#dark!suho

“I didn’t realize how late it got,” you said, already reaching for your bag. “I should head out.” You moved to step past him, but Suho blocked your path with his pool stick, the sharp crack of it hitting the table making you flinch. Your pulse jumped. His voice came next, smooth and eerily measured, like he enjoyed the sound of each word too much. “Do you know Sieun likes you?”

A sharp inhale. “Wait—what?” you asked, your voice barely above a murmur. Suho tilted his head, his expression unreadable in the half-light. “Wait. Are you really so stupid you can’t see how much he likes you?” Each word sank in slow and deep. Goosebumps chased down your arms. “Of course I didn’t know!” you snapped, anger flaring. “And why are you calling me stupid?”

Suho’s smile was tight. He always remembered your favorite drinks. He asked about your day even when you forgot his. He showed up when your heart was breaking over someone else.’ His voice didn’t crack. It didn’t even waver. Each sentence more like a judgment than a memory. Just facts delivered in a tone so smooth it scraped. Resentment didn’t need volume. It was there in the silences, in the way he never looked at you when he spoke. 

You swallowed hard. “That’s… what friends are supposed to do, Suho.” He took a step closer. The space between you felt charged, dangerous. “You should ask him out,” he said, soft but firm. Your stomach twisted. “I don’t like Sieun like that.” Suho’s gaze hardened. “If you know what’s good for you, you should.”

A chill ran down your spine. What the hell? You grabbed the pool stick, shoving it aside with more force than necessary. “I don’t like being threatened,” you hissed. “And for the sake of this friendship, I’m going to forget this ever happened.” You didn’t wait for a response. You walked out, the echo of your footsteps too loud in the empty hall. But as the door swung shut behind you, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Suho wasn’t done.

You didn’t realize you were standing frozen in the middle of the hallway until Sieun’s hand waved in front of your face. “You good?” he asked, his brow furrowing. You opened your mouth to answer but then you felt it. Arms sliding around your shoulders from behind, pulling you back against a solid chest. Your body locked up, breath catching. Suho. “Hey,” his voice was smooth, too close to your ear. “I haven’t seen you in a while.” You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze. His smile was easy, pleasant but his eyes were dark, unreadable. Like he was waiting for something. Like he knew you’d been avoiding him.

You forced a laugh, brittle. “Oh, sorry. Just been busy with school stuff.” Sieun opened his mouth to speak, but Suho cut in, his tone light, almost playful. “Huh. That’s weird.” He tilted his head, feigning thought. “I can’t remember us having any projects or exams lately.” A beat of silence. Your pulse thudded in your throat. “I—I meant, like, after school lessons and stuff,” you stammered. “Oh.” Suho’s fingers flexed against your shoulders, his thumbs pressing in just a little too hard as he massaged the tension there. “That makes sense.”

Sieun’s eyes flicked between you, his expression unreadable. He didn’t say anything, but the way he watched you like he was noticing something off but couldn’t place it. It made your skin prickle. You let out a nervous laugh. “Okay, let’s head to class.” You shrugged Suho’s hands off, stepping forward a little too quickly, putting space between you. Behind you, you heard him sigh long, exaggerated, like he was amused. Like this was all some game. The walk to class was silent. But the moment you sat down, you felt it again the weight of eyes on you. Heavy. Unblinking.

You turned. Suho was already staring. Your breath hitched. His expression was blank, but his gaze sharp, calculating locked onto yours like a predator watching prey. A slow, knowing smirk curled at the corner of his mouth. You whipped your head back around, heart hammering. You hadn’t realized until now just how scary he could be.

Suho’s eyes didn’t stay on you for the whole class and against all logic calmed your nerves. Maybe you’d overreacted. Maybe he was just being a good friend to Sieun, looking out for him. The thought settled in your chest like a weight lifting. See? Nothing to worry about. “Okay, that’s all for today. See you all Monday,” Mrs. Jung said, already halfway out the door.

You slumped in your seat, exhaling. All you wanted was to go home, bury yourself under blankets, and forget the last few days ever happened. But fate had other plans. A tap on your shoulder made you jump. Sieun stood there, grinning sheepishly. “Oh, you’re stuck here too?” You smiled back, relief flickering until movement behind him caught your eye.

Suho. He strode in, broom in one hand, mop in the other, his usual easygoing smirk in place. “Looks like we’re all stuck here,” he said, tossing the broom to you with a lazy flick of his wrist. You caught it on instinct, your fingers tightening around the handle. Suho turned to Sieun. “Let’s move the tables out of the way.” No lingering stares. No loaded comments. Just… normal. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Maybe things really are okay.

Cleaning duty turned into something almost fun. Sieun started it dunking a chalk-stained eraser into the water bucket and flicking droplets at you. You gasped, feigning outrage, before retaliating with a swipe of your dust rag. Suho laughed, as he shoved a desk aside with exaggerated effort.

“You two are terrible at this.” “Says the guy who’s just pushing chairs around,” you shot back, grinning. He clutched his chest in mock offense. “I’m creating space. It’s essential labor.” Sieun snorted, tossing a wadded-up paper ball at him. Suho dodged, but not fast enough, it bounced off his shoulder. For a moment, it was easy. Just three friends goofing off, the tension from before dissolving like chalk in water. You let yourself relax.

The laughter died down as you finished up. Sieun wiped the last chalkboard clean while you stacked chairs, humming under your breath. You saw movement at the edge of your vision. Suho was watching you again. Your breath hitched. He didn’t look away. Just tilted his head, slow, considering, like he was memorizing the way your fingers gripped the chair legs.

A beat too long passed before Sieun’s voice cut through the silence. “Done!” He clapped his hands together, oblivious. “Let’s get out of here.” Suho blinked and just like that, the moment shattered. You brushed it off, pretending it was just your imagination. He slung an arm around Sieun’s shoulders, grinning. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

Sieun's question should have been innocent. Just another after-school hangout, nothing unusual. "Hey, you guys wanna stop by my place before you head home? My dad's not home." Suho didn't hesitate. "Oh, let's go!" His grin stretched too wide, his teeth just a little too bright under the fluorescent street lights. Eager. Like he'd been waiting for the invitation.

Like he already knew the answer. You swallowed hard, forcing a smile. Just an hour, you told yourself. Then you'll leave. "Nice!" Suho yelled, loud enough that a few strangers on the street turned to stare. Sieun laughed, shaking his head, and you let out a breathless chuckle.

The walk to Sieun’s apartment was too short. The elevator ride up, too quiet. The only sound was the mechanical hum of the lift. You watched the numbers climb on the display *3... 4... 5* your reflection warped in the metal doors. Behind you, Suho leaned against the railing, smiling at you. Sieun unlocked the door, stepping aside to let you both in. The apartment was dim, the curtains half-drawn, slicing the afternoon light into narrow, dusty stripes. You moved toward the couch, your shoes sinking into the floorboard, already calculating how quickly you could leave without seeming rude.

"Ready?" Sieun's voice, low, from behind you. Suho hummed in response. A soft, satisfied sound. Your stomach dropped. Ready for what? You started to turn then a hand clamped over your mouth. Roughly, the palm was warm, the fingers splayed just so the thumb was pressing into the hinge of your jaw, fingers curling behind your ear, holding you in place like you were something fragile. Something to be handled carefully. The cloth came next, pressed against your nose and lips. Damp. Sweet-smelling, like artificial cherries, like children’s cough syrup.

Your lungs burned as you sucked in a startled breath—No!?. You thrashed, elbows jabbing backward, nails scraping at the arm locked around your ribs. But whoever held you—Suho? Sieun?—was stronger than they looked. Their grip tightened, crushing you against their chest like a lover’s embrace. You could feel their heartbeat through your back steady, unhurried. "Shhh," a voice murmured in your ear. Lips brushed the shell of it, the word curling into you like smoke. "Just sleep."

Your vision tunneled. The room tilted. The last thing you saw was the ceiling fan above the couch, its blades turning lazily, casting wobbling shadows over the walls. Somewhere, distantly, you heard laughter. Like this was all a game. Then the darkness swallowed you whole.

Your ears were ringing when your eyes first fluttered open. A dull, static hum filled your skull, your thoughts slow and syrupy. Where am I? The room came into focus in pieces, the white wall, the too-bright overhead light and the scent of lemon disinfectant. And then your eyes found Suho. He sat across from you in a wooden chair, elbows resting on his knees, chin propped in his hands. Watching. A smile curled at the edges of his mouth when he saw your eyes focus. "Suho?" Your voice cracked. "What's going on?" 

“You should’ve done what I told you.” His voice was calm. Like he was talking about something mundane. But beneath that softness was something sharp, waiting to cut. "Do what?" Your mind was still fogged, your tongue thick in your mouth. He didn’t answer right away. Just tilted his head, studying you the way someone might examine a butterfly pinned under glass. "I wasn’t honest with you last time we were alone," he said finally. That caught your attention. "Sieun isn’t the only one who likes you." A pause. "I do too." Your stomach lurched.

"We were trying to figure out our dilemma," he continued, tapping his temple in mock thought. "And then we went—oh!" His eyes lit up, like he'd just remembered something delightful. "We could share you." A cold sweat prickled down your spine. "But you being so dumb couldn’t notice the way we changed acting towards you." He leaned forward, elbows pressing into his knees, close enough now that you could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. Close enough that you could smell the mint gum on his breath.

"Suho, whatever you're thinking—let’s not," you begged, your voice thin. "Please." A hum from beside you. Your head snapped to the side and there was Sieun, sitting so close his thigh pressed against yours. You hadn’t even noticed him. His hand settled on your leg, fingers rubbing slow, soothing circles into your jeans. Trying to ease your nerves. It wasn’t working. "Fuck this," you hissed, lurching to your feet. "I’m leaving."

Suho moved faster than you expected. One second, he was in the chair the next, he was blocking your path, his body crowding yours. "Nah, babe," he murmured. "Sit back down."

"No, Suho, I’m leaving—"

"You don’t like to listen, do you?"

His hands tangled in your hair yanking you. You screamed, the pain sharp and sudden, your scalp burning as he shoved you backward. You crashed onto the couch, landing half in Sieun’s lap. His arms wrapped around you instantly, pulling you tight against his chest. "Shhh, it’s okay," Sieun whispered into your hair. "It’s okay." He glared at Suho over your head. "I thought we were going to play nice. So she could be comfortable." Suho rolled his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck like he was the one who’d been wronged. "Well, she doesn’t like to listen."

"I’m sorry," Suho said, ducking his head, suddenly sheepish. The whiplash of it made your head spin. Sieun squeezed you. "See? He said he’s sorry. You should forgive him." "Forgive him?!" You shoved yourself upright, scrambling off Sieun’s lap. "Whatever this shit is, I don’t want any part of it. Let me go home. My mom—" "It’s 6 PM," Sieun interrupted, nodding toward the wall clock. "Your mom won’t be home for another three hours." Your blood turned to ice. "How do you know that?"

"Well, babe," Sieun sighed, his voice dripping with false patience. "We've been friends for over a year. You really think I don't listen when you nag about your mom always coming home late?" The air left your lungs. His smile had vanished. In its place was disappointment, edged with something darker.

"And babe? I don’t like it when you lie." Your mouth opened. Nothing came out. "We just wanted to show you how much we like you," he continued, his voice softening into something almost tender. "How perfect we’d be together." His hand rose, fingers brushing your jaw too gentle for the way your pulse was rabbiting in your throat. Then his grip tightened, tilting your face toward his.

You shoved at his chest. "Don’t—"His other hand snapped to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, yanking. Your lips met his in a hard, bruising kiss. You stayed frozen, your body rigid until you felt hands on your hips, dragging you backward.

Suho. He hauled you into his lap, his breath hot against your ear. "See?" he murmured, his arms locking around your waist like a vise. "This isn’t so bad." Sieun pulled back just far enough to look at you. His thumb swiped over your bottom lip, wiping away the sting of the kiss. "You’ll get used to it."

Your hand cracked against Sieun's wrist, slapping him away with a violence that surprised even you. The room froze. For one suspended second, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing then Sieun's expression darkened, something primal uncoiling behind his eyes. "I was being so sweet with you," he murmured, voice dripping with false calm. "So gentle. Knowing how fragile you are."

His fingers flexed. "But it looks like you like it rough, huh, babe?" The slap came fast a starburst of pain across your cheek, snapping your head to the side. Your lips stung, throbbing where your teeth had cut into them. Behind you, Suho let out a low, delighted laugh, his breath hot against your ear.

"Oooh, you got him mad," he teased, fingers already working at the buttons of your shirt, slow and deliberate, like he was unwrapping something precious. "Now you’re really in for it." You squeezed your eyes shut, but you could still feel Sieun watching you could picture the way his gaze tracked Suho’s hands as they parted the fabric, exposing you inch by inch.

A gift being unveiled just for him. The last button gave way. Suho peeled the shirt from your shoulders with a reverence that made your skin crawl, his lips brushing the curve of your bare shoulder. "See?" he whispered. "Isn’t this better?" You turned your face away, refusing to look at Sieun. Refusing to give him the satisfaction. But he caught your chin anyway, forcing your gaze back to his. His thumb swiped over your bruised lip, smearing the blood. "You’ll look at me." he said softly.

Suho's voice slithered through the charged air, saccharine and sharp as broken glass. "Come on, baby. Stand up for me." You didn't want to be slapped again. Your body moved before your mind could protest, muscles obeying out of sheer animal instinct. You stood on trembling legs, turning deliberately away from them both. The front door swam in your vision ten feet of scratched wood and peeling paint that might as well have been a mile away.

A warm hand slid around your waist from behind, pulling you flush against Suho's chest. His lips found the delicate shell of your ear. "Don't even think about it," he murmured, fingers digging into your hipbone hard enough to bruise. "I'd catch you before you made it two steps." His other hand trailed up your spine. "And then I'd fuck you against that door so hard the neighbors would hear."

Behind you, Sieun let out a soft, approving hum. Your reflection stared back at you from the darkened television screen wide-eyed, disheveled, bracketed between their bodies. A fly caught in honey. Suho's teeth grazed your shoulder. "Be good," he whispered. "You know how much better it feels when you're good." Sieun reached around to unzip your skirt.

The skirt pooled at your ankles like a fallen curtain. Suho crouched behind you, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties with deliberate slowness. The elastic stretched taut, then slackened as he inched the fabric downward not ripping, not tearing, but peeling, like he wanted to savor every millimeter of exposed skin. "Look at you," Sieun murmured walking to the front of you, his voice thick with something that made your stomach twist. His hands framed your face, forcing your gaze to stay locked on his. "So pretty like this."

The air was too cold against your bare thighs. Suho’s breath was too hot where it ghosted over the small of your back. "Shhh," he soothed, as if he could feel the tremors wracking your body. His thumbs pressed into the dimples above your hips. "We’ll take care of you." Sieun’s eyes met yours, "You’re ours now," he said, like it was the simplest truth in the world.

Suho had retreated to the couch, his weight making the old leather creak as he settled back to watch. Sieun’s hands guided you down with a gentleness that didn’t match the way your knees hit the hardwood. The sharp jolt of pain wringing a whimper from your throat. The floorboards were cold under your knees.

"Oh, baby," Suho cooed from the couch, his voice syrupy with mock concern. "That sounded like it hurt." You kept your eyes fixed on the floor on the scuff marks in the wood, the dust gathered in the grooves. Anything but them. Then came the click of a belt buckle. The hiss of leather sliding free. Sieun tossed it aside, the sound of it hitting the wall too loud in the quiet room. His fingers found your face again, tilting your chin up with terrifying familiarity.

Your vision filled with him his flushed skin, the way his fist moved over himself, slow and slick. "Come on, baby," he murmured, thumb brushing your lower lip. "Let’s put that mouth to work." "Sieun, I—I don’t know what to—" "Wait!" Suho’s sudden bark made you flinch. He sat forward, eyes alight with something giddy. "You’re a virgin?" A moment. Then your tiny, soft voice "Yes." Suho’s grin split his face. "Woah. You really were made for us." He turned to Sieun, laughing. "Cause this idiot’s a virgin too. Couldn’t stop talking about how he wanted his first time to be with you." His gaze slid back to you, dark. "And now it’s about to happen."

Sieun’s breath hitched with embarrassed or excited, you couldn’t tell. "Wait, I should record this—" Suho lunged for his phone. "No—" "No what?" His voice went sharp. "We need to save this moment forever." He propped the phone against the TV, the red recording light blinking like a predator’s eye. "Back to me," Sieun ordered, fingers tightening in your hair.

Your gaze flicked up just in time to see the hunger in his eyes as he guided himself to your mouth. The first touch of skin to your lips made him whimper. "Oh, god—" Behind you, Suho’s laugh was low, thrilled. "Yeah," he breathed. "This is perfect."

Sieun's inexperience showed in the way his hips stuttered. No rhythm, no control, just the frantic, animal need to take. His fingers twisted tighter in your hair, forcing your head back at an angle that made your jaw ache. "Oh God, I love watching you like this—" His voice was breathless, wrecked. "On your knees for me." Behind you, the couch creaked under Suho's shifting weight. The slick, rhythmic sound of skin on skin filled the spaces between Sieun's choked-off moans. "God… look at you." Suho's words came out in a whimper, high and reedy. "I could watch this all night." Sieun’s thrusts slowed, turned uneven.

"Getting close already?" Suho teased, but his own voice was thick with want. Sieun didn’t answer. Just groaned, his grip on your hair turning vicious. "That feels so fucking good… I can’t hold it—" And then he was coming with a choked-off grunt, hips jerking forward, forcing himself deeper as he spilled into your mouth. "God—yes, I’m coming… fuck—" His fingers tightened, yanking your head back just enough to meet your gaze. "Don’t spill a single drop."

The command slithered down your spine. Across the room, Suho let out a shaky sigh. "Perfect," he whispered. "You’re doing so perfect." The praise felt worse than the violence.

He slipped out of my mouth, you gasped for air only for Sieun to pat your head like a well-trained pet before turning you toward Suho. Suho’s gaze was molten, his jaw tight, his entire body coiled like a predator ready to strike. He looked at you like he wanted to ruin you. "I know I look good like this," he said, voice rough, "but come lay on the couch. I need to work you open." A smirk. "And I doubt Sieun knows how to eat a pussy properly. You’re in for a treat."

Sieun fingers brushed your hip. "Can’t fuck you without getting you wet first. Poor thing would break apart and we don’t want that, right, love?" Like it was the simplest thing in the world. You let yourself be guided onto the couch, thighs pressed together in some last, futile attempt at modesty. Suho tsked, gripping your knee and yanking your legs apart with a single, brutal motion. "None of that."

His gaze raked over you in a hungry and ravenous before his fingers traced your most sensitive skin, feather-light, just enough to make you shiver. "Oh, God," you whimpered. "Barely started, and you’re already falling apart?" He chuckled, dark and low, before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. Then another, lower. His breath, hot and damp, right there. You looked down. He looked up. Held your gaze as he smirked then licked a slow, deliberate stripe up your clit.

Your breath caught and not just from the contact, but from the way Suho looked up at you while he did it. Like he was studying you. Like he was waiting to see the exact moment you’d break. The moment you’d stop pretending you didn’t want this. Sieun sat beside him now, lounging where Suho had been at the start. One leg crossed over the other, fingers brushing his lower lip, his gaze heavy on your naked skin. Watching. You tried to close your legs. Suho growled, low and dark, his hands tightening around your thighs. “Don’t,” he warned, dragging his mouth back against you, unhurried, deliberate. Tongue slow and cruel. “Don’t even think about it. Keep them open.”

You whimpered. “Wait—please, I don’t—”

Sieun’s voice cut through like a thread pulled taut. “Aw, are you overwhelmed already? ”

“She’s soaking,” Suho muttered, lips brushing slick skin. “Look at you. Trembling like a whore but pretending to be shy.” You turned your face into the couch cushion, heat flooding through you. Suho’s fingers flexed, lifting your hips like you weighed nothing. “Open.” A pause. “Wider.” His voice dropped, gravel-rough. “You don’t want to make me say it again.” You hesitated, lips parted in a breath you didn’t realize you was holding. Then, slowly you let your thighs fall open, exposing yourself with a tremble that said more than any word ever could.  “Good girl,” Suho said, mock-sweet, a vicious edge behind the praise. “That’s better. I’ll teach you manners next. You’ll be thanking me before I’m done.”

His mouth returned. His pace rougher now, merciless. Tongue circling, pressing, flattening and your body betrayed you. You moaned, broken and high, fingers clawing the cushion like it could ground you. “No,” you gasped. “I don’t want—this isn’t—” But your voice cracked at the end. Suho didn’t stop. He licked deeper, harder, drawing sounds from you you’d never made before.

And still Sieun said nothing. He sat back in the chair, legs spread, hand wrapped around himself, slow and deliberate. He didn’t rush because he didn’t need to. Watching you fall apart under Suho’s mouth was enough. The way your thighs trembled, the way your moans filled the room. His gaze never left your face, even as his fist pumped lazily, thumb grazing the tip every time you whimpered like you weren’t soaked for it. “That’s it,” he murmured, voice low and cruelly soft. “Let him ruin you while you pretend you’re not loving every second.” His smile twisted. “Don’t worry, my love. You’ll scream for me next.” 

You tried to hold onto something, the edge of the couch, the fabric of your own discarded shirt anything to anchor yourself against the rising tide of sensation. You were a virgin, but you recognized the telltale signs: the tightening in your belly, the way your thighs trembled, the dizzying rush of blood between your legs. Suho noticed. Of course he did. "Oh, baby," he murmured against your skin, his lips brushing your inner thigh. "Are you close?" His fingers worked faster, rubbing tight circles over your clit before sliding two fingers inside you, pumping in a relentless rhythm. "Should I slow down? Or speed up?"

Your body arched off the couch, elbows digging into the cushions as you tried to twist away but then Sieun was there, his chest pressing flush against your back, his arms locking around you like steel bands. “Shhh,” he murmured, his breath damp against your ear. One hand slid up your ribcage, but there was no gentleness in his touch just heat. A sharp tug, a vicious sound of tearing fabric, and the front clasp of your bra snapped open under his grip. The cups fell apart like they never stood a chance, fabric splitting as if your body had no right to hide from him. 

His other hand didn't hesitate. Thumb and forefinger closed around your nipple, pinching just shy of pain before rolling it slowly until the ache radiated through your whole chest. “You’re gonna come, and you’re gonna look me in the eyes when you do." Suho coaxed, his voice honey-sweet. Sieun's teeth grazed your earlobe. "Good girl… give it to us. All of it.”  You were trapped between them. Suho’s mouth on you now, his tongue replacing his fingers, licking into you with obscene precision, while Sieun’s hands roamed over your bare chest, his breath hot against your neck 

The pleasure was too much. The wrongness was too much. Your body didn’t care it arched into their touches, betraying you, chasing the climax even as your mind screamed no, no, no—"That’s it," Suho coaxed, his voice muffled against your skin. "Come for us." And you did. Your vision whited out, your back bowing off the couch as the orgasm ripped through you, violent and unwanted. Sieun held you through it, his arms tightening around you, his lips pressed to your temple in something almost like tenderness.

"Good girl," he murmured, lips brushing your temple like a prayer. And then Suho was moving, crawling up your body with slow, predatory ease, his smile sharp, his eyes dark with something hungry. You could feel the heat of him drawing closer, his body climbing over yours like a wave about to break. One hand dragged along your inner thigh, fingers grazing every trembling nerve as though he were mapping your undoing, memorizing the way you shook, the way you breathed, the way you tried and failed to retreat into yourself.

Then he was above you, weight settling over your hips, caging you between the couch cushions and the scent of sweat, leather, and something  that made your skin crawl even as your body arched up to meet it. His smile was different now. There was nothing playful left in it. “Now it’s our turn,” he said, and the words coiled around your ribs like wire. You flinched, almost imperceptibly. But Sieun felt it. His hand slid to your throat a suggestion of the their power over you. “No more pretending,” he murmured against your ear, his tone low, coaxing. Dangerous in its calm. “If that was a protest, sweetheart, you’ve got a funny way of showing it.” You wanted to scream.

 But your voice had gone soft somewhere between Suho’s tongue and Sieun’s brutal mouth fucking and that breaking point you didn’t remember crossing. Suho’s fingers brushed your hipbone, almost reverent now. And somehow. They weren’t in a rush. They never were. Because they already had what they wanted. You. Now they were just taking their time enjoying the aftertaste. 

Suho didn’t rush. He watched you, eyes dark and unreadable, as he settled fully between your thighs. The weight of him was suffocating, his presence impossibly heavy as he nudged your trembling knees apart, exposing the last of you. “You’re still shaking,” he murmured, voice a dark melody against your skin. “Good.” Sieun’s arms tightened around you, his grip unrelenting as he leaned in, whispering at your temple. “You don’t get to hide anymore.”

You tried to twist away one final, a very useless protest but it only made them hold tighter. Sieun's fingers dug into your jaw, turning your face toward him. ““Ah, ah—stay still. I like watching you realize you can’t escape.” he said softly. “Look at you…trying so hard to stay in control. It's adorable. Pathetic, but adorable.” 

You felt it, the pressure of him, deliberate and claiming, as he pushed against your entrance. Your body tensed, a whimper rising in your throat, caught somewhere between fear and some cruel, traitorous need. There was no pretending now. No denying what was happening. He pushed in, slow and relentless, stretching you inch by unforgiving inch. “Fuck,” Suho groaned, head falling forward against your chest as he bottomed out. “So fucking tight…” You cried out, the sound raw and shattering, but Sieun caught it, swallowed it with his mouth against your cheek. “Breathe,” he whispered, voice like silk. “Let him in.”

The broken little noises slipping from your throat. You gasped, fingers scrabbling against the cushions as your body clenched around him, involuntary. It hurt. God, it hurt. A sharp, invasive ache that pulsed with each slow grind of his hips. You’d never done this before your body unpracticed, untouched, painfully tight around the unforgiving stretch of him.

“Shhh…” Suho’s voice was low, soothing in a way that didn’t match the brutal reality of your position. “This stretch... this pain... this is how you know it’s real.” You whimpered, back arching. It felt like too much like you were being split open from the inside. And he knew. You could see it in his eyes, the flicker of something close to reverence as he watched your face contort.

“No more pretending,” Suho growled as he drove into you harder. “Look at your face. You didn’t know you could feel this much, did you?”  Your breath fractured into pieces, each inhale more ragged than the last as Suho began to move in earnest. His thrusts hit deeper now, each one grinding into your tender core with merciless precision, dragging another whimper from your throat even as you tried to bite them back. “There,” Suho hissed, voice thick with pleasure. “Right there. That’s the sound I want.”

You shook your head instinctively, not even knowing what you were denying anymore—his voice, the way your body reacted, the brutal, burning fullness of him inside you. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t asking. He was showing you what it meant to be taken. Sieun’s mouth ghosted over your temple, lips soft in contrast to his grip on your body. “You feel that?” he murmured, hand sliding possessively over your throat, thumb pressing just under your jaw. “That wet little slap? That’s how much you love this, even if you won’t say it.” 

Suho pulled back just enough to thrust again, slower this time but deeper and you felt your muscles spasm around him, raw and unwilling, but yielding. Adjusting. Betraying you in real time. “That’s it,” Suho muttered against your neck, teeth grazing the skin there. “You’re opening up so pretty for me now.” Your hands fisted into the cushions. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push away or hold on.

“It hurts,” you gasped.  Suho’s breath was hot against your ear. ““It’s not pain, baby. It’s your body learning who it belongs to.”  Sieun’s hand tightened on your jaw again, tilting your face toward him. “And you’re paying it so beautifully,” he whispered, eyes gleaming with something dark. “Every cry, every shiver you’re giving us everything.”  Sieun’s free hand drifted down, fingers circling your clit with cruel precision. "“Fuck, look at you—so pretty with him buried deep inside," he whispered. "You're trembling so sweetly." 

Your hips jerked, a broken sound tearing from your throat as pleasure coiled tight beneath his touch, hot and insistent, wrongwrongwrong—Suho groaned, his rhythm stuttering. "Clinging to me already? You’re squeezing like you want to break me." His hips slammed forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he came inside you with a low, satisfied growl. Sieun’s fingers worked faster, relentless, until your vision whited out, just from the overwhelm, your body shuddering through a climax that felt like surrender. "There it is," Sieun murmured, watching the tears spill down your cheeks. "That’s our girl."

Suho didn’t pull out. Just stayed seated deep, his breath hot on your shoulder. "Now you know," he said softly. "Now you really know." Suho gave your cheek a soft, almost patronizing pat before slipping out of you. The sudden emptiness made your body jolt, the heat of him still dripping down your thighs, slick and unmistakably his. You barely had a moment to breathe before his hands gripped your waist again and lifted you like you weighed nothing at all.

“Okay, baby,” he murmured, voice low and satisfied. “Time for Sieun to get his cherry popped.” You barely registered the words before you were lowered into another pair of waiting arms. Sieun looked up at you, wide-eyed, pupils blown, lips parted like he couldn’t decide if this was really happening. His hands were hesitant on your hips. Your body was already raw, oversensitive, and trembling but Suho was still there behind you, grounding you, guiding you. He pressed closer, one palm sliding over your lower back, the other curling around your side possessively.

Sieun lined himself up to your entrance, breath ragged. His length nudged at your slick entrance, the hesitation in his eyes making your pulse stutter. “Come on,” Suho whispered against your ear, voice like velvet. “Let him in.” And then he was guiding you down, slow, steady and cruel. Sieun gasped, head falling back against the couch as you sank onto him inch by inch. He was overwhelmed every breath he took sounded like it might shatter him. His nails dug lightly into your hips, unsure whether to pull you down or hold you still.

You whimpered, the stretch making you tremble again. It wasn’t just physical. It was the way Sieun looked at you like you were something angelic. Sieun’s voice broke on a breathless moan. “I—I can’t…” “You can,” Suho said behind you, voice low and firm. “She’ll take all of you. Won’t you, baby?”

You didn’t answer but your body responded, trembling around him, clenching involuntarily as Sieun slowly slid deeper. Every inch dragged a gasp from his lips, and a broken, whispered plea from yours. The stretch burned, not just from being filled again, but from way he was how careful and clumsy all at once.

Sieun was breathing like he’d run miles, his chest rising and falling against yours as his arms tightened, unsure whether to anchor himself or anchor you. His eyes were locked on your face, like he needed permission, reassurance, something to ground him. But you couldn’t give it. You weren’t grounded. You were floating in the space between pain and pleasure and the lines between your body and theirs blurring by the second.

Suho’s voice seeped into you, slow and thick like warm honey laced with poison. “He’s shaking, sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing your hair off your damp forehead. “You’re too much for him already.” Sieun whimpered beneath you, the sound quiet and overwhelmed. “She’s… so warm… so tight… I can’t—” “You’re already inside her, Sieun.” Suho cut in. “Too late to hesitate.”

You could feel the tremor in Sieun’s thighs, the twitch in his fingers as he tried not to move, not to finish before it had even begun. He throbbed deep inside you, pulsing with restraint he clearly didn’t have the experience to manage. And still, Suho didn’t let up. “Move,” he ordered, his hand pressing firmly on your lower back again, forcing you to rock barely an inch, but enough.

You cried out, hips jerking reflexively as the motion sent sparks across every nerve. Sieun moaned helplessly, biting his lip so hard it went white. “Good,” Suho praised, “Just like that. Make him feel what it’s like to be inside something that’s already been broken open for him.” That did something to Sieun his hips bucked upward instinctively, and you gasped, fingers clawing at his shoulders, trying to stay upright as the sensation knocked the air from your lungs. He was too close. You could feel it.

Something had shifted. Gone was the wide-eyed hesitation. In its place, raw instinct. The kind that took over when thought vanished and only feeling remained. He sat up suddenly, arms locking tight around your back. Before you could process it, he was rising, lifting you with him in one swift, shaky movement. You let out a startled cry as your legs wrapped reflexively around his waist, his hands slipping beneath your thighs to hold you in place.

The air hit your skin as he stood fully upright, your back pressed against the nearby shelf cool wood against flushed flesh. His breath came in ragged bursts, face buried in your neck as he began to move. He was rough now, uncontrolled. His hips snapping up into you, his grip bruising but desperate. The way he held you, thrust into you, didn’t feel like inexperience anymore. It felt like hunger. Like he’d been holding back and now couldn’t stop.

Each movement drove you up the shelf an inch before gravity pulled you back down, onto him again. Over and over. The sound of skin on skin echoed through the room wet, sharp, unrelenting. Suho stood nearby, watching. A proud, dangerous gleam in his eye. “That’s it,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Take what you want, Sieun. She can give it. All of it.” And Sieun did.

He buried his face against your shoulder, muffling a broken moan as his rhythm faltered hips stuttering, thrusts going sloppy. “Fuck… you feel so good,” he gasped, voice cracking. “I can’t—I’m gonna—” You could feel the build in his body. Every muscle straining.

Every breath breaking apart against your skin as he pushed deeper, chasing the edge like he’d drown without it. “Taking me so deep,” he whimpered, helpless now. “It’s too much—too fucking good—” with one final, shaking thrust. He gasped your name like a prayer and came. You felt it. The sudden heat spilling inside you, thick and hot pulsing as he emptied himself, moaning brokenly into your neck.

You heard clapping. The sound echoed through the room like it didn’t belong there. It sliced through the haze in your head like a cold blade. You turned your face toward it. Suho was standing now, walking toward you both with that grin that infuriating, knowing grin stretched across his face like he’d already won. “See?” he said, clapping again, louder this time. “See how good we are together?” He gestured between himself and Sieun, then toward you. “You can never get rid of us. We’re in you now.”

Sieun was still beside you, fingers ghosting up your spine in a slow, possessive stroke. You didn’t know when he’d moved. You didn’t even feel your body shift but somehow, his hand was at the nape of your neck now, anchoring you in place like you were something dangerous. Suho stepped in front of you, grin softening into something colder. His gaze slid up your body like it belonged there… you didn’t move.

“You can’t get rid of us,” he whispered, voice slick with triumph. “Now you belong to us and no matter how hard you try, you’ll never get rid of us.” Sieun’s voice rasped hot against your ear, the words more like a threat than a promise.

“You get that, don’t you?” before you could respond, Suho was in front of you too close. His thumb dragged across your bottom lip, slowly. Like he had all the time in the world to remind you who you belonged to. “Smile for me,” he said. And when you didn’t.

His hand snapped up, gripping your jaw hard enough to make your breath catch. His fingers dug in, forcing your face toward his, his voice dropping to a low, razor-edged growl. “I said—smile.” This time, you did. Lips trembling, teeth clenched. And when you did, he smiled too. The kind of smile that told you this wasn’t over. The kind of smile that said next time?

You’d better not hesitate. 

The move was your parents’ idea. A fresh start, closer to their oldest friends. You remembered the Sieuns vaguely from childhood; a single, blurry memory of a quiet, serious-eyed boy who’d hidden behind his mother’s legs. You hadn't thought of him in years.

Now, your mothers were determined to bridge the decade-long gap.

“Sieun-ah, Y/N is like a daughter to me. You look after her at school, understand?” his mother said that first morning, her voice sweet but firm. “Don’t let anything happen to her.”

So you walked to school together in suffocating silence, two islands of introversion adrift in a sea of awkwardness. Sieun didn’t look at you, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his gaze fixed on the pavement. You matched his pace, the weight of his mother’s request hanging between you.

Then, a whirlwind of energy shattered the quiet.

“Yah! Yeon Sieun! Since when do you walk to school with a girl?”

Suho appeared, slinging a familiar arm around Sieun’s shoulders, but his bright, disarming grin was aimed entirely at you. “Who’s this? Hey, I’m Ahn Suho. Sieun’s best friend.” His friendliness was overwhelming, instantly painting you as his new discovery.

Before Sieun could muster a grunt in reply, another boy approached—softer, shyer. Beomseok. His eyes met yours for a second before darting away, a deep blush creeping up his neck. “Hi,” he mumbled, his voice barely a whisper, shoving Suho playfully in a nervous gesture.

Sieun’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. He saw it all. The way Suho’s smile was a little too possessive for a first meeting. The way Beomseok couldn’t meet your eyes, his shyness radiating a different, more intense kind of interest. A hot, coiling possessiveness ignited in his gut. You were his. His to walk with. His responsibility. His.

“She’s my neighbor,” Sieun said, his voice flat and final, cutting through Suho’s easy chatter. “Let’s go. We’re late.” He didn’t wait for them, starting to walk again, forcing you to follow in his wake.

That was how it began. The four of you became an unlikely, inseparable group. But beneath the surface of shared lunches and study sessions, a silent war was brewing.

Sieun saw every interaction as a threat. When Beomseok, gathering his courage for a week, finally brought you a strawberry milk, his hands trembling slightly—“I just… thought you might like it…”—Sieun’s pen stilled on his homework. He didn’t say a word, but the air around him turned to ice. Later, he “accidentally” knocked the unopened bottle into the trash.

When Suho, ever the physical touch enthusiast, slung his arm around your shoulders after you made a joke, pulling you into his side with a loud laugh, Sieun’s stare was sharp enough to cut glass. He found a reason to need your help with a problem immediately, physically inserting himself between you, his body a barrier.

And when Sieun himself stayed behind after school to help you with a math concept you couldn’t grasp, his patience uncharacteristically endless, his fingers lingering a second too long as he pointed to an equation in your textbook, both Suho and Beomseok watched from the hallway, their expressions a mirror of the same frustrated jealousy.

The competition was unsustainable. They were tripping over each other, their rivalries threatening to scare you away. They needed a new strategy.

The pact was formed in hushed tones behind the school, away from your ever-watchful, unknowing eyes.

“This is stupid,” Suho finally muttered, kicking a pebble. “We’re all going to lose her like this.”

“She’s not a prize to be won,” Beomseok added quietly, though his clenched fists betrayed his calm tone.

Sieun was silent, his dark eyes watching 6them. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and decisive. “No. She’s not a prize. She’s… ours.”

The word hung in the air, radical and inevitable. Ours. It wasn’t about winning individually anymore. It was about claiming you, together.

The plan was Beomseok’s idea. His parents were going overseas for a week. The house would be empty. Perfect.

The invitation was extended casually. A study session. Just the four of you. No distractions.

You agreed easily, innocently. You saw the three most important people in your new life.

You didn’t see the three predators who had just agreed to share their favorite meal.

The click of the door closing was a sound that would echo in your nightmares forever.

Beomseok’s house was enormous, a palace of quiet wealth that felt more like a gilded cage. “Wow, your house is so big.” You breathed, genuinely impressed.You were so distracted, so excited to see his home, that you barely noticed yourself shrugging off your school bag and letting it drop carelessly onto the polished floor of the entryway. A small, forgotten heap of trust and normalcy.

Beosmeok flinched, a faint blush on his cheeks. His mind was a whirlwind of the filthy, obsessive thoughts he'd harbored since you'd become Sieun's neighbor and their group's sole object of affection. “I get that a lot.” He mumbled sheepishly.

“Where are we gonna study?” you asked, still looking around in awe.

“Uhm..how about my room?” Beomseok suggested, his voice a little too high.

Sieun and suho exchanged a glance— a quick, silent communication of predatory intent. They sighed in audible relief. When you blissfully unaware followed them upstairs.

The moment you crossed the threshold into Beomseok’s bedroom, suho turned and clicked the lock on the door. The sound was final. You were making it easy for them, sitting on the edge of the large fluffy bed bouncing slightly. “Wow you got such a big bed.”

But then you felt it. The atmosphere shifted, growing thick and charged. You looked at them— Sieun's dark intense stare, suho's cocky grin that didn't reach his cold eyes, beomseok's nervous excited fidgeting. Your heart began to race. “I think…I should go home.”

You tried to stand up but a hand shoved you back onto the mattress. It was sieun.

“Sieun..?” you asked, shock rendering you immobile for a second. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer with words. He answered you by pouncing on you, his body crushing yours, his mouth attaching to your neck in a wet, claiming kiss that was sure to bruise.

“Sieun, what's wrong with you? Get off of me!” You screamed, pushing at his shoulder your pleas turning to pure panic. You looked desperately at suho and Beomseok. “Help me!”

Suho's grin winded. “Oh y/n.” He purred  climbing onto the bed with deliberate grace of a predator.” You don't know how much we love you.” He easily captured you flailing wrists in one strong hand, pinning them above your head. “Now hold still.”

“Suho please I'm your friend!”

“Shh..” He cooed, his other hand groping your breast over your shirt. “This is how friends show they care.”

Beomseok watched from the foot of the bed, his eyes wide, his breathing shallow. He was mesmerized, one hand subtly moving to adjust himself through his pants.

“I love you so much.” sieun murmured against your skin, his voice low and terrifyingly sincere as he unbuttoned your shirt with practiced ease. He tore your bra off, exposing you to the cool air and their hungry gazes.

“Fuck they are even sexier than I thought.” suho groaned, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching just enough to make you cry. He held your wrists tighter. 

“Look at her, beomseok. Isn't she pretty?” Beomseok could only nod, swallowing thickly.

You kicked out wildly as sieun shoved your skirt up and ripped your panties off. He shoved two thick fingers inside you without warning, the sqeulening sound obscene in the quiet room. You clenched around him, a traitorous wetness spreading despite your terror.

“Open up.” Suho commanded, tapping your jaw.

You clenched your teeth, turning your head away. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, wreching your head back. “I'm asking you nicely. Now c'mon open up.”

Your mouth fell open in a gasp as sieun suddenly replaced his fingers with his cock, sheathing himself inside you in one brutal thrust. Taking the opportunity, suho shoved his length into your mouth, hitting the back of your mouth.

“I swear if I feel your teeth,” he groaned, his hip beginning a shallow rhythm. “I'll knock every one of them out.” 

This was the cue beomseok needed. The mattress dipped as he joined, his eyes zeroing in on your breasts. “So perfect.” He whispered, before leaning down and taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking and laving it with his tongue like a man starved. He moaned against your skin, his own free hand fumbling to undo his pants. He was painfully hard. He grabbed your limp, free hand and wrapped it around his cock, forcing you to jerk him off with clumsy, unwilling strokes.

Sieun was relentless above you, his thrusts deep and punishing. “You feel so good.” He praised, his voice a husky whisper in your ear. His words were a grotesque contrast to his actions. “You were made for me. For us. Taking me so well.” His praise was as much a violation as the act itself.

When he came, spilling inside you with guttural groans,he didn't pull out immediately. He stayed buried within you, as if savoring his claim. 

Suho was already impatient “My turn.” He declared,  pushing a dazed sieun off of you. He positioned himself between your sore, trembling legs.

“No suho please I can't–!” You begged, fresh tears streaming down your face.

“Don't be like that, sweetheart.” He tutted, slapping your inner thigh. The sting made you yelp. “You took sieun just fine. You think you're too good for me?” He didn't wait for an answer. He drove into you, the stretch burning. You cried out, a mix of pain and unwanted pleasure making your head spin. 

“Look at her.” suho laughed, his thrusts brutal and degrading. “Getting wet for it. You're a natural little slut. Aren't you? Just needed us to show you.”

“Shhh it's okay.” Beomseok cooed from beside you, still forcing your hand on his cock. “You're doing so good for us.” His kindness was the most sickening part. He leaned over and littered your chest with kisses and bites, marking you as his own as suho pounded into you.

“Fuck I'm gonna fill you up!” suho grunted, his pace becoming erratic “gonna make sure you remember who you belong to.” He came with a roar, collapsing his weight on you before rolling off, leaving you feeling empty and used.

“Get off of her suho. It's my turn now.” beomseok didn't wait. He simply pushed suho's leg aside and positioned himself. You were so sore, so stretched, you could barely move. 

“Beomseok just stop please–I'm begging you!” you sobbed, hoping for a shred of mercy.

“Why?” he scoffed, his usual shyness gone, replaced by entitled leer. “You took both of them. You think I'm not good enough?” he didn't give you a chance to answer. He pushed inside and you whined, the sensation overwhelming. He was not as rough as suho but his thrusts were eager, desperate. He moaned your name like a prayer, his eyes glued to where your bodies joined.

“Open up.” Sieun was back, his renewed erection tapping against your lips. You looked at him, the boy you'd known since your childhood and fresh tears fell. You shook your head. 

“I said open your fucking mouth.” He snarled, fisting your hair. You obeyed and he shoved himself inside, fucking your mouth with the same possessive intensity as before. “Fuck your mouth feels so good.” He groaned. “So warm. Made for me.”

You were trapped between them–beomseok pounding into you from below, sieun claiming your mouth and suho watching from a chair, stroking himslef, urging them on.

Beomseok came first with a broken cry, spilling inside you. Your own body betrayed you with a second, shuddering orgasm that left you feeling hollow. Sieun followed, his release coating your throat some of it dripping from your lips as he pulled out with a satisfied sigh.

For a moment, there was only the sound of heavy breathing. You lay there, covered in their sweat and spend. A single tear traced path through the mess on your cheek.

You slowly sat up, your entire body screaming in protest. The sight that greeted you was suho, still seated, watching you with a dark, satisfied smile. You tried to stand but your legs gave away and you crumpled to the floor.

Sieun was there instantly, his hands on you  trying to help you. “Don't touch me!” You screamed, your voice raw and broken. 

He flinched as if you'd struck him.” Here sit..I'll.. I'll fix your dress.” He said, his voice soft again, that twisted parody of care returning. He led you back to the bed. His touch burned as he redid your bra and buttoned your shirt. When he tried to pull your panties up  you winced in agony. 

“Sieun ah do you really think she can wear those?”  suho drawled from his chair.” It'll definitely hurt her.”

Sieun hesitated then slowly pulled them down, holding the torn fabric. 

“I'll keep those.” Beomseok said, softly, his voice back to its shy murmur but request was perverse.

Sieun tossed them to him without a word. “You sick bastard.” Suho chuckled, but it was a sound of approval.

Sieun fetched a towel and began to clean between your legs, his movements clinical, like he was mopping up a spill. It was humiliating, a sloppy attempt to erase the evidence of their crime.

“Can you walk now?” sieun asked, his eyes searching yours for something –forgiveness, understanding, love.

You just stared through him.

“Looks like she's too fucked out to even to talk to us.” suho said, standing and walking over. He slapped your cheek lightly.” Hey, answer him. He's talking to you.”

“Is she okay?” beomseok asked, genuine worry in his tone. It was disgusting. 

“Totally fine.” suho answered for you. “Guesz she's just…happy.”

With herculean effort, you stood and walked over toward the door on shaking legs. “Wait y/n!” Sieun's voice was panicked behind you.

He caught up to you easily. “Let's go home together.”

“After what you did to me? No. Never. “

He followed you out, down the stairs and out the front door, a lost puppy. “Let me get your bag.” You ignored him. “Lets take a taxi. You can't walk.”

He was right. You were limping and the walk of shame was compounded by the aching emptiness between your legs. He hailed a cab and bundled you inside, his presence a suffocating shadow.

The ride was silent. When your street came into view, you practically fell out of the car. He was right behind you.

“Get out of my way! You piece of shit!” you spat, all your fury and pain boiling over.

He looked genuinely wounded. “Y/n, i–no, we love you. Don't you see it?”

The words were the final straw. “You're all sick. I hate you. I hate all of you. Don't ever talk to me again.” You shoved past him and stumbled into your house, slamming the door shut on his devastated face.

Sieun stood there frozen. ‘I hate you’ the words echoed, each one knife to his heart. No no you couldn't. You don't understand. They loved you. They'd show you how much they love you. You are theirs. This wasn't rejection, he'd accept. This was a temporary setback.

He loves you, and he would never, ever let you go.

Your door bangs aggressively, making you jump in your seat. Panic swirls in your chest, you were in trouble. In trouble for being a bit too close with your male friend.

You walk towards your door quickly, already knowing who is across that door. You take a deep breath and open the door, meeting with furious eyes that pierce through yours.

There, was your boyfriend. Ahn Suho.

After the night he almost killed your abusive ex boyfriend, you saw him as a home. Knowing he was ready to protect you all the time made your heart flutter. When he kissed you for the first time, one part of you was screaming at you to not do it, that you were vulnerable, and he was manipulating you. The other part in the other hand, craved someone to love after your heart was crushed to crumbs.

Suho knew what he was doing, every move was planned. Planned to make you succumb to him. He took note of your vulnerable parts after your toxic relationship, made sure to seem like a perfect band aid. He wouldn’t care if you weren’t over that bastard yet, as long as you were his.

And he succeeded. You kissed him back.

Maybe you wanted him too, that’s what you thought.

After a few months, you noticed how easily jealous he was. Jealous enough to distance you from your own friends.

You only had him. You didn’t live with your parents, and Suho found ways to make you fight with your friends. You felt all alone, until he gave you a warm embrace.

You couldn’t leave him, you were so in love, you thought, despite it being nothing else than attachment.

He greeted himself in, not giving you a chance to close the door. You step back as he towers over you.

“Who the hell is he?”

You explain him that how the guy is non-other than a friend, that the man across you is the love of your life. Which results into nothing. So you do the best you can. You kiss him. If it meant he would calm down, that he would at least listen to you properly, you would kiss him for hours.

That results to you be thrown to your bed, hickeys forming across your neck already.

You tell yourself to keep being good for him, you were scared of losing your only one.

He almost rips your clothes off, leaving you in your underwear.

“Get on your knees, now.”

You blink once, then twice. You hesitate. He notices.

“I haven’t even done anything to you yet, is it that hard to process what you’re told? Get on your fucking knees before I drag you by the hair.”

You quickly oblige, your eyebrows furrowed. You never heard him speak harshly towards you.

He gets rid of his clothing, taking his length in his hand, guiding his tip to your mouth, the other gripping your hair tightly.

“Stick your tongue out, come on.”

Your mouth falls open, tongue darting out. He slaps himself on your tongue before thrusting all the way in your throat. Your eyes open wide as you choke, your hands hitting his thighs while he puts on a quick pace. He grunts as he grabs both of your wrists and secures them against his stomach. You gag, not just from his tip hitting the back of your throat, but also from how you looked at the moment.

You seemed devoted to him, worshipping him, like a prayer.

You hated it.

His pace quickened, you knew he was close.

“If you waste a drop… I’ll make sure you regret that.”

With a deep groan, he empties himself down your throat, while you have no option but to swallow because of how deep he is.

You cough repeatedly after he pulls out, trying to seize your throat until he speaks up.

“Get on the bed. All fours.”

His voice is firm and commanding, giving you no room to complain.

When you follow his instructions, you hear a faint hum behind you. Suddenly, a sharp slap sound fills the room. Your ass burns as you wince.

“You sorry for earlier?”

He asks, his tone pressuring you into saying what he wants to hear.

“Yes. I am.”

“Then you shouldn’t defy me, is that right?”

“Yes.”

You answer quickly without thinking. You hear him scoff before reaching for the waistband of your panties.

“That’s a good slut.”

He quickly pulls it down past your ankles. Not giving you a chance to react, he presses between your shoulder blades, sinking your head to the pillow. When you feel him rub his tip against your folds, you flinch.

“Hey! Wait, wait. I’m not sure— “

“Shut the fuck up. You’re going to take what I give you.”

You feel him push, stretching you slowly.

“Or would you rather I break up with you, hm? Nobody would want you after me.”

Your eyes tear up as you feel him bottom up, instantly putting a punishing pace. You close your eyes, trying to think about anything but the pain he’s causing.

“Focus on me, baby.”

He reaches for your sensitive bud, circling it fast, making you moan out loud.

“That’s it, just like that. You’re getting wetter for me.”

You clench your fists, your stomach coils. You involuntarily clench around him, making him grunt. He knew you were close too. When he changes the angle of his hips, hitting your sweet spot, you cry out, finishing around his length.

His pace doesn’t falter, doesn’t let you ride out your orgasm, gripping your hips tightly to leave you no room to escape. Then he leans down, his breath hot against your ear.

“I’m going to fill you up so deep; you’ll leak my release for days.”

Your eyes widen as you start trashing around.

“No— Not inside, please no.”

“Yes baby, inside.”

He twitches inside you, moaning your name as he bursts out ribbons of cum inside. You slightly sob as he pulls out, his gaze directed at your leaking entrance as you lay completely flat against the bed with exhaustion.

He lays down next to you and opens his arms, a slight grin evident on his face.

“Shh come here. I’ll buy you a plan B tomorrow if you hate it that much.”

“Stop,” he said softly. I went still. His hand reached out, brushed my hair back from my shoulder. He let his fingers linger at the ends, twirling one strand around his index finger before letting it fall.

I was too stunned to speak. His hand moved again, slower this time, until his fingers slid beneath my chin. He tilted it up. Firm. Not rough. Just enough to make me look at him. Our eyes met. “You’re going to the library with Mr. Kim tomorrow,” he said, voice low. “Aren’t you?” I blinked. He smirked, like he already knew the answer.

“I told him you’d help him organize those files. Said you volunteered.” He leaned in, voice brushing my ear. “You’ll be alone. Cameras don’t work on that floor.” My insides twisted. 

He stepped back just slightly and looked me over. Then reached for the front of my uniform. His fingers smoothed the lapel, straightened the collar. His knuckles grazed my chest—just enough to make me flinch. “You’ll cry,” he said, like he was listing instructions. “Scratch yourself if you have to. Tell the principal he touched you.”

I remember staring at him. He tilted his head. “If you don’t,” he said, voice like ice, “that magazine? The one in my bag? I’ll say it was yours. That you put it there.” My lips parted. I was about to say something, anything, but he pressed a finger to them. Silencing me.

“You’re good at playing scared,” he said. “So play your part.” Then he let his hand drop. And smiled. “You don’t want to find out what I’ll do if you don’t.” He turned and walked away. I felt trapped in my own body. The library felt colder. Smaller. Like there was no way out.

I did exactly what he told me to. I told Mr. Kim I’d volunteered to help organize the school’s admin files. That I didn’t mind staying late. That I liked keeping things in order. He looked at me for a moment too long. “You volunteered?” he asked, a flicker of something unreadable behind his eyes. “Of course,” I said. “Didn’t the office tell you?” He hesitated. “No, they didn’t.”

We walked in silence. I could feel the way his eyes kept flicking over to me, like he was trying to match my words to my expression, and nothing was lining up. When we reached the library, he paused at the doorway. “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked. “You’ve been… quiet.” “I’m fine,” I lied, my voice too light. “Just tired.” He didn’t answer. Still, he followed me inside.

That’s when I let it all unravel. The scream tore from my throat, loud and raw and jagged. My fingers fumbled at the buttons of my shirt, tugging them open. I ran my hands through my hair, pulled at it until it stood wild. My chest heaved. I stumbled back out of the room, sobbing. Loud. Messy. Behind me, Mr. Kim called my name softly. Unsure. He didn’t follow immediately. He stood in the doorway like he’d walked into the wrong dream.

Out into the hall, stumbling, breath coming in jagged bursts. I didn’t have to fake the panic it was already there, just from being part of this. From knowing what Seung-tae would do if I didn’t. That’s when I saw her.

Mrs. Sung, coming out of the staff office with papers in her hand. I collapsed into her arms. Didn’t say a word just pointed behind me, where Mr. Kim stood in the doorway of the library, still frozen, trying to process what had just happened. Mrs. Sung’s arms locked around me like a shield. When Mr. Kim stepped forward, his face pale, lips parted to speak—

“Don’t,” she snapped. “Stay where you are.” Her phone rang in that exact moment. She answered it, still holding me. I could hear the principal’s voice from here. “Bring them. Now. To the homeroom.” So we went. I let her half-carry me down the hallway, my shirt still hanging open, eyes fixed on the ground. I felt like I was drifting through someone else’s life. She kept shaking her head, muttering under her breath.

“I can’t believe this… a teacher. What the hell were you thinking?” Mr. Kim didn’t say a word. “You disgust me,” she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. “I trusted you. We all did.” He didn’t respond. When we entered the classroom, every head turned. The students went quiet. Some looked away, others leaned forward, hungry for the story they didn’t know yet.

The principal stood waiting. “Bring me Seung-tae’s bag,” he said. Mr. Kim blinked. “His bag?” He turned toward the desk and picked it up. His fingers trembled slightly. The principal took it without a word. He unzipped it. Tipped it over. Books. Folders. A soft thump. Then the slap of something glossy hitting the desk. The magazines. Gasps rippled through the classroom like wind through trees. And when I glanced at Mr. Kim, his face had changed. He wasn’t just stunned now. He was looking at me. Like he was beginning to understand. 

The air was thick with the weight of unspoken dread as my eyes accidentally met Seung-tae’s. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough to seal my fate. My gaze dropped instinctively. My mind raced, a frantic whisper echoing in my head: That was supposed to be in Mr. Kim’s bag. Oh my God, what the actual fuck? My heart pounded in my chest like a jackhammer, each beat echoing in my ears as the room seemed to narrow around me.

Seung-tae didn’t explode. The moment stretched, heavy and uncertain. A quiet beat where the air shifted, charged with something invisible but unmistakable. He stared at the glossy magazine on the floor as though it might vanish if he glared hard enough. Then came the sound, a sharp, dry crack of his fist slamming against the desk, sharp enough to make someone in the back row flinch. The magazine didn’t move, but something in the room did. Something unseen, like the atmosphere itself had recoiled.

“That’s not mine,” he said, voice low, tight, filled with something worse than anger. Something colder. His jaw clenched. A vein in his neck stood out, pulsing like it was alive. And then, almost imperceptibly, he shifted his weight and dragged the tip of his tongue across the inside of his cheek. A slow, calculated movement. His mouth tilted at one side, caught somewhere between humor and hostility.

He looked at Mr. Kim for a single, cutting second. Then turned his eyes on me.

I felt them hit me before I even saw them, like a sudden drop in pressure, like the air had gone too thin. My gaze dropped instinctively, helplessly. The heat of his attention was unbearable, like standing too close to something burning. My heart slammed against my ribs, trying to escape. And for a moment, just one fleeting, terrible moment, I imagined what he looked like in that exact second and knew I would never forget it. My legs moved before my brain could catch up, my voice barely above a whisper as I mumbled something incoherent to the teacher.

I bolted from the room, the door slamming shut behind me as I leaned against it to catch my breath. My mind was a whirlwind of panic, every worst-case scenario playing out in vivid detail. I could feel the sweat dripping down my spine, My gut clenched, tight and frozen. I knew what that look meant. I was dead. Fucking dead. There was no coming back from this. And as I stood there, my back pressed against the door, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Seung-tae’s eyes were still on me, boring into my skin, waiting for his moment to strike.

I started walking away from the door when I heard the principal’s voice, calm but firm, as he said to Seung-Tae, “Let’s go to my office so I can call your parents.” My heart sank. I needed to leave now before they came out. I didn’t dare look back, didn’t dare hesitate. I pushed through the first door I saw, my legs carrying me on autopilot. It was the girls’ bathroom, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead like a cruel omen. I ducked into the first stall, slamming the door shut behind me and leaning against it as if it could keep out the chaos I’d just witnessed.

Oh God, he’s going to blame me for this. The thought hit me like a freight train, my breath catching in my throat. All I had to do was lure Mr. Kim to the library and make it look like he was attacking me. That was the plan, let Seung-Tae take care of the rest. But I couldn’t even do that. Seung-Tae is fucking crazy. When things don’t go his way, he loses it. I remembered the last kid who dared to cross him. Seung-Tae had made Hak-Soo run over the kid’s leg breaking it, just because he’d reported him to the principal. And then that kid transferred, his family probably terrified to stay. What the actual fuck would this mean for me?

The door creaked open like a warning, and I heard Hak-Soo’s voice echoing through the empty bathroom. “I know you’re in here,” he called out, his tone sharp and menacing. “Get out here!” he yelled, the sound bouncing off the tiled walls. My breath tangled in my throat, and my heart galloped toward something I couldn’t name. I didn’t want to face him, didn’t want to hear what he had to say. But I knew I had no choice. Slowly, I stepped out of the stall, my legs trembling beneath me.

“I don’t know what happened,” I stammered, trying to keep my voice steady. “I didn’t tell anyone about the plans.” The words spilled out of me like a confession, but I could see the skepticism in Hak-Soo’s eyes. He stepped closer, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, I thought he might hit me. But instead, he smiled. The smile that sent a chill down my spine. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice dripping with false reassurance. But I knew it was a lie. Hak-Soo never smiled like that unless something was wrong, unless he was hiding something.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against my hair, and I flinched at the touch. “Seung-Tae told me to pass this message onto you,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “He wants you to meet him in the homeroom after school.” His fingers tightened slightly, a subtle reminder of the power he held over me. “And if you don’t… well, let’s just say you won’t like what happens next.” He paused, letting the threat hang in the air like a challenge. Then, with a final, lingering touch to my hair, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there in stunned silence, the weight of Seung-Tae’s wrath pressing down on me like a physical force.

I lingered in the bathroom until the last school bell rang, a desperate attempt to calm my racing heart. Each tick of the clock echoed in my mind, amplifying the dread that clung to me like a heavy fog. The thought of facing Seung-tae made my legs feel leaden as I walked toward the classroom, each step dragging me deeper into a pit of anxiety.

As I pushed the door open, the sight that met me was both familiar and unsettling. Seung-tae lounged in his chair, his legs propped casually on the desk, a smirk playing on his lips as he perused a porn magazine, the same one he’d been caught with. The moment the door clicked shut behind me, he lifted his gaze, those dark eyes glinting with mischief.

“Great! You’re here,” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with a cheerfulness that felt utterly dissonant with the tension in the air. He set the magazine aside, the pages fluttering shut, and sauntered around the desk toward me. Panic surged through me, and instinctively, I reached for the door handle, desperate to escape.

But before I could make my move, his hand enveloped mine, warm and firm, as he leaned in closer, The heat of his breath grazed my skin, sending a shiver through me. I pressed my back against the solid wood of the door, a futile barrier between us. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he murmured, his voice low and threatening. “I have Hak-soo right outside the door. If you try to run, he’ll grab you by the hair and drag you right back to me. And trust me, you wouldn’t like that.”

His words hung in the air, thick with menace, as he stared deep into my eyes, his gaze unwavering and intense. I could feel the heat radiating off him, a magnetic pull that made it hard to breathe. It was the kind of intensity that stirred unease, the kind that made my skin prickle with the instinct to flee, yet anchored me in place like a moth drawn to a flame.

“Let’s not make this difficult,” he said, his tone shifting, taking on a darker edge. “All I want is a little chat.” The way he smiled then, it was predatory, promising a predator’s delight in the hunt. My pulse quickened, pounding painfully, a wild drumbeat of fear and uncertainty.

“Seung-tae…” I started, but the words faltered on my lips as he leaned even closer, the space between us charged with a palpable tension.

“Just relax,” he whispered, a sinister lilt to his voice that sent shivers down my spine. “You’ll find I’m not as bad as you think. But running away? That would only make things worse.”

In that moment, I realized I was trapped not just by the door, but by his presence, his charm twisted into something dark and dangerous. My mind raced, searching for a way out, but all I could do was stand there, caught in the web he had woven, knowing that escape was not as simple as it seemed.

He pulled away abruptly, A cold, hunting spark flashed in his eyes.. “Go take a seat,” he ordered, his voice deceptively calm. My heart raced as I took a tentative step forward, but I barely made it three steps before his hand shot out, fingers tangling painfully in my hair. With a swift motion, he slammed me onto the teacher's desk, the wood biting into my ribs.

“You’re hurting me! Let go!” I cried out, desperate to pry his grip from my scalp, but he only tightened his hold, a sadistic smile creeping onto his face. He lifted me effortlessly, only to slam me back down again, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs.

“Wow, do you ever stop talking?” he sneered, his voice laced with a mix of irritation and amusement. I struggled to breathe, panic clawing at my throat as I continued to squirm beneath him. “Shut up,” he hissed, leaning closer, “or I’ll make you shut up.”

The threat hung heavy in the air, and the weight of it silenced me, wrapping around my throat like a noose. My heart thundered in my chest, each beat a reminder of my vulnerability. I tried to swallow, but the fear left me feeling breathless, a storm of emotions swirling inside me.

As I writhed against him, desperate to escape, I accidentally brushed up against him, feeling the heat of his body through the fabric of his pants. The moment I did, he let out a low groan, a sound that sent a jolt of shock through me. Everything in me went rigid, our bodies caught in an unexpected connection, the tension thickening around us.

“Why’d you stop?” he whined, leaning down closer, his breath warm against my ear. “That felt good.” The way he spoke was both seductive and unsettling, as if he enjoyed the power he wielded over me.

I could feel his body shift, the undeniable evidence of his response pressing against me, a stark reminder of the twisted situation I was in. My mind raced, grappling with confusion and fear, the line between repulsion and something else blurring in that moment.

“Please,” I gasped, trying to regain some semblance of control, but the words felt weak and futile against the intensity of his gaze. He moved like a predator, and I, unwittingly, had stumbled right into his snare.

“Just relax,” he murmured, his fingers still gripping my hair possessively. “You might find this is more enjoyable than you think.” There was a dark satisfaction in his tone, a thrill that sent chills down my spine. I wanted to scream, to fight back, but the fear of what he might do next held me captive, my body betraying me in ways I couldn’t understand.

With his fingers still tangled in my hair like a leash, Seung-tae’s other hand slid down the curve of my waist, slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. My body stiffened, instinct flaring, and I tried to twist away but the moment I resisted, his grip in my hair jerked tighter, sharp enough to make my eyes sting.

“Don’t,” he murmured, voice like silk over glass. “You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

His breath was hot against my cheek, calm and steady in contrast to the riot in my chest. I could feel his focus on me not just physical, but watchful, like a wolf waiting for its prey to bolt just so he could enjoy the chase. A chill ran through me as his hand crept beneath my skirt. I jerked back instinctively, reaching down to stop him, but every time I moved, he yanked harder on my hair, forcing a whimper from my lips. “Relax,” he said again, not kindly, but as a command disguised in velvet. “Or try that again and I might just call Hak-soo over bet that’d make things interesting, huh? ”

His fingers curled into the waistband of my underwear, slow and sure, and with one firm tug, he dragged them down. They slipped past my knees, crumpled at my feet, shame clinging to every thread.

I tried to breathe, tried to find logic, ground—anything. But then he flipped my skirt up and the cold air kissed bare skin, raising goosebumps that had nothing to do with temperature.

The desk creaked ominously beneath me, the hard wood biting into my stomach as he pinned me down, leaving me completely at his mercy. My heart raced, pounding against my ribs like a caged bird desperate to escape, but there was no escape from this. No escape from him.

"Such a cute little thing," he murmured, voice low and dangerous—too soft to be a threat, too sharp not to be. His breath ghosted along my neck as he leaned in, close enough to feel the heat rolling off him. "I knew you'd look good like this. Held down. Not going anywhere."

His thumb dragged slowly between my thighs, not rough—worse. Careful. Measured. A slow press of control that made my whole body tighten. I squirmed, but his other hand tightened in my hair, a quiet reminder: I wasn’t in charge here.

"You can pretend to fight it," he whispered, brushing my skin again, feather-light, mocking. "But we both know how badly you want this."

His hand released my hair slowly, almost tenderly, before sliding down my side and over my thigh, his fingers dragging with just enough pressure to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. I flinched, breath catching as he reached the soft heat between my legs, instinct making my thighs snap shut in protest.

But he only chuckled—a low, knowing sound that sent a chill down my spine.

“Oh no,” he murmured, voice rough with amusement and something darker. “We’re not doing that.”

With a cruel kind of calm, he forced my legs apart, his grip bruising, immovable—like this was always going to happen, and any fight in me was just a formality. He settled between them, deliberate and slow, like he was taking his time claiming what was already his.

“You should’ve done better,” he said, voice low, almost bored. “And you’re going to be a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

I opened my mouth to speak, to beg, but then I heard it—that sharp metallic click. My breath froze. The soft, smooth slide of a zipper followed, so casual it made my stomach turn. My blood pounded in my ears like drums.

He leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. “Don’t pretend you’re not scared. I like it better when you are.”

Then I felt him pressing against me. The head of his cock grazed my entrance, and I gasped, my whole body seizing, spine going rigid beneath him. I couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. Every muscle locked in place, strung tight with fear.

"Seung-tae, please..." I whimpered, my cheek pressed against the desk, breath catching as I tried to lift myself, but the weight of him behind me kept me pinned. My voice shook, panic creeping in, hands clutching at the fabric beneath me. I didn’t care how desperate I sounded anymore, I just wanted him to hear me. “Please… just stop.” 

I could feel the heat of him. The unrelenting press of him against my bare skin making my breath hitch and my mouth go dry. This was wrong. Every part of me screamed that it was. I didn’t want this… not like this. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will it away, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening.  “Ah,” he murmured, voice dark with satisfaction. “You look so good like this.” His free hand curled possessively around my hip. 

“So when I ask you to do something,” he whispered, his tone now hushed and dangerous. “I expect it done. Got it? ” His lips brushed the shell of my ear, the warmth of his breath a mockery of tenderness. He didn’t wait. Just pushed forward, rough and unapologetic, tearing the breath from my lungs, forcing a broken gasp from my throat as my body jerked against the desk, the impact echoing louder than I expected. Pain bloomed sharp at first, then dulled into something molten and thick, twisting low in my belly.

"Shhh, jagiya," he cooed, as if soothing a frightened animal—even as he held me in place with merciless control. “You always fight me like this. But we both know how much you love it.” His voice was silk wrapped around steel, intimate in a way that made my skin crawl and shiver all at once. He didn’t move right away. Just stayed buried deep inside me, letting the silence stretch like a blade between us, like he wanted me to feel every inch of him… and every inch of the power I had just handed over.

I writhed beneath Seung-tae, breath stuttering as I tried to adjust to the overwhelming stretch of him. A trembling whimper escaped you. He was too much. Too deep. It felt like he was carving out a space inside me that only he could fill. “That's it,” he murmured, voice low and full of wicked satisfaction. “You're mine. Every inch of you—mine to take, mine to keep.”

His hand slid up my back, possessive and slow, anchoring me as if daring me to move. “You feel that?” he whispered near my ear, breath hot. “No one else will ever touch you like this. No one else will even come close.”

Seung-tae's hand slid up my spine, his fingers splaying across my shoulder blades as he pinned my chest down against the desk with ruthless control. His hips pressed against my ass, the rough fabric of his pants a stark contrast to your bare, overheated skin. “You're only making it harder,” he muttered, tightening his grip. "Stop lying to yourself. You can feel it too, can't you? The way your body opens for me, like it was made for me?" He punctuated his words with a slow, deliberate thrust, driving himself even deeper inside me. The desk creaked beneath us, the sound obscenely loud in the charged silence of the classroom. I bit my lip hard, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to spill out, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing my pleasure.

But my body betrayed me, a shudder running through me as a rush of wet heat flooded my core. Seung-tae groaned, a low, guttural sound of satisfaction. "That's it," he growled, his hips beginning to move with a slow, steady rhythm. "You're so fucking tight. Such a perfect little fit."

He set a brutal pace, the desk slamming against the ground with each powerful thrust. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, mingling with Seung-tae's harsh breathing and the desperate, stifled noises spilling from my throat. Tears stung my eyes as I tried to deny the building pleasure, the traitorous ache of arousal that grew stronger with each passing second.

"Admit it," Seung-tae demanded, his voice a dark purr in my ear. "Admit how much you love this. How much you need this." His hand slid around to my breast, kneading the soft flesh, his thumb and forefinger finding and pinching your nipple through the thin fabric of my shirt. “What’s the matter?”

"Seung-tae, please—" My voice broke as his hips snapped forward, forcing a scream from my throat when he hit that spot. My fingers scrambled against the polished wood of the teacher’s desk, my cheek smeared against a stray worksheet, the ink blurring from my tears. 

"There she is," Seung-tae purred, his palm smoothing possessively over the small of my back. "That pretty little moan. Just for me." His fingers tangled in my hair, yanking my head back just enough to hear the choked sob that followed. "Say thank you." I whimpered, shaking my head, but he tsked, thrusting deeper until my body bowed helplessly into his. "Thank you," I gasped. "Good girl." His praise dripped like honey, sickly sweet and laced with venom. "See how easy it is when you behave?"

I didn’t say anything. My voice felt lost somewhere in the knot of my chest, tangled with everything I was feeling and trying not to feel. My body moved on its own, and I hated how easy it was. I felt it building, quiet at first, like a tremor under skin but then rising, sharp and urgent. I drew in shallow gasps, my mind too fogged to focus. I was too aware of everything: the press of his chest, the tension in my spine. All I could hear was his breathing, rough and uneven, the low grunts and moans against my ear as he moved. And then, in a voice that sent something hot and wicked curling down my spine, he whispered, “You were made for this, weren’t you? To be taken like this, used until you forget your own name.” 

Maybe that was the last bit of control I hadn’t already given away. In an instant, he drove into me, deep, brutal and the scream that ripped out of me wasn’t just from pain or pleasure. It was from everything I’d buried, everything I couldn’t hide anymore. The moment my scream tore through the classroom. The door creaked open, and there he was—Hak-soo, leaning casually against the frame, a grin tugging at his lips like he already knew what was was happening. his gaze locked onto me: bent over the teacher’s desk, skirt shoved up around my waist, Seung-tae’s hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise.

Seung-tae didn’t even pause.

"Get the fuck out," he said calmly, rolling his hips deeper into me, forcing another broken sound from my throat. His voice was pleasant, almost conversational—if not for the way his fingers dug into my skin like a warning. Hak-soo didn’t move. His eyes locked onto mine, heavy with something feral and unspoken. A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips, oh God, my stomach twisted as I caught the unmistakable bulge pressing against the front of his uniform pants. He wasn’t hiding it. If anything, he wanted me to see. 

Seung-tae noticed too.

"Oh." A slow, cruel smile curled his lips. He leaned down, lips brushing my ear as he thrust harder, deliberately hitting that spot again. I sobbed, nails scraping the desk. "Looks like our Hak-soo likes watching." His hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back so I had to meet Hak-soo’s wide, guilty stare. "Should we let him stay, jagiya? Let him see how well you take me?"

I shook my head frantically, humiliation burning through me. Seung-tae chuckled, pressing a kiss to my temple like I was something precious. "Good girl," he purred. "You’re right. I don’t share." His gaze flicked back to Hak-soo, all false politeness. "Close the door on your way out. And if I catch you staring at what’s mine again…" He trailed off, letting the threat hang in the air.

Hak-soo backed away slowly, jaw clenched, eyes burning into mine like he was being torn in two. He didn’t want to leave—I could see it in the way his fingers twitched at his sides, in the way he paused in the doorway before finally closing the door behind him. Seung-tae clicked his tongue, easing out of me with a slow, deliberate drag—only to slam back in, tearing a cry from my throat. “Now,” he murmured, voice like honey laced with venom, “where were we?”

The silence of the classroom swallowed us again, broken only by my ragged breaths and the slick, obscene rhythm of his thrusts. The air was heavy, thick with heat and something darker. "Look at you," he murmured, dragging his teeth along the shell of my ear as his hips snapped forward, forcing another whimper from my throat. “Fuck, you’re made just for me — tight and everything.” 

His grip on my hips tightened, fingers pressing into bruises as he fucked me harder, deeper, his breath hot against my neck. "You gonna come for me, jagiya? Gonna let me feel you squeeze around my cock like the greedy little thing you are?" I shook my head, but my body betrayed me, trembling on the edge already. Seung-tae chuckled, low and dark, his hand sliding around to press against my clit, rubbing rough circles that had me arching back against him.

"Liar," he purred. "I can feel you shaking. You’re close, aren’t you?" I bit my lip, trying to stifle the moan building in my chest, but Seung-tae yanked my hair, forcing my head back. "No. I want to hear you." And then he thrust up at just the right angle, and I shattered, a broken cry tearing from my lips as my body clamped around him. Seung-tae groaned, his rhythm faltering for the first time, his fingers digging into my skin as he chased his own release. "Fuck—take it, take it—" His voice was ragged, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep and came with a low, shuddering growl, filling me up until I could feel the heat of him spilling inside.

For a moment, neither of us moved. Then Seung-tae exhaled, pressing a kiss to the back of my neck before slowly pulling out. I whimpered at the loss, my legs trembling as his cum dripped down my thighs. Seung-tae dent down to slide my panties back up, his fingers lingering between my legs, smearing his release against my skin. "There," he murmured, almost sweetly. "Something to remember me by."

He stepped back, adjusting his pants with effortless grace before turning to me. I forced my shaking legs to straighten, gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles turned white. My skirt was still hiked up around my waist, marks on my thighs from where Seung-tae’s fingers had dug in too hard. I could feel his cum cooling between my legs, sticky and shameful, as I tugged the fabric back into place with unsteady hands.

Seung-tae watched me from the doorway, arms crossed, his dark eyes tracking every flinch, every hitched breath I tried and failed to suppress. His lips curled when I stumbled, my thighs still weak from being forced open so wide. "Careful," he murmured, voice dripping with false concern. "Wouldn’t want you to fall." I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

Seung-tae pushed off the door-frame, closing the distance between us in two lazy strides. His fingers brushed my cheek before curling into my hair and yanking my head back. "Next time," he whispered, his breath warm against my lips, "you’ll do what I told you to do. Won’t you?" It wasn’t a question. I swallowed hard, my pulse fluttering under his grip. "...Yes." He smiled before releasing me with a pat to my cheek, like I was nothing more than a pet who’d finally learned its lesson. "Good girl." 

Then he turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him. I waited until the echo of his footsteps and Hak-soo’s low voice murmuring something I couldn’t make out faded down the hall before my knees finally gave out, sliding down against the desk with a choked sob. My body ached, my skin still warm where he’d touched me, the faintest trace of his presence lingering unseen but impossible to ignore.