Part 3 - Cherry Coke & Cigarettes

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“Glass Cage: Part |||– The Lock and the Longing”

Geum Seong-je x fem!reader | dark romance, obsession, soft tension, quiet ache

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It’s the only night he doesn’t come.

You wait.

Eyes wide open, curled in the soft nest of blankets and expensive sheets in the basement room — but the door doesn’t open. The chair remains empty. No quiet breathing from the corner. No watching. No warmth.

You stare into the dark, heart drumming.

He’s never missed a night.

He always sits in that chair like a silent guardian — a king keeping vigil over the only thing in his world he wants to protect.

But not tonight.

You wait another hour.

Nothing.

At first, it feels like abandonment. Then something else entirely.

Hunger.

Not for food. Not for air. For him. His presence. His closeness. His voice in the dark.

You slide out of bed barefoot, floor cool under your toes. You go to the door. It’s locked, of course — the same way it’s always been when he leaves at night.

But he forgot something this time.

You’re not scared anymore.

You want to find him.

You go to the vanity drawer. Dig under the perfume bottles and silk ribbons until you find it — the thin hairpin he tucked there last week when brushing your hair. You twist it once, twice — remember something you saw in a movie once.

Click.

The lock gives.

Your breath catches.

You push the door open slowly. The upstairs hallway stretches out like a black river, long and quiet and full of shadows. You step out, careful. Listening. Not a sound.

Not even him.

You move barefoot through the corridor.

First room — empty. Just storage. Dusty linens, untouched.

Second — a study. Neat rows of books. Closed curtains.

Third — locked.

Fourth — another guest room. Clean, unused.

Then the last one. At the very end of the hall.

His room.

You feel it before you even open the door. It smells like him. That warm, masculine scent — clean soap, leather, cedar, and something sharp beneath it. You press your palm to the door, breath trembling.

Then push.

It opens with a soft creak.

The room is dark, but the curtains are cracked just enough to let moonlight spill across the floor. You see the edge of the bed first. Huge. Unmade.

And then — him.

Geum Seong-je.

Asleep on his back, one arm resting over his stomach, the other turned palm-up on the sheets beside him. His hair is slightly messy, lips parted, chest rising and falling under a thin black shirt.

You freeze.

You’ve never seen him like this — unguarded.

He looks so young. So tired.

So… human.

Something inside your chest twists.

You step forward. Slowly. Silently. The floor doesn’t creak under your weight. You approach the bed like it’s an altar and he’s the god that owns you.

You slip beneath the covers.

His body shifts instinctively, heat radiating off him like fire. You slide close, curl against him — your cheek resting right over his heart.

The moment you touch him, he stiffens.

Then —

“…You picked the lock?”

His voice is quiet. Half-awake.

You don’t answer right away.

You only whisper, “I couldn’t sleep without you.”

A beat.

Then a sigh leaves his chest — long and low and defeated.

His arm curls around you without resistance, pulling you flush against him. Your legs tangle. Your fingers curl into the hem of his shirt. He presses his face into your hair.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he murmurs.

“You said I was never a prisoner,” you breathe.

He doesn’t respond.

But he holds you tighter.

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Later that night, you shift in your sleep and feel him watching you.

Not from the chair.

But from inches away.

His eyes are open now. Awake. Silent.

Like he still can’t believe you chose this.

Like he doesn’t know how to survive the ache you’ve carved into his ribs.

His voice barely breaks the dark.

“You’re mine,” he whispers.

And you, still half-asleep, curl deeper into his chest and murmur, “I was always yours.”

“No One Else” — Part 8 (Final): “If I Can’t Have You”

Genre: Dark romance, psychological climax, toxic intimacy. Very little brief mention of smut

Tone: Obsessive desire, emotional conflict, sensual tension, blurred lines

A/n: this is the last part but if you want like a follow up of there lives i’ll do it!!

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You knew he’d come back.

He’d been gone for three days, but his absence only thickened the air, like the moments before a storm—calm, but electric. When you opened your bedroom door and found him there, sitting on your bed in silence, it wasn’t fear that hit you first.

It was recognition.

You shut the door quietly behind you. Your heart didn’t race. It waited.

“Hello,” he said.

His voice was low. Tired. Dangerous.

“I should call someone,” you said.

“You won’t.”

And the terrifying part was—he was right.

He stood slowly, shadows clinging to him like they belonged to him. His presence filled the room until you couldn’t breathe around it. He looked at you like a man who’d spent days walking barefoot through hell, just to stand in front of you again.

“You lied to me,” he said. “You pulled away.”

“I needed to.”

“I needed you,” he growled, stepping closer. “Do you know what it felt like? Thinking you’d outgrown me? That you’d left me?”

You stepped back, but not far.

He stopped inches from you, chest rising and falling fast. He looked desperate and furious and shattered.

“I wanted to forget you,” you whispered.

“Liar.”

His hand cupped your jaw—rough, trembling. His thumb slid over your cheek like he was memorizing it all over again.

“I hate what you make me,” he said. “But I’d rather be this—unhinged, broken, obsessed—than feel nothing without you.”

You should’ve pushed him away.

You wanted to.

But his lips were already on yours—demanding, aching, full of everything he hadn’t said in days. And God help you, you kissed him back.

Not out of love.

But because it was the only thing that made the silence bearable.

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It wasn’t soft.

It was all fingernails and breathless gasps and clothes dragged off in frustration. He didn’t touch you like he was asking for anything—he touched you like he was claiming you. And you let him.

Because some part of you still needed to be wanted this much. Still craved the danger of him, the way his voice said your name like it was a prayer and a threat all at once.

“Mine,” he growled against your throat.

“Say it.”

You hesitated.

Then: “Yours.”

And it broke you.

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After, you lay tangled in the sheets—half on top of him, your breath slowly returning. Your mind was blank. Your body buzzed. Shame and longing mixed into something you couldn’t name.

He looked at you, eyes calmer now. Sadder.

“Tell me you won’t leave again,” he whispered.

You didn’t answer.

Not yes. Not no.

Just laid your head on his chest and closed your eyes.

Because maybe this wasn’t love.

But it was the closest either of you had ever come.

And that was enough.

For now.

LEE JUN YOUNG THE MAN YOU ARE UGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

I wanted to request for Sieun x high functioning depressed female reader.

“You’re Still Here”

Pairing: Yeon Si-eun x fem!Reader

Theme: Comfort | Emotional Intimacy | Hurt/Comfort | Slice of Life

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It’s not easy to explain to people why you’re tired all the time.

You get up. You show up. You speak when spoken to. You get the grades. You smile just enough. You reply to texts with just the right tone that no one notices you drifting further away in your own mind.

No one, except Si-eun.

He doesn’t pry.

That’s the scariest part.

He just knows.

You’re sitting in the quiet corner of the school library, cheek resting against your fist, eyes glazed over a page you’ve reread four times without registering a word. You’re supposed to be taking notes. The pen sits still in your hand, ink bleeding faintly onto the page where your grip is just a bit too tight.

Then, you feel it.

The shift of air. The quiet footstep. The presence.

Si-eun slides into the seat across from you without saying anything, placing a bottle of banana milk and a protein bar on your notebook like it’s a normal Tuesday thing. Like he knows you haven’t eaten anything solid since yesterday afternoon.

“Hey,” he says softly.

Your throat aches at how gently he speaks. Like he’s afraid to break something in you that’s already barely holding.

“Hey,” you whisper back.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for the bottle. He watches, eyes steady, calculating—not judging—and then pulls out his own book, opening it silently. As if to say: You don’t need to talk. I’m just here.

Minutes pass. Maybe hours. You finally begin writing again. Slower than usual, but it’s something. He’s still reading, occasionally scribbling in his notebook, and not once does he look impatient.

After some time, you whisper, “I don’t think I’m okay.”

Si-eun doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t fumble. He looks up, meeting your tired eyes with those calm, unreadable ones of his.

“I know,” he says. “But you’re still here.”

The words hit somewhere deep in your chest.

You let out a shaky breath. “Sometimes I don’t even know why. It’s like I’m…running on fumes. Like I’m surviving by accident.”

His hand moves across the table. It lands near yours—not touching, just close enough.

“I don’t think you’re a burden,” he says quietly, almost too quiet for anyone else to hear. “And I don’t care if you don’t have the energy to be ‘fine’ every day. You’re still… you.”

You close your eyes.

You’ve cried alone before—into pillows, into showers, into the dark silence of your room—but this feels different. You’re not crying yet, but your chest is finally exhaling.

Safe. That’s what he gives you without even trying.

You whisper, “Why do you stay?”

He tilts his head, like he’s confused by the question.

“Because I care. Isn’t that enough?”

You nod. Just barely. And then, almost timidly, you reach your hand out. His fingers curl around yours slowly, naturally, like it was always meant to happen this way.

And in that quiet library, surrounded by fluorescent lights and the scent of old textbooks, you find something rare.

Not a solution. Not a sudden burst of happiness.

But something softer.

A hand to hold in the dark.

Someone who sees the version of you you’re too tired to perform.

I Know You Missed Me

Dark romance•smut**

Geum seong je x fem!reader

You hadn’t seen him for three weeks.

You changed your number. Blocked him everywhere. Moved out of your apartment without telling anyone where. But Geum Seong-je had a way of finding things — people — when he wanted them. And he always wanted you.

So when you opened the door to your new place and saw him standing there in the hallway, hood up, eyes bloodshot, fists clenched at his sides, you knew it was over.

“You really thought you could disappear on me?” he said quietly.

You should have slammed the door. Screamed. Called for help. But your heart was already racing — not from fear. From that sick, aching part of you that missed him every night, even when you hated him.

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

“I never stopped looking.”

His voice was low, almost broken. When he stepped into your apartment without asking, you didn’t stop him. When he grabbed your face and kissed you like he was drowning, you didn’t push him away. And when he whispered, “You ruined me, and you think I’d let you leave?” — you pulled him closer.

His jacket hit the floor. Your shirt followed. His hands were rough, desperate — dragging down your back, gripping your waist like he could hold you in place forever.

“Say it,” he growled against your neck. “Say you missed me.”

You didn’t want to. You tried to lie.

But his hand slipped between your thighs, fingers sliding over your underwear, and your body betrayed you with a soft gasp that only made him smirk.

“Liar,” he whispered. “You’re soaked.”

He pushed your panties aside, fingers teasing you, slow at first, then harder when you arched into him. Your hands tangled in his shirt, dragging it over his head. His body was tense, inked with bruises and rage, but he let you touch him like you were the only thing that calmed the fire.

“You think I don’t know you?” he rasped. “You leave, you run — and you still want me like this.”

You hated how true it was.

He pushed you back onto the bed, crawled over you like a storm — wild eyes, clenched jaw, every muscle in his body coiled like he was barely holding himself together. He kissed you like he wanted to devour you. And when he finally slid inside you, deep and punishing, you moaned his name like it was salvation.

“I’ll never let you go,” he groaned into your ear. “I’d burn the whole world to keep you.”

His thrusts were rough at first, fueled by weeks of madness — but when your nails dug into his back and your legs wrapped around his waist, he slowed. Not because he wanted to — but because he needed to feel you break for him.

Every time you gasped his name, every time your body trembled around him, it made something darker settle behind his eyes.

“You’re mine,” he said, forehead against yours, breath heavy. “You always fucking were.”

When you came undone under him, crying out, he followed with a hoarse moan and buried his face in your neck, breathing you in like you were the only thing keeping him alive.

He didn’t leave that night.

He held you after — arms wrapped tightly around you, his voice barely a whisper: “Run again, and I’ll come find you. Over and over.”

And you knew you would let him.

Every time.

I need more geum seong je fics to read on here. Ive done read them all😩😩😩

“Cherry Coke & Cigarettes”

(Part 2 !smut!)

⚠️ NSFW / 18+ SMUT

Tags: Dom!Geum Seong-je, sub!innocent reader, first time, fingering, soft corruption, praise kink, possessive dirty talk, slightly rough but caring.

@ashayein

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You weren’t supposed to be here again.

You told yourself it was just a one-time thing—the Cherry Coke, the stolen glances, the kiss that nearly took your breath away. But here you were. Standing in Seong-je’s room, heart pounding, hoodie sleeves bunched in your fists.

“You nervous?” he asked, sitting on the edge of his bed, legs spread like he had all the time in the world.

“Yes.”

He smiled, eyes flickering down your body. “Good. You should be.”

You swallowed. “I… want you.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You sure?”

You nodded.

“Then come here.”

You walked over, slow steps across the hardwood until you stood between his legs. His hands came up, resting at your waist gently, thumbs rubbing circles over the fabric.

“Look at you,” he murmured, dark eyes devouring you. “Little angel… about to let a guy like me touch you like that.”

“I want it to be you,” you whispered. “Only you.”

Something shifted in his expression. Like the last thread of patience snapped.

He pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling his thighs, your chest flush against his. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me, do you?”

You shook your head, fingers curling in his shirt.

“Then let me show you.”

His mouth was on yours again—hot, deep, and claiming. His tongue slid past your lips, tasting every inch, setting your nerves on fire. You moaned softly, hands gripping his shoulders like he was your only anchor.

“Take this off,” he said against your lips, tugging at your hoodie. “Wanna see you.”

You hesitated, cheeks flushing.

“I’ll go slow,” he said, voice lower now, rough with restraint. “We stop if you say stop.”

You nodded.

You lifted your hoodie over your head. His hands didn’t waste a second—they slid up your bare waist, fingertips dragging over your skin like he was memorizing you.

“Fuck…” he breathed. “You’re perfect.”

You whimpered as his hands cupped your chest, thumbs brushing over your bra. He leaned in and kissed the top curve of one breast, then the other, so tender it made you ache.

“You shaking?” he asked against your skin.

“Yes…”

“I’ll make it feel good, baby. I promise.”

You let him push the straps down. The moment your bra was gone, he stared—quiet, reverent—and then leaned down to press a kiss to your sternum.

And then he bit. Not hard—just enough for you to gasp and cling to him.

“You’re so soft,” he whispered. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

One hand cradled your back as the other massaged your chest, mouth working over your nipple with tongue and teeth until you were whimpering his name.

“Seong-je—”

He chuckled. “There she is.”

His hands slid lower, under your waistband. “Can I touch you here?”

You nodded, breathless.

He pushed your shorts down, slowly, until you were straddling him in nothing but your panties. His fingers pressed lightly over the damp fabric.

“Already wet?” he teased. “Did I do that?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Good.”

He slid the fabric aside and dipped two fingers through your folds. You moaned, hips twitching.

“You’re soaked,” he said, voice rough. “You’ve been needing this for a while, haven’t you?”

You buried your face in his neck, nodding.

His fingers circled your clit gently, teasing, never giving you what you really wanted. “You ever touched yourself before?”

“…No.”

That made him groan. “Fuck. You’re gonna make me lose it.”

He eased one finger into you, slow and deliberate. You gasped, tightening around him instinctively.

“Shh… I got you,” he whispered, kissing your temple. “Just feel it.”

He added a second finger, curling them gently as he whispered filth in your ear.

“Feel how tight you are? Gonna stretch you out so good… make you mine.”

Your hips started to roll against his hand, chasing the pressure.

“That’s it,” he whispered, licking into your neck. “Let go for me, baby. Just like that.”

You came with a soft cry, trembling in his lap, clutching his shoulders like you’d fall apart without him. He kissed you through it, slow and deep, letting you ride the high with his fingers still inside you.

When you could finally breathe again, you whispered, “What about you…?”

He chuckled, dark and low. “Don’t worry. I’ll be inside you next time.”

You blinked.

“Oh, yeah,” he smirked. “You think I’m letting you go after this?”

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“Just You, Just Me”

Geum Seong-je x fem!Reader

Smut | Soft possessive | Explicit

*They had a first round and he goes back for another*

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The room was quiet except for the sound of your breaths evening out, skin still slick with heat, your bodies tangled under the sheets.

Seong-je lay on his side, one arm draped across your stomach, his fingers tracing lazy circles just above your navel. His lips brushed your shoulder — light, like he was barely touching you.

You thought he’d fall asleep like that. But then—

His voice, rough, low:

“You’re too good for me.”

You blinked at the ceiling, heart slowing but full. “What?”

He didn’t answer with words. Just shifted closer. His mouth found your jaw, then your throat, tracing the edge of it with deliberate slowness. You felt his breath fan across your skin as he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”

Your body reacted instantly — heat pooling low, thighs pressing together beneath the sheets. He pulled the blanket down just enough to expose your chest, his eyes darkening at the sight of you bare beneath him again.

His voice dipped, rough with that edge only you got to hear.

“I want to take my time this time.”

His lips found your breast, tongue flicking over your nipple before he sucked — slow, teasing. One hand slid between your thighs, already finding you soft and wet again.

“Still so ready for me,” he murmured with a smirk, kissing lower now, down your stomach, until he was between your legs.

“Seong-je—” your voice broke as his tongue dragged up your center, gentle at first, then deeper, more focused. One arm slid under your thigh to pull you closer to his mouth.

He moaned softly against you. “Taste so good. Could stay here forever.”

Your hands tangled in his hair as your hips bucked, but he held you steady, savoring you, taking his time. His tongue moved slow but confident, lips wrapping around your clit just right — until you were trembling, back arching, eyes fluttering shut.

When he finally pulled back, he licked his lips like he was addicted.

He moved up your body, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re shaking.”

You nodded, breathless. “You’re unreal.”

He chuckled, low and satisfied. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

This time, he slid into you slowly — deep, deliberate, like he was trying to memorize every second. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, anchoring him closer.

He kissed you through it, lips slow and open-mouthed, swallowing every gasp, every moan.

His thrusts were smoother now — not rough, but deep. Intimate. You could feel every inch of him, and it made your head spin.

He held your face in one hand as he rocked into you, watching your expression, whispering, “Look at me… I want to see you fall apart.”

You tried to look away, but he caught your jaw gently.

“No hiding. Not with me.”

And you didn’t. You gave him everything — every breathless cry, every broken moan, every pulse of your body around him as you spiraled over the edge a second time, tighter, hotter, deeper than the first.

He followed fast after, with a low, guttural groan, hips stilling deep inside you, his forehead pressed to yours as he let himself go.

You lay there, breath tangled in his, hearts thudding together in the dark.

His thumb stroked your cheek, voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

“Only you do this to me.”

You smiled, exhausted but full. “Good.”

He chuckled, brushing your hair back.

“You gonna survive round three later?” he teased.

You narrowed your eyes, barely holding back a grin. “Only if you keep looking at me like that.”

He leaned in, kissed your nose.

“Oh, I will.”

Guys I don’t know what got write. I haven’t written in almost a week!!!!😫😫😫

I love your whc fics so much!! and I love baekjin 🤗 could i request a baekjin x reader headcanon like you did with seonje?

Yessss!!!! And thank you for requesting!!!!

Na Baek Jin Headcanons

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🌸 Sweet & Soft Na Baek-jin Headcanons

1. Quiet protector energy.

He’s not loud about how much he cares, but he’s always watching from a distance. You’ll find him leaning against a wall nearby, headphones on, eyes scanning for trouble. If someone even looks at you the wrong way, he narrows his eyes, and they back off fast.

2. The type to memorize your schedule.

He won’t admit it, but he knows exactly what time you have lunch, what route you take to class, and where you like to hang out when you need quiet. If you’re ever missing, he notices within five minutes.

3. Acts cold around others but melts when it’s just you.

Around his crew, he’s all blank expressions and sharp words. But with you? He softens. Pulls you into his hoodie. Tucks your hair behind your ear. Hums a tune while your head rests on his chest.

4. Gives you his jacket without a word.

You shiver once, and he shrugs off his jacket like it’s nothing, tossing it over your shoulders. No eye contact. Just a quiet: “Wear it.” His scent lingers on the collar and makes you dizzy in the best way.

5. Secretly writes music about you.

He has a locked folder in his phone with beats he made while thinking of you — sometimes dark and brooding, sometimes soft and slow. You have no idea, but he listens to them late at night when he misses you too much to sleep.

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🖤 Obsessive/Intense Na Baek-jin Headcanons

1. He doesn’t trust people around you.

Even if they’re being friendly, he watches every interaction like a hawk. If anyone flirts with you, his hand clenches at his side. He won’t start a fight — not unless you’re hurt — but he’ll remember. And he’ll handle it later.

2. Needs to know where you are — always.

He doesn’t blow up your phone, but he expects you to text when you get home. If you don’t, he shows up. Calm, serious, standing outside your door like: “Why didn’t you tell me you were safe?” It’s not a question — it’s an accusation wrapped in worry.

3. Keeps little pieces of you.

That broken hair clip you threw away? He has it. Your old scarf? Still in his drawer. They’re like tokens — reminders that you’re real, that you’re his. He’d never tell you, but they matter more to him than his own stuff.

4. Gets possessive when you pull away.

If you try to create space — emotionally or physically — he goes still. Withdrawn. But the storm behind his eyes brews silently. He doesn’t beg, but he’ll back you into a corner emotionally with quiet intensity, whispering: “I don’t know how to breathe without you.”

5. Has a dangerous calm when he’s jealous.

He doesn’t explode. He waits. Observes. Then he finds quiet ways to isolate the person — pushes them out of your life with subtle pressure, until you only see him. And he’ll act like it’s coincidence.