#dark whc2

The alley wasn’t a shortcut you usually took, but today, running late, its shadows seemed a small price to pay. The world had narrowed to the glow of your phone screen and the quick tap of your thumbs, canceling out the distant city hum.

You didn't see the shadows first. You felt them.

The light dimmed, the air grew still, and a primal chill, cold and sharp, shot down your spine. You looked up.

Three figures blocked the narrow passageway, silhouetted against the weak light at the alley's end. Your breath hitched. In the center, the glint of wire-frame glasses over a familiar, cruel smirk. Geum Seongje. The name echoed in your mind like a death knell. Notorious wasn't the word for it; he was a legend of pain, a boy who sculpted his reputation from the bruises of others. And he held a vendetta against your brother that was as deep as it was violent.

Your Instinct screamed: Go back.Your feet, clumsy with sudden fear, obeyed. You spun on your heel, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

He was faster. A blur of motion, and he was there, his tall frame filling your path forward, his smile a predator's silent snarl. You tried to dart to the side, a trapped animal seeking an exit that didn't exist. His friends shifted, a wall of muscle and malice, cutting off every escape route.

"Please," you managed, the word a dry scrape in your throat. You refused to meet his eyes, staring instead at a crack in the pavement. "Just let me pass."

A low, humorless laugh escaped him. He leaned in, invading your space, the scent of cologne and cigarettes clinging to him. "Aren't you Yeon Sieun's little sister?" he purred, his voice deceptively soft. You don't have to answer. He already knew you're. He's been following you for weeks. Looking for a chance to get you alone. Today luck was on his side. You walked into his trap willingly. It's amusing. For how long has followed you, now he knows a lot about your personal life. It's scary.

You finally lifted your gaze, letting all the hatred and terror you felt burn in your eyes.

He recoiled slightly, not in fear, but in recognition. "There it is," he hissed, his pleasant mask dissolving into raw venom. "That exact same look. The one your bastard brother gives me. Like I'm something he scraped off his shoe."

"Whatever problem you have with Sieun, take it up with him," you said, forcing a strength into your voice that you didn't feel. It wavered, betraying you.

"Oh, but you are the problem, sweetheart," he whispered, taking a deliberate step forward. You stumbled back until a cold, rough brick bit into your shoulder blades. He caged you in, an arm on either side, his body a prison. "You're the perfect solution."

You shoved against his chest. It was like pushing a stone wall. Amusement glittered in his eyes.

"Or else what?" he mocked, his laugh echoing in the tight space. "What exactly will you do? Last time I saw your precious brother, he stabbed my foot. Like a rabid animal. Is it a family trait?"

"He wouldn't have had to if you weren't a monster," you spat, the words flying out before sense could stop them.

The amusement vanished. His face went terrifyingly blank. The one thing Geum Seongje could not abide was an insult, least of all from a girl. 

"Is that why?" he sneered, the smirk returning, uglier now. "Because I rearranged your boyfriend hyuntak's face? That got to you, didn't it?"

"He's not my boyfriend!" The denial was too quick, too heated.

His grin widened, a shark seeing blood in the water. He knew. He knew everything. The unspoken thing between you and hyuntak was just another weapon in his hands.

His gaze turned appraising, lewd. "So what does he see in you, huh?" he mused, his hand snaking out to brush your hip. His thumb pressed against the bone, a possessive, violating circle. "This?"

Your body moved on its own. A crack of sound ripped through the alley as your palm connected with his cheek. The force of it stung your hand. A thin, red line welled up on his cheekbone where your nail had caught him.

A stunned silence fell. One of his lackeys sucked in a sharp breath. "Ah, shit, man..."

Seongje slowly turned his head back to you. The look in his eyes was nothing human. It was void, black and bottomless, a pit where empathy went to die. Your blood turned to ice. What have you done? The realization hit you.

Then, he chuckled. A low, disbelieving sound that grew into a full, manic laugh. He touched the cut, looked at the spot of blood on his fingertip, and laughed harder, the sound unhinged and echoing off the bricks.

He's insane.The thought was a clear, cold certainty.

You were frozen, every muscle locked in pure terror. The part of your brain screaming RUN was silenced by the primal part that knew any movement would trigger the predator.

"You..." he finally said, his laughter dying into a dangerous whisper. "You are definitely his sister. You just declared war on me. Was that your intention?"

Tears finally spilled over. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean—"

"Shhh," he cut you off, his voice a grotesque parody of comfort. He grabbed your face, his fingers digging into your jaw. "No apologies. I like a fighter. I'll even make it worth your while. Let's go. We're going to revisit history."

His friends' grips on your arms were iron-clad. There was no struggle left in you, just a numb, trembling horror as they marched you forward.

He stood tall on the rooftop,  The wind whipped at his jacket as he lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating the cold satisfaction on his face. He took a long, slow drag, then blew the smoke out in a thin, deliberate stream. You were shoved from behind, your knees scraping violently against the rough, gritty concrete as you fell.

He looked down at you, a predator examining its captured prey. The sheer terror on your face seemed to be a drug to him, making his eyes glitter with a perverse thrill. He knelt beside you, his presence sucking all the warmth from the air.

"Do you know what place this is?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm. You could only manage a weak, terrified shake of your head, your breath catching in ragged sobs.

"This is where I put your boyfriend and that fool Juntae in the dirt. And it's where your brother ambushed me like a coward." The memory twisted his features into a snarl. "Now, you're going to help me balance the scales."

He took a final, deep drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing a fierce, angry orange. His eyes locked on yours, holding you in place more effectively than any physical restraint. There was a moment of suspended silence, broken only by the wind and your frantic heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Then his hand moved.

It was too fast to avoid. His fingers clamped around your wrist like a steel manacle, his grip brutal and unyielding. You gasped, trying to pull back, but it was useless. You saw the glowing tip descend—a tiny, approaching sun promising nothing but pain.

You squeezed your eyes shut a second before it made contact.

The pain was instantaneous and blinding. A sharp, sizzling agony that shot straight up your arm and into your brain, white-hot and consuming. A choked scream was torn from your throat, strangled and raw. You could smell it—the acrid, horrifying scent of your own skin and flesh burning. He held it there, applying pressure, ensuring the mark would be permanent.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled the cigarette away. The agony didn't subside; it throbbed in nauseating waves. Tears streamed down your face uncontrollably as you stared at the new, vicious mark on your hand. The skin was an angry, blistering red, already forming a perfect, circular brand.

He stood up, looking down at his work with a detached, clinical satisfaction. He took another casual drag from the same cigarette, the act itself a further violation.

"I've never hit a girl," he mused, almost to himself, his voice calm as if he were discussing the weather. He glanced at his friends, a silent, ugly communication passing between them. Their identical hungry looks sent a new, deeper dread coiling like a serpent in your stomach. This physical pain was only the opening act.

"Maybe I should do something else," he said, his canines showing in a wicked smirk.

"Please," you begged, your voice a broken thing. You brought your hands together in a pathetic prayer, the motion making the fresh burn scream in protest. "Please, let me go. I'm sorry. I won't tell anyone, I swear! Just let me go."

He watched you, his head tilted. The emotionless mask was back. He'd seen boys beg, seen them cry. But this... a girl on her knees, branded and begging for him? It was a new, potent kind of power, and it made his eyes shine with dark, addictive pleasure. Your apologies were just meaningless noise. They were a currency that held no value in his world.

You knew, with a certainty that was soul-crushing, that the burning was just the beginning. A desperate, final surge of adrenaline shot through you. You scrambled to your feet on shaking, wounded legs and lunged for the door.

It was a futile, hopeless act. His friends were already there, smirking, enjoying the show.

You felt him before you heard him, his hot breath on the nape of your neck as his hand closed around your burned wrist, yanking you back. A white-hot bolt of fresh agony exploded from the wound, and you cried out.

"You just don't learn, do you?" His whisper was the last thing you heard before the world dissolved into pure, unadulterated panic.

The air left your lungs in a sharp, punched-out gasp as your back slammed against the unforgiving concrete. The impact shuddered through your bones, but it was a dull ache compared to the white-hot inferno that erupted in your hand.

He was on you in an instant, his weight pinning you down. A cruel, satisfied smirk twisted his features as he saw the fresh tears spring to your eyes—tears you couldn't hold back. This was what he wanted. This raw, unfiltered proof of his power over you.

"Shhh," he cooed, the sound a grotesque parody of comfort. "It's just a little pain. You can take it. You're Sieun's sister, after all."

His fingers, strong and unyielding, wrapped around your wrist again, deliberately positioning themselves over the fresh, blistering burn. He didn't just hold it; he applied pressure, grinding the ruined nerves against the bone beneath. A silent scream locked in your throat, your vision swimming at the edges, threatening to dissolve into static. The world narrowed to that single, excruciating point of contact.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, his voice a low, intimate venom. "This is nothing compared to what your brother did to me. But don't worry. We're just getting started. I'm going to make sure you understand every single thing he owes me."

He released the pressure for a second, only to bring his other hand up, his thumb stroking almost thoughtfully over the angry, wounded skin. The contrast between the gentle motion and the searing agony it caused was its own special kind of madness.

"You're going to be my favorite lesson," he whispered.

"Please," you whispered, the word a broken thing meant for the figure straddling your waist. His weight was a prison, crushing the air from your lungs. "I have nothing to do with this."

Tears carved hot paths through the dirt on your cheeks, a futile offering of surrender. But he didn't sympathize. He watched them fall as if studying a fascinating chemical reaction, his eyes alight with a cold, clinical interest. Your pain wasn't a plea for mercy; it was the main event. A dark, thrilling excitement radiated from him, and a low chuckle rumbled from his chest. From the periphery, his friends echoed the sound, a chorus of hyenas enjoying the hunt.

Your suffering was their entertainment.

A fresh wave of sobs wracked your body, this one born of a deeper, more profound terror than the physical pain. You were completely and utterly at their mercy.

"Hey," Seongje's voice cut through your cries, sharp and commanding. He didn't take his eyes off you. "Get the camera. I want to send Sieun a surprise gift."

The blood in your veins turned to ice. "No," you breathed, the word barely audible. You shook your head wildly, a frantic, desperate denial. "No, please, don't—"

One of his lackeys fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a smartphone. The screen lit up, its cold glow a stark contrast to the deepening twilight. He swiped and tapped, then aimed the lens at you, a modern-day voyeur to your  nightmare.

Seongje shifted his weight, leaning in closer, his face filling your vision. He used his free hand to grab your injured wrist again, not with crushing force this time, but with a possessive hold, deliberately displaying the angry, blistering burn for the camera.

"Smile for your brother," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. He gave your wrist a slight, torturous twist, and a broken whimper escaped your lips. The sound seemed to please him immensely. "Let him see what happens when he messes with me. Let him see how pretty his little sister looks when she's crying for me."

The camera's red recording light was a malevolent eye, capturing every shuddering breath, every tear, every flicker of utter humiliation on your face. It was a violation worse than the burn, worse than the weight pinning you down. This moment of absolute powerlessness was being preserved, packaged, and sent to the one person you desperately wanted to protect from this very truth.

Seongje’s smirk was a thing of pure evil, his canines sharp and predatory in the dim light. He had won. He wasn't just hurting you; he was immortalizing it, ensuring your brother's torment would be endless. And you were the star of the show.

Your sobs had quieted into ragged, hiccupping breaths, the kind that hurt your chest. You were hollowed out, a shell of pure shame.

But it wasn't enough. Seongje watched the tears stream down your temples and into your hair, and the smirk on his face was thoughtful, not satisfied. He’d captured the pain, the fear. But he hadn't captured the complete and total breaking he craved.

“Time for a real show.” You felt his finger unbuttoning your shirt. The look of real fear on your face was raw. 

His friends laughed like hyenas at your reaction.

“No! Let go of me!” You screamed. The recording light of the phone felt like a brand, searing into your soul even deeper than the cigarette had into your skin.

You tried to push him away but he's too strong. You kept trying to push him away, even your burning hand still hurts. Getting sick of your weak attempts, he backhanded you. His slap has too much strength. Your ear starts ringing as you fell back down with hopelessness. “Fuck you're so annoying.” You closed your eyes in disgust instead of unbuttoning your shirt,he began to rip your shirt open.

“That's much better and easier.”

You gasped as he tore your bra apart. Shame and humiliation filled your body. Their hungry eyes on your now bare chest wants to make yourself disappear. You quickly place your arm around your chest, a weak attempt to protect your dignity. 

“No need to hide yourself, sweetheart. They look sexier than I imagined. No wonder hyuntak followed you like a lost puppy. And your brother is so protective of you.” He pushed your wrists above your head. Gesturing one of his goons to hold your wrists. So he could do whatever he wanted to do with you without facing any struggle. 

You cried out in disgust upon hearing those names and his words. He's adamant on getting revenge. You don't think you'll ever get over this trauma. You have never felt such pain before, mentally or physically.

His large hand palmed your breast then he pinched your nipple roughly making you moan in pain. “shit look at the camera. I'm gonna send this video to sieun. To remind him of his.place.” you don't know what to cry at . His mean pinches on your breasts or at his threats. 

“You're such a slut. Look at you. Arching your back. You want this. Don't you?” He slapped your cheek, not too hard but hard enough to sting. He took off his glasses and set them aside. Looking at his bare eyes was even more terrifying. Without the frames to soften his features, his gaze was naked and sharp,Now it felt like his glasses had been acting as a barrier.This was the real Geum Seongje, utterly unmediated and unrestrained.

He leaned down to your neck, and you squirmed, trapped with nowhere to go. His lips and tongue left a trail of marks on your bare skin, licking and sucking with deliberate insistence. You writhed beneath him, unable to escape as he made sure every mark lingered.

“Keep squirming. It's only going to make me harder. “The realization hit you. That's why he's not stopping you from squirming. You stop trying. If it’s fulfilling his sick fantasy, you won't do it again. 

His lips lingered against your skin, teasing and tasting, sending shivers down your spine. Every brush of his tongue made your breaths hitch, your fingers digging into the palm as warmth pooled deeper inside you. You tried to steady yourself, tried to resist—but his touch was relentless, coaxing every shiver and moan from your body. You hate your body for betraying you. 

“Now let's get to the best part..” he pulled himself up as he flipped your skirt up and slid your panties down. Cold air hits your warm core. 

The fight flared in you again, a desperate, last-ditch surge of energy. You kicked wildly, your legs straining against nothing but air, while your wrists remained cruelly imprisoned above your head.

"No more, please... I can't.." The words tumbled out between sobs as you shook your head. What were you even doing? Begging for mercy from Geum Seongje was like begging for light from a black hole.

The way he looked down at you was amused, his dark eyes alight with a silent laugh at your expense. "Please, no more..." you whispered, but the plea only seemed to deepen his entertainment.

The sound of him unbuckling his belt was torture to your ears. You still couldn't believe it was happening.He pulled himself closer, already half-hard, his length pressing insistently. You looked away, your pulse quickening. He stroked himself slowly, then met your gaze, eyes dark with desire.. He smirks at you splayed on the dirty ground underneath him. Same ground where yeon sieun, your brother has beaten him. He's gonna enjoy every fucking second of this. This is gonna be his favourite revenge. 

He rubs his cock against your wet folds. “Fuck you act like you don't like this. But you're soaking wet down there.” He hissed as he rutted himself against your core. His sick friends watched in joy. As you saw in your peripheral vision, the guy with the phone recording this whole ordeal moved closer. You have hit a new, soul crushing low.

It was a futile attempt but you still tried closing your legs. You're scared. Is he really gonna do this? You don't think you can take him. It's truly terrifying..

”Stop fighting already.” He gripped your soft thighs with his strong, calloused hands—hardened from years of fighting.

He looked at you for a while with his darkened eyes. From how scared you have got in a span of seconds—in other words just upon seeing his cock. Does that mean you're a virgin? You haven't started dating that jerk, hyuntak yet. You don't look the type to hook up either. You're definitely a virgin. 

Seongje couldn't stop smiling from ear to ear. 

“Are you a virgin?” He squished your cheeks between his hands, a sick satisfied smile appearing on his face. You don't need to answer. He could already tell from your reaction. You already got wet from just a few touches. He should have realized it earlier. 

“I'm going to fucking ruin you.” He whispered into your ear. You let out choked sobs along with “Please no.”

He slammed into your entrance. You scream but he placed his large hand against your mouth to silence you. “Shut the fuck up. I'm just giving you what you want.”

Each drag and rut into your heat is torture. Until he finds a steady rhythm against your tight walls. “Ah ah.” You moan, he finally removes his hand from your mouth. Those sounds leave your mouth unconsciously. 

“Yeah, let me hear those sweet sounds.” He grunts as he defiles your virgin walls. 

This is the greatest revenge he has taken. Now he has ruined you for hyuntak. Everytime that bastard would touch you, he would be reminded of seongje. He's going to mark you forever. Now seongje is going to be part of your life forever.

“Knew you'd like it, slut.” He chuckled, speeding up his pace. Your helpless cries fueled him even more. He slapped your ass on occasions. Just to see your hips jump to meet his. 

You wish you could just blank out, pretend none of this was happening. But you can’t. What he said wasn’t an empty threat—it was the truth. No one would ever look at you the same way again. You don’t want that. You can’t let that happen. And he has proof—video proof. He’s sick, twisted in ways you never imagined. Why on earth did your brother and his friends have to pick a fight with him? He isn’t just some mean bully. He’s something far, far worse.

He spanks you as he continues bullying his cock into you. You fucking hate yourself for being weak and hate him even more for doing this to you. He leaned to lick salty tears trickling down your cheek. “So tasty..” he groans, his thrusts never stopping. 

“Say thank you seongje for taking my virginity. “You shook your head violently. He did all kinds of humiliating things to you. If that wasn't enough, he wants you to say this as well. But you won't. 

“Say it whore.” You loudly gasp when he set fast pace. “Say it to the camera.” He grabs a fistful of your hair and makes you face the camera properly. “Please slow down..Ah it hurts. “ you cried out. 

“Just the magic word, Princess.” He whispered into your ear. His hot breath sends shivers down your spine. You can't bring yourself to say those words. It's plain humiliation. But that's exactly what he wants from you. 

“Thank..you..” you stumbled upon your word due to his unforgiving thrusts. “Yeah, you can do it, Princess.” His voice is deceptively soft yet his pace is anything but soft. 

“for taking my virginity..” As soon as those words leave your mouth. You feel sick to your stomach. His eyes roll over white as he hears your words, it took all of his self control to not cum in that instant. “Aren't you a smart slut?”  He whispers into your ear as he feels as his balls begin to tighten.  

“I'm the owner of this pussy now.” He fucks into until he blows his load. Your walls fill with white and you shudder from the contrast of your freezing body being stuffed full of his creamy white cum. He fucks it into you, deeply. And unfortunately you don't have energy to object. All you can do is take it. 

Strings of curses spilled out of his mouth, he pulled himself out of you. He didn't plan on loading his cum inside of you, it happened accidentally. But he didn't regret it at all. He puts himself back in pants. “Fuck that was amazing.” He praised , looking at your helpless form as he zipped his pants up. 

He keeps looking at you with an unreadable expression. You have no fight left in you. His friend let you go from above. You didn't do anything. You kept laying on dirty ground, waiting for them to leave. The guy who was recording the whole thing turned off his camera with a salsifying look. Seongje knelt beside to pick up his glasses and you flinched. He smirks at your reaction. He loves the fear. He lives on it. 

“No need to be scared, kitten. I was just picking up my glasses.” You quickly covered your bare chest with your arms. 

But seongje suddenly has a hunger for more. Looking at your teary eyes,  quivering lips and tattered clothes. Without thinking twice, he smashes his lips against yours. You kept your lips sealed not wanting to give him satisfaction. But he easily pinches your nipples which causes you to let out gasp. He easily shoves his tongue inside your mouth. The kiss was hungry and rough. All teeth and bites. No softness. 

His two goons exchange looks between themselves. But didn't dare to say anything. 

“I’ll make sure to send that video of ours to your brother Yeon Sieun—and to your lover, Gotak.” With that, he turned around and disappeared through the door.

With that, they left. Alone in the cold, you curled up on the cold floor, your sobs breaking through the silence as you cried to yourself.

[♡].

Hyuntak and Sieun were hanging out along with Baku and juntae when only their phones buzzed. At first, it seemed like nothing unusual — until they opened the message. Their stomachs dropped. On the screen was a horrific video, unmistakable in its cruelty.

It was you.

For a few seconds, neither could breathe. Then the reality set in, and panic jolted them into motion. They rushed toward the rooftop.

The first thing Sieun saw was your bag, tossed carelessly aside. Then your phone, lying cracked on the concrete. His chest tightened, each step heavier than the last until his eyes finally landed on you.

You were slumped against the wall, barely dressed, your frame trembling and broken. 

Your innocence was never meant to be part of their fight — yet it was stolen because of your brother and his friend’s vendetta.

Sieun’s heart shattered. He had always known Seongje was a monster, but  never — did he think he would go this far.

Behind him, Hyuntak and the others averted their eyes, unable to face the sight. Shame laced their murmurs as they whispered how sick Seongje truly was.

Slowly, Sieun stepped forward. His hands shook as he pulled off his hoodie and draped it gently over your shoulders, shielding you as best he could.

“Can you walk?” he asked, his voice raw, almost breaking. Guilt weighed down every syllable. In his mind, he was the reason this nightmare had happened.

“Y/N…” he murmured again, cupping your cheek with trembling fingers. He bit his lip hard, holding back the sob threatening to escape. How could Seongje do this to his sister?

You gave the faintest nod, though your strength was gone. Still, Sieun slipped his arm around you, steadying you, bearing your weight so you could stand.

[♡]

Sieun couldn’t look at you without feeling his chest cave in.

Every sound that startled you  a dropped spoon, a slammed locker, a door creaking too loud — was another knife in his gut. He noticed how you froze at the sight of fire, how you’d push away meals if they’d been cooked on the stove, your breath catching in panic at the smallest flame.

He walked you everywhere. To class. To the store. You were never alone, because Sieun couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you vulnerable again. His friends stopped asking him to hang out; he barely answered messages anymore. The easy laughter and teasing between siblings had been replaced with a silence so heavy it suffocated him.

He would lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, whispering apologies into the dark. If only he had left Seongje alone. If only he hadn’t fought. If only…

But time didn’t bend backward. It only pressed the weight of his mistakes deeper into his chest.

You hated mirrors now. Your reflection only showed a stranger — a pale face, hollow eyes, a girl who jumped at shadows. The sunshine you once carried had bled out, leaving you brittle and empty.

Hyuntak tried to talk to you once. His voice was soft, careful, but just the sight of him shattered you. All you could think of was that video, the knowledge that he must have seen even a glimpse of your humiliation. The shame clawed up your throat until you couldn’t breathe. You turned away, choking on sobs, unable to meet his eyes.

But the worst reminder was on your own body. The angry, circular scar on your wrist burned every time you looked at it. It will never let you forget. No amount of sleeves or bracelets could erase the memory of that searing pain, of flesh sizzling under his grip. Sometimes, when you closed your eyes, you swore you could still smell it — that acrid, sickening scent of skin burning.

At night, the nightmares came. You woke with your throat raw, screaming into the pillow. Sometimes you clawed at your own skin, desperate to erase the brand he’d left behind. And always, no matter how hard you tried, you saw the glow of that cigarette, the smirk on Seongje’s face, the sound of your own voice begging.

[♡]

Far away, in the shadows of his room, Geum Seongje sat with his phone. The video played in silence, the screen glow painting his cruel smile in ghostly light. He watched it religiously, not with shame, but with satisfaction — his private proof of victory.

Each replay fed the fire inside him, each tear of yours captured in pixels a drug he couldn’t get enough of. He's the one who took your virginity. You belong to him now. He owns you. To him, it wasn’t over. It was just the beginning. 

He leaned back, exhaling a slow breath, already dreaming of the next time. As he murmured your name dreamily.