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ugh-yoongi · 10 months

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a word from our sponsors | knj

you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it. 🎙️

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: podcast, friends to lovers au; crack, smut, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact. warnings: parasocial relationships galore, a m*n with a p*dcast, author abuses italics, swearing, alcohol, reader uses a pseudonym/nickname (piper) because writing the meta fanfiction scene would've been too weird without one and i refuse to use y/n, dialogue-heavy but it is a fic about a podcast, everyone is down horrendous, mentions of social media & fake r*ddit posts, ex-boyfriend yoongi but in a good, healthy way. let me know if i missed anything but mostly this is just two goofballs not realizing they're in love with one another. smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex (fiction), protected vaginal sex (nonfiction), a lil squirting, mild degradation, mentions of a p*ss kink but there is no actual pee i promise (...lest?), i didn't intend to write size kink but it's namjoon so it just showed up anyway, slight dom!joon, everyone orgasms. wordcount: 17.5k credits: this was entirely inspired by that one episode of the basement yard where frankie reads the smut fic of him and joe, so credits to both that author and that podcast. spotify, for their podcast name generator. astro-seek for helping me drag namjoon astrologically. an extra special, gigantic thanks to @effortandmore for writing the meta fanfic (3k of it, no less!) and not batting an eye when i said it could have pee in it as a joke. this is as much yours as it is mine. finally, @hot-soop and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me and telling me i'm funny. author's note: happy birthday, indigo! here i am to validate every fear you've ever had that the people you write porn about may one day read it. live and on air. :)

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years.

You can learn a lot about a guy in that amount of time.

None of it is especially salacious. You know all about his family and his dog and the brand of recycled paper towels he insists on buying in bulk. You know what he’d written his grad school thesis on and what he’d looked like in the thick of it, when he was staving off his fifth mental break of the week. You know how fidgety he gets when it’s closing in on Friday night and he’s got a date—how much he stresses over which restaurant to pick, which cologne, which expensive cashmere sweater to wear.

You also know what the internet thinks about him. Intimately.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is peak husband material. He has cheeks ripe for pinching and thighs small countries would go to war to defend. He has a lap that doubles as a seat and dimples people want to get baptized in. He has Instagram selfies with hundreds of thousands of likes and comment sections full of intelligible keysmashes, especially the ones he posts from the gym.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is a man written by a woman.

Looking at him now, you aren’t sure that’s true, you think people just need to raise their standards. Namjoon is just… Namjoon. He’s intelligent and kind and up to date on modern feminist theory, is all. And, sure, maybe in the current political landscape that puts him far above the rest of men, but the way the internet has latched onto him is a little concerning.

“There’s another post about whether or not we’re dating,” you say, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

sooo let’s be real here, we ALL think they’re dating, right?? Posted by u/pod-shipper 2 hours ago

Just like he always does, Namjoon huffs out a soft laugh, makes his way around to your side of the table. Puts his large hands on your shoulders as he leans in close to read from your screen, snorting every time he reads a sentence he finds particularly amusing. Whichever cologne he’d chosen this morning is, admittedly, very nice.

It’s sooo obvious, especially in the episodes they film and post on YouTube. The way they look at each other?? I don’t even look at my HUSBAND like that! (+1264) ↳ omg ur sooooo right! i could MAYBE buy that they aren’t full on dating, but they’ve def at least slept together. Namjoon is so 🔥🔥🔥 (+791) ↳ um how can namjoon be dating her when he’s already married to me 😌💅 (+3) ↳ For the millionth time, can we not speculate on their personal lives? This is weird and reinforces really harmful ideas that men and women can’t just be friends. (-51)

“How come they never talk about how hot you are?”

You can tell by the look on Namjoon’s face that he hadn’t meant to say that—or, if he did, he didn’t mean to say it like that, with an entire pout, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. “Cursed to be ugly and dumb,” you joke to ease the sudden tension, reading the comment that simply says you’d have to be the dumbest person alive to not sleep with Namjoon.

He scrunches his nose at that. Returns to his side of the table. “Yeah, I don’t think so, lots of people haven’t slept with me.” Starts to unpack all the gear from his bag before he says, “Hey, all that stuff—does it bother you?”

“What do you mean?” you answer, the corner of a protein bar stuck in your mouth. Namjoon always insists on recording at the most inconvenient times.

“People thinking we’re together,” he clarifies.

You shrug. “I dunno. Not really. Comes with the territory, I think, not to mention how much you love to overshare—”

“Hello?”

“I’m just saying,” you retort, hands raised in self-defense. “There really was no need for you to mention you blew your grad school stipend on a porn scam.” Namjoon looks affronted, like he can’t believe you’d stoop so low as to bring that up. “Or that you lost your virginity at fifteen.”

“We have a relationship podcast,” he states simply. “That’s kind of what we do, right? Talk about relationships? And the spectrum of human sexuality is part of that.”

You slump back in your chair as you quirk an eyebrow. “No one said it wasn’t, I just said you overshare. Which you do.”

“And that’s why there’s a dozen Reddit posts a week discussing whether or not we’re dating? Because I overshare?”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s the kind of behavior that leads to parasocial relationships. People latch onto that shit. Makes them think they’re your friend.” He glares. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right. It’s bad enough you’ve word-vomited all this highly personal information about yourself, but to not even do it under a pseudonym? It’s like you’re begging for trouble.”

Another comment he doesn’t even realize he’s making: “I don’t beg. For anything.”

To this day, you’re not sure why Namjoon asked you to co-host a podcast with him.

His reasoning had been simple: “You’re my best friend and we don’t agree on anything.” Hard to argue with that. Namjoon has seemingly endless patience, even in the face of things he shouldn’t entertain, and you… do not, to put it simply.

You’re not a cold person. Your fuse isn’t short. You’re just a little jaded, is all. Have far less propensity for bullshit than Namjoon does, so the two of you play well off each other. You end a sentence with a well-punctuated full stop and Namjoon’s right behind you to sigh and say maybe you shouldn’t be so hasty, not everything in the world can be so black or white.

Except some things are. Somewhere along the way, the podcast—which Namjoon had affectionately named Place Him Gently in the Garbage, even though some people should be shoved in there with force—had picked up a following. A big one. And now, every week, you’re inundated with emails ranging in severity. Sometimes people just want to vent after their tenth bad date in a row or share funny stories, and Namjoon lets you take the lead on those, but sometimes it’s a little more serious. That’s where Namjoon shines, all that endless patience, and people love him for it.

“What’s on the agenda today?” he asks, accepting a thick stack of papers from Jungkook.

Ah, Jungkook.

You aren’t sure what he actually does. Some kind of social media manager, which is obvious from the wildly out-of-context clips he posts of you to TikTok, and it’s his responsibility to go through the thousands of emails you get from listeners, but aside from that all you’ve got are your suspicions that he just sticks around to swindle Namjoon out of more and more money.

“I’m in a silly goofy mood,” comes Jungkook’s reply, and you let out a witch cackle as Namjoon winces. Nothing good ever comes of Jungkook being in a silly goofy mood, and that’s quite alright by you.

Fifteen minutes later finds you with a camera in your face that you greet with an unamused, flat stare. Jungkook is used to it by now. Just films for a few seconds before turning his attention to an unaware Namjoon. Head down, pen and highlighter going a mile a minute as he pores over the stack of papers with all the doggedness and eagle-eyed stare of a literature professor.

That’s the thing about Namjoon—he takes this really seriously. So do you, but not in the ways Namjoon does. He’s all skill and determination and you’re color commentary. It works. It clearly works, so you aren’t too bent out of shape about it, but sometimes you worry. Namjoon takes this really seriously and sometimes you worry that he takes it too seriously, that he carries the burdens and worries of all these strangers, that he’s trying to solve and fix things that aren’t his responsibility to solve and fix.

So he takes it really seriously and you don’t take it as seriously as you maybe should, and everything is by design. Balanced.

Twenty minutes later finds you staring across the table at Namjoon, who asks, “Are you ready?” and does one last equipment check before he launches into, “Welcome back to another episode of Place Him Gently in the Garbage with Namjoon and Piper. What’s new with you, Pipe? Any fun news?”

Pipe. It drives you nuts. Feels like nails on a chalkboard. “I see you almost every single day,” you respond dryly. “But for the sake of entertainment, I’m thinking about getting a cat.”

“A cat?” Namjoon parrots, and his eyebrows disappear beneath his fringe because he knows what that means.

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, but you’ve known him even longer.

Since your first year of college, which is also when you met Yoongi. Yoongi, your ex. Yoongi, the person you’d been with for six years and had planned a life around. Yoongi, now one of your closest friends, because the two of you still love one another but no longer in that way, which is fine. But also—Yoongi, allergic to cats.

So, yeah. Namjoon knows what that means, and he has the good sense not to mention it. Unlike him, you’re intensely private and keep your cards close to your chest. Your listeners don’t even know your real name, let alone that you’d gone through a breakup a year ago.

“What kind of cat?” he continues, like his entire world hasn’t just been turned upside-down.

You shrug. “Eh, I don’t know. Probably one that’s been in the shelter a long time, I guess. I’m not too fussy, you know?”

“Right, a cat is a cat,” Namjoon says, thinking he’s done something. You and Jungkook gasp at the same time. “What? Why are you giving me that look?”

“Because that’s a fucked up thing to say! A cat is not just a cat. They have little personalities, just like people. You’ve got—”

“But you just said you’re not fussy,” he interjects. “And I know they have personalities and that you have to find one that suits your lifestyle! Like, you can’t have one of those really cool cats that likes to go kayaking and shit, it’d never work—”

“What does that mean? Why couldn’t I have a cool cat?”

“Hey, all you cool cats and kittens,” Namjoon mocks, and you can tell he thinks he’s done something again, but his impression falls flatter than flat. An awkward silence fills the studio. He coughs. “Anyway. Do you have pictures?”

“Yeah. I also have a list of candidates ranked by how cool their names are. Number five, Casserole.”

“That’s cute.”

“Mhm,” you agree, “but Casserole is a kitten, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“They do say you should adopt kittens in pairs.”

“And that’s how they get you. You want one kitten and they talk you into two, and before you know it you’ve got, like, twelve cats. Number four, Party Girl.”

“Sick name.”

“Number three, Toddler.”

“Toddler?”

“Number two, Flat.”

“Just Flat? Understandable.”

“And, finally, number one: Human Torch.”

“Yoooo.” Namjoon laughs. “You have to adopt Human Torch. Let me see.” You pull up a picture on your phone and hand it over. “Okay, for our listeners—Human Torch is a young, male Domestic Short Hair. He has stripes. I don’t know what that’s called.”

“Tabby,” Jungkook chimes in.

“Jungkook says he’s a tabby. He’s cute. Adopt him.”

You return your phone to your pocket. “Maybe. I still think I want an older cat, but I’ll consider it. What about you, though? Any new dating horror stories to share?”

Ah, the dating horror stories. Your most dedicated shippers are convinced they’re fake, that Namjoon just makes them up on the spot to keep them off your trail. If only. Not in the if only they were fake and Namjoon and I were actually dating kind of way, but the holy shit one of my closest friends is a fucking disaster and it’s a little embarrassing kind of way.

“Not really,” he answers. “I’ve got a date this Friday, though. Trying to decide if dinner and a movie is too boring.”

“It’s a classic for a reason. What are you gonna see, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3?”

“Three?” Namjoon emphasizes, truly sounding scandalized. “Since when are there three? I haven’t even seen one or two.”

“Okay, first of all, the original is a classic and it’s a crime you haven’t seen it.”

“And second of all?”

“There is no second of all. Repeat point one.”

He snorts. “I’m not gonna see that, anyway. Maybe the re-release of Howl’s Moving Castle.”

“Subbed or dubbed, though?”

“Are you trying to get me canceled?”

“Absolutely.”

“I like both,” he chickens out. “Now, let’s stop wasting time and get to the point of the show.”

“Talking about cats is a waste of time?”

“I—no, we’ve just got a lot on the agenda today.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there’s lots to talk about on the celebrity front—”

Namjoon loves this part. As esteemed and educated as he is, not even he is immune to good old celebrity gossip. (Inside him there are two wolves.) Lives for it. Texts you about it at all hours of the night. Sends you links to Reddit threads with hundreds of comments. Has more opinions on Celebrity Big Brother than he does on Ludwig Wittgenstein, sometimes, and when that’s the case you know you’re in for a long evening. You’ve never even seen an episode of Celebrity Big Brother.

But Namjoon loves it, so you’ve become fond of it by association. Reminds you a bit of Yoongi and his love for sports and sports anime.

“—one should we start with?”

“Whatever you want,” you answer, because you haven’t been paying a lick of attention and you aren’t sure it matters anyway. Namjoon can talk to a wall on a good day, but he’s an entirely different beast once mundane, innocuous celeb gossip gets involved.

And even though you hadn’t been paying attention, it seems like this was the right thing to say, because Namjoon smiles so wide his dimples crater his face. “Cool. Let’s start with Taryn Manning. Did you see that bizarre—”

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who is Taryn Manning?”

Namjoon looks a little dumbstruck. Even Jungkook’s arching an eyebrow at you. “Are you serious? She was in Orange is the New Black and Crossroads.”

“The Britney Spears movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Weird, okay. Continue.”

Your co-host shoots you a very pointed look. “I will, thanks. Anyway, she posted a video on social media talking about this affair she had with a married man. Like, she pulled over on the side of the road to record this. Said she can’t stand the man’s wife because she called her a quote-unquote lunatic.”

“I—huh, thought we weren’t supposed to say that anymore. Alright.”

“But wait, it gets even more bizarre. Listen to this quote—and this is direct. This is a direct quote from the video, I can’t stop thinking about it: ‘Don’t you ever threaten me when your husband came to me to get his butthole licked.’ Can you—”

“What? Namjoon, what in the fuck—”

“It’s crazy, right? She was gonna buy this guy a boat.”

“Namjoon, this is a family show, you can’t just talk about ass-eating unprompted.”

“No it’s not.”

“Well, you still shouldn’t talk about ass-eating unprompted. It’s unbecoming.”

“You’re unbecoming,” Namjoon fires back, because he can’t help it. The words are out of his mouth before he can think. “Sorry, that was out of line.”

You sigh. Know whatever look Jungkook is catching on his camera right now is exasperated and pointed, the corners of your mouth probably tugged up just a hint. “Unbecoming, like I said.” Namjoon scoffs. “Anyway, so this actress was gonna buy this married guy a boat and was eating his ass?”

“Yeah. Apparently it was her friend’s husband? They all went to a Taylor Swift concert together.”

“Jesus, this keeps getting worse. Big year for Hollywood cheaters.”

“It is, right? Cheaters and divorces. Something in the water, I guess.”

“I saw the astrology girlies saying a bunch of planets are in retrograde, so—”

“Can you explain that to me? Like, what does it mean for a planet to be in retrograde? Why is it causing divorces?”

“I don’t know, I’m not an astrology girlie. That’s why I said the astrology girlies. What are your big three, though?”

“What’s that?”

“Your sun, moon, and rising signs.”

“How do I find that out?”

“Ugh,” you intone, “don’t worry about it, I’ll do it myself. What time were you born?”

Namjoon rattles off a time.

You grab your laptop. Pull up the page, type in Namjoon’s date of birth and birthplace, and wait. Then you’re staring at a circle with a bunch of lines in it that also don’t make a lick of sense to you. You roll your lips to keep from laughing and school your voice into something deadly serious. “Bad news: it says you’re a virgin.”

“Virgo,” Namjoon corrects, not taking the bait. “I already knew that.”

You scroll a little further down the page. “Your moon is in Sagittarius. Oh god, listen to this, they’ve got you pegged: ‘The greatest need is to always search for something. In order to feel safe you need a philosophy or belief’—”

“Haaa, that’s not—”

“—’You need to have a goal or mission that gives your life meaning. Your faith must be voluntary and it is a paradox that fighting against dogmas may lead you to other dogmas.’ Yeah, that’s you.”

“That could apply to anyone,” he argues. “There are seven-billion people on this planet; I’d imagine a sizable amount of them would say that also describes them.”

“Hm, sounds like your faith in astrology is not yet voluntary. Did you know you’re a Scorpio rising?”

“No. I’m sure you’re gonna tell me all about it, though.”

You smile. “Correct. ‘People with Scorpio on the Ascendant need to fight against dark and destructive power in their life.’ Is that true?”

“Yeah, you’re the dark and destructive power. You keep sidetracking me and we need to get to the point of the podcast.” He grabs the stack of papers Jungkook had given him. Looks more highlighter than paper, if you’re being honest. “I guess Jungkook thought we needed a lighthearted kind of day.”

“That was nice of him, considering what he gave us last week. I guess we’re allowed to have faith in humanity today.”

To your left, Jungkook scoffs.

“Alright,” Namjoon starts, putting on his Very Serious Podcast Guy voice, “first up we’ve got a question from one of our listeners in Canada. It says, ‘Hi, Piper and Namjoon. I recently agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She said he was a bit old-fashioned but really talked him up so I thought I was in good hands—and then he showed up to get me in a ‘67 GTO and exclusively referred to me as doll. He didn’t use my name once. I’m torn, because he was really nice and I had a good time otherwise, but this is weird, right? Should I see him agai—’”

“No,” you interject.

“Can I finish?”

“You don’t have to. This guy sounds greasy.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “And why is that?”

“Ignoring the fact that this guy has arguably one of the lamest classic cars around, he didn’t use their name once? Not once, in all the time they spent together? That’s really disrespectful.”

“Some people are just pet name people,” Namjoon argues.

“With absolute strangers, though? It’s really giving the impression that he didn’t even know it, not to mention some people are uncomfortable with pet names. The whole shtick is super lame.”

“I agree it sounds a bit misguided, but—”

Ignoring Namjoon, you say, “Sorry you had to go on a date with the ghost of less-cool James Dean. Into the garbage he goes.”

And, just like he’s done a million times before, Namjoon rolls his eyes and says, “If you really like this guy and want to see him again, a bit of communication will go a long way. Tell him the pet name made you uncomfortable—if it did—and offer to pick him up for the next date. I don’t think he’s completely destined for the garbage, yet.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have a license. You probably think a 1967 Pontiac GTO is the pinnacle of romance. That’s probably like picking someone up on a Specialized Aethos to you, eh?”

“That’s a fifteen-thousand dollar bike, I’ll have you know.”

You groan. “Oh my god.”

Ep: #183 - Namjoon is a Virgin

I think Namjoon had the right idea on this one. Sure, the car can be considered lame, but I think a lot of men are deeply insecure and therefore overcompensate when it comes to dating. Women are hard to impress when they have unlimited options. You have to stand out, so I’m glad he advocated for him. Piper can come off like such a misandrist sometimes. (-649) ↳ just shut up bro namjoon would fuckin hate u (+204) ↳ Imagine caring about something like this when they’re getting a cat together 🙄 (+19)

You think about the cat thing for nearly a week.

Adopting a cat is certainly not the worst idea you’ve ever had, and truth be told it’s been a little lonely, living by yourself. No more Yoongi in your space; no more Holly. So, having a new little friend around might do you some good.

It’s just—

It’s a big commitment, and there’s also the dog sitting-shaped elephant in the room. Ending things on good terms means you’re still Yoongi’s second-choice sitter whenever he has to go out of town, and while you love Holly dearly (the two of you had adopted him together, after all), he’s a lot like his father in a lot of ways.

Should I get a cat, you type out, and it’s only been in Yoongi’s inbox a few seconds before the most unflattering picture you’ve ever taken of him is flashing across your screen.

“Are you dying?” you ask, because Yoongi doesn’t call you for much else.

And you already know what his response is going to be. “We’re all dying.”

“Lighten up, Yoongi. One might say being so existentially nihilistic before noon causes wrinkles.”

There’s a split-second pause. “It’s nine p.m.”

“Sure, but it’s before tomorrow’s noon, so it still counts.”

“Whatever. Listen, before you adopt that cat, I need a favor.”

“You going out of town again?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be long, though. A week at the most, five days if I’m lucky.”

“That’s fine, bring him over whenever. Yijeong’s busy?”

This pause is far, far longer. “No,” comes Yoongi’s eventual response, but it’s slow. Unsure. A two-letter word has never taken so long to say in the history of ever. “He’s, uh. Coming with me?”

Oh, you think. This is where your ex awkwardly and hesitantly breaks the news of his new relationship. You’ve known this day was coming, and this is what you get for staying friends with him. “This is a fanfiction plot,” you accuse. “Hot, mysterious man moves into a gaudy apartment complex after ending a long-term relationship and meets his equally-hot and mysterious neighbor and they fall in love.”

“I—that’s not—my apartment is not gaudy.”

“Yes it is. There’s a giant gold bust of a weird bird in the lobby.”

“Weird bird?” he parrots. “It’s a swan.”

“I see you’re not denying the in-love-with-your-neighbor accusations.”

“Am I on trial?” Yoongi retorts, and it’s such a Yoongi thing to say when what he means is, is this okay? He means, are we able to talk about this without it being weird? He means, I won’t ever say as much out loud, but your acceptance means a lot to me, and I’d like for you to give me this.

So you lower your voice and soften the edges because it’s not really something to joke about, and you say, “No, of course you’re not on trial,” and Yoongi knows what you mean. “And if you were, you'd get locked up for fifty years. You can’t lie for shit.”

There’s a beat of silence before he clears his throat, mutters a thanks that is so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “Send me pictures of the cats.”

Later on, once you’re freshly-showered and tucked into bed with a candle and a book (Eloge de l’amour by Alain Badiou at Namjoon’s insistence and request), your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi—

Yoongi: toddler is a fucking hilarious name for a cat but so is flat Yoongi: it’s a tie for me You: Okay well pick one 🙄 Yoongi: yijeong says get both You: Both???? Is he paying my vet bills? Yoongi: kinda out of line to proposition him for money. flat is also good with dogs, js You: If he’s now being raised by you two, my perfect, well-behaved son is probably long gone. Does he even count as a dog anymore? Yoongi: me and yijeong both say fuck off Yoongi: holly too. he says he doesn’t miss you anymore and he’s not coming over now Yoongi has added Yijeong to the group Yoongi has changed the group name to #ThirdWheelChat Yijeong: Please don’t drag me into this. Also I did not say “fuck off” You have changed the group name to People Who Have Seen Yoongi Naked Yoongi: fuck you

You should’ve known something was going on with Jungkook, because it’d started like this:

(When you and Namjoon started the podcast three years ago, it was in the living room of his apartment.

Surrounded by books and plants. He loved to record in the afternoons back then—Namjoon loved to say it was because of his grad school schedule, but you’ve always suspected he just wanted to preen in the golden hour light, much like he’s doing now.

“Is this really necessary?” Jungkook whines from his spot on the couch. He’s already swindled Namjoon out of two bags of microwavable popcorn and three cans of sparkling water. “It’s a Saturday afternoon; I could be doing something so much more fun than this.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Are you saying this isn’t fun?”

“Yeah. It sucks, actually. This could’ve been an email.”

And because Namjoon is accomplished, mature, and absolutely incapable of not taking Jungkook’s bait, the space between his brows creases as he sends a murderous glare Jungkook’s way. “Stop eating my food, then. And drinking my drinks. And lounging on my couch like that—”

“I’m not lounging,” Jungkook argues.

“You’re manspreading all over the leather!”

“This is how I sit!”

“Well, knock it off! My couch is only for fun and people who think I’m fun!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “So you fuck on it?”

“What?”

“What other fun things could you possibly do on a couch?”

Namjoon blinks. “Watch… watch a movie?”

Jungkook groans, throws himself backwards against the pillows as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “Jesus. No wonder you can’t score a second date.”

“Okay, that was a little uncalled for. There are a ton of reasons a person might not want a second date, and no one is obligated to go out with me—”

“Uh-huh. Anyway—”

You clear your throat. Try to hide your own can of seltzer you’d taken from Namjoon’s fridge in the midst of his and Jungkook’s bickering. “Not trying to be rude, but I have an appointment at the shelter at three. If, y’know. You wouldn’t mind speeding this up a little.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course—”

“Oh, so you’ll speed this up for her but not—”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “She,” he begins, jerking his thumb in your direction, “isn’t needlessly complaining and actually has someplace to be.”)

It was just a quick little rendezvous in Namjoon’s living room to come up with a rough draft for the following month’s episodes. He couldn’t do it over text because he’d fallen down the steps at his office and landed on his ass on the corner of a step and his phone had been in his back pocket. Cracked clean in half. And he couldn’t do it over email because he—rightfully—knew Jungkook would ignore them because he has his inbox set up to send all of Namjoon’s personal emails to the trash.

But Jungkook holds onto things like that. Grudges. Loves to let Namjoon think bygones are bygones and pop up a few days later with some evil scheme. Hence:

“What is this?”

Jungkook smirks. Rocks back on his heels. “It’s fanfiction.”

“I can see that, but… why?”

This is where Jungkook shines: the ominous, cheshire cat grin; the aw, shucks demeanor that gaslights Namjoon into thinking Jungkook couldn’t possibly be fucking with him. “Well, you were having trouble coming up with ideas for episodes, and there’s an email in there from someone whose partner reads really expli—”

“Jungkook, this is fanfiction about me.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. Of all the weird shit you’ve seen on the internet (and there’s been a lot), fanfiction of people you know—your friends—was something you’d managed to escape. Probably by virtue of not knowing anyone famous enough to warrant fanfiction being written about them.

But you should’ve known. You really, really should’ve known.

“Oh my god?”

You’re not sure who says it. Could be you or Namjoon, but the sentiment is the same. He mouths a what the fuck at you that’s met with a shrug. You’re in uncharted territory now, too. “Where did you even find this?” you ask, taking the stack of papers from Namjoon. “And why did you print it out?”

“Because I’m going to track down whoever wrote it and get them to autograph it. Then I’m going to buy a nice frame and hang it on the wall behind him, so we never forget this historical moment in Place Him Gently in the Garbage lore.”

“It’s a podcast,” Namjoon deadpans, “how can it have lore? And how much lore can there possibly be?”

“It’s the internet,” you concede. “The lore possibilities are endless. Don’t tempt them.”

Jungkook nods sagely, well-versed in the degeneracy of the internet. “Yeah, that’s how you end up with shit like 4chan.”

“4chan? There’s Space Jam porn on there.”

As the youngest, all Jungkook can do is roll his eyes. “Sometimes explaining this shit to you feels like trying to teach old people how to rotate PDFs—”

Namjoon scoffs. “I’m not that bad. I know how to rotate a PDF.”

Wow, Jungkook mouths. “Anyway, back to the fanfiction—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Namjoon interjects. He looks at you. “It’s weird, right? Like, it’s weird that people have written this about us?”

About us.

Your scope of the world narrows to the size of a pinhead. It’d just been about Namjoon before. This is fanfiction about me, he’d said, and you hadn’t been included in that. Now it’s written about us and you’re included.

“I—what?”

“It’s about us,” Namjoon repeats.

Jungkook rolls his lips. “It’s about the two of you fucking, to be specific.”

“Can you not—”

“Fucking a lot,” Jungkook continues. “So much fucking.”

Namjoon looks at you, and it’s all you can do to keep from laughing. The look on his face is pure bewilderment, both that Jungkook has cooked up this idea and is hell-bent on executing it and that he remains employed. And maybe it’s a little bit of nerves, too, because neither of you are ignorant of the risks. Reading fanfiction about yourselves—about the two of you as a couple, specifically, or at least two people who have sex—is weird. Not something you can unread.

And maybe it’s because you’re so determined to not make it weird that you send Namjoon a cheeky, exaggerated wink, shrug your shoulders, and say, “I’ll need a couple drinks, but I’m down.”

Jungkook throws his head back and cackles wildly, and that look of bewilderment on Namjoon’s face morphs into something else. Trepidation, maybe; definitely disbelief, because sometimes he lets himself get swept away in Jungkook’s schemes, but it’s rare that you follow suit.

As Jungkook continues to laugh, you wonder if you should’ve said no.

Namjoon has two stipulations: the two of you have to film the episode completely alone, and he, too, needs to be a little drunk.

The latter? Piece of cake, considering Namjoon has become some sort of whiskey aficionado in recent years. His drinking is streamlined and to the point—he knows exactly how much and what to drink to get him where he wants to be. You can’t say he isn’t efficient.

The former, though? Borderline impossible. From the second Namjoon states his terms, Jungkook is having none of it. Argues that he’s the one who found the story and the one who cleared it with the author, so he deserves to witness the fruits of his labor.

“No,” Namjoon repeats for the nth time, “no way. I’ll barely be able to do this with just her, let alone both of you.”

And that—that doesn’t bother you, right? You force a laugh, because why would it bother you?

There are few secrets between you and Namjoon, except your respective sex lives have been staunchly off-limits. Namjoon could be a virgin for all you know, and as you study him—the way he keeps bobbing his leg, the slight shake in his hands—you wonder if that’s the reason he’s being so weird about this.

It’s just a story.

Fiction.

Most people don’t have to worry about someone writing stories about them fucking their friends. If they do, you reckon even less actually read them. So, sure, it’s a little strange, but people from all over the world send in stranger stuff all the time, don’t they? It’s literally the reason you’re in this predicament.

Eventually Jungkook agrees. His whining has gotten him nowhere, so he just throws up his hands. Posts a cryptic little “u guys won’t believe what the next patreon ep is lmao” that sends the internet into a frenzy. Doubles your Patreon numbers almost immediately, and both you and Namjoon do a good job of pretending the pressure isn’t overwhelming.

Jesus. You have to read explicit fanfiction about yourselves. On camera.

Namjoon gets caught up with work and isn’t available until the weekend, so you’re forced to sit with the nerves for a few days. Not too bad at first, but you’re nearly coming out of your skin by Thursday with the need to know. You’re well-versed in the world of fanfiction, but this is fanfiction about you: your name, your likeness, maybe even your personality.

What will they know of Namjoon, though?

Will they get it right, the way he looks with his jaw clenched? How impossibly deep his voice can go, both when it’s raspy with sleep and when he’s fully at ease? Will the Namjoon in the story be closer to the Namjoon you know, or the version of himself he presents to the public?

And you’ve known him a long time—long enough that there are few secrets between you, but you don’t know the most intimate parts. All the parts the internet loves to speculate on. All the little gaps that, apparently, need to be filled in by fanfiction.

Will they know what Namjoon looks like when he gets off?

No, you scold yourself, jerking awkwardly like you’ve been burned, and neither will you.

Because you are not going to think about this. Your thoughts are not going to go there. Namjoon is your friend, and you’ve listened to him scold an endless amount of men on the podcast for exactly this behavior. Sexualizing their friends. You’re not going to do it, too.

Maybe that’s why you’re kind of seeing double when it comes time to record. Namjoon needed an extra shot and offered you one as well. You’d necked it without a second thought and now you’re here, trying to ignore the slight tilt of the room as Namjoon adjusts the camera.

“How’s the shot look?” he asks, gesturing vaguely behind him at his laptop screen because Jungkook had refused to lend you his fancy cameras if he wasn’t allowed to be involved.

It’s a completely normal question.

It’s a question you’ve asked and answered a million times.

Except—there’s something horribly distracting about Namjoon in this moment. The outline of his back muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The way the sleeves are tight around his biceps. He’s always been a gym rat, always carries around a protein shake that smells and looks completely foul, but you can’t remember it ever being this obvious.

And you take too long to answer, because Namjoon straightens up just enough to send you a concerned look. Which does not help. You are not imagining what else might cause his brows to pinch like that, what might have his lips parting, have sweat dotting his hairline.

You swallow. Hard.

“Looks fine,” you manage to say. He’s still staring. Are you on fire? You feel like you’re on fire, which would make sense. Would explain Namjoon’s sweating and concerned stare and the fact that he cannot stop staring at you. “Maybe a tiny bit to the right if we’re being picky,” you tack on, hoping it’ll break whatever spell the two of you are ensnared in.

It works. “To the—the right, yeah, makes sense,” he rambles.

He moves it an inch to the left.

—

Things are tense, to say the least.

Recording hasn’t been this awkward since your first episode, or maybe ever. You’re sat across from one another like you always are, and usually Namjoon would be making quip after quip by now, talking endlessly until Jungkook shushed him long enough to get the intro filmed. Now, there’s just silence.

“Should we…?” Namjoon startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table and drops a string of curses. “Sorry, are you—”

“I’m fine,” he says, cutting you off. He gestures vaguely toward the camera. “I’ll just… yeah.”

Showtime.

You wipe your hands on your jeans, unsure of when they got so damp. Unsure of when you’d grown so nervous, too, because you’d been fine an hour ago. Had strolled in with two cups of tea and a little too much confidence, giddy at what you were about to do.

Maybe the nerves had shown up alongside the alcohol. This sounds reasonable, and you do not, under any circumstance or for any reason, think about Namjoon’s back. Or his biceps.

Namjoon makes it through the intro, dimples deep and wide as he smiles, and you also don’t think about the way his voice cracks and gets a little breathy when he introduces you. It’s only because he’d been drinking, and the flush on his cheeks attests to that. The same flush that creeps down his neck, still a little sweaty; disappears beneath the hemline of his shirt.

“—Jungkook had. Right, Piper?”

Now it’s your turn to startle, and there’s not much you can do to hide the obvious except ask Namjoon to redo the shot. Because it’s bad enough the internet already overanalyzes every move you make, every word choice, every instance you’ve stared at Namjoon a second longer than they thought you would—this is a blatant display of… affectedness.

“Sorry,” you say, “I wasn't paying attention. Can we redo it?”

You’re expecting a playful scolding. A ha ha, get it together, because that’s what you usually get. But there’s nothing aside from Namjoon studying you and nodding. Asking if you’re okay. Saying, “Is this—this is weird, right? Is it too weird? Maybe we shouldn’t—”

An out. Namjoon is giving you an out, and you should take it, you know you should take it, so there’s absolutely no reason at all you shake your head and say, “No, no, it’s fine! I think I’m just a little, uh. Drunk?”

“Are you sure? We can—”

“It’s fine, Joon,” you insist. “Besides, it’ll be good content, right?”

“Good content,” he parrots. “Yeah, for sure.” He fidgets in his seat, runs his hands down the span of his thighs. Very, very thick thighs. “I’ll grab us some water.”

You faceplant onto the table as soon as he’s out of the room. When did his thighs get so thick?

But the water helps. Cures whatever strange, insatiable thirst has come over you, because you feel much more human after a few glasses. Less drunk, too, which makes sense. Yoongi could barely escape your drunken, horny wrath when the two of you were together, so you chalk it up to a Pavlovian response.

Namjoon does the intro again. Introduces you strong and steady, not a hint of nerves, and explains, with a fresh blush taking over his upper body, what the episode’s going to be about. “Someone wrote fanfiction about us,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s, uh, pretty explicit. Jungkook thought it’d be funny if we read it.”

You snort. “He might get fired, depending on how this goes.”

“He should get fired regardless,” Namjoon deadpans. “Anyway, we have permission from the author to read this so don’t come after us, and, as always, we’ll put all the credits in the video description.”

“Special shoutout to Jungkook, though, who was not allowed to be here with us for this momentous occasion.”

Namjoon laughs. “I’m sure he’s having plenty of fun at home.” You both pause. “That’s not—I’m not implying anything with that! I just meant—you know, like. He’s hanging out and enjoying his day off.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Moving on. I have two copies of this. Do you want your own?”

You grin, wicked and wide. “Nah, just read it to me.”

“Making me do all the work,” he huffs. “Typical.”

“There’s a stack of papers in front of you that might say otherwise.”

It’s clear you catch him off-guard. He cocks an eyebrow, opens and shuts his mouth a few times like a goldfish. An obvious question sits on the tip of his tongue: You think you’d be in charge? Instead he coughs, jerks his head to the side, and says, “I guess we’ll see.”

It sounds like a challenge.

Thirty seconds is all you get before Namjoon’s shuffling his stack of papers and clearing his throat. Asking if you’re ready and jumping right into it once you say you are. Reads the first few lines like they’re some old lecture notes, and they’re conservative and safe-for-work enough that you start to relax.

And then Namjoon reads, “A louder one wonders if Namjoon is a pet name person—if he’d call her ‘honey,’ or ‘gummy bear,’ ‘babe,’ or ‘baby,’” and you choke.

“Gummy bear?”

Namjoon laughs along with you—the weird one that almost sounds like a dog panting. “You want me to call you gummy bear?”

“I want you to call me a Lyft,” you snark. “I’m leaving.”

He continues:

And that’s how it starts, wandering thoughts, wandering fingers—the first time Piper comes to the thought of Namjoon calling her baby, pushing inside her, showing her that he definitely doesn’t beg, but she does… Well, she’s a little ashamed. She’s apparently got a reputation to maintain, anyway, not to mention a friendship.

His eyes leave the paper and lock onto you. “Or maybe you’d prefer baby?”

“Fuck off.”

Weeks after that first time, it’s become a habit, thinking about Namjoon as something more than a friend. It’s confusing and a little mortifying and it’s starting to affect her in ways she hadn’t expected. When they record, she feels fidgety—she’s jumpy when he gets close, has all the stupid obvious tells of an unwanted crush: her breath hitches when he whispers (why the fuck is he whispering in her ear, anyway? Doesn’t he know what that does to a person?) inside jokes to her so Jungkook can’t hear, her heart rate spikes when their fingers accidentally brush, she feels itchy and hot and a little embarrassed whenever he holds eye contact with her. It’s terrible, and it’s only made worse by the way he’s doing all of those things more than usual. Or, at least she thinks he is, thinks she’s not imagining the way his eyes linger on her more than she can remember happening before or the way she’s caught him staring at her lips when she chews on the end of her pencil mindlessly.

You’ve completely forgotten how to breathe.

Namjoon’s staring again. You need to salvage this. He’s only on paragraph three and you’re already squirming in your chair and imagining things that are not appropriate. So you roll your lips, return his teasing. “Well? Do you stare at my lips?”

It works. “No,” he scowls.

“You sure?” you joke, morphing your face into something half-pout, half-duck face.

“We’re never gonna finish this if you keep making comments.”

“You started it,” you point out. “Go on, then.”

There’s some dialogue. Some prose that hits way too close to home, has you wondering who on earth wrote this and how they plucked every single thought from deep within your psyche. A pang of fear that maybe you haven’t been as subtle as you’d thought all these years. A moment to confirm to yourself that, no, you haven’t been harboring a secret, deeply-buried crush on Namjoon.

Then he reads—

And then he kisses her. It’s greedy and hot, his lips like a branding iron. She moans a little against her better judgment when he licks at the seam of her mouth, and in return, she can feel Namjoon’s lips curve into a smile against her own. It’s better than she’d been imagining it, really. He’s a good kisser—firm at the right times, soft when she needs it, careful but not cautious. He holds her jaw with one hand and keeps her right where he wants her beneath him (as if she’d want to move, anyway). When their lips finally part, he rests his forehead on hers. It’s intimate in a way she hadn’t expected, and he looks at her as if she’s the answer to every question. Finally, he whispers, “What’re we doing, Piper?” His lips are still wet and pink and a little swollen from kissing, and she barely hears the question—she’s too busy thinking about kissing him again, about pulling his plump bottom lip between her teeth, teasing and… “Kissing,” she says finally. “What do you want?” he asks, sinking to his knees in front of her. And if that alone isn’t an answer to his question… “Whatever you’re willing to give,” she replies. It feels like she’s wanted this forever, this and so much more. Once she got the idea in her head, it’s hard to know if she ever felt differently, ever truly thought they could just be friends. Or, if in the back of her mind, in the dark corners that she never lets see daylight, she always knew she wanted Namjoon. Always knew she loved him.

—and everything goes right out the fucking window.

Namjoon sits with those words for a moment. Scans the paper in his hands and frowns a little when he confirms what you already know. “The rest is, uh. Porn.”

“That is why we’re here.”

“Last chance to back out.”

“I’m not scared,” you lie. “Are you? You’re the one who keeps stalling.”

He huffs. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he retorts, and then nothing is all that funny anymore.

Because Namjoon was right: the rest is straight-up porn. He’s barely able to read the part where he goes down on you with a straight face, turning a deep shade of crimson. Stutters through the part where you pull his hair, and that is not something you needed to know about your friend. You think he loses his grasp of language entirely when he reads, “When he slides a long finger into her and brushes past her most sensitive spot, she arches into him and lets his name fall from her lips in a soft cry. Piper, notorious skeptic, is a babbling, trembling mess as she gets closer to her orgasm,” because all the words are garbled together, producing nothing but gibberish. You think he’s ready to keel over and die when he reads, “Namjoon pulls away briefly, lips slick with her juices, and licks over his top one, pausing to tell her how good she tastes before he dives back in.”

“That was nice of them to include. I appreciate their attention to detail in regards to my personal hygiene.”

“This is so embarrassing,” he whines.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Gimme. I’ll finish it.” He hands over the papers immediately.

Except you regret it immediately. The words you’re staring at are not words you ever thought you’d read or recite in your entire life. Not even for a million dollars. “Oh,” you say instead.

“See? Not as easy as it looks.”

“This is really embarrassing,” you confirm. “I might need another shot.”

“Y-yeah. Alcohol sounds good.”

Namjoon staggers forward obligingly, looks completely fucked out and pliant, willing to do whatever she asks. She remembers the sounds he made when she pulled his hair, wonders if he likes being bossed around, if he wants her to tell him what to do, to be a little mean to him. Maybe it’s different from her dreams, maybe he will beg her. She wants him so badly, she’d do anything for him. So, she pulls his briefs down to expose his absurdly large member, already mostly hard, and slaps it. Gently at first to see how he’ll react, and when he shudders and jerks his hips, she does it again, a little harder. “Look at you,” she whispers, “such a needy boy.” He whimpers at that, eyes pleading. “Please, Piper…” he whines. “Please what?” “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. She wants to, wants him so much, wants to feel him stretch her open, and from the looks of his cock, thick and long and drooling with precum, he could. “Should I?” she asks. She musters all her confidence to keep the condescending tone up. It feels wrong given how desperate she is to get him inside her, but it also seems to be getting him worked up and equally as desperate. “Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?” Namjoon’s cock twitches, and he begs, “I—I’ll fuck you so good, Piper…. I know how, I promise. Just… please?”

“Oh my god,” the two of you say in unison.

You so badly want to ask if this is biographical. How Namjoon feels about a little degradation; what he’d do if someone actually called his cock stupid. Ifsomeone has called his cock stupid. You dare a glance at him and conclude that someone’s had to. Namjoon just has that kind of energy.

But you can’t ask because it’d be weird, so you keep reading.

“How do you want me?” she asks softly when their lips part. There’s a wild look in his eyes, like he’s processing all the possible options out of everything he’s considered. And then it occurs to her. “Have you imagined this before? Thought about how you’d fuck me?” she teases him as she stands, stepping into him. Piper pushes one hand through his hair, brushing it back off of his forehead and wraps her other around his dick, squeezing a little for emphasis on her words. “Yes,” he groans as she strokes him, thumbing at the head of his cock. “Tell me what you want, then. Want me on all fours for you? Want me to show you how it’s done, to let you lay back and ride you so you don’t have to put in any work?” Namjoon’s breathing is getting heavy, pupils blown wider with each suggestion.

“I told you!” you shriek, laughing in between the words. “I told you I’d…” And then your gloating tapers off, because what happens next has your brain malfunctioning.

“All of that,” he whines as she lets go of his hair and brings her hand down to run a fingertip over his perineum. “Want all of that. Want to bend you over the table and fuck you right here. Hear your sounds in the microphone.” Even in her dirtiest thoughts about him, she hadn’t considered the microphone, hadn’t considered recording it. When she thinks about it though, it makes sense. Namjoon is exactly the kind of person that would get off to someone’s voice. So, she does. She makes a show of turning around and slowly bending over the table, sliding her upper body across it carefully until she can reach her microphone and turn it on. When she says into it, “What’re you waiting for?” she sees over her shoulder the way that Namjoon shivers.

This is… not good. You’re never going to be able to look at a microphone the same way, which is extremely not good for a person who supplements their income with a very popular podcast that requires them to speak into a microphone for extended periods of time.

This is very, very bad.

Namjoon must be thinking the same, because he lets out a strangled a-haaa that’s less of a laugh and more a plea to God, the gods, the entire gamut of higher powers that might be able to save him. No one’s going to, you think, staring down at the paper again. This godless piece of fanfiction will be preserved on the internet forever, will be seared into your mind forever, and no amount of praying is going to erase it.

“I should, uh. Just read the rest, yeah? Get it over with?”

“Mhm. Yep. Yes, please.”

Don’t say please, you almost say. You can’t take it; not after what you’ve just read.

So you put on a show. Steel your expression and your nerves and take it seriously. Use voices and sound effects and desperately try to stave off the awkwardness you know is inevitable because a smut fic is probably only going to end one way, and that’s with you acting out Namjoon having an orgasm.

Maybe you’ll have another one, too, if the author is nice.

It’s sweet, she thinks, the way he’s easy for her, takes his time with her. Strokes his fingertips along her sides and kisses the back of her neck reverently. As much as she loves it, part of her hopes he’s not always like this—hopes he’ll give as good as he takes, hopes he’ll put her in her place. She can feel his cock hard against the cleft of her ass, not even inside her yet, and still, she thinks about next time and the time after that. “Still okay?” He breathes into her ear as his tip rubs against her cunt. “Yeah—want you, Joon.” “Never thought I’d hear you say those words.” “I never thought you’d record them,” she teases, eyes glancing up to the flashing light showing the mic picking up all of this as he starts his slow slide into her. Piper falls even further forward when he bottoms out, letting her forehead rest on the table. He’s whispering filth in her ear, about how he has something to prove, how she’ll never want anyone after this, how no one can fuck her the way he does. She hates that he’s right. Each stroke brings a new sensation: sparklers, butterflies, nerve endings on fire as he fucks into her and licks and sucks at her neck, her shoulders, her ear. Piper can’t even think, and this is what people mean when they talk about being fucked stupid, she decides. It’s perfect. Every time she thinks she’s getting close again, he changes something: fucks her a little shallower, moves his hips just a little, slows down, speeds up… It’s driving her crazy. “Come on,” she whines. “I’m so close…” At least she can tell he is, too. No longer able to sustain the dirty talk, he’s breathing heavily, letting out broken moans and sighs of her name. He’s moving rhythmically now, thrusts consistently faster. “Oh, fuck, Piper,” he groans, “Gonna cum.” One of his hands finds her clit and he rubs careful circles over her, bringing her to her peak along with him, no more teasing. When she comes, it’s with a loud moan into the studio mic, and that seems to be what tips Namjoon over the edge, too. His hips stutter into hers as he comes, her cunt clenching around him for what feels like forever.

You deserve an award, you think. An Oscar. You didn’t even groan when you had to read the word “cunt,” and that’s a feat in and of itself.

“Is it over?” Namjoon asks, words muffled by the hands covering his face.

“Not quite,” you answer. “There’s some aftercare, and at the end you ask if I’ll piss on you.”

Namjoon gags. “I asked you what—”

“Today’s episode has been brought to you by Stamps-dot-com—”

HOLY SHIT THE NEW PATREON EPISODE???????? Posted by u/pod-shipper 4 minutes ago NO WAY. NOOOOOOO FUCKING WAY DUDE THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY THEY DID THIS AS AN ACTUAL EPISODE WHAT THE FUCK WHAT HTE FUCK WHAT EHTU FKF DFGLKDG;L (+705) I wasn’t sure if they were messing around before, and I was quite critical of the “shippers,” but now I’m pretty convinced. (+423) ↳ we’ve been telling y’all for YEARS 😤 (+197) ↳ Glad you’ve seen the light, u/RandomAcorn2058! (+5) ↳ ugh. they weren’t messing around before and they aren’t messing around now. do you guys not listen to what they say? namjoon’s been dating, and piper got out of a six-year relationship just over a year ago. if they’ve had something going on for “years” that means they’re both cheaters, and that’s a really shitty thing to assume about them. not to mention it makes the entire point of the podcast moot. (-63) Why do you guys think Jungkook “wasn’t allowed” to be there? (+314) ↳ So they could fuck lmao it’s so obvious (+329) ↳ because it’s awkward af? would you wanna read porn about yourself w all your coworkers in the room? (+2) ↳ the “it’s awkward” excuse is sooooo lame he’s the one who found it and is the one who edited the episode, he’s gonna see it regardless. (+15) ↳ Tbh I’m more curious about how he even found it to begin with? Do they have a throuple thing going on? Like, why was he looking for smut fic about his bosses? (+38)

You do not get through recording unscathed.

You are very scathed. Perhaps the most scathed a person has ever been.

Jungkook texts the group chat sporadically throughout the week, cracking jokes and making memes at your and Namjoon’s expense which is par for the course and shouldn’t have you off-kilter, but something inside you feels deeply wrong. Feels like someone’s given you devastating news; feels like it used to back in uni when you knew you’d failed an exam and were just waiting to see how badly.

It both helps and doesn’t that the internet is so invested. All the clips Jungkook keeps posting have re-doubled your Patreon numbers, and jumping up a tax bracket never hurt anyone, you included. But all of those jokes and memes largely went unanswered by both you and Namjoon, still too close to the incident to find the humor in it from the other side.

The two of you had sex.

Not literally, of course, but you figure you might as well have with the way you’re feeling. The way you’re avoiding one another. Someone wrote a story about the two of you having sex and you both read it and something about that, days later, feels really fucking unsettling.

In a bad way? You aren’t sure. It’s not like you’re mad or upset or any other synonym. You just feel… off. Itchy from the inside out, and that’s far from the norm in your and Namjoon’s friendship. In all the years you’ve known one another, you’ve never once avoided each other, including the time you’d set him up with a close friend and he showed up 45 minutes late to their date and ghosted after.

(Unsurprisingly, that friendship had not lasted.)

Maybe it’s because Yoongi had always been there as a buffer. You aren’t of the belief that men and women cannot be platonic friends, but being in a years-long committed relationship nixed a lot of awkward interactions and assumptions off the bat. Even Namjoon had known Yoongi first. Had introduced himself to you in your shared 100-level psych course with a, “Hey, you’re Min Yoongi’s girlfriend, right?” because they ran in the same underground circles and Namjoon had idolized him from afar for years.

Pretty fucked up, then, that Yoongi’s off in Los Angeles with his hot new boyfriend and you’re on your couch, Holly at your feet, pointedly ignoring your texts.

“I’m gonna get a cat,” you say to the dog, trying to redirect his attention when he starts chewing on your sock again. Holly doesn’t offer any input, of course, and he’s a lot like his father in that way. “I can’t believe you have a stepfather. You’re a proper child of divorce now, Min Holly.”

There are a pile of unread texts you continue to ignore in lieu of showing Holly pictures of adoptable cats. A few more memes from Jungkook, one from Namjoon’s new phone asking to move the recording date a few days because “something came up at work,” one from the food delivery service you admittedly use too much offering 10% off your next order, and two from Yoongi. This reminded me of you, the first one says beneath a picture of an ice cream cone on the ground, and another one of him holding a water gun that says send me a picture of my son or else.

You eventually reply back with a picture of your middle finger, Holly nothing but a blurred brown blob in the corner of the frame.

That’s how it goes for the better part of a week. Namjoon’s work issue lasts four days. He doesn’t offer an explanation and you don’t ask for one, you just wait for the all-clear text and try to quiet the nerves once you get it.

You’ve never been nervous to see Namjoon before.

The more popular the podcast became, the more money rolled in. The more money that rolled in, the more you could afford nicer things. That meant going from recording in Namjoon’s living room to a bona fide office space. Third floor, an expanse of windows and natural light, thirty-five minute commute by train.

Today, it feels more like thirty-five seconds.

You can hear Jungkook’s witch cackle from the stairwell, and your mind fills in the blanks of Namjoon’s exasperated sigh. It helps, your brain reminding you that you know these people. You know this is Jungkook’s late gym day, so he’ll be in a pair of sweats and a hoodie that drowns his frame. You know that when Namjoon has work issues and feels like an inconvenience, he always shows up with two boxes of baked goods from the bakery near his place, and you know both of them will save the best donut for you.

So you walk in and Jungkook’s in a hoodie and sweats just like you expect him to be, and there are two boxes of baked goods next to the coffee machine. Both of them say hello and wave and, for all intents and purposes, everything is normal.

Except it isn’t.

Because Namjoon looks… different.

Not in a bad way. Not in a bad way. He almost always dresses nicely, always looks polished and put-together, usually because he’s either going to or coming from campus—fitted shirts, either of the tee or dress variety, and earth-toned cardigans; tailored trousers that are sometimes corduroy; polished loafers. Sometimes, if he’s feeling extra casual, a stark white pair of tennis shoes.

Today, he wears none of those things.

No, today torture comes in the form of form-fitting jeans and a t-shirt a little oversized so he can roll the sleeves. His hair is brushed back off his face instead of parted down the middle. He’s wearing gold jewelry that glints in the sun. A pair of off-white Converse high-tops. And, much to your horror, he’s also wearing his glasses.

According to the internet, Kim Namjoon is peak husband material, which you can usually ignore, but not when he’s wearing glasses.

You avert your gaze, convinced you’ll burst into flames if you stare too long, not to mention Jungkook will notice and that’s a ribbing you’d rather die than take. So you avert your gaze and pointedly ignore Namjoon, who’s talking about his work crisis to no one in particular. Something about a co-worker going on an unexpectedly early paternity leave, and Namjoon being asked to cover some of his courses until they could find a more permanent fix.

Jungkook asks a question you don’t catch. Because paternity leave means his co-worker and his partner had a baby, presumably via old-fashioned methods, and it’s not a direct mention of sex but it’s close enough to send you into a coughing fit you have to blame on your donut. Neither of them buy it, but Namjoon is a good enough person to look genuinely concerned. Reaches out, probably to slap your back, but the thought of him touching you is just… too much.

So he barely gets out an, “Are you o—” before you choke down whatever’s left in your mouth and cut him off with a, “Yep, all good!” before you’re scurrying off to the opposite side of the room like a little rat.

It doesn’t get any better.

Both of you are so stilted and awkward during recording that Jungkook has to be the voice of reason and call it, suggest trying again tomorrow. Luckily he has enough b-side stuff he can release if need be, Namjoon’s work emergency providing a decent cover, and he sends the two of you home for the afternoon with all the exasperation and incredulity of a disappointed parent.

Thirty-five minutes back home.

Thirty-five minutes to sit in the embarrassment of not being able to do your job. Thirty-five minutes to catastrophize and wonder what you’re going to do if you can’t get it together. Namjoon will keep the podcast, of course; you’ll be replaced with someone else. Maybe someone less cynical, maybe someone more, but undoubtedly a man. After this mess, you can’t imagine Namjoon would want another female co-host.

But as embarrassed as you are, your traitorous brain keeps thinking about Namjoon.

Thirty-five minutes to think about his glasses and his rolled-up sleeves and the way the denim of his jeans contoured perfectly to his thighs. Thirty-five minutes to think about, “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. Thirty-five minutes to squeeze your thighs together and overanalyze the way he stumbled over his words today; how he could barely make eye contact. Thirty-five minutes to draft a dozen resignation texts and delete them all.

You groan, head thunking against the train window. You’ll take a cold shower as soon as you get home.

That’ll cure you.

You get home and walk Holly so long he gives up halfway through and you have to carry him back to your apartment. You take a cold shower and actually find it pleasant once the initial shock wears off, so it doesn’t work to keep all your rogue Namjoon thoughts at bay. You make a simple dinner and don’t think about Namjoon sitting you on the counter and having his way with you. You tuck yourself into bed far too early and consider going back to therapy, because clearly something very, very bad has happened to your psyche.

Needless to say, nothing cures you.

But it’s a new day, and you’re determined to get your shit together. Yesterday was a fluke, because you’re so normal and so capable of being in the same room as Kim Namjoon.

Except—you’re not.

Jungkook’s there when you arrive, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Barely looks up at you to say hello, and barely returns it when you do. You double-check the time, because you can count on two fingers the amount of times you’ve shown up and Namjoon wasn’t already there, jotting down extensively-detailed notes, circling and highlighting and chasing down Jungkook to ask questions.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Dunno. Not here.”

You roll your eyes. “Super helpful, thanks.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes right back. “You don’t pay me enough to also be his handler.”

You bite your tongue. Arguing with Jungkook means you’ve already lost the war. Not worth it. But it still eases your worries a bit that he doesn’t know any more than you do. That Namjoon hadn’t only texted him to say why he was running late because he didn’t want to—or couldn’t—talk to you.

So you wait. And you wait and you wait and you wait. Jungkook lets you talk to people on his dating apps and tells you about his new gym routine until your eyes are glazing over. Orders food delivery for the two of you because he gets hungry after an hour and had already eaten what was left of the snacks before you arrived. Cracks a joke that isn’t really a joke about calling the police, because Namjoon still hasn’t shown up and he hasn’t said anything and none of your texts are showing as delivered.

You’re halfway to hour two when the office door bursts open and Namjoon stumbles through, soaked with sweat and stammering over apologies.

“I am so sor—I broke my phone again so my alarm never went off and then I missed my bus? And apparently they’re not running the regular bus schedule today so the next one was a half-hour wait, but then I…”

You don’t catch the rest, because Namjoon is covered in sweat and breathing heavily and a week ago you could’ve survived this. A week ago you would’ve cracked a joke and handed him a towel and told him to get to work. A week ago you would not have been paralyzed in your seat, transfixed on the sweat rolling down the side of his neck.

You are fucked beyond belief.

Jungkook elbows you in the ribs, bringing you back to reality. “...even paying attention?” You startle, face warming in embarrassment. Namjoon still isn’t looking at you. “This is so sad to watch,” Jungkook mumbles, and thankfully it’s only loud enough for you to hear. “Like some stupid shit you only see in nature documentaries.”

Well, you can’t really argue with that, now can you?

But you’re a professional above all, so you hum an acknowledgment and take your regular seat. Pointedly ignore Jungkook. Wait for Namjoon to assume his position as well, and you’re surprised to see the space in front of him empty. No notes. No script. There’s just… nothing.

“Are you okay?” you ask, gesturing to the space in front of him when he seems confused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a stack of notes in front of you.”

“I forgot them.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that, either.”

Your tone is light and airy, not at all accusing or confrontational, but Namjoon’s jaw clenches nonetheless. He scoffs, fires a shitty little, “Were you not paying attention when I was talking about what a horrible fucking morning I’ve had?” at you that makes even Jungkook flinch. A few moments of stunned silence, and then, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, that was rude—”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, and all of a sudden you feel too big for your body. Feel like there are ants beneath your skin, feel like everything is wrong, and you don’t want to be here anymore. “It’s fine. Let’s just—”

Namjoon looks like he wants to argue, but he just sighs and says, “I—yeah, okay.”

This is where Namjoon would usually launch into the intro, a dimpled smile already plastered on his face that’d drop as he discussed another failed first date with that brand of self-deprecation that makes him so endearing. This is where he’d say what have you been up to, Pipe, and you’d try not to groan because how hard could it possibly be to add one more letter, another syllable, but Namjoon seems incapable of it. This is the part that, for three years, has been seamless and easy and instinctual, just two friends having a conversation.

There’s a red light on your microphones that indicates you’re recording. It’s on and it mocks you, because Namjoon is not doing the intro or telling you about a failed date. He doesn’t use that cringey nickname. He doesn’t say anything at all. His mouth opens and shuts and no words come out. What’s worse is that you know exactly why he can’t speak, because you’re thinking about it, too.

“So, uh,” you begin, and Jungkook makes a gagging sound from behind you. “Come here often?”

Namjoon ignores you. “Right, right, the intro…” He sucks in a breath. “Welcome back to another episode of Put Him in the Trash, I’m—”

“Joon—”

“Namjoon, and my co-host here is—”

“Joon, that’s not—”

“Piper. Wait, why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s not the name of our podcast.”

“Huh?”

“You said Put Him in the Trash.” Namjoon just blinks. “It’s Place Him Gently in the Garbage.”

“Is it? Since when?”

“Since forever?”

He looks at Jungkook, who is hiding behind his hands. “Is she right?”

A beat of silence. “I can’t do this,” he half-shouts, half-whines. “Are you two going to be like this forever? Because if you are, I’m quitting. I’m so serious. I’m gonna quit. I can’t take it anymore. The two of you are insufferable.” Another beat of silence, before Jungkook stands at full height and lords over you and Namjoon. “Forget today. Just go home and try again on Monday. This is so—I’m seriously gonna quit.”

Yoongi comes on Saturday afternoon to pick up Holly.

Yijeong isn’t with him, which is almost disappointing. Now that he’s dating again, you were looking forward to seeing just how awkward it could get with the three of you in the same room, but he looks good. Refreshed. The trip clearly did a world of good for him, and you can’t even bring yourself to crack a joke at his expense.

He, however, has no such hang-ups. “You look like shit.”

“Weird way to say thank you.” You click your tongue and look down at Holly. “Do you see how your father treats me? You should bite him.”

“My son would never. But also, thank you.” He flops onto the sofa. “You do look like shit, though. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not with you, preferably.”

“Oh, gross, is it a dating thing, then?”

“I—no.” You pause. It’s not a dating thing, but you still feel like you’ve got motion sickness whenever you think about it. How would you even begin to explain this to Yoongi, anyway? Someone wrote a porn fic about me and Namjoon. You remember Namjoon, right? Namjoon, that I’ve known and have been friends with since college. Yeah, that Namjoon. Anyway, someone wrote fanfiction about us having sex, and it fucked me up so bad I can no longer be in the same room as him.

No fucking way.

“You look like you’re holding in a fart.”

“You know, I’m getting really sick of you. Did you just come here to insult me?”

He snorts, but his smirk dissipates a few seconds later, a familiar seriousness filling the void. “We’re okay, right? Was the Yijeong thing too soon?”

“No,” you answer immediately, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “We’re fine, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.” He still looks doubtful. “You want me to start singing ‘I Will Always Love You’ or something? It’s just… weird work stuff.”

“Depends. Are you singing the Dolly Parton or Whitney version? And real work or podcast work?”

“Podcast work, and obviously the Whitney version.”

Yoongi seems surprised by this, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe. “Like, the podcast with Namjoon?” He presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek when you nod your head. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Like I said, it’s weird. It wasn’t, like, an argument or anything.”

“How weird?”

“You’re so fake, Min Yoongi. You act like you’re so distinguished and above drama, but really you’re just as hungry for gossip as the rest of us.”

He shrugs. “I’m not denying it.”

God help you, you’re going to rip off the band-aid. “Someone… Jesus, this is so embarrassing. Someone… wrote? Fanfiction? About us.”

“About you and Namjoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god—”

“About us… uh. Having sex? Specifically.”

“Oh my god—”

“Jungkook found it and thought it’d be funny if we read it for an episode.”

“Oh my god?”

“So we did? And it was really weird, which I expected, because I’ve known Namjoon for a long time, and I never, ever thought about having sex with him because we were together and me and Namjoon are friends, so yeah, it was fucking weird. But now… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about it? And now we can’t even be in the same room as one another.” Yoongi is a concerning shade of red. “So our show is gonna get canceled, because we can only release b-side stuff for so long until people realize something’s up, and it was Namjoon’s podcast to begin with so obviously I’ll get fired—”

“Oh my god, you want to fuck Namjoon.”

Yoongi sounds like a strangled cat when he says this, which does not help the way you feel like you’ve been hit square in the face with a frying pan. “No,” you argue, though it sounds more like a question. You do not want to fuck Namjoon. “No, no. No. It’s just because it was weird.”

“Did you forget I dated you for six years? I know what you look like when you want to fuck someone.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t be weird if someone wrote fanfiction about you fucking your friend?”

“Not if I didn’t actually want to fuck them, no.”

“You’re a liar. Get your dog and get out of my apartment.”

Yoongi laughs as he stands. Pats you on the back in the most condescending way you’ve ever had someone pat you on the back. “Let me know how it goes. No need to give me credit for your moment of horny clarity.”

Min Yoongi is a bastard.

Unfortunately, as you come to find out, he’s also a correct bastard.

You want to fuck Namjoon.

Which is… not great, you have to admit, considering he can barely stand to be around you, so you take another cold shower and decide you’re going to take this to your grave. You’re going to spend the rest of the weekend getting your shit together, and you’re going to show up on Monday and be a consummate professional. You’re going to look at Namjoon and say, ha ha, isn’t it so funny someone thought we would have sex? I don’t think about it at all because I am so cool and normal about it.

You’ve got it all planned out. You’re going to show up fifteen minutes early with your own box of pastries. You’re going to look nice, if not a little pretentious—maybe a nice sweater. You’re going to be prepared with notes of your own. You might even be nice to the villain of the week so Namjoon doesn’t have to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh at you.

And then someone knocks on your door.

You find Namjoon on the other side, and all your plans immediately go to shit.

Has he always been this tall? You can’t remember. You can’t remember a lot of things, including how to speak, because Yoongi had launched you into a crisis of epic proportions and now here’s the source of it, standing right in front of you. With all of his… height. And thighs. And that heady, musky cologne he always wears, that you can still smell now even though there’s an unfortunate amount of distance between you.

“Uh, hi.”

You blink. “Hi,” you parrot, and it’s a little insulting how one single word seems to have sucked up all of your brainpower. “Namjoon,” you tack on, not awkward at all.

“Sorry to just show up,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. Very bad idea; makes his biceps bulge. You barely swallow your whimper. “It’s just—my phone’s still broken, and it felt bad leaving things how we did? So I was hoping we could talk.”

Talk. Namjoon wants to talk to you. Normally: not a problem. Currently: big problem. You manage a nod, open the door wider to let him in, and you don’t think about how jarring it is to have Namjoon in your space. You don’t think about how your legs feel like jelly all of a sudden, or what it’d be like if Namjoon bent you over the couch, or the kitchen counter, or the—

You cough. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, sure. Maybe just some water if you have it.”

If you have it. What kind of person doesn’t have water? But you tell him to make himself comfortable and get him some anyway, and you mull too long over the size of the glass. Ultimately decide on a smaller one, because if things get unbearably awkward you can excuse yourself to the kitchen to get more.

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Namjoon says from the living room, and when you look up he’s sorting through a stack of books near the window. Some he’d lent you months ago, notes jotted in the corners, sticky notes in the shape of sea animals on important pages. “You ever wind up reading this?”

The Idiot. Namjoon had raved about it when he was in the midst of his 19th century Russian phase, right after he’d read a bunch of Tolstoy and Pushkin. You shake your head—though, judging from the title, you wonder if someone hadn’t written your biography.

“It’s good. If you have the time, you should definitely give it a shot.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, handing over his water. You take a seat in an armchair, pull your knees to your chest. Namjoon’s still looking through your books, isn’t looking at you, so it feels safe to say, “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He moves to sit on the floor, massive thighs spreading until he’s comfortable. Thank god he can’t see the look on your face. “I just wanted to make sure we’re alright. Things have felt pretty weird since we filmed the, uh.” He coughs. “Thing.”

“Right, yeah.” You realize he’s waiting for an answer, and you offer up a very rushed, “We’re fine, Joon.”

“Are you sure?”

Yeah, you’re sure: sure you absolutely cannot be having this conversation in the safety and sanctity of your own home. It’s tainted now, contaminated by all your uncontrolled horny thoughts about the man in front of you. You’ll have to fumigate. Might have to pick up and move, actually, or call an exorcist.

“I’m sure,” you assure him. “The… thing… was weird, but it’s fine. Temporary.”

“Do you think we shouldn’t have done it?”

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Because, in isolation, reading a porn fic about yourselves wasn’t a big deal. No one got hurt. Everyone who needed to be consulted was consulted. The episode made the two of you a lot of money, and Jungkook even promised to send some of it to the author, so your bases are beyond covered.

So, should you have done it? There wasn’t a good enough reason not to, because the story itself was never the problem.

The problem is staring you right in the face. It’s sitting on your floor, a book cracked in half at the spine and forgotten in his lap. The problem is looking at you like you hold all the answers to the universe’s secrets, and it’s no small thing to be looked at like that. The problem is that Namjoon is looking at you like that from across the room but you’re wondering what it’d look like from on top of you.

The problem is that you’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, have known him even longer, and you’ve just realized today that you want to have sex with him.

And you can’t say that, can you, because Namjoon came here to fix things which really does not lend itself to a hookup. Namjoon cares about your friendship and your working relationship so much he came here to try and salvage it, so you’re going to keep your mouth shut. You’re going to say, “I think it’s okay that we did,” and leave it at that. Because it is okay.

Because you’re the problem.

It feels like a small victory when Namjoon sags in relief. When he exhales and says, “Okay, good, because I think so, too.”

“It made us a lot of money,” you tack on.

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he laughs. “Right? Like, that was almost too much money. Just to watch us read porn?”

“About ourselves. I think that was the selling point.”

He stands. You do, too. “Never thought I’d be doing that,” he says, returning the book to where it belongs. “Definitely the most embarrassing thing I’ve done for money.”

“Being a man with a podcast wasn’t embarrassing enough?”

He snorts. Gets closer to the door. “Hey now.” You’re going to survive this. “Thanks for entertaining me, by the way. For a second there I was really worried we’d fucked it all up.”

Just the ending. Just one more thing to say and you’ll be done with this, and then you can take your third cold shower in recent memory and triple text Yoongi with a full-fledged mental breakdown. Maybe he’ll bring Holly back and you can register him as your emotional support animal.

And Namjoon must sense the awkwardness that’s crept back in, because he tries to cover it with a joke. Says, “Haaa, like you’d actually piss on me, right?”

Except it sounds like he’s got a mouth full of marbles.

It’s no wonder you mishear him.

Because he says like you’d actually piss on me but you hear like you’d actually kiss me, and there isn’t a universe that exists in which the following makes sense: you, stunned into silence in the doorframe, Namjoon saying his goodbyes, you thinking fuck it, last chance and saying, “Yeah, I’d kiss you.”

Namjoon stops dead in his tracks. “What?”

Your entire body is on fire. “Is, uh. Is that not what you said?”

“I don’t think it matters anymore what I said.”

“I’d argue that it does, for the sake of my digni—”

“You’d kiss me?” Namjoon… doesn’t look put off of the idea, which is surely a point in your favor. Interesting to note that his diction is crystal clear, now. Bastard. “You’d kiss me right now?”

There’s also no explanation for the way you say: “It’s only been an option for ten seconds and you’re already begging for it?”

You’d say there’s no explanation for the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches, the way he repeats I don’t beg for anything, but maybe the simple fact is: the two of you want to fuck each other. And, judging from the way Namjoon crowds your space, keeps dropping his gaze to your mouth, it seems very likely to happen.

All that fixating you’d done on Namjoon’s thighs was wasted, you think, as you take in the shape of his mouth. His lips. The way his tongue darts out to run along the bottom at the last second before he reaches out, tilts your head up, and finally presses his mouth to yours.

And you’ve got to laugh, because no piece of written fiction could ever accurately portray what it feels like. How soft his lips are. The way he touches you—gentle, but still dominant enough to have you moving the way he wants, have you backing up into your apartment so he can smile against your mouth as he closes the door behind him.

No piece of fiction would get it right, the way you’re unsteady on your feet, breathless at the way Namjoon’s kissing you. How he only breaks apart long enough to ask where do you want me in that throaty, deep voice of his. How you’re so overwhelmed you can’t decide: unsure if you want to waste the time it’d take to get to your bedroom, but if it’s only going to happen once, wanting to make it count.

So you decide to risk it. Plant your hands in the middle of his exceptionally broad chest and push him in the direction of the hallway, and if the two of you can’t wait, can’t control yourselves, well.

But the story had gotten one thing right: Namjoon does kiss like a branding iron, hot and greedy. Namjoon kisses you like there’s nothing else he wants to do in this lifetime, and it makes you dizzy. Has you off-kilter, stumbling into the wall as you try to remember where the fuck your bedroom is and why it’s so far. Just like the fictional version of you, you also moan when he licks into your mouth.

“Should I do it the way we did in the fic?” Namjoon asks as the two of you cross the threshold into your bedroom, a cheeky grin on his face. “Do it like this?” he questions, pushing you gently until you’re on the back in the middle of your bed, chest heaving as you lift your head to look at him.

Namjoon is so, so big from where you lay, just hovering at the foot of your bed. Cheeks ruddy, bulge prominent. “What’d you say you wanted?”

Takes a second to remember how to breathe, let alone what you’d read. What do you want, Namjoon had asked, right before he’d sank to his knees in front of you. “Whatever you’re willing to give,” you answer.

Namjoon smiles. Puts one knee on the bed, and the way it dips beneath his weight is unsettling. Why does he have to be so fucking large. “That’s right, baby.” Christ, you think, because there’s another thing that fic had gotten right. No one on earth would be immune to Namjoon calling them baby in that tone of voice.

The riposte biting at the back of your teeth gets swallowed whole as Namjoon grabs your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed. “May I?” he asks, hands poised above the waistline of your leggings. You nod, and Namjoon drags down your underwear with them. “Fuck, look at you,” he groans, awe creeping into the edge of his words.

“You want me to do it the same way? Hm? You’re being awfully quiet; thought you were giving me shit about being the one in charge,” he chides.

Because you’re short-circuiting. Namjoon’s on his knees, just like you’d envisioned, and his mouth is dangerously close to your cunt. How can you be expected to think and speak under these conditions? But if Namjoon can find the brainpower to be a bastard, so can you, because what you’d read and the way he’d reacted can both never be forgotten. So you thread your hands into his hair and pull. The resulting moan is enough to sustain you for years.

“Are you gonna keep running your mouth, or are you gonna make me come on it?”

He blinks. “Jesus Christ.”

There’s precedent. Fictional Namjoon ate you out like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough. Had fictional you writhing and insatiable, so it’s a lot to live up to, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. He hesitates for only a second, giving you one last chance to back out before the two of you set every last boundary on fire, and then he’s settling between your thighs and making you see stars.

Now you know what it’s like. Now you don’t have to rely on fiction, and it doesn’t matter because it’d never compare to the way Namjoon feels as he works to bring you to your ruin. The way he flattens his tongue to lick long, thick stripes; the way his lips suction around your clit. The way it feels when he groans against your core. The way he says, “Fuck, you do taste good,” like that’s a completely normal thing to say. Like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you.

But you need more and Namjoon knows it. His mouth doesn’t leave your cunt for a second, but his fingers find your mouth, so you put on a show. Wrap your lips around them, suck on them the way he’s doing to you, make sure they’re slick. Namjoon groans again, doubles his efforts. Slides one thick finger inside of you and barely lets you adjust before he’s adding a second.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Namjoon has you unraveling. Presses incessantly on a spot that has your vision whiting out. Has you trembling, a little panicked as you say, “Joon, fuck—Namjoon, wait—” as it builds and builds and builds.

You might black out for a second, because you come to and Namjoon looks… stunned. He looks like he can’t believe any of what just happened, and you blink a few times, try to come back into your body, and when you regain enough consciousness, you’re extremely aware of the large wet patch beneath you.

“Um—”

“Holy shit.”

“Namjoon, that’s not—that’s embarrassing—can you grab a—”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Presses the taste of you into your skin, and all those silly protests die in your throat, because if Namjoon was needy before, he’s desperate now. Covers your body with his own, hips dipping down low enough to press his erection into the juncture of your thigh, and the weight of him is delicious. Has you fisting the fabric of his t-shirt to pull him closer, has you pulling it over his head, his pants following. Has your hands skimming down every thick part of his body until you reach his cock, hard and aching and slick with pre-cum.

“I need to suck you off later,” you say, done with overthinking. Time to just be honest, and Kim Namjoon has a dick you need to feel down your throat. “Remind me.”

He whines, thrusts into your hand a little harder. “How could I forget that?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t know if this would be the only time,” you answer. “Did you bring a condom?” Namjoon nods, fetches one from his wallet and rolls it on.

He hovers above you again. Looks nervous, all of a sudden, like he can’t tell his lefts from his rights. All out of sorts. You’re about to tell him it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to, don’t have to do anything at all, when he says, “It doesn’t have to be.” You just stare. “The only time.”

There’s a conversation to be had. You know that. Both of you clearly have feelings you need to talk about and sort out, but you reckon they can wait. They’ll still be there in the afterglow, in the morning. So you nod, say okay, Joon, and kiss away the insecurities that still linger.

You think about the fic. Think maybe Namjoon would appreciate it if you cracked a stupid joke, just like he’d tried to do earlier. “Has anyone ever called your cock stupid?”

He laughs, breath fanning against your skin. “No. Wanna try it and see what happens?”

Might as well. You try to remember the exaggerated tone of voice you’d used. Repeat the line—“Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?”—and wait.

There’s a beat of silence, and then—

Namjoon swallows thickly. “I, um. Unfortunately, I think that really works for me.” You laugh. Pull him closer. Wrap your legs around his waist as he starts to move against you. Has jokes of his own. “Please. Please let me fuck you.”

You roll your eyes, laugh tapering into a giggle. “Do you know how?” Namjoon nods, looking all too much like a puppy eager to please its owner. “Do you promise?” He nods again. “Okay. Okay, come here.”

You expect him to move fast; expect the first time to be frenzied and a little awkward. It isn’t. Namjoon lines himself up and pushes the smallest bit inside, and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. Threads your fingers together, squeezes your hand. Pushes further inside and mumbles praise just beneath your ear.

It’s dizzying, the amount of care Namjoon handles you with. How soft he is. Does nothing to ease the discomfort of the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, but he talks you through it. Tells you how good you feel, how beautiful you look. Spills a lot of words you’d probably be embarrassed to hear and he’d be embarrassed to say if this was any other time, but in the heat of the moment it all just works to unravel you faster.

He bottoms out. “Okay?” he asks, and you’re rewarded with a dimpled smile when you say you are. Namjoon is a devastating kind of beautiful.

But, as he gives you time to adjust and you give him the all-clear, he also fucks like a demon. What once was hand-holding is now your wrists pinned to the bed, your body caged beneath him as he rolls his hips at a pace that has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’ve been deceived. Lured into a false sense of security.

It’s almost a shame this isn’t being recorded, because you want to memorize all the sounds Namjoon’s making. Want to hear them for the rest of your life. Don’t want anyone else to be the reason he sounds like this, and as he ups his pace and presses his lips to your neck, you don’t want to sound like this because of anyone else, either.

Maybe one of those times in the future, you can talk him into it.

Namjoon reaches down, rubs circles into your clit. Every time you think you might be close, he pulls his hand away, smiles like the devil. You let him have his fun for a while, let him think you’re keen to lie back and take it, and then you tighten your legs around his waist and flip him onto his back.

He doesn’t think it’s very funny. Looks up at you all bewildered. “What’re you—”

“You were taking too long,” you snark. “Figured I’d take matters into my own hands.”

“Yeah? Shit,” he says as you begin to move. “Fuck, baby, like that. Ride me just like that.”

You do. Don’t change a thing, because Namjoon’s cock is long and thick enough to hit exactly where you need it to. You can feel yourself clenching, feel yourself getting wetter, and the sight of Namjoon beneath you does nothing to stave off the inevitable. He looks even better than you’d imagined: skin flushed, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, sweat-slick. You want to make him cry. Want to give him the entire world. You will.

Namjoon thrusts at the same time you roll your hips, and that’s what does it. Has you crying out, has stars flashing behind your eyelids. Has you saying fuck, fuck, fuck as he drives you over the edge for the second time. Has you on the brink of oversensitive as he thrusts a few more times to chase his own end, almost delirious at the way Namjoon moans as he spills into the condom.

Has you swooning, just a bit, at the dopey way Namjoon smiles at you, eyes half-lidded and crinkled at the corners.

“Was that okay?”

You snort. “Yeah, I’d say it was decent.”

“Maybe next time you could pee on me,” he jokes.

You whack him on the chest. “Sure. Or we could record it.”

Has you a little shocked at the way his cock twitches inside of you at the mention of it.

On Monday, you don’t wear a pretentious sweater.

When you stroll in, Jungkook’s already got the best donut shoved halfway into his mouth because he’s a shithead. He eyes you warily, probably hoping with all his hope that you spent the weekend finding God and getting your shit together.

And then he realizes you’ve got on Namjoon’s hoodie and he nearly chokes to death.

“What the fuck are you wearing—”

Namjoon appears at that very moment, and it’s so hard not to take credit for the way he’s glowing, the dazed smile on his face. But Jungkook notices, because Jungkook notices everything, and his gaze darts between the two of you: your hoodie, Namjoon’s face, your face. He opens his mouth, something inappropriate bound to spill out, but Namjoon beats him to the punch. “Ready?” he asks you, and you nod.

It’s seamless.

No hiccups, no awkward stuttering. Namjoon gets through the intro without a hitch, and it feels exactly like it used to. Just two friends having a conversation. It’s obvious Jungkook still wants to say something, but after suffering through last week, he stays quiet lest he makes it worse and sends the two of you back to the bad place.

“How was your weekend, Pipe? Do anything fun?” Namjoon rolls his lips, tries not to laugh.

So you play along. “No, not really, just some dog sitting. How about you?”

“Oh, you know me. Had another first date on Saturday.”

“Did you? How’d it go?”

“Perfect.”

It’s a blessing Jungkook isn’t filming this, because your eyebrows raise so far they nearly disappear from your face altogether. There isn’t even a hint of hesitation in Namjoon’s voice, and although you would’ve described it the same way, hearing him say it with such conviction has you a little stunned. “Wow. You gonna see her again?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says, sharing a private smile with you. “I think I am.”

who the FUCK is namjoon dating Posted by u/pod-shipper 7 minutes ago This has honestly ruined my entire day. I thought all the stories he told about dating were a bit… Like, what kind of guy has a podcast about relationships but can’t seem to be in one? But you could just HEAR it in his voice how much he likes this woman he went on a date with over the weekend and I’m sick to my stomach. (+2195) ↳ bro you and me both 😭 i genuinely thought him and piper had something going on fr (+1302) ↳ Seriously might stop listening because of this! Any woman with self-respect would never let their partner host a podcast with someone they’re obviously in love with. If he gets serious with this woman, Piper will be gone within 6 months, mark my words. (+927) ↳ I wouldn’t worry about it too much! My cousin works at a really nice restaurant in the same city Namjoon lives in, and she said she saw this “date” on Saturday and that it wasn’t anything serious. (+788) ↳ Piper got a cat and Namjoon finally got a second date. Face it, it’s over. (+325) ↳ cannot believe him and piper aren’t dating.. do you think i should delete all my tiktok edits? (+4) ↳ this is unhinged lmfao i thought y’all hated piper? you’re in here bitching abt her being a “misandrist” every week and now ur gonna stop listening bc namjoon isn’t dating her? pick a lane and stay in it (-64)

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and reblogs/shares are always welcome! I appreciate you very much~ ♡

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jewel writes

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saatoruus · 16 days

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summary ⭑.ᐟ your spouse/bf/etc xiangli comes home late from work (as usual) after not seeing you at all. he missed you sooooo much you wont be able to walk without wobbling for the morning after !

w.c. 900

warnings ! anypov, lovesick xiangli, no dialogue, nsfw, tame/vanilla, sex !!! mdni

a.n ´ˎ˗ just a littl one for tonighttt.... ive been 2 busy w commissions and staring at him ingame to rly write much but (batting eyelashes) its always so fun when i do !!! stay tuned for ur next installment in ???yrs

xiangli wasnt usually one for intimacy, nor did he exactly have the time to indulge in anything like that — not with countless responsibilities, the moon tree lodge, festival and his regular expected research progress. god, if anyone needed a break, it was yao.

and that's exactly what he got when he started properly going out with you, 'work breaks' in copious amounts. it was a wonder how he even kept his head on straight most days. in fact, his situation was almost entirely flipped on its head after you two were official. the both of you went at it like damn rabbits; whenever he'd have a gap in his schedule or some time to kill without it being long enough to take you out somewhere nice n' proper, it'd usually result in two tangled, out of breath bodies pressed up so close it almost seemed like you had melded together into one.

it was especially frequent when he finally got home after a lengthy day—and near night—at the academy without being able to see you briefly inbetween projects, his coat being slipped hastily from his shoulders, those soft lips pressed so tenderly up against yours, ever gentle, despite the gnawing need in his chest for you close to him. his hands would always follow that same path: starting on your hips - a gentle squeeze, a tug so you'd be pulled flush against his own - so close that the hard outline of him was evident against the crease of your thigh meeting your hip, despite clothed. up your waist, achingly slowly, as if you weren't desperate enough for him already, he took his sweet time, always, making sure you soaked in every ounce of pleasure and anticipation he gave you.

those long, deft fingers would trace every little line and section he could; as if a calculation, his quiet appreciation for your anatomy, your soft skin beneath his fingertips. after your waist it was your chest, the cold of his robotic arm sending goosebumps rising in its wake. by now, he was grinning, aptly aware of each shuddering little breath that left you, each soft gasp or feeble grasp at his pants waistband, you were just as lovesick as he was, and it made his eyes near sparkle in the dim light of your livingroom.

it wasnt long before the two of you, beyond worked up, were in your shared bed; soft orange glow from the lamp in the corner settling beautiful shadows across that pretty face of his. the way he looked at you when you were together, sex or not, had your heart swelling in your chest, drawing out a smile every time. he was infinitely gentle until specified otherwise, more than happy to give it to you rougher than normal when you wanted it. but tonight, the dull, slight sound of his robotic hand working the sex between your legs was just a quiet background element behind the two pairs of laboured, heavy breaths and mumbled kisses.

it was almost painful how good he was with that damn thing. granted, he was renown for being... practically a genius, it was unsurprising that he'd made something so seamlessly human in its motions—despite how scrambled your poor pleasure-drunk brain was as a result of the metal fingers on and around you, you were always quietly impressed by the fact, especially in moments like these when he really put it to use with you.

his free hand, the warm one with stars marked across the knuckles, was on your face, in your hair, anything close to you - he loved just feeling you, skin on skin. desperate, incoherent and slurred-together praises were mumbled against your lips and your neck as his hips rolled, meeting yours in the middle with a wet, gentle sound. you had been going at it so long, so passionately and slowly that you were fit to burst by the time he started suckling marks into the expanse of your throat, licking and babbling softly into the skin there.

he always relished in the way your legs would wrap his waist when you got close, your hands squeezing and pulling him so close it was almost hard to continue at the pace that brought you to the brink - but he always did, eager and more than happy to please his beloved, even when the tight wet of your sex held on so tight he swore he saw stars. it'd be criminal for him not to fill you up to the brim every time, how could he not? he'd watch with nothing but love written all over his face as it leaked out in a drool when he pulled back - not before peppering you in kisses and praise, naturally - his hands palming the hair from your eyes as he made sure you were satisfied and alright.

it was difficult to properly respond right away often times, with the aftershocks of your shared orgasm making your legs twitch and your entrance squeeze around what was once him nestled sweetly inside. but when the pair of you were confident the other was ready for either another round or some snuggling turned sleep, he'd oblige.

#♡saatoruus #WELLL.. HAHAHDSGDF #this man has me SHACKLED . SHACKLED !!!!#my writing is all over the place pls . mercy #need this man BIBLICALLY IM SERIOUS #wuwa #wuwa smut #wuwa fic #xiangli yao #smut #xiangli yao x reader #selfship #anypov #wuwa x reader #mdni

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kwanisms · 1 year

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The Library of Illusion — the Restricted Section (finale)

«« previous | masterlist | end.

➮ incubus!Hongjoong × fem!Reader wc: 9.6k (I'm tired. You didn't see that lol) summary: After obtaining the final key and incapacitating the Keeper of the Keys, Y/N finally enters the Restricted Section, hoping to find the famed treasure and access her freedom but instead funds something much darker and more sinister awaiting her. genres/themes/au: angst, smut; fantasy, horror, supernatural, biblical & demonic; non idol au, demon au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, demonic themes, predator-prey dynamics, pierced & tattooed!Joong, Hongjoong is a demon (he has horns, demon eyes, and other attributes like hoofed feet, a tail, sharp teeth, forked tongue, etc.), sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @seonghwalover @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @prestineaugstine @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3

special tags: @thelargefrye @hwasangelbaby @yourfatherlucifer

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose @0325tiny @ateezstanforever @justiny @jeongwangjessmina @lacie220900 @aaaaajonghooooo @dementedaly @rangerobbie @yunhosmelonbar

join my taglists! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: the restricted section is supposed to be taboo subjects, which is why I went in this direction. Of course, if you aren't not comfortable with these subjects, do not read this piece. You can always read the beginning for the lore but there will come a point where there's no return so to speak. Thank you so much for joining me for this journey and for reading my works. As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. Header and banners made by me. Adult content & reblog banners made by me with a template made by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All my writings are ©️ kwanisms.

TW: THERE ARE HEAVY DUBCON & NONCON THEMES IN THE BEGINNING. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I will include a warning before the dubcon and noncon again. You have been warned and will be warned again.

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it, especially if you're gonna fuck a demon lol), use of pet names (sweetheart, angel, princess, slut, etc), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving), rough sex, dacryphilia, big dick!Joong, demon cock!Joong, choking kink, breeding kink, forced orgasm, Joong has an oral fixation, impact play (mainly spanking), Joong has a tongue ring, mention of blood during sex. I think I got all of them but let me know if I missed any!

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“Welcome to my home.”

You stared at the man before you, eyes glancing up at the horns protruding from his forehead. Your eyes continued to look him over, trailing down to his exposed stomach, noticing black ink decorating his skin. You hadn’t noticed he was watching you watch him with an amused grin

“Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s impolite to stare?”

Your breath caught in your throat as he crossed the distance between you in seconds, leaning into look even closer as you stumbled backwards. He let out a dark chuckle.

“Someone’s shy,” he whispered. “You weren’t this shy before,” he added.

You narrowed your eyes. “B-before?” you stammered. Hongjoong sighed, closing his eyes as he rolled his shoulders before opening his eyes again to look at you.

“Never mind that,” he murmured. “As I’ve explained, this is my library and it’s my home. You, mere mortal, have wandered into my home,” he started to explain, slowly starting to circle you, keeping his eyes trained on you.

Almost as if he were a predator and you were his prey.

“Why are you here?” he asked suddenly. “I—” you hesitated. Hongjoong waited for you to speak, tilting his head to one side. “Are you here to find the treasure?” he asked softly. You shook your head, closing your mouth quickly.

Hongjoong’s head tilted the opposite way, like a puppy. “Are you perhaps looking for… satisfaction?”

Your heart skipped a beat, your stomach lurching. ‘How does he know that?’

Hongjoong’s curious expression morphed into another mischievous grin, like he had a secret or knew the answer to something you didn’t.

“This is my library,” he reminded you. “I know everything that goes on in here.”

“Like Seonghwa?” you asked, noticing the way Hongjoong’s smile fell.

“No,” he said, all amusement gone from his voice. “Seonghwa’s vision is limited. He may be able to see what happens in the sections, but he cannot see into this one. Only I can truly see and hear everything,” he explained, continuing to circle.

You fell silent, following Hongjoong with your eyes, only turning your head when he left your line of sight. He continued to slowly circle you before speaking up again.

“Have you found what you’ve been looking for, little lamb?” he asked. “Have you found satisfaction?” You shook your head silently, keeping your eyes on him. “You haven’t?” Hongjoong asked, stopping in his tracks. “After all those lovers? Are you truly that insatiable?” he asked, a smirk spreading over his face again.

You shook your head again. “That’s not the satisfaction I meant,” you answered, your voice meek and small. Hongjoong’s smirk grew. “It’s not?”

You nodded as he resumed circling. “I didn’t set out to find this place only to fuck multiple men,” you added. Hongjoong snorted. “Only two of them were men,” he answered. “The other five were monsters.”

You felt heat settling in the pit of your stomach as well as rising to your cheeks. “I hardly think monster is an appropriate term,” you retorted, drawing his attention. “Sure, they might not have been human,” you continued.

“But they weren’t awful.”

Hongjoong let out a laugh this time. “That’s not what I meant by monsters, sweetheart,” he explained. The alien and the elf are one thing,” he continued. “But the jorogumo? The vampire? The naga? Those are all bestial creatures. Sure they’re part men but they’re mostly driven by animal instinct. Even that alien is driven by pure instinct.”

You watched him as he continued. “And despite not looking for that satisfaction, you seemed to leave each section satisfied.” You narrowed your eyes before scoffing. “Because I managed to obtain the keys,” you explained. “The sexual aspect was unintended.”

Hongjoong let out another deep chuckle.

“If that’s the case,” he started, stopping to turn and face you. “Then why did you keep accepting their advances?”

Your words failed you as you were faced with the truth of his inquiries. Why did you keep accepting the advances of each guardian? You could have easily killed for the keys. All encounters seemed to have one common denominator.

You easily, and in some cases willingly, gave into the carnal pleasure. Why?

You tried to wrack your brain for any reason but found none. ‘Why did I agree to have sex with all of them?’

Wooyoung, Mingi, and Seonghwa had all mentioned their venom being an aphrodisiac so that could easily explain your behavior but what about Yunho? Or Jongho? Or Yeosang? Or San? What was the excuse? What was the explanation?

Looking up, you decided on one thing. It didn’t matter.

You did what you had to, reminding yourself you needed each key to get to this point. To access the restricted section so you could escape the Library of Illusion.

“Does it matter?” you finally asked, trying to keep your voice steady. Hongjoong tilted his head, a playful expression on his face. “Does it matter? No,” he said softly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

You nodded once. “Exactly. I did what I had to, I gathered the keys, all to escape this place. I want to leave and return home.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrow raised. “Without the treasure?” he asked. You exhaled a deep sigh. “I’ve never wanted the treasure,” you admitted. “I came here to find knowledge, see what my parents were so keen to find. And I’ve found nothing of importance.”

Hongjoong’s smile fell, replaced with a scowl. “Nothing of importance?” he snapped. “Is that what you think?” You took a step backwards as he glared at you with an intensity you hadn’t been prepared for.

“You think your experiences aren’t important?”

You shook your head. “Had I not come here, I wouldn’t have had to do those things to escape. I expected to find something of note. Some kind of knowledge or something of great historical importance. Like the Library of Alexandria,” you explained. “But instead, I found a magical library full of horny creatures and men!”

Hongjoong bared his teeth before relaxing and standing up straighter. “Fine,” he finally spat. “If all you desire is to escape,” he continued. “You may do so.”

You stared blankly at him. “Just like that?” you asked.

Hongjoong scoffed. “Of course not,” he answered.

“You still have to find your way out of here,” he explained. “I’m going to give you a head start,” he explained. “A head start? What for?” you asked softly. Hongjoong smiled at you, the points of his fangs barely visible.

“I’m going to count down from fifteen,” he explained. “You have fifteen seconds to find your way out.” You felt a shiver run up your spine. “And what happens when fifteen seconds are up?” you asked in a quiet voice.

The smile on Hongjoong’s face widened. “Then I start hunting.”

Your stomach dropped, heart skipping a beat. “W-what?”

Hongjoong tilted his head, an eyebrow raising as he stared at you.

“You think I’m going to make it easy for you?” he asked, an amused tone in his voice. “You have fifteen seconds to get as far as you can before I start hunting you down.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking, your voice cracking.

“And if you c-catch me?”

Hongjoong’s eyes glazed over. “Satisfaction,” he bit back, smiling and displaying his fangs.

You stared back, frozen to the spot as terror coursed through your veins.

Hongjoong licked his lips before opening his mouth.

“Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen,” he said softly, staring at you, eyes full of excitement.

“Twelve, eleven, ten,” he continued, tilting his head, smirking at you with a devilish look. “You should probably run,” he whispered.

Heart pounding, you spun on the spot, glancing around quickly before taking off as Hongjoong continued to count down. You shined your light around, looking through the aisles, stepping over ruined books and crumpled paper.

‘Where is it? Where is the exit?’

Your eyes landed on a distant neon sign that looked to be an exit sign. You started to sneak your way towards it, ducking behind shelves and turning off the light, taking slow deep breaths to try and steady your breathing and your racing heart.

“Five, four, three, two…” Hongjoong paused for effect, the thud of his heavy boots echoing around the room as he walked towards the edge of the circle.

You held your breath, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. The room fell silent and you peered through a gap in the books beside you, allowing you to see into the center of the room where Hongjoong stood.

Your eyes widened as he seemingly scanned the room, stopping briefly over the shelf you were hiding behind. When he continued to look around the room, your shoulders relaxed before his head snapped back to the shelf you were hidden behind. “One.”

In a split second, the demon had crossed the room, grabbing the shelf with a clawed hand and ripped it from the floor, carelessly tossing it aside.

You screamed as the shelf crashed into another, wood splintering before scrambling up and dashing off in the opposite direction. You ducked around bookcases as Hongjoong laughed in the background. The echoing thud, thud, thud of his boots started to follow you in a casual manner.

“Keep running, little lamb,” he called out as he walked. “I’ll always find you.”

You managed to sneak your way to the opposite side of the room and squeeze yourself into a small alcove, focusing on slowing your breathing, making sure to breathe through your nose and keep quiet as Hongjoong stopped walking.

You could hear him start to chuckle, turning into laughing as he started walking again, each foot step heavy against the ground. “It’s so funny when you try to steady your breathing,” he said as he continued walking, drawing closer and closer. “But you could hold your breath and I’d still find you.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, hitting your sternum with a tha-thump, tha-thump, tha-thump. Hongjoong clicked his tongue, allowing you to deduce he wasn’t far away. “That right there,” he continued. “That’s what gives you away. Your heart is so loud. I could hear it in the other room while the vampire had his fun with you.”

You peeked around the corner, making sure the coast was clear before silently sneaking away as quickly and quietly as you could. You needed to get your bearings and find that exit sign again. You peeked over a low shelf and saw it off to your left. If you could just sneak around the corner, you could hopefully make a dash for the exit.

Upon scooting closer towards the exit, you found yourself at a dead end where two bookcases blocked your path. ‘What the fuck?’ You turned around and crept back to the center of the room, keeping your eyes open and avoiding the circle of light as you crept around the edge of the circle.

“You’ve discovered my little maze, haven’t you?”

You froze, ducking behind one of the shelves as Hongjoong stepped into the light. His appearance had altered slightly. He still had the same horns but his eyes were different. Black scleras with golden irises. He also sported a tail that had seemingly torn through the back of his pants.

“Oh, that was rude of me,” Hongjoong continued. “It’s not fair if I read your mind.”

You cursed silently as you listened. ‘Shit, I completely forgot!’

“Tell you what,” Hongjoong said, coming to a stop in the center of the room. I’ll give you another chance,” he said, holding his arms out in a grand gesture.

“And because I’m so generous, I’ll give you another head start but since I already gave you a large one, I’ll give you a smaller one this time. And I promise not to read your mind or use my super hearing. I’ll give you ten seconds this time,” he added with a mischievous smile.

You glanced back to find the wall behind you was solid. You decided to follow it, keeping low and out of sight as you crept behind the short bookcases until you slipped into an opening as Hongjoong began to count down from ten.

“Nine… eight… seven…six…”

You pulled a bandana from your bag and wrapped it over the front of your flashlight before clicking it on, the cloth cover dimming the beam and casting a dull red glow in front of you. He was right. This place was a maze.

You followed the path until you reached a large open area. You had two options; you could go left or right. You chose right, following the shelves until you reached a dead end.

Cursing silently, you backtracked, taking a left and following the shelves to another fork. This time you took the left path and followed the narrow aisle until you reached another crossroad. You chose to continue to the left and let out a soft swear when you reached a dead end.

Now you had to backtrack again.

You moved quickly, keeping your eyes and ears open for any sign of the demon. Once you reached the second fork you’d come across, you went the opposite direction, taking the right path instead of the left you chose earlier.

This path took you to another fork. You shined your light at the right but upon hearing a book fall from that direction, you took the left path which led you to…

“Another dead end?” you whispered, shining your light around. You backtracked, freezing when you heard the familiar thud, thud, thud.

He’s coming.

You decided to take refuge behind a bookcase, hoping Hongjoong would take the path to the left like you chose so you could sneak past him.

A shrill whistling met your ears as he whistled a tune, walking slowly until his footsteps stopped just on the other side of the bookcase. You ducked down, hoping he couldn’t see through the wood or books.

You heard him sigh before he started whispering.

“Eeney, meeney, miney, mo…” he trailed off. You held your breath, blinking tears away before you heard his footsteps head for the left. ‘Yes!’

Once you were certain the coast was clear, you peered around the bookcase before silently sneaking out from your hiding spot. You cast a glance back as you backtracked to the first fork. You’d tried two routes already and hoped the third would be the correct one.

You made it back to the first fork and took the left path, following it around, turning left and right as you followed the narrow aisle. From behind you and several aisles over, you could hear the heavy thudding of Hongjoong’s boots. “How clever, little lamb,” he chuckled as his voice echoed around you.

“Making me think you went one way. Such a clever little girl.”

You choked back a sob as you hurried forward. The bookcases opened up and you could see Hongjoong standing in the center of the room. You made eye contact, stomach churning as he smirked at you.

Before your eyes his coat ripped, wings sprouting from his back and making you scream. You turned away and made your way towards the green neon sign that you could now see read ‘exit.’

“You can’t escape me,” Hongjoong called, the wings shaking off the remnants of his jacket before he took to the air as you reached a straight shot towards the exit door. You glanced back once more and let out another shriek as the demon started towards you, flying over the bookcases, filing cabinets, and tables.

You ran as hard as you could, finally pushing the door open and slamming it behind you.

Blinking at the sudden light you looked around before something hit the door. You screamed, looking for something to barricade the door and decided to push the cabinet beside you against it.

You managed to block the door and backed away as the demon growled, roared and pounded against the door. “Come out, come out, little lamb,” a deep gravelly voice said. “Leave me alone!” you screamed, tears freely flowing now.

“Aww, you want to be alone, little lamb?”

The deep, demonic layer to his voice was gone now. A beat of silence was followed by his maniacal laughter. “You’ll never be alone again,” he said, the threat in his voice apparent as he scratched against the door, his nails grinding against the metal.

Turning away from the drawer, you scanned the room. It was a small room with a few bookcases, a rolltop desk, and a hutch cabinet. The glass on the cabinet was either broken or coated in a thick layer of dust. Everything was coated in dust.

You looked around, eyes settling on the desk where a stack of papers was strewn across the surface. You slowly walked over, inspecting the contents now that the banging had stopped though you knew you couldn’t linger for too long.

Your eyes landed on a specific sheet of paper. It was old with loopy handwriting. You carefully picked it up and read, eyes scanning the sheet.

‘Twenty-third of June, in the year sixteen-hundred and twelve,’ the first line read.

‘We’ve gathered at the town centre, many of us coming from villages from far away. The town has called upon us to act. Residents have complained of being plagued by a demon. Yunho was the first to arrive—’

“Yunho?” you whispered, pausing your reading as the face of the alien from the science fiction section flashed in your memory. ‘What does he have to do with this?’ you wondered before continuing to read.

‘Next to arrive was Jongho, a young priest from an ancient sect. The youngest in his order.’

Jongho’s face, a shy smile on his lips, filled your mind’s eye. ‘What is going on?’

Continuing to read the manuscript, you learned that all of the Guardians were based on these priests and the one who had written the manuscript was Yeosang.

“This doesn’t make sense,” you whispered, turning the page over to look at the back where a symbol had been drawn. It was something you’d seen before. The insignia on Seonghwa’s key and it happened to be an amalgamation of all of the guardians’ insignias.

“So these priests were drawn to the town to capture the demon?” you whispered to yourself as you looked over the other sheets, seeing hastily written scripture, crude drawings of what appeared to be various rituals and symbols.

‘Were they trying to banish him?’

A chill ran up your spine and you decided you’d seen enough. “I don’t have time for this,” you said, tossing the paper onto the desk before turning to look at the open doorway you’d seen when you first looked around the room.

It was dark and made you hesitate to enter but you knew that was probably your only way out. Your feet refused to move though. You glanced back at the desk, looking down at the papers before letting out a frustrated groan and pushed the papers aside.

You found sketches of the priests, eyes widening as you looked each one over. There they were. The faces of all six guardians staring back at you. “What the fuck?” you hissed. The details were uncanny. It wasn’t like they resembled them. The guardians were exact carbon copies of the priests.

“If the guardians are modeled after these priests,” you whispered, setting the pages down. “Then who is Seonghwa? How does he fit into this?”

You started rifling through the pages, setting aside the ones you’d already looked at. You knew you didn’t have time for this but you’d never have this question answered if you didn’t look now. ‘I don’t have much time,’ you reminded yourself.

‘But I have to know!’

Your search concluded as you read an old newspaper article from the late 1870’s. Your eyes scanned the page, reading a story about a woman and her fiance who went missing in the jungle you currently stood in. Your eyes widened as you looked at the pictures of the couple.

The woman was beautiful, she had long dark hair, styled into an elegant updo. She wore a dress with a high neck, reminiscent of the fashion of the Victorian era. The man was the spitting image of Seonghwa. ‘Is this…’

Your thoughts were cut short by a distant metallic clang coming from beyond the door frame. You dropped the newspaper and turned to look at the doorway, the blackness both inviting and intimidating.

‘That’s enough research,’ you told yourself. ‘Time to go!’

You made a dash for the doorway, peering into the room on the other side to find it was actually a stairwell. Rushing past the doorway, you leaned over the railing, looking down to see the steps continued for a long while, eventually descending down into darkness.

Raising your head, you looked up, squinting slightly as you were met with bright light coming from what seemed to be a square cut out in the ceiling. You raised a hand to shield your eyes as you looked. ‘Is that… daylight?’ you wondered, feeling a slight swell in your heart. ‘Is that the way out?’

“Finally,” you whispered, starting for the steps leading up. “This nightmare can end!”

As you reached the steps, you froze in the spot, one foot on the landing, the other raised to step onto the bottom stair.

Something felt wrong. You looked up, peering between the cases where you saw a face peering back from several floors up. Your eyes widened in horror as you made eye contact with Hongjoong. The eyes were the same black sclera with yellow irises, his horns were still the same black but his skin. His skin had changed.

It was now a sickly gray and flaking, giving him a grotesque and monstrous appearance. He grinned at you, showing all of his sharp teeth. “Hello,” he said cheerfully. You gasped and turned tail, heading down the stairs instead of up. Footsteps pounded against the stairs, following you down as you used the railing to turn the sharp corners.

‘Come on, come on!’

The darkness never came as you ran down several flights of stairs before finally bursting through another door, glancing back to make sure you were followed.

You ran into a solid body and screaming, hitting the figure only for them to grab your arms and yell at you to calm down. “Stop! Stop!”

You glanced up, eyes widening as you looked into the face of…

“Seonghwa?”

The vampire held you firmly as he inspected your face. “W-what? How did I get here?” you asked, looking around. You weren’t back in the lobby but you were in a dark hallway. The walls and floor were made of stone. The same sandstone as the temple. “Wh-where are we?” you gasped, turning to look behind you where there was nothing but an empty wall.

“I heard you screaming,” Seonghwa started to explain. “So I came back here and I found you running away from that wall,” he added, nodding towards the empty wall. “Are you alright?” he asked, looking back at you.

You turned back to meet his gaze. The same golden eyes you’d seen before looked back at you. “Y-yeah,” you gulped down air as you nodded. “You’re almost free,” Seonghwa said, giving you a kind smile. “This is the last stretch.”

You let out a tiny sob as he pulled you into a warm hug. “You’re doing so well,” he whispered. “Come on,” he added, pulling back and pulling you forward, taking a step behind you. “You’re so close now,” he added.

“Don’t give up.”

You felt him give you a small push towards the direction you were facing. At the end of the hall was a door. It was unlike any of the doors you’d entered before. It was white painted wood. You approached it slowly, turning to look back at Seonghwa who nodded, gently moving you forward.

“I can’t open it for you,” he added. “You have to do it yourself.”

You strolled forward, stopping just short of the door before taking a deep breath, reaching for the knob and twisting it.

The door swung open to reveal your living room. You let out a shocked sob, looking around the room. You turned to look back at Seonghwa who nodded, giving you a smile and gesturing for you to enter. “Go on,” he urged.

You stepped past the threshold, looking around the room. Everything was as you left it. You ran your hand over the dark stained wood of your staircase bannister, a smile spreading over your face. “I can’t believe I’m home,” you whispered.

“This is goodbye,” Seonghwa said from behind you. You turned to look back at him. He had a somber expression on his face. “Come with me,” you said suddenly. “You could escape him, too,” you added.

Seonghwa gave you a sad smile. “No one ever escapes him.”

His words seemingly froze you in place. Your breathing increased, heart racing as you stared at the vampire. “Wh-what did you say?” you breathed.

Seonghwa had looked down at the ground. “No one escapes him,” he repeated before looking up. His eyes had changed. You let out a gasp as the facade of Seonghwa melted away to reveal Hongjoong.

“I told you I’d find you, little lamb,” he said with a dark chuckle. “N-no,” you whimpered, backing away from him. “You can’t. I’ve made it out!” you screamed. Hongjoong glanced around the room from outside the door.

“Are you sure about that?”

Glancing around the facade broke. You weren’t in your home. You were in a large room. There wasn’t much except a table with some chairs, an old four poster bed with dusty sheets, an old wooden chest and a wash basin.

You looked back at Hongjoong who gave you a menacing stare before stepping into the room. You backed into the table as he entered. Your lips parted, eyes widening as you took in his true form.

His pants had faded away into black fur, his legs were no longer that of a human but were bent the way a goat’s legs bent, fur covering from his waist down to his feet. The heavy black boots were gone, replaced with black hooves caked in either mud or something else you didn’t want to imagine.

Your path out of the room was blocked, Hongjoong now standing before you at an impressive seven feet tall, his tail flicking behind him with excitement. The tattoos adorning his torso and arms faded into a smoky black at his waist and near his wrists. His fingers were capped with sharp claws, also an inky black.

“Please,” you whimpered, edging away from him along the table. “Please let me go.” The tears flowed freely as you begged him. Begged for him to let you go. For him to spare you.

“Let you go?” he asked, tilting his head. “But we’ve had so much fun,” he explained, advancing slowly on you as you backed against the wall.

“F-fun? Chasing me all over, stalking me? That’s fun?” you whispered. Hongjoong let out a deep, frustrated sigh. “Maybe that was more fun for me but what about everything else?” he asked, leaning in and caging you against the wall.

“What are you talking about?” you snapped, trying to cower away but the wall kept you from escaping. You flinched as Hongjoong brought one of his hands up, taking your chin gently in his hand. “The hut in the jungle?” he asked, tilting his head. “Or what about the cave? All that web? That wasn’t fun?”

You gasped, about to ask how he knew about all of that but he kept going.

“And what about at dinner? When I cut your dress open? That wasn’t fun?”

You shook violently, trying to push him off. “S-stop,” you whimpered.

“And what about the section after that? The crime section? That wasn’t fun? I lost control for a bit there,” he said, chuckling as he remembered and it suddenly clicked for you. When Jongho had you bent over the counter. His voice had changed and he’d known about the other encounters.

Had it been Hongjoong the whole time?

Hongjoong chuckled again as recognition passed over your face.

“And what about in the treehouse? You have to admit that was fun,” he continued. When you said nothing, he tilted his head in the opposite direction. “And what about in the temple? I’ve always wanted to try having two coc—”

In response, you brought your hand back, slapping him across the face. “SHUT UP!” you screamed. “Stop talking! Just shut up!”

Hongjoong blinked slowly before turning his head to look at you again. “Wrong move, sweetheart.”

You felt his fingers close around your throat. You grabbed at his wrist as he lifted you against the wall, pinning you. You gasped for air, feet dangling inches from the ground. “Please!” you gasped. “Put me down!”

Hongjoong let out a growl before throwing your body onto the bed. You sputtered and gasped, coughing as the dust rose around you. A stretching rubber sound caused you to look up to see Hongjoong’s appearance had shifted again. The black goat legs were gone, his black pants back as he knelt on the bed.

You backed away until you were cornered against the wall and the headboard.

[FINAL WARNING. NONCON & DUBCON THEMES UNTIL THE NEXT CUT]

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed. Hongjoong let out another frustrated huff of air before grabbing your ankle and pulling you towards him. “No!” you cried, trying to grab onto the sheets and trying to pull away.

You tried kicking him with your free foot but he caught that one and pinned your legs to the bed. “This will be a lot easier for both of us if you’d just cooperate.”

You thrashed wildly, trying to free yourself but his grip was too strong.

“You gave into me before,” he said, pulling a bed restraint from under the mattress and cuffing one of your ankles. “What’s so different now?” You screamed, trying to pull free but he grabbed your other ankle, cuffing it as well. You sat up, trying to pull the cuffs but he was too quick, climbing onto the bed and pushing you back, pinning your hands against the mattress.

“Six times,” he said breathlessly. “Six times you’ve given yourself to me.”

You blinked up at him, tears streaming down the sides of your temples. “Why is it so different now?” he asked again, sliding his hands up your wrists and lacing his fingers with yours as his head ducked between your head and shoulder, tongue dragging over your neck.

“Haven’t I proved myself a very capable lover?” he asked softly, trailing kisses up your jaw to your cheek slowly. “Haven’t I satisfied you more times than anyone?”

You choked back a sob. “Haven’t I pleased you? Made you cum every single time?” You let out another whimper. You shook your head. Hongjoong pulled back to look at your face. “No? That’s not what you said before,” he added, leaning in, his lips inches from yours.

He was so close you could feel his hot breath on your face. “Shall I recall each and every orgasm you’ve had so far because of me?”

You shook your head again, a small sob leaving your lips. “P-please,” you whimpered. “Please let me go…”

Hongjoong huffed, dropping his head briefly as he shook his head slowly. “I told you already,” he said softly. “No one escapes.”

“Why are you doing this?”

Hongjoong hesitated, the tip of his tongue sticking out, playing with the metal tongue ring you’d barely gotten a glimpse of earlier.

“Why am I doing this? Doing what?” he asked softly, leaning in to brush his lips against your cheek. “Why am I trying to seduce you?” You shook your head.

“Why does no one escape? Why won’t you let me go?”

Hongjoong sighed heavily. “You really haven’t figured it out yet, have you?”

You stared up at him as he sat back, keeping your hands pinned to the mattress.

“What am I?” he asked, tilting his head. You glanced over him quickly. “A demon,” you answered, albeit hesitantly. Hongjoong nodded, giving you a grin. “I am,” he answered. “But I’m no ordinary demon,” he added.

“W-what does that mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “It means,” Hongjoong said leaning in. “I know you read those papers,” he whispered. “You know what I really am.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You had read those papers, he was right about that. You learned about the binding ritual, the priests that had come from all over to seal the demon, the man hovering over you now, to this location. You learned about Seonghwa’s involvement and how he came to be here.

You’d also read Yeosang's notes about what Hongjoong was and the kind of havoc and terror he wreaked over the town.

‘In his most vile form, the demon is half man, half goat, blackened skin on his hands, almost as if he’d been burned, the skin charred from the flames of Hell. Black patterns like vines creeping over his arms, torso, and back. His black fur covered legs bent like that of a goats. His eyes black as night with golden rings in the centre. Black horns extending from his forehead and curving back over his caramel hair. Truly a hideous beast to behold. But to the women of the town, he appears much different. A man, not a beast. There’s only one word for his kind.

Incubus.’

You nodded slowly, looking up into his eyes. The black sclera had changed back to white but the same golden glowing irises looked back at you. “What am I, sweetheart?” he asked softly. You tried to speak but your voice failed you, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Speak,” Hongjoong said softly.

“I-in-incubus…” you whispered, your voice no louder than a breath.

“Do you know what an incubus is, sweetheart?” His inquiry made your breath catch in your throat. Had you not known before reading those papers in that room, you would have learned what an incubus was.

Thanks to your upbringing and your parents’ instilling a love and thirst for knowledge in you, many nights had been spent reading as many books, texts, and documents as you could. The vast library at your childhood house was home to many books in a vast array of differing topics.

You were around 18 when you first learned what an incubus was. The texts in the Library here had explained in further detail the deeds Hongjoong had performed before the priests arrived to seal him away.

‘Many women have fallen to the advances and lies of the demon. He’s managed to seduce and ensnare many of the town’s women, both married and unmarried. He’s defiled much of the town’s female youth, seducing and bedding them. He would have their very souls if left to continue. He must be stopped.’

You nodded silently. “Yes,” you whispered. The smirk on Hongjoong’s face grew.

“And you know what I’ve done?”

Again, you nodded, blinking away the tears. “And you know what I’m capable of?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered. “I could easily force you,” he continued. “Force myself on you.” Your heart hammered in your chest, stomach lurching and heat rushing to your core. Hongjoong seemed to notice the shift in your body.

“Does the thought of me taking you by force arouse you, little lamb?” he asked, grinning mischievously, the points of his fangs exposed. You tried shaking your head but you could ignore the feeling between your legs when Hongjoong pressed his erection into you. “I think you’re lying,” he muttered, an amused tone in his voice.

He rolled his hips against you again, this time earning a soft moan which you tried to hide by biting into your bottom lip. “It’s okay to enjoy it,” Hongjoong murmured, watching as your face contorted in pleasure each time he grinded against you. He could smell the arousal pooling in your panties and the heat radiating from your skin.

“It’s okay to give in,” he added, leaning in to nip at the skin just under your ear, chuckling when you whined in response. “Sex is nothing to be ashamed of,” he continued, nipping at the skin up and down the side of your neck.

“Sex is natural,” he added. “Humans are sexual creatures, Y/N.”

You felt a shiver run up your spine. “You are a sexual creature,” you heard him whisper in your ear. “I’ve seen firsthand what your body can take, sweetheart,” Hongjoong continued, one of his hands moving down to your hip, fingers digging into your skin.

“I’ve explored almost every inch of your body,” the demon whispered, tongue sticking out to lick a long strip up the side of your neck. “Every time I get to have fun, it’s always through one of those infernal incarnations,” he growled, tips of his pointed canines brushing against your pulse point.

“And now I get to have fun as myself only for you to deny me.”

You moaned, feeling him grind against you.

“I can smell it, you know,” he continued, raising his head to look at you. “You reek of sexual desire. I know you want me,” he added. “I know you want this.”

He punctuated his words with another roll of his hips. “You’ve been such a responsive and receptive slut,” he continued when you still couldn’t speak. “You’ve welcomed all my advances. I can change into any one of them again,” he added, the corners of his lips curling into a devilish grin.

“You want that alien again? I can add more tentacles,” he whispered, fingers teasing the top button of your shirt. “Stuff all of your holes at once,” he continued.

You moaned at the idea of seeing Yunho’s face again, the way he growled and pushed you against the floor as he took you from behind.

Hongjoong kept his eyes on your face as he undid the first two buttons on your top. “Or maybe you’d like the naga again. Maybe you’d let me fill that pretty pussy with both cocks this time,” he added, pressing his hard cock against you.

Your shorts were starting to stick to your slick folds, the pressure of his heavy cock against your clit was driving you mad. ‘Say yes,’ your brain kept telling you. ‘Give in.’

You weren’t sure if it was your own brain or if Hongjoong was somehow influencing your thoughts. Could he even do that? You didn’t know the extent of his powers but you knew he could accomplish some incredible visions. Illusions.

‘The Library of Illusion. They’re his illusions.’

You heard Hongjoong chuckle, seemingly having overheard your internal monologue.

“You’re just now piecing that together, baby?” he asked, shaking his head slightly.

“Maybe I should just be myself,” he murmured. “Stop playing with your head.”

You choked out another moan as he pressed his erection into your now soaked shorts. “You’re so fucking wet,” he added. “I bet I’d slip right in.”

You felt another two buttons of your shirt release. “You aren’t exactly stopping me,” he added, moving his hand to the button on your shorts. You glanced down through a heavy lidded gaze. “Joong,” you breathed.

He looked up from your shorts, meeting your gaze. “Joong?” he asked, raising a brow at you. “That’s different,” he continued. “Please,” you whimpered, hips seeking friction against his cock. “Oh little lamb,” Hongjoong said, moving a hand to cup your cheek.

“You’re gonna have to beg better than that.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Please, Hongjoong,” you choked out. “It’s so hot.” The demon tilted his head to the right. “Hot? You want me to help? Want me to cool you off?” You nodded frantically. Hongjoong’s lips parted in a grin, his pointed fangs making your walls clench around nothing.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he added, leaning over you, fingers hesitating at the button of your shorts. “I want…” your voice trailed off as you looked up at him, his glowing golden irises studying your face.

“You have to say it,” he urged, eyes narrowing. “So say it.”

“I want you,” you finally breathed out. “Want everything.”

Hongjoong let out a huff before easily undoing the button of your shorts before finally undoing the last couple buttons on your top. “You want everything? You want my tongue? My mouth? My fingers?”

His eyes darkened before adding “my cock?”

[CONSENT CONTINUES FROM HERE]

You nodded quickly. “Yes, Joong, I want it all,” you whimpered.

Hongjoong let out a deep rumbling growl and slowly tore your shirt off you with a slow and nasty rip sound as he pulled the fabric apart and tossed it aside. You moved your hands to rid yourself of your shorts but he stopped you, pushing your hands above your head. “Keep them there,” he instructed before climbing off the bed.

You could feel how embarrassingly wet you were through your shorts as he stood at the foot of the bed. “You want me to release you?” he asked, one hand wrapping around the post of the footboard. You nodded as you looked at him standing near your feet.

“And you promise you won’t run?”

You nodded again. “I promise,” you breathed out. “Just want you.”

Hongjoong barely touched you but your ankles were suddenly free and he was back between your thighs, kneeling in the same position. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, pushing them against your stomach. “I can’t wait to fuck you like this,” he growled, squeezing your thighs.

“Pump you full of cum and watch it leak out of you,” he added.

You moaned, cunt convulsing around nothing at his words. “You want that?” Hongjoong asked,, a hint of amusement to his voice. You managed to whisper out a yes as his hands moved up your sides, fingers skimming your skin.

One of his hands moved up to your neck, lightly squeezing it before you felt his thumb brush over your bottom lip. “Open,” he ordered. You obeyed, parting your lips. Hongjoong pushed his thumb past your open lips, almost groaning when your lips wrapped around him, tongue tasting the pad of his thumb.

“That’s it,” he murmured, watching you. “Open again, pretty girl,” he added. When you did, he pulled his thumb out, replacing it with two fingers, pressing them against your tongue. You felt him grind against you again, pressing your wet shorts against your clit. “Maybe I should remove these,” he mumbled, keeping his eyes on your lips wrapped around his fingers.

Without a word, he removed his fingers from your mouth, leaning over to take your lips in a searing kiss. Your thighs instinctively clenched around his waist, legs wrapping around him. Hongjoong parted your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You tasted steel and moaned against his lips.

He pulled back much too soon for your liking but your complaints failed as he started leaving wet kisses down the side of your neck, trailing to your chest. “I’ll stop teasing you,” he murmured, giving you another thrust before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it.

You moaned unrestrained as his other hand moved to knead and massage your other breast. “Joong, please. I need you,” you moaned, back arching. Hongjoong chuckled, the sound muffled against your skin. “Not very patient,” he murmured, letting your nipple fall from his mouth.

“Very well,” he added, scooting back to leave wet, open mouth kisses down your stomach, stopping to nip and bite your skin.

You looked down, meeting his heated gaze as he smirked at you before ducking his head and taking the zipper of your shorts in his teeth, pulling it down and making you gasp, dropping back against the bed.

A thin sheen of sweat had started to cover your body despite losing more and more clothes. You weren’t sure when it had happened but Hongjoong had managed to lose his clothes in the process. The leather pants had been replaced with the black fur you’d seen before.

Your thoughts were interrupted as Hongjoong kissed back up to your navel.

“Oh god,” you moaned, back arching as Hongjoong bit into the skin of your exposed hip, slowly tugging your shorts down. He raised his head slightly, looking up at you through his lashes. “Now that’s just mean,” he murmured.

“Saying his name when I’m right here,” he continued, grinning when your eyes met his. “S-sorry,” you breathed. Hongjoong shook his head, finally pulling your shorts down your thighs and tossing them aside. “I know,” he replied. “It’s just an expression.” His hands slid under your behind as he lowered his mouth.

“But I promise I’ll have you saying my name real soon,” he added with a wink.

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before you felt his tongue against your sex, lapping up your essence. “Shit!” you hissed, one hand moving down to comb through his locks.

“That’s not my name either,” he mused before moving his hands, spreading your folds. You tried to bite back but the sudden sensation of his tongue against your clit, the cool metal brushing against the bundle had your mind going blank.

Your thighs threatened to close around his head but he pushed them apart. “Hold them open for me,” he ordered. You moved your hands, grabbing the backs of your thighs and holding them open, leaving his hands free to pull your folds apart again. He gave your clit a couple light licks before spitting on your aching hole.

“What’re you— oh!”

Your words faltered as you felt the metallic tip of Hongjoong’s piercing against your entrance. You moaned as you felt the muscle enter you, squirming against your walls. It wasn’t human. Human tongues weren’t this long. You were briefly reminded of Yunho’s tongue but Hongjoong’s growl and the way he pulled his tongue out of you brought you back from those thoughts.

“Don’t do that,” he growled, making you look up as he hovered over you.

“D-do what?” you whimpered. “Think of other men. I’m right here,” he answered. “Think of only me. Those men aren’t even real. They’re illusions.”

Your mouth acted quicker than your thoughts. “They were real at one point.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed and he was quick to wrap his hand around your throat, holding you against the bed as two of his fingers on the other hand plunged into your wet hole, making you squeal at the sudden intrusion.

“Whose fingers are in your cunt, sweetheart?”

“Y-yours,” you answered. You felt his fingers around your throat squeeze.

“I can’t hear you,” he growled. “Yours are!” you almost shouted.

You let out a moan as he slowly started to pump his fingers in and out of your hole, ignoring the wet sounds as he stopped to curl them against the soft spongy spot inside you. Your back arched, a low moan leaving your lips.

“If you keep thinking of other men when I’m right here, I won’t hesitate to punish you. You’re mine, little lamb. No one else's,” he growled. “Not even the vampires. You’ve always been mine. From the moment you step foot into the Library.”

Your words failed you as your mind went blank, whimpers and moans leaving your lips as Hongjoong’s fingers moved quickly, your arousal no doubt spilling from you and onto the bed. Your hands moved to grab his wrist as he kept a firm hold on your neck. “J-Joong, please, I’m gonna—”

Hongjoong removed his fingers quickly, making you cry out in protest.

Can’t have you come undone just yet, angel,” he said, a hint of amusement to his voice. “I’d rather have you come undone on my cock.”

You tried to follow his movements but his hold on your throat kept you immobilized as he took his cock in his hand. You wanted to see it but he refused to let you move. “You don’t need to see,” he muttered as he stroked himself slowly, coating his cock in your juices.

“It’ll be inside you soon enough.”

You felt him press the tip against your hole and you gasped as he pushed only the head of his cock past your folds. Your entrance stretched to accommodate the size and you knew you were in for a rough time. He was bigger than any of the others you’d taken.

You were dazed out of your thoughts with a light slap against your cheek as Hongjoong pulled the tip of his length out of you, instead resting it against your clit. “I told you not to think about other men when I’m right here,” he growled. “This is your last chance,” he warned.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered as he rutted against you, the weight of his cock pressing down on your clit as he coated the underside of his cock with your wetness.

“I mean it,” he said. “Keep thinking about other men and I won’t let you cum,” he warned. “I’ll fuck that pretty throat of yours and cum down it and not let you cum.”

You whimpered, moving your hips to grind against his cock.

“I’ll—hn— I’ll be good,” you stammered. “I p-promise!”

Hongjoong leaned over, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against your lips as he guided the head of his cock to your waiting hole. “This doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you,” he mumbled against your lips. “You’re in for a long night.”

Your brain emptied as he pushed his cock into you, stretching your walls as your body tried to accommodate his impressive size. He bottomed out quickly, the tip of his dick pressing against your cervix, a small bulge resting under your navel.

“S-so full,” you whimpered, eyes blurring with unshed tears. Hongjoong’s grip on your throat loosened. “You like that?” he chuckled. “You like being split open?”

You nodded, unable to speak as your tears flowed freely. Hongjoong had to resist the urge to slam into you if only to see you cry harder.

He never was good with self control though.

As he pulled back, leaving only the head of his cock inside, you braced yourself for the return but you still weren’t prepared when he snapped his hips forward, the head of his cock hitting your cervix.

“Oh fuck!” you gasped. Hongjoong placed his hand on your stomach, pushing against the bulge that was the head of his cock. You moaned out as he gave you another thrust, and then another, setting a slow but hard pace.

Each thrust had you gasping as you felt his cock hit your cervix and just under your navel each time. “It’s so d-deep,” you choked out in a sob, tears flowing more, staining the sides of your face.

Hongjoong let out a deep growl, his free hand grabbing your hips as he thrust faster, keeping his eyes on your face. The tears spurring him on, he made it his goal to have you screaming, his thrusts increasing by the second as he drove his cock into you repeatedly.

Your walls clenched around him as your thighs shook. “M’gonna cum!” you gasped, your grip on his wrist tightening. “S-stop, stop! I’m gonna cum!” Hongjoong let out a dark chuckle. “I’m in charge here, princess,” he murmured. “You cum when I say so.” You let out a shriek as he slammed into you.

“Hongj-joong!” you sobbed, walls convulsing around his cock as you came, the demon helping you ride out your high before he pulled completely. You had no time to come down from your high as he rolled you onto your stomach, lifting your hips and reentering you from behind.

Your face dropped into the sheets as he resumed the same relentless pace, driving his cock deeper into your pussy, though how he managed to go deeper you weren’t entirely sure.

“I’m not stopping until you’re screaming,” you heard him growl over the sound of his skin hitting yours.

“So you better start screaming if you don’t want this to last all night.”

You felt one of his hands hit your ass, your walls clenching around his girth.

Another smack caused your body to jump.

“J-Joong!” you whimpered, feeling your wetness slowly rolling down the inside of your thighs. Hongjoong glanced down, noticing it got much wetter. “Oh,” he murmured, slowing his hips. “You’re bleeding,” he added.

Your fingers dug into the sheets. “Don’t stop! Please don't stop,” you begged, pushing back against him. Hongjoong shook his head before taking a firm hold on your hips and slamming back into you. “Be careful what you wish for, angel.”

You cried out into the sheets, your voice muffled as your walls clenched around his cock again, cumming with a shriek but he didn’t stop this time. He fucked you through another orgasm. Your back arched as he placed a hand on your back between your shoulder blades and pushed your chest down.

“You seemed to like this position before,” he chuckled. “Stay down,” he added in a growl.

Your nails dug into the sheets as his thrusts sent you hurtling towards another orgasm, walls hugging his cock as you came again. “Scream,” he ordered. “Scream for me.”

He gave you a much harder thrust, the head of his cock pounding into your cervix and making you finally scream into the sheets.

Hongjoong leaned over, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you up, your back pressing against his chest as he moved to grab your throat. “Again,” he hissed, slamming into you and making you scream again, this time unrestrained.

“That’s it,” he groaned, hips never faltering as he fucked you through yet another orgasm. You’d cum more times than you cared to count. Your mind wasn’t in the state to be keeping track. “I’m close,” you heard the demon growl in your ear, his hips hitting your ass with a lewd wet smack as your essence coated your entire ass and inside your thighs.

You were sure you were a mess but couldn’t be bothered to care.

“Gonna cum and fill this ruined pussy. You want that, princess? I've already ruined your pretty pussy. You want me to fill it with my cum?” You moaned as he tightened his hold on your throat. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled breathlessly.

“Open your mouth, slut,” he grunted. You obeyed, parting your lips enough for his fingers to enter your mouth, pressing against your tongue. “Suck,” he growled. You wrapped your lips around him, sucking as his other hand moved down, fingers finding your clit and circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

“So close," he gasped. "I’m gonna fucking fill you. Breed you like a bitch in heat.”

Your walls tightened, fluttering around his cock as you came for the nth time, Hongjoong finally finishing. You moaned against his fingers, spit covering your lips and rolling down your chin as he exploded inside you, cock twitching with each spurt as he emptied himself in your walls, coating them with a heavy load.

You felt it start to seep out of you, rolling down your thighs and no doubt dripping onto the sheet but he wasn’t done. As he continued to pump more of his seed into you, he pulled his fingers out and pushed you over, thrusting into you and forcing his cum further into you.

“You’re going to take all of it,” he growled, fingers digging into your hips, his sharp nails leaving marks. “All of it,” he added, thrusting as he finally emptied the last bit. You moaned loudly against the sheets, feeling impossibly full as he kept his cock buried to the hilt inside you, the cum he’d emptied inside you filling every crevice.

You were sure some of it had managed to seep into your womb. You were incredibly full. “Just like that,” he murmured. “Stay still.”

Your walls clenched, pushing out a small amount of his cum. “If you keep pushing it out,” he growled, looking down at the semen that had trickled out and was rolling down the inside of your thighs.

“I’ll plug you up.”

You moaned, walls clenching involuntarily. Hongjoong clicked his tongue.

You felt him pull part of the way out only to push back in, the base of his cock now thicker. You screamed into the sheets as he forced a knot you knew wasn’t there before into you, plugging your cunt and now keeping everything inside you.

“I warned you,” he said simply, thumbs tracing circles into your skin.

“Full of my cum and my cock,” he murmured. “Now you really are mine,” he added. “No one else can have you.”

You whimpered as he thrust forward, a slight laugh escaping him.

“And now I have all of eternity to breed you over and over again.”

The demon let out a dark chuckle as he snapped the book shut and got up from his seat. He walked over to a shelf with brightly colored books. Seven of them, each with their own special insignia on the spines.

The green book with the stars and moon, the red book with the spider on its web, a gold book with a palace, the silver book with a magnifying glass, the purple book with a dragon, the tan book with the snake, the blue book with a bat, and lastly the book in his hands.

The orange book with a demon mask on the spine.

Hongjoong placed it next to the purple book and looked up at them all.

“Right where you belong,” he said softly, turning away and walking from the shelf.

“No one escapes.”

#cultofdionysusnet #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #series: library of illusion

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niinnyu · 4 months

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Here's why I think jjk 261 is bad writing and wasted potential.

I've tried to separate more objective stuff and my opinions so I've made them into separate sections.

1. Jjk 260: I've already stated my issues with how jjk 260 ended and this applies tenfold now with this chapter. Buildup to sidestep to something completely different nullifies your buildup and is jarring to read. You also cannot blame villains in the story for undermining a character if you, as the author, keep doing it.

2. Okkotsu Yuuta's character: Yuuta's plan and willingness to use Gojo's body if he dies feels incredibly ooc and very uncompelling.

Yuuta is one of the few characters who's been able to see glimpses of the slightly more human side of Gojo "The Strongest" Satoru (he was my one and only/love is the most twisted curse of all). He has *just* seen the catastrophic consequences of a body used by someone else as a weapon. He was willing to go against a villain purely so that Gojo wouldn't have to.

You're telling me the same Yuuta was that ready to use his sensei's body and brought to anger when someone questioned the ethics of it?

Yuuta saying 'if no one else has the guts to then I will' means nothing becauseif his idea of becoming a monster includes using Gojo's body then he is the only one who can do it. All while implying cowardice of the others for "not having the guts to do so" (while being in Maki's presence and with Yuuji's absence, both of whom have been not self described as monsters).

Yes this is him stepping up to the task of being the strongest. But it doesn't feel like the big sacrifice of his humanity he says he doesn't care it being, if he's okay with it the moment the possibility of having to do so comes into light.

It just comes off as cocky and inhumane. And if that *is* Yuuta's character now, show me reason to believe this shift in personality in him specifically.

Also if Yuuta gets so mad at Gojo for being the "monster alone", why is his solution to do exactly that.

The easiest way to have the same events play out, but keep characters intact and have it be much more compelling would be:

Yuuta is presented with the plan of using Gojo's body. Have Meimei or Kusakabe, who've never really interacted with Gojo in any meaningful way to see him as more than his power, bring it up. Or maybe while brainstorming with everyone he comes to theconclusion himself with a lot of dread.

Yuuta immediately rejects the plan because he wouldn't do that to his sensei. Him having to throw his humanity away isn't his issue. He won't allow something like this happen again. And especially not to Gojo whom this was used against firsthand. He plans to kill Kenjaku himself.

Yuuta is reminded that if push comes to shove they still might have to if Sukuna continues to pose a large threat, but since he's the only one who can, it'll finally be only his decision. A panel of internal dialogue shows that Yuuta knows this is true.

Yuuta gets the formality "permission" from Gojo. Gojo says "who cares what happens to my body once I'm dead" and Yuuta *then* gets angry because Gojo of all people knows that he should care. Yuuta notices how Gojo also sees himself only as a weapon for others and calls him out on taking the burden all by himself (being a monster alone).

Fast forward to when Yuuta is dying and being kept alive by Shoko, Nitta, and Amai, Yuuta knows that Sukuna is still going strong and he has no choice but to use Kenjaku's CT against all his hopes because he knows he needs to.

Not only does this align with Yuuta's character a bit more, as someone who cares a lot for the people in his life including Gojo, and abides by his concern people at large, it also gives us a moment to see how heavy an ask it is of Yuuta, and forces the reader to be much more sympathetic of the choice he's had to make. How he'd rather not have done this and only went through because he's desperate.

3. Gojo's influence: This chapter essentially disregards any influence Gojo has had thoughout the story outside of having physical.

The main reason he'd not killed the higher ups waaay before now was because he knew the people who'd take their place would continue to pull the same shit.

Gojo ideology and the reason he went into teaching was to bring about a new generation of sorcerors who would know better. To dismantle the system that doesn't see sorcerors as more than dispensable tools for their power balance purposes, from the inside out.

I've seen people talk about how this ending for Gojo is significant because he isn't an exception to the cruel jujutsu system. Yes! True! He's been facing that his whole life! And that is exactly what he'd hoped to change through his students!

Yuuta using Gojo's body for his power feels like something the higher ups would not think twice about ordering. This was the perfect opportunity to show that the kids Gojo brought up *despite* this system are better than what the higher ups were.

And although throughout his life he too was not exempt as a jujutsu sorceror of being seen as solely his power (he'd also never allow anyone to see him otherwise). He sees, right at the end, these kids that he's helped train, and grow, and keep alive, know just a little better. Know *of* the human behind the power even if they don't *know* him.

OR! If you wanna stay grim about it, show that Gojo failed in this endevour. That the system still continues. Yuuta has made himself a weapon that is used because of his CT and Rika. That Yuuji has only ever been seen as a vessel, he'l he was created solely as one. That Yuuta goes to great lengths to keep his friends safe and Yuuji does so because he's already (kinda) lost them. Show that *they* still hold onto the parts that make them more than tools even if the system still doesn't.

And acknowledge the failure that it is on his part.

Because with this chapter Gojo, even just narratively, continues to be just a weapon.

Below the cut are my pretty coloured opinions about the chapter.

1. Payoff followed by setup and why Shibuya is still some of Gege's best writing: (ended up being long and not specific to this chapter so I'll make it it's own post lol)

2. Okkotsu Yuuta: I am frankly tired by the amount of importance Yuuta has been getting since the culling games ended. The only real narrative significance he has is being a student of and related to Gojo and the previous protagonist. He has no arc, no narrative weight, no personal stakes that other don't have.

He was an interesting character back when he was first reintroduced into the main story. As an unbiased executioner who would be there to kill Yuuji if Sukuna took over, both a threat but also an ally until then. The framing also made him more of a threat against Yuuji than a threat against Sukuna. Interesting!

He also has no personal conflict with the villains. The closest he got was wanting to kill Kenjaku because 'he won't let his sensei kill his Best Friend again', which is personal once removed since it's more for Gojo. Which was also a nullified sentiment because Gojo died before facing Kenjaku anyway.

He is just an overpowered character with no developmental backing. I still won't believe that Yuuta using Gojo's body is stronger than Gojo, because it is still Gojo who had had to condition and train his body to be able to handle the power he wielded. Yuuta has had a lot of groundwork already done for him in Gojo's body so even if he's able to do more damage than Gojo, it's still only because he's standing on Gojo's shoulders. People talking about "are you Gojo Satoru because you're the strongest or you the the strongest because you're Gojo Satoru" will be answered here need to remember this.

And since when has either of them cared about the Gojo clan looking bad to mention this lmaao what?

3. Kenjaku's relevance: Yuuta copying Kenjaku's CT being such a flippant discussion made me so mad lol. Your telling me they were seeing killing Kenjaku as a minor stepping stone to a bigger plan. When Kenjaku has been alive for yeaaarrrs on end pulling who knows what all shit that got all these balls rolling in the first place?

I know it easy to do in retrospect with Kenjaku already dead in current time and Sukuna being the current threat. But that's just undermining the threat Kenjaku posed and the "victory" that killing them was (even as anticlimactic as it was).

Seems like Gege had to do his best to brush off Kenjaku since they was proving to be a much more interesting villain than the Big Bad Sukuna, but man way to make your own rather well written character feel lame.

4. Gojo killing the higher ups: While the panels of Gojo wanting to shield his students from the bloodshed he was about to cause was sweet, I still wish the second years had siccesfully forced themselves in and joined him. It's another place where they could've shown Gojo fostering a generation that follows through with his ideology and plans because they get how messed up the system is.

When the higher ups were initially shown to be killed before Gojo vs Sukuna, the chapter had Inumaki and Yuuta talking in the hallways of the higher ups' hq. The implication that they'd also done it in the month of preparation made it feel like everyone was joining in and getting shit done. Yes it's satisfying knowing that Gojo got to go through with something he's wanted to do for a long time, but almost everyone has the same beef with the higher ups. Give everyone or a representation of everyone a slice of the action.

5: Shoko hate: Completely unfounded. People expecting her to suddenly have so much more agency than Gege has ever given her just because they're sad about their fav is stupid. And if you need to be angry direct it at Gege's writing that chose to use her opinion for comedic purposes.

Also question why you care about her ability to do something only when it comes to your fav male characters are facing difficult situations. Remind yourself she's the only overworked bloody doctor/ healer assisted by only a 15/16 yo underskilled underprepared child (Nitta) in a society that is still facing the effects of Shibuya. Also go away stop pretending you care.

I have more issues but whatever. Jjk fans who's favs are dead and never mentioned again be glad!! They're safe!!

#sprry yuuta stans the character is fine hes just being uncompellingly used #sorry i coudnt find panels for other things I'm talking about i got tired #but i hope y'all see where I'm coming from maybe #i feel like im talking to a wall lol but whatever #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk 261 #jjk manga spoilers #jjk manga #jjk spoilers #jjk meta #gojo satoru #okkotsu yuuta #itadori yuuji #sukuna #kenjaku #ieiri shoko #jujutsu kaisen meta #i just miss what jjk used to be #waitinf for the story to get abck to the guy constantly undermined and with the most driving power and stakes and character arcs #yes multiple Yuuji's had more than 1 character arc and is currentky in one #this wall is pretty tho... pretty blank haha lolz #sigh #also no hate to characters I'm onky annoyed at gege for making them do shit #it just feels like gege has forgotten a lot of the character motivations and motifs and actual setup that has been done #yeah #no nickel for niinnyu's thoughts #hehe for you since hou reached here <3<3

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qwertyprophecy · 2 months

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Composing music for game design and narrative purposes in The Dark Queen of Mortholme

With my lamentably limited knowledge of music, composing the Mortholme OST took than the size of the game perhaps warranted. I'm happy though, since I managed to explore in the main narrative ideas I'd wanted and hopefully made the most of the format's weird limitations.

The gameplay of Mortholme is formed of you as the Queen repeatedly defeating the Hero, and them coming back to try and squeeze a few additional seconds out of every attempt. That means a few things for the main battle theme:

Interruptability required

In the early game, the music will likely only play for a couple seconds at a time. Initially I'd wanted a rather moody and atmospheric theme (y'know, back to the FromSoft roots), but quickly discovered that interrupting a slow paced track just made it sound confused. Interrupting something dramatic, on the other hand--especially a bombastic build-up--sounds funny, which is exactly what smacking some uppity heroic figure into their sudden death with a giant mace should be, for the first time.

2. Further into the track = further into the narrative

The cool thing about the format is that the better the Hero does at the fight, the longer the music has time to play. As the relationship between the Queen and the Hero develops through the deaths and the dialogue, the player will likely get to hear later parts of the song.

It's like a chance at adaptive music without having to learn how to do it! By assigning the characters their own instruments and leitmotifs, the track can develop from "the Queen's domination" to "the Hero persisting amidst it" and finally into "the Queen must acknowledge the Hero" as the Queen's brass section begins to respond to the Hero's leitmotif (while ending on a darker chord).

3. Short is sweet

With the start-and-stop, there really aren't that many seconds the full track can run. I'm not even sure if most player will realistically hear the third passage, if the game ends up being balanced to go faster. But that freed up all my leftover enthusiasm for composing to be used on variants beyond the battle theme.

There's the ominous slow variant for dialogue; a hollow, barely even melodic version for when the Hero is not in the room (the music follows the "player", after all, and a video game boss has no life beyond their visits); a Hero leitmotif heavy dialogue variant; and as the last one being currently finalised, a high tempo battle variant for phase two with synths and rock drums and basically anything I can throw in to make it sound so FINAL BOSS TIME!!! that it makes me laugh. I don't know anything about whatever this genre is either but that's fine, I put an amp on an organ and it sounds outrageous.

#the dark queen of mortholme #indie dev #video game music #game development

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omorimodreverie · 9 months

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Reverie Dev Log - November and December

Side Note: This one is quite long, if you only want an important part, there is a TL;DR summary at the bottom.

New Year Note

Happy New Year! We have now reached 2024! Reverie has begun as a little project since April 2021, before it even has its name. The more modern variant began after the demo release in August 2021, with CH1 releasing in May 2022, so it’s been a long way.

Though to admit, considering CH2.5 update came in December 2022, this means CH3 has a gap of a year now (though there are some updates and patches on 2.5 for a few months. This makes it seem like progress has been in stagnation, especially with delayed dev log recently.

This one will be shorter in technical and progress details, and more about the general gist of development plans in general, the surrounding environmental change in modding and OMORI as a whole (as that bears a great effect currently), and finally explains the slow down a bit (though a TL;DR: basically the past few months is holidays).

Also, Development post will now rather be every 2 months as well.

(And also the time is better spent on actually development than just writing, lol)

Overview

November and December for its period of time wasn’t as much done compared to previous months, though it wasn’t as bad as the worst case scenario when factoring in multiple holidays coming in that could have easily killed the motivation entirely. So all things considered, it’s relatively steady going despite the circumstances

For a quick rundown:

More NPCs implemented in maps

Writing is a bit more organized and more steady in terms of work now (And also an additional writer member!)

Portraits started to be done for most main characters

Connected up some progression from separate disjointed cutscenes

Some new plans that reduces workload*

Some enemy sprites are done as well on the side**

A few changes and re-polish on some music tracks

*for example, sunset are done on same map with filter than whole new set of maps

**Which are low priority, more of optional content in CH3 context

Updates, Changes and Needs

There are multiple factors that affect development, here it will be listed from short term factor to long term factor and potential future.

Holiday and Breaks

Let’s start with easy stuff, the short term factor. The past few months contain multiple holidays and also school breaks for some people. There isn’t much to say here, people on holidays get busy therefore less people are doing mod work, especially Christmas and New Year holiday.

(I mean, reverie is a fan mod project, not a job, lol)

Though there is still at least some minimum baseline of trying to keep interest up with some check in, so the interest doesn’t die off entirely, as mentioned in previous Dev Log before large holidays tend to be in big risk for that.

CH3 and Real World Content

One major thing to think about is the length of the real world section and the amount of content it has. The real world content has a large upfront cost due to making an entire new asset for the majority of aspects, so any new things added more will take far longer time than usual other chapters in the dream world.

There are two major aspects to consider, the mandatory story aspect, and the optional side content aspect.

Mandatory / Story Content

As of current the main story aspect of CH3 is quite short, unlike Dreamworld areas, the Real world main content mostly revolves around cutscenes and dialogues, if you speed through the dialogue and cutscenes, it could very well take only half an hour or less to go through (though that’s unlikely the way it’s played on first playthrough at least, ignoring reading time).

One conflict is that, Reverie as a mod is far more focused on Dreamworld sections and battle heavy, making real world sections a bit awkward to make, taking quite a large amount of development time compared to other dream world chapters. The question then is how much real world content should be made, factoring in development time?

Side / Optional Content

As for side content, like in base game it’s mostly NPCs giving fetch quests (which are simpler to make), or potentially jobs (which is a bit more complex).

One unique aspect of Reverie over the base game though, is some amount of gameplay battles to at least give something to do (think of Jackson poster in Hobbeez in base game, but more fleshed out).

The important question is, how much side content should there be in the real world section of reverie? While it is cool to have some side content in real world and is a common complaint on base game itself that the real world feels lackluster, making more things in real world also takes up a large amount of development time which is not ideal. It’s a balancing act between not too lackluster but also not too much content which would take too much time.

RPGMV Needs and Modding Community

And finally, the general community aspect. The OMORI fandom has aged quite a while now, and as time passes the amount of people interested is reduced as well. This project is ultimately a fan project so the amount of interest on the mod isn’t really a problem, but what does this mean is there are less people interested in OMORI and also modding in general,.

A fair amount of people who tend to do RPGMaker MV (RPGMV) works tend to now be out no longer modding, or new members who do would tend to be making own project anyways. This means there has been less people who are available with RPGMV side, which means aspects like cutscenes should be cut down smaller to avoid development hell.

What this means for development is the gears shift from previous usual development focused on efficiency (getting task as parallel as possible), to a slower but sustainable development, focusing more on sustaining interest, which is better than losing interest totally.

TL;DR

Basically, the key important points are:

Short term aspect of Holidays and New Year makes November and December slow period in general.

Real World content (and CH3 by extension) is more time consuming and harder to make than other chapters

Therefore, amount of Real World content needs to be discussed, both mandatory and optional content

There has been less people in Omori community in general meaning there is less people to go by, especially RPGMV sector

Therefore, development has switched to a more slow burn state, taking things slow but sustaining interest to avoid burn out or lost motivation

And for development posts, now will be posting every 2 months than every months instead to reduce writing.

And about Applications...

Applications are always open! RPGMV / Programmers are always appreciated!

Final Stuff

Well now that you read this far, here's some portrait of Daphne and Bowen! (and also probably the only few sprite that is showable related to CH3 now)

There isn't much detail, but when resized down it is enough as a sprite

#omori #omori mod #mod #omorimodreverie #reverie #omori reverie #devlog

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fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic · 10 months

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Good Omens Fic Rec: sanctuary

“You’re staring.” “Oh dear,” says Aziraphale, completely unapologetic. “How rude of me.” Crowley begins to smile something slow, bright, and lovely, but he schools it with a bite to his lower lip. Aziraphale thinks of the way he looked two millennia ago, pressed up against the wall with Aziraphale's blessing healing his wounds, the only demon to experience divine ecstasy and live to tell the tale. How Aziraphale's hands itch to do it again, and again, and again. Crowley opens his mouth as if to say something, but then stops and spins around instead to go back to stirring the curry. “Shut up,” he says to the stove, flustered.

Length: 22,635 words

AO3 Rating: Teen and Up

Best for: Safe for public, best at home, fluffy but in an angsty way? romantic

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by moonyinpisces

*Minor Spoilers* I've been feeling very restless tonight, couldn't settle, it took me a couple hours to actually sit down and read this once I had it pulled up. Once I started, it's like everything quieted and I was able to just soak this story up. It's poetic without being dense. Complex and introspective but not heavy. This is an Aziraphale centric story following his anxieties after the thwarted apocalypse. Things have changed and Aziraphale is desperate to regain some control. I love the flashbacks. They give context to Aziraphale and how he feels about the Heaven, God, and Crowley in some clear ways but also at the end a new meaning is revealed. I love what Aziraphale later reveals about those memories. It was very impactful. You'll have to see why for yourself on that one.

The prose here is excellent, but I want to especially compliment the dialogue. I feel it was very close to canon. It was very easy for me to read it in their voices. Aziraphale uses the word "flim-flam" at one point and now I need to hear it in season three. Top notch longing, yearning, tenderness, agony. All the good stuff. The kind that breaks your heart a little bit, but also makes you believe love is real actually. Oh and the quotes in between sections, *chefs kiss*. You could read this in public if you wanted to. But it's a quick read and so cozy it should be savored at home. Like I wish I had a proper bathtub so I could read this in a candle lit bath. That sort of read.

Read it here, fic by moonyinpisces

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king-paimon · 1 year

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Houseki no Kuni Chapter 104 Thoughts: "My Way" By Frank Sinatra

Hello everyone! I hope your month had gone by well. Mine had been...eventful, to say the least, though I suppose things could have turned out much worse.

Anyways, that's not what this is about. I just finished going through the latest chapter and... wow. That last image. Many fans have pointed out the signs, and I think it's safe to say that those last few pages confirm how this long saga is finally going to end...

BUT before I get into that, as always, I'll share some of my thoughts in this post. This will be long and ramble-y as usual (I truly meant to keep it short this time, I swear! It just kept getting longer and longer...) and I may come back to update some things. And as always, please feel free to share your own thoughts!

BTW: After reading this chapter a few more times and struggling with a title for the post, "My Way" by Frank Sinatra kept popping up in my head. It's honestly pretty fitting. That's why it's my title now. Please look up the song and lyrics when you get the chance and you'll hopefully see what I mean.

View of Humanity Through Untainted Eyes (Or lack thereof...)

Like the last couple of chapters, this chapter was dialogue heavy and it was admittedly hard to pick which parts I liked the most. Eyeball's (Or should I address him as "Brother"?... I'm sticking with "Eyeball") dramatic performance at the beginning was very funny and informative. It really showed how much he not only hated humanity and yet valued the professor during her final moments. And his talk with Phos at the end of the chapter was engrossing. But for this section, I'll mostly focus on Phos's interactions with the pebbles; I'll focus more on the first pebble in the following section.

Phos has truly become a teacher/mentor-like figure ( and dare I say even parental figure) for these pebbles, especially because of how they spoke to them. Phos literally reminded me of a thoughtful pre-school teacher with how patient they are with each of the pebbles and giving them the chance to express their differing opinions and giving what I think were appropriate responses. In some ways, Phos's mannerisms in this chapter reminded me of Adamant, though Phos's approach with these pebbles seems more gently, at least to me.

Hmm...You know what's funny? As I was writing this portion, a little thought popped into my head claiming that Phos may have inadvertently adopted more of Adamant's habits than I first realized. I'll try to explain more on this in the next portion.

But let me first go back to another thing that I liked about Phos's interaction with the pebbles: their individual responses. It could have been so easy to have the pebbles all be likeminded after hearing the history of humans, but that's not what we got. Each pebble had their own opinion; some were curious, some were scared, some were right in the middle, and a few seemingly blasé. I don't know why but I like how these varying responses further emphasize that the pebbles individuality goes deeper than their varying appearances and mannerisms. And I'm also thankful that Phos and Eyeball weren't seemingly perturbed by their responses... at least Eyeball wasn't.

"I want everyone to be happy": Naivety or Profound Point of View?

Now let's focus on the main pebble, because of course, out of all the responses, their response to Phos and Eyeball had the most weight despite how simple it sounds on the surface.

You can argue that the pebble's response was due to their naiveté, but I think this pebble has repeatedly shown that their nuanced view of the world around them is sophisticated and mindful. After being told by Phos and Eyeball about how fascinating and yet awful humans were and even acknowledging humanities good and bad qualities, the pebble still believed that everyone deserves happiness, even those considered "bad".

I couldn't agree more with Eyeball and Phos on this page:

At first, I thought that these innocent and yet wise responses reminded me of old Phos, but the more I thought about it, this couldn't be further from the truth. While Phos was also very naïve at the beginning of the story, I think they were to lost in their own heads to truly think outside of their own unrealized desires, even when they claim their actions were to help everyone. So if you were to tell old Phos the stories of humanity and ask them the same questions, I don't think we would have gotten the same answers the pebble gave. And the more I think about, I doubt Phos would have ever made the same conclusion at any point in their story. There's nothing wrong with that, but that just has me thinking... It's interesting how this small pebbles seem more empathy for others than the previous human descendants, from the Lunarians, Admirabilis, and the even the Lustrous, even though they looked more human.

Tell me what you think! This was weird character analysis tangent and I'm curious to know if anyone has feels similarly or differently. But speaking of Phos's character... Onto the next section!

Friend to Closed Off Guardian: The barrier between Phos and the pebbles

While I was typing the paragraph that focused on Phos's mentor-like persona, I made a small realization. Is it just me or doesn't Phos's interactions with the pebbles feel different now? Yes, I pointed out that Phos is acting like a kind teacher in this chapter and I could be overanalyzing this, but while this interaction is cute on the surface, I can't help but feel there is more to this interaction. This is why I brought up Adamant, for Phos's interactions with the pebbles in this chapter reminded me of a certain aspect of Adamant's old relationship with the Lustrous.

As you may recall, Adamant assumed a leader/guardian role with the Lustrous over time. He had many reasons of doing so, including for their protection, but assuming this role came at a price; Adamant ended up keeping the Lustrous at an emotion distance. With the exception of Antarctictite and eventually Phos and Euclase, Adamant closed himself off from forming true close relationships to the gems, for their sake and his, effectively creating a barrier between them. This barrier only became obsolete after Adamant finally relented and opened up to the Earth gems after Phos's first attack on them, and even if it were just for a short time, Adamant and the Lustrous interacted on a somewhat equal footing.

Now lets go back to how Phos initially interacted with the pebbles. Not long after Phos found the first pebble, they didn't interact like how Adamant used to with the Lustrous. The two talked freely and sang together without a care in the world. Though Phos and this pebble are vastly different in many ways, it was clear that Phos saw them as a friend. An equal. And Phos was happy.

But now look at how Phos interacts with the pebbles now. I don't see Phos's interaction with the first pebble or any of the pebbles the same way anymore. Yes, Phos encourages the pebbles to speak freely, but to me, it feels like the same can't be said about Phos now. Phos isn't speaking as freely as they did before. They are selective in how they address the pebbles, kind of like Adamant. Phos is acting more like their guardian rather than their friend... like Adamant used to. Phos is fully embodying Adamants old role now and it's a little sad the more I think about.

After being alone for so long in more ways than one, Phos had finally found beings who treated them like a real friend. But because something in them changed, Phos is now slowly but surely assuming their role as the pebbles guardian and in doing so, that friendship connection is being replaced by a similar barrier that Adamant once donned.

Like I said, I'm probably overthinking this and giving Haruko Ichikawa more credit than what's due, but I just can't help but think about the parallels here. What do you think?

Acceptance: The End is Near

The last thing I'll touch on are the last few pages because...wow.

If I remember correctly from posts made by some keen eyed fans, the story had been hinting that the main sun is about to die. And one of the final stages of a star's death is that it would expand into either a red giant or a red super-giant, which was being depicted in that last image.

And if I'm interpreting those last few pages correctly, it seems that both Phos and Eyeball are aware that the sun will eventually consume the Earth. It will take a couple more thousand of years, but as we've seen here and in the previous chapters, time doesn't matter. The real end of everything is coming and those two are accepting it.

Yup. It looks like we have true confirmation for how this saga is going to finally end. And just like those two, I'm ready for it. Not out hatred or anything truly negative towards this series... I just feel like I'm ready for that final curtain call for this unique, thought provoking, and strenuous story.

I just hope the end will be a worthy end.

WHEW. This post ended up being even longer than I originally intended! Sorry about that. Regardless, I hope you liked it. Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts, even if you don't agree with me!

Until next time!

#houseki no kuni #land of the lustrous #hnk #hnk spoilers #hnk thoughts #hnk chapter 104 #hnk phos #hnk spoiler #hnk phosphophyllite #hnk meta #hnk manga spoilers #haruko ichikawa #hnk manga #lotl #hnk adamant

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emblemxeno · 1 year

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Definitive “Feelings On 3H” Post

So I’m making one big post on my feelings on major things worth discussing about 3H and how I feel about it. Don’t feel obligated to really interact with this one much, it’s mostly just for my sake, as something I can just link to and say “go to section X about how I feel about Y”.

The reason behind this is I just don’t really want to actively engage in 3H discourse anymore. I feel as if I’m a broken record at this point. If I have new things to say about it somehow, I’ll say it, but for the most part, I’ll refer people to this if they wanna know how I feel about general 3H talk.

Story

Story Section 1- General narrative feelings on each route.

Azure Moon is, in my opinion, the most solidly constructed route in terms of writing, character development, and storytelling. It knows what it wants to accomplish and, aside from a few gripes, I will always applaud it for that. Verdant Wind and Silver Snow meanwhile, aren’t bad and I certainly didn’t have a terrible time playing through them. However, the unique story bits in each route don’t justify the gameplay experience you have to work through in order to get to them. Still, the big reveals in each route were nice to hear for the first time, and specifically for VW I enjoy Claude very much. Crimson Flower I don’t enjoy that much at all. Its story is what I can only describe as a static, eye-roll inducing victory march, which makes up for its lack of length with its seemingly intentional negative character development; everyone is ignorant, an asshole, or sad as fuck aside from the CF exlcusive cast. I would give the route props had the game bothered to stand in its foundation rather than flounder and make numerous attempts to depict every perspective as absolutely equally valid and righteous.

Story Section 2- In trying to appeal to every perspective, the game lacks focus, foundation, and respect for itself.

It should be expected that a game with multiple routes tackle different specific subjects. However, in Fire Emblem, there always, always manages to be a unifying theme or foundational story philosophy-an Aesopian type moral if you will-no matter the route. Alm and Celica learn that their one individual philosophies can’t exist on their own, and that leadership requires strength and compassion of equal measure. Eirika and Ephraim learn that personal wishes must take a backseat for the good of Renais and Magvel as a whole, as their routes in FE8 use their own weaknesses to develop them as leaders and royalty. Corrin’s one constant in the Fates games is that conflict is inherently meaningless and does nothing but perpetuate a brutal cycle of hatred, vengeance, and violence.

Even in games like FE7 and FE10, where the technical ‘route splits’ are more unconventional, there’s still unifying themes that manage to wrap back around at the end (7′s ‘single-minded pursuit of justice and strength/power to protect can actively hurt you and those around you, especially if you are ignorant to the pain others are going through’ and 10′s ‘people have as much capacity to be good as they have to be evil, they will hurt each other due to petty misunderstandings and bigoted views, however, they are worthy of living as they are because of the ability to grow, change, and aspire to something better’).

3H, to put it simply, does not have any grand unifying theme unique to itself. The closest examples I can think of is ‘It’s worth it to reach out to those around you to share your pain so you don’t become engulfed in it’ and ‘no matter what side you fight for, war makes everyday life a living hell for everyone’.

But to me, both of those things are just... basic truths and story elements present in every dialogue heavy FE game. War has been showcased as being terrible since FE1, where characters were held hostage, threatened to fight for a cause they didn’t believe in, innocent villages were destroyed, there was a literal child slave market, etc. And sharing your pain with those close to you in order to bear life’s challenges has been a constant trope with many FE characters, story significant or otherwise, since at least FE6 with Guninivere (probably earlier if I’m missing something from FE4 or 5). The only difference is that 3H has a fun little song to go with it.

That leaves the specific themes of each route and perspective, but because each leading character is so different from the other, and the writers didn’t want to overtly favor one over the rest, every dialogue regarding these things feels compromised; half baked, or lacking a point.

‘Crests are symbolic of a harmful power structure but also are a symbol of justice used to ward away threats but also are a tool used to gain social and political capital in order to change the world but also are an ancient power obtained through destruction that must be used with wisdom.’ Four different perspectives from four different routes that the game attempts to depict in a balance in almost every single dialogue regarding them. And this same process is applicable to the game’s attempts at discussing race/ethnicity, xenophobia, classism, religious views, mental health, etc. There always has to be two, three, four, or five sides to every story in 3H, and that results in an exhuasting and stretched thin narrative that, in its attempts to appeal to everyone, ends up lacking substance in every point it tries to make.

Now, that itself would make for a fascinating and meta theme for the game to uphold, where ‘attempts at trying to balance and accept every perspective leads to an ineffective world that desperately needs unwavering, unconditional, and compassionate leadership’ but 1) that would require the game to play up the need for ‘seeing every side’ as something to be deconstructed, and the game doesn’t do that, it’s played painfully straight, and 2) when it’s one major power (Edelgard) vs. three major powers (Dimitri, Claude, and Rhea), the attempt at balance fails no matter what you do. This lack of focus reads to me that there was lack of respect for the game’s story itself.

Story Section 3- “It insists upon itself, Lois.”

Every time I think about the finer details of story bits in 3H I don’t care for, my brain always comes back to that Family Guy scene where Peter talks about not caring for The Godfather and saying that it’s because the movie insists upon itself. Now, that was done for comedy, but for 3H I must say that it’s a perfect sentence to use. 3H insists upon itself. This is in spite of the fact that there’s no one unifying point that it’s trying to convey to the player, beyond what any other FE games was able to do. So to make up for that, each small instance reads like the game beating the player over the head with whatever minute moral or lesson it’s trying to convey.

Crests are bad? Roll out the Edelgard, Sylvain, or Lysithea dialogue saying so. Church is sus? Get Edelgard or occasionally Claude. Nobles are pretentious? Get the sad NPCs or the few actual commoner characters to imply it. War is bad and cruel? Fire the next “Sad Dorothea” dialogue at the player’s face. Interactions feel artificial, ostentatious even. Part of that is because there’s no other way to get these points across due to Byleth being a silent avatar, the other part though? Feels as if the writers were overtly proud of themselves. “Wow, the war means Bernadetta leaves her room more often, isn’t that a sign that it really changes people?” Yeah, no shit.

Perhaps the most egregious example is the endless instances of the game pushing the idea that there’s “no good side” in war or that “war is a battle of ideals and no one is fully correct” or other moments that want the player to know how deep and Morally Gray the narrative is. It’s cheap and inauthentic, especially when you have a faction like the Slithers. You can’t prop up Gray Morality and have an inarguably evil underground terrorist group.

To be crude, this game explains things to you like you’re five despite being rated T for teens in a series catered mostly to young adults. I get the point you’re trying to make, you did it poorly, now stop repeating yourself, your final grade is a D+.

Story Section 4- 3H likes spectacle over substance.

3H revels in being showy over being constructive. There’s great moments, but there’s not a great plot.

For example, Byleth has many flashy moments that show how awesome they are! They’re connected to a goddess, they can wind back time, they have a super cool historical sword, they’re a top tier mercenary, they’re a great teacher, they’re next in line for Archbishop or the throne for all of Fodlan, their Crest is the game’s version of the Fire Emblem!

Cool! What’s the significance behind all these choices in the writing room? Seemingly next to nothing other than it sounded cool. That’s how it feels anyway.

The SotC doesn’t do anything in the story beyond be Sothis’ bones, likewise the Crest of Flames is nothing other than symbolic since it lacks gameplay or story significance beyond “main characters have it”, Divine Pulse has weak narrative justification for what should be a simple gameplay exclusive rewind, the goddess in question is an underutilized character who checks out before part 1 ends, there’s no gameplay basis showcasing that they’re any better at fighting than their students, and every high level position Byleth is granted makes no sense for them to have given what little established character we get.

That’s 3H in a nutshell. Crests don’t matter other than to be a story device. Being noble or commoner doesn’t matter. The hidden technology doesn’t matter. Abyss is a joke. And on and on and on. 3H profits off of being enticing and cool looking for the sake of it, without actually utilizing or explaining any of this flashy stuff that matters for a video game medium. It makes for underwhelming gameplay and artificial characters. Example, for as much as I love Yuri, take a few minutes to read his backstory; it’s batshit and nigh unbelievable. And it’s indicative of the fact that 3H cares more about including things that sound cool than it does about making sense of anything. We see the impact, but never any material significance, which is the opposite of what you want in a detail oriented narrative like this.

Story Section 5- 3H has very gross tropes.

During 3H’s first year of being out, I desperately wanted to stay true to a view that “hey now, just because it’s depicted like this, doesn’t mean we should blast it, it’s just a video game” but, y’know. I grew up. And part of growing up is recognizing the nuanced parts of these kinds of things.

I won’t accuse the writers of being actively ignorant or bigoted, cuz I don’t know anything about them. But fuck. Fuck, does this game read worse and worse over the years in terms of how utterly terribly it handles sensitive issues.

Multiple brown characters treated like trash by the white/pale majority, with countries said brown characters hail from described as savage and animalistic. Rampant misogynistic tropes, most notably selling women off to be married. Strange, and incessant sympathy for the character starting a war that upends the lives of common people, said character also allowing human experimentation to occur. The offensive and archaic handling of mental illnesses, specifically anxiety disorders, personality disorders, and PTSD in certain instances (IMO only Dimitri and Marianne are done with any sort of grace). And that’s just the explicit stuff! Just the other day I was talking about how there’s incredibly disturbing anti-Semitic undertones regarding the Empire (confirmed to be based on Germany btw) and the Nabateans, something that’s, at times, uncritically repeated by people in this game’s community. This game is mired in terrible allegories and metaphors, which make me cringe the more I think about the real world implications that these lines of thought can have on people in volatile corners of the Internet.

And the kicker is that the writers are so committed to making these things relate to Crests or nobility, as if either of those things are strictly the reason why oppression or discrimination occurs.

The game employs drastic harmful stereotypes, and undercuts all of them by foisting its half-baked unique gameplay/lore toy onto the conversations. It fumbles the ball and didn’t even clean up the mess well.

Characters

I have a tier list of how much I enjoy the characters right here.

Long story short, when the characters are good, they’re good. Like, holy fuck, love them. But when they’re bad? Throw them away. Can’t stand them. And sometimes characters fall in the middle where I see the good but they’re at times written in ways that piss me off.

Worldbuilding/Setting - More is not always better

First off, when you make a character tell the player “Go read in the library for lore”, you’ve lost me. There’s nothing fun and interesting in 3H as a game for you to read in the library.

Fire Emblem’s gameplay cycle doesn’t mesh too well with the typical JRPG standard of storytelling, so the common solutions to building the world and crafting the stories was 1) make as much use as possible of cutscenes, art/cgs, and narrations to communicate the important details before and after battles and/or 2) make an intuitive inclusion to ‘break the pace’ between maps, such as a home base, in order to supplement what’s already present. Alongside this, support conversations were an ingenious tool to develop the characters and the world at the same time, as your varied and quirky cast can help you infer what their place of origin is like. Plus, the game actively rewards the player for seeking this auxiliary information out, granting extra stat bonuses when you purposefully put characters next to each other.

3H, on paper, understands this well. However, the game has too many minute details for a typical FE game structure to handle. The devs themselves even said the game became a “living creature on its own” and claimed no one on the team knows everything about 3H’s story or world. Ignoring how that’s a serious flaw for a video game narrative, what this ultimately means is that since cutscnes and a standard base can’t cut it, we need more and more and more. Libraries, side quests, tea time, ally notes, gifts, NPCs that exposit at you, etc. The DLC even added another damn library for you to sift through, as if the first one wasn’t a pain already.

And though these little flavor texts, landmarks, and set pieces are fun to read about... that’s it. The game hardly uses any of it. It’s flavor without substance, once again. It’s why half the fucking fandom is confused every other day when you bring up these tertiary details as evidence to prove a point, since the active story is too busy trying to weave the other 600 plot threads together to use any of it. That means, for all of this supposed great details regarding each nation and the important territories, we hardly see a damn thing that’s actually different. More is not always better, and in this case, it’s actively worse for both the game experience and the community experience. Not a good look for a game that the devs explicitly wanted people to talk to each other about.

As a fan of FE ever since 2013, who has gone back to play several of the games to see how they tick, 3H’s methods of describing its setting are just so antithetical to what makes the series enjoyable, and for so little reward. It sounds hypocritical given that I love Fates and Engage, but those games actively set up their glorified bases to be as unintrusive as you want them to be. 3H, however, has its gameplay built around a boring and unintuitive cycle.

Gameplay- Fire Emblem but half the time you’re not playing Fire Emblem

Gameplay Section 1-Monastery

The monastery is the most debated gameplay aspect of 3H, and IMO, for good reason.

It sucks.

Worldbuilding wise, while it makes sense that an important location is the hub for the game, that doesn’t account for how dull it is. 12 months and 4 seasons pass and does the place ever look different? No. A shame, since an improved aesthetic would drastically help ignoring the fact that the place is a bitch to traverse. For as fast as Byleth can run, they can’t outspeed the load times. Quick travel only makes the issue more apparent, as well. From door to door, and from week to week, you’ll endure more load times in one in-game month than an entire playthrough of a GBA FE game.

The other aspects of the monastery gameplay, such as teaching, activities, professor level, and motivation, while freshly fun in a first playthrough, become a repetitive slog in subsequent playthroughs. Giving gifts and lost items, eating meals, planting the right things for the garden, optimizing support point gains, using the sauna, taking care of the statues, etc. This cycle is not something I enjoy in an FE game, and unlike Fates or Engage, I can’t actively ignore it without huge penalty.

You can skip right to each main mission, but you’d be giving yourself a huge handicap by doing so; not actively teaching students at max motivation in order to maximize skill point gain is a huge detriment in the long term. It means longer wait for better weapons, longer wait for better spells, longer wait for class change, and longer wait for better skills and battalions. Now on Normal you can get away with this, not as much on Hard, and sure the fuck not on Maddening. To me, it feels like sloppy balancing on top of an already exhausting and dull game cycle. Why let the player skip months if you didn’t bother to carefully balance the game so that the players who do skip months could have even a small chance to clear the game? Honestly, it just feels as if they thought “people might find it annoying so let’s just tack on a skip feature”, and that’s disappointing and lazy.

Overall, I hope nothing similar to the monastery’s implementation is included in any future Fire Emblem game. It’s too antithetical to FE’s main gameplay structure, IMO.

Gameplay Section 2-Battles

To be honest, Fire Emblem has never been the pinnacle of balanced gameplay, and frankly I don’t want it to be. It’s a single player game with fun anime sword guys, magic powers, and dragons. So long as it’s not dreadfully easy or overly complicated, I have no qualms about certain classes or characters being better or worse than others.

3H though is a mess. A fun mess, but still a mess. Movement decrease to foot units means you want a mount cuz the game’s maps are big, and the speed penalty for cav classes means you want a wyvern or a pegasus. Physical units do just that (or maybe War Master for Quick Riposte), you get your dancer, have a Stride unit, have your Magic units and warpers where you need them, and congrats! You solved the 3H meta.

Half-joking, honestly. The game is extremely easy to break, the hardest part is getting to that point (after all, slugging through the monastery is a bigger test of your patience than anything else). Maddening mode, of course, you have be extra careful in the beginning (cuz they probably didn’t play test it cough cough) and utilize your combat arts and gambits effectively, and being extremely conscious of positioning. But, much like Awakening before it, 3H is very easy to snowball. Especially on NG+. That doesn’t mean it’s not fun, but it can get mindless. I don’t personally play that way, but even still, tools such as weapons mostly not being class restricted, Crests, combat arts, gambits, and accessories make the game incredibly simple. It’s a breeze, and only gets harder when certain things are stripped away from you or your debilitated somehow. Again, it’s still fun, because FE is always fun, but challenging? No. Not in a way that I find meaningful, anyway.

The maps themselves? Meh. They look pretty! Lots of small missable details that you wouldn’t see if not for the zoomed in view, that was a neat feature. Not at all useable for actually playing the game, of course, but fun to mess with and to sight see. It does make me resentful, cuz again, we could’ve potentially seen lots of rich, detailed, and varied locations bustling with townsfolk and entering villages to really feel each location. But alas, this is as good as we get.

Anyway, the maps are...fine-ish? Part 1′s maps are seared into my brain, for better and for worse (mostly worse) cuz you have to play them at least 3 different times for all the routes. Prologue through Chapter 5 are either boring, terrible, or both. Chapter 6 is the first map on my most recent playthrough that I say I had fun with in Part 1, then it continues for 7 and 8, then nosedives for 9 and 10, before picking back up for 11 and 12. In short, more than half the story maps for part 1 I find are either unexceptional or plain bad.

Now Part 2? Hunting By Daybreak is atrocious, Garreg Mach defense is pretty fun, Ailell is boring as fuck, Myrddin Bridge and Deirdru are good, Gronder Part 2 ebbs and flows between being awesome and awful, Merceus, Enbarr, and Fhirdiad are okay but tend to drag, Tailtean is alright, Shambhala is hot garbage, CF endgame is pretty fun, AM endgame is okay, VW endgame is awesome, Snow endgame is terrible. I think all routes’ part 2 is better than part 1, but not by much.

All of Cindered Shadows is peak, every map was good IMO.

Paralogue maps I have no opinions on, they are recycled maps with nothing meaningfully interesting about them that I remember aside from Dedue’s, Ashe’s, and Petra’s.

In short, the battle maps in 3H are okay for FE standards. It’s just pretty fucking insane how many times they get reused, so I got tired of them very quickly.

Fandom

Last but not least, just a shoutout to a very unpleasant community experience. Though it might be the best selling FE game as of now, it comes with the price of having some incredibly disrespectful, vicious, and ignorant fans.

Never have I been witness to or been the target of as much harassment on the internet as I have with certain 3H fans. Entire discord servers made to make fun of groups of people with differing opinions, taking over old blog domains to mock people, deliberately seeking out people who want nothing to do with you just so you can defend your favs, etc. And that’s just on this site! There’s editing wars on TV tropes and the wikis, mods on various sites having to do deleting sprees of 3H discourse, artists being harassed on Twitter, and in general just... inserting yourselves into places and spaces where you were not invited nor encouraged to comment. Some of these people lack basic human deceny, respect, and boundaries, and it’s not cool.

Part of the reason why I’m breaking away from 3H now is because this behavior is something I got wrapped up in too, and I’m deeply ashamed of it. It’s toxic, and not at all something I want associated with one of my favorite video game series anymore. I got real life things to worry about and other games to play.

Anyway, that’s pretty much it. All of my general thoughts on 3H, localized on one post. Sayonara, Fodlan Discourse, you won’t be missed. 🤗

#fire emblem discourse #edelgardiscourse #three houses discourse #rant #definitive 3h post #seriously though this stuff gives me metaphorical hives #and this will save me headaches and brain power in the long run

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