need to ride mafia jongho during a meeting

OH MY GOD YES 😩😩

He's the mafia boss and you are his wife. You are on his lap, bouncing on his fat cock, unashamedly while he's sitting on his chair, and you are supporting yourself on his shoulders, moaning softly. Half of the room is avoiding to look at you two, embarrassed and flustered, and the other half is looking but Jongho notices that they look at you so he glares at them and warns them. One of them dares to say something, quietly, "boss... we are in a meeting.. that's not the place to-", Jongho cut them off "and? I do what i want, if you're not pleased, you can fuck off", he says firmly. "Baby... gonna cum...", you moan in his neck, Jongho shifts his attention to you "yeah? Then come on my cock, honey...", he says lowly but softly, and he groans at your walls squeezing him when you come so hard. "That's my good girl...", he says, kissing your shoulder.

(I fear i've gone insane)

OOOOO YOURE INSANE AND ILYSM

Jongho Jongho Jongho, Jongho is that member for me that I don’t bias but I love his talent but I’d take me panties off at any given moment for him 😫 he just looks like he’d be the one to fuck you in a headlock like jrjddjjdjekekeej gimme

“breeding kink but i don’t want to get pregnant” WRONG! breeding kink but i want you to hold me down and force me to let you fill me up. breeding kink but i want you to tell me how pretty i’ll look pregnant while you rape me!

Don’t push me away because it doesn’t fit, we’ll make it fit. Won’t we?

I need to be used and fucked in ways that would get you arrested if someone found out

Realest sentence I’ve heard in weeks

I love the idea of being public use.

Those porn videos you see where women are reduced to just their cunts and assholes, the rest of them hidden inside a box or behind a wall.

Not being able to tell who's fucking you, or when they're going to switch holes. No promise of any sort of pleasure. Imagine if someone was to visit after a really long stressful day. How do you plan on stopping them from slapping your cunt until it's so swollen it feels tight again? You can't. You're at anyone's mercy and there's nothing you can do.

https://ko-fi.com/scottishpup

I love outside-of-the-bedroom domination. Like 24x7. It's not even sexual. But reminding someone with little act. Like putting a glass of water in front of her and looking into her eyes until she drinks it all and then sliding her hair off her shoulder and whispering Good girl as the water drips down her throat.

Snowboarder Jongho

pairing: snowboarder!jongho x f reader

wc: 528

warnings: smut, MDNI, throat fucking, non con vibes, masked men vibes

a/n: a little drabble for my bestie @mingtinysworld <333 (I went skiing a grand total of once so I hope the terminology is right 😭)

“MORE NONCON JONGHO” I scream as they drag me into a padded room

Needy, horny little whores forced to participate in society but deep down knowing their true purpose. Sneaking off the bathroom at work or school every second they can get to rub their needy cunts until they’re leaking. Because all they can think about at their desk is how much they want to be used and fucked like a filthy, dirty whore.

we both know your dick is throbbing right now just thinking about me

masturbating so i don’t have to think

We fucked in my mind today, btw.

when you ride him, he lets you believe you're controlling the pace

I want more Jongho smut he’s so fineeeeeee

Another day, another— ‘Why is my mouth not stuffed with San’s juicy melons dripping under the summer sun?’ ‘Why am I not devouring Mingi’s supple ass like a starved and desperate man?’ ‘Why is Jongho’s head not in my lap and my fingers in his hair?’ ‘Why am I not lovingly gazing at Seonghwa while he builds legos and yaps about his little interests in real time?’ ‘Why is Hongjoong not recruiting me into his cult of debauchery and hedonism?’ ‘Why am I not watching Wooyoung desperately bounce on my strap?’ ‘Why is Yeosang not my wife?’ ‘Why is Yunho not my other wife?’

Real shit rn

Pairing: Yunho x Reader

Genre: Horror, Smut (a little bit), Psychological Thriller

Warnings: Noncon/dubcon themes, obsessive behavior, stalking, violence, manipulation, yandere Yunho

Word Count: 2,992 words.

Your first mistake was not noticing him sooner.

You had always been the type to keep to yourself, working late shifts, returning to your apartment just before the city drowned in silence. It made you an easy target. Vulnerable. Alone. He had watched you from the shadows, lurking just out of sight, memorizing every habit, every move.

Yunho had always been there. Behind you in grocery store lines, watching from across the street, his fingers twitching at his sides whenever you passed by without acknowledging him. But he was patient. He knew obsession was a slow-growing sickness, and he had let it fester until the hunger was unbearable.

Tonight, he wouldn’t wait any longer.

You barely had time to react when you unlocked your apartment door and stepped inside. The moment the lock clicked shut, an arm wrapped around your waist, and a warm, calloused hand clamped over your mouth before you could scream. A deep voice whispered in your ear, shivering against your skin.

“You’ve ignored me for so long, sweetheart. Did you think I wouldn’t come for you?”

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you thrashed, but Yunho was strong—far too strong. He pressed you against the wall, his body caging yours, his breathing ragged like he had waited forever for this moment. His fingers slid from your mouth to your throat, not squeezing but just resting there, feeling your pulse hammer beneath his palm.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your ear, down to your jaw, the heat of his breath making you shudder. “How many nights I stood outside, watching you sleep, imagining how soft you’d feel under me?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled, but Yunho only chuckled, pressing his thigh between your legs, forcing you still. “Don’t fight me,” he cooed. “I’ve already decided—you’re mine now.”

When his lips crashed against yours, it was violent, possessive. His tongue pushed into your mouth, swallowing your muffled whimpers as he pinned your wrists above your head. Every touch was a brand against your skin, every rough grind of his body against yours making your stomach twist with a mixture of fear and something darker—something you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“You’re trembling,” he mused, dragging his tongue along your throat before nipping at the skin hard enough to leave a mark. “Are you scared… or do you like this?”

His hands moved down, slipping under your shirt, palming your waist before dipping lower. You gasped, back arching against him, and Yunho groaned. “That’s it. Give in to me, sweetheart. I’ll take such good care of you.”

His words were sick, twisted—but so was the fire curling in your gut as his fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your shorts.

And in that moment, with Yunho’s breath hot against your skin and his grip unrelenting, you knew one thing for sure.

You would never escape him.

You were his.

Forever.

Your breath came in short, desperate gasps, your body caught between fear and something far more treacherous as Yunho’s fingers toyed with the waistband of your shorts. You wanted to fight—your mind screamed at you to fight—but your body betrayed you, locked in place by the weight of his presence.

Yunho hummed, amused by your hesitation. “Look at you,” he murmured, dragging his tongue along the curve of your throat before sinking his teeth into your skin. You whimpered, and he groaned. “You’re already mine, sweetheart. There’s no need to pretend otherwise.”

Before you could speak—before you could even think—Yunho spun you around and shoved you against the wall, pressing his body against yours. His fingers twisted into your hair, yanking your head back to force you to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually warm and gentle when you had seen him around town, were now dark with something much more dangerous.

“You never noticed me, did you?” His grip tightened slightly, just enough to make you whimper. “Not when I followed you home. Not when I stood outside your window at night. Not when I watched you touch yourself, thinking you were alone.”

Your stomach dropped. A sick feeling curled in your gut, horror creeping up your spine like a cold hand. “You’re lying,” you whispered, but your voice shook.

Yunho chuckled, the sound low and predatory. “Am I?” He let go of your hair, but only so he could grab your wrists, pinning them behind your back with one hand. His free hand trailed down your stomach, slipping under your shorts with agonizing slowness. “I know everything about you,” he purred. “What makes you shiver, what makes you weak.” His fingers dipped lower, brushing over your panties, and you bit your lip, refusing to give him any reaction.

That only seemed to amuse him more. “Still pretending?” he mused. “That’s alright. You’ll break soon enough.”

With a flick of his wrist, Yunho pulled a knife from his pocket. You barely had time to react before he pressed the cool blade against your throat—not hard enough to cut, but enough to make your pulse spike.

“Please…” you breathed, though you weren’t even sure what you were begging for.

Yunho grinned, his lips brushing over your ear. “Say you’re mine.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Yunho, please—”

The knife pressed just a little harder, a silent warning. “Say it.”

Your throat tightened. Every nerve in your body screamed at you to resist, to fight—but deep down, you knew. There was no escaping him.

You swallowed hard, the words tasting like poison on your tongue.

“…I’m yours.”

Yunho groaned, his grip tightening as he rutted against you, his breath hot against your ear. “That’s my good girl.”

And then the knife was gone, discarded carelessly as Yunho lifted you into his arms and carried you to the bed.

And the night was just beginning.

Yunho didn’t rush.

He wanted you to feel everything—every touch, every whisper, every second of helplessness. He moved with purpose, dragging you into his world inch by inch, until you forgot what life had felt like before his presence consumed you.

The bed creaked beneath you as he hovered above, his fingers brushing over your trembling skin. He had stripped you down to nothing but vulnerability, your body pliant beneath his firm grip. His gaze burned, drinking you in like he had been waiting for this moment his entire life. And maybe he had.

His hand caressed your cheek, deceptively gentle. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his thumb tracing over your parted lips. “Mine.”

That word again. Yours. His. Like you had ever been given a choice.

A shudder wracked through your body as Yunho pressed his lips to your throat, kissing over the bruises he had already left. His hands roamed, exploring, teasing, claiming. He worshiped you with his touch while simultaneously tearing you apart with his possession.

“You don’t have to be scared,” he whispered, lips brushing against your collarbone. “I’ll take care of you. Love you.” His voice darkened. “Even if you don’t want me to.”

His grip tightened as he pinned your wrists above your head, binding them with something soft—fabric? A tie? You barely registered what it was before his mouth was on yours again, stealing your breath, swallowing your whimpers.

It was overwhelming. Heat, fear, need—a tangled mess of emotions you didn’t want to admit to.

Yunho groaned against your lips, rolling his hips against yours, teasing, pushing, taking. “You feel it, don’t you?” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “You were always meant to be mine.”

And in that moment, as darkness swirled around you and Yunho’s obsession wrapped around your soul like chains—maybe he was right.

Maybe you had never stood a chance.

Time lost all meaning in the confines of Yunho’s apartment.

It was as though the world outside had disappeared completely. The outside noises—traffic, voices, the buzz of the city—were muffled by the thick walls, swallowed up by the sickeningly quiet air that surrounded you. The only sound you could focus on was Yunho’s breath, warm and steady against your skin as he loomed over you.

You had no sense of time anymore. Hours? Days? Minutes? It all bled together. What you did know was that you couldn’t escape him. Not physically, not mentally. He had planted himself in your mind, and every time you tried to think of a way out, he was there, in the back of your thoughts, watching.

“You belong here,” Yunho murmured softly, his voice almost soothing in its dark intensity. He was sitting beside you, his fingers brushing over the tangled mess of your hair as you lay motionless, staring up at the ceiling. “I won’t let you leave. Not now. Not ever.”

You didn’t respond. What was the point? Words felt useless against his presence. Your throat tightened whenever you tried to speak, and your heart ached with the knowledge that no matter what you said, it wouldn’t make a difference. He wasn’t listening to you.

He never had been.

The nights blurred together. You couldn’t remember when he had first held you down and made you admit you were his, or when his touch had crossed the line from terrifying to almost comforting. Maybe it had always been this way—slow, insidious, like a disease creeping through your veins.

“You should rest,” Yunho would say in his calm, almost affectionate tone, pressing a hand to your forehead like you were nothing more than a fragile thing to be cared for. But the way he said it was always so cold, so possessive. It wasn’t kindness, not really. It was control disguised as affection.

You didn’t trust him.

But there were moments—small, fleeting moments—where you felt a strange pull toward him. When his fingers grazed your skin, tracing the curves of your body as if you were something delicate, something precious he was protecting. In those moments, it almost felt like you could let go, like the world outside was so far away that it no longer mattered.

But those moments never lasted.

Every time your guard slipped, Yunho’s true nature would come crashing back in. He’d look at you with eyes full of hunger, not love. Not tenderness. Just dark, obsessive need. “You’ll never leave me,” he would whisper, his breath ghosting over your ear. “Not when you know what it feels like to be mine.”

His touch would grow more insistent, his body pressing against yours in a way that made you shiver—not with desire, but with something far more primal, far more terrifying.

He was playing with you.

And you were too scared to resist.

It wasn’t long before you realized the truth. He was breaking you down, piece by piece. He didn’t need to hurt you to control you; all he had to do was make you feel like you couldn’t survive without him.

“You’re afraid of me,” Yunho would say, his voice low, almost tender. “But you’re more afraid of being alone, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t deny it. Being alone was worse than anything he could do to you.

“You’ll learn to love me,” he whispered once, tracing the curve of your jaw with his finger. “It’ll hurt at first. But eventually… you’ll crave it.”

And part of you—just a tiny, twisted part—wondered if he was right.

You had been his obsession for so long. Would you ever be able to escape?

Or were you already lost to him?

The days stretched on, and with each passing moment, the tension between you and Yunho grew more suffocating. But there was something else too—a shift. A crack in the armor of his obsession that you couldn’t quite explain. It started with the smallest of things, unnoticeable at first.

He didn’t yell anymore. He didn’t grip you with such force that it left bruises, and he didn’t look at you with the cold, calculating hunger that used to make your skin crawl. There were moments when Yunho would simply sit beside you in silence, his gaze softening as he stared at you like you were something precious, something worth protecting.

It made you uneasy at first. What was this? Was it some new manipulation, a way to keep you under his control? Or was it something else entirely—something deeper, something he didn’t understand about himself?

The change didn’t come all at once. It wasn’t some miraculous, overnight shift. It was slow, painful, and gradual, like a person waking from a long, twisted dream.

One evening, you found yourself sitting at the small dining table in Yunho’s apartment. You hadn’t spoken for hours, both of you lost in your own thoughts. The silence between you felt different—less oppressive, almost peaceful.

“I’m sorry,” Yunho said suddenly, his voice breaking through the stillness.

You froze. You hadn’t heard him apologize once since this whole nightmare had begun.

His hands trembled slightly as he rested them on the table, his head down, avoiding your gaze. “I never wanted to hurt you. I know I did. And I… I don’t know how to fix it.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you saw vulnerability in his eyes—something raw, something that didn’t belong to the possessive monster who had haunted your every waking moment.

“I—I don’t know if you can fix it,” you whispered, your voice shaky. You had wanted to say more, to scream, to demand answers, but the words were too heavy, too tangled in your throat. “What you did, what you’ve done to me…”

Yunho looked at you then, his eyes filled with such intensity, such remorse, that you almost didn’t recognize him. “I didn’t know how to love you,” he admitted, his voice raw. “I thought… I thought I had to make you mine by force, but I was wrong. I see that now. You don’t belong to me. You’re your own person, and I’ve been trying to control you instead of care for you.”

The confession hit you harder than you expected. Yunho, the man who had once haunted your every step, was finally acknowledging the darkness within himself. And, perhaps, he was starting to fight it.

“You’re not the monster I thought you were,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you looked at him—really looked at him. “You’ve hurt me, but I can’t help but see the person beneath all of this. I… I don’t know if I can forgive you, not yet. But I see you trying.”

Yunho’s lips trembled as he reached across the table, his hand hovering just above yours. His touch was tentative, hesitant, as if he was afraid you would pull away. Slowly, you let your fingers brush against his, the smallest spark of connection between you.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, and this time, it felt real. “I’ll never hurt you again. If you’ll give me the chance, I want to show you that I can be better. I want to be better for you.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as you met his gaze. The darkness that had once consumed him was still there, lurking in the depths of his soul—but it wasn’t all that remained. There was something else now. Hope, maybe. A fragile, tentative hope that maybe, just maybe, he could change.

“I don’t know if I can trust you yet,” you said softly, your voice trembling with the weight of your decision. “But… maybe we can start over. Slowly. I need time, Yunho.”

His eyes softened as he nodded, his grip on your hand gentle, his thumb brushing across your knuckles in a silent promise. “I’ll give you all the time you need.”

And as the silence settled over you both, it felt different now. Less suffocating, less oppressive. There was no force, no pressure. Just a fragile possibility, a chance for healing.

For the first time in a long while, you let yourself believe in the possibility of something better. A future. Maybe with Yunho, maybe without. But the idea that you could choose, that you had the power to decide your own fate again, filled you with something you hadn’t felt in a long time: freedom.

And with that, the darkness that had once ruled your life began to lose its grip. It didn’t disappear entirely, but you had reclaimed a part of yourself. And maybe, in time, Yunho would learn to heal the parts of himself that were broken.

Maybe, together, you could find redemption.

Days Later

The scars of the past didn’t fade overnight.

At first, you weren’t sure how to exist outside of Yunho’s grasp. Even after he let you leave, even after he gave you the key to the apartment and told you that you were free to go whenever you wanted, it still didn’t feel real.

He didn’t stop you when you packed a small bag and stepped out into the cold night. He didn’t chase you when you hesitated at the door, looking back one last time.

“I meant what I said,” Yunho had murmured, his eyes filled with something unrecognizable—guilt, longing, sorrow. “You’re free now.”

And yet, you hadn’t run as far as you thought you would.

You had every right to hate him. The fear, the suffocation, the helplessness—none of it could be erased. But in the time you spent away from him, trying to reclaim the pieces of yourself that he had taken, one truth became harder and harder to ignore.

Yunho was trying.

And it wasn’t an act.

You saw it in the way he avoided you at first, keeping his distance as if afraid his presence alone would shatter you. You saw it in the way he never looked at you with that obsessive hunger anymore, only a quiet, aching regret.

And, perhaps most importantly, you saw it in the way he let you go.

But you came back.

At first, it was accidental—running into him at a café, where he had been sitting alone, staring blankly into his coffee. The moment his eyes met yours, he stiffened, ready to leave, ready to spare you the pain of facing him again.

But you had surprised yourself by sitting down across from him.

Neither of you spoke for a long time.

Finally, he had whispered, “Why are you here?”

And you had no answer.

Not yet.

But that meeting led to another. And another. Small conversations. Careful interactions. A slow, hesitant rebuilding of something fragile, something new. Yunho never touched you without permission. He never made you feel like his possession. He never once demanded anything from you.

He let you set the pace.

And for the first time, you saw Yunho for who he really was—not the monster who had taken you, but the broken man beneath it all. A man who had confused obsession with love. A man who had learned, too late, the weight of his own darkness.

A man who, despite everything, had only ever wanted to love you.

One evening, under the soft glow of streetlights, he finally spoke the words that had been hanging between you both.

“I don’t deserve you.” His voice was quiet, thick with emotion. “But I want to be someone who does.”

You had expected that moment to be terrifying, but instead, it felt… safe. Because for the first time, Yunho wasn’t trying to take. He was offering.

A choice.

And you made it.

It wasn’t perfect. It would never be easy. There were nights when the memories still haunted you, when the past still curled around your throat like a ghost. But Yunho never pushed, never overstepped. He waited, patient, willing to let you come to him on your own terms.

And when you finally reached for him—when you kissed him for the first time, not out of fear, but out of something real—he trembled beneath your touch.

Because this time, you weren’t his because he had taken you.

You were his because you had chosen to be.

And that made all the difference.

─── FEB FILTH FEST: Swim - ROUGH ♡

SUMMARY / Your husband comes home angry, so you let him take it out on you.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

prettiest virgin

》 pairing: dilf! j.yh x fem babysitter! reader

》 wc: 7.8k

》 plot: every night this summer, you fantasized about your boss, Mr. Jeong. babysitting his adorable daughter all summer had turned your small crush on the young, single dad into a lust-filled infatuation. after an awkward encounter that left you both humiliated, you did your best to keep your distance at his daughter’s birthday party. that is, until fate trapped you in a bathroom with him while the party carried on outside.

》 content: oh boy, let's see, age gap, aged up yunho, virgin reader, reader lowkey down bad and porn-obsessed, bathroom sex, mirror sex, panties stay on!! grinding, cowgirl stand and carry, yunho basically using you like a fleshlight, use of sir and good girl, filthy dirty talk, cum eating, cum facial, multiple orgasms, reader obsessed with his cum lol, thigh fucking, sucking his dick while he watches porn??? MONSTER CAWK YUNHO

》 playlist: prettiest virgin- agar agar, candy- doja cat, I fucking lust you- d'african, taste so good- sabrina claudio, less of you- omar apollo, real life- the marias