Perpetual
male reader x fromis_9's Lee Nagyung
~9k words
“Let's break up.”
You look at her who is still in her seat, hand clicking and sliding rapidly across the frictionless mousepad as she tries to weave past attacks flying towards her.
“Give me a minute, babe. Let me finish this up.”
You drag a chair from an empty cubicle behind her and sit down.
And you wait. Wait. Waited.
Your wrinkled fingers tremble. Your baggy eyes waver. Your drooping back falls lower.
You're exhausted and tired.
But it's time.
“Victory!”
A deep, booming and resonant voice announces her win directly into her ears. You don't hear anything of course, since headphones are only meant for one person’s use.
Headphones that you bought for her. A Razer Kraken Kitty V3 Pro — Quartz that cost a fifth of your meagre part-time salary. And because you were so worried that she might damage it, you even offered to yourself to add on the extended warranty for its protection of an extra three years.
Who would have known that extended warranty does not protect your already crumbling feelings for her. Your ‘friends’ have called you blind, lovesick, or a dumb idiot, among many other nastier names, but at least someone chose to be with you.
Well, you're her cash cow after all.
She doesn't need to bat her eyelashes to get that limited edition Razer Enki X Hello Kitty and Friends gaming chair that burned half a hole through your pathetic wallet. She doesn't even need to whine and pout with the sole aim of draining your monthly cheque to buy the SHEGLAM Full Collection Set when she already has a CHANEL LES BEIGES HEALTHY GLOW SUMMER ESSENTIALS makeup set at home. That one was from the courtesy of your funding too, you remind yourself.
She turns around and looks at you. She's pretty. Pretty because you have worked your sorry ass to the bone just to keep her happy. Everything on her and used by her was and is from you.
But you're going to ensure that the tense doesn't become a future one. No more gifts for her that will be coming from you.
“So, what is it babe?” she coos, this time somehow magically batting her eyelashes.
You take in her victory-drunk expression from the game match which she has just won and swallow down a non-existent glob of saliva that your malfunctioning salivary glands are producing.
“I said, let's break up.”
“Like us?” she asks, pointing her finger between you and her repeatedly.
“Yes.”
“B-But why?”
“You don't love me anyway,” you say. “Nothing you say is going to change my mind, so let's just make this a clean break.”
You immediately stand and turn to leave, in fear that if you stay any longer, you’ll actually change your mind.
“Wait! No!”
She grabs on to your arm and clings to it with both hands, shouting at you with an exaggerated cutesy voice.
“But what about that skin that you promised to buy me? I already told my friend that I’ll buy it for her, and if you leave now, I’ll be labelled as a liar!”
You freeze in your step, heart clenching in helplessness.
“There’s also my monthly subscription for the battle pass! What about that? How am I going to pay for that now? Can you pleeeeaaasseeeee not terminate the recurring payment?”
Your fists clench. Your teeth grit against each other.
“And that new keyboard that you’ve already ordered for me, you won't be cancelling it, right? It's my favourite after all.”
That's it.
You yank your hand away from her and turn to her. Your mouth opens and your chest expands, ready to launch a bombardment of accusations of how much of a money grubber she is (not an accusation, by the way), but in the end, your lips simply close to a shape just enough for a growl.
“No. I had enough.”
Her face instantly switches. From a cute puppy to a devilish three-headed hell dog reminiscent of Cerberus, she begins to berate you.
“Enough? What do you mean enough? Haven't I been giving you more than you deserve? You should be glad that I even bothered to hang out with such a loser like you. You don't even have any friends, and you should fucking consider it a blessing from god that I see you as pitiful enough to cast eyes on your loathsome self.”
You stand there and take in the verbal assault, just like how you always do when there's nobody around, except that this time, you have close to sixty pairs of curious eyes from all around the PC Bang probably scoffing at you.
“Wait…” she hums, before continuing. “I see what it is. You're mad that I haven't spread my legs for you right? All these gifts and presents bought for me, but here you are, still a virgin that can't even get any pussy.”
She gives a mocking laugh and digs her finger into your chest.
“Virgin. Loser. Pussy,” she sneers, enunciating every syllable. “I’m sooo fucking glad I haven't even allowed you to even hold my hand.”
And you, who upholds the thinking of women shouldn't be retaliated against, regardless of whether its physically, verbally, or mentally, you just stand there and soak in every negative emotion enacted upon you like a sponge. Your clenched fist relaxes but your nerves twitch. Your heart pounds and adrenaline rushes, but you divert that to calm your surging rage.
“I bet if I—”
She raises her hand and stretches her palm wide.
“—fucking slap you right here, you wouldn't even do anything about it.”
Air whooshes and she swings it down.
You close your eyes on instinct, your muscles tensing to harden your skin and soften the incoming impact.
Air graces your cheek instead of flesh.
“What the fuck—”
You slowly open your eyes and look at her.
Or them.
“Let go of me—” she yells, yanking her hand off Nagyung’s grip. She had barely managed to step in at the last second, stopping you from getting a temporary tattoo of red handprint on your cheek.
“Leave,” Nagyung steps in between the two of you. “Or I’ll call the police on you for public nuisance and disruption of businesses.”
“I’ll be fucking back,” she says, glaring at you which Nagyun had promptly shifted her face to cut her eye contact. “I’ll bring all—”
“The only thing you’ll bring is bringing your stuff back,” Nagyung declares. “You will be hereby blacklisted and banned from this internet café, as well as any of our other branches. We will however allow you one additional day to collect your—”
Nagyung points to all ‘her’ equipment that you have gifted.
“—stuff, otherwise, they will all be promptly discarded.”
“You fucking bitch!” she screams, raising her hand once again to slap Nagyung this time round.
“Leave already!” “Stop being such a bother!” “Fuck off!”
Protests and complaints from other patrons came from all around, jeering at her.
“Stupid ass café,” she grumbles, flustered at the turn of situation. “You're all in on this together.”
She turns and grabs her belongings, storming past glaring gamers with her own death glares.
“I’ll ask each and every one of my friends to review bomb this place!” she screams before the door closes, muffling her unfounded outrage.
“I apologise for the commotion,” Nagyung says, bowing deeply. “However, please be considerate to your fellow customers, otherwise, we will blacklist you like that Karen earlier.”
The café returned to its still busyness, with the sounds of keyboard buttons and mouse clickings filling the air once again.
Nagyung grabs on to your wrist and pulls you into the kitchen.
“You alright?” she asks.
“Yeah,” you answer unconfidently. “Just…”
“You don't have to explain to me. I saw everything.”
“I'm such an idiot, huh?” you mumble.
“Yeah. It was about time. I was wondering when you’ll cut her off. Why were you even trying to keep that toxic of a relationship alive?”
You fall silent, leaning back against the kitchen counter and stare at the unopened packs of ramen lined in the cabinets above through the see-through glass.
Nagyung sighs.
“You want to clock out early today?”
That knocks you out of your daze.
“N-No! I need money. I’ll have to pay for her battle pass subscription still…”
Slap.
“Ow!” you shout, rubbing the back of your head. Nagyung smacks you, and if there's one thing you know about her, it’s that she doesn't hold back.
“You’re really an idiot. If you're going to continue feeding her, why break up with her in the first place? I know you're a people pleaser, but that isn't a battle pass for people to step all over you.”
She takes in a deep breath and continues to nag.
“Why are you even allowing people to step over you? Is your dummy brain that dumb?” She placed four fingers on her forehead and shook her head in disappointment. “If you're gonna continue to do that, I'm not going to issue your salary to you anymore.”
“Hey!” you argued, your voice’s volume increasing in intensity. “I'm not an idiot. And I'm not going to work for free. Who are you to decide if I get my money or not?! This isn't even your shop. It's your parents. You're just like me, a person who’s a loser—”
You mouth snaps shut at the misspoken words, and panic wells up in you.
“I-I’m sorry. I was just—”
“Go home,” Nagyung says.
“I—”
“I said, GO HOME.”
You look at her, trying to decipher her emotions, but you learn nothing. She doesn't look angry nor sad, and obviously she doesn't look happy. You open your mouth to speak, but she simply points her finger to the locker that houses your backpack.
Raising your hands in defeat, you sigh and walk past her, grabbing your stuff before heading out.
“Hey,” Nagyung calls out.
You turn and look at her.
“Come here.”
You walk over.
“Ouch!”
She had kicked your shin so hard that the tremor travelled from your bone up your spine into your head.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, sticking her tongue out at you before walking off to the counter, accepting an order for a bowl of instant noodles.
For the first time that evening, you smile.
You walk out of the PC café, head seemingly clearer from the liberation of your now-ex girlfriend and the head shock from Nagyung’s kick.
———
And so you think.
Your wallet finally feels full after like what, six years?
You take a sip of the bitter herbal tea.
Yes. Six years. You can't believe yourself either. You had actually waited six years of financial and emotional exploitation before mustering up the courage to free yourself from the shackles of that toxic relationship.
Was it her fault?
You boot up the PC in the closed internet café.
Yes, definitely. It was totally her fault. That scum of a woman who was a money loving whore.
Right. A little too harsh on your words there, but it's a fact. She still is a money loving whore, by the way — she had sent you a text message earlier asking for some funds to a new weapon skin.
That message was ignored, of course.
You stare at the loading screen of the computer, watching the dots appearing and disappearing in a circular path as a software update installs.
But somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to hate her. Sure, she was the metal cuffs of greed that drained and milked you of your finances, but you were the one who placed them upon yourself.
Cuffed yourself up. Locked your wrists with them.
The screen switches and you key in the password. The familiar wallpaper advertising the PC café’s name greets you. Double click, and the game she always plays launches.
Anytime you could have used the keys in your hands to free yourself, to break out of your predicament, but you chose not to. You stuffed them into your pocket — your self imposed cage of your innermost desire for companionship.
A match starts. You choose a character that she always asks you to — one that only acts as a support to hers.
Perhaps you just wanted someone to be around you, to laugh, to talk, to appreciate each other without any favours or transactions that powers the relationship.
You wander around aimlessly, spamming buffs at allies randomly without a plan. A heal comes before a tank gets hit: they die because your skill is on cooldown. You buff a thief with intelligence stat instead of strength: they get deleted because their critical hit fell short of the opponent’s remaining HP.
Why do you feel so empty despite your wallet being full?
You get kicked out of the team.
The cursor hovers over the lobby’s different rooms. You pick a random one, one filled with the maximum number of players. Battle royale game mode. You ask for allies, try and form alliances. This time, you wake out of your stupor and support your team well, well enough that you and your three teammates are the last surviving players.
The elimination zone closes in towards the map’s centrepoint as the match reaches its penultimate showdown.
Four players, three ranking spots.
You four meet in an empty plaza.
You press F7 on your keyboard and start typing in the chat box.
How are we going to deci—
YOU DIED
A concentrated ice beam. A overhead guillotine drop. A barrage of missiles.
Before you can even hit the escape button and toggle out of text messaging mode, all three skills hit you squarely. Your HP bar drops to nil and the red words of death flood the screen.
Three different attacks kill you.
No.
It was only one.
An attack of betrayal.
This was premediated, no doubt. You had once again been used and discarded. Just as how your life had been like.
Perpetual giving and no receiving.
You quit the game and turn off the computer, leaning back into the chair. At least the soft cushions of your seat don't betray you.
You grab the glass and give your bitter tea its last bitter sip. It makes your tongue cringe and your mind grimace, but somehow, you feel a little better.
You need more—
“Here.”
A fresh glass of cold herbal tea appears in front of your face.
“Nakko.”
You sit up slightly, but she pushes you back onto the chair.
“Relax. We’re not at work anymore.”
She shakes the glass of tea slightly.
“Aren't you gonna take it?”
“R-Right,” you say, swapping your empty glass for the full one. “Thanks.”
“It’ll be deducted off your paycheck, by the way.”
You spit out the half sip that was already past your throat, discharging it back into the cup through the straw.
“You serious?”
“Employees are only entitled to one drink and one meal per day,” she says. “Don't tell me you forgot. You've been working here since like I was working here.”
“Fuck…” you curse, but you suckle on the straw regardless, drinking back the now saliva-contaminated-beverage.
“I’m joking. The rule is there but it can not be there,” she says, pulling a chair from the cubicle beside yours. “Why are you still here? You're usually home by now.”
“Bored. Free. Finally have some time to myself other than that bitch.”
You tap on the keyboard, playing with the buttons. You press it with every passing second, imagining how the black space on the unturned-on screen expands infinitely with every spacebar that you punch with your index finger.
Nagyung tucks her two hands under her thighs and swings her legs, looking at you with an unreadable expression.
“As you should. But why aren't you playing more?”
You close your eyes.
Your mouth opens and you want to tell her how empty you feel.
Instead, you suck in the remaining four hundred and seventy six millimetres of tea and stand up.
“Did she pick up her stuff?”
“Why are you even asking me the question?” Nagyung says. “You saw that her stuff was shifted out for her to claim when you came in. The stuff is now gone.”
She gives you the ‘it’s obviously picked up’ look.
“I was just… curious.”
Nagyung sighs and mutters.
“She did. She showed up with two males, which I assumed were her new boyfriend candidates. They helped her move everything into a truck that was driven by a third male friend before they all got in and drove off.”
You look at the arrow keys this time, playing with the left and right buttons as you tapped them alternatingly.
“Do you think she let them fuck her?”
“How would I know? Is that even important?”
“…Yes,” you mumble. “Because apparently I’m not worthy of even holding her hand.”
Nagyung stares at you, her eyes wavering slightly, unsure of what she should say.
“I should go,” you say, heading to the kitchen to grab your bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Nagyung watches you leave.
“Dummy,” she mutters.
———
“Ya, you look like shit. What the fuck happened to you?”
You look at her who enters the kitchen.
“Hey,” you mutter, casting your gaze back to the terminal and accept an order for a bowl of instant noodles.
“Have you even eaten?” Nagyung asks, donning her work apron.
You hesistate with your answer.
“Oh look, they asked for two extra eggs and three cheese sausages,” you say, diverting the topic. “Can't forget that.”
You turn to the induction stove and turn it on, placing a pot filled with water to the premarked dot that had been determined to be the secret of perfect chewiness of PC café noodles.
Water boils, noodles in, a right amount of time to cook. Not a minute more, not a second less. Seasoning in. The timer beeps and you turn off the induction, cracking two eggs in. Whilst you allow the residual heat to cook the eggs, you turn to take the sausages off the warmer and place them on a side plate.
Done.
You pour the spicy soup noodles into a bowl and garnish with a small serving of subtly sourish kimchi, then place them all onto a serving tray.
“You missed something,” Nagyung said, her arms crossed.
“I didn't.”
She raises her eyebrows and looks at you.
“Two extra eggs and two cheese sausages,” you say, pointing at each extra ordered topping. “See? One, two. Two eggs. One, two. Two cheese sausages.”
She plucks the order receipt from the holder above the countertop and presses it to your face.
“It's three,” she says, pointing at the cheese sausages. “One, two. Two cheese sausages.”
“Right. S-Sorry.”
You turn to take another sausage from the warmer, before walking out of the kitchen with the right order in your hands.
Nagyung clicks her tongue distastefully.
You walk towards the customer on the far end and serve it to him. Once you hear a hum of approval after he gives the noodles a slurp, your job is accomplished.
“Hey, could I get some potato chips?”
“I need some help with my PC here!”
Callouts reach you as you try to make your way back to the kitchen, so you attend to them.
You help a lady who has her PC frozen from opening three games. You take an order from a boy who wants ten pack of chips. You clear empty glasses and bowls onto your now empty tray.
“I need to go to the washroom,” Nagyung calls out to you. “Help me with finishing up this order!”
She takes her apron off and leaves the kitchen, leaving you scrambling back with fifty thousand things to do. You take the chips and place it on the counter — you’ll bring it out together with the other order later. You dump the dirty crockery into the dishwasher.
Phew.
Time to finish up the noodles on the stove. You take a look at the order. Same thing. Two eggs, three cheese sausages, but this one came with even more extra add ons of beansprouts and tofu slices.
You promptly cook everything and place them on the tray like a ritual, bringing it out again.
Aisle D10.
You walk in, making your way to the customer. Except that it's empty.
“What?”
You look to the cubicle beside D10 and tap on a student’s shoulder.
“Was anyone here?”
He peels off his headphones and looks at you with annoyance, seemingly irritated that you disrupted his mob farming momentum.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“What part of No do you not understand?” He rolls his eyes. “Now leave me alone.”
What a rude little—bzzt.
Your phone vibrates.
You set down the food on D10’s table and take your phone out.
You pocket your phone and settle into D10. Seconds later, you're already digging in to the noodles, chewing on the sausage, breaking the gooey yolk. She even added tofu and beansprouts to the order to make sure you have a balanced meal.
Fuck. How will you even repay her.
Halfway through the meal, you suddenly stop.
You had forgotten.
This was the exact seat that she was always using. She always used to order you to cook her meals as she played, disregarding if you were slaving away or not. She slurped her noodles here, pressed the keyboard here, and abused you here.
Your appetite is gone. You gag a little, but you decide to swallow back the minute amount of food you puked into your mouth.
Can't be dirtying the area.
You picked up the food and walked back to the kitchen, dumping everything into the wastebin.
Nagyung looks at you by the side.
You ready your ears for a beration and scolding for wasting food, but nothing comes. Nagyung just looks at you with a pair of eyes that you've seen like maybe twice? Thrice?
Point is, she rarely looks this soft and gentle.
“You alright?”
“Yea,” you answer immediately. “Why wouldn't I be?”
“Why would you be?”
“I—”
“Give me a minute.”
She walks out of the kitchen into the café and picks up a small microphone.
Ahem. Attention please. Due to an emergency, we will be closing the café in ten minutes time. We apologise for the inconvenience. As compensation, your next session here will be free of charge. Once again, we apologise for the inconvenience.
She walks back into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?!”
“Shut up.”
Nagyung shushes you and retreives a piece of paper, noting down all the customer IDs as they pack up and leave the café. She makes a mark on the paper after the last person leaves, signing off with a: Customer List for Compensation.
“Help me out, will you?”
She takes an empty tray and rag, passing it to you. Once you’ve gotten yours, she takes her own and heads out into the café, cleaning up the mess and trash that the customers left.
You walk out and join her.
You half expect her to ask you questions while the both of you work, but nothing flies your way.
Silence.
Nothing but the shuffling of feet, sounds of the chairs’ roller wheels being pushed back into place, clinking of dishes, and the clattering of keyboards buttons as you both run sanitary wipes over them.
8.32 p.m.
An hour has passed since you both started cleaning up.
You pull the rack off the dishwasher and pick up a dry cloth, wiping the water off the washed dishes.
One bowl after another. One spoon after a fork. Plates stack high, but not taller than bottle of soy sauce.
Nagyung stands there and looks at you, watching you place the last dish into the cabinet.
“So,” she finally speaks. “Fancy a walk outside?”
You look at her. You're tired. You want to go home and sleep. At least you hope that you get some sleep.
Bur you nod anyway.
She hums in approval and turns to her locker.
“C’mon, grab your coat.”
You both walk down the cool streets.
The night was just beginning as people hopped out of diners and offices, but they also stumbled into bars and clubs.
“What's with you lately?” she asks, hand stuffed into her pockets. “You've been looking so… distracted.”
“I don't know. I really don't know. I feel so… empty.”
You stare down at the square tiles that line the pavement, trying to place your foot in every tile’s dead centre with every step that you take.
Childish, you know. But that is what that interests you right now.
“I just feel lost. Not in the way you think.”
“Me?” Nagyung asks. “How would you know how I think?”
You shrug.
“I don't know. I’m thinking that you think I'm a pathetic bastard who can't think for himself now that his overbearing and manipulative girlfriend is gone.”
“Well…” Nagyung mumbles, looking at you as she weighs her words and thoughts. “I agree with the pathetic part. But unable to think for yourself? That's a hard no.”
“Tell me more,” she says. “Tell me how you actually feel.”
“I thought I would feel happy. You know? More money and time to spend on myself.”
You stop by a roadside stall that's selling spicy tteokbokki. Nagyung orders a plate and adds some soondae (bloood sausage) to it. Then you settle into the small tent by the side, waiting for the order to arrive.
“I can finally play all the games I wanted. To use all the characters I didn't have a chance to experience.”
The owner brings over the plate and sets it down on the table. The rice cakes and blood sausages are covered in spicy and sweet red sauce, and two skewer sticks are stabbed into random pieces.
Nagyung takes one stick and pokes a rice cake, popping it into her mouth. She chews the white cylindrical national dish with pondering eyes, watching and listening to you while she eats.
“But with every game I played, I hated what I loved doing even more. I was constantly reminded of how she ordered me around, how she shamelessly whined for skins, how she gets mad at me for mistakes that she makes.”
You stare at the red plate, red equally flooding your eyes and chest.
“I didn't want to play anymore games. Not when it reminds me of her.”
“That I understand. But what about your meals? I can't be having a skeleton serve my customers, right?!”
“I’m afraid I’ll vomit if I do.”
“What? Are you not going to eat because instant noodles remind you of her?”
“They do…”
Nagyung sighs and pokes a piece of blood sausage, passing it to you.
“Eat.”
You look at the purplish-brown slice that's covered with red sauce. Nagyung shakes it slightly, nudging the piece towards you with a go on look.
You take the stick from her and put the food in your mouth.
You chew. You swallow. Chew and swallow, chew and swallow.
You chew and swallow.
The next thing you know, you're theee quarters through the plate, and Nagyung had unknowingly pushed it towards you.
“I-I'm sorry, Nakko,” you stutter, flustered at how you had basically ‘stole’ her share of the food.
“You're really an idiot,” she smiles, propping head up by the chin as she puts her elbows on the table. “I bought it for you, so eat it all up. Don’t choke.”
She looks at you with soft eyes as you slow your wolfing down of the food.
“Does fucking her really matter for you?” she asks.
You look at her, taken aback by the sudden interrogation, but you answer anyway. You've been close to Nagyung since god knows when, and talk about such matters was never something you both shyed away on.
“Not really,” you say, poking another piece of rice cake. “I just wanted to be… appreciated.”
She nods her head and just listens to you, taking in all your inner feelings and thoughts.
“You know, I used to think to myself. Am I really such a detesta—”
“Say, wanna do something else?” Nagyung cuts in. “It's Friday night. I know I did a diabolical thing and closed the café when there's so much money to be earned, but I guess I needed a break too.”
You stare at her blankly, since you too were taken aback by her actions.
“What could we do?”
“I don't know, something to distract yourself? There's an arcade a little down the road. Wanna hit that up?”
Arcade. It's been a while since you visited one. It's a money sucking land, but somehow, you're already deep into a claw machine, donating your seventeenth dollar coin to them profit makers.
Nagyung’s by your side, cheering you on, squealing useless directions she wants you to move the joy stick for the optimal clawing position. And of course like 99.8375% of attempts, the empty box of iPhone 17 Pro Max gets shifted a few inches before dropping back among the unobtainable stash of desirable treasures.
“And it's a net loss,” you declared, raising your hands in defeat.
“I really wanted it though,” she chuckles.
“Why do you even want an Apple product? There's like no room for self customisation.”
“What? I want it so that I can sell it, of course,” she giggles. “Why would I want a phone when I already have one that's perfectly fine.”
“You can't say that, you know?” you say. “You better go touch some wood, otherwise, the next thing you know, your phone is gonna spoil.”
“I never believe in such things,” Nagyung says, but she's already touching every possible wooden surface in the arcade.
She looks at the spoils for today: one generous keychain of a simple pink heart.
“I want it.”
“You can have it. I’ll be labelled as a gay under societal norms if I hang that on my bag.”
She bursts out laughing.
“Who says you need to hang girlie stuff to look like a gay. What makes you think you aren't already one?”
“Ya,” you curse at her, but somehow, how just break into a smile.
“Feeling better already?” Nagyung asks.
“Thanks,” you say, nodding.
“Let's head back,” she says. “I have more things planned for you.”
When you’re back at the café, Nagyung promptly turns on enough lights to make sure things are at least visible. She brings you to booth D10, which is apparently your nemesis right now.
She sits you down and boots up the computer, before taking her place in front of a PC beside yours.
“What is this?” you ask, your face already uneasy from being in this spot.
“We play.”
“I don't want to.”
“Hey, look at me.”
You don't. You just stare at the keyboard. Looking at the letters on the keys. Your mind keeps thinking of how she would not even bother to look at you and command you to do things. Your mind keeps thinking about the keyboard she made you buy. The mouse she wanted. The headphones that costed nothing to her.
It reminds you of—
“Look at me.”
Nagyung’s voice snaps you out of your trance. She grabs your hand, what the hell this is so weird, she's your best friend why would she grab your hand, but you don't pull away.
“You're just escaping,” she says, holding your hand tight. “I know you love playing games. I know you love eating instant noodles here. Are you going to let your love for what you love disappear? That doesn't seem very fair to yourself, right?”
“Uh… Nakko,” you mutter.
“Hmm?”
“Why are you holding my hand right now?”
“W-Well, you’ve been harping about how your stupid ex never lets you hold her hand, so I thought I would let you hold mine. Why? Are my hands not worthy? Are they not to your liking?”
“Yes. Wait I mean no! No!”
You squeeze her fingers tight.
“It's just, we aren't anything but friends, so wouldn't it be weird if we like… do this?”
“R-Right.”
She releases her hands from yours and turn to her monitor, muttering something under her breath.
“It’s not like you cared when you held my hands when we were small kids anyway.”
“What was that?” you ask.
“N-nothing,” she diverts. “Anyway, point being, don't stop doing something you love just because it reminds you of something bad. If anything, shouldn't you forge happier memories to replace them?”
You lean back onto the chair, taking in Nagyung’s words as you look at the screen.
“Are you gonna wallow in the past and stay unhappy perpetually?”
You close your eyes and ponder for a second. Many seconds.
Right. Maybe it is time to let myself be free.
“Nakko.”
You open your eyes and look at her.
“Thanks.”
“Dummy,” she says, smiling at you cutely. “Boot it up. We’ll play some matches together.”
A few moments later you're already deep into the game, blasting enemies to death with your mini-alliance with Nagyung. You both die early once, unable to do a thing except for spending the next twenty minutes watching how the rest of the game pan out. In another, you both manage to survive until the end, to which you rock paper scissored her and lost, so you let her kill you to take the number one spot.
But she disconnects from the game and lets you win.
“Then what was the point of me throwing scissors and you paper?” you say.
“You're stupid,” she says, rolling her eyes and bleps at you. “Men are supposed to always throw rock. You're the dummy for throwing a scissors.”
Games continue into the night, and by the time your stomachs are growling, time has passed into the domain of pre-morning where you both should be getting your daily dose of REM sleep. But who the fuck cares when you're having the time of your life. You can't even remember when you had so much fun or smiled this wide.
“I’m hungry,” Nagyung said, raising her arms up high as she stretches with a unholy moan. “Instant noodles?”
“Bet.”
You both stand and walk to the kitchen, only to be dismayed by the fact that there are no instant noodles left.
“Right,” Nagyung sighs. “Stock comes in tomorrow.”
“Bummer.”
“Alcohol? I got some beer stashed in here.”
“I’ll pass. We still have work tomorrow. Plus, I don’t want to get drunk and do stupid things.”
“Oh? What kind of stupid things?”
“N-Nothing. I mean, obviously stupid things like vomitting all over the place, falling onto the ground. Definitely not things like kissing or touching you or anything.”
“You sure?”
“Yea. I wouldn’t do that to you. Much less my best friend.”
“Wow. I’m offended. Am I that unattractive to you?”
“What? No! You're pretty, you're hot… hell, you're one of the hottest women I know. I don't even know why you aren't doing modelling or anything.”
Nakko puffs her chest up and flicks her hair backwards.
“Guess you have some conscience left in you.”
This time, you let your eyes linger. The colorful top hugs her figure, exposing the gentle curve of her shoulders and the sliver of skin above her shorts. Her long caramel hair hangs effortlessly around her, but your eyes draw towards her toned belly and the smooth expanse of her milky legs.
She's always been beautiful, but somewhere along the way, you don’t know when, your eyes had stopped seeing her as your best friend and quietly started seeing a woman.
“You're drooling.”
Your hand snaps to your mouth, wiping away nothing.
“Don't tease me, you shit.”
She laughs and opens the fridge, bending down to take two packets of milk. You swear she jutted her ass out towards you. Not exactly purposeful, but subtle enough for you to notice.
She chucks it to you.
You catch it and poke the straw in, taking a small sip of the cool liquid cream.
“Say, did you really love her?”
Nagyung shifts towards you and stands by your side, leaning against the counter.
“Love… I don't really know. She was the only one who approached me after all.” You swirl the packet of milk in your hands, looking at it as if you can see through the opaque carton. “Rather than love, maybe I think it was more like I was just accepting anyone who showed interest in me.”
You give the carton a big sip, drinking away your sorrows with the non-alcoholic calcium supplement.
“Now that I look back, I was really such an idiot huh. I had someone who really cared about me, but I didn't think much of it.”
Nagyung put down her milk and stared at her shoes.
“What am I to you?”
You put down your milk and also stare at your shoes.
“A friend. My best friend. My only friend who has been my best friend since forever. I'm afraid. I'm afraid of losing the only thing I have left.”
“Why would you?” Nagyung mumbles.
“Because I think I like you more than a friend. You've been with me for so long that I was just blind of your existence to me.”
Bzzt.
Your phone vibrates. You pull it out and it's a call from your ex. You pick up.
“Hey.”
“About damn time you picked up. When will you send me my keyboard? Oh and also the subscription for the battle pass next mon—”
“You money grubbing bitch.”
“What the fu—”
“Yeah you. You think I want to hold your hand? You think I want to kiss you? Even if you spread your legs, I wouldn't even look at you. I'm sorry, but I'm not attracted to narcissistic mosquitoes.”
“The fuck are you talking about? Who would even—”
“It's me, you bitch.”
Nagyung snatches the phone from you.
“Why? Are you jealous? Are you mad that your money cow is going somewhere else? If only you could see us right now. I'm holding his fucking hand. Maybe even hands. He's mine, you got it. He's mine and mine and mine forever. And you? You can go suck those three pussy thirsting gooners who want nothing other than to get in your pants. And guess what? Those gooners won't stay with a slut like you. Unlike you, my relationship with him will be perpetual. So fuck off.”
Beep.
She hangs up the call.
“That was… quite the speech,” you mutter, looking down at her fingers that were and are still threaded around yours. “So, what are we now?”
“Whatever you want us to be,” Nagyung says.
You stare at her silently, the words she had just spewed to your ex downloading into your mind.
“Nakko. I don't want to be your friend anymore. Nor do I want you to be my friend. I want you.”
She looks at you with a raised eyebrow, egging you to continue.
“I’ve been perpetually in love with you, but I just didn't want to admit it. I know you like me, but I didn’t trust my judgement. I just wanted your—”
Nagyung cups your face and smashes her lips onto yours.
She holds on to your tongue with her lips, her own flicking and swirling around yours as she kisses you hard. She steals your breath, your saliva, and your sanity, drinking them in as if it were what she had wanted since god knows when.
And you think you're god, because you've known it since forever, but you were just lying to yourself. The fuse has been lit, the bullet has been shot. You have now progressed past friends and handholding, and you want more.
You moan into her lips.
“Nakko…”
She licks your lips harder and digs into your mouth deeper.
“I want more.”
She pulls you off her, a thick string of saliva connecting between you two.
“I need more.”
“Then take me.”
You press your body forward, but she holds you off.
“Not here. I don't want our first time to be in this god damned kitchen.”
She holds on to your hand.
Fuck. It's the third time this night, or dawn, or pre-morning, whatever. It’s the third time your hand was held this night alone, and it feels so damn good. It makes your heart warm and fuzzy, and you feel as if you won't ever be alone again.
She guides you out of the kitchen into D10, settling into the seat.
“Tell me,” Nagyung says. “Tell me what you love about me.”
“You're so kind—”
“Shhh. Not those. I already know why you fell in love with me. I want to know what you love about me. Tell me what you were thinking when you stared at me earlier.”
You stand over her and bent down, breathing hot into her lips, forehead presses against hers. You lean in and give her a small peck.
“You have the cutest face when you get mad.”
You lean in again, this time suckling her neck.
“You give me the hottest stares when you get mad.”
Nagyung raises her head as you attack her sensitive spots, humming softly.
“How can I be cute and hot at the same time,” she gasps, feeling you plant kisses down her neck to her shoulder bone, which was already kindly exposed courtesy of her off-shoulder outfit.
“Ask yourself,” you say, snaking your fingers into the hem of her top and peeling it down. You pull off her bra at the same time, letting the fabric bunch just below the curvature of her underboob.
“Perfect,” you mumble, already latching your mouth onto one tit. “Cute and hot like your face.”
Her back arches off the chair, hands clinging onto the arm rest as she shakes from the pleasure of being suckled. You draw circles around her nipples with your tongue, teeth grazing them lightly to give her a virgin dose of pain-pleasure.
“Tell me more,” she rasps.
You stick out your tongue and leave a trail of saliva down to her belly, spreading oral slime all over her toned abdomen. You kiss it with wet smacks, worshipping her like you've wanted this for so long.
“Fuck. You tummy, it's so tight. It tastes just like how I’ve imagined.”
“Y-You idiot. If you've been thinking and fantasising about me for so long, what took you so long?”
“I don't know. I don't care. I just know I need you right now.”
“Then take me.”
You grab on to her shorts and pull it down, throwing the obstructing fabric to the side. What's left is just a pair of laced thongs, the pink translucent sheer fabric doing nothing to cover the wetness of her pulsating core. You lean in to give a small lick, tasting her sweet tartness through the cloth.
“I can taste your desperation, Nakko.”
You pull and peel the panty to the side, and the smell of her sex wafts into your nostrils.
You dive in.
The first broad lick has her mouth open. A second swipe makes her groan. The third slurp makes her toes curl. You draw symbols of pleasure with your tongue, digging into her cunt like its a shovel excavating gold.
Her pussy is a trove. A treasure trove of unexcavated potions that have been reserved just for you. You stab your tongue deep and flick a moan out; carve it right to harvest a grunt; swirl in curves to draw a squelch; swat down to force a stream out.
Up. Down. Left. Right. Circle. Square. Triangle. Cross.
You draw her cunt with your tongue as if you're keying into a controller the cheat code for her pussy juice, and it fucking works because you can't drink without stop.
Not a single drop can go to waste.
At this point, your lips are drenched. You pull them off her lips to which she gives a cutesy whine of disappointment, but you immediately force that back into her as you stuff her full again with a finger.
Then a second. A third. Soon, her pussy is gaping with your hand resting within its confines.
“Y-You’re stretch me so wide…” she moans, her eyelids fluttering as her pussy quivers around you. “She won't hold your hand. So… so I’ll hold yours. I’ll hold yours with my hand.”
She grabs your other hand and presses it into her mouth, sucking on your fingers hard.
“I’ll hold yours with my mouth.”
She looks at you and grunts.
“Look at it.”
You look.
Her folds are pulled taut on either side of your hands, and an endless amout of lubricant flows out of her sex hole.
“And I’ll hold yours with my pussy.”
Her words set you off. You curl and twist your fingers, feeling how she grips your hand like they're begging you to never let go, but you're also begging for her to not do so either.
Squelch. Splosh. Squish.
You fingers dance around and inside her like you're carving the juices out of her, and you're succeeding. Her toned belly starts to clench and relax. Her breath starts to grow ragged. Her nipples turn impossibly hard.
“I’m gonna cum,” she mewls, hands reaching for you, but she's too submerged in bliss that she clambers at nothing. She settles for the inhuman arms of the chair and cums.
Her pussy explodes as she orgasms, clenching down on you with crushing force as you work her through. She whines and squeals in ecstasy, juices flowing out of her without stop until her orgasm wanes into a hibernating hum.
You pull your hand out of her soaked pussy.
“You're a squirter,” you whisper in awe.
“Shut up, dummy,” Nagyung rasps in a trembling voice, but she's smiling. “I want more.”
She stands up and turns you around, pushing you into where she just sat. The cushion is wet, but that's the least of your concern. She unbuckles your belt with urgency and tugs your pants down, removing them and throwing it to the side. At the same time, you take pull off your shirt and drop it to the ground.
Your cock is already at its full length, swollen and angry at the lack of attention you both gave it.
Nagyung wraps one hand around it and gives it a few shallow strokes, feeling your intense hardness.
“You're so hard,” she marvels, drawing her hand up from base to tip.
“If it’ll make you feel more confident, I’ve never gotten this fucking hard for her.”
She trembles at your words, leaning into your ear and whispers.
“You hate this place, don't you? Don't worry about it. I’ll make this become your favourite place after tonight.”
She stands and walks to your pants, taking out your phone from within your pocket.
“Let's be cheeky,” she says, turning on your phone. “Password?”
“…”
“Password?”
“Your birthday.”
Nagyung giggles.
“Wow. Like wow. That, made me super turned on. I'm going to milk my cock so fucking hard.”
Your cock twitches from her declaration.
She unlocks your phone and calls your ex, setting it down on the desk beside.
“What the fuck do you want, loser? Are you going to apologise for what that stupid girl said to me?”
Nagyung smirks and stands over you, climbing up onto the chair. She rests her feet on either sides of your thighs, settling between the tight gaps of the cushioned seat.
“If you're going to apologise, I only take cash. Maybe two hundred? Since I'm kind—”
A moan rips through the air.
Your mind reels as Nagyung lowers her pussy down, swallowing your cock whole as she snugs her pussy walls around your shaft.
“—the fuck was that?!”
You grunt as Nagyung impales herself fully onto you, revelling in the sensation of being filled to the brim fucking with both the rationality in her cunt and her mind. She doesn't even give herself time to adjust to your size. She just bends forward and lifts her hips, drawing you out of her cunt. The moment your tip is the only thing left in her, she slams herself back down.
Slap.
As if she's reading your mind, she moans into your ears.
“I don't need to adjust. I’ll let your cock fuck the adjusting into me.”
As if the meat entering and exiting her is not enough, she smirks and bites onto your shoulder, nibbling on your flesh like it’s a piece of delicacy.
“Are you both fucking? How dare you call me when you are having sex?”
“Fuck—your cock feels so good inside of me,” Nagyung cries in pleasure. She straightens her back and grabs on to your hands, once again threading her fingers between yours.
“Gosh your hands feel so big and warm around mind. Fuck, if only she knew what she missed out on.”
“Fuck you both—”
“Kiss me,” Nagyung demands.
You pull her towards you and smash your lips on hers, eating her oral cavity with a voracious appetite.
She moans into your mouth exaggeratedly, letting the muffled and wet smacking fill the air, all while she slams her tight cunt down onto your cock. The sounds of depravity transmits through the microphone of your phone, amd the next thing you know, a soft moan comes through the speaker.
“Please… more…”
You let go of her hands and grip her voluptuous chest, squishing and kneading her soft mounds that rests perfectly in your hands.
“Your tits… they're so soft and perfect. Nothing like hers.”
You lean in and suckle on one, the now free hand snaking to her waist. Gripping tight, you pull her down onto you with more force, pushing your cock further into her, albeit not much.
However, that extra few millimeters strike her most sensitive spot.
Nagyung cries out in pleasure as you pound into her depths, pushing her voice past her limits as she screams and moans and mewls and squeals, saliva drooling out of her open mouth as her eyes roll to the back of her skull.
Her mind is a haze as you assault her pussy, sending her on the path to another orgasm.
She cums.
Her hand slaps your chest in need for more, begging for you to fuck her harder, to give her everything that should have belonged to her instead of the money grubbing bitch.
“Fuck… I bet your cock would feel so good in me too… nghhh…”
Your ex moans through the phone, but you treat it as an erotic backtrack that only serves to drive both your libidos higher.
You stand and flip push Nagyung onto the table, pressing her back into the desk as you kiss her hard. Your chest press against her tits and her hands scramble for support, knocking your phone onto the ground and several PC equipment off their balances, but neither of you care.
Your cock needs no help. You simply push forward, and the unimaginable hardness of your cock guides itself back into the scorching hot confines of her pussy, and you hammer into her with an agenda.
To make her yours forever.
“I think I'm going crazy for you, Nakko.”
You're reply with a soft moan and lust-drunk eyes.
“I think I’m stupidly in love with you, Nakko.”
You receive legs that wrap around your back.
“And I think I want to cum inside of you.”
She looks at you with glassy eyes and nod.
“Fuck me with your thick, fat cock. Make my pussy yours and yours only. Shoot your thick hot cum until I'm loaded with all your baby batter.”
Her words act like a spell, and you groan and thrust into her wanton cunt like nothing matters. Her pussy squelches as juices overflow from another orgasm, slicking your cock up only for you to pull and push harder.
“Nakko, please.”
She stares into your eyes and nod desperately.
“Please stop being my perpetual friend.”
You grab on to her hand and take her lips.
“Please be my perpetual lover.”
With a grunt, you roar and cum inside of her, filling her womb full of your white seed. Ropes and ropes of cum shoots out of your slit, painting and coating her walls like a promise that you’ll give to her for eternity.
When you're done, you collapse back onto the chair, your cock pulled out of her tenderised and swollen snatch with a wet plok. You watch as your cum flows out of her, pooling onto the table, but she reaches her finger down, scooping it up and stuffing it back into her pussy.
“I need more,” she whispers. “Plug me full again and make sure none of it ever comes out.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry. Please, will you let me fuck your coc—”
You pick up your phone and hang up, proceeding to block her number.
You turn to her and look at the clock.
2.36 a.m.
“We open at 11,” Nagyung says. “Don't worry. We have plenty of time. And if you want, we could close the shop for another day. I have craved you since forever.”
You smile and rush forward to give her another kiss, pushing your now hard cock back into her creamed cunt again.
“This is now my favourite spot. And you're now my favourite food.”
And that—
Nagyung points to the pink heart keychain hanging off her bag in the kitchen.
—is my favourite keychain now.
