☙.꩜ Summary: with a traumatic past, San unlocks a new level of insanity after committing a crime as a teenager. Now free, he uses all his potential to keep you, his only piece of heaven, even if it means staining his hands dark red.
☙.꩜ Pairing: Psycho!San x afab!reader
☙.꩜ Genre: [+18] angst, thriller (guess i can put it that way), romance, smut
☙.꩜ Warnings: MDNI!; dark themed; psychopath san; abuse and trauma; mommy issues; alcoholism; patricide; violence; mentions of blood, MURDERS, no regrets of doing it; description of dismemberment; concealment of a body; lack of humanity; San's idea of love is controversial and arbitrary (he can be and will be totally self-centered); detention (san kinda in prision but not prision); making out; eventual smut; oral; some weird things; manipulation; toxic behavior; possessiveness and obsessiveness; it may have sexism and corrupted view of women (not what i stand for); may be too sensitive for some audiences, sooo... MORE TO BE ADDED!
THIS IS ONLY FICTIONAL AND DO NOT REPRESENT WHAT ANYBODY MENTIONED ARE IN REAL LIFE NOR HOW DO I PICTURE THEM!
☙.꩜ Taglist (open): @hokuuu @deokityu @ithinkthereforeidont
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
The sky was dark, night had already fallen, and by this time San should've been winding down for bed if he wanted to wake up fully rested.
But unlike his neighbors, who spent the rest of their evening with family, doing normal things, and just going to sleep, San was relentlessly hacking away at the floor inside the shed, carving jagged holes into the ground.
Right then, even though his body desperately needed rest, his hormones were surging. His neurotransmitters were firing chemical wave after chemical wave, keeping him wired and alert as if he’d just taken a shot of adrenaline.
The veins map-lined his skin, bulging across his entire body. He was in such a manic frenzy that he couldn't even feel his arms going numb. On the contrary, he couldn't stop.
He was definitely making a ton of noise with the pickaxe, catching the attention of a neighbor or two who grew curious about what the hell was going on at this time of night. A mistake, honestly.
If any of them had decided to call the cops to file a noise complaint, San would be in deep trouble. He'd be caught red handed with those barrels and the severed head he’d placed on the top metal shelf like some kind of trophy for a job well done.
He just got lucky that he stopped bothering them just in time, dropping the pickaxe and switching to the shovel just as pitch black darkness completely took over the sky outside.
His bare torso was drenched in sweat and dirt. Perspiration poured from his forehead, dripping heavily enough to fill a pitcher. His face was twisted and tense, his eyebrows knitted together, his eyes sharp, and his pupils dilated.
San kept up the frantic pace until he completely exhausted himself in the dead of night.
He felt a sharp twinge in his forearm, his muscle throbbed and twitched as the sheer weight of that massive physical exertion finally hit him like a physical blow.
The shed floor was now a total mess, cratered and torn up haphazardly, exposing the raw, damp smell of the freshly churned earth.
Still, San didn't care about aesthetics, it wasn't like he was putting it on display. It didn't need to look professional, it just needed to be functional, to serve its purpose.
He breathed heavily, his ragged pants breaking the silence as he carelessly tossed the shovel aside. Standing in the middle of the shed, he stared blankly at what he’d just done, gazing into the hole he dug. The light had completely left his eyes. He let himself be swallowed by the silence that now blanketed the room, as if that chaotic scene were orbiting around him.
He was exhausted, and there was still a long way to go. Now, he had to rest whether he wanted to or not. He still needed enough sleep to wake up early, and besides, the sooner he drifted off, the sooner tomorrow would start. He had a lot of work ahead of him, after all, he obviously wasn't going to dig that deep overnight.
Defeated, San left the shed and headed through the backyard to get inside the house. As he walked through the kitchen, his footsteps left tracks of dirt falling from his filthy shoes. His gaze remained hollow, focused solely on crossing the living room and heading upstairs.
His silhouette blended into the darkness of the rooms. He walked at a calm, unhurried pace, as if he hadn't just spent countless hours out in the yard, finally letting his body move without the adrenaline that had been racing faster than his own thoughts. He climbed the stairs without even feeling his feet press against the steps, wandering up like a ghost.
When he reached his bedroom, he collapsed onto the bed without bothering to shower. He just lay there, letting the mattress cradle his back, sticking to the sweat and grime.
The crust of filth formed by his bodily fluids and the dark earth felt almost like a second skin, a suit of clothes he was wearing at that moment. San let his body go limp and stared at the ceiling. Just before his eyes closed and sleep washed over him, he felt so devoid of emotion and thought that he resembled a machine simply recharging its battery.
His fingernails were black and his fingers caked in dust, forming a dark layer that made them look like an animal's paws.
Grains of dirt scattered across the bed while San slept soundly, curled up with the remnants of his frantic rush.
Tomorrow he’d have a lot of work to do, and a lot to burn through, too.
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
You had hoped you’d get to see San before the end of the day. You’d been a nervous wreck, replaying everything that happened on your date and thinking about how San had managed to calm your storm and put you at ease.
He was still your Sannie. He was still your best friend, and you still knew him inside and out. And now, you couldn't get him out of your head.
Hongjoong wasted no time calling you the second you let him know you were home. The two of you talked for hours about everything. Hongjoong didn't miss a single chance to tease you about the kiss, knowing exactly how to make you blush like a schoolgirl.
Some things never change.
Still, as the hours ticked by, you found yourself missing San. You couldn't tell if you were just being too clingy and moving too fast, or if San was actually being distant after everything.
It could've just been in your head. After all, he worked full-time and you had college. Plus, he was at the butcher shop with Yeosang, so it wasn't like he had all the time in the world to just sit around on his phone.
And neither did you, honestly. You got lucky that your professor was in a good mood and didn't ride your case like usual, especially since your mind was completely somewhere else the morning after the date.
Hongjoong and Seonghwa were quick to notice that your mind was drifting off to San.
"Aw, look at our girl, all grown up and in love," they teased, getting a kick out of your expression as you rolled your eyes and lightly shoved their shoulders. Seonghwa even joked about how you had a different aura around you, saying you looked like you’d just gotten laid.
But you knew they were just messing with you. There was no way you were that rattled over a single date. Right?
Thinking about it only seemed to stir up more feelings. Your friends always brought you back down to earth, dragging you out of the trance you'd been stuck in all day.
Even though you and San texted here and there throughout the day and it seemed like you were both just busy, you knew your mind was working on overdrive. On the outside, though, you were frozen in time, just standing there like a doll.
And even when you told San you were out with your friends, you were so checked out, in reality, that you were barely paying attention to them.
Little did you know that inside, San was practically exploding with jealousy, plotting all kinds of ways to get rid of Hongjoong.
Your friend, however, suggested you meet up with San again, preferably that very day. He figured it might help release some of the anxiety building up while you waited to see him again, though Hongjoong strongly advised you to take a deep breath and get your head straight first.
It wasn't good to be like this, it wouldn't be healthy for you or for San. The world wasn't ending, you’d have plenty of time with him later. You were just riding the high of everything that had happened, so it was really just a textbook case of separation anxiety.
You needed to focus a bit on what was happening around you for now, and you agreed. He was right. You were a grown woman, a simple date with your childhood best friend, one that unearthed deep-seated feelings and ended in a kiss full of warmth and affection, shouldn't be completely consuming your every thought.
But San didn't reply to your messages for the rest of the day. It didn't help that you already had so many pent-up emotions, practically aching for him.
You tried not to overthink it, that was never a good idea. You both had things to do. Life isn't a teen movie, and he was definitely dealing with a lot.
Of course, he’d just gotten back and still had a whole complicated situation to sort out, on top of getting everything lined up with a new job to move forward with his life. God, you were being so stupid...
You stopped bothering him with double texts and tossed your phone onto the bed, having absolutely no clue that San had been out in his backyard digging a hole for countless hours, his mind so clouded he didn't even remember his phone existed.
It wasn't until the next morning that San finally replied to all your messages and questions, apologizing for dropping off the grid. He really hadn't meant to disappear for so many hours, but he couldn't explain why, it was still too soon for you to understand. So, he just told you he’d been helping Wooyoung with an emergency.
Your face fell for a split second.
You wondered if San had reconnected with him the same way he had with you when he got back. They’d always been close friends, though San never treated you any differently and never made you feel left out.
Yet, despite your mutual friend, you and Wooyoung had never really exchanged more than a few words. If it weren't for San, Wooyoung might as well have been invisible to you.
It had come as a total surprise when Wooyoung approached you at a party, one Hongjoong had dragged you to, a while after everyone had lost touch with San and you’d started college.
You never imagined the two of you could have anything in common besides San, but that didn't stop Wooyoung from rambling on about absolutely nothing while you just stared at him, clueless as to how to steer the conversation into something meaningful.
It seemed cute at first. You even thought he might just be trying to get to know you since you ran in the same circles, but you were completely shocked when he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his body.
You had no idea what part of the conversation made him think you were giving him that kind of green light, but he didn't seem intimidated at all when you pushed him away with a hand to his chest. In fact, he seemed to find it funny.
He just thought it was an amusing little challenge that you were trying to play hard to get. You remembered perfectly well how those words traveled from his mouth straight to your ears, making your eyes go wide and your brow furrow in sheer disbelief. You tore yourself away from him completely, pushed through the crowd, and headed straight for the bathroom.
You didn't know if Wooyoung had those intentions from the start or if he just decided to be a sleaze once his friend wasn't around you anymore.
Either way, hitting on you felt incredibly messed up. Back then, you couldn't quite connect the issue to what you felt for San and your close relationship, but now, it felt entirely right to call Wooyoung's behavior what it really was: a betrayal.
You’d lost touch with San without ever being able to properly sort out your feelings and let them flow. But now, you knew exactly what was going on, and it definitely wasn't just some silly teenage friendship. Everything finally clicked.
But Wooyoung hitting on you behind San's back wasn't even the worst thing he did. No, the worst part was when he followed you to the bathroom and tried to kiss you, which earned him a sharp slap across the face. He hissed at the impact of your palm against his skin, clapping a hand over his cheek to soothe it while muttering curses under his breath.
He looked pissed about the slap, but he didn't push it any further. Wooyoung gave you one last look before walking away and finally leaving you alone. However, the day after the party, you found out that Wooyoung was telling his friends, and some of the acquaintances who invited him to those parties, that he had slept with you.
A visceral hatred sparked inside you. Your blood boiled in your veins, and you were in utter disbelief that Wooyoung was capable of inventing something so stupid for something so petty. You had a bitter taste in your mouth, it was deeply humiliating that some guy was bragging about something that never even happened, throwing your name around like you were some slut.
It would have been infuriating even if it had actually happened, what right did he have to brag about you like you were just some object anyway? And for what, if not to stroke his own ego?
Hongjoong and Seonghwa found out about the rumors. Hongjoong even offered to go confront him and demand answers, but you wouldn't let him. And it wasn't that you didn't want to teach him a lesson or call him out. You were just so rattled by the whole thing, and deep down, a lingering fear that he might take things even further if you pissed him off again kept you paralyzed.
You felt awful. You didn't want to feel like a coward, but you just preferred to let the dust settle and make sure people didn't see you anywhere near Wooyoung for even a second. Even though he’d been a total jackass and shocked you with everything it entailed, you'd be lying if you said he hadn't managed to embarrass you.
You preferred to keep believing that, sooner or later, he’d get what he deserved. Eventually, he’d mess with the wrong person and wouldn't get off scot-free. But you held your ground with your friends by your side and moved past it. He hadn't spread it to that many people anyway.
Still, you couldn't help but feel a lingering wave of nausea whenever you thought of him. He was pathetic. Even after graduating and working as a fully grown adult, he kept going to college parties like a total loser. You shouldn't have expected much from him.
These days, you barely ever saw him around, except for the occasional run-in at the same spots near your parents' house, and that last party where San was also there.
Did he tell San something too, or did he leave that lie in the past? Telling other people was one thing, but telling San of all people would be a completely different story, especially now.
You hoped it hadn't even crossed his mind after all this time, but a part of you was still anxious.
And as for San... would he believe Wooyoung, or would he believe you?
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
When the alarm went off, signaling it was time to get up with a shrill, grating ring, San pressed his hands to his temples. He massaged them, feeling a dull headache coming on as he pulled himself up and sat on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling over the side.
He took a few slow, quiet breaths, resting his head in his hands for a moment before dragging himself out of bed and shuffling into the bathroom. There, he finally took a shower and scrubbed the dirt out from under his fingernails.
San was still groggy and his body ached. As he washed himself, he noticed small scrapes and superficial cuts that he hadn't even realized he’d gotten the night before.
While getting dressed, he mentally checked off a list of everything he needed to put into motion as soon as possible. He didn't want to waste any more time, years had already gone by, and now every single day felt like he was just burning daylight.
It might look rushed to anyone else, but they would never understand San. They hadn't gone through what he went through.
He knew the smart thing to do was to take it slow, but a part of him was craving the now.
Still, he couldn't just give in to all his instincts. Even if he wanted to, he had to take things one step at a time, and his priority right now was buying what he needed to finish what he’d started in the backyard.
Though he was feeling incredibly overstimulated, it warmed him up a bit inside when he saw that you had blown up his phone with messages.
It left San more than satisfied.
He hadn't wanted to ignore you, but everything he was doing was for the sake of the two of you. He replied to your texts while eating breakfast, leaning against the kitchen counter. The sugar from the cereal dissolved into the milk, turning the liquid thick and sweet, as if the cereal weren't sugary enough already.
You were already awake by the time he texted back, so the two of you chatted during the few moments San had before heading out to work.
His brow furrowed in suspicion when, out of nowhere, you asked if he and Wooyoung had gotten close again like they used to be.
He didn't get where the sudden curiosity was coming from, so he chose to give an evasive answer. He kept things vague, he felt suspicious that you were bringing up Wooyoung so out of the blue, especially since San had only used him as a cover story for what he’d really been up to last night.
If it had been just a harmless question, you should've asked it the moment he mentioned being with his friend. Instead, you decided to bring him up long after the topic had changed, while talking about other things entirely. It put a doubt in San’s mind, because it meant you’d been sitting there, dwelling on it.
And if you were, why on earth were you thinking about Wooyoung? It was enough to ruin San’s mood first thing in the morning.
As if the whole situation with Hongjoong wasn't enough, now you wanted to know about Wooyoung. San couldn't understand how you could be so disrespectful to him like that.
Maybe, after everything, you needed a reality check about your own actions. He felt a nagging sense of disappointment in you, he’d come back home aching for you, carrying years of bottled-up feelings, only to find out that the girl he loves couldn't even do the bare minimum, which was to wait for him.
He didn't want to get angry with you, he really didn't, but you weren't exactly giving him a choice.
You knew Wooyoung had always been his friend, you were fully aware of that. Why were you suddenly asking if they were close again, as if it weren't obvious? It didn't make sense, unless you were worried about something.
During his break, you and San agreed to meet up after his shift. The rest of his workday was exceptionally dull, nothing worth mentioning, and his interactions with Yeosang were strictly surface-level.
Yeosang seemed entirely lost in thought that day, but San didn't think much of it since he was in a similar headspace anyway. It was better for both of them to just have their space. Besides, Yeosang wasn't the type to pry or bother him.
By the end of the day, San's mind was still racing, his thoughts split right down the middle between you and his backyard. He hoped that, at the very least, seeing you again would put his mind at ease.
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
When San shut the truck door beside him, he leaned over slightly to buckle your seatbelt for you.
You caught him a bit off guard when you asked if he was taking you to his place, but he couldn't do that just yet. The mess he’d made was still there, and the musty smell hadn't completely cleared out.
He didn't want you to be disgusted.
Instead, he drove to a nearby bar, wasting no time parking right out front and helping you climb down.
The sun was completely setting now. The sky, which had been a vibrant orange, was fading into a gradient of lilac and dark blue.
During the drive, San had been way too quiet for your liking. Even as you walked into the bar and sat down at a corner table near the window, he seemed lost in thought, his expression grim, a stark contrast to how he’d been the last time you met.
It made your heart ache with anxiety, a mix of doubt and fear that something was terribly wrong, and that somehow, you were to blame.
"Is something wrong?" you asked as San took off his baseball cap, setting it on the table.
"No, I’m just a little tired. Didn't sleep very well." You didn't know if you entirely believed him. Even if he was exhausted, he could at least look a little happier to see you, but he just seemed annoyed, and you knew how to read his moods.
You ordered drinks, and an awkward silence filled the space between you as the waiter brought over two bottles of soju along with shot glasses.
"Are you sure?" you pressed. San raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your suspicion. His face looked tense, his brow furrowed as his eyes locked onto yours, looking as if he were trying to read your mind.
You looked exactly like someone trying to gauge if others could see right through your thoughts, like a little bleeding fish, terrified that a shark might catch the scent.
Which only made him feel more irritated.
You, on the other hand, fed your restlessness and negative thoughts with every passing second. Every single expression and movement from San made you overthink, and your brain was already spinning every possible worst-case scenario. Guilt, the feeling that you had already become a disappointment, spread through your chest like ink on paper, making it a little hard to breathe.
San and you were both suspicious of one another, each harboring different perceptions that only cultivated senseless, obsessive thoughts as you tried to read each other. You were letting the tiny seed planted by your unstable minds grow, sowing false impressions.
You overthought everything, letting your fears grow bigger than you were, forever living under the shadow of the dread of becoming disposable and invisible. You feared being hurt by shattered expectations, having your heart broken yet again by the harsh reality of being someone who simply couldn't be loved.
San was merely projecting his own desires onto you within his sick mind, forever at odds with the reality around him. The possessiveness taking over him made him corrupt the perfect image he himself had crafted of you, letting frustration replace his good guy facade simply because he imagined you had stepped even slightly out of the box he’d put you in.
The two of you were irrationally letting the monsters inside you take shape over the smallest issue, an issue that hadn't even been addressed. Neither of you had any idea what was actually going on, yet you were both quick to jump to conclusions and expect the worst.
Any normal person would have let reason win, but worse than you, San was already questioning if you were even worth the trouble anymore. If you would be useful.
Perhaps his obsession could easily be mistaken for love, but as complicated, abstract, fiery, volatile, and thorny as love could be, San didn't even know what love actually was. He only had an idea of love, a twisted, fragmented one.
At the end of the day, he just wanted to feel better, to feel whole and fulfilled, free of insecurities. He wanted to fill his own void, just like you did. The difference between the two of you was that San wouldn't feel a shred of guilt for something he had caused, the way you were feeling right now.
He wouldn't worry about how you felt, the way you were worrying about him right now.
Sure, he had thought about you every single second for years. He’d gotten jealous, he’d been impulsive, he’d killed, he was working on his plans.
He did it for you. But it wasn't about you, it was about him.
The second you showed that you weren't the Y/n he had idealized and sculpted in his imagination while you matured and grew up away from him, the moment you showed you were even a fraction different from the version he created, it would mean you weren't worth his effort.
Then he would be doing all of this for nothing. And just thinking about that made San incredibly agitated.
He forced himself to mask the emotions that were making him angry. He wanted to be certain before he took action because right now, even though his entire body was impulsively jumping to conclusions, the benefit of the doubt made him second, third, and fourth-guess himself. He didn't want to be reckless.
"Why wouldn't I be?" San’s voice came out a bit harsher than he intended. "Do you have something on your mind?" He opened a bottle and carefully poured the liquid into two glasses, sliding one over to you.
His words were enough to make you overthink even further, cementing the idea that Wooyoung really hadbeen with him, just like he said, and hadn't missed the chance to talk about you, stirring up drama and twisting your image.
After all, it wasn't reasonable at all that, right after San went away, his girlfriend would go and fuck his boyfriend.
You let out a heavy sigh, slowly shaking your head.
"He talked about me, didn't he?" you asked, staring down at your hands.
"What? Who?" San questioned, even more confused now.
"Please, just be honest with me!" You snapped your eyes up to meet his, locking your gaze onto him. "The second you run into Wooyoung, you become a completely different person with me." You threw your back against the chair, crossing your arms in frustration.
Wooyoung’s name hit San’s ears like a confirmation. He hadn't even had to bring it up, you had gone out of your way to hit the nail right on the head.
So there was something, after all.
San took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he rested his elbows on the table.
"What is going on between you and Wooyoung?" he asked, rather impatiently, referring to the whole mystery you had just manufactured inside his head.
To your ears, however, it sounded like confirmation that Wooyoung had done it again, and San was at the end of his rope, wanting to hear your side of the story.
At least you could defend yourself.
"That piece of shit..." you muttered before continuing. "There is absolutely nothing between us, and there never was. Wooyoung is a lying asshole who can't take no for an answer." You grew angrier with every word, practically snarling by the end of it, lightly slamming your fist on the table without drawing the attention of the other people around.
"What do you mean by that?" It was San’s turn to cross his arms. He was frowning now, even more confused by your answer.
You ran a hand through your hair, anxious. Was he trying to test you, or did he really just want to hear what you had to say in your defense?
You brought the soju to your lips, knocking back the shot San had poured for you. You watched him do the same, and he immediately refilled the glasses.
"San, I swear to you, nothing happened. I would never do something like that to you. I wouldn't go after your friends," you said, leaning in closer to him. He kept his elbows on the table, his head tilted, staring at you with a fiery intensity in his eyes.
"Y/n, just explain it, because your words aren't making much sense to me right now." He took his second shot, never breaking eye contact.
You sighed, assuming he was prompting you to tell the whole story from start to finish. So, you did.
You stared at your hands gripping the small glass the entire time, pouring everything out to San while keeping your words measured, trying to be as clear as possible.
The second you finished, you knocked back the shot that was waiting for you, immediately poured another, and took another one.
Three shots of alcohol were enough to make your face completely flush, acting as a mild numbing agent for the chaos in your mind.
You looked up at San, who had matched your pace with the soju, taking his fourth shot. His face seemed to be heating up just like yours, however, unlike the alcohol warming your body, San was burning with pure rage.
His hands had curled into tight fists, his knuckles turning white from the sheer pressure he was applying.
He felt like he’d just taken a punch to the gut, bile rising in his throat and leaving a bitter taste.
How could Wooyoung be such a backstabber? And worse than that, how dare he defile something that belonged to him!
Everything around them fell silent. San squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain his composure before he lost his mind right in front of you.
He had made a mistake. He had misjudged you. He had come dangerously close to punishing the wrong person.
But this whole mess had at least served to expose Wooyoung, so he couldn't deny that he had acted prudently by holding back.
"San?" You let your brow furrow, looking at him with a mix of fear and anticipation.
He reached out for your hand, squeezing it firmly within his palm, reassuring you.
"It's okay, don't worry about it." He looked deeply into your eyes, leaning closer to your face. You closed the distance, letting San press his lips to yours in a quick, discreet kiss.
"He won't bother you anymore."
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
You couldn't get used to the way San drove, especially after he’d been drinking. He wasn't drunk or disoriented by any means, but the alcohol in his system definitely made him even more aggressive in traffic.
As you gave him directions to your dorm, the mood was completely different this time. San was talkative now, smiling at you and even teasing you a few times.
He was trying to be more laid-back since he knew he shouldn't be taking any negative energy out on you, he’d already figured out what the issue was.
Still, that didn't mean his mind had gone quiet. He still had a mountain of things to do, and he couldn't stop obsessing over every single detail, step by step.
San parked right in front of the on-campus building, remembering when he’d been around these parts with his friends for that party, while you unbuckled your seatbelt to get out.
You looked at him in silence. His cheeks were flushed and his face was warm, the alcohol made him look so handsome. He met your gaze, also staying quiet, but gave you a smirk as he leaned in closer.
He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then gently stroked your cheek. "Text me the second you get to your room, okay?"
"Okay, Sannie." You gave him a quick kiss, but before you could open the door, he caught your arm, pulling you close again.
"I'm sorry," you tilted your head. "About earlier today. I really didn't sleep well, and I've just had a ton of work lately. I'm sorry for taking it out on you."
You smiled at him, squeezing his hand.
"It's okay, San. Let's just drop it. Just- communicate better with me, okay?" you said, and he gently pulled your face in to kiss your lips, not a quick one like you’d just given him, but with more passion.
Even so, he was being chaste and delicate, moving his lips with a soft touch.
"See you later, baby." Your cheeks burned fiercely at the pet name.
"See you, Sannie." you said shyly, finally getting out of the truck and heading into the building, where you disappeared from sight.
San drove back to his place, heading straight to the shed to pick up exactly where he’d left off the night before. He hadn't bothered looking for a store that was open, he knew very few would be at this hour, and he’d just be wasting time and gas.
He preferred to get back to what he’d started, and now, he needed to move faster. It sucked that he had to do everything so covertly. The manual labor made everything move at a snail's pace, it was nothing compared to heavy machinery. But what choice did he have? It wasn't like he could just go buy an excavator. And even if he could, it would draw everyone's attention.
Once again, San worked at a frantic, breakneck pace, only stopping when a few sharp twinges shot through his arms. His muscles screamed in pain from the strain, begging for a break.
He dropped the shovel and climbed out of the hole, which was finally gaining some depth, repeating the exact same routine as the night before. He fell asleep in his own filth, as if the grime were already a part of him and no longer bothered him at all.
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
For days, San repeated the exact same exhausting routine. He made sure to take you out whenever you had free time, dropping whatever he was doing to pick you up or simply heading over to your dorm whenever your roommate went home to visit her parents.
Eventually, days turned into weeks, and during that time, San pushed himself so hard that you started to notice how incredibly tired and worn-down he looked from work.
In your mind, his job at the butcher shop was draining the life out of him. You had no idea that San was putting in almost superhuman labor inside a tunnel he’d meticulously dug all the way to his basement, connecting the house to the underground of the shed.
Without resting for even a single second, sleeping only what he deemed absolutely necessary, San transformed the hole in the shed floor into a trapdoor. Inside, he expanded the tunnel to ensure there was enough room for him to move around freely, allowing him to go from the basement to the backyard and vice versa.
Down in the basement, he’d gotten rid of almost everything that was useless to him, keeping only tools, utensils, old rags, and a small rectangular table. The rest was just leftover material from the makeshift renovation he was doing completely hidden from everyone's eyes.
Scraps of wood, cutting tools, nails, paint buckets, glue, and things like that.
San used the dead of night to haul away the dirt and debris generated by his relentless work so the neighbors wouldn't notice or hear him.
He’d bought more barrels, more acids, more chemicals. He used a sealant to waterproof the entire basement, coating the walls and even the stairs.
San also used fiberglass insulation to line the entire space, especially the shed, which was more vulnerable to noise, creating an acoustic barrier to muffle any sound.
Inside the basement, alongside the barrels, San installed hooks heavy-duty enough to hold a massive amount of weight, including bones. It would be useful for letting things drain until barely any fluids remained, making the disposal process much easier.
It wasn't easy. He was completely running on fumes. Deep, gray circles weighed down the bags under his eyes, and his face looked more neglected than ever. His pores were clogged and some even dilated, his jawline and upper lip shadowed by a messy, rough stubble complete with razor bumps and ingrown hairs.
He was a total wreck. Visibly thinner, his arms throbbed with a never-ending ache from the constant strain, at least until everything was exactly how he wanted it. However, his muscles were tighter and harder than ever. All that manual labor, done entirely alone and relying solely on raw physical strength, had left his muscles incredibly hypertrophied.
You’d comment on how much stronger and more toned he looked, joking about how his biceps could probably snap anything in half.
The time the two of you spent together only strengthened the old connection that had been buried deep inside you, bringing back that sense of belonging day after day.
You felt like you could finally allow yourself to experience something intimate and profound with another person, mostly because San always managed to frame everything to make himself look like your saving grace. Even when he hadn't premeditated it, he could talk you into absolutely anything.
Anything, except cutting ties with Hongjoong.
With San’s time entirely consumed by the most unlikely activities, he dedicated himself uniquely and exclusively to you while, in parallel, setting up a bizarre kind of underground butcher shop on top of his full-time job.
He’d had to map out his priorities, but that didn't mean he had forgotten about Hongjoong.
His friend found it weird that San had changed overnight. He didn't seem to be in a particularly good mood whenever he saw him, and he didn't care to keep conversations going for very long either. Well, that was until San came to the solo conclusion that he needed to cultivate a certain closeness with Wooyoung, whether he wanted to or not. Otherwise, things simply wouldn't work out in his favor.
Wooyoung still thought it was strange, but it wasn't like he gave it too much thought. He just lived his life like any normal person, worked, went out, rested, the same old routine. He had enough to keep himself busy, so it wasn't like it bothered him enough to be a constant fixture in his mind.
Just enough to make him wary. After all, San was his best friend too.
As for Hongjoong, you later noticed how jealous San would get over your friend, his mood often shifting back and forth. It wasn't that he wanted to appear deliberately unstable, but he simply couldn't help it.
Even though San was a master at masking who he truly was, it didn't stop his emotions from getting the better of him. He was aware, but he wasn't sane.
He couldn't control everything.
And Hongjoong was getting under his skin more than he cared to admit, causing the instability between his emotions and his inner motives to bleed through.
Though San was wrestling with the monsters inside him, he was satisfied with the progress he’d made with you. You were becoming more and more malleable, even if you remained unyielding when it came to your friends, but that was nothing he couldn't deal with later.
What mattered was that you seemed to accept and welcome him, not just like before, but with something deeper. He was tapping into sensations he’d never been able to feel before, at least not in a real way, like he did with you.
When the heat of your body was close, when the two of you would start making out until you were both completely breathless, it made San’s body boil and his groin throb.
You always noticed his erection straining against the fabric of his jeans, the hard ridge marking a rigid outline that was practically begging to be explored by your hands and whatever else you had to offer him.
Your touch, your soft lips, your clean taste, and your sweet scent always succeeded in making him give in to the moment, surrendering to the comfort of your arms, your heart beating wildly against his chest whenever he pulled you in.
He finally felt good during those moments.
He wanted to maintain the immaculate image you projected onto him, he wanted things to keep flowing in that smooth, falsely genuine way. But he simply couldn't help running his hands over your body when you kissed him so well, intertwining your tongues in a slow, gentle caress, letting your mouths lock together like a dance.
His lips tingled against yours as the minutes ticked by and your body pressed closer and closer against his, seeking warmth.
San couldn't keep his hands strictly on your waist. Eventually, he was feeling up your legs, the curve of your hips, until his palm spread flat over your ass, squeezing with curiosity, feeling the flesh fill his hands exactly the way it was meant to.
You didn't complain. Whenever it happened, you just let him explore your body, feeling special knowing you were the first woman San had ever known intimately.
You could be naive, a bit clueless at times, easily influenced, but you could put two and two together. It was completely implied that San had never been with anyone sexually, at least, going by what he himself told you.
And believing him, imagining yourself as his gateway, especially knowing he’d craved you for all this time, made everything feel so much more exciting. Feeling his lips, his hands, his body, his sheer curiosity to feel every single inch of you.
San would slide his hands up the inside of your thighs, letting his fingers really feel your skin whenever you wore a skirt. He’d trace your waist as his hands traveled up the sides of your body, mapping out your silhouette in his mind while keeping his eyes shut, letting you set the pace of your passionate kisses.
He loved it when he sat propped up against the headboard of your dorm bed with you straddling his lap, your legs on either side of his torso, pressing your breasts against him purposefully and seductively, loving the feeling of his dick hardening underneath you.
You felt a rush of heat whenever your virgin boy would bring his hands up to your chest, learning what it felt like to have his hands full of your tits, cupping them, squeezing them. Sometimes you didn't wear a bra when you invited him in, and he could feel your nipples hardening right against his palms, making his groin burn and his dick pulse painfully inside his restrictive pants.
He tried to push things a little further every time. At certain points, he would slide his hands underneath your clothes.
The day he felt the heat of your skin as he slipped his hand into your bra, letting your breast fit perfectly into his palm, he almost came right then and there.
You found it adorable and satisfying to watch San’s reactions whenever he did something for the very first time with you.
Like the day you were wearing a skirt and a white pair of panties that were so thin, so incredibly sheer that it felt like skin-to-skin, like nothing more than a scrap of cotton paper. You had him sit on the bed, climbing on top of him and letting your covered cunt press right against his dick through his clothes.
And you were having the time of your life with it. It made you feel so unique, so wanted, so indispensable.
And when you moved against him, letting your covered intimacies friction together, you showed him the pleasurable yet agonizing sensation of dry humping.
It was a thrill to feel his hands grip your body, holding onto you as if you might evaporate, not even realizing his own strength, entirely focused on the pleasure you were giving him, on what you were showing him.
But nothing compared to when you let him go a step further and take your shirt off, exposing your breasts.
He stared at them as if they were two rare jewels, admiring them for several long seconds before bringing his curious hands up to feel your skin. His hands squeezed gently, gauging your reactions with his eyes. He cup them, touched them, squeezed them, watching how your breasts behaved.
With your knees firmly planted on either side of his body, you lifted yourself up a bit more, aligning your breasts right with his face, up close, teasing him to come even closer.
San wrapped his arms around your waist and parted his lips, capturing your erect nipple with his mouth. His first oral contact with your body anywhere other than your lips and neck. He locked in instantly, and his grip around you tightened.
He started licking and kissing your breast in a sloppy rhythm before closing his lips tightly around your nipple, beginning to suck on it. You gasped and moaned, encouraging him to keep going, using your sounds to affect him just as much as he was affecting you.
San, however, didn't dare go any further. At least, not from your perspective. Instead, he just kept sucking on your nipple, looking starved.
You didn't move at first, letting him do whatever he wanted and use your body comfortably. He simply wouldn't stop nursing at your breast, even though, obviously, nothing was going to come out, until his pace quickened and he seemed even hungrier.
You ended up shifting on the bed to get more comfortable, carefully climbing off his lap and lying down on your side while he kept his mouth glued to your breast, holding you by the waist. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, leaning against the headboard, letting him rest his head on your chest, cradling him.
You offered him your other breast to give the first one a break, which he accepted, continuing to suckle.
Your legs were intertwined, rubbing against each other, and he stayed just like that, simply nursing at your breast while you stroked his hair. Suddenly, his entire body went completely rigid. His grip on your waist tightened enough to leave finger marks, his legs rubbed frantically against yours, and a deep grunt escaped his mouth. You realized he had just came.
He let go of your breast, breathing heavily, trying to pull himself together. You kept stroking the back of his neck, whispering that it was okay.
He just kept his face buried between your breasts, and even though he’d stopped grinding against you and his body had gone limp, he started nuzzling his mouth against your skin again, switching back to the other nipple and resuming his suckling.
It wasn't uncomfortable, he wasn't doing it harshly or painfully.
Maybe you should have pushed him away or thought his behavior was bizarre. But you didn't think it was weird, nor did you push him away. Instead, you just held him tighter, resuming the way you ran your fingers through his hair, letting him have whatever he wanted from you, for as long as he wanted it.
And strangely, you wanted more of it. It carried a sense of devotion, a kind of care that no one else could ever give him, only you.
It just felt right. Destined. You were supposed to do this, he needed you, just like you needed him. Your mind simply accepted it.
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
San came back from inside the walk-in freezer with a large primal cut of meat, holding it by a metal hook. He slammed it down onto the cutting table and started trimming it until Yeosang walked up next to him.
"Why didn't you meet up with us Saturday night? I thought for sure you'd show up," he asked, not in a confrontational way, just genuinely curious.
"I had other things to do. I told you guys that from the start, but you just won't drop it," San said without taking his eyes off the meat. He was separating the meat from the bone, tossing the trimmed cuts into a tray.
Yeosang laughed, crossing his arms. "Is it because of Y/n? Come on, you can tell me, we don't want to be cockblockers. It's just that Wooyoung is starting to get on everyone's nerves now."
San stopped what he was doing for a few seconds, lowering his knife and looking over at Yeosang. "I’ve been really busy, seriously, but Wooyoung has it coming."
Yeosang’s face just blanked into a confused expression, completely failing to figure it out, just blinking in silence. San laughed and called him cute, which Yeosang immediately rolled his eyes at.
"Come on, are you really so busy that you can't hang out with us even once?" he pressed.
San almost brushed it off again, but maybe it was time to play along and keep up appearances. "You guys aren't going to get off my dick until I go, are you? Fine, let's go out this coming Saturday."
Yeosang laughed, giving San a playful swat on the ass before heading over to the counter where a customer had just walked in.
San turned his attention back to the cut on the cutting board over the stainless steel table, running his knife through the meat, slicing it away from the bones that would be thrown out, ripping through tendons and ligaments.
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
Before the weekend arrived, you texted San to let him know you’d be staying at your parents' house.
They were heading out for a relative’s birthday at a cabin not too far away, preferring to leave you and your brother home so they wouldn't get in the way of your schedules, though they strictly forbade the two of you from doing anything inside the house that they wouldn't approve of.
Your brother definitely wasn't going to annoy them with that anyway, after all, he wasn't even staying home, choosing to go out with his friends like he always did.
And as for you, well, it wasn't against the rules to have friends over, was it? San was still your friend, despite everything.
It would be nice to spend a few days at home, enjoying some space that a shared dorm room just couldn't offer. But deep down, that wasn't exactly why you were so anxious.
When your parents said goodbye on Friday afternoon, they were very explicit about the house rules. Especially with you, as you stood listening next to your brother.
After a few more lectures, they got into the car and drove off, guided by the GPS showing the route to their destination where they’d be spending the weekend.
The second the car vanished from sight and the two of you went inside, your brother didn't waste any time grabbing the battered backpack he never parted with, throwing on a jacket before heading out the door.
He gave you a very quick goodbye, offering no explanation as to where he was going, only saying he’d text you if needed.
You rolled your eyes at his lack of communication, but you couldn't deny you were excited. When he locked the door behind him, you were finally all alone, it was the perfect moment.
San arrived a little while after you texted him, asking him to come over. He came straight after clocking out of work, stopping by his place first to shower so he wouldn't arrive smelling like raw meat.
"Sannie!" You threw your arms around him the moment you opened the door to let him in. He walked inside, taking a good look at his surroundings, letting his eyes scan the entire place.
"I brought this for you," he said as you closed the door and turned back to face him. He handed you a package tied with a red ribbon.
"San, you didn't have to! What is this?" You hugged him once more, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes as your lips planted a loud kiss on his cheek.
"It's just a little gift, it's no big deal," he said with a smile, showing his dimples in the most adorable way, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.
You carefully opened the package until it revealed a small, sturdy box. Upon opening it, you found a necklace with a silver heart locket, lined with tiny, glittering stones around the edges. It was delicate, but inside, it held a photo of you and San, taken not too long ago.
He pulled his own necklace out from under the collar of his shirt, matching yours, wearing the exact same photo inside his locket.
You felt your heart beat so hard in your chest that you feared he could hear it from where he stood. You traced the photo inside the pendant with the tip of your finger. A rush of euphoria washed over you, and you couldn't help the wide smile that stretched across your face from ear to ear, making you feel like the only girl in the world.
"Sannie, this is beautiful!" You pulled him down by his neck and kissed his lips, giving him several quick pecks. "Thank you, sweetie, I love it! When did you even make this?" you asked excitedly, your arms still looped around his neck.
"Oh, that doesn't matter." He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "You know, I’ve never felt this way with anyone else, Y/n... you're very special to me, you know that?"
"San... you're r-really s-special to me too." You looked up at him with deer eyes, your body relaxing as one of his hands gently stroked the small of your back.
"Good. Because I don't want this to ever end." He brought a hand up to your chin, lifting your face so your eyes locked completely with his, gazing down at you gently. "I want you to..."
He hesitated for a moment, swallowing before he spoke. You could feel your heart racing, skipping a beat. Your excitement was building, and you stared back at him in anticipation, your eyes shining.
"Yes...?" you prompted. It was exactly what he needed to know he could move forward.
"Y/n, I want you to be mine," he finally said, making you let out all the breath you hadn't realized you were holding. You blinked repeatedly, your mouth slightly agape, your expression shifting from a mix of surprise and awe to a completely starstruck, beaming smile.
San took his hand off your chin and took your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips to press a gentle kiss against them.
"This time we’ve spent together has only made me realize that I want to be with you always." He wasn't lying. At least, he managed to sound a lot more convincing that way.
"I love you, Y/n..." You forgot how to breathe the moment you heard him, a gasp caught in your throat. "And that's exactly why I want to put a label on us. You aren't just any girl, you deserve something official."
You tried to say something, but you could only open and close your mouth, as if you’d forgotten how to string syllables together and pronounce words. This was so much more than you had anticipated when you thought about spending the weekend with him.
"Would you be my girlfriend?"
Your eyes grew glossy and welling with tears, though you held them back tightly before they could spill over and roll down your face. You cupped both sides of his face with your hands, kissing him.
Only then did San realize just how tense his muscles had been, his body rigid from the high-stakes atmosphere he’d built up. It was a bold move that could have ended badly if he’d miscalculated.
But feeling your lips press against his, your hands gripping him tightly as if your life depended on it, something told him everything was going exactly according to plan. He let his body relax and melted into your touch.
"Yes! Yes, yes, yes! I love you too, Sannie..." you said, breaking the kiss slightly. You let out a soft, breathy laugh to yourself. "It's funny how we ended up here, isn't it? I didn't even dream I’d ever see you again, and now you're asking me to be your girlfriend."
"I don't ever want to be away from you again," he said, placing a hand on the side of your face, caressing your skin as his fingers slid behind your ear, brushing through your hair while his palm cupped your cheek.
"Me neither!" You hugged him tightly, burying your face just below his shoulder while he stroked your hair.
"Come here," he said, pulling you gently by the hand and guiding you to the center of the living room while taking the locket box from your hands. He stepped behind you, and catching the hint, you swept your hair to one side, exposing your nape and neck so he could put the necklace on you.
You watched the locket fall gracefully over your chest. The delicate design was so beautiful and sweet, the chain thin and subtle, the pendant just the right size.
San captured the silver heart between his fingers and held it up right next to his own, watching the matching pieces side by side, now around your neck too.
"Do... do you want to go upstairs?" you asked, turning your face back to look at him.
He smiled, feeling entirely victorious.
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
Upon entering your room, San took in every single detail, every photograph on the dresser, every ornament hanging above the headboard, your bookshelf, your little decorations.
Your cotton-colored walls, your pastel sheets, the spacious bed neatly made with soft blankets on top, and the dim light filtering from the bedside lamp, making everything feel incredibly cozy and welcoming.
He took off his jacket and shoes, not having done so downstairs when he arrived, leaving his belongings near the bench at the foot of the bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror, watching the locket contrast against your outfit, your long-sleeve shirt, and your mini skirt. You gently held the pendant between your fingers before turning around to face San with a sweet smile.
"Come here, sit down." You gently pulled him by the hand, guiding him over to your bed and sitting down right beside him. Your face flushed bright red, replaying the words he had just said downstairs in the living room. I love you.
San brought a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and caressing your skin with his thumb. "Is something wrong?"
"No, no, it's just... you feel so surreal. I feel like I'm in a dream right now, and I'm terrified of waking up, because you're being exactly who I’ve always wanted someone to be with me." You breathed the words out to him, and he absorbed them like pure fuel. His eyes gleamed even in the low light of your lamp, carrying a spark whose true meaning only he understood.
In San’s head, he was thinking about how easy you made everything. He had expected to have to work a bit harder at first, but you were making it so simple.
He grinned, bringing his other hand to cup the opposite side of your face, drawing your faces close until the tips of your noses touched.
"Don't worry, it's not just a dream. I'm not going to let you go," he said, and closed the remaining distance between you, sealing your lips in a chaste kiss.
His mouth moved gently, capturing your lips between his, feeling their softness and plushness brushing against him until he flicked his tongue against your lower lip, asking for entry, and you gave in.
His tongue felt warm against yours, swirling slowly and softly. Your mouths fit together as if they were made for each other, your tongues intertwining with such ease that it felt like floating.
You looped your arms around his neck, pressing closer to his body, and he slid one hand to the nape of your neck, deepening the kiss, while his other hand traveled down to the curve of your waist, instinctively pulling you flush against him.
You broke the kiss to breathe, catching your breath as your flushed, wet lips hovered slightly parted right against his.
He planted soft pecks on the corner of your mouth, tracing kisses along your cheek, then moving up to your forehead, down to your nose, and back to your mouth.
When he locked his mouth with yours again, this time with more intensity, you shifted on the bed against his body and straddled his lap while he leaned his back against the headboard, keeping a firm grip on your waist.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, one hand cupping his cheek, shivering as he began to slide his fingers along your waist underneath your shirt.
The cool tips of his fingers quickly warmed up from the heat of your skin. It didn't take him long to slide his hands up your back, tracing your spine as well, sending delicious shivers through your body as you went completely pliable over him.
As the kiss intensified, it grew wetter, messier, and hungrier. He brought one hand down to your hip, tracing the curves of your body while you bit down on his lower lip, dragging it between your teeth.
With both hands holding your hips firmly, feeling the way you moved against him, his erection grew underneath his jeans, making his pants feel incredibly tight. You noticed his arousal poking against you and began to slowly grind your hips, making him squeeze your waist, digging his fingers into your skin.
Your clothes felt hot and suffocating now. He breathed heavily against your mouth, clutching you so tightly against him, completely intoxicated by the sensation you caused when you pressed your covered intimacy right against his erection, rolling and dragging your hips back and forth. San gripped you with such fervor, not even realizing how much strength he was using on your body as the pleasure began to take over.
You pulled your mouth away from his, only to drag your wet lips down his neck, raining kisses over his sensitive skin, making his eyes flutter shut as he threw his head back.
It felt so good to have him like this underneath you, reacting so well and being so responsive. It left you aching for more.
He was no longer keeping his hands strictly on your hips, he was running them all over your body, grabbing your ass and occasionally helping you grind against him as the fabric of your skirt rode up, leaving your panties exposed.
Realizing your bare ass was uncovered, he gripped your cheeks, squeezing with a decent amount of force, letting a low grunt escape his lips as he felt the fabric of your panties bunch up between your ass crack.
San was moving too, thrusting his hips upward as best as he could, driving his rock-hard erection against your cunt covered by the tiny underwear, making your bodies rub together with more pressure.
You slid one of your hands down between your bodies, tracing over his toned chest, feeling his abs contract until your hand rested right over his dick.
You looked at him, your pupils dilated, capturing the mounting desire in his eyes.
Without breaking eye contact, you undid his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and with his help, pulled down the zipper, which was a bit difficult to lower completely because of the massive bulge in his pants.
With his jeans open, you slid your hand over his hard length through his underwear. You stroked him lightly, wanting to tease him slowly with a more subtle touch, watching how he reacted to your hand.
Instinctively, he lifted his hips, seeking relief. You bit your lip and gripped his dick through the cotton fabric, feeling his hard shaft pulsing hot against your palm.
San let a low moan escape, getting more and more lost in the intense pleasure you were giving him. Your hand gripped his dick, moving up and down, measuring his length through his underwear, taking in his size. Your mouth watered as you stared at the outline of his dick silhouetted against the fabric, large and thick, with a damp spot forming at the tip from the pre-come dripping in pure lust.
He felt his entire body burning, his groin throbbing as he watched your hand stroke his dick. He shifted his gaze down to your pussy, still covered by your panties, which were fully exposed with your legs spread over him and your skirt hitched up to your hips. He brought one of his hands straight to your core.
Aqui está a tradução para o inglês americano fluente e nativo, capturando a mistura de descoberta, a inexperiência guiada do personagem e o clima intensamente erótico da cena:
You gasped in surprise at his touch, making him hesitate and look up at you. You simply nodded, encouraging him to keep going. He had never touched you down there before, maybe he was just building up enough courage and confidence. Now that you had finally touched him beneath his pants, maybe he wanted to return the favor by doing the same.
You watched intently, never taking your hand off his dick, now gently sliding your palm along his length, masturbating him through his underwear. He touched you carefully, testing the waters, feeling the heat and moisture pooling from your core.
You let out muffled moans as his fingers explored your body, tracing your pussy and causing your panties to stick wetly against your skin.
San rubbed two fingers between your covered folds, highly attentive to your reactions and how your body responded. He took in every single detail, the delicate fabric of your underwear soaked through, your core forming a wet puddle over it, while the outline of your folds pressed tightly against the cloth, revealing your contours.
You grew bolder and, catching San completely off guard, hooked a finger into your panties and pulled them to the side, fully exposing your bare, soaking-wet pussy.
He nearly groaned at the sheer sight of it, and you felt his dick pulse hard against your hand.
San admired your body for a few seconds, staring intensely at your pussy, taking in your flushed folds, your wet lips, and your clit. He looked at you as if he were staring at a masterpiece right in front of him.
"Do you want me to lie down?" you asked. He nodded quickly, helping you climb off his lap to lie flat with your back against the mattress, stripping off your panties completely. He positioned himself right between your legs, not knowing where to fix his gaze, whether to look at your face or down at your cunt.
You spread your legs wider, becoming more vulnerable and even more exposed, giving him a complete view of you. He leaned over your body, uncertain of what his next move should be, but you helped him out.
Taking one of his hands, you guided it down to your core, letting him feel you now with no fabric left to obstruct him. San let his fingers touch you with pure curiosity, fascinated, feeling every texture, every single inch.
He slid his fingers between your folds, feeling your lips, even tracing the exact shape of your pussy, completely awestruck to have a woman’s intimacy right in front of his face for the first time, watching his fingers get slicked with the fluids dripping from your cunt.
And thinking about that, he leaned down even lower, bringing his face mere inches from your core, making you arch an eyebrow and watch him in anticipation.
San gripped one of your thighs and slid his tongue right over your pussy, his wet muscle tracing the entire length of your folds, including your slit, capturing your nectar as he tasted you.
You threw your head back as the tip of his tongue flicked against your clit.
San lifted his head, gauging your reaction.
"Please, do it again, Sannie..." you pleaded with doe eyes.
"Like this?" He repeated exactly what he’d just done, only letting the tip of his tongue brush over your clit at the very end.
"More like..." You reached down and placed a hand over his head, guiding him down to your clit. With your other hand, you pointed to your erogenous zone, showing him exactly where to focus. He ran his tongue over it again, a bit clumsy and inexperienced, but hitting your clit. "...this."
He began to lick your clit, now and then swirling the tip of his tongue over it and pressing down, watching your reactions. You moaned in a controlled rhythm underneath him, his dick was already aching from pure horniness and a total lack of attention.
"San, you c-can also, uhm... do it like you do u-up here." You cupped your own breast, hoping he’d catch the hint, which thankfully he did, beginning to close his lips around your clit, sucking on it.
However, his very first suction was a little too hard, making you groan out loud as a sharp spasm shot through you. He looked up at you, suddenly unsure.
"It's okay, keep going, baby. Just... be a little gentler." You stroked the hair on top of his head, caressing him affectionately to reassure him.
San refocused, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking. It wasn't exactly perfect, but with practice, he’d get there.
After a little more time, San began to find a rhythm, adapting his tongue to your reactions. Even if he was still a bit awkward, he kept hitting your clit until he finally closed his lips around it, using his tongue to stroke your peak of pleasure while applying light suction, rewarded with deep groans of approval.
"Oh, baby, just like that!" you moaned, burying your head into the mattress.
Você rolled your hips in sync with his mouth, gripping his hair as you whimpered softly at his progress.
Before you could come, he pulled his mouth away, staring down once again at your sticky pussy, now also glistening with the saliva he’d left behind. His eyes locked onto your slit, letting his fingers caress your core up and down one more time, rubbing against your lips, your plump folds, until he started teasing your entrance.
You bit your lip, looking back down at him, and he understood he had permission to go further. Curiously, he pressed his finger against your hole, testing it, until he decided to slowly slide his finger inside you, watching it vanish into your cunt.
He felt your wet, gummy walls instantly wrap around his finger, as if gently welcoming him in.
San gasped at the sensation, staring fixedly at your hole swallowing his finger as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He initiated a slow thrusting motion, watching his finger slide out of you coated in your wetness before pushing back inside, disappearing deep within you.
He couldn't take it anymore, so he brought one hand down to his own dick, stroking himself. Seeing him struggling to find relief, you pushed yourself up on your elbows, catching his attention.
"I want to touch you too." San nodded eagerly, giving you room to adjust yourself on the bed. You moved back toward the headboard, lightly pushing him down so he could lay back against your pillows.
Now on top of him once again, you leaned down to kiss him, tasting yourself mixed with his saliva, while you pulled his jeans and underwear down, letting his dick snap painfully free, throbbing with pure lust.
Aqui está a tradução para o inglês americano fluente e nativo, capturando perfeitamente os detalhes sensoriais, a crueza erótica da cena e a inversão de papéis no final, mantendo o tom sombrio e possessivo da narrativa:
San let out a heavy gasp against your mouth the moment you straddled him, your bare pussy resting right on top of his dick, letting your wetness slick over it.
You began to grind your pussy against his dick, which was perfectly aligned between your folds, rocking back and forth. You rubbed your bodies together, frictioning your hot, wet core all along San’s shaft as he gripped you with pure desperation while you moaned into his mouth.
He let out a frustrated groan when you climbed off him, positioning yourself between his legs and leaning down until your face was mere inches from his dick.
He stared down at you, his eyes dark and glittering, watching your every move intently. Your hands traveled to the base of his shaft, gripping him firmly. You leaned in even closer, until your face was practically flush with his dick, side by side.
Without breaking eye contact, you kept your face right there and masturbated him slowly and tortuously with one hand. You intentionally positioned yourself that way so he could see the size of his dick compared to your face, the two almost the same length, letting him revel in that sense of dominance and scale.
His dick was thick, veiny, and darkly flushed, with a purplish head and heavy, full balls that were darker than his shaft. A neat patch of pubic hair covered his pelvis and his balls, but you just found it incredibly hot.
You wet your lips, bringing his dick to your mouth, and let your tongue swirl strictly around the head, watching him part his lips and knit his brows. He didn't make a sound, just emptying all the air from his lungs.
You grinned, now swirling your tongue over the tip to tease him, kitten-licking his length and leaving trails of spit all along the shaft, coating it completely before finally letting his head slip past your lips. The tip rubbed against your palate as your lips slid down his shaft.
He let out a low, raspy, drawn-out groan, closing his eyes in sheer bliss. He couldn't even describe what he was feeling, but your mouth closing tightly around his dick, sucking on the head while your hand stroked the remaining length, made him feel completely high.
Opening his eyes, he focused entirely on you right between his legs, sucking him off, letting strings of saliva coat and lubricate his dick. A slick trail of spit ran down the entire shaft and dripped between his balls, which you quickly smoothed over with one of your hands. You cupped and fondled his balls, leaving him completely mesmerized by the sight in front of him.
He was intoxicated. The veins on his dick pulsed every now and then, thick and prominent, while your lips stretched around his girth. You took his dick out of your mouth, jerking him off with a twisting, corkscrew motion, and leaned down to his balls, licking the wrinkled lines there before taking them into your mouth one by one, never stopping the handjob.
He threw his head back, unable to believe the sheer amount of pleasure you were giving him, quickly propping himself up on his elbows to get a better view of you.
Instinctively, he brought his hand to the top of your head, tangling his fingers through your hair while you gently worked your tongue over his balls, being careful with the sensitive area and making sure no stray hairs got caught in your mouth.
You soon let them go, returning your attention to his shaft. Before putting it back in your mouth, you locked eyes with San and spit right onto the head, letting the saliva run down the shaft just enough for you to coat it as you jerked him off.
He grunted, low and raspy. You could feel your own hole clenching around nothing, pulsing in excitement at the sight of your boy completely undone by pleasure.
He kept one hand on your head, guiding you against his dick as he began to roll his hips. You relaxed your throat, stretching your lips wide and keeping your teeth tucked away, letting him face-fuck you. He moved clumsily at first, but his thrusts grew hard and fast, causing tears to well up in the corners of your eyes.
San was moaning frantically now, sounding desperate for pleasure and relief. You hollowed your cheeks around him, suctioning tightly while mixing the friction with another gentle squeeze to his balls.
You could feel the tip of his dick driving hard against your palate, his rhythm was completely shot, and you knew he was close.
Breathing through your nose and fighting to keep your mouth wide open as your jaw began to ache, you kept up the suction along with your tongue until San let out a deep, guttural groan. He lost his breath entirely, straining to keep his eyes open as a thick, hot rush of fluids jetted into your mouth. A few bursts went straight down your throat, while a gooey, sticky puddle pooled in your mouth.
He delivered a few slow, fading thrusts until the very last drop was spent, gradually stopping his hips as his breathing turned into frantic pants.
"Shit..." he cursed under his breath.
You maintained eye contact the entire time, making sure he watched as you swallowed his cum.
San closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath, but his brows remained knit in a slightly frustrated expression for someone who had just come. He hadn't wanted to reach his peak that fast, he’d intended to stretch things out a bit longer, and he felt a little embarrassed.
However, you crawled back up over him, lifting his head by the chin, forcing him to look at you again.
"You did so well, baby." Leaning in, you pressed a soft peck against his lips, resting your cheek against his before rolling onto your side next to him. "You my good boy," you murmured, breathing the words into his ear. "My good, good boy..."
San relaxed completely, staring at you. His cheeks were hot and flushed. Your lips were swollen and red from use, glistening with wetness. Your hair was a little messy from where his hand had gripped it.
He leaned over and kissed your mouth, tasting a bit of himself before pulling away. You propped yourself up on one elbow, resting your head in your hand as you watched his breathing return to normal.
He then rested his head right against the curve of your breast, turning onto his side to face you.
"Can I, uhm... c-can I, " he started to stammer.
"Huh?" You were genuinely confused.
He slid one of his hands under your shirt, which hadn't been taken off yet, running his fingers over your bra before cupping it.
"Y/n, c-can I..." He lightly squeezed your breast, and then you understood.
You hesitated for a few seconds, looking down at him.
"Yeah." You guessed so. "Yes, you can."
You pulled the fabric up, exposing your breasts still caged in your bra, before pulling the shirt completely over your head. You nudged the bra cup down, the strap slipping off your shoulder, letting your breast spill free.
You lay back comfortably, slightly propped up against the headboard, a pillow cushioning your back. San adjusted himself and held your breast, gently wrapping his mouth around your nipple. He flicked his tongue over the tip a few times before closing his lips tightly around it and beginning to nurse.
You wrapped your arms around him and stroked his hair, patiently letting him have whatever he wanted from you, for as long as he wanted it, as darkness fell outside.
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
Late Saturday afternoon, you were getting ready to say goodbye to San, who had plans that night.
You wished he could stay longer, just as you wanted him to stick around until you had to head back to your dorm. But your parents would be home before then, and they would absolutely lose their minds if they found out you’d slept with a man inside their house while they were away, worse yet, with San.
Even though you were definitely old enough, it was completely unacceptable to your parents for you to enjoy your life so freely, let alone do things they wouldn't approve of under their roof.
They didn't look kindly on it, especially after you’d had so many boyfriends in the past. Your history of trying to find "the one" had left a bad impression on them.
"Call me as soon as you get home, okay?" you said after releasing him from your hug, catching the scent of his fresh-out-of-the-bath cologne, his hair damp and pushed back.
"I promise I will. It's just a night out with the guys. I owe them this much, they’ve been asking me to hang out for a while now," San said, planting a kiss on top of your head.
You stared down at your feet, nodding. He lifted your chin again, studying your face.
"Nothing, Sannie, I just... I wish I could spend more time with you." A part of you didn't really like the idea of San meeting up with his friends, meaning Wooyoung, but it wasn't your place to interfere with who San hung out with. The issue with Wooyoung was yours alone, though you couldn't lie about wishing San wasn't so close to him anymore. However, you weren't lying about the other part.
You really did want to spend more time with him.
"What time do you leave for college tomorrow? I can pick you up and drop you off at campus," he said, rubbing your waist.
"Don't you have to go to work?" you questioned, though you loved the idea.
"I don't think I have to work much before your class. I can make it happen," he finally said, checking the time on his wristwatch.
"All right, I'll text you." You walked him to the door. He put back on the jacket he’d left in your room, checking for his truck keys. "Sannie..."
"Why... why can't we ever go to your house?" you asked, catching him off guard, secretly worried that the reason had something to do with what happened in the past.
He let out a breathy laugh, scratching the back of his neck. The real reason he had never taken you there was because the house was a total wreck, stains all over the floor, mold spreading across the old, neglected walls, rust eating through parts of the house, broken things, a filthy couch.
But the main reason was what he actually did there. How could he possibly bring you inside his house when, up until that very moment, he was building the unimaginable, moving barrels of acid filled with human remains and a severed head right in his backyard?
It wasn't that he didn't want to be with you there, it just wasn't the right time yet. But he would take care of that as quickly as possible. He didn't want to detach himself from your body either, and this wasn't a good goodbye for him either. He also wanted to stay and enjoy your company more.
But there were still a few important things he had to do.
"I'm not very good at cleaning. I need to get everything perfect before you can even set foot in there. I don't want to scare you off, baby." You couldn't even begin to imagine how much.
"It's okay, I was just wondering. I don't want to pressure you," you said, gripping the hem of his shirt.
"You're not pressuring me, it's fine. I want to take you there, yeah? I just need everything to be just right, don't worry." San kissed your forehead, rubbing your back before finally letting you go. "In the meantime, I'm going to be right here with you," he said, pointing to the locket. He pulled his own out from under his shirt, holding it up next to yours. "Right here. The whole time."
You smiled sweetly at him, holding the silver heart over his hands. "I'm never taking it off."
"Hey," he called, catching your attention. "I love you."
"I love you too, Sannie," you said, blushing immediately. You hid your face in your hands, burying yourself against his chest with a giggle.
He let out a muffled laugh against your hair, kissing the top of your head one last time before kissing your lips and starting up his truck.
You watched him drive away until he disappeared completely from your sight. You walked back inside, you needed to pack your things to head back to college, already aching to see him again.
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
San kept an eye on the route via GPS, the sky had quickly turned pitch black, and the streets were lit only by lampposts.
He had made a quick stop at his house to change his clothes and check every room, including the backyard, before getting back into his truck and driving to the designated spot.
Wooyoung, Yunho, and Yeosang had texted him a few times earlier, but he only replied once he was back at his place.
The bar wasn't too far away, but San didn't know the area. He was carrying a few things in the back seat, just in case.
Upon arriving at the address and looking for a discreet spot to park, San walked up to the front of the bar, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
The place was simple, small, and not very busy. It had a tent-style awning, a neon sign that barely worked, a glass storefront window on one side, and only a single table outside.
When he walked in, the place felt old, with worn-out floors and walls, and rickety tables.
San immediately spotted Wooyoung and Yeosang at a table near the outdoor area, already drinking. He walked over, pulling out a chair to sit down.
"Look who finally decided to show up. Still alive, huh, Sannie?" Wooyoung joked.
"I told you he'd come," Yeosang chimed in.
"Whose bright idea was it to come to this bar anyway? This place looks like the edge of the earth," San said, looking around.
"Mine," Wooyoung answered. "The old lady who owns the place is a total cougar and is dying to ride my dick. So I always come here when I want to drink, and she hooks me up with free stuff."
Yeosang burst out laughing before tossing back a shot of soju.
"What a total douchebag," he commented on Wooyoung.
"What's the big deal? You guys wouldn't do the same? It's not like I’m always rolling in cash." He took another shot of alcohol, keeping up with Yeosang. "If I get drunk enough tonight, I might actually eat out her old cunt. I’ve been having zero luck with women lately."
San listened to him intently, his eyes sharpening on his friend. Before he even realized it, he took a shot of alcohol, feeling it burn its way down his throat, joining his friends. Shortly after, Yunho showed up and sat down with them.
"What are we talking about?" He started drinking, and soon enough, the table turned into a messy blur of shots. The first bottle of alcohol was empty in no time, and they ordered more, along with some appetizers.
"Wooyoung wants to fuck the old lady who runs the place," Yeosang said, enjoying the shocked look on Yunho’s face.
"Fuck, are you really that desperate? How old is she? 60?" Yunho tossed back a shot, grabbing a piece of fried chicken. "I don't think she could handle, uh, you know." He laughed.
"No way, she can definitely handle it. Those old ladies are tough. I'm going to get completely wasted and screw her without anyone knowing," Wooyoung replied, already missing his sobriety.
"We’ll know," San pointed out, drinking along with Yunho.
"But you guys aren't going to tell anyone, right?" San laughed, drinking a bit more. He found it comical just how ironic this entire conversation was sounding.
"San, how's working at the butcher shop going? Yeosang said you're really good at it," Yunho asked, curious about his friend's new job.
"It's a lot of work. Yeosang forgot to mention that I’d be doing all the heavy lifting. I have to unload inventory, haul massive cuts of meat, clean, and debone. It's not bad, but it's exhausting," he replied.
"Don't be a crybaby, you do everything with zero effort. Meanwhile, I was giving the higher-ups a hard time," Yeosang countered.
"Is that why they opened up the position?" Yeosang nodded at San. "You know, I’d never picture that as your job. You're so cute, it doesn't match you at all."
"Don't say that, I am not cute. Can't you see I'm dominant like a Doberman?" Yeosang shot back, ironically cute.
"Shut up, you're a Maltese," Wooyoung teased him, and everyone laughed.
After a while, everyone was relatively buzzed, especially Wooyoung, who was visibly hammered. Yeosang and San were the soberest of the group, especially San. He hadn't had much to drink, and that hadn't been his intention from the start anyway.
Wooyoung tried to drink a little more, fumbling around completely and making a mess, drawing stares from the few people around. Every now and then, the old lady who owned the bar really did bring him some free perks, which he accepted, flirting with her in his drunken state.
When the old lady walked over to their table to drop off some complimentary fried chicken with spicy sauce, Wooyoung slapped her ass as she turned around, which made everyone decide it was finally time to cut him off.
Despite everything, the old lady actually seemed to like it and was flirting right back, which left the group of guys feeling awkward but laughing at the same time.
It was late into the night, and the bar was practically empty. Yunho and Wooyoung were fooling around while San and Yeosang laughed, but checking the time on the clock, the bar owner started getting ready to close up shop. There was no one else left besides them, and she was way too old to stay awake this late.
After a few final sips and clearing the table, the men stood up and flipped the chairs on top of it.
Wooyoung protested, wanting to keep drinking, and even suggested going to another bar, but Yeosang shut him down, convincing him that he was in no condition to keep drinking. He even slung one arm over Yunho’s shoulders, who was helping him stay upright.
"You've had enough alcohol," San commented, also making a move to head home.
"You can't drive like this, Woo," one of them said.
"Of course I can! I'm not a pussy like you guys, just watch me!" he said, pulling his car keys out of his pocket, but Yeosang intercepted him.
"Do you want to end up on the news this week? You. are. not. driving." He was dead serious.
"What a buzzkill! Then how do you expect me to get home, fly? You want me to stay here and fuck the old lady?"
"Shut up, it's for your own good," San reprimanded him. "We can give you a ride home."
"Are you going to take me home, Sannie? Like a good little prince?" he teased playfully. San laughed, rolling his eyes.
The group walked out of the bar, Yunho still helping Wooyoung walk straight until they were out on the street heading toward their cars. Before leaving, Yeosang plugged Wooyoung’s address into San’s GPS so he could drop his friend off.
While the others went their separate ways, San helped Wooyoung climb into his truck, leaving him in the passenger seat and getting in through the driver's side, helping him click his seatbelt into place.
When San started the engine, Wooyoung rolled down his window halfway, catching some fresh air.
San kept one hand on the steering wheel and rested the other on his own knee. At one point, Wooyoung grabbed San’s hand and moved it over to his own leg.
"Hey Sannie, I’m the passenger princess," he joked, making San let out a genuine laugh, shaking his head while keeping his eyes on the road.
Not long after, Wooyoung caught San’s attention, breaking out into a cold sweat with half-pale lips. He reached a hand out toward San, motioning for him to pull the truck over.
"What's wrong with you? What happened?" San asked, confused, knitting his brows.
Wooyoung unbuckled his seatbelt, opened the door, and tumbled out of his seat. San quickly followed, running after him.
He stumbled over to a bush, resting his hands on his knees, and started throwing up. San watched him, wrinkling his nose as he scanned their surroundings. It was pitch black, and the streets were completely deserted. No one was watching them.
After a few more minutes, Wooyoung finally finished puking up everything he needed to to feel better. He spat on the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he walked back toward San.
"Man, I feel brand new," he said, resting a hand on San’s shoulder. "I shouldn't have drank that much, damn it..."
"Come on, let's get back in the truck." San helped Wooyoung back into the passenger seat, buckling him in once again before returning to the driver’s side and hitting the road.
"This town sucks," Wooyoung blurted out suddenly, catching San’s attention. San raised an eyebrow. "Don't you think so? I never should've come back here, there’s absolutely nothing in this place. I even tried to get out, but the only thing I could land was a full-time job in a lousy sales office."
"Why didn't you look for a job somewhere else?" San questioned him.
"San, nobody wants a small-town loser from the middle of nowhere who went to community college." Surprise flashed across San’s face as Wooyoung spoke, his voice cracking with emotion, likely a byproduct of the alcohol still heavily running through his system.
"Hey, calm down, man, you shouldn't say things like- "
"But I’m telling the truth!" Wooyoung interrupted, crying like a sloppy drunk. "I feel like my life is completely stuck. There's probably nothing out there for me besides working a phone, calling idiots to sell them health insurance plans, and then going home to see the exact same stupid faces."
San listened to him in silence, not entirely sure how to respond. He hadn't been expecting a drunken emotional breakdown.
"Well, I, uhm..." he attempted to say something.
"But I’m glad you came back, Sannie!" Wooyoung interrupted, completely oblivious to San’s struggle to find words. "I was starting to think you didn't want to hang out with us anymore. You know, because of Y/n."
San tensed up almost immediately, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. "Why do you think that?"
"You barely talk anymore, you haven't gone out with us since you reconnected with her... I don't know, I just figured you chose hoes over bros."
San felt his blood boil at those words, patiently forcing himself to keep his composure just to get there faster, which wouldn't take long given how fast he was driving.
"Forget it, I'm just drunk. Just get me home," Wooyoung finally muttered, rubbing his eyes to wipe away a few stray tears that had gathered.
San got out of his seat and slammed the door hard. He walked around to Wooyoung’s side, unbuckled him, and pulled him up to his feet.
As they walked up to the front entrance, Wooyoung reached into his pockets to pull out his keys, but San stopped him.
"No need." Wooyoung knit his brows at that. He watched, confused, as San unlocked the door with a completely different set of keys.
Straining his eyes to focus on where he actually was, it finally clicked that this wasn't his house.
"What is this?" he asked, dazed, as San stepped inside with him and locked the door behind them. "Why did you bring me to your house? Oh no, man, are you gonna screw me?! Oh my God!"
"What?! Hell no, stop being an idiot," San said, guiding Wooyoung toward a door tucked behind the stairs.
"Then what the hell are you doing?" Wooyoung walked with heavy, clumsy steps. He was dizzy, and the alcohol was still hitting him hard, but he blindly let San lead the way.
San headed down the stairs, supporting Wooyoung’s arm over his shoulders, until they reached the basement, where he finally flipped the lights on.
As his vision cleared and he took in the dimly lit space with old sheets piled up in the corner, Wooyoung started complaining again. "Ugh, what the hell is this? You gonna make me sleep in the middle of this junk, Sannie?"
"Woo, didn't you want to get out of this town?" San asked sarcastically, walking over to a small, weathered wooden chest sitting by a shelf, looking for something. "You're about to go to a much better place."
"What the hell are you talking about? Are you into witchcraft now or something?" Wooyoung just couldn't help himself, irritating San further with every single word.
The putrid stench emanating from the barrels, now hidden underground just past the tunnel, instantly hit Wooyoung’s nostrils, making him grimace. "Dude, what is that horrible smell? Do you take shits down here or something? Ugh,it smells like something died in here. This place must be crawling with rats, I'm out of here."
Before San could even answer, Wooyoung turned his back and headed for the stairs, climbing up them in a dizzy, unbalanced attempt to get out.
But San was faster. He lunged after him and struck him across the head with a crowbar. Wooyoung screamed in pain and tumbled back down the stairs, completely disoriented.
"The hell, you motherfucker?!" he screamed from the floor, bringing his hand up to his head and watching his fingers get coated in blood.
He panicked. His vision was already blurring and the pain in his head was excruciating, but he tried to drag himself up. It was useless, San delivered another blow to his head, tearing a piercing shriek from his throat.
"San... w-why?" he breathed in a faint whisper, collapsing into the bloody puddle on the floor while San stood over him, straddling his body, towering over him.
Even though San was doing this to defend his own honor and not yours, he absolutely loathed the way Wooyoung had been talking about you. How could he speak so poorly of something that belonged to him?!
"If you have a problem with Y/n," he growled, pressing the tip of the crowbar against Wooyoung’s chin, "then you have a problem with me."
Before another word could escape Wooyoung’s mouth, San drove the crowbar with all his might straight into his forehead, puncturing right through his skull.
He then tossed the tool onto the floor and walked over to a side table, grabbing a large, razor-sharp knife resting there.
He returned to Wooyoung’s body, stripping him of his clothes, ripping off all his rings, earrings, accessories, every single thing he had on him. Once the body was completely naked, San drove the knife into the middle of his chest, dragging it down to cut a deep slit all the way to his belly button.
He also sliced a deep gash across his throat, and within seconds, everything was covered in blood, spraying out like a waterfall.
He dragged the lifeless body to the center of the basement, and with practiced ease, hoisted the corpse over his shoulders. Stepping onto a small stepladder, he reached for one of the hooks installed in the ceiling. He had upgraded the setup, adding a massive, sharp metal claw designed to puncture deep and hold heavy weight.
San shoved Wooyoung against the metal, forcing it to pierce straight through his body, leaving him suspended from the hook. He stepped back down to the floor and watched the lifeless body hanging there, the blood dripping and draining out like an animal brought in for slaughter.
Just like a cut of meat at the butcher shop.
He grabbed a trash bag, walked over to Wooyoung’s belongings, and stuffed everything inside, leaving only his phone out. Taking the crowbar, he smashed the device into tiny pieces, striking it repeatedly until some parts crumbled into dust.
He walked up the stairs calmly, stripped off his own clothes upon reaching the laundry room, and threw them into the wash. While waiting for the machine to finish, he crouched down to grab his own phone, opening a recently installed app.
With just a single tap, there it was: your exact location.
It had been difficult, but San had managed to track down a GPS microchip small enough to fit inside the locket, it was the best hiding spot he could think of. It was practical, since you’d be wearing it right on your body.
The interface showed that you were at your parents' house, just like you’d said.
Now, he was finally starting to have everything under control.
∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴
☙.꩜ a/n: Sooo, I thought to myself that maybe some people would find San's idea useless, but here's an explanation:
1. Using the open backyard would obviously give him away, plus buried things can resurface;
2. The shed alone couldn't support the weight of everything, and the rotten smell would be very noticeable to the neighbors;
3. San connected the basement to the shed through the subsoil, thus having plenty of space for a clandestine cemetery and a better way to mask the smell and mess, which would eventually leak out of the shed.
"Why didn't San use the basement from the beginning?"
Because the shed was more useful than the basement in practical terms, it was just easier, but eventually he would need something more complex that could support all his ideas, but the price of this is that his work will have to be much more arduous and meticulous.
titsay
yousharknotpass
janainaart
romaincrisis
areudirty
