c4shm0neyxxx

[c4shm0neyxxx]

Hiii

I really like your histories and I would wanna ask for a skz scenario where they catch their partner smocking vape secretly

tysm I’m asking this reaction to every writer but none seems to respond I would be very glad if you did tysm 🩷🩷🩷💗💗

How skz react to catching you vaping

Hiiiii thank you for requesting. I really like writing these skz react type scenarios with all the meme era and if you want other separate stray kidz fan fics let me knowwwww!!!!

———-

Bang Chan

You’re leaning against the balcony rail when the door slides open. The cold night air carries your secret in a thin, fruity-scented mist. Chan freezes mid-step, eyes narrowing.

“…Are you kidding me right now?” His voice is low, not angry yet, but sharp. You try to hide the vape, but he’s already walking over, palm out.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s disappointment threaded through his tone more than anger. He takes it gently from your hand, thumb brushing your knuckles. “If you were stressed, you could’ve come to me instead of… this.”

When you look away, embarrassed, he sighs and pulls you into his arms anyway. “We’re talking about this later. But for now… just promise me you’ll be honest with me next time.”

⸻

Lee Know

He catches you in the kitchen, back turned, mid-inhale. The faint crackle and sweet scent hit his senses before you even realize he’s there.

“…Y/N.”

His voice makes you flinch, and you spin around. He’s leaning on the doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable but his eyes… sharp.

“You know I hate lying,” he says quietly. “And hiding this from me? That’s lying.” He takes a step closer, takes the vape from you without resistance, and drops it on the counter.

“I’m not gonna lecture you right now. I’m too annoyed. But I care about you too much to just ignore this.” He kisses your forehead before walking away, muttering something about needing to cool off before he says something harsher.

⸻

Changbin

You’re sitting on the floor by the window when he comes in from the gym, towel draped over his neck. He pauses mid-sentence when he sees the plume of vapor fade.

“…What the hell, babe?” He crouches in front of you, looking more hurt than angry. “Since when? And why didn’t you tell me?”

Your excuses tumble out, but he shakes his head. “You think I wouldn’t care? I care too much.” He gently pulls it out of your hand, setting it aside. “I don’t want to lose you to something like this.”

He stays sitting with you, hand on your knee, talking you through healthier ways to cope — even if you’re still too flustered to answer much.

⸻

Hyunjin

You think you’re safe in the bathroom with the fan running — until the door creaks open and Hyunjin steps in, brows furrowed.

“Seriously?” He sounds more disappointed than furious, but his jaw is tight.

You stammer something about stress, but he just leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You could’ve come to me. I would’ve listened. But instead, I have to catch you?”

When you look down, guilty, he walks over, taking your chin in his hand to make you look at him. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me. We’re supposed to be a team.”

⸻

Han

He catches you outside on the fire escape, legs dangling over the edge. At first, he’s smiling — until he sees the vape. His expression drops instantly.

“Y/N… no. No, no, no.” He waves his hands, half-panicked. “You know that’s bad for you, right? Like, really bad?”

When you nod, he sighs heavily, sitting beside you. “Then why? You’re smarter than this.”

You explain quietly, and he listens — but he takes the vape from you and shoves it in his pocket without discussion. “I’m keeping this. You can be mad at me, but I’m not letting you keep doing this to yourself.”

⸻

Felix

He walks into your room and sees the faint mist in the air. At first, he doesn’t say anything — he just looks… crushed.

“You didn’t tell me,” he says softly, almost like a whisper. “Why?”

When you try to explain, he shakes his head. “If something’s hurting you inside, I want to know. Not find out like this.” His voice cracks a little, and it’s enough to make your chest ache.

He holds out his hand silently, and when you place the vape in it, he sets it aside and pulls you into a long hug. “We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

⸻

Seungmin

He spots you in the park, sitting on a bench with your hoodie pulled up, thinking you’re hidden. He walks up from behind, catches the motion, and sits down next to you without a word.

“Is there a reason you’re doing this instead of telling me what’s going on?” His tone is cool, controlled, but you can tell he’s not happy.

You mumble that it’s no big deal, and he just exhales sharply. “It is a big deal. You’re important to me. Watching you hurt yourself — even if you don’t think it’s a big deal — is frustrating.”

He stands, offering his hand. “Come on. Let’s go home. We’re gonna have a real talk about this.”

⸻

I.N

The youngest catches you in the living room late at night, curtains drawn, a soft click giving you away. His eyes widen.

“…Are you for real right now?” He walks over, snatching it before you can react. “You’ve been hiding this from me?”

When you try to joke about it, his face hardens. “I’m not laughing. This is serious.” His voice has a sharp edge, unusual for him.

Then, softer: “I care about you too much to watch you do this to yourself.” He sets the vape on the table and sits with you, leaning against your shoulder. “If you need help quitting, I’ll be here. But you can’t keep secrets like this from me.”

——/

Have you ever liked a guy and you told your best friend about it and they try to like get you to talk to them but they(him) end up just ignoring you and talking to ur bsf. Idk but it’s just rlly weird rn.

Ik it’s like Yk it’s just a boy. But every crush I had Ive told my bsf and this time I wasn’t but I did.

today ,we were walking around campus for lunch he looked at my friend then said smth to himself and they like laughed or wtv and he made a silly face at her Yk very like….flirty for ppl who’ve never spoke a word to each other.

and later when we were walking we saw him and they liked smiled at eachother and he like put his head down to hide his smile and omg I was just crushed.

Cause don’t get me wrong my bsf is soooooo pretty and super duper smart and kind and funny and just a bright spirit over all.

And I don’t at all want to be jealous cause I don’t want to be jealous of her bc of a boy but I do feel like I can’t have anyone for myself without getting ignored and them talking to her. But I mean can I blame them, she’s beautiful. Buts it’s only been one day(today) so I guess I’ll see what happens next week but if you’ve been through smth similar plz give some advice. I do want to try talk in to him Monday and try to be friends with him. Idkkkkk

Also she doesn’t like him(she’s likes someone else) so Ik it’s not that, she is VERYYYYY friendly tho. Or maybe I’m just going crazy and assuming to much. They are in the same graduating class.

I also can’t help to think it might be my fault. That I just don’t know how to talk to people. But Ive been told I talk allot. And omg also my friend also thinks he’s fine but she has a bf. Idk that relationship has lasted longer than it should have. They don’t even talk to eachother. But it’s none of my business so wtv.

[c4shm0neyxxx]

Hi, I'm the one who asked about the M/M relationship. Thank you for answering me🥹 then could you please do Seongje/Reader where reader is friends with Baekjin but is in the same class as Humin. Baekjin has a crush on Humin but is afraid to confess because he thinks he has a girlfriend. When he finds out Humin is single, he asks Reader to act as a matchmaker. However, Seongje who has a crush on Reader, mistakenly thinks that Reader is in love with both of them.

The rest is up to you, as long as they end up with their crush. Thank you very much🙏🏻🥹

Mixed Signals

Geum seong hex fem!reader (ft. Na beakjin x park humin)

Hiiiiiii!!! I’ve never writen anything like this so I’m glad you askeddddd. But here you go I hope you like!!!!

———

You had always been good at keeping your school life balanced.

Friends in different circles, no drama… until Baekjin showed up at your locker one Monday morning, clutching his phone like it was a lifeline.

“Okay—don’t freak out,” he whispered, scanning the hallway like he was dealing with state secrets. “Humin’s single.”

You blinked. “…And?”

“And I need you to—y’know—help me.” His voice cracked like he was thirteen again. “Like… talk to him for me. But make it look casual.”

You sighed. “Baekjin, I’m not your romance wingman.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, grinning, “because you’re friends with me and in Humin’s class. You’re literally perfect for this mission.”

So against your better judgment, you agreed.

⸻

Step one: Start talking to Humin more in class.

Easy enough—he was nice, always smiling when you sat near him, asking about your weekend.

Step two: Drop Baekjin’s name into conversation.

Also easy—though Humin seemed more amused than anything.

What you didn’t notice was the sharp, dark-eyed stare from the back of the room.

Geum Seongje.

⸻

Seongje had a quiet sort of presence—until you realized he wasn’t just looking at you, he was watching. Every time you laughed with Humin, every time you lingered near Baekjin in the hall, his jaw tightened.

By Wednesday, he’d had enough. He caught you after class, leaning against the wall with that cool, lazy posture that somehow still radiated tension.

“So…” his voice was low, almost casual, “you’re into both of them?”

Your brain short-circuited. “What?”

“Baekjin and Humin,” he said flatly. “You don’t have to pretend. You’re… friendly with both. Too friendly.”

You gaped at him. “Seongje, I’m not—”

He cut you off with a humorless smirk. “Guess I should’ve said something sooner.”

⸻

That night, you got a text from Baekjin:

Baekjin: Humin’s free tomorrow. Let’s all hang after school. You, me, him.

Which sounded like progress… until you arrived and found Seongje leaning against the wall outside the café.

“You coming?” he asked, as if he was always part of these plans.

You groaned internally.

⸻

Baekjin kept trying to steer the conversation toward his shared hobbies with Humin. You tried to subtly hype him up.

Seongje? Sat there, silent, sipping his drink like it was a performance art piece.

Every time you smiled at Humin, Seongje’s leg bounced under the table. Every time Baekjin laughed at your joke, Seongje’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Finally, you’d had enough. You grabbed Seongje’s sleeve and dragged him outside.

“What is your problem?” you hissed.

“You.” He said it like it was obvious. “I like you. And you’re out here playing matchmaker for yourself and two guys at once?”

You blinked, then burst out laughing—so hard you had to lean on the wall.

“Seongje, oh my god—no. I’m helping Baekjin get with Humin. That’s it.”

The look on his face—relief mixed with embarrassment—was priceless.

⸻

One Week Later

Baekjin and Humin were officially a thing. You were happy for them. But you couldn’t ignore the way Seongje had started walking you to class, carrying your bag when you looked tired, standing just a little too close when you talked.

By Friday, you were the one pulling him aside this time.

“You said you liked me,” you reminded him.

“Still do,” he said, not missing a beat.

You grinned. “Then stop glaring at everyone else and do something about it.”

The smirk that curved his mouth before he leaned in told you he absolutely would.

⸻

Everyone got their crush. You just happened to get yours in the most confusing, infuriating, and unexpectedly perfect way possible.

⸻

[c4shm0neyxxx]

Hi can I ask for a reaction of skz(angst comfort) where they are fighting with their gf(reader) and he raises his hand (not to hit her) and she gets scared and covers her face.

this is my first time asking tysm I really love your work🩷🧔🏿‍♀️🩷🩷🩷🫶🫶🫶

Skz react to you flinching

Hiiiii thank you for requesting I hope you like this!!!!!

——

Bang Chan

The argument had been simmering for a while, the both of you circling the same point over and over until frustration bled into your words. Chan’s voice wasn’t yelling, but it carried that low, stern edge that always made your stomach tighten. “You don’t even try to listen to me sometimes,” he said, running a hand through his hair. His arm lifted quickly—too quickly—and before you could think, you flinched and brought your hands up to cover your face.

The sound of his breath catching was deafening in the sudden silence.

His voice cracked immediately. “No… no, baby.” His hands lowered, palms open in surrender as he took a careful step back. “I wasn’t—God, I’d never…” He crouched so you were eye-level, searching your face with wide, glassy eyes. “Please look at me.” When you hesitated, he gently pulled your hands down, his touch trembling. “You are the last person in the world I’d ever hurt. I’d sooner hurt myself than you.” His arms wrapped around you then, pulling you into his chest as he buried his face in your hair, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

⸻

Lee Know

Minho’s frustration showed more in his tone than volume. He paced a few steps, running his hand through his hair before pointing at the floor mid-sentence. “That’s not what I said, you’re twisting—” He cut off when you jerked back, hands coming up instinctively to shield your face.

His breath left him all at once.

“…Y/N?” His voice was soft now, laced with shock and guilt. He dropped his hands immediately, eyes darting over you like he was checking for damage he hadn’t caused. Slowly, he approached, crouching down in front of you. “Hey. Look at me.” When your eyes flicked to his, he exhaled shakily. “I would never hurt you. Ever. I don’t care how angry I get. That’s not who I am with you.”

He extended a hand, not touching until you let him. When your fingers brushed his, he pulled you gently into his arms, rocking you slightly. “I’m so sorry I made you feel unsafe, angel,” he murmured into your hair, his lips brushing your temple.

⸻

Changbin

“You’re not hearing me!” Changbin’s voice was louder than usual, frustration sharp in every syllable. He gestured with his hands as he spoke, and in one sharp movement, his arm went up. You froze instantly, your back hitting the wall as your hands flew up over your head.

It was like someone had punched him in the chest. His whole body stilled.

“Oh, God…” he whispered, his voice breaking. “No, baby.” The anger in his face dissolved into panic as he stepped back, his hands up in surrender. “I wasn’t going to— I’d never…” His words failed him, breath shaking as he crouched in front of you. “I’m so sorry. I hate that I scared you.”

He waited until you peeked at him from behind your hands, then gently moved them aside, holding them in his. “You are safe with me. Always.” He pulled you against his chest, holding you so tightly it was as if letting go would break him.

⸻

Hyunjin

Hyunjin’s eyes were glossy with frustration, his tone sharp as he gestured while speaking. “You don’t understand, I’m trying to—” He stopped mid-sentence when you flinched hard, covering your face.

Everything inside him froze.

“Y/N… did you think…?” His voice cracked, tears instantly blurring his vision. “Oh no.” He took one slow step closer, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Baby, please look at me. I’d never…” His hands trembled as he carefully pried yours away from your face, his thumbs brushing your skin like it was the most delicate thing in the world. “I would rather die than lay a hand on you like that.”

He pulled you into him, holding you with his long arms wrapped around your shoulders, his chin tucked into your neck. “Please believe me,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “you’re my whole world.”

⸻

Han

Jisung’s words came out fast, frustration making them tumble over each other. He groaned, throwing his hands in the air—and instantly wished he hadn’t.

You flinched so violently, curling in on yourself and hiding your face.

His heart stopped. “No. No, no, baby…” His hands dropped instantly, fear in his eyes. He crouched down, trying to catch your gaze. “I wasn’t gonna—God, I’d never hurt you.” His voice cracked like glass. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I scared you.”

When you didn’t move, he reached forward slowly, cupping the side of your face with a gentleness that made his own throat tighten. “You don’t deserve to feel that way. Not with me.” He pulled you into his chest, holding you close as he whispered apology after apology into your hair.

⸻

Felix

Felix’s deep voice carried more frustration than volume, but when his accent thickened and his arm moved sharply to push his hair back, you flinched. Your shoulders hunched and your hands shot up to shield yourself.

The guilt hit him like a physical blow.

“Oh… love.” His voice softened instantly, pained. He stepped back, his own hands trembling slightly. “I would never do that to you.” His gaze was full of panic and heartbreak. “I’m so sorry I scared you.”

When you peeked up at him, he slowly took your hands in his, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles. “You mean everything to me. You’re safe here.” He pulled you close, resting his chin on the top of your head, holding you for as long as you’d let him.

⸻

Seungmin

Seungmin rarely raised his voice, but tonight there was an edge to it. He sighed heavily, lifting his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose—and froze when you flinched, hiding behind your arms.

His chest tightened painfully.

“…Hey,” he said softly, lowering his hand. His voice was nothing but gentle now. “No. That’s not me. I’d never hurt you.” He approached slowly, keeping his voice calm. “You’re safe with me, always.”

When you let him, he took your hands gently, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. Then he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his chin resting on your hair. “I’m sorry for making you feel like you had to protect yourself from me,” he murmured.

⸻

I.N (Jeongin)

Jeongin’s cheeks were flushed, his voice slightly louder than usual as he tried to explain himself. His hand moved sharply in the air—and you recoiled, covering your head.

He froze instantly, all the color draining from his face. “Y/N—no. No, I wasn’t…” He stepped forward slowly, voice trembling. “I’d never hurt you. Please believe me.”

His eyes glistened as he gently pried your hands away from your face, his touch feather-light. “I’m sorry you even thought you had to protect yourself from me.” He cupped your cheeks, brushing away the tears that had slipped out. “You’re safe. I promise.” He pulled you close, wrapping you in an embrace that was firm yet careful, like you might break.

[c4shm0neyxxx]

Hello, do you accept requests for M/M? They're not the main couple, they're just the cause of the main couple's misunderstandings.

YES I DO !!!! I have never writen m/m but if you want to request it go ahead!!🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[c4shm0neyxxx]

thank you for writing my request!! if i can request something else, can i req seongje x quiet!female!reader who was bullied quiet severely? (like "the glory" level)

Bruised, but Breathing

Geum Seong-je x quiet!fem!reader

Tone: Dark romance, protective, slow-burn tenderness, emotional intensity

Warnings: Mentions of severe bullying, physical/emotional abuse, trauma responses, mild violence (Seong-je’s retaliation)

Hiiiiii I tried to make this as “The Glory” as possible but I haven’t watched it in a while so if its a bit off I’m srry🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

⸻

The world had made you small.

Not just shy — small. The kind of small that came from years of being pushed down, pinned under the weight of cruel laughter, razor-sharp whispers, and hands that thought your body was theirs to shove and bruise.

Your voice had been stolen long before Seong-je noticed you.

He’d seen you before — always in the farthest seat in the classroom, eyes lowered, shoulders hunched so tight you looked like you might fold in on yourself. You never spoke unless the teacher called on you, and even then, your words came in the smallest breaths, as if speaking too loud might wake something dangerous.

It wasn’t until he caught the tail end of it — the moment one of those girls grabbed you by your collar in the hallway, pressing you into the lockers, sneering something vile in your ear — that he stopped walking.

Most people didn’t. Most people saw, then pretended they didn’t.

But Seong-je wasn’t most people.

⸻

“Let go.”

His voice was low, the kind that didn’t need to rise to get attention. The hallway fell silent for a beat, and the girl’s grip loosened before she even turned to look.

The smirk she had faded fast when she saw who it was.

Geum Seong-je didn’t need a reputation — his existence was the reputation.

“She was in the way,” the girl muttered, stepping back.

“No,” he said, eyes never leaving hers, “you’re in the way.”

He didn’t touch you. He didn’t even look at you — not yet. Just waited until they scattered like cockroaches, muttering under their breath but unwilling to meet his gaze again.

When it was just the two of you, he glanced down.

“You okay?”

You nodded. A lie so practiced it almost felt like the truth.

⸻

That should have been the end of it. But the next day, he saw you again — not in class, but outside after school. You were sitting on the cold stone steps behind the gym, a ripped notebook in your lap, staring at pages that had been slashed through with red marker and ugly words.

He sat down beside you without asking.

You tensed immediately.

“Do they do this every day?” he asked, nodding toward the ruined pages.

You swallowed. “…Most days.”

“Why don’t you tell someone?”

You almost laughed — bitter, small. “And what? They’ll stop?”

He studied you for a long moment, his jaw tightening. “No. But I will.”

⸻

You didn’t want him to.

You didn’t want more attention. Attention was dangerous.

But Seong-je didn’t operate on permission when it came to people he decided to protect. And somewhere between that day and the next few weeks, you realized he had quietly taken up space in your life.

He started walking you to class — not talking much, but always there. Sometimes you’d hear rumors about what he did to the people who cornered you. You never saw it, but you saw the aftermath: whispers, sudden fear in the eyes of your tormentors, the way they’d take the long way around to avoid passing you in the hall.

He didn’t try to make you talk more than you wanted. Didn’t try to fix you with empty words. He just… stayed.

⸻

One rainy evening, you found yourself walking home alone. He was supposed to have left earlier, but the streets were strangely empty, and you felt the cold knot of unease in your stomach when you heard footsteps behind you.

They were the same girls — the ones who used to pin you to lockers. But this time, there was no crowded hallway. No witnesses.

You didn’t remember what they said before they grabbed you. You just remembered the shove, the sting as your knees scraped against wet concrete—

And then, a hand closing around your wrist, pulling you behind him.

Seong-je.

His voice was quiet, but it carried a sharp, lethal edge. “Touch her again.”

They froze.

Something in his eyes must have told them this wasn’t an empty threat — because they left without another word, disappearing into the dark like they knew they wouldn’t make it home in one piece if they stayed.

⸻

When they were gone, you realized you were shaking. You hated that he saw it.

He crouched down slightly, meeting your eyes for the first time that night.

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore,” he said.

“I’m not—” your voice cracked, the lie dissolving before you could finish.

He didn’t say I’ll protect you. He didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. He just held your gaze until you believed, even for a second, that maybe the world couldn’t crush you completely.

And for someone who’d lived their whole life being made small, that second felt like the start of something dangerous — and safe — all at once.

——-

This one kinda hit home for me. I’ve never been bullied but back in highschool one of my cousins who I didn’t really talked to that much was. I didn’t know till my friends had said she was. No one stood up for her because she didn’t have friends. I did eventually have drama with those girls who bullied her and ended up fighting one of the main girl who did pick on her ( I was a crash out back then ok🥲😭) but anyway. If you are very getting bullied, it will be ok.

Ik sometimes it can be hard to tell and teacher or principal. But the best you can do it just live life and not listen to them. Ppl are going to be mean but you just have to strong and believe in yourself. I’m not the best at this type advice since I haven’t been through it myself but in a way I hope this helped a bit. Luv y’all 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[c4shm0neyxxx]

HIII, I'm so nervous to ask since this is my first request ever but could you write a Baekjin story where he is already in a relationship with reader and he knows that reader had a bad time at their past school + sh issues but she said she quit. One night he notices that their arms are clean but they picked up the ""habit"" of picking at their finger and knuckles? Fluff, pure fluff.

And man I'm so sorry if this isn't comfortable to write, it's okay if it's a little bit weird. Have a nice day/night. Btw, I love your writing, it aches my heart and makes me kick my feet. 😼

Little Habits

Fluff, Comfort

Na Baekjin x Fem!Reader

Hiiii thank you for requesting this luv yalll🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻I’m still working on other request!!!!

⸻

Baekjin had noticed the little things about you long before the two of you got together.

The way you tapped your pen against your notebook when you were nervous, how you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought, and—back then—how you used to hide your wrists beneath sleeves, no matter the weather.

You’d told him, in your own time, about your past. About the rough years at your old school, about the habits you were trying to leave behind. And when you’d said you were clean now, his chest had swelled with pride—quiet, steady pride that he didn’t voice out loud because he knew actions spoke louder than words. He never hovered, never pried, but he always kept an eye out.

It was late one evening when he noticed the new thing.

The two of you were sprawled across his bed, a soft glow from the desk lamp pooling over the blankets. He was scrolling absently through his phone, one arm resting behind his head, when he caught the faint movement in his peripheral vision.

Your hands.

You were picking—gently but constantly—at the skin around your knuckles, nails tracing over tiny imperfections until the skin turned pink.

“Hey,” he said softly, setting his phone aside.

You looked up from where you’d been absentmindedly focused on your hands, eyes blinking as if you hadn’t realized you were doing it.

“What’s up?” you asked, voice casual.

Baekjin didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached over, taking your hands into his own. His touch was warm, fingers curling lightly around yours like he was holding something fragile. He ran his thumbs over your knuckles, the faint roughness there catching against his skin.

“You’ve been at this all night,” he murmured, his eyes meeting yours—gentle, not accusing. “New habit?”

You hesitated, a small shrug lifting your shoulders. “…Guess so. I didn’t even notice.”

He didn’t push. He never did. Instead, he brought your hands to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss over your knuckles. “Then let me notice for you,” he said. “So you don’t hurt yourself without realizing.”

The words settled between you, warm and steady. He shifted closer, still holding your hands, and began to trace lazy shapes across your palms. Stars. Hearts. Circles. Anything to keep them busy in a way that didn’t sting.

You watched him, your chest tightening with that mix of affection and safety you could never fully put into words. “You’re ridiculous,” you said softly, though your smile betrayed you.

“And you’re mine,” he replied without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners.

For the rest of the night, your fingers stayed tangled with his, your knuckles safe beneath the steady rhythm of his touch. He didn’t need to tell you how proud he was—you could feel it in every small, deliberate motion.

[c4shm0neyxxx]

Hi👋🏻 i really want to say i really like glass cage & your other works. It’s perfect ✨🫶🏻 and i don't know if you're still accepting requests. If you are, I'd like to request a Seongje/Strong Reader/Sugang story. Seongje and Sugang could be siblings or even twins competing to win the readers' hearts. It could even be a smut if you're comfortable writing it. Thank you🩷

Crossfire

(Geum Seong-je x Strong!Reader x Sugang — Slow Burn Rivalry)

Heyyyyy. And to answer ur question, I am still taking request but I have been busy making music😭😭but if you requested don’t worry but I’ll get to it!!!

⸻

The first time you met the Geum brothers, it wasn’t by choice.

You’d been leaning against the chain-link fence behind the old gym, phone in hand, when their shadows fell over you like an eclipse.

Sugang spoke first, voice sharp with amusement.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show.”

You glanced up at him — tall, broad-shouldered, carrying that barely-restrained chaos in his eyes — and then to the one beside him. Seong-je was quieter, but his gaze was heavy, appraising, like he could weigh your worth just by standing there.

“I said I’d be here,” you replied evenly, pocketing your phone. “You’re late.”

That earned you the faintest flicker of a smirk from Seong-je, though Sugang’s lips curved into a full grin.

⸻

Over the weeks, their presence became a constant — at school, on the streets, at the edge of fights you didn’t start but never backed away from.

Sugang was all noise and heat, dragging you into reckless dares, brushing his shoulder against yours like it was an accident. He’d laugh loudly, tilt his head toward you like you were the only one in the room, even in a crowd.

Seong-je was different. He never asked for your attention; he just had it. His silences lingered, his gaze deliberate, and when he did speak, it was low, almost like he was letting you in on something no one else was supposed to hear.

And you noticed the shift between them — the way Sugang’s tone sharpened when Seong-je stood too close, how Seong-je’s jaw tightened whenever Sugang made you laugh.

⸻

One rainy afternoon, the tension finally cracked.

You were in the back alley behind Han’s store, rain dripping off your hood, when Sugang caught your wrist.

“You should stop hanging around him,” he said, not even bothering to mask the possessiveness in his voice.

You arched a brow. “Funny. He said the same thing about you.”

His grip tightened just slightly before he let go, his eyes narrowing. “He’s not like me.”

“No,” you said, stepping past him. “He’s quieter. Which makes him harder to read.”

You didn’t see Seong-je standing at the alley’s mouth until you passed him — his gaze unreadable, but his voice low enough for only you to hear.

“Careful, Y/N,” he murmured. “Sugang plays to win. But so do I.”

⸻

It went on like that for weeks — stolen glances, sharp words wrapped in smiles, a constant push-and-pull that left you caught in the crossfire of something neither of them would name.

They weren’t just fighting for you. They were fighting against each other, and you were the battlefield.

The night it came to a head, you stood between them in the dim light of the underpass, the air thick with rain and unspoken words.

“You can’t keep standing in the middle forever,” Seong-je said quietly.

Sugang’s tone was sharper. “Pick. Now.”

Your heart pounded, but your voice was steady. “I’m not choosing between either of you. Not yet.”

And as you walked away, you knew you’d left them both with the same realization — the game wasn’t over. It had only just begun.

[c4shm0neyxxx]

i saw in ur tag in ur latest seongje fic that ur looking for requests and i've never done this before so bopefully this isn't that bad :)

seongje x f!reader just soft desperate (fluff/non-sexual) intimacy? just like.,, *yearning* please? if this doesn’t make sense / you don't like it i can come up with something else <3 i love ur writing! keep up the amazing work :D

Stay With Me

——

Heyyy thank you for requesting. This one is kinda short😭😭but anyway I hope you like it!!!!!

———

The night is too quiet.

The city outside hums faintly through the cracked window, but inside the apartment, it feels like the air itself has gone still. You watch Seong-je from the doorway, his broad shoulders hunched as he sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees. He hasn’t said a word in nearly an hour.

You know this silence. You’ve learned to read him in the stillness—the way his back rises and falls too quickly, the subtle tremor in his fingers as they rub absent circles against his knees. He’s fighting something inside his own head, and you’re not sure he’s winning tonight.

“Seong-je,” you whisper softly. Your voice sounds small in the heavy air.

He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even flinch, like your words barely reach him. That scares you more than anything.

You cross the room, each step careful, as if you’re approaching a wounded animal. When you sit beside him, the mattress dips, and finally, his eyes flicker toward you. His face is unreadable, but his hands—those always give him away. They twitch, curl, hesitate like they want to reach for you but don’t think they’re allowed.

“Talk to me,” you breathe.

His jaw flexes, but no words come out. His gaze drops to his own hands, and that’s when you see it—the faint shake in them. Not from fear of you, but from something deeper. From everything he’s been carrying for too long.

“Look at me,” you murmur gently, reaching out to cup his face. His skin is cool under your palm, his breath uneven as he finally, finally lets his eyes meet yours. And what you see there nearly breaks you.

He looks terrified. Not of you. Not even of himself. But of losing something he’s convinced himself he doesn’t deserve.

“I can’t…” His voice is hoarse, cracking as he forces the words out. “I can’t lose this. I can’t lose you.”

Your chest tightens painfully. God, the way he says it—it’s not just fear. It’s desperation, raw and unfiltered, the kind that comes from someone who’s had too much ripped away already.

You take his hands in yours, gently prying them open when you realize how tightly they’re curled into fists. His fingers are cold against your warm skin, trembling as you lace them through your own. “You’re not going to lose me,” you whisper fiercely. “Do you hear me? I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Something cracks in him at that. His breath stutters, a choked sound leaving him that’s almost a sob, though no tears fall. Slowly, like gravity is pulling him, his forehead comes to rest against your shoulder.

You wrap your arms around him immediately, one hand cradling the back of his neck as if you can shield him from the world. He doesn’t just lean into you—he clings. His fists curl into the back of your shirt, pulling you as close as he can get, like if he holds tight enough, you won’t disappear.

“Stay with me,” he whispers, voice breaking on the last word.

You close your eyes against the burn of your own tears, pressing a trembling kiss to his temple. “Always,” you breathe into his hair. “I’m not leaving you, Seong-je. Not now. Not ever.”

For a long time, you just sit there, tangled together in the quiet. His breathing slowly evens out against your collarbone, though his grip on you doesn’t loosen. And you don’t make him. You hold him as long as it takes, letting him feel it—every word you promised him in the way your arms never let go.

The night stays quiet. But now, it’s no longer heavy. It’s warm. It’s the sound of two hearts beating desperately in sync, refusing to let go.

——-

[c4shm0neyxxx]

Glass Cage: part 12, “The Knife and the Name”

⸻

Geum Seong-je x Reader | vengeance realized, raw obsession, maternal fire, dark twist

⸻

Rain fell the night you finally moved.

Not a soft drizzle. Not a gentle storm.

The kind of rain that drowned sound. The kind that hid sins.

You stood in your bedroom, the knife on the bed. Beside it — the photo of him and your daughter.

You traced their faces with your fingertips before sliding the picture into your pocket.

⸻

Ji-won’s house sat at the end of a long, winding road. A nice place. Quiet.

Too quiet for the man who tore your family apart.

You parked two streets over. Walked in the dark. The knife felt heavy in your coat pocket, but your hand didn’t shake.

You weren’t scared.

You were focused.

⸻

The porch light was off.

You knew his patterns. His shifts. His grocery runs. You’d memorized his life in the weeks of planning.

Tonight, he was home. Alone.

You stepped onto the porch, water dripping off your hair. Your breath came out steady.

You knocked once.

⸻

The door opened a crack.

And there he was. Ji-won.

Older. Tired. Eyes widening the second he saw you.

“…Y/N?”

You smiled softly.

“Hi, Ji-won.”

And then the knife was at his throat.

⸻

You pushed him inside before he could yell.

The door slammed. Rain pounding outside.

“You ruined my life,” you whispered. Your voice wasn’t shaking. It was too calm.

“I—I was trying to save you—”

“Save me?” you laughed, but it was hollow. “You brought the wolves to my door. You took him away from me. You made my daughter grow up without her father.”

“He kidnapped you—”

“He loved me,” you snapped, pressing the blade harder to his skin.

His eyes darted to the knife.

“You don’t want to do this.”

You leaned closer, your breath hot against his ear.

“You have no idea what I want.”

⸻

And then — the twist.

His hand twitched. Not to fight. But to reach.

Slowly, he slid a folded piece of paper from his pocket and let it drop to the floor between you.

“I was going to find you,” he whispered. “Not to hurt you. To help you.”

“You’re lying.”

“They moved him last week. Higher security. But I… I know where.”

You froze.

Your grip on the knife trembled for the first time.

“Why would you tell me that?”

His voice was low.

“Because I’ve been dreaming of making it right for three years. And you just gave me the reason to finally do it.”

⸻

The rain grew louder.

You stared at him. At the paper between you. At the blade hovering over his throat.

And for the first time in years… you had a choice.

Kill the man who broke you.

Or use him to burn the world down and take back what was yours.

—-

Ji-won’s voice was shaking.

Not because of the knife at his throat.

But because of what he was about to say.

“It was never about you.”

You blinked.

“What?”

“Seong-je. He wasn’t supposed to walk free. He wasn’t supposed to stay hidden that long. They didn’t care who he was with. You were collateral. They’ve been watching you. Every. Single. Day.”

Your chest tightened, but you kept the blade pressed to his skin.

“You’re lying.”

“Go home. Look at the trees behind your house. Tell me you don’t see the cameras. Look at the stores you go to. They know what brand of milk your daughter drinks. They know the sound of your car when you pull into the driveway.”

Your grip on the knife faltered for half a second.

“Why are you telling me this?”

His eyes burned.

“Because you’re not safe. And because… I couldn’t live with it anymore.”

⸻

For a moment, the storm outside felt quieter.

You could hear your own heartbeat.

And then, somewhere between rage and grief, you stopped thinking.

Your hand moved on instinct.

A single, sharp motion.

The blade sank into his chest.

Ji-won’s eyes went wide. A sound — half breath, half shock — slipped from his mouth as his knees hit the floor.

You caught him as he fell, whispering into his ear:

“Then they’ll never see me coming.”

When the light left his eyes, the rain finally drowned everything else out.

⸻

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t even breathe heavy.

You moved.

Fast. Clean.

You wiped everything you touched. Left no prints. Took the paper he dropped and shoved it deep into your coat pocket.

You walked out into the storm and didn’t look back.

⸻

By the time you reached home, your daughter was still asleep at your best friend’s.

You stood in the living room, dripping rainwater, staring at the knife in your hand.

You should’ve felt guilt. Horror. Something.

But all you felt was a strange, steady calm.

The kind that comes right before the world burns.

⸻

Later, you unfolded the paper Ji-won had given you.

An address. Coordinates. A schedule.

A name you didn’t recognize at the bottom of the page.

You read it once. Twice. Until the letters burned into your mind.

“You wanted a war,” you whispered to no one. “Now you’ve got one.”

You cleaned the blade. Put it back in the drawer beside your bed.

Kissed your daughter goodnight when you picked her up.

And for the first time in months, when she asked where her daddy was, you didn’t hesitate:

“Mama’s bringing him home soon.”

[c4shm0neyxxx]

hello!! i really enjoyed your glass cage series. will you be writing more parts for it?😮

HEYYYYY!!! it’s funny you say this cause I was thinking abt it lwky but now you say it i guess I will!!!!! 😜😜if there is any ideas y’all would like to see abt up coming parts, give me ideas and your thoughts🫣🫣😛

[c4shm0neyxxx]

“Mine to Hold” –

Geum seong je xfem!reader

(angsty comfort + possessive soft Geum Seong-je)

Ok umm I did a poll for what oneshot I was gonna do next and it was this one that y’all chose and I forgot abt it and decided to post a bang Chan draft and then I remembered this one win after I posted it (which was also in my drafts) so here it is!!!!!!!

——-

You hated fighting with him. The silence after was worse than any words. He had stormed out hours ago, and every tick of the clock since felt like it scraped against your ribs.

By the time you heard the front door click open, your hands were shaking. You were on your feet in seconds, heart pounding as you saw him standing there—hair messy from the wind, that guarded look on his face.

Before he could speak, you were on him, shoving yourself into his chest so hard he stumbled back a step. Your fists gripped his shirt, knuckles white.

“Don’t,” you choked out, voice cracking. “Don’t ever leave like that again. I can’t—”

His breath hitched, arms immediately wrapping around you like instinct. “Baby…”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes glassy. “You’re all I have, Seong-je. Don’t make me feel like you’re gonna disappear.”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. He just held your face in his hands, his thumb brushing away the tears you didn’t realize had fallen. “I’m sorry,” he said, low and rough, almost like he was afraid you wouldn’t believe him. “I’m so damn sorry.”

You clung to him like he was air, your voice small against his chest. “Stay. Please. Just… hold me.”

He didn’t make you ask twice. He scooped you up and carried you to the couch, sitting down with you straddling his lap, his arms locking around your waist. He buried his face in your neck, breathing you in like he’d been starving.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, voice breaking just a little. “You hear me? You’re mine to hold. Always.”

Your fingers curled into his hair, finally letting yourself melt into him. “Promise?”

His lips brushed your temple, warm and steady. “Promise. Even if the whole world burns, I’m not letting you go.”

And right there, wrapped up in his arms, you believed him.

[c4shm0neyxxx]

Read, Not Replied

Bang Chan x Fem!Reader – Long One-Shot

⸻

You used to send him videos every day.

Morning hair and sleepy eyes, little “good morning” clips where your voice still rasped. Snippets of your meals, the music you listened to, you dancing around your room while brushing your teeth. Sometimes it was just the sky or your shoes, your cat meowing for attention, or you venting about your manager. Nothing grand. But they were pieces of you — pieces you hoped would make him feel close, no matter how far he was.

And Chan watched them. Liked every message, double-tapped the stories, heart-reacted to the videos — but that was all. No “miss you too,” no “that’s so cute,” no “babe, I’ll call you when I get five minutes.”

Just… silence with hearts.

Sometimes, after particularly rough days, you’d get your favorite coffee delivered with a little note: “For the prettiest girl in the world – I’m sorry I can’t be there.” Or a bouquet of tulips — your favorite — with no card, but you knew it was him.

And God, you were grateful. But flowers couldn’t hug you. And coffees didn’t kiss your forehead and remind you it was real.

You waited. You waited for the night where maybe, just maybe, he’d actually reply. Not just “seen at 2:43am.” Not just a gift.

But that night never came. And eventually… the videos stopped.

⸻

You felt like a ghost in your own relationship.

His fans got to see him more than you did. And that stung.

You weren’t clingy — you told yourself that constantly. But it was the loneliness. The doubt. That creeping, twisting ache in your chest whispering, maybe I’m just a side piece. A comfort. Someone he loves, but only when it’s convenient.

You told no one. Not your best friend, not your coworkers. Not even Felix, though he always texted you with that sweet “how’ve you been, sunshine?” energy.

You just kept going out. Posting pictures in group dinners, bright lights, pretty clothes, even if you felt dead inside.

And he always liked the pictures.

He’s still watching.

But he’s not seeing you.

⸻

That night you cracked.

It had been two and a half months since he’d called. Four weeks since you sent your last message. And tonight, you had just finished eating dinner alone — again — when you did something you told yourself you wouldn’t do.

You called him.

“The number you’re trying to reach—”

You hung up before the voicemail hit. Your throat was burning.

Fine. You weren’t gonna cry. You weren’t gonna cry—

But why did it feel like the love was only one-way?

You scrolled and scrolled and landed on Felix’s name.

You didn’t think. You just called.

And he picked up. He picked up on the second ring.

“Y/N?” His voice was soft. Warm. Concerned. “Everything okay?”

And that was all it took.

You broke.

Tears spilled, your voice cracking as you said, “Why is it so easy for you to pick up, but he can’t even text me back?”

You weren’t even sure if he understood half of what you said. The crying made your words all twisted and high-pitched and frantic. But Felix sat through it. No interruptions. No sighs. Just a quiet, listening presence.

“He likes my posts but won’t even ask if I’m okay. I feel like I’m… I feel like I’m nothing to him sometimes. Like he’s with me, but he’s not really with me, y’know?”

You heard Felix sigh, voice barely above a whisper. “I know, love… I’m so sorry you feel that way. I know how much you love him.”

You hiccuped. “I do. But I can’t keep trying to stay in a relationship that doesn’t feel real anymore. I don’t wanna give up, but… it hurts, Lix.”

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised. “He needs to hear this. I swear, I’ll make sure he does. And whatever happens after… I’ve got you. Okay?”

You sniffled. “Okay.”

You wiped your tears, ended the call, and dropped your phone.

Then it rang again.

Chan.

You froze. Stared at the screen like it burned. Your heart slammed in your chest.

You picked up.

“…Hello?” your voice was raw.

“Baby?” His voice cracked immediately. “What’s going on? Felix told me—”

But before he could finish, everything exploded out of you.

“Why is it so hard for you to just text me back?” you yelled through sobs. “Do you know how humiliating it feels to be your girlfriend and still feel single? I’m always texting, always updating you, always waiting like a damn puppy — and you give me nothing! Flowers don’t make me feel better, Chan. They just remind me you’re not here.”

Silence. Just your sniffling and the sound of your heart breaking in your own ears.

When he spoke again, his voice was choked.

“I’m so sorry. God, Y/N, I didn’t know it was this bad…”

He took a breath. You could hear it shake.

“I thought if I liked the messages and watched everything, it was enough. I didn’t want to text if I didn’t have time to really talk. I didn’t want to half-ass it. But now I realize that even something would’ve been better than silence. You’re right. You deserve more. You deserve so much more.”

You swallowed hard. “Then why—?”

“Because I’m scared,” he admitted. “Because this job eats everything. I come home exhausted and guilty and I miss you so much it physically hurts. But I put off calling because I didn’t want to sound tired or make you think I wasn’t happy to talk to you. I thought sending food or flowers was a way to show I still cared. But I know that’s not enough.”

He paused. You could hear the quiver in his voice.

“I’ll come see you this weekend. No matter what. I’ll make it happen. I promise.”

You let out a breath. “You better,” you teased weakly.

He chuckled softly through what sounded like a sniffle. “I will. I love you. So much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered.

And when the call ended, you sat there — drained, but lighter.

⸻

Three days later.

You got home from work. Your feet ached, your makeup was half melted, and all you wanted was to shower and crawl into bed. You tied your hair up and began your night routine.

Toothbrush in your mouth, you heard it.

The front door unlocking.

You froze.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you padded down the stairs barefoot, toothbrush in hand.

And there he was.

Standing in the entryway.

Hoodie. Sweatpants. Duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Looking tired and soft and real.

You dropped everything and stared at him. Your eyes welled with tears.

He opened his arms.

And you ran.

You collided into him like your body had been waiting for it for years. He held you so tight, your feet nearly lifted off the floor. You sobbed into his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie like if you let go, he’d vanish.

He whispered into your hair, “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t move. Neither did he.

And in that silence, you finally felt something you hadn’t felt in months.

Home.

[c4shm0neyxxx]

“Welcome Home, Love”

Pairing: I.N (Yang Jeongin) x fem!reader

Genre: Domestic fluff, soft romance

Present day, shared apartment, post-tour reunion. Again writing kpop stuff😋😋😜

⸻

The apartment felt full again.

It wasn’t just the presence of an extra pair of shoes by the door or the suitcase half-unpacked by the couch—it was Jeongin. His energy. His soft laugh when he nearly tripped over your cat. His voice echoing from the kitchen as he helped you dry the dishes, insisting he wasn’t that tired despite the dark circles under his pretty eyes.

He was finally home.

After two months of long-distance calls, midnight texts, and squinting through pixelated video chats with dodgy Wi-Fi, he was here—in your shared little apartment, in the warmth of your arms, smelling like hotel shampoo and airplane air, and still somehow like Jeongin. Your Jeongin.

Dinner had been easy. You’d made his favorite—something warm and comforting that he always asked for when he was too tired to think. He sat on the counter while you cooked, legs swinging, hoodie sleeves pushed up, watching you like you were the most interesting thing in the world.

Now, hours later, you were both curled up in bed, the late-night silence humming around you like a lullaby. The movie had ended a while ago, but neither of you had moved to turn off the TV. The credits had long stopped scrolling. The glow of the screen painted soft shadows across the bedroom as Jeongin held you, his chest against your back, arms wrapped around you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“I missed this,” he whispered against the curve of your neck, voice raspy with sleep and emotion.

You smiled softly, your hand resting over his as it laid gently on your waist. “You missed cuddling me or watching cheesy rom-coms until 1 a.m.?”

“Both,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin, “but mostly just you.”

You turned in his arms until you were facing him, his sleepy face barely visible in the dim light. His hair was messy, his lashes long and resting against his cheeks, and that familiar, soft expression was back—the one he always gave you when he was completely, unapologetically in love.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you said quietly, brushing your fingers along his cheek.

He nodded a little. “It didn’t feel like home without you.”

His voice cracked slightly, like the months of schedules and stress and standing in front of thousands of people had finally caught up to him now that he was safe in your arms. He pulled you closer, burying his face in your shoulder.

You held him tighter.

“I kept your hoodie,” you whispered. “Wore it to sleep almost every night.”

Jeongin chuckled softly, the sound muffled by your shirt. “So that’s why it smells like your shampoo.”

You grinned into the crook of his neck. “You love it.”

“I do,” he sighed. “I love everything about you.”

He tilted his head just enough to press a lazy, lingering kiss to your forehead. His hands found yours under the blankets, fingers naturally lacing together, fitting like a habit he’d never forgotten.

Outside, the world was quiet. Inside, in that small pocket of shared space, it was peace. Soft breathing, slow heartbeats, the subtle thump of rain starting on the window.

“Are you okay?” you whispered after a while.

Jeongin nodded against you. “Yeah. Just… never realized how much I needed this. Needed you.”

You leaned in and kissed him gently—no urgency, no desperation, just the kind of kiss that says I’m here, I waited, I love you.

He smiled drowsily afterward, eyes half-lidded. “If I fall asleep, don’t leave, okay?”

“I’ll never leave,” you whispered.

“I know,” he mumbled, voice trailing off as he finally let go, letting the exhaustion pull him under with his arms still wrapped around you.

And you stayed like that. Together. Warm. Home.

[c4shm0neyxxx]

Hi! I really love your stories. I was wondering… what if Si-eun witnessed the reader’s $uicide. like he finding her in the bathtub with her wrists cut? Maybe he finds her after she already died. You’re completely free not to write this, I understand it’s a very sensitive subject.

“Still Warm”

Yeon Si-eun x fem!reader

Genre: Angst | Tragedy | Hurt/No Comfort

Content warning: Suicide (graphic aftermath), grief, trauma response, mental health themes. Please read with caution.

⸻

He hadn’t meant to come over.

She hadn’t texted back all day, but that wasn’t unusual. She’d been distant lately, tired, slower to smile. He’d been worried—sure—but not enough.

Not enough.

His phone buzzed earlier with a reminder: “Dinner at your place tonight :)” She set it last week. He told her to come over anytime.

So when she didn’t show, he went to hers.

It was habit. It was love. It was the need to see her, just to make sure.

The door was unlocked.

⸻

“[Y/N]?”

His voice echoed through the apartment. It was too quiet. Lights off, no music, no sign of life. Her shoes by the door were soaked from last night’s rain. She must’ve gotten in late.

His stomach tightened.

He walked further in.

“[Y/N], are you here?”

Still nothing. That gnawing feeling in his chest dug deeper. He stepped over the threshold into the hallway, toward the faint light spilling from the bathroom.

The door was cracked open.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The sound came before the sight did.

Then he saw her.

⸻

The tub was half full. Water tinted pink.

Her body slumped in the water, head resting against the porcelain, wrists open and limp over the rim.

The razor was still floating.

Her lips parted, eyes barely open.

And her skin—

It wasn’t cold yet.

Still warm.

Still warm.

⸻

“[Y/N]?” His voice broke like glass.

He dropped to his knees on the tile, hands shaking as he reached in without thinking, cradling her face, water splashing over his sleeves.

“Hey—hey—wake up.”

He tapped her cheek, trying not to panic, trying to remember the emergency steps, something—anything.

She didn’t move.

“[Y/N], please,” he whispered.

He pressed his forehead to hers, trying to will her back into her body. His heart raced, but hers wasn’t there. Just skin. Just silence.

Then he saw the blood on his hands.

Sticky. Staining.

He looked down again.

That’s when it really hit.

She wasn’t waking up.

Not now.

Not ever.

⸻

He screamed.

It tore out of him, raw and ugly and from a place he never knew existed. His knuckles hit the floor. The side of the tub. The wall. Anything to dull the sound of his own voice.

Tears came fast and hard. He clung to her body, sobbing into her hair like a child, begging—

“I’m sorry—why didn’t you tell me—why didn’t I see it—why didn’t I stop it—”

He didn’t leave her side for hours.

Even when the water went cold.

Even when the blood congealed.

Even when her name was nothing but a whisper in the empty apartment.

⸻

Later, they’d say he found her “in time” — to call for help, to give a statement.

But for Si-eun, he will always remember one thing:

She was still warm.

And he’ll wonder, for the rest of his life, if he had just come earlier.

If maybe—

Just maybe—

She would’ve been warm enough to save.

[c4shm0neyxxx]

“The Devil You Loved”

Pairing: Geum Seong-je x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence, obsession, manipulation, betrayal, toxic love, emotional dependency, mild gore, criminal themes

All I gotta say is umm you’re gonna probably want to sit down for this one.

⸻

You never asked him why the scars on his hands looked like battle lines—why his knuckles always seemed just one fight fresh. You just accepted him. The way his voice turned velvet when he talked to you. The way he’d vanish for days and show up with blood on his collar and apologies in his eyes.

You loved him like an addiction: slow, desperate, and inevitable.

And he loved you back—feral, possessive, like you were the last good thing in a world that had beaten the kindness out of him.

You’d always wondered what he was hiding.

You just never expected the truth to ruin you.

⸻

It started with a knock on the door.

You pulled open the latch, expecting Seong-je with tired eyes and a bruised smile. Instead, there was a woman. Red lips. Expensive coat. A scar across her cheek that she wore like a badge.

��You’re her?” she asked. “The girl he’s been hiding?”

“…Who are you?”

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “The one he left behind.”

⸻

You confronted him that night.

She said things—about his past, about blood on his hands that wasn’t from street fights. About a body that was never found. About how he ran, changed his name, buried who he was.

“Seong-je,” you whispered, shaking. “Tell me she’s lying.”

He didn’t.

He just looked at you like you were glass he’d already shattered.

“I did what I had to do,” he said.

“And what was that?” Your voice cracked. “Kill someone?”

He stepped closer, eyes unreadable. “Protect someone.”

You backed away.

“I need air.”

“Don’t leave,” he said lowly. “Not like this. Not until you know everything.”

But you were already grabbing your keys. His voice followed you out like a curse.

⸻

You stayed with a friend for a week. No contact. No messages.

You missed him like a wound misses the knife.

Until one night, the girl from before found you again. This time, she wasn’t smiling.

“You don’t get it, do you?” she said. “He didn’t just kill for you. He killed because of you.”

⸻

The puzzle unraveled in pieces.

Years ago, she and Seong-je were part of the same gang—tight-knit, violent, loyal only to blood. He tried to leave. They wouldn’t let him. She was the one who told them where he was hiding.

But he got to her first.

“Only he didn’t kill me,” she said bitterly. “He just made sure I’d never talk.”

And now?

“I want him to pay,” she said. “And you’re going to help me.”

⸻

You thought about it.

Thought about the bruises you’d kissed on him. The nights he cried in his sleep. The way he’d hold you like he couldn’t tell where you ended and he began.

But you also thought about the lies. The blood. The things he’d never told you—like maybe he didn’t want to be saved. Maybe he just wanted you to fall with him.

So you agreed.

⸻

You met her in an abandoned warehouse—the kind where echoes had memories.

She handed you a recorder. “Get him to confess.”

“I can’t—”

“You want the truth, right?” she said. “Here’s your chance.”

So you did it. You called him. Asked him to meet you.

And like always, he came.

⸻

“Y/N…” he breathed, the second he saw you. “You’re safe.”

You wanted to melt into his arms. Instead, you stood firm.

“Tell me everything,” you said. “No lies. No games.”

He hesitated. Then: “Fine. You want the truth?”

And he told it.

About the night he ran. About the man who hurt his brother. About how he made sure that man would never hurt anyone again.

“I buried him,” Seong-je said. “With my own hands. I’d do it again.”

Your hands shook as you pressed stop on the recorder.

⸻

You never got to hand it over.

Because the next night, she was found dead.

Throat slit. Recorder missing. Police ruled it gang retaliation.

You knew better.

You knew what Geum Seong-je was capable of.

⸻

He came home like nothing had happened.

You sat on the couch, heart like thunder, staring at him.

“You killed her,” you whispered.

He didn’t deny it.

“She was going to ruin you.”

“No,” you said. “She was going to save me. From you.”

And then you asked the question that had been burning your throat for days.

“Would you hurt me, too?”

He looked at you for a long time. Then—

“I’d never hurt you.”

A pause.

“But I’d hurt for you.”

⸻

You left that night.

But he followed.

Not immediately. Not with violence.

With letters. With memories. With late-night calls you never answered. With old songs he knew you couldn’t ignore. With gifts left on your doorstep that reminded you of your first date.

Until, one night, you snapped.

You opened your door—and he was there. Soaked in rain. Drenched in grief.

“You can’t keep doing this,” you said.

He looked at you, trembling. “I don’t know how to stop.”

And you didn’t know how to stop loving him either.

⸻

It wasn’t forgiveness.

Not really.

But it was 3AM, and he looked like a ghost of the boy who used to bring you strawberry milk and bruised promises.

You let him in.

He kissed you like a sinner at the altar.

And you let yourself believe, for just one more night, that monsters could be loved.

⸻

Three months later, you get a letter in the mail.

No return address.

Inside is a photo.

Grainy. Blurry.

Of Seong-je standing over the girl he said he didn’t kill.

Alive.

Bleeding.

Smiling.

The photo’s caption:

“You helped me get rid of her. You just didn’t know it.”

And beneath it, a second note, in his handwriting:

“Now you can’t leave me either.”

————

Part two anyone🤷‍♀️👀👀

[c4shm0neyxxx]

“This Is Me Confessing (For the Fifth Time)”

Bangchan x fem!reader

Context:Reader has a big, not-so-secret crush on Chan, but has no idea he’s been trying (and failing) to confess to her for months. Add oblivious chaos, mutual pining, and soft romantic tension. 💌✨

⸻

You were a walking crush.

At least, according to the rest of Stray Kids.

The way you lit up whenever Bang Chan entered a room, the way you laughed too hard at his dad jokes, and the way you stuttered like a broken mp3 file when he got too close.

You’d been friends with the group for over a year now — Chan introduced you as a mutual from Australia. At some point you became their honorary group chat gremlin, ramen night planner, and occasional heart-thief. Especially for Chan.

Too bad you were convinced he’d never like you back.

You were just the “friend with the cute outfits and loud laugh,” right?

Wrong.

You were so wrong it hurt.

⸻

“Hyung, are you actually trying to confess again today?” Felix asked, plopping down beside Chan on the couch.

Chan groaned into his hoodie. “I’ve tried, like, four times. She doesn’t notice. Ever.”

Han looked up from his ramen. “Didn’t you try to give her your hoodie last week and she said, ‘No thx I already stink’? That was so tragic.”

Chan threw a cushion at him. “She said it with love!”

Seungmin passed by. “Are you sure she doesn’t know? Because she stared at your arms during the last practice like she was trying to hypnotize them.”

Chan flushed. “She probably thinks they’re… funny looking. Or something.”

I.N blinked. “You’re delusional. She’s clearly obsessed with you.”

“Not more than I’m obsessed with her,” Chan mumbled.

“…That’s true,” Changbin muttered, sipping his water.

⸻

Meanwhile, you were panicking on FaceTime with your friend.

“I can’t breathe when I’m around him! He was literally just trying to pass me a water bottle and I dropped it. Then we both reached down at the same time and I HIT MY HEAD ON HIS SHOULDER.”

Your friend blinked. “So basically you had a meet-cute with your crush and then exploded?”

“YES.”

⸻

Later that evening, Chan invited you to hang out at the dorm while the rest of the members were “conveniently” out for the night.

You were too nervous to ask why he was wearing your favorite hoodie of his. Or why he kept looking at you like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.

The tension in the room was so soft it felt breakable.

“Y’know,” Chan said after a while, messing with the strings of his hoodie, “if I told you I liked someone, but I’d tried to confess four times and they didn’t notice… what would you say?”

You looked up from your tea, trying to seem normal despite the way your stomach backflipped.

“I’d say maybe you’re not being clear enough?”

Chan leaned in slightly. “So… if I told her that I liked her laugh? That her voice calms me down after hard days? That I keep replaying the way she says my name in my head like it’s a song—would that be clear?”

Your heart stopped.

“Chan—”

“That’s still too vague?” he teased, smiling nervously. “Okay. What if I told her that I’ve liked her since she fell asleep during our movie night and drooled on my hoodie—”

“Chan…—”

“—and I’ve been trying to tell her, but she’s too busy thinking I don’t like her back?”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. “Wait. You mean me?”

He blinked. “Oh thank God.”

You gaped. “I thought you were—like—just being sweet! You’re sweet to everyone!”

“I’m not sweet to everyone the way I’m sweet to you,” he said, scooting closer. “I’m not just buying extra snacks or writing little notes for everyone. Just you.”

Your chest felt like it was going to burst.

“I’ve had a crush on you for so long,” you breathed. “I thought I was being so subtle.”

“You were about as subtle as a flashing neon sign,” he grinned. “Just like me.”

There was a pause.

Then, softly, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded before your brain even caught up. “Please.”

⸻

It wasn’t fireworks or dramatic music.

It was better.

It was warm and slow and real — like all the tension of months just melted between your lips. Like you were finally letting go of every doubt you ever had.