summary: Mingi has no problem reminding everyone—especially his omega—that you belong to him.
w.c: 3.8k
warnings: mingi’s a bit feral uwu, dom! mingi, sub! reader (she puts on a bratty act for two seconds but that’s it lol), uhhh let’s seeeee,, praise/pet names only <3, dirty talk, possessiveness/ownership, kissing, spit kink, manhandling, size kink, olfactophilia/scenting, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, doggy style + missionary, creampie, knotting, breeding kink, i think that’s it?! owo
a/n: listen i’m a simple woman……… and that roar mv did something irreversible to me 🚬 i’ve never needed song mingi so bad in my goddamn life. FUCK. :$$/!:!.!!/‘/ ugh anywaysss i hope you enjoyyy xx
song rec: roar - song mingi (ofccc) , till the wheels fall off - cxloe
Running an underground gang took every ounce of time and discipline Mingi had. Power meant control, and control meant staying on top. It was something the young alpha had been born to do. His presence dominated every room he stepped into, a force of nature that made even seasoned fighters lower their eyes. You’d always felt safe under that shadow, shielded by his name and his scent.
But lately, safety wasn’t enough. With Mingi buried in meetings and deals, you were left watching from the sidelines, craving a look, a touch, a flicker of the wolfish hunger he usually saved for you. Tonight, at the crowded party his crew had thrown, you’d dressed a little bolder, moved a little closer, brushed his arm, whispered in his ear. You’d do anything to pull his eyes back to you.
But Mingi was lost in the chaos of his friends, laughing too loudly, downing drink after drink, slapping shoulders, and leaning into the rowdy energy of the room. Every time you tried to catch his gaze, he was already distracted, already moving to the next joke, the next challenge, the next toast. Your fingers itched for him, your pulse quickened, and frustration coiled low in your stomach. He was right there—so close you could feel the heat radiating off him—but completely out of reach.
When nothing seemed to work, desperation crept in. The music pounded, bodies moved, and before you realised it you were pressed against someone else on the dance floor, swaying to the bass, heat curling low in your stomach. A stranger’s hands slid over your hips, bold and curious, and when you didn’t pull away he leaned down to murmur something you didn’t care to listen to in your ear, his breath hot against your neck.
Across the room, Mingi’s laughter died mid-sentence. His eyes found you through the shifting lights, amber darkening to something dangerous. He stayed where he was at first, jaw tight, a glass cradled loosely in one hand. But his focus never left you. Every sway of your hips, every flick of the stranger’s fingers on your waist, every tilt of your head that exposed more of your throat—he catalogued it like a hunter sighting prey.
The music roared and you tipped your head back, letting the stranger’s mouth brush your skin. You felt the sting of teeth at your neck, a playful scrape that sent a thrill through you. And still, from the far edge of the crowd, Mingi didn’t move. He just watched, wolf-still, eyes glinting as the neon washed over him. You could almost feel the pull of his attention like claws dragging across your back.
Somewhere in the haze of bass and heat, you knew he was moving. The crowd shifted without you noticing; glances flickered your way and then away again. Mingi was stalking closer, silent, his scent threading through the alcohol and sweat like smoke. The air grew heavier, warmer, your pulse matching the beat of the song and the thud of his steps.
You had wanted his attention. Now you had it.
The crowd parted a little at a time, like a tide pushed back by something heavier. Even the stranger at your back glanced up, scent turning wary, hands sliding off your hips as if he’d been burned. A ripple of unease moved through the dance floor, and then Mingi was there— taller, broader, radiating heat like a furnace.
He didn’t grab you right away. He stepped into your space and let his presence do the work, his bare chest rising and falling, scent rolling off him in waves of alpha musk. It drowned out the alcohol and sweat, coiling around you, making your knees soften and your stomach flip. Every instinct you had as an omega screamed at you to pay attention.
Before you could retreat, he moved again. One single step that backed you against the wall at the edge of the room. His hands slammed to either side of your head, palms flat on the concrete, boxing you in without touching you. The music and chatter faded to a low hum behind him. Up close, he was overwhelming: shoulders blocking the flickering lights, eyes molten, pupils blown.
His scent spiked with irritation and want, a cocktail of cedar and smoke and something animal. “Is this what you wanted?” he asked, voice low, rougher than usual. His breath brushed your cheek, and you caught the faint tremor of restraint in his arms.
Your chin tipped up automatically, throat exposed. The omega part of you fluttered, caught between fear and heat. “You didn’t seem to want me before,” you murmured, defiant despite the way your pulse betrayed you.
Mingi’s jaw flexed. He dipped his head until his nose nearly brushed your hairline, inhaling sharply. “I’ve been busy,” he growled, “not blind.” His body caged yours without touching, every inch of him promising that his patience was gone. The scent between you turned thicker, hotter, your own arousal rising in the back of your throat.
You reached up to caress his cheek, his long, frayed hair brushing the edges of your fingers. “Too busy to show me who I belong to?”
His mouth crashed down on yours, all teeth and heat, nothing of his usual composure left. The kiss was feral and sloppy, tasting of whiskey and salt and the low growl rising from his chest. His hands finally left the wall, one burying in your hair, the other locking at the small of your back to drag you tight against him. You felt the tremor of his restraint give way; his scent was everywhere now, heavy, claiming, flooding your senses until there was nothing but Mingi.
Around you the room went very quiet. You knew there were still people there; you could hear the music, feel eyes on you. Despite it all, Mingi’s body filled your vision, his shoulders blocking everything else, his heat and size making the world shrink to a cage of alpha and omega. His lips trailed down to your jaw, then your throat, a scrape of teeth against sensitive skin that left your knees weak.
He pressed you harder into the wall, nose at your pulse point, voice a low rumble that only you could hear. “Mine,” he muttered, the word a claim as much as a warning. His hips shifted just enough for you to feel his intent, even through clothes, leaving no question about what would happen if you didn’t stop him.
And then, without breaking eye contact, he moved, guiding you away from the main floor, deeper into the shadowed edge of the room where the lights flickered and the crowd dared not follow. His hand slid down to lace your fingers, firm and sure, scent and heat pulling you after him. The last thing you saw over his shoulder was the wide-eyed look of the man you’d been dancing with retreating into the crowd.
The moment the door clicked shut behind you, the throb of the music dulled to a muffled pulse. The room was small, dim, and smelled faintly of leather and smoke, but mostly of him. Mingi’s scent was everywhere now, thick and wild, crawling up your spine like heat.
He didn’t give you time to adjust. His back hit the door with a dull thud as he shoved it closed, then he spun you around and pinned you to it, palms flattening on either side of your head again. His body loomed, chest rising fast, eyes blown wide until the gold of his irises almost disappeared. Every inch of him vibrated with restraint and hunger.
“Mine,” he growled, voice low enough to make your stomach twist. The word rumbled against your throat where his mouth pressed next, tasting you, scenting you, dragging his teeth lightly over the skin until you trembled.
You reached for him, fingers sliding into his shaggy hair, gently tugging at it. He hissed a breath between his teeth and pressed his hips against yours, his heavy erection nudging into your stomach through his low hanging pants. The room tilted under the heat; you could feel your own scent spike, sweet and open, answering his.
“Mingi…” you breathed, barely able to speak.
“Y/N,” he answered back octaves lower, his voice like gravel.
Mingi’s hands slid down, rough palms tracing your sides until they gripped your hips. He pulled you off the door and into him, so close that your feet left the ground for a second. His nose found the crook of your neck, inhaling deep, a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan spilling from his chest. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he muttered, the words hot against your skin.
Your breath hitched. “Show me,” you whispered back, defiant and needy.
His answering smile was wolfish. One hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back to claim your mouth again in a kiss that was all tongue and teeth, wet and messy, as if he meant to devour you. You wouldn’t have cared if he did. The other slid lower, his thick fingers rubbing over your hot cunt through your jeans—gripping, guiding, possessive, leaving no doubt of his intent. The scent between you turned almost dizzying, a heady mix of cedar and heat and something uniquely yours.
He broke the kiss just long enough to drag his forehead against yours, eyes dark and intent. “You’re going to remember who you belong to,” he said, voice ragged.
The rest was a blur of heat and hands and breath: clothes pushed aside, skin bared to air heavy with his scent, his body pressing you down into the bed in the corner of the room, his mouth finding every patch of exposed skin, claiming you in ways that left no question. The world outside dissolved into muffled bass and distant voices; here there was only Mingi, your own answering heat, and the inevitable crash of what you’d been teasing all night.
“I can’t take it anymore, Mingi,” you suddenly gasped into his neck, grabbing at his hips. “I need more. Need you.”
Mingi tsked. “Baby’s so impatient…”
With a low growl, Mingi hooked his hands under your thighs and hauled you higher onto the edge of the mattress, dragging you into the space between his knees as if you weighed nothing. The movement was rough but careful, the kind of strength that could crush but chose not to. He spread you open with his rough palms, thumbs stroking slow circles into your skin while his gaze roamed over you, dark and hungry.
“Look at you,” he rasped, voice dripping with arousal, “still acting like you don’t know what an alpha does to an omega who teases him.” His long hair fell forward as he bent down, breath hot against the inside of your thigh. He nipped lightly at your skin, not enough to hurt, just enough to make you twitch. He could see how wet you already were, your flushed cunt glistening even in the low light of the room.
A soft laugh vibrated against your flesh. “Already soaked, I see,” he muttered, wolfish and amused. “But you can’t help it, can you, baby?” His fingers squeezed roughly into your thighs. “Not when your body is made for me…”
You arched into the mattress, letting out a breathless sigh just from his words alone. “Just for you, Mingi…”
Giving you a lazy smirk, Mingi manhandled you a little more, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder until you were tilted exactly how he wanted, pinned by his hands and his scent. Every inhale from him was deep, dragging in your heat like it was the only air he needed. Then he dipped his head lower, mouth and nose pressing into your pulsing cunt, inhaling again with a low, satisfied sound.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, voice a rumble against your skin, lips brushing over your pussy without quite touching, his tongue flicking out once, a deliberate tease. “Should I make you beg?”
“M-Mingi, please…I’ll do anything,” you promised him, your bratty act melting away like it never existed. You’d only used it to draw his attention, and now that you had it, there was nothing you wouldn’t give him. Every instinct, even ounce of yourself, it was his, if it meant that he would claim you for himself.
“That’s my omega…” The next sound out of him was a growl, and then his mouth finally sealed onto your heat. It was impossibly warm, wet, insistent—his tongue moving against your cunt with slow, deliberate strokes that made your hips jump despite his iron grip. His hands held you still, fingers digging into your thighs to keep you right where he wanted you while his mouth worked you over like he was devouring something he’d hunted down.
You squirmed from the pleasure, thighs instinctively trying to clamp down around him, and he hissed against your skin, low and amused. One swift movement later, he’d hooked you up almost entirely, lifting you so your weight pressed against him in a perfect, impossible arch. Your legs draped over his shoulders and down his back, and the shiver that ran through you made him growl deep in his chest.
His hands abandoned your hips for a moment, sliding instead to cup and tease your tits, rough and claiming, just to draw a gasp from your lips. “Always so eager to fight me—can’t even stay still for your alpha,” he murmured against you, lips brushing along your sensitive skin, “But, I know you too well. You want me to have my way with you.”
A warm blush spread across your cheeks, and you tilted your head slightly. “I’m yours to take, Alpha.”
Mingi chuckled softly, nuzzling his cheek against your inner thigh, voice low and teasing. “That’s a good girl…”
You arched into him instinctively, hands clutching at his hair, nails grazing his shoulders as he continued to ravage you. Every inhale pulled in his sharp, intoxicating scent and you moaned, breath catching, your body melting into the delicious tension of being entirely at his mercy.
Mingi didn’t stay in one place for long. His hands alternated, sliding over your tits, teasing and pinching your sensitive nipples until they were stiff against his calloused fingers, before drifting down your stomach and hips, mapping every curve as if memorizing it. Every touch left a trail of heat in its wake, making your body tremble.
“You feel so perfect,” he murmured, voice low and rough, lips grazing your skin as he nipped lightly, “every inch is mine to claim.”
Then he shifted, dipping lower, warm breath brushing over your thighs as he pushed his wide tongue inside your tight cunt, pushing it in and out until he left you gasping and bucking toward him. Soon, his tongue was replaced with two thick fingers, stretching you open, his tongue now busy flicking and tracing your throbbing clit, his attention to your body precise and demanding. Every little movement made your knees quake, your hands tangling deeper in his hair.
“Always so wet for me, aren’t you?” he growled, lifting his gaze to yours, amber eyes dark and glinting. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much you’ve been craving me all night.”
Your breaths came in ragged gasps, voice trembling. “Y-yes, Alpha… I need you…”
Slipping another digit inside, he pounded them into you until the obscenely wet sounds your cunt made were louder than the moans falling from your parted lips, coaxing you to the edge. A low, feral hum vibrated from Mingi’s chest as he leaned closer, using his free hand to rub relentlessly at your clit, alternating between his thumb and forefinger. He watched intently as your body betrayed you in real time, arousal spilling down his forearm, every one of your nerves on fire.
“Let go for me, baby,” he rasped against you, lips brushing over the skin of your thigh, “Show me how much you love your alpha.”
And when your body finally tensed and let go, your arousal spraying over Mingi’s face and tongue, you trembled in his grasp, looking up at him with a desperate need for his claim, for that fierce ownership only he could give when he was inside.
“That’s it…Good omega, good girl…” Groaning in approval, Mingi drew you impossibly close, pressing himself against you, tasting, marking, claiming, his voice low and ragged as he murmured the same feral, wolfish praise over and over.
Mingi’s warm tongue slipped into your mouth and down your throat before you could even ask him for what you really needed, his body settling heavily over yours, your joined skin slick with sweat, his leaking cock rubbing over your stomach, humping against you like a wolf in rut, every shift of his body radiating hunger.
You broke the sloppy kiss with a trembling gasp, your lips still connected with a few strings of shared saliva. “M-Mingi… knot me,” you whispered, voice shaky but desperate, the words spilling from your lips before your brain could stop them, your eyes wide and shining with need.
The alpha growl that rolled from his chest vibrated through you like thunder. Mingi’s large hands were suddenly everywhere, strong and unyielding, tugging, lifting, and guiding you with absolute control. Your body was nothing but pliant heat in his grasp, every motion directed by him, every nerve alive with anticipation.
He positioned you effortlessly, shifting you until you were exactly where he wanted, hips tiled up, bent over like an omega meant to be bred, body flush against him, the weight of his cock settled in between the curve of your ass. His scent enveloped you, thick and wild, and you shivered at the raw, possessive energy radiating off him.
“You want this?” he whispered raspily, lips brushing your hairline as he draped his full body weight over you, teeth grazing your shoulder, voice low and feral. “You want me to claim you? Pump you full of pups and make you mine forever?”
“Yes, Alpha,” you breathed, every word soaked in need. “I’m yours. Take me.”
A wolfish grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Get ready, baby,” he sighed, growling as he stuffed himself inside you, every thrust he made deliberate, dominant, claiming. His hands roamed over your warm body, gripping, guiding, and holding you in place while his weight and heat enveloped you.
Even through the haze of your own heat, you could feel the tension building between you, the scent of him thick in the air, the power in his movement, the hunger in his strokes. Every instinct in you answered, trembling and quivering, ready to surrender entirely to him.
After another powerful thrust, Mingi shifted slightly, one hand tilting your head back, exposing your neck and jaw. His lips found yours in a fierce, claiming kiss before trailing down to brush over your cheek, tongue flicking over it in a possessive, teasing gesture.
“F-fuck—Mingi!” Your voice cracked, a few tears dripping down your flushed cheeks from the sheer pleasure, your face slick and shiny. Regardless, you pressed back into him, only to be driven forward by the force each time, the need, the utter mess of pleasure swallowing him whole.
Mingi’s body encompassed yours entirely, hands pressed onto the mattress past your trembling shoulders, pounding harder, hips slamming into his omega with abandon. “That’s it, baby—scream for me. That’s my girl.”
Your back arched violently, slick skin slapping against his, knees buckling under the relentless pace. Your hands clawed desperately at the sheets, at the nearby pillows, anywhere to hold on as you rode wave after wave of overstimulation. “Mingi, i-it’s so big, so good, I’ll—”
Mingi’s breaths came faster once he felt your warm squirt envelop his cock, low growls escaping him as he pulled out and flipped you over onto your back. He stroked his aching cock before pushing back inside, each punishing motion punching a sharp, broken gasp from your lips. “Damn it…” he muttered under his breath. “So fucking messy… so fucking mine.”
The alpha’s hands dug into your hips, driving you harder down onto his cock, faster, merciless. “Mine to fuck,” Mingi growled, voice low and dark. “Feel how much I’m taking you—how full I make you?”
“Yes, Alpha!—so much—so good—shit, I’m gonna—oh god—” Your moans tore through the room, anyone nearby able to hear just how thoroughly you were being bred, every movement frantic, feral, your body shaking from the sheer size of Mingi inside you. Your hips pressed down, grinding uncontrollably, drool dripping from your lips as you lost yourself entirely.
Mingi leaned closer, smirking darkly against your lips. “Gonna make you cum all over me again, yeah? On my knot?”
You cried out for your alpha, pathetic and desperate, your nails leaving streaks of red down his wide, muscular back. “Mingi—fuck—yes—oh god—don’t stop!” As soon as you felt the base of his length swelling up, every muscle in your body clenched up, your final release spilling all over Mingi’s knotted cock, hot and overwhelming, leaving you gasping for air you didn’t have.
The alpha didn’t relent. Mingi drove into you with one last, hard thrust before he came with a shuddering roar, deep inside his omega, filling you completely as the room echoed with wet, messy, pleasure-born sounds.
You fell limp underneath him, blinking the stars away, trembling from the feral, overwhelming sensation. Once Mingi pulled out, a few slick strands of cum leaked down your spent cunt. He instinctively pushed back in, carefully moving your limbs so that he could lay down on the bed beside you, his softened cock still keeping you warm, full.
Mingi’s strong arms wrapped around you, heavy and protective, pulling you close until your chest pressed against his. His breath slowed, brushing warm against your hair and neck, the sharp edge of his feral hunger replaced with something tender, possessive, and comforting. You nuzzled into his shoulder instinctively, scent mingling, feeling the lingering heat of him surrounding you.
The quiet was broken by your soft, shaky apology. “I… I’m sorry for teasing you earlier…”
Mingi’s arms tightened around you. “Don’t be,” he murmured, voice low, rough at the edges but gentle. “It’s my fault for not paying enough attention to my precious omega.” He pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of your head, then let one hand drift slowly down your back, thumb tracing long, soothing strokes along your spine, grounding you after the storm of heat and instinct.
You rested your face against his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, letting your racing pulse settle as his scent wrapped around you like a blanket.
“Mine,” Mingi whispered, nuzzling your neck, and the word made your heart stutter and calm at the same time.
“Yours,” you murmured back, voice tiny and breathless, curling into him. Mingi chuckled softly, a low, content rumble, and pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head, holding you like he meant to never let go.
discoholicmusic
blakekathryn
theartofmadeline
dededos
vaporwave
origamiaround
romaincrisis
