.
You walk in silence, the sounds of the city filling the air.
"I'm sorry if I got a little weird back there," Bada says, breaking the silence.
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. I didn't mean to make things awkward. I just...get a little sensitive when it comes to talking about my love life."
"Really?"
"Yeah," she admits, sighing.
"Well, that's understandable. It's hard talking about failed relationships."
"Exactly," she says, turning to look at you. "But, thank you for understanding."
You feel the weight of her stare, and a blush rises to your cheeks. What was going on with you right now?
"Don't mention it."
"Y/n," she says, her voice low.
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for going to dinner with me."
"Of course," you say, your words caught in your throat.
"I had a really good time."
You can't think of a response, her brown eyes drawing you in.
"Me too," you manage.
Her mouth curves into a grin.
"Can I do something?" she whispers.
"Um, yeah, sure."
She leans in, and adjusts a strand of hair that's fallen onto your face. Your breathing quickens. You didn't even realize that a strand was in front of your face. Her eyes are locked onto yours, and her hand lingers on the side of your face.
"Better," she says, her face centimeters away from yours.
You swallow. "I- uh- thank you."
She pulls away, and a sense of disappointment settles within you.
"It was nothing," she says, her eyes twinkling.
"Okay," you reply, unable to form a coherent sentence.
You're both silent again, and the rest of the walk passes in a blur. Before you know it, you're at your doorstep.
"This is it," you say, turning to her.
"This is your apartment?"
"Yep," you confirm, reaching into your pocket for your keys.
"Alright, cool," she says, tossing you your backpack.
You catch it, the straps hitting you in the face. Please stop this madness, you think. At least you caught it. Maybe there's still hope for you.
"Thank you," you say, slinging it onto your back.
"Of course," she flashes you a bright smile, and your heart skips a beat. “I had a great time.”
“Me too,” you confess, your palms sweaty. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," she echoes, her voice soft.
You're not sure what else to say, so you give her a small wave and head for the door.
"Goodnight, y/n," she calls gently, as you reach for the handle. You turn to look at her, and her eyes are shining, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
"Goodnight, Bada," you respond, giving her a smile.
She nods, and with one final glance, she turns and walks away. You watch her retreating figure, and let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding.
"What the hell was that?" you whisper, your head spinning.
You enter your apartment. It's dark. Lusher must not be home, which makes you want to cry. You wanted to talk to her about today. You throw yourself onto the couch. You replay the evening's events in your head, and as you do, you feel an incoming headache.
You sigh, and close your eyes. Tonight was weird. Really, really weird.
Your phone buzzes, and you grab it from the coffee table. You have one new message.
You unlock your phone, and check the message. It's from Bada.
Bada: hey, did you get inside your apartment alright?
Y/N: yes
Bada: good. i was just making sure.
Y/N: thanks.
Bada: no problem. :)
You stare at the screen, and quickly type out a response.
Y/N: thanks for tonight. i had a really great time.
Bada: me too.
Bada: we should do it again sometime!
Bada: I mean, other than our meet-ups for the project.
This is when you remember for the first time since the end of dinner that the two of you are doing a project together. That was the original reason for meeting.
You: yeah, definitely.
Bada: awesome!
Bada: sweet dreams <3
Y/N: night.
You throw your phone down. Your head is reeling. As you lay there, the sound of your heartbeat in your ears, the memory of her fingers brushing your cheek plays in your mind. The warmth of her touch. The softness. And her eyes. Her eyes.
You let out a sigh, and rub your temples.
"Get a hold of yourself," you mumble.
But, no matter how much you try, you can't stop the butterflies in your stomach, or the warmth in your chest. Something shifted today. Maybe it shifted from the moment you began working on this project together. With every meeting, Bada proved to you that she's not the stuck-up, self-centered person you thought she was. No. She's smart. And she's kind. So, so kind. Gentle. Talented. Nothing aligned with the image of her that you created in your head.
As much as you've tried to push these feelings away, deny them, repress them, they keep coming back. And with the way she's acting, the way she's been treating you, it feels like she may feel the same. But, what if you're wrong?
The thought scares you. If she didn't reciprocate, the embarrassment would be insurmountable. It would ruin everything. Your seemingly newfound friendship. The project. Regardless of how great tonight was, you cannot help but think back to that day in the locker rooms, and how dismayed she sounded at the thought of asking you out. Even if her feelings have shifted and she finds you attractive now, what if that's all that it is? Attraction. Lust. The thought of it makes you nauseous. You're not sure you could survive her using you and then discarding you, like some kind of toy, like the other ones.
No, it's better to remain friends. Just friends. Besides, you're sure that these feelings will dissipate soon. They have to. Right? Maybe you'd just steer clear of her for a little while to be safe. It'll give her the space she needs to forget about this, and give you the time to bury these stupid feelings.
You decide to text her.
Y/N: hey, i'm really tired. can we reschedule tomorrow's study session for next week?
She replies almost immediately.
Bada: yeah, no problem. are you okay?
Y/N: yes
Y/N: just had a long day.
Bada: alright, take care.
Y/N: will do.
Bada: oh, and one more thing.
Y/N: ?
Bada: thank you again.
Bada: i mean it.
Bada: and i'm glad that we're friends.
Your stomach flutters. Friends. Yes. This is exactly what you need.
Bada: goodnight.
Y/N: sweet dreams.
You toss your phone onto the couch, and get up. You're exhausted. Physically. Emotionally. You need to get to bed. You trudge to the bathroom, and wash up. Then, you change, and climb into bed. As you drift off to sleep, a million thoughts are swirling through your mind. But, the one that lingers is the image of her eyes, warm and bright, staring at you.
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You're lying in bed, your laptop open, the blue light washing over you. The room is silent, save for the sounds of your keyboard, the tapping of keys. It's late. Really late. But, you can't sleep. Every time you close your eyes, you see her. Those brown, inviting eyes.
You groan and sit up. You need a distraction. You can't use your phone, because you'd have to face the dozens of unread texts from Bada that have been collecting dust for the past couple weeks. You haven't talked to her at all since that night, even going as far as to skip the class that you have with her. It seems like she's given up trying to reach you, as today is the first day you've gone without a message from her. Thank God.
You pull your laptop onto your lap, and open a random YouTube video.
It's a funny skit. A couple. They're arguing. About something mundane, trivial. You find yourself laughing. For a moment, you forget about her. But, the feeling doesn't last. Because, after the skit is over, the next video starts.
It's a music video. Two women. They're singing. It's a love song. You can't focus on the lyrics, the images, the sound. All you can see is her. Those eyes.
You slam the laptop shut and throw it onto the bed.
"Dammit," you mutter.
You can't think straight. Everything is clouded by her. By Bada. You're losing your mind. You need air.
You stand and walk to the window. You look outside. It's quiet. There are few cars, no people. Just the lights, casting their glow upon the buildings.
You rest your head against the window, and sigh. You've never felt this way before. It's maddening. Infuriating. But, you can't help it.
You hear your door open, and Lusher steps into the room.
"Hey," she greets.
"Hi."
"What are you doing up?"
"Couldn't sleep," you reply, not turning around.
Lusher leans against the wall, studying you. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Y/n," she sighs, "You know that you can tell me anything."
"I know."
"So, what's going on?"
"I don't know," you shrug.
She walks towards you and stands beside you.
"Come on," she insists, "Tell me."
"It's stupid," you grumble, shaking your head.
"I'll be the judge of that."
"Fine," you relent.
"Let's hear it," she presses.
"Well," you start, "It's about Bada."
Lusher smirks. "I knew it."
"You knew what?"
"That you had a crush on her."
"Wait, what?" you splutter, turning to face her.
"You're so obvious," she accuses, crossing her arms.
"No, I'm not!"
"Oh, please," she laughs, "Even when you claimed to hate her it was written all over your face. I mean, why else would you be so upset over your roommate of one day leaving you? Because you had a humongous crush on her and got embarrassed when she seemingly rejected you!"
"That's not it at all," you retort. "It was the principle! I mean, filing a complaint against me is crazy."
"Y/n," she says, gently. "You have a crush. It's normal."
"Yeah, well, I'm not sure if the feelings are reciprocated."
"You know, the day that you guys got paired up for that project, she sent me a text asking me what kind of coffee you liked. We'd never even texted before that," she reveals.
You blink in disbelief. "What?"
"Yeah," she chuckles. "Apparently, she was trying to get on your good side and impress you."
"Wow," you mumble.
"But, I guess I ruined it for her," she jokes.
"Why'd you tell her about the coffee?"
"Because, I'm your friend. And I could tell that you liked her. A lot."
"I don't know," you say, shaking your head. "Maybe it doesn't mean anything. She's a flirt, and she's nice to everyone."
"You're not wrong. But, y/n, you gotta trust your instincts. If you feel something, go for it."
"Maybe," you respond, not sure if you're convinced.
"Just don't sit here and dwell on it," she says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.
"Can we get out of here?" you ask, still wanting a distraction.
"Sure. Where to?"
"Anywhere. The library. A bar. A club. Just, not here."
"Alright," she says, grinning. "Let's go."
–
Lusher brings you to a house party. You're not in the mood, but she manages to convince you to come. After a couple of drinks, you're feeling a bit more relaxed. The music is loud, and the crowd is rowdy, but you don't mind. It's a welcome distraction from your thoughts.
"There she is," Lusher shouts, pointing to a familiar figure.
It's Bada. Her hair is tied into a ponytail, and she’s wearing a short-sleeved patterned button-down shirt, black baggy pants. She looks good, as always. She's dancing with a group of friends. There are a couple women standing suspiciously close to her, giving her heart eyes.
"Do you want to say hi?" Lusher asks, nudging you.
"No," you yell over the noise, "She looks like she's having fun. We should leave her alone."
She gives you a pitiful look and sighs. "If you say so."
You take another sip of your drink. You watch her as she dances, her hips swaying, her arms above her head. She looks happy. Carefree. You can't help but admire her, even now, in this house full of people. She's beautiful. Ethereal. The way the light catches her hair, her skin. She's captivating.
"Excuse me," a voice interrupts your train of thought.
You turn around. It's Aiki.
It's settled. Someone has invoked a curse on you, and you're doomed to suffer incessant encounters with unattainable women who have broken your heart until the end of time.
"Hey, Aiki," you greet, attempting to hide your discomfort.
"Hey," she responds, her gaze flickering to Lusher. "And who's this?"
"I'm Lusher, y/n's best friend. We went to school together. I'm also on the dance team."
"Oh, right! The famous Lusher," she exclaims, offering her hand. "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."
"Same," she nods, taking her hand.
Aiki's attention returns to you. "Y/n, I didn't expect to see you here," she notes, sipping her beer.
"Yeah, well, here I am," you laugh awkwardly.
"You should come dance with us," she invites, motioning towards the crowd.
"No, thanks. I'm not much of a dancer."
"Really? You looked pretty good when we danced together," she comments, smiling.
You laugh. "Trust me, that was a one-time thing."
"Aw, come on. I'd love to see you dance again," she insists.
"No, really. It's not happening," you say, holding up your hands.
"Oh, c'mon. Just one dance," she begs, taking a step closer.
You mull this over, tapping your fingers against your cup. "Well, maybe just one."
"Yes!" she cheers, grabbing your hand.
You glance at Lusher, who offers an encouraging thumbs-up.
Aiki leads you to the dance floor, and the two of you join the throng of sweaty bodies. She begins to dance, her hips gyrating, her arms raised above her head.
"C'mon," she urges, "Join me."
You hesitate, not wanting to embarrass yourself, but her enthusiasm is infectious.
You begin to move, swaying your hips to the beat.
She steps closer, her hand finding its way to your waist. "That's it," she praises, her voice low and seductive.
Your pulse quickens. You can't help but be reminded of the last time the two of you were this close, the night when she asked you out.
Her grip on your waist tightens, pulling you closer. Your breath hitches, and your eyes lock.
"Y/n," she whispers, her lips inches from yours.
Your heart hammers in your chest. You feel her fingers trailing along your side, her body pressed against yours. The music drowns out all rational thought. All that matters is her, the heat of her touch, the sound of her voice. Her breath is warm against your cheek. Her hand caresses your neck, drawing you closer. Your eyes flutter closed, and—
A heavy weight comes crashing into the two of you, sending the both of you stumbling backward.
"Watch it," you snap, looking over to see the culprit.
And it's Bada, of course.
She's holding a red cup, staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression.
"Sorry," she mutters, taking a step back.
You glance at Aiki, who looks like she's bordering on being concussed, and then settle your gaze back on Bada.
"Bada? Where the hell did you come from?" you question, rubbing your forehead.
Her jaw clenches. "Nowhere."
You let out a short, dry, disbelieving snort. “That explains a bunch.”
"Sorry," she repeats. "I tripped."
"Right," you say, not believing her.
"Where have you been?" she asks, taking a small sip of her drink. You study her face, noticing the pink flush on her cheeks. You'd assume it was the alcohol, but she doesn't seem drunk.
"Around," you answer, crossing your arms.
"Well, I didn't see you at class," she points out, taking another sip.
"I was busy," you lie, not wanting to give her the satisfaction.
"So busy you couldn't even give me a heads up?"
"Yup," you reply, popping the p.
"What about our project?"
"Is that all you care about?" you retaliate.
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, sucking in a breath. "No, but-"
"Um," Aiki pipes up, lifting herself off of the floor. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No!" you say.
"Yes," Bada responds at the same time, venom laced through her voice.
"Bada," you growl, glaring at her. "Stop."
"Well, are you not done?"
"Done with what?"
"Her," she spits.
"Alright, well," Aiki interjects, holding up her hands. "I'm done! I'm gonna head out, Y/N. I'll catch you later...or not." Aiki says, fast-walking away with a limp.
"Bada," you whisper, anger bubbling up in your throat.
"What?" she says, her gaze piercing.
"Are you kidding me?"
"What, did I ruin your date?"
"Date?" you scoff, shaking your head. "That wasn't a date."
"Uh-huh, right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Me?" she scoffs, stepping forward.
"Yes, you!"
"You're the one who's being difficult here, y/n. Not me." she retorts, setting her drink down on a nearby table.
"How am I being difficult? All I've done is try and do the project. I've put up with all your shit."
"Forget about the stupid project! This is about us."
"There is no us," you shout, jabbing your finger into her chest.
"I know you don't mean that."
"You're unbelievable," you grumble, pushing past her, up the stairs.
"Don't walk away from me," she demands, chasing after you.
"Leave me alone, Bada."
"No," she protests, reaching for your wrist.
You stop, turning around. "I told you to stop," you yell, shoving her away.
"I'm not going anywhere," she warns, her eyes narrowed.
"God," you groan, massaging your temples. "You're impossible."
"And you're being a coward," she snaps.
"Coward?"
"You're avoiding me," she states, her voice steady and calm.
"Maybe I am," you fire back.
"Why?"
"Because, you're exhausting," you explain, throwing your hands up.
"Exhausting," she echoes.
"Yes, exhausting," you affirm. "I can't stand you, Bada. You're arrogant and conceited and-"
"You want me," she interjects, her voice barely above a whisper.
"W-what?"
"You. Want. Me," she repeats, each word slow and deliberate.
"I-I..." you stammer, rendered mute. You were not prepared for this level of confrontation. This is not how you expected tonight to go in the slightest. You couldn't tell Bada you wanted her, even if you did. And, now, you know you do. More than anything. You've been wanting her for so long. But it's not like she wants you back in the same way.
"Tell me that I'm wrong."
"Bada, I—"
"Tell me that I'm wrong, and I'll never bring it up again."
You open your mouth to speak, but the words die on your tongue.
"See," she laughs, though there's no humor behind it.
"Shut up," you murmur, massaging your forehead.
"No," she defies, stepping closer.
"You're so annoying," you complain, turning around.
She follows you. "Where are you going?"
"I don't know," you answer truthfully, stomping further up the staircase.
"Y/n," she pleads, grabbing your arm. "Just tell me that I'm wrong."
"Bada, let it go."
"Tell me," she begs.
You turn around, infuriated, your veins pulsating. "What is the point of this? Do you just want me to tell you that I want you so that you can feel good about yourself?"
"The point of it is that I like you, y/n! I really, really, like you. And you keep pushing me away! Why?" She exclaims, throwing her hands up.
You can feel the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you're too angry to care. Bada's confession should give you some solace, but it only makes the ache in your chest stronger. You need to get out of here. Get away from her. You can't deal with this anymore. You can't take it. She's too much. She doesn't understand. She doesn't know how badly it'd wound you if things didn't work out. If she ended up hurting you. Or worse, forgetting about you.
"Because," you pinch the bridge of your nose, exhaling, attempting to calm yourself down. “I don't want to get hurt."
“Y/n," she says gently, stepping forward.
"Don't," you warn.
"I would never hurt you," she reassures, her hand cupping your cheek.
You stare into her eyes, searching for any trace of dishonesty, but find none.
"I would never intentionally hurt you," she corrects, a sad smile on her face.
"Bada," you mumble, her hand warm on your skin.
"I know you're scared," she continues, her voice soft and soothing. "But I promise, I'll take care of you."
"Bada, you don't understand," you argue, stepping back.
"Then help me understand."
"I..." you trail off, unsure of how to continue. "I like you. I like you a lot. But I just cant stop thinking about that whole roommate situation. And...I heard you say something in the locker rooms one day when I was visiting Lusher."
Her eyebrows furrow. "What'd you hear?"
"You said that you didn't want to me. At all," you explain, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.
"Oh, y/n," she sighs. "That's not true."
"What?"
"I've liked you for a long time. Probably since I first saw you. That's actually why I switched rooms. I didn't think you'd be into me, and I was afraid of rejection, so I ran away," she confesses, her gaze cast downward.
"Bada," you breathe, shocked.
"But I'm done being scared. And I'm tired of running," she declares, looking back up.
"What does that mean?"
"It means that I'm not going anywhere," she promises, taking your hands.
"Bada, are you sure? This is a lot."
"I've never been more sure about anything," she states, her tone firm. "But are you going to stop running too?"
"Bada, I—"
"Please, y/n. Take a chance on me." she requests, squeezing your hands.
Was the risk worth it? Were you willing to put your heart on the line? Would she keep her promise and not break your heart? The questions flood your mind, threatening to overwhelm you. But, when you look into her eyes, the answer is a clear yes. Because, really, now that everything was on the table, when did she ever give you reason to doubt her? When did she not deliver? Maybe it was time for you to have some faith in her, just like she has faith in you, right now.
You exhale. "Okay," you relent.
"You will?"
"Yes,” you nod, vigorously. “Let’s give this a try."
"Yay!" she exclaims, pulling you into a hug. You laugh, wrapping your arms around her waist.
"I'm sorry I've been such a jerk. I felt so awkward and shy around you, I didn't know what to do" she apologizes, burying her face in the crook of your neck.
"It's okay," you say, running your hands along her back.
She removes herself from the embrace, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. She studies your face, her eyes roaming over your features.
"Can I kiss you?" she questions, her thumb caressing your cheek.
"I guess so," you shrug, feigning nonchalance with a sly smile on your face. Deep down, you've been waiting for this moment since the day the two of you met. You've dreamed about what it would feel like, how her lips would taste. You've thought about it while lying awake in bed at night, while doing homework. It's a constant, nagging thought. Her face draws closer to yours, and your eyelids flutter closed. You feel her breath fan across your lips. Your heart beats rapidly. Then, finally, her lips meet yours, and everything else fades away. It's like nothing you've ever experienced before. It's tender and passionate, sweet and perfect. You wrap your arms around her neck, deepening the kiss. As she holds you in her arms, your fears disappear, and a new feeling takes their place. A feeling of warmth, safety, happiness—more than that. When you part, the both of you are breathing heavily. Her eyes are wide, filled with wonder. You're sure your expression mirrors hers. Neither of you say a word. Instead, you just stand there, drinking in each other's presence. You're not sure how long you stay like that.
Eventually, she lets out a soft chuckle, breaking the silence. "Was that okay?" she asks, biting her lip.
"Yes," you confirm. "More than okay."
"Good," she beams, pecking your lips. "Want to go back downstairs?" she offers.
"Actually, can we go to my place? Lusher will be gone," You suggest, hoping she catches the hint. You can't help but glance at her lips. You're eager to have her all to yourself. To be alone with her. To do whatever the two of you want. If the blush creeping up her cheeks is any indication, she knows exactly what you're insinuating. She nods, and the two of you descend the stairs, hands intertwined. She stops to grab her jacket, and once the two of you make it outside, the crisp, night air hits you. It's cool, and refreshing. As the two of you begin your walk to the apartment, she leans in, her shoulder brushing against yours. The contact sends a shiver down your spine. You can't believe how close the two of you are. How intimate it feels. It's a welcome change from the distance you've forced upon the two of you for the past few weeks. A small part of you is afraid. But a larger, stronger part of you is excited. Excited to explore this newfound intimacy, and whatever may lie ahead. And for the first time in a while, you feel genuine hope.
"Here," she offers, draping her jacket over your shoulders.
"Thank you," you murmur, wrapping it around yourself.
The two of you hop in Bada's car, the engine purring to life.
"You cold?" she asks, turning the heater on.
"Yeah, a little," you admit, rubbing your hands together.
"Here," she offers, taking your hands in hers. You look down, watching as she runs her thumbs over your knuckles. "Better?"
"You're cheesy," you tease, rolling your eyes. Though secretly, her touch does make you feel warmer. Better. It makes your heart swell with affection, and the corners of your mouth turn up. It's like her presence is melting the ice surrounding your heart.
"I like cheesy," she counters, grinning.
"I'm lactose intolerant," you retort.
"Oh, no," she pouts, feigning concern. "Guess I'll have to come up with some other way to make you happy."
"I can think of a few things," you flirt, giving her a coy smile.
She just smiles, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence. After what feels like an eternity, the two of you pull up, and Bada turns the car off. She hops out, making her way to the passenger side door, opens it, and extends her hand. You take it, and allow her to lead the way. The two of you climb the steps to the apartment, tension growing thick. Once you reach the front door, she lets go of your hand. You immediately miss the contact, and your heart rate picks up. You unlock the door, and step inside. She follows behind you, closing the door and locking it for you.
"It's freezing," Bada says.
"Yeah, sorry," you say, closing the door. "The heating's broken. It should be fixed by tomorrow, though."
"It's fine," she assures, wrapping her arms around you from behind.
You lean back, savoring her warmth. You've fantasized about this more than you'd like to admit.
"Bedroom?" she whispers, kissing your temple.
You nod, tugging her through the apartment and into your bedroom. Bada shuts the door, and you turn to her, staring into her eyes.
"Hi," you whisper, placing a hand on her chest.
"Hi," she whispers back, placing her hand over yours.
You lean in, brushing your lips against hers. She reciprocates, capturing your lips with hers. Her hands slide down to your hips, pulling you closer.
You tilt your head, deepening the kiss. Your hands move to her hair, tugging lightly.
She moans into your mouth, her grip tightening on your hips.
You pull back, gazing into her eyes.
"You're so pretty," she murmers, her thumbs rubbing circles into your hips.
"So are you," you counter, smiling.
She leans in, pressing her forehead to yours. The two of you stay like that for a moment, drinking each other in. Finally, you pull back, grabbing her hand. You shove her onto the bed, and then fall on top of her, your legs straddling her hips.
"Hey," she giggles, wrapping her arms around your waist.
"Hey," you reply, a smile on your face.
"You're so annoying," she says, leaning in.
"And yet, you're here," you point out.
She ignores this, deciding to press a kiss to your lips, her fingers moving up your back. You sigh into her mouth, your body relaxing against hers. She slides her tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you. Her hands move to your ass, squeezing. You roll your hips, grinding against her. She groans, her grip on your ass tightening. She sits up, her lips never leaving yours. She scoots back on the bed, her legs spread, and you sit between them, still straddling her.
"You're such a tease," she says, her voice husky.
"Oh, yeah?" you ask, smirking. "How's this for a tease?"
You slip your hand under her shirt, tracing circles on her stomach, her abs. You can tell she's not wearing a bra.
"I don't know," she sighs, her head falling back. "Keep going, and we'll see."
You lean down, peppering kisses along her jawline. She tilts her head, giving you better access. You suck on her pulse point, her breath hitching.
You move lower, kissing and sucking her neck.
She groans, her hand tangling in her hair. You smirk at this, trailing kisses down her chest. You unbutton her shirt, exposing her breasts. You take a nipple into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the stiff peak. She lets out a string of curses, her grip on your hair tightening. You give her other nipple the same attention, relishing the noises coming from her. You trail your hands down her sides, settling on her thighs.
You're about to give her a command when, suddenly, she stops you, pushing your head away.
Before you can protest, she grips onto your waist and flips you over. You let out a squeak of surprise.
She stares down at you, a smug grin on her face.
"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice breathy.
"What am I doing?" she repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I'm getting revenge."
"Revenge?"
"Yeah," she replies, her hand snaking its way up your shirt. "For teasing me."
"How do you plan on doing that?"
She pauses, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "I think I'm going to start with..."
She trails off, her gaze focused on your pants.
"What are you—" you're cut off by her hand moving to the button of your pants, undoing it.
She slides the zipper down, revealing the lace of your underwear.
"Nice," she murmurs, a grin on her face.
You're about to reply, when she moves her hand beneath the fabric, cupping you.
"Oh," you breathe, your hips bucking into her touch.
She begins rubbing slow circles on your clit, causing you to writhe underneath her.
"You're so wet," she states, her fingers picking up speed.
"All for you," you manage to get out, your breath ragged.
"That's what I like to hear," she says, slipping a finger inside you.
"Oh, fuck," you moan, your back arching.
She adds another, long, finger, stretching you.
"You're so tight," she marvels, pumping her fingers in and out.
You moan, grinding against her hand. She curls her fingers, hitting that sweet spot inside you.
"F-fuck," you curse, your walls clenching around her digits.
"Such a dirty mouth," she scolds, adding a third finger. She moves her mouth to your neck, her teeth scraping against the sensitive skin.
You pant, your toes curling as her pace increases. She hums in response, her fingers curling inside you, her thumb pressing against your clit.
"Fuck, Bada," you moan, gripping onto her wrist.
"You close, baby?" she asks, her breath hot against your neck.
"Y-yeah," you stammer, your hips meeting the movements of her fingers.
"Gonna cum," you mumble, your vision blurry.
"Mm-hmm," she nods, her gaze intense.
"Fuck," you cry out, and as your climax approaches, she removes her hand, leaving you frustrated and empty.
"Bada," you gasp, panting. "What the fuck?"
"I'm not finished with you," she states, a mischievous grin on her face.
"I wasn't either," you pout.
"We'll see about that," she teases, her hands moving to the hem of your shirt. She pulls it over your head, tossing it to the floor.
She gazes down at you, a hungry look in her eyes.
"Take those off," she orders, gesturing to your pants.
You oblige, sliding the rest of garment off and kicking it to the side.
"Good," she praises, a smirk on her face.
She stands, removing her shirt, pants, and boxers, her toned body exposed. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of her. She crawls on top of you, her body hovering over yours. She kneels in front of you, her fingers ghosting over your skin.
"So, you gonna finish what you started?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"I don't know," she says, a glint in her eye. "I might."
She kisses you, her lips soft and pliant. You part your lips, allowing her tongue to slip into your mouth.
"Bada," you groan, tangling a hand in her hair.
"What is it, baby?" she murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip.
"Need you," you whisper, your hips bucking into hers.
"What do you need?" she breathes, her hand ghosting down your torso.
"Your fingers, your mouth, everything," you reply, a whimper escaping your throat.
"Everything, huh?" she teases, her fingers dipping beneath the hem of your underwear.
"Fuck, please," you beg, arching your back.
"Since you asked so nicely," she replies, her voice dripping with desire.
She ducks her head, her lips trailing kisses down your chest, her hands pushing your underwear down. You kick the last bit of fabric off, leaving you bare before her.
"Beautiful," she murmurs, her fingers circling your clit.
"Ah, fuck," you moan, your hands gripping the sheets.
She sucks on your inner thigh, her tongue tracing patterns on your skin, her fingers never stopping their ministrations. She spreads your legs, her hands pushing your knees up, exposing your wet, aching center. She exhales, her gaze hungry. She places an open-mouthed kiss to your slit, her tongue lapping up your juices. You keen, your hands finding her hair.
"More," you plead, your hips canting.
"Whatever you want," she promises, her fingers digging into your flesh.
She dives in, her tongue flicking across your clit, her nose brushing against the sensitive nub. You cry out, your body writhing beneath her. She wraps her lips around your clit, sucking hard. Your toes curl, and a low, guttural moan escapes your throat. She hums in response, her eyes boring into yours. She presses a finger to your entrance, her tongue continuing its assault on your clit.
"Please," you rasp, your breathing ragged.
She enters you, her digit pumping in and out.
"F-fuck," you swear, your head rolling back.
She adds a second finger, her tongue swirling around your clit.
"Bada, I'm close," you warn, your walls tightening.
She hums, her fingers curling inside you, her mouth closing over your clit, sucking hard, and you chant, your hands tangled in her hair.
Your climax crashes into you, and you cry out, stars exploding behind your eyelids. She works you through it, her fingers coaxing every last drop of pleasure from you.
You pant, your body trembling. She smirks, pulling her fingers out of you.
"Tired already?" she teases, wrapping her arms around you.
She grins, capturing your lips with hers, and you can taste yourself on her tongue. You melt into the kiss, your arms encircling her.
"Get some rest," she suggests, pulling away.
You pout. "But what about you," your gaze trailing down her naked form.
"I'm fine, we'll continue this another time," she reasons, kissing your temple.
"Fine," you relent, cuddling up to her and nuzzling her neck.
She rests her chin on top of your head, her hand gently rubbing your back.
"I'm really glad we met," you murmur, the exhaustion finally catching up with you.
"Me too," she replies, kissing the top of your head.
"You're gonna stay the night, right?"
"Of course," she affirms, giving you a squeeze.
"Good," you mumble, drifting off.
You smile, listening to the sound of her heartbeat, your eyelids growing heavy.
She whispers something that you can't quite hear, but before you can ask her what it is, sleep overtakes you.
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You wake up the next morning to find Bada fast asleep beside you. You roll over, facing her. She's on her back, one arm draped over her stomach, the other above her head. She's snoring lightly, her features relaxed. You try not to coo at how adorable she looks, and instead, get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom.
You take a quick shower, and then put on some sweatpants and a t-shirt. When you walk back into the bedroom, Bada's sitting up, her phone in her hand.
"Morning," you greet, crawling onto the bed and sitting next to her.
"Morning," she replies, her gaze focused on her phone.
"What are you looking at?"
"The news. Look,' she answers, handing her phone to you.
You read the headline.
'Improved conditions for the girls' basketball team after protests'.
"Oh, wow," you say, surprised.
"Yeah," she smiles, taking her phone back.
"Our project is kind of fucked now," you realize.
"Nah, it'll probably be fine. We'll just talk to the professor about it," she assures, putting her phone on the nightstand.
"What time is it, anyway?"
"12:30."
"Really? I thought it was earlier," you state.
"Well, we didn't get much sleep," she teases, a grin on her face.
"I wonder why," you reply, rolling your eyes.
She smiles wider and gives you a peck on the cheek. You laugh, her lips tickling you, your heart overflowing with joy. You felt like you were dreaming. Speaking of which, you suddenly remembered what she had whispered to you last night.
"Hey," you say, gently pushing her off of you.
"What's up?"
"Last night, right before I fell asleep, you said something," you start, trying to remember exactly what it was.
"Oh," she laughs, a blush forming on her cheeks.
"What did you say?"
"Nothing, just... nothing," she says, shaking her head.
"Bada," you urge, poking her side.
"Ugh, fine," she sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I, uh, I said I love you."
Your eyes widen in disbelief. "What?!" you gasp,
Her face flushes with embarrassment. "I know, it's stupid, and you don't have to say it back or anything, but I-,"
"Bada, shut up," you interrupt, pressing a finger to her lips.
"Huh?"
"I love you, too," you reveal, smiling.
"R-really?" she splutters, gazing at you in astonishment.
"Yes," you chuckle, kissing her forehead.
"Wow," she whispers, staring into the distance.
You laugh. "What, did you think I wouldn't say it back?"
"Well, I didn't really know," she admits, scratching her head.
"Of course I do," you insist, cupping her face.
She stares at you, her eyes wide. You stare back, your thumbs caressing her cheeks. Your heart swells as you smile at her, and her lips tug up into a smile. There's something so endearing about the way her eyes sparkle, her skin glows.
Then, she pounces on you, showering you in kisses.
"Hey, stop!"
"No," she giggles, her lips trailing down your jawline.
"Bada, seriously," you laugh, trying to push her off.
"Nope," she declares, her hands roaming under your shirt.
"Oh, my God," you sigh, giving in to her affection.
You hold her close, your arms wrapped around her. As she's getting increasingly handsy, you hear the door slam open.
"Okay y/n, TIME TO WAKE UP! I cannot believe you left the party without-" Lusher stops in the doorway, gasping as she lays her eyes on the scene before her.
"Fuck," you curse, scrambling out from under Bada and falling onto the floor.
"Oh god," Bada mutters, standing up.
"Lusher, please-"
"Bada?!" Lusher screams, her eyes wide. "Oh! My! God! How did this happen? Wait."
You groan. Here we go. "Lusher, please let us enjoy our-"
"God I'm glad you two finally got together. I was sooo tired of hearing you two mope about how into each other you were. It's about time, seriously."
"Lusher."
"Sorry, you know, I had weird premonition when I fell asleep that you guys hooked up, but I wasn't sure. Guess I'm a psychic," Lusher exclaims, giddily.
"Lusher."
"Okay, well, I'm glad it's true. And also, I'm very happy for you. Anyway, I'm going to go now," she announces, backing out of the room.
"Thanks, Lusher," Bada laughs.
"No problem. Also, by the way, I'm going to be a bridesmaid at the wedding."
"LUSHER."
"What? Okay, I'm going, I'm going. Bye!" she shouts, shutting the door.
"Oh, my God," Bada mutters, sitting back on the bed.
"Yeah," you agree, crawling back onto the bed and plopping next to her.
"She's a character."
"That's an understatement," you laugh.
"Anyway," Bada continues, a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Wait, what are you-,"
She pins you down, a smirk on her face. "Back to what we were doing!"
To Lusher's dismay, you and Bada spend the rest of the day locked away in your room, the two of you only coming out to grab snacks. And you couldn't be happier with how everything turned out. You almost laugh, remembering how hard you tried to convince yourself that you didn't have feelings for her, how you didn't want to date her, how she was out to get you.
But now, here you are, your head resting on her chest, her arms wrapped around you, her body pressed against yours. It's a dream come true.
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
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