[ Date Night W/ Yuta ]

[ Date Night w/ Yuta ]

Warnings: Very Slight 18 + Reference 

Masterlist

It is not cold, but the golden warmth of the day has slowly given way to a slight breeze, not quite enough to make you shiver, but enough for you to subconsciously pass a hand over the bare skin of your arm. Even as he holds the doorway to the restaurant open for you, Yuta notices. He immediately slips the jacket from his shoulders and stepping close from behind, places it over your own, causing you to turn. ‘Yuta, hey,’ you smile softly, feeling the material between your fingers, ‘I don’t want you to be cold either.’

Yuta shakes his head, shrugs and smiles all at once and you know you cannot argue with him. For a second, you take in the sight of him in the fitted shirt, appreciating how it wraps perfectly over his wide shoulders and how it clings to his waist. It isn’t often you see him dressed so tidily and you can’t help but think he really is your Takoyaki Prince.

He wraps his arm haphazardly around your back as you meander along the street. He talks quickly and laughs loudly, maybe it is a result of the wine, maybe it is because has you wrapped in his arm and nowhere to be in the morning. When you pass a twenty-four-hour convenience store, he feels you tug at the cuff of his shirt and the moment he catches your eye, he knows he’s a goner. He likes the fact you pull him into the store in search of ice cream and an extra bottle of wine even after your fancy dinner date. It makes him feel grounded, like he’s really here with you, not half caught up in recording and filming and practice like he sometimes is. 

Inside, he offers to find something to drink like he has any more of an idea than you, whilst you spend longer than you should picking between a few flavours of ice cream. He leaves with a firm kiss on your cheek and a promise to be back in a minute. Yuta isn’t sure when this became a habit - inviting you out to expensive restaurants so you can wear those items in your wardrobe saved for special occasions, late-night visits to the convenience store on your way home to your apartment, but he knows lives for it. 

When he returns a few minutes later with a bottle Jaehyun had recommended beneath his arm, you are in the same position as he had left you. Yuta watches for a moment without speaking. Even he cannot catch the smile that lifts the edges of his mouth at the sight of you, peering into the freezer, the heels, the slinky scarlet number, the jacket that belongs to him. There is someone, another guy, standing at the opposite end of the aisle and Yuta can see clear enough that he too is enjoying the sight and he takes it as his cue to return to your side. As he nears, his hand slips beneath the jacket hanging loosely over your shoulders and settles dangerously low on your back, the tips of his fingers perfectly comfortable over the curve of your waist. 

Yuta does not care about the possibility of being seen as his fingers press gently enough into your skin to draw you nearer, close enough for him to find your mouth with his own. He does not care as he deepens the kiss, the hand on your back pulling you until there is little gap between your chests, until you’re pressed against him in the freezer aisle. 

It’s only when he hears a little squeak of embarrassment escape against his mouth that he pulls away. He takes great joy in the flush that has spread across your features, an intoxicating combination of a couple of glasses of wine and his brazen display of affection. Yuta tucks the pint of ice cream beneath his arm and reaches for your hand, threading his fingers through your own as he guides you toward the checkout. As you pass the stranger at the end of the aisle, Yuta smirks, taking pride in the fact he knows it’ll be him and only him slipping the slinky dress from your shoulders at the end of the evening. 

[ Taeyong Hard Thought ] -

18 + Content

Masterlist

I keep having Taeyong thoughts and it isn’t healthy. So just imagine if you were the inspiration behind ‘Baby don’t stop.’ I mean, what if it was something that occasionally slipped from your mouth when Taeyong was making you feel particularly good. (Stretching you out, fucking you just right, and why would you ever want him to stop, so you tell him a little breathlessly. He’s absolutely a pleaser, so he’ll carry on, maybe even go a little harder than before.) A few weeks later, Taeyong invites you into the studio so he can share some of the tracks he’s been working on with you. There will be a producer there too, but you’ve met them all enough times that they’re happy to have you there. One of the tracks in untitled and when Taeyong hits play, you’re very aware of his eyes on you, gauging your immediate reaction. When you hear Taeyong’s breathy ‘baby, don’t stop,’ you flush and look to the floor as if deep in thought, as if not trying desperately to avoid the producer’s eye because Taeyong had written a song baring some resemblance to you almost begging for him to fuck you. Taeyong certainly isn’t shameless so maybe he’s going to be a little flustered now he has you sat in front him listening to it, but then he sees you looking at him with bedroom eyes and it’s over, he’s ready to pull you away just so he can hear you say those words all over again.

[ Bang Chan Hard Thought ] -

18 + Content

AFAB Reader

Masterlist

Okay, so I was just thinking about the recent SKZ Talker episode where Chan asks Jisung if he can move the playstation into his bedroom and if Chan had listened to Jisung’s teasing no this is exactly how it would have played out. So, Chan obviously plays video games when he can find time and you, being as good a girlfriend as you are, are more than happy to sit beside him as he plays. Sometimes, you scroll through your phone, or finish up whatever work you still have to get through and it’s pretty comfy. Generally, you’ll order take-out and some of the other members will join you on the sofas and the whole thing will be pretty cosy. Until Chan is looking particularly fine, and there’s a furrow in his brow as he watches the television and it’s been at least three hours since he so much as glanced in your direction. Naturally you’re going to nudge him after a while, just a little brush of his arm to try and get his attention. He’ll look at you for a second and then suddenly realise just how much time has passed and he’ll instantly be like, ‘Oh, babygirl, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise how late it was.’ Before you can even say anything to reassure him that’s it’s okay he’s pulling you into his lap, drawing your thighs against his own so you’re straddling him. It’s definitely going to start out innocent enough - him feeling guilty about inviting you over and then getting distracted, you just after a cuddle on the sofa or something. So you wrap your arms around his neck and snuggle into him and it’s cosy, except Chan can’t stop analysing the situation - his girlfriend content with hanging out, being all cute tucked into his side, and he’s suddenly feeling a little needy. He’s definitely going to be shy about letting you know, starting out with placing his hands on your thighs and squeezing because he’s suddenly frustrated and he just wants to feel the skin beneath your trousers. He’s going to gently move you from the crook of his neck and when you start kissing, he’s going to realise that he’s half-hard already. 

His movements are going to be slow - he’s caught somewhere between absolute desire and the need to be a respectful boyfriend. As much as he wants to ruin you, he’ll hold himself at bay until you give him some signal. I think he’d be hyper-aware of your movements, for example if you slip your fingers below the hem of t-shirt and run your nails along his abdomen, just above the waistband of his trousers, he’s going to take that as a sign. He’ll instantly pick you up, just to lay you on your back and the little noise of surprise you make is enough to send his blood rushing southwards. So he’ll settle himself between your thighs, one hand will pull your t-shirt up your chest, the other will be gripping your thigh and any regard for the fact you’re on the shared dorm sofa will be entirely forgotten. He’s going to press himself close, finding friction between your legs and he’s going to be so desperately hard that he’s swallowing his own quiet whimpers. He won’t break away as he begins unbuckling your belt and as soon as your trousers are loose, he’s going to push his hand beneath, trailing his fingers right where you want him. 

Now, Jisung is going to be entirely oblivious as he enters the living room. He knew that you had been with Chan as he played video games, but this was unexpected. First, he’ll hear a little gasp and then, all at once, he’ll see you and Chan and Chan’s hand halfway hidden beneath your trousers. Jisung will run a mile, straight to his bedroom and he’ll hear Chan’s bedroom door click a minute later and thank his lucky stars that he hadn’t been seen because he might have died. He’ll inform Chan the next morning, without being able to look him in the eye, that he can move the playstation into his room after all. 

Pairing: Johnny x AFAB Reader

Warnings: 18 + Content & Swearing, Nickname ‘Kid’ 

Masterlist

Johnny slowly tips his head in Mark’s direction as soon as the conversation about dating comes up as if it is a habit. You suppose that he really believes you’ll end up together eventually. He doesn’t tell you that it is Mark, always Mark and only Mark he points to because he doesn’t trust the other members of his group to not fall in love with you. Mark knows too much about him, about how he feels, to look at you in any way that isn’t friendship. But still, Johnny is unable to bring himself around to the idea of suggesting himself, as much as he wants to, as much as it pains him not to. So Mark is a safe alternative and he can continue playing the game, gently asking about your dating situation, before teasingly pointing out Mark as if it were the reason he asked in the first place. 

The same thought passes through your mind on every occasion. Mark is just, well, Mark. He’s attractive, you can say that with some certainty. And sweet, and soft, with a mean streak you’re sure arises at just the right times. He really is everything anyone should ever want for in a relationship and sure, he’s one of your closest friends. But, he isn’t Johnny. 

When you lift your eyebrows and shake your head, before diverting your attention to something else, the cycle begins again. Johnny does it all as if there isn’t a photograph of you tucked into his wallet, as if everyone does not know he is fighting off his feelings for you, except you. He watches as you turn away, he runs a hand through his hair and wonders how much longer he can continue like this, how much longer will you wait for him. 

When it is time for Johnny to leave, he stands, ruffling a hand through your hair and the movement is a stark reminder of the invisible line that is drawn between you. He says, ‘Hey Kid, I’ll see you later.’

He leaves with a heaviness in his heart that has become uncomfortably familiar. He tries to keep himself in check, telling himself you’re a friend he cannot afford to lose. Just a friend who doesn’t know what she wants. As he walks through the hallway, he hears you laughing at something and he steels himself. Mark, it should be Mark. 

It is three days later that he next sees you and it is three days too long. Between his busy schedule and your own, it is only when he finds a spare afternoon that he is able to invite you to tag along for coffee. You agree to meet outside the SM building, just as you have a million times before. As Johnny’s group slowly filter out from practice, he watches you through the glass, chatting to Haechan as if nothing in the world might disturb you. For a moment he wonders if he ought to nudge Haechan toward you, he’s a good one too and he would treat you just how you deserve. Something about the thought doesn’t sit right though and he quickly lets it go. He is faintly aware of Mark calling his name and he turns to meet him. 

‘Johnny, come on,’ Mark sighs with a shake of his head and a smile, ‘Just ask her out man.’ 

Johnny sighs too. Before he can protest, Mark is holding the door for him and he follows him into the sunshine, hearing your laugh. When you walk along the street, the curling of Johnny’s arm around your waist is too natural to be comfortable and if he hadn’t done it a hundred times before, it would stir butterflies in your stomach. 

At the coffeehouse, you insist on collecting the order from the countertop. Johnny’s line of sight follows you across the space, taking in the picture of you in the pretty periwinkle dress you save for when the weather is warm. He watches as the barista catches you in conversation and whilst you wait for the coffees, it is all laughter and friendly chatter. Johnny is familiar with the feeling that inches its way along his spine, pinning his shoulders. He wants to be angry with himself, how can he allow himself to feel such jealousy when he daren’t take the step he so wants to. 

When you return to the table, taking three trips to carry the coffees, Johnny gestures to the barista left behind. ‘He seemed nice,’ he mutters, the cheeriness to his tone entirely fabricated. 

‘Who?’ Is your reply, as if you hadn’t so much as noticed the guy, let alone his flirting.

Johnny’s laugh is genuine as he listens to you. ‘That guy. The one who just tried to get your number for fifteen minutes.’ 

‘Oh, right,’ You half-heartedly shrug, ‘Sure, he was.’ 

When Johnny glances at you, he realises that you are already looking at him. There is an almost unreadable expression across your face, but Johnny can almost read your mind, cursing him out for not making the move you’ve been silently begging for all this time. He shakes his head to dislodge the thought, ‘Not to worry Kid, there’s always someone else.’

Part of him wonders if he’ll ever push you far enough to confront him directly, but you brush off his comment with a soft smile and take a mouthful of your coffee. Just as the question of your dating situation, the moment falls away and Johnny is left with the same feeling of emptiness as before. As much as you laugh and lean together over the table, he is weighted by the simmering feeling that you aren’t really his. 

After leaving the coffeehouse, he is insistent on walking you to your apartment building. He has an answer for every one of your protests - he doesn’t care that it is the middle of the day, that there are a hundred other people moving along the street. He isn’t ready to say goodbye yet. He doesn’t tell you that he might never forgive himself if he simply waves and watches you step into the crowd, he thinks someone might fall in love and whisk you away. So he carries your cardigan over his shoulder and his hand hovers over your waist whenever people brush by until you are nearly home. 

He follows you into your apartment, grateful for the relief that the air-con provides. You immediately make for the refrigerator to pour two glasses of water and Johnny leans against the countertop. He’s told you a million times how much he likes your apartment and you can only suppose it’s because it is blissfully quiet in comparison to his shared bedroom with Haechan. 

‘It’s so hot,’ Johnny sighs, peeling the back of his shirt from his skin. He goes to say something more but catches sight of the hem of your dress flitting dangerously high against the back of your legs as you reach upwards for a glass. The picture casts any thought from his mind. 

He thinks back to the coffeehouse. Maybe it is because the city is sweltering, maybe the sight of an inch of extra skin, but he presses the matter. ‘That guy was into you, why don’t you give someone a chance?’

He hears you scoff as you hold a glass out to him, ‘I’m not dating Mark, Johnny.’ 

Johnny smiles at you, but his tone is serious, desperate. ‘I wasn’t going to suggest Mark. But, you know, you deserve to find someone.’ 

‘Johnny.’

The mention of his name is meant to serve as a warning, he knows and he stays quiet. As he watches you, he realises that you look tired, not physically, but tired of the sticky, complicated situation you share. He thinks about taking his leave, but you seem to read his mind and speak as to stop him. 

‘Johnny, you know why.’

It is quiet again, save for the sounds filtering through the open kitchen window. Johnny meets your eyes and sees that your gaze is firm, unmoving, daring even. The expression is in contrast to your periwinkle dress, the laughter and the friendly affection he associates with you. He hears you acknowledge a million different moments all at once - the longing glances, the touches too familiar for friendship, the unspoken commitment to one another.

‘Kid,’ Johnny manages after a while, ‘You don’t know what you’re asking.’

Johnny is faintly aware of a shift in the atmosphere. He watches your easy-going manner twist into something more serious. The laughter that meets his ears is light and airy. 

‘No, Johnny,’ You protest, turning away from him in the small space. ‘I do.’

He watches as you step away, putting a few extra paces between you, a hand running through your hair. He can see your pinned shoulders and hear the waver of your voice. After a moment, you turn and make for him and he wonders how long this has been brewing.

‘You always do this Johnny, call me Kid and push me away,’ the words are punctuated by the press of your finger into his chest. 

Johnny looks to your face, but you seem unwilling to meet his eye. You are standing dangerously close. Your hand has fallen to your side in defeat and he can almost feel the heat burning across your cheeks, hot enough to cut through the summer air. He sighs heavily and for a second he panics the movement might cause you to flee, but you seem frozen. Slowly, cautiously, Johnny raises a hand to your cheek and gently guides you to look at him. He finally sees the tears that have gathered at the edges of your eyes and the sight causes his heart to lurch.

‘Kid,’ He murmurs, thumb softly moving over your skin. Your eyes are wide and waiting and Johnny sighs, ‘Fuck. I can’t break your heart.’ 

For a second you wonder if Johnny is going to do just that, whether you ought to have stuck with the silly unspoken game of before. But the sudden pull of his hand is slow, but firm, as if certain you might fly away if he lets go. His mouth is desperate against yours and strong and his other hand ghosts over your waist, bunching the material of your dress in his fingers. Before he can begin to question himself, you stumble forward until your chests are almost touching. It is a messy affair of clashing tongues and desperate fingers, at least until you break apart to catch your breath and then the reality of the situation seems to seep in. Johnny is standing closer than he has ever before, almost pressing you against the kitchen cabinet and his chest is lifting with each inhale of breath. 

You force yourself to speak first, but only manage a quiet whisper of his name. Johnny winces, ‘Y/N, this isn’t how I wanted this to go.’ 

Johnny sighs when he feels your mouth barely scratch over his neck and he slowly guides you against the countertop. The press of his hips against your own is slow, giving you time to slip away if you want to. The soft noise of appreciation that escapes from your chest at the first experimental roll of his hips is enough for him to continue. His hand moves from your waist, trailing to the top of your thigh to feel the bare skin beneath your sundress and as he shifts, you’re able to feel the growing hardness beneath his jeans. 

He is able to feel the lift of your mouth into a smile and he draws back to glance at your face. The smile across your features sends Johnny’s blood rushing southwards quicker than any amount of kissing and he finally allows himself to relax a little. Something about the seriousness of the earlier situation, of your firm tone and the sight of you moving away from him had set him on edge. 

This time it is him who trails his mouth against the sensitive skin of your neck, relishing the sudden exhales of breath each nip of his teeth draws from your throat. He is conscious of your wandering fingers, slipping beneath the hem of his t-shirt, slowly moving against his abdomen, daring to shift beneath his belt buckle. As much as he wants you to continue, the feeling sobers him and he pulls himself away, the loss of contact elicits a whimper from you that almost fractures his resolve. 

‘Y/N,’ Johnny smiles softly, his thumb tracing shapes on your hip, ‘I just don’t want to mess this up with you.’

His words cause your heart to flutter. If only you might tell him just how head over heels in love with him you are. ‘Johnny, I know. Why do you think I never said anything. I’d rather have you as a friend than not at all.’ 

Johnny’s smile grows a little wider. ‘Right. I just worry about you, about being with an idol and -.’ 

The gentle press of your hand against his chest breaks his train of thought. ‘Johnny, stop thinking.’

It is with something between adoration and absolute desire that he looks at you as you approach. He desperately tells himself to ingrain the image of you into his mind, standing in your kitchen, awash in the sunshine pouring through the window. Johnny’s hands reach for your waist and threaten to move beneath the hem of your dress and he is shameless as he presses himself against you. Your hands find purchase beneath his t-shirt, fingernails raking over his bare skin and it feels different touching Johnny like this, but better than you might have imagined. 

Johnny is soft and gentle, letting you guide him to your bedroom by his hand. At the foot of your bed, you look at him in an unspoken plea and he silently takes control, pushing you toward the duvet before settling himself between your thighs. He moves slowly, but with great purpose - grazing his teeth beneath your ear, spreading his hand on your thigh and forcefully pressing his hips against your own. The press of your nails into his shoulder blade and the breathy whines leaving your mouth drive him on, pushing him to pull the t-shirt from his back. His fingers slip beneath the straps of your summer dress and as he fiddles with them he pauses, ‘We can stop at any point, Y/N.’

He hears your huff and feels the tug of your fingers against the ends of his hair. When he finally removes your dress, he sighs against your neck and you relish in the feeling of bare skin against bare skin. Johnny raises himself onto his hands to have himself a shameless glance of your figure, ‘Kid,’ he mutters, shaking his head with a smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. 

He kisses along your stomach, on the inside of your thighs, dangerously close to your underwear. The movement riles you up exactly as he desires and he feels you fidget beneath him, whining his name. He hooks a finger beneath the waistband, but does not immediately move, giving you time to push him away, but you only stutter his name once more. Johnny is slow as he slips your underwear along your thighs, taking great enjoyment in the motion before he throws it to the side. He, at last, places his mouth where you most want him, smirking as he feels your hands move through his hair as his tongue flattens and rolls between your thighs, his breath fanning against your heat. His hand splays against your stomach to keep you in place and for a while, he is captivated by the sound of his name falling from your mouth and the tremble of your thighs. 

Slowly, steadily, he draws you to the edge, responding to each pull of his hair and jerk of your hips, until your thighs shake against his shoulders. He only stops when your fingers slip to his jaw and gently pull him away and he finally takes in your appearance. Johnny knew you were beautiful, but something about the sight of you, wide-eyed and needy for him strikes something a little deeper. He is aware of your fingers scooting along his abdomen, fiddling with the buckle of his belt. 

Johnny is big in every sense of the word - big as he nestles between your thighs, but even bigger when he lines himself up at your entrance. ‘Johnny,’ you mutter between kisses. 

At the mention of his name, he looks to your face and pauses, faintly aware of how achingly hard he is against your thigh. You look at him with hooded eyes, ‘It’s been a while.’

At first, Johnny just nods, before he lets out a breathy chuckle and his head falls forward to your shoulder, ‘I guess that’s my fault.’ 

Your laughter is a firm reminder of just how much he wants this, how much he wants you, the sex and the laughter. When he starts to slip inside, slowly because he wants to take the utmost care of you, he can feel your nails pressing crescent shapes into his shoulder. Part of him thinks he ought to be worried about someone seeing them, part of him wants everyone to know that you’re his, maybe he’ll walk around the dorm shirtless just to show Haechan, Mark, and everyone, that you’re only his. 

Johnny winces as he bottoms out, the feeling of you squeezing him making him want to curse himself for waiting so long to give in to his feelings. He furrows his brow and makes certain that you’re comfortable before he moves and you nod desperately, whilst pulling at his shoulders, searching for something to ground yourself with. Johnny smirks against your skin, moving with a little more force, reaching so deep that it feels as though he’s rearranging your insides. The feeling is so overwhelming that Johnny’s name falls from your mouth over and over again whilst you helplessly hold onto him. 

It is quiet as you finish, Johnny’s thumb tracing over your cheek, his breath fanning against your neck and he is slow to move away. He shifts to lie on his back and pulls you close, resting your chin on his chest as his fingers trail along the skin of your back. ‘Hey, Y/N,’ he murmurs, drawing your attention to his face, ‘Can I take you on a proper date tomorrow? Wine and dine, even though we’ve done things out of order.’

Johnny’s heart tightens at the sincerity behind your smile. There is a pause before you sigh, ‘I was actually thinking of asking Mark out tomorrow.’

Johnny immediately groans and fidgets beneath you, pressing his fingers into his eyes. ‘You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?’

Whilst you shake your head just to agonise him a little more, the sound of your laughter is enough - he can take a lifetime of teasing if it means he can grow old hearing it. 

Just a post to say that my inbox is open for any requests! I write for NCT, Monsta X, Stray Kids and BTS, TxT and TO1! Imagines/headcanons/reactions, anything else!! :))

[ Meeting Chan in a Coffeeshop Headcanons ] -

Pairing: Chan x reader

Warnings: None

Masterlist

A/N: This is a dumb series of headcanons about a cute boy, yours faithfully, me

- It was just your average Thursday morning and by this point in the week, you had grown tired of staring at the same four walls of your apartment whilst trying to get through your work

- To mix it up a little, (as though you didn’t do this every Thursday morning), you decided to take your work, laptop and all, down to your local coffee-shop

- Inside, you saw the usual faces made-up mostly of those in a similar position to yourself - tired students and frustrated relocated employees

- After collecting your drink, you sat at a table for two, barely acknowledging the occupied tables to your left and right

- At least until you’d downed half your coffee and the immediate buzz it provided had begun to wane, taking your inspiration with it, and leaving you to glance over at those nearest to distract yourself

- To your left, there was a mother and daughter, sipping coffee and seemingly catching-up

- To your right, no-one

- It was another twenty minutes before you lifted your eyes from your laptop screen and realised that the seat to your right had now been taken and a fleeting glance told you that it was a young guy

- That was enough information to bring a flush to your cheeks, which you felt ridiculous about - you’d barely looked at the guy and the simple fact that there was a guy sat beside you was sufficient to make you a little self-conscious

- But, that was stupid and you had work to be doing, so you lowered your gaze and it wasn’t as if you could really see him anyway given that he was mostly hidden beneath a low-slung baseball cap and dark clothes

- You were faintly aware of him occasionally clicking away on laptop, of the music quietly seeping outwards from his headphones

- At one point, you momentarily left to go to the bathroom and when you returned, the person had seemingly disappeared, though there was a briefcase discarded on the chair and you supposed that someone else must have reserved the seat

- A few minutes passed and still no one arrived, which was odd, but none of your business

- Honestly you thought little more of it, until someone gently nudged your shoulder and asked if the seat was taken. It had been at least half an hour and the guy hadn’t returned so you said no, but offered to move the briefcase to your own table, just in case

- You didn’t want to look through someone’s bag so you supposed that if they didn’t appear before you were finished you would hand it to the coffeeshop staff

- It was nearing closing time by the time you were getting ready to leave, the coffeeshop had emptied and you were in the process of packing your things into your rucksack when someone came rushing into the coffeeshop in a fluster

- The guy from earlier rushed to the empty table alongside your own and leant over the chair to look for something, he’d removed his baseball cap and you noticed his pale blue hair

- He sent a hand carding through his hair in a show of his stress and you quietly called out to his back, asking whether he’d left his briefcase

- He immediately turned to face you and you had a sort of, ‘oh’ moment because it wasn’t just anyone stood in front of you, it was Bang Chan

- ‘Have you got it?’ He would reply, still on edge, whilst you just looked at him, all wide eyed

- You’d struggle to get any sort of sentence out and would simply pull the briefcase out from where you’d put it for safekeeping and offer it to him

- Chan instantly heaved his chest with relief, he hung his head, before giving you the biggest, most relieved smile possible. He clutched the briefcase to his chest and thanked you a hundred times over.

- Throughout this, you blushed, hard

- When he eventually stopped thanking you, you mustered the courage to comment something about taking care of his things otherwise JYP would tell him off personally

- This time it was Chan who had a sort of ‘oh’ moment as he realised that he’d been recognised

- You saw his expression falter for a second and you immediately mentioned how relieved you were that you had found it, but that you must be getting home

- Chan would nod and thank you again and pause for your name and then thank you directly

- He’d watch as you started to leave (your heart was thrumming because you’d just spoken to Bang Chan and you wanted to talk to him forever and maybe even ask for a photograph or his autograph, but the poor guy seemed so stressed and you just wanted to give him some space)

- He suddenly caught your arm and called your name (honestly you almost died because Chan saying your name was divine) and he sort of stammered out how he owed you and could he buy you another drink

- So you’re flustered and understandably so and Chan is blushing like there’s no tomorrow because now he’s taken a proper look at you, you’re attractive and what has he just gotten himself into

- Just picture you and Chan, staring at each other in a coffeeshop, both as awkward as each other

- Before you can really catch yourself you’re agreeing and next thing you know Chan has taken your order and is waiting in line and he’s even left his sacred briefcase by your side because apparently you’re better at looking after it than he is

- When he comes back he asks about your day, about what you’ve been up to (he actually noticed how busy you looked when he had been sat beside you earlier in the day) and the conversation flows as if you’ve known each other for a lifetime

- Chan feels more comfortable chatting with you than he does a hundred people he’s known for years and after a while, he catches himself and it dawns on him and he’s like huh

- You kind of skirt around the subject of him being an idol, mentioning that he must be busy and everything but that’s really it and whilst he doesn’t say it, Chan is pretty pleased, he almost feels ordinary and it’s nice

- It’s almost dark outside when a member of staff approaches and politely informs you that it’s closing time and you both instantly jump up and of course you don’t miss an opportunity to tease him a little about leaving his briefcase and he’s giving you a smile that goes all the way to his eyes

- When he offered to buy you a coffee he thought it would stay as just that, but he’s suddenly stood in the street and you’re murmuring your thanks and he realises that he doesn’t really want to say goodbye even though he’s so, so busy and has a million other things racing through his mind, the thought of letting you go, to be lost in the city’s crowd, is one that makes him feel a little nauseous

- You’re giving him a once over, making sure he has that damn briefcase slung over his shoulder, and he’s asking for your number out of nowhere and if you thought you’d blushed hard earlier, this is a whole level above

- You nod and you’re not quite sure if you remember how to breathe, but you’re typing your phone number into Chan’s phone and he’s looking at you with a soft expression of joy

- When he’s tucked his phone into his pocket, he asks whether you’re able to get home safe and you make sure to reassure him and saying goodbye is seemingly awkward and difficult, but between the both of you, you manage a clumsy sort of one and you wish him luck with whatever he’s off to do

- Chan is courteous and bows his head slightly and forces himself to peel himself away because he’s certain you have other things to be doing and as he steps away, his destination the studio, his fingers are tapping against the screen of his phone as he silently muses how soon he can message you

- There are several missed calls from Jisung and Changbin, but Chan can’t bring himself to be worried