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livingemkayde · 9 months

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ch v. just you

joel miller x f!reader x unrequited!tommy miller (no outbreak AU)

chapter five of chaser

warnings: 18+ minors please dni. smut, half porn half plot, unprotected p in v, oral, f!receiving, a little fingering, kinda dom!joel but hes sweet. rough sex and mentions of bruising. some verbal disagreements and fighting. love triangle forming formed. lots of angst, talk of miscommunications. age gap, reader is 23 and joel is 35. Tommy is 30. (ages of all characters and plot do not follow canon strictly for the story’s sake).

summary: you confront joel about, well, everything. you talk it out in more ways than one.

a/n: i been waitin for this one. TURN IT UP. i hope you guys like this slow burn reward, im happy with how this chapter came out. enjoy this before all the drama lol. love you all smsmsmsm.

Joel cuts you off, dips his head lower, his tongue dips into your entrance and when you whine and moan he trails higher, tasting you and gently sucking until he reaches your clit. You bite your lip in favor of screaming, and you can barely hear Joel whisper, like he’s in awe— “I knew it,” as he takes another taste of the slick dripping out of your entrance. “I fuckin’ knew it.” “What?” “Knew you’d taste like heaven,” he says with a muffled groan, sinking his tongue back into your aching hole, his nose rubbing against your clit in a way that makes you shut your eyes so tight you see stars.

There are times you wish texting was never invented.

You like calling people — hearing their voice. The intonations of their words, knowing exactly what they’re thinking.

But there are other times, you thank the lord for creating the form of communication — because you have no idea what to say to Joel.

You stare down at your phone. The text’s words float through your mind. Trying to desperately figure out what to say.

Your thumbs fiddle with each other, you bite your lip as you try and concentrate on a suitable text. Joel’s contact name just stares back at you, unmoving.

You: going to the store on my own, i don’t need your—

You delete that text quickly as you start making a pot of coffee.

You: i don’t think we should go together—

You delete that one too.

You run a hand over your forehead, swiping through your phone to get to Tommy’s text.

You slump against your kitchen counter when you realize you don’t know what to say to either Millers. You look out the window, it’s a nice day out, the sun shining through the early morning dew. The spot in front of your house stares back at you. The spot where Tommy was parked in last night. Where he had cut you off after his question, and begged you to consider it.

“Just think ‘bout it before you say no.”

And when you hadn’t said anything—

“Please?”

So you nodded, and you’re not sure why, but tears threatened to spill from your eyes, leaving the truck in disarray and falling asleep in much the same manner.

When you woke up this morning, you hoped it had been a dream — his big brown eyes had never looked that desperate, and you know you fucked up by telling him you’ll think about it — when all you can think about is his brother.

You stare back at Tommy’s messages and type in your own.

You: can we talk in person?

You look at the words for a long time, before hitting send. You needed to clear the air as quickly as possible.

You open Joel’s texts. The last couple ones just revolve around Sarah, pick up times, and what the plans were for dinner.

But the very last one, from last night — looks particularly menacing. Like it might grow wings and fangs and jump out of your phone.

Joel M: Get home okay?

You sigh, ignoring his text and typing out your own.

You: i think i’m gonna go shopping on my own soon. be by to drop off the stuff later

Whatever — you think to yourself before hitting send.

You don’t even know what month it is.

You hadn’t realized the calendars flicked to July, until you walked through the Party City and all the decorations you can find are red, white, and blue. The aisles are crowded, everyone getting last minute party favors and decorations in prep for Monday’s holiday.

You find the birthday section, rifling through to get streamers, string lights, balloons, and banners. You smile to yourself when you find a small toy horse from that show Sarah likes.

You put the toy into the basket.

The market is next, you haul ass to get as many two liters of soda you can carry, chips, and different snacks for the party. Tommy had managed to get a decent turn out from his RSVP (which was just a phone call asking if they could come) and you want to make sure there’s enough food for everyone.

Your name being shouted from down the aisle snaps you out of your thoughts. It’s Janet Baker, one of the moms from Sarah’s soccer camp, she strides towards you pushing a cart full of hot dogs and buns. You distinctly remember seeing her at one of Sarah’s games. The one where Joel and Tommy both showed up, you, slotted to sit between them.

“Hey, you!” she says, pulling you into an unexpected hug.

“Oh! Hi, Mrs. Baker,” you reply shyly with a chuckle, her cart is abandoned when she gets a peek into yours.

“Now, I told you to call me Janet, don’t be makin’ me feel old with all this ‘Mrs’ crap,” she chides, you smile, not really knowing what to say.

“Sorry, Janet,” you say with a chuckle.

“What are you shoppin’ for missy? Fourth of July party?”

“Oh — uh —” you look down to your cart, “actually, Tommy’s birthday is tomorrow.”

“...Tommy…?” she says, while looking up towards the sky.

“Oh my god, sorry — Tommy Miller, Sarah’s uncle?” you say, trying to get it to ring a bell. She thinks for a long time, you’re about to say it’s not important but she cuts you off—

“That’s right! We met at that game last weekend,” she says, nodding her head, remembering the encounter.

You remember that game. It was before all of these new — situations — with Joel.

Sarah had come up to the three of you before the game started, a friend in tow. You were introduced to one of Sarah’s close accomplices, Katie.

“Are you Mrs. Miller?” Katie had said, looking between you and Joel hesitantly. Your cheeks felt hot.

Joel stifled an awkward laugh beside you. Tommy was quiet.

“Oh, no, kiddo — ’M just Sarah’s nanny.”

Tommy was silent the rest of the game. You don’t remember much after that.

But you remember Janet, giving you a couple friendly smiles, when you introduced her to Tommy after the game had ended. The same smile she gives back to you right now.

“Yeah, just getting some decorations and food,” you say, pointing down towards your cart.

“Well, aren’t you a sweet thing for throwin’ him a party.”

“I appreciate that, Janet. Why don’t you and your daughter come tomorrow, she can play with Sarah?”

“Oh, how nice of you to invite us. I sure hope Tommy’s okay with it,” she laughs.

“He will be,” you say back, trying to match her enthused demeanor. Her bright eyes and almost obnoxious laugh make you chuckle to yourself a bit.

She’s suddenly close to you, dipping into your personal space to whisper slyly so that no one else can hear her ask—

“Y’all aren’t datin’, right?”

Your eyes widen. This woman’s timing is fucking impeccable, you’ll give her that.

“No! Oh no, no, I’m just — I’m Sarah’s—”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Sarah’s babysitter. But between you and me, sweetie —” she leans even lower, her hand coming to the side of her mouth like she’s telling you a secret. “ — even though you’re Sarah’s babysitter, all us moms think you look mighty nice next to Joel.”

You don’t even know what to say, Janet’s eyebrow sticking up like she’s hinting at something. Jesus, it’s like she’s had a private viewing of your life this past week and she’s taking the footage and taunting you with it.

“M-me? With…?”

“Joel. Yes, doll—” she says, like now it’s her turn to get you to remember one of the Miller brothers, “—we see the way he looks at you.”

“No — I think you might be mistaken, Janet—”

“Don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll see it soon too.”

Joel’s door stares back at you.

You have all the bags in your hands, the plastic of the handle turns your fingertips white from the pressure of the two liters pulling it down, but you can’t bring yourself to knock.

Not until you hear some movement from inside — not wanting him to catch you waiting outside his door like a creep. You kick the door a little with your shoe in place of freeing a hand to knock.

Joel opens the door, his eyes widening at your state.

“Jesus, what are you—” he cuts himself off with his movements, bending down to take the bags from your hands, though you protest.

“I got it, Joel, just—”

He takes the bags from you anyways.

“Should’ve called me,” he mumbles while turning towards the kitchen counter, leaving you in the doorway sans the six bags you struggled to pick up all on your own.

“Sorry. I —”

You don’t really know what you’re apologizing for.

“Thanks,” you say when he puts the bags on the table and begins to unpack them. You move to help him, opening up the fridge for some of the food.

“What’s this?” he says, pulling out the toy horse for Sarah.

“Oh. It's for Sarah. ‘S the horse from that show she likes.”

He stares at you for a long time, before looking down towards the toy in his hand.

“You got this for her?”

“Yeah,” you say, confused as to why he seems surprised you got her a toy.

“She’ll like that. Thanks,” he says, setting the toy on the dinner table and rifling through more stuff until it’s just decorations left in the bags.

“She’s at her sleepover?” you ask, looking around the living room at any signs of life.

“Mhm,” Joel replies from the kitchen.

You wait in silence for a while, unsure of how to proceed. Normally you would probably just ask him if he wants to set up some decorations but this is far from normal.

“You wanted to go without me?” he asks, when you stop walking around and stand in front of him.

“I just didn’t want it to get too late, since Sarah was here…sorry” you say. You try to keep the hurt out of your voice.

“‘S fine, I…wanted to—” he shakes his head, organizing his thoughts before changing the subject. It sort of surprises you — but it seems like this has been on his mind all day. “You didn’t answer my text. Had to call Tommy last night.”

“Oh.”

Shit.

He sounds so fucking worried it almost makes you sick.

“‘M sorry. It was a—long night.”

“You got back okay? No issues?”

Yeah. No fucking issues except your brother asked me out.

You think you should say something. Not like Joel has the right to know, but it’s the right thing to do in your eyes regardless.

“Did Tommy tell you…?”

“Did Tommy tell me what?”

Fuck.

“He—uh—um,” his eyebrow lifts at your words, you can barely get the sentence out, your pulse thrumming with each second you stall with stuttering.

“He asked me out. Last night.”

Joel looks at you. It might be the first time you’ve ever seen that look in his eye. Like he’s the embodiment of disappointment. Like he doesn’t know what to do with his face, let alone his hands, his body.

The warm sunlight peeking in through the window starts making you sweat the longer he stands looking at you. When he finally speaks you can barely hear him — the drawl you love so much, quiet and blanketed under an emotion you can’t place.

“Tommy?”

“Yeah.”

He nods like he’s trying to collect his thoughts. Though, it only makes you more scared from the uncertainty of his words and actions. But surprisingly he doesn’t act out at all, he just gives you an emotionless face and words that seem harmless, but cut through your skin.

“Oh. Happy f’you two.”

“No—I—”

“Nah—’s…’s good.”

“Stop, Joel—”

He stops. But you’re not entirely sure he’s listening very clearly.

“I didn’t say yes. He told me to…think about it.”

“And?”

“And I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Jesus, Joel,” you say, exasperated. Your hand comes up to your forehead. “About last night? About…?”

Everything. You want to say. But fall short.

“What about last night?”

God, was this all in your head? It certainly didn’t feel like that at the bar. Nor on the front porch when he almost kissed you, or on the phone that same fatal night.

“Joel,” you plead with him, your voice breaking a bit. He breaks your eye contact when you say his name, almost like it hurts him to hear you say it. This game you two are playing right now is fucking ridiculous, an old tired version of the one from last night, in front of the bar.

“There’s nothing to talk—”

“Don’t do that. You can’t just fucking—” you almost laugh.

Who the hell is this guy in front of you? You continue, even through your ragged breaths and tears that now stain your cheeks.

“You can’t. Don’t—”

“He’s my brother.”

“So? I knew you before any of this—”

“He’s my brother.”

His loud voice cuts off any thoughts you had forming. You wait for a while, trying to understand what he means by that — maybe this is some petty competition they have going and Joel feels like he’s losing. You don’t know what to think of their dynamic anymore.

“I can’t just ignore it,” you say. You hate how your voice sounds so small. “I didn’t want it like this,” you say, more tears falling, you try to wipe them away quickly, embarrassed to cry in front of him.

“You think I do?” his rhetorical question lingers in the air when you don’t respond. “That fuckin’ day you met Tommy, he—” Joel can’t even look at you anymore.

“He asked me if I — liked you — or whatever, ‘n I said no. You and I were done. We had just decided it was over.”

“So you’re just gonna throw this away because he called dibs?”

“I ain’t throwin’ anythin’ away—” he shakes his head. “I don’t wanna throw this away.”

“Right. Like last night?”

“So this is about Caroline? I told you that I don’t like her — it was a fuckin’ set up.”

“This is not about Caroline,” you could almost laugh.

He gives you a knowing look. You both know this is definitely not about Caroline.

“‘M sorry. About last night, ‘bout everythin’, but you left,” Joel says, “You wanted to leave. I—I wasn’t gonna stop you.”

“I thought you were gonna come with me.”

That shuts him up. He looks at you with a slack jaw, like he was going to say something already braced on his tongue but at your response, he became speechless. Like your sentence smacked the words out of his own mouth.

“I wanted you to come with me,” you say, softer this time. “And then you—fucking—left me and got Tommy.”

“Tommy was—”

“I didn’t want Tommy. I don’t want Tommy.” you say, your voice breaking more with each confession. “But you wanted to hand me off to him—”

“C’mon. ‘F course that’s not what I wanted. You know that.”

“Then what? Because this isn’t a game to me, Joel.”

“‘S not a game,” he forces out, like he’s tired of playing too. “It was never a game.”

You stay silent, taken back by his words. You can tell his head is spinning, not really sure of what to say or rather, how to articulate his feelings.

“This is — you’re fucking…Jesus, I don’t know,” he starts, but begins to pace around the room, unable to finish.

You stay silent, watching him walk around slowly until he’s rooted right in front of you, closer than before.

“‘S a mess. Tommy is — you’re gonna break his heart because this is —”

You raise your eyebrows, pleading with him to continue, to finally say what he’s been thinking about since you two met at the bar.

“This is real. You’re real.”

Your heartbeat bangs in your ears, he’s closer than before. You don’t remember when he got so close. Close enough that when he talks after an unbearable silence, you can feel his breath on your nose.

“But you don’t know. You don’t see — any of it.”

“I see you, I —” you can’t get much out because your breath hitches. Big brown eyes stare back into yours. “Help me — show me,” you hiccup out while his hot breath catches your eyelashes.

His hand reaches down, like last night, pulling you closer, this time, you let him. His fingers sprawl out across your cheeks, feeling your neck, his big brown eyes pulling you in. He's a bit more breathless than you if that’s even possible. You keep blinking like you’re scared it might be a dream.

You look up at him. For the first time in a while your gaze isn’t cut short by wandering eyes or loud interrupting voices.

He dips down, his lips just barely touching yours, letting you make the final move towards him, kissing him, tasting him. It might be silly, but you remember his taste from all the weeks before. It feels like yesterday when he moans a bit in your mouth, and your hands fly to his chest to steady your shaky knees.

He breaks away first, you’re both panting into each other, like you’ve just surfaced from being underwater for so long — maybe you have been.

But he doesn’t say anything, only takes your hand in his and with a couple panting sighs, pulls you towards the stairs, towards his bedroom. He looks at you with a silent question etched on his face.

You nod before you know what’s happening, and he’s whisking you off into his room. You’ve never been in his room before, upstairs, sure, to help Sarah with things. But his room was unspokenly off limits. It smells like him, and as the tears reside and the genuine want rushes over you, it seems like he’s one step ahead of you, closing the door, and guiding you back towards the bed.

He’s kissing you, it’s sloppy but calculated at the same time. So much pent up frustrations and wandering eyes seemed to break at the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands running up and down your body.

You’re moaning and whimpering into his mouth, almost desperate despite always trying to remain stoic. But who are you kidding, it’s Joel.

“Please,” you bite when his mouth trails kisses down your neck and even more so when he slips your top off, catching your nipple in his hot mouth.

“Joel,” you whine again, when all he does is hum against your sensitive bud.

“Baby,” he says, and you notice the drawl is back. Like it never left, rich and honeyed — matching what you imagine every night before bed — hell — every waking moment.

You’re naked before you muster the brain power to notice him taking your clothes off. He doesn’t bother with his clothes, almost like he’s too eager to see you, forgetting about himself. You claw at his flannel but he pushes your hands back and over your head, rending your arms useless.

His other hand reaches down, finding your aching cunt dripping onto the gray bed sheets and he genuinely groans at the feeling. Brooding Joel Miller reduced to a moaning mess at the feeling of you wet and hot for him. The thought drives you up the walls a bit.

“Fuckin’ wet, so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart,” he grumbles more to himself than to you.

He runs his fingers over your outer lips while mouthing at your neck — you whimper and squirm under his grasp but his hand just holds yours harder. It might — no, it definitely will leave bruises on your wrists the next morning, but you could care less. The biting pain of it shoots right down to that white hot burn in your lower stomach.

“Quit movin’,” he says while beginning to trail down, almost like a warning for when he releases your wrists and settles in between your legs. He pants hot breath onto your swollen folds and despite his warning, you squirm underneath him. Joel seems a bit too desperate to tell you to stop or punish you otherwise.

When his lips place a hesitant kiss to your clit you almost scream, forcing his head in between your thighs and when he stops, you realize you might be squeezing him too tight. You sit up a bit, releasing your thighs when he stops and looks up at you.

“‘M sorry — shit — I — no one’s ever…I’m sorry, Joel—”

“‘M fine, lay back down.”

You do lay back down, but you're hesitant.

“No one ever do this to you, baby?” he asks, smiling up at you from between your legs, your face feels hot and you hide a shy smile. He mouths at your thighs and places a few gentle kisses to your folds.

“No, I — I guess not.”

“It feel good?”

“Good? Joel it feels fucking—”

“I knew it,” as he takes another taste of the slick dripping out of your entrance. “I fuckin’ knew it.”

“What?”

“Knew you’d taste like heaven,” he says with a muffled groan, sinking his tongue back into your aching hole, his nose rubbing against your clit in a way that makes you shut your eyes so tight you see stars.

His mouth feels like a shot. Your grip in his hair, more like the chaser, grounding you back to the bed, his bed. In his room. The bite of him seeping through every corner of your body, his flat tongue pulling your fast approaching orgasm out of you so quickly you forget your name.

“Joel, I—”

You shut up because you think he knows, his hum against you sending vibrations through your clit, his wide palms coming up to grasp at your thighs until the spasms from your orgasm cease.

He keeps going even after you come down from your high, mouthing at your entrance which seems to get even wetter after you come. He snakes back up to kiss you, you moan into his mouth at the taste of your own slick all over his lips.

The feeling of his clothed length pressed into your all too sensitive cunt makes the wanting need spark back up, like he’s blowing hot air onto a fire starter, and it just ignited.

“Need you,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, his hands coming to grab your breasts, he’s everywhere, and you need more. And you need it now.

He pulls back at your words, a darker look on his face. You remember this look from the bathroom, when he asked you to beg for his cock, his name, and to cum inside your hot cunt.

“I — I don’t think I can be gentle, baby — I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Please, want it rough,” you tell him, looking back into his brown eyes, almost pleading.

I just need you.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he says with your final words, your permission. Joel suddenly hauls you up towards the head of the bed so you’re resting against his pillows. He shucks off his flannel and t-shirt, undoing the belt buckle of his pants in such a timely manner, if you weren’t watching him intently you might’ve missed it.

He’s kissing you, rubbing his cock through the slick of your folds, you remember the punch of his girth and how the length of his cock almost kissed your cervix, and you don’t know if you’ll ever be prepared for that feeling, especially now, when you’re pent up, and tense and you just need him.

“God, feel fuckin’ perfect, baby,” he says, running the tip of his cock through your folds, when it hits your clit you buck up against him, but he falters.

“Easy.”

His voice, his drawl, a bit darker, but you’re not scared. Like he said before, he can’t go easy, he can’t be gentle. You don’t want him to, anyway.

But what surprises you is when the tip of his cock comes to fit snug against your entrance, he falters. Almost like he’s asking the final permission, in a dark drawl that might almost sound whiny if he wasn’t so brooding—

“Can I? Please?”

“Yes. Joel, yes, please — ngh —” he cuts you off, sinking into your heat with a tight thrust, you’re surprised at the stretch of his length, it’s like he barely fits.

“What…Jesus — you —?”

“Didn’t touch myself much,” you admit, knowing what he’s saying; How are you so fucking tight?

“Was trying not to think — ngh — about you.”

Your face feels a bit hot when you remember your phone call half a week ago. It was one of the first times following the night at the bar you touched yourself, and there was definitely no time to see anyone in the last couple weeks.

Joel can evidently feel that too, groaning when he sinks in to the hilt, his breath punching somewhere near your ear, his hand bruising your waist with the force that he grips you with.

“You gotta relax, baby, I —”

“Please just — move, Joel,” he laughs a bit at your neediness, but it’s cut off with a groan as he moves, retreating a fraction of an inch before pushing back in, rending your breathless, boneless.

He picks up his pace when you start to relax around him, mold to him, like he’s the only one who will ever fit inside you. His groans and grunts are no match to mask your whimpers, his praises ring through your head, you feel weightless.

“Fuckin’ perfect, angel,” he groans, you claw at his back, probably leaving scratch marks but you’re too fucked out to care. “Just like I remembered.”

It feels like old times. Before all this mess, before the incident in the car, on the porch, outside the bar. Before Tommy, or Caroline, or Janet fucking Baker. Before everything. Before all the laters and everything unsaid. Like old times. Like he’s saying Hi for the first time and not Goodbye like he has been for the last week.

His grip on your waist tightens if possible — so much for wearing a bikini tomorrow at the party. The bite of his fingers almost snap you out of it, but he feels so good, teetering you right on the edge of painful as he spears into you with no remorse. It’s like he can’t help himself, and he probably can’t considering all the blue balls over the last few weeks.

For some reason that spurs you on further, your orgasm quickly approaches with each stab of his fingertips digging into you, his hot breath near your face, and the feeling of coarse hair nudging at your clit just right.

“J-Joel,” you moan, but you don’t think you have to tell him you’re close. You know he can feel it.

“Missed you so much – fuck, baby,” he groans, placing hot kisses on your neck, “Needed you. Needed this.”

“Joel—” it’s already braced on your lips, you both know it. An unspoken ritual that feels way too possessive for either of your own good — but you say it anyways and he groans all the same.

“Can I cum? Joel, please?”

You don’t really hear much aside from his small yes and your vision blinks white as you moan out long and deep into his ear. He fucks you through it, grunting out praises when he feels you get impossibly tight around him.

It might even be too much but you don’t care.

You wait for him, your aftershocks sending him closer to his own release as his hips stutter and he gets out one last demand that sends him over the edge.

“Say it’s me — sweetheart. Please,” he groans, almost begging. Like it’s the last thing that will push him towards bliss.

“‘S you, Joel — it’s-’s always been you,” you comply and feel him groan and shudder when his orgasm rolls through him. You can feel the hot stickiness of it roll through you, and he holds himself up to whisper one last thing to you before you both slump onto the bed and fall asleep.

“Tell him no. Tell him — just — just be with me.”

You nod, panting, he finally falls into the crook of your neck and you welcome it graciously, pulling at his curls until you fall asleep.

“Okay,” you whisper.

chapter vi. bruises

taglist! comment or message me if you want to be added. (for this series, i took the liberty of adding you to the taglist if you commented that you wanted more parts on chaser. you can let me know if you want to be taken off) kisses!

@sofiparallel @akah565 @going-to-californiaxx @gintheginger @defnotashifter @missgurrl @daddy-din @earthtogrogu @rooney-verse @ratoonstown @skysmiller @pedritosdarling @lovely-ateez @pluzo @spongebobspooploop @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tsunamistorm123 @awhoreforalotofshows @disassociation-daydreams @anoverwhelmingdin @violinchick @rhoorl @yoongjennie88

@rainbowcosmicchaos @pedropascalissofine @purplemechanics @suzmagine @untamedheart81 @hellaradd @josephine1837 @noisynightmarepoetry @lawh0re @joelsversion @vanillen @brujitafantomatico @cartoon-garbage04 @jpbplvr @whattownheadshake @beccerjune @pedrotonin @sen-mirjahaal @awesomebunnyqueen @bluetattoos @sunnysaphira @vickywallace @bbyanarchist @gossipgirl-03 @casa-boiardi

@anavatazes @joeldjarin @l0vem3n @brinabees @lmariephoto37 @tsunamistorm123 @splicer13vex @turtles-all-the-way-d0wn @withasideofmeg @dinwifey

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sw1mmingfoolz · 2 years

Text

💞 boyfriend!lee know headcanons 💞

requested? Y/N - 'could i pls request some boyfriend!lee know headcanons? i am soft for him these days haha thanks!' - anonymous

genre: bullet point hcs, fluff :)

content warnings: none! although i use purposeful lower caps and a lot of ig "text speech" haha

pairing: lee know x gn!reader

a/n: thank you smsmsmsm for requesting this cuz i am so soft for this man 😭 i haven't written something like this in a while but on my old blog i had a series called 'dating would include' and the wonwoo one was by far my most popular post it had like 2k notes or smth iirc, so this felt oddly nostalgic hehe. lmk if you want these for any other members and as always feedback is SUPER appreciated, it makes my day! hope you're all doing well 💞

ok this guy. an absolute PRO at being your biggest fan but pretending he isn’t

like he’ll poke fun and all but every time you go shopping he’s not moving on with his day until you do a lil haul for him - he is always hyping you up

he cares so much about your studies/job as well like he’s constantly asking questions about your day and he wants to know absolutely everything about the lil specialist things you know

and rip his bubble whether the fans want it or not they're just bombarded with y/n content cuz man's a simp

i hate the idea that he's cold and emotionless cuz while i feel like he'd want to wait on telling you he loves you but after he does for the first time he tells you constantly and always goes out of his way to SHOW you too

absolutely carries photobooth photos of you and him from an anniversary in his phone case next to polaroids of his cats (which the members find him gazing lovingly at all the time but daren't tease him about lmao)

and he loves taking lil candids of you just existing like he does with the other members

all that being said he’s so sarcastic you struggle to tell when he’s being serious sometimes lmao

like he’ll just be like “ah you’re so cool, dumbass” n you’re like?? thanks i think?

but then he hits you with the most genuine love out of nowhere when your guard is down and you’re all breathless like let me live please

he isn’t very touchy especially at first but ends up really liking casual touch a lot

like playing with each other’s fingers, having a leg thrown over one anothers, linking pinkies etc

he's such a sucker for back hugs too, 100%

but also your butt is never safe lol watch your back he is ready to slap all the dang time

teases you to no end but in a loving way

and will kill any of the other members if they tease you. that’s his job >:(

you're like best friends honestly everyone is very jealous of your bond cuz you just get each other, sometimes without needing words

you’re now the adoptive parent to his cats and his fourth cat simultaneously, somehow

he will give you lil forehead nuzzles like he does the cats and you find it genuinely adorable

also a forehead kiss guy, he totally strikes me as a "quick face kiss to show i love u" kinda guy

teases you about the baby voice you use with the cats as if he doesn’t do the exact same thing and even accidentally use it on you sometimes lmao

loves when you read to one another! will die if you lie in his lap and listen to him read, he is so soft for that kinda thing

just a very domestic kinda romance in general especially as it develops

he way prefers dates at home cooking together (or him cooking for you while you watch and make jokes about “what else is hot”), watching films (especially ghibli!) or anime and just cuddling up

you eat better than you ever have this man is hell bent on making sure you e a t

he's gone on tour? the fridge has been stocked to the brim beforehand and oop the freezer has too so there’s stuff that’ll last even longer

he dances around everywhere and often tries to pull you along into it

the whole dancing in the refrigerator light at 3am trope? that’s him

will tell you he loves you enough but prefers to show it through his actions

him cooking for you, refilling your car’s gas or topping your bus pass/subway card up for you, buying you the odd snack he knows you like that's sold in one specific grocery store, going for lil woodland walks together and picking you the flowers he knows you like, keeping a list of every place you mention wanting to go or restaurant you mention wanting to try, showing affection in subtle ways in public and making an effort to spend as much time as he can around busy schedules with you are all silent ways of telling you he loves you

he loves an independent partner though as even when he isn't busy sometimes he just needs time with himself to clear his head

like if you're on the same couch just in silence doing your own thing, he really appreciates that kinda connection and the ability to have that space

he can tell what you're feeling before even you do sometimes; he's extremely intuitive

if you're upset he's bringing the nearest cat to nuzzle up to you before he does himself

his cuddles are all healing istg

listens attentively to whatever is worrying you workout feeling the need to interject solutions; he knows you just want to vent and then distract yourself for a while and he's happy to provide that

walking next to the han river constantly without your phones just to talk about everything and anything

communication is important in all relationships obviously but he values it so much you guys tell each other like. everything.

he respects your privacy though of course, you're just so close whenever something happens both of you immediately think "i gotta tell minho"/"i gotta tell y/n" 🥺

as such fights aren’t really a thing with you cuz as soon as either of you are upset you’re talking about it

and he knows ALL about that one coworker you can't stand, he hasn't even met them and he hates them too 😤

he gets shy when you kiss him but will absolutely try not to show it

if you ever kiss his scar it’s game over there’s no hiding it he is so red

it's such an intimate thing like he's absolutely someone who is a little scared to be vulnerable and needs to be shown it's okay to open up and that he doesn't need to be perfect to be loved :')

very subtle couple items, like shoes or jewelry

sings to you all the time, especially if you’re struggling to sleep

records lil voice notes of him doing so for when you're having a hard time or he's away

will just straight up make up songs on the spot that make no sense and do not rhyme or metre properly and they make you laugh every time which only spurs him on

he absolutely loves making you laugh with his deadpan style of humour (not that he'd ever tell you how much he adores that sound) and you quickly adopt it too. the others are constantly side eyeing you as you trade weird jokes back and forth but they just appreciate how insanely happy you make him because he is not afraid to show it

just a very lighthearted and communicative kinda love that feels easy from the very start :’)

masterlist | tell me what you thought?

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