「pairing」 : older!roommate!mingi x inexperienced!fem!reader
「word count」 : 2.7k
「genre」 : smut
「summary」 : you post an ad looking for a new roommate, only to find out that it would be mingi
「warnings」 : dubcon, very dom mingi, reader is a virgin, corruption, masturbation, mingi is kind of a perv, fingering, oral (m receiving), degradation, unprotected sex, cream pie, breeding kink, pet names, minimal aftercare. i am not responsible for the media you choose to consume
「author's note」 : this is based on this ask so i hope you like it! im sorry if it is not what you hoped for lol i got carried away
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I had posted a roommate ad, trying to find someone to split rent with. I am broke, just graduated high school, and I desperately had to get out of my parents house. I spent my last two years of school trying to save up for when I graduated, but there was no way I would have gotten enough to afford a place by myself.
The ad was simple. Preferably around the same age as me, clean, good communication, and a stable source of income so there would be no doubts about the bill payments. One crucial thing I had left out was female.
When I received a few messages from potential roommates, none of them really seemed compatible. But there was one, the only profile information was age and the family name of ‘Song’. We had started chatting, and it seemed like they were a great match to my roommate's needs. Stable job, 23 years old, respectful.
-
I had been living in the apartment for a week already when I heard the knock at the door. My stomach dropped. This was it. I was finally going to meet my new roommate.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans as I walked to the door, trying to calm the nervous energy that had been building all morning. The apartment still felt too big, too empty with just me rattling around in it. I was hoping Song would be easy to get along with, that we'd maybe even become friends. God knows I could use one right now.
I opened the door with what I hoped was a friendly smile.
And then my brain short-circuited.
Standing in the doorway was decidedly not a girl. He was tall - really tall - with broad shoulders and dark hair that fell slightly into his eyes. He was holding a box labeled 'kitchen stuff' in messy handwriting, and when he saw me, his face broke into an easy, dimpled smile.
"Hey! You must be Y/N," he said, his voice warm and friendly. "I'm Mingi. Sorry I'm a bit late getting here, the moving truck got delayed."
I stood there, frozen, my mouth probably hanging open like an idiot. Mingi. Song Mingi. He was a guy.
How had I not realized? How had it never come up in our messages? I racked my brain, trying to remember if I'd ever specifically asked, if there had been any indication. But our conversations had been so straightforward. Work schedules, cleaning habits, noise levels, splitting utilities. I'd just... assumed.
"Uh, hey," I finally managed, stepping aside to let him in. What else was I supposed to do? My name was on the lease. His name was on the lease. I'd already paid first and last month's rent plus the security deposit. Every cent I'd saved was tied up in this apartment.
Mingi stepped inside, completely oblivious to my internal panic. "Wow, you've already made it look really cozy in here," he said, glancing around at my modest decorating attempts, some throw pillows, a couple of plants, posters I'd hung in the living room. "I promise I won't mess up your system. I'm pretty organized."
"Yeah, no, it's... it's fine," I said, my voice coming out higher than normal. I cleared my throat. "Do you need help bringing stuff up?"
"That would be awesome, actually. I've got a friend helping but he had to take a call. Should only be a few more boxes."
I followed him out to the hallway in a daze, where a small pile of boxes and bags was stacked against the wall. This was fine. This was totally fine. Just because he was a guy didn't mean anything was wrong. We had good conversations. He'd been respectful, responsible, exactly what I'd needed in a roommate.
But my parents would lose their minds if they found out. And I hadn't told any of my friends yet that I'd found someone. I'd been planning to introduce them to my new roommate once we were both settled.
I picked up a box labeled 'books' and headed back inside, my mind racing. Maybe I was overreacting. Plenty of people had roommates of the opposite gender, right? This was normal. This was fine.
Mingi came in behind me with two boxes stacked on top of each other. "Just put that anywhere in the living room for now," he said. "I'll sort through everything later. Man, I'm so glad this worked out. I was starting to think I'd never find a decent place."
"Yeah," I said weakly, setting the box down. "Me too."
He grinned at me again, and I noticed he had a really genuine smile. Not creepy, not weird. Just... friendly. Normal.
I took a breath. I could do this. I had to do this. There was no backing out now, no money to find somewhere else, no way to undo the legally binding contract I'd signed.
—--
About a month or so had passed since he moved it. We fell into a pretty consistent rhythm of not really speaking on the weekdays because of work. Then on the weekends, if I didn't make any prior plans, we would hang out at home. Watch movies, drink together, play video games, just the regular friend things. He never really had any plans of his own.
There were a few times where his gaze glued to me a little longer than necessary, or he would offer things out of the ordinary like massaging my shoulders. I didn't really think anything of it, maybe this was just how he showed affection.
I'm starting to view him as an older brother. Someone who makes sure I am safe and taken care of, and I do the same for him. I'm comfortable.
—--
Friday night. Finally. After a brutal week at work, I could actually breathe.
Mingi and I were camped out in the living room, a horror movie playing on the TV. We'd started on opposite ends of the couch, maintaining a respectful distance, but as the tension in the movie ratcheted up, I found myself migrating closer to him. I was a complete wuss when it came to horror, and Mingi's presence felt like a shield against whatever jump scare was coming next.
Without really thinking about it, I let my head rest against his thigh, my focus still locked on the screen. He didn't react, at least not outwardly. His hand didn't move, his breathing didn't change. He just stayed still, solid, reassuring.
What I couldn't see was the chaos happening inside his head, the careful control it took to keep his expression neutral, to not let on that this simple gesture had completely derailed every thought he'd been having about the movie.
His mind began to wander elsewhere. My head is so close to his mostly hard length that he had been concealing under a blanket all night. The way my eyes looked up at him when I turned to talk. His fingers running through my hair. To me it was calming and gentle. To him, he was imagining something entirely different.
I subconsciously grip and dig my nails into his thigh when I get scared. Habit. Only adding fuel to the fire in his brain.
-
The screen flashes from the ending scene to the credits, prompting me to make my escape to my room. ‘“God I am tired” I say, yawning, stretching my arms above my head. All Mingi comprehends at the moment is my crop top riding further up my torso.
Looking up at me with blank eyes “Oh, yeah” he mutters. I trail off to my room.
Once he is sure that I am in my room and most likely won’t come out for the time being, he slides his hand under the blanket, palming his hardness over his shorts. Just the mere thought of my head on his lap again was enough to get him off. His hand movement is slow, trying not to make it obvious he was doing anything on the off chance that I did come back out of my room. Any more pressure or friction against him would cause an audible reaction, and that is the last thing he wanted.
I'm in my room doing something similar. Finger sliding between my folds, scrolling through some low quality porn videos on my phone. Not a peep. Can’t risk Mingi hearing me.
“Fuck this” he mutters.
He threw the blanket off and made his way to my door.
No knock, just him opening my door.
I rush to cover myself.
“What the fuck, Mingi?!” are the only words able to come out of my mouth.
He walks closer to the bed, the only thing I can see is his silhouette from the living room light shining behind him. The bed dips next to me as he sits on the edge. “Show me what you were doing,” he smirks.
“I-I wasn't doing anythi-,”
“Don’t lie doll, what's all of this then?” he says, uncovering the blanket from me, exposing my completely bare pussy glistening in my wetness. The cold air on my core makes me jolt.
“Mingi!” I shout, trying to cover myself again. I am unsuccessful and he just holds the blanket away from me.
‘What, baby? Nothing to be ashamed of” he teases, running his thumb on my thigh.
I am at a loss for words. I have no idea what to say or do. My face must say it all.
“I could help you out if you want,” his voice lowered.
“Mingi, get ou-” I am interrupted again.
“I can help you feel really good,” his eyes lower. His hand now moved from the blanket to my heat, gently rubbing thumb over my clit. I let out a gasp at the unexpected sensation.
My body betrays me instantly, hips twitching under his touch as that single stroke sends sparks shooting through my core. I grab his wrist, trying to push him away, but my grip is weak, fingers trembling against his skin. "Mingi, stop... we can't," I whisper, voice cracking, but the words dissolve into a soft moan when he circles my clit again, slow and deliberate.
He leans in closer, his breath hot against my ear, the scent of him, musky cologne mixed with the faint popcorn from the movie filling my senses. "Can't what, doll? Your pussy's soaking for it," he murmurs, his free hand pinning my arm above my head while the other dips lower, two fingers sliding along my slick folds. I arch off the bed, thighs clenching around his hand, but he pries them apart with his knee, exposing me fully to the dim light.
"Fuck, you're tight," he groans, pushing one finger inside me without warning. The stretch burns just right, my walls fluttering around the intrusion as he pumps it in and out, thumb still pressing firm circles on my clit. “Wait I have never-” I bite my lip hard, stifling a cry, but it escapes anyway - a needy whine that makes his cock twitch visibly in his shorts. He adds a second finger, scissoring them to stretch me wider, curling up to hit that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids. It stings a lot, but the only thing I can focus on at the moment is the pleasure.
“Don’t pretend like you haven't wanted this since the day I moved in. Wearing those short shorts and shirts that have your tits out, practically begging for my attention” he sneers, making me grip tighter around his fingers.
He removes his fingers, and I begin to grip around nothing. He stands up and drops his shorts and boxers, leaving his cock to spring out eagerly. “Suck it”
I sat there blankly. It was big. I have never had a boyfriend, much less sucked a guy off. “I-”
“Quit sitting there acting stupid. I said ‘suck it’. Or do I need to teach you how?’ he demands, his free hand stroking his length slowly, the head brushing against my parted lips. I hesitate, eyes locked on the throbbing shaft inches from my face, but the command in his voice sends a thrill down my spine. 'Open up,' he says, thumb pressing on my lower lip to pry my mouth open.
I obey, tongue darting out tentatively to lick the salty bead of precum from his tip. He groans low in his throat, hips jerking forward as I wrap my lips around the head, sucking gently at first. The taste of him fills my mouth, musky and intense, making my head spin. Mingi tightens his grip in my hair, pushing deeper, the velvety skin sliding over my tongue until he hits the back of my throat. I gag softly, tears pricking my eyes, but he doesn't let up, holding me there as I adjust to the stretch.
'That's it, take it all,' he murmurs, voice strained with pleasure. I hollow my cheeks, bobbing my head as best I can, saliva dripping down my chin while my hands brace on his thighs for balance. His muscles tense under my palms, and he starts to thrust shallowly, fucking my mouth with controlled snaps of his hips. The wet sounds of my slurping fill the room, mixing with his ragged breaths and the occasional grunt when I swirl my tongue around the underside.
He watches me intently, eyes hooded and fixed on where my lips stretch around him. 'Fuck, your mouth feels perfect,' he praises, one hand cupping my jaw to angle me better. I moan around his cock, the vibration making him curse and buck harder. My jaw aches, but the way he praises me. 'Good girl, just like that’ spurs me on, and I take him deeper.
He slides the whole length out of my throat and pushes me back onto the bed. “God I can't wait to get into this virgin pussy,” he groans.
He grabs my thighs, yanking them wide and settling between them, the head of his dick nudging against my dripping entrance. 'Gonna fill you up,' he promises, then thrusts in with one brutal snap of his hips. I cry out at the sudden fullness, my walls stretching to accommodate him, the burn morphing quickly into pressure. He groans, burying himself to the hilt, balls pressing against my ass as he pauses, letting me adjust.
'So goddamn tight,' he mutters, rolling his hips in a slow grind that hits every sensitive spot inside me. My hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging in as he starts to move, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, setting a punishing rhythm. The bed creaks under us, our skin slapping together with each forceful drive. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, lost in the raw sensation of him fucking me senseless.
Sweat beads on his forehead, dripping onto my chest as he pounds into me harder, one hand sliding up to pinch and twist my nipple through my top. 'Tell me you want it, doll. Beg for my cum.' His voice is a command, laced with dominance that makes my pulse race. I hesitate for a split second, but the coil tightening in my belly again overrides everything. 'Please, Mingi... cum inside me. Fuck, I need it.'
That breaks him. His thrusts turn erratic, hips snapping with desperate urgency as he chases his release. “Gonna breed this pretty pussy”. I meet him stroke for stroke, my clit grinding against his pelvis with every plunge. I shatter, screaming his name as my pussy milks him tight. He follows with a guttural roar, cock pulsing as he floods me with hot spurts of cum, filling me until it leaks out around him.
He pulls out, admiring the messy sight in front of him. All I can do is lay there breathless, trying to comprehend what just happened.
He gets a damp cloth from the bathroom and cleans me up and I still lay in shock. “You did so well,” he praised, leaving a kiss on my forehead.
a/n: My first waterbomb as an atiny! man y'all hyped it up appropriately lol. that was wild. anyway I asked like a day after it who you wanted me to write a waterbomb fic for and i decided ultimately to do a little drabble for all of them. maknae line here. enjoy.
synopsis: ATEEZ performs at the Waterbomb Festival. reader gets to enjoy the aftermath.
tags: ateez (individual members) x reader. second person, no use of y/n. waterbomb festival, ateez members are all wet!!!! drabbles for each member. hyung line (seonghwa, hongjoong, yunho, yeosang). fluff, some suggestiveness
warnings: slight suggestiveness, no explicit content.
thanks for reading! maknae version here! leave a comment or reblog if you enjoyed it!
seonghwa
he'd come find you immediately after, slightly uncomfortable in the wet clothes, knowing seeing you would distract him from it.
your face lights up, arms open to give him a hug, and he hesitates.
“what?”
he smiles apologetically. “I'm all wet. I don't want to mess up your outfit,” he says, his gaze lingering on different parts of you. your heart flutters, remembering how you picked this outfit specifically for him, matching in the blue and white color scheme for the day while making sure each garment and accessory was something you knew he liked on you.
“I don't care, hwa, I just want to hug you.”
he nods and pulls you to his chest, the white shirt he has on practically sticking to your skin from its dampness.
he grimaces, hating the feeling of his shirt and jeans clinging to him, but, loving your warmth and sweetness more, pulls you in more tightly, giving you a kiss to your head.
you pull back to smile at him, then to his surprise, you take off his glasses and put them on your own face. somehow, they looked bigger on your face, the frames falling down the bridge of your nose.
he chuckles, overwhelmed by your cuteness, and gently pinches each of your cheeks. “having fun there?” he teases.
in response, you start an impression of him, doing his first solo part in “Work,” complete with the confident air of his voice in the line and the accompanying dance, and having to keep pushing the glasses back up your nose throughout it.
he laughs lightly, then grabs your arm to pull you to him, carefully but firmly.
“you're ridiculous,” he chuckles, shaking his head and his hand comes up to take back the glasses. “and I love you for it.”
he leans down to kiss you. He was right; you were a pretty great distraction.
hongjoong
hongjoong is delighted to see you outside their bus when they're all going to leave the festival. the rolled-up sleeves of his blue patterned shirt are starting to fall down, and he attempts to roll them up as he approaches you.
“What did you think?” he asks, tiredness in his eyes, but a smile on his face.
“you all did fantastic, joong,” you say with a grin. Your eyes dart down to the chain around his neck, the skin on his collarbone beneath it still shiny from the water.
he smirks at you. “and what do you think of my outfit?” he asks knowingly.
it's a question he's asked you many times before, genuinely valuing your fashion opinions, but this is said like a challenge.
you smirk up at him. “too many layers,” you say, sneaking a hand beneath the covering shirt to touch the white top underneath. “see, this part's barely wet!”
he cocks an eyebrow and looks at your hand placed on his chest. he grabs your wrist, and puts your hand up to his head, tempting you to run your fingers through his damp hair. “how about there? wet enough?”
you giggle. “I guess!”
“how about this: next year, you can go out into the crowd,” he says as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward the bus. “and you get a hold of a water pistol, and I give you my full permission to spray me as much as you want.”
“you'd let me have that kind of power?” you say deviously.
“darling, I’d let you do anything to me,” he murmurs into your ear, and kisses your temple as you blush.
yunho
yunho sees you at home– you couldn't make the festival, but you were already seeing TikToks and posts of it online and you were going feral already, especially seeing how feral atiny was getting over him.
yeah, you're a bit jealous seeing everyone fawn over your man. but you knew he was coming home that night, to you and you alone.
he opens the door and yells for you, dripping all over the floor.
you let out a little shriek of excitement and half-run to him, and he looks shocked but he's laughing.
you practically jump into his arms, and he lifts you off your feet, then puts you back down.
“how was it?” you ask.
“So fun,” he says, pulling at his shirt a little, trying to air it out. “and so much fucking water!” he breathes a laugh.
Your fingers play with the netted shirt over his tank, poking your holes through and pulling it.
Yunho hums, the corner of his mouth going up as he watches you. “Someone likes the ‘fit.”
You shake your head aggressively, grinning as you lie, “No!”
He cocks his head. “Well, if you hate it that much, then I guess I need to take it off!” His arms go up to pull the outer shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor.
Unwittingly, annoyingly, your eyes go wide, your cheeks warming, just over the damn sight of him in his white tank, shoulders exposed and his chest rising and falling with his breaths.
Oh, he knows that look.
He picks you up by the waist, putting you over his shoulder like you're a sack of potatoes, and starts walking toward your bedroom.
“Aah, Yu, stop!” you wack his back.
“Bed time!”
“Bed time?”
He stops, glancing at you over his shoulder with a knowing smile. “Bed. Time.”
“Oh,” you blush, realizing, and you go limp over his shoulder, surrendering. “Carry on.”
Yunho responds with a gentle pat on your ass.
yeosang
you walk up to Yeosang with crossed arms and narrowed eyes.
when he sees you, he smiles, but it falters when he sees your expression, when you don't immediately walk into his open arms.
eyes full of concern, he asks, “what's wrong, baby?”
you blink at him, wanting to laugh, but needing to keep up your angry act. “Yeosang. look at me.”
his brow furrowed, looking you up and down. “What?”
you purse your lips, hiding a smile. “what's the difference between me before the concert and me now? think hard.”
He scans you, eyes lingering on your clothes, which are…tighter than they were before? more… transparent?
“Oh,” he realizes, trying to force away his own growing smile.
“Yeah. You got me soaked, Sangie!” you exclaimed, trying to be mad at him still, but failing by the second.
“Hey, you signed up for this,” he says, his finger and thumb pulling your shirt toward him, trying to let some air underneath to dry it. He lets go and it sticks back to you. “You said you wanted to be in the audience.”
“Yeah, but I didn't want to be in the extreme splash zone! I was okay with getting a little wet, but you targeted me!”
Yeosang is silent for a few seconds, looking you over, considering his next words, and a faint smirk forming.
“Well,” he says in a low voice, “I can't say that wasn't at least part of the plan.”
Your mouth opens wide in protest, ready to lay into him, but his hand on your waist– warm, and right where your crop top exposes skin– stops your words in your throat.
“I'll make it up to you tonight,” he whispers, nodding seriously.
Yeosang kisses you fervently, then pulls away. “Promise.”
You're stunned, and simply nod and smile, too lost in thought about exactly how he'll be making it up to you.
