𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀

𝘸𝑒 𝑎𝘪𝑛'𝑡 𝓃𝘦𝑣𝘦𝑟 𝑙𝘦𝑡 𝑖𝘵 𝘳𝑢𝘪𝑛 𝑎 𝑔𝘰𝑜𝘥 𝓉𝑖𝘮𝑒, 𝘢𝑖𝘯'𝘵 𝓃𝑜𝘣𝑜𝘥𝑦 𝑔𝘰𝑛' 𝘥𝑖𝘮 𝘰𝑢𝘳 𝘨𝑜𝘰𝑑 𝓁𝘪𝑔𝘩𝑡 . . . 𝑥𝑥

PRETTY GIRLS 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝒹𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖺 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝖾 𝓌𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺, 𝗂𝗍'𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝒹𝖺𝗒.

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝒹𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘮𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘯𝘰 𝓈𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝓅𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺-𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝓂𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢, 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝓈𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 . . .

© kiemiu (2024) — all rights reserved. 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗌, 𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝗂𝖿𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 ‼️

𝓂𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 𝓉𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: 𝓒𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨 𝓟𝐢𝐞𝐬

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc: 4.8k

summary → who knew something as simple as receiving choco pies from the brooding woman who always took up a space in the visitor area could mean so much to you. warnings → david makes an appearance..

(beneath the quiet masterlist)

7:13 am

The morning had barely broken when Sae-byeok stirred awake, the dim glow of sunrise bleeding through the narrow, grime-smudged window high on the wall. The boxing gym beyond the door was still and silent, the usual chorus of fists hitting bags and sneakers squeaking across the mats thankfully hadn't begun yet.

She lay curled on the thin, battered cot pushed into the corner of the break room—the scent of sweat and old leather clung to everything. A hoodie was folded beneath her head as a pillow, and beside her sat a small, worn brown paper bag.

She sat up slowly, joints stiff from the chill that clung to the concrete walls. Her fingers reached for the bag without thinking. She opened it and checked inside for the fourth time that morning. The choco pies were still there, packed carefully to protect them from being crushed beneath her gear. The kind with the marshmallow filling. The kind you liked. Never the dry ones.

Of course, she remembered. She always did, even without Cheol having to tell her.

Her breath curled in faint clouds in the cold air. She pulled her hoodie over her head, tucking the paper bag gently into her worn backpack. The long walk to your job was ahead of her, and already, her heart had begun its familiar, restless beat.

By the time Sae-byeok slung her frayed backpack over one shoulder and slipped out the break room door, the bite of early morning cold pressed against her skin. The gym was still locked up behind her, lights dimmed, the scent of rubber mats and metal lingering faintly on her clothes. She tugged her hood up, breath blooming into the air in soft, ghostly clouds as she stepped onto the quiet street.

The city felt heavier in the morning. The kind of quiet where even the cars sounded muted and the only company was the steady pulse of her boots against the concrete.

The walk to the orphanage wasn’t short—two subway stops, then nearly a mile through streets that were still shaking off the night. Some might’ve called it inconvenient. Sae-byeok didn’t care. It gave her time. Time to think. And more dangerously, overthink..

Her fingers clenched briefly at the strap of her bag.

What if you didn’t want the choco pies today?

What if you thought she was being weird? Too much? Too obvious?

She swallowed hard, breath catching in the cold air, and shook her head sharply. No. Stop it. You never made her feel foolish. Not once. But the thoughts kept pushing at the edges of her mind like shadows under a locked door.

She kept walking, boots striking a steady rhythm, matching the dull, anxious thrum in her chest. The streets brightened little by little, neon signs flickering out as the sunlight grew bolder. She ducked her head against the breeze, falling into the same familiar route she’d become familiar with. Her visits starting to become just another excuse to see you.

Then like a blade through the air, the peaceful hum of the early morning came to stop from the sound of a horn.

A sharp, sudden blare cutting through her thoughts. Sae-byeok jerked upright, slightly startled, her eyes snapping toward the sound and a slight tension in her jaw. A car she had noticed in the orphanage driveway pulled up beside her, tires whispering softly against the curb.

The driver window slid down.

And there you were.

Framed in the soft spill of morning light through the windshield, a half-smile tugging at your lips. “Need a ride?” you asked, voice warm—almost teasing, like you already knew the answer.

Sae-byeok blinked, heartbeat slowing from its startled race. Her breath fogged in front of her as she took a step closer, her lips twitching at the edges despite herself.

And just like that, the shadows pressing at the corners of her thoughts melted into something softer.

Sae-byeok hesitated for only a breath before circling around the front of the car. The hood was still cool beneath her fingertips as she passed by, the metal gleaming faintly in the soft gray light. You leaned over, pushing the door open for her before she could reach the handle.

“I’m heading that way anyway,” you added casually, though your eyes held something gentler. An invitation. A habit. As if there was a known secret between the two of you that this wasn’t the first time you’d gone out of your way for her—and how it wouldn’t be the last.

She slid into the seat carefully, adjusting the weight of her bag between her knees so the paper bag inside wouldn’t crumple. The door shut with a quiet thunk, cocooning the two of you in the muted warmth of the car’s interior. Faint traces of lavender clung to the air, along with the familiar scent of coffee from the thermos in your cup holder.

That scent..you. It always caught her off guard. Something soft in a world that wasn’t.

You eased the car back into the street with practiced ease. Sae-byeok kept her gaze forward at first, hands resting stiffly in her lap. You were close. Too close. Her shoulder brushed the edge of yours whenever the car hit a bump. Every second like that pressed a slow, deliberate heat into her skin.

“So,” you broke the silence, glancing her way briefly. “Early morning walk?”

“Something like that,” she replied, her voice low, almost rough from the cold air and lack of sleep. She didn’t elaborate. Couldn’t. Not yet. Not with the bag containing your surprise smothered between her knees.

Your fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel. “Cheol’s gonna be happy to see you this morning.” You whispered softly, your voice barely being heard over the soft hum of the radio as you glanced over at Sae-Byeok once again.

At that, her lips softened at the corners, the barest hint of a smile. “He’s always happy because he knows I’ll bring him something.”

That earned a quiet laugh from you, light and real. The sound curled in her chest, achingly familiar and dangerous all at once. Mainly because it was something she didn't want to get familiar with, feeling as everything she starts to call home soon vanishes.

The small talk drifted between you, light touches of conversation that never tried to fill the silence completely. You’d both grown used to the ease of each other’s company. A shared quiet that never felt awkward—though today, it felt heavier. Weighted.

Her eyes strayed to your wrist as you adjusted the vents. The cuff of your sweater slipped back just slightly.

And she saw them.

Bruises.

Not fresh, but not old enough to forget. Faded purples and yellows blooming like cruel fingerprints beneath your skin. A shallow scratch traced the side of your palm. The sight hit her like a sudden blow to the ribs.

Her eyebrows furrowed and her breath sharpened before she could stop it. “What happened?”

The question escaped—unforgiving, sharp, and instinctual. Like a reflex.

Your hands tightened momentarily on the wheel. For a second, you didn’t answer. Without even looking away from the road, it's as if you knew and had prepared for a question like that to come, just maybe not from her. Then you glanced at her sidelong, eyes steady but guarded as they trailed Sae-Byeok’s face. “I could ask you the same thing, yknow.”

She blinked, slightly caught off guard.

Your gaze lingered on the healing cut at the corner of her mouth—the one she hadn’t bothered covering that morning before returning back to the road.

Sae-byeok hesitated. Her pride wanted to deflect, but the soft inflection in your voice made lying impossible. “Fighting,” she muttered, a half-hearted shrug overtaking her shoulders before she looked down toward the bruises on your wrist. Then, quieter, teasing in a way that she didn't want to come off worried but genuinely was, she murmurs, “Though I didn’t take you as much of a fighter.”

Your mouth tilted in a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Life makes you learn.”

Before either of you could press further or think any harder on each others words, the car rolled into the familiar lot of the orphanage. You put the vehicle into park smoothly and shifted toward her, forcing brightness onto your voice. “We’re here.”

The cheerfulness in your tone was forced. She could tell. You were dodging the question just like she usually did. The taste of her own medicine—bitter and unwelcoming when it came from you.

Without another word, you slipped out of the car. Sae-byeok stayed frozen for a moment longer than she should have, teeth catching briefly on her bottom lip before she grabbed her bag and followed.

The choco pies rustled softly inside.

She wanted to ask more. She always did. But instead, she followed you out of the car and kept her mouth shut.

. . .

After the morning stretch and a quick round of quiz games—answers shouted, giggles echoing through the common room—the kids scattered toward the breakfast line. You took a brief moment to sip your coffee, still hot in your hands, the warmth a small comfort after the already busy start to the day and the tension filled conversation in the car earlier.

Across the room, Cheol had already claimed his usual spot at the visitor’s table. His small backpack sat on the chair beside him, like he was saving a place not just for himself—but for his sister.

Sure enough, when the door opened, Sae-byeok stepped in. A soft scent of cigarette smoke clinging to her figure, most-likely stepping out to smoke while the kids were still pre-occupied.

Her hoodie was drawn up, casting a shadow across her sharp eyes, but even with the stiffness in her posture—the kind that came from sleepless nights and endless worry—there was a certain lightness to her step the moment she spotted Cheol. And then you once again.

She shoved her hands deep into her jacket pockets as she crossed the room. The soft thud of her boots against the linoleum was almost lost beneath the quiet chatter of the children.

Cheol’s face broke into a wide grin. “Where’s Mama Kim?” he teased, after swiveling his head in multiple directions to look for her.

You softly smiled in return. “Just me. You’ll have to survive.”

Sae-byeok came to a stop beside the table, but she didn’t immediately sit down. Her fingers fidgeted at the edge of her bag before unzipping it, with a quick inhale, and pulling out a small, crumpled paper bag.

Without quite looking at you, she held it out stiffly. “Here. For later.” The words tumbled out too quickly, almost mumbled—like she was afraid she’d lose her nerve if she paused.

You blinked in surprise, straightening. “What’s—?”

Cheol interjected cheerfully, a light shining in his eyes, “From both of us!”

Your fingers brushed against hers as you reached for the bag. The contact was brief, accidental. But it sent a quiet spark through your skin. She flinched slightly at the touch, though she didn’t pull away until you took the bag fully.

The paper rustled softly. You peeked inside. Choco pies. Not just any kind. The marshmallow ones—the ones you mentioned offhandedly once, so long ago you’d almost forgotten. Clearly, she hadn’t.

“Choco pies?” you asked softly, a smile blooming unbidden across your lips.

Sae-byeok gave a small, barely-there nod, still refusing to meet your eyes. “Don’t eat them all at once.”

A laugh escaped you, light and genuine. “I’ll try not to.” Your chest felt uncomfortably warm, too full for the simple words you managed to say next. “Thank you, Sae-byeok. Really.”

At the sound of her name in your voice, her eyes flicked up briefly. The tension between you both hung in the air, fragile and heavy all at once. She opened her mouth like she might say something—but then, as if thinking better of it, she closed it again and dropped her gaze.

Sensing the moment was becoming too much, you cleared your throat lightly and gestured toward the kitchen. “I should… go supervise breakfast before the younger ones start a food fight.”

Sae-byeok nodded quickly, almost too quickly. Relief and disappointment warred briefly across her face.

You turned, carefully tucking the precious bag into the staff fridge—saving it not just for later, but for a quieter moment. A moment where you could fully appreciate both the treat and the person who had thought of you.

But as you walked away, you felt her eyes lingering on your back. A soft shiver trailing down your spine.

Cheol had been watching the interaction closely. Too closely.

The moment you disappeared toward the kitchen, the choco pie bag clutched to your chest like it meant more than either of you had dared say, he leaned in across the table. His elbows landed with a soft thud against the wood, eyes glinting with the dangerous excitement of a little brother who’d just confirmed his suspicions and was able to wield the perfect weapon.

“You like her.”

Sae-byeok froze. Her gaze, which had been following the swing of the staff room door behind you, snapped back to him. “What?”

“You talk to Miss Kim the way Yongbok talks to Leeseo.” His grin widened, full of mischief, teeth flashing.

Her brows drew together sharply, the familiar scowl rising out of instinct. “And how does Yongbok talk to Leeseo?”

Cheol pressed his palms together dramatically, fluttering his eyelashes like some ridiculous drama prince. “L-like th-th-this.” His voice wobbled on purpose, breathy and high. “Because he likes her.”

For half a second, Sae-byeok could only stare. The audacity. Her mouth parted in shock, but no protest came fast enough.

Heat prickled beneath her hoodie. She could feel it rising in her neck, the slow, traitorous burn of embarrassment that always betrayed her when it came to you.

Then, forcing her face into the calm, unbothered mask she wore so well, she recovered. “Me and Yongbok aren’t the same person,” she said flatly, her voice crisp with forced indifference. “And I don’t like Miss Kim.”

Cheol only shrugged. “Okay.” But the smirk remained, knowing, a little too wise for his age. “You just treat her different from everyone else.”

Sae-byeok’s jaw clenched. “She’s nice. She’s helped us. That’s why.” She pushed the words out, trying to sound final. Like this wasn’t up for debate. Like she didn’t feel your touch still lingering on her fingers, even now.

But Cheol wasn’t fooled.

He leaned back dramatically, sighing as if he were far too mature to argue. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

Before he could press further—or worse, tease her into saying something she couldn’t take back—Sae-byeok leaned forward and flicked his forehead.

Cheol yelped, rubbing at the spot with exaggerated offense. But his grin never faltered. Sae-byeok shook her head, a rare, reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “Eat your breakfast.”

For a fleeting moment, the world outside—the custody hearings, the cracked walls of the gym break room she had to call home, the ache of bruises from her last underground street fight—fell away.

All that mattered was that you had smiled when she gave you the choco pies. You were still smiling.

And Sae-byeok wasn’t ready to let herself wonder what that meant. Not yet.

. . .

The afternoon sun cast long, lazy shadows across the orphanage courtyard as you slipped away. The kids were gathered in the recreation room for art hour, crayons snapping and laughter echoing off the high ceilings. You’d already finished your rounds, checked the younger ones’ shoes, made sure everyone had enough paper, and finally after hours Mama Kim had finally come back from her “very important business trips” with an arm full of designer shopping bags.

The café where you worked part-time was thankfully not too far from the orphanage—only two blocks down, tucked between a laundromat and an old bookstore with a crooked awning. The familiar smell of coffee and warm bread greeted you before you even stepped through the door.

As always, Gia was behind the counter, wiping down the glass pastry case with a speed that suggested she’d already done it twice out of boredom. She looked up the moment you entered, her sharp eyes immediately narrowing.

“You’re late,” she called, though there was no real bite to it. “But… you’re smiling.”

You blinked. “Am I?”

Gia tossed the rag over her shoulder and leaned both elbows on the counter, chin perched on her hand. “Yeah. And not the ‘I’m faking it so the customers don't bitch at me.’ kinda smile It’s an actual, real smile. I can tell.”

You rolled your eyes and tied your apron around your waist. “It’s just been a good day.”

Gia smirked. “Right. Nothing to do with a certain someone, then?”

You hesitated. Just for a second. But that second was long enough for someone as observant as Gia. Her eyes gleamed with the precision of a bloodhound. “Oh my god. It is someone.”

“It’s not—” you started, but she was already moving around the counter, grabbing your shoulders before you could escape.

Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief. “Is it your boyfriend? Are things finally getting better between you two?”

The mention of him was enough to slightly sour your mood. You let out a pathetic scoff, your shoulders already sinking in at the thought of him. “No. We’re still kind of in a rough patch.” A soft sigh falls from your lips as if the simple thought of him caused stress. “Honestly, I can’t even think of a single nice thing to say about him.”

Gia hummed thoughtfully, releasing your shoulders but not letting the matter drop. “Then what’s got you grinning ear to ear like the cheshire cat?”

You hesitated. The words were there—hovering behind your teeth—but saying them felt too much like admitting something you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to believe yet.

Gia tilted her head, lips pursing. “If it's not David…Is it… someone else?” Your silence and resistance to make direct eye contact with her betrayed you.

A slow, knowing grin spread across her red lips. “Oh my god, it is.” She grabbed your arm, practically bouncing in place. “Tell me. Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

Your mouth parted in protest, but the words tangled in your throat.

Gia leaned in, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You have a crush on someone? If you’ve finally opened your eyes then i'm doing 50 backflips and pouring us shots-”

“No, i-it's nothing like that.” You finally found your voice. Your hands waving in front of you in a meek way of self-defense. “I just… I think she’s nice…When she wants to be.”

Gia froze for a moment, her hands briefly tightening around your forearms before softening. “She?”

Your cheeks flushed hot.

“She?” Gia repeated, her grin growing dangerously wide. “You like a girl? You like a girl!” Her voice pitched higher with each word, excitement turning squeaky and loud.

“Shhh!” You clapped a hand over her mouth, glancing toward the café’s scattered customers. A couple of older women were sipping tea by the window. A man was working on his laptop in the corner. None of them were looking your way, but in a country as conservative as this, you couldn’t risk being overheard.

Gia pulled your hand away gently, eyes softening. “Sorry. I’m just… happy for you. I'm telling you I always thought you played for that side but I was never really sure—”

You groaned. “Gia, please stop talking, you sound like me mom...”

“I am like a mom. And as your unofficial mom, I demand details.” She gestured toward the espresso machine. “Talk. Spill. Or I’ll start guessing and that will be so much worse for both of us.”

You sighed, moving behind the counter and pulling out a clean rag to wipe down the already spotless tables. “Whenever she doesn't have her guard up she's just… really sweet. And thoughtful. She remembered my favorite snack and brought it for me today. Out of nowhere, I didn't even ask her for it.”

Gia leaned her elbows on the counter, resting her chin on both hands. “Snack? What snack?”

“Choco pies.”

Gia blinked. “The marshmallow ones?”

You nodded. “She remembered that I like those. I swear I only mentioned it like one time months ago.”

Gia’s face melted into a soft smile. “Oh, babe. That’s not just sweet. That’s really thoughtful. That’s ‘I pay attention to every word you say and I definitely like you’ types of thoughtful.”

Your stomach fluttered. “It’s not like that.”

Gia arched a brow. “Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that, but people who don't have romantic interest usually don't hang onto every word and remember things like that..just saying.”

And Just as she opened her mouth to ask for a name, the front door bell chimed. The moment the figure stepped inside, Gia’s smile vanished. Her body noticeably stiffened, and she glanced away, pretending to busy herself with the espresso machine.

Your boyfriend walked in, clutching a sad-looking bouquet of flowers—the kind they sold at convenience stores for rushed apologies. Welting petals, bending stems, and the plastic still wrapped around it with a sloppy silk bow. Everything about it wreaked rushed desperation.

You could physically feel the warmth drain from your face.

He approached the counter, eyes tired and heavy with the same look he always wore when he wanted something. “I got these for you.” He pushed the flowers forward. “Thought maybe we could talk.”

Gia’s jaw clenched. She stepped back, giving you space but staying within earshot. Always watching. Always ready.

“I’m working,” you said, tone even. “And we don’t have anything to talk about.”

His expression hardened, his eyes trialed up and down your figure with a sickening slowness before he clicked he scoffed with a gentle shake of his head. “I don’t even know why I try with you anymore.” The words sliced sharp. But you didn’t flinch.

“Neither do I,” you replied quietly, your eyes falling from his and onto the countertop. He sneered, muttered something under his breath, and stormed out. The bell jingled behind him like punctuation to the tension he left in his wake.

The moment he was gone, Gia let out a breath and stepped forward. “He brings trouble everywhere he goes, I swear.”

You nodded, throat tight as you let out a soft shaky exhale. Gia touched your arm gently. “Babe… if you need a place to stay tonight, my couch is always yours.”

You were able to manage a small smile. A brittle whisper of “Thank you.” leaving your lips.

“No. Not ‘thank you.’ Pack a bag. Because you’re staying with me.” Gia gave you a firm look. “I’m not letting you sleep under the same roof as him tonight.”

You didn’t argue because you knew she was right. And you were so thankful to be away from him, even if it was only for a night.

. . .

The café had fallen into its usual hush by the time the last customers trickled out. The once-busy clatter of mugs and low murmur of conversation had faded, replaced by the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old wooden floor.

You wiped down the final table, the cloth warm from your hands. Outside, the streetlights flickered to life one by one, casting long golden ribbons across the pavement. The evening air beyond the windows looked crisp and cool, the kind that hinted at the last stretch of fall.

At the door, Gia waited, tote bag slung casually over her shoulder, scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. Her eyes softened the moment they found yours.

“I grabbed some extra cat food,” she announced lightly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “Figured your furball and mine could have a sleepover.”

That coaxed a smile from you. A real one, soft at the corners. “They’re already best friends.”

Gia grinned, looping her arm through yours. “Just like us.”

The two of you stepped out into the evening, the door’s chime a soft farewell behind you. The night had deepened into a comfortable quiet, the city breathing slowly around you. Streetlamps cast halos of pale gold across the sidewalk, and the hum of distant traffic blended into a gentle, familiar backdrop.

The weight of your backpack was a small anchor at your side. Inside, your work shoes and a spare set of clothes jostled softly. You’d packed enough for two nights—just in case. Though Gia had already insisted you could stay as long as you needed. She always insisted.

Your breath curled visibly in the cool air as you walked side by side. Yet it wasn’t the night chill that made your heart feel tight.

It was the memory of that morning.

The way Sae-byeok’s sharp eyes had flicked down to your wrist, the softness that had replaced her usual guarded stare the second she noticed the bruises. She’d tried to keep her expression even, impassive. But she couldn’t hide the way her shoulders stiffened. The way her fingers clenched around the paper bag of choco pies.

She had noticed.

She had cared.

And though she hadn’t pressed the issue—you’d both danced around the topic, unwilling or unable to expose the truths simmering beneath the surface—you felt it. The unspoken things building between you.

“Hey.” Gia’s voice cut gently into your thoughts. She squeezed your arm, her warmth steadying. “Don’t go quiet on me now. You’re safe tonight. That’s what matters.”

You nodded, forcing another smile. “I know.”

When you reached her apartment, the familiar scent of vanilla candles and the subtle musk of books greeted you. Your cat was already exploring the living room, Gia’s cat following close behind like a shadow. You slipped out of your shoes and padded toward the couch, dropping your bag near the armrest.

Gia disappeared briefly into the kitchen and returned with a thick, soft blanket, tossing it over the both of you as she settled beside you.

“You know what we need to do tomorrow?” she asked, voice light but with a distinct gleam in her eyes.

You raised a brow. “What?”

“We’re going clubbing.” She didn’t even pause for your reaction before barreling on. “You need a night out. Something fun. Loud music, dancing, drinks—whatever you want. No stressing. No assholes. Just you and me.”

You let out a groan, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Gia…”

“Nope.” She grabbed both of your hands and pulled you up slightly, her grin mischievous and unyielding. “It’s not up for debate. When’s the last time you went out and actually enjoyed yourself?”

“I don’t remember,” you admitted.

“Exactly.” Gia’s smile softened. “Let me change that.”

You sighed, but a small, reluctant smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. If it’s with you, I’ll survive.”

She beamed and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “That’s the spirit.”

' 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 '

𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: May 3rd

𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝓞𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: May 4th

the rest tba :) . . .

explanation on why i've been gone:

the main reason for my lack of updates is because i'm in my senior year of high school and have just been drowninggg in tests, school/home work, actual work, college applications, and more. i never meant to be on a hiatus for this long, especially without announcing my departure and how long it might be and i truly feel so bad for leaving everyone out in the dark for it!

I also will say my anxiety got the best of me and I started to doubt my work, my ability to write and I felt like nothing I was putting out was really living to the expectation that I wanted it to, even with all of the support. But I'm not even gonna worry about that anymore. I love writing and if you guys continue to support me I will do my absolute best to be more punctual, and vocal about everything. Inducing chapter updates, life updates (if not too personal.) and whatever may concern anyone.

I will not continue to write for the sturniolo triplets due to my own personal reasons but I will continue to keep my fics up, I will finish the 'beneath the quiet' story (possibly the end of june depending on how fast chapter updates are.), and I will continue to take requests for Kang Sae-Byeok. I have a lot of story ideas for her and would love to get back to writing her.l and possibly other characters.

( i'm starting off slow which is why im only posting two chapters on the weekends but depending on how i feel and when i finally graduate—chapter updates will likely be more frequent including stories for requests! ) ily all so so much and thank you for reading.

( if you guys still care lol ) :

pairing se-mi (player 380) x fem!reader | wc: 1.5k

synopsis se-mi starts to notice a change of your eating habits and gets worried.

genre pure fluff | requested by anon. | masterlist

The cafeteria was bustling as usual, filled with chatter, clinking trays, and the occasional burst of laughter. Se-mi sat across from you, watching as you absentmindedly pushed a piece of rice around your plate with your chopsticks. You hadn’t taken a single bite since sitting down.

Her brows furrowed, and she leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “You’re not eating,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the noise around you.

You looked up briefly, then shrugged, offering a faint smile. “I’m just not that hungry.”

She didn’t respond immediately, her sharp eyes scanning your face like she was searching for a clue. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately,” she finally said, her tone gentle but insistent. “You barely touched your food yesterday too. Is… something going on?”

Her concern made your chest tighten, but you shook your head quickly. “I’m fine, Se-mi. Don’t worry about it.”

Her frown deepened. “But I do worry about it,” she said, her voice a little firmer now. “You need to eat. Skipping meals like this isn’t healthy.”

You sighed, glancing around the cafeteria as if looking for an escape. “I said I’m fine, okay?” you muttered, setting your chopsticks down. “I just don’t feel like eating.”

Se-mi didn’t look convinced. She crossed her arms and tilted her head, her expression a mix of worry and frustration. “You don’t ‘feel like it’? That’s not a good enough reason,” she said, her voice softening again. “You need to take care of yourself.”

Her words hung in the air between you, and you could feel her gaze on you, unwavering and full of concern. It was almost unbearable. “Se-mi, I don’t want to talk about this,” you mumbled, looking away.

She sighed, clearly reluctant to let it go but respecting your boundaries—for now. Instead, she picked up her tray and moved to sit beside you, nudging your arm gently as she settled in. “Okay, fine. Then just sit here with me while I eat,” she said, trying to sound casual. “No pressure.”

You shot her a skeptical glance, but she just smiled, grabbing her spoon and digging into her bowl of stew. She didn’t say anything else, but the way she angled her body toward you and occasionally glanced at your untouched tray made it clear she wasn’t ignoring the issue.

After a few minutes of silence, she suddenly held out a spoonful of her food toward you. “Here,” she said, her tone light but her eyes serious. “Just one bite. For me?”

You shook your head, leaning away slightly. “I don’t want it, Se-mi.”

Her expression faltered, the playful smile replaced by something more vulnerable. “Please,” she said quietly, lowering the spoon. “I’m worried about you. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but… seeing you like this—barely eating—it makes me feel like something’s not okay.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s nothing,” you whispered, but your voice lacked conviction. “I’m fine.”

Se-mi shook her head. “You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you,” she said softly. She hesitated, then added, “You don’t have to do this alone, you know. Whatever it is… I’m here.”

The sincerity in her voice made your throat tighten, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotion at bay. After a long pause, you finally picked up your chopsticks and took a small bite from your tray. “There,” you mumbled. “Happy?”

Se-mi’s face lit up, though her worry didn’t completely fade. “It’s a start,” she said, her tone lighter now. “But I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Later that week, she dragged you to a cozy café after your shift. You protested the whole way there, saying you weren’t in the mood, but she ignored you, her hand wrapped firmly around yours. The warm smell of coffee and pastries greeted you as you stepped inside, and Se-mi immediately made her way to the counter, ordering two servings of your favorite dessert.

When the plates arrived, she slid one in front of you with a grin. “No excuses this time,” she said. “You love this, and I’m not letting you leave until you’ve eaten at least half.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “Se-mi, this is ridiculous. You’re not my mom.”

“No, I’m not,” she said, her tone light but her eyes serious. “But I care about you. And I’m not going to sit back and watch you do this to yourself.”

Her words made your chest ache, and for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. She started eating her own dessert, making exaggerated noises of delight. “Mmm, so good,” she said, trying to coax a smile out of you. “Come on, don’t make me eat both of these by myself. You know I will.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, picking up your fork.

“And you love me for it,” she shot back, her grin widening as you took a tentative bite.

As the sweetness melted on your tongue, you couldn’t help but glance at her. She was watching you with a mix of pride and relief, like she’d just accomplished something monumental. And maybe she had—because for the first time in days, you felt a little lighter.

As you took another small bite, Se-mi’s grin grew even wider. She nudged your shoulder lightly with hers and said, “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You rolled your eyes, swallowing the bite. “You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” you muttered, but your tone was softer now, lacking its earlier sharpness.

“Nope,” she replied without missing a beat, popping a piece of her own dessert into her mouth. “Not when it’s about you. You’re stuck with me, so you might as well get used to it.”

Before you could reply, she scooted her chair closer, the legs scraping softly against the floor as she moved to sit beside you. The space between you disappeared in an instant, and you felt the warmth of her arm brushing against yours. She leaned slightly over the table, glancing at your plate like she was plotting something.

“Alright,” she said, her voice playful again. “Here’s the plan. We’ll take turns. I eat, then you eat. Deal?”

You blinked at her, confused. “What are we, five years old?”

“Do you want me to start making airplane noises too?” she teased, lifting her fork dramatically like it was a toy plane. “I will if it gets you to eat.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, I’m still your favorite person,” she quipped, giving you a smug grin before taking another bite of her dessert. She gestured to your plate with her fork. “Your turn.”

You hesitated, glancing at her out of the corner of your eye. Her expression was light and playful, but you could still see the faint trace of worry in her eyes, hidden behind her smile. She wasn’t just joking around—she really cared. And despite your resistance, her persistence was beginning to chip away at the wall you’d put up.

“Fine,” you said softly, picking up your fork again. You took another bite, this one a little bigger than the last. Se-mi let out a quiet cheer, clapping her hands together like you’d just won a gold medal.

“Look at you! You’re practically a professional at this now,” she teased, but there was genuine pride in her voice.

You gave her a look, but the corners of your mouth twitched upward despite yourself. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you love me for it,” she shot back, echoing her earlier words with a playful wink.

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm after that. She’d take a bite of her dessert, and then she’d gesture for you to do the same. Occasionally, she’d make a joke or a silly comment, keeping the mood light and the conversation flowing. Bit by bit, you found yourself relaxing, the weight in your chest easing just enough to let you enjoy the moment.

As you both neared the end of your desserts, Se-mi leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head. “See? We make a good team,” she said, her voice smug but her eyes warm. “You eat, I pester you—it’s a perfect balance.”

You gave her a half-hearted glare, but there was no heat behind it. “You’re exhausting, you know that?”

She grinned, leaning closer until your shoulders touched again. “But you don’t mind, do you?” she murmured, her tone softening. Her gaze lingered on you, and for a moment, the playful edge in her voice gave way to something deeper. “I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all.”

Your heart tightened at the sincerity in her words, and you found yourself looking down at the empty plate in front of you. “I know,” you whispered. “Thank you.”

She smiled, her expression tender. “Anytime.”

For the rest of the afternoon, she stayed close to your side, her presence a comforting anchor. And while the ache in your chest didn’t completely disappear, it felt a little easier to bear—because Se-mi was there, steady and unwavering, reminding you that you didn’t have to carry it alone.

𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄: 𝓓𝐨 𝓨𝐨𝐮 𝓛𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝓜𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝓚𝐢𝐦?

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc: 4.3k

summary -> a visit to the orphanage leaves sae-byeok feeling unfulfilled without your presence, unfortunately Cheol notices. warnings -> cheol is a little menace.

(beneath the quiet masterlist)

10:55am

𝐒𝐀𝐄-𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 sure why she had come so early.

The city was barely stirring when she stepped outside that morning, the sky still tinted with the soft, sleepy hues of dawn. The streets felt quieter, wrapped in the remnants of night, and the cold nipped at her cheeks as she made the familiar walk toward the orphanage.

She told herself it was because she wanted to check on Cheol. That was the logical explanation. But there was a part of her—a part she refused to acknowledge—that was looking for something else.

Or rather, someone else.

She buried her hands deeper into the pockets of her hoodie as she stepped through the orphanage gates, her sharp eyes scanning the courtyard out of habit. Kids were already outside, bundled up in their sweaters, kicking around a slightly deflated soccer ball. The staff moved about, setting up for the day, voices blending into the soft hum of morning activity.

But you weren’t there.

She hadn’t expected to be looking for you, and yet, the realization settled uncomfortably in her chest. Her gaze lingered at the door for a moment longer than necessary, waiting for you to step out, to catch that tired but warm smile you always wore, to hear the way you laughed when the kids clung to your arms like little koalas.

But as the hours slipped by, morning bled into afternoon, and ou were still nowhere to be seen much to Sae-Byeoks dismay.

Sae-Byeok hadn’t expected herself to wait, hadn’t even acknowledged that she was waiting until the weight of disappointment settled deep in her chest, heavier than she wanted to admit.

She sat in the orphanage cafeteria, her elbows resting on the table, her chin propped up on one hand as she absentmindedly pushed her food around on her plate. The low hum of chatter and clinking silverware filled the air, the other children engaged in their own lively conversations, but Sae-Byeok wasn’t really hearing any of it.

Across from her, Cheol ate with a carefree energy she almost envied, shoveling spoonfuls of rice into his mouth between excited bursts of conversation about the friends he’s started to make. Every now and then, he’d glance away from the window that displayed the backyard to her, his sharp little eyes flickering with something suspicious.

Sae-Byeok barely noticed.

Her thoughts drifted, looping around the same unanswered questions. Why weren’t you here? Were you okay? Had something happened?

She shouldn’t care this much.

But she did.

And unfortunately for her, Cheol noticed.

His chewing slowed slightly, his gaze lingering on her as he observed—far too perceptive for someone his age. The way she stared at her plate without eating, the occasional flicker of her eyes toward the entrance, the absentminded sighs that escaped without her realizing.

She was distracted.

And Cheol knew it.

Then—SLAP!

The sound of two small palms smacking against the table made her jolt so violently that her fork clattered against her tray. A few nearby staff members scurrying around turned their heads at the sudden noise, but Cheol didn’t seem to care about the attention he drew.

Sae-Byeok’s entire body jolted at the sudden, deafening slap of Cheol’s hands against the table. The impact rattled the tray in front of her, sending her fork clattering against the plastic surface. Her pulse spiked, her heart nearly launching itself out of her chest as her breath hitched in startled disbelief.

“Jesus—!” she blurted, her hands freezing in barely concealed restraint as she resisted the urge to smack him upside the head.

Across from her, Cheol sat with the smuggest, most self-satisfied grin she had ever seen. His dark eyes gleamed with mischief, his small hands still pressed against the table as if he had just pulled off the greatest prank of all time.

“What’s wrong, noona?” he asked, his voice far too innocent for someone who had just assaulted her eardrums.

Sae-Byeok exhaled sharply, shaking off the initial shock as she shot him a withering glare. Reaching for her fork, she picked it up with a slow, deliberate motion, pointedly avoiding looking at him as she tried to regain some semblance of composure.

“What the hell was that for?” she demanded, her tone edged with irritation.

Cheol simply leaned forward, propping his chin on his hands, elbows resting lazily on the table. His expression remained smug, but his eyes—sharp, assessing—narrowed slightly as he studied her like a puzzle he was about to solve.

“You’re acting weird,” he said matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Sae-Byeok stiffened, barely managing to keep her face neutral.

Cheol, unfortunately, noticed everything. The smallest twitch of her eyebrows, the slight downturn of her lips, he could always read Sae-Byeoks emotions, much to her dismay.

His gaze flickered over her, dissecting every microexpression, every twitch of her fingers, every fleeting shift in her demeanor.

“You keep looking around,” he continued, his voice dripping with casual suspicion. “Like you’re waiting for somethin’ to happen.”

His words sent an uninvited prickle of awareness down her spine.

She willed herself to not react, to not give him the satisfaction, yet her fingers betrayed her as they twitched around her fork even tighter.

Her heart did an odd little skip—one she didn’t appreciate—and she immediately shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re imagining things,” she grumbled, shoveling another serving of rice in her mouth.

Cheol’s eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping into his features, his little face scrunched up like he was deep in thought. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at her, tilting his head slightly, the way he always did when he was piecing together a puzzle.

“Nuh-uh. Something’s on your mind,” he finally said, his voice laced with quiet certainty. “I can tell.”

Sae-Byeok stilled, the familiar discomfort curling in her chest like a tightly wound spring.

Why is he so good at reading me?

She tore off a piece of her bread roll and popped it into her mouth, chewing slower than necessary, as if delaying her response would somehow make him lose interest. But Cheol wasn’t easily distracted. He had always been sharp, observant—too perceptive for his own good. And, more importantly, too stubborn to drop something once he caught onto it.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” she muttered, leaning back in her chair, hoping that adding a layer of physical distance would shake his scrutiny.

It didn’t.

If anything, Cheol only leaned in closer, his elbows resting on the table, his expression the perfect imitation of a detective grilling a suspect under a bright interrogation lamp.

“Tell me what’s wrong, then,” he pushed, voice firm, unyielding, his little face now inches from hers. His eyes, dark and unblinking, searched her features with a patience that was far too mature for someone his age.

Sae-Byeok groaned, tipping her head back, already regretting coming here so early.

“Okay, okay, just—sit back down,” she sighed, reaching out to shove him lightly back into his seat. The force of it barely made him budge, but he allowed himself to be pushed anyway, his triumphant smirk never once faltering.

She shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose. “God, you’re so annoying.”

Cheol grinned, rocking back and forth slightly in his chair, clearly reveling in the fact that he had gotten under her skin.

“You love me,” he countered matter-of-factly.

Sae-Byeok exhaled sharply, but a tiny, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of her lips, but she quickly masked it. Yet, Cheol still saw it. He always did.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Unfortunately for me.”

Once silence settled over them, Sae-Byeok shifted in her chair, suddenly hyper aware of how small the cafeteria felt, how the air felt heavier now, pressing in on her. Her gaze flickered toward the window, as if she could slip through the glass and escape this conversation entirely. She hesitated, her lips parting, mind scrambling for something—anything—to explain away the way she’d been acting.

“Um…” she started, then immediately regretted it. She paused, eyes darting to her tray as if the half-eaten food in front of her could provide a distraction. “I was just—”

Cheol tilted his head, the movement slow, deliberate, his young face unreadable as he waited. He wasn’t going to let this go. She could feel it.

Sae-Byeok opened her mouth again, prepared to grasp at some weak excuse, but before she could dig herself any deeper—

“Are you looking for Miss Kim?”

Her entire body froze.

The words landed like a direct hit, knocking all rational thought from her mind. It felt like the noise of the cafeteria had dulled, as if the world had quieted just for this moment.

Cheol, completely unbothered by the absolute chaos he had just unleashed inside her, simply tore off a piece of his bread roll and popped it into his mouth. He chewed casually, his gaze focused more on his food than on her. Like he hadn’t just sent her spiraling.

Sae-Byeok’s shoulders stiffened. It was instinct, a knee-jerk reaction to being caught off guard, and she hated that it was so obvious. She didn’t confirm or deny it—didn’t even attempt to—but she didn’t have to. Cheol, being the perceptive little menace that he was, already knew.

“She wasn’t feeling good,” Cheol added, his voice maddeningly casual, like he was commenting on the weather. He barely looked up as he spoke, his attention more focused on tearing off another piece of bread and popping it into his mouth. “Mama Kim said she had to stay home today.”

The words shouldn’t have meant anything. They shouldn’t have lingered.

But they did.

Sae-Byeok forced herself to nod, keeping her expression carefully neutral, smoothing out any sign that the information had affected her. She could play this off. She had years of practice at keeping her face unreadable, at swallowing emotions before they could betray her.

This was nothing.

It should’ve been nothing.

But the weight of it settled in her chest anyway, pressing down like a quiet, unwelcome presence. The logical part of her—the one that kept her grounded, that reminded her to be rational—told her that people got sick all the time. It was normal. Routine. You’d be fine and sooner than later she’d see you again, healthier and thriving.

And yet, her mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Because what if it wasn’t just a cold? What if it had nothing to do with being sick at all?

The thought came unbidden, creeping in before she could shove it away. Her mind trailing back to something she tried not to dwell on—the dark bruise she caught a glimpse of on your wrist just yesterday. You had tried to hide it, slipping your sleeve down quickly when you noticed her eyes lingering, brushing off any concern with a practiced ease that felt too familiar, too well-worn.

She hadn’t pushed even though she felt like she should have. Her jaw clenched slightly, the faintest flicker of heat sparking under her skin, a slow-burning frustration curling in her gut.

If someone had hurt you—

She stopped the thought before it could take root further in her mind.

A pause stretched between her and Cheol, just a second too long, just enough for him to notice. His spoon hovered over his plate, his chewing slowing ever so slightly as his sharp little eyes flickered back up to her. His eyes scanned her form, noticing the rigidness in her posture, the way her jaw tensed, the way her grip on her fork tightened but soon faltered under his gaze..

She recognized that look.

He was thinking. Connecting dots. Filing away every detail of her reaction like a detective piecing together a case. Then, ever so slowly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk.

“Noona…” Cheol drawled, stretching out the word as if he were savoring it, rolling it around in his mouth like candy, drawing out the moment for maximum effect. There was a certain kind of delight in the way he said it—slow, teasing, the telltale sign of a younger sibling who knew they were about to wreak havoc. He leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table, chin propped lazily in his hand, the very picture of smug satisfaction.

Sae-Byeok’s instincts flared instantly, a subtle prickle running down her spine like the first warning of an impending storm. The way his posture shifted, the way his eyes sharpened, calculating but playful, dangerous in that uniquely Cheol way—set off every internal alarm she had. She recognized the signs. He was leading up to something, and whatever it was, she was already regretting giving him the satisfaction of reacting.

Her gaze snapped to his, narrowed and wary, her muscles tensing like she was preparing for an attack. “…What?” she asked, voice clipped, edged with suspicion.

Cheol’s smirk stretched wider, slow and deliberate, like he was thrilled with the way she had taken the bait. The amusement in his expression was almost infuriating, his dark eyes alight with mischief, practically buzzing with energy now that he knew he had her cornered. He took a moment, dragging it out just long enough to watch her squirm, before tilting his head ever so slightly.

“Do you like Miss Kim?”

The question hit her like a sucker punch, knocking the breath clean out of her lungs. Her body lurched forward as she coughed violently, nearly knocking over her drink as she pounded her fist against her chest, struggling to clear her airway. Her throat burned, and she gasped for breath, eyes stinging from the sudden attack on her respiratory system.

When she finally managed to recover, she wiped at her mouth aggressively, glaring at him as if he were the problem. “What the hell is your problem?” she rasped, voice still raw from nearly inhaling her juice.

Cheol shrugged, completely unfazed by her reaction, his small frame radiating an infuriating level of confidence as he chewed on his rice, watching her suffer and scramble in quiet amusement. “You heard me,” he said simply, as if he hadn’t just sent her spiraling into a full-blown crisis.

Sae-Byeok scrambled for composure, suddenly feeling much too warm despite the cool air circulating through the cafeteria. It was ridiculous. There was no reason for her heart to be hammering like this, no reason for her skin to prickle with heat as if she had just been caught in some grand confession.

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, snatching her fork just to give her hands something to do. She stabbed at the food on her plate, not even bothering to take a bite, her grip just a little too tight around the utensil. Maybe if she focused hard enough on the motion, she could force this entire conversation into nonexistence.

Cheol tilted his head again, his expression too damn smug for his own good. The amusement dancing in his eyes made her want to roll her eyes for the twentieth time.

“You do that thing when you lie,” he noted casually, like he was pointing out the weather, like he hadn’t just ripped through her attempt at denial in a matter of seconds.

Sae-Byeok frowned, instantly wary. “What thing?”

He gestured vaguely at her, the movement lazy, as if the answer was obvious. “That thing. Where you get all stiff and weird.”

She scoffed, sitting up straighter, gripping her water bottle as she rolled her eyes, trying to mask the growing warmth creeping up her neck. “I’m always stiff and weird.”

Cheol hummed in response, unconvinced, leaning back in his chair with the kind of satisfaction that made her want to be annoyed. His arms crossed over his chest, his expression still sharp, still smug, still way too pleased with himself.

“So you don’t like her?”

Sae-Byeok hesitated.

Just for a second.

“She’s fine, I guess…”

Cheol beamed, his grin stretching wide across his face, eyes alight with triumphant glee. “I knew it!” he exclaimed happily, swinging his legs beneath the table, the energy in his voice practically vibrating. He looked like he had just solved the most complex puzzle in the world, and it made Sae-Byeok regret ever opening her mouth, or even sitting down.

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face as if that could wipe away the entire conversation. “Shut up, Cheol. Please.” She murmured exasperatedly.

Cheol didn’t shut up. If anything, her annoyance only fueled his excitement.

“Why? I like her too,” he continued, his voice softening now, the teasing edge replaced by something more genuine. His legs still swung lightly under the table, his tone turning thoughtful, a quiet sort of fondness settling into his words. “She plays with me when nobody else will.”

That caught Sae-Byeok’s attention.

Her brows furrowed slightly, the tension in her body shifting into something different, something softer, less rigid. Her focus snapped back to him, fully present now as she rested her arms on the table, slightly leaning in. “Yeah?...What else does she do?”

“She paints with me,” he said, his words coming slower now, more deliberate, as if he was carefully considering each one. “Even when it’s not painting hour.” He paused, tilting his head, thinking. “She sits next to me during movie nights. And sometimes…” He looked down at his plate, idly pushing around a grain of rice with his spoon. “She eats breakfast and lunch with me when nobody else will.”

Sae-Byeok felt something shift inside her, something she hadn’t been prepared for.

She hadn’t needed reassurance about you—hadn’t even realized she wanted it—but hearing Cheol speak about you with such genuine fondness, with that soft certainty in his voice, made something settle deep in her chest. The tension she had been carrying, the nagging uncertainty that had lurked in the back of her mind, all of it faded just a little.

A small, unguarded smile crept onto Sae-Byeok’s lips before she even realized it. It wasn’t intentional—just a quiet response to the sincerity in her brother’s voice, to the warmth in the way he spoke about you. The ease with which he accepted your presence in his life, the way he found comfort in it, made something in her chest settle. It was strange, this feeling. Foreign but not unwelcome.

Then, suddenly Cheol inhaled so sharply that Sae-Byeok nearly jumped, her muscles instinctively tensing as if preparing for an ambush. Her head snapped toward him, her dreamy smile falling as her eyes narrowed in immediate suspicion.

“What now?” she demanded, already bracing herself for whatever ridiculous idea had just formed in his little menace of a brain.

Cheol’s face was radiant with excitement, his eyes wide with inspiration, his entire body practically vibrating with energy. He slammed his palms onto the table, shaking the plates as he leaned forward with the enthusiasm of someone about to propose the most groundbreaking idea known to mankind.

“We should get Miss Kim a surprise for when she comes back!”

Sae-Byeok hesitated, her first instinct being to shut it down without a second thought. The idea itself wasn’t bad, but it was unnecessary. You weren’t expecting anything. There was no real reason for it. And yet the way Cheol spoke about you so effortlessly, like you had already become part of his world made her heart ache in a way she couldn't ignore.

Her mind betrayed her, wandering back to every small moment, every instance where you had quietly stepped in. The times you had made Cheol’s days a little easier, a little warmer, a little brighter, and the way you did the same for her even when she didn’t treat you with the same kindness, though you deserved it. The way you stayed—not because you had to, but because you wanted to.

And then there was the other, unspoken truth—the one she wasn’t ready to say aloud. That she had been thinking about you more than she should. That she had noticed things she hadn’t meant to notice. That some part of her, deep down, wanted to do something for you, even if she couldn’t fully understand why she wanted to.

“…Alright,” she muttered, forcing the word out before she could change her mind.

Cheol’s entire face lit up, his grin splitting wide as he bounced slightly in his chair, the sheer excitement radiating off of him so intense that it almost made her want to take it back just to spite him.

“She has a favorite snack!” Cheol blurted out, his entire face lighting up with excitement, as if he had just discovered a life-altering secret. His hands slapped the table again for emphasis, rattling the plates and making Sae-Byeok’s patience thin by the second as she grabbed her water bottle from slipping off of the table. “You should buy it for her, Noona!”

Sae-Byeok let out a slow, drawn-out exhale, tilting her head slightly as she leveled him with an unimpressed stare. “You’re so nosy, Cheol,” she muttered, arms crossing over her chest as she watched him practically buzz with satisfaction.

Cheol’s smirk only deepened, the glint in his eyes growing even more insufferable. He lifted his spoon like some kind of royal scepter, as if he had just orchestrated the world’s greatest scheme and was basking in his own brilliance. “Call it what you want but It’s a skill at the end of the day,” he declared smugly, before shoveling another massive bite of rice into his mouth, his confidence completely unshaken.

Sae-Byeok rolled her eyes, but curiosity pricked at the edges of her thoughts despite herself. She shouldn’t have cared, but now that the idea was out there, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Alright, genius. What is it, then?”

Cheol perked up instantly, barely swallowing before responding. “Choco Pies,” he said without hesitation, his grin widening like he had been waiting for her to ask. “She brings them all the time, but only eats half. Always leaves the rest for the kids.” He chewed thoughtfully, then added, “Or for me.”

Sae-Byeok scoffed, shaking her head. “Of course you’d benefit from this somehow.”

Cheol sat back in his chair with the air of a seasoned professional, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin like a miniature businessman finalizing a high-stakes negotiation. His small hands moved with exaggerated precision, folding the napkin neatly before placing it beside his plate, the entire act dripping with self-importance. He exhaled, nodding as if he had just single-handedly solved all of Sae-Byeok’s life problems.

“I’m a businessman,” he announced, his voice carrying the practiced confidence of someone who truly believed it.

Sae-Byeok arched a brow, unimpressed but mildly entertained. “More like a scam artist,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head, though the corner of her lips twitched against her will.

For a split second, Cheol’s eyebrows flicked up in silent acknowledgment, but then his expression shifted. The smirk that stretched across his face was slow and calculated, widening like a secret he had been waiting to drop. His dark eyes glowed with mischief as he leaned in ever so slightly, his voice lowering conspiratorially, his head tilting downward just enough to add an unnecessary layer of drama.

“And a matchmaker,” he whispered, the words slipping from his lips like he was sharing classified information.

Sae-Byeok didn’t even let him revel in his theatrics. Without missing a beat, she plucked a single grain of rice from her tray and flicked it straight at his forehead.

Cheol jerked back, blinking in mild offense as the grain bounced off his skin, his expression shifting into mock betrayal.

“Hey!” he sputtered, rubbing the spot as if she had just inflicted a grievous wound. “That was rude!”

Sae-Byeok smirked, finally allowing herself to enjoy the moment. “Good, at least it finally shut you up.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The sun hung lower in the sky, casting long golden streaks across the pavement as Sae-Byeok stepped out of the orphanage, the cool evening air wrapping around her like a quiet reminder of how much the day had shifted. The distant sounds of children’s laughter still echoed faintly behind her, mingling with the rustling of leaves as a gentle breeze whispered through the streets.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, her steps steady but unhurried as she made her way toward the nearest store. The rhythmic scuff of her sneakers against the sidewalk filled the silence, grounding her, yet her thoughts remained anything but still.

She wasn’t entirely sure why she was doing this. Maybe because Cheol had asked her to, flashing those big, expectant eyes that made it near impossible to deny him anything. Maybe because she hated telling him no—hated the way disappointment looked on his face, how he always seemed to know exactly when she was making excuses.

But even then, that wasn’t a good enough reason.

She had always been firm in her decisions, always known when to draw the line between what she would do and what she wouldn’t. She wasn’t the type to bend so easily, especially not over something as simple as buying a snack.

So why was it so different when it came to you?

Why was it that, despite every rational thought telling her that this was unnecessary, she was still walking toward that store, still thinking about you in ways she couldn’t quite explain? Why did your absence feel noticeable? Why was she remembering the way you lingered around Cheol, the warmth in your voice when you spoke to him, the way he talked about you as if you had already become a part of his world?

The questions pressed at the edges of her mind, quiet but persistent, lingering like shadows that refused to fade.

And no matter how much she told herself this was just for Cheol, just to humor his excitement—

The truth was, that wasn’t entirely why she was there, and a small quiet voice in the back of her head knew it.

i honestly have no idea and i hate the fact that i might have to completely rewrite it. it must've gotten taken down for some reason? idk why. :(

i would be open to doing it! :) i haven't gotten any requests for them so if i possibly got some inspo then id most likely write smthn for them :)

𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝓞𝐧 𝓜𝐲 𝓜𝐢𝐧𝐝

pairing kang sae-byeok x fem!reader | wc: 3.4k

summary → sae-byeok can't get you off of her mind, and ji-yeong notices. warnings → none.

(beneath the quiet masterlist )

12:39am

𝐒𝐀𝐄-𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐃 in bed, her eyes darting across the ceiling decorated with water stains, her fingers splayed across her blanket as she gripped it loosely only to release it, repeating the motion over and over again. Sleep refused to come like it did most nights. Always a lingering reason for why she couldn't sleep. Whether it be the worry of what came next, or the fear of some drug lord kicking down her door because he felt cheated for betting on the wrong girl. No longer was it the acrid scent of bleach seeping in from the locker room next to the employee break room that kept her awake. No, she had long since gotten used to the lingering chemical smell after late-night cleanings at the gym. What kept her from drifting off was the persistent image of you occupying her thoughts.

Sae-Byeok turned to lay on her side, exhaling through her nose as if that would expel the unwanted warmth creeping into her chest, her body exhausted but her mind refusing to quiet. The sheets felt cool against her skin, and the muffled hum of the gym’s old ventilation system filled the silence.

She exhaled sharply, jaw tightening as she shifted her position once again. It was pointless to pretend otherwise. What kept her from drifting off was the persistent image of you occupying her thoughts.

It had started with a simple observation—you had looked more tired than usual today. There had been a weariness in your eyes, subtle but noticeable, a heaviness in your movements that suggested you hadn’t been sleeping well. Sae-Byeok had seen it immediately, even when no one else seemed to. She had watched the way your posture slumped just slightly, how your fingers toyed absentmindedly with the hem of your sleeve.

Sae-Byeok wasn't used to something so small and insignificant as you being tired had stayed in her mind throughout the day, it was strange.

But then, there was the bruise.

A dark, ugly mark decorating your arm, just below the sleeve of your shirt. It hadn’t been there before, she knows it hadn't because it wasn't there the last time she visited when you wore a short-sleeve shirt.

Sae-Byeok was nothing but an observer. Catching sight of it while you were reaching for a spoon, her gaze lingered longer than she intended. A flicker of something unfamiliar twisted in her stomach at the sight. Annoyance? Concern? She wasn’t sure, but she hated the feeling all the same.

She should have said something. Asked.

But what would she have said? Who did that to you? Did someone hurt you? She wasn’t sure what answer she wanted to hear nor was she sure if she was prepared to hear it.

Instead, she had stayed silent, only stealing glances when she thought no one would notice. But the image stuck with her long after, the deep purple of the bruise imprinted in her mind like a phantom stain she couldn’t scrub away.

And now, lying in the quiet of the employee break room, she was still thinking about it. About you.

At first, it was nothing but fleeting worry. Until it drifted off to other things. Small details—harmless things. The way your hair shaped the curve of your face perfectly, the way you pressed your lips together whenever you were lost in thought, the way you always smelled faintly of something sweet despite working with 20+ messy children. But then, like a slow unraveling thread, her mind drifted further, past the point of control. Her thoughts drifting from the bruise on your arm, to your big doe-like eyes.

Her heartbeat faltered for just a quick moment as she pictured your soft gaze..

They held an innocence, a quiet curiosity, but there was something else beneath the surface—something deeper, something unreadable. Sae-Byeok had spent too long trying to decipher that look, trying to figure out if it was ever directed at her in the way only she had imagined and hoped you reciprocated.

And then her thoughts drifted to your lips.

Soft. Full. Always slightly parted, as if you were on the verge of speaking but never quite did. The thought slightly unsettled her as she shifted against the mattress, but she couldn't keep her thoughts away from you.

Her thoughts continued to linger on the soft curve of your lips, the way they might move if you spoke her name in the quiet of the night. Would your voice be as soothing as she imagined? Could it lull her to sleep better than the restless silence surrounding her now?

She wondered how they might feel—if they would be as soft and warm as they looked, if they would move slowly against her own in your own quiet rhythm or if you would take her by surprise.

Have you ever noticed her staring at them? At you?

The thought made something tighten in Sae-Byeok’s chest as she turned once again onto her stomach, pressing her face into her pillow as hard as she could in hopes it could smother the thoughts away. But even in the darkness behind her eyelids and in the softness of her plush pillow, she could only see you.

She hated how you haunted her thoughts, and she hated it even more when you followed her into her dreams.

She barely had time to dwell on herself, let alone anyone else, especially someone as insignificant as a “babysitter” or so she told herself.

No matter how many times she’s tried to shut you out, the maddening truth remained—you lingered in her mind every single day, constantly, and it frustrated her to no end.

Yet, even through her frustration, she couldn’t help but wonder—would your presence ease the restless ache in her bones? If you were by her side, would you run your fingers through her hair, whisper soft reassurances, and hold her close, offering the quiet comfort she didn’t know she needed? Would you make it easier for her to breathe, even just for a moment?

She knew you would. You wouldn't even have to try because everything felt easier around you.

The idea sent a shiver through her, a quiet, unfamiliar ache settling beneath her ribs as she released another restless sigh. Lifting her head from her pillow to press the heels of her hands into her eyes, as if she were trying to scrape the image of you out of her consciousness Silently begging in her head for you to stop haunting her..

She didn’t know why this was happening. Why had you taken up so much space in her mind?

Despite all the times she pushed you away, all the moments she refused to acknowledge you, maybe—just maybe—she didn’t want you to leave.

Maybe she wanted you to stay.

And that realization alone terrified her.

Eventually, her exhaustion had won, slowly pulling her under. But even in sleep, she wasn’t free of you.

You followed her there too—your presence slipping into her dreams like a whisper, threading through the quiet corners of her subconscious. It had been that way ever since the night you first opened your home to her. Since the moment you unknowingly carved a space for yourself in the restless expanse of her mind.

You wrapped around her like a warmth she never realized she had been yearning for, seeping into the hollow spaces she had long convinced herself were unfillable. In her dreams, she let herself sink into that warmth, let herself believe—for just a little while—that it was real. That it was hers to keep. That you were hers to keep. To protect, to love, and to hold.

But the morning was cruel.

The shrill blare of her alarm shattered the illusion, ripping her from sleep with all the subtlety of a knife against glass. Reality yanked her back into the cold, fluorescent-lit sterility of the gym, where the air smelled of lingering bleach and steel, and the walls felt just as unyielding as she had forced herself to become.

The warmth of you faded like a dying ember, slipping through her fingers before she could hold on.

The day began early, the world outside still cloaked in the muted hues of dawn. With a hefty sigh, Sae-Byeok began moving through her morning routine with quiet efficiency—stepping into the cold tile of the women’s locker room, the overhead lights casting a harsh glow against the steel-gray walls.

She let the scalding water of the shower wash over her, steam curling around her like a ghostly embrace. It was a fleeting moment of solitude before the day truly began. By the time she was dressed, her damp hair pulled into a loose ponytail, the gym had begun to stir with the faint hum of early risers.

She met Ji-Yeong in the center of the gym, their movements seamless, familiar. There was no need for words—they had done this routine a hundred times before. Together, they moved with practiced ease, adjusting punching bags so they hung at just the right height, their chains rattling softly with each shift.

The mats needed wiping down, the scent of disinfectant mingling with the lingering musk of sweat and rubber. They checked the gear, ensuring every glove, wrap, and pad was in its place, making sure the space was primed for the trainees who would soon filter in.

It was muscle memory now—preparing the gym for the day ahead, partnered with Ji-yeongs usual sarcastic remarks, tossing playful jabs like she was already in the ring.

“Man, you’re quieter than usual today,” she mused, adjusting the last punching bag before turning to glance at Sae-Byeok. “C’mon, throw a dog a bone here. Am I that unbearable without some back-and-forth?”

Sae-Byeok barely acknowledged her. A noncommittal shrug, a flicker of attention, but nothing more. It wasn’t like she was ever particularly talkative, but today, the silence stretched longer, heavier.

Ji-Yeong huffed, stacking weights onto the rack with exaggerated force. “Great. Guess I’m talking to myself now.”

Sae-Byeok let out a vague sound—half a hum, half a sigh—but her mind was elsewhere. Her hands moved on instinct, tightening wraps, straightening mats, checking the gloves lined up along the wall, but none of it really registered.

Because you were still there. Lingering in her mind like a shadow that refused to fade. Even after hours of sleeping and fighting—both physically and mentally, even through the exhaustion that should’ve drowned out everything else, you remained—woven into the edges of her thoughts, slipping into the quiet spaces she had no control over.

She hated it.

Or at least, she told herself she did.

Ji-Yeong, never one to let a shift in mood go unnoticed, finally turned to face her fully, hands on her hips. “Alright, what’s up with you?”

Sae-Byeok blinked, the question pulling her out of her thoughts. “What?”

Ji-Yeong narrowed her eyes. “Don’t ‘what’ me. You’ve been weird all morning.”

“I’m fine,” Sae-Byeok said, too quickly, too flatly.

Ji-Yeong snorted. “Yeah, okay. And I’m a professional ballerina.” She leaned in, studying her closely, as if trying to read something beyond Sae-Byeok’s carefully guarded expression. “Did something happen?”

“No.”

Ji-Yeong didn’t look convinced. “You sure? Because if you’re secretly planning to rob a bank or something, I’d love to be included.”

Sae-Byeok exhaled sharply through her nose, shaking her head. “You watch too many movies.”

“And you dodge questions like it’s your full-time job,” Ji-Yeong shot back, smirking. She nudged Sae-Byeok with her elbow, a playful yet probing gesture. “Seriously though, if something’s messing with your head, you know you can talk to me, right?”

Sae-Byeok hesitated for half a second—so quick that most people wouldn’t have caught it. But Ji-Yeong wasn’t most people.

Her smirk softened slightly, the teasing edge still there but gentler now. “Just putting it out there. In case, you know, someone is occupying your thoughts more than usual.”

Sae-Byeok tensed. The instinct to deflect, to shut down, to deny, flared up instantly. But she forced herself to keep her expression neutral.

“It’s nothing,” she said, grabbing a towel and turning away before Ji-Yeong could see anything crack through the surface.

Ji-Yeong sighed, stretching her arms over her head as she let the conversation drop—for now.

“Alright, alright,” she relented. “But just so you know, ‘nothing’ doesn’t usually look like you staring off into space every five minutes.” She grinned, slinging an arm around Sae-Byeok’s shoulder for half a second before stepping back. “But hey, keep your secrets. I’ll just be here, suffering in silence, tragically left out of whatever’s messing with your head.”

Sae-Byeok rolled her eyes, but a small—very small—smirk tugged at her lips.

Ji-Yeong caught it.

“Ah-ha! Emotion!” she declared triumphantly, pointing at her. “I knew I’d get something out of you.”

Sae-Byeok shook her head, but before Ji-Yeong could press further, the first few trainees trickled into the gym, breaking whatever thread of conversation they had left.

Ji-Yeong stretched once more, shooting Sae-Byeok a final glance before turning toward the newcomers. “Alright, let’s get to work.”

And just like that, the moment passed.

But even as they slipped back into routine, even as Sae-Byeok focused on the day ahead, she couldn’t shake the truth that had been gnawing at her from the start.

It wasn’t nothing.

And no matter how much she tried to push it away, she knew it wouldn’t stay buried for long.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Hours passed, the steady rhythm of the gym fading as trainees filtered out one by one. The clatter of weights, the sharp echoes of punches meeting pads, the low hum of conversation—all of it slowly gave way to silence, leaving only the faint hum of the overhead lights and the sound of their own breathing.

By closing time, it was just the two of them. Which meant one thing—training together.

Sae-Byeok barely needed to exchange words with Ji-Yeong as they stepped into the ring, slipping into their routine as naturally as breathing. They squared up, circling each other, gauging movements, waiting for the first strike. It was muscle memory now—the sharp snap of a jab, the instinctive dodge, the controlled counter.

But something was off.

Ji-Yeong could tell almost immediately.

Sae-Byeok’s form was the same, her stance solid, her reflexes sharp—but there was a hesitation, a split-second delay in her movements that shouldn’t have been there. She wasn’t fully present.

Ji-Yeong exploited it without mercy. She faked left, then sent a swift jab toward Sae-Byeok’s side, expecting her to dodge. She didn’t.

The impact wasn’t hard, more of a tap than an actual hit, but Ji-Yeong immediately dropped her guard and leaned back against the ropes with an exaggerated sigh.

“Alright, what the hell is up with you today?”

Sae-Byeok exhaled sharply, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist. “Nothing.”

Ji-Yeong’s smirk widened. “Oh, it’s definitely something.” She tapped her chin in mock thought, drawing out the moment. “Let me guess…” She snapped her fingers like she had just solved the greatest mystery of the century. “You got a little crush on someone, don't you?”

Sae-Byeok scoffed, reaching for her water bottle, her movements carefully indifferent.

Ji-Yeong, of course, wasn’t buying it.

“Wait—” Her eyes lit up with sudden mischief, her lips curling into a knowing grin. “Is it a boy?”

The sheer disgust that flickered across Sae-Byeok’s face was all the confirmation Ji-Yeong needed.

She cackled, pointing at her like she had just caught her in a lie. “Ohh, it’s a girl, huh?” She nudged Sae-Byeok’s arm, grinning. “Kinda figured. Never really took you as someone who liked boys anyway.”

Sae-Byeok huffed, rolling her eyes as she took a long, deliberate sip from her water bottle, refusing to dignify Ji-Yeong’s teasing with an answer.

“Hey, no shame in it,” Ji-Yeong said with a casual shrug, unwrapping the tape from her hands and tossing it onto the bench. “If anything, you’ve got good taste. She must be cute if she’s got you spacing out like this.”

Sae-Byeok ignored the remark, focusing instead on shutting down the gym for the night. She moved through the gym with quiet precision, her body on autopilot as she wiped down the last of the equipment, ensuring everything was in place before locking up for the night. The scent of sweat and disinfectant lingered in the air, the steady hum of fluorescent lights casting elongated shadows across the mats. She focused on the routine, on the muscle memory of closing down a space she knew as well as the back of her hand.

Ji-Yeong, of course, didn’t make it easy.

She trailed after her, tossing out playful remarks, nudging at the edges of Sae-Byeok’s silence, waiting for her to crack. It was the same as always—Ji-Yeong’s way of getting under her skin, of making her react, of reminding her that she wasn’t as unreadable as she liked to think she was.

And usually, Sae-Byeok would roll her eyes, brush her off, dismiss her entirely.

But tonight, she didn’t mind.

Because even if Ji-Yeong was teasing, even if she was just poking fun, there was something comforting about the way she noticed things. About the way she never pushed too hard, never pried with the intent to unravel, but instead just existed beside her, offering the kind of easy companionship that Sae-Byeok had never quite known how to accept.

She didn’t have to say anything. Didn’t have to spell out the tangled mess of thoughts she refused to acknowledge. Ji-Yeong already understood, in that frustratingly effortless way of hers.

Sae-Byeok wouldn’t talk about the way her mind had been preoccupied all day, about the way you had taken up space in her thoughts without permission. She wouldn’t admit that her usual focus had been shaken, that there was an unfamiliar warmth lingering beneath her ribs, something unnamed and unsettling.

But Ji-Yeong didn’t need her to.

She just threw out her jokes, her playful nudges, her knowing glances—never demanding anything, never forcing Sae-Byeok to confront what she wasn’t ready to.

And somehow, that was enough.

So Sae-Byeok let her talk. Let her tease. Let her existence fill the space where words might have gone.

Because even if she wouldn’t say it outright, it was nice.

Having someone like Ji-Yeong.

Having someone who knew when to push, and when to simply stay.

With the gym locked up for the night, the world outside greeted them with a sharp contrast—the crisp night air wrapping around their sweat-cooled skin, the distant hum of traffic, the neon glow of streetlights casting long streaks of color onto the pavement. The city was still alive, even at this hour, buzzing with movement and voices that blurred into the background like a song on low volume.

The exhaustion of the day clung to Sae-Byeok’s limbs, but it wasn’t heavy—not in the way that weighed her down. It was the good kind, the kind that came from a body well-used, from muscles worked to their limit, from the familiarity of routine.

Ji-Yeong stretched her arms over her head with an exaggerated groan before stuffing her hands into her hoodie pockets. “Food?”

Sae-Byeok didn’t hesitate. “Obviously.”

They fell into step beside each other, the chill of the night a stark contrast to the heat that still clung to their skin. Sae-Byeok tucked her hands into her hoodie, glancing at Ji-Yeong with a smirk. “You’re paying.”

Ji-Yeong scoffed, shooting her an incredulous look. “Oh, come on. You don’t have any more viper money to spare on little ol’ me?”

Sae-Byeok groaned, tilting her head back. “You know how my last fight went.”

Ji-Yeong chuckled, her grin widening as she bumped her shoulder lightly against Sae-Byeok’s. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. But next time, you better win. I have a taste for Korean BBQ, not some sad, gas station ramen.”

Sae-Byeok huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she nudged Ji-Yeong’s elbow in retaliation. “Well, you better start saving up too, then.”

Ji-Yeong clicked her tongue, feigning offense. “Wow. So now I have to treat you?” She sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “I swear, the things I put up with for you…”

Sae-Byeok rolled her eyes, but she didn’t bother hiding the smirk that lingered on her lips.

For a moment, with the cool air easing the tightness in her chest, with Ji-Yeong’s familiar presence beside her, she allowed herself to not fight it.

The thoughts.

The feeling.

The quiet tug of something she wasn’t sure she fully understood.

She didn’t know why you had taken up so much space in her mind—why your presence lingered long after you were gone, why she caught herself searching for you in quiet moments when she should have been focused on anything else.

But maybe… maybe she wasn’t so sure she wanted to fight it anymore.

Maybe, it was something she could get used to.

NEW ENTRY ! NEW ENTRY ! NEW ENTRY ! NEW ENTRY !

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

LEE YOO-MI as JI-YEONG

"what's a life without excitement?"

You signed up for the show on a whim—a fleeting thought that maybe it’d be fun or at least a distraction from the monotony of life. Sae-byeok? She signed up as a joke, spurred on by too many drinks and a group of friends who swore it’d be hilarious to see her on TV. Neither of you thought much of it at the time. It was just a game, just a show.

The premise was simple: a group of men and women trapped on an island, encouraged to couple up, to fall into neatly arranged romances, basically Singles Inferno. It was a playground for drama, with producers pulling the strings to keep the audience hooked. You could feel the manipulation everywhere—in the carefully staged dates, in the scripted confessions, in the glittering, fake perfection of it all.

But then there was Sae-byeok. Quiet, sharp, and a little too guarded for the cameras. At first, she barely glanced your way, her icy demeanor making it clear she wasn’t here to play along. But that only drew you in. There was something about her, a fire behind her eyes that made the rest of the contestants fade into the background.

And you weren’t the only one feeling it. She noticed you too—the way you didn’t quite fit into the glossy mold of the show, the way your laughter felt real in a world built on pretense. At first, it was harmless. Just passing glances, sarcastic remarks exchanged in the shadows of group dates. But the pull between you was undeniable.

The problem? The show wasn’t designed for this. It wasn’t designed for you and her. The rules—and the cameras—made it clear: men and women were meant to pair up, to follow the script. Anything else was a deviation, a scandal waiting to happen. And the producers weren’t about to let their carefully curated narrative be derailed.

Every stolen moment with Sae-byeok felt like walking a razor’s edge. A fleeting touch when no one was looking, a hushed conversation under the cover of night, the electric tension whenever your eyes met across the room. The world around you was loud and contrived, but with her, everything felt quiet, raw, and real.

But reality shows feed on drama, and the producers weren’t blind to what was happening. Whispers started to spread among the contestants. They tried to separate you—pair you off with others, manufacture jealousy, push you back into the roles you were supposed to play.

Yet, the more they tried to pull you apart, the harder it became to stay away from each other. Loving Sae-byeok in a world that wanted you to conform felt dangerous, reckless…but it was also exhilarating. Every moment together was a rebellion, a refusal to bend to their rules.

You didn’t sign up for this. Neither of you did. But amidst the manufactured chaos of the show, you’d found something real—something that felt worth fighting for, even if it meant risking everything.

I will not be posting Friday and Saturday. Both days are extremely busy and will give me no room to write, proof-read, and post in a timeframe I would be comfortable with. I don't want my work to be rushed, I want everyone to have a good reading experience, which is why I won't post again until Sunday.

I'm also gonna do my absolute best to squeeze out one more 'BTQ' Chapter before Friday and Saturday come but I don't know how things will go. There will be possible brief moments where I hop online just to see any feedback and how my works are doing but still, there will be no fics posted until Sunday.

I hope you all understand, and thank you for reading <333