fluffy

The PC cafe reeks of body musk, smoke and shin ramyeon, as usual. I'm already making the fourth ramyeon of my shift, carrying the tray steadily to the cubicle that ordered it. It seems that I had missed some action before arriving as PC cafe is dead silent and the customer sitting beside is slumped over the table.

"Your ramyeon is here," I interrupt, feeling the slightly horrified stares of those involved turn to myself.

My eyes and lips press into a half-hearted smile before resting the bowl on the table, doing my best to not meet their eyes so that I can get back to watching my show at the reception counter. As I turn to leave, someone grabs onto my wrist, squeezing it like a boa constrictor.

"Hey, aren't you gonna do anything about this? That little fucker slammed my friend's head into the table?"

I look back at the visibly middle-aged man holding onto my wrist and at the shaggy haired high schooler, and internally roll my eyes. It turns out that my eye roll was also external as the man yanks at my wrist and raises his voice, "Are you fucking with me or what?"

I sigh, "Sir, please let go of me, or I'll have to call the manager."

The customer snarls and stands up, chest flaring like a lizard making itself bigger to intimidate me. "Yeah, get your fucking manager here before I—"

I jerk my arm back, twisting my body for leverage, "Sir, the next time you do this, I'm going to have to ban you for making a scene."

I take a step forward to leave, but a flash of red suddenly moves in front of me. The kid moves fast for sure, but I'm faster, bumping shoulders as I make my way back to my seat and ignoring the sounds of protest behind me.

┈

Remind me to get new underwear, I text to my friend while squirming in my seat. After a long overdue spring cleaning session, I had thrown out all my ratty underwear with holes, but that meant that I had run out of clean underwear in the middle of the week.I basically tore apart my closet, clothes flying all over my floor in an attempt to find some semblance of comfortable panties, but alas, all I had left were my stringy thongs.

I could get used to the sensation of something between my ass cheeks, but the constant requests from the PC cafe customers to pick something up from the floor is starting to get on my nerves. It's honestly tiring to tell off the high schoolers, but the older men? Their sense of entitlement over my body bled from their leering eyes, leaning back and raking over my ass when I came over with their order of instant ramyeon or air-fried chicken. Honestly, thinking about it sends a shiver down my spine.

This has to be the third time this particular table called me over, the first time to complain about their taste of their ramyeon, the second to order a soda, which had to be ordered over the POS anyway. I ignored their snickering the second time round as the guy feigned ignorance and requested for help finding the drinks menu on the ordering system, which was utter bullshit since they didn't even send a drink order in afterwards.

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I manage my best customer service voice when I approach their seat, "How can I help you?"

He grumbles, "I almost lost my ranked just now because your screen won't respond. You gotta fix it, what if I lose the next one?"

My left eye twitches, "Let me take a look at your computer."

A few cursory clicks and checks show that there is nothing wrong with the computer at all. I let out a sigh, turning around to tell the customer off, "There's nothing wrong with your computer at all. Don't call me over for stupid—"

A snap reverberates through the walls and my body, a stinging sensation blossoming at my hip. Did that motherfucker just snap my thong strap? The snickering and whooping that follow sound like nails on a chalkboard, and the bastard even decides to taunt me, "Princess, what's wron—"

My hand lands square on his face, the impact of the slap stinging my palm. "Fucking bastard," I mutter under my breath, turning on my heels to walk away.

"Do you want to fight? Do you even know who we are?" His friend snarls while blocking my path, pretentiously cracking his knuckles. He shoves me back so hard, I almost stumble and fall, but not before seeing a hand flying towards me.

Shit. My leg takes a step back, dodging the hit. Silently thanking myself for the underwear debacle for making me forget my earrings, I curl my fingers and press the pads onto my palm before lunging at the man. The heel of my palm collides right on his jaw, forcing spittle onto the floor.

He holds his jaw and storms after me, pained and fuming. He lets out a low growl before his hands shoot out in an attempt to grab me. As I jump back to dodge him, the noisy rustle of a polyester jacket acts a foreshock for the punch that lands on his face.

His head lolls back from the impact, hanging from his neck. A fist grips onto his shirt neckline, holding his body away as another slams back onto his head. The assailant takes a look at the shocked faces of that moron's friend group before a playful smile carves itself on his face and he slams another blow onto his victim's face.

"Hey! That's enough. One more and I'll have to ban you too."

His fist stops mid-air, his crazed eyes boring into mine now, daring me to say something or back down.

"I literally see you here every other week, do you really want to get banned?"

It seems that the negotiation in his head goes in my favour as he releases his grip on his victim, letting the man collapse onto the floor.

"How are you going to ban your saviour, huh?"

I can't help rolling my eyes, "I didn't need your help."

He scoffs, "You don't ban these shitheads here anyway."

My head turns sharply to stare at him proper, taking in the planes of his face. Isn't this the kid that allegedly slammed someone's face in a few years ago? Fuck, I really should have banned him too back then.

He smirks again as recognition flashes through my widening eyes, "I'm hurt. I've always remembered you, but I'm just a customer to you, huh?"

My face twitches in disgust at his faux pitiful look, his pout hanging dramatically off his face, "There's literally hundreds of you in here."

"Aww, you can remember me now. I'm Geum Seongje."

┈

A annoyingly familliar whiff of cologne sets off my instincts and my body internally cringes at the anticipated bullshit to come.

"Noona!"

My eyes preemptively roll themselves under my eyelids before they flutter open.

Seongje has his signature gummy smile plastered on his face as he leans over the reception desk, "You look pretty today."

"I'm pretty everyday."

He chuckles, " Yeah, but you're extra sexy today. Did you do something with your hair? Or is it a new lip gloss?"

I look up from my notebook, resisting the urge to answer him with anything but a cold blank look. I did dress up a little today considering I had plans with my friends after this shift, but he didn't need to know that.

"Don't look at me like that, I'm gonna get hard."

"Jesus Christ," I mutter under my breath, rolling my eyes as he bursts into laughter, body rocking with each laugh. "Just go to your cubicle, Seongje."

He leans over the counter, chest heaving slower from his laughter dying down. "Noona, I'm serious," he says. "I could treat you better than those university boys, hm? Noona, just give me a chance. They can't go down on you like I can, I can make you squir—"

"Oh my god, shut up!" I whisper-shout after clapping my hand over his mouth, my face flush with embarassment. His plush lips are smirking in the palm of my hand, a glint of mischief sparkles in his eyes before he starts licking at my palm.

"What the fuck! Are you a dog?" I exclaim as my hand jerks back, wiping his saliva away on my shorts. His red lips glisten under the LED lights of the PC cafe as he licks them slowly, as if he's savouring the taste of my skin.

"I'll bark, noona, anything you want. I can do alot more than licking if you let me." Seongje laughs before leaving me to burn in the wake of his words.

The rest of my shift goes as normally as it can, with the occassional pickup line from Seongje when I'm serving his food and the heat on my cheeks cooling off in the air conditioning, his shameless flirting to be forgotten with the passing hours. Catching up with my high school friends was nice, swinging by old haunts like the stationery store we used to frequent after school and exploring new ones like the bar that opened right as our university semester started. The cool night air runs its fingers through my long hair as I bid my friends goodbye and set off towards the bus stop.

"Noona, are you waiting for someone?"

Seongje?

I gingerly take off my earphones and the familliar rustle of his polyester windbreaker greets me as he sits next to me.

"Noona, your cheeks are red, did you drink tonight?" He leans in, finger inching close to my face.

I turn my face away, unamused. "So what if I did?"

"It's not safe to be out alone. Let me send you home at least."

A scoff escapes my throat, "So you can stalk me? Hell no."

"Is that really what you think of me? Noona, if you have a boyfriend, then I can show you how much better I am."

"What's wrong with you?" I squint at him, "Go flirt with someone your age."

Seongje scrunches his face up cutely, teasing smile growing on his face, "Don't wanna."

I am at a loss for words. The fake suave and nonchalant Geum Seongje acting cute? All I can do is to fake a gag. Seongje holds back a laugh before eventually giving in to the chuckling, swinging his leg over the bench to face me straight on.

"I'm not even that much younger, noona. I can show you, I'm grown in other ways too."

He lets out a breathy exhale, staring into the space behind me. Strangely, there is no acrid smell of smoke lingering around him.

"Seongje, you stopped smoking?"

"Mhm, you don't seem to like it." His voice drops to a whisper, leaning close to my ear, "Plus I want to keep my mouth clean for your pussy."

I pull away from him almost instantaneously, an incredulous look masking the weirdly satisfying twinge in my heart, "You're impossible, oh my god. Is that all you think about?"

He nods enthusiastically, his signature gummy smile a stark contrast to his hungry eyes.

"You… you really like me, huh?" I say quietly.

"Noona, you know better than me how I feel about you."

A beat passes, forcing me to sit with all of my thoughts that come flooding in. The way I've grown used to his habits, anticipating and even looking forward to seeing him at the PC cafe. Not to mention, the constant flirting that kept me up during excruciatingly lonely nights. His promises rang in my ears everytime my long nails scratched at my labia, ruining the high I built up for myself. God, I must be pent up, to even consider taking him up on his offer. How desperately do I want to get off?

Seongje's still staring at me with the same intense look.

A sigh escapes my lips. "Is anyone at home tonight?"

His imaginary tail is practically wagging in the corner of my eye as he leads me to his motorcycle and when he speeds up on the highways, forcing my arms to tighten around his waist.

"Seongje-ya, are you gonna be a good boy for me?"

He lets out a guttaral moan, nodding desperately in the crook of my neck. "Please, noona, I'll be good. I'll do anything you want, I'll make you feel so good, noona. Please, please— let me—"

His tongue laps at my skin desperately, chasing a high only my sweat can give him, "God, noona, you don't know what you fucking do to me—" He takes breaks from licking at me to sniff at me, inhaling deeply and sighing like I'm the most fragrant thing he has gotten his hands on.

Having him up close and bare is enlightening. Who could have known about those broad shoulders he was hiding under his windbreakers? His chest is taut under my touch, every muscle defined with its own ridges and curves. His breath hitches with each trace of my finger, his body twitching under me.

His fingers ghost across my clothed torso, never staying in one place for too long as if my body is red hot. They shakily flit around my ribcage, to my waist and back around to my shoulders. I steady his hands, holding on to his wrists, "Touch me properly."

Another groan escapes his lips as his hands snake under my top, pulling it off of me. He runs his fingers across the lace details of my bra, mapping the design slowly into his fingertips. "Knew there was something extra sexy about you today," he mutters into my breasts, reaching behind my back to unclasp my bra.

His soft hair tangles between my fingers, the layers give me much to hold on to as I stroke his hair from the top of his head to his neck, exploring how each touch makes him quiver and pant. He thumbs excitedly at my breasts, circling around my nipple and sparking desire into my spine.

The grip on his head tightens as he presses kisses on my flesh, sucking lightly till he envelopes my nipple with his lips. The warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his encircling tongue lapping at me sends shivers down my spine. Hushed whimpers escape my lips as I bite back my moans, afraid of being too loud so close to the front door, but he nips at me, running my bud between his teeth. It stings, god, it stings so bad it tightens the coil in my core, wetness pooling between my legs.

"Noona," he says between breaths and sucks, "If I suck hard enough, do you think milk will come out of here?"

"What— what the fuck are you saying?"

"Bet you taste super sweet, hm? Can I— let me taste you"

His hands descend on my torso, gripping and caressing till he reaches the waistband of my shorts. His nimble fingers undo the buttons, letting my shorts fall onto the floor.

The view elicits another guttaral groan from him, fingers busy toying with the red strap of my thong. "Did you plan on going home with someone else? Hmm? Or were you thinking about me, noona?", he says as he presses his lips to my pelvic bone.

"Shut up."

"It's okay, I think about you enough for the both of us. You know—, " he groans, taking a break from nipping at me. "I was so lonely when you left for university." He descends down my body till he's kneeling in front of me, nose deep in the soaked cloth of my thong.

The warmth of his exhales on my clothed pussy does little to stop me from twitching on his face, his grip on my hips tightening as he noses into me. The tip of his nose drags slowly up till it rubs against my clit, and a satisfied sigh escapes my lips.

"Is your clit here?" He rubs his nose into the same spot, guiding my hips into rolling onto him.

"Seongje-ya, take my panties off for me. Let me feel you, 'kay?"

His hands scramble to tug my thong off, almost falling face first onto the wall behind me as he presents his face for me again. "Yes, yes, I can— I can do that for noona." He pleads in hushed whispers, enthusiastically pawing at my hips, "Use me, please."

My breath hitches again as the wet tip of his nose nudges against my clit and his lips curl into a smile against my skin. The pecks he gives my pussy are shy and wet, not once daring to even let his tongue have a taste.

"Mmh, Seongje." My stifled murmurs seem to only excite him more, pressing his face closer into me and letting his hands wander aimlessly on whatever part of my body he can. Finally, he dares to stick his tongue out, letting me grind onto the flat wetness. His breath is still warm, breathing so heavily I think for a moment that he might pass out, but then he lets out a strangled moan, signalling that he's alive and well.

"Seongje-ya."

I grip onto his hair, gently angling his face to look up at me. "Didn't you say you could make me squirt? Hm? Why am I doing all the work, Seongje-ya?" He lets out a long drawn out sigh when my hands tighten around his shaggy locks, tongue stiffening to a point when I grind my clit down on to him. "How are you gonna be better than the boys at university if all you're gonna do is kneel there like a dumb puppy?"

A whine leaks out of him and he mouths at my pussy as if he's kissing someone, "Want you to feel good— I'll do anything— that makes you feel good, noona."

The first suck on my clitoris is humbling. The little shriek I let out knocks whatever arrogance I had out of me the moment he hollowed his cheeks around my bud, squirming against his mouth and the wall. The sounds he makes as he slurps at me is vulgar, a conversation punctuated by squelches and whimpers. I crumple into myself, legs squeezing onto the side of his head and my grip on his hair getting loose as I scramble to hold myself up.

My legs buckle with a particularly lewd drag of his tongue, "I'm— i'm gonna— fall, oh my god, oh my—"

Seongje's hand reaches up to support my hips, pushing me up on the wall. He lightly squeezes my ass before pulling away from me, the bottom of his face still shiny from eating me out, "Move to the bed?"

"Ugh, yes please."

Whatever brief respite I had with moving to the bed didn't last because Seongje can't keep his mouth shut and his hands to himself. He touches the curve of my hips softly, steering me towards the bed while drawing circles, "Noona, your pussy is kinda small. What if you squeeze my tongue off then I'm only gonna have half a tongue?"

My back twitches from his chaste kisses, "Sounds like a 'you' problem."

"You're so mean," he whines.

"If it's too small for you then…" My words trail off as I settle onto the firm mattress, propping my torso up with my arms, "I can just leave."

A sick satisfaction blooms in my heart, tugging the corners of my lips up into a faux innocent smile. The way he almost trips on himself trying to get up from the bed and nearly forgetting the fact that he was laying on me and would nose dive straight into my legs before finally catching himself was scratching an itch I never knew could be fulfilled like this. He babbles, "Noona, noona, noona", burying his face in my thighs pathetically.

Now that he's closer I can see that wolfish grin of his peeking out as he sucks at my thighs between his garbled string of pleads, his pelvis rocking slowly into the mattress. "You like this, Seongje? Hm? Running after me like a dog?"

Suddenly, he wraps his arms around my legs and my heart stops beating till I register that my face is pressed against the mattress. His arm definition is much more pronounced now as I steady my breathing, the silence pumping through the slopes of his biceps as if flipping me over was nothing. I bite back a sigh when he laughs softly, "Yeah, I like this so much. What about it?" His plush lips greet my folds again, tonguing the entrance gingerly, "Noona, will you let me— let me chase after you?"

The stutter and the reddened tips of his ears is supposed to make this romantic, but he has the most playful snarl resting on his lips as he alternates between sucking at my clit and easing his tongue into my pussy. It is as if we are opposite poles of 2 magnets, snapping together with a resounding click and the same warmth blooms again in my heart. "Seongje-ya, you should focus—"

With a forceful push of my hips, my pussy is flush to his mouth and his tongue presses into me. The warm intrusion elicits a moan from me, but he gives me no time to adjust before pistoning his tongue in and out, making sure to stiffen his tongue ever so slightly before it grazes my entrance. "Fucking mutt," I mutter under my breath, hips jerking down to match his pace.

It seems to excite him, seeing that he immediately moves onto sucking at my clit again, licking at it in broad strokes. The bedsheets twist in my hands as I hold on to them, my quivering legs don't do much to prop me up and all my weight lands square on his face. He lets out a strangled groan, pressing me into him more as he sloppily makes out with my clit, teasing the bud with light grazes of his teeth.

"Fuck, keep going."

His chin must be soaked from all the slick leaking out of me and his ears must hurt from my thighs squeezing the sides of his head. He builds up the warmth between my legs with his flicking tongue, maintaining the bullying pressure on my clit. The orgasm rocks through my body with a whimper and a buckle at the knees, body almost caving in as the wetness gushes out onto Seongje's face.

He slurps at me messily, chasing the mess with his lips, not caring that he's drooling out the corner of his mouth. He's insistent on swirling his tongue on my pussy, flat and long in the most vulgar way possible, rubbing against my clit and hole enough for short-lived tingles and a growing itch to chase the stimulation. I squirm against his hands, trying to move away from him, but he holds me there, uncaring that the throbbing sensation on my clit cycles between pain and pleasure.

I choke back a sob as my hole clenches around nothing, "Mmf, Seongje, please…"

My arms give out as release wrecks through my body again, chest heaving against the mattress. Seongje has thankfully moved onto pecking at my pussy lightly, "Noona, how many times can you cum? Should we find out today? Let's go again—"

"Are you fucking crazy?" I say between ragged breaths. "You— Don't you want to— want to use the condoms we bought?"

He whines, tongue flitting out to rub against my clit,"No, no, let me… let me eat you out again… Blue balls don't exist, noona. Let's go again, please, please…"

"Ugh, you fucking mutt." Finally able to pry his hands off me, I finally lay back and get to see what a mess Seongje has become. His crooked glasses do nothing to hide the glazed-over look he has in his eyes, nostrils flaring a little as he takes in fresh oxygen and tongue still licking at the remnants on his wet lips. "Why do you get to keep your clothes on, huh? You get to see me naked but I can't?"

He rolls over with no protesting, lazily sliding his boxers off. Saliva pools on my tongue as I take in the sight of his throbbing cock. It's thick, leaking and an angry shade of red at the tip. The wet sheen of precum glistens under the light of his dim bedside lamp. Seongje kneels on the bed as if he's presenting himself to me, cock bobbing with his movements, "Noona, do you like it?"

He laughs a little too proudly when I can't seem to tear my eyes away, a blush tinging the tips of his ears. Subconsciously, I bite the corner of my lip, "Mhm. You're a little thick, Seongje-ya. I think you're gonna have to stretch me out."

Seongje throws his head back with a strangled whine, "You're… noona. You're gonna be the death of me."

My legs part to make way for him and he slots himself between them as if he's made for it. The tip of his finger teases my entrance as he runs it along my folds, letting the slick coat the skin before pressing one in. My breath gets caught in my windpipe, his finger is thicker and longer than mine, pressing experimentally at my upper walls.

Fuck, I missed this, missed the feeling of having something in me. Seongje looks up with his glassy eyes, "Is this okay? Can I put another in?"

His middle finger is even longer, the tip ghosting across a spongy spot inside me. "Nngh, Seongje—", I clutch the sheets as he begins to spread his fingers, scissoring them inside me. My walls push against his fingers, greedily clenching around him, only letting up after they had their fill. If the stretch wasn't enough, his mouth has descended upon my pussy, licking at my abused clit.

"Shit! You— Seongje!" I cry out as the pleasure threads through my body again, coursing through my veins and my shaking legs. His breathing gets heavier as I clench around his fingers, his other hand too busy tempering my squirming hips, "Is this good? Noona, do you feel good?"

"Fuck, Seongje-ya, gimme your cock, hm? Put it in," I squeeze the words out of the warm blur of my brain, my feet desperately running along the length of his legs pleading with him. Seongje lets up finally, tearing himself away from me just to frantically paw at the pile of clothes, rustling his pant pocket to find the pack of condoms. "Yes, okay, yes, I— okay," Seongje stumbles over his words as he rolls the condom onto his hard length.

His eyes are trained on the sight of his cock lined up to the entrance of my pussy, unable to look away or take a breath. Words get stuck in his throat as he pushes in slowly, feeling me pulse around his length. He chokes back a quiet sob when he finally bottoms out, squeezing his eyes shut. I reach out to stroke at his hair, chest heaving as I adjust to the feeling of being full and stretched out.

His hips begin to rock slowly, his cock pumping out of me in shallow strokes. My hands grasp at his shoulders, a dizzying haze of pleasure taking over my brain. "Seongje, Seongje, Seongje," I say in hushed whispers, letting my hands run over the expanse of his back, feeling how the muscles ripple as he moves.

"Noona, noona, I can't—" His voice cracks a little, "You feel so good, I think I'm gonna cum right now."

A tiny smile breaks onto my face, "You're so cute, Seongje-ya."

Something seems to snap in Seongje. He hunches over and plants his mouth on my ears, nibbling at the cartilage. Squirming against his ticklish touch and his body caging me in proves to be futile as he draws his cock out of me and slams back in again.

"Seongje!" I cry out, fingernails digging into his back. His cockhead presses against a spongy spot inside me as he thrusts, whimpers falling out of my lips as a warm tension builds in my pelvis.

His hips buck at an ungodly pace, slamming straight into the same spot. His words slur into a repetitive prayer, "Noona, noona, noona, is this good? Am I good?"

"Fuck, yes— You're so good to me, Seongje-ya."

It's almost disgusting how wet I am, each thrust of his hips is coupled with a vulgar schlickshlickshlick. He keeps a bruising grip on my waist, holding me in place even though I squirm at every tingle down my spine.

"I— I'm gonna cum, noona," Seongje whispers, breath hitching when my pussy involuntarily clenches around him.

"Can— can I— cum inside, noona, please?" He begs, cock still drilling into my sweet spot, reducing me to nothing but whimpers and pants. His voice is so sweet and pleading, as if every fibre of his being wants nothing but me.

"Fuck, Je-ya—"

He chokes back a sob, "Can I— please, please, please— Let me cum…"

The knot building in me tightens, slick gushing out of me at the thought of his cum leaking out of me, him burying his flushed face into the crook of my neck as his warm spend…

"Lemme cum inside, please— I— I can carry the baby if you get pregnant—"

"Je, what the fuck are you saying—"

His thrusts are sloppier, desperately chasing a high, "Noona, please, please lemme cum inside. You feel so good— I'll— I'll give birth, noona. Just, just let me cum please, please."

His pussydrunk whines send a ripple through my body and my pussy clenches tighter around him, practically milking his cock. A groan rips through him, as he spills into the condoms, hips stuttering. My release comes soon after, after he continues to thrust into me slowly until a strangled whimper escapes my lips.

Seongje stays buried in me, cock softening a little and face nosing around my neck and jaw. I tilt my head back and let him press as many light kisses as he wants, carding my fingers through his hair.

When the sweat between us gets unbearably sticky, I nudge Seongje off as he protests lightly. Nonetheless, he rolls over and pulls the condom off before walking towards the back of his house. Staring up at the ceiling, I barely notice that he made his way back to the bed till a warm wet fabric touches my legs.

"Is it too hot?" Seongje asks as he tenderly wipes my skin down.

I shake my head, taking the time to admire his focused expression as he cleans me up like I'm a rare and fragile artifact, setting my limbs down gingerly after he was done. He murmurs while wiping down my arms, "Your hands are so pretty, noona. You should keep your nails long like this."

"It's kinda annoying though, can't do alot of things."

"But you have me. I'll do it all for you. I'll eat you out, I'll make you squirt—"

I place a hand on his, "Okay, that's enough."

"You know its true though."

After changing into some of his spare clothes, I lay on his outstretched arms on his bed, staring at the light coming in from the windows.

"Noona,' he whines. "Take me with you when you go back to school, hm?"

I pretend not to hear that, closing my eyes and hoping that sleep takes over me.

It's hard to ignore the weight shift in my arms. From stillness to a shoulder on my chest and then an elbow. I can't pinpoint whether I was awake before she started stirring or if her movement woke me up. My hands instinctively reach out to her, stroking at whatever expanse of skin I touch.

"Go back to sleep," Yeongi murmurs.

"It's okay, I have to be awake soon."

She gives my hands back to the blanket lightly, patting it twice. Even in my bleariness, I can make out the tap that runs for too long and the flush that came way later. I blink it away.

It's hard to ignore the weight shift in my arms when it happens so often. From stillness, to her left shoulder on my chest then her right elbow at my ribs. It seems she twitches a little in her sleep before she stirs, and that's when I wake, just in time for her to start stirring. My hands reach out to her on cue, stroking at her thighs.

"Go back to sleep," Yeongi murmurs.

"You go back to sleep, you don't even work today."

She tosses my hands back to me, landing in our blankets with a thump. The bathroom door is locked when I pad after her, but she is sniffling behind the water rushing from the tap, and tissue rustles and crumples before she flushes the toilet.

Yeongi almost jumps when she opens the door, awkwardly slinking away as if I haven't already seen her reddening nose and wet eyes. Yeongi does this every time she wakes up from the middle of her nightmare, she sets the table up with our favourite side dishes and makes fresh rice with thin pork collar strips. She mixes ssamjang her way, and insists on eating a burger for a later meal.

Yeongi showed up like the Busan winter. Her bangs were carefully trimmed right above her eyebrows, but the rest of her hair was tousled from her beanie. Her fingers nervously plucked at her bag strap, but her eyes steadily swept across the living room, taking in the layout.

"She's a little messy, but I'm sure y'all will get along fine. Being girls in your twenties and all," the real estate agent says cheerfully.

I chuckle nervously as I pick up a few of my snacks that was strewn across the floor, hoping that Yeongi wouldn't immediately get icked out and not want to sign the lease. A phone call comes from the real estate agent later that night giving me the good news.

Yeongi moves in the next day, bringing nothing but a small duffel bag and the purse. We share jjajangmyeon in silence. She doesn't bother to find out more about me, and answers my questions curtly, so I learn to stop probing.

"Is it the same nightmare again?"

She hums noncommittally.

"You know I'm always here for you, just talk to me." I stuff rice into my mouth. Yeongi says nothing, but she chews slower than normal.

I wash up next to her, scrubbing diligently at the bowls and cutlery, while Yeongi places them on the drying rack. As I pass her the last plate, she places a hand on me, "I really want to tell you. One day. "

Between spring and summer, she asks for a favour.

"Do you… What kind of hair cut would you give me?"

I pause mid chew, I didn't want to admit it but I had thought about this a thousand times over. Keep her length and give her face framing layers. Pixie cut. Flaming red hair with black highlights and extensions.

We eventually settle on a shorter layered cut that could be swept back in a cap, but not too long as sweat often pooled at the back of her neck when she worked. She sits in the salon chair on one of my slower days, lips pressed together nervously as I did the first big chop. It's hard to miss the tear that slides out of her eye.

"New hair, new you," I smile at her.

"Yeah." She smiles shyly as she wipes the tear from her cheek.

Haeundae beach proves to be just what she needs. The beach is empty now that school has started, leaving us to our own devices. Yeongi's eyes practically light up at the sound of the crashing waves, the salty air filling our lungs as we rush towards the water.

The sea laps at our legs excitedly, leaving behind nothing but the warmth of the sun. Yeongi playfully splashes sea water at me, before giggling and running away from my splashes. I chase after her, big splashes following my clumsy steps as I run as fast as I can.

We collapse onto the beach towel, chest heaving while our stringy wet hair sticks to our scalp. The dosirak Yeongi packs for us is mouthwatering, filled with all banchan and meat she gets from her restaurant job. The meat damn near melts on my tongue and the pickled radish is crisp and sour, just the way I like it.

'I heard from some of the neighbourhood aunties that you've adjusted quite fast."

"I used to work in a BBQ restaurant."

"In Seoul?"

Yeongi pauses, swallowing her last bite. She looks towards the sea.

"Yeah, back in Seoul."

The day goes on as per normal, we strip our (my) bed and dump all our laundry into the washing machine. While it hums and spins, I have taken to mopping the floor while Yeongi wipes down the flat surfaces. She likes blasting songs from popular girl groups, humming along during the verses and breaking out into dance during the chorus. She says I must be making fun of her when I laugh, but deep down she knows that affection shines through the apples of my cheeks when I smile at her, that all I can feel for her is love.

Our wet laundry drips onto our hands and the concrete floor of the rooftop as we hang it up. I tell her about the customers that wander into the salon asking for absolutely ridiculous hair colours, and she tells me about the drunkards that wave around their empty wallets when it comes time to pay.

It's almost time for my shift at the salon, so I stuff my belongings and the dosirak Yeongi sets out for me into my bag. My shoelaces come undone, but once I stand up from tying them, Yeongi is standing in front of me.

"You don't work next Tuesday, right?"

I nod, "Why?"

"I was thinking of having a few drinks next Monday, that's all."

A smile cracks onto my face, "Sounds good."

She cups my face and gives me a peck on the lips, "See you later."

Yeongi doesn't really know it, but she talks in her sleep. It ranges from being mundane, like greeting customers in her flat customer-service voice, to being really hilarious, like the time she argued with me about the glowing blue fungus growing on Mars. Of course, sometimes, she sobs.

Hurried breaths begin to creep between my earphones and I pause my game to look back at our bed. She's shaking like a leaf, eyes squeezed shut as if there is something she doesn't want to see. Her eyes don't open even when I sit next to her or tap her shoulder, "Babe."

"Sieun-ah, don't… don't go."

Hm?

"We should run," she mutters. "They're going to catch up to us."

I know it's a bad idea to not wake her up, but I can't help being curious. I resort to gently stroking her hair, knowing that it soothes her when she's awake. She tosses in her sleep, this time turning and nuzzling into my lap, "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."

When I arrive home, Yeongi is sat in front of the TV, watching the news channel.

"You're home." She says, not even turning to look at me.

"What's so interesting?"

More than half the story must have been over by the time I tune in, leaving me bits and pieces to pick up on. Something about juvenile violence rates rising , especially in Seoul.

Yeongi clings to me when she sees a large group of noisy male students. Her grip on my arms tighten and she only lets out the breathe she holds in when we are a street away and their voices become a murmur in the wind.

"Babe, they're just kids."

Her face curls in disgust, "You never know, kids these days. They're scary as hell."

I hold her closer, pressing a kiss to her head, "Don't you worry, I'm here."

"I'm telling you, you really never know what someone can be capable of."

Sometimes, Yeongi disappears into the apartment stairwell early in the mornings. The morning breeze bites at my face as I push the apartment door open after her. She runs out in such a hurry that she forgets her jacket, clattering down the steps in just her slides.

"…okay?" is all I hear as I approach her gingerly, holding out her jacket.

The older and female voice on the other side of the phone says, "You shouldn't worry about me. Take care of yourself too."

She looks at me when the weight of her jacket finally falls onto her shoulders. Her smile barely reaches her cheeks, and she mouths thanks to me before turning her back to me again. It's quite obvious that she's shutting me out, but there's only so much information I can give up knowing when it comes to Yeongi and the way she acts.

I take the slowest steps up back up to our apartment, straining my ears to catch even the slightest sliver of the conversation. All I catch is another name, that they're 'stable' and that Yeongi wouldn't be back in Seoul for a while.

It's not like we talk about nothing but the present. Yeongi says that when I get really drunk, I say that the world would have been brighter without me. Apparently I cling to her, tears streaming down my face and my voice shakes. "Some people just aren't fit to be parents," I say resolutely, taking another swig of soju.

My eyes smart at the burn in my throat, "If we ever have kids, we should… Nah, I don't think I could raise a kid the way that I am right now."

"Me too, I don't think anyone really showed me how to be a good parent."

The next day, I woke up to a ringing headache. It felt like the sides of my head was pulsing into me, and I barely made it to the kitchen where Yeongi's lovingly made soup stared back at me as I blinked at it.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" Bless Yeongi and her insane alcohol tolerance.

"No," I mutter under my breath, bringing the bowl of soup to my mouth.

She strokes my head lovingly, "It's alright, hope you feel better soon."

When the cloud of pain dissipates and my mind starts piecing together the events of last night, Yeongi's hushed whispers come back to me. She tells me about running away from home, how she almost got caught shoplifting but someone had blocked the store assistant's view. She chuckles abit when she reminisces about running her fingers over a real Louis Vuitton bag, how the material felt so remarkably heavy compared to the knockoff purse she got online.

She leans back onto the sofa, and continues telling me some convoluted story about a gambling site, and then goes back to her parents. How they were no-good gambling bastards too, that every day she thought about all these rich kids and how easily they could skate by their debts, that if she could, she would have told them to quit gambling just in case they got saddled with karmic debt and a kid.

I maintain that I don't remember anything when I drink too much, Yeongi doesn't seem to mind it, goodnaturedly reminding me to know my limits before going out with my friends.

Monday comes soon enough, and we head to the convenience store together after Yeongi's shift ends. She takes one less bottle of soju than the last time and piles snacks into the basket. It means, ' I want you to remember everything I say tonight.'

I remember everything she tells me. I remember how the sun shone on her first day working at her friend's grandma's restaurant, that Sieun is actually not a girl, that she feels like she's a magnet for trouble. How she heard the same hurtful spiel about being the reason for everything going downhill every night before she fell asleep, and once again when she wakes up in cold sweat after a fitful night. She chokes a little bit when she says that she can never go back to Seoul again, because what if Seokdae Oppa is still indebted to the gang and then she will have to face the guilt of running away from him, knowing that she should have gone to jail with him.

"How could you have known that this would happen? You did nothing wrong," I reassure her, holding her in my arms.

Yushi is polarising. 

You would think that with how he makes everyone go from the top again and again if someone even breathes out of sync that everyone would quit his performance crew in a heartbeat. However, spots in his crew only get more and more competitive, dancers clamouring for a chance to be worked to the bone by him, to even have the privilege of being looked down upon by him. 

Love him or hate him, Yushi holds the longest win streak in club history as a student choreographer. His body flows like water, morphing his form to the shape of the music. Throw him into any genre of music and he would embody it mind, body and soul. His limbs are always perfectly placed, dancing like he was specially tuned for it. As a choreographer, his sharp eyes caught every little slip up and he always knew how to correct them, giving such helpful pointers that every practice session with him feels like metamorphosis, a better dancer emerging from those hectic and sweaty 3 hours. Every dancer worth their salt knows, Yushi sets the goddamn standard for a reason. 

Everyone remembers their audition with Yushi. I had steeled myself to be immune to his fluidity, but watching him demonstrate the choreography blew me away so much that I almost forgot what I was here for. When it was finally my turn to be at the front, I did my best knowing that I could have done better if it wasn’t for his floppy blond hair distracting me earlier. He thanks everyone politely after their turn, his impenetrable gaze revealing nothing about what he thinks about you. 

My first practice with him was daunting. I stretched before even getting to practice, made sure I ate something light so I would have just enough energy to get through practice without puking halfway, but I still managed to find myself under the pads of his fingers, tapping lightly at the ridge of my spine. “You have to fix your posture.” He says so matter-of-factly I wonder if I have lived wrong all my life.

No one expects a cheerful and food motivated person underneath his icy exterior, least of all me. His eyes shone as he watched me take a bite of my cinnamon flavoured oat bar, begging for a taste. He flashes a relaxed smile as he chews on the bite I offer to him, satisfied. “Oh that, that’s good. Let me take a picture of the packaging,” he casually takes the bar from me, worlds away from the icy choreographer I had to work up the courage to approach for pointers. 

“It’s nice to be approached for help,” he mentions once as we pack up. “I often worry that I’m being too strict, that everyone secretly hates me, that they tolerate me because of what I can do for them.” 

“I guess it is true, it’s lonely at the top.”

“It’s not, I have friends!” He retorts, clearly offended. “I have you too.”

I gasp, “Am I not a friend?” 

He thinks carefully, “You’re more like a disciple.” 

“Fuck you, Yushi.”

He doubles over laughing. He’s not wrong, I have a ways to go. He reaches to ruffle my hair, ignoring my swats, “You’re more than a friend to me.” His hands smell like my shampoo and exertion. He doesn’t wipe it away. 

This must be the tenth time we have gone over this part and it’s all my fault. My back feels like a plank of hardwood, nothing I try can will my back into bending back at the right angle without falling over. “Again.” Yushi says for the millionth time and my heart breaks into a thousand more pieces. Everyone looks like they're barely alive, showing enough vital signs to get through one last run. “This is a waste of time, let’s clean this part next session.” Yushi looks straight at me, “You, stay back. I need to talk to you. Everyone can go.” 

I force a smile as everyone pats my back reassuringly. “It's a bad day, not a bad dancer,” they say. When everyone is gone, Yushi tells me to leave my things and follow him. My eyes smart as I trail behind him, winding through the other dance crews practicing. He suddenly yanks me into a room, a lock clicks before I realise we are in the handicapped toilet together. 

“Do we have to talk here?”

He raises an eyebrow, “Do you want to do it outside where everyone can see you?”

I avoid his gaze. He’s right. 

“Do you do the stretches I ask you to do? Did you get enough sleep last night or were you up all night reading manhwa?”

“I did! It’s been a long day, Yushi, please. Cut me some slack.”

“Are you sure today is the only day your body can’t keep up? Or is this how it is from now on?” 

My lips press together nervously, “I’m sorry, Yushi… I’m just a little tired today, okay? I’ll do better.”

“Really? You will do better? I don’t think you even know why you messed up today, how will you improve like this?”

What do I even say to that? Surely he knows whatever I said to myself is worse, that he doesn’t have to tell me this because I already know all of it. 

He studies my face, looking at my glassy eyes and my quivering lips. He sighs, “Take your clothes off.” 

My eyes widen, “What?” 

“It’s on me to help you figure out what’s wrong. I told you that I can't see your lines well in baggy clothes, but you don’t listen, so strip.” 

I look for a sign, a hint that he’s joking, a clue that this is all in fact a fever dream, but there’s nothing but the seriousness he brings to practice behind his eyes, his lips stiff with purpose. 

“Okay…”

I raise my shirt gingerly over my head and step out of my sweatpants slowly. It’s at this moment that I am acutely aware of how handsome Yushi is, and that every flaw that I have is left bare for his perfect eyes to pick apart. His eyes don’t even move, staring coldly at my face, as if I am nothing but a problem to solve.

“Turn around.” 

I do as he says as he watches me from beneath the tip of his nose. My breath hitches when he presses his palm into my back, thumbing at my spine. His hands slip on my sweat when he uses too much pressure, but he doesn’t stop to wipe it off, pressing into my back continuously until he reaches a particularly tense spot on my mid back. 

“AH! That hurts!”

He tuts at me, “I knew you were lying about stretching. When will you listen to what I say?” 

I choke back a tear, as if it's not humiliating enough to be picked apart from my scapula to my thorax, I’m being lectured like a petulant toddler that drew on pristine white walls. 

Yushi continues, his tone sharpening as he digs into that knot, “How much time do you think I spend scrubbing through all your practice videos just for you to disregard everything I tell you?”

I struggle, but his vice-like grip on my shoulders leaves me squirming against him. I barely manage to squeeze out an apology between sniffles, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Yushi. Please.”

“Really?” 

His hands weigh me down till my knees scrape against his shoelaces, “How do you plan to make it up to me? All that time spent on you with nothing to show for it.”

I can’t even think of a response with his fingers threading between my hair, a mind-numbing amount of pressure being applied to my scalp. Yushi’s face doesn’t even hint at what he’s feeling, he looks so bored, looking down at me as if the fact that I’m half naked and on my knees is nothing to him. 

It’s humiliating. It’s humiliating how easily he grabs my face, my cheeks squishing against my tears which blur my vision. I’m babbling incoherently, as if saying his name like a prayer will restore a sliver of pity into him. He sneers at me coldly, digging his fingers into my jaw, “This is the mouth you’re using to lie to me?”

I forcefully choke a sob back, his hands still on my jaw turning my face as if he was inspecting me, checking for defects. I muster up the energy to bring my hands to the waistband of his cargo pants, “Yushi- yu- let me…”

“Let you what?”

I moan involuntarily, feeling my body betraying me as my nipples harden. A familiar wetness pools in my underwear when Yushi releases my face from his hands to unzip his pants, swatting my hands away at the same time. “I don’t think you get to touch me with your hands just yet,” he teases in that all too recognisable authoritative tone. 

“So, what should you be doing?” He says, expression unchanging, his words smirking down at me, fully aware of how its effect on me. 

Yushi must be reveling at how easily my tongue sticks out of my mouth in the depths of his sick and twisted mind, somewhere in those murky depths, it must please him to know that I am at his mercy. He releases his cock through the front hole of his boxers, not even bothering to take his underwear off, a painful reminder that he is still fully clothed while my bare back will be the first thing anyone sees if the door opens. 

Fuck. I hope no one walking by can hear us, hear the quiet squelches of his cock running against my tongue, his tip coating my lips with a mixture of my saliva and his pre-cum. He holds my head in place as he thrusts his hips slowly, letting the underside of his shaft slide forward and back on my tongue till it’s coated wet and sloppy.

I even try to suck his cock quietly, pressing my lips tightly around his length, but all Yushi does is snicker. “Scared?”, he asks as if a public indecency charge is nothing to be afraid of. Sinking my face down closer to him doesn’t do much to hide the moan that he elicits from me, all it does is let him know that he can hold my head in place and fuck into my mouth relentlessly, making sure he goes so fast that my mouth squelches against his skin. 

My chest heaves when he releases his grip on me, his dick sliding out of my mouth as I attempt to catch my breath. He even rubs his tip on my tongue, smiling in the most self-satisfied manner. “Come on, it wasn't that bad,” he strokes my hair leisurely, taking in my glassy eyes. “You look great, by the way, choking and moaning on my dick. Much better than when you’re mouthing off and lying to me, hm?” 

My stomach twists again, my breath getting caught in the back of my throat as if I hadn’t just had the oxygen fucked out of me. I don’t notice that I’m starting to whine, “You’re so mean, Yushi…”

“Am I?” He asks while holding onto the back of my head, guiding me up and off my knees. He hooks his finger on the waistband of my panties, letting it fall down my legs, “Was finding those stretching videos for you being mean? Was coming to practice earlier just to help you being mean, hm?”

“Yushi… no- I’m just saying- ”

I catch a glint of irritation as he snarls at me, “Hold your leg up.”  Without the fabric of my panties, my pussy braves the cold air and Yushi’s penetrating gaze, the wet folds glistening in the harsh overhead light. I’m whimpering, trembling like a leaf in the wind but Yushi is as unmoving as a mountain, not letting out the slightest groan of appreciation. “Yushi, this is abit mu–”

He drags his cock against my slit, letting his spongy tip flick my clit, “How are you so wet already? Haven’t even touched you, but you’re already dripping–”

God, I can see the wheels in his mind turning, turning at how needy I am, how desperately I need him in me. Yushi’s lips curl into a knowing smirk when he hears me yelp, his canines reflect a little bit of light as he changes between looking between my legs and my eyes. “Knew it. You stay up late, reading porn and touching yourself, huh? Then you come to my practice, yawning with your mouth wide open like you’re begging for dick.”

I feel my eyes prickling again, “No, Yushi nngh, please. Don’t, don't say that.”

Slap. My clit stings from his shaft hitting against it, my hips twitching from the pressure. Yushi lets the slaps of his cock on my sopping cunt punctuate his words, “You’re whining again, look at yourself, hm?"Slap "Your pussy’s twitching like it craves my dick." Slap "You’re practically gushing, baby."

My wrists strain against his hands, pawing at his chest. "Yushi," I plead. "Yushi, yuushi— " God, I can't even wrap my head around how good it feels. How being so utterly torn apart sends the right electrochemical signals to my brain that make me forget how rough the bathroom walls I'm rubbing against are. Seeing the sharp corner of Yushi's mouth curls into a smile sends another jolt to the pleasure centre of my brain.

"You ready to apologise?"

I nod profusely. Pathetically. As if I'm a dog that heard the word "treat" when he asked if I was "going to take his dick". He leads me over to the toliet, sitting down on it with an air of arrogance. Tears streak my face as I sink down on him, squeezing my eyes shut from the way I stretch around Yushi's cock. Each centimetre I gain on him earns me a soft groan from Yushi, his hands involuntarily digging into the bones of my hips.

Tensing around Yushi isn't enough, something deeper in me demanded attention. "Yushi, yushi, can I move? Please?" I choke a sob-soaked moan back when he slaps my ass in approval. There isn't enough lower back muscles in the world that could accomodate for the pace I needed my hips to move, to have his tip slam against my G-spot and to have praises roll off Yushi's tongue in whimpers and pleas.

"That's it, baby," Yushi sighs into the rhythm, thrusting up lazily. My thighs burn and my back aches chasing his tip, the upper half of my body crumpling onto his shoulders while my pussy throbs with need. I can almost feel him slipping out of me with the volume of slick leaking out of me, threatening to wet his pelvis.

"Yushi-", I'm damn near crying, "Baby, please. Please let me- lemme cum. I'll be good, I promise. Please, please please-" Forgiveness shines down on Yushi as he wraps his arms around my torso, keeping me in position as he furiously slams up into me.

"You've learnt your lesson, baby?"

"Yes- yes! yes please, Yushi… i'm— i'm gonna die. I need it so bad, hnngh…"

His self-satisfied, cheshire-cat-like smile widens, "Let go when you feel it, 'kay? I'm gonna fuck you the way you like it."

I'm teetering off the edge, clinging onto his broad shoulders using the threat of falling down onto the floor. He pumps into me like a madman, grunting together with the slaps of our skin.

"Hah— nngh, Yushi, yushi yushi."

Yushi must enjoy hearing me call out for him like a prayer, finding the strength within him to fuck into me deeper and faster with each stroke. My orgasm washes over me like an ocean wave, my legs shuddering and my head drooping forward to lean on him. He cums soon after, letting out a hushed whimper before groaning into his thrusting, pumping his cum into me.

He looks at me through his sweat-drenched hair after setting me down gently on the toliet seat, watching as my chest rises and falls with each steadying breath I take. His spend oozes out of me, spurting a little more as he plants soft kisses from my stomach to my pelvis.

"Let me take care of you, 'kay?" He asks, in such a hushed whisper that I barely catch the words.

His fingers gingerly reach into me, a shudder of my legs for each time they guide his semen out of me. His furrowed brows and razor sharp eyes boring holes into my pussy makes sure that all his cum is gone before patting me dry and helping me up into a tight hug.

His body, pressed on mine. The heat radiating from his core, the pounding of his heart, and our breathes slowy syncing with each other. The tip of his nose nudges my neck as he kisses down, "My baby, my beautiful baby."

I choke a little sob back, "Yushi… Yushi, you're so mean. You're actually the worst."