Chaewon and reader build a cute romance
You arrived at LE SSERAFIM’s dorm a little later than planned, and to your chagrin, Sakura and Toji were already gone.
“Damn it, Kura and Toji,” you muttered, sighing.
“I said five minutes late, not fifty,” you grumbled, checking your watch. “Two and a half minutes. This is total BS.”
Your phone buzzed with a message. It was from Sakura.
Sakura: Hey Denji, just saw your text. Sorry! Toji and I decided to make it a date day when you didn’t show 💕
You rolled your eyes and groaned quietly. “Seriously? Two minutes late and I’m ghosted.”
Just as you turned to leave, the sound of soft footsteps padded into the living room. You looked up to see Chaewon standing in the doorway, wearing an oversized hoodie and blinking at you like a curious cat.
“Oh—it’s you. Denji, right?” she asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yep, that’s me. How are you, Chaewon?”
She smiled—small and teasing. “I’m good. But you’re late,” she said, mock-scolding.
You sighed. “Yeah… My ex tried calling out of nowhere. Wanted to talk about getting back together.”
Chaewon’s brows furrowed. “And… she’s in the U.S., right?”
“Yeah. She’s in the States. I’m in Korea. So… impossible.”
She tilted her head, studying you. “So… if she flew out here, would you get back with her?”
You shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Not even a little bit.”
Chaewon laughed—bright and bubbly—and did that nose scrunch she was famous for, the one that had an annoying tendency to melt hearts.
“Don’t you dare,” you said, pointing at her accusingly.
She blinked, surprised. “What? What did I do?”
“You did the flirty nose scrunch. I saw it. I’m not falling for that today.”
Chaewon grinned mischievously. “Why not?”
“Because I’ll fall in love with you, and I’m trying to remain emotionally neutral around you people.”
That earned a soft laugh from her. “You’re funny, Denji.”
She stepped closer, her sweet, innocent brown eyes locking onto yours—and suddenly your heart was doing laps in your chest.
“Chae,” you said, a bit more curtly than intended.
Chaewon’s lips curled into a teasing smile. “Oh, so I’m Chae now?”
Your eyes drifted—just for a second. The modest dip of her neckline, the short dress framing her toned legs and thighs. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Where are you looking, Denji?” she asked, faux-innocent, her tone all sugar and mischief.
You let out a breath. “Chaewon… I’m not trying to start anything—no relationship, no fling. Please stop being so cute.”
She puffed her cheeks and looked away for a beat, voice softer when she replied. “But I am cute. That’s what everyone says.”
There was a trace of something in her tone—wistfulness, maybe even weariness. She backed off just slightly, and for a moment you felt like the air between you shifted.
“Chae…” you said, more gently now. “You’re one of the most desirable women on this planet. Seriously. But please—don’t flirt with me like this. It’s not fair.”
Chaewon giggled, bright and amused again. “That's why I like you most out of Toji’s Alt friends. You always say the nicest things… with the biggest words,” she teased, tilting her head.
Then she switched gears, stepping back with a playful sigh. “Fine, I’ll stop. No more teasing. But… can we get food? I’m still waiting on my license, and all the other girls who can drive are gone.”
You hesitated, feeling like you’d just barely escaped something dangerous—but your stomach betrayed you with a low grumble.
“Fine,” you muttered, feigning reluctance. “Where to?”
Chaewon beamed as she’d just scored a personal victory.
“KBBQ,” she declared with bright-eyed enthusiasm.
You nodded, resigned to your fate. “Alright, go pack your things. I’ll warm up the car.”
She skipped off with her usual silly little steps, her oversized sleeves flapping slightly as she disappeared down the hallway. You couldn’t help but smile.
The two of you pulled up to a cozy KBBQ joint she and Sakura apparently swore by. Familiar, tucked-away, and brimming with mouthwatering smells the second you step in. As you sat down across from her in the booth, it finally dawned on you.
This wasn’t just a ride for food.
This was a date.
And she knew it.
Chaewon bounced a little in her seat, humming to herself as she scanned the menu—even though you were both ordering the usual. There was a twinkle in her eye, a barely-suppressed grin dancing on her lips.
When the sizzling meats finally arrived, she looked at you and murmured under her breath, just loud enough for you to hear:
“Victory never tasted so good.”
You gave a long, drawn-out sigh and picked up your tongs, giving in to the moment.
“You know,” she said, flipping a strip of pork belly, “out of all of Benimaru’s friends… you’re definitely the sweetest.”
You raised a brow, then she leaned her chin into her hand with a sly little smile.
“Sweetest, huh? Is that your way of saying I’m your favorite?” You ask while avoiding her gaze, focusing very seriously on the grill.
“I said what I said.” She said smugly before laughing.
Her laugh lit up the table, soft and satisfied, like she already knew she was winning.
She giggled and leaned closer again, close enough for you to smell her shampoo—something floral, soft, familiar now. She reached across the table with her chopsticks and stole a piece of pork belly off the grill before it was even finished searing.
“Too early,” you warned.
“I like things a little raw,” she said casually, then popped it into her mouth.
You blinked.
Mistake number two: reacting to that.
Chaewon chewed slowly, eyes locked on yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she swallowed.
“So…” she said after a moment, “hypothetically—if this were a date, how would I be doing so far?”
Your grip tightened slightly on the tongs. “Hypothetically? You’d be doing dangerously well.”
She grinned, clearly pleased.
“But fortunately for me,” you added, “this isn’t a date.”
Chaewon feigned a pout. “Could’ve fooled me. Romantic food? Late-night vibes? Me looking impossibly cute?”
“Not fair,” you muttered, flipping a piece of meat.
“What’s not fair?” she said, voice dipping lower, more serious now—but still playful. “That I’m here with you? That I’m making you flustered? Or that you’re trying so hard not to flirt back?”
You glanced up—and found her closer again, arms folded on the edge of the table, watching you with the focus of a cat toying with a bird. It was intoxicating and infuriating all at once.
You cleared your throat. “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?”
You gave her a look.
She shrugged, grinning. “Only with people I like.”
That shut you up for a beat. You went back to flipping meat in silence, but you could feel her watching you—watching the way your ears turned red, the way your fingers tapped restlessly against the tongs.
And for the first time tonight… You weren’t sure if she was teasing anymore.
The last of the pork belly was sizzling on the grill when Chaewon leaned back with a satisfied sigh, her hands resting on her stomach.
“That was so good,” she mumbled, a dreamy look on her face.
You nodded, wiping your hands with a napkin. “Yeah. This place lives up to the hype.”
Before you could even reach for your wallet, Chaewon was already pulling out hers.
“Hey—” you started.
“Nope,” she said, standing and heading for the counter. “You drove. I’m buying. Don’t ruin the balance of the universe.”
You blinked as she walked off like it was the most normal thing in the world. Confident. Casual. Cute as hell. You sighed and leaned back in the booth, watching her from across the room.
She paid, thanked the cashier, and returned with that same glimmer in her eye.
“So…” she said, drawing out the word as she slipped her phone back into her bag. “Ice cream?”
You stared at her. “After all that?”
She grinned. “I have a second stomach. It’s strictly dessert real estate.”
You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Sure. Let’s do it.”
As you walked out into the warm night air, you glanced over at her. Chaewon wasn’t just glowing—she was beaming, like the world was exactly as it should be. You hated how impressed you were. She’d eaten like a champ and was still bouncing at the idea of dessert. It was… kind of hot, actually.
You tried not to think about it too hard.
The two of you walked side by side, her arm occasionally brushing yours, and you tried to ignore how easy it all felt—how right it felt.
“Hey,” she said suddenly, “do you think you could teach me how to play Monster Hunter sometime?”
You blinked. “Wait, seriously?”
“Yeah. Sakura and Eunbi have been playing it lately. I tried to watch but I had no idea what was happening. Too many lizards and weird swords.”
You laughed. “That’s accurate, actually.”
“But like… if you showed me, I might actually learn. You’re good at explaining stuff.”
You gave her a look. “When have I ever explained anything to you?”
“Right now,” she said, smirking. “You’re explaining why you should teach me.”
You sighed again—same one from earlier, the one that meant you were giving in and she knew it.
“Alright. I’ll teach you.”
Chaewon clapped her hands once and spun toward you with glee. “Yay! Ice cream and game night. This is a date.”
You gave her a sharp look.
She just smiled.
The dorm was quiet… suspiciously quiet.
Chaewon stepped inside, humming softly to herself, swinging a half-eaten cone of mint chocolate ice cream in her hand. She paused when she noticed three figures in the living room.
Sakura, curled up against Toji on the couch, lifted her head the moment the door clicked shut. Yunjin was sprawled across the carpet, feet in the air and attention half on her phone, half on whatever was about to go down.
All three looked at her.
“…What?” Chaewon blinked, halfway through a lick.
Sakura arched a brow. “Where were you?”
“Toji made popcorn for movie night,” Yunjin added. “We saved you a spot. And by saved I mean I sat in it until someone told me not to.”
Chaewon looked down at her cone. “Oh. I, uh… had dinner.”
“With who?” Sakura asked, leaning forward now, her expression teetering between amused and mildly betrayed.
Chaewon opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Just… Denji.”
Toji let out a low whistle. Yunjin sat up like a meerkat.
“Ohhh, just Denji, huh?” Yunjin grinned. “You had a full dinner and now dessert? With Denji?”
Chaewon raised a hand. “It wasn’t like that.”
Sakura narrowed her eyes. “Did you pay?”
“…Maybe.”
Yunjin gasped theatrically. “Oh, she paid. It’s real.”
“I always pay!” Chaewon defended. “I mean—not always, but—he drove!”
“So you guys went somewhere nice,” Sakura said, now visibly enjoying this.
“It was just KBBQ!” Chaewon exclaimed, then immediately regretted how defensive that sounded.
Toji chuckled. “You guys share a grill?”
Chaewon glared at him. “What kind of question is that?!”
“The relevant kind,” Yunjin said, absolutely feeding off the tension now. “And let me guess—he let you pick the meat cuts, flipped them perfectly, and called you cute without meaning to?”
Chaewon pursed her lips and turned away.
Yunjin gasped again. “He did, didn’t he?”
Sakura leaned back into Toji with a proud grin. “Our little leader is out on a stealth date. Who would’ve thought?”
“It wasn’t a date,” Chaewon mumbled, licking her cone and avoiding eye contact. “He literally said, and I quote, ‘this isn’t a date.’”
Yunjin grinned widely. “Yeah, but he meant ‘this can’t be a date or I’ll fall in love with you and ruin everything.’”
Chaewon paused.
“…Okay, he didn’t say that.”
“But he said it with his eyes, didn’t he?” Yunjin asked, dead serious.
Sakura nudged Toji and whispered, “They’re falling for each other, and he’s trying not to.”
“I’m right here,” Chaewon muttered.
“Don’t worry,” Yunjin said with a wink. “We’ll pretend we don’t know when you sneak off for your next ‘non-date.’ Just… bring leftovers next time.”
Chaewon turned red and headed toward her room, muttering something about “traitors” and “never trusting Yunjin again.”
“Goodnight, lover girl,” Sakura called after her, sing-song.
Chaewon didn’t respond. But her shoulders were shaking.
From laughter.
The dorm had settled into that comforting, late-night stillness. Faint city sounds hummed beyond the window. Chaewon lay sprawled on her bed, phone in one hand.
Her lips were still curled in a small smile. One of those sleepy, genuine ones that stick around long after the fun ends.
Ding.
She checked her phone, hoping it was from him.
It wasn’t. Just a notification. She locked it again.
“…ugh.” She tossed the phone face down.
Her eyes wandered to the ceiling as she replayed the night in fragments. The look he gave her when she leaned in. The way his voice cracked when she teased him. How he sighed like he was surrendering, even though he tried to sound annoyed.
He always sounded annoyed.
But not really.
Chaewon rolled onto her side, hugging a pillow to her chest.
“Not a date,” she whispered to herself, mimicking his tone.
She giggled softly.
He’d let her pick the songs in the car. He didn’t complain when she stole his rice paper wrap. He called her one of the most desirable women on the planet like he was physically pained to admit it.
And he meant it.
That’s what stuck with her.
He meant it.
Chaewon stared at the pillow, cheeks warming. “What if it was a date…?”
She bit her lip and sat up suddenly, shaking the thought away.
“No, no, no. Too fast. He’s not like that,” she muttered, fanning herself dramatically as she stood up and began pacing the room.
But her hand hovered over her phone again.
For a second, she considered texting him something dumb. A meme. A “get home safe.” Thanks for the ‘not-date’ date.
Instead, she opened her notes app and started typing:
“Denji looked good tonight.
Like… distractingly good.
Why does he act like he’s not aware of it?
Or worse, maybe he is, and he’s just being kind.
I’m not gonna fall for him.
…Right?”
She stared at it for a while.
Then she locked her phone and curled up under the covers, heart thudding.
“…Right.”
A few days later in the Le Sserafim dorm. The room was quiet except for the occasional shuffle of hangers sliding along the closet rod.
Chaewon stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of a cropped sweater that clung just right and showed just enough. Her denim skirt hugged her hips snugly, and her hair was fluffed to perfection. She squinted at her reflection.
Not too much, right?
She pouted her lips slightly, tilted her head left… then right.
Nope—she looked good.
She didn’t even remember picking this outfit. She’d just started pulling pieces together without thinking, letting her hands move on instinct. The result was dangerously close to “going-out-to-see-a-boy” levels of cute.
She stepped back, gave a little spin, and nodded at herself in the mirror.
Knock knock.
Kazuha pushed the door open, earbuds in and smoothie in hand. She stopped mid-sip.
“…Are you going on a date?” she asked, deadpan.
Chaewon blinked. “What?”
Kazuha gestured to her outfit. “You look like you’re about to make someone fall in love with you.”
Chaewon looked down at herself. The fitted top. The skirt. The perfectly glossed lips. The body spray she didn’t normally wear unless it was for a shoot.
She froze.
“I—I just… " It’s warm today,” she stammered, tugging at the sweater’s sleeve.
“It’s been warm all week,” Kazuha replied with a soft smirk, leaning against the doorframe. “What’s different today?”
Chaewon opened her mouth. Closed it. Then slowly turned back to the mirror.
Why did I even put this on?
That’s when the answer hit her like a soft, embarrassing slap.
Denji’s coming over.
Sakura had mentioned it this morning in passing—Denji was swinging by to return a charger, maybe hang out if anyone was free. Chaewon hadn’t even registered the information when she started getting dressed.
She tugged the hem of the sweater down again.
“I wasn’t—” she began, then gave up. “It’s not a date.”
Kazuha raised both eyebrows. “But you wish it were?”
Chaewon scoffed, grabbed a hoodie off the back of her chair, and pulled it over her head with exaggerated force.
“Shut up.”
Kazuha giggled, sipping her smoothie again. “He’s cute though. And he likes you being a loser. Very rare.”
“I said shut up, Zuha,” Chaewon muttered, pulling her hair out from the hoodie collar.
She caught her own reflection again—baggy hoodie, soft joggers, no more gloss.
Safer. Simpler. Invisible, almost.
She exhaled slowly.
“You’re not hiding from him,” Kazuha added gently, watching her. “You’re just… figuring it out.”
Chaewon looked away, her voice low.
“Yeah. Figuring it out.”
Kazuha smiled softly and headed toward the door.
“I’ll tell him you’re ‘just chilling’ if he asks,” she said, walking out.
Chaewon sat on her bed and stared down at the cropped sweater she’d discarded.
She didn’t regret putting it on.
But she wasn’t ready to wear it for him.
Not yet.
You knock once and step inside, already familiar with the sound of laughter and faint music drifting from the living room.
“Denji!” Yunjin calls from the couch, holding up a bowl of chips like a welcome offering. “Right on time.”
Sakura peeks out from the kitchen. “You missed Toji by like five minutes. He ran off with my tote bag again.”
Kazuha waves lazily from the floor, where she’s doing stretches with one earbud in. “He probably thinks it’s his again.”
You raise both hands like a visiting diplomat. “Ladies. You all look dangerously radiant today. Is this a trap?”
Yunjin grins. “Maybe.”
Chaewon glances up from her phone, curled in one corner of the couch. “We’re not that scary.”
You shrug. “Speak for yourself. I’ve seen you out-eat three idols and a backup dancer.”
That earns a round of laughter, including a cheeky little grin from Chaewon. She’s in an oversized hoodie, legs curled up, hair poofy. Comfortable. Cozy.
You sit on the floor, placing your Switch case on the coffee table.
“Came to drop off Sakura’s charger, but I figured I’d hang out if anyone was around.”
“Bad timing,” Sakura says, drying her hands. “We’re heading out. Grocery run. It’s our turn for kitchen duty.”
Kazuha sits up. “Want to come with us?”
Yunjin smirks. “Or do you wanna stay here with Chaewon?”
You raise an eyebrow. “That sounded loaded.”
Chaewon shrugs. “They’re always like this.”
Sakura tosses a hoodie over her shoulder. “Chaewon, you good staying in?”
“Yeah,” she replies casually, not looking up from her phone. “I’ll keep him busy.”
And just like that, one by one, they vanish out the door.
Leaving you alone. With her.
A beat of silence lingers in the space where laughter used to be.
You glance toward her, ready to make a joke to break the tension, but something about the way she’s quietly fiddling with the hem of her hoodie stops you.
Instead, you clear your throat. “Hey, you still wanted to learn Monster Hunter, right?”
Her head lifts immediately, a spark lighting up her eyes. “Wait, really? You brought your Switch?”
You nod and unzip the case. “Sakura left hers, and I know she’s got Rise on it. You got a save file yet?”
“Not even close.”
“Then let’s start one.”
You slide the console over to her, watching her create a new character. She goes full chaos mode on the customization—bright eyes, asymmetrical bangs, naming her Palico something like Milkshake.
You smirk. “You’re taking this very seriously.”
“Obviously,” she replies. “I need Milkshake to emotionally support me in battle.”
Once she’s through the intro cutscene, you grab your own Switch and boot up your save.
“Alright,” you say, scooting closer. “I’ll keep it simple. There’s a ton to learn, but the beauty of Rise is that it lets you get into the action without thirty tutorials and a dissertation on gathering mushrooms.”
She laughs. “Bless.”
“Now, two weapon choices for beginners: hammer or great sword. Both are heavy hitters. Hammer is more mobile. Great sword is all raw power, big swings, and timing.”
She hums thoughtfully. “Which one makes things go ‘bonk’ the most?”
You look at her, deadpan. “Definitely hammer.”
“Then bonk it is.”
You show her the basics—stamina, wirebugs, how to charge attacks, what not to do when a Rathian is staring directly at you.
Chaewon watches intently, lips slightly parted, nodding like she’s being given sacred information. Every now and then she mimics your movements or repeats your instructions under her breath, brows furrowed in focus.
She looks… adorable.
“I like that it’s not overly complicated,” she says, swinging her hammer at a dummy target in the training area. “Everything’s really… responsive.”
You nod, a bit surprised. “You pick up fast.”
“Years of rhythm games. You’d be surprised how much it translates.”
You let out a soft laugh. “Great. You’re gonna main hammer and out-DPS me in two hunts, aren’t you?”
She gives you a smug side-eye. “Is that your way of flirting?”
“Would it work if it were?”
She pauses just long enough for it to feel loaded, then grins and goes back to swinging.
The tension’s still there—light, teasing—but there’s a comfort to it now. It’s two people slowly easing into something neither of you is ready to name yet. But it’s there. In the couch cushions between you. In the way she nudges your knee with hers every time she lands a clean hit.
And in the way you don’t pull away.
The living room lights are dimmed now, and the outside world has melted into crickets and neon.
Chaewon and Chaewon sit shoulder to shoulder on the couch, both curled forward over your Switches. Her brow is furrowed in intense concentration, tongue peeking slightly between her lips. Your posture is relaxed—but focused, thumbs moving with the kind of speed that only comes from muscle memory and borderline obsession.
“BONK,” Chaewon exclaims proudly, landing a fully-charged hammer swing right to the head of a Barroth. It staggers.
You nod approvingly. “Perfect timing. That’s a knockdown.”
She beams. “I love this weapon.”
“You’re kinda terrifying with it.”
“You say that like it’s not the highest compliment.”
You both laugh, settling into a natural rhythm as the monster limps away. Chaewon wipes her hands on her hoodie sleeves, glancing over at his screen. You're playing longsword, effortlessly chaining counters and dodges with precise timing.
She watches for a second, then blurts out, “Why don’t you ever play with Sakura or Eunbi?”
You don’t look up from your screen right away.
“They’re playing Monster Hunter: Wilds,” you say finally. “And I… kind of hate that game.”
Chaewon raises a brow. “Seriously? It’s the new one, right? Everyone’s obsessed.”
You sigh. You finish off the monster, sheathing your weapon as the quest rewards screen fades in.
“Yeah, it’s technically impressive,” you admit. “The graphics are gorgeous. The maps are massive. The monsters have ‘realistic’ behavior. But in chasing realism, they made everything feel like a chore.”
Chaewon tilts her head. “How so?”
You finally set your Switch down and lean back, eyes on the ceiling.
“The graphic palette is all muddled so in the latter half of the game, you can’t tell what’s going on or what things are in the background clearly. The music is not as good. Way fewer monsters for more money. Menus are bloated. Half the game is just waiting.”
She watches you with a quiet smile. It’s the most she’s heard you talk at once without sarcasm or teasing in your voice.
“I get what they were going for,” you continue. “Immersion. Danger. Weight. But it’s like… they forgot that Monster Hunter used to be fun because it was clean. You hit a big monster with a big weapon and tried not to get carted. That was it. Pure loop. No fluff.”
Chaewon nods slowly, absorbing your words. “So that’s why you’re still playing Rise?”
“Yeah,” you say, rubbing the back of your neck. “It’s tight. It’s snappy. It respects your time. It might not have bleeding-edge tech or weather effects that change dynamically—but it feels good. It plays well. That’s what matters to me.”
She leans forward again, picking her Switch back up. “So basically… you’re a monster hunter purist.”
You groan. “Kinda… but you say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Chaewon shrugs, her voice softer now. “No. I think it’s cool.”
There’s a beat of quiet as they return to their screens. But something in the air has shifted—just a little. She’s watching you with more than just admiration now. There’s curiosity there. Maybe something else.
“…Hey,” she says suddenly, looking at him sidelong. “Thanks for teaching me. I didn’t think I’d get into it.”
“You’re a natural,” you reply, nudging her arm gently. “Besides, it’s nice having a hunting partner who doesn’t yell when I forget to bring traps.”
She laughs, nudging him back. “I’m keeping a list.”
The quest ended long ago. Now the Switches sit idle on the coffee table, joy-cons blinking lazily in sleep mode. The only sounds are the hum of the AC and the occasional soft click from Chaewon’s water bottle as she fiddles with it.
You lean back on the couch, head resting against the cushion, eyes half-lidded. Chaewon sits beside him with her knees pulled to her chest, hoodie sleeves covering her hands.
She breaks the silence with a question that feels like a pebble thrown into still water:
“Were you always like this?”
You don’t turn your head. “Like what?”
“…Careful.”
You exhale slowly, a wry smile forming. “You say that like it’s a flaw.”
“I didn’t say it was.” Her voice is calm, but direct. “Just wondering where it came from.”
You're quiet for a moment. Then:
“I’ve done the relationship thing before,” you start. “The whole ‘talk every day, care about each other’s meals, text good morning like your life depends on it’ thing.”
Chaewon listens, not interrupting.
“And for a while, it’s nice,” you continue. “But then people start… changing the rules. They act differently. Friends turn into strangers. Enemies suddenly pretend to know you. Every feeling becomes a transaction. Every small mistake becomes a symbol of something bigger.”
You shake your head.
“You start off laughing together and end up calculating each other.”
Chaewon swallows softly. “That sounds lonely.”
“It was,” you admit. “But I’d rather be lonely and clear-headed than tangled in a situation that turns into a wreck.”
You glance at her now, eyes steady but a little tired. “You ever see two people pretend to love each other just because they don’t know how to stop? Or worse—one of them falls out of love and the other keeps hanging on, waiting for a version of the past that isn’t coming back?”
She nods. Slowly.
“Yeah,” she says quietly. “I’ve seen that.”
You watch her for a moment. “Then you get it.”
“I do.”
A silence settles in. But it’s not tense. It’s understanding. Thick with unspoken things neither of you wants to push yet.
Then Chaewon offers something light to gently shift the tone:
“Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think I’d ever text you good morning.”
You chuckle. “Thanks. That’d be terrifying.”
“And I don’t want anything from you,” she adds. “I just… like being around you.”
You look at her, and for once, she doesn’t deflect with a joke. Instead:
“…I like being around you too.”
She smiles. Soft. Warm. Real.
“Then maybe we just… stay here. Like this. No titles. No expectations.”
You nod. “Just two hunters.”
She grins. “Two hunters… with really good synergy.”
You share a quiet laugh, and for now, that’s enough. No promises. No stakes. Just peace.
You start texting Chaewon every day after that and you find yourself happy whenever you see a message from her. She’s as sweet as she seems on TV and varied with a few naughty flashes here and there that are unbelievably hot.
In fact, during one night she talks about going to a new restaurant with you.
You quickly agree and make plans in the following days.
Chaewon’s legs are crossed in the passenger seat, one foot bouncing along with mild impatience as you fiddle with the car’s stereo.
“Okay,” you say, smirking. “If we’re going to this place you wanted to try, you have to give me full DJ control.”
Chaewon eyes you suspiciously. “Is this going to be one of those nights where you make me listen to weird anime intros for like an hour?”
You gasp. “Excuse me. These are certified bangers.”
She groans dramatically. “Denji…”
Too late.
The first chords of Dance Gavin Dance blast through the speakers—chaotic riffs, screamed verses, and sugary clean vocals clashing like a beautiful trainwreck. Chaewon flinches, immediately slapping the volume knob down.
“Oh my god, are they fighting??”
“No,” you replied calmly. “They’re harmonizing. In a post-hardcore, jazz-infused emotional breakdown sort of way.”
Her face twists. “This is a genre?”
“It’s a lifestyle.”
She folds her arms but doesn’t ask to change it. A few minutes and a Don Brocosong later, she’s humming along. Even nodding her head.
You grin. “Told you. You’re a secret metalcore girl.”
“I’m not!” she protests—then mumbles under her breath, “…That last one slapped though.”
The restaurant is cozy and modern, with ambient lighting and minimalist plates. You and Chaewon sit tucked away in a booth in the back, already mid-meal.
She giggles as she tries to pick up a particularly slippery dumpling.
“You seriously gonna let me struggle like this?” she whines.
You raise an eyebrow, smug. “You said you didn’t need help.”
“I don’t,” she insists, then immediately drops it again.
You casually reach over with your chopsticks, snag it, and plop it on her plate. “Rescued. You’re welcome.”
She pouts. “I was one second away from getting it.”
“Sure you were.”
She scrunches her nose again.
You look away, eyes to your bowl.
Chaewon leans on the table now, chin in hand. “You like teasing me, huh?”
“It’s mutual,” you say. “You flirt like it’s your job.”
“And you flirt like you’re scared to follow through.”
That stops him for half a second. Your smirk falters—but you mask it with a quick sip of water.
“You think I’m scared?”
“I think…” She’s staring at you now, eyes low-lidded, lips barely parted. “…you’re too good at acting like this is just a game.”
Her gaze lingers, slowly trailing over you—soft but intentional. The kind of look you give when you want someone to do something about the tension. Her foot brushes against yours under the table.
You stiffen.
Everything slows down in your chest.
You don’t speak.
Doesn’t flirt back.
Doesn’t move.
The look in Chaewon’s eyes fades slightly as she sits back. Still composed, but something’s shifted. She reads the silence like a signpost.
You set your chopsticks down, fingers curled tight. Your voice is soft.
“We should get going soon.”
A pause.
Chaewon nods once, eyes back to her food. She gives a small smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes this time.
“Yeah. Sure.”
A few days later Sakura invites you to play Mario Party, but when you arrive you find the dorm is strangely quiet.
You walk in with a tote bag of takeout, raising a brow as you see only one person in the living room: Chaewon.
She’s in a cropped hoodie and soft, clingy shorts—curled up on the couch, scrolling her phone like she doesn’t see him.
You pause in the doorway, wary. “…Where’s everyone?”
Chaewon glances up. “Sakura ran out for skincare with Eunchae. Yunjin and Zuha went grocery shopping. Said they’d be a while.”
You squint. “All of them left at the same time?”
She shrugs, far too innocent. “Coincidences happen.”
You roll your eyes but stay regardless. Chaewon stalks you as you unpack the snacks. Her tempo is predatory but also caring, almost innocent. She watches as you cook diligently desperately trying to focus on anything but her. It’s hell but you do it.
You’re in the kitchen, plating food like it’ll keep your mind busy. Chaewon walks in and leans against the counter. She’s watching you with those eyes again.
You don’t look up. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” she asks coyly.
“You know what.”
“You mean standing here?” she steps closer. “Looking at you?”
You sigh, voice tight. “Chae…”
“Denji.” She steps in closer. There’s barely any space between your two now.
You turn to hand her a plate—just as you trip over one of Sakura’s absurd platform slides left under the counter.
“Sh—”
You stumble back, losing your footing.
Chaewon grabs your arm to steady you, but you both go down, tumbling to the floor in a soft crash—you on your back, her sprawled over you.
Breathless. Pressed close.
Your noses nearly touch.
Your mind freezes.
Chaewon’s hair falls around them like a curtain. Her thighs straddle his hips.
“…You good?” she asks, low and teasing.
You swallow hard.
Her face is so close. Her lips are parted. Her breath dances against yours.
And suddenly, all the careful distance, all the rational thoughts, all the reasons not to—snap like overstretched strings.
“Fuck it,” you breathe.
Then you pull her down and kiss her.
Hard. Desperate.
Chaewon gasps into your mouth, then melts against you like she’s been waiting forever.
Your hands grip her waist. Her fingers tangle in your shirt. The kiss deepens, greedy and hot and aching with every second of held-back want.
When they finally break, foreheads pressed together, breathing ragged—Chaewon smiles against your lips.
“Took you long enough.”
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