Twisted Paradise

She/Her | 25 | 🔞Minors do NOT interact or will be blocked! (Taglist open)

[mimipoke]

☙.꩜ Masterlist

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Ateez:

☙.꩜ Hongjoong (coming soon)

☙.꩜ Seonghwa (coming soon)

☙.꩜ Yunho (coming soon)

☙.꩜ Yeosang (coming soon)

☙.꩜ San

☙.꩜ Mingi

☙.꩜ Wooyoung

☙.꩜ Jongho (coming soon)

[chocolate-salt]

When Choi San gets annoyed...

[mimipoke]

Ooh boy 😮‍💨😩

[mimipoke]

VERMILION - C. SAN

Part 4.

☙.꩜ 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.

☙.꩜ Wc: 16.8k

☙.꩜ Pairing: Psycho!San x afab!reader

☙.꩜ Genre: [+18] angst, thriller (guess i can put it that way), romance, smut

☙.꩜ Warnings: MDNI!;dark themed; MURDERS; blood; extreme violence; traumas; angst; psychopathy; San has mommy issues and a distorted idea of ​​love; San is cold, selfish, self-centered, and toxic; this is not a romanticized relationship; evental smut (with foreplay, oral, piv, etc); representation of sexism and misogyny; dismemberment and some gore things; it may be sensitive for some audiences; you have been warned

THIS IS ONLY FICTIONAL AND DO NOT REPRESENT WHAT ANYBODY MENTIONED ARE IN REAL LIFE NOR HOW DO I PICTURE THEM!

☙.꩜ VERMILION MASTERLIST

☙.꩜ Taglist (open): @hokuuu @deokityu @ithinkthereforeidont

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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.

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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.

Wooyoung...

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?

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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.

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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."

It was a promise.

∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴

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.

And you noticed.

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.

Or Wooyoung.

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.

But he needed more.

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.

He nearly lost his mind.

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."

Wooyoung.

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.

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.

You 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.

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 cock to your mouth, and let your tongue swirl strictly around the tip, 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 tip slip past your lips. It 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 tip 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 member. 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 cock 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 arousal at the sight of your virgin 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 cum 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 tits 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 tit, 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.

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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.

"What's wrong?"

"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..."

"Hm?"

"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.

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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.

“You are such a 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.

"Just get out of here."

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? You 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 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.

"You'll see. Just walk."

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.

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☙.꩜ 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.

[mimipoke]

Hi, guys!!

So, I’ve been wanting to make a taglist for my upcoming works since it’ll take me some time again (I have exams this week and lot of work to do) and I think it would be convenient since it will take a while.

If you're interested to be tagged in my posts from now on, please let me know, but make sure your age is visible (minors out).

[mimipoke]

IM SO EXCITED FOR YOUR FUTURE WORKS

Awwwww stop that, pretty, youll make me blush ❤️

[mimipoke]

☙.꩜ S. Mingi

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Shortfics/Oneshots:

☙.꩜ Cold Lights

[mimipoke]

☙.꩜ J. Wooyoung

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Shortfics/Oneshots:

☙.꩜ Deal with the devil

[mimipoke]

☙.꩜ C. San

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Fics:

☙.꩜ Vermilion

Shortfics/Oneshots:

☙.꩜ Coming Soon

[mimipoke]

☙.꩜ Vermilion - C. San

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☙.꩜ Prologue

☙.꩜ Part 1

☙.꩜ Part 2

☙.꩜ Part 3

☙.꩜ Part 4

Part 5 coming soon

[mimipoke]

COLD LIGHTS - S. MINGI

summary: You’re at a dead end after tangling with some dangerous loan sharks. To make matters worse, your boss, Mingi, is ready to let you go. But, being a saditisc pervert man, he has a filthy and nasty proposal for you to keep your job. Desperate, you're willing to do just about anything.

Pairing: Boss!Mingi x afab!Reader

w.c.: 10,6k

warnings: MDNI; DUBCON; monster cock Mingi; cheating (mg is married); he is super mean and an asshole; death threats (not from him); immorality in the workplace; paying for play; spit in mouth; very filthy and nasty sx; unprotected; degradation and humiliation; dirty talk; creampie; and that's pretty much it.

THIS IS ONLY FICTIONAL AND DO NOT REPRESENT WHAT ANYBODY MENTIONED ARE IN REAL LIFE NOR HOW DO I PICTURE THEM!

IF YOU'RE NOT INTO THIS JUST DON'T READ IT AND KEEP SCROLLING!

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Thursday morning. The alarm went off at 5:00 AM, dragging you out of bed. Work didn't start until 9:00, but you had to get a head start because of the buses, you needed to catch two of them to get there on time.

Your boss didn't tolerate lateness, but who could blame him? At the end of the day, it was your responsibility.

Considering how long it took you to look presentable, plus the commute on two different buses, you had no choice but to wake up at the crack of dawn.

You got out of bed yawning and stretching, feeling like a herd of elephants had trampled you in your sleep.

You woke up way too early, you knew that, and the toll was obvious when you looked at yourself in the bathroom medicine cabinet mirror, the bags under your eyes, your slumped yet tense shoulders, your brittle hair. Exhaustion had become your new normal.

But there was no choice. In the middle of a crisis that made jobs scarce, you needed that paycheck like your life depended on it. And maybe it did.

The debts were piling up. Not just yours, but the ones inherited from your late parents. Their house had been foreclosed on by the bank, and now you were living with your aunt, your only relative in the city. Even so, their personal loans had fallen on you.

On top of that were your own credit card debts, which had led you to resort to drastic measures: loan sharks.

Now, you were suffocating. Part of your salary was automatically garnished by the bank, almost all the rest went to the loan sharks. What was left was barely enough to survive.

It was a snowball effect. At least you could count on your aunt's compassion.

You worked as a marketing analyst at a paper and office supply company. Your salary wasn't half bad, but given your financial situation and lack of other resources, it was never enough.

And following your streak of bad luck, right at the end of the month with only a few cents in your bank account, your shoe gave out and broke while you were putting it on to leave the house. You had to wear a pair of your aunt's instead.

But nothing was so bad that it couldn't get worse.

On the second bus, nearing your workplace, your phone started vibrating incessantly. Sitting in the passenger seat, you pulled it out of your bag, and a familiar number was calling.

Your stomach did a flip instantly.

“Hello?” you answered apprehensively.

“How much longer are you gonna keep paying us chump change, you bitch?” A man’s voice spoke impatiently, already sounding foul.

“I-I paid exactly the installment we agreed on. I told you, I can’t pay more than that, please…” you said, careful to keep your voice down, not wanting anyone on the bus to overhear.

“I don’t care! It’ll take years to pay back what you owe us if you keep sending this pittance you call money!” The pittance he referred to was a massive blow to your pocket every month. “I told you last month that you needed to send more, didn't I? You didn't hold up your end of the deal. My patience has officially run out.”

“I’m going to pay it all, I swear, I’m just a little tight right now. I explained that the bank takes money out of my account before I can even touch it.” You massaged your temples. “We can talk more when I get home, I promise th—”

“I don’t want your goddamn promises. I’m sick of your bullshit and your whining. If you don’t send more money, I’m gonna rip your guts out. I’m fed up!” Your hand almost faltered, a shiver running down your spine as your stomach turned at the threat.

“I-I’ll pay, I’m serious.”

“Talk is cheap, sweetie. I want to see the cash in my account. I’m not playing games. You have until the beginning of the month to pay what you owe, or I’m coming to your house to blow your brains out and saw you into little pieces for my dogs to eat!”

The call ended abruptly, leaving you dazed and shaken, your head spinning and bile rising in your throat. You suddenly forgot how to breathe, overwhelmed by the threat and the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind.

You didn’t even notice you’d missed your stop, only getting off at the next one and walking for several minutes before finally reaching the building. This resulted in you arriving a few minutes past your scheduled time.

After clocking in, you went to your desk and opened your laptop to start working. While you were at it, you noticed out of the corner of your eye that Mingi, your boss, was walking down the hallway with a cup of coffee in his hand, heading toward his private office.

Dammit, he hated lateness.

He looked exceptionally handsome today. You hated noticing that, you felt guilty for finding him attractive since he was your boss and, above all, married. He had a massive, glittering wedding band on his finger. So, you always maintained decorum and kept it professional. Besides, a workplace romance was the furthest thing from rational.

You focused on your work, trying to give it your all to forget the call you’d taken on the bus and to keep from throwing up in front of your colleagues and making a scene.

During that time, you received an email from Mingi through your corporate account asking you to come to his office at the end of the day. You swallowed hard, fearing a warning or some form of disciplinary action for your tardiness, but you acknowledged it.

As requested, when it was time to clock out, you gathered your things and went to his office, knocking on the door and receiving permission to enter.

You walked in feeling bashful, wary because you didn't know what to expect. Your body was already tensing up, your cortisol spiked from all the stress, and now fear was mixing in. You didn't want to get into trouble and hoped he would be compassionate, considering it was the first time in a while that you’d been late.

“Have a seat, please,” Mingi said, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. You did as told.

“Is there a problem, sir?” you asked, trying not to show your apprehension.

“You know, Y/n, you’re a good employee, you really are. But,” the pause he took before continuing sent a shiver through your body, chilling you to the bone and making your skin crawl, “many companies have been going through a rough patch lately, and ours is no different.”

You swallowed hard.

“What do you mean, sir?” You prayed to God that this conversation wasn't heading where you feared it was.

Mingi interlaced his fingers, looking deep into your eyes as if he could scent your emotions, seeing right through your soul.

“We’re undergoing crisis management, and because of that, we’ll need to make some cuts…” You could barely breathe anymore. “We didn’t want to have to do this, but we’re going to have to let some people go.”

You couldn't help but close your eyes for a brief second before taking a deep breath, not wanting to hear the conclusion of the conversation. Mingi was noticing your distress, especially since you weren't exactly doing a good job hiding it.

“Sir…”

“Y/n, I’m sorry, but,” in reality, the last thing Mingi felt was sorry. He was relishing your visible anguish. You were doing a terrible job of masking your emotions, letting all your vulnerability show right in front of him. Fuck, he could get hard just from that. He loved this kind of thing. He hesitated on purpose, just to prolong your agony. “We’re letting you go. Tomorrow will be your last day, you should stop by HR later.”

You felt as if your body had just taken the hit from a freefall of thousands of feet. This couldn't be happening; you didn't want to believe it.

“Mr. Mingi, I—I, please, can’t we—”

“Don’t worry, you’ll receive your severance package with all the benefits you’re owed.” Mingi interrupted.

You couldn't hold it back anymore, your entire body was shaking with distress. You let the tears roll down your cheeks, you had been visibly distraught since he started talking, anyway.

You couldn't think straight, your vision was blurred by tears, and the loan shark's voice from the phone call kept replaying in your head, threatening you.

Even the severance pay wouldn't be enough to cover what was left, the interest had skyrocketed, and the outstanding balance was far beyond your means.

You looked at Mingi, who was leaning back in his chair, unbothered, watching you intently.

“Mr. Mingi, please, reconsider! I can keep working for a reduced salary, I don’t care!” You began to plead, desperate for a deal. You didn’t care if you looked pathetic or if you were embarrassing yourself, you had nothing left to lose.

“Holy shit, don’t you have any pride?” Mingi arched his eyebrows, letting out a stifled laugh as he listened to your whimpering. He was genuinely enjoying the scene, he hadn’t expected this kind of reaction. “Why would anyone want to work for a pay cut with no benefits in return? I mean, that’s not even possible, it would put the company in hot water with the union and labor laws.”

“Please, there has to be another way! I can’t be fired, I—I really need this job.” You were a mess of tears.

“Y/n, it wasn't anything personal. I already told you we’re making cuts.” Mingi was loving how you begged and pleaded as if you didn't have an ounce of pride or decency left. If only you could see his erection behind that desk, he was absolutely bursting with lust.

Watching you break down in tears, begging, your body trembling and your breathing ragged, making your chest heave heavily beneath your tight dress shirt... he could finish right then and there if he kept this up.

Mingi loved humiliation. He loved reducing a woman to nothing, making her just a filthy, pathetic mess. Oh, if you only knew how much you were turning him on by doing that. It even gave him an idea.

As for you, your heart was pounding so hard you were sure you’d have a heart attack at any second. Mingi didn't understand how fucked you were, he didn't get that your life was on a tightrope, and the rope was so thin it was practically a thread.

You were falling apart.

‘’It’s not just that... it’s just that I owe a lot of money to loan sharks. And I have to pay this debt if I don’t want to die. I’m begging you, by all that is holy, don’t fire me! I’ll do anything—I can take on extra responsibilities, I can be useful in any way!”

Anything, you said? That was exactly what Mingi needed to hear. He squeezed the erection through his pants again, feeling like his cock was hard enough to rip through the fabric.

He rested his elbows on the desk and leaned in, getting right in your face. His face wore a cynical smirk, his eyes shimmered with excitement and disdain. He was full of mockery.

“How much do you owe to be this desperate? Tell me.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a knot in your throat, and revealed the total amount you needed to pay to clear your debt.

You weren't made of stone, you felt ashamed, and your stomach was doing somersaults from the whole situation. You wanted to throw up, but you couldn't give in. You didn't know what else to do.

“Holy shit!” Mingi started laughing, leaning back in his swivel chair, acting superior. “How did you manage to run up a debt like that on your salary, and with loan sharks, no less? Are you stupid?”

You stared at your lap, humiliated by his behavior, especially since you knew you really had been stupid and reckless, digging yourself into a bottomless pit.

“I needed to borrow that money...”

Mingi watched you stammer through your sob story like a cat watching a mouse try to protect itself, knowing it would eventually be caught. He licked his lips, relishing the moment.

“That’s a real shame. And right when the loan shark wants to blow your brains out, you’re getting fired...” he said, cold and mocking, jeering at you.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Please...” you said in a whisper.

“You want to keep your job that badly?” he questioned, one eyebrow arched.

“Yes, I do! I already explained, I don’t have any other choice. I’ll do anything!” You said, referring to your job. You tried to take a deep breath and control your heart rate, but it was useless.

“Anything?” he repeated. You nodded frantically. “Well, in that case, there is one thing you can do.”

You felt a spark of relief ignite in your chest upon hearing that. You would do whatever it took if it meant not losing your job.

“What is it, Mingi? Please tell me—I promise I’ll do it!”

“Stand up. Come over here,” he said, leaning back fully into his chair.

You found it strange, but you didn't question him. You weren't in any position to do so, you simply did as he said, standing up and walking around the desk until you were on the same side as him. He moved in his swivel chair, following your movements and turning to face you directly.

Mingi looked up at you, a sickening, arrogant smirk on his face as he massaged his erection. Your eyes widened, and the air escaped your lungs.

You were shocked to see your boss like that. Your eyes instinctively flickered to the wedding ring on his finger.

He began to unbuckle his belt.

“If you want to keep your job, come over here and prove to me just how willing you are to keep working for me, Y/n. I want to see your devotion.” He looked at you hungrily, his pupils completely dilated.

“What are you doing?! This is absurd, what do you think I am?” Tears began to stream down your face again, hot and thick, your ordeal seemed to have no end.

“What I think doesn’t matter to you. Don't you want to pay off your debt and keep that little airhead of yours intact?” Mingi countered smugly, his voice dripping with arrogance.

“But... but... you’re married!” you insisted.

“And why does that matter to you?” Mingi began to lose his patience with your reluctance, deciding to be even crueler. “You said you’d do anything, didn’t you? Well, then, this is the only way I won't fire you.”

You swallowed hard, taking a step back.

“Think carefully, Y/n...” Mingi continued. “Take one more step back, and consider yourself officially fired. And from what you told me, I think you should consider yourself a dead woman, too.” You squeezed your eyes shut, tears blurring your vision, his words feeling like a hand squeezing your heart inside your chest.

“This is... so fucking messed up,” you whispered.

“I know. And that’s why, if you accept, I’ll give you the money you need. I’ll pay off your debt, Y/n.” You caught your breath, suspicious. He couldn’t be serious. “What, don’t believe me? I always keep my word. If you satisfy me, I’ll clear your entire debt myself. You’ll keep your job and you won’t owe those loan sharks another dime.”

You felt trapped by Mingi’s proposal. You couldn't deny it was extremely tempting, even though you’d be submitting to something disgusting and throwing your dignity in the trash, you’d receive money in return that you could hardly earn any other way.

Just the thought of getting rid of the loan sharks and finally getting your life back on track and being at peace...

Noticing your internal conflict, Mingi laughed, amused as he watched you question your own values.

“Come here, you know you want this.” He unbuttoned his pants, tugging the waistband down to reveal his painfully hard cock inside his boxers, pulsing.

You let out a sigh of defeat. You knew you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself after this, but you decided to push all your values aside for the moment.

With a few more steps, you were close to him, and he looked at you expectantly, relishing the moment. You dropped to your knees, and he pulled his cock out, making your eyes widen.

the smirk on his lips only intensified at your reaction.

It was big. Really big. Not just that, but thick. It was heavy and girthy, with veins bulging and the head already dripping with pre cum.

He stroked himself gently, up and down, tilting your chin up with his calloused fingers, bringing your face inches away from his shaft.

You squeezed your eyes shut before finally doing what he was waiting for. You gripped the base and looked up at him, he had one elbow on the desk, his head tilted and resting on his hand.

He looked so snobbish, he was making a point to show just how arrogant and superior he was.

You brought his cock to your mouth, licking the head first and letting your saliva run down the shaft, coating it.

Your lips brushed against it, the scent of his masculinity filling your nostrils as you teased the length of him with your tongue, licking from base to tip before slowly taking him into your mouth, being careful not to graze his sensitive member with your teeth.

He reached for your head, panting. “That’s it, keep going.”

You worked hard to take as much of him as you could into your mouth, feeling his size fill the space. With your hand, you stroked whatever was left outside, sucking on him.

Your tongue went around and around the tip, putting every effort into stimulating him. He threw his head back in approval.

“You know,” he began, his voice husky and deep. “I can barely fuck my wife ever since I laid eyes on you.”

You couldn't help but look up at him, confused, but you didn't stop your movements, bobbing your head up and down and drooling all over him.

He smirked at your expression.

“All I can think about is wrecking you,” he admitted, watching you with predatory eyes. His lips were parted as he stared at you intently. With his hand on your head, he slid his fingers through your hair, gripping the strands firmly and pulling your head back. “Here, play with my balls.”

He guided your head down to his balls, rubbing your face against them.

You stuck your tongue out and licked the sensitive skin of his scrotum, tracing the lines on it before taking them into your mouth.

He let out a raspy grunt, pressing your head against his balls while you stroked the tip of his member. Mingi pulled your head back again, only to shove it against his dick.

He was commanding your moves now, and there was nothing gentle about him. He was blunt, rough, going hard, his hand pulling and messing up your hair.

Mingi used his other hand to grip your chin firmly, forcing your mouth open to take his cock. Then, he shoved your head forward without any care, making your nose hit his pubic bone as his cock went all the way into your mouth.

You wanted to cough, instinctively, your gag reflex kicked in, but he held your head still while his cock hit the back of your throat, choking you.

You grabbed his thighs, squeezing them and patting him to signal that you couldn't breathe, but he ignored you and kept your head pinned.

You made embarrassing noises, gagging on him, as more saliva ran from your mouth, making a mess all over him. Finally, he let you take a breath.

With his cock completely coated in spit and his own fluids, he held you in place. He gripped the base of his member and brought it to your face, slapping it against your skin.

His cock was just as heavy as you’d thought, the hard, veiny flesh smacking your cheek with force before he rubbed it all over your face, spreading the mess and turning you into a total disaster.

“Stick your tongue out.” You obeyed him, and Mingi repeatedly slapped his cock against your tongue, splashing pre cum on it. “Keep your eyes on me. Don’t look away.”

He let go of your hair and rested his hand on the back of your neck, giving you back control of your moves. You gripped his base again and sucked as much of him as you could fit in your mouth, jerking him off with both hands.

Your jaw was already aching from holding your mouth open to accommodate Mingi’s cock, making you slow down the pace. But with a look of disapproval from him, you sped back up.

On one hand, it was better for you to go faster and make him come soon to get this over with.

“Look at you,” he began again. “Sucking your boss off like a bitch right in his office. You’re so filthy.” His voice carried a mocking tone, enjoying watching you make yourself insignificant before him.

Maintaining eye contact as he ordered, you intensified the blowjob, swirling your tongue around his shaft, letting the tip of his cock rub against the roof of your mouth, eliciting hoarse, deep groans from him, growling.

Feeling he was close, he stood up and gripped both sides of your head with his hands, holding you pinned in place.

Mingi began to fuck your mouth, and you started gagging and coughing clumsily again. It embarrassed you, but it only excited Mingi further.

Hearing your primitive sounds, listening to you make wet noises on his cock while choking as he face fucked you all the way to your throat made his cock pulse.

“You drive me crazy,” Mingi gripped your hair tight, his thrusts were faster now and had turned sloppy, indicating he was close. “I’m gonna cum in your pretty little mouth. Swallow every drop, or I’m gonna get fucking mad at you, you hear me?”

You only managed to babble a sound that didn't even resemble a yes, due to his cock brutally sliding in and out of your mouth.

With a guttural, raspy groan, Mingi came in your mouth, pulling back just enough to watch his cock shoot cum into your mouth, painting your tongue white and forming a gooey pool mixed with your saliva.

“Don’t swallow yet. Just wait,” You did as he asked, obediently but suspiciously. Mingi reached for his phone and opened the camera, making you panic as he pointed it at you.

“Be quiet, baby. I need a souvenir of you. I can’t let this sight perish from my memory, I need to record this.” Hesitant, you remained with your mouth open, full of cum, looking at him with pleading eyes. He gripped your neck tightly, leaning till his face reached your ear. “Listen, if you don’t let me do what I want, you’ll be breaking our deal...”

You just closed your eyes for an instant before continuing to submit, and without waiting for any other reaction from you, he photographed you in that state.

“Now you can swallow. Take it all. It’s nutritious.” he teased, laughing mockingly as he watched you swallow his cum.

You took a deep breath, trying to catch your wind, which was when Mingi offered you a box of tissues. You accepted them without looking at him again, but he didn’t seem to care anymore.

You cleaned yourself up as best you could before standing back up. Your knees ached a bit, and if it weren’t for your pants, they’d surely be beet red.

Mingi approached you with his phone in hand, showing you a bank transfer receipt. A ridiculously large amount had been sent to your account. However, it was still less than the total debt.

“A little treat for the photo,” he explained. “Give me your phone. I’m going to put my number in and send you instructions soon.”

“What?” You frowned. This wasn’t over?

“Is there a problem?” He looked at your face with disdain. “Oh, don't tell me you thought that was it.” Your silence was enough for him to mock you once more.

“How many times am I going to have to do thi—”

You were harshly interrupted as Mingi shoved you against the wall, gripping your neck firmly, squeezing, but not enough to choke you.

“As many times as I want, you bitch. Or did you think I was going to give you money without fucking that little pussy of yours first?” he growled, his nose pressed against yours.

He moved his hand between your legs, drawing a startled gasp from you as he kept you pinned against the wall. He rubbed his fingers over your clothed pussy, feeling the moisture from your core soaking the fabric.

He laughed and you hated yourself for being wet.

He bit your bottom lip hard, making you whimper in pain before he finally let go and let you leave.

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Friday morning. The alarm went off a bit later than usual this time, ringing at 7:30. Last night, you took an uber home since you’d received some money and felt safer that way.

Today, you were going to call a car again. So, you woke up later than usual to get more sleep. As it turned out, that didn't actually give you more rest, because you had trouble falling asleep last night.

You felt dirty and couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d done with your boss at the office, as if you were a prostitute.

On top of that, Mingi had messaged you that same night, letting you know that today he was going to take you to a place he knows, so you’d have more space and comfort, just the way he likes it.

That left a bitter taste in your mouth, but you couldn't lie, sucking him off seemed a lot easier after you’d actually received the money.

People like Mingi didn't know the value of a dollar because they were used to having everything. But for you, receiving a bank transfer with as many digits as your entire salary was beyond your reality.

That was another thing that kept you awake for a while, making you question your own morality. What would be harder? Simply giving in to Mingi, a guy you’d always found attractive and hot, and getting paid for it...

Or taking your chances out there, in the middle of a crumbling economy, with loan sharks wanting to skin you alive?

It was obvious. Mingi was right about you being stupid for getting involved with those guys, but you didn't want to feel even stupider by throwing away the chance to finally get on your feet. You couldn't refuse money you’d likely never see again in your life, money you knew would take years of hard work to save.

Even if it meant submitting to a degrading situation. This was no time to be moralistic. It was a necessity, and that was exactly how you were going to look at it.

You arrived on time, starting your day as usual while Mingi seemed busy in his office. He had hardly come out at all, and when he did, he paid you no attention.

Better that way, you thought. At least you could breathe.

After lunch, as you returned to your desk, your phone started buzzing with notifications.

Mingi.

“When you clock out, go wait for me in the parking garage.”

You limited your response to a simple confirmation message and turned your attention back to your work.

At the end of the day, as the clock hit the end of the shift, everyone started gathering their things and leaving quietly. You took your time on purpose, shutting down your laptop, tidying your desk, and grabbing your bag.

You were the last one to leave the office, making sure to take the elevator alone down to the parking garage, just as Mingi had ordered.

You waited discreetly behind a pillar in a darker corner until Mingi appeared. Noticing you, he caught your eye and motioned for you to follow him.

The two of you walked in silence to his car.

In stark contrast to his rudeness and hostility from yesterday, he opened the passenger door for you. You got in, and he walked around to the driver's side and started the engine.

You remained silent, staring out the window to avoid eye contact, but for some reason, your eyes were drawn to him like a magnet. You stole a glance, noticing the wedding band on his finger.

You let out a sigh.

He parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt; you did the same, realizing you’d reached your destination. Getting out of the car, you saw the facade of a beautiful, elegant restaurant, clearly a luxury one. A valet quickly arrived, greeted him, and took the keys to park the car.

Mingi walked in with you, so calm and collected that it didn't even seem like he was cheating on his wife with his employee, taking her out to dinner before the slaughter.

The hostess led you to a reserved, discreet table, just as Mingi had requested upon entering.

The seating consisted of booths, and Mingi made a point of having you sit right next to him, very close to his body.

“Have you ever been to a place like this?” he asked while opening the menu left by the waiter. You shook your head. “I figured. Did you know that seafood can be an aphrodisiac? It helps increase the libido.”

You flushed, looking down at your hands.

“I—I didn't know.” Mingi gave a lopsided smile as the waiter approached again.

Without asking what you wanted or even checking if you’d eat the same thing as him, Mingi ordered the appetizers and the main course, both seafood, along with drinks, completely ignoring your preferences.

For the appetizer, Mingi ordered oysters. For the main course, lobster.

Seeing that you seemed restless, he spoke up again. “Don't worry, you'll like it.”

“It’s just that I’ve never had oysters before...” You didn't want to come across like some poor country girl or look even more like an idiot to him.

“I told you, you'll like it.” He placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly over the fabric of your pencil skirt.

He leaned in with a predatory look in his eyes, like a hunter. He pressed his nose against your neck and took in your scent, sending shivers through your body and making your skin crawl.

“You look extra hot in this skirt. You put it on just to tease me, didn't you?” Mingi tilted your face toward him by your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. He lowered his eyes to your mouth and brushed his fingertips over your plushy lips.

You didn't even know how to answer him; he was making you nervous and tense.

“People are going to see us like this,” you said, ashamed of being caught by onlookers in an intimate moment with your boss in the middle of a public place.

“I don't care about that one bit. In fact, it’s exciting that they might see us, don’t you think?” Mingi brushed his lips against your ear, training them down to your neck, where he lightly nibbled your skin before pressing a soft kiss there.

You suppressed a gasp, flushing deeply at the contact that left you flustered in the middle of the restaurant. All you could think about at that moment was how embarrassed you’d be to be seen like this, as if you had no scruples.

He pulled back when the waiter arrived at the table with the appetizers, a small tray of fresh oysters and lemon wedges.

He also brought white wine, pouring a glass for both you and Mingi. However, before you could take a sip, Mingi stopped you, preventing you from drinking.

“No alcohol for you.” He asked the waiter to bring water and ice instead, before taking a sip from his own glass. “You’re not having a single drop; I want you completely sober.”

You fought the urge to huff and roll your eyes. Just when a bit of alcohol would have been perfect to relax your body and calm your nerves. 

Son of a bitch.

Mingi placed a hand on your back, nudging you slightly toward the table, encouraging you to take an oyster while he picked one up for himself.

You couldn't hide your look of disapproval as you stared at the mollusks arranged in shells on the tray. Hesitantly, you picked one up and looked at Mingi.

“Eat.” he said, sharp and authoritative, before eating his own oyster without breaking eye contact with you.

You ate it reluctantly, feeling the soft, slippery texture play in your mouth. As you bit down, it was as if a burst of seawater flavor exploded inside, followed by a slightly sweet finish.

It wasn’t that bad. You couldn't say for sure if you liked it, but at least it wouldn't be a torture to eat.

Mingi gave a victorious smile, motioning for you to have more.

You stared at the wedding band on his finger as he took another sip of his white wine, for the thousandth time since the day before.

“Won’t your wife get suspicious, since you haven't gone home yet?” you asked boldly. You were already neck deep in this situation, and he had been arrogant and mocking the whole time, it wouldn't hurt to be a little sassy.

Mingi clicked his tongue, poking the inside of his cheek with it before answering. “It’s common for me to work late sometimes. She’s used to it.”

You almost threw up at the casual way he spoke, showing total indifference and coldness. His wife had to be a poor soul to be married to a man like that, you thought. Given how natural he was being, this certainly wasn’t the first time he’d cheated on her.

Time inside the restaurant seemed to pass slower than usual. It felt as if everything was lagging on purpose, prolonging that cold, strange moment.

The main course was served: lobster accompanied by potato mousseline and tomato confit. It was exquisite, you had never eaten anything as delicious in your life. It was a rare moment, considering that if it weren’t for the circumstances, you would never set foot in a place like this.

Whatever Mingi ordered was surely pocket change to him, but for you, spending money there was unthinkable. The cheapest item on the menu would likely still be too expensive for you.

The entire time, Mingi didn't spare you from intense looks that made you feel naked. He frequently ran his hand over your leg under the table, squeezing your thigh and, every now and then, sliding his fingers under your skirt to feel the heat of your skin.

To your relief, he didn't go very far, only caressing as far as his fingers could reach while the cotton fabric of your skirt kept your thighs covered.

Once you both finished eating, Mingi called for the check, left a few bills in the bill tray, and stood up, offering his hand to help you up.

You walked calmly out of the restaurant, and Mingi waited for a few brief moments for the valet to return with his car and hand back the keys.

You got back into the car, feeling an icy chill shiver through your body, making you wrap your arms around yourself. The weather wasn't cold, but the entire atmosphere made you feel frozen to the core.

He leaned toward you again to buckle your seatbelt, it might have looked like a gentlemanly gesture, but he was just making a move. He inhaled audibly near you, making sure you noticed him taking in your scent, and as he latched the belt, he nuzzled your neck again, this time grazing his teeth against your earlobe.

He straightened up in the driver's seat and started the car. After a few minutes, he reached over and rested a hand on your leg, letting it sit on your thigh. Soon, Mingi was caressing your leg, squeezing your flesh until he hitched up the hem of your skirt and pressed his palm directly against your bare skin.

You gasped at the contact, feeling his fingers stroke your inner thigh while he kept his eyes on the road.

His touch was hot, sending chills over your skin, and you hated that you felt electrified by such intimate contact.

Shortly after, Mingi pulled into a roadside motel. You wanted to roll your eyes at the place, especially after he’d taken you to such a fine, high end restaurant. But you couldn't complain, it wasn't like you were playing the part of a puritan.

Even though you’d had that moment with him at the restaurant and the time in the car during the drive, the second you stepped into the room, you didn't even have time to breathe or mentally prepare for what was coming next.

Mingi lunged at you like a feral wolf, pinning you against the wall and pressing the full weight of his body against yours.

His cock was already rock hard, aching inside his pants and straining to be free. You could feel his bulge poking into your stomach, the heat radiating from him warmed your skin and made your lower abdomen tingle.

His mouth found yours, clashing your lips together and kissing you with the hunger of a pack of wolves. He explored your mouth with a fierce, greedy intensity while his hands snaked over your body, tracing your curves with precision, grabbing your flesh every now and then and squeezing it in his palms.

You sighed into his mouth, your hands gripping his broad shoulders, holding on tight as he groped you. His tongue invaded your mouth without asking for permission, tangling with yours in a rushed, voracious rhythm.

The kiss intensified by the second. Mingi explored your mouth as if his life depended on it, you were pressed so tightly together that you could feel his heartbeat.

Still pressing your bodies together, Mingi moved one hand to your breast, still covered by your shirt, while simultaneously sliding his other hand down to your ass, grabbing it firmly and squeezing your butt between his fingers.

Your body grew hotter with every passing second. He used his own feet to nudge yours apart, forcing your legs open wider, and rubbed his clothed erection against you, letting you feel the full, hard length of him. Mingi let go of your breast only to hitch up your skirt, pulling it up until he could see your panties, giving your legs more freedom and increasing the contact between your bodies.

You couldn't hold back a groan when you felt his cock rubbing directly against your pussy through the fabric of your underwear. He was applying so much pressure and grinding in such a way that you could clearly feel his foreskin moving.

He broke the kiss, and as you gasped for air, he trailed his lips down to your neck, planting wet kisses all the way to your shoulder, punctuating them with bites, each one more intense than the last.

He held you by your ass, his hips grinding shamelessly against yours with pressure and vehemence, and you spread your legs wider to give him more contact.

Mingi reached for your shirt, impatient with the buttons as he tried to force it open. You quickly stopped him from ruining your clothes, unbuttoning it for him, and he hurriedly shoved the fabric off your shoulders.

He gripped your breasts firmly, cupping them, then squeezing and massaging them. Every so often, he would rub his thumb over your nipple through the bra until he finally pulled the cup down to expose your tits.

You moaned when he pinched your sensitive nipples, nipping at the tips as if he wanted to wring something out of them. He took his time with your tits, pinching them and pressing his thumb down hard, focused on leaving them red and marked.

Soon after, Mingi leaned down and took them into his mouth, sucking on them and grazing his teeth over the surface while keeping his hands cupping them. He flicked his tongue across your nipple in long strokes, the tip circling it and applying a delicious pressure that sent an electric charge through your body, your hands gripped the hair at the nape of his neck as you let out a long, drawn out moan.

Mingi took your nipple fully into his mouth and began to suckle, creating an intense pressure in your breast and a conflicting sensation, you couldn't decide if you loved or hated it. A moment later, he pulled away, dragging his lips across your thin, soft skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses.

He alternated the kisses with bites, each one becoming harder than the last, making you tremble and whimper against him, but that only encouraged him to go further. He left a hickey in the cleavage between your breasts, and just above the curve of your chest, he sank his teeth in deeper, drawing a fussy whimper from you.

Mingi left pools of drool and trails of saliva over your breasts, purposely doing a sloppy job just for the satisfaction of seeing your tits glisten with his spit over the hickeys and bite marks, leaving you a mess.

He brought his lips back up to your neck, kissing your skin as he tugged at the fabric of your skirt, which had already been hitched up to expose your bottom, trying to force the garment down. You intervened, just as you had with your shirt, stopping him from tearing the fabric,  you quickly unzipped it and pushed the skirt down to your feet, kicking it aside.

Mingi moved his lips to your ear, sending shivers through your body, while his hand slid down to your clothed pussy. He wasn't gentle when he touched you, he was rough from the start, feeling the heat radiating from your core.

He rubbed his hand over the thin fabric of your panties, cupping your cunt with pressure. Mingi rubbed his fingers over the damp patch forming at the bottom of the fabric, soaking it even more. Without any care, he used two fingers to press against your opening through the garment, shoving the panties inside as best he could. You whimpered against him, filling his ears with what sounded like the most beautiful melody to him.

Meanwhile, his mouth teased your skin, dragging his wet, plushy lips along the curve of your ear, he let the air in his lungs escape so you could feel his hot breath blowing against the sensitive skin, sending waves vibrating through your nerves. Mingi then distributed more wet kisses until he caught your lobe between his teeth, nibbling it hungrily and dragging his teeth with steady force.

His hand was now rubbing your pussy vigorously in circular motions, still through your panties, leaving the fabric completely soaked.

Until, suddenly, he pulled away, and you almost lost your balance from the loss of support against his body.

“Take off your panties.” he said, his eyes clouded as if he were already drunk on you.

You obeyed, removing the last piece of clothing from your body, but before you could drop it somewhere on the floor, he intervened, holding out his hand for you to give them to him.

You frowned slightly, hesitant. He simply arched an eyebrow with a serious expression, and you placed the garment in his hand.

Mingi brought your panties to his nose, smelling them as if they were a bottle of pure perfume, drugging himself on your scent without breaking eye contact. Your eyes widened, your cheeks flushing a deep crimson in shame, unable to believe he was actually doing that.

You watched him inhale the scent of your panties as if it bewitched him, making him even hungrier, before he tucked them away inside his pants pocket.

“On your knees.” he dictated authoritatively.

You knelt right where you were, and he took another step forward, causing his bulge to poke against your face.

Mingi grabbed your hair, pulling your head against his erection and rubbing your face along the entire length of it through his pants, making you feel every single inch.

He removed his belt, unbuttoning his pants and sliding the zipper down, pushing the waistband and his underwear down just far enough for his hard cock to spring out, smacking against your face.

With one of his hands pulling you close by the nape of your neck, urging you to suck him off, you did just that.

You gripped his cock by the base, stroking him a bit and using the tip of your thumb to spread the moisture pooling at the tip before bringing your mouth to his dick and taking the head, making him release the air trapped in his lungs as he threw his head back.

You started slowly, gradually moistening his shaft with saliva, pushing his length inside bit by bit to let your jaw adjust to his size while your hand jerked off the rest.

You used your tongue to wet his cock, making it easier to slide it into your mouth, you let your saliva coat him, the moisture pooling in your mouth and dripping down his member as you spread it even more with your hand.

He kept one hand on top of your head, gripping your hair to hold you in place, and you prepared yourself mentally, already predicting what he would do next.

Mingi moved his other hand to the back of your neck and began to face-fuck you. Unlike you, he didn't do it gradually. He thrust with power, hard and rough.

You felt the tip of his cock hitting your throat, triggering your reflexes, while your hands gripped his thighs for better stability.

He increased the speed of his thrusts, the friction of his cock against your mouth caused your saliva to mix with his fluids, forming a sticky goo that drooled from the corners of your mouth and coated his shaft, leaving it slippery and soaking wet.

He grunted and groaned hoarsely as he used and abused your mouth, making your jaw ache from the stretch you forced to accommodate his size.

Mingi gripped your head firmly and face fucked you so hard that his cock slid past your throat as if you were swallowing him whole, making you gag as the vulgar sound of saliva bubbled.

He held his cock still in your throat, pressing your head against his pubic bone so you couldn't pull away, preventing you from breathing properly until you tapped his thigh, choked by his shaft.

He pulled out completely, letting you breathe for only a few seconds before shoving himself back into your mouth and pinning you to his cock again. Mingi repeated this several times until tears were streaming from your eyes and your face was deep red from the lack of air.

Mingi pulled you up by your neck, forcing you to stand, and promptly shoved you onto the bed in the middle of the room.

You felt so small in front of him, so vulnerable and embarrassed to be completely naked and already looking like a total mess, while he was still fully clothed, with only his waistband pushed down.

He remained standing, watching you while one of his hands slowly stroked his hard length. His eyes were intoxicatingly dark, his shadow filled gaze fixed on you as you sat on your ankles in the middle of the bed, watching him intently.

“Show yourself to me, pretty,” Mingi said, making you murmur a confused hm, but he just kept looking at you expectantly.

Your hesitation made him repeat: “Open your legs and show yourself to me.” He spat out each word harshly and impatiently, sending a shiver down your spine.

Shy and utterly embarrassed, you did as he said. This wasn't the kind of thing you usually did, so your movements were awkward and unnatural.

However, that didn't matter to Mingi. Your lack of grace only turned him on, it was exactly your humiliation that kept his cock rock hard.

You lay back on the bed, propped up on your elbows, calmly spreading your legs and opening yourself up for him to see.

He grinned wickedly, approving of the view you were giving him.

“Now, sweetheart, get on your knees and arch your ass for me.” You did as he said, settling into a position on all fours. You figured he wouldn't want you burying your face in the mattress. Not yet. “Good. Now use those little fingers of yours to show me that pretty little pussy.”

The fuck.

Hesitation hit you full force again, your brow furrowed and your body locked up, unsure if you’d understood exactly how he wanted you to do it. Did he want you to touch yourself or something?

A sharp smack against your ass made you arch your back and yelp in pain and surprise. He had slapped your butt, hitting you hard with his hand, you could even feel the ring on his finger sting your skin.

“Don’t make me impatient, Y/n. Do as I say, and do it now.” He spat out every word, annoyed, his voice carrying a darkness that masked the lust he felt in making you submit.

You took a breath and did as he ordered, sliding your hand down your stomach and between your legs, caressing your exposed pussy.

He hummed in approval, stroking your ass where he’d slapped it, soothing the area.

“Now use your fingers to spread that little cunt open for me.”

Since Mingi couldn't see your face due to the position, you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing a hole would open in the bed and swallow you whole so you wouldn't have to perform such obscenities.

With no other choice and knowing you were there for a reason, you obeyed immediately, making a 'V' with your fingers and pulling your folds apart, exposing your opening.

Mingi gave a victorious, smug smile from behind you, relishing the sight. His cock twitched, his veins pulsed with excitement and the tip dripped with pre cum.

“That’s it, baby, keep it like that. Show that pussy to your boss.” He caressed your ass, gripping and squeezing the flesh, sinking his fingers into your juicy buns. Then, Mingi grabbed your ass and pulled your cheeks apart, leaving you vulgarly exposed to him while you kept your fingers spreading your entrance.

In a way, the situation was making your pussy wet, a trail of lubrication leaked from your core, leaving a thick streak on your intimacy, between your folds and wetting your clit.

Mingi watched it all with pleasure, and to your surprise, he slowly spat right on your asshole and watched it run down your crack until it hit your pussy, messing up your slit and hole. His cock vibrated on its own as he watched the saliva wet your entrance.

Unable to take it anymore, he pulled away and hurriedly stripped off his shirt and pants, standing completely naked just like you. He moved back to the bed, keeping you with your ass arched up.

Mingi gripped his cock by the base and slapped it against your pussy, rubbing it between your soft folds before he started to shove it into your entrance.

You gasped at the skin on skin contact and the sheer force he was using, careless and rough, leaving you tense.

“W-Wait, hold on, aren't you going to use a condom?!” you questioned him worriedly, looking at him over your shoulder. He just scoffed.

“Relax, I’m all clean if that’s what’s worrying you. And besides,” he thrust his hips against yours with force, forcing the tip of his cock inside you and drawing a pained moan from your lips. “I’ve had the snip. I wouldn’t give bitches like you the chance to trap me with a pregnancy.”

Your lips thinned into a straight line, annoyed by his arrogance and stupidity, as you looked back toward the headboard.

Your hands gripped the sheets, bunching them into knots as Mingi shoved his hips against you once more, forcing his length into your pussy, drawing moans that wavered between discomfort and pleasure.

The fact that his cock was completely wet and lubricated, thanks to the mess you’d left him in, combined with the spit and your own moisture, allowed his shaft to slide in without much trouble.

However, his size was too much for you. His large cock, swollen and engorged with thick veins running along its length, his girth made it feel like your pussy was being torn apart, as he didn't even give you time to adjust.

Mingi thrust his hips hungrily, and with each stroke, more of his cock entered your pussy until you finally felt the tip hit your cervix, letting out a loud, drawn-out moan.

Just like that, he established an intense rhythm. He moved brutally and roughly, grabbing your ass.

His cock pulsed inside you, feeling your heat and your gummy walls hugging him as your back arched. You whimpered, hating how your body was responding so positively to him, your pussy throbbed, coating him in your stickiness.

He filled you completely, going deep and hard, relishing in your needy moans.

“You’re so hot, baby,” he growled, staring at the way his cock slid in and out of your cunt, messy with the mix of body fluids, forming a ring of cream at the base of his shaft. He reached for your hair with one hand, gripping the strands and pulling back, forcing you to arch your back even further. “Look at you, taking it from your boss for money. You’re a real whore, Y/n!”

He mocked you as he drove deep into your pussy, watching your ass move, grinding against your hips, the curve of your waist contrasting with the swell of your backside, his gaze occasionally flickering down to your asshole.

Shortly after, he stopped, letting go of your hair only to grab your ankle, making you turn over on the bed until your back was against the mattress.

You felt empty without his cock inside you, already missing his thickness sliding against your walls.

Mingi climbed over you, gripping your face firmly and squeezing your jaw with force, making your lips pout as you looked up at him with glossy eyes.

“Open your mouth,” he said hoarsely, his voice deep and strained.

You opened it instantly. He spat, forming a pool on your tongue, you widened your eyes and used every ounce of strength in your body to suppress a gag, feeling nauseated by the gesture.

He squeezed your jaw again, forcing your mouth shut.

“Swallow.” You shook your head, squirming under him, and with your mouth forced shut, you couldn't stop your reflexes anymore, you heaved, gagging on his spit as disgust washed over you. “Swallow!”

Mingi held your jaw tight, locking it in place and forcing his hand against your mouth, preventing you from opening it.

You writhed and almost threw up, but you finally gave in and swallowed, letting out a muffled whimper against his hand and a high pitched grunt.

“Just like that, good girl.” He cupped your cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

Moving over you, he lined his tip up with your entrance and shoved his cock back inside, making you groan loudly and instinctively grab his back.

Mingi grabbed one of your legs behind the knee, hiking it up to his shoulder and pinning it against your chest. You moaned and sobbed, feeling his cock go even deeper, kissing your cervix. You could almost feel him hitting your uterus directly.

You felt your voice failing, moaning incessantly, feeling numb as his cock frictioned against your walls after they had settled around him again.

The sheer girth of his cock caused a slight ache, but he filled you so well, providing an intoxicating pleasure that made your pussy throb and get so wet with excitement, your hole was slippery, and the sound of your bodies clashing together produced vulgar noises.

You moaned with a needy edge, digging your nails into his back, letting the pleasure he was giving you flow through your touch. You looked at him with deer eyes while he fucked you hard and balls deep, his gaze wrapping around you like a cloud, as if nothing else existed in the world but him.

Mingi grinned wickedly, satisfied with his effect on you.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asked, his voice low and husky as he brushed his nose against yours. “It does, doesn't it? Let me hear those beautiful sounds coming out of your mouth.” Mingi slid a hand between your bodies, reaching for your pussy and caressing your clit.

He toyed with his fingers along your slit, feeling his cock slide in slippery and loud, before stopping to pull you by the waist and lying back on the bed.

Mingi pulled you up to mount him, he rested his head on the soft, plush pillow while watching you settle onto his lap and grip his wet shaft, lining it up with your hole before slowly sliding down, letting his cock be buried completely inside you.

He was sensitive, feeling like he was on fire with the pleasure you were causing him, his groin throbbed hot, wanting to release his seed, thick and warm.

You began to move slowly, watching Mingi knit his brows together and release the air from his lungs in a deep groan, showing just how sensitive his cock was, and you took the hint to move even slower.

You leaned back a bit, resting your hands on his thighs, grinding your hips slowly and giving him a perfect view of your pussy deliciously swallowing his cock. He stared at your folds being parted by his length sinking into your hole, the creamy ring around his base sticking to your skin and forming thin viscous white strings every time you bottomed out and rose back up.

Mingi felt like he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer and brought one of his hands to your intimacy again, rubbing your clit rhythmically with his thumb, with a light pressure.

You increased the speed at which you bounced on his cock, moaning louder since you were also sensitive and more stimulated by his touch.

“Oh, yes, please...” you whimpered, feeling him leading you to the edge, your body began to tremble over his.

“Come for me, baby. Let me see you fall apart on my cock,” Mingi said, enjoying the sight of you raving in pleasure on top of him, grinding hard and making a mess of his pubic area with your wetness.

“Please, don’t stop, please, please, please...” you begged repeatedly till you hardly knew what you were asking for anymore, as he kept your clit perfectly stimulated. Your eyes were clouded, your vision blurry.

Not long after, you shuddered, your legs tensed over him while you writhed on top of him, and he watched you come on his cock, your walls contracting repeatedly and squeezing him, driving him insane.

He didn’t give you a moment to breathe, feeling like he was about to come, Mingi pulled you back, this time moving you to the middle of the bed as he kept you on your knees with your ass arched, shoving himself inside you in one single thrust.

He was being very vocal, shamelessly letting out deep noises and strained groans, until after a few more thrusts he came. He felt his cock pulse powerfully, releasing all the cum trapped inside that had been fighting to be let loose in you, filling your hole and painting your walls white as he let out a guttural roar, shooting inside you.

Mingi was breathing raggedly. He pulled out of you slowly, holding you firmly in place by your hips, and leaned down so his face was level with your core.

He pressed his palms against your ass, spreading the cheeks wide, once again fully exposing your holes to him. He watched your hole, filled with his cum, pulsing sensitively and leaking.

He watched intently as your pussy spilled his cream, dripping down your folds. Mingi brought his fingers to your cunt, rubbing them through your slit and spreading his cum even more all over your pussy, making a gooey mess between your legs.

Mingi pulled back, keeping his fingers suspended, and when you turned toward him, he brought them to your face.

“Clean it for me, pretty.” You wrapped your lips around his fingers, sucking and licking the viscosity off until they were clean.

You sat on the edge of the bed, catching your breath while he turned his back to you and started to get dressed.

You stared at the floor, feeling self conscious after all the ecstasy went down, wrapping your arms around your naked body.

Mingi approached you and placed a hand on your shoulder, but you kept your gaze down, staring at his shoes. He caught your chin with his fingers and lifted your head to look at him.

He said nothing, simply staring at you for a few seconds before giving a small, faint smirk, letting his thumb caress your cheek before letting you go.

Reaching for his phone, he began to tap on it, his thumb gliding over the screen as he typed things you had no inkling of. With his actions hidden from view and your own mind in a haze, you couldn't process a single thought.

As he tucked the phone into his pants pocket, he adjusted the wedding band on his finger, ran a hand through his hair, and took out his wallet, still standing in front of you. He pulled out some bills and held them out to you.

You took them hesitantly, looking at him.

“Take a taxi home.” You nodded slowly, feeling limp and drained. You remained silent, not knowing what you could possibly say after everything that had happened.

On the other hand, Mingi seemed completely indifferent, acting natural and unbothered. He didn’t spend a second more than necessary in the room, only checking to make sure he had all his belongings, checking for your panties inside his pocket, which he clearly wasn't going to give back.

“Y/n?” He caught your attention when half his body was already out the door. You turned toward him. “I’ll see you Monday. Don’t be late.”

And with that, he closed the door and was gone.

You spent a few more minutes staring at the money in your hand before getting up and starting to dress, feeling strange. But you felt relieved that you still had your job.

You weren’t sure what to expect after everything you’d done with Mingi — or rather, what Mingi had done to you. You hoped that, just like now, he would remain indifferent and never bring it up. At least you would keep working.

As you picked up your phone, ready to call a taxi, you noticed a notification.

A bank transfer.

Mingi had transferred the money just as he’d promised. But not only that, the amount you received had extra. Perhaps he was feeling extra generous after the sex.

You couldn't say for sure.

The digits in your bank account formed a number you’d never even dreamed of seeing next to your own name. An amount that would’ve taken years of honest work to scrape together, brought a warmth that finally untied the knot on your chest.

Yet, the money you got and your job crashed into the nausea of what you’d had to endure, with every cent seemed to throb with the memory of the spit, the sweat, and Mingi’s coldness.

After spotting the vehicle approaching from the small balcony, you went downstairs and got into the taxi, staring out the window with a blank face and a lost gaze.

Something inside you was restless, however. As the car neared your house and night covered the sky, you wondered if this was truly over.

∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴

[mimipoke]

VERMILION - C. SAN

Part 3.

☙.꩜ 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.

☙.꩜ Wc: 10.1k

☙.꩜ Pairing: Psycho!San x afab!reader

☙.꩜ Genre: [+18] angst, thriller (guess i can put it that way), romance, smut

☙.꩜ Warnings: MDNI!;dark themed; MURDERS; blood; extreme violence; traumas; angst; psychopathy; San has mommy issues and a distorted idea of ​​love; San is cold, selfish, self-centered, and toxic; this is not a romanticized relationship; evental smut (with foreplay, oral, piv, etc); representation of sexism and misogyny; dismemberment and some gore things; it may be sensitive for some audiences; you have been warned

a/n: there is mention of a park and its garden that actually exist, which inspired me, and you can see a picture of how it really looks by clicking HERE.

THIS IS ONLY FICTIONAL AND DO NOT REPRESENT WHAT ANYBODY MENTIONED ARE IN REAL LIFE NOR HOW DO I PICTURE THEM!

☙.꩜ VERMILION MASTERLIST

∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴

Restlessness.

That was what you were feeling in that moment, your stomach churning as if you were about to be sick. It was as if you were a tiny fish swimming in the open ocean, feeling that constant sense of foreboding coming from somewhere unknown.

You tried to take a deep breath and calm yourself down, though. There was no reason to feel nervous. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself, ignoring all your bad experiences and frustrations when it came to men.

It was hard not to dwell on the conflicting situations that were trying to trigger a safety alert; even though San was your childhood best friend and you felt comfortable with him, your body instinctively poked at your unhealed wounds.

The truth was, going to see San already felt like a date, even if it hadn't been clearly stated or even suggested that this was the kind of move being made between the two of you. But it was impossible not to think about it, especially with the mix of emotions you were feeling now.

Your track record with men had never been good, with the exception of Hongjoong. That had been a brief — very brief — relationship, if you could even call it that, which simply hadn't lived up to your expectations.

Not because there were problems between the two of you, but because you both realized very quickly that you didn't feel that way about each other. Likewise, Hongjoong didn't want to pursue something when it was crystal clear to him that it wouldn't work out.

It was better to stay friends than to hurt one another and end up causing trauma.

You looked to him as an almost heroic figure, searching for someone who could be the solution to all your problems. Someone to fill the void inside you, someone to make all your anguish vanish and give your life meaning.

But Hongjoong noticed how you were just developing an emotional dependency to satisfy your primal feelings and projecting a parental image onto him. He didn’t think that was healthy for either of you, let alone for you.

You needed to love yourself first, and being the more emotionally mature one, he concluded that it wouldn't be good for you. Furthermore, that kind of situation would only escalate until serious damage was done, and that wasn't what he wanted for you.

On top of that, the intimacy between you two started out as something casual, and seeing that you were putting a massive emotional burden on it all, Hongjoong decided it couldn't go on any longer.

You weren't on the same page, you weren't aligned. He didn't share those feelings for you, though he always respected and cared for you as a friend, while you were just feeding the need for someone to act as your savior and caretaker. You were blurring the lines.

It was hard having that conversation with Hongjoong where you put an end to that intimacy; you were devastated by the broken connection. But these days, you're over it.

If you were honest with yourself, you’d admit that the same internal issue that caused everything with Hongjoong still exists within you. But as for what the two of you had, you’ve truly moved on. You’re glad you stayed friends, it’s how the two of you work best.

A while later, Hongjoong met Seonghwa, and they just clicked. They started dating a few months after that, you couldn’t help feeling a bit jealous at first, but now the three of you are best friends, and you love Seonghwa just as much as you love Hongjoong.

As time went on, the bond between the three of you only grew stronger, as did the affection you all shared.

However, you tried to find what you had with Hongjoong in other guys, which didn't really work out. Some of them were more than willing to play an imposing, protective figure, but not for the reasons you wanted.

It wasn't because they understood that you needed that attention and validation, it was because they were jerks. You were the perfect girl for someone looking for a toxic, superficial relationship.

In the end, despite Hongjoong’s emotional maturity, you faced major disappointments. Not because of him, but because of the expectations he had set for you when it came to relationships.

He had always been kind and thoughtful, prioritizing what was best for both of you, which is why the "breakup" happened. You tried to find that same connection that made you feel better and helped you forget your frustrations in other people, but it never worked. You chased that same feeling, but you couldn't find it.

Eventually, you just started becoming wary of other guys. It wasn’t that you had completely closed yourself off to relationships, but so many failed attempts had left a wound, and now your mind harbored a fear that this was just an endless cycle.

You didn't want to be alone. You didn't want to believe that you couldn't give anyone a chance anymore.

You didn’t want to be one of those traumatized people who completely shut themselves off from love and rob themselves of sharing life with others, but instinctively, you were starting to look a lot like them.

You had already closed yourself off to almost everyone except Hongjoong and Seonghwa. And now, when you finally decided to have some casual fun, that didn't end well either. You didn't even get the chance to properly enjoy it; things went south right from the start.

At least you didn't waste your time with that guy; he showed he was a jerk right off the bat.

But you wished you could enjoy things the way Hongjoong and Seonghwa did. You didn't want to be the stuck girl who can't even manage to have a good time.

Still, you couldn't help the feelings that were making you so restless. Even if you were only meeting San to talk and catch up, nothing out of the ordinary.

You felt like a teenager.

You shouldn't feel this way, after all, this hangout was supposed to be totally lowkey. And you knew San. So why, then, did you feel like you were going to explode with anxiety?

A small part of you, a tiny, almost nonexistent part, wondered expectantly if San would be like Hongjoong, coming back into your life the way it used to be. A thought you also ignored as you headed downstairs for lunch.

The smell of liver and onions filled your nostrils the second you stepped into the living room, making you suppress a grimace of disgust. You hated liver. The table was set, your father was seated, waiting for your mother to bring a few more side dishes from the kitchen. You walked over and sat down across from him.

Right next to your brother.

As the older sister, you didn't get nearly as much attention as he did. In reality, you barely got any attention at all. Your brother was a bit of a troublemaker, he liked playing the "rebel without a cause" teenager, so your parents were completely focused on him.

Whenever you came back to spend the weekends at home, you always felt like the odd one out. Your mother, just like your father, always seemed more preoccupied with your brother, only occasionally remembering your existence when her eyes swept across the house and you happened to be in her line of sight.

Despite that, you weren't spared from the pressure to become someone successful, someone worth bragging about to relatives and friends.

They were never bad parents, but they weren't exactly good ones either. Anyone looking closely at that room would notice that, sitting around that table, was a family that guarded its image the way a celebrity guards their reputation.

They were present, yet emotionally absent. You were the daughter who never caused trouble and lived up to every expectation set for you, always getting good grades, staying out of trouble, and studying at a good university.

You weren't entirely sure why you’d never demanded more attention, or why you never chose to stir up a little trouble like your brother did. Maybe that whole dynamic had become so ingrained and deep-rooted that you just stayed focused on remaining the good daughter.

Because of that, you were wrapped in a shell of needing to live up to your parents' expectations. Deep down, you imagined they only wanted what was best for you, but an invisible weight still hung over you, creating a suffocating pressure that squeezed your emotions.

And as much as it was something worth looking into, you remained oblivious to how much your family dynamic truly influenced you. All you wanted was to be rewarded, to be able to show them that you were someone worthy of attention, interest, and time.

Every now and then, you’d compare yourself to your brother and wonder: if you had been a more difficult child, more stubborn, more mischievous, louder, or even tedious, would that have shaped your relationship with your parents differently?

Regardless, thinking about it didn't matter now because you were used to your parents' absence, you were used to to just coasting through it and focusing on building a future that actually mattered. At the end of the day, your parents just didn't want you to be a failure, and you couldn't blame them for that.

They had the same fear for your brother, so why waste time on you when he wouldn't stop causing trouble? You were giving them a break, you thought. While your brother was a constant source of stress for them. So, you just felt like you owed them this.

They couldn't be bothered with you at this stage of the game. You’d been good this far, why start causing trouble now?

Your mother placed the rest of the food on the table and sat down across from your brother. He had a bruise between his eye and eyebrow, a cut that was starting to look inflamed.

You served yourself, feeling the urge to skip the liver, but you knew your mother would definitely be upset. Your brother and father liked it, so she loved seeing everyone eat well; to her, it meant the food was delicious and wouldn't go to waste.

You glanced up discreetly, but your mother’s eyes were already on you, checking to see if you were going to take some. She didn’t say a word, nor did her face show any outward disapproval, but her gaze perfectly translated exactly what she wanted.

So, you simply put the liver on your plate. If your stomach had a mind of its own, it surely would have churned in disgust.

Your mind drifted back to San again, thinking about how you’d be meeting in just a few hours. You had talked on the phone a bit earlier, deciding where to go and discussing how his move back to the city and his old house was going.

You two had been texting for quite a while, however, since waking up this morning, you hadn't received a single notification from him. Underneath the table, you smoothly pulled your phone out of your baggy pants pocket, checking your chat for the thousandth time, staring at the last message from hours ago and wondering why San hadn't reached out again.

∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴

Leaning against the hood of his "new" old ride, San counted the remaining bills from the wad of cash he’d pulled out of the wrapper before tucking them into his wallet.

He had just bought an old pickup truck from a used car lot, which cost him almost all the money he’d taken from the false bottom in his parents' bedroom.

He hadn’t wanted to burn through the cash as fast as he did, but he figured everything he’d bought so far was necessary and unavoidable. After all, how was he supposed to get everything done without the right tools, including the truck? 

It would definitely be convenient to have a pickup at his disposal.

Buying a car without a driver’s license wasn't exactly simple, the dealer wasn't sold on closing the deal with San. But after some smooth-talking and, of course, cold hard cash, San managed to get him to sell the car for a few hundred dollars over the asking price to cover that little bureaucratic detail.

He didn’t care about the license; he knew how to drive even without one. He’d just have to be extra careful not to get caught.

Yeosang had walked him through all the formal procedures to apply for the position, even with the referral, it was just for the paperwork, which he planned to get a head start on once he got home and had some downtime.

That reminded him: the dead guy’s head was still back at the shed. He hadn't put it in the acid vats with the rest.

He wouldn't have known how to answer if someone asked him why, but he had intentionally kept it separate from the rest.

With a few hours to go before meeting you, San got into the truck and started the engine, heading back home.

San wasn’t the best driver, but he handled the trip well enough, only slightly annoyed by the noise the truck was making, though it was nothing he wasn't already aware of when he made the purchase.

In a few minutes, he pulled up to the house, he hadn’t gone very far, and left the truck in the old garage, which was now overflowing with rust, old junk, and broken knick-knacks. San felt exhausted just thinking about having to clean the place, but he knew he needed the house to be as clean and spotless as possible.

Maybe a little mess and some broken, moldy furniture here and there would be convenient, but many of the rooms held an abnormal amount of clutter and accumulated filth, along with objects that were good for nothing but the trash, remnants of a completely broken and, until recently, abandoned environment.

He went inside, kicking his shoes off by the entrance, and the house’s signature stench immediately hit him. It was unpleasant, but the more time he spent there, the more his sense of smell adjusted until he eventually stopped caring.

However, he wondered why the smell remained so strong even after he’d used various cleaning products throughout the place. Maybe he should scrub it a few more times or do a deep clean of the other rooms and the garage; maybe that would change things, he thought.

He grabbed his phone, noticing the battery was almost dead, and saw that you had sent new messages just a few minutes ago. To San, they seemed like normal, lowkey texts, just confirming your plans.

He didn't suspect that you only texted him because you couldn't contain the anxiety that had been building while he was silent, but he appreciated that you reached out. To him, it was a positive sign that everything was fine.

He replied without waiting for a response, leaving the phone to charge on the worn out surface of the table, which had a power outlet right beneath it.

San headed straight for the backyard and into the shed. His eyes were immediately drawn to the thing sitting haphazardly inside a bucket, covered only by the old tarp that had previously shrouded the now dismembered body.

Blood continued to seep from the decapitated head, leaving it soaking in its own fluids and staining it red, like the wax seal on a bottle of Maker’s Mark.

San had never stopped to consider just how much blood the human body holds until he had to get rid of a corpse himself. He wasn't an idiot; he knew it would be a mess, but he still found it impressive.

He lifted the head by the hair, holding it up in the air and watching the blood drip into the bucket, and then another idea struck him. It would be risky, in a way, meaning he’d have a lot more work to deal with from here on out.

But if he could pull it off, it would be worth it.

He smiled to himself, and with his other hand, he grabbed the bucket and walked over to the sink in the corner of the shed. It was an old, filthy sink, stained by years of wear and tear. The faucet didn't work, no water came out, serving only as a convenient place for San to dump the bucket's contents down the drain.

He let the bucket drop carelessly to the floor while he raised the head to eye level, staring into the lifeless, decaying face while his own radiated a glimmer of the purpose taking shape in his twisted mind, smiling to it. 

∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴

You didn't want to seem needy or overbearing, but not getting another text from San was making you even more anxious.

You felt like an idiot for letting things escalate to the point of messing with your head. It shouldn’t be that deep, nothing had happened. You were just spending another weekend at home, you were going out, and you should have been thinking of all the ways to make the day fun. 

Instead, you were stressing out, and you couldn't even explain to yourself how you’d started spiraling like this.

San shouldn't see you this way. He’d gone years without any contact with you; he knew nothing about your life anymore. It wouldn’t be good if you showed up and looked crazy right off the bat.

You were the one who invited him to talk, hoping to reintegrate him into your life. So why on earth were you acting like this? It was casual and innocent. Your mind was driving you crazy.

You thought about calling Hongjoong. Maybe talking for a bit would take your focus off a nonexistent situation, he might be able to calm you down.

You didn't even text to check if he was busy; you just unlocked your phone and called him right away. After a few rings, he picked up.

“Hey, sorry for calling out of the blue, it’s just—I mean, you’re not busy right now, are you?” You blurted out the words, barely pausing for air.

“No, not really. Did something happen?” Hongjoong replied, suspicious of your frantic tone.

“No, no! Nothing happened. I mean, something is going to happen, but it’s not a bad thing.” You tripped over your words, giving your forehead a light smack for your lack of composure.

“What? What do you mean, Y/n?” If you could see through the phone, you would see that Hongjoong had his eyebrows raised.

“Sorry, I’ve been stressed all morning... I’m meeting up with San today, and I swear I don't know why, but it’s making me so anxious and I can’t shake it off my mind,” you said, letting out a long sigh. You heard Hongjoong click his tongue.

“Is it a date?” Hongjoong asked, sounding interested.

“No, it’s not a date,” you said, flopping down on the bed and kicking your legs in the air.

“In that case, I don’t see a reason for you to be nervous unless you’re planning something you don't want to tell me about...” he countered. “You said he was your childhood friend, right? Are you afraid he’ll turn out to be someone completely different from your expectations?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. I think it’s inevitable that he’s totally different. I mean, he went to juvie or something, who knows. I'm already expecting him to have changed a lot,” you said truthfully. You knew, however, that Hongjoong had hit the nail on the head.

Your last memories of San were of a teenager who used to be so sweet and calm with you that it was almost suspicious, considering his friends seemed so different. Or maybe San just had a different persona when he was with you.

Either way, you liked being around him, and the thought that you didn't know anything about him anymore was making you tense.

Inevitably, your mind wandered, leading you to dwell on all your past frustrations, your disproportionate nervousness clouded your ability to think clearly and brush those negative thoughts aside.

"So, you're nervous because you're meeting up with the ex-convict version of your childhood friend?" Hongjoong teased, just to get a rise out of you.

"Stop it, Joong, he’s not an ex-convict. I’m not nervous because of that, I just..." You hesitated before finishing your sentence.

"You're nervous because you're about to meet someone totally different from what you're used to, while you expect him to be the same. Just admit it," Hongjoong said, filling the silence.

"Well, I used to know him so well, and he was my best friend... He just vanished from my life so suddenly."

"And you're afraid he won't be like your best friend anymore," Hongjoong finished. In his mind, it was obvious you were building up some kind of expectation to be feeling this jittery.

"Yeah, I guess you could put it that way," you said, your fingers starting to twirl a few strands of your hair.

"It's understandable; I think I’d be feeling the same way. But don't let it get to you. After all," Hongjoong gave a short laugh, remembering what happened at the party, "he shoved a glass bottle into a guy's shoulder to defend you! At the very least, he clearly still cares about you just as much."

You laughed. It had been a tense moment, and you couldn't deny you were a bit shocked that San had gone that far, but now it sounded almost funny hearing Hongjoong say it.

"Yeah, it’ll be interesting to find out how San ended up in the exact same place I was." Right place, right time.

"And when you get back, you’re telling me everything, because you never gave me the details on this San guy. I mean, what’s this story about juvie?" Hongjoong couldn't lie, he was pretty curious to understand the situation better. You had always been vague when mentioning that part of your past.

But it wasn't like anyone could blame you. You didn't even know everything about San yourself.

“Sorry, it’s just that it was as confusing for me back then as it is for you now. But he wasn't arrested; he told me he was a ward of the state. I don't really get how that works." You hoped you’d be able to figure it all out once you had a real talk with San.

"Damn, that’s wild. He must have gone through some fucked up stuff. I’m dying to hear all about it!" You laughed, feeling lighter and much calmer than before.

"I promise I’ll give you a full update. I’m gonna hang up now, I should probably start getting ready. Thanks for talking to me, Joon.” you said as you stood up, grateful for your friend listening and making you feel better.

"No need to thank me, you know you can always talk to me. Have fun, and don't forget to tell me how it went. I'll be waiting!" Hongjoong said goodbye in high spirits, making you let out a little laugh as you shook your head.

After tossing your phone onto the bed, you opened your closet and scanned the clothes hanging there, trying to decide which would be best.

In reality, you didn’t need anything too elaborate or over the top, you were just meeting at a cafe in the park, so anything would do. Still, you felt like putting some thought into it.

You heard your phone ping with a notification and saw San’s name light up the screen. You quickly unlocked it to check his messages. He was asking for your address so he could pick you up. You couldn’t help the goofy smile that played on your lips, even though you were a bit surprised by the news.

You hadn't agreed on him picking you up, you didn't even know he had a car. But the gesture made a warm feeling spread through your chest.

You replied by senting him your location, not realizing the silly grin stayed on your face until your cheeks started to ache.

As time passed and you got ready, you couldn't stop thinking about how you’d talk to San, if he’d be okay enough to open up without it being triggering for him. You didn’t want to cause him any pain, so you had no intention of forcing anything.

But you hoped that wouldn't be the case and that you could get a better understanding of everything he’d been through, this seemed like a much better time to talk than back at that party.

You didn’t want to turn the mood into something morbid or tense, you weren't going out just to talk about ghosts from the past. But it would be nice to finally understand him better.

Lost in your own thoughts as you finished your makeup and checked your reflection, a car horn snapped you out of it, making you look out the window. A red pickup truck with a few rust spots was idling in front of your house.

San.

You took one last look in the mirror before grabbing your purse and phone and heading downstairs. You hadn't told your parents you were going out, but you couldn't find them. They weren't upstairs, you'd been there the whole time and nobody had come up.

You quickly checked the kitchen and living room and called out for them, but there was no answer.

Frowning, you wondered if they’d gone out. At the very least, they hadn't said anything to you, not even a goodbye. Well, in that case, you didn't need to tell anyone; you could just shoot them a text.

You shrugged and opened the door, finding San leaning his arm on the open window of the truck. Your cheeks, already tinted by a soft blush, turned even redder as you walked over under San’s watchful eyes.

He opened the truck door for you, making you feel shy as you stared at your hands in your lap, only glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. You felt a strange urge to laugh, you felt so silly. You were acting like a teenager.

“Everything okay?” San asked. He kept one hand on the wheel while the other reached toward your knee. But a second later, he pulled it back and placed it on your shoulder instead, feeling like he was being too invasive. He didn't want to make you feel cornered right now.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” You looked up, meeting his eyes properly this time, letting a sweet smile settle on your lips to reassure him. “Ready to go?”

“I’m sure am.” San returned your smile with one just as sweet, which helped ease your mind instead of fueling the anxiety inside you.

He put the truck in gear and drove toward the city’s central park. San drove a bit fast, and it felt like you were going to collide with another car at any second, but every time you looked at him, he’d just smile as if he knew exactly what he was doing. So, you just put on your seatbelt and gripped it tight.

The drive was a bit quiet. You were paying way too much attention to the traffic, as if you were co-driving with San, while he seemed perfectly relaxed and unbothered by the speed. Every now and then, he’d glance over at you, amused by the apprehensive look on your face, one you didn't even realize you were making.

He parked on a curb near the gates that marked the entrance to the park, which was a protected nature reserve. The path running along the perimeter was paved with stones embedded in the ground, creating a beautiful effect that was easy on the eyes.

The gardens were meticulously kept; in some areas, the hedges were trimmed into geometric shapes and small trees were pruned into sculptures.

It was a beautiful, cozy atmosphere. In the center of the park, a massive greenhouse held the most stunning flowers, and right behind it was a small cafe. That’s where you and San were headed.

He hopped out, walked around, and opened the passenger door, gently helping you down. It was a conveniently pleasant day, the sky was clear and a bright cerulean, with white clouds painted across it like a canvas.

You thanked San, smoothing out your skirt to make sure it hadn’t ridden up too far when you slid out of the truck seat. You were wearing a black top with a jacket, your favorite skirt, and boots.

San wasn't overdressed either, but he looked good. He wore dark pinstriped pants and a black button down shirt with the top three buttons undone.

He was really handsome, you had to admit. Looking at his physique and his face, it was as if he’d been sculpted. Had he always been this good looking, and you were only just noticing now?

He walked beside you as you headed toward the cafe inside the park, stepping along the stone path while you admired the colorful flowers dotting the greenery, soaking it all in like a bumblebee.

As you approached the cafe, San pulled out a chair for you, and you gave him another tender smile, shyly charmed by his chivalry. You sat outside at a table overlooking the edge of the park with the greenhouse in the background.

The setting was perfect.

Ultimately, the beautiful scenery helped you calm down even more.

“Do you want to order something already?” San asked.

“Yeah, I think so. I’d love an iced tea.” You said, picking up the small menu on the table.

“Iced tea is your thing now?” San asked with a smirk. You laughed.

“I guess you could say that. I started liking it when I started college, there’s a place near campus that makes such a great tea.” You replied, looking back at the options on the menu and deciding on an iced berry infusion, it sounded delicious from the description.

“I’m gonna stick with the coffee.” San rested his elbows on the table, leaning in slightly. “Do you have much longer until you finish school?”

“Not much, actually. Two more years and I’ll be graduated and officially unemployed.” You joked, leaving the menu on the table so San could look through it too.

He laughed at your answer. “Unemployed in what field, may I ask you?”

“Well, finance. You know, I’ll be 'Y/n from the finance department.'” You laughed to yourself.

“Ah, I don't think you'll end up unemployed,” San commented.

“In this economy? That’s hard to believe, but thanks. I really hope that’s not the case, I have plenty of things I want to spend money on.” You were talking casually when your phone vibrated with a new notification.

You glanced at the screen and saw a message from Hongjoong:

[Joong 🧡]: Don’t forget to find out if he was in the joint or not. I’m dying to know!

You closed your eyes to keep from rolling them and suppressed a smile. You knew Hongjoong was just trying to keep things light for you.

San, however, didn't let that detail go unnoticed. He saw the notification pop up and caught Hongjoong’s name glowing on the screen. Still, he played it cool, not letting on that he’d been paying attention to those details.

“Are your friends in the same major as you?” San asked, feigning casual curiosity as he brought them up, though he did have a genuine interest in them, just not in the way anyone would think.

“Oh, yeah. We met through our classes,” you replied. Just then, a waitress appeared to take your orders. You and San gave her your choices from the menu and then turned your attention back to each other.

“You guys seem pretty close. I mean, they seemed really worried about you at the party. Your redhead friend, especially, even seemed to have a bit of an attitude with me.” San remembered how suspicious Hongjoong looked at first, sizing him up and hesitating to let the two of you have a moment alone.

He forced himself not to clench his fists. It got under his skin just thinking about that guy trying to get between the two of you.

“Hongjoong?” You laughed. “Oh, he was just being a little protective. That whole fight put him on high alert.”

“Yeah, he even drove you home and everything,” San teased, pouting slightly as he fiddled with his fingers on the table. You let out a little laugh.

“Are you jealous of Hongjoong, Sannie?” you shot back, resting your elbows on the table and bringing your face level with his.

“It’s not jealousy, I’m just curious. I was out of your life for a long time, so... unless you want me to be jealous?” He leaned in even closer, leaving his face just inches from yours. Your face flushed deep red, your makeup was doing nothing to hide it.

“Stop that. There’s plenty of room for two best friends.” you said, but something inside you felt a sharp pinch at the word best friend. You felt torn, confused about where exactly he fit into your life after so much time apart.

The rational part of you wondered if this was really a good idea, while the emotional side was ecstatic to feel like you had someone who would look out for you the way San always had.

“Best friend? So you really did replace me.” San pouted again, acting childish just to tease you, making you gasp at the claim.

“Of course not! Why are you doing this to me? I’m getting embarrassed, San.” You gave his arm a light swat, unable to help noticing how firm his muscles felt.

“Is Hongjoong doing a better job than me? Is he taking good care of you?” You had to stop yourself from wanting to crawl into a hole. How could San get to you this fast, and worse, in such a simple way? He wasn't even trying, he was just being so fucking cute and sassy.

“San! Don’t make me compare the two of you. It’s... it’s different,” you said, letting your head drop into your hands, shy from the million thoughts racing through your mind.

“Different how?” San pressed, gently poking your cheek until you looked up and straightened your posture.

“It’s just that Hongjoong and I... we got close in a different way.” San felt as if a thousand needles were pricking his heart, making him freeze. On the outside, his posture remained calm and his expression soft, as if he were simply listening intently.

“What do you mean?” he wanted to know.

“Well, it’s just that we, the two of us had a brief thing,” you explained, feeling a bit jittery at the mention of your short lived relationship with Hongjoong.

San didn’t even realize he’d held his breath as he listened to you, but he quickly made sure not to react.

“So, you two dated?” he asked calmly, but inside he was furious with Hongjoong. And, unfortunately, with you. He wondered how could you, and you seemed so nervous now it was almost as if you were confessing.

“Uhm, yeah, kind of... It was more like a friends with benefits situation, we were just trying to enjoy each other.” Saying it out loud made you feel like a fool, it sounded so stupid. You were even more nervous now.

As for San, he wondered if he’d heard you correctly.

“Enjoy each other"? That didn't sound like you at all.

Oblivious to the conversation, the waitress returned to the table with your orders: your iced tea and San’s coffee. You quickly grabbed the glass and took a sip, using the straw to shut yourself up for a moment while the refreshing taste of mixed berries played on your palate.

“I didn't think you were into that kind of thing, I’m a little surprised.” San said, feigning casual indifference while taking a sip of his coffee, watching the latte art slowly dissolve in his mouth.

“It’s not what you think, it’s complicated... I thought we were—I mean, I was just confusing things.” You sighed, your words were starting to lose their meaning as you listened to yourself. You didn’t want to confuse San.

“It’s okay. We’re just getting to know each other for the second time, right? We can take it slow.” San used every ounce of strength he had to utter those words, because what he wanted most was to dig deeper into that story with Hongjoong.

“No, no, it’s fine. I don't know why I’m being like this with you, Sannie. We’re still best friends, aren't we?” You held his hand for a moment.

“Of course we are.” San smiled at you, squeezing your hand before letting go, reassuring you. You smiled back.

Looking at San and the comforting smile he tried to give you, you took a deep breath. There was no reason to feel like you were talking to a total stranger, after all, you’d met up to catch each other up.

You knew San. How different could he really be now?

“Hongjoong and I got really close at first, and it ended up evolving into something deeper than just a friendship,” you explained, trying to be clearer this time. “I felt like I could trust him, and so I dated him lost my virginity to him. We stayed close for a while longer until we realized we weren't being honest with each other. But it ended well, we’re good friends now, and he’s dating Seonghwa.”

You felt like you’d summarized it all perfectly, but the only thing San could hear was that you’d lost your virginity.

To Hongjoong.

You had no idea the immense effort he was making to restrain himself and not be impulsive. He didn't want to hurt you. He didn't want to drive you away right now.

But he couldn't deny it, if he’d been annoyed before at the mention of you and Hongjoong being close, now he was like a volcano on the verge of eruption.

He lifted the cup to his mouth, taking another sip of coffee while keeping every muscle in his body from tensing and his hands from clenching into fists.

God only knew how hard it was for him not to snap right there, grab you by the arm, and drag you away from everyone. San could feel his heart pumping blood frantically in real-time as he struggled to stay sane and in control.

“San?” you nudged him after a few seconds of silence.

“Sorry,” he took another sip of coffee to hide his reaction. “I just got caught up listening to you talk about yourself, but I haven't said anything about me yet.”

You laughed, nodding. You couldn't deny you were curious for San to explain more about his past, to tell you what his life had been like during those years. “I’d love to hear from you, San.”

“Where should I start? Don’t you want to ask me anything?”

“Actually, I would like to ask something.” You swallowed, Hongjoong’s image flashing through your mind, and you felt so stupid for it, but you wanted to ask. “You mentioned you were taken by the police to be cared for by specialists since you had no other relatives...”

You hesitated before continuing, knowing it was a sensitive topic, but your curiosity was growing and you wanted to take the opportunity. “Couldn’t they track down your mother?”

San swallowed the coffee he’d been drinking as he listened to you, the hot liquid going down his throat like sandpaper.

“I don't know. I haven't heard from her in years, no one ever located her. Maybe she’s not even in the country.” San replied, at first, truthfully.

Noticing the weight in San’s voice, however contained, you reached your hand out to his again, letting your thumb give him a gentle, comforting caress.

He watched the gesture, looking back at you.

“I’m so sorry...” you replied. “When all that happened, all I could think was why did you have to be taken so far away, and why were you gone for so long? I mean, I never understood any of it, why the police had to take you when you were a victim in that whole situation.”

San had been a minor at the time, it was standard procedure for the state to take custody of him and keep him in a juvenile detention center until he could be transferred to a prison once he came of age.

Or, he could have spent the rest of his life institutionalized, given the severity of what he’d done. Homicide was one thing, but parricide was another, and San had been on the verge of spending the rest of his days in a psychiatric facility.

He owed his luck to the government’s flawed system, thanks to those failings, San served his entire initial sentence in juvenile detention. After that, he wasn't deemed to have any pathology that justified keeping him there while he took up space in a state institution.

“Did they at least catch the people responsible for doing that to your father?”

Yes, San.

“From what I heard, they never managed to find the guys.” He looked you straight in the face, lying while staring fearlessly into your eyes.

“Oh, San… that’s so messed up. How did you get through all that time? I mean, what did you do while you were so far away, being cared for by those people?” Your hands shifted into holding San’s hands like a child’s.

“I was fine, don’t worry. They made me study there.” Reading books and studying could shave a few days off a sentence. “I even finished high school and got good grades.” Again, the incentive system.

“You did that remotely? Why didn't you attend school then?” you asked curiously.

Because San was in custody.

“Because I needed to be observed by psychiatrists. They said I’d been through a major trauma, so I had to be constantly monitored. They wanted to make sure I wouldn't have trouble dealing with it all,” San replied.

“I see. It must have been hard being away from everyone you knew for so long, especially not being able to leave the supervision of those doctors.”

Ah, you were so easy to fool, San thought. You simply believed everything he said, he didn't even have to try.

“It was harder being away from you than anything else.” San left you speechless, making your cheeks burn and flush. You looked away from him to stare at your lap, bashful.

“It was hard being away from you too, Sannie… from one day to the next, you just vanished, like you’d been abducted. And I didn't have any news of you that entire time.” San reached out, catching your face and gently tilting it up by your chin so you’d look at him again.

“I’m here now, aren't I? We’ll have all the time in the world now. Your Sannie isn't going anywhere.”

Your eyes shimmered, a spark flickered inside you, making your body tingle, but this time, it wasn't from anxiety or nerves. It was something else. It was a good feeling that made your senses yield to San’s voice.

With your chin still between his fingers, he gently pressed his thumb against your skin before pulling his hand away and looking at you with a smirk.

He could see the gears turning inside you, showing him that everything was going exactly as planned.

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After talking for a while longer, with San spinning stories about his time being institutionalized, the daily activities, the schedules and rules, the therapy sessions, and all the other things he lied about, you both left the cafe and started wandering through the park.

San didn't let you pay for your tea or the puff pastry you ordered later, picking up the tab himself. You felt a bit self conscious, but he insisted. Deep down, if you were being honest, the gesture really touched you.

As the two of you strolled through the park, you kept pointing out every flower arrangement you found beautiful, showing him how charmed you were by the natural beauty of the gardens.

Every so often, you’d end up drifting too close as you walked, causing your hands to brush against each other. It gave you butterflies, while for San, it sparked a burning sensation throughout his body, as if your skin touching generated electricity.

He felt an aching urge to touch you, but in that moment, he had to behave and stay in control, letting the light graze of your fingers against his send waves of adrenaline through him.

Further ahead, an elderly man was selling flower arrangements from a wooden cart decorated with pastel paintings.

"Oh, look at that arrangement, it's so tiny! How cute, it would fit perfectly on my desk." You were referring to the study desk in your dorm.

"Do you want it?" San didn't wait for an answer, he took the initiative and approached the man to ask for the arrangement you liked.

"Wait, I just thought it was pretty, you don't have to do that, San!" You grabbed his arm, but he didn't listen.

You watched as he handed the money to the man and took the flowers, looking back at you like a mischievous child who had just done something he shouldn't, but with a grin on his face.

"Go on, take it... it'll look good on your desk, won't it?" He held the bouquet out to you.

"San, you shouldn't have bought it." You took the small arrangement, shy in the face of his kindness. You never knew quite how to react when someone paid for or bought something for you.

"Oh, stop. It was nothing, I wanted to get them for you because you liked them." San shoved his hands into his pockets and resumed walking with you until you reached a secluded area.

There was a garden that stretched across the park like a painting. Flower beds trimmed to the millimeter, forming intricate scrolls. Red flowers grew inside small hedgerows shaped into circles, scattered across the grounds, drawing your eyes to this portrait made of nature.

Between the hedges, there was a wooden bench, which you and San soon occupied. You took a few seconds to admire the view in front of you, but San couldn't get the conversation from the cafe out of his head.

Hongjoong...

He couldn't stop thinking about him, about how you confessed to losing your virginity to him. It made him picture you going to bed with your friend, giving yourself to him, losing yourself.

The flame of jealousy and rage was still burning hot inside San, no matter how hard he struggled to look calm and as if he were enjoying the walk as much as you were. He could have been enjoying it more if he hadn't found out that you’d simply let some random guy profane your body as if you were some tramp.

He couldn't stand the thought that Hongjoong had something he didn't. That Hongjoong had texted you in the middle of their date, when San should have been the only one with your attention.

He couldn't stand that Hongjoong occupied a space in your mind with something so intimate and personal, something only he should have a right to.

While Hongjoong had enjoyed all of that, he was here buying you measly flowers. He couldn't accept it; he couldn't leave any more room for you to confuse things, as you had put it.

San thought to himself that he couldn't waste another second.

With that, he draped his arm over your shoulder, drawing you closer. You looked up at him with a lopsided smile, as if asking what he was doing, but you didn't pull away. San brought his face close to yours, reaching up with one hand to cup your cheek, making you meet his gaze with a mix of intensity and hesitation.

Watching your reaction and seeing that you weren't pushing him away, San pressed his lips to yours, sealing them in a chaste kiss.

You were surprised by the gesture, but you didn't move. In fact, you kissed him back, making it easy for San to move his lips against yours.

His hand cupping your cheek caressed your skin with his thumb, a gentle touch that seemed to numb your entire body.

You couldn't think of anything else; your mind went completely blank. Your body simply allowed itself to feel San’s contact and warmth. His lips danced with yours as if they already knew each other, that touch felt so familiar it made you feel like you were home.

You didn't want to stop. You moved your hand to the back of San’s neck, caressing his skin and letting your fingers sink into his closely cropped hair, stroking it with the same intensity he used on your cheek.

He then moved his hand from your cheek to your waist, while his other hand slid to the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling your face closer and deepening the kiss.

You gave way for his tongue to slip in, feeling it brush against yours softly, tasting him as he did the same to you. However, the kiss eventually broke; you stopped to catch your breath and also because you didn't want things to get more intense than that.

You were in public.

As you caught your breath, San kissed the corner of your mouth, then moved to your cheek, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling back.

However, he didn't take his hands off your waist, nor did he stop stroking the back of your neck through your hair.

“Too soon?” San asked playfully.

“It’s okay. I… I think I liked it,” you replied.

“Think? Ouch,” he teased, making you laugh and give him a little swat on the shoulder.

“I liked it, Sannie. Really.” San moved his fingers to your chin, tilting it up so you wouldn't hang your head again and would keep looking at him.

“Don’t feel pressured because of this, okay?” San said, making sure you didn't overthink it or get the wrong impression. “It’s all fine.”

“I’m okay, seriously.” You leaned in and stole a quick peck, making him arch his eyebrows. “I think it’s about time for me to head home. I have to head back to campus tomorrow.”

“Alright, I’ll take you.” He stood up, offering his arm for support.

You walked back along the stone path, and this time you didn't let go of his arm. You held on tight, feeling San’s bicep against your palm, and despite your flushed cheeks, you didn't let go.

The walk to the edge of the park, until San unlocked the truck, was a bit quiet. You both seemed to be digesting what had happened minutes ago, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence.

You felt good, and San felt victorious. Not completely, but he was satisfied that he hadn't made a move that caused a negative impact.

He opened the truck door for you to sit in the passenger seat before walking around to the driver's side and starting the engine.

At some point during the drive, you felt San was going even faster than when you arrived, and he seemed to be accelerating even more.

San’s mind was working non stop, thinking not only about your kiss but about the ambitions he’d built upon returning to the city, specifically to the same neighborhood, and the plans he had mapped out. But most of all, he was thinking about everything you’d told him about you and Hongjoong.

He was taking risks behind the wheel without even realizing it, his thoughts miles away, nursing his hatred for your best friend.

He only snapped out of his trance when you nudged him, looking visibly worried.

“San, aren’t you going a little too fast?” you asked, your hand gripping the grab handle tightly.

“Sorry, am I scaring you?” San said, gradually slowing down until you seemed satisfied.

“No, it’s just... I didn’t know you liked to drive that fast,” you said, though you weren’t being entirely honest, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. San laughed.

“I think it’s more fun that way, but don’t worry, I won’t speed again,” he promised, reaching out with one hand to lightly ruffle your hair before turning his attention back to the road.

As you neared your house, he slowed down before pulling up to the curb. Unlike when he picked you up, this time he got out and opened the door for you, offering his hand for support.

You thanked him, feeling silly for the better part of the day because you were so flustered by San. He moved closer to you, and receiving no rejection in return, he understood he could proceed.

You didn't know if your parents were home yet, and you hadn't even texted to let them know, but you figured they wouldn't mind if they were busy. Besides, you were an adult now.

San noticed you glancing toward the house. “Are they waiting for you?”

“No, no—I mean, I don't think so. I just didn't want to come back yet. I had a lot of fun today, Sannie,” you said, leaning your body even closer to his, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“I had a great time today too, Y/n,” San said, draping an arm over your shoulder in a slightly awkward hug before leaning in close to your ear, whispering, “I missed you.”

You wrapped your arms around San’s waist, pressing your face against his tshirt, not even caring if your makeup stained the fabric. You held him tight, feeling your heart race.

He rested his chin on top of your head, taking in the scent of your hair while stroking your back.

“I missed you too, Sannie. So much...” you said, closing your eyes tight. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m never leaving your side again, Y/n. I promise.” You tightened your grip on him, letting him feel it. He smiled against your hair, slowly releasing you before letting you go.

However, before you could turn your back and go inside, you stepped in quickly, pulling San into a kiss.

He didn’t pull away, on the contrary, San smiled into the kiss, satisfied with the effect he’d had on you. With one hand resting on your waist, he let you lead the pace.

It was a delicate, gentle kiss. Ending it with a quick peck, you moved away and finally said goodbye, heading into the house until you had completely disappeared from his line of sight.

Only then did San get back into the truck and start driving, this time, toward his own home.

∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴

The irritating blare of the alarm woke San, the shrill ring grating on his nerves. He resisted getting up, already feeling a twinge of regret for seeking a job.

He hadn't slept well; his mind had kept him awake, racing through a million things at once. Before bed, you two had exchanged a few texts, a surface level conversation compared to earlier that day, before finally saying goodnight.

He also restlessly replayed the moments he spent with you that afternoon.

Embarrassingly, he got an erection every time he remembered your touch. He hated it; he hated feeling like a boy. He wanted to feel like a man.

He stood up, rubbing his face, his eyes puffy from lack of sleep. He wanted to stay in bed, but he knew he had to work if he wanted to keep things on track. Besides, he needed a source of income; he couldn't live forever on the cash stashed in the house.

It would run out eventually, especially with him buying more and more supplies to execute his plans.

He went to the bathroom, showered, and got dressed. Heading downstairs, he simply ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, indifferent to the lack of nutrients or a decent breakfast. He’d have time to get organized later, he thought.

For now, he just needed to get to the butcher shop.

The drive to the supermarket was quick, considering the speed he was driving.

After hopping out of the truck and entering through the employee only area, San saw a few coworkers waiting while others with keys unlocked the doors.

Yeosang was there and waved when he spotted San.

They went in together, heading to the meat department while the other employees began prepping the store for opening.

"Lose your motivation already?" Yeosang asked as they approached.

"No, I just didn't sleep much last night," San yawned as Yeosang handed him the uniform provided for his shift.

"No need to be nervous about it, I know that it's not for just anyone to be in this refined and exclusive place, but it’s not a big deal.” Yeosang joked, making San chuckle as he headed to the locker room.

Once dressed, San grabbed his phone and typed a message to you, checking if you had already left for campus to head back to your dorm. In the downtime between getting ready and returning to the shop with Yeosang, you and San exchanged a few texts.

As the day went on, San quickly memorized all the standard operating procedures.

Yeosang showed him how to adjust the slicer, the scale, and other equipment like the meat grinder and the vacuum sealer. He showed him the walk-in freezer and the door latch, the price charts, and explained about suppliers, delivery dates, and quality standards for inspecting cuts of meat, as well as maintaining temperatures and expiration dates.

San was doing better than Yeosang expected. 

He was a fast learner, attentive to every instruction, and a huge help with the heavy lifting. He struggled a bit with deboning, but nothing a little practice couldn't fix.

Yeosang was surprised by how well San was performing, he seemed genuinely committed to doing a good job. Despite looking exhausted when he arrived, he was completely focused. He just needed to be a bit more welcoming and polite with the customers, so Yeosang kept him behind the counter most of the time, handling other tasks while Yeosang himself managed the service.

At the end of the day, San helped Yeosang organize the entire section, putting away supplies, cleaning the space and the tools, and making sure everything was in place before the market closed.

He had exchanged a few more messages with you during the day whenever he could check his phone. Everything seemed to be going well, you seemed interested in every topic San brought up and kept him updated on what you were doing.

At one point, you mentioned being with your friends. It wasn't the focus of the message, but San couldn't stop thinking about Hongjoong being near you, even if you weren't alone.

It left him in a foul mood.

He returned home, not feeling tired in the least. All those hours working, moving heavy cuts of meat and hoisting them onto hooks in the freezer, carrying heavy crates, using brute force to debone and operate old machinery, none of it seemed to weigh on his muscles.

He was so irritated his body was flushing with cortisol, drugging him with stress. It left him tight and tense. His testosterone levels were completely haywire, triggering metabolic activation in his brain that made him aggressive.

San drove dangerously over the speed limit, his hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white.

Arriving home, the truck screeched to a halt, a sound that grated on him, prompting him to slam the vehicle door shut.

He didn't go inside. Instead, he went through the front yard to the back and entered the shed, locking himself inside and flicking on the dim bulb. He tore off his jacket and shirt, leaving his torso bare, and grabbed a pickaxe leaning in the corner with the other tools.

He slammed it into the floor with all his might, enraged, cracking the surface layer. He repeated the action over and over, channeling all his rage into the pickaxe until he was inconsolably irate, destroying the floor while letting out hoarse grunts with every blow, like a revolted beast. He swung the tool high and brought it down with pure fury, ignoring the shards of stone flying up from the impact.

San didn't care if it took him all night to break the shed floor, he wouldn't stop until it was totally destroyed and he had dug a hole deep enough to lead underground. He wouldn't rest…

He would kill Hongjoong.

∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴

[mimipoke]

i’d like to ask if you have a masterlist of ur work here anywhere? and also if you’ll produce sum similar fics like deal with the devil? LOVE UR WORKS PLS KEEP DOING WHAT U DO !!! ❤️❤️❤️

I dont have one YET, I’m planning to make one when I have more works done since I barely have things posted here, and yes, I’ll def write more similar to dwd bc I love twisted, darker themes and angst stuff so you can expect my fics to be into that vein

Thanks for your support, sweetie ❤️🫶

[mimipoke]

VERMILION - C. SAN

Part 2.

☙.꩜ 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.

☙.꩜ Wc: 10k

☙.꩜ Pairing: Psycho!San x afab!reader

☙.꩜ Genre: [+18] angst, thriller (guess i can put it that way), romance, smut

☙.꩜ Warnings: MDNI!;dark themed; MURDERS; blood; extreme violence; traumas; angst; psychopathy; San has mommy issues and a distorted idea of ​​love; San is cold, selfish, self-centered, and toxic; this is not a romanticized relationship; evental smut (with foreplay, oral, piv, etc); representation of sexism and misogyny; dismemberment and some gore things; it may be sensitive for some audiences; you have been warned

THIS IS ONLY FICTIONAL AND DO NOT REPRESENT WHAT ANYBODY MENTIONED ARE IN REAL LIFE NOR HOW DO I PICTURE THEM!

☙.꩜ VERMILION MASTERLIST

∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴

Hongjoong and Seonghwa watched closely as you walked out with San. They let you go calmly across the campus with the man who was unknown to them, only to follow you subtly, just far enough to give you privacy, but close enough to keep you in sight.

Hongjoong felt guilty for teasing you all day about meeting someone and getting laid. In the end, you almost got assaulted by a crazy guy, and Hongjoong's stomach churned while just thinking that you could have been forced to do something you didn't want to.

He couldn't help but feel responsible for the situation, and he would never forgive himself if anything happened to you. Seonghwa remained by his side, also watching your every move and worried about what had just happened.

They knew you were an adult and could take care of yourself, but given the situation that got out of control while they weren't around to protect you as they would have liked, they didn't want to feel like they were making another mistake by leaving you alone with San, who had also gotten involved in the fight.

They didn't know San, had never seen him until he showed up in the middle of the party and smashed a bottle over someone's head and shoved what was remaining into the man’s shoulder. He deserved it, but still, all of Hongjoong's senses were hypervigilant, just wanting to protect you from any other incident that might hurt you.

Deep down, he knew he was overreacting. He noticed how you seemed to know San, but his protective instincts wouldn't cooperate. At least Hongjoong felt better being able to watch over you and be alert to any suspicious behavior than turning his back on you after you had gone through a stressful and almost traumatic situation. He just felt it was the right thing to do.

On the other hand, you didn't blame Hongjoong and Seonghwa. That man was a jerk, and they had no control over what happened. No one did. You tried to reject that guy calmly, and he didn't handle it well; you couldn't prevent what followed. However, you felt a great relief that San had shown up and helped you.

It wasn't that you had never told Hongjoong and Seonghwa about your childhood friend, you just had never told them that this friend was San. Your college best friend's puzzled look was noticeable, and you couldn't judge him, even though you didn't think you were in wrong hands. You knew Hongjoong was just being protective.

Even with your back turned, you could feel the couple's gaze on you, careful. You didn't object to it, you knew it would be difficult to convince them otherwise, especially after they had seen you in trouble, so you just left them alone. At least it would give them peace, so be it. And it wasn't as if you were bothered. You thought it was adorable, even though you would rather be left alone at that moment.

You were overwhelmed with feelings upon seeing San again after so many years. Your eyes sparkled as you watched him, unchanged, his features just matured, taller and stronger, his body grew and developed into an adult man, but his appearance was the same.

You would recognize him from miles away, in a crowd of millions.

“You look a little different from how I remember you,” San commented after you had walked far enough away and sat down on an old wooden settee that was attached to the ground.

You frowned slightly, unsure. “Different in a bad way or a good way?” San chuckled.

He paused for less than a second, watching you and holding your gaze without worrying about the intensity of his own. He would like to reply with all the sincerity he had, but he knew it wouldn't be a smart move right now. 

He wanted to answer that you now had a woman's body. That your curves made your body dance when you moved, catching his eye and making his hands tingle. That your face now had a striking and mesmerizing appearance.

“You’ve grown prettier.” That was what San chose to say. He admired your face shamelessly, letting his eyes record every detail, not failing to notice the slight blush that lit up your cheeks when you heard his compliment.

“I-I haven't changed much, Sannie.” You didn't want to be affected by that comment, it wasn't supposed to be a big deal, but you couldn't help the waves in your chest when you heard San's words.

Part of you felt strange, distant, whispering to you that a long time had passed and you were talking to a stranger now. Another part felt a familiar warmth, which brought a sense of comfort and made you want to dive into that feeling.

“Anyway, you still look like the same y/n who would whine when the older boys picked on you.” San saw a spark cross your eyes, clicking in a very convenient place, especially since he had defended you from a guy earlier.

He knew what he was doing, he didn't say that by accident.

You felt your face burn, not sure if it was from embarrassment or endearment. It reminded you that you were grateful for what he had done earlier. You believed that he had no obligation to protect you and bring trouble upon himself, but he did it anyway.

“Thank you, Sannie.” You lifted your face, enveloping yourself in the opacity of San's irises as he let the corner of his mouth stretch into a simple smile. "I think that was the last moment I would have thought of seeing you again. I mean, it's been so long that... I really thought I'd never hear from you again."

His face showed a slight sorrowness, a glimpse of the sadness you felt when you faced San's absence as a loss. For a long time, you felt as if you were going through a mourning period, until time itself gave you space to recover from the emptiness left in your chest.

San was your best friend during your childhood and teens, and it wasn't easy to have him out of your life overnight without even understanding clearly what had happened.

After so many years without news, not even a reply to the letters you believed were being sent, San became just a ghost, and you simply assumed that your lives would never cross paths again.

“I know. I was very frustrated to have been taken away from everyone, especially you.” San shifted partially to face you properly, while one of his arms rested on the back of the seat. “All I wanted was to be able to talk to you and know how you were doing.”

You tilted your head, watching San's eyebrows drop and his face take on the puppy eyes you knew so well. “Then why did you never reply to me?”

San looked genuinely confused this time. “Reply?”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound harsh. It's just that,” you sigh, staring at your hands in your lap, feeling like your teenage self was speaking for you. “I waited torturously for you to answer any of my letters. I thought maybe I was sending them to the wrong address, since it was a detention center... I never really understood why that was the address, but my parents kept saying it was just because you were in the care of the state.”

“You sent me letters? Are you serious?” San knit his brows together, going tense. He felt confused, hearing you speak just raised questions in his mind. He was now digesting the information that you had written to him, but he had never received any of your letters. He wondered if the institute's administration had vetoed him from receiving correspondence, oblivious, both he and you, that the real reason was that your parents had never even sent them.

“Y/n, I never received any letters from you while I was in custody, not even a note. I am completely surprised that you tried to contact me during that time and I was never able to get in touch with you.” San gently reached your chin, holding with his fingers, causing you to look back at him. You stared at him with slightly wide eyes, your eyebrows furrowed.

You couldn't believe that during all that time, none of your letters ever reached San. While you waited for a reply, longing to know how San was and, deep down, wanting to stay close to him in some way, he had no idea you had written to him.

Like San, you immediately wondered if the authorities had interfered in this.

“So you weren't ignoring me... Sannie, I-” You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, your mind wandering through everything you could remember putting in each letter, the care you tried to take when contacting San, and later, your lack of patience in the following letters when you received no reply. “I missed you.”

Your eyes shone, glossy and chaste. You allowed yourself to travel to the void that had been created by the absence of your old best friend, the void that, until then, had been filled with your growth, but that still felt hollow.

“I was very worried about you back then, wondering what was happening to you while you were away.” You grabbed the hem of San's shirt, letting buried feelings rise to the surface and say what you hadn't been able to say for years. “I felt so bad that you were all by yourself, I had no idea that things weren't going well at your house and-”

You stopped, swallowing hard and closing your eyes. You brought a hand to your temple, massaging it lightly and looking back at San.

“I never understood why that happened. No one could tell me, not even your friends. I looked for them, but it didn't help much; they knew just as much as I did.” You remembered back then, when all those conflicting feelings made your heart ache, causing anguish in your chest.

It was devastating for you to feel that sudden emptiness, unable to comprehend what caused it all, leaving loose ends and planting doubts in your mind that no one could answer.

Meanwhile, San analyzed every reaction you expressed, how your face spoke to him without words. And he took notes on it. And precisely because he noticed your breakdown, showing more vulnerability, San went further.

“My dad,” he began. One of San's hands left the back of the seat and moved to the side of your face, cupping your cheek, the gesture calming your unease. “He got involved with some bad guys and started getting into trouble.” A glimpse of his father's face going toward him with a knife made San squeeze his eyes shut in annoyance at the deceased old man's audacity, but he disguised it by quickly bringing one hand to his face, pretending to compose himself from a harsh memory.

You felt bad seeing him like that, as he seemed to be reopening a wound that tormented him. Your feelings were stirred up again, each word San spoke made your heart beat heavily, your stomach twisted with the darkness of the trauma he was recounting, leaving you with a suffocating feeling of dismay.

"I just got home and found him dead. The police officers who were patrolling the neighborhood saw me and immediately helped me, but since my father was my only traceable relative, I had to spend some time being cared for by specialists and psychiatrists." San sighed heavily, and you removed your hand from the hem of his shirt, bringing it to his face, just as he did with yours.

“Sannie... I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have had to go through it all alone.” A trickle of guilt ran down your chest, feeling that you had been too distant with your best friend. You should have known better, done him better. You should have cared more.

With a quick movement, you leaned into San, wrapping him in a hug. Your hands slid over his broad shoulders, looping around his neck as you rested your chin in the hollow between his neck and shoulder.

San’s heart raced at the closeness, the feeling of your body’s warmth against his, your chest pressed firmly to his, igniting something inside him. Even though you were wrapped in a thick layer of fabric, your jacket keeping him from really feeling you, San still burned with the way you clung to him.

He brought his hands to your back. One slid slowly to the middle of it, while the other settled just below your nape, his fingers brushing you in a soft, feather-light touch.

All while you breathed beneath the scent of San’s cologne, you couldn't measure how painful it must have been for San to lose the only family he had in such a terrible way, and although the reality was very different from what you knew, your heart naturally radiated a mix of feelings.

San's lies filled your ears, and all you could think about was how he must have felt with what he was distorting for you.

On the other hand, San measured your reaction. You believed him easily. It seemed that he wouldn't have much trouble taking care of you after all.

“Don't feel that way. I'm here now, and you can ask me anything you want, no letter needed.” You smirked, affectionately. Despite what had happened with San, he seemed cool enough for you, considering that it must not have been easy to go through those long years, you thought.

In a way, it wasn't really easy, but not for the exact reasons you assumed. San had awakened many layers that shaped who he was now, with no chance of going back.

You pulled back from the hug, lifting your gaze to San’s face. His expression was calm now, a faint spark in his eyes, different from the dullness from before. His hands lingered as they slowly slipped away from your body, and when they finally did, you already missed the warmth of his touch.

You and San spent some more time chatting, most of the topics revolving around things you remembered writing to him, while he just answered everything calculatedly. He didn't fail to evaluate any of your reactions and your inclination to gauge how he was now. It was a very opportune moment for him to say everything you seemed to want to hear. And judging by your empathy, it seemed he was saying the right things.

You realized that you had spent much more time with San than you had imagined when you told Hongjoong and Seonghwa that it would be a quick thing. You felt the fatigue of the night reaching your body and asking for rest, so you looked back, searching for your friends and finding them leaning against a tree, distant, leaning on each other and looking tired as well.

San noticed your change, freezing his own expression so as not to seem intimidating, but took the liberty to question. “Your friends?” You nodded, and with a little boldness, he decided to mask the question with a playful tone and a hint of easiness. “Did you replace me?”

You chuckled, oblivious to the truth San carried with his fake mockery. “I didn't replace anyone, Sannie.” You pushed him by the shoulder, but stopped and looked at him for a moment before pulling your phone out of your pocket. "Listen, why don't you give me your number? We can talk better later. You know what, I'll give you mine."

San remained motionless as you looked at him expectantly. You tilted your head. “Aren't you going to get your phone?” Then he understood. But what could he do? He wasn’t carrying a phone with him right now.

“I think I left my phone in Yunho's car, but I have a pen here with me, you can write it down.” He promptly fumbled through his pockets until he found the pen, handing it to you.

You suppressed a laugh, wondering why he kept a pen in his pockets but not his phone, but you didn't really care. You took San's hand and wrote your number on his palm, leaving it marked enough so that the numbers were visible.

He got up with you, walking beside you until you were close to your friends again.

“San, these are Hongjoong and Seonghwa.” Hongjoong reached his hand to San, who forced himself to accept it. However, he squeezed it tightly, earning a low grunt from the redhead, which you didn't seem to notice. The same with Seonghwa, but he didn't grunt, he just gritted his teeth. “Joong, hwa, this is San. He's an old childhood friend.”

Realization passed through Hongjoong's eyes as he looked at San intently before talking. “Oh, San... Nice to meet you!” He said to the black-haired man.

San smiled in answer, keeping it cool even though inside he wanted to explode and drag you away from those two.

“I think I'll go home, I'm feeling a little tired now.” You said to your friends, who agreed, and Hongjoong pulled you closer, subtly, but not unnoticed by San. “It was good to see you, Sannie. Don't forget to text me. You'll be able to reply this time.”

Your humorous tone earned a smirk from San, who reluctantly said goodbye, but was ingenious in showing himself to be polite and kind as you walked away with your friends.

“Oh, wait!” you said, exasperated, like you’d just remembered something.

You hurried back to San. The distance between you hadn’t grown much; in just a few quick steps, you were standing in front of him again.

San raised his eyebrows, hesitant but curious. You looked at him shyly, your cheeks flushed, already feeling a little silly, but ignoring the butterflies in your stomach, you rose onto your toes, grabbed San by the shoulders, and planted a quick, playful kiss on his cheek.

San didn’t stop a sly smile from tugging at his lips as you pulled away again, waving goodbye and finally heading off.

He watched calmly as Hongjoong and Seonghwa led you to a vehicle parked on the sidewalk, getting in and driving away.

He only moved when the car was no longer in his field of vision, allowing the muscles in his face to relax and his calm gaze to fade. San didn't like your new friends, nor did he like that you were going home with them.

Were they so important to you that you let them take care of you? 

He went back inside and found Yeosang filling his glass with drinks from the living room table.

“Where's your friend? We thought you left with her.” Yeosang said, confused to see San showing up by himself.

“No, it's a long story. Well, not really, but she already went home. Where are the others?” San asked, his tone with a hint of unbotheredness.

“They're in the back. Yunho and Wooyoung are playing with the cups. No pretty girls paid any attention to them today, losers.” Yeosang laughed, joking about his friends who were already drunk, throwing ping pong balls into the party cups with other people. “Are you coming or are you going to try your luck with another girl?”

San smirked and patted Yeosang on the shoulder, following him until he joined the others. Although he drank and tried to distract himself as the night went on, he couldn't get you out of his mind. Especially since you left with your two boy friends. 

The reality was that San felt the bitterness of jealousy. He didn't like seeing you get into their car, being taken home by them, while they played the role of protectors. San was the one who used to do that for you.

But he needed to control himself as much as he could if he wanted things to go as he planned. He couldn't give in easily, or his impulses would get in the way. At least, seeing how close you were to Hongjoong and Seonghwa, it would be a backfire if you got upset about something.

He would have to be sneaky.

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Hongjoong parked in front of your house, shifting in his seat to look at you, who was sitting behind him in the backseats.

“Are you sure you're okay?” He asked, already knowing the answer but just wanting you to say it out loud so he could feel at ease before leaving.

“Joong, relax, everything’s fine. You know you can’t be like this the whole night, don’t you?” Hongjoong pressed his lips together, and you squeezed his shoulder affectionately. “If it makes you feel any better, I really had fun tonight.”

Seonghwa smirked, he also wanted Hongjoong to let go of that tension. There was no point in staying like this for the rest of the night, what mattered was that everyone was fine and that man was far away from you. Of course, he had also been worried, but he needed to be more rational now that everything was over and tempers had calmed down. It wouldn't be good to suffocate you with it anyway.

“So, is San that childhood friend you talked about once?” Hwa asked curiously.

“Yes! I'm really amused to meet him again in such an unexpected way.” You commented, eager to talk to San again. You were really interested in knowing how he had been and what he was doing now.

“Did you exchange phone numbers? You told him to text you.” He said it in a teasing tone, knowing it would make you feel awkward.

“Actually, I didn't get his number, I just gave him mine. He didn't have his phone with him, so I just wrote it down on his hand. But he seemed serious and honest while we were talking, so I believe he'll text me.” You replied. Seonghwa seemed interested and curious, while Hongjoong looked uncertain.

He had no plausible reason for it. After all, it had already been clarified that San hadn't done you any harm at the party, and the fight was because he defended you. Hongjoong had to give him credit for that. But still, he couldn't quite explain why, something inside him didn't sit right with San.

Maybe it was just strangeness at first sight. He saw San in the heat of the moment and instantly assumed he was also causing trouble for you, so that first impression could be clouding his mind for now. He couldn't just pick on San without reason, so he would have to let it go eventually.

But he remained intrigued until then. 

“I'm going in. Thanks for the ride, Joong.” You said after noticing that rain drops had begun to fall, but quickly turning into a heavy downpour. You unbuckled your seatbelt and leaned over to say goodbye to your friends, kissing Hongjoong on the cheek and doing the same with Seonghwa. “Good night!”

You got out of the car, quickly checking that you hadn't left anything behind in the back seat, and ran to the front door so you wouldn't get too wet.

“Good night, y/n! Talk to you tomorrow.” Hongjoong said and turned on the windshield wipers to clear the glass and maintain a clear view during the rain that had started.

“Of course it will be tomorrow. I know you guys are still going to have sex when you get home!” You joked humorously, finally making Hongjoong laugh.

“We haven't called it a night yet,” he replied in the same tone, and you waved as you watched him start the car and drive away with Seonghwa, before unlocking the door and entering the house, tired and wanting to throw yourself into bed.

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A few hours had passed and San was still with his friends. However, the group was already exhausted, it was two  in the morning and everyone was gathered outside, hitting the car while Yunho unlocked the doors and they got in.

The rain that had started helped them in wanting to leave after it turned into a storm.

Yunho wasn't exactly sober, but everyone else was much drunker than he was, so he would remain the driver. San could have taken the lead and driven in his place, but his head was immersed in the events of earlier, so he did not offer. He had found you again in the most unexpected way possible. So he just let Yunho drive in the state he was in, without giving it much thought.

Even though he planned to find you somehow, it all happened so fast and off track that it took him by surprise.

While San was lost in thoughts, a drunk Wooyoung argued with Yunho at the wheel about how he missed out on getting off back in the party due to his friend who was driving. Yeosang laughed at them two, finding it comical that they were both interested in the same girl, creating an awkward situation as they tried to win her one over another.

The girl ended up choosing to walk away, and Wooyoung, now slurring his words and reasoning like a child, blamed Yunho.

“What comforts me is knowing that you didn't fuck anyone either!” Wooyoung teased Yunho, making Yeosang laugh a little louder.

“Wait a minute, wait.” Yunho said, stopping Wooyoung who was grumbling. “San, weren't you with a girl a few hours ago? Y/n. What happened? We thought you had already won the night.”

“It's true, you didn't fuck anyone either. Fuck, are we that bad? I think you jinxed us tonight, San.” Wooyoung said, turning his attention back to San.

“Shut up.” San said, chuckling while rolling his eyes, shrugging and looking at the neighborhood through the car window. “You guys didn't stand a chance anyway.”

“Ouch!” Yunho exclaimed dramatically, and Yeosang laughed even harder.

After driving a little further, the car was already on a street very close to San’s house. Yunho slowed down to park near the sidewalk so San could get out, which was the most practical thing to do at that moment, considering that San's house was set back from the other houses on the street, and Yunho would have to turn onto a short dirt road surrounded by bushes, near a forest, making the way back difficult, especially since it was raining heavily. And he would still have to drop off his other two friends at home as well.

San said goodbye without much emotion, his mind still reeling from the conversation he had with you and you leaving with your friends.

“Good night, Sannie!” Wooyoung shouted through the window of the moving car, teasing his friend who was getting wet in the rain. “If you want, Yeosang won't mind warming up the bed for you!”

“Hey!” Yeosang pinched Wooyoung on the exposed skin of his neck.

“Thanks,’’ San chuckled. ‘’I think I'll pass this time.” He replied in the same humorous tone as Wooyoung, watching his friend tease Yeosang, who was pushing him by the shoulders, while Yunho drove on and the car disappeared from San's view.

It was late, and the rain seemed to make everything much darker than it already was, with only the scattered streetlights providing illumination. Everyone was already deep asleep, there was no one wandering the streets except for San. The houses had their curtains closed and lights off, the only noise came from the water falling heavily against the ground and the roofs of the houses, a few crickets, and San's footsteps, but they were still muffled by the rain.

However, San noticed another noise echoing along with his footsteps.

When he turned around, he saw nothing, which he found strange. He then walked slowly, not caring about the water that soaked him completely. He carefully observed the perimeter, letting his senses work hard to pick up the mingling noises, until, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed moves coming from across the street, just a few meters away.

Among the backyards of the houses in the neighborhood, someone was walking stealthily, as if trying to avoid the streetlights, wandering almost like a shadow.

At first, San remained nonchalant and kept walking slowly, matching the pace of the hidden person in order to study their next moves.

He kept his head up and focused on his path, his eyes relaxed and his hands in his pockets, pretending to be someone who was completely oblivious, even though he was alert.

It wasn't long before the person changed their pace and took an opportunity to get much closer to San. Swiftly, the person crossed the street through the gap between the fences, at a moment when the path on the street had narrowed, strategically reducing the space between them two. 

But San was quicker, already expecting action at any moment. He turned abruptly, thrusting his body to the side, avoiding impact between their bodies, and with the malicious person's lack of attention, San was able to immobilize the man and gain the upper hand, grabbing him from behind, letting his arms pin the stranger's arms back and pushing him to the ground using the strength of his knee.

It wasn't exactly very difficult, considering that the person didn't seem very sober, his movements were messy, and his sense of space and speed must have been clearly distorted.

San was surprised to notice that the person was the same man from the party earlier, whom he had attacked to defend you.

The man seemed more affected by alcohol than when San had fought him earlier; he must have drunk a lot more after the incident. San wanted to laugh, he couldn't believe that this man had followed him and tried to get revenge in that condition.

“You're such an idiot...” San said impatiently, finding the guy pathetic. The man struggled, trying to free himself from San's grip.

The two of them stood just before the curb, the man's face forced to stare at the water that accumulated and drained into the storm drains, while them were already completely soaked wet.

"Did you think I'd just let what you did slide? You're going to pay for that, you son of a bitch! Why don't you get off me like a bitch, and face this like a man, huh?!" The man spat out the words, making clear his disgust for San, who just laughed with mockery and pressed his knee harder against the man lower back, causing his face to contort.

“You want to settle this like a man? Then I'll show you what I'm capable of...”

With that, San got off the man, leaving him free to get up. He did so, but he didn't get up as quickly as San, the dizziness from his attempt to be agile affecting his reflexes, leaving him momentarily lightheaded and hindering his moves.

The alcohol in his blood made him perceive his own rhythm differently than it actually was, in addition to the rain clouding his vision. Thus, he staggered towards San, who did not give him time to assimilate his next movements: with agility and skill, San plunged a sharpened knife into the man's guts, just below the navel, causing him to choke on a bloody scream, muffled by the rain.

His mouth quickly turned red, his teeth stained by the blood that flowed uncontrollably from the blow that struck his guts.

It happened too fast, he didn't even have a chance to see when San quickly pulled the knife from his waistband, waiting for him to turn conveniently to strike him.

As fast as the first blow, San pulled the knife and stabbed the man once more, and so he did repeatedly. The man's face was contorted in terror and agony, the sounds coming from his mouth were muffled and choked as if he were drowning in his own blood, which was spurting everywhere due to the punctures and mixing with the raindrops that was coming in through the opening of his screams.

With the strength draining from his body, he fell to his knees and San struck him one last time, this time hitting his chest, taking his last breath of life before he fell lying on the ground.

Conveniently, everything was being muffled by the storm that was taking over the place, the wind howling along with the strong streams of water that flooded the ground and made the man's blood flow along with the water accumulated on the curb.

“What's the matter? Not man enough to fight back?” San mocked, his eyes completely dilated and his arm stained with blood. He kicked the fallen man's body, as if checking for a reaction. “That's what I thought.”

He crouched down, wiping the excess fluid that stained the blade on the clothes of the man, now dead in the middle of the street, and put it away again. San deftly turned him over and lifted his still-warm torso to pull him off the ground and lay him on his back. With another swift movement, he now carried the man to his house, leaving behind him the storm to wash away the traces of blood and drain them into the gutter.

Anyone who saw them at that point would think that San was carrying a drunk friend home.

He was only a few steps from his house, he just had to cross the fence that marked the space between the last house on the right side of the street and the beginning of the bushes that surrounded the area.

He entered the front yard and went around the house to the backyard. There, he let the man fall to the ground inside a small shed where tools, yard equipment, and old things were stored.

The thud of the man hitting the old wooden floor caused San to hear some noises, such as keys in his pocket and also a slightly heavier object.

Groping around, he took the dead man's wallet, keys... and a phone from his clothes.

It was a bit covered in droplets of water and blood, which San carefully wiped off, but the device did not appear to be damaged.

San rummaged around a little more, seeing that the phone worked normally and did not even have a lock screen password. He couldn't help but look at the man with a contemptuous gaze, finding him completely stupid.

“You really made things a lot easier for me.” San checked the palm of his hand, where you had written your phone number, seeing that the ink from the pen was smudged and almost fading due to the humidity and fluids that had wet it.

He quickly looked for a paperclip or something thin enough to remove the SIM card from inside the phone, and when he did, he destroyed it by breaking it into several pieces.

He opened the phone's dialing app, typed your number on the screen, and saved it in the internal memory. San wasn't technologically illiterate. Sure, he wasn't an expert and wasn't as tech-savvy as his friends and you could be now, but it wasn't as if he hadn't had access to cellphones while he was locked up. 

In fact, he had brought an old device with him. It was nothing like the much more modern and functional phone he now had in his hands, but its main use was that it had another sim card he could use.

There was no prison or rehabilitation facility, even for minors, that was free of corruption and illicit items.

San knew how to get by; he hadn't survived all this time for nothing.

Some phones were old, used by some inmates to make secret calls and exchange messages. Others were more modern, but lacked internet. Not all of them had signal.

San was not and never had been a prominent figure in these smuggling and illicit activities, which could compromise his status and development within the system, but he was not innocent either. He was not trying to change himself, he was just trying to be convincing and reverse his position.

He had his ups and downs, learning from the downs and improving himself. Before being released, San was able to bring with him some unauthorized belongings that he managed to hide, among them an old and worn-out but functional smartphone.

He was going to use it temporarily, but it seemed he got a replacement faster than he planned, and it would do the job.

However, he knew he had to be more cautious than that if he didn't want that device to be tracked. He would have some time to do so, considering that it would take a few hours before anyone noticed that man went missing.

San put the phone in his pocket, looking around and sighing in frustration. There were few things in that old shed, almost none of which San wanted or needed.

He would have to improvise until he got everything right; he really needed a job as soon as he could get one.

For now, San removed the clothes from the man's body, searched for more belongings or anything else attached to him, such as piercings and rings. He left everything aside in the corner, dragging the now naked body to the center of the shed and looking for a saw in the toolbox.

He would have a long night ahead of him.

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You curled up in bed after taking a shower, the warmth of the sheets embracing your body and cuddling you from the cold that the rainy weather had brought, while the raindrops hit your window.

You unlocked your phone, checking for notifications, but there were none that interested you.

San hadn't sent you a message. This made you pout and frown. Was he snubbing you? You wanted to believe he wasn't, after all, what would he gain by messing with that guy and attacking him to defend you, only to ignore you?

It didn't seem to make much sense.

Maybe San was just asleep at this hour, you thought. You shouldn't overthink it, you were at a party a few hours ago, it was likely that he and his friends were drunk and wasted by now.

Anyway, you couldn't take your mind off the latest events. The unexpected reunion with San, the conversation you two had, the things he said that made your heart ache.

But mainly, the way he didn't hesitate for a second to defend you and how he took down that despicable man.

You shouldn't have been so affected by it, that wasn't how the night should have gone. You should have had a little more fun and enjoyed the company of your friends. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to drink a little more, you thought.

But you couldn't shake the warm feeling of welcome, and a touch of nostalgia, of having been protected by someone you never completely forgot.

San awakened a dormant feeling inside you, one you still couldn't quite identify. You had doubts about what was in your heart at that moment, because you knew it was a shock to see him so out of nowhere when you believed you would never see him again.

It resembled the same feeling back then when San defended you from boys who teased you, creating an almost vengeful satisfaction inside your chest. It didn't carry the same darkness as San, but you didn't know that.

It was just satisfying that your friend could protect you and, in an instant that he was being aggressive, he would switch and become careful with you.

You couldn't name it. 

You felt confused, but at the same time were glad to have found him again. And you couldn't deny how attractive he was. It was easy to get confused by beautiful people, you knew that.

You also thought you should update Hongjoong and Seonghwa about this. Even though they knew about your life, your two friends didn't know everything in such depth, and the topic of San was one of the things they didn't know so well. Perhaps it was appropriate to talk about it now that you had introduced them and because Hongjoong seemed uncertain due to his first impressions.

Before you started to get lost in your thoughts, your phone vibrated with a notification, catching your attention. Your heart fluttered as you checked it and saw a message.

[Unknown number]: Hey

[Unknown number]: Sorry for taking so long, I stayed up a little late playing with Wooyoung and the others

[Unknown number]: I thought about calling you, but I figured you'd already be asleep. Anyway, you can save this number

You almost jump out of bed, quickly sitting up straight and replying almost immediately while saving his number, without even thinking that you were acting like a flustered teenager.

[You]: It's okay

[You]: I wasn’t expecting you to text me right away

Lie...

[Sannie]: Oh, so you're still awake?

[Sannie]: Then it wouldn't have hurt if I called

[Sannie]: Did you get home okay?

You felt embarrassed about how your cheeks burned with that simple message showing concern.

[You]: Yes, I did

[You]: And by the way, thank you again

[You]: You know, for standing up for me earlier

[Sannie]: No need to thank me

[Sannie]: I would never let anything happen to you on my watch

There was silence on both sides. You stared at San's message, not knowing exactly how to respond. It was as if he was acting as if he had never disappeared from your life, but at the same time it was adorable. You felt more and more like you were back in your past, letting San's affectionate behavior embrace you.

On the other hand, San reevaluated the message he had just sent, regretting having sent it on impulse. He thought about how you would analyze it, since he had just entered the scene. He didn't want you to think he was weird.

But he couldn't help it, he had been sincere.

It was lucky for him that you were sufficiently affected by that night, added to the emotional memories, you listened much more to his vulnerable side.

[You]: You never did, did you?

[You]: I'm going to sleep, Sannie, the sound of the rain is making me sleepy

[You]: See you later

[You]: Good night

On the other side of the screen, San typed a “Never will” but deleted it, choosing to leave the subject implied, saying goodbye.

[Sannie]: Okay, good night, y/n

[Sannie]: Good dreams

You felt warm, no longer from the blankets, but from having spoken to San, even if only briefly, and feeling so comfortably familiar with him, as if you had never been apart.

You chilled out and let sleep gradually take you over completely, until you fell asleep believing that San had done the same.

However, despite what you thought, some streets away, San was wide awake and shirtless, inside the shed that now had blood flooding the floor.

He dropped the phone on an old table attached to the wall. Just before sending the message, San thought it would be better to go to his bag and swap the sim card between cellphones, and simply send a message right away. He feared he would give the wrong impression if he didn't speak that night.

But it was very brief. He would make sure you two talked longer, or at least met later.

At that very moment, while you were sleeping, San was sweating despite the mild weather and the cool breeze brought by the rain outside. Inside the shed, it was stuffy, and San was working hard, using his strength to separate the limbs of the body lying on the floor with a saw.

But it wasn't easy.

It was the first time San had done this to a body, starting with the upper limbs, then the lower ones.

He made a bigger mess than he would have liked, his clothes were completely washed in blood while the old wooden floor was stained by the amount of fluid that dripped down.

He was angry and truly frustrated. He didn't have what he needed to do things right, so as a consequence, he made a lot more mess and wasted a lot more time.

San wiped some sweat drops from his forehead with the back of his hand, taking a look at how things were going.

The buckets he had found there now contained limbs he already tored apart from the body and were almost full of blood that was dripping from the flesh. This set off a warning in his mind, prompting him to take note that the human body had much more blood than it seemed after you cut someone into pieces.

Just as it wasn't easy to get through the bones.

He would need to find a stronger and more efficient tool for this if he wanted to do a cleaner and faster job.

He walked around what was left of the body lying on the floor, bending down to look closely at the face of the man he had killed. San ran his fingers across his face, sliding them up to his head, where he grabbed his hair.

“Look at you... you don't seem so brave now, do you?” San sneered, looking at every detail of the lifeless face. “You could have just gone home, but you chose to play the tough guy. Deep down, you just wanted to prove it to yourself, didn't you?”

San laughed to himself.

He let go of the man's head and grabbed the saw firmly, positioning it on the dead body's neck, and began to saw.

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Dawn painted the sky in shades of lilac and orange, and the sun would begin to rise shortly. San threw the saw on the ground, tired and sleepy.

He placed the buckets he had set aside in the right corner of the room, camouflaged by a pile of old things and some shelves. The torso left on the floor was dragged to the other end, where San covered it with an old, dusty tarp.

He put the belongings he had taken from the man, who now rested in pieces, into a plastic bag and left the shed, making sure to lock it securely. He entered the house through the back door and went straight to the bathroom upstairs.

He was exhausted and had a headache, his hands hurt, and there were already calluses on his palms.

He dropped his clothes and the plastic bag on the floor, got into the bathtub, turned on the shower, and let the water wash his body, scrubbing every inch of it, not forgetting to clean his nails. He wanted to remove all traces of blood.

San didn't even know how long he had spent in the bath, but when he got out of the tub and let the water drain away, the sun was already shining brightly and the sky was clear and blue.

He left his clothes on the floor where they were, reaching only for his wallet, rummaging through each compartment and taking the bills it contained.

With that in mind, San took the plastic bag and left the bathroom to his room, not caring about his naked, soaked body dripping water abundantly, forming slippery trails on the floor. He knew where he would hide it until he got rid of every possible trace properly.

Holding the bloodstained clothes of the man he had murdered, along with his other belongings remained in the bag, San headed straight for the spot he knew so well in his youth, a false bottom in the floor of his bedroom, just below his bed.

He felt around on the floor, finding the markings on the wooden slats that indicated it was the right place to open. It hadn’t enough space, but at least it would come in handy for hiding most of those things. As for the sneakers, he left them under his bed.

He left his room and headed to his father's, intending to make himself comfortable there instead of his own. Not only did it have more space, it was more convenient.

San reached for the old closet, but because he was completely wet and water was dripping from his body, from his hair to his feet, he ended up slipping and falling backwards onto the floor. The impact caused his body to fall heavily, hitting the surface near the bed hard and his head hitting the wood on the floor, which echoed an odd noise.

It shouldn't have been something to notice, but San realized how the thud made it sound like something had shaken. Like a hollow space in the floor...

He got up, massaging the throbbing area of his head, and looked carefully: the wooden slats where he had hit his head had a pattern similar to the false bottom in his room, perfectly aligned with the others, but with the edges that didn't seem to fit so well with the floor.

He stuck his finger between the slats and tried to pry them up, seeing that they came out easily, revealing that there was indeed a compartment underneath. Inside were a few packages, tied with rubber bands. San picked up one of the packages, tearing off the rubber band and the dark plastic that wrapped around it, revealing crumpled bills.

A single package contained countless bills, causing San's eyes to shine with greed and excitement. He opened the other packages, just tearing the plastic enough to make sure they all contained money, and a thrill struck his chest.

It was perfect. But how and why was it there?

It certainly wasn't from his father, because if it were, he would have spent it all on booze until there wasn't a penny left. He wouldn't have been able to save all that money without his addiction getting in the way. He had tried to kill San for money in the past, so he certainly wouldn't have had that amount to save.

Could it be his mother's? She could have been secretly saving it to leave and start a new life far away, but then why didn't she take the money with her when she left?

The only plausible explanation for San was that his mother had left so urgently and hastily that she hadn't left the way she had planned, leaving the money behind and not considering returning to get it. In a way, it seemed to make more and more sense the more San thought about it.

He wasn't sure, it was the only thing he could come up with at the moment, but given the circumstances, he wouldn't be surprised if that was really the case. After all, he didn't see his mother leave, she didn't say goodbye, and she didn't take any other belongings with her.

He woke up one day and she was gone. Downstairs were a mess all over the place, things scattered, chaos reigning supreme, while San's father sat drinking on the steps outside, the door open, lost in thoughts.

San thought that was the most likely explanation, but he tried to shake those thoughts from his head; they were useless. She had left many years ago, without even looking for San, without coming back for him, leaving him to his own devices.

It didn't matter anymore, he had found the money, and now that amount would be his. It would come in handy, it was the most opportune moment for it.

He removed some bundles of money, leaving the rest where it was and putting the wooden plank back.

However, before he could completely close the space, hiding the packages again, he couldn't help but let a thought cross his mind and intrigue him.

If his mother had left the way she planned, would she have taken San with her?

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You woke up and stirred in bed, stretching as you fumbled around the mattress for your phone. You'd overslept considering the time you went to bed, but at least you felt refreshed for another day.

You rubbed your eyes and sat up, running a hand through your hair, blinking slowly. You were giving your body and mind time to wake up from the sleep trance, to get the engines running again.

Mechanically, you brought a hand to your wrist, massaging the area until, upon closer inspection, you noticed a slight purplish tone around it. It must be from that man's aggressive grip the night before, holding on so tightly it left a mark.

Inevitably, your mind wandered to San, recapping everything from the previous night. Almost instinctively, your heart beat faster. You wondered if he had already gotten up, and if so, what he was doing at this time in the morning.

You unlocked your phone and checked your messages, seeing a notification in the chat with San.

[Sannie]: Good morning, y/n

[Sannie]: Hope you slept well

[Sannie]: You're not hungover from last night, are you?

You chuckled softly, not even realizing that your smile was frozen on your face as you read San's messages, like a silly, innocent girl.

[You]: Good morning, Sannie

[You]: Yeah, I slept well, I didn't drink much last night. Actually, I only had a little.

The previous night was heated, and the tiredness also limited the time you wanted to spend with San and talk a little more. You definitely wanted to see him again.

[You]: Are you free this afternoon?

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Things didn't exactly go as planned when San went to the party that night. He didn't sleep with any girl and didn't lose his virginity. Although he wanted to experiment, he couldn't complain about the turn of events that led him to meet you and completely change the focus of the night.

Now, he had arranged a date and would talk more and spend quality time together. At least, for San, it would be a date.

He was looking forward to it.

It relieved him that he had found that money, at least now he could afford to buy what he needed at that moment. He had found some of it in a nearby warehouse. However, he still needed some products, and given the items he was carrying, it might seem a little suspicious to buy everything together.

He moved from one warehouse to another, a little further away, where he bought some chemicals. In another store, he bought some other type of cleaning products that he hadn't been able to find in the warehouse, but which would also be useful.

For much of the morning, San wandered around, going from one place to another and returning home, only to go out again shortly after. He didn't have a car, so he couldn't carry much using only his hands. A car or truck was another item he would make sure he had to make his life easier.

In the end, after all the back and forth, San brought home barrels, refined and sharpened sawing tools, and tapes. Also a long rope, chains, and new padlocks. Following that, he brought several gallons with different products, latex gloves, and built up a veritable stockpile in the pantry and the shed in his backyard.

He was tired, hadn't slept at all, and still needed to finish what he started; the task awaited him inside the shed, covered by a tarp.

He grabbed one of the barrels and dragged it over next to the buckets he’d set aside. Using his bare hands, he picked up the dismembered pieces one by one, making sure the blood dripping off stayed in the bucket. He tossed them into the barrel and, once he was done with the buckets, grabbed one of the jugs and poured all of it into the barrel.

After emptying the acidic liquid, he walked over to the hose lying on the ground, turned on the faucet near the shed outside, and let the water run into the container, intensifying the chemical reaction.

San used another barrel, this time for the torso. He dropped the stump inside and poured in another jug of sulfuric acid. He’d expected it to eat through the flesh and break it down instantly, but that wasn’t exactly what happened.

His eyes burned, his hand tingled, and he felt slightly dizzy, probably because he wasn’t wearing any protection, even though he’d bought it. Either way, just like with the first barrel, San turned on the hose and let the water run until the remains were fully submerged. He sealed the barrels and covered them with the tarp. He’d leave them there for a while, until he decided it was enough.

Afterwards, San decided to stop by the supermarket to pick up some supplies. He hadn’t planned on buying so much at once, but his fridge was completely empty, and the cupboards were full of roaches and years-old expired food, which he threw out.

He needed to get by. San pushed the cart down the aisles, tossing in only things that were easy to make. He wasn’t a good cook, honestly, he had no skills in the kitchen at all.

As he turned into the next section of the store, the butcher’s counter, San came face to face with Yeosang behind the counter. He shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Yunho had mentioned that Yeosang worked at the supermarket.

“San!” Yeosang greeted him. He was wearing white latex gloves, a white apron, and what looked like a coverall with the zipper half open.

“Hey,” San replied. “I thought you worked the register.”

“Oh, no, not really,” Yeosang said. “I work back here in the butcher section. They’re always short on people. Not everyone wants to deal with this part of the store.”

San tilted his head, curious.

“Really? I thought it was the other way around.” He glanced up at the price list posted on the board above the counter. A woman brushed past Yeosang, holding a slip of paper, and asked him to check it.

“Yeah, looks good. You can put it up front, okay?” Yeosang said to her, which only made San more curious. “Oh, it’s a notice. We’re hiring for the butcher section. I could really use some help, so I asked my supervisors to open a position.”

“Really? That’s interesting. You know, I’m actually looking for a job, Yeosang. Think you could do a favor for a friend of your friends—who also happens to be your friend?”

Yeosang laughed. “You’d really want to work here? I didn’t think this was your kind of job. I mean, I figured you already worked in an office or something, like Yunho and Wooyoung.”

“And what’s wrong with that? It’s an honest job like any other. Besides, I wouldn’t mind the quieter moments back here.” San cocked his head, smiling at Yeosang with easy confidence.

“If you really want it, then yeah, I can help you out,” Yeosang said at last, making San smile with his eyes, an expression sweet on the outside but heavy with intent beneath it.

"Thanks, man. Now, can you get me some ribeye steaks, about one inch thick, please?"

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[mimipoke]

VERMILION - C. SAN

Part 1.

☙.꩜ 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.

☙.꩜ Wc: 8.7k

☙.꩜ Pairing: Psycho!San x afab!reader

☙.꩜ Genre: [+18] angst, thriller (guess i can put it that way), romance, smut

☙.꩜ Warnings: MDNI!;dark themed; MURDERS; blood; extreme violence; traumas; angst; psychopathy; San has mommy issues and a distorted idea of ​​love; San is cold, selfish, self-centered, and toxic; this is not a romanticized relationship; evental smut (with foreplay, oral, piv, etc); representation of sexism and misogyny; dismemberment and some gore things; it may be sensitive for some audiences; you have been warned

THIS IS ONLY FICTIONAL AND DO NOT REPRESENT WHAT ANYBODY MENTIONED ARE IN REAL LIFE NOR HOW DO I PICTURE THEM!

☙.꩜ VERMILION MASTERLIST

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The sunny sky and the breeze, which rustled the leaves of the trees and San's hair, contrasted with the dimly lit corridor and rusty gates outside the detention center.

The guards escorted San to the exit door, where he was finally released with his backpack, carrying a few belongings.

One of the guards handed San a piece of paper, a brief form document signed by the Director and the psychiatrist responsible for him. The paper was a mere formality, and in this way, he was officially free. No more walls and electric fences.

No more sessions, no more meds. No more of this bullshit.

However, he was completely alone now. He only had one place he could go at that moment, since he had no other option.

His old house.

San was considerably far away, having been taken to the other side of the state, but he managed to get a ride on the road after getting far enough away from the detention center.

A mature man was driving him to his neighborhood, even though it wasn't very close to where he was going. San had his charm, after all. Needless to say, San was a sight for sore eyes to him. San took the opportunity.

A few smiles, a confident look, and his hair pulled slightly back were enough to tickle the stomach of the slim man who was driving calmly. San's neighborhood was a few kilometers from his final destination, but he would do this favor for San since he was being so pleasant and handsome.

Upon seeing the sign indicating the location, the car stopped and San got out, thanking him for the ride.

“Thank you, Mr. Davenport.” San leaned on the driver's side window with an arm. “And have a good trip.”

“You're welcome, dear…” Mr. Davenport said, flustering and blushing shyly for a man his age, San's smile made him feel like a flirtatious teenager. “I hope everything goes well with your parents, they must miss you.”

“They're in for quite a surprise.” He smiled at the lie he'd told in the car the man had mentioned.

San talked through the whole way, reluctantly, feeling the urge to push him out of the moving car and drive himself. However, it would be too much work, and at the moment, he just wanted to get there quickly. So, he said he was going to visit his parents unexpectedly, as he hadn't seen them in a while. And, well, part of it was true…

He walked away from the vehicle and the man drove off, oblivious to the reality.

San looked around. Much remained the same, some things were different, renovated, others simply seemed to no longer exist. But still, everything seemed very familiar.

He put his backpack on one shoulder and started walking. His house was a little further away from the houses in the neighborhood, so he carefully observed his surroundings as he made his way. He hoped it hadn't been auctioned off or something like that.

After some minutes, as he passed a certain street, San began to see everything he knew so well from when he was just a teenager, like he was walking back to that time. Nothing had changed there.

Then, he heard a voice:

“San? Is that really you?” He stopped walking, he knew who it was even before turning around.

“Long time no see, Wooyoung.” San replied without much emotion.

“Back from the dead?” Wooyoung joked, smiling as he approached. His hair was longer than San was used to seeing, his bangs falling over his eyes and a few strands framing his face.

“Just back from custody.” San replied, his words vague.

Wooyoung was San's second closest friend, with whom he used to hang out and drink on the sly, play games, or just get up to boyish things.

The two also studied at the same school; it was a shock to Wooyoung when he learned that San had been taken by the police, equally unaware of the dark events.

Seeing him again in such an unexpected way was like turning on a light in the depths of his mind, rescuing memories. For him, it was good to see San.

San maintained his calm and composed demeanor, without much ceremony. His expression was neutral, not interpreted negatively by his old friend, despite hiding his complete indifference. However, a hint of interest arose subtly, after all, if Wooyoung still lived around, it meant he knew things that had happened during San's absence.

He could ask about you.

But first, he would go to his old house.

“Hey, man, uhm—” Wooyoung began, uncertain whether he should bring up the subject or not. “Are you okay? I mean, it's just that, the last time I heard from you, well… your father…”

“I'm fine.” San finally said, noticing his friend's struggle formulating the sentence, disconcerted by touching on a subject that, for anyone, was delicate and very complicated. But, for San, what happened was just natural. He felt nothing about it. Not about his father. “I'm going home now.”

“Are you serious? You’re going back there?” Wooyoung didn’t mean to sound nosy or bothersome, but he couldn’t control himself. Why would anyone go back to that house?At least, he wouldn't.

“Yeah, I will. It's been a while, hasn't it?” San said, showing Wooyoung a relaxed smile. “And besides, it's still my house. All my stuff is in there. I think…”

“Dude, you're crazy.” Wooyoung said at last, chuckling softly.

San continued walking, Wooyoung now beside him. The two talked about old times, Wooyoung feeling nostalgic after seeing his friend again, remembering how much fun they used to have, teasing San about how terrible he was with girls.

“I mean, not with all of them. You and y/n were inseparable.” Finally, he brought up the subject. It was San's cue to ask.

“We were good friends,” he smiled slightly. “It was good to have a girl like her around. I wonder where she is now…”

“Ah, y/n is in college, man. Unlike us losers, she got good grades.” Wooyoung replied, indifferent to the life you led, but a spark ignited in San’s eyes upon hearing the answer. “I heard it’s not very far from here. She comes home every weekend, I’ve seen her a few times at Will’s convenience store.”

“College, huh? I’m not surprised. She really always was a nerd.” Wooyoung laughed.

“But what about you? Man, you’re huge. All buff. What have you been up to?” His friend asked, amused, noticing San’s clear physical transformation. He was more muscular now, his arms and shoulders seemed to have tripled in size, his chest broad and voluminous, visible by the thin layer of clothing he wore. His silhouette was robust and defined. Wooyoung was amazed.

“I’ve been exercising a lot, it was great for keeping my time and mind occupied.” He was honest for the first time in a while. “But, in addition to that, I did some extracurricular activities. I finished high school remotely, I never imagined that was possible. They made me learn some other things too, like literature and mechanics.”

San's years in the detention center weren't just about grueling sessions with psychiatrists and sunbathing. Because it dealt with juvenile offenders, the system encompassed a series of programs to rehabilitate and occupy the boys. Of course, not everything was effective, but the state couldn't neglect the boys’s education and activities like any other youth.

San was compelled to finish school, as he didn't have many alternatives inside, and besides, he earned points for it. Afterwards, he participated in support and learning groups, where he had literature and English classes. He read quite a few books in the library there, thanks to that.

Finally, San dedicated himself to technical activities. He learned the basics of electricity, mechanics, and cooking. It wasn't exactly in-depth learning, but he strove to absorb as much as he could, after all, he didn't want to extract only the superficial. When he was alone with items he stole from the rooms, he experimented on his own to see what he could do and how physics could work. It wasn't much, but it was enough given the limitations he faced while imprisoned in that place.

The two continued chatting casually until they reached San's destination.

The house was abandoned, overgrown with weeds, revealing its neglect and lack of maintenance. The wooden beams were stained and dusty. Police tape was still scattered on the floor in some places.

As they approached the house, a strong smell of mold invaded the nostrils of both men. Wooyoung grimaced, feeling the unpleasant odor bother his senses. San took another step forward, checking the doorknob. It didn't open immediately, leading him to believe it was locked, but with some force, the door opened, spilling a little dust.

Wooyoung waved his hands, trying to get rid of the particles flying towards them, and the smell of mold intensified after the door was opened.

“Are you really going in there? Don’t tell me you can stand this smell.” Wooyoung pulled at the collar of his shirt, dramatically covering his nose, while frowning in discomfort.

“I already said, I still live here. It won’t stay like this for long, now there’s someone to take care of this place and… tidy it up.” San said, shrugging as he walked ahead. The house was dark, some things were out of place, probably because of some police inspection on the day of the crime.

Dust covered every corner, some cobwebs hung between the walls, making the air even more unpleasant. All the windows were closed, which accentuated the strong smell. Bloodstains were still visible on the floor, after all, the police and detectives weren’t going to clean it up, they weren’t working on that.

Wooyoung felt his stomach churn, he didn’t feel good seeing stains that were part of the bodily fluids of someone he knew had been murdered in cold blood. To him, it seemed too explicit, and he didn’t like that. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t be a wimp.” San questioned when his friend looked away, running a hand over his forehead.

The same Wooyoung who used to secretly drink with money stolen from San’s father, bother younger children, get into trouble with guys who they thought were losers, hunt birds and innocent small animals with him, having no idea of ​​his childhood friend’s true nature. “You didn’t used to be so cowardly when we hung out together.”

While Wooyoung simply enjoyed a poorly supervised boyhood, doing things that reckless and poorly educated boys do, San did it for other reasons. He did it because of a sick nature. He didn’t think he was rebelling. He always felt he was doing what was natural for him: satisfying his impulses, something he couldn’t yet explain or understand at that time.

But now, he understood. He felt no remorse for anything, quite the opposite, it was refreshing to be able to do whatever he wanted. All of that came from a deep place, fueling his being with the desire to fulfill his personal interests. It made him feel good.

“Man, we were just kids. It’s not the same now, I—I don’t like this stuff, I mean, it doesn’t seem very cool to see things like this now. Just look at this blood…”

The blood was already dry, mostly absorbed, its opacity was faint, so its color was almost brownish. However, a rug that was also part of the living room was no longer there. Possibly taken by the police since it also contained blood.

“Dude, what the hell happened to your dad?” Wooyoung finally asked, he had been dying to know ever since he saw San again.

San looked at him cautiously. For someone who didn't know San and had a more critical and analytical eye, adding up all the mannerisms and lack of emotion the man showed when dealing with a memory that would be traumatic for anyone, it wouldn't be difficult to conclude that San certainly wasn't acting like a normal person.

Perhaps they wouldn't see him as a psychopath right away, but they certainly wouldn't think everything was alright with him. That wasn't the case for Wooyoung. The younger man harbored a feeling of nostalgia and affection for his childhood friend, San's demeanor didn't seem much different from what he already knew and had become used to in the past. So, for Wooyoung, it was just his old friend being himself. Nothing suspicious.

"It seems he owed money to loan sharks." He lied shamelessly, while putting his hands in his pockets, examining the stained wood. "They followed him here to my house and… you know the rest."

"You—you saw everything?" Wooyoung swallowed hard, feeling empathy for his friend, wondering how difficult it must have been to live through something similar.

“No. He was already dead when I arrived.” He lied once more.

“I’m so sorry about that, San. I didn’t imagine the problems at your house were worse than they seemed.” Poor Wooyoung was being honest. Being in that place didn’t make him feel good.

San looked at him for a few seconds, his face remaining neutral, unwavering. “Thank you, Woo.”

His friend smiled sweetly at the old nickname. He squeezed San’s shoulder lightly, massaging his thumb where it met his neck.

“You need to clean this house, look at all these cobwebs! I bet it’s full of cockroaches too. Where there are spiders, there are other insects. Wow, your room must be full of them, how much do you want to bet?” Breaking the tension a little, Wooyoung changed the subject, playfully teasing his friend.

“I bet your underwear you don’t have the nerve to come upstairs and see for yourself,” San joked back.

“Thanks, pass.” Wooyoung walked away, laughing. He really didn’t want to deal with that mess, even though he was happy to see San again. Especially because of the cockroaches. A tiny one was already visible as it emerged from what seemed to be the kitchen. “It was good to see you, San. Let’s meet up more often. See you around.”

And with that, he left, saying goodbye and leaving San behind as he made his way back to where he was.

San took another look around, it really was quite dirty. He wasn't in the mood to do a thorough cleaning right now, but it would be necessary. The accumulation of dust bothered him.

He dropped his backpack on the floor, not caring if it got dirty, and rolled up his sleeves. He would clean that place for the first time in years. After all, he intended to stay there until things started working as he planned.

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You left the campus alongside Hongjoong and Seonghwa, massaging your temples. The financial management professor had been especially annoying and grumpy in class today. And, noticing that you and your two friends seemed distracted and far from the lesson, he chose you to torment throughout the class.

Hongjoong noticed your momentary stress and placed a hand on your shoulders, giving a light squeeze, letting his fingertips gently press against your skin in a rotating motion, in an attempt to snap you out of it.

You looked at him, smiling with your lips gently pressed together, thanking him with your eyes for being so thoughtful.

“I’m hungry,” Seonghwa said. “Why don’t we go to that Japanese food stall? I could get some katsu right now.” he suggested, and you and Hongjoong agreed.

Your stomach rumbled subtly at the mention of food, you were hungry too, and something tasty would be nice right now, especially to ease your tension.

The place wasn’t too far away, a few streets later, soon the three of you were in front of the small shop, placing your orders, your stomachs eagerly waiting as you sat down.

Hongjoong stretched his arm over the top of the chair, allowing Seonghwa to lean on it and rest his head on the curve of his shoulder, earning a kiss from the redhead on his hair.

You rested your elbows on the table, sighing as you remembered the week of exams that was about to begin. Your nerves would always be on edge whenever you were about to have a test, no matter how hard you tried to shake off the thought, your mind would always wander back to the same point, and your anxiety would increase.

It wasn't that you had a hard time getting good grades, nor did you have many problems studying. But still, you were always stressed about it, worried too much about maintaining a high average and having a good performance due to the preassure of being perfect and keep the good daughter role.

“I can see smoke coming out of your head from here, y/n. Jeez, relax, classes are over for today.” Seonghwa said, trying to wake you from your thoughts. “Let's have fun this weekend, Joshua said his roommate is throwing a party on Saturday.”

“I'm not sure, I need to s-“

“No, not the studying excuses!” It was Hongjoong's turn to speak to you. “You're always studying, it won't hurt to go to a party with us for just one day.”

“Anyone listening to you would think I don't hang out with you guys. So dramatic.” You retorted humorously.

“Not as much as we'd like.” Seonghwa teased. “It’ll do you good to go out and have fun before your exams, it’ll help you relax a bit. You’ll see.”

The three of you chatted a little more, your two friends helping you relieve your tension and clear your mind of things outside of class, until the order finally arrived at the table.

The tonkatsu at that place was delicious, the pork seasoning had a very pleasant taste and it was so tender. You savored the food enthusiastically, letting the taste take over your senses, releasing dopamine as the combination of rice, omelet, and fried pork blended with the sauce and numbed your mouth.

Despite not feeling like partying, Seonghwa was right. You needed to have fun, and after some more conversation, you agreed to go with them.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Seonghwa commented after swallowing, making you laugh.

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Wooyoung was right. There were more roaches hiding than San could count.

Upon going upstairs to his room, San found it just like the living room was, completely covered in dust, small insects, and cobwebs in the corners of the walls. The lack of care and daily maintenance of the house had left the rooms covered in mold and dirt, the smell was unbearable upstairs because it was much more enclosed.

It wasn't as if it had been spotless before, San's father didn't take care of anything, and San did so little. Some things were almost familiar, if it weren't for the lack of control the house was now in.

To be honest, he didn't have much patience for cleaning and washing, but it was what he had to do at the moment, since he would need to use that place and it was the least he could do if it were decent.

He started with the living room, sweeping and cleaning what he could. There were no cleaning products, except for those left behind years ago, past their expiration date. He would have to buy new ones, but he was out of money. And speaking of money, he would also need to find a job. Whatever it was, he just needed to get one quickly.

He removed the old sheets covering some of the furniture, using them to scrub the surfaces, even though it wasn't enough to clean them completely. He turned on the kitchen sink tap, and the water flowed, drawn in slowly due to his lack of habit, until it finally flowed normally.

San used the water to dampen an old cloth and clean some furniture, starting with the kitchen, then the bathroom, and then the bedrooms. The living room had a lot of wood and upholstery, so it wasn't possible to use water on anything. Upstairs, San cleaned with the same zeal, albeit superficially, creating a pile of roaches and other small dead insects as he swept the floor and left a heap to pick up with the dustpan.

It was tiring, but he did what he could to make the place minimally decent to stay in. The next day, he would find a way to get some cleaning products to clean more efficiently and remove some stains, especially those in the living room. And also to stop the strong smell of mold.

By the end of the chores, the sky was already darkening, and San realized that the lights weren't working, except for the one in the kitchen. He would have to get new lightbulbs too.

He was tired. Tired and completely filthy.

San went to the downstairs bathroom, took off his clothes, and stood in the tub, letting the shower water run over his body and wash away the droplets of sweat. He didn't care much about the cold water and the rust on the showerhead, the drain, and the curtain rods.

All the while, his mind wandered to only one place: you.

He longed to see you again, to know how you were, what you were doing, how you'd been while he was away.

If you thought of him as he thought of you, if you missed him too. And what if you had a boyfriend? He squirmed at the thought of such a possibility. But if that were the case, he wouldn't let that keep him away from you. He would fight.

He had trouble falling asleep, his mind wandering through all the reactions you could have upon seeing him again. And especially how you would feel about him after so many years apart.

San woke up lazily, still sleepy, but noises startled him out of bed. Within seconds, he could make out Wooyoung's voice calling for him. His friend knocked on the door at first, but since no one answered, he went to the side of San's room by the window, which he knew very well.

San went downstairs, his body still sleepy and begging him to go back to bed, but he decided he would answer Wooyoung.

"I can't believe it!" Yunho exclaimed when the door opened and he saw his old friend appear in front of him.

"I told you, man, he's back!" Wooyoung said from beside him, excitedly.

"So, the ladies out there have a reason to drag me out of bed?" San spoke, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Choi fucking San, aren’t you going to greet your friend Yunho?” The tall, slender man approached, giving San a light tap on the shoulder, who rolled his eyes and smiled. “I can’t believe you’re back here, man, I would never—”

“Dude!” Wooyoung hissed to Yunho, worried that San hadn’t recovered enough to talk about it so openly yet, after all, he didn’t know how his friend was really feeling about the past events in his life.

“I mean, sorry, I…”

“Cut ​​it out.” San interrupted, showing himself to be humorous, aware of the two’s awkwardness. He also didn’t want his friends to mention it every time they saw him. Despite everything, it wasn’t like he liked them bringing up that topic. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do on a Saturday morning? I thought you would have girlfriends by now.”

“Wow, look who’s sharp. Our San is still as tough as ever.” Yunho laughed at his teasing. “Wooyoungie and I didn’t have much success dating in our last experiences, we’re just having fun for now.”

“In fact,” Wooyoung said. “There’s a uni party today, you should come with us. This campus has a lot of hotties!”

Considering that San didn’t have much to do at the moment, besides his need to pick up what he’d left behind and didn’t want to lose, he considered that he should accept going out with his friends. After all, it would be beneficial for him to be with other people and analyze their behavior in such a different environment, especially Wooyoung’s and Yunho’s.

He knew he should stick with them, since he was alone in that place.

“But who invited you guys? Wooyoung didn’t tell me you were in college,” San asked curiously.

“Actually, we’re not. At least not anymore. We already have degrees, many years have passed since we entered community college.” Yunho explained.

San couldn’t help but feel freezed in time. He was caught at thirteen and only left the detention center after much effort to avoid being considered a psychopath. What took years off him, considering he was already in the middle of his twenties.

But he didn't let the spark that feeling ignited shine in his eyes for long, quickly shaking it off, maintaining his best pose.

“And you still go to college parties?” San laughed, genuinely intrigued.

Yunho and Wooyoung exchanged roguish smiles, letting a layer of lust paint their faces. “We're telling you, San. We don't know what's up with this campus, but the hottest girls always show up there. They love to play innocent, but they get nasty at these parties, you have to check it out.”

The corners of San's lips curved dangerously into a smile that wandered between excitement and curiosity, with a touch of desire.

“Say less.”

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“I thought this party was thrown by your friend Joshua’s roommate, Hwa!” you exclaimed, the noise of the music and voices in the crowd drowning out every sound you made.

You weren’t disappointed, but you expected something less than that, since you pictured it would be a simple party among acquaintances. In reality, the party was a fraternity one, and an absurd number of bodies moved between the inside and outside, people you’d never seen on campus before drinking and dancing, while your two friends pulled you further and further inside.

“Well, I forgot to mention they’re from a fraternity. But it doesn’t make much difference, does it?” He joked, and you saw Hongjoong go to a table and fill cups with drinks.

He handed them to you and Seonghwa, getting close to your ear so the loud noise wouldn’t bother you. “Let’s not think about anything tonight, let’s have fun and get laid.”

“It’s so easy for you, you have Seonghwa!” You replied humorously, taking a sip from your cup, and Hongjoong shrugged.

“It’s the same thing. But seriously, you have to get laid, how long has it been since you got off?” He teased you with a playful look, and Seonghwa lightly tapped his shoulder, warning him, but laughing.

“Joong, leave her alone.”

“You know what, I really should get laid today. Maybe it’ll bring me good luck for the exams, I think I deserve some.” You admitted, seeing Seonghwa look at you with a careful touch, wanting to make sure you were right and doing it for yourself, without resentment.

“You make me so proud!” Hongjoong said, placing his hand on his chest theatrically, making you laugh.

“It’s so hot in here!” You spoke, noticing that the place was very crowded, some people bumping into each other due to the increasingly scarce space, causing the ambient temperature to rise even though the weather was pleasant.

“Come on, let’s stay outside until you find someone cute.” Hongjoong pulled your hand and Seonghwa’s hand to the lawn.

As people came and went, you let yourself be distracted by the alcoholic beverage going down your throat, allowing your body to relax and your mind to switch off from anything other than the music and your friends entertaining you.

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A car arrived and parked a little distant from where you were. Yunho, who was driving, stopped the vehicle and his friends got out. Wooyoung and San were accompanied by another person, Yeosang, who was Yunho’s friend and worked at the supermarket in the center of the neighborhood.

Usually Yeosang didn’t follow the guys to these uni parties, he didn’t think he was into that anymore. However, they said it was a special occasion because of San, so he gave in.

When the four of them got out of the car, Wooyoung scanned the whole place with his eyes, looking pleased with the crowd and the loud music. He soon spotted a group of drunk friends, including some girls, which brought a smile to his face, and he nudged San.

“Look at this, what did I tell you? These girls wait all week to turn into real bimbos.” He said, putting his arm around San's shoulder, pulling him closer so he could look in the same direction.

San liked to drink and hang out with friends, it was something he did frequently during his boyhood, even if recklessly. Most of the time, he liked to do strange things. He liked throwing stones at small animals, birds, and observing how they would get hurt. He liked fighting with other boys and hitting them, watching them get bruised. He liked hitting boys even smaller than him, watching how they would cry and feel scared. 

Wooyoung and Yunho didn't always do things with him, he quickly realized that some of his interests only pleased him. Wooyoung and Yunho constantly teased some girls to get their attention, which San also liked. What he disliked was the way they looked at him, as if they could see all his sins and weird pastimes through his irises. He felt subjugated.

Some would give in, and Wooyoung would invite them to hang out after class. He tried to pair up his friends too, the problem was that the girl who would end up with San never liked him.

This made his blood boil, making him feel rejected and pathetic. But it wasn't exactly their fault. San wasn't very sociable when it came to girls, adding to the fact that he didn't know how to navigate through the female world. They didn't react like his friends, they didn't like the same things, and consequently, San wasn't very popular with them.

Over time, he only nurtured a frustration with this rejection. Only when Wooyoung convinced him to go to Yunho's house and play seven minutes in heaven did he have his first kiss. And it was with a girl he found utterly disgusting. But he made good use of his time anyway.

However, he felt more comfortable when he was with you. It was as if San was in a comfortable enough place to seek validation without fear, so he wasn't rude or bullying towards you. He didn't feel like doing other things when he was with you, he didn't feel the desire to provoke reactions or do what he usually did.

He felt light. He learned to deal with you when he couldn't deal with any other girl.

The dynamic between you two was different from his friendships with the boys. You were sweet, calm, and had no problem talking about anything with him, praising him for being a good listener. Of course, he had no idea how to reciprocate your conversations, so it was easier to listen than to speak. It wasn't as easy as it was with Wooyoung and Yunho.

But you didn't seem to mind.

An affectionate relationship developed between you two, where the affection you offered seemed to fill the void San felt, enough for him to always want to keep you close.

He wanted more each moment, and the more you gave, the more he seemed to need you to survive. It was like a drug.

He didn't think he would survive the years in the detention center. At some point, after some time imprisoned, he mustered the courage to think about you in other ways. He had been thinking about it, but before, guilt gnawed at him as if he were defiling a holy image, feeling horrible for picturing you in such a corrupted way.

But his body felt the need. Every cell felt utterly deprived, needing stimulation to function properly. He couldn't help it, and soon, he masturbated every night while thinking about you. While he wished you were the one who had kissed him. That you were the one he could touch in that moment.

With his body growing and maturing, he no longer wanted just tender feelings, he wanted more, he wanted it carnally. He no longer cared about fantasizing about you, now it was natural. He no longer worried about corrupting you, it seemed right. He knew that he needed to get out of there and find you.

You were the missing piece in his life; he couldn't let you slip through his fingers. He would strive and make it all worthwhile. He would find you again, and then you would realize as well that you were destined to be together. You belonged to him, just as he belonged to you. You only needed to see him again, and he would make you understand.

However, in custody since he was thirteen, in a place full of other strange boys and men who would spend their years there until they were transferred to life in prison, San remained a virgin. He felt truly frustrated.

Even if you were all he could think about, he was still a man with needs and felt his pride wounded. He felt curious and wanted to explore his masculine side.

Some of the boys detained with San seemed much more advanced in this aspect. Even so young, their lives were marked by precocious actions, especially sexuality. Some of them even had relations with each other, San had peeked at some of them at night.

But he didn't feel like doing the same with those boys. He didn't feel his body react as it did when he touched himself thinking about the softness of your skin.

He tried. He let a boy touch him secretly at night, stimulate his body and show him the things San could do to feel good. He tried to touch back. He tried to fuck him.

But it didn't work. He wasn't capable, and it angered him even more, for having been so vulnerable and failed, showing all his shame to someone who looked at him with disdain, judging him like those high school girls.

So, San gave in to his impulses again.

The next day, the boy's body was found by the morning shift guard. The security cameras were all checked, but San wasn't found guilty, nor was any suspicion raised about him. The location was a blind spot. The night shift policeman neglected his duties to get off with a nurse.

He was fired, and San got away with it.

But now, San was free, and there were several women. As Wooyoung said, bimbos, drunk and easy enough to do whatever San wanted and needed. It would be his opportunity.

He observed some girls passing by the group, checking some out. He tried to remain neutral and with an indifferent facial expression, fearing that people might read through him and know that he was a virgin.

"Let's go inside and get drinks, I want to get wasted tonight!" Wooyoung exclaimed and pushed his friends toward the entrance, which was crowded with people.

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After a few more drinks, Hongjoong and Seonghwa were already a bit drunk and flirty. You were still on your second cup, not feeling very high, in fact, you weren't feeling any effects yet. But your friends' flirtatious jokes made your cheeks blush.

"If you're too lazy to find someone, we have some space left for you, sweetie." Seonghwa joked while Hongjoong kissed his ear. They both smiled at your embarrassed expression, amused by how easy it was to tease you.

"Why blush so much? We know what you're capable of, y/n… Well, at least I do." Hongjoong spoke this time, making you roll your eyes and finish your drink in one gulp.

"You're drunk, Joong." The effect of the alcohol made him laugh exaggeratedly, Seonghwa joining in. He knew he made you flustered when he mentioned the past. "You guys are gross." You teased with a smirk, never getting used to how intimate and touchy the couple got when drunk.

“What? Don’t be a goody-two-shoes, y/n, it’s good to spice things up once in a while.” Seonghwa shamelessly flaunted the kisses Hongjoong was tracing down his neck. “Haven’t you ever tried anything different?”

“You guys are going to make me throw up. You know what? I’m getting out of here and going to get more drinks inside.” You didn’t stay to hear your friends’ response, but you could hear Seonghwa saying ‘did you bring protection?’ as you walked away, letting out a nasal laugh.

Upon entering the house again, makeshift lights flashed at different frequencies and colors, the room was bathed in red light that glowed when the leds flashed. You let the music carry you to the center, where people danced to the rhythm.

It wasn’t that you were a prude, but you weren’t as easily carried away as your friends. They were more brazen and experienced, didn't care about certain things, and were cooler than you. For Hongjoong and Seonghwa, it was easier.

You could count on your fingers how many quick flings and one-night stands you'd had since losing your virginity. Most weren't very nice, so you just accepted that casual relationships weren't your thing, however, tonight you were going to allow yourself. Not because your friends wanted to, you knew they would never force you into anything, quite the opposite, they never did anything you weren't comfortable with.

Hongjoong especially. You trusted him like no one else. Having him in your life was very important, especially because he took care of you for a long time, when you were still a naive girl, easily fooled by any boy in college. He never let you do anything you would regret.

He became a caring figure towards you, and this had stirred up many confusing feelings. Perhaps that's why you trusted him with your first time. But you would never regret it. You two were cool about it nowadays, no hard feelings, no resentment.

Even though he teased you and enjoyed your reactions, your friends were people you could count on for anything, they would be there to comfort and support you. They knew your limits, never crossing any lines.

Freeing your mind from any worries, you closed your eyes and let your body float with the music, in order to immerse yourself in intoxication and let your systems carry you forward, without worrying about anything.

The rhythm of the music was intense, but the beats of the melody were enough to guide you as you slowly moved your body. When you opened your eyes, you noticed that Seonghwa and Hongjoong had also joined in and were on the dance floor, their bodies pressed together as one. You chuckled, until you felt a presence behind you, which wasn't just another person bumping into someone due to lack of space.

You turned around and a tall man with dyed hair and tattoos was watching you with a flirtatious expression. He didn't say anything initially, just followed your movements with his body, getting into the rhythm of your dance, and you allowed it, drawn to the feline look he gave you.

“What a beautiful kitty we have in here…” oh my God, so cheesy.

The music changed and now played a more lively and vibrant melody, different from the previous one. He smiled when he saw you hesitate, thinking for a few milliseconds about how to move your body to the rhythm now.

Taking advantage of the cue, he began to dance closer to your body, bringing his lips close to your ear:

“How come I've never seen you around here before?” he asked, daring to slide one hand down the side of your body, resting on your waist.

“I don’t usually party,” you replied, your bodies pressed together, your back brushing against his chest as you moved, and you turned your face to look at him as you spoke. “I’m a little shy…”

“Shy?” He wanted to reply that you didn’t seem very shy now, but he held back. Maybe you wouldn’t like it and would push him away. “What do you think about getting something to drink, then? We can loosen up a bit more.”

With a dry throat and wanting to let more alcohol flood your system, you agreed and allowed yourself to be led to the kitchen, where other people were making themselves drinks and filling their cups.

He leaned you against the countertop, while he grabbed a bottle of tequila and poured a shot, offering it to you and pouring another for himself.

You downed it, your eyes narrowing at the way the drink went down your throat.

The man in front of you moved closer, standing side-by-side with you on the counter, putting an arm around your shoulders. He filled the glasses with another shot, which you downed along with him.

You talked a little more, but the man beside you simply wasn't interesting enough. He was handsome, you couldn't deny that, but the conversation didn't flow well. Even with the alcohol, you no longer felt on the same wavelength as him and, like a great downhill slide, you no longer wanted to have sex with him.

Maybe it was because the chatting was bad, maybe it was because he wanted to rush things a little too much when he touched you, maybe it was because he insisted on making you drink shots when you didn't want to get drunk with a stranger.

“Oh, what's wrong? We're at a party, we should drink!” He said and filled the cup again. You refused and pushed the cup away, as he tried to bring it to your mouth with his own hands.

“I'm fine.” You said, and he frowned as you moved away from the counter.

“What's wrong with you? We were just fine a few minutes ago.” He questioned, seeming annoyed with you.

“Sorry, I think I need to find my friends—”

He pulled your arm as you tried to leave, making you widen your eyes at him, triggering a major alarm.

“Your friends are probably out there in someone’s bed, not caring about you. I’m here, so why don’t you stop being a bitch and start being nice to me, huh?!” His words made your nerves sting, a rage growing inside you. Before you could process it, your hand had already slammed his face.

He looked at you incredulously.

“You…”

You flinched and tried to free your arm from his grip, at which point he raised his free hand and glared at you with fury in his eyes.

But your eyes caught a quick and effective action, taking a moment for your brain to piece things together and observe what had happened.

The man was hit by a bottle, which shattered on his head due to the strong impact, causing him to fall to the ground and become a mess amidst shards of glass and alcohol that spilled from the now broken bottle, startling you with the realization, eliciting a small scream from your throat.

From afar, Wooyoung surveyed every inch of the place, not wanting to grab the drink that was on the living room table. There was jungle juice and some other drinks made by the students, but he didn't want those. He wanted to go straight to the kitchen, where more bottles of alcohol would be waiting for him.

He wanted to drink something strong.

That's when San heard an agitated voice in the back, and his curiosity made him look in the direction of the sound. And then, he saw you.

Suddenly, the earth stopped spinning and everything around him froze. He no longer heard the music and didn't notice any other girl anymore. His heart intensified its beating, and San almost swore his chest would burst from how hard it was pounding.

You were next to a man, and he was grabbing your arm while yelling. San's body stiffened. His vision darkened. And he went impulsive again.

Without calculating his moves, he stepped away from the group and hurried towards the kitchen, which was illuminated by a fluorescent lamp, making you very visible.

He grabbed the first bottle he saw and smashed it with all his might over the man's head, who had raised his hand to hit you, throwing him to the ground.

You were stunned by the situation, soon the attention of those nearby turned to you and the man lying on the floor, struggling to get up due to dizziness and pain in his head.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa appeared immediately, they were still like lovebirds on the dance floor and heard the commotion and noticed you in the middle of the chaos.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Hongjoong asked, his gaze shifting between you, the injured man, and San.

“I-I…” you stuttered, but when your vision of the man in front of you finally became clear enough and the adrenaline coursing through your body subsided, you finally understood who it was.

And you were in shock.

“You…” your lips went weak, you didn’t know why you felt so disoriented, but at the moment it seemed like too much to process.

“Y/n.” San spoke calmly, and your eyes widened. It wasn’t a mirage or the effect of alcohol, it was him. You wouldn’t be mistaken, you weren’t confusing him, because he hadn’t changed at all. It was like seeing a ghost from the past, exactly as he was before, except he just got taller and muscular. But you would never mistake that face.

“San… San, you…” the words jumbled in your mind, you couldn’t form a sentence, looking silly in front of everyone, while your friends were confused.

“Y/n, should we be worried about these men?” Seonghwa whispered to your ear, cautiously. Hongjoong analyzed the scene with a questioning look on his face, but took a step forward, standing between you and San.

The only thing that prevented San from pushing him out of his field of vision was the man he had hit earlier, who struggled to his feet and picked up a large shard of glass from the floor.

“What’s your fucking problem, you son of a bitch?” He brandished the sharp glass at San, staggering slightly, completely enraged.

Wooyoung, Yunho, and Yeosang approached San, the first of them grabbing his arm. “San, what the hell is this?”

“He tried to hit me!” You spoke and pointed to the man from before, moving and placing yourself next to San again. “He didn’t like it when I tried to get away from him, San helped me before he could hurt me.”

The men’s eyes wandered over the man soaked in alcohol and the shard of glass he was holding.

“Let go, man, don’t make this harder.” Hongjoong spoke cautiously. Inside, he was furious, and felt a little guilty for leaving you alone since things hadn’t ended very well.

“Fuck you, you fucking fag’!” The man roared, earning a furious glare from Hongjoong and Seonghwa. He turned to San again, approaching dangerously. “Who do you think you are, you idiot? I’ll fucking kill you!”but before anyone could act and separate them, San surprised him by hitting him once more, this time with the sharp part of what remained of the bottle in his hands.

You covered your mouth in shock, and Hongjoong pulled you back protectively.

The spilled alcohol that soaked the man’s skin mixed with the blood that San had just drawn from him by plunging the glass into his flesh, tearing and opening a wound.

Wooyoung pulled San back along with Yunho and Yeosang, preventing him from going any further in the fight. The man was defeated, and that was enough, they didn't want the night to be ruined.

Some other guys pulled the man out of the house, some asking if he was alright and saying he needed to go to a hospital. But, finally, the fight was over, and people turned their attention back to the party, spreading out again throughout the house.

San, however, didn't take his eyes off you. To him, everything around him became a blur, and you were the only thing clear in his sight.

His gaze was magnetic, you couldn't look away.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone…” Hongjoong said, snapping you out of your trance, while Seonghwa hugged you by the shoulders, wanting to get you away from there.

“Wait. Just a moment, please?” You asked your friends, and moved away until you were inches from San.

“Sannie…” something in San trembled at hearing the nickname called out again by your lips. “I-is it really you?” You knew it was a silly question. But you needed San to open his mouth and confirm it one hundred percent.

“Yes, y/n. It’s me…” he softened his expression, letting the tips of his eyebrows droop, and his eyes became like a pleading puppy.

Around them, your friends looked confused, and San’s friends held back the urge to tease him, seeing him so disheveled in front of his childhood friend, except for Yeosang, who was seeing them all for the first time that night.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” You spoke in a whisper, sincere. So many years had passed that, for a little girl who was beginning to mature, you were certain he wouldn't show up again.

“I think our San is already very well established, why don't we leave him alone?” Wooyoung said to the boys, who agreed and moved away, letting San stay in your company, even though you weren't completely alone. Hongjoong and Seonghwa watched attentively, refusing to leave your side.

“Never is way too much time, isn’t it?” He said awkwardly, and you chuckled. “Yeah, quite a bit of time has passed. But here we are…”

“I—Wow, I don't even know what to say, I definitely didn't expect to see you tonight.” You ran a hand through your hair.

“Do you want to get out of here and talk?” San asked, putting his hands in his pockets, and you glanced quickly at Hongjoong and Seonghwa.

They both seemed apprehensive about the previous events. They were just worried.

“Just a minute!” You went to your friends, getting a disapproving look before you even started speaking.

“You want to go out alone again in the company of a guy who started a fight? Absolutely not.” Hongjoong was direct and incisive.

“No, you don’t understand! He defended me, he didn’t start the fight, he just… please, it won’t be long.” Hongjoong and Seonghwa exchanged glances, they didn’t want you to be naive and get into trouble.

Finally, Hongjoong sighed and agreed. “But we’ll stay nearby waiting for you, okay?”

They might seem overbearing, but they were just doing what they thought was right. They knew that a girl alone in the middle of a party with alcohol could be disastrous. Knowing that just a few minutes ago you were assaulted was enough to make them act this way. They were being responsible for their girl friend.

“We won’t be long, I promise.”

San looked at your friends, confused. Why did you need their permission to be with him? His eyes quickly darkened, intrigued by those two men who seemed to be monitoring you.

You never needed anyone’s opinion to talk to San, why would you need it now?

And why would it be quick? Didn’t you want to spend time with him?

San soon began to feel a mix of emotions hitting him hard, looking at you analytically now.

Were you still the same Y/n he knew?

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[mimipoke]

DEAL WITH THE DEVIL - J. WOOYOUNG

Summary: Wooyoung is a young actor who joins a satanic cult at his art academy, making a pact to gain fame and success. His deal? You

Wc: 5.7k

Pairing: cult member!Wooyoung and afab!reader

Warnings: MDNI; satanic cult; Wooyoung is self-centered and uses reader; manipulation; predation; stalking behavior; foreign reader; drugging; teasing; kissing; bitting; pet names; smut; DUB CON; piv (unprotected and don’t fkn do it); body restrained (tied down); neck kissing; tits play; nipple biting; fingering(f); just some foreplay; grinding; soft, fluffy sex; some dirty talking; creampie

THIS IS ONLY FICTIONAL AND DO NOT REPRESENT WHAT ANYBODY MENTIONED ARE IN REAL LIFE NOR HOW DO I PICTURE THEM!

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Nothing had ever fallen into Wooyoung’s lap as easily as meeting you at that café. It felt like a delivery, exactly what he’d been looking for, easy and naïve. He couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity.

While at the café, Wooyoung noticed your difficulty placing an order, clearly caused by the language barrier. He immediately offered to help, with the calculated politeness of a gentleman. He was patient with your broken language, with the mispronounced words, with the sentences that got tangled before you could finish them.

Whenever you felt embarrassed for not being able to communicate properly, he offered nothing more than an understanding smile, putting you at ease. Using his phone, Wooyoung calmly relied on a translator so the two of you could understand each other better, you him, and him you.

Between exchanged smiles and sweet looks, you found yourself charmed by Wooyoung. It was no surprise, a handsome, well-dressed, well-presented guy with an inviting smile, who stepped in to help you so kindly, acting like a true gentleman and treating you with such warmth and care, was the perfect formula for you to fall under his spell.

Wooyoung seemed interested in understanding how you had ended up there, especially since you were a foreigner. The comfortable, friendly atmosphere he created made it easy for you to keep talking while you waited for your orders.

As time passed at the café, you were already completely charmed. You sipped your coffee while sitting across from him in a booth, and as he talked about the art academy he was part of—and you talked about your job—you couldn’t help but notice his face, how handsome he was. The sharp features, the nose that made him even more attractive.

None of it went unnoticed by Wooyoung.

He felt no real interest in anything you were saying, fighting off his boredom just to stay focused on your words. Still, he forced himself to listen, he had to keep the mask on. What reassured him was realizing that the effort was, at the very least, paying off.

You were very naive. You opened up easily to a stranger, talked about your life, about what you were doing in his country, and made it clear that you were alone.

Wooyoung saw that as a feast.

There was no one who would miss you.

While for you it had been nothing more than a pleasant outing, spent in the company of a handsome, interesting man, for Wooyoung… it had been a hunt.

When you said goodbye, too shy to ask for his number, afraid of being mistaken for a pervert, Wooyoung held the front door open for you, keeping up the gentlemanly act.

Unaware of your surroundings, still dazed by the attention and flirtatious looks, you didn’t notice that, in the distance, Wooyoung was quietly following you.

From what he’d gathered from the conversation at the café, you were heading home. He carefully followed in your footsteps, blending in with the flow of people along the way, keeping just enough distance so you wouldn’t notice him.

After figuring out your address, Wooyoung started passing by the building where you lived frequently, at times he assumed you’d be leaving or coming back home, based on what you’d told him about your life at the café. Until the two of you ran into each other again.

You were surprised to see him, supposedly by chance, and couldn’t hide the look on your face when you spotted him. Wooyoung simply pretended to notice your intrigued glance, playing along with the idea of mutual surprise at seeing you again, as if it hadn’t all been calculated.

You started talking again, and before you realized it, it happened over and over until you and Wooyoung developed a kind of closeness. It was a friendship with a shared interest, the two of you flirted with each other, wrapped in mutual attraction.

After a few dates here and there, Wooyoung had already made you completely fall for him, trusting him enough to let him into your home, and to go to his as well.

There was nothing about Wooyoung that you noticed as being wrong. Maybe your lack of perspective, being involved with someone who lived for art, dulled your senses, you assumed things with him would naturally be different compared to other partners.

Wooyoung often talked about the art academy he was part of, about his pieces, his work as an artist, his versatility, his circle of peers. You even found yourself feeling jealous of his connection to the academy, it felt like a second relationship in his life, judging by the way he treated it.

Still, you were smitten. Easily drawn in by Wooyoung’s words, always falling for his talk, you only saw his charm instead of the potentially alarming flaws that should’ve made you walk away.

At some point, you began to notice that a few of your things had started to go missing. They weren’t important or valuable items, which is why it took you a while to realize it. It started with your favorite socks. Then your favorite scarf. Until you could no longer find your running shoes nor your favorite sleep shirt.

That’s when it struck you as strange to lose so many things without remembering ever leaving them anywhere out of the ordinary.

Wooyoung heard you mention what had been happening and complain about your belongings, brushing it all off with simple remarks like “you just don’t remember where you put them,” or “they’re probably forgotten at the back of your closet.” He also gifted you new items whenever he could, always in the same pastel tones as the ones that had gone missing, saying the colors suited you, which made you quickly forget about the whole thing.

Eventually, Wooyoung invited you to watch his next play. You had already shown interest in seeing his work, and he’d said he would take you once a new project started. Now was the time.

He suggested first that you attend a late-night rehearsal, which struck you as odd at first, since it was much later than you’d imagined. He took you to meet his coworkers at the academy, introducing you as his girlfriend. A strangely peculiar aura surrounded everyone who spoke to you there, as if something was off. Still, you couldn’t quite tell what it was or why.

Everyone was polite, welcoming toward you. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything seemed mechanical, almost disturbingly so. You couldn’t explain it, but one of them shook your hand and held eye contact while smiling wide, showing all his teeth, his eyes staying fixed on you, alert, barely matching the smile on his face.

Wooyoung took you to a café you didn’t know, near the art academy, and talked about you with his colleagues. He spoke about how you met, your shared interests, and what you did for a living. After you tried to blend in, Wooyoung’s colleagues began talking about the costumes for the play and the clothes they had been wearing lately.

“Pastel tones really suit you, Y/n.” one of them commented.

You hesitated for a moment before thanking him. You weren’t wearing any pastel colors at the time. You weren’t quite sure how to interpret the comment, whether it was meant as a compliment or a jab, since you were wearing vibrant colors, and it could have been a subtle attempt at shade.

Noticing your unease, he simply smiled broadly. Wooyoung caught your glance toward him, like a bird fallen from its nest, but he ignored it, pretending to be oblivious to the heavy atmosphere pressing down on you.

Nothing about that meeting felt comfortable, no conversation coming from his colleagues seemed to make sense. Nothing felt in place.

You felt strange and found yourself hoping you would head back home as soon as possible, especially since it was already very late at night.

Noticing your discomfort, Wooyoung slipped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer, nuzzling into your hair and pressing a soft kiss there.

“Are you feeling okay?” he whispered in your ear, and melting under his concern, you chose not to weigh the moment down with your own feelings. You nodded instead, making him smile sweetly at you.

Without asking, Wooyoung took the liberty of ordering something from the menu for you. A few minutes later, he noticed that the order meant for your table was ready at the counter and chose to get up and grab it himself instead of waiting for the waitress to bring it over.

You tried to follow him with your eyes, but one of the colleagues present grabbed you by the shoulders, forcing your attention back to her.

“It’s so sad that you have to stay away from your family because of work, Y/n,” she said dramatically, which made you uneasy. There was no apparent reason for her to comment on that with such emphasis.

“Y-yeah, but I’ve already gotten used to—”

“It surprises us that you and Wooyoung haven’t had sex even once yet, considering you’re kinda lonely,” she interrupted you, completely catching you off guard with her choice of words. Hearing something so intimate and personal spoken so casually by someone you had just met left you stunned.

“What did you just say?!” You furrowed your brows, shocked by what you had just heard, completely forgetting about Wooyoung, who was taking longer than he should have just to grab the tray and bring it back to the table.

You were stunned by the situation, how did she even know that detail about your life? Did that mean Wooyoung had talked about it with his friends?

The thought made you furious. It wasn’t something that should’ve been shared, it was something that concerned only the two of you. And why would he talk about it? You had agreed to take things slow. If he wasn’t satisfied, why not talk to you instead of his colleagues?

Your chest tingled with mixed feelings: hurt, confusion, anger, doubt. You didn’t know what to think about Wooyoung after hearing that. As inappropriate and out of line as it was for his fellow cast member to bring it up and embarrass you, there was no room to rule out the possibility that Wooyoung was the one who had opened that door.

She stared at you with a fake innocence, and you were about to ask what your private life had anything to do with her at all, when Wooyoung returned to the table, setting the tray down and sitting back beside you.

He picked up the frappuccino and held it out to you. You hesitated before taking the cup. Noticing how clearly upset you were, your jaw tightly clenched, he slid one of his arms back around your shoulders and asked what was wrong.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I think I should go home…” you replied, trying to pull away from his arm, but he insisted.

“Come on, relax. What’s the problem, didn’t you like what I ordered for you?” he shot back in a cynical tone, as if he had no idea what had just happened at the table, pretending to be clueless. “Go on, drink it. It’ll make you feel better. We’ll go home as soon as you finish it, and then we’ll talk properly, okay?”

You eventually gave in and finally took the cup he had been holding out to you, trying to drink it as quickly and neatly as possible so the two of you could go home, just like he said.

However, before you could even take the last sip, your vision blurred and your senses began to drift away from you. Everything started to spin, and the voices around you grew distant.

Panic set in as you realized your body was giving out, your head growing unbearably heavy.

You tried to cling to Wooyoung, to speak, but failed. Your voice came out strained and shrill, impossible to understand, there was no way anyone could tell you were asking for help. Your vocal cords wouldn’t obey, and your throat felt numb.

Wooyoung, in turn, only watched you calmly, while everyone else gradually stopped talking and shifted their attention entirely to you, like a show unfolding just for them.

With one last look at Wooyoung, he slowly spread a grin from ear to ear, a macabre smile, right before you blacked out completely.

∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴

When you woke up, pain throbbed dully behind your eyes. Your body tingled all over, pins and needles crawling beneath your skin, as if your blood were struggling to find its way back. Your vision swam, the darkness wavering and shifting as you blinked slowly, each movement of your eyelids heavy, exhausting.

The shapes around you took form little by little. Flickering light. Shadows that stretched and shrank. Candles. Dozens of them, their flames trembling, casting warped silhouettes along the walls. You didn’t recognize the place. It felt enclosed. Airless. Wrong.

Your senses returned unevenly, like they were snapping back into place one by one. The smell of melted wax hung thick in the air. The faint sound of your own breathing, shallow, unsteady, filled your ears. Somewhere deep inside, a part of you still felt distant, detached, as if your mind were hovering just behind your body, hesitant to fully return.

When you tried to move, you realized your movements were restricted. Your body didn’t respond the way it should have. Panic surged through you as your gaze snapped downward, heart stuttering violently when you saw it, your arms bound and stretched above your head, wrists secured so tightly they ached.

Your legs were restrained as well, each ankle fastened to opposite ends of the surface beneath you. You were completely immobilized, trapped, and fully naked. Your breath hitched. Terror washed over you in a sudden, overwhelming wave.

Your vision sharpened fully now, clear. The surface you were lying on felt cold against your back. You didn’t know how you had gotten there. You didn’t know why you were positioned like this.

Fear seeped into every cell of your body. Adrenaline flooded your system, making your chest feel too tight, too small to contain your racing heart. It slammed wildly against your ribs as panic took hold, your breath coming faster, thinner, as the weight of the situation settled in.

Around you, there was a dark room with only a few functional pieces of furniture, nothing decorative except for some macabre paintings of women, animals, and abstract figures. A fireplace stood nearby, adorned with bizarre ornaments. The candles lighting the room were fixed into wall-mounted candleholders.

Up ahead, you could hear voices. Because of the position you were in, you couldn’t lift your head to look, but the sounds drew closer until you could finally see Wooyoung and his colleagues surrounding you, each of them wearing a black hooded cloak that completely covered their bodies.

“So you woke up sooner than I expected, Y/n. I thought the drug would last a little longer,” Wooyoung said as he stepped closer, while the others remained standing in a circle around you. “Not that I’m complaining, though,” he added, smiling with mockery.

“It’s finally time. All that acting can stop now, every bit of time I invested reaches its end here,” you heard him say, and shock flooded through you all at once. Your eyes stayed locked on his face, unable to recognize the man before you, so completely different from the one you thought you knew.

When you shifted your gaze to the others, you noticed that each of them was holding something in their hands. The panic intensified when you realized what it was, your missing belongings. The socks, the scarf, your sneakers, and your shirt.

And then, you started putting the pieces together. Wooyoung hadn’t been kind to you when you met by chance, you had just been easy prey to him. He hadn’t been running into you accidentally, he’d been following you. Your things hadn’t gone missing, Wooyoung had taken them.

He hadn’t randomly decided to get up and grab the tray when a waitress would’ve brought it over, he needed to do that. He drugged your drink. And the woman who talked to you had only distracted you so you wouldn’t see him slipping something into your cup.

Everything had been calculated.

Your eyes filled with tears. You couldn’t believe how naïve you’d been, how completely Wooyoung had fooled you all this time.

“Y-you…” you tried to speak, but the whirlwind of thoughts trampled over your words. You didn’t even know what to say, you were utterly shaken by the shock.

“Please, sweetheart, don’t cry. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” Wooyoung said. His tone was soft and restrained, as if there were some trace of empathy in him.

“Wooyoung, it’s already 3 a.m. It has to start now.” one of the men present said.

Three in the morning? you wondered. You’d been unconscious for that long. Even though it had already been quite late when everyone went to the café, Wooyoung must have spiked your coffee with a heavy dose.

Wooyoung then undid the ties of his cloak and let the fabric slide off his body, revealing his nakedness. Your eyes widened.

“Wooyoung, let me out of here. Please, I won’t say anything, just let me go…” you begged, your voice breaking. Every cell in your body was on edge, your mind spiraling with fear, not knowing exactly what was coming, only certain it would be bad. You and he weren’t naked for no reason.

He moved closer, leaning over you, bracing one knee against the cold, hard surface beneath you, and reached for your face with calloused fingers. “I can’t let you go… you’ve already been offered, and now I have to see this through. We can’t turn back, it’s our dream. You understand, don’t you?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You frowned in confusion, your heart pounding wildly, unable to understand why any of this was happening. It wouldn’t have been surprising if Wooyoung and his friends were bad people, there were plenty of those everywhere, but this? What exactly was this, and for what purpose?

“Our play, love. We need it to be a success. We made a pact.” He traced his fingers along your face, a soft caress, letting the tips glide over your features as if it were something casual. “In exchange for our success and rise to worldwide fame, I offered you. I just needed someone naive enough to lure in, and you did perfectly. I’m so proud of you.”

You scoffed. How dare he say that as if he weren’t committing an unprecedented atrocity? It was completely absurd. You were sure he was insane.

You wished you’d never met him.

“You can’t be serious.” Your voice came out thin, weak, full of disbelief.

“Oh, I am, baby. And by the way, I’m sorry for taking your things, I needed them for the pact. They had to be the things you used the most.” You would’ve rolled your eyes if it weren’t for the tension.

“You’re fucking sick! All of you are!” you screamed so everyone could hear. Your tears streamed down in disgust, the man you had started to fall in love with was revealing himself as a complete pervert.

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s debatable. I mean, it’s a price to pay in exchange for overwhelming success in our careers, don’t you think? We’ll have everything. Don’t be sad, you play an important role in all of this.” Wooyoung gently stroked your face with care and tenderness, twisting the knife even deeper into your chest, because your body had grown used to that loving touch, one that now meant absolutely nothing.

“I didn’t ask for any of this! I shouldn’t be here, I want to go home!” you sobbed uncontrollably, a crushing pain pressing down on your chest, hitting your heart and flooding through your entire system. The impact of reality pierced you like bullets.

“Baby, don’t cry. I don’t want to do anything to you like this. Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you.” He leaned in until his face was pressed against yours, kissing along the path of your tears, letting his lips absorb the salty drops.

He ran one hand through your hair, and the gesture only made you cry even harder, leaving you feeling powerless.

“Wooyoung…” one of the others said, drawing his attention back to him.

“I know, I know. Give me a minute, I can’t do it like that,” he snapped, impatient.

He sighed, shaking thoughts out of his head, thoughts you didn’t know, and leaned back in toward you, pressing his lips to yours this time. He moved gently, pulling his hand away from your hair and cupping your face instead, asking for entry with his tongue.

It wasn’t hard to let him in. You ended up relaxing under Wooyoung’s touch, letting him deepen the kiss. It started slow and soft, his tongue moving with yours in a calm, unhurried rhythm.

When Wooyoung felt the tension in your body ease significantly, he increased the intensity of the kiss, still keeping it slow. The hand that had been caressing your face slid down to your neck, his thumb tracing slow circles over the spot between your jaw and your ear.

Soon, his hands moved down to your waist, fingers brushing over your skin and sending shivers through you. You tried to curl in on yourself, but with your body restrained, it was impossible.

Wooyoung then covered you with his body, letting his warmth envelop you and seep into your pores, coaxing you to relax even more.

He gradually picked up the pace of the kiss, growing more hungry.

Deep down, he wanted everyone else to leave the room and give you two some privacy, it would be easier that way, and he’d feel less guilty, less self-conscious about the act. But unfortunately for both him and you, that wasn’t possible. It was essential that everyone be present for the consummation of the pact.

All he could do was try to make you forget the others were even there.

He let the tips of his fingers trace along your curves as you shivered, and he found himself captivated by how docile you were. Your nature, despite everything, was submissive, and instinctively, you tried to be good.

He broke the kiss into soft pecks, brushing his lips up to your temple. “You’re doing so well, sweety. Just keep it up.” You looked at him with heaviness in your eyes, and he brought one hand up, cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your soft skin. “Be good for me, okay?”

You nodded, and he lowered his lips to your neck, kissing the sensitive skin and sending another wave of shivers through your spine. Your pores prickled with every practiced kiss Wooyoung pressed into your neck, his tongue warming the spot.

A sigh slipped from your mouth when he trailed those hot kisses up to your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth and nibbling on it. He brushed it with his tongue, making you melt beneath his arms, giving him better access as you tilted your head slightly to the side.

After a few more kisses along your neck, you felt more relaxed, your face dried of tears. You let your mind focus solely on Wooyoung as he held your chin, turning your face to look at him again.

“You’re so beautiful, babe.” he caught your lower lip, nibbling it gently. “So beautiful.” His hand slid down until it reached your breast, cupping it softly, his palm covering it completely as your nipple hardened beneath his touch.

He kissed you again, hungrier and more intense than before, squeezing your breast a little tighter while his other hand gripped your hip firmly. You could feel him pressed against your belly, hard and solid like stone, its tip leaking slightly onto your body, sticky.

“Can you feel it, babe? This is what you do to me.” He gently bit your neck, lazily dragging his lips to your shoulder, biting the entire length until he slid down to your chest.

You didn't want to like it, you didn't want to feel good, but you couldn't control it, your body reacted and showed how it was being affected by the caresses.

He kissed the area, sliding the tip of his nose along your soft, perfumed skin, his kisses descending to the valley between your breasts. He leaned more over your body, careful not to put his full weight on you, and with his elbows resting on the surface, he held both your breasts and massaged them.

His eyes were completely focused and eyes fixed on your tits, watching how beautifully they moved, swayed, and the thin, sensitive skin bristled, your nipples hardening, making his dick throb.

He massaged them, applying more pressure, eliciting a heavy sigh from your mouth, which you controlled to avoid making any more sounds.

You wanted to hold back, but your body betrayed you whenever Wooyoung did something, your pores bristled and your mind wouldn't reason, simply turning into a useless puddle unable to stay sane.

Tempted to draw more noises from you, he circled one of your nipples with his tongue, circling the tip and wetting it, letting his saliva envelop the sensitive button. You bit your lower lip, trying to suppress a moan when Wooyoung closed his lips against your nipple, taking it into his mouth.

“Nah, stop that. Let me hear your pretty noises.” He said and went back to capturing your tit with his mouth, holding your nipple between his teeth, nibbling it carefully, applying just enough pressure to send stimuli throughout your body, provoking a warm sensation in your core, finally hearing you release a low, breathless moan.

He hummed gladly, sending vibrations through your body, and another soft moan escaped your lips as he sucked on your nipple, using his tongue to brush on it. One of his hands played with your other breast, paying attention to your chest without missing a single detail.

You knit your eyebrows, your lips parted, and your cheek flushed. Your body emanated heat everywhere, you felt slick dripping from your throbbing cunt, completely soaked with Wooyoung's stimulation.

Deep down, a part of you felt a quiet flush of shame for how easily your body responded, for how little it took to make you feel warm and pliant. And yet, Wooyoung treated you with such care, drawing things out, making every touch deliberate, every pause heavy, until the foreplay became something soothing, almost intoxicating, slow enough to make you forget yourself.

Your body stopped resisting altogether. You let the moment carry you, sinking into the feel of his hands, the warmth of him, melting completely beneath his touch.

He moved the caresses to your other breast, now his hand played with your recently wet and sticky tit, his fingers flipping over your stiff nipple, alternating between pinching it between his fingers and circling it with his thumb.

You kept your eyes closed, sighs and whimpers escaping your lips, your hands clenched into fists, and Wooyoung began to subtly grind against your hips, rubbing his shaft and spreading the precum on your skin.

He left your tits, moving back up to kiss you. His mouth traced yours vigorously, kissing you hard. The kiss became messy, sloppy, Wooyoung devouring you.

His hand squeezed your tit with desire, swallowing a whine from you, before moving it to the middle of your legs, sliding his fingers between your slit, feeling the heat of your core and your wetness.

"You're soaked, babe." He bit your earlobe, sending small shocks through your body. You moaned louder when he pressed his fingers against your clit, circling it and wetting it with your own slick.

The entire environment and everyone present in it vanished from your mind, not even entering your field of vision. Your eyes focused entirely on Wooyoung, who made you feel as if it were just the two of you in the back of the art academy, which was where you were without your knowing.

Spreading hot, wet kisses along your neck, letting his teeth graze against your throat, he slipped a finger inside your pussy, feeling the softness of its walls clench around him.

“Woonie…” you whimpered.

“I know, babe, I know.” He kissed your cheek, tracing more kisses down your face, subtly biting your chin, letting his teeth brush against your skin just to make you shiver again.

He withdrew his finger from inside you, adjusting himself on the surface and positioning himself properly. With one hand, he stroked his cock and positioned his shaft at your entrance.

Before pushing in, he looked at you, caressing your cheek with his calloused fingers, and returned his attention to your cunt.

“What a beautiful little pussy you have, love.” He slid inside slowly, making you close your eyes tightly, moaning loudly and drawn out. He was careful not to hurt you and let your walls adjust to his intrusion.

When his entire length was inside, he leaned over you, kissing your forehead, your nose, and moving down to your mouth, giving wet kisses.

You stared at him with glossy eyes, he touched your foreheads together and began to move, taking a measured rhythm. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

You felt full in more ways than one; of sensation, of confusion, of something dangerously close to comfort. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, responding on instinct alone, clinging to the only thing it knew in that moment.

A soft sound slipped from your lips before you could stop it, and you hated yourself for how natural it felt to melt into him, to let yourself be guided, lulled by his voice and the steady rhythm that pulled you under.

He lifted his body, holding your waist and increasing the pace of his thrusts in an ever-growing way. He grunted at how good you felt around him, gripping your flesh with longing and desire, his skin burning hot against yours as you moaned incessantly, unable to form any thought.

“Doing so well for me, you’re my good girl, aren’t you, love? Yeah, you are.” He cooed in a hoarse voice, lost in the pleasure of your bodies together, making vulgar, wet sounds.

Wooyoung pushed your knees apart, making you spread your legs as wide as possible due to the restraints, and began to fuck you harder and more deep. The impact of his hips against yours caused a wave of electricity to course through your entire body, making you lose yourself in pleasure and moan Wooyoung’s name.

He admired how your tits swayed with each thrust, giving in to the desire to lean down again and catching one of them with his lips, keeping the thrusts against your throbbing pussy, fucking you dumb.

He stood up again, bringing a hand to your pussy, playing with your clit and watching how you writhed beneath him. He made circular movements, applying a pleasurable and electrifying pressure, increasing your moans.

He saw how your body tensed, you started to get breathless. You were close and he didn't stop the rhythm of his fingers on your clit, bringing you to the climax.

You came beautifully, whimpering and sobbing, squeezing Wooyoung's cock with strong clenches, jerking him and giving him a unique and delicious feeling of pleasure while he fucked your pussy and now sought his own release, which was also close.

“I’m going to fill that pretty little pussy with my cum, baby. I’m going to make you leak with my milk.” Wooyoung’s thrusts were erratic, in a disjointed and sloppy rhythm.

The feeling of your pussy, which had just orgasmed, around Wooyoung’s throbbing cock caused a distinct tightness, until his climax hit him and he came inside you, not stopping until the last drop came out.

He slowly withdrew his dick from inside your cunt, watching his seed spill out. Wooyoung quickly brought his fingers to your hole, keeping his cum inside you, preventing it from go to waste.

He leaned over you, pressing his forehead against yours. A thin layer of sweat covered both of your bodies as your breathing slowly evened out.

“You felt so good, my love,” he said in a low voice, catching his breath.

As if those words pulled you back up to the surface, you quickly snapped back to awareness and remembered the purpose of all of it.

“Wooyoung,” you said cautiously, your doe eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. “What’s going to happen?”

“Don’t worry, it’s done.” He placed one last kiss on your forehead, carefully lifting himself off you and tossing the cloak he had taken off over your naked body, covering you. “You did well.”

“What do you mean? Please let me go, you’re scaring me, I—”

He silenced you, pressing a finger to your lips, brushing your hair back.

“I told you.” He untied the ropes that held you to the surface as the others around you stepped away, leaving the room. “It’s already done, babe.”

Wooyoung hesitated for a brief moment before stepping away, grabbing an old cloth that lay on a worn chair and wrapping it around his waist.

He looked at you as you stood up, covering yourself with the cloak, a thousand questions hovering in your mind, but no words to form any of them.

The room felt different now, quieter, heavier. The candles flickered unevenly, their flames stretching and shrinking. You stood there, wrapped in the cloak, its fabric unfamiliar against your skin.

“It’s late. Cover yourself, and I’ll take you home.” Wooyoung said. Despite sounding careful, his voice now felt distant.

You didn’t object, you were in a vulnerable, frightening position. Still, you had no idea what you would do next. What you were supposed to feel about all of this, or what you were supposed to do about Wooyoung.

Something inside you felt off, subtly misaligned, as though a part of you had been left behind. Your heartbeat sounded too loud in your ears, not frantic, just wrong, slow and deliberate, like it was no longer entirely yours.

And now, even without the shackles, you still felt trapped.

∴❧.·:¨¨:·.♡.·:¨¨:·. ☙.·:¨ ¨:·.-`♡´-.·:¨ ¨:·. ❧.·:¨ ¨:·.♡.·:¨ ¨:·.❧∴

a.n: yeah this was kinda based on rosemarys baby ;p

[mimipoke]

Welcome to my blog

.¸¸.•¨¨:·. ☙.꩜ About me:

she/her, '99, multi but ateez focused

i used to run tumblr when i was in early highscool but now i feel so newbie T-T

anyways, i lovelovelovelovelove dark themed stuff, i have some drafts where i write down some twisted ideas, but always ended up posting them on AO3 with some anime characters, cuz yk... but now i decided to write a little more about my favs and post here too.

i love kpop in general, ggs and bgs, but my ult groups are:

Ateez (Hongjoong and Mingi biased)

Seventeen (Mingyu biased)

Nct 127, although im very into nct u these days (mark, jaehyun and johnny biased)

NJZ ohhhh pls comeback T-T

i also love animes;) maybe i’ll do a master list when i post enough but for now im just going to introduce myself. Feel free to send any dms or suggestions <3

[mimipoke]

VERMILION - C. SAN

Prologue.

☙.꩜ 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; MURDERS; blood; extreme violence; traumas; angst; psychopathy; San has mommy issues and a distorted idea of ​​love; San is cold, selfish, self-centered, and toxic; this is not a romanticized relationship; evental smut (with foreplay, oral, piv, etc); representation of sexism and misogyny; dismemberment and some gore things; it may be sensitive for some audiences; you have been warned

THIS IS ONLY FICTIONAL AND DO NOT REPRESENT WHAT ANYBODY MENTIONED ARE IN REAL LIFE NOR HOW DO I PICTURE THEM!

☙.꩜ VERMILION MASTERLIST

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Little San entered the kitchen yawning lazily, rubbing his still swollen and crusty eyes.

He had a furrowed brow and a pout on his lips early in the morning. He heard the familiar sizzling sound of hot oil frying something he didn't know what was.

She blocked his view of the stove, her back to him.

"Good morning, Sannie! Why don't you sit down for breakfast?"

San didn't answer and didn't sit down. He just walked slowly, circling the table, but the more he circled the woman's figure in front of him, the more she seemed to remain in the same position: exactly with her back to him, while she cooked.

He couldn't catch a glimpse of her face.

Always the same scene, always the same things. He always repeated the same images.

A noise reached his ears, making him instinctively look to where it came from. His father was sitting at the table, a bottle in one hand and a newspaper in the other. He was already drinking.

The man looked at San with a grumpy face, he wasn't in his best mood. It had always been like that, as far as San could remember.

He looked back at the woman at the stove, but she never finished cooking. Like an emote.

He tried to approach. With slow steps, he got close enough to almost touch her apron, but felt his body freeze. Even if he wanted to go on, he couldn't. He was paralyzed.

Then, she stopped cooking and, still with her back to him, stiffened her body, tensing her muscles nervously.

"Sannie... sit down. Please." She spoke in a firmer voice.

He finally sat down. He couldn't understand, his conscious mind was asleep, his subconscious was only torturing him. He couldn't act as he wanted.

Finally, the woman turned around, but San couldn't see her face. No matter how much he looked up, his eyes couldn't reach her. He felt anguished. On the plate set on the table, she placed the eggs and bacon, encouraging San to eat. His father roughly took a portion for himself with a fork, without bothering to take his eyes off the newspaper. He continued to drink.

The woman brought a glass of juice for San, pushing it closer to his plate. The kid continued to try to understand why he couldn't see more of the woman, why she seemed so distant even though she was so close.

This bothered him, he wanted to speak, but hesitated to open his mouth and couldn't control his urges. Thus, he dropped the glass of juice by accident, spilling the liquid on the table and the floor. The juice hit his father, who easily became irritated, throwing the glass to the floor, making the woman tremble.

"Damn it, boy! Don't you pay attention to what you're doing?" He roared, not caring about the shards of glass scattered around the kitchen’s floor. The woman hurried to clean up the mess, but as she approached her husband, he aggressively pulled her arm. “Can’t you teach nothing to your son? Always messing things up!” His hand struck the woman’s face with a slap.

San’s mother stirred and pushed the man away. Now all San could hear were screams. But even though the sound bothered his ears, he couldn’t understand the words. He watched the scene petrified, his parents fighting, shouting words at each other, his father throwing his mother to the ground while shards of glass superficially pierced her skin.

Then, in the blink of an eye, she disappeared.

She disappeared and everything went silent.

He turned to his father, intrigued.

“This… this is all your fault.” The man said in a hoarse, choked voice. San felt a sharp chill in his stomach as his father rushed towards him, furious. “It’s all your fault!”

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With erratic breathing, San woke up. It was that dream again. Nightmare, rather.

He hated these nights…

For a while, it had become frequent, and he had it almost every day. Then, it was occasional. But still, he hated this nightmare more than any other.

Because of her.

San's mother left the house, leaving him alone with his father many years ago, when San was still too young to remember things properly.

She became a faint memory in San's mind, turning into a void within him that left him anguished whenever he was reminded, in some way, of that maternal absence.

His father didn't keep photos of her, he couldn't cope with the loss. So he took it all out on alcohol. San always saw him drinking, no matter the time of day. The man's face was marked by neglect and constant drunkenness.

He wasn't a saint, but he missed her. And being left with her child, being reminded every day of the woman he should have loved and protected, drove him crazy; he couldn't bear the consequences of his own actions.

San, then, from a very young age, had to live with an alcoholic and emotionally absent father. Besides being aggressive. When the alcohol corroded his neurons, he sometimes tormented young San with harsh words, full of hate and resentment.

So it was common for San to spend most of his time away from home or locked in his room.

But, amidst all the turmoil in his life, there was one person who always warmed his heart.

You.

You were too young to understand, though. You have been friends since childhood, you studied together at the same school. And you never quite understood what was going on in San's life; after all, you didn't know any abusive homes and what it was like.

Your family was good. It had problems, like any other. But it was good.

And, besides, a child wouldn't be able to understand the signs San showed from a very young age.

For you, all that mattered was that San was nice to you and that you played together. And for San, all that mattered was that you didn't fight with him. You didn't judge him, you didn't hate him. You didn’t fight. You didn't expect anything from him. You didn't leave.

And it was like that, until you were thirteen.

One day, San simply didn't show up at class. You were worried, because he had never missed a day at school since you’ve known him. You wished to go to his house to see if everything was alright, but he never let you know where he lived, always avoiding the question.

He said it wasn't a nice place. So you shouldn't see it.

You thought about calling, just to make sure he only caught the flu and couldn't go to school.

But when you got home, no one answered the other end of the line. You tried again and again, with no answer.

The problem was that it was common for San not to answer the phone. He said his father didn't like phone calls, and that if he didn't pick up, you shouldn't be upset.

So, you simply ignored him and decided to ask tomorrow, when he would show up.

But again, he didn't. And again, he didn't answer your calls. For days.

You felt hurt; was he ignoring you?

You wanted to believe not, that maybe he had gotten very sick and needed to go to the hospital, having no time to let you know.

But then why didn't he call from the hospital?

Until, a few more days later, your parents waited for you to return from school, tensely sitting on the couch, unsure about how to talk to you.

Upon entering the living room, you noticed the heavy dense atmosphere, your mother's worried face.

"Honey," your father started with a restrained voice. "We need to talk to you about your friend San."

That was when you felt a pang in your heart, even without knowing what would come next. With all those elements, it certainly wasn't something good, and you didn't know if you could bear to hear whatever it was, because now all the resentment you felt for all those days without news of him had immediately turned into anguish and anticipatory sadness.

You sat facing your father, who was exchanging glances with your mother, who seemed to be asking him something with her eyes.

He was direct.

“Honey, your friend San, he… I mean, the police had to take San away from here.”

“What?!” You couldn't believe what you had just heard. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

“Dear, it seems San had some problems at home and the state security service took him into custody. We heard this from Mrs. Patt. But nobody knows for sure what happened. Only that…” your father took a deep breath; those were difficult words to say to a thirteen yo girl, he thought. “San’s father was found dead inside the house. San was taken to a safe place where he will stay for a while.”

You felt the ground open up beneath your feet. You couldn’t believe it, how could you harbor resentment towards your best friend when something so terrible had happened?

Your mind was soon flooded with questions you couldn’t even formulate. How was San? What would happen now? How would he live? Was he injured? How long would he be away? Couldn’t he stay at your house? Why was even his father dead?!

Tears involuntarily streamed down your face; your father was restless, seemingly troubled by something, but your mother silently held him back.

Mrs. Patt, known in the neighborhood, knew San’s family and knew that his father was somewhat problematic. Always drinking and tormenting young San. Sometimes, San would show up at the school sickbay with bruises. He claimed he got hurt while playing sports, hiding the fact that the real reason was the abuse from his alcoholic father.

She felt sorry for him. Poor little San, abandoned by his mother, neglected and mistreated by his father. San seemed to be just another rebellious teenager, the product of an unstable home. Typical.

But even Mrs. Patt didn't know what really happened the day San's father was found dead.

It was supposed to be just another ordinary day. Young San wanted to buy ramen and beer, but the only money that was there was from his father's wallet, asleep in the old armchair in the living room.

It wasn't the first time he'd done this. He'd taken money secretly before, he would spend it on beers, game machines, some other shenanigans, so he never noticed when it was missing. He just blamed it on the alcohol.

But this time, the man woke from his deep alcoholic sleep while San had his hand in his wallet, the money being trapped by his fingers.

That's when his fury erupted.

San was used to being beaten, it wasn't anything new. But, exceptionally on that day, his father seemed much more motivated to assault him. It was the money for his booze, the only thing that gave him pleasure.

For as long as San could remember, his father had always been an alcoholic. He knew his mother couldn't bear the abuse at home and the shattered dreams that turned into living nightmares, thanks to his father. She couldn't stay for San, she simply left without looking back. He knew it. But even so, he hated being left behind with nothing but a drunken old man who constantly abused him.

He hated not having been protected. He hated living a life he didn't ask for. He hated the thought of people seeing him as miserable. He hated his father for being a drunk old fart.

He hated when his father couldn't look at him because he remembered the woman who gave him life. He hated when he would blame San for it. When he would say San was a burden.

So, San fought back. He'd gotten into trouble a few times, he'd faced bigger boys, so he felt confident enough to confront his father. He was tired.

He punched the man hard in the face, who took a few steps back from the impact and the alcohol still running through his systems.

“What is this, you think you’re a man? Think you have balls, kid?” He spat.

His aggressive sickly nature, aggravated by years of alcoholism, was heightened, and at some point, the man grabbed a knife and lunged at San, knocking him to the ground.

“You miserable wretch, you should never have been born!” His father fought him, San tried to knock him down. “You and that motherfucking whore should be rotting in hell!”

The man's last words were like a red flag to a bull when they reached San's ears. In a swift, rage fueled act, San switched positions, taking the knife from his father's hand, while red splatters painted his face and his surroundings.

He didn't count how many times he struck, but it was enough to wash the living room floor with blood. The man was already lifeless when San finally stopped plunging the knife into his still warm body.

He dropped the knife and stood up. San looked at his father, who lay sprawled on the floor, his fluids oozing from the open wounds. He felt indifferent. If anything, relieved.

Not long after, a local patrol car drove down the deserted street, a little distant from the other houses in the neighborhood. The policeman spotted young San sitting on a rock, his clothes and face stained with blood. They immediately stopped and got out of the car, to check on him.

San told them nothing while being questioned. Initially, the police officers were concerned about the boy, but his lack of reaction, seeming emotionless and nonchalant, made the men frown.

It was strange. Suspicious, but needing to follow protocol, they called in specialized agents to go to the scene.

Finally, San was taken to a social services facility, but to the professionals' surprise, San was clearly the culprit. The police officers' account also corroborated that conclusion.

He was the one who stabbed his own father to death.

Since he was still only thirteen years old, San was taken to a juvenile detention center. He was sentenced to several years of rehabilitation due to his background of abuse within a dysfunctional family.

Because he was a minor, the State kept the case under protection in order to rehabilitate San after his detention period. Therefore, the only ones who knew what really happened were the local authorities.

Mrs. Patt only learned that the authorities had taken San and he wouldn't be back for a while, after all, the police wouldn't give explanations to a nosy old woman. They were vague with their information when Patt asked about the tape surrounding their house.

They didn't say what they knew, only that San was in a safe place for now.

And that's what she told your parents, that, at that moment, were trying to calm your cries. Your mother felt terrible seeing you like that.

Your father felt bad about delivering such harsh news to someone as young as you, but he preferred to feel relieved that a rebel boy with such a bad family like San was now far away from you. He wanted you to feel relieved about that too, instead of crying.

But, meanwhile, on the other side of the state, San was dealing with a flawed system that imprisoned him in his own mind. Instead of rehabilitating him, it only brought out his most deranged nature.

Before his detention, San was a troubled young boy who used to get bad grades, got into trouble with other boys, stole money to buy beer, threw stones at little birds…

After taking his father's life, a snap in San's mind caused another version of himself to awaken. A worse one. A San that the detention center wouldn't be able to contain for long. Perhaps it would show him who he really was.

It wasn't exactly what could be called rehabilitation. Besides everything else, the environment itself reminded him of the kitchen walls of his old house. The tiles and linoleum made him feel dizzy sometimes.

During his years of confinement, carefully observing how the people around him behaved, how the psychiatrists and guards seemed to play cat and mouse with those boys, San learned that his motives and his honesty mattered little. People didn't care about that; they were too selfish.

San couldn't say he felt good plunging the knife deep into his father's chest, he couldn't say the blood that stained his face and hands didn't bother him, he couldn't say he didn't miss his father when asked. It wasn't what they wanted to hear.

What they really wanted was a boy who danced to their tune, who possessed the same concept of integrity and moral values ​​as the psychiatrists and the State. San didn't think he should, but he learned it was the easiest path and, along with it, developed better relationships with people there. It was beneficial for him in a certain way, after all, now he could mask way better what people couldn't understand.

By the end of his time in the detention center, San had become so good at manipulation that he managed to convince the psychiatrists that he felt remorse. That he was ready to live freely in society, that it was all just a tragedy fabricated by the miserable environment San lived in.

Perhaps San really was a product of a life marked by burdens that a child should never have to deal with. But in the eyes of the psychiatrists, much more than that, he seemed like any other person, who showed signs of humanity and empathy, traits of altruism that a psychopath could not endure, ruling out the diagnosis.

He then received a reduction in his sentence, the day of his freedom drew closer, and soon he would be free to restart his life without assistance from the authorities.

And of course, he didn't stop thinking about you for a single day. He wanted to write to you, but he wasn't allowed to, and everything he did in there was monitored. At the same time, he wondered why you didn't write to him instead. 

He just didn’t know it wasn't your fault, your parents never sent the letters you wrote for him. And also, over time, realizing you weren't getting any reply, you stopped writing.

He was excited about his release day, thinking about how to get closer to you again.

What could you possibly be doing now?

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