Confessions - Ot8 X Reader

confessions - ot8 x reader

˗ˏˋ pairing: ot8 x gn!reader (individual)

˗ˏˋ description: their reaction to you confessing that you have a crush on them

˗ˏˋ tags: text messages !!

˗ˏˋ taglist: if you want to be (un)added, send me an ask please !!

don't repost. don't translate. minors and ageless blogs dni!

it's ... april fools day ... in south korea already ... so i thought i would join ... please don't block me

Coups’s ass

makeout point (l.k)

i don't remember what i was doing when i thought of this idea, but i'm glad i did it 👀 i wanted it to be smuttier than this but i just couldn't do it 😩 i hope you guys enjoy!

this is a non!idol au 🥰

Your phone ringing loudly beside you wakes you from your slumber. You jump at the sound, picking your head up. "What the fuck?" You groan out before taking the phone into your hands, noticing the time. "It's two a.m."

You answer the call and press the phone against your ear, mumbling out a tired greeting. "I'm outside your apartment," Minho's voice comes through the speakers, causing your eyebrows to furrow.

"Wait, what?" You ask in confusion, starting to feel more awake. Minho sighs and repeats himself. "Okay, but why? We're not that close."

"I didn't know who else to go to at this hour," he explains.

You sit up and gently rub your face. "And you thought I was a good choice?" You laugh while throwing the covers off of you.

"Never mind. I'll go somewhere else," Minho mentions, hearing him sigh into the receiver.

"No, wait, Minho!" You say quickly, catching him before he can hang up. "I'll be down in a minute, okay?"

He quietly agrees before hanging up. You run a hand through your hair, wondering why Lee Minho would want to spend his time with you this early in the night.

The two of you aren't exactly close friends. The only reason you talk to each other is because you're friends with his friends. You throw a hoodie over your head before grabbing your tennis shoes.

On the way out of your apartment, you grab your house keys. It doesn't take you long to reach the lobby after locking your front door.

"Oh, and it's raining," you laugh to yourself while shaking your head. You spot Minho's car, and you run towards it, quickly sliding into the passenger seat.

You release a puff of breath and glance over at the brunette in the driver's seat. His eyes stay glued to the steering wheel, which his hands are gripping.

"Minho?" You softly call out to him, hovering your hand over his forearm. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry for just stopping by," he apologizes, turning his head to look at you.

You lean back into the seat, frowning. "It's okay. Talk to me," you encourage him.

He scoffs and shakes his head. "Do you even care?" Minho asks you, returning his gaze forward. "Especially with how I've treated you."

You grow confused as he continues to mumble incoherently. You place your hand on his arm while your free hand gently grabs a hold of his chin.

"Hey, I can care about you even if we don't see eye to eye," you tell him. You slowly drop your hand, keeping one on his forearm. "Why don't we go for a drive and talk."

Minho nods his head, not saying anything else. You buckle your seat belt before he starts to drive. Silence fills the vehicle for a few minutes, your eyes staring out the passenger window.

"If you want, you can play some music. It'll be about twenty minutes before we get there," he speaks up, glancing towards you.

"Thanks," you chuckle and grab a hold of the auxiliary cord. You plug your phone into it and search through your Spotify.

The song you pick plays through the speakers, returning your gaze back out the window. "I love this song," Minho laughs, a smile coming to his lips for the first time tonight.

"It's so good!" You almost squeal, releasing a deep sigh. "I love their music so much."

"Yeah, me too."

You roll your head along the seat, staring into the side of his head. "Who would've thought that you and I would have something in common," you joke with a grin.

Minho chuckles breathlessly, silently agreeing with you.

-

Twenty minutes later, Minho pulls up to a cliff, overlooking Seoul. Your eyes widen as you notice two other cars parked. "Minho? You know what this spot is, yeah?" You ask him nervously.

"Yeah, but this is the best spot that overlooks the city," he mentions with a shrug, unbuckling his seat belt. He turns in his seat a bit, giving you his attention. "If you're uncomfortable, we can leave."

"No, no, it's okay," you stammer, waving your hand. "I just didn't expect to ever come here."

"You've never been here?" He asks you with a raised brow. You shake your head in response, a blush dusting your cheeks. "Hm, I would've thought you have."

You laugh, playfully rolling your eyes as you unbuckle your belt. "And why's that?" You ask curiously.

"Have you looked at yourself? You're drop dead gorgeous," Minho tells you, running a hand through his hair.

You blush even more at his words, hiding your face in your hands. "Oh, stop it. No, I'm not," you disagree, chuckling lightly.

"Mm, nope, you are."

"You're pretty handsome yourself," you compliment him, tucking some hair behind your ears.

He smiles at you, and your heart flutters in your chest. He reaches his hand forward, taking one of yours. "I'm really sorry for how I've treated you," Minho sighs, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. "You're pretty cool, and you're very cute."

"Is this why you came to me?" You laugh, your fingers tangling with his. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?"

Minho chuckles, his cheeks becoming flushed. "It wasn't my intention, no," he laughs, feeling embarrassed. "I mean, I definitely wouldn't mind doing what the youths do here."

"If we do… you won't ghost me after, will you?" You ask in a whisper, the tension around the two of you thickening.

"Absolutely not," he breathes, noticing your face getting closer to his. "You won't regret it?"

You shake your head, stabilizing yourself on the center console. Minho's free hand strokes your jawline before his lips connect with yours. Your eyes slowly flutter shut, your stomach starting to do flips as you kiss him back.

Your hands stay intertwined as he deepens the kiss, feeling his tongue glide across your lips. You part your lips, and your tongues start colliding with one another. Minho releases your hand, moving his to your waist.

"C'mere," he says into the kiss, his fingers gripping the hoodie you're wearing.

You climb over the console before settling down onto his lap. Your hands find their way into his hair, combing it back. "I never would've thought this would happen," you giggle.

Minho hums and pulls you back in, pressing his lips to yours again. You moan against his lips as your hands rest on the nape of his neck. You grind your hips, causing the brunette to grip your waist.

"Don't start something you can't finish," he warns you, the air around you becoming warm.

"And if I can?" You ask, grinding your hips again.

He leans back against the seat, a smug grin on his lips, "then take a ride."

You feel yourself clench at his words, another moan slipping past your lips. You drag one of your hands down his chest before stopping at the hem of his sweats. You start to feel nervous as you keep your gaze on his lap.

Minho gently caresses your face, and he lifts your head up to look at him. "If you're not comfortable riding me here, you don't have to," he reassures you with a soft smile.

"I-I want to, I do," you stutter, fumbling with the drawstrings. "Maybe you can come back to my place?"

He chuckles and nods his head, capturing your lips one more time. Minho taps your hips, signaling for you to get back into the passenger seat.

You maneuver back into your seat, grinning ear to ear. You buckle your seatbelt as Minho does the same. After turning the vehicle on, he backs out of the spot you're parked in before starting the drive back to your apartment.

-

You haven't been able to stop smiling. It's been almost a week since the night Minho picked you up at two in the morning. And, he kept his word about not ghosting you. He's already taken you out to dinner twice.

Tonight, everyone is going to Han's place for a movie night. You're pretty excited. You haven't been able to hang out with the rest of the group for a couple of weeks now.

You and Minho make your way into Han's apartment building, your fingers intertwined with his. Once the two of you are alone in the elevator, you speak up.

"Did you… did you want to tell our friends about us?" You ask him shyly, glancing up at the brunette.

Minho rubs his thumb on the back of your hand, turning his gaze towards you. "I don't care if they know. You're mine now," he smirks, bringing his free hand to your face.

Your heart flutters in your chest, a light blush coming to your face. "I'm yours," you repeat quietly, squeezing his hand.

"It would be kind of funny to do it randomly though," he suggests, wiggling his brows.

A laugh leaves your lips, and you agree with him. As soon as the elevator opens up, Minho releases your hand. You can't help but giggle to yourself, picturing how your friends are going to react to the news.

Minho knocks on the door before purposely starting an argument. "Who even invited you? Didn't Han say it was a guy's night?" He mentions loud enough for them to hear through the front door.

You scoff, rolling your eyes at him. "He literally texted me and asked if I wanted to come. If you don't want me here, you're more than welcome to go home," you banter, crossing your arms over your chest.

Han opens the door and immediately breaks the two of you apart. "Guys, already?!" He cries out, wishing that you two would get along. "Min, I invited everyone. Which includes her."

"Whatever," he mutters while pushing past the shorter man.

Han watches him walk into his apartment before returning his gaze to you. "I'm sorry. I thought he'd already be here," he sighs.

"It's okay. It's not your fault he's an ass," you reassure him with a smile.

The two of you follow Minho into the apartment before you kick off your shoes. Everyone greets you with a warm welcome as Minho flops onto the couch. You meet his gaze, watching a smirk form on his lips.

"Hey, guys! It's been too long," you tell them genuinely, having missed their presence. You hug each one individually, making sure to skip Minho. You turn towards Han again. "You bought drinks, yeah?"

"Yes! They're in the fridge," he motions towards the kitchen, standing behind Felix. The two of them are both scrolling through Netflix, trying to find a movie.

You nod and make your way into the kitchen, opening the fridge. You grab your favorite drink along with Min's. You walk back into the living room, capturing Seungmin's attention.

"Do you need two drinks?" He laughs, his question making the others turn to you.

"No," you laugh, shaking your head. You don't say anything else while handing Minho his drink.

You hear a couple of gasps, making you snap your head up. Chan, Felix, Han, and Hyunjin's jaws are dropped, each one staring at you with wide eyes.

"What?" You ask innocently, glancing towards the other two before Minho.

"Thanks, honey," he tells you with a smile, his hand reaching for yours to pull you into the spot next to him.

Seungmin and Changbin are now shocked as well as Minho slides his hand across your thigh. "Wait, wait," Han starts, walking around the large couch. "What the hell is happening?"

Minho squeezes your thigh. "I don't know what you mean, Han," he says nonchalantly. "I'm just thanking my partner."

"Partner?!" Felix squeaks, snapping his head in Han's direction.

"Yeah, we're together now," you chime in, leaning into Minho's side. You can feel him kiss the side of your head as you rest a hand on his abdomen.

"You're joking, right?" Chan asks, squinting his eyes.

Minho smiles and shakes his head in response. "Actually, we're not. I asked her out a week ago," he confesses to his friends.

Your cheeks blush as his fingers comb through your hair. "Holy shit this is amazing," Han mentions while pacing the room. "We've been telling each other for months now that the two of you needed to fuck your feelings out."

Your breath hitches in your throat, your eyes growing wide. "What-" you cut yourself off. No, they've got to be the one joking now.

"You guys were wrong," Minho mentions, capturing their attention. "We figured out our feeling right before we fucked."

"Min!" You screech, covering your face in embarrassment.

"Okay, gross!" A unison of voices echoes off the walls, causing the both of you to laugh.

~

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight

[11:05] “You know he loves you, don’t you?” Chan questions as he hands you his car keys. You fiddle with the soft toy that hangs between the keys, tugging at the small wolf’s ears. 

Chan sighs. “Fine,” he says. “Just go.” 

You take a step towards the door before hesitating, lifting your eyes to meet his. You’d have to trust he’d keep this conversation to himself. You could feel it already, the anxiety that would bubble up to your throat the second you left the apartment with this conversation unresolved.

Minho was leaving. He was moving out—across the country—and he hadn’t said a word to you about it. Sure, you didn’t live here. But you may as well have. You spent so much time and the apartment he shared with Chan they’d often joke about when you were going to start splitting the bills. 

“What if he changes his mind?” you ask, managing to keep your voice steady. “If I do something… change how it is now… what if he changes his mind?” 

“Why would he do that?” 

“Because he’ll know me. He’ll get closer and maybe he won’t like what he finds.” 

Chan takes the keys from your hands, halting your fiddling. “Sit down,” he instructs gently, gesturing to the small lounge you’d taken to falling asleep on some nights. You do as he says, folding your hands in your lap as you wait for him to join you. 

He doesn’t. 

You watch as he disappears down the short hallway and into Minho’s bedroom, returning only moments later with a small shoebox in his hand. He doesn’t drag it out. He sits on the small table in front of you and opens the lid. 

It reminded you a lot of the small box you kept under your bed in your childhood bedroom, a collection of miscellaneous things you’d attached memories to as you’d grown. A bracelet from your 11th birthday, a playing card you’d scooped out of the water on your trip to Vietnam, the paper mache rabbit you’d made when you were 8, the key to the padlock you’d used for your locker in high school.

This box was much like that. You don’t recognise anything at first, not until Chan digs out a small clay cat, one of your earliest attempts at moulding clay figures. It was an ugly thing, wonky and misshapen. Minho had snatched it from your hands when you’d announced it was going in the rubbish. “He can’t help being ugly,” he’d said. “He’s mine now.” 

Chan passes the clay cat to you. He’s cuter than you’d remembered.

“They’re all from you," he says. 

You look up. “Hm?” 

“The box,” he clarifies. “They’re all things you’ve given him.” 

You peak into the box, attempting to spot anything else you recognise. There are scattered pieces of paper, some are sticky notes you vaguely remember attaching to his bedroom door on days you’d visited when he wasn’t home. You pick one up and read it silently, ‘You missed me. Unlucky for you. I’ll be around Friday.’ You’d drawn a small rabbit in the corner. 

Chan takes the note from you along with the clay cat. You watch as he places them back inside the shoebox and replaces the lid. “I shouldn’t let you go through it—not without his permission. I just need you to understand.” He places the box on the table beside him carefully, like it’s full of priceless porcelain. “You know him,” he continues. “He doesn’t make decisions lightly. He knows what he wants and when he wants something… that’s it. You’re it.” He sighs. “You know him.” 

You look to his discarded car keys. “You still need milk.” 

“I’ll get it. You’ll stay?” 

You nod. “I’ll stay.” 

—

He leaves shortly after that. Leaves you to pace as you wait for Minho to arrive. He was leaving. Leaving Chan. Leaving you. He hadn’t offered an explanation. 

You jump as he knocks on the door. He expected Chan to be home. He wasn't expecting you. You press your hand to your chest and take one last deep breath before marching over and letting him in. 

His eyes widen a little as he takes you in. You hadn’t seen him in two weeks now. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you’d met three years prior. You step aside to let him in, pressing your fingers into your clavicle in an attempt to ground yourself. 

“I didn’t know you were coming around,” he says as he takes his shoes off. “Chan didn’t—” 

“He left,” you interrupt. “Chan. He went out because he wanted—I wanted to talk to you.” 

He stands and shucks his winter jacket from his shoulders. “Talk to me?” he questions. 

You nod. “Would you… sit? Please?” 

He looks a little nervous now. You wonder if he can see the same emotion in you. He sits exactly where you’d been sitting when Chan had shown you the box. He leaves his beanie on and you take in the way his brown hair peeks out around his neck. He waits. 

You can’t find it within yourself to sit, choosing to stand across from him instead—leaving the small table between you. “Can I ask you something?” 

He nods and his tongue flicks out to wet his lips. “Mm,” he says. “Anything.” 

“It’s a big ‘something’.”

“Okay,” he says simply. 

“Would you stay?” you ask, tugging on your fingers. Your heart thumps in your chest. “If I asked you to stay, would you?” 

His brow furrows slightly. “I—” 

“Because I need you to stay. Please. I need you not to leave me. I know it’s a lot and I don’t know why you’re leaving and I’m sure it’s very important and I don’t even know if you want to stay here. Maybe you don’t but—” 

“Wait,” he says, interrupting your rambling. You take a steadying breath as he stands. He tugs his beanie from his head and drops it onto the table. His hair stands on all ends. You desperately want to run your hands through it. But you can’t. Your knuckle pops as you tug a little hard on one of your fingers. “Leaving?” he questions, clearly confused. Alarm bells ring in your head. “Why would I leave?”

“Chan said—” you cut yourself off. Oh you were going to wrap your hands around his throat and squeeze so hard he– “You’re not leaving?”

“No. But you thought I was…you said you need me to stay...” Minho says with a smirk, making his way around the table slowly. 

“Forget everything I just said.” 

“Can’t,” he says, his smirk transforming into a small grin. “Sorry.” 

You could tell him you’d seen the box, a small voice in your head offers. Then you’d both be embarrassed. You snuff it out before it can fully form. If it was anyone else… But it was him. You’d take much worse than one-sided embarrassment for him. 

“Alright. Well, Chan had his fun. I’m going home.” 

Minho steps in front of you, cutting off your exit. “Stay,” he says simply. 

“Why?” 

“Because I want you to.” 

“Why?” 

He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Because I haven’t seen you in two weeks. Why is that, by the way? Chan said—” 

“Chan says a lot of things, apparently."

Minho collapses into the couch cushions beside you and throws his arm over the back of the lounge. You join him. “He said you were busy,” Minho says. “That you didn’t have time for us.” 

“I was… sulking.” 

He presses his lips together, failing to suppress a smile. “Sulking?” 

“I thought you were moving out. Chan wouldn’t tell me why he said you’d talk to me when you wanted to. But you didn’t. I thought you were leaving without even talking to me about it.” 

The hand over the back of the couch moves a little, then he begins playing with your hair—gentle fingers fiddling with the strands that fall over your shoulder. “I think it’s my fault,” he says as you struggle to regulate your breathing. “I said something to him a few weeks ago. Something that may have… caused this. I’ll fix it.” 

His fiddling with your hair breaks a barrier, one that allows you to lean a little towards him and fix the strands of hair that stick on all ends. He’s quiet at first, letting you brush his hair out with your fingers. Then, just as you begin working on a particularly stubborn tuft right at his parting, he speaks, “I would never leave you,” he says. It’s almost a whisper. Gentle and quiet, almost like he hadn’t meant to speak it at all. 

“You wouldn’t?”

He takes your arm, stubborn tuft forgotten. “I thought you knew that. I thought you knew that I…” he trails off as his eyes drop to where his fingers wrap around your wrist. 

“Minho?” you whisper. He looks up. “I do. I know.” 

He blinks, a brief moment of panic crossing his features as his fingers tighten on your wrist. 

“I love you, too,” you add quickly, keen to end his anxiety. “So much.” 

He blinks. Once, twice. Then he drops his head, letting his hair fall over his eyes. He takes a deep breath and you watch as he lifts your wrist to his lips. You can’t see the way he presses a kiss to your skin, his long hair obscuring your view. But you feel it. You feel his warm breath as he holds you there for a moment afterwards. 

Then he lifts his head. 

You catch a blur of his smile as he lunges at you, pushing you onto your back as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. He keeps the majority of his weight off you and you bask in the warmth of him for the minute of two he stays like this. Then he’s sitting up again, tugging you up with him and practically lifting you into his lap. You wrap your arms around him, settling yourself comfortably against him as he releases a contented sigh. 

“Did Chan tell you?” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your shoulder. 

“I knew before that.” 

He groans, dropping his head back. You can see the tiny mole at his jawline: a target. You press a gentle kiss there. “I knew you loved me,” you whisper. “You’re so good at it.. so full of love. But I—I think I was afraid you’d stop, like when you see a stray cat and you’re afraid if you move it’ll startle…that it’ll leave and you’ll never get to try again. Having you as a friend is better than not having you at all.” 

He lifts his head to look at you. You can see the way he’s fighting it, all the emotion. He doesn’t express it with words, but he doesn’t need to. It leaks from his eyes and from his gentle touches. “I don’t startle,” he grumbles after a moment. 

You grin. “‘M’kay, whatever you say,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his for the first time. 

*gay panic intensifies*

— make a wish

pairing: minho x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, established relationship. content: 18+ minors dni. warnings below cut. word count: 3.9k

summary: it’s your boyfriends birthday. you can’t afford to get him much—so you offer him a small coupon book of favours. he cashes in immediately.

a/n: reupload bc of shadowban mess, i’m sorry! thank u so much to everyone who read and gave me feedback the first time, love u for it ❤︎︎

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