#<- lol why was my post already tagged with this?

[bruhstories]

Bet III

p.1 here & p.2 here

summary: the game is on, but in-ho can't focus on it. he's got you on his mind pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan, slight voyeurism, people dying ayy yo (but if you watched squid game, this is just normal) w/c: 2.2k

a/n: if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post! thank you for reading! also feel free to replace y/n's age, i just needed to put a number there lol

In-ho removed the intricately designed mask from his face and poured himself a glass of whisky, one leg crossed over the other as he sat on the leather sofa of the control room. The first game was about to begin soon — always Red Light, Green Light — and he waited for his favourite song to start — always Fly Me To The Moon. There was something so hauntingly beautiful about listening to a love song while people lost all hope, one by one falling to the ground.

It was a fantastic way to get rid of the weakest links, leaving only those resilient alive. Player 101, eliminated. Player 82, eliminated. Player 329, eliminated. Player 2, eliminated. They dropped like flies, frantically clawing at the gates in a futile attempt to escape while the soldiers shot them from above, painting the ground crimson.

Exhilarating was the only word that could describe what In-ho felt in that moment, and nothing compared to it. When happiness died along with his wife, control was the only thing that fulfilled him. He controlled who died and who lived, but he was also being fair — if participants played by the rules, they survived. It couldn’t get any simpler than that.

Obviously, they didn't have a choice, and In-ho knew that well enough. No, players only had the illusion of choice, but that mirage was what kept them in the game. Besides, they chose to come to the island. They chose to gamble their lives. They chose to be greedy. If anything, the games taught them, albeit for a short time, that actions had consequences, and In-ho was their judge, jury and executioner. It was truly thrilling. Exciting. Exhilarating.

His phone lit up with a notification from the security cameras concealed in his house. Irked by the sudden disturbance, he opened the app to check the footage. You weren't supposed to be there at that time, because you had already been at his house in the morning. In-ho watched you lock the door behind you, thinking today was the day you stole from him and proved him right.  He scoffed, hoping you would last longer than one day, but to his surprise, you sat on the kitchen floor, knees to your chest, crying. 

He couldn't send you a text — it would have made it obvious that he knew you were there, and his eyes lingered on his phone, forgetting about the game in front of him for a moment. In-ho watched you take out your phone and type, and not a minute later he received a text.

Good morning again! I had a bit of free time after my second job today and came to check on Eunjoo. I'll be leaving in an hour for my other job and I'm not charging for the extra visit.

In-ho stared at the big screen, completely dumbfounded and ignorant to the people dying right before his eyes. How were you working that many jobs? That was, if you were even telling the truth. But he would find out soon, because he left a stack of 2 million won on his nightstand, eagerly waiting for you to take it. You had to take it. You had to be the same as everyone else.

That's absolutely fine. If you don't mind me asking, how many jobs are you working?

He swapped back to the security cameras and watched you wipe the tears off your face with the back of your hand, smiling at his text. Did he say something funny? Why on Earth would you be smiling when a minute ago you had tears rolling down your cheeks?

Officially two, unofficially three. I teach Korean to a family of immigrants, but that's unpaid. I think of it as volunteering. They do feed me, though! My other job is a mascot at Lotte World.

In-ho shattered the empty glass in his hand while reading your text, and winced when he felt blood seeping from a fresh cut. Why, just why did you have to prove him wrong? He watched you go into his bedroom with a pile of freshly clean and dried shirts, ignoring the money. You saw the stack, he noticed you staring at it, hoping you grabbed it, but you found his ironing board and began to iron his shirts, not sparing the money another glance.

Why?

Through the camera, he saw you text back.

Why what?

"Tsk." In-ho scoffed at your question while wrapping a bandage around his palm.

Why are you working that many jobs?

Ah. My uncle has debts. Unfortunately, I had to drop out from uni to help him pay for them. It's fine though, I like what I'm doing. 

How old are you?

23.

Jesus Christ, you were so young, yet life had been unfair to you. You deserved an education, a better life, and it cemented his ideal that the world needed to rid itself of the trash. He didn't know the full details, but he was sure to find out. You were unlike anyone he's met before. At least for now, at least until you proved him right.

Ding!

In-ho opened a picture from you — Eunjoo curling up on the left side of his bed, paws under her, looking like a loaf of bread, and the question 'Is that your side of the bed?' under it.

Indeed it is. 

I knew it! Aww, she misses you :( 

How strange it was to read those words. How strange it was to think about someone, or something missing him. To In-ho that was a foreign feeling, and he loosened his tie, swallowing the lump in his throat. He'd seen Eunjoo sleep on his side of the bed before, when he was gone, but he assumed it was just comfortable for her. 

Animals truly were better than humans. If they betrayed their owners, they did it out of necessity. When humans betrayed, it was by choice. 

In-ho watched you neatly adjust his ironed shirt on a coat hanger that you hung in his wardrobe, disregarding the Red Light, Green Light game that had long finished, and it hit him like a train that you reminded him of his wife. God, you were so much like his wife it infuriated him, because no one was allowed to take that place in his heart. No one was allowed to make him feel anything other than hatred.

You had to make a mistake, to prove to him that you were just like everybody else, and if money didn't make you crack, something else would. In-ho made it his purpose to unravel your darkest secrets, whether through manipulation or sheer force, but the distance between the two of you proved a greater obstacle than he thought. 

He watched you finish ironing his clothes, watched you refill Eunjoo's water bowl, watched you comb your hair and put lip balm on while staring into his mirror, and it felt so wrong to study all your quirks and habits without you even knowing. It was the closest thing to having a normal life. But nothing about what he was doing was normal. Especially not watching you be so oblivious to his true self.

With a sigh, In-ho adjusted his mask left the control room to instruct his subordinates, the square-masked guards, to prepare  for the next game, Neolttwigi, the soldiers to take the remaining players back to their beds, and the workers to remove the corpses. 188 players survived and more than 50% were eliminated. In-ho, in his Front Man persona, should've focused on the games, but he couldn't, for some unknown reason, shake off the image of you crying on his kitchen floor. He didn’t dare ask what happened. How could he? It would destroy all the secrecy.

It wasn't that he cared about you — he didn't. You appeared to be a positive, cheerful and talkative person, so whatever hurt your feelings must have been important. Was it your uncle? Your boyfriend? He scoffed at that thought. The mere idea of some guy breaking your heart made him irrationally angry, and In-ho was lucky that his mask concealed his frustration. 

He decided to pay the remaining players a visit, accompanied by eight armed guards, and, just like last year, and the year before, and the year before that, there was always a woman who dropped to her knees, begging to be spared and allowed to go home. Another one followed, and even men asked for forgiveness, but they just couldn't get it through their thick skulls that they chose to be there. They chose to gamble their lives away, they chose to borrow money and end up with debts they could never afford to repay. No one forced them to play the games.

When the room was filled with echoing cries and hysterical sobs, In-ho fired a single shot in the air, shutting everyone up. They all looked at him with fear in their eyes like pigs in a slaughterhouse waiting to be gutted, and he lowered the gun, standing firm on his feet.

"You must be mistaken. You are not here to be punished, you are all here because of the choices you made." In-ho simply said, his voice distorted by the mask. 

He took notice of teams already being formed, of those who were willing to step on corpses just to get the big prize and those who would rather sacrifice themselves, because there were always people who wanted to play the hero. He studied them all before they got recruited, and knew 456 secrets, 456 names, 456 lives. Well, only 188 survived.

"We came here to win money, not to fucking die!" Player 072 shouted from the back of the room. "And if I'm correct, we can vote to go back home."

Ah, yet another one who thought they could outsmart In-ho. He's been there before. He walked that path before, and it taught him that people don't change. Ever. Even if they voted to leave, they always came back.

"Of course, clause three of the consent form. If the majority decides to go home, you are free to do so. We don't hold anyone against their will." In-ho nodded. "But before you make your choice, allow me to tell you the current accumulated prize."

He pressed a button on a small, black remote and a large glass piggy bank was lowered from the ceiling as the lights in the room dimmed down. Stacks upon stacks of money piled up in the piggy bank, and the screen counted the current prize — 26.8 billion won. In-ho watched how their faces lit up at the amount of money accumulated, but also how the penny dropped for most of them — the more people died, the more money the survivors got.

"If you choose to leave, the money will be distributed amongst the deceased players' families. It’s only fair." He said, and left the room so that the soldiers could prepare for the democratic vote.

"You're manipulating us!" In-ho heard a player shout, and maybe he did. Maybe he was chipping away at their humanity to bring out the worst in them, but it was for the best. At least by dying they served a purpose.

It was no surprise that the majority voted to stay, 95 to 93. Good — he didn't have to go through the trouble of sending them home. The soldiers and workers brought food for the players, and In-ho checked his phone in the safety of his room. There was no text from you, and it was almost time for you to check on Eunjoo, but when it hit 9 and you weren't in his house, he felt a knot in his stomach, an uneasy feeling. Was he worried? Of course he was, for his cat, not for you.

Ding!

The sound of his phone caught him off guard, almost startling him, almost making him feel relieved when he saw it was you, and In-ho read the text.

Evening! Traffic was baaad this evening but I'm nearly at the penthouse. Will Eunjoo ever forgive me? :( 

The stupid sad face you sent made the image of you pouting pop up in his head and he wondered why. There wasn't a good enough reason for you to be haunting him like a phantom. You were a nobody to him.

Eunjoo might, but I won't.

In-ho immediately regretted pressing send. It was unprofessional and stupid of him to text such a reply, because you weren't friends. He had no friends. 

I'm so sorry, but I promise I'll make it up to you, Mr. Hwang! I really need to get you a gift for letting me use your shower anyway.

A relieved sigh escaped his lips when you didn't take his message the wrong way, but part of him was hoping you would try to flirt with him, seduce him, do anything to prove him right. And yet again, you remained true to yourself.

He watched you on the cameras again, how you invaded his home, his life, how you fed Eunjoo and munched on prawn crackers again, disappointed that you, for the second day in a row, refused to use anything in his house for yourself except for the shower and the TV.

There was still time to win the bet, and he never lost.

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @hobiesbrownsgf @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair @missroro @talia-the-gemini @fortluocha @true-queen-of-mischief @ssa-callahan @bibliophile-yomna @wwastro @heartsforseo @marymun @glads-stuff @starryeddie @kisses2kanao @gagaga167 @l4venderia @scryi @lelisae @twicelover2 @ashtrosstuff @cruel-affair @cdej6 @veragrhm

please keep in mind that if i didn't tag you it's because i either missed it, or i couldn't find your age on your blog. there will be smut.

[sincerelyneo]

i wanna be yours | p.js

“secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought”

💿now playing: i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys

❯ summary: Jisung has known for years that his best friend, Chenle’s, sister is his. So there’s no way he’s going to sit back and watch another man touch you—especially not now, when he’s already had a taste of you.

❯ pairings: jisung x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend

❯ words: 3.8k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, marking, possessiveness, unprotected sex (don’t do this), dirty talk, fingering, manhandling, jealousy, slightly toxic, praise, squirting, creampies, jisung has something to prove, arguing, older reader, jisung just being jealous and obsessive for almost 4k words

an: first post of 2025 and it’s an idea that i started writing on the bus lol. (also i’m a firm believer of the jisung is very possessive and clingy agenda)

Jisung could sit here and lie, say that the only reason he’s white-knuckling his fist right now is because he’s protective of you. He could lie and say that he’s just worried about the guy who’s currently got his arm around your waist because you’re his best friend’s sister. He could lie and say he’s just concerned—but he’s not.

He’s jealous.

So fucking jealous.

But he has no right to be. You’re Chenle’s older sister. You can handle yourself—you’ve told him that plenty of times, mocking him with that stupid fucking ‘Jisungie’ nickname you used to call him when you were all just kids.

And still, he watches the way you laugh at something the guy says, your head tilting back just enough to make his chest burn. He knows that laugh. He’s heard it a thousand times before, he loves it, but tonight, it feels different—feels wrong. Your laugh is not meant for this guy. It’s not meant for anyone else but him for that matter. 

Jisung knows he should look away before it becomes too obvious—obvious that he likes you, obvious that he's jealous, obvious that he can’t get you out of his head. But that’s hard to do when just ten minutes ago he had you pressed up against the wall of your childhood room—the same wall you share with Chenle—his cock pounding into you from behind without mercy, and you’d let him. Loved it.

How can he stay composed when that asshole has his hand on his girl’s—Chenle’s sister’s—waist? Jisung jolts as he hears his teeth grind together—fuck, was that his jaw clenching? Safe to say he’s passed subtlety. 

He sucks in a breath. This is Chenle’s birthday party, stop thinking about his sister you idiot. 

Actually, fuck that. 

Because why is that stranger’s hand moving up your thigh so easily? Why does your breath hitch when he leans in closer? Call him toxic; he doesn’t care. But Jisung wishes he hadn’t let you put your panties back on, so that asshole could see—no, feel—his cum dripping out of you as his hand traces your thigh right now.

He scoffs and nurses his drink. Keep calm, it’s Chenle’s birthday. 

Speak of the devil—almost on cue, Jisung feels his best friend slap him on the shoulders with a shout. He glances over his shoulder to see Chenle, clearly drunk, and while he usually hates dealing with his wild, inebriated antics, he appreciates that his best friend is oblivious to the way Jisung is currently eyeing his older sister tonight.

He settles into the empty seat next to Jisung with a grunt. “Y/N forgot my cake. One job that girl had,” Chenle shakes his head, guzzling down the last of his beer before grabbing another and cracking it open.

“She was probably preoccupied,” Jisung shrugs, trying to dismiss any thought of you from his mind. He doesn’t exactly know the right way to tell his friend that his sister was too busy being preoccupied on his cock, and that’s why she forgot his birthday cake. 

Chenle scoffs, “She’s always preoccupied. Look at her,” he gestures toward you. “I think I heard her with that guy earlier. Traumatizing.” He visibly shakes and squeezes his eyes shut.

“It wasn’t him,” Jisung growls.

Chenle swats his hand in the air, already halfway through that new beer bottle. “Yeah, yeah. Doesn’t matter who it was, still traumatizing.”

Jisung nods and purses his lips. But to him, it does matter because it was him. Him who made you pant so desperately, him who filled you so completely that your legs wobbled, and he had to hold you steady, his fingertips imprinted into your hips. Him who made you cum. Him. Always him. And right now, he wanted to make sure that it was only him. 

The sound of Chenle snoring in the seat next to him pulls Jisung from his thoughts and back to where he feels most at home—you. He swears he could find you in seconds; you’re like a magnet, an obsession in his mind. You’re all he can think about, all he’s ever been able to think about, and now that he’s had you, he’s never you letting go. Call him a maniac.

With Chenle undoubtedly crashed out, his eyes find you and the sight of you leaning in closer to that guy, lips almost touching, ignites a fire in him. He sees red—hot, undeniable crimson. Without a thought, he storms over. That’s not true, he’s been thinking about it for the past twenty minutes. 

“Y/N!” he calls out, but not to get your attention, to stop your lips connecting with that asshole, who Jisung is certain he’d be able to take in a fight. 

You turn, surprise flickering in those pretty eyes he loves, and that’s all it takes for Jisung to reach you. He steps between you and the guy, his chest heaving, anger palpable. Without giving you a moment to process, his rough hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back to your childhood bedroom.

Your own wave of crimson flushes over your body as the pink walls come into view and the lock you’d begged your parents for during puberty clicks into place. Jisung had been in your room countless times as kids, when you dressed him and Chenle up like dolls or begged them to play board games. But now, knowing he had you in a pathetic, desperate moaning mess not long ago and gave you the best sex of your life in this very room, it feels different.

He feels different. 

Nostrils flared, fists clenched, and muscles taut. This was not the Jisungie you once made friendship bracelets with or taught to roller skate. No, this was just Jisung—grown up, exuding a raw, masculine energy that was both captivating and intimidating. Sexy even. Perhaps that’s why you got distracted when he came over early to set up for Chenle’s birthday.

You shouldn’t have gotten distracted, or indulged, no matter how hot he’d gotten over the summer. He was still, and always would be, your little brother’s best friend. 

Snap out of it, Y/N. 

“Jisung, what do you think you’re doing?” You snap at him and back to reality. 

His eyes narrow, drawn into a sharp expression that shouldn’t make your thighs weak, but it does. “What am I doing? What are you doing, Y/N?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

“That guy, Y/N.” He spits your name, a low growl that tightens your chest, “You’ve lost your damn mind if you think I’m just going to stand by while you flirt with some guy.”

You scoff, unable to deny it. Yes, you had been flirting with that guy, but honestly, it was just a distraction to take your mind off the fact that you’d just let your brother’s childhood friend fuck you six ways to Sunday. 

“You’re being ridiculous," you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “You have no right to act like this.”

His nostrils flare again, and he steps closer, invading your space. You instinctively take a step back—because this is how it happened last time, his stupid muscular body and obnoxious height inching towards you (minus the argument.)

"Ridiculous? You think it’s ridiculous that I care? That I don’t want to see you with someone like him?"

“Someone like him? You don’t know anything about him.”

Jisung tongues the inside of his cheek, inhaling sharply before muttering, “He had his hands all over you in the middle of a kitchen. Pretty sure that makes him an automatic asshole.”

You can feel your heart racing, but you refuse to back down. "You’re getting jealous over one guy after we—after a one-time thing, Jisung. It’s so childish!"

The moment that singular word leaves your mouth, you see a shift in his expression. His eyes darken, and there’s a flicker of something raw and primal lingering in his irises. Desire, maybe lust, but definitely determination.

Without a word, Jisung moves toward you in a blur of motion, his hand snapping out to grip your wrist, yanking you back before you even have time to react. You stumble, your back slamming against the door with a harsh thud. Thank God, there’s a party downstairs because you’re certain the impact was savage enough to be heard if not for the music.

Your breath hitches in your throat as he cages you in, his body pressing against yours, his chest rising and falling with the force of his breath. His hands bracket your face, fingers digging into the wood behind you, holding you there, trapped beneath his gaze, trapped beneath his body. 

"Childish, huh?" His voice drops an octave, and you can feel the heat, the anger, the hunger, radiating off him. "I’ll show you childish."

It’s a threat, a rise to your challenge, and said with an edge that makes your stomach flutter—against your will.

You meet his eyes, refusing to show any fear, though your heart races in your chest. “What, you think you can intimidate me?”

A corner of his mouth curls up in a half-smirk. "I know I can do a lot more than that."

Before you can respond, his face closes the distance between you, lips crashing against yours in a kiss that feels like a challenge—not the passion he offered earlier, just pure desperation and need. His hands grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, his body pressing harder against yours like he can’t get close enough. 

You can’t tell if it’s anger or the desperate need to prove something that drives him, but the way his touch grows possessive leaves no room for argument. You don’t want to argue though, not when his other hand trails down your thigh, hiking up your dress, and one calloused finger slips beneath the black lace of your panties to find your swollen, aching clit.

You draw in a shallow breath, one that only fuels his cocky grin as he nuzzles into your neck, his warm breath skimming along the delicate curve of your nape before trailing to your ear. His finger continues to rub slow, so painfully slow, circles into your clit.

“Was I childish when I finger fucked you to orgasm with Chenle just next door? Was I childish when I pounded this pretty pussy into your pillows? Or was I childish when—”

“J-Jisungie,” you gasp, voice trembling with need, cutting him off. But who could blame you? The slow, deliberate motion of his fingers, paired with the weight of his words, had you aching for more—more of him, more of this, anything with friction. 

His blunt nails dig into the tender flesh of your thigh, possessive and unyielding, as his lips skim the sensitive spot where your neck meets your collarbone. A low growl rumbles in his chest, vibrating against your skin. 

“Don’t call me that,” he mutters, rough and low, sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m not a fucking kid.”

You let out a soft whimper of submission, your legs trembling as he edges them apart, giving himself better access to the spot you need him most—the spot he knows you need him most.

“Is that what this is about?” you manage to ask, though your voice is shaky, breathless.

He doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he nuzzles deeper into the curve of your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. He doesn’t need to respond because his fingers do it for him, their pace quickening against your sensitive nerves.

You can’t believe this is happening—again. Chenle would kill you both if he found out, but the thought isn’t enough to stop you. Your hips buck instinctively, meeting the rhythm of his long, slender fingers as they work relentlessly to coax an orgasm out of you.

“Ji–We can’t do this,” you whisper, though the words come out weak, entirely unconvincing.

His lips pause against your neck, but his fingers don’t. If anything, they press harder, toying against your clit, drawing a choked moan from your lips as he hovers just close enough for you to feel his breath.

“Oh, so we can’t do this,” there’s venom in his voice, as his finger sinks lower until it’s circling your entrance, “but you were ready to let that asshole do this to you in the kitchen.”

Your breath catches in your throat, a mix of shame and defiance flaring within you. “It’s not the same.”

“Exactly,” he growls, his fingers curling inside you in a way that makes your knees buckle. “It’s not the same, because he’ll never touch you the way I do. He’ll never make you feel the way I do, never get the fucking chance.”

“Jisung—” you start, but he cuts you off, his free hand gripping your jaw, forcing your gaze to meet his. His eyes are dark, intense, and filled with something lust. 

“Tell me to stop,” he challenges, lips brushing dangerously close to yours. He doesn’t kiss you, but nips at the bottom of your plush lip. “Tell me you don’t want this, Y/N, and I’ll stop.”

You try to form the words, to muster any resistance, but they melt into a moan as his fingers press against that spot deep inside you, leaving your legs trembling. It’s almost sick, really—how well he knows your body, as if he’s memorized every reaction, every weak spot. Like he’s studied the blueprint of you, mastered it, and has no intention of ever letting anyone else have access to it.

“That’s what I thought,” he mutters, his smirk sharp and sinister. His lips finally crash against yours, stealing what little resolve you had left.

His kiss is hungry, consuming, as if he’s trying to prove a point with every press of his mouth, clash of teeth, and every curl of his fingers. And the worst part is, he’s right—you do want this. You want him.

“Say it,” he demands against your lips. “Say you want me.”

Your hands clutch desperately at his shoulders, body arching into him as his touch overwhelms you. The fight leaves you entirely, your resistance crumbling to dust. “I want you,” you confess, the words spilling from your lips before you can even think to stop them.

He grins against your mouth. “Good, because you’re mine.”

And he’s going to make damn sure you know it. He’s going to make sure everyone knows it—especially that fucking asshole who touched you. You’re his. 

Jisung finds the length of your neck again, his skilled fingers continuing their work on your pussy. He knows you’re close, knows exactly how to draw this out of you until you’re cumming, all while he’s branding your skin with purple bruises across your neck. Call it an ego thing, but knowing some part of him will be etched onto your skin has his cock throbbing, his bulge swelling in his jeans just from the thought of you belonging to him—even if it’s only temporary. Jisung doesn’t care. He’ll keep doing this until it’s permanent, until your mind finally catches up, and you realize you belong to him, just as much as he belongs to you.

“For someone who was so insistent that we can’t do this, you have no problem making a mess on my fingers, noona,” he coos, his whispers brushing against your skin. “I can hear how wet you are, all for me, yeah?”

He’s a cocky fucker, and he knows it.

“Ji—please,” you whine, your body moving in sync with his, desperate to push yourself over the edge. Jisung laughs, the vibration of it shooting through you straight to your core. His fingertips dig into your pelvis, halting your movements because he’s the one in control. He’s the one with something to prove.

“You wanna cum, noona?” he asks, almost mockingly. “Want me to make you cum?”

You nod eagerly, desperation etched across your features. Yes, you want it—no orgasm could ever compare to the one you know he can give you.

Jisung pulls away from your neck, his pupils blown wide as he admires the art painted across your skin—his mark. He’s never been one for art, never understood what people meant by seeing a message in a painting, but as his fingers trace the deep red imprints of his mouth, he understands exactly what this piece of skin says: mine.

His fingers plunge deeper inside your cunt, the steady rhythm driving you wild. He curls them just right, his touch grazing that rough patch inside you that makes you gasp, your breath catching and lips parting. 

He smirks, his eyes never leaving yours as he mouths words of praise and instructions. At least, you think he’s mouthing them—your mind is fogged, overwhelmed by the wave of pleasure crashing over you, the only sound you can focus on is the buzzing of your orgasm, your cries and the way his name spills from your lips in a frantic, desperate whisper.

"Such a good fucking girl," he murmurs when your high starts to fade, voice low with approval. "My good fucking girl."

Maybe it’s the post-climax haze, your mind still swimming in fog, but your arms find their way around Jisung’s neck, pulling him down to crash your lips against his. He’s caught off guard, just as much as you are—you're not one to initiate, and he hadn’t expected more. He’d already made his point clear: he knows your body, he knows how to make you feel good, how to make you cum.

But here you are, nipping at his lip, devouring his mouth with a hunger that catches you both by suprise. And when you whisper a soft, "Fuck me again, please, Jisung," he's done for.

"My girl is so impatient and greedy, huh?" He tsks, but it's more to regain his composure than anything. He’d almost cum in his pants at the sight of you begging him to fuck you, like some horny teenager. But his determination to prove he’s not the boy you grew up with keeps him grounded.

He hoists you up effortlessly, his hands gripping the underside of your ass as your legs instinctively wrap around his body. With ease, he carries you to the bed, dropping you onto it with a predatory gleam in his eyes. As he climbs over you, his gaze darkens with hunger, every movement clear, saying one thing: he's going to devour you.

"Such a dirty girl, letting your brother’s friend fuck you twice in one night," he teases, his hands slowly working to peel the dress from your body. When he sees you’ve been wearing no bra underneath, your nipples fully exposed and standing at attention instantly, a low curse slips from his lips. 

He could admire your body for hours—he hadn’t had the chance to earlier because the stakes felt higher then. But for you, the moment is urgent. You need him—all of him—inside you, now. Maybe that’s why you decide to taunt him.

“I can always get someone else to do it if you don’t want to.”

“Watch it,” he warns, as his grip tightens on you. His eyes darken with possessiveness, a wave of jealousy flickering in his eyes. The thought of someone else touching you like this, even as a joke, triggers something primal inside him.

Without another word, Jisung sheds his own clothes, hands moving to your thighs, spreading them apart with a firm, controlled movement. His breath hitches as he stares down at you, so fucking beautiful, so fucking perfect, so fucking his.

“Made to take my cock,” he mutters, giving you a moment to adjust. You nod softly, the sensation of him filling every part of you dulling every lingering ache. 

He circles the head of his cock at your entrance, teasing you as payback for that little comment, before slowly sinking into you, inch by inch. Your eyes roll back at the delicious stretch, your body yielding to him as he fits into you so perfectly. So big, so deep, so yours.

It isn’t until he’s buried deep inside you, balls against your skin, that a groan escapes both of you.

He doesn't hold back, his groans raw and needy. He wants you to hear him—hear how good you make him feel, how desperate he's been for you, for this, how much he’s craved you for years. Every sound, every groan, he wants it etched in your memory. He wants you to remember him when you think about any other man—your first boyfriend, or the guy who took you to prom, and especially the flings you had on spring break.

He wants to be the only man who makes you come apart. The only one you grip with those pretty nails, scraping his back as if marking him, your own little claim to match his purple marks. 

Jisung has always had a soft spot for you, but the way he fucks is anything but soft. This is desperate, driven, a reminder that only he can make you feel this way—only he will. His thrusts are hard, dominating, consuming, each one a claim, marking you as his in the most primal way and you love it.

He knows you love it—the way your pussy clenches around him, fluttering rhythmically, milking his own orgasm from him with every squeeze. Sloppy, deep, and abrupt, his resolve twists tighter inside his stomach. His grip on your hips tightens and he drives into you with relentless, unyielding force, chasing his high. 

He leans down, his breath hot against your ear. “My pretty girl,” he growls. “Only mine.”

You can barely respond, the pleasure building so intensely that all you can do is cling to him, your fingernails digging into his pale skin, feeling every part of him take control. Each thrust pushes you closer to an edge you’ve never felt before, your stomach coiling tightly, a delicious tension threatening to snap.

“Say it,” he demands, his voice low and filled with heat, his pace never slowing. “Say you’re mine.”

Your breath hitches, body trembling as the tension in your core reaches its peak. “Yours,” you whisper, but it’s enough to make him groan in satisfaction.

Suddenly, the world around you blurs as the pleasure overwhelms you. Your body responds, the waves crashing over you as your eyes roll. A choked cry escapes, and a rush of wetness unlike anything you’ve felt before floods your body. 

Your hands fly to your face in embarrassment, but Jisung doesn’t let you hide. He watches you, eyes dark,  filled with awe and pride, as he takes in the fact that he’s the one who’s just made you squirt.

“How’s that for childish?” he murmurs with a smirk, the words dripping with possessiveness.

And with one final thrust, he drives into you, his body shuddering as he reaches his own release, spilling inside of you.

“Oh, and by the way,” he murmurs breathlessly, lips brushing against your ear, “there’s no way this is just a one-time thing, Y/N.”

[thebroccolination]

Hi Key, your post is the second I've seen that hinted at Joss but without further explanation. He generally has a positive public perception and I only know him from 3WBF (which I liked), so I'm curious where this shift in perception is coming from recently.

Would you mind making a post or directing me to where I can learn more about his general...situation.

I apologize if this is intrusive since I know you don't like to engage in Fandom Drama and like to keep your space positive, but I don't have XTwitter and his Tumblr tag is usually quite dead.

Thank you in advance!

Why I Don't Fuck with Joss: An Extremely Academic Essay of Words and Screenshots

Hi Anon!

I normally would have DM'd you an answer to this, but since you sent the ask anonymously and you were very kind in how you asked, I didn't want to ignore you.

However, two things:

I do generally make it a policy to keep my negative personal thoughts about certain actors to private conversations or, y'know, Discord servers, just to keep it off public platforms where toxicity is already rampant. In this case, though, I think the situation is interesting enough to comment on. (Plus, y'know, I'm amazed he was even managing a comeback when he's been known to Be Like This for years.)

I didn't get a lot of primary sources for this post because quite frankly I don't like Joss and I don't want to look at his face any more than I already have. However, friends who've been following this more closely than I have were able to verify that there are sources out there for everything I'm going to mention. Just, y'know, don't use me or this post as a source. This isn't one of my Citations Included Posts, this is just a Why I Don't Fuck with This Guy Post.

So, for context, I made this post last month, and someone made a more explicitly worded reblog here that's honestly better if you're going in without any context.

Essentially, Joss has had a dodgy reputation for years, but I think because fan turnover is high in interfandom and he's never been in a BL series before, most interfans just know Joss as A Tall Man Who Likes Sportsball.

But when I got into Thai BL back in 2020, Joss was one of the first actors I heard of as ~Problematique~ so I looked into him, and what I learned made me go, "Ew," so I just keenly ignored him from then on. (General gross stuff like the Domundi boob-grabbing prank and some assorted Dudebro comments about women. I don't remember specifics anymore because he was barely on my radar, but a friend at the time who'd been in fandom longer basically told me, "Yeah, that's Joss, lol.")

Interestingly, before JossGawin became a thing, most interfans were rooting for JossLuke, but I think given how vocally left-leaning Luke has proven to be, I wouldn't be surprised if Luke saw the prospect of tying his public reputation to Joss and went, "lol no goddamn thank you."

Gawin, on the other hand, seems to be down for whatever GMMTV wants him to do, so he probably just sees Joss as a colleague he makes out with (acting is a weird job). He went to high school in western Pennsylvania, he has white relatives on his dad's side, and he hangs out with the Gym Dudes of GMMTV, so I'm sure he's completely desensitized and is one of those guys who thinks, "Nah," but doesn't go so far as to say, "Not cool, dude." The Gawin Caskey Method seems to be: throw a basketball, make out with a dude on camera, go home and eat an edible. Dismount.

Unfortunately, even though Gawin's never really made any political statements or taken any major stand for the queer community, he's gained goodwill that some people are now calling into question because of Joss.

Anyway, apparently Joss used to follow Andrew Tate on Twitter until Tate was suspended, so it seems a lot of people assumed Joss unfollowed Tate, but yeah, between the sexist comments, Boobgate, and admiring Joe Rogan, that was enough for me to physically recoil from the screen when I saw the teaser for MGB.

Okay NOW, everything from this point onward is new stuff I've learned over the past month that made me go, "Oh. So he's worse now."

Joss has apparently had that Joe Rogan quote pinned to his Twitter account since 2020, but people just shrugged it off because they like his man stomach or something? (I don't find him attractive, but even if I did, I truly don't understand how he made it this far. It feels like he's been pretty firmly canceled every year since I got here, honestly.)

I also didn't like him weight-shaming Gawin. There's some older clip of him calling Gawin fat, and I know in Asia it's more common to comment on other people's bodies and weight, but I also recently found out that he got Gawin a meat cake for his birthday because idk actual cake is for pussies? (Sorry, Anon, I was trying to aim for an objective tone but I abandoned it because I reeeally don't like this man.) And apparently a lot of JG fanservice is just Joss and Gawin at the gym so Joss can teach Gawin self-control or something? I've had their tag blocked from the beginning, so you'll have to look into that if you're curious.

Ah, and at some point in the last few months, Joss was apparently asked what his "type" is and he said something like "white, skinny English-speaking Europeans/Americans"(?) Which apparently made Asian women go, "Hey, c'mere real quick: good. Bye."

I also thought it was a huge red flag that Joss has been in the industry for years, and his domestic fanbase is still quite small. Others have pointed out that very few fan interactions with him are in Thai, and he's clearly courting a western audience both in his individual engagement and by partnering with a mixed American actor. When he did the LGBTQ+ panel last summer, apparently the reaction from Thai commenters was, "lmao why Joss?" not, "Oh yes, of course, Joss!"

So it seems like GMMTV has been trying to do a rebrand for Joss using Gawin and interfans more generally since Joss speaks English and interfans don't generally seek out the resources to do research. Remember last year when GMMTV announced that Y-MIND script competition? It was originally domestic only, but after Thai fans overwhelmingly went, "The contract terms here are wildly exploitative, so fuck off," GMMTV rereleased the promotional material in English and went, "HEY INTERFANS WANNA SEND US STUFF :D?"

That told me they really don't think especially highly of us.

On December 15th, someone pointed out that Joss didn't just follow Trump on Twitter, he also followed a ton of extreme alt-right accounts on Instagram. Not normal political figures, either. Obscure figures like Pearl, Candace Owens, that guy who was saying Your Body My Choice, and Andrew Tate's right-hand man, and more! Some of his fans tried to point out that he follows progressive Thai politicians, but as far as the American side, he only followed alt-right conservative accounts with zero liberal accounts.

Though, in fairness, someone did point out that Joss also follows famous progressive Democratic figures [checks notes] comedian Chris Rock and basketball player Stephen Curry.

So. Whoohoo for that, amirite?

Since Joss's fans weren't having much success defending him on their own, they threw some @'s at his account to get him to make some kind of statement that would somehow explain away why he was following a deep, deep alt-right fanatic like Pearl. (Spoiler: He didn't.)

The JossGawin International fan club even released the above statement to address the issue, then received such alarmingly vitriolic backlash from the JossGawin fandom for "betraying" Joss that the fanclub decided to deactivate entirely. (I have no idea if they reactivated or not, since I stopped keeping up with this whole debacle shortly afterward.)

One Thai(?) JossGawin fan actually seems to have used ChatGPT to create an English comment to chastise the fanclub for their lack of support in Joss's dire times:

Amusingly, rather than address his fans' concerns or unfollow any of the accounts causing the chaos, Joss instead just started deleting any comment on his Instagram that called on him to comment.

Five days later, he unfollowed 137 accounts. No idea how many of those were alt-right extremists and how many were just extra padding to make it look like a general cleanse, but it was at least fifty last I heard, and the fact that 1) it took him nearly a week to do anything but delete the comments calling him out, and 2) his first tweet after this whole mess was a quote-retweet of GMMTV's message welcoming Barcode into the company saying, "lol this kid looks like if me and Gawin had a baby" just goes to show how unthreatened he feels.

After all, Joss has been this way for years, and his upcoming series with Gawin is probably going to do numbers regardless. He's successfully rebuilt his stagnant career off the support of interfans, and he knows he'll be fine.

Even Foei has a show with Tay! We're all good here. \:D/

So yeah! That's why I don't fuck with Joss. \:D/

This'll be the last I say on Joss publicly.

I just figured I'd make one all-encompassing post so I can link back to this in case anyone asks why I'm not supporting any of Gawin's projects with Joss. It's a shame because I do really like Gawin, but this isn't even a hard choice for me to make.

Oh, and while we're on the subject: the director of MGB, Ark, is also Not a Good Dude by all accounts I've heard from multiple people who've interacted with him privately. I mean, he sure is queer, but he's also said to be a misogynist with some white-people-worshipping tendencies. He doesn't have the highest opinion of BL fandom in general, either, especially when you look back on his whole direction of IT'S NOT A BL Shadow. Just, y'know, another reminder that queer people aren't Virtuous or Evil by nature. We're a big ole clusterfuck of nuance, so you don't have to support MGB for Ark just because he's a queer man. I have zero proof that I can share publicly, so you don't have to take my word for it. Just, y'know, in case you were on the fence, I've heard he's a dick.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go write absolutely filthy gay porn to purify myself from writing Joss's name so many times.

[novannon]

Lonely.

I never ever felt this lonely before... Why in discord? That place was basically joy.

Sure i got it then all the sudden my life became hell, but i had friends there right?

...Not really many. we just talk then they leave. Sunny and Rei didn't really talk to me much either even though i spent my time with them.

The only ones i could really trust were Cara , Leaf, Akito Sophia and Azalea honestly....oh and my momma of course!!

When i was banned from that thing of a community , i felt empty.

..or so i thought.

On that time, i was working on what'd be happening with Kamizaka agency

After i was ungrounded, I luckily gave Cara Azalea, mom and Leaf my Tumblr, and i guess we could talk there. Also Sophia already had my Tumblr so I'll talk to her about wanting to kiss girls there ahahahdjwakcnm.. women

"I heard about Au roleplay blogs! It'd be cool to make one of that detective au of Project Sekai that ive been working on." I thought. And that was a good idea!

Tomiho was the first one i saw honestly, then we interacted.

It actually got people interested - I'm skipping the part with the flower princess an au because that thing was deleted.

I got in another friend disbanding so i thought about it then I made the Superhero Au.

"hehe, if i post this funny thing about An shapeshifting into Akito, I'll probably use this thing more." I did that,

"Can i make an akito account lol" ...That wasnt the exact message but, it made me surprised.

Someone was actually interested? I decided to let them.

...It grew.

And I made Hypnosis sekai out of a stupid idea...

Then Crimson came. I was excited to actually... Have people interested in my ideas.

Everything grew and came so quickly to the point of new year.

We all have may just known each other for months besides Azalea, Cara and Leaf but....

Im thankful.

The funny moments in the superhero au, the canaries in the hypnosekai au, the coffee stuff in Kamizaka...

They made me happy.

Was it cause it wasn't just some random friend break up? Drama? Vent? I didnt know how to feel.

..And this is where my message to you all comes.

Thank you, @rad-fire @starfrill (idk man i got braindead remembering ur user) @internetxstarz @crime-soncloud @ithappenedonroute66 @reazelf411 @the-depths-of-the-coral-sea @enanannnnn @mycutiemelody @phiaiso , I sadly cannot tag everyone here because they might not wanna get tagged but... This is also for the ones who weren't tagged.

Thank you for everything you've done for me... And I wanna give that all back to you! You all are amazing people. I thought i was never gonna feel at peace again. But i found out that many people in this community actually cared and wanted to see more of what I do, and I absolutely feel the same! I wanna do everything that is there with all of you. Please talk to me if you need anything and once again,

Thank you. :)

[singitforthegirls]

Love talkin to tattooed girls about my ideas for more tattoos. Or just other tattoed people in general.

I love tattoos and people with tattooes just tend to be hotter. Lol. Idk.

Tattoed & pierced people. 😍😍😍😍😍😍 So hot.

(Lol yes i was talkin to one in womens gym locker room after gym class. 🙈)

[lucabyte]

So does anybody else ever think about how Loop felt the need to demonstrate that the party's deaths wouldn't have any effect on the loops. I know I do but that's besides the point. Anyway I don't think Loop actually needs to bathe, they just like to feel included.

[sygneth]

game of deduction

[thevalleyoftriumph]

[reupload] copycat

[orphiclovers]

It's sort of implied Yoo Joonghyuk starts off every regression in his signature outfit already and I have. Headcanons on how that is possible.

It's explicitly stated in canon that his coat does not travel back to him when he regresses (kdj says so to sp), so the two possibilities are either he buys it as soon as possible and just does the first couple scenarios in a normal outfit (boring, unsupported by canon) or... he was already wearing the coat on the day the scenarios started. Which is what I think, and is more interesting. Since those coats already have so much narrative weight in yjh's story let me add a little more.

I think when Yoo Joonghyuk spawned into existence on the side of the road one day, he was wearing the full WoS outfit, coat included. Because, what else would the protagonist wear? This was the only outfit he was written in.

Eventually, he of course did buy normal clothes (in yoo mia side story, which happens a few years later, he wears 'an old jacket') but that coat he started off with with would have been one of the very few pieces of evidence of his supposed 'past' that he wanted to discover so badly. So even if he stopped wear it day-to-day, I think he wouldn't have gotten rid of it.

For years, A Black Infinite Dimention Space Coat hangs in his closet, totally anachronistic in a pre-scenarios world. Like Yoo Joonghyuk himself.

It's important to note that on the day the scenarios started, Yoo Joonghyuk was taking the train to meet his parents for the first time. Perhaps he felt the need to dress up, and what better way than the unusual clothing he wore on the first day he remembers? He would have finally gotten the answers he had been looking for - perhaps even to the comparatively insignificant question of why he was wearing this coat when he forgot his past.

Well, his parents house was empty, but he still gets the answer to his questions eventually, when at 7 p.m on the ride back, the scenarios start.

In a bitter irony, that outfit he chose to wear on that day would be what he wore for the next thousand regressions. But of course, it never could have happened any other way.

[bandtrees]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[zhouxiangs]

SASA'S TOP 5 QLS OF 2024

Love for Love's Sake 연애 지상주의 구역 / My Stand-In ตัวนาย ตัวแทน / The Time of Fever 내 손끝에 너의 온도가 닿을 때 / Century of Love ปาฏิหาริย์รักร้อยปี / Spare Me Your Mercy การุณยฆาต

[i-may-be-an-emu]

WHAT AM I MEANT TO SAY WHEN PEOPLE ASK ABOUT MY HOBBIES LIKE OH. IM VERY OBSESSED WITH AN IMPROV GROUP FROM LONDON. YEAH WHEN I THINK ABOUT THEM I SMILE LIKE A MANIAC AND I’VE CRIED BECAUSE THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME MULTIPLE TIMES. WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?

[chiquilines]

op you are the only person on this entire website feeding me Miryumi. Bless, and keeep making more jbsjhbcsbcjkdzb its so fucking gpood and ima soa hungry

My one job is keeping the miryumi community well fed and by god am i committed

[mirensiart]

I have 3 ideas for comics for the pain sharing linked universe au, two are bittersweet and one is dumb/funny, but I'm stuck trying to decide which one to draw first 🤔

Both bittersweet comics are, somehow (and completely accidentally) twilight centric lmao like *hits twilight on the back* this baby can fit so much physical and emotional pain

[ollyollyaxe]

im not gonna ask how ya got that shiner, but baby i'll be damned if you don't wear it well

[relaxxattack]

rereading the hivebent commentary makes me so annoyed that people are never really willing to analyze the actual effects that alternian culture clearly had on every troll, especially the highbloods. pretty much the only troll who ever actually gets taken in the context of her upbringing is vriska.

no one ever seems willing to think about the character arcs of trolls like equius and terezi, who are also bluebloods with extremely hypocritical and toxic understandings of the people around them-- equius is boiled down to a gross creep who is just like that naturally and definitely didn't get it from his society in any way, whilst terezi is scrubbed of virtually all her flaws and turned into a strange sort of based love interest character who is all about being gay and too cool to be tricked by any of the alternian propaganda. quadrants? classism? how silly! terezi would never believe in stupid shit like that. she's quirky! and GAY!

despite the fact that equius and terezi both obviously have much, much more to their personalities than that-- and the alternian empire is informing way more dangerous things about these kid's beliefs than "kiss annoying people".