#oh and books! a lot of books! and a library maybe

[pokemonshelterstories]

Today, my little sister came crying from the park because a bunch of kids told her that "the magikarps in the pond could evolve into Gyarados ANY TIME and eat her".

I wanted to reassure her, but unfort I dont know enough about how Gyarados work to say anything other than "That's impossible and not going to happen" so it wasn't really useful. Is there any scientific reason or explanation about how they evolve that I can tell her???

Thanks!!

oh, geez. poor kid.

the big thing with gyarados is they need a LOT of space. they really need a full lake to be able to evolve. a pond in a park just can't support a gyarados! most magikarp never evolve in the wild, and they pretty much always evolve in relatively secluded large bodies of water. you can even call your local parks and rec service to ask if there have ever been any gyarados in the park, and i'll bet the answer is no.

i was always a really nervous kid, and i had people bully me by trying to scare me a lot. i coped with it by learning about the things that scared me until i could handle them. maybe you can take your sister to a library and look for some books about magikarp so she can understand more about magikarp life cycles in the wild!

[trashydez]

like a phoenix. (2.7k words)

what if phoenix- instead of being virtually indestructible, actually wasnt? what if he was actually incredibly prone to death, but he just… never stayed dead?

(trigger warning for a multitude of causes of deaths!! some in detail and some not. other tw’s include implied suicide attempts, implied child neglect, derealisation and thinking one is already dead. be warned! take care of yourself!)

at 9, he wakes in his bed after having a high fever and his mom ships him off to school hours after it began. he finds it odd, because last he’d checked his temperature (that morning, when he told his mom he felt like he was going to die and his mom had left to go run errands, barely sparing him a glance), his temperature had been at 107 degrees farenheit. that was definitely high, but after he slipped into unconsciousness, writhing and restless and in a lot of pain, he woke up to his mother checking his temperature and saying he was fine to head off to school. he didnt feel fine, but his temperature had gone down significantly enough that his mother felt like he had no excuse not to go. hes glad he went to school though, even as he shivered, sneezed and sniffled, because there he found a friend in a boy with a funny bowtie and a heart made of gold.

he crunches and chokes on glass shards and poison but doesnt die. the doctors dont find anything wrong with him, aside from feeling a bit ill, so he goes back into the courtroom and dollie is convicted of murder. hes happy his roommate is away for some theatre troupe thing, because the sickness eventually catches up to him and he throws up shards of glass, acid and blood. it cuts into his throat and burns his eyes and he swears, he swears he dies right then and there, freezing and shaking and everything hurts. but when he wakes up hours later, the sun having set and the only light source in his dingy dormroom the moon outside, hes amazed to not feel sick anymore. but the puddle of sludge is drying beside his face and he considers himself lucky, or maybe unlucky, because unlike dahlia’s other victims, he actually lives to tell the tale.

phoenix arrives early to the office, having been in the public library nearby reading a book on reincarnation. he enters the office and promptly has his skull caved into his brain. he does not see his assailant, but when he wakes, theres an oddly dressed girl crying, crouched over his boss’ cold body. he doesn’t think about the drying blood in the back of his head, or how cold mia’s body is (and why he can even tell, considering the fact he has not touched her corpse) or the chapter in the book he’d been reading that talked about quantum immortality— all he thinks of is proving maya fey’s innocence.

as it turns out, being constantly anxious and terrified of mortal peril actually has its perks. maybe the fact he’s a lawyer whose only ever dealt with homicide cases definitely wasn’t benefiting his mental wellbeing either. in any case, its that fear of literally everything and constant feeling of impending doom that makes his body react before his mind does. taser! danger! maya! so, he gets tasered. and it fucking HURTS, but he feels more relieved than frightened as the searing pain shoots through him, because he’d been able to push maya away before von karma got to them both. wasnt a symptom of death by electrocution an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and imminent death? maybe he was going crazy. when he comes back though, its to his head in the lap of a crying spirit medium, so maybe a psychotic break isnt too bad if it means everyone else gets to escape with no damage to their own psyche.

its only after she stops screaming in terror- oh my god, nicks a zombie!! kyahh!!!- and nearly beating him with her bulky magatama necklace, that she tells him what she saw. (“like, there was a sudden bright light and then i realised it was coming from you! but when i tried to touch your glowing skin,” she says it like its the most absurd thing she’d ever seen, which really said something considering the fact she was from a family of people who could channelthe dead “it was HOT! like, japanifornia summer hot! blazing! i was only able to check your pulse after you cooled down a bit…”). maybe its this that makes him less alarmed by the way his skin glowed in the dark of his trashed bedroom, after drinking himself to death following a certain phone call from a terribly sad, newly bossless detective. he doesnt think he can bear the taste alcohol ever again, after that.

maybe the number of times he’s died of blunt force trauma to the head should be a cause for concern, even more so when he wakes up without any of his memories. he’s terrified, and doesnt even knows who he is, until he does, and is able to prove maggey byrde innocent. fun times! he should probably watch out to make sure his next death wasn’t to the head, lest he be as mentally impaired as a number of people liked to say he was… (and he should probably also be concerned by the fact he was already thinking of the next time he’d die, but ah well, blame it on the concussion).

as it turns out, getting whipped to death was not on his list of ways he thought he’d die next, but life liked to mess with him like that, it seemed. still, dragging his delirious self to the bathroom of his office to try and save the infected wounds from killing him wasn’t all that fun, and he’s immediately reminded of his first death, slow and painful, alone and scared of what came next. he feels bad for feeling relieved when maya shows up and screams upon seeing the state he and the bathroom (that’d he’d accidentally trashed when his legs gave out after he opened the door, a number of bottles fallen to the floor beside him) were in. he stops her from calling the police- there was no point, he didn’t have much time left. but when she asks what she could do, he goes quiet. (…just… stay here? i dont- he coughs up a distinctly red shade of spit. maya makes a noise between a choked cry and a whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. but phoenix was shivering worse now, and hugs himself tigher. i dont want to die alone.) so she stays with him, on the cold bathroom floor, as his labored breathing eventually slows. when he awakens, he finds maya asleep leaning against him, and promises to get her burgers as a thank you.

who knew death by a monkey throwing a giant bronze bust of max galactica at you could happen? at this point, he’s almost glad he was basically immortal, because there was no way in hell he’d allow his autopsy report to say ‘cause of death: monkey manslaughter’! edgeworth would laugh himself to tears if he saw! not that he could see. or cry, because he was dead. and not coming back. damn.

so edgeworth isnt dead! yippee? he thought it was his thing to get reanimated after death, not edgeworths. when he saw him, standing in the middle of the police department, alive and breathing and very much not dead, he nearly started laughing. he must’ve finally gone insane! curse the amount of times he’d died of brain related injuries, not that he knew how many of them there were at this point. he might actually have laughed a bit, because pearls was looking at him like he was losing it (he was) but he couldnt really bring himself to care as he had more pressing issues at hand, like saving his best friend from a crazy serial killer holding her hostage, and punching his other best friend in the face for faking his own death (because really, dying was his thing! not edgeworths!). and if he pulls edgeworth into a hug immediately after, throwing caution in the wind (you only live once, right?), the warmth- a normal, human temperature, unlike his burning hot when he came back from death- is enough to stabilise his harried mind for just a moment, before he has to return to his guilty client and his hopeless situation.

by some crazy turn of events, he actually doesnt die from having boiling hot coffee thrown at his face. it burns, and maya screams when she sees the boils on his face after that first trial with godot, but after throwing a wet towel over his face and putting him in timeout on the sofa for 12-hours, the burns go away as if they were never there. he fell asleep at some point, and after alot of back and forth debate, they eventually came to the conclusion that 1. his body heat rising to burning levels when he dies must have caused his body has to grow immune to heat and 2. since sleep was like a ‘temporary death’, a ‘temporary wound’ would just heal like it did when he died of normal wounds, right? he didn’t want to dwell on it too much, because maya was looking at him like she wanted to test that theory for real, so he quickly changes topics before things got out of hand.

so their theory on the immunity to heat thing was correct! …almost. larry had tried to stop him, but it was fire and he was basically immune to heat, right? nope! his skin burned and boiled but he didn’t die as he tried to run across the burning bridge. even so, nothing hurt more than falling through one of the burnt planks and slamming onto the surface of the freezing cold rushing stream below. luckily the death was near immediate, but unfortunately he came to while in the water still, so he swallowed a sizeable amount of water before paramedics arrived. he hears the doctors find his survival miraculous, despite the scorching hot fever he was now under. he blacks out again, and comes to in the hospital, feeling absolutely terrible.

the horribleness feels familiar though, and when edgeworth walks in, he realises what it must be, when the man presses the back of his hand to his temple and quickly pulls his hand away as if burned. (oh. he thinks, tearing up despite himself. it must be the fever. i’m going to die like this again.) his internal monologue must’ve been external though, because edgeworth balks (‘again?!’). but phoenix was crying in hiccups and sobs, feeling terrible and like he was nine years old again, wishing his mother were there to nurse him back to health like she’d never done before. he faintly hears edgeworth sitting down on his bed and reaches out, gripping the mans waist like it was a lifeline. in a sense, it was. “don’t go.” he whispers, gripping the man tighter like he’d disappear into thin air (again). “please, please don’t go.” in his delirium, he nearly wails in despair when he feels edgeworth move, but he was only moving to readjust himself so he’s lying next to him, their bodies so close that it must burn, but the only sign edgeworth shows that he’s in pain is a wince and the crease of his brow. he allows himself to be cried on, curling a protective arm over phoenix’s burning body. “i- i dont know what’s going on, wright, but i’m not, i’m not going anywhere, okay?” he seems to be attempting exasperation, but it comes out terrified and concerned, but phoenix is fading quickly, so it might just be his waning mind making up things that don’t exist. “i am terrified. your body is life threateningly hot and— wright? wright!”

he comes to with nurses surrounding him, and a distressed edgeworth swearing on his life that that man was dead, his body was seizing and on fire and- and his heart stopped beating! but phoenix couldn’t dwell on it, because the mention of fire immediately brought him back to why he was in the hospital at all. and plus, it gave him the chance to use his best friends sensitive treatment of him afterwards to convince him to play defense attorney, so that was nice. still, he feels like he dies when he finds out dahlia had actually been iris and that godot was actually his dead mentors apparently not dead boyfriend. oh, and he was also a murderer. he also feels like he dies when dahlia- actual, serial killer and dead by execution dahlia, was exorcised from maya’s body. but that had more to do with his soul leaving his body in terror rather than actually dying, so that was a nice change of pace… probably.

later, he’d had to have a conversation with edgeworth to give him an explanation on just what the hell he’d witnessed in that hospital room. although, apparently his re-aliving symptoms must’ve started becoming more dramatic, because miles describes it as his whole body glowing as bright as the sun, and then his eyes opening for a moment to reveal nothing but white, glowing eyeballs with no irises. phoenix has to convince him to still board his flight the day after, that he was okay… probably. maybe not safe, but definitely okay. (still, edgeworth stays the night at his, and they hold eachother close, basking in the shared warmth of two alive bodies in heat equilibrium, listening to eachothers breathing and rhythmic heartbeats, no signs of impending mortality in sight, save for, what did the french call it? la petite morte? most of all, phoenix basks in the promise miles makes to him. “i’m not going anywhere,” he repeats, over and over like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was phoenix. “i’m not going anywhere, i promise.”)

and when he loses his badge, he thinks he really does die, permanent and definitively. he feels far away from his body when the forger is called to the witness stand. feels like a ghost when the council walks out the room and past him, making no eye contact and answering the unanswered question on the tip of his tongue. feels his life crumble to pieces when a blonde man with a pleasent, almost saintly smile gives him the most maddeningly sympathetic look and tells him he is sorry for his loss, as if there really was someone dead. only, the only one dead must’ve been him, because there was no one else there who had just lost their life. he couldn’t even hear himself as he laughed, which turned into sobs, as he excused himself and fleed to his bicycle. not one pedestrian bats an eye at the state he is in, so he must really be a ghost, cycling past speeding cars and large trucks and buses as if it couldn’t kill him, because he wasn’t there, he was already dead. when he reaches his office, freezing and quiet and dreadfully void of any human life, he passes by the window his boss had died at and sees his reflection, unkempt and red faced and badgeless. he wants to scream, but he couldn’t because no one would hear a ghost scream, so instead he just sits down in the spot his mentor had lost her life in, and mourns.

when two weeks later a warm, incredible alive life falls into his hands in the shape of a little girl with a too big tophat and a joy for being alive that he’d lost years ago, well, maybe he is glad that he couldn’t die for real, if only to be able to wake up to that beaming grin as his little girl tries to pull her daddy out of bed because she’d made breakfast, and it only smells burnt because of the magic something she’d added as a special ingredient. he eats it, char and all, because he can’t taste the burnt-ness of it anyway, but he could taste the love and care put into it, and that was more than enough to take his mind away readying himself for his next death. instead, he thinks of his daughter’s next performance at the wonder bar, and their next trip to kurain, and miles’ next visit. for once, he thinks of living.

[leoreadss]

The Sandman - E01

I'm 10 minutes in and I'm already in love!

Is there something that you can't do, Sir? @neil-gaiman

[seaglassdinosaur]

I know we collectively agree that Hiccup isn’t romantically inclined, and his getting married and having kids didn’t make sense in the epilogue, but consider: Hiccup getting married for political reasons.

It’s a marriage of alliance, which is recognized both by him and his partner, and they enter it without expectations of romantic involvement. Since they’re now married, they live in the same castle, spend time together, and Hiccup finds he really likes his spouse. They’re funny, get along with his friends, and has the same interests and values. They both probably speak multiple languages. She understands why Hiccup is so dedicated to making the Wilderwest better, and holds similar views. She’s a good politician (her job after all, was to be an ambassador). Hiccup likes spending time with them, and the feeling is mutual. They’re not in love, they have their own lives, but they’re dedicated to each other and eventually decide to raise children. They teach their kids how to train hawks and hunt with dragons, riding, history, the Languages, and all the necessary skills of their world. They’re not in love and they’re happy together.

[allsassnoclass]

The real dream career is haunted bookstore owner. “Haunted” in the sense that the people whose spirits have been trapped within the pages as characters come to life at night and just hang out until dawn. Maybe one of them is an incorrigible flirt and always begs to stay longer.

ooooo, big Night at the Museum vibes with this one!!!!

"Come on, please? Just this once?"

Calum shakes his head and reshelves two of the books that someone was looking at tonight, still holding all of their words because the inhabitants didn't decide to visit the shop this time.

"Please, Calum?" Michael asks again, pulling a book off the shelf and onto the floor like a bored cat.

"I don't make the rules, Michael," Calum sighs, finally facing him. He takes the next book from his hand, returning it to the shelf before heh can mess it up more. Michael grabs his hand in both of his before Calum can withdraw it, clutching it against the leather armor covering his chest. His hands are always warmer than Calum expects, delightfully rough and callused.

"Come on, Calum," Michael says, stepping closer. They're already plenty close in the cramped corridor created by the tall bookshelves on either side. Michael's eyes look especially green from this close, more beautiful and alive than Calum could ever imagine from words on a page.

"I won't even leave the shop if you don't want me to," Michael says, expression open and earnest. "I just want a few more hours with you."

Calum feels his cheeks heat. Michael is a flirt, he knows this, both from their own interactions and the book that Calum has read more than once. His flattery doesn't mean anything, but Calum can't help falling for it more each time a compliment or suggestive look makes his head spin.

"Don't you have monsters to slay?" he asks, pulling away to continue his reshelving. "Isn't there a world out there needing their protector back?"

"They can wait," Michael insists, taking another book from Calum's hand and holding it above his head. "The story will still be there tomorrow, but things change around here every day. I want to see it with you."

Calum reaches for the book, but Michael holds it back, making Calum stumble into him again. Michael steadies him with a hand on his waist and Calum suppresses his shiver. He can't see the windows from here, hidden behind so many of his books, but he glances towards them anyway, waiting for a hint of the sun.

"Calum," Michael says, softer. He has a way of saying Calum's name that gives it more weight than anyone else, like Calum's name means something precious to him. It figures that someone created from words would have a way with them like no one else Calum has ever met.

"I don't control the dawn, Michael," he says, giving up his quest for the book and resting his hands on Michael's shoulders instead. "I'd let you stay longer if I could."

Michael sighs, but nods. He tips forward, resting his forehead against Calum's and stealing all of his breath.

"I know. But, Cal--"

The book he was holding thuds to the ground, his shoulders disappearing from Calum's grip. He stumbles against nothing, catches himself on the bookshelf, and looks around the empty store.

Dawn has arrived again. Calum is alone.

[bananonbinary]

purchased a physical copy of the invisible man after not reading the invisible mail at all this year rip

maybe the guilt of seeing it will make me read it now

[unproduciblesmackdown]

though i eventually got to read some, in earlier years goosebumps books would be the kind of series where i'd just ponder the cover art, and i always liked the drama of the monster blood illustration (the lighting/colors....sure nothing's happening in it but i felt it evoked the drama of "what if you're downstairs and something's upstairs" much like "what if you're upstairs and something's downstairs") like well too bad i guess i never got around to reading i at the time. but as of a recap yesterday i'm surprised to now be at least 90% sure i read part if not all of it, and thinking i hadn't may be due to how kind of nothing happens in it

[nomaishuttle]

i have to get a new phone case and screenprotector Guys its literally scaryyyy

[unholyplumpprincess]

Trying to decide if it would be rude or helpful to gift my loved ones books on autism in adults and how to undersrand ur autistic loved one,,,

[witch-queen-of-lesbos]

Today I learned that there's a limit to the number of notes you can put in a post.

hm actually i made a joke poll like this a while back but now im genuinely curious

[thewingedwolf]

one goofy ass thing i like about my job is we all really like having staff feedback after programs (like after in service, after summer reading, etc) because it just makes it easier to make it actually helpful and easier next time around and that’s all we want right, like PERSONALLY i don’t want to be anxious about a program and dreading it all year, which means i get to do what i Love which is offer my opinion constructively so i can be like “i think some people just don’t understand paylocity, it is a little confusing & for them, going through that app is this scary time sink so they don’t open it ever.” and no one is taking it personally because five other people wrote in “beanstack scares me” and “i’m not using teams” and we can just adjust our expectations of our older coworkers instead of writing people up for it akskd.

[leoreadss]

Hello, hello, hello Good Omens Fandom!

I need your help.

I'd like to read a good series this summer,. What should I read?

I like fantasy, pirates, vampires, fairies, books about books, librarians, bookshops, horror and a good lesbian romance.

Five books I loved this year:

Good Omens - Terry Pratchett & Neil Gaiman

The Ocean at the End of the Lane - Neil Gaiman

The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath

The Importance of Being Ernest - Oscar Wilde

The Girl from the Other Side - Siúil, a Rún

[yesthatsatumbler]

I have a habit of taking books from bookcrossing, fully intending to read them, and then... well, not. I'm sure I'll return them at some point...

(I was feeling awkward about that until my grandmother died and we had to do something with her huge library, so we kept the books we actually wanted, gave away the books that our friends and/or her relatives were interested in, and most of the rest was carted off to bookcrossing shelves. Literally, in a grocery cart. It took several trips.

They were mostly gone within days - within hours in some cases - and I decided that my debt to bookcrossings had been paid off for several years in advance and I can return to taking the books and maybe reading them eventually.)

do you have a bad habit of buying books, fully intending to read them, and then not?

[starryhyuck]

pairing: slytherin!jaemin x afab!ravenclaw!reader

words: 10.3k+

summary: na jaemin has asked you out every year since you came to hogwarts. maybe this is the year you’ll say yes.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: reader is shy, slight corruption kink, penetrative sex, loss of virginity, voyeurism, fingering, cunnilingus, public sex, squirting, creampies, messy sex

You’re in your first year at Hogwarts when Na Jaemin asks you out for the first time.

The both of you are standing in the middle of the courtyard and his ears are blooming red, either from the cold or pure embarrassment. He’s holding a chocolate frog, outstretching his hand to you.

“I think you’re pretty.”

You try to ignore the fact that your friends are squealing behind you. Your eyes are only focused on Jaemin, who’s wearing his signature smile. His best friends, Jeno and Donghyuck, are snickering behind him.

You know you want to tell the Slytherin that he’s pretty too, or at least thank him for the gift, but somehow your brain completely short circuits.

Your eleven-year-old self runs away from the group and back into the Hogwarts castle, breaking Na Jaemin’s heart for the first time.

—

You’re in your second year when Na Jaemin asks you out for the second time.

Your rejection of Jaemin the previous year spread around school like wildfire. Many of your friends asked you why you turned him down, especially when he was one of the most desired boys in your year. You didn’t know how to explain that he made you extremely nervous and his declaration of affection caused you to hate the attention you started receiving.

“Jaemin’s looking at you,” Doyeon giggles in your ear.

Your eyes wander up from your Potions book to see that, indeed, Jaemin is sitting at one of the library tables across the room, focus directed at you. You swallow and return your gaze to your textbook.

“Don’t you want to ask him why he’s staring at you?” Doyeon whines at your lack of enthusiasm. “He clearly still likes you!”

The librarian shushes your table and Doyeon sticks her tongue out when they’re not looking.

You sigh. “I just want to finish my Potions essay, Doyeon.”

You can practically see her roll her eyes in response. Jaemin has tried talking to you since the incident, jumping at any chance to partner with you during your classes together. You’ve only offered him rapid blinks and slow nods in return.

You groan when Doyeon suddenly elbows your side.

“Go and get me the book we need for Charms, please.”

“What? Why can’t you get it?” You frown, eyebrows furrowed.

She sighs as if you’re the one causing a problem. She gives you one of her signature looks and you grumble, pulling yourself away from the table. When you finally find the aisle you’re looking for, you nearly gasp when you see Jaemin there too.

Oh Doyeon, you sneaky witch.

He says your name like you’ve just caught the Golden Snitch. “Nice to see you!”

You smile awkwardly, ignoring the butterflies swarming your stomach.

“Hi, Nana.”

He beams when you call him by his nickname. You falter at his clear enthusiasm. You wish you were just slightly more brave to carry a conversation with him, but you resort to clumsily searching for Doyeon’s book. You sigh when you realize it’s on the top shelf.

Before you can attempt to grab it, you feel Jaemin’s chest press against your back as he easily takes it for you. You yelp at the proximity, ignoring his cheerful smile as he hands the book over to you.

“Looking for this?”

You try your best to steady your voice. “Um, yes?”

He chuckles. “You don’t sound so sure about it.”

Despite the book being safely in your hands, he shows no signs of stepping away from you. You avoid any eye contact you could possibly make with him.

“I should get back to my table,” you whisper softly. “Doyeon probably wants to get started on her Charms homework.”

“Meet me at the Astronomy Tower tonight?”

You blink at Jaemin’s question. He’s still smiling happily, fully expecting you to say yes.

“Um, I have a lot of work to get done tonight. Potions essay and all of that.”

“Oh,” he murmurs bashfully, scratching the back of his neck and taking a step away from you. “That’s okay. Some other night then?”

“Okay!” You squeak, taking your chance and scurrying away from him. Your abrupt departure prevents you from seeing the hopeful look in his eyes.

When you return to your table, Doyeon is smirking mischievously.

“You sure took a long time getting that book.”

“I hate you.”

—

You’re in your third year when Na Jaemin asks you out for the third time.

“Dude, she’s not going out with you. It’s starting to look super desperate.”

Jeno has to physically prevent Jaemin from lunging across the Great Hall table and attacking Donghyuck.

“Hyuck,” Renjun scolds from his spot next to Jeno. “You know Jaemin’s sensitive about it.”

“Whatever,” Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “All I’m saying is that everyone knows you like her, and if she liked you, then moves would have already been made.”

“You don’t know anything,” Jaemin hisses. “She’s just shy, that’s all. She doesn’t like the attention.”

Jeno glares at Donghyuck as a signal for him to shut up. Renjun even shoves a spoonful of chicken into Donghyuck’s mouth to make sure of it.

Jaemin’s focus returns to you as you’re giggling into your hand at something Yoo Jimin says. He fondly smiles at the sight of you looking so happy from across the Great Hall. He wishes you would look that happy whenever you see him too.

His attempts at getting you to agree to a date has been less than successful to say the least. Donghyuck was right — everyone in the Wizarding World knew of Jaemin’s crush at this point, but you still showed no signs of returning his affections.

“I’m not saying Donghyuck’s right or anything,” Renjun timidly brings up, earning a warning look from Jeno. “But maybe you should try crushing on someone else. Who knows? Maybe she’ll get jealous.”

Jaemin scoffs at the idea. As if he could like anyone else but you. It sounded unbelievably pathetic, but you were all he thought about. He wanted nothing but to hold your hand and kiss you in front of everyone.

Even if it made him the running joke to the rest of the houses, he didn’t care. He only desired you.

His blood boils when he sees Shotaro approach your table, cheeks red as he asks to sit down next to you.

“What the hell is he doing?” Jaemin hisses.

Jeno coughs awkwardly. “I heard from Sungchan that Shotaro has a little crush.”

“What?” Jaemin practically yells, causing the rest of his house to shush him.

“Alright, let’s be calm about this,” Jeno says, knowing how irritated his best friend could get. “Jaemin-���

Jeno’s protests are ignored as Jaemin makes his way over to your table. Jeno runs a hand down his face, praying that Jaemin doesn’t make a complete fool out of himself.

You nearly jump out of your seat when you hear your name being called. You glance behind you to see Jaemin.

“O-Oh,” you stutter, not expecting his presence. You fail to notice Shotaro’s shoulders slump in defeat at the sight of the Slytherin. “Hi Nana.”

You pay no attention to Doyeon and Jimin’s raised eyebrows from their positions across from you. Jaemin forces his hands between you and Shotaro, creating enough distance for him to sit in the middle.

“What are we talking about over here?”

Doyeon and Jimin exchange a look before Doyeon speaks up. “Shotaro over here was just talking about going to Hogsmeade this weekend.”

“Oh? I didn’t even know Hufflepuffs went outside,” Jaemin hums. Doyeon and Jimin cover up their laughs with a cough.

“Hogsmeade trips are for all students,” you mention quietly.

Jaemin smiles at you. “That’s right! I was actually thinking about going to Madam Puddifoot’s, want to join?”

Every student knows that Madam Puddifoot’s is where all the couples go on dates. Since this is the first year you’re allowed to take weekend Hogsmeade trips, you haven’t gotten a chance to see it for yourself. However, the thought of going with Jaemin seemed way too nerve wracking.

“She would love to!” Jimin interjects, shooting you a look.

“Actually, I was going to ask her if she wanted to go with me,” Shotaro says, glaring at Jaemin.

The two boys suddenly engage in a heated staring contest, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Doyeon and Jimin, on the other hand, are thoroughly enjoying watching the current scene unfold.

“Maybe we can all go!” You say in an attempt to ease the tension.

Doyeon’s head hits the table in reaction to your stupidity. Jaemin and Shotaro turn to you with confused looks on their faces. Jimin decides to help you out.

“Actually, I just remembered we promised Minjeong we would meet her at Honeydukes to grab some sweets. Sorry boys, maybe next time.”

You squeak when Doyeon suddenly grabs your arm, and before you know it, you’re being pulled away from the table.

Once you’re out of sight, Jaemin turns to scowl at the Hufflepuff.

“Don’t even think about it. Everyone knows I like her.”

Shotaro scoffs. “Just because you like her doesn’t mean she likes you.”

“Watch it, Hufflepuff.”

“Game on, Slytherin.”

A few minutes of intense glaring occurs until Jeno and Sungchan both rush over to the table, pulling the two boys apart.

—

You’re in your fourth year when Na Jaemin asks you out for the fourth time.

The only difference this year is that you already have a boyfriend. You’ve been dating Shotaro for a couple of months, and everything seems to be going well.

The only bump in the road so far was your friends.

“Listen, I’m just saying that Shotaro is really sweet and nice, but you clearly took the easy way out,” Doyeon complains. “I know that deep down, you like Jaemin more.”

“Doyeon, I really don’t want to hear this again,” you sigh, trying your best to focus on your History of Magic homework.

Doyeon and Jimin brought Jaemin up at least once a week. Ever since you started dating Shotaro, Jaemin took a hint and spent less and less time trying to get your attention. You still noticed his lingering stares here and there, but Shotaro would always try to initiate skinship with you just to remind Jaemin who you were dating.

“What are we talking about?” Jimin asks, plopping down on the couch in the Ravenclaw common room.

“How Jaemin is better than Shotaro,” Doyeon responds.

You frown. “You know, Slytherins aren’t even allowed in here.”

The two Slytherins ignore your protests. “Oh, Jaemin is so much better,” Jimin echoes. “I think she just likes Shotaro because he’s quiet and shy like her. But Jaemin would show her a much better time.”

“Jimin!” You hiss, growing embarrassed by the second. “Can we not talk about this please? I’m dating Shotaro and I really like him.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

You try not to let their words get to you since you know Doyeon and Jimin love to tease you. The thought of Jaemin still lingers in your mind, however, and Shotaro starts to notice you distancing yourself a week later.

“Are you okay?” He asks apprehensively, almost afraid of hearing the answer. “You haven’t been yourself lately.”

“I’m fine!” You try to assure him, ignoring the worried look in his eyes. “I’m just stressed with homework, that’s all.”

He smiles and you can’t help but compare it to Jaemin. Jaemin’s smile is a little brighter and more captivating, always causing your brain to malfunction whenever he grins at you.

“You don’t need to worry. You’re the smartest girl in our year,” Shotaro assures.

You laugh nervously. “Thank you.”

A few moments pass while the two of you are walking down the hallway before Shotaro clears his throat. He seems even more anxious than you.

“Did you hear about the dance they’re hosting this year?”

“Oh,” you hum, thinking about it. You remember Doyeon excitedly chattering the details to you, talking animatedly about what kind of dress she plans on wearing and how she’s going to style her hair. Jimin was equally excited, attempting to also raise your enthusiasm about the event. “Doyeon and Jimin have been mentioning it to me.”

He beams. “Good! I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

You sheepishly stutter. You were honestly planning on skipping the dance in favor of getting a good night’s sleep. Although knowing Doyeon and Jimin, they would never let you ditch.

“S-Sure. That sounds nice.”

Shotaro’s smile extends tenfold, and he leans down to press a kiss against your cheek. You bashfully stare at your feet, avoiding his gaze.

When you relay the information to the two girls later, they’re so excited you agreed to go to the dance that they don’t even mention Jaemin. They eagerly discuss shopping plans and hair and makeup expectations, all while you panic on the inside.

They help you pick out a gorgeous blue gown that hugs your figure, which initially makes you nervous but with a lot of assurances from Doyeon and Jimin, you grow confident in your appearance. The girls do your hair and makeup for you, giggling about how cute you’re going to look.

“If only it was for Jaemin,” Jimin hums while applying your eyeshadow.

“Hey,” you protest softly. “You said you were happy that Shotaro asked me.”

“I am!” She argues. “It’s just that I know Jaemin really likes this color on you.”

“Is that why you picked this out for me?”

When the both of them fail to answer your question, you huff. Your curiosity gets the best of you, however.

“Is Jaemin going with anyone?”

You miss the look Doyeon and Jimin exchange over your head. “I heard he asked out Yizhuo,” Jimin answers.

“Oh,” you mumble. Yizhuo was a Slytherin girl in the same classes as both you and Jaemin, so it would make sense that he asked her. You remember her being very pretty and sweet whenever you got paired for projects together.

Doyeon smiles, sensing your disappointment even though you would never admit it. She presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Just have a good time tonight, my little flower.”

“You know I’m the same age as the both of you. You don’t have to keep acting like my moms.”

You giggle when they suddenly shower you in kisses as a response.

Shotaro perks up when you finally meet him outside of the Great Hall. He’s wearing a blue tie to match your dress, and he kisses the back of your hand in greeting.

“You look beautiful,” he compliments.

“Thank you,” you manage to whisper, feeling bashful by the attention.

Some of the other houses are stopping to look at you two, murmuring to each other and making you even more nervous. Your breath catches in your throat when you meet Jaemin’s eyes across the room. He’s smiling fondly at you, his emerald green tie matching Yizhuo’s dress.

Your heart sinks a little at the sight of them looking like a perfect pair standing next to one another. Shotaro nudges you out of your trance.

“Ready to go in?”

You nod, mustering your best smile. “Born ready.”

The night, by all means, was a picture perfect fairytale. Shotaro was a perfect gentleman as he led you on the dance floor, with you feeling slightly inferior to his incredible dance skills. You exchanged a few fun twirls with Doyeon and Jimin, giggling to one another in the midst of all the sparkle and flair. Your eyes only strayed a few times to catch the sight of a certain Slytherin boy dancing with his date.

It forces you to excuse yourself to catch your breath. Shotaro offers to go with you but you insist on him staying inside and enjoying himself.

Jaemin later finds you in the Astronomy Tower, overlooking the stars.

He clears his throat to make you aware of his presence, causing you to jump at the sound.

“Sorry,” he apologizes with a chuckle, taking the spot next to you. “I didn’t know I would catch you out here.”

“I just needed a breather,” you murmur, ignoring the fact that his arm is nearly pressed against yours. “It was getting a little stuffy in there.”

“Your boyfriend didn’t want to escort you out?”

If you notice an implication in Jaemin’s tone, you make no show of it.

“No, I told him to stay. He’s a great dancer, I don’t know if you’ve seen it.”

“Oh, I’ve seen it,” he says under his breath, almost with a hint of jealousy.

You two linger in silence for a bit before he breaks it.

“It would be wildly inappropriate for me to ask you out at this moment, right?”

You blink at him, startled by the sudden question.

“I thought you came with Yizhuo?”

“Yizhuo and I are just friends,” he brushes off. “She didn’t have a date and the girl I wanted had a date of her own already.”

He eyes you carefully and you flush in embarrassment, staring down at your hands.

“Jaemin, you know Shotaro is my boyfriend.”

“Yeah, that’s unfortunate, isn’t it?”

“Nana,” you whisper, hoping the nickname will convey exactly what you want to say. To tell him that despite your conflicting feelings, you’re still dating Shotaro and don’t want to hurt him in any way.

He nods in understanding before preparing to take his leave. “Before I go, I just wanted you to know you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You took my breath away when I saw you. Shotaro’s a lucky guy and I hope he knows it.”

You watch pitifully as Jaemin heads back to the dance, ignoring the sound of your heart thumping in your ears.

—

You’re in your fifth year when Na Jaemin’s attempts start to falter for the first time.

You and Shotaro ended your relationship on good terms over the summer, agreeing that the both of you were better off as friends after holding hands started feeling too awkward. When Doyeon and Jimin found out about the amicable breakup, they were quick to get you back on your feet once you voiced your insecurities.

“Maybe it was me? Am I not pretty enough to kiss?”

They both frown, looking more disappointed than you’ve ever seen them.

“You are the prettiest girl at Hogwarts, so I have no idea where this is coming from,” Doyeon shakes her head, combing her fingers through your hair.

You’re sprawled on the floor of their shared bedroom after Jimin found a way to sneak you into the Slytherin dorms.

“You said it yourself that Shotaro and you broke up because it was too awkward. He never told you that you weren’t pretty enough to kiss,” Jimin reminds you.

“I know, I know,” you sigh. “But we just never did what normal couples do, you know? It made me start to think that it was because of me.”

“It could never be because of you,” Doyeon chides. “Besides, if you want to get kissed that bad, I know someone who would be first in line for that chance.”

It rattles you when you automatically know who she’s referring to.

“I heard he got a girlfriend over the summer,” you say quietly.

Jimin scoffs. “You heard wrong. I told you to only get gossip from me, I’m a reliable source. I’ve heard absolutely nothing about said girlfriend.”

The three of you are thoroughly surprised when you catch Jaemin the next day, hand in hand with Hyojung, a fellow Ravenclaw girl.

Jimin curses under her breath and Doyeon scolds her for not being the first one to know this new information. As the couple walk down the hallway, Jaemin’s eyes lock with yours. You both still, almost as if time has stopped in its tracks.

He’s the first one to break it, with Hyojung tugging on his arm and questioning why he suddenly stopped in the middle of the crowd. Your eyes well with tears before you stray from Doyeon and Jimin, finding an empty classroom to wallow your sorrows in.

Why were you so sad? It’s not like you had anything romantic in line for you and Jaemin. After all, you were the one who’s been rejecting him since you first stepped foot in Hogwarts.

You decide to ignore your muddled feelings for most of the first half of the year. Jaemin and Hyojung seem to be going strong and despite Jimin’s endless apologies, you insist that you’re happy for the couple and wish them all the best.

You get paired with Jeno for a Charms project as the winter season approaches. Jeno proves to be a diligent partner, equally dividing work and quietly finishing your portions of the project in the library together.

The question itches at the back of your mind one night, and you can’t stop yourself from asking.

“Jeno, how did Jaemin and Hyojung get together?”

He’s surprised by the inquiry, head tilted in confusion. “Well, their parents are friends and they used to be close when they were younger. They decided to give the relationship a try over the summer to see if it fits.”

You nod and thank him for answering. An hour passes in silence before he bites back.

“Why do you ask?”

You chew on the end of your pencil nervously. “I was curious. They just seemed to get together out of the blue.”

He studies your expression carefully. “You broke up with Shotaro over the summer, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” you reply awkwardly. “We decided it wasn’t a good fit for us.”

He hums in understanding.

The two of you finish your homework session without any more probing questions, and Jeno is fast to locate his Slytherin best friend afterwards.

Jaemin is startled when Jeno almost runs him over outside of the Slytherin dorms.

“What’s up with you?”

Jeno huffs, out of breath from rushing all around Hogwarts in search of him.

“Things with you and Hyojung — they’re not serious, right?”

Jaemin shrugs. “She’s pretty and nice. It’s not a bad relationship.”

“But it’s not a really good one either?”

“I mean, I guess so. Why are you asking?”

“A certain Ravenclaw girl just asked me about you,” Jeno divulges. “She asked me about you, Jaemin. You were far from any topic of conversation and she was the one to bring you up first.”

Jaemin freezes at the revelation. He spent the whole summer trying to forget about you, accepting that you were happy with Shotaro and perhaps Donghyuck was right, he was starting to look pathetic chasing after you. Hyojung’s family came to visit one day in August and after seeing how heartbroken he was, she suggested they begin a relationship to try and get him to move on. He agreed, mainly because his parents always loved Hyojung and he needed to get his mind off of you.

As twisted as it sounds though, Hyojung could never compare to you.

He doesn’t understand why you’ve enraptured him like this, it was just supposed to be a silly crush. He never expected to see flickers of you when he would kiss his girlfriend or think of your laugh when he’s holding someone else’s hand.

He shakes his head from the thought.

“Jeno, I can’t. You know I spent so much time getting over her.”

His friend rolls his eyes. “And how did that work out? You still look like a love struck puppy whenever she walks by and Hyojung is still convinced she can get you to love her. Wake up, dude.”

Jaemin presses the palm of his hands to his eyes, desperately trying to erase the fantasies floating through his head.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I thought I already spelled it out for you. Free Hyojung from her misery and get your girl.”

When Jaemin approaches Hyojung the next day, his heart sinks in his chest as he registers the devastated look on her face.

“What? What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing,” he assures her. “I just don’t think this is working out. I haven’t been feeling any sparks.”

Her eyes well with tears and Jaemin starts to feel guilty.

“Is this about her? Are you seriously still not over her? We’ve been together for nearly five months, Jaemin!” Her sadness quickly shifts to unadulterated rage, glaring at him and hoping he’ll sink into the ground. “How could you lead me on this whole time?”

“I wasn’t trying to, Hyojung, I swear,” he promises, but they’re clearly empty to the girl in front of him.

“Go fuck yourself, Na Jaemin.”

You find Hyojung crying in the Ravenclaw common room that day. You pause when you see her crumbling on the couch with her best friend, Soeun, comforting her. They scowl when you come into their view.

“There she is, the homewrecker herself,” Soeun sneers at you.

You have no idea why the two girls are suddenly bashing on you. You hold your arms closer to your chest defensively.

“W-What?”

Hyojung stands and approaches you until she’s inches from your face.

“I don’t know why he finds you so special. You’ve never once given him the time of day yet he’ll bend over backwards to have you,” she hisses, expecting the words to sting for you.

You blink. “Who are you talking about?”

She laughs and it’s one of those hollow, maniacal laughs that sends shivers down your spine.

Soeun joins in, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at you condescendingly. “We’re not falling for your little innocent schoolgirl act. You know Jaemin and Hyojung’s parents were already planning their wedding, right? How sick of you to insert yourself into a relationship and break it apart.”

The two girls continue to berate and belittle you until the whole of Ravenclaw is convinced you’re a nasty homewrecker. You leave the common room in tears, finding solace in one of the nearby alcoves.

That’s how Jaemin finds you — sobbing into your hands and feeling the most low you’ve ever felt in your entire Hogwarts stay.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

He tries to pry your hands away from your eyes to talk to you, but you pull away from him like you’ve just been burned.

“Get away from me!” You demand, turning away from him and sniffling softly to yourself.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice filled with distress. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to know why you’re crying, and if I can help at all.”

You spin back around to face him. Jaemin’s heart cracks at the sight of you looking so defeated.

“Why would you break up with Hyojung because of me?” You question in a small voice, trying to stop your tears.

He stutters. “I-I didn’t break up with her because of that. The relationship never felt right.”

“Well, that’s not what she’s saying. I don’t understand why you’re so intent on ruining my life, Nana.”

“What? I would never ruin your life!”

“But you have!” You cry, not caring how unattractive you are at this moment. “You give me all this attention that I never asked for as soon as I get to Hogwarts, and suddenly everyone is referring to me as the girl who rejected Na Jaemin. Then I get a boyfriend and you’re lurking around every corner, praying for me to break up with him. And then you get a girlfriend, crush her heart, and now she’s accusing me of being a homewrecker!”

Realization washes over his features and he takes a step back from you.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, this is all my fault. I’ll clear up whatever Hyojung started and I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry.”

You watch him disappear around the corner, throwing you one last sorrowful glance.

After you relay the day’s events while crying in Doyeon and Jimin’s arms, you wonder if you would ever speak to Jaemin again.

—

You’re in your sixth year when you haven’t spoken to Na Jaemin since the start of the term.

Hyojung approaches you when you return from the summer break, guilt-ridden by her behavior.

“I’m so sorry for saying all of those things about you. It was really immature of me to start those rumors, especially knowing that it was Jaemin’s fault, not yours. I was just angry and looking for someone to blame. I hope you can forgive me.”

You smile shyly and nod. “Thank you for apologizing. I’m sorry again for what you had to go through.”

She shakes her head. “You don’t have to say that to me. I’m going to clear up all those nasty things people are saying about the situation so please, let’s just try to move past it.”

The first few months of the term pass by quickly, with all of the rumors about you being squashed by both Hyojung and Jaemin. Soon enough, people are finding new gossip to discuss and your incident fades into the background.

You try to accept that you’ll never speak to Jaemin again. He’s completely turned into a ghost of the person you once knew. He no longer smiles whenever people call his name in the hallway or jokes around with Jeno and Donghyuck in the Great Hall.

He becomes a true, stereotypical Slytherin — emotionless and disinterested.

It concerns you, honestly. However, your friends have ruled it to be none of your business.

“But he’s just so lifeless! I just want to make sure he’s doing okay.”

Doyeon waves a finger at you like a mother scolding her disobedient toddler. “He should be the furthest thing from your mind. You need to be focused more on your studies and less on boys.”

You really start to feel like a rebellious teenager when Jimin places her hands on your shoulders and pushes you down to sit on the edge of her bed.

“One day, you’re going to grow up and realize we are just trying to do what’s best for you,” she clicks her tongue.

You frown. “It wasn’t even a year ago when you two were encouraging me to come out of my shell and date Jaemin!”

“Yes, and that was before he made you cry and got the whole school to believe you were trying to break relationships left and right,” Doyeon says, arms flailing about. “We don’t trust him like we used to.”

“Turns out he really was just a man,” Jimin sighs, shaking her head.

Despite their disapproval, you search for Jaemin that night to try and open a civil conversation with him. You want him to know that you don’t blame him for what occurred the previous year and it would be best for you both to try and move on.

You’re about to turn the corner to the Slytherin dorms when you hear a sharp gasp.

You shield yourself behind a pillar, eyes peeking out to identify the cause of the sound. You nearly choke when you see Jaemin has Lee Seojeong pressed up against the wall, his fingers hidden underneath her skirt.

Jaemin hisses lowly. “Keep quiet. You said you would.”

“I’m sorry,” she whimpers in apology. Her sorrows soon turn into cries of lust, gripping Jaemin’s shoulder tightly.

You’re frozen in your spot, unsure of what to do. Your heart is thumping wildly in your ears and you’re ashamed to admit the arousal pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

You can see Seojeong is finding it harder and harder to muffle her cries and just before she reaches her high, Jaemin’s eyes suddenly flicker over to zero in on you.

Surprise fills his features as much as it does yours, and you both ignore that Seojeong has already tipped over the edge. Jaemin withdraws his fingers from her, still staring intensely at you.

Mortified by getting caught, you quickly turn and run back to Doyeon and Jimin’s room, praying the world will swallow you whole.

Much to your chagrin, the world is not on your side.

The next day, your Charms professor announces a class project, sharing that he’s already paired up the class. And, of course, you find yourself with the Slytherin boy you’re trying your best to avoid. You’re incredibly embarrassed when Jaemin approaches your desk.

“Um,” you say bashfully, trying your best to not look at him. The burn of his stare from the previous night is still ingrained in the back of your mind. “I think we should divide the work evenly. I can start researching the history while you can look into the process of casting the charm.”

Jaemin, on the other hand, is enjoying watching you squirm. Ever since last year’s incident, he’s built up a few walls to shield himself from the lingering stories in the Hogwarts castle. He blames himself for causing you so much heartbreak and promised at the start of sixth year that he wouldn’t let people in as easily as he used to. He really only talks to Jeno and Donghyuck now, ignoring the rest of his classmates who are probably only using him as fodder to feed the lurking gossip.

As for Seojeong, she’s one of the many girls he’s been hooking up with to take his mind off of you. He accidentally slipped up a few months ago when he said your name in the midst of his release with another girl, encouraging even more people to whisper about you and him. Luckily, he shut it down before word ever got to you. He’s been a lot more careful with his restraint since then.

He never expected to meet your gaze while he was fingering Seojeong outside of the Slytherin dorms.

And he won’t lie if someone asked him if he has fantasized about your curious eyes watching him pleasure someone else before.

“That sounds fair.”

You nod at his short response, still refusing to meet his stare. You quickly gather your books in your arms.

“I-I’ll meet you at the end of the week to discuss what I find then.”

You don’t tell Doyeon or Jimin what happened that night. They question you when you return to their dorm a little frazzled and panicked, but you say that you simply saw a bug in the hallway that creeped you out.

They buy your excuse then, but grow increasingly more suspicious when you continue to act on edge for the rest of the week.

“Alright, what in Merlin is going on with you? You heard a chair squeak and I swear you jumped out of your skin,” Doyeon says, eyes narrowed at you.

Jimin leans forward on the library table to get a closer look at your flushed expression.

“N-Nothing!” You stutter, fingers rolling through the fabric of your skirt nervously. “I’m just- um, I’m just-“

They watch you flounder, eyebrows raised as you struggle to find the right words.

“Could I ask you both a question? And you have to promise that you won’t ask me any follow-up questions in return.”

Doyeon and Jimin exchange a glance before nodding hesitantly.

“Go ahead.”

You take a deep breath. “Have you two ever, you know, been with someone? Like on an intimate level?”

A moment of silence passes before questions erupt from the two.

“Is someone trying to pressure you into having sex?”

“Oh Merlin, do we have to go and kill someone? Who’s trying to put their hands on you?”

You swiftly shush them, turning your head to check if anyone in the library is eavesdropping in on you.

“You promised,” you whine.

They sigh, clearly stressed from the idea of you being pressured into anything.

Jimin speaks first. “Yes, I have. It was awkward and not that fun, if I’m being honest.”

Doyeon hums in agreement. “Definitely more pleasurable for the guy than the girl most of the time.”

“Okay,” you drawl, trying to figure out how to ask them what you’re really wondering. “So it was a one time thing? You weren’t in a relationship with them?”

They nod. You huff, pondering over the idea. You would never admit your jealousy, but the image of Jaemin pleasuring Seojeong chilled you to your core. Your mind has been swirling with frenzied thoughts all week — were they dating now? When did Jaemin suddenly start fingering girls in public? Did this mean he really wanted nothing to do with you anymore? And lastly, how did you fall so far behind your classmates sexually?

A tap on your shoulder takes you out of your trance. Doyeon and Jimin’s expressions have suddenly turned stern, lips pursed at whoever has approached your table.

“Hey, you ready to discuss our project?”

Your eyes flit up to catch the boy that has been haunting your dreams. Jaemin’s fingers brush through his hair casually, and you speculate if he knows how attractive he looks.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you reply nervously, taking your notebook and standing to walk with him.

Doyeon says your name with fervor before you can leave. “Maybe one of us should go with you. Or you can talk about your project here.”

You don’t miss her implication and the fact that the former topic of conversation has them theorizing that Jaemin is the one bringing your sexual awakening to light.

“I think we’ll be fine,” Jaemin answers for you, ignoring their glares and escorting you to another table towards the back of the library.

You avoid his gaze as much as possible when you sit down, opening your notebook and immediately diving into the details of the Bubble-Head Charm.

“The charm can be dated back for centuries, and many wizards believe it was created to help them swim underwater-“

“Did you enjoy the show?”

His sudden question brings you out of your notes, and for the first time in a week, you take a look at him.

He’s studying you fiercely, eyes piercing into the depths of your soul.

“What show?” You ask in confusion, not understanding how this could possibly be related to your project.

“I don’t usually like an audience when I’m trying to help someone on the brink of their climax,” he says unabashedly. Your breath catches in your throat. “I find that I don’t mind it when it’s you though.”

“I think we should focus on the project, Nana,” you whisper, not realizing how easily the nickname has slipped from your lips.

“You’re still going to call me that?” He asks, eyes unexpectedly clouded with fury. “Still going to act like the innocent girl when you played the little voyeur for me?”

“Jaemin,” you say quietly, your body flaring with an equal weight of lust and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on you and Seojeong.”

He scoffs. “You think I care about her? I bet you pictured yourself in her place, hm? Begging for me to help you cum, looking so desperate for me in a public space,” he laughs, keeping his voice low for only you to hear his crude words. He drinks in your appalled expression. “What? Do you miss when I was the nice boy for you, helping you grab a book when you couldn’t reach it on your own? Chasing after you with my tail tucked between my legs?”

He moves his chair until he’s seated right beside you, hand resting on the inside of your thigh. You jolt at the contact, praying he doesn’t discover your wetness soaking through your panties.

“Or do you like it better when I’m straightforward like this? Telling you exactly how I want you?”

His face is inches from yours, and you can feel his breath hitting your cheek. If you move just a little closer, you could probably kiss him-

Another hand suddenly grabs your elbow, pulling you away from Jaemin’s hold.

“Get away from her!” Jimin growls while Doyeon starts to collect your things, shoving it in your bag hurriedly.

“Don’t even think about touching her again.”

Your friends whisk you away from the table, leaving Jaemin with a raging hard-on and eyes full of determination.

—

You’re in your seventh year when you desperately want Na Jaemin to kiss you.

The tables have turned quite exceptionally. Contrary to previous years, you find yourself pursuing the Slytherin boy.

After last year’s encounter in the library, you convinced Doyeon and Jimin that Jaemin’s advances were wanted by you. You had to sit them down and explain to them that yes, your questions about sex were Jaemin-related and no, they did not have to act like your moms all the time. They still held their reservations when it came to Jaemin and you, and you couldn’t blame them. Your history together was confusing to say the least, but now you could actually say you were starting to recognize the feelings you had for him.

The only problem was that Jaemin seemed to lose all interest in you.

Jimin relayed to you the information about Jaemin ceasing all communication with the girls he normally hooked up with, which you took as a good sign, but was disappointed when he made no advances to contact you again.

You failed your Charms project with him because you two couldn’t find the courage to approach one another to resume the study. Instead, you threw heart eye glances to him for the rest of the term, which he easily ignored.

You shyly approach Jeno and Donghyuck on the first day of seventh year.

“I’m sorry, what? Did you just say that you like Jaemin?”

Donghyuck is incredulous, rubbing his eyes and hitting his ears to make sure he’s seeing and hearing you correctly.

Beside him, Jeno simply smirks in understanding. “I was wondering when you’d finally admit it.”

You cower underneath their stares. “I was just going to ask if either of you know if Jaemin likes me too. I don’t think he does anymore so I want to get confirmation.”

Donghyuck laughs. “Are you kidding me? The kid moans your name in his sleep so I think it’s safe to say-“

He yelps when Jeno pinches his side, glaring at him.

“What this idiot is trying to say is that yes, Jaemin likes you. He’s only liked you since we arrived at Hogwarts and we fear he’ll only like you until he dies. I don’t know why you would think otherwise,” Jeno hums, eyebrow raised in questioning.

“Well,” you drone, twiddling your thumbs nervously. “He hasn’t talked to me at all since last year and he doesn’t treat me like he used to. He’s completely iced me out.”

Donghyuck laughs again. “Doubt that. Remember just yesterday when he accidentally said her name when he was talking to Minjeong?”

Jeno pinches his side once more and Donghyuck whines painfully in exaggeration.

“Again, what this idiot is trying to say is that maybe Jaemin is waiting for you to make the first move. He’s made his intentions pretty clear, you know, so I think the ball’s in your court.”

You ponder over Jeno’s words all week, eyes drifting to Jaemin’s figure more than you would possibly admit during classes. Doyeon and Jimin speak the Gryffindor bravery into you as you proceed towards his table in the library — the same table he cornered you at last year.

“Hi,” you squeak, fingers gripping your books to your chest for dear life.

He looks up at you, facial expression remaining neutral.

“Hi.”

“Can I- um, can I sit here?”

He nods and you take the seat beside him. Your whole body is nearly shaking from anxiety but you push through it.

“I wanted to talk to you because- well, I talked to Jeno and Donghyuck and they made me realize that it was my turn to talk to you first. I know things have been weird since the Hyojung incident and I wanted you to know I don’t blame you for that at all! I know it sounded like I was blaming you but then I realized it was just a misunderstanding and I was so overwhelmed by my emotions-“

He places a hand on your arm, stopping your rambling from continuing.

“Take a deep breath,” he says, thumb rubbing circles on your skin in comfort. “Relax. It’s just me.”

You huff and shake your head. “But that’s why I can’t relax. Because it’s you.”

His fingers move to brush the stray hairs from your face, slowly advancing downwards to caress your cheek. You recognize the slightest hint of a smirk ghosting his lips.

“Yeah? You get nervous because of me?”

You nod sheepishly. “You always make me nervous, Nana.”

His eyes darken at the nickname. “You know, you’re the only one who still calls me that.”

“Oh,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, should I stop saying it?”

Your breath hitches when his fingers trail across your bottom lip.

“You never answered my question.”

“H-Huh?”

“About whether you liked me when I was following you around like a pathetic little boy or when I’m direct with my feelings like this,” he murmurs, thumb resting on your tongue. “Suck.”

You almost moan at the instruction, wrapping your lips around the digit. Jaemin curses under his breath, drinking in your innocent eyes blinking back at him.

You pull away to respond. “I like you. I don’t care what you do — I just like you.”

“Aren’t you the fucking sweetest?” He grunts, no longer able to hold himself back as he lunges forward.

You gasp and place a hand on his chest before his lips could collide with yours.

“I-I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

He pulls back, eyebrows furrowed. “But you and Shotaro-“

“We just held hands,” you say meekly, ashamed to admit your lack of experience. “It felt too weird to kiss him.”

He suddenly stands and begins to gather his things, and your shoulders deflate. He probably doesn’t want to be with you anymore now that he knows you’re the virgin who’s never been kissed.

You’re surprised when his hand wraps around yours and he tugs you along. He pulls you out of the library and you try your best to keep up with him.

“Jaemin, where are we going?”

You seem to get your answer when you land in front of the Slytherin dorms. Jaemin quietly mutters the password to enter and you find yourself being led to a grand staircase, realizing he’s bringing you to his dorm room.

“Hey! She can’t be here!” A voice calls from the bottom of the staircase. You’re about to excuse yourself out of humiliation but Jaemin’s grip tightens on your hand.

“Go fuck yourself, Doyoung.”

“Na Jaemin!”

Once you enter Jaemin’s room, you blink at the sight of Yangyang and Donghyuck sitting on the floor, playing a game of Exploding Snap.

“Get out,” Jaemin barks.

They look up and frown, eyes moving back and forth from him to you.

“But it’s nearly midnight-“

“Get the fuck out.”

They both grumble, taking their card game and exiting the room.

“You didn’t have to kick them out,” you start to mumble, but shriek when his hand wraps around your waist, pulling your body to his.

His nose brushes against yours, and you squirm in his hold. He looks so pretty up close, and you ponder if anyone could be more perfect than him.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You still want to?”

“I’ve always wanted to, sweetheart.”

You stutter. “O-Okay.”

Your first kiss is magical. Jaemin’s lips are so soft against yours, and you melt underneath his touch. At first, the kiss is delicate and gentle, with him holding you like you could break at any second. Then, the kiss shifts into something more carnal and desperate, the weight of his body pressing closer and closer to you. His tongue begs for entrance past your lips and you easily grant it, allowing him to nearly swallow you whole.

You rub your thighs together desperately. “Nana,” you whimper.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

You have no idea how to tell him what you want, so you decide to show him instead. You grab his hand and move it until it disappears underneath your skirt, hovering dangerously close to your core.

He chuckles into your mouth. “Maybe we should take it slow. You just had your first kiss.”

“But I want more,” you whine. “I want what you gave to Seojeong.”

“Fuck,” he hisses. “You have no idea what you do to me.” His head moves downwards to press kisses along the side of your neck. “I dreamed of doing this to you nearly every night. I always wondered what pretty sounds you would make for me.”

“Wait,” you stop him and he stills, lips a few inches away from grazing your collarbone. You timidly ask, “Can I be your girlfriend?”

He smiles, raising his head to peck your lips. “You’re so perfect. You can be whatever you want, baby. I’ll buy a ring for you tomorrow if you want it.”

You giggle. “Quit teasing me.”

“It’s cute that you think I’m teasing,” he hums, voice filled with mischief. “It’s cute that you think I wouldn’t get on my knees for you and do whatever you asked.”

You swallow when he does, in fact, get on his knees for you. He pushes up your skirt so that he’s staring directly at your pretty pink panties, all cotton with a little bow in the front. You wish you had worn a sexier pair today, but you would never have guessed you’d be in this position.

You squeak when his mouth messily envelops your cunt, his tongue desperately pushing against the fabric.

You hear him grunt. “Smell so good, baby. Your pussy’s dripping for me.” His fingers hook onto the sides of your underwear, pulling it down your thighs slowly. “Do you touch yourself, sweetheart?”

You flounder. “I tried once,” you confess shakily. “I didn’t really know what I was doing.”

“Oh yeah?” He purrs, running a finger through your folds, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. “When did that happen?”

You struggle to piece a sentence together. “The n-night after I caught you and S-Seojeong. I couldn’t stop t-thinking about it.”

He clicks his tongue. “Dirty girl. You touched yourself thinking about me pleasuring someone else? You liked watching us, didn’t you?”

You whimper. “You were right — I wanted to be her so badly.”

You cry when his mouth wraps around your clit, sucking tightly. You almost fold in on yourself but Jaemin steadies you, hands gripping the back of your thighs to make sure you stay in place.

“Nana,” you beg. “That feels so good. Please don’t stop.”

However, he does withdraw himself from your cunt, evoking a mewl from you.

“No, no, please-“

He guides you towards the bed and you tilt your head in confusion when he lays down first, gesturing for you to join him.

“Come here, baby. Sit on my face.”

You blink. “W-What? That’s dangerous!”

He laughs. “Trust me, dying while eating your pussy is probably the best way to go.”

You hesitate. “Nana…”

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It’ll feel really good, I promise. And if I drown in your cunt then you can cast that Bubble-Head Charm to save me.”

“Nana!”

You decide to trust him after a brief deliberation, awkwardly maneuvering your way onto the bed and hovering over his face.

“Are you sure this is safe?”

Instead of verbally responding, he grabs a handful of your ass and plants you down until your core sits directly on his mouth. You frantically reach for the headboard to steady yourself, unable to stop the moans crawling out of your throat.

He eats you like you’re his last meal, tongue lapping at your folds and sucking on your clit. You’ve never been touched like this before — never been wanted so desperately by a man who’s willing to cut off his source of breathing just to get a taste of you. You move one hand to grip at his hair, tugging at the strands whenever a sensation grows to be too much for you.

Jaemin is locked in on a mission to get you to your orgasm. The idea of him being the first person to help you reach your climax is so incredibly arousing that he could honestly cum untouched.

You gasp when pleasure spreads across your entire body, accidentally rolling your hips to ride Jaemin’s tongue. He moans in encouragement, using his hands to guide you as you use him like a toy.

“J-Jaemin-“

He sucks your clit hard, and that sends you over. Frantic whimpers spill from your lips as you release onto his awaiting tongue. Your thighs tremble from the intensity of your orgasm, all while Jaemin laps at your gushing wetness.

The pleasure shifts to discomfort from oversensitivity and he finally allows you to draw back. You grow flustered when you pull away and see the smear of your arousal covering his face. He eagerly licks his lips and sighs in content.

Your embarrassment multiplies tenfold when you realize what you’ve done, frantically shuffling away and pulling your underwear back up your legs.

“Where are you going, baby?” He murmurs, wrapping a hand around your wrist and pulling you back to the bed. Your back meets his chest and he hums, pressing kisses to your throat.

“T-That was s-so-“

“What’s wrong, pretty girl? Are you feeling dirty now that you let a silly boy eat your little cunt?”

You squirm. “Jaemin-“

He shushes you gently. “Poor baby. You want a little more? I know your pussy’s aching for it.”

Your eyes trail downwards to the bulge in his slacks, looking like he’s about to burst through the seams.

“Will it hurt?” You ask softly, feeling slightly intimidated.

“A little bit, but I’ll help you through it.”

You nod. “O-Okay.”

He starts to move you so that you’re lying down on the bed, but you wrap a hand around his to stop him.

“Can we stay like this? I like it when you hold me this way.”

His arm snakes around your middle and he tugs you closer. “Of course, baby. You’re going to have to be patient, okay? Just take a deep breath and trust me.”

You whine when his fingers dance around the inside of your thighs.

“What are you doing?”

“Have to stretch you first or else it’s going to hurt more, okay?”

You tentatively nod and he takes your panties off for good, flinging them across the room. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm so you nearly blubber when he pushes a finger inside of your dripping hole. The sensation feels both foreign and otherworldly, almost like an itch you’ve been dying to scratch. You cry when he curls his finger, sending shockwaves up your spine.

He tilts your head to the side so he can plant another kiss to your lips. He distracts you from a second finger joining the first as he slowly thrusts both up into you.

“Doing perfect, sweetheart,” he sighs into your mouth. “So so perfect for me. Going to add one more, alright?”

“Okay, Nana.”

He whispers more praises in your ear while you somehow find a way to fit three of his fingers inside your tight pussy. You roll your hips to feel more of him, completely stuffed full.

“That’s a good girl. Ride my fingers, baby.”

Your body reacts before your mind does, lewdly dripping down his hand as you chase another impending orgasm. Your mind is clouded by a haze of lust, feeling like an animal in heat with the way you eagerly push onto his digits.

“I think I’m gonna-“

“I know, baby. Go ahead, I’m right here,” he coaxes.

All it takes is a few more twists of your hips and his thumb flicking over your abused clit for you to cum. You shudder, cunt pulsing around him as you come down from your high. You whimper when he withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking up remnants of your wetness.

“How did that feel?”

You squeak. “It felt good.”

He smiles and kisses you once more. “Pretty girl. Want to take my cock now?”

You nod shyly, allowing him to unzip his pants and unsheath his length. Your eyes widen slightly at the size of him, his cock angrily red and tip leaking.

“That looks like it hurts,” you comment on his swelling shaft as he adjusts your bodies so that your cunt is hovering over him.

“It does, sweetheart. And you’re the only one who can make it better. Now take a deep breath for me.” You obey his command, inhaling and exhaling slowly to prepare yourself. He turns your head again to look at him. “You don’t have to say it back, but I love you, okay? Loved you since our first year here. Want to make this feel good for you.”

Your eyes suddenly well with tears. “I love you too, Nana. And I trust you, more than anyone else.”

His grin is blinding and his lips smack against yours, the tip of his cock slowly pushing into your waiting cunt. You painfully whine and he holds you tighter, reminding you to relax and breathe. He drives you lower and lower until you’re nearly halfway down his cock, and you gasp loudly. His thumb returns to your clit, circling the bud gently to help you along.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?”

You shake your head. “Y-Yeah, keep going, Nana.”

He sings praises in your ear until he’s bottomed out and you were definitely wrong before — this is what it feels like to be completely stuffed full. He lets you adjust to his size until your tiny cries of discomfort shift into whimpers of pleasure.

“Going to start moving now. Tell me if it’s too much, baby.”

He gives an experimental thrust that has you moaning.

“Good, good,” you breathe, encouraging him to keep going.

He starts pushing into you gradually, groaning at the feeling of your warm walls wrapped tightly around his cock.

“I’m not going to last, baby.”

You squeal when his thrusts increase speed, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

“Ungh, ungh, ungh-“

Vulgar sounds echo in the tiny dorm room with your wetness leaking down Jaemin’s cock and his skin slapping against yours forcefully. You feel like you could easily come again, but your mind screams at you that something’s missing.

“Nana?”

He’s drilling into you now, trying his best to move you up and down his cock at a rapid pace.

“Yeah, baby- fuck,” he hisses, not knowing if you realize how your pussy constantly clenches around him. “What is it?”

“Can you kiss me?”

He swears he’s been blessed by Merlin himself to have a girl as sweet as you. He grants your wish, enveloping his lips with yours and swirling his tongue inside your mouth sloppily.

The simple gesture is enough to serve as the snap to your third orgasm. He moans when he feels your cunt spasm, and he finally releases his warm seed deep into your womb.

You both try to catch your breath as you come down from your high. He kisses you again, and it’s a messy mix of saliva and tongues, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I really liked that,” you confess, and he laughs.

“Good, because we’re going to be doing it a lot from now on. I’m not wasting any more time with you.”

—

You’re about to graduate from Hogwarts when Doyeon and Jimin can’t find you.

You’re meant to be boarding the enchanted boats soon — a ritual that all seventh years take during the end of their Hogwarts stay. All three of you promised to take a boat together, but your two friends can’t seem to find you anywhere.

“Do you think she got kidnapped?”

“Why do you always jump to kidnapping?” Jimin sighs exasperatedly. “I bet you Jaemin just couldn’t take his paws off of her.”

And they would be very correct as Na Jaemin is currently pounding you in the Charms classroom, fingers crumpling your skirt as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy.

“W-We’re gonna m-miss the boats,” you moan, clutching your desk and whining pathetically.

“Don’t give a fuck. You’re the one who wouldn’t let me get my share of this pussy last night.”

“I was hanging out with Doyeon and Jimin! It was our last night in the castle together.”

“Yeah, just like it’s my last time getting to fuck you in this classroom.”

He thrusts into the particular spot that has you keening, back arched as you moan loudly. Usually, your boyfriend would try to keep you quiet, but considering today’s your last day of schooling, he doesn’t see the point.

What could they do, expel you? You already finished all of your exams.

A screech erupts in the doorway and he hears Jimin’s infuriated voice.

“I told you! Jaemin, give the girl a break!”

You cry as you reach your climax, squirting all over Jaemin’s cock and scattering your wetness across the floor. He groans and buries himself deep inside of you, spurting ropes of his cum until his cock begs him for some rest.

“They say when you raise kids that you should expect the day they disappoint you. I didn’t know that this is what they meant,” Doyeon sighs.

You quickly fumble to pull on your skirt and Jaemin tucks himself back into his slacks.

“It smells awful in here! How long have you two been going at it?” Jimin hisses, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“A couple of hours,” he replies with a smirk, wincing when you hit his chest as a warning.

You shakily stand and try to make yourself look presentable. “I’ll be right there!” You call out to your friends, ignoring the perturbed look on their faces. You would normally be ashamed, but that feeling disappeared months ago when they constantly caught you and Jaemin fucking in almost every inch of the castle.

Before you can leave, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in for another kiss.

“I’ll see you on the train, baby?”

“You can’t fuck her on the train!”

You both breeze past Jimin’s comment.

“I’ll see you there. Love you.”

“Love you. And hey, I think you’re pretty.”

You giggle and press your lips to his again.

Doyeon and Jimin take you away before the kiss can progress into another round of fucking.

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[inkskinned]

hello. you left a neon pink post-it with pgs 194-359 due 9/12 in the book, by the way. it is now May 23rd and the library's printer is running out of ink. it jammed and tore my passport application. one of the librarians dutifully blacked out all my information (front and back!) before proceeding to use every unmarred inch as scrap paper.

i think maybe our (plural, inclusive) lives are connected. all of them. i have been thinking a lot about borrowing. about how people move through the world in waves, filling in the same spaces. i have probably stood on the same subway platform as you. we held the same book. all of us stand in the same line at the grocery, at the gas station. how many feet have stood washing dishes in my kitchen?

i hope you are doing well. the pen you used was a nice red, maybe a glitter pen? you have loopy, curling handwriting. i sometimes wonder if it is true that you can tell a personality by the shape of our letters. i'm borrowing my brother's car. he's got scrangly engineer handwriting (you know the one). it's a yellow-orange ford mustang boss. when i got out of the building, some kids were posing with it for a selfie. i felt a little bird grow in me and had to pause and pretend to be busy with my phone to give them more time for their laughing.

i have a habit of asking people what's the last good book you read? the librarian's handwriting on the back of my smeared-and-chewed passport application says the glass house in small undercase. i usually go for fantasy/sci fi, but she was glowing when she suggested it. i found your post-it on page 26, so i really hope you didn't have to read up to 359 in that particular book. i hope you're like me and just have a weird "random piece of trash" "bookmark" that somehow makes it through like, 58 books.

i wish the concept of soul mates was bigger. i wish it was about how my soul and your soul are reading the same work. how i actually put down that book at the same time you did - page 26 was like, all exposition. i wish we were soul mates with every person on the same train. how magical to exist and borrow the same space together. i like the idea that somewhere, someone is using the shirts i donated. i like the idea that every time i see a nice view and say oh gosh look at the view, you (plural, inclusive) said that too.

the kids hollered when i beeped the car. oh dude you set off the alarm, oh shit is she - dude that's her car!! one was extremely polite. "i like your car, Miss. i'm sorry we touched it." i said i wasn't busy, finish up the pictures. i folded your post-it into a paper crane while i waited. i thought about how my brother's a kind person but his handwriting looks angry. i thought about how for an entire year i drove someone to work every day - and i didn't even think to ask for gas money. my handwriting is straight capital letters.

i thought about how i can make a paper crane because i was taught by someone who was taught by someone else.

the kids asked me to rev the engine and you know i did. the way they reacted? you would have thought i brought the sun from the sky and poured it into a waterglass. i went home smiling about it. i later gave your post it-turned-bird to a tiny child on the bus. she put it in her mouth immediately.

how easy, standing in your shadow, casting my own. how our hands pass over each other in the same minor folds. i wonder how many of the same books you and i have read. i wonder how many people have the same favorite six songs or have been in the same restaurant or have attended the same movie premier. the other day i mentioned the Book Mill from a small town in western massachusetts - a lot of people knew of it. i wonder if i've ever passed you - and didn't even notice it.

i hope whatever i leave behind makes you happy. i hope my hands only leave gentle prints. i hope you and i get the same feeling when the sun comes out. soulmates across all of it.