#WHERE IS YOUR BOY TONIGHT I HOPE HE IS A GENTLEMAN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jjslaybank · 2 months ago

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mine - rafe cameron

warnings: porn WITH plot, use of degrading language to describe reader ("fucktoy," "slut," "bitch"), unprotected sex

i recommend listening to "it's no good" by depeche mode or "come undone" by duran duran while reading :)

omg this has been in my drafts for probably a MONTH atp 😭 hope you guys like it <3 OH and imagine s2!rafe while reading

please read till the end for a few more notes from yours truly 🥰

🏷list: @slut-4-gojo @booklover-6665 @amel1ee @riaras-everthroner

ward is going to kill him.

fuck it, rafe thinks to himself as he enters a strip club. he clutches the money his father had given him to escape the outer banks tightly to his chest as he surveys the scene in front of him.

he squints his eyes, adjusting to the dim lighting of the room. the whole place smells heavily of sweat and cigarettes. he believes it's the perfect place to find a little fucktoy to help him forget the intense pressure he's currently under.

it was then that he spots you — dancing and humping and grinding against the pole as men throw you money.

"holy shit," rafe mumbles softly to himself, his feet carrying him near to the pole you're dancing with before he even knew what his body was doing. a few men shoot him dirty looks. he never noticed them — his eyes are solely on you.

you're wearing your favorite pair — black, lacy underwear and a matching black pushup bra which pushed your tits higher than normal, deepening your cleavage.

as you notice rafe staring, you give him a wink. his eyes darken.

he needs you.

and he's willing to do whatever was necessary to have his way with you.

"hey, asshole!"

he turns to face one of the men who had rudely greeted him.

"eyes off my damn property."

"what?" rafe asks, squinting at the man. "what do you mean? she's like... like your girlfriend or something?"

the man scoffs. "hell no. just my property for the night."

he holds up a keychain with a singular key attached and a small, white jade stone.

the man nods his head to where you were dancing, oblivious to the conversation. "jade's my little slut for tonight, so i better not see your lousy ass around her. got that?"

rafe growls. no way in hell was he losing this pretty girl to an asshole like him.

"hell no."

the man stands up, slamming his fist down on the table to emphasize the motion. others look on at the commotion.

"i think you oughta learn some manners, boy."

"how much did you pay?" rafe asks, sighing and rolling his eyes as he rubs the bridge of his nose. he had been in too many fights recently. the poor guy just wants to empty his balls into some willing, pretty slut.

"more than you can comprehend."

rafe raises an eyebrow, squeezing the wad of bills ward had given him.

"number."

the man tilts his head, confused. "what?"

"give me a number."

"more than 1k."

"1k," rafe echoes to himself as he shakes his head, the tone in his voice almost mocking. "i have so, so much more than that... that lousy amount you're paying her. hey jade!"

you turn towards him, responding to your stripper name.

"if i pay you more, will you let me fuck you instead of him?"

"depends on the amount," you reply, batting your eyelashes at him as you continue dancing around the pole.

you can barely see his face as you converse, but you can make out the curtain bangs, hunched back, and the furrow of his eyebrows as he flips through his stack of bills.

"5k," rafe says.

your eyes light up and you shrug at the other man who had "bought" you for the night.

"sorry, i'm going with this fine young gentleman tonight." you gesture at rafe.

"you made a deal, bitch!" the man yells. rafe's eyes flash with anger. he grabs the man by his shirt collar.

"she said she's going with me! back the fuck off!"

rafe pushes the man down and he collides with a nearby table. he then frantically fishes a sizable stack of bills from his stash. as he hands it to you and you take it from him, his fingers reach to grab yours - effectively sandwiching the money between your hand and his.

he begins to run but you pause, picking up the key the other man was holding earlier. rafe takes the key from you and heads to the back of the club with you in tow.

the back is a hallway with doors - somewhat like what you'd see at a hotel. names of available women were attached at the top of each door.

"jade," he murmurs, looking at the names of the doors.

"jade," you repeat as an agreement. a good look at the man reveals to you his set jaw and conflicted eyes. you can feel something brewing beneath the surface, but you push it aside. you were told not to be nosy. you were lying if you said you didn't find hin sexy. in fact, to say he was attractive was an understatement.

you pull him to the door marked with your name. you grab the key from his hand as he lets you go and open the door.

the room inside is lit by a single small lamp perched atop a dresser. a bed sits in the middle, taking up most of the small room's space.

"shit," rafe sighs, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. "just wanted to empty my balls, dammit. no confrontations, no fights..."

he begins to pace around the room. "everyone's fucking after me. like... like everyone wants me gone or dead – or just out of their life. i'm not doing good, man. just gotta... just gotta push it aside and focus on the now, though. like... you know? just gotta man up!"

"hey," you begin calmly. "it's all good. i'm yours for tonight, 'kay?"

rafe sits down at the edge of the bed. you follow suit.

"calm down. i'm here. thanks for the money."

he nods, trying to calm himself. you take his hand. he looks into your eyes with what you think is a hint of vulnerability, but it immediately gets replaced with hunger. his eyes darken, and you liken it to a predator about to pounce on its prey.

rafe grabs your shoulders and lifts you, throwing you face down into the bed. your makeup stains the white sheets.

he paces around the bed, a low hum sounding from his lips. "don't fucking move, jade. you understand?"

"y-yes..." you reply meekly, feeling your panties dampen. being manhandled was something that turned you on more than you realized.

"just be good for me, okay?" rafe asks, his voice trembling slightly as he undos his pants. "such a pretty fucking ass."

you jolt as he slaps the meaty flesh. rafe chuckles lowly.

"i did everything i could to have you, and now you're here. and i'm about to fuck you."

you hear the soft clink of his belt buckle as it hits the floor. your heart skips a beat, your anticipation at its peak.

"but i'm gonna be nice about it," he mutters more to himself than to you. "gonna prep this tight fucking hole."

your bottoms come off with one swift tug, and rafe inhales them deeply, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"fuuuuccckk," he gasps shakily, his nostrils full of your scent.

he puts his middle finger into his mouth and wets it before slowly sliding it into your wet hole. his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head as he feels your hot, warm walls envelop his finger.

"oh, fuck," you moan, your back arching. the fact that you couldn't see what he was doing turned you on even more.

"give it to me, baby," rafe says, pumping his finger in and out of you faster.

he adds another finger and you gasp.

"that's it," rafe coaxes. "so fucking tight and wet, you slut."

he removes his fingers and positions his cock near your stretched hole, hissing at the contact.

"shit." rafe groans. "fuck, it's gonna feel so good filling this tight cunt up."

he takes a deep breath as he removes his finger and enters you. your eyes roll to the back of your head as you moan loudly.

"fucking hell," rafe growls. "shit, you're so fucking tight!"

he rocks into you, his cock filling you up completely.

"such a pretty fuckin' cunt," he murmurs, leaning down to bite the shell of your ear.

"this cunt," he continues, accentuating his words with harsh thrusts, "is all mine for tonight."

he pants, speeding up his thrusts. "i hope you're on the pill because i'm cumming inside this greedy fuckin' cunt."

you nod, your mind hazy with lust. "mhm, i'm clean and take the pill."

"good girl. see how she fucking sucks in my fat cock, she was made for me. fuckin' cunt was made for me," he mutters through clenched teeth.

suddenly he slips out of you. you cry out.

"fucking turn around. lemme see that pretty face as i fuck you."

you obey immediately. he lands a gentle slap on your ass as encouragment.

"pretty fuckin' girl," he compliments, leaning down to kiss your lips. you kiss him back, savoring the taste of sweat and marijuana on his lips.

as he pulls back, he re-enters you. you both hiss at the feeling.

"i'll never get enough of this fucking cunt, jade," he groans as you feel his balls slapping against you.

"mm," you whimper, about to moan out his name when you realize he never told you what it was. "wh-what's your name?"

"rafe," he answers, accentuating the one syllable with a deep thrust, making you see stars.

the name falls from your lips as a high-pitched moan. it sounds almost natural. he groans at the sound of his name and he thrusts into you faster, feeling his balls tighten.

"fuck, i'm gonna cum, you slut," he hisses through clenched teeth, the words coming out clipped as he revels in the feel of your pussy.

"cum!" you repeat, your brain going blank as you feel the knot in your stomach close to snap. "cum inside my greedy cunt!"

at that rafe thrusts forward, groaning in ecstasy as his cum shoots deep into your pussy. you cry out as you spasm around his cock, milking it for every last drop.

"fuck," he mutters breathlessly, slowly pulling out to marvel at the mess he made. "would you look at that - a properly bred fucktoy."

you're gasping for breath as you come down from your high.

"fucking shit," you mutter, your thighs soaked with rafe's cum as it slides down from your pussy.

"pretty good, eh?" rafe asks, a low chuckle leaving his lips. "i like it messier, though."

"me too," you admit with a small smile, moving your messy hair out of your face.

"i like you," rafe says, lying down beside you. "maybe i should keep you around. what do you think about coming to wilmington with me?"

charm's notes:

first of all, tysm for reading! <3 i've been working on this for so long lmao. anyways, i have this thing on my blog called "horny hours" where you can hope into my inbox (anon is on, dw) and send me horny thoughts you may have about any of the obx boys! feel free to add links to pics/vids/whatever too! don't forget to read my request rules tho to know what i vibe with. lastly if you want to read more of my work, you can check out my masterlist for my previous works as well as others i'm working on.

©️ jjslaybank, 2024.

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iamgonnagetyouback · 5 months ago

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𝟸𝚔 || 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You don't know what you were thinking when you invited Mattheo over for dinner with your family.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: Mattheo Riddle x potter!Reader

You had no idea what you were thinking when you invited Mattheo Riddle to a family dinner. Maybe you’d gotten swept up in the idea of proving to Harry that Mattheo wasn’t all bad. Maybe you were trying to ease the tension after that disastrous hallway incident. Or maybe you were just in too deep with Mattheo’s charming smile and rebellious streak to think straight.

But now, standing in the middle of the bustling kitchen, you were starting to second-guess the entire plan.

"Everything will be fine," you muttered to yourself, adjusting the collar of your shirt and taking a deep breath.

"Fine?" Harry's voice came from behind you, laced with sarcasm. He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "You really think bringing him here is going to go over fine?"

"Shut up, Harry," you snapped, turning to face your older brother. "Mattheo’s trying. He’s not the monster you think he is."

Harry let out a dramatic sigh. "Yeah, sure. Let’s just see how long he keeps up the 'perfect gentleman' act."

Before you could retort, the doorbell rang, and you both froze. You shot Harry a look, daring him to make a scene. "Behave," you hissed, and with that, you hurried to open the door.

There stood Mattheo, looking… surprisingly presentable. His normally messy curls were combed back, and he wore a crisp white shirt under a tailored jacket. In his hands, he held a bouquet of flowers, looking somewhat out of place but still managing a confident smirk.

"For your mum," he said smoothly, handing the bouquet to you as he stepped inside.

You rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless. "Thanks. They’ll love it."

The two of you walked into the dining room, where Lily and James were already seated at the table. When Mattheo entered, they both looked up.

Lily beamed at him. "Oh, Mattheo, welcome! You look so handsome!" She stood to give him a hug, which he returned, albeit stiffly, clearly not used to such gestures.

"Thank you for having me, Mrs. Potter," Mattheo said, flashing his best smile. "The food smells wonderful."

Lily beamed at Mattheo like he was the most charming boy she’d ever met. “Oh, how sweet of you to be so respectful!” She smiled brightly. “You’re such a lovely guest.”

Harry looked like he might vomit. His eyes darted between his parents and Mattheo, sheer disbelief plastered on his face. “Lovely? Really? Lovely is the word we’re going with?”

Mattheo, ignoring Harry, nodded and sat down across from you, setting his gaze on your father next. "Mr. Potter, I mean, James… sir. Thank you for letting me join you for dinner tonight."

James gave a hearty chuckle, clapping Mattheo on the shoulder. "No need to be so formal, son. We’re happy to have you here." He shot you a wink, which made you smile despite yourself.

Harry, sitting next to Mattheo, was less than amused. He sat with his arms crossed, glaring suspiciously at every polite word that came out of Mattheo’s mouth.

"Can we just eat?" Harry grumbled, reaching for a roll, clearly eager to get this dinner over with.

Mattheo turned his best good-boy grin toward Lily. "Mrs. Potter, these mashed potatoes are divine. You must be an incredible cook, ma’am."

Lily blushed at the compliment. “Oh, thank you, Mattheo! You’re too kind.”

Harry groaned audibly, rolling his eyes so far back you were sure he could see his brain. "What is this, the Mattheo Riddle Fan Club?"

James shot his son a look. “Harry, behave. Mattheo’s our guest.”

You gave him a warning look, but Mattheo, to his credit, kept his cool. "I hope everything’s been going well with school, Harry," Mattheo said in an overly pleasant tone, trying to make conversation. "You must be busy with Quidditch practices, yeah?"

Harry’s eyes narrowed. "You really think this perfect act is fooling anyone?"

"Harry!" Lily snapped, looking mortified. "Where are your manners?"

Harry threw his hands up dramatically. "I’m just saying, you’re all acting like he’s some saint! Meanwhile, he’s—"

You kicked him hard under the table.

"Ouch!" he yelped, glaring at you with wide eyes.

"Shut it, Harry," you muttered through clenched teeth, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Harry scowled, rubbing his shin and glaring at you. “You know I could report this as abuse.”

“You’re being embarrassing,” you hissed back at him, but the grin you were trying to suppress was making it difficult to stay serious. “Just—shut up and eat your potatoes.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Harry muttered, but he slouched in his chair, sulking.

James cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to steer the conversation back to normal. "So, Mattheo, how are your studies going?" he asked, grabbing the bowl of mashed potatoes and passing it around the table.

"Going well, sir," Mattheo replied smoothly, flashing a charming smile. "I’ve been keeping up with everything, though Defense Against the Dark Arts has been particularly challenging this year."

Lily nodded approvingly. "That’s good to hear. It’s a tough subject, but an important one."

Harry groaned loudly, rolling his eyes as he stabbed at his plate with his fork. "Oh please, are we really going to pretend like he doesn’t know every dark spell already?"

"Harry!" Lily exclaimed again, glaring at him.

Mattheo raised his eyebrows but didn’t take the bait. "I wouldn’t say that, Potter. There’s always something new to learn."

You glared daggers at Harry, who looked like he was on the verge of saying something else, and you quickly kicked him under the table again. He winced but wisely kept quiet this time.

“So, Mattheo,” Lily, said brightly, her eyes twinkling with interest. “Tell us more about your family. I’m sure your parents are very proud of you.”

Harry let out a snort so loud it was impossible to ignore. You shot him a glare, kicking him under the table. He winced, but you caught the smug look on his face as he returned to aggressively stabbing his mashed potatoes.

Mattheo, however, didn’t even flinch. He flashed your mum a dazzling, polite smile. “Well, Mrs. Potter, my family is a bit complicated, but I assure you, they’re very supportive.”

“Very supportive of what, exactly?” Harry muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. “World domination?”

"So, Mattheo," Lily began sweetly, clearly trying to change the subject to something lighter. "Do you have any plans for after school?"

Mattheo smiled. "I’ve been considering a career in magical law enforcement, actually."

James grinned. "Now that’s a solid plan!"

Harry, unable to contain himself anymore, snorted loudly. "Magical law enforcement? Really? Are you going to arrest yourself?"

"Harry!" you snapped, kicking him harder this time, making him yelp in pain.

Mattheo leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed, still wearing that annoyingly confident smirk. "If I do, I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you, Potter."

James burst out laughing, while Lily shook her head with an amused smile. Harry, however, looked ready to explode.

You couldn’t help but sigh, rubbing your temples. "I swear, one more word and I’m kicking you out, Harry."

"Me?" Harry sputtered dramatically, looking at your parents for support. "Am I the only one seeing the obvious here?"

James shook his head, a grin plastered across his face. "You’re overreacting, son."

"I’m not!" Harry insisted, throwing his arms in the air.

You reached under the table and gave him one final, decisive kick. He yelped again, glaring at you. "Fine," he muttered, stabbing at his food. "I’ll be quiet."

"So, sir..." Mattheo started.

James raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Mattheo’s attempt to be on his best behavior. “James,” he corrected with a grin. “No need to be so formal. We’re all family here.”

“Of course, sir—uh, I mean, James,” Mattheo stammered, correcting himself with a sheepish smile. You tried not to giggle as he tried so hard to appear proper. Mattheo Riddle being proper was not something you ever thought you’d witness.

Harry groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Dad, you can’t be serious right now.”

Lily shot him a disapproving look, her voice firm but motherly. “Harry, stop being so rude. Mattheo’s our guest.”

Harry threw his hands up, exasperated. “Guest? He’s—” he gestured wildly at Mattheo, who was still smiling as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, “—MATTHEO RIDDLE!”

You could practically hear the capital letters in Harry’s dramatic outburst.

“Oh, Mattheo, would you like more mashed potatoes?” Lily interrupted cheerfully, holding out the bowl.

“I’d love some, thank you, ma’am,” Mattheo replied, his manners perfectly intact. He reached for the dish, giving Lily a charming smile, which she seemed to find delightful.

Harry nearly exploded on the spot. “Ma’am?! Mum, are you really falling for this?”

Lily gave Harry a stern look, her voice firm. “Harry James Potter, if you don’t stop, you can excuse yourself from the table.”

“But—”

“I mean it.”

Harry slumped in his chair, grumbling something incomprehensible while you bit back a laugh. You’d never seen him this riled up, and it was honestly hilarious.

“You invited him here!” Harry continued, voice getting higher and more strained. “How are you all okay with this?”

“Harry!” you snapped, kicking him harder under the table. “Shut up!”

“Ow!” Harry glared at you, rubbing his shin. “You keep kicking me!”

“And I’ll keep doing it until you stop acting like a child,” you hissed back, offering him a sickly sweet smile before turning to your parents, who were pretending like they didn’t hear anything. “Sorry about that. Everything’s fine.”

James chuckled under his breath, clearly amused by the chaos brewing between you and Harry. “This reminds me of the time Lily and I—”

“Dad, please,” Harry cut in, groaning in embarrassment. “Not now.”

Mattheo leaned over toward you and whispered, “You really need to keep him in check.” His lips curled into a grin, but it was the cocky tone that made you want to both laugh and shove him under the table.

You elbowed him in the ribs. “You’re not helping.”

He smirked, leaning back in his chair as if he were already winning. “Just saying, darling.”

“I’m warning you—”

“So, Harry,” Mattheo said casually, his voice full of innocence but his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Any exciting Quidditch matches coming up? Maybe I’ll come cheer you on.”

Harry’s fork clattered to his plate. He stared at Mattheo, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you—are you mocking me?”

Mattheo raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. “What? No, of course not. I’m just trying to be supportive. We’re family, after all.”

The sheer audacity left Harry speechless for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “You’re not family!” he eventually spluttered. “You’re—you’re—”

“Your sister’s boyfriend?” Mattheo finished smoothly, flashing a cheeky grin.

Harry’s face turned red. You were about to intervene, but Mattheo leaned toward you, his voice low. “He’s really easy to rile up.”

You smirked, elbowing him lightly. “That’s because you’re being impossible.”

He shot you a wink. “I thought that was part of my charm.”

Before Harry could combust, Lily clapped her hands together, clearly determined to keep the peace. “Well, it’s been such a lovely dinner, hasn’t it? We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

Harry groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Merlin, no.”

Ignoring your brother’s dramatics, you kicked Mattheo under the table this time, though a small smile played at your lips. “Behave.”

Mattheo grinned back at you, his smug expression not fading for a second. “Anything for you, love.”

Across the table, Harry made a sound of pure exasperation. "I can’t believe this is my life."

You couldn’t help but laugh. "Get used to it, Harry."

And honestly? You were okay with that.

thank you so much for the idea @dwvilchildd!!

#mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #harry potter #potter!reader #potters #potter family #ivy's soft scribbles ೀ

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everyonewooeverywhere · 1 year ago

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MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ fuckboy!mingi x party girl!reader (feat. best friends/roomates!woosan)

synopsis ✭ you like to party but that doesn’t mean you’re always down to fuck, so, when notorious fuck boy song mingi takes an interest in you, you’re certainly wary of him. but something about his insistence and willingness to go the extra mile is incredibly attractive. when they see you start to play into him, though, your best friends wooyoung and san do everything in their power to keep you away from him. so mingi has no choice but to fly under their radar.

content/genre ✭ smut MDNI 18+, fwb/situationship to ???, undefined relationship, secret relationship

word count ✭ 5.3k

warnings ✭ alcohol consumption (not during/before sex), protected sex, slight dirty talk, fingering, sex is pretty vanilla

✭✭✭✭

CHAPTER 1: SWEET TALKER

The scene was very familiar to you. A packed bar on a Friday night. A skimpy outfit that made you feel good. Loud music that shook through your body, lyrics drowned out by the heavy bass and mass of people. All of that on top of a drink in your hand paid for by a guy you knew full well you were not going home with. It was the recipe for a perfect night.

You certainly weren’t a stranger to a good party. And this one wasn’t any different from the others. The drink in your hand was free, paid for by the pretty stranger you were talking to. His name completely slipped your mind, but you didn’t really need to remember it because, moments after catching your eyes from across the bar, your friend slipped his arm over your shoulder.

When you looked up at him in mock surprise, he kissed your forehead. He turned to look at the guy you were talking to, one who was mildly surprised to find out you had a boyfriend.

Despite his surprise, though, he piped up anyway, “Can I help you? We were kinda talking here.”

Wooyoung shook his head and laughed, “I don’t really appreciate guys buying drinks for my girl and trying to hook up with her.”

“But–”

“We’ll be on our way actually,” Wooyoung cut off the nameless man, leading you away with his arm still around your shoulder.

It wasn’t until the two of you made it to the tall table where your friend San was standing that he dropped his arm from your shoulder.

Immediately, though, Wooyoung glared at you, “Was the drink worth it?”

“Honestly, not really,” you laughed, “His taste kinda sucked.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. You playfully nudged his arm with your elbow, “You’re just mad you can’t anyone to pay for your alcohol that isn’t San.”

“I only pay because he never stops whining,” he glared at your friend. “And it’s not like I’m gonna drink tonight either,” he said, taking a sip of the Coke in his hand.

“You don’t have to be the designated driver every weekend, San,” you told him, “Wooyoung knows how to drive, too.”

Wooyoung scoffed, “You bitch. You know how to drive. Why don’t you ever offer?”

“Because you are a gentleman, and you would never make me drive you home after a long night.”

“That’s some bullshit logic.”

You shrugged, “It works on San.”

“You know I don’t mind,” San chimed in, trying to break up this completely unnecessary argument.

You knew, but pushing Wooyoung’s buttons was always fun, especially when he was tipsy. Turning away from the table, scanning the bar. It was relatively early, only around ten, but the bar was packed with mostly students from your university. They hung around the bar and danced on the floor. It was a typical Friday night for a lot of students at your university. Since the bar was only half a mile from campus, you’d be hard-pressed to find a body in here who didn’t attend your school or know someone who did. Despite that, most of these people you had never seen before in your life.

Song Mingi was not one of those people.

Personally, you had only ever interacted with him in passing. Mostly with his friends. When they bought you a drink hoping you’d come back to their place. The majority of them had failed (in fact, only one of them had ever succeeded). But you knew his name at least, and you were pretty confident he knew yours.

He had never really tried. Probably because you had a reputation for rejections. Most guys, fortunately for your wallet, saw this as a challenge, and you were never gonna turn down free stuff.

From where he stood across the bar you could tell he was staring at you. Even with his stupid sunglasses on. He was staring at you with complete disregard for the fact that there was already a girl on his arm. You saw his eyebrows raise above the glasses as if he was greeting you without tipping off the girl with him. You rolled your eyes a looked back over at San who was sliding around the table to your side.

“He’s been watching you all night.”

“Really?” you titled your head, minorly intrigued. Maybe “minorly” was a lie because you could hardly ignore the butterflies in your stomach at knowing that fact.

“Y/n…”

You side-eyed him, “What?”

You knew “what.” Of course, you did. That much was obvious from the girl on his arm who he was pretending to pay attention to. Mingi went through girls like they were busy work. Checking them off like boxes and moving on to the next. As far as you know, he hadn’t had a girlfriend in your four years of attending the university, and you weren’t delusional enough to believe that the attention he was giving you was anything special.

As much as you despised a fuckboy, though, you would be a fool to deny that Song Mingi was the epitome of your type. Tall, dark hair, great style. Dressed in all black and adorned with carefully chosen silver jewelry. Sometimes you wondered why all the hottest guys you knew were the ones who were almost certainly never going to settle down. San would be the one to tell you to reassess your type, but listening to San was something you didn’t do very often (even though he was always right).

“I know you, and you do not want to mess around with him.”

“Correction, I don’t want to date him. I would very much like to mess around with him.”

San looked at you disapprovingly, “You and I both know that you don’t go home with guys because you know you’ll catch feelings for a one-night-stand. Tell me how the fuck you’re going to mess around with him and keep it purely casual.”

He was right, as per usual. You weren’t really the type to be able to separate romantic feelings from your sex life. God, you had surely tried, but each attempt had ended in disastrous heartbreak. And you had no reason to believe that this would be any different.

“One drink couldn’t hurt.” You were desperately trying to reason with him. Well, you were more trying to reason with yourself, but San was there to be of assistance.

“Ask him why the fuck he’s wearing sunglasses inside at night,” Wooyoung chimed in from behind you.

“Stop encouraging her.”

“Ok, dad,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes and took a sip of the Coke San had left on the table.

“It’s fine, Sannie, I’m not gonna fuck him. I’ll just talk to him, and maybe dance with him. That’s it. I’ll still come back here, and we’ll all go home together. Ok?”

Despite San’s major disapproval, you made your way back up to the bar. If he wanted you that bad, he’d come to you. You certainly weren’t going to make the first move here. If he wanted to get closer than just checking you out.

Inevitably, your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was Wooyoung, and he was letting you know that Mingi was making his way toward the bar.

In order to avoid another mediocre drink, you started ordering a drink for yourself. When the bartender asked for your card at the end of your order, you started digging around in your clutch. Mingi knew your game. He knew full well, as he approached you, that that clutch held absolutely nothing of monetary value. And he was right of course, you had brought it for the sole purpose of holding your phone and a tube of lip gloss.

“Go ahead and make two of those,” Mingi reached over your shoulder and handed the bartender his card.

You looked up at him, eyes wide, faking your surprise, “Oh! Thank you.”

“Of course, anything for a pretty girl who goes to bars without a wallet” he smiled down at you. Leaning against the bartop.

Laughing, you shrugged, “I don’t need to why pretty boys are willing to pay for my drinks.”

“So you knew I would pay before you even got up here?”

“Please, I could practically feel you staring at me all night,” that was fully a lie, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Couldn’t help myself. You look great it black,” He gestured to the minidress you wore. It was one of your favorites, so it felt good that he seemed to like it, too.

You grabbed at the jacket he was wearing, running your thumb over the fabric, “So do you.”

The bartender slid your drinks to you, and Mingi picked both of them up. His fingers brushed your own as he handed it to you.

The two of you chatted and flirted for the better part of an hour. The time honestly flew by. You looked over at your friends to see that some more people had gathered around their table. Great. That meant you had time. San chatting away with people meant he wasn’t ready to leave. And you wanted to dance with Mingi. So you for sure weren’t ready to leave. You looked out over the dance floor, it was still super lively. Just crowded enough for you to have fun.

When you set your empty glass down on the bar, Mingi grabbed your hand. He nodded toward the dance floor you were looking at so longingly, “You wanna dance?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “sure.”

✭✭✭✭

Dancing with Mingi was incredible. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the fact that he looked so fucking good under the low lights of the bar, but holy shit.

The rings on his hand dug into your waist where his hands were holding you against him. With your head leaned back against his chest, you could feel his breath on your neck. He groan slightly ever time you gripped his hair. It was such a subtle groan that you could only really feel it reverbrate of hiss body.

When he turned you around in his arms, you where quick to place yours over his shoulders, pushing your chest into his. He smirked down at you with both of his hands resting on the lowest part of your back, any lower and he fully would have been groping you.

You danced with him for an indecerable amount of time. You were sweating from the amount of bodies in the room, and you can tell Mingi is too from the sheen on his forehead.

Moving a hand from his shoulder you grabbed the sunglasses, his stupid fucking sunglasses, and lifted them up onto his head. Looking into his eyes for the first time, he winked at you. You laughed and rolled your eyes.

He pulled you closer to him, as if it were even possible. You tangled your hands in his hair as the two of you danced together. Communicating with nothing but body movements. Everything was hot, from the air in the room, to his hands on your back. You felt nothing but pure dopamine infused ecstasy.

Most of the time, the men who bought you drinks spent their time with you bragging about themselves and telling you how good you looked in whatever outfit you had opted for that night.

It was rare that you actually had fun with them. That was usually reserved for your friends.

Maybe it was the fact that you had already decided on not going home with him, though that decision was sounding more and more unappealing as the night went on, or maybe it was because you were dancing with a man who just knew how to have fun.

There were no thoughts in you head other than the utter giddiness you felt when his hands squeezed your waist or when his head dipped to your neck as he breathed something in your ear.

Nothing could take you out of this moment. Well maybe except your phone buzzing in your bag. You had felt it buzz around six times before you reached into your bag to see what it was.

Of course, as you suspected it might be, it was Wooyoung. Telling you that he was tired and wanted to go home. You huffed and thought about ignoring it when you saw San approaching you.

Quickly, and without much thought at all, you reached into Mingi’s back pocket. He looked a bit taken aback by the action. When you pulled out his phone, he looked down at you, intrigued.

“Open it,” you told him. He did what you asked, unlocking the device and handing it back to you. You were quick to type in your number with your name. Simple. No emojis. No petnames. He could change it up later if he really wanted.

By the time San had grabbed your shoulder, you had already given him his phone back. And that was it. You let San pull you away. Left him with nothing but your phone number. Not a kiss. Not a promise to meet up. Not a “call me” with a wink. Nothing.

You left him with the hope that, if he really wanted you, he would chase you. At least just a little bit.

✭✭✭✭

Mingi had really pulled through. He had texted you that next night. It was nothing special. He told you that he had had a good time. That he thought you were beautiful, and he’d love to see you again. You texted a bit through the week, too. Casually flirting with each other. Well, it was more of him flirting, and you responding calmly. A completely false persona, because every time he mentioned anything suggestive you were a total wreck. Kicking your feet, giggling with red ears.

Even when he texted you at work.

✭✭✭✭

Working the closing shift was always such a bore. Working until the late hours of the night, cleaning up messes that you had no part in making. It was the perfect storm for a less-than-perfect evening.

Having a friend to join you in that suffering, though, made it just a little more bearable. You had to beg your manager to keep scheduling you with San in the evenings, but it certainly paid off. The restaurant was small, so it was just the two of you at night. Left to your own devices to clean up and close down.

Being alone with him, though, unfortunately, gave him time to lecture you.

You’d just finished mopping the floors in the back kitchen when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You smiled a little when you saw who it was.

“Oh god,” you heard San grumble from where he was next to you, also mopping the floors.

You looked up at him, “what?”

“You know what,” he rolled his eyes, “are you actually talking to that douchebag?”

You shrugged, “it’s nothing serious. It’s all just fun.”

“Yeah, it’s all just fun until you actually start catching feelings for him, and then he dumps you like he has so many other girls.”

His words stung quite a bit, but mostly because you knew there was more than a small layer of truth to them. You knew this was far from the first time that Mingi had given a girl this much attention, but you’d be fully lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t like it. His sweet words and constant pet names were something you looked forward to every day.

Which is why you looked back down at your phone despite San’s obvious disapproval.

| mingi: you work at arriba’s right?

| you: uhh…yeah? who told that? and why?

| mingi: no one told me. ive just seen you there a lot

| mingi: and you said you were working tonight so i wanted to know if i could pick you up after your shift

| mingi: my roommate’s gone tonight. thought maybe we could watch a movie or whatever. we’ll have the place to ourselves

Holy shit. He was inviting you over. You’d only been talking to him for a week, but you were starting to wonder if texting back and forth was going to be the extent of this…thing…the two of you had going on.

| you: riiiight… watch a movie…

| mingi: we can do whatever you want baby

| mingi: i don’t give a shit about the movie. i just wanna see your pretty face

You glanced over at San, who was still vigorously mopping the floors in the kitchen. There’s no way you could have Mingi pick you up without him noticing. He was your ride home anyway. You didn’t want to lie to him either though. Which meant you’d have to face the humiliation of telling him you were going over to “watch movies” with the guy he was desperately trying to get you to avoid.

But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to see Mingi. And you’d be lying even more if you said you just wanted to watch a movie with him. You were trying so hard, though, to make him keep playing this game. To see how far he was willing to go. How much he was willing to chase you.

You couldn’t help it, though, that every time he texted you thought back to him dancing with you at the bar. His hands on your waist and your back. His lips brushed up against your ear. The strands of his dark hair between your fingers.

Noticing your silence, Mingi messaged you again:

| mingi: please baby? i really want to see you

| mingi: i’ll even pick up some takeout on my way to get you

| mingi: and i’ll drive you home tomorrow i promise

Tommorow? Well fuck. You really weren’t sure at first if he wanted you to spend the night, but that much was clear now. Sure, you probably wouldn’t get done at Arriba’s until midnight, but you thought maybe he’d just drive you home super late. But spending the night? Well, that just added a whole new level of intrigue.

| you: fine, i get off at 12. don’t be late

| mingi: wouldnt dream of it

San was still mildly upset at you as the night went on. Well, upset wasn’t really the word, he was more worried you were gonna get your heart broken which you assured him wouldn’t happen because there were no feelings really involved here. Hell, you hadn’t even met up outside the bar yet.

But San’s poor attitude made it significantly harder to bring up this evening’s plan.

“Hey, um,” you started, not looking at him as you wiped down the table in front of you, “I, uh, don’t need a ride home tonight.”

You glanced up to see that he’d stopped wiping down his table.

“Ok,” he responded, resuming his cleaning.

You cringed, that response was almost worse than a lecture, and you told him that.

He shrugged in response, “You’re an adult. I’m not going to tell you what to do. I can strongly advise you against certain things, but I’m not going to stop you,” he met your eyes, “If he makes you feel uncomfortable in any way, though, please call me, ok?”

You nodded.

“I won’t lecture you at all. I’ll just come get you.”

"Thank you, Sannie,"

✭✭✭✭

After counting down the cash and setting the alarm, you were both ready to go for the evening. You checked your phone for the time. 12:14. Below it, of course, was a message from Mingi:

| mingi: im here

[attachment: 1 image]

| mingi: and ive got food

You bid your friend farewell with a hug. When you stepped out into the parking lot, you saw Mingi leaning up against the hood of his car, food in hand. San’s eyes burned into the back of your head as you made your way over to him. Actually, you had more reason to believe he was staring at Mingi rather than at you.

He pushed himself off his car when he saw you coming. He held the food out to you, grinning.

“What’d you get?” you asked, taking the bag from him.

He shrugged, “Just some chicken. I wasn’t sure what you liked. There’s fries in there too, and I’ve got a Coke in the car if you want it.”

“Thank you.” “Not a problem, baby,” he glanced over your shoulder, “Although…is your friend gonna be alright? He won’t stop staring.”

The butterflies you got seeing him call you “baby” over text were nothing compared to the pure giddiness that came from hearing it out loud.

Of course, though, you had to remind yourself that you were far from the only girl whom he’d called “baby” with that voice you’d come to obsess over. This wasn’t about the use of a pet name, it was about how his voice really got you going. But just maybe you did enjoy him calling you “baby.”

“Don’t worry about him. He just doesn’t like you very much.”

“Oh, how refreshing,” Mingi rolled his eyes, but his smirk didn’t go unnoticed by you.

✭✭✭✭

After pulling his car into the parking lot and leading you up four flights of stairs (apparently, the elevator has been broken for months), you arrived at the door of Mingi’s apartment. He pulled the key from his pocket, unlocking the door and pushing it open. He turned around to usher you through the door.

“Here she is,” he mumbled.

You laughed a little, “You refer to your apartment as a ‘she.’”

He shrugged and laughed a little with you, not providing any explanation at all.

You took a glance around the apartment, other than the bedrooms, you could see the whole thing from where you stood in the doorway. It was small, but it definitely was an adequate living situation for two college students on a budget. You walked through the kitchen, setting the leftover food on his counter since you had eaten most of it on the drive here.

When Mingi disappeared into his bedroom, you froze just a bit. He’d seemed super casual over the phone. It was obvious that he definitely wanted to have sex with you but not at all like he’d try to force it out of you. You were kind of under the impression that the ball was in your court on that one. Maybe you had misread the situation.

Despite your confusion, you made a couple of steps toward his room only to see him emerge from the room moments later with some clothes in his.

“I figured you might want to change out of your work clothes,” he says, pushing the change of clothes into your arms. It was nothing special, a black tee and some gray basketball shorts. “If you want you can use the shower too. I cleaned it yesterday, too, so you don’t have to worry about anything.” He laughed, scratching the back of his head.

You were a little thrown off by his demeanor. Maybe the flirty Mingi you had previously been interacting with had an on-and-off switch, because, right now, he was just treating you like a friend who was crashing at his place for the evening. Not at all like the Mingi who you’d been talking to all week who was desperately trying to get into your pants.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I actually wouldn’t mind taking a shower.”

✭✭✭✭

After you had finished your shower and, mostly, dried your hair, you and Mingi sat together on the couch. His arm rested behind your shoulders as he scrolled through different shows on the TV.

Holy hell he smelt good. You couldn’t tell if it was just good hygiene or cologne or maybe even just fabric softener, but, nonetheless, you couldn’t help but breathe in and lean closer into his side. When he felt you lean closer, the arm around your shoulder pulled you in just a bit closer. You glanced up at his face which was still focused on the screen in front of you. Illuminated solely by the television screen and the faint light in the kitchen behind you. Your eyes traced his profile watching how his eyelashes fluttered and his tongue absentmindedly played with his lips. They looked soft. Really soft.

Forcing yourself to stop looking at his lips, halting the dirty thoughts that began clouding your mind, you looked back up at his eyes which were focused on the screen ahead of you. Light from the TV reflected off the glassy surface of his eyes. He truly was beautiful.

In all honesty, you felt yourself falling into dangerous territory here. Everything about this situation, him buying you dinner, letting you wear his clothes and use his shower, cuddling on his couch while his roommate was out of town. All of it screamed couple. Right? Why was he treating you like a girlfriend? You knew for a fact that wasn’t his angle here. Or at least you thought. God this was so frustrating. Why couldn’t you just relax and enjoy yourself in the arms of a beautiful man? This is why you never went home with guys. You would spend the entirety of your night micromanaging your thoughts and overanalyzing the situation.

Subconsciously, in the midst of your chronic overthinking, you had pulled away from Mingi just a little, but it was enough for him to notice and look down at you.

“You good?” he asked. Setting the remote down on the couch next to him.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. Maybe I should kiss him. You thought. That would make it clear what you wanted. Give him some indication. No that’s a terrible idea. And an impulsive one, too.

He found your speechlessness endearing. He laughed softly and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, brushing your jaw with his fingers and swiping his thumb softly across your cheek.

Well, fuck. You lost all restraint over yourself in that moment.

Holding his hand against your face with your own, you leaned into him and kissed him. He hummed into the kiss, smirking slightly as his moved with your own. His lips were just as soft as you imagined. Like velvet when they passed over yours. And fuck he tasted good, you could tell he had definitely freshened up while you were in the shower.

You sighed even further into the kiss when his hand moved down to your neck. Throwing one leg over his lap, you straddled his waist. He kissed you even harder now. Playfully biting your bottom lip. Pulling at it before kissing your chin. Then your jaw. Down your neck. All the way to your collarbone.

His hands dug into your hips much like they had when you had danced together the weekend prior. Your hands gripped his t-shirt. Failing to contain your anticipation.

“Baby,” he whispered, the depth of his voice shot straight to your core, “how far do you wanna take this?”

You whined, grateful he was defining boundaries but overwhelmed with the fact you had to tell him how you wanted it, “Please, Mingi.” You breathed out a heavy breath, “I need you.”

He smirked, his demeanor changed ever so slightly. Noted. You thought. He liked it when you begged. “Come on, baby. Tell me what you want.”

Burring your face in his neck and gripping his shirt tight, you rolled your hips. Grinding your core into him, “Mingi,” you moaned softly, “You’ll make me feel good, right?”

“Of course,” and apparently that was enough for him because, in the next moment, he pulled the shirt you were wearing over your head. Leaving your bare chest exposed to him.

He shifted you slightly. Motioning for you to lay back on the couch. You did, and he was quick to start kissing at your chest. His lips brushed over you collar bone. He kissed down your sternum and reached your belly button before coming back up to kiss your breasts.

You gripped his hair as he pulled a nipple into his mouth. Biting at it as he massaged the other one with his hand. He wasn’t wearing his rings right now, but you could only imagine how it would feel. The cold metal against your skin.

With his mouth occupied, you felt a hand slip under the waistband of your shorts and past your panties. You gasped, loudly, when he slid his finger through your folds. He hummed contently when you arched your back into him as he slid the finger into you. Adding another soon after you.

His thumb played with your clit. Slowly. You could tell he wasn’t trying to make you cum right now. He was doing his do-diligence and prepping you. You had no doubt that he could make you cum if he wanted to or else he wouldn’t be so popular with women. You had heard stories about nights with Mingi, and everyone was always overwhelmingly positive about his skills in bed.

Your eyes rolled back slightly when he slipped a third finger into you. Mouth open in a silent moan that came out as nothing more than a little whine, you threw back your head.

Shortly after though, he pulled his fingers out of you. He pulled off your shorts and panties together before ridding himself of his own pants and underwear too. Fuck, he was big. He smirked when he saw you looking, “You can take it. Right baby?”

You nodded breathlessly, “Mhm.”

When he hovered back over you, you gripped at his shirt. Trying to pull it over his head. He helped you out. Reaching behind his back to pull the tee over his head. You would have spent more time admiring his build but he was back to kissing you in an instant. His kisses made you so dizzy. You probably could have just kissed him for hours if you weren’t so undeniably horny.

You were so focused on his lips that you didn’t even notice when he’d slipped on a condom. You whined when he slid his length between your folds. He held down your hips when you started to roll them. Begging for something to touch your clit that was almost throbbing for attention.

“Don’t be so greedy, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

And that he did. The moment he slid into you, you lost all control of yourself. Your nails dug into his back as he thrust into you. Painfully slow at first.

“Please,” you begged, “faster…” You wrapped a leg around his waist, pulling him closer.

His thumb furiously rubbed at your clit as he thrust into you. Faster and deeper with every movement of his hips. You gripped at anything you could, his shoulders, his hair, his back.

You were so undeniably lost in your own pleasure. Your mind was foggy. All you could think about was this beautiful man, furiously fucking you, grunting in your ear, and breathing on your neck.

Even though you thought it was impossible, his thumb moved fasted on your clit. When he hit just the right angle you cried out, and he could feel you tighten around him.

“Oh?” he asked between pants, “Right there?”

“Fuck! Yes, right there!” your head lolled to the side as you felt your orgasm approaching. Your legs shook as they wrapped around his waist, holding him close. With one final movement of his thumb, you came around him. Your walls fluttered as you reached that incredible high. “Oh god!” You cried out.

“Shit,” he grunted, “I’m close, baby. Hold on.” With a couple more thrusts into your sensitive pussy, he came into the condom.

He fell forward on top of you. His arms or either side of your head held him up so he wasn’t crushing you. Your chests both heaved.

“Wow,” you said, breathlessly.

He laughed and kissed you softly, “Was it good?”

You nodded, “Great.”

When you looked into his eyes, his beautiful eyes, you momentarily forgot that you were not supposed to get your feelings wrapped up in this. Sirens rang in your head as he kissed you again, but, if he was gonna fuck you this good, you could ignore them for just a little longer.

✭✭✭✭

note ✭ ayyeeee it's done!! i honestly don't know how considering i have midtrems this week 😅 anyways, this has been in the drafts for about two months, and i'm glad i finally decided to start it!

if you enjoyed, please let me know! i absolutely LOVE hearing feedback whether it be through my inbox, comments or reblogs.

not sure when the next chapter will be released, but if you want to join the taglist you can lmk here or sign up here :)

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi series #song mingi x reader #everyonewooeverywhere #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ dj's work #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ smut #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ mingi

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captain-bubble-wrap · 29 days ago

Text

As the Canucks' newest rinkside reporter, you're preparing yourself for your first day on the job but things don't exactly start out the easiest. From calling in a favor from your father to interviewing the team's captain, it's bound to be a memorable night.

CW: none

9 October 2024 | Season Opener

Tonight marked the start of the Canucks' 2024-25 season and your introduction to the team's organization and fanbase. This was the biggest day of your career and you couldn't be any more nervous. You had done your makeup twice before leaving your apartment, changed your clothes half a dozen times, and frantically checked your hair in every mirror at least once. You had finally been given the chance to get your feet wet in professional broadcasting and you prayed you didn't fall on your face.

You knew any expectation of your abilities were going to be high just because of the fact that your father was the head coach of the team. Aware that there would be those whispers of favoritism and unfair handouts, you had tried to prepare yourself for such rumors and just wanted to let your work speak for itself. You were a Canucks' Top Prospect graduate and last year, you had reported rinkside for the Abbotsford Canucks as an intern, following college graduation, and it had been a wonderful opportunity. Now, you would find yourself among seasoned veterans and hoped not to feel like a child with numerous babysitters.

You had arrived at the arena around the same time as some of the players, just because if you didn't, you knew you would have found reason to pick another outfit or redo your eyeliner for the third time. Your heels clicked with an echo through the parking garage, your hair swished back and forth in the high ponytail atop your head with each step. You were confident, sure, but beneath that polished exterior was equally as much anxiety and panic.

"Badge?" Demanded the security guard from his post, not familiar with the new face standing before him. You produced the lanyard that was intertwined with your keys from your purse. Once it was in his possession he checked it against a series of papers. Nervousness began to set in within your chest when he didn't give it back quickly. The way he looked at you was like a bouncer checking a fake ID outside a club.

"I don't have you on the list," he replied sharply, handing back your fresh credentials. "No one with your name in Media."

"But I'm reporting tonight," you reassured, eyebrows pulled in from worry. "I was hired back in June."

The older gentleman, portly and with deep lines etched into his face scowled, "I can't let you in. You better call who ever it was who 'hired' you, because I'm not letting in anyone just because they claim to be Rick Tocchet's daughter. Nice try."

"I can show you my driver's licen--."

"Still no one with that name on the list. Now, step aside."

Absolutely taken aback by the rudeness and unbelievable news, you turned back towards where you had walked from and briefly saw two men, dressed in nice suits pass by you. Digging around the interior of your purse for your phone you'd hear the security guard call them by their first names.

"Connor. Quinn. Have a good game tonight, boys," he said to them, far more chipper than he had been with you just moments ago. You knew both players, hell, you knew all of the names on the Canucks' roster. That had been Connor Garland and Quinn Hughes who had breezed past. Too bad they couldn't vouch for you, now you were tasked with calling in a very poorly-time favour.

"Hey princess," said the voice on the other end of the phone once the call was finally picked up. "You alright?"

"No, dad, I'm not," you said, your voice low so to not let anyone overhear your conversation. "Security won't let me in, says I'm not on some media list. Not to mention he thinks I'm lying about who I am."

Your father sighed deeply. He was the last person you wanted to call and whine about someone being mean to you, especially hours before the first puck would drop. You had a job to do, and who better to pull some strings than him? However, it was the timing that was unfortunate.

"What gate are you at?" He asked, the frustration evident in his tone.

"I don't know. I'm at the players entrance or something. Connor and Quinn just went past me."

"Alright. Let me make a call. Sit tight."

"Thanks, dad."

He mumbled a "mhm" before the call dropped, leaving you loitering, hoping the guard didn't threaten to escort you off the grounds for being unauthorized personnel. What a way to start the night, the season, and your career. It wouldn't take long however before the ringing of a phone would echo throughout the garage. It had come from the security booth and you hoped it was someone calling on your behalf. Unable to stifle your curiosity, you looked towards the direction of the booth to see the man looking at you, nodding while he said nothing. He'd motion you over with a wave of his hand and you'd waste no time seeing what it was about.

"Apparently, your name wasn't added to the active media correspondents," he said flatly, hardly that of an apology. "You can go on in."

"Thank you," you sighed, making short work of the remainder of garage that opened up into the bowels of Rogers Arena. Finally, you were where you needed to be and it was already a mad house. Equipment managers were transporting rolling carts of towels and all manner of various odds and ends through the hallways and around tight corners. You had general directions of the media hub and you were thankful you had gotten there so early, because finding that specific room was like a treasure hunt. After probably twenty minutes of navigating the behind the scenes world of the arena, you arrived at the door.

"Oh, you must be Y|N Tocchet! So good to meet you! We're glad you made it," remarked Senior Writer Chris Faber, who was going over his notes when you came in. "We heard you'd be joining the team. Welcome."

"Thank you so much, I'm eager to get started!"

"We love the eagerness," he added, always happy to have young talent involved in the sport and pioneering for younger generations to follow. "Heard you made quite the name for yourself in Abbotsford last season."

"I loved it there! It was fun watching to see who had the hints of being a big talent develop down there. It was always loud," you smiled with a nod.

"I think you'll fit right in with us here. No doubt your father is proud," Chris said, with the smile himself.

"You'd have thought I had been drafted first overall!" You remarked, remembering how he had boasted when you got the call from upper management about the reporter position being given to you. "I have a high bar to strive for. Can't make him look bad, you know?"

Chris chuckled, reassuring you that you'd have no trouble transitioning into Vancouver's content team. "I'm sure you'll make him proud. Now, you have any questions for me?"

"Actually, I do. What is my schedule for tonight?"

"You're going to interview Quinn during warmups, get his opinion and insight on how the team preformed through the pre-season and his outlook and expectations for this season. Think you can handle that?"

"Absolutely," you beamed, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. It was actually happening; you had made it.

- - -

Warmups began to an overwhelming response around the arena. You walked down the tunnel following the team and were instructed to stand at the end of the bench. Quinn had already been told you meet you along the boards following a few hot laps. Watching the players at ice level really hit home that tonight was real. Nothing could beat the opening day of a hockey season. The energy was electrifying: from the fans screaming at the top of their lungs, player's fresh reactions to playing again, and shouted messages coming from the coaches. Opening night was just another beast entirely, and it marked the official start to the season and fans were eager to begin that grind and see their team back in the playoffs.

"Good luck, sweetheart," your dad would say as you passed in front of him and the other assistant coaches, a gentle smile across his lips. You'd give him a wink before getting to where you needed to be.

Your eyes zeroed in on Quinn's number forty-three as he practically floated across the ice, edges sharp and skating so fluidly. You had watched him since his debut with the team, and he was seriously one of the most beautiful skaters in the game right now. Your cameraman went over the key points of your short interview and you would give a quick nod in agreeance.

"You're going to do great! Don't worry!" He said to hype you up, and give you the confidence boost you needed to calm your nerves.

It didn't take long for Quinn to finally make his way over to you. He didn't do an aggressive hockey stop, not that you thought him the type to do so, instead he sort of just listed to the two of you, looking eager to already have it over and done with. You had watched numerous other girls before you have the chance to interview the star captain, and each time he just came off like he wasn't comfortable doing the interview aspect of his job. You hoped you'd make it easy on him so he could get back to warming up, and so you could get your heart back to a regular speed.

The cameraman, again, would give you a nod, checking his equipment before giving you the signal to begin your conversation with Quinn. His eyes were down, gloved hand holding his stick upright like he was at attention. It would be after you greeted him that he would finally bring his eyes to your face, actually seeing you for the first time.

"Welcome to the start of the new season, Quinn," you said brightly, smile beaming.

He swallowed hard, almost like he had forgotten how to speak, "Thank you."

"You're fresh off of winning the Norris, congratulations! Do you have a plan for trying for a back-to-back award winning season, or is that not really a concern for you? Sort of a, 'if it happens it happens' type of thing?"

"Really just focused on making sure we can win as many games as possible is the main objective, right now. We're hopeful to have a repeat trip to the playoffs first. Anything extra is just that: it's extra."

Quinn dropped his eyes from you while you spoke your next question. He seemed so disinterested and you were hoping that you weren't a bumbling idiot on camera.

"How confident are you in your team following camp and how the pre-season faired?"

"I think we put everything we have into how we practice at any given time. It's nice getting together with the guys again, and feel that brotherhood reconnect even in practice. I think we're all in a good headspace at the moment."

"Finally, what can fans expect from this year's Canucks lineup?"

"I think we're a solid group of players who bring a multitude of strengths to the ice, and we're prepared to bring that night after night all season long."

"Wonderful! Thank you so much, and good luck."

Quinn nodded at your parting words. "Thanks."

As he skated off, you faced the camera for your sign off, "Tonight marks a fresh start for this Canucks' team, and fans can believe that they're in for a strong season."

Holding your smile until given the signal that the recording had ended, you'd breath a deep sigh of relief immediately after. Your palms were slick with sweat and your heart was beating in your ears, but you had done it!

"See, I knew you had it in you! That was fantastic for your first NHL interview!" Remarked your cameraman, picking up his tripod and laying it against his shoulder. "Great job!"

"I was so nervous," you laughed.

"It didn't show! Congratulations."

You smiled, and went to follow him from the bench, but before you got too far from the boards, you heard someone calling out to you from the ice. Looking over your shoulder, you'd see Quinn skating back to you.

"Good luck on your first game," he said, a warmup puck in the palm of his glove. You'd reach for it, shocked by the kind gesture that hadn't crossed your deepest daydreams.

"Aw, thank you so much," you blushed, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks. Quinn would smirk, his eyes dropping from your face yet again before he rejoined his teammates following the end of the warmup sequence. Quickly, you'd make your exit, not wanting to linger where you didn't belong for a second time today. But passing behind your father, he'd give you a quick hug at your accomplishment.

"You're a natural," he whispered. "You did so well."

"Thanks dad!" you said, heart swelling. "Good luck tonight~"

- - -

The game had come to a heartbreaking end for home fans when the Flames had managed to score a goal in overtime. A collective sigh of defeat hung over the interior of the arena which followed everyone out with disappointment and broken spirits. Everyone had hoped for more; had hoped for a win in regulation to start the season, not a participation point for losing in OT. Regardless, a single point was better than none.

You said goodbye to your new colleagues, and started to make your way back to the parking garage. Your dad would be busy going over things with the players as well as post-game interviews, so waiting for him would be a complete waste of time. All you really had to do was head back home.

It had been an exciting day, one that had both fried your nerves and catapulted your confidence. Your interview with Quinn had turned out quite smooth and polished, when you watched the playback. You found yourself looking at Quinn the entire time, noticing him stealing looks at you that you hadn't realized before when you were interviewing him. How had you missed that? His eyes blinking up at you, those gentle nods to each of your questions, the one subtle smirk he'd let slip at you telling him good luck at the end. You had blushed watching it, like you had when he gave you the puck souvenir to mark the start of your career within the organization. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you. It had just been a puck; your father likely would have done the same thing if Quinn hadn't beaten him to it.

The question would plague your mind the entire drive home.

Even when you went to bed, your mind kept replaying Quinn smiling as he skated away from you the second time. The puck sitting on your nightstand would cause quite the dream that night.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fic #hockey fic #hockey fanfiction #💌maven's love notes

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mylovesstuffs · 2 months ago

Text

OT13 reactions to getting drunken, flirty texts from their s/o

Request: Hi lovey! I hope you had a good NYE! :) I was wondering if you could and are willing to do OT13 reactions to getting drunken, flirty texts from the reader during a girl's night out? Thank you so much! :)

A/N: Text reactions take a little bit of time for me to do because of the format I chose. But nevertheless it's fun to do.

Content: Suggestive in some members (Joshua, Jun, Wonwoo, Minghao and Dino) MDNI!, reader is under the influence of alcohol.

Seungcheol

Your Text: "Babeee, you’re so strong and hawtt… bet you could carruyyY me home rn, np 😘"

His Reaction: As soon as his phone buzzes and he reads the text, he lets out a low chuckle. Sure, he’s worried about you being out drinking, but your audacity? He loves it. Cheol is all about being the protective boyfriend, so this is right up his alley. He’s grinning like an idiot at your boldness.

“I could carry you home, but you’d have to behave. You sure you want me to pick you up?”

He’s already grabbing his keys to come get you because noway protective!cheol will let you take a cab home yourself.

“Are you okay? Where are you exactly?"

He shows up at the bar, his broad shoulders filling the doorway as he scans the room for you. When he finds you, he slips his jacket over your shoulders with a teasing grin shielding you from the night air. “Come on, let’s see if I’m as strong as you think I am.” He bundles you into his car, reassuring you the whole way home. Once you're back, he tucks you into bed, kissing your forehead with a soft, We’ll talk in the morning. Sleep tight, babe. But you can see the way his eyes linger on you—there’s no mistaking how much he loves you, even if he’s all business tonight. And yes, he absolutely does pick you up bridal-style once you’re sober, just to prove a point.

Jeonghan

Your Text: "Hannieeee, you’re the preTtiest boy I’ve ever seen, like an angel 😍 but you already knew that, ruightttt???"

His Reaction: Jeonghan reads your message, smirks, and shakes his head at your drunken honesty. Smug. So smug. Oh, he knew he was pretty, but hearing it from you makes his chest puff with pride. He’s chuckling at his phone, probably lounging somewhere with his hair perfectly styled because that’s just Jeonghan.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you? Go on… tell me more about how perfect I am.”

“but first, send me your location before you start serenading strangers.”

He’ll milk this for all it’s worth. He calls you, and when you answer, your voice slightly slurred, he teases, “Should I start charging for these compliments? Or is this my payment for being the best boyfriend ever?” Despite his teasing, Jeonghan makes sure someone trusted is keeping an eye on you. If it’s late, he’ll call one of the other members closer to your location to pick you up, but if not, he’ll show up himself, effortlessly charming everyone in the room as he coaxes you to leave with him. "Come on, angel. Let’s get you home." Once home, he lounges beside you, running a hand through your hair and grinning. "You really think I’m the prettiest, huh? Remind me when you’re sober." But he makes sure you’re comfortable, and so he gets a little softer, telling you how cute you are when you’re drunk.

Joshua

Your Text: " Hey Josh, you have nO idea how much I wanna kiss you right now… but you probably wouldn’t let me because you’re TOO FCdtxtTYC much of a gentleman :")"

His Reaction: Joshua reads the text, and his cheeks immediately flush. Blushing. Full-on blushing because your text caught him off guard, but he low-key loves it. His lips curve into a shy smile as as he pushes his hair back in embarrassment. He’s both flustered and endeared because you know he’s a gentleman, but he’s still a man, and that text definitely stirred something as there’s a smirk playing at his lips as he responds.

“Who said I wouldn’t let you?”

Gentle yet flirtatious because he’s smooth like that. He calls you, his voice soft. "Where are you? Stay put; I’m coming to get you." He FaceTimes you and laughs at how flustered you get when you see him. He’ll stay on the call till he's there, subtly flirting the whole time but will make sure you're drinking enough water. When he arrives, he’s the picture of calm as he helps you into his car, checking to make sure you’re comfortable. But once you’re home, and you pull him close with those drunken confessions, his restraint wavers. "You wanted a kiss, right?" He leans in slowly, teasing you with his gentlemanly charm, before pulling back with a sly grin.

"Tomorrow, sweetheart. When you’re sober." JOSHUA HONG THE MAN YOU ARE!!!

Jun

Your Text: "Junnie, you’re too hot. It’s UNFAIR. Like, STAWP being so perfect, okay? Or don’t. I love it."

His Reaction: Jun is sprawled out on the couch when your text comes through, and he nearly chokes on his drink. Too hot? he mutters to himself with a smug grin. Oh, he’s loving this. Jun is confident but doesn’t always hear things like this from you, so he’s absolutely soaking it up.

“Should I stop? Or do you want more perfection coming your way? 😌”

He doesn’t hesitate to video call you, his teasing smirk on full display as he checks on you. "You’re too cute when you’re drunk. Where are you? I’m coming over." When he gets you home, he doesn’t hold back. After making sure you’re okay, he pins you gently against the doorframe with a playful smirk. "You said I’m too hot, right? Let’s test that theory." Things get steamy quickly, but he’s careful to take it slow, making sure you’re comfortable the whole time. The next day, he’ll casually bring it up, just to watch you squirm.

Hoshi

Your Text: "Horanghae! 🐯 YOU’RE THE BEST BOYFRIEND EVER. Wannanana dance with me like right now?"

His Reaction: Heart eyes activated. His entire face lights up when he sees your text. He’s practically bouncing in place because 1) you’re thinking of him, and 2) you’re drunk-texting him about dancing. This is his dream scenario.

“Where are you?! I'll be there in five!”

When he shows up, he’s immediately pulling you into a spin on the dance floor, completely unbothered by anyone else around. Once he gets you home, his energy mellows slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he murmurs, "Let’s dance in the living room tomorrow, okay?" before kissing you softly and tucking you into bed.

Wonwoo

Your Text: "Why are you so handsome??? Like, stopppp. I can’t focus when you’re this perfecrtt. 😩"

His Reaction: Wonwoo’s lips twitch into a small smile as he reads your text. He’s flustered, but he won’t let it show. Instead, he texts back something short and teasing.

“You’re blaming me for your distraction now?”

“But… thank you. You’re not bad yourself ;).”

He calls to make sure you’re okay, his voice calm but warm. "Do you need me to come get you? Or can I trust you to get home safely?" When you insist you’re fine, he doesn’t push, but the next morning, he shows up with breakfast and a shy grin. "Still think I’m perfect?" He’s teasing, but the way he lingers close to you says he’s already planning to do something about it later...

Woozi

Your Text: "Jihoon, I swear you’re the most talented, sexiest mAn alive. ANd I’m not just saying that becauseeee I’ve had a drink… or two… or three."

His Reaction: Woozi’s first reaction is to roll his eyes, but there’s a deep blush creeping up his neck. Blushing, sighing, but smiling all at once. Woozi isn’t used to being called sexy, and he’s low-key short-circuiting.

“Are you okay? Should I be worried about how much you’re drinking?”

“Or how much you’re embarrassing yourself?”

“Where are you? I’ll come get you."

He shows up looking unimpressed but can’t hide the tiny smirk tugging at his lips. When he finds you giggling and wobbling slightly, he sighs dramatically but takes your hand, guiding you to his car. At home, you keep reaching for his face, mumbling about how soft his cheeks look. He finally gives in and lets you poke them for a second before pulling away with a grumble. "That’s enough. Go to sleep." The next day, you wake up to a glass of water and a note on your bedside table: "Thanks for the compliment. Don’t drink so much next time."

Dokyeom

Your Text: "Seokminnie, you’re like the sun. So warm, so bright, so… KISSABLE. ☀️ I don’t know if I want to marry you or just stAare at you forever. Probably both :("

His Reaction: Seokmin’s face instantly turns red, and he lets out a loud, slightly nervous laugh. He’s grinning so hard his cheeks hurt because, drunk or not, the fact that you’re thinking about him makes him all giddy that he has to put his phone down.

“Kissable? Babe, you’re drunk, but I love you.”

“Want me to come and pick you up?”

“Nvm stay right where you are! I’m on my way to rescue my tipsy sunshine”

When he arrives, he’s all smiles, immediately making you laugh with his dramatic ‘knight in shining armor’ entrance. He carries you to the car, peppering you with lighthearted jokes to keep you awake. At home, your drunken praise doesn’t stop. "You’re so handsome, Kyeom. It’s unfair." He blushes and tries to brush it off, but when you grab his face and tell him you’re serious, he melts. "You’re the sweetest," he whispers, tucking you into bed. "But let’s save the marriage talk for when you’re sober." The next morning, he’s ready with breakfast and a teasing smile. "So… still want to stare at me forever?"

Mingyu

Your Text: "BabBbyyyyY, you’re not real. Like, there’s nooo waayyyay someone this hawt and sweet exists. Did I dream you up?"

His Reaction: Mingyu freezes mid-bite of whatever snack he’s eating, rereading your text about ten times just to make sure he’s not dreaming and the next moment, he’s giggling like a schoolboy.

“If I’m a dream, I hope you never wake up. 😉” (MINGYUUUU WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOUR??!!?!?)

“ What are you going to do about it?”

Smooth! He’s on the phone with you in seconds, his voice warm and playful. "Stay where you are, baby. I’m coming to get you." Mingyu grabs his keys and is out the door faster than you’d expect. When he arrives, he finds you giggling and leaning on a bar counter. Without a word, he sweeps you into his arms, cradling you protectively.

"You’re adorable, but no more drinks for you tonight."

Once home, he sets you down gently, but your flirtatious behavior doesn’t stop. You tug at his shirt, still slurring about how perfect he is, and he’s torn between laughing and melting. He kisses your forehead, whispering, "I’m a gentleman so, let’s get you to bed."

Minghao

Your Text: "Hao, teach me how to be as cooll as you. Or better yet… Just Come Make Out With Me."

His Reaction: He raises an eyebrow at his phone, amused but not surprised. He knows you admire him, but the flirty tone has him chuckling under his breath. He lovessss your bold side, even if it’s fueled by alcohol.

“Being cool is easy. Step 1: Date me.”

“Step 2: …Actually, that’s it.”

Deadpan but effective. He debates leaving you to your antics, but the protective boyfriend in him wins. When he shows up, he’s calm and collected, helping you into his car, "You need to be careful, love. Not everyone’s as cool as me." When you’re home, though, your tipsy request comes back to haunt him. You’re tugging him closer, eyes sparkling with mischief, and he loses his usual control. He cups your face, whispering, "You’re trouble, do you know that?" before pulling you into a deep kiss. But he stops there, refusing to let things escalate until you’re sober.

Seungkwan

Your Text: "Kwan-ah, you’re my fAvorzIite person in the world. Wanna know why? Because you’re perfect and I love you. 💕"

His Reaction: Cue dramatic gasping and holding his chest like he’s just been hit with Cupid’s arrow. But then, the worry kicks in. Are you safe? Who’s with you?

“Stop it, you’re gonna make me cry! But…”

“Where are you right now? I’m calling an Uber for you."

He doesn’t care if it’s late; he’s staying up until he knows you’re home safe. He even sends voice notes, half-scolding you and half-gushing over how cute you are. When you finally get home, he’s waiting on FaceTime to have a talk with you.

Vernon

Your Text: "Hansol, I’m tipsy, but I have to tell you… you’re the coolest, most handsome guy I know. Don’t let it go to your head, though..."

His Reaction: He blinks at his phone chuckling softly, probably shaking his head because this is such a you thing to do. He’s flattered, of course, but he’s also worried about how much you’ve had to drink.

“Coolest? Handsome? You sure you’re not confusing me with someone else? Stay put. I’ll call someone to get you.”

Vernon enlists the help of a trusted friend to make sure you’re okay. When you get home, he’s on the phone with you, his voice calm and steady. “You’re cute when you’re drunk. Not that I’d know or anything…”

The next morning, he teases you mercilessly but makes sure you’re hydrated and feeling okay.

Dino

Your Text: "Chan, you’re so build up now…too build up, actually. It’s UNFAIRr how attractivce u r."

His Reaction: Chan stares at his phone, his face heating up as your words sink in. Build up? Unfair? He’s both flustered and smug.

“You’re really saying this to me right now?”

“Stop testing my patience. Stay where you are. I’m coming.”

When he arrives, he’s a mix of concerned and amused. "You’ve got a lot to say tonight, hm?" He helps you into his car, keeping things light, but once you’re home, your teasing continues. He tries to brush it off, but when you lean in closer, telling him how attractive he is, he cracks. "You’re impossible," he mutters, pulling you into a passionate kiss. Things get heated, but he stops himself before going too far. "We’ll finish this conversation in the morning, when you’re sober."

And the next day? He’s waiting for you with a mischievous grin. Let’s just say your morning didn't just end with just cuddling...

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