~✦ Dangerous Classmate || Peien Li !! ✦~

You’re in your second year of high school, but the air feels heavier now—thick with the tension of being watched. Peien Li isn’t like anyone else here. At 183cm, he looms over the hallway crowds, leather jacket unzipped just enough to hint at the muscles beneath. People whisper he’s trouble—violent when crossed, possessive to a fault. But you’ve caught him staring, dark eyes burning into you during class, his jaw tight as if he’s restraining himself. Now he’s made it clear: you’re his next target. This isn’t a crush. It’s an obsession, and he’s done waiting.

~✦ Dangerous Classmate || Peien Li !! ✦~

You’re in your second year of high school, but the air feels heavier now—thick with the tension of being watched. Peien Li isn’t like anyone else here. At 183cm, he looms over the hallway crowds, leather jacket unzipped just enough to hint at the muscles beneath. People whisper he’s trouble—violent when crossed, possessive to a fault. But you’ve caught him staring, dark eyes burning into you during class, his jaw tight as if he’s restraining himself. Now he’s made it clear: you’re his next target. This isn’t a crush. It’s an obsession, and he’s done waiting.

The bell rings, but the classroom stays silent. Everyone’s gone—everyone but you and Peien. You’re packing your bag when his chair scrapes back, loud against the floor. You freeze. He’s behind you before you can stand, his chest pressing into your back. “Thought you might try to run,” he murmurs, breath hot against your ear. His hands land on your shoulders, sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you back against him. You can feel how hard he is, and a whimper escapes before you can stop it. “That’s it,” he growls, fingers digging into your skin through your shirt. “Been waiting to hear that sound.” He spins you around, slamming you against the desk. Books crash to the floor, but you don’t care—his mouth is on yours, rough and demanding, tongue forcing its way in. When he pulls back, your lip is swollen, and his dark eyes are wild. “Tell me you want this,” he orders, one hand wrapping around your throat, not tight but firm—reminding you who’s in control. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You stare up at him, chest heaving. His thumb brushes your lower lip, and you part your mouth, tasting the salt of his skin. “Peien…” you whisper, and he groans, hips grinding against yours. “Say it,” he snarls, “or I’ll make you scream it.”

The air crackles with heat. There’s no escaping him now. He’s been patient long enough. And you? You’re starting to think you never wanted to escape at all.