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classpecting-the-hoyoverse · 3 days

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Veritas Ratio: The Rogue of Light

Rogue: The passive stealing class

One who steals aspect for others

Alternatively, one who shares or one who redistributes aspect with others

Light

Abstract: Knowledge, Awareness, Attention, Relevance, Fortune, Luck

Literal: Actual Light (Brightness), Vision, Eyes, the Sun, Stars

This is gonna become a series isn't it?

It is. Now let's get going on discussing everyone's favorite interstellar scholar: Dr. Veritas Ratio!!

Let's get the obvious out of the way: His aspect.

Light is more commonly known as the aspect of knowledge. But instead of talking about he’s light-bound personality wise, why don’t we shake things up a bit? We know that he's a smart and knowledgeable man, but what more can his aspect offer for us aside from that?

To fit with Ratio's Greco-Roman theming, I'll briefly discuss the World of Ideas in Plato's allegory of the Cave.

Forgive me to if I do get the allegory wrong and please feel free to correct me!

The gist of this is that ordinary people are like prisoners chained to a cave, only able to perceive reality through shadow puppets and the distorted noises that bounce off the cave walls. These prisoners were born in the cave and had been raised in the cave, not knowing anything else outside of it; ignorance. It's only when they break out of their chains do these prisoners start their path to enlightenment and they achieve it so once they see the bright sun outside of their cave; the World of Ideas.

Ratio seeks to break everyone from the chains of ignorance and guide them towards enlightenment through spreading his knowledge throughout the universe.

Ratio is the man who would forcefully break the prisoners' chains and nudge them towards the light, as much as he could anyways.

And for one specific character, he hopes it is enough.

We'll get back to him later! Next I want to talk about is Ratio and his connection to Christian Gnosticism, which likely had served as inspiration for the concept of the Light aspect in Homestuck. I will be borrowing ideas from one of optimisticDualist's essays so I highly recommend giving it a quick read before continuing onward.

According to Gnostic myth, the world was created through the desires of an aeon named Sophia, an Emanator of light. I should also note that the Greek word for wisdom is Σοφία.

Sophia longed to understand God in His entirety, but in doing so she committed treason and was thus cast out of heaven. Her desire gave birth to Yaldabaoth: a blind, violent, and ignorant god who knew nothing but himself. He created the material world that you and I perceive, shielded from the light of Sophia that birthed him. Because a blind god made the world in his image, the denizens of his earth are also blind to Sophia.

So what do banished gods have to do with the purple guy?

Well, just like Archimedes and screws, things come back around. In order to save yourself from Yaldabaoth’s world, one must be delivered a certain knowledge that is delivered by a “messenger of light” and thus gain the ability to perceive Sophia and her World of Ideas.

In other words, salvation can be sought in what Gnosticism calls a gnosis.

However, one cannot just simply be gifted a gnosis. Those who seek Sophia’s salvation must be driven to reach it, reach beyond the Demiurge’s dark and imprisoning world and into the intangible, bright world above.

Doesn’t that sound familiar?

By Gnostic definition, Ratio should be an Emanator of wisdom, helping curing others of ignorance and helping them on their way towards enlightenment. Hell, you can even say that he's a sylph with all the constant allusions to healing and helping, especially since that Ratio's a Doctor.

However, we all know that this isn't true. Within Ratio's character stories, it can be inferred that his one goal in life is to become an Emanator of the Erudition. His arduous pursuit of knowledge was likely all in hopes in attracting Nous' gaze.

Yet, despite all his efforts, Ratio was never spared a glance

Dr. Ratio is a model Emanator of wisdom by Gnostic standards, yet within his own universe his Aeon of Erudition does not acknowledge him. No matter how hard he tries, he will never reach the status of a member of the Genius society, almost as if he wasn't destined to be a part of it.

Let’s talk about his class: The rogue.

Rogues in Homestuck are the outcasts of their societies. They're loners, isolated, unable to fit in with the groups they want to identify in.

Rogue of Heart Nepeta Leijon lives alone in Alternia's wilderness far from troll society with her lusus as her only companion that is physically close to her.

She's been explicitly described as lonely, creating comics and ships of herself and her friends in order to mitigate her feelings of isolation from other trolls:

Then there's Rogue of Void Roxy Lalonde, who for her first 16 years of life was the only human within her town of carapaces, whom she provides food for. The only other human in her post-apocalyptic world is more than 1700 miles away.

Being a Void-Bound, her isolation is very much apparent, but her loneliness reaches its apex during her bad end in her Pesterquest route. Drinking herself to a stupor as the undeserving consequences of seeing her mother just once consumes her.

And then Rogue of Breath Rufioh Nitram, who was seen as a mutant for his wings and thus was avoided by his fellow trolls, which took a blow on his self-esteem.

Rogues also struggle with a surplus of their aspect and trying to cope up with that extra while it consumes them. Nepeta taking on the personas of other people through roleplaying, as well as her cave walls being covered in shipping grids. Rufioh living a literally directionless grubhood as travels with a nomadic group called the Lost Weaboos, not to mention his wings, a symbol of freedom, being the cause of why he views himself so lowly. And then there's Roxy, who feels so alone in the carapacian bastion that she fills that void with insobriety, befuddling her mind.

So what does this have to say about Dr. Ratio? All three rogues here have exhibited some type of self-worth issues and a desire to connect with others, but due to being so engulfed by their aspect, it hinders them from reaching that goal...

What if tiny Ratio exhibited such intellect at such a young age that throughout his childhood, he was told that he would be a great scholar growing up? Maybe his genius would earn him a spot within the Genius Society. He was even admitted into a university during his adolescent years.

As that is impressive as that sounds, can you imagine how isolating that can be for a child? Ratio, the only kid in class with his classmates years above him, talking about things outside of academia that he's too young to understand. Meanwhile Ratio likely doesn't interact with those his age as they couldn't provide anything to stimulate his brain. It could also be vice-versa too: Ratio trying to talk to them about topics far beyond their comprehension and they just start to distance themselves from him, unable to understand him, making an outcast out of him.

His intelligence and genius isolates him from making any genuine friendships during his formal years of life. At least, any that we know of before 2.1.

This loneliness does seem to follow him well into his adulthood as well: Becoming a celebrity comes with its own flavor of isolation: being surrounded by the limelight yet no one will truly understand you.

And let's not forget about his ambitions to become an Emanator of the Erudition, to become a member of the Genius Society, which he fell short of...

...something that he holds quite close to his chest, a betrayal of his self-perceived character. He became yet, once again, an outcast.

Another thing, I want you guys to got to Ratio's wiki real quick and see how many characters mention him.

How many people do you think were close to Ratio?

Within the team selection menu of Star Rail, Ratio has lines for when he's added to a team with Ruan Mei and Herta, yet the reverse isn't true. Both Genius scholars say nothing when added to a team with Ratio already in it, almost as if they don't acknowledge him.

There is, however, only one character who says something when added to a team with the Mundanite already in it.

Can you guess who it is?

But, as for all classes, their lives aren't meant to be miserable forever. A Rogue must find a way to overcome this loneliness; piecing through the walls of their confines made of their aspect. Instead of just keeping all their aspect for themselves like their Thief counterpart, Rogues find fulfillment through sharing their aspect, often by taking it from one source and distributing it to others. Or in some cases, exchanging something else in order to hand out.

And after all this, I dare say that Ratio joining the Genius Society would be the worst mistake he'd ever make. Stay with me, I have my reasons:

Though we never got to see much of Nepeta in action, we know that she distributes Heart through her shipping chart, arranging couples, distributing aspects of their personalities to see who would go together the best.

The amount of thought that she puts into her ships puts a Sylph of the same aspect like me to shame!

I digress.

In exchange of bringing attention to the Watterbitch that's about to destroy their game, Roxy was able to obscure the progression of her session from prying eyes, covering it in a blanket of blankness in order to keep Batterwitch from knowing what they're up to.

And then for Rufioh, his Alternian counterpart The Summoner lead a rebellion against the Condecse, using his wings to guide his fellow trolls towards freedom.

And even after his defeat, his tale lives on as Pupa Pan. While the tale of his rebellious predecessor the Signless is silenced and therefore lost to obscurity, the Summoner's story lives on, allowing the idea of freedom to flow into the mind of young trolls.

Dr. Ratio's entire character is dedicated to making education accessible for all. Though some of this does end up into his desire to cure people of idiocy, Ratio does truly believe that everyone should get a chance to attain knowledge. I'd even say that his ambition is the reason why he became a professor!

Ratio would dedicate his life towards his goal towards sharing knowledge, even if it meant forsaking Nous' attention in exchange.

His path also affirms this drive. One would expect that someone as knowledgeable as him would be following the path of Erudition, but instead Ratio follows the Hunt.

Ratio's determination to educate, his determination to spread light across the universe manifested into the path he follows. Even if he's never accepted by the Genius Society, he won't let that hinder him or dampen his drive. Ratio just simply strides forward.

The people who make up Nous' faction are described as researchers that rarely interact with each other, and even rarer are the people who are willing to share their research. Ratio would have never found fulfillment in being a member of the Genius Society, I'm almost certain that by joining it he would just be seeking out more and more knowledge, more and more light, becoming more and more isolated.

And one more thing: Rogues are fond of those who manage to get close to them. They appreciate their company and are incredibly dear to them.

For Nepeta, she has Equius.

For Roxy, she has Calliope.

Rufioh had Damara and the Summoner had the Marquise.

So who does Ratio have?

Even outside of a shipping lens, Aventurine is a very important person to Ratio. The 2.1 Penacony story quest demonstrated how much in tandem these two can be together; how much they trusted each other to pull off this huge gamble and draw attention to the death happening in the Planet of Dreams and Festivites. Luck and Knowledge, they both work in perfect harmony.

Aventurine calls him his equal during his episode in “Keeping Up with Star Rail”, claiming that Ratio’s the only one who can understand him.

Ratio and Aventurine must have something closer than just mutual respect however. Before Aventurine goes off into his grandiose self-annihilation, he checks up on him. He risks breaking their façade of disgruntled-coworkers-at-best just to make sure Aventurine can continue on.

Ratio does care for the Stoneheart. So much so that he imparts luck to quite literally the luckiest man alive in hopes that his advice will carry him out of the darkness that he’s in and back into the light. Bringing him out of the blinding Nihility and back into the World of Ideas, back into reality.

And it makes this note all the more important when Aventurine accepts Ratio’s advice, accepting his light when most would brush it off.

Ratio is a bright person, yet most cannot see past his luminosity and at the same time, he can’t shine bright enough to attract those he aspires to be. To remedy this, the Rogue of Light distributes his lights to others who needs it. He wants to cure those inflicted with ignorance and guide them towards enlightenment.

Knowledge for knowledge’s sake is not his Ratio rolls. His altruism may go against what the Genius Society believes in, but he wouldn’t change his ideals for anyone, steadfast in his determination to cure idiocy.

#homestuck #godtiers #classpect #classpect analysis #rogue of light #light aspect #rogue class #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr dr ratio #dr ratio #dr ratio honkai star rail #aventurine honkai star rail #ratiorine

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epickiya722 · 3 days

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I think people took the "hey, you should be aware of issues about the way some stories treat it's female characters" and instead of actually going forward and treating these characters as, well, characters that deserve to be fairly analized

they went backwards and put up impossibly high standards for these female characters and made anything remotely sexual about them regardless of context as "it is evil and bad writing" when they wouldn't ever do the same for the male characters.

They don't even bat an eye for the fact that whole fandoms will absolutely ADORE a guy who is either the most vile asshole in the story or straight up a bland nothing as long as he is generically attractive enough.

Like that's just misogyny but "girlbossed" now.

(I kind of went on a ramble here, I won't lie and I apologize for that. I just.. had a lot to say.)

And I definitely agree with you, Anon.

I made that same point that you stated in this point right here in a post I wrote a while back.

The same people who will say "it's bad writing" are the same people who don't take the time out to analyze a female character.

It's not "bad writing". You just don't want to understand her.

A male character can have the exact same traits as her and can be analyzed and "He's just misunderstood" and adored, but the most that female character can get is the bare minimum from the fandom.

I have my male faves, too, that I like to analyze. But don't the female cast also deserves the attention, too?

Everyone who follows me know I am a big Miruko fan. And I love her more now because over the past... 2 years or so I have written posts about her of why she probably acts the way she does or does the things she do. And it came easy to me.

Mind you, she is a minor character. She doesn't have a lot of screen time and we don't much about her backstory unless you have read Vigilantes where she gets a flashback arc. And even with all the little information she has from canon, analyzing her was fun for me.

Analyzing her actually why it's fun for me when I do so for Yuji.

It's just there.

Let's say a female character is comfortable with her own sexuality and femininity. "Slut, whore, oversexualized". But the same people who apply those terms to male characters in a more positive way.

"Such a slutty waist, look at him so sexy, he's such a whore and I'm here for it".

So let me get straight. A woman can be a sexy character, but a man can even those that aren't even all that sexy.

Again, I'm using Miruko as an example.

People will have grievances over her costume but were so quick to be horny over the male characters wearing that same costume. Which, and I know some of you ain't gonna like, some of them did not look good in.

Also, then what about the male hero costumes or the fact that Shigaraki and Dabi are obvious fanservice now? You're telling me you're okay with the fact that Endeavor and All Might's costumes are super tight but Miruko shows some skin and it's a problem?

Oh, I'll give another example of some fandom misogyny.

Maki Zenin. The JJK fandom be pulling some tomfuckery when it comes to her. "She's such a girlboss". Okay, but you feel sympathize or empathize with her? "Oh my gosh, Sukuna is gonna kill her!" So, let me get this straight. Even though others who have been hit with Black Flash has survived, Maki the one female victim of it is going to die from that one blow? Whose body is pretty much a cheat code against cursed energy? That Maki? That one?

Let's not forget, you can bring her up without someone bringing up Yuta! I wrote a post about her and Nobara and someone goes "At least, Maki loves Yuta, right?" THIS IS NOT ABOUT YUTA!! GOOD GRIEF, CAN THIS BE ABOUT THE FEMALE CHARACTERS FOR ONCE? LIKE, GO SOMEWHERE ELSE WITH THAT!!

And Yuki! Sooo... y'all are upset that Gege killed her off, right? Okay, understanding. I like Yuki, too. With that said... um... then why in the fuck did I have to type a Yuki Lives tag for her despite her being dead in the manga since December 2022? Almost 2 years? There are currently 3 fics with that tag and two of them are mine!

Kaori, oh, the fandom doesn't love you enough! I had to type in a tag for her! There was no Itadori Kaori & Itadori Yuji tag! THAT IS STILL HIS MOM?! "But Kenjaku---" Correct me if I'm wrong, but that is still Kaori's body, right? If Choso states he has three parents, then Yuji can, too. Guess what, Kaori is his mother. People love to make sure others know Kenjaku and Suguru are separate people but what about Kaori? You don't think she was her own person?

From Wasuke's words and behavior, I figure she was different than how Kenjaku acted.

Anyways!!

Also, with Delicious in Dungeon! I haven't even watched or read it and I have seen so many posts about how that one helmet guy had a lot of panty shots and loving it, yet I hear about people having problems with Falin and Marcille being sexualized? Makes no sense to me, it just doesn't.

It's like people in fandoms want something involving female characters just to bash those female characters.

Complex female characters - insult them

Female characters is written to have a variety of personalities and backstory - boring, shifts focus to more bland male characters

Female character exist with many characteristics - fandom focuses on one trait and make that her whole personality

Female character just exists - labeled just one single word, not worthy of any attention, post about her and someone will make it about a male character

Just... honestly, I feel like before you call a creator a "misogynist", how about taking a step back and observe how you treat female characters and understand the story in which those female characters come from?

#kiya answers #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #fandom critical

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jolynesmom · 2 days

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aging yourself up or down in your dr (+ dating)

I actually refrained from talking on this topic on my tiktok since I knew I was going to get chased off the app and didn’t see a point in talking about it on tumblr since everybody here seems to be more open minded and mind their own business, until I saw multiple posts a few days ago here, where the op were shaming people for changing their age or changing the ages of people in their dr

those people definitely came from tiktok and I honestly hope this post reaches them as I didn’t want to directly interact with them

I think one of the posts was about how adults age ‘minors’ in their dr to date them is problematic, which made me laugh, because how is it problematic if they’re both the same age in their dr?

and the sad thing about that post is that the op said that they’re aware how shifting works and all that, but still finds it problematic and hopes people that do that never shift which is just… girly I hope YOU never shift because you don’t deserve it for shaming people trying to live their lives

I’m not going to go into details about the og posts, but they still have the outdated idea that if you shift for a character that is much younger than you here it’s ‘problematic’. once again: how is it problematic if you’re the same age in your dr?

and then they hit you with another outdated take ‘it’s problematic because you find them attractive here’ which is ridiculous because of so many reasons

1.many characters (especially anime characters) don’t act or look their age. if your perceived a character as an adult initially then found out they’re a minor, I simply don’t care. ages in fiction never matter, if your mind perceived x as a certain age then they’re that age idc; 99.99% people are attracted to a character for who they are, not their age

2.many people had crushes on characters when they were younger or the same age with that character and still like them. let’s boo them that their crush on the character didn’t die and their fav character didn’t age, acting like you’re not going to be in their place in a few years

‘not true I’ll stop liking my favorite character when I’m of age 😡’

okay sweetie keep telling yourself that, because I keep seeing people on tiktok that had this mentality: they liked an underage character when they were minors and wanted to shift for them, now they’re adults, haven’t shifted yet but STILL like that character and regret having said they’re gonna stop liking that character when they’re adults because it didn’t happen lol

3.people don’t always script that an underage person here will be their s/o, it just might happen. I’m actually going to use myself as an example for this: so here I’m an adult and I’m also aroace which I dislike because I always dreamed of a fantasy novel like romantic relationship, so I’m straight or bi in most of my drs so I can date. in my jujutsu kaisen dr, all the people in jujutsu tech are adults because I don’t like teens or kids and don’t wanna hangout with them. in my 30+ drs I only have 3 scripted s/os which are all adults here. I didn’t script an s/o for my jjk dr, because I want to focus more on friendships and training there (but secretly hoped choso would pick me, a girl can dream ok); a few weeks ago I channeled multiple people from my dr (yuuji, megumi, nobara, gojo, nanami and geto) and I received normal messages from all of them. I expected all of their answers, except yuuji’s answers which had romantic aspects to them. that made me realize that he might have a crush on me and maybe we’ll even date in my dr or something? who knows, I didn’t think too much about it so idk

so now if a character that’s underage here likes me in my dr, am I supposed to refuse them or shift out? lmao you’re delusional if you think I’m doing that

4.people that have never experienced adolescence love here. a lot of people dreamed of having that sweet experience of teenage romance that disney and an insane amount of shows and movies love to push, but instead their teen years were filled with abuse and hate. why shouldn’t they shift to experience what was taken from them here?

ALSO let’s switch this around: why is okay for minors to date adults in their dr, but not the other way around?

‘it’s not as bad 🤓☝🏻’

imma be the devil’s advocate and say it’s just as bad

do you genuinely think it’s okay to be a minor here and date an adult in your dr? like do you really think your s/o would feel comfortable being sexualized by a minor and dating a person that’s a minor in another reality? you lowkey forced your partner to become a pedo if you think about it 🙁 /jk

and also if you shift to a reality where you’re a minor and become of age there, you’re officially an adult and shouldn’t date minors anymore, even in your ‘original reality’ where you’re still a minor. please keep the same standards for yourself

#reality shifting #shifting #desired reality #dr #shifting rant #shifting discourse #anime shifting #shiftblr

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nereidprinc3ss · 2 days

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OMG. i’m just a bit of a overthinker so i have this bit of a bad habit where i tend to overanalyze everything when i shouldn’t 😃 but since you asked, here are some of the things that made me consider that reader might have daddy issues.

just please please don’t let this affect your work, your writing is absolutely perfect and nothing about it should be changed. again, it’s just me being a weird intp autistic overthinker.

1. it kinda looks like she uses sex to feel loved. she even confronts him by speculating that he might not be attracted to her. through the entire series reader is constantly scared of the idea of spencer leaving her after finding out who she actually is as a vulnerable person based on her nakedness if that makes any sense?

“But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

2. spencer’s character is obviously well known for having an eloquent vocabulary but he even gives me the vibe of being a little bit much older than reader. which is a common thing in women with daddy issues, like me. but again, this is just my way of interpreting the whole thing. he always seems to be so put up together but of course, that might change with the new chapter. even his actions make him sound more older, like in here:

“He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips.”

i’m probably just being weird about it but i just THINK it’s impossible for a guy close to reader’s age to think like this and be this gentle because young men are stupid by default and very few have this sense of gentleness with their actions. even with the way he calls her honey, i have never in my life seen a guy my age call their girlfriend “honey” and sure, this is merely fiction but for this reason i picture both of them with bit of an age gap going on in their relationship.

3. spencer is a bit of a emotionally unreachable boyfriend sometimes! and i’m analyzing this based on his confession towards reader about him regretting his first time. like there is so much rambling in this dynamic and it takes him long enough to be able to directly say it to her. yeah, he wasn’t ready to tell reader he loved her but there were other ways to tell her that he regretted his first time. almost like there is no emotional connection or actual trust between them.

4. sometimes reader is also unable to trust spencer, it’s so easy to see how she’s constantly battling in her head to ask him a simple question or even taking a compliment from him. i know it’s just meant to be portrayed as insecurity but this is actually a common thing in daddy issues as far as i know.

“He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength.”

5. and moreover, this one sentence:

“It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon.”

and this one part as well: Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand.

But again, your work is PERFECT. and i wouldn’t have it any other way. you keep doing you. ❤️

me rambling about the DYBMN age gap and reader potentially being neurodiverse below the cut 🙏 bless

oh so it is definitely interwoven throughout the entire thing and i didn’t even realize you are so right omg😭 this is like in tangled when rapunzel realizes she’s been painting the sun emblem subconsciously her whole life

anyway bff this just made me so ridiculously happy. like the analysis??? the attention to detail???? im ecstatic im losing my mind ily this is so insanely thoughtful thank you for doing this!!!

and yeah i think you could be right about the age gap. i think i technically only put it as an implied warning for one of the chapters but the more i write the more i realize that is definitely a part of the dynamic. but also like?? not all the time?? not for sure?? and i don’t necessarily think that if they DO have an age gap it’s a super big one (although it’s up to you guys, none of my business) i think i feel that way because oftentimes they will behave like peers in the same age group which is how i wrote them on purpose. but it could also be that they’re peers in other ways like let me explain something i’ve been thinking about

reader is insecure not only about being inexperienced in romance but in life, and feeling powerless/helpless in the way that a child might. i think that comes from me being neurodivergent and putting bits and pieces of me into the writing. a very common thing among neurodiverse people is feeling behind developmentally from their peers which the reader is DEFINITELY struggling with so i think she’s lowkey nd coded which wasnt my intent but here we are—and so even if she and spencer aren’t super close in age they might be peers in that sense. as an nd person i often don’t relate well with ppl my age and find myself much more comfortable and finding natural connection w people significantly older than me. so that could very much be a part of it but iddkkkkk reader doesn’t have to be nd and they don’t have to have an age gap but it’s fun to theorize! anyway thank you so much for your thoughts lovely they are so appreciated!!

#asks #ramblings

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aziraphale-novak · 2 months

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something i love about ofmd is the amount of people that simp for all of these characters. which might sound weird but, as someone who has always thought i was less attractive for making 'weird'/silly facial expressions or for having a body that did not match the ones shown in media or even for acting 'cringe', seeing all the (deserved!) love that characters like stede and jim and olu and all the rest receive has made me less self-conscious. and in fact, while actively appreciating them, i learned to love myself a little bit more. idk i just find that amazing.

#ngl the first time i watched the show i cringed at some moments #even the kiss scene!!#until i realized that i was just not used to seeing people being people onscreen #people that didn't try to be constantly attractive and fit into beauty standards #which actually made them much more attractive for me #i was inspired to write this bc i saw a very appealing gif of rhys darby btw #our flag means death #stede bonnet #jim jimenez #oluwande boodhari #my post

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lisxdumbr · 3 days

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The whole "if a person is mad at you it's their responsibility to tell you" thing just made me realize how fucked my situation is. Like just. woah

#who wants to hesr the story of how I lost my irl friends recently (you will I'm spitting everything right now)#anyway so last year one day one of my friends decided to randomly backstab me and she started talking behind my back #and yeah this all made me mad because?? what the fuck #she started talking and revealing stuff that i had confide to her to other people and they slowly started drifting from me #BUt the thing here is that she was manipulating the story. she changed it every time she told stuff to people to make me look bad #i heard one of the things she said about me once and i was like ?? she even make me dislike me in her version which like woa #anyway I didn't understand why she did that because it was ? so random? and then she started ignoring me and has not talked to me ever since #the thing is. she apparently didn't have enough with just doing that. she slowly started to rot my other friends' brains too?#in the sense that. suddenly the rest of my group was ignoring me too. they never said anything to me. or stated that they had a problem #they just ignored me in my face? and yeah that. hurt #recently i found thanks to a third party that one of them decided to stop talking to me because apparently i had hurt her uncountable times #and she was just soo sick and tired of me doing that. which. honestly made me mad because she did not ever express that to me?? so #what was i supposed to do. if she never said anything.#anyway one of my friends confronted her about the treatment they were giving to me. the whole exclusion thing. and her answer was-#”well it's not my fault that she doesn't have more friends and doesn't talk to people”#and i was like. woah. what a poor reply. is that really it.. also apparently they all had agree to stop talking to me as a group-#-and they never informed me so. thank you?#and I'm still here asking what i did to that ex friend of mine. later on i found out she had hooked up with the guy i used to like btw #and she kept it secret. oh and then i started dating my current partner ! person she also felt attracted to. and that's my only explanation.#she started gossiping after what happened with the first guy. so that's really everything that comes to mind as a reason #ANYWAY now that i was at the hospital i didn't receive a single text from any of them. so i guess that was it. people who don't care-#-like that are not friends. those people are not my friends. people who ignore me on purpose and gossip like that are not. my friends #so yeah that's why I've been feeling down lately but ! here I am i ended up ranting so. much #rant #vent #?#woah i actually feel so much better after spitting it all #I'm also following that sour grape advice btw I'm not giving them the privilege of cutting me out. I'M the one who dislikes them now

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numbr-1fabfantasyfan · 7 months

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if he posts anything ab sa awareness or smt i will fukn riot HYPOCRITICAL ASS BITCH

#tw sa mention #tw s@#tw r4p3 #in the tags #bla #hello this is only to get the see more tags option so people dont have to see this bit bc im gna be talking about #some pretty heavy topics yeah #not for long tho i just need to rant for a min #basically he fukn asked my friend #who was crying their eyes out in front of him #if they “enjoyed it”#and if the person was “atleast attractive”#coupled with being friends with someone who he knew sa'ed someone else #whilst still trying to be friends with the victim...#his story changed so many times from “yeah im friends with them” to “im just exploiting them idk what for yet but i am”#spoiler he doesnt know because he literally just made that up #he said it was probably going to be for “academic purposes” but this person is not academically talented at all idk what he was on abt #so those two things hand in hand pretty much give me enough about his stance on this topic #which is why if he tries talking abt the stereotypical “always believe the victim ❤️” “control your men #❤️“ type shit i will actually go crazy

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worldofgoo · 2 years

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something interesting ive been wondering about is how much of me identifying as nonbinary is coping with growing up feeling like kind of a “failed girl” ie not really receiving any of the socializing rites of passage and thus never feeling like i can relate to other girls or really be accepted as one

#i do feel like im still kind of hung up on the fact that as a child i didnt really have close friends my age #i had my cousins which i remember pretty closely like. imprinting on/trying to follow the interests and behaviors of but we didnt see #one another as frequently #and i felt alienated from their expressions of femininity (dressing up)#and then because my parents didnt enforce gendered interests (not saying this is a bad thing) i just happened to not really have much of a #toolkit to relate to girls on the playground and stuff. it was always boys #leading to a desire to be identified more with them. etc #But also being an object of mysogyny is i guess what tied me to feeling like a girl like pushing back against sexist portrayals of girls and #wanting to see myself in stories #kind of a push and pull #Oh yes. cant forget my overwhelming and constant knowledge that boys supposedly all saw me as a target of attraction #that was i think the biggest push to the pull it made me avoid ACTUALLY getting close to any of them

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beelzzzebub · 4 months

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how much of my perpetual and intense longing for a romantic relationship is really just a need for emotional closeness + me being touch starved, rather than actually wanting whatever romance is

anyway i'm thinking about QPRs again

#boink #anyway basically i have recently found myself in a position where a romantic relationship has the possibility to occur #and it's going very much like the only other time something similar has happened for me #which is #i start talking to someone #they're nice and fun and i enjoy having someone to talk to #i'm excited and picturing the possibility of what romance is apparently supposed to look like #things start to move along a little more. we set up an actual date #i start to get anxious #it builds until the anxiety and guilt take over any positive emotion i was feeling before #and that's where we are now #like in theory i desperately want to do all the romance things #but i don't have any of the experience to know whether or not i actually am like. here for that #like am i actually experiencing romantic attraction #or do i like this person as a friend + find them vaguely aesthetically attractive enough to think i want a romantic relationship #like idk how accurate it is to actual aro experiences #but i recently started reading loveless by alice oseman #and it made me think like is it like that #because a lot of the time i kind of do feel like i'm just convincing myself that i like a person #i want to kiss somebody #but what if when i get into that situation. which i have yet to which is why i don't know. what if it's awful #what if that's what this feeling is on the rare occassion where something romancey has started to happen to me #OR what if it's just my normal guilt. what if that's something separate i just need to work out #like that's something i don't really have the space to get into but i know it affects me in a lot of ways #so idk point is everything is complicated and i'm feeling weirdly repulsed by the thought of romance and romantic intimacy rn #i need..... guidance lmao. idk i just feel verryy bad and weird and confused #aromantic #(not saying i'm aromantic just for the tagging of and finding things later ok ok)

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mionghairearracht · 5 months

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....really fucking fed up with the amount of people ive seen imply or outright state that anyone advocating for police abolition has never experienced violent crime.

guess what, some of us have and for many of us a huge part of the reason we support it is because of how absolutely horrible our experiences were.

things police have done for me when ive come in contact with them

tell me that a person strangling a coworker wasn't a reason to call and then refuse help

get pissed when i called back because someone was being fucking choked and they were forced to send someone out

get pissed and accuse the staff of purposely attracting problems after we installed a sharps container to reduce the used needles we'd been dealing with for months when they saw them after we reported another assault....

which took them an hour to arrive at and then they got pissed the victim had gone with paramedics to the hospital and we hadn't somehow held the person who did it for them

harass two witnesses to an assault because the were homeless

harass me because i carry narcan and they overheard me say i used it to paramedics at an overdose

see the shelter van in a parking lot and come in to harass the shelter workers as they helped someone

and so much more

there has never been a situation where police have helped me when i experienced violence and there are a ton where they have made shit much worse.

if the police disappeared and none of the money was redirected i would be much safer, let alone if the money went to organizations and groups who actually gave a shit about people beyond using them as punching bags

who would i call if i needed help? definitely not the people who've repeatedly harassed me, refused to help when needed, and take a fucking hour to show up when someone is being beaten.

probably one of the community groups that's managed to do a significant amount more with a fraction of the budget without guns or harassing victims.

#police abolition #acab #smile rambles

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demieyesore · 28 days

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so dom!mattheoriddle x shy!reader x Theodore Nott who’s there to just hold her and force her to take Mattheo.

just reader, sitting on Theodores lap and him having a hand grasping her two hands and one on her thigh to keep them open. Reader is crying from overstimulation and try to move her hips, while Mattheo is literally pounding into her furiously for talking to another guy. Theodore agreeing with him. 🫢

Jealousy, Jealousy - M.R x Reader x T.N

Summary - A fanfic in which Mattheo and Theodore see you becoming flustered by another boy and get jealous.

Warnings / Mentions - GN!Pronouns, AFAB!Reader, Shy!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Theo is just kind of there, Theo gets no action LMFAO, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia, Reader isn't actually interested in the third party, they only get flustered because they're shy, mention of Hayden Christensen's character Sam because I love him so much that I had to include him...size kink for sure, humiliation kink, breeding kink, mentions of baby trapping, squirting

A/N - As soon as I read this request, I got a second pulse ONG. Also as someone who is shy, writing this made me feel like a total slut

Requested - Yes

Word Count - 2,697

Tag list - @vixxensvoid @maevesversion @sockiess @stylesslytherinskywalker @myheadhurtscutely @yourenogoodforme @gallerygourmet (Add yourself to my tag list and or remove yourself by going to my pinned post! You can also pick an anon emoji through my pinned post!)

Your whole life you have been a shy person; Always getting embarrassed in the most stupid and silly situations. You once got flustered while buying an item at the store, you were trying to explain yourself and stuttering over your words when the shop keeper told you that she was only kidding. The item in question was a packet of Band-Aids, you needed them because you were always tripping over yourself, always finding mysterious bruises and cuts on your body. Unfortunately, Mattheo and Theo had gone a little wild the night before, your neck was absolutely covered in hickeys.

Despite you trying to cover up the purple and red markings; the first thing the older lady said to you when she grabbed the box was, "Honey, you might need to grab another pack with how your neck looks." Of course her comment caught you off guard and you immediately tugged at the hoodie you had on, pulling the neckline upwards in a clumsy attempt to hide the love bites.

So really, it should be no surprise that when a Slytherin boy came up to you and flirted with you; completely unashamed, might I add. You reacted very awkwardly, your face promptly heating up.

You were outdoors in the courtyard of Hogwarts, leaning against one of the trees while practicing a spell from the previous class lesson. You scratched at your head in annoyance and confusion when it once again failed. You huffed a frustrated breath of air as you pocketed your wand.

When you weren't paying attention, a boy walked up to you and cleared his throat to get your awareness. Your eyes drifted up to his face, he had black hair with a streak of blue running through it. He had a multitude of piercings but his most noticeable was one sticking out from below his lip. He wore thick eyeliner and maybe even some black eyeshadow if you were to look close enough.

You recognized him as one of your classmates, Sam. You had never really talked to each other, but you weren't oblivious to him staring during lessons. It never bothered you, it did always startle you and bring a small amount of pink to flush your cheeks. It wasn't out of attraction to him though, more so just being more conscious of yourself knowing that you were being watched, seen, and perceived.

"Having trouble?" He asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. Your eyes widened as you stumbled out a response.

"No, well I mean yes, but not anything too hard..." You replied, anxiously messing with your after school outfit. Sam was quick to mutter something under his breath, something that you didn't quite catch but you swore that you heard him say, "Not harder than me."

He quickly spoke up again, speaking more clear this time and with confidence. "You should come to my dorm tonight, my roommate and I are throwing a little party." Your face visibly faltered, and hesitancy was evident on your features. "I'm sorry Sam, I don't really go to parties and I'm supposed to hang out with Mattheo and Theo."

He looked you up and down briefly, his tongue sucking on his canine in what seemed like irritation. "What they don't know won't hurt them." He gently grabbed your hand, playing with the ring that your boyfriends collectively bought for you.

"Sam, I really wish I could go but I just don't think I can make it tonight..." You whispered, biting the inside of your mouth as anxiety filled your system.

"God, are you stupid? I'm trying to say that I like you." His free hand ran through his hair, messing up the typical style he had it in.

Sam was a cute guy, don't get me wrong, but you simply weren't interested and you already had two boyfriends. Which sometimes they can be even a little much to deal with.

Sam's effort to convince you to go was abruptly stopped as a fist connected with his face. He fell backwards, dropping his grip on you when Theo protectively held you against him. Mattheo shook his hand, trying to find relief from the pain he had caused from punching the douchebag flirting with you.

Mattheo basically spat at the fellow Slytherin, "Yeah? Well guess who's dating them." Mattheo would've beat his fucking ass if you let him; Jealousy was raging through both of the boys. Mattheo was more loud about his anger while Theo was just passive until violence was necessary.

Mattheo didn't want to spend another goddamn minute of his time near this asshole, he was already on the ground so there's no need to continue the fight when he's already won. Mattheo's hand grasped your upper arm, dragging you in front of him as he walked away from the Courtyard. Theodore followed loosely behind, his hand resting on the lower part of your back.

They lead you through the corridors, not uttering a single word as they pushed you into their shared dorm. They had already shed their school robes before the quickly ended fight, never wanting to wear the uniform afterschool.

"What a fucking dickhead." Mattheo scoffed, referring to the scene that just played out. He sat on the end of his bed, manspreading while trying to shake the feeling of jealousy. His hands with intertwined as his head hung, just looking at the ground. Theo on the other hand was massaging his temples as if he had a headache.

"The audacity to say all that bullshit is unbelievable." Theo's accent was more prominent, often a result of his temper running thin.

He said an array of curse words in Italian, none of which you could understand. Mattheo just kept staring at the ground, something was definitely on his mind besides the interaction.

You sat down next to Mattheo, Theo still standing; even beginning to pace back and forth. Mattheo put one of his large hands on your thigh, kneading the skin possessively. He was now staring at your thighs and how his hand roamed your skin. His opposite hand was holding up his face as he lazily laid on his palm.

"Why were you blushing?' He finally asks, his fingers impatiently tapping along his cheekbone. Theo's pacing stops as he turns to look at the both of you. His eyebrows furrowing as he thinks back.

You tilt your head in puzzlement, "What?" Mattheo groans, throwing his head back before turning towards you. His left leg hiking up onto the bed. His hands moving to latch onto your hips while he leans in. His face laying on your shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. "I said, why were you blushing? He said he liked you, and you were blushing." Mattheo murmured, his controlling side peaking out. He was trying his hardest to stay calm with you, but he couldn't keep his thoughts away. He saw how you looked at that freak, a blush settled on your face while he messed with the ring that he and Theo got you. It was a promise ring, although that part was technically a secret. They never called it a promise ring, just a gift. But both of them knew that it was them promising themselves to you and to each other as they adorned the same matching ring.

"Mattheo- I was just flustered, you know how anxious I get...especially with other people..." You defended but Mattheo persisted. "With other people? Are Theo and I not enough to get your heart racing?" He quipped back as he selfishly left kisses on your throat.

"That's not what- that's not what I meant!" You stuttered out, your heartbeat increasing in your chest. He hummed against your neck, sending vibrations down to your core. "Right, I forgot, you only get shy around us when we fuck you."

"Mattheo, don't say that..." You whined, embarrassment flooding your veins. "Why not? Too vulgar for you?" He questions, still pressing firm kisses into you. Theo finally laughed a little bit, already knowing where this was going. He sat down on the bed, leaning against the headboard while he watched the heating up conversation.

"Yes! You always say such...risky things..." You mumble out, trying to find the words to explain his vocabulary. "Risky? You really think so? Theo, what do you think?" Mattheo scoffs, his arms protectively enveloping you while he looked over your shoulder at Theodore. Your back was turned to the boy with light brown hair.

Theo thought for a moment, pausing just long enough for you to nervously push at Mattheo's hold on you. Suddenly you felt too warm, like your skin was on fire. Mattheo tightened his grasp on you, placing another kiss to your neck. "Stay still." He whispered, his voice low and commanding.

Theodore ultimately decided to say, "I think...they should be just as flustered when talking to us. We're your boyfriends after all." His sentence started out directed at Mattheo but switched over to you at the end. "Theo-" You whined out in a complaint.

"Always so whiny..." He counters while Mattheo sucks at your jawline, demanding your attention once more. "You heard him. We're your boyfriends, that nobody shouldn't be getting reactions out of you that we don't." Mattheo lets go of his clutch on you, shoving you backwards, leaving you to fall towards Theo. His soft hands pulled you into the free space between his legs. You were in a position where you were partially sitting upright against his chest but loose enough that you were still laying down.

Theo's hands gripped the underneath of your thighs, prying your knees to bend so your legs were open. Mattheo swiftly removed his shirt, tugging the fabric over his head. He shuffled over to your open legs. He practically yanked off your pants, pulling your underwear down along with it.

"This okay?" Mattheo glances up at you, checking in with you. He observed as you nodded your head slowly. One of Theo's hands gripped your jaw, his sultry tone dripping. "Words."

You twisted your head away from the boys, wanting to just disappear from shame. "It's okay..."

"Good, because you obviously need a reminder that we're the only ones that can make you feel like this." Mattheo mumbled under his breath. He undid his belt, tossing it to Theo. Theo made quick use of the leather, tying your wrists together as he secured the rest of the belt in his mouth. Wanting to make sure that you couldn't move your hands while his own held your legs open.

Mattheo unzipped his jeans, freeing himself from the restrictions of his boxers next. He spat his saliva onto his cock, stroking himself a couple of times to coat the fluid over his dick as a makeshift lube.

"Sorry sweetheart, not getting you ready for me today. I need you now." He admitted, lifting your hips and forcing them to wrap around his waist.

He ran his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness. "Holy shit, no foreplay and you're absolutely soaking. You little slut." He ridiculed. You failed in an attempt to close your legs, feeling the embarrassment seep into you while Theo tightened his hold on you, keeping your legs secured in place.

"Aw, poor baby, too flustered from my words alone?" He mocked as you rocked your hips closer to him, teasing his tip.

"So needy for cock..." He whispered as he finally pushed into you. Your walls squeezed around him as you tried to adjust to his size. "Fuck, don't snap my dick off. I forgot how tight you are, shit." He said breathlessly at the feeling.

He slowly moved, trying to ease your cunt into the movement. When you started to roll your hips onto him, Theo slapped your thigh, holding you down with enough pressure so that way you couldn't get yourself off.

Mattheo gained his pace, his hands laying on your hips as he thrusted into you. You could feel Theo's boner pressed against you but he made no strive to relieve himself in anyway. Mattheo pounded into you with no mercy, the sound of your moans echoed in the dorm. You tried to hold back your moans, even trying to muffle them. Mattheo could feel you flutter around him as you climaxed for the first time.

"Couldn't even hold off on one orgasm for a little longer? Fuck, you're such a little slut, you'd probably like it if I slapped you. Maybe you'd cum on my dick harder if I manhandled you." You whimpered at his words, they repeated in your mind as he kept fucking you through your high. But he didn't stop and you knew he wasn't gonna stop.

"Oh come on baby, you can take a little more can't you? Don't you want to be good for me?" He taunted as he slammed back into you. "You know that nobody else could make you cum like this right? Ain't ever gonna leave us." He chattered to himself possessively, as if he was talking himself through the experience.

His thrusts became sloppy as he chased his own high, his eyes were closed tightly as his head flew back. He was still pumping deeply inside you as he came. He pulled out for a second, watching as his cum leaked out of your sopping hole. "So pretty when my cum is inside you."

His eyes darkened as he swallowed harshly. He pushed his tip back at your entrance, but not fully entering you. He was pushing his cum back into you, his eyes were hazy as he re-entered you.

"Can't fuck anyone else if you're carrying my baby, now can you?" He fantasized aloud. He quickly regained his composure, regaining speed, not even allowing you the time needed to recover from your climax.

"Mat-Mattheo, stop, I'm too sensitive..." You whimper out, moans falling loosely from your lips like a waterfall. You could feel the wetness between your thighs, you could feel every single touch, your skin was crawling. It was all becoming way too much. "Too much, it's too much-" You could feel your mouth going dry as you started to overheat, but none the less, Mattheo kept tearing through your cunt. "All worn out? Too fucking bad." He muttered in a cold tone, not caring about the discomfort you were feeling. You tried to pull your hands apart, the skin itching from the leather belt wrapped around them. Tears began to form in your waterline.

Mattheo was essentially abusing your pussy, all he wanted and craved for was to feel you pulse around him. He drilled into you, observing as you stiffened again, your body shaking as another orgasm was pulled from you. Tears were fully streaming down your face from the overstimulation.

"So fucking precious when you cry, all tired from my cock ruining you. I wonder just how cockdrunk I can get you." You mumbled, jutting your hips out as you squirmed from pleasure and pain. Theo struggled to hold you down, groaning when you accidentally rub against his painful erection. "Stop fucking moving." Mattheo demands, slapping your cunt causing you to whine.

Theo removes one of his hands from your thigh, placing pressure on your lower stomach, making it so you could feel Mattheo's cock inside you even more. You moaned so loud that it was almost pornographic. "Feel that?" Mattheo asks, throat going dry when he sees the bulge in your stomach. He looks at Theo for a second, speaking as if you weren't even there. "Fuck, you should see just how our baby's cunt sucks me back in. Every damn time." He moans, as he cums inside you again. Filling you up, he still doesn't stop, not until the bed is dripping in your liquids.

He finally comes to a stop, pulling out of your pussy with a pop as you squirt. You sprayed his dick with the fluid as he just smiled down at his work with a dominant aura. He was getting off on the fact that he had made you squirt, getting off on the fact that only he and Theo could make you cry from how good they felt.

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husbandhoshi · 3 months

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[9:47 AM] *suggestive

the first thing you learn about seungcheol is that his towels are embroidered. csc, they read, in gold thread on absurdly plush bath towels.

(actually, the first thing you learned about him was that he's a good kisser. you learned this the hard way, outside the bar, after all your friends had gone home and it just was you, him, and his tongue in your mouth.)

as a rule, you try not to learn anything about your late night escapades, but, evidently, you have already failed.

it's easy to notice his bathroom looks much bigger than it did last night, now that all the lights are on. he has not one, but two, matching rugs, and the sconce lights make the marble countertop look like it's made of water. nestled in the corner is a little tray with all his cologne lined up end to end—armani, dior, chanel.

you pick up the silvery one on the end and smell the cap. (yes, this one. he was wearing this one last night, right in the space where his collarbone met the base of his neck. you had kissed him there, and he had asked you to go home with him. creed, aventus, it says.)

he even has the drunk elephant moisturizer, although it looks criminally underused. it sits among a small pile of skincare that looks like it costs twice your monthly paycheck, if you had worked overtime.

you have to remind yourself you're not here to snoop through rich people's bathrooms, as fun as that sounds.

seungcheol was a quick fuck (and a really good one at that), but you already feel like you've overstayed your welcome.

the plan—in and out. you hate the sticky, too-warm goodbyes, the small talk at the kitchen table, the unexpected rattle of a roommate coming home. worst of all, they never want you as badly in the morning as they did the night before.

but the plan has already gone to shit. you woke up practically spooning him and your little bathroom detour cost you ten minutes. and it's almost 10, which is what he has his two-hundred dollar alarm clock set to.

you shut the bathroom door as quietly as you can, hoping to make a quick getaway. but it's here, caught in the waxy overcast from the huge windows, where, for the first time in your life, you almost want to say fuck the plan.

"morning," seungcheol hums, propping himself up on the bed. you take one look at him, shirtless and sweats slung low, and you lose the plot entirely.

yesterday, when you had met, it looked like he was made in some kind of factory for hot men—starched white shirt rolled to the forearms, hair perfectly gelled, and a fat breitling watch hugging his wrist. and yet, as you watch him blow a cowlick out of his eyes, he seems even more attractive, which you would have never thought possible.

"someone's eager to get outta here," he says, enjoying the way you avoid his eyes. "don't tell me it was that bad for you."

you smile nervously. what you can remember about last night is that it was anything but bad. the whole thing makes your face feel hot—you are no prude, but he sure makes you feel like one.

"is that what it looks like?" you answer. you realize you can't find your shoes. you think he threw them somewhere last night, between the memory of his hand up your dress and yours in his hair. he kissed his way up your legs and you forgot you even had shoes to worry about.

"almost, if you weren't checking me out just now."

damn. guilty as charged. you can't help it. things feel too good to be true.

first, you learned you got fucked by a million dollar dick last night. now, instead of kicking you out like any other one night stand, he's acting decent, maybe even more than decent. and he has the tits of a god.

seungcheol sees your face wrench up in puritanical shame and he laughs.

"well, if you have time in your busy, busy schedule," he starts, with a grin that makes you dizzy. "i'm making breakfast. and i would love to eat it with you."

suddenly you don't know why you ever had a plan in the first place. you watch him attempt to wink at you from all the way across the room and you think getting to know him might not be such a bad thing after all. maybe things are too good to be true, but you're willing to find out.

needless to say, the second thing you learn about seungcheol is that he cannot cook.

the third? he's an even better kisser sober.

#GUNSHOTS.#this was supposed to be cute but i made it horny. sorry #seungcheol #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol x you #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol smut #scoups x reader #scoups fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #mine #rq

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cupid-styles · 6 months

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only angel (tattoo artist/plug harry)

in which harry owns a tattoo shop, sells weed on the side, and has a big crush on y/n, a shy virgin who's very much enamored by him.

here is part one of tattoo/plug harry!!! I hope you like it :) please lmk if you'd like more from them <3

word count: 10.2k (!!!!)

content warnings: y/n's parents being unkind people, comments and discussions about weight/disordered eating, fainting (caused by a piercing), smut! (y/n's first time being fingered, dirty talk, harry being a soft dom)

masterlist | talk to me

part two

. . .

Y/N doesn't know why she's here.

If the glares from the employees of the tattoo and piercing shop are anything to go off of, they don't know why she's here either. And it all makes this whole thing even more embarrassing.

In reality, she does have a reason to be here. Mai, one of the few friends she's made in her grad school program, asked if she would drive her down to The Village for a tattoo appointment she had.

Y/N's eyes nearly bulged out of her skull when she asked, especially when she pressed for more details about this tattoo she was getting (it was a strawberry just above her hip, which Y/N didn't quite understand considering she thought tattoos were supposed to be meaningful). But, ever the pushover, Mai ended up convincing her, going as far as getting her to come inside — the one boundary she had — and wait while she got it done.

(Thankfully, her parents had some benefit charity thing going on today, so they weren't concerned with Y/N's whereabouts or where she was taking the car they bought her on a Saturday afternoon.)

The shop, called St. Mark's Place Social Club (aptly named, she supposes, considering it's located on St. Mark's Place), is nice. Unlike what she imagined tattoo parlors would look like in her brain, the spot Mai chose to get tattooed at seems sanitary and actually quite trendy.

It's not wildly crowded with customers hustling and bustling around, but there's a few artists at work at their own small stations. The walls are painted a cozy forest green, all donning frames upon frames of, what Y/N assumes are, sheets of tattoo designs. The receptionist who checked Mai in even offered them some water, which Y/N thinks was very nice.

"Are you nervous at all?" Y/N asks quietly as they sit in the rattan chairs in the waiting area. Mai's filling out some questionnaire on an iPad, but she shakes her head at her question, crossing her legs.

"No, not really," she murmurs nonchalantly, "I have a few tattoos already and I've been here before. The artist that's doing it is really cool and he's so hot."

Y/N's mouth forms around an oh as Mai quickly taps her signature into the tablet. She stands from the rickety chair and walks back over to return it to the front, her heeled boots clacking against the wood floor as she does.

Y/N has her gaze set low in her lap, eyes passing over her fresh manicure (her mother has a standing weekly appointment for her). She doesn't even notice that someone's standing over her — more so, towering over her — until the figure clears his throat, her head snapping up to address them. Assuming she's done something wrong (what it is, she isn't sure), she goes to apologize immediately, but the long haired man in front of her cuts her off.

"You have an appointment?"

Instantly, she flounders. Her mouth drops open as she stumbles over an answer: "I— um, no, I'm not— no, no appointment."

"So you're a walk-in, then?"

"N-no," she shakes her head quickly, his all-black outfit forming a blur in front of her eyes, "No, I'm not getting a tattoo."

The man laughs. He actually laughs at her, and Y/N doesn't know whether she should be embarrassed or pleased that she's made this very attractive man smile.

"You're sitting in a tattoo shop. You know that, right?" the stranger crosses his heavily tattooed arms over his chest, and Y/N's eyes fly to the swirls of black ink covering his skin. They're everywhere; all different fonts and images and numbers and... she wonders if he even knows what they all mean or how many he has.

"Yes," she finally manages out, folding her hands neatly in her lap. It's the default body language she goes to when she's nervous — when she was a teenager, her parents paid for her to go to social etiquette classes, and the instructor told her that this was a good way to show that she was in control of her actions, even if underneath her pastel pink turtleneck, her chest was covered in hives. "No, I'm not getting a tattoo. I'm here with someone getting one."

Thankfully (though Y/N would've preferred it happening about two minutes earlier), Mai walks back over to them, a grin taking over her features when she spots the man talking to her.

"Harry!" she greets excitedly, and Y/N watches as his eyes flicker over to her, flashing a tight smile in her direction.

"Ah. This is who you're here with." he — Harry, apparently — says to Y/N. She doesn't know what she's supposed to say to that (if she's supposed to say anything), but any response is once again cut off. "Hey. You ready?"

She only now notices the gum wedged between his teeth, his jaw moving in a hypnotizing way. His tone appears to be far more clipped with Mai, but Y/N is fast to chalk it up to some fluke. Maybe the other employees mentioned something to Harry and they thought she was in the wrong place or something. That would make sense, she thinks.

"Yeah, all good. I'll see you in a bit, Y/N," Mai nods, swinging her bag over her shoulder, focusing her attention to Harry, "So listen, I'm going to a show in midtown tonight, I was thinking maybe after we finish up here we can—"

"Are you coming back with us?" Harry's eyes fall back onto Y/N, and it's only then that she realizes he's talking to her again.

"Uh... am I allowed to?"

He smirks. Y/N's chest feels like it may concave in simply from the sight.

"I own this place, so yeah, you're allowed to."

Mai's tapping her foot impatiently now, her hip popped out slightly with her arms crossed over her chest. "My appointment started a few minutes ago, Harry—"

"Okay," he says curtly, turning on his heel to face her, "Go in the back and get ready then. You know where my station is."

Both Mai's and Y/N's jaws drop at that, his snappy tone clearly not one to fight back on. Surprisingly, Mai does just that, turning around and walking back to where Harry has his things set up.

"You coming, then? Y/N, right?"

The teasing smirk is still painted over his features, as if he finds humor in outwardly rejecting Mai's advances. Y/N doesn't know why her heart beats a little bit faster at that, warmth spreading from her chest to the rest of her body as he continues gazing down at her.

"Y-yeah," she answers, grabbing her purse and standing up. "If it's not too big of a deal."

"Course not. C'mon, you can follow me."

. . .

Mai's tattoo comes out beautiful.

However, Y/N can hardly focus on the artistry and apparent talent because she's far too busy staring at Harry, who also looks beautiful while he works.

It's distracting, embarrassingly so, that she barely even registers when he's finished wrapping her new tattoo in some sort of clear wrap, sending her back up to pay. Quickly, Y/N scrambles to grab her things, realizing that she's once again left alone with Harry.

"What, running away so soon?" He asks as he cleans up his work station, spinning around to face her in his chair. He has that smirk on his face again — the one that simultaneously intimidates her and makes her entire body burst into flames — and anxiety begins to eat away at her, nervous of saying the wrong thing.

"I just— you're done. So I was gonna go."

"How do you know Mai?"

It bothers her somewhat that he ignores her, but being the subject of his intense glint, she shifts her stance from foot to foot, shrugging her shoulders.

"We're in the same grad program. We've had a few classes together." she answers obediently, clutching the strap of her purse closer to her shoulder.

"Mm," he hums, tossing some paper towels in the trash, "You sure you didn't want any tattoos today?"

Y/N's face erupts into a hot flush for the thousandth time today and she instantly begins to shake her head. "No. No, thank you, I mean. My parents would kill me."

"Your parents?" Harry asks, a slightly stupefied expression on his face. "You're in grad school. Surely you don't make decisions on your appearance based off of them."

He punctuates his sentence by giving her a once-over and she feels nervous under his gaze. She's never particularly felt good about her appearance. She's always just felt... neutral. She grew up with a mother who was constantly dieting, imparting weight loss tips on her every chance she got. When Y/N hit puberty, her father made comments about how grateful he was to finally see her drop the "baby weight". Even now, her mother critiqued her, making comments about how important it was to maintain a good figure; that she'd never find someone to spend her life with if she didn't take care of her looks.

So, all in all, it was safe to say that tattoos were extremely off the table for Y/N.

"It's complicated," she finally replies vaguely. She knows that most people in their mid-20s aren't as deep under the thumb of their parents as she is, but she wasn't lying when she said this — the circumstances weren't as black and white as she wished they were.

However, there was something she'd always been curious about, and she had seen the piercing rates out in the front of the shop.

"But, um— do you guys do piercings?" she follows up before Harry has a chance to question her parents any further.

"We do," he replies slowly, "Well, yeah, I do. Why, are you thinking about getting something pierced?"

She swears his eyes quickly glance to her chest, but just as quickly as she notices it, they're focused back on her face. She clears her throat, willing herself to have an ounce of self-confidence.

"I was wondering if I could get my ears pierced."

Harry quirks an eyebrow and stands from his chair. Her heart rate speeds up tenfold when he walks over to her, his hand reaching outward.

"May I?" he asks, pausing before he makes any movements. She nods, hoping he misses the way her throat bobs in nervousness. Gently, he pushes some of her hair behind her ear, taking a look at the lobe. He does it to the other one and she wonders if he can sense that she's holding her breath.

"Hm, you really don't have them pierced," he mumbles lowly, eyes flitting back to her face. "Yeah, we could do that if you'd like. You sure daddy won't get too pissed?"

He says it with a simper though she's not entirely sure why; she thinks if he understood the dynamic between her and her parents, he'd be more concerned than teasing. Nevertheless, she shakes her head.

"Like you said," she says softly, blinking as they stare back at one another, "I shouldn't make decisions on my appearance based on what they want."

His smirk breaks into a grin, and for the first time, Y/N feels like she's doing something right.

. . .

Y/N didn't think she would be this nervous to get her first piercing, but between the gorgeous man invading her space with a needle and the fact that Mai definitely won't want to be her friend anymore, she's feeling a little tense.

Before getting situated in the chair, Y/N said that she needed to tell Mai she'd be a bit longer, but Harry waved her off and told her he'd take care of it. Apparently, that just meant peeking his head out from his work station and yelling out to Mai that Y/N was busy and wouldn't be driving her home. (Y/N thinks she heard Mai practically stomp out of the shop.)

So now, she's spending her Saturday the last way she thought she would: With her eyes squeezed shot, anxiety making her heart thump far too fast in her chest, with a long-haired tattoo artist hunched over her body. He's so close that she can smell the woody fragrance of his cologne, and she has to resist breathing it in as she inhales deeply in an effort to calm her heart rate.

"Alright, you ready?" Harry asks lowly, his tone a groveled murmur that sends tingles down her spine. She nods, feeling particularly speechless from his closeness and her nerves. "'kay, I'm gonna count to three. Take a deep breath."

Y/N imagines he looks especially gorgeous right now, but she's too scared to open her eyes and see the needle he's about to puncture her skin with. Instead, she simply nods her head again, mentally preparing herself for the countdown.

"Breathe, dove," he says calmly. Her stomach jumps at the pet name but does as he says. "Good. Okay... 1, 2, 3."

She jumps from the bite of pain that stings her earlobe, instantly wedging her bottom lip between her teeth as he shushes her.

"It's alright, that was it," he murmurs, though she can still feel him at her side, carefully wiggling the earring into the newly formed hole. "Y/N? You okay?"

She blinks her teary eyes open and opens her mouth, willing her throat to push out a yes. Instead, Harry's face goes blurry as the images in front of her get hazy. In a panic, she tries to stand, the ringing in her ears sending loud alarms to her brain. She thinks she hears Harry tell her to sit down, his strong arms taking a hold of her own — but that's when everything goes dark.

. . .

Harry's known this girl for all of two hours, and he's never felt panic ravish his body the way it did when she passed out a few minutes ago.

Thankfully, she comes to less than two minutes later (he counted), but he remains by her side the entire time, gently stroking her hair back. As a professional tattoo artist and piercer, he's of course had people faint under the needle, but it's never happened from just a standard ear piercing.

He supposes he maybe should've prepared himself for this. The sweet girl who accompanied Mai didn't look like she belonged at St. Mark's Social Club, but the moment his eyes zeroed in on her, he felt pulled to her. From the pastel pink top that stretched over her chest to the white ribbon tied in her hair, she was the opposite of any girl he's ever been attracted to — and yet, all he wanted was to tuck her under his arm, pull her into his chest, and spend the rest of his life protecting her.

Harry tells himself he's being stupid; some lovesick nerd that just needs to get his cock touched, but as he watches her slowly nurse a cup of water, warmth returning to her complexion, every doubt is thrown out the window.

"I'm so sorry," Y/N pouts, lifting a hand to run through her hair, "I'm... I feel so stupid, I'm so sorry, Harry."

"Why are you apologizing?" he asks through furrowed brows. "It's not your fault. People pass out all the time here, you have nothing to be sorry about."

"Y-yeah, but this is annoying... you probably have another appointment coming up and—"

"I don't."

"Yeah, but—"

"Y/N?"

"What?"

"Stop it."

She huffs, but the apologies stop after that. With his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the wall, he watches to make sure she finishes her water. He can tell she's still feeling embarrassed and it bothers him that she thinks of herself as something to feel sorry about.

"Y'know, kinda looked like some kind of badass Sleeping Beauty while you were passed out," Harry says with a smirk, making her eyes widen, "Pretty cute, if you ask me."

Y/N's face warms and he chuckles, deciding that making this girl blush is his new favorite past time.

"You're being silly." she mumbles, finishing off the water with a final swig. He shakes his head and takes the empty cup from her hand, tossing it in the garbage can behind her.

"Would never lie to you, dove. We're going on what, three hours of knowing each other? I wouldn't even dream of it."

"Harry," she whines and it makes him immediately grin, especially as she pushes her bottom lip out in a slight pout, "Shush, stop it."

"Think I should just call you princess from now on, hm? Such a pretty face coming in here, think I got lucky having you pass out on me."

He laughs loudly when her lips part, her jaw slack from the compliment. She doesn't have a comeback for that one, but he assumed as much. He turns to face the cabinets behind him and grabs a paper towel and a pen, quickly scrawling out his number on it before handing it to her.

"This is my number. I'm not gonna do your second piercing today 'cos that sounds like a recipe for disaster, but I want you to text me when you wanna come in and get it done," he explains, "I only work here on the weekend, but I'll come by any day you're free, princess."

She shuffles her feet before nodding her head, stuffing the paper towel in her bag. "O-okay. That sounds good."

"Good," Harry breathes, reaching out to for her hand to help her up, "Do you need a ride home?"

"No!" her eyes dart away from his face, blinking quickly as she focuses on the dark green walls. "Um, no, thank you. You've done enough for me today. I appreciate it, Harry."

"Sure," he says slowly, narrowing his eyes at her, "Okay, well... get home safe for me, alright?"

"I will." she nods and punctuates her sentence with a harsh swallow. "Can I... is it okay if I text you when I get home?"

A gentle smile wiggles its way onto Harry's face, warmth filling his body once again.

"You took the words right out of my mouth, princess."

. . .

To: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

hi, im home!! im so sorry again for what happened but thank you sm for making sure i was okay. hope it wasn't too inconvenient!

Y/N's never texted a boy she has a crush on (well, except for Jason Saunders in the 8th grade, but her dad found out within the hour and made her delete his number as he watched). She thinks she must still be lightheaded from fainting because there's no way she can seriously have a crush on someone she barely knows, but nonetheless, she pushes herself to message him to at least thank him for everything he did for her.

She sighs as she throws her phone in her purse and climbs out of her Range Rover. Locking the doors, she crosses her fingers as she walks up the stairs and to the elevator of the luxury garage, pressing the penthouse button on the panel. She hopes her parents are still out — if they're home, she'll be on the receiving end of their badgering for the rest of the evening, and she still wants to work on a paper she has due later next week.

When the sleek elevator doors open, she's met with silence — the only telltale sign that she's alone, with the exception of her parents' private chef and maid. Relief floods her body as she steps out and into the apartment, toeing her shoes off in the entryway and taking quiet steps to her bedroom.

She's exhausted from the day, flopping down on her bed with a sigh. Mindlessly, she feels for her phone in her bag, pulling it out to scroll through Instagram before she commits to doing work for the rest of the night. Instead, she's met with not one, but two texts from Harry.

Remember what I said about apologizing, princess?

Glad you made it home safely. Don't forget to text me about your second piercing — just name the day and I'm there. xx

She wants to let out a squeal, even if there's a large part of her brain that's constantly reminding her to limit her excitement. He's probably just being polite, she says to herself.

Still, it doesn't stop her from replying a mere moment later, promising to restrain her apologies and message him when she's ready to get her other ear pierced.

. . .

"Where were you yesterday?"

Y/N blinks at her father as she sets down the spatula, shifting her attention from the buckwheat pancakes she's currently cooking.

"Studying on campus," she replies easily, even if she had to coach herself all night to lie. She's never one to fib, let alone to her parents — she's always felt some type of fear when it comes to her father, but she knows he never would have approved if she gave him some vague answer about taking a friend to an appointment.

He lets out a noncommittal humph. "You know there's no reason for you to be getting a masters degree when you'll just work at the company when you graduate."

Her stomach tightens. It's a frequent area of contention between she and her parents — their dream for her has always been to work at their jewelry company as soon as she graduated college, but she somehow managed to convince them to entertain her wish to go to graduate school for an English degree. They told her she could do it as long as she starts at their office as soon as graduation comes around.

She hasn't quite yet figured out how she's getting out of that one. If she even can.

"I know, father," Y/N forces out, redirecting her attention to flipping the pancakes on the pan. "It's just important that I get good grades."

"I can't imagine it's very difficult. You speak the language."

She bites her tongue. Her parents have never understood her love for books, always scolding her for having her head in the clouds from a young age. If she's being honest, books have served as a way for her to escape, always wishing she could be the girl getting whisked away by her romantic interest.

Things always worked out in her books. Potentially having a happy ending like the ones she reads about is the only thing that keeps her going sometimes.

Her mother, looking pristine as always even at 9 in the morning, enters the kitchen just as Y/N's sitting down to her eat. Turning stiffly, her eyes narrow at her daughter.

"Those better not be full fat, Y/N." she says, jabbing her pointer finger at her plate.

"They're not." Y/N says softly.

In response, she simply hums. "I don't understand why you don't just have Freya make you food. She's there for a reason."

Y/N quickly stuffs a bite of pancake into her mouth, shrugging her shoulders as she slowly chews. She's never felt comfortable requesting their chef make her anything to eat when she was perfectly capable of doing it herself.

"Don't shrug. It's not ladylike," she scolds, Y/N's posture immediately straightening, "We have a lunch meeting with the Franklin family today. If you're available, you should come. You need to start learning the business."

"I have to work on a paper," the lie rolls off her tongue, knowing full well that she nearly finished it last night, "Finals are coming up. School is getting very busy."

"You know, Y/N, you're lucky we grant you all this freedom." her mother spits, the high heels of her Louboutin shoes clacking against the marbled flooring. "One day, you're not going to have this much of a choice in how you spend your time."

Despite only eating half a pancake, Y/N no longer feels hungry. Instead, she just nods her head and rolls her lips into her mouth.

"You're right. Thank you for everything you do for me."

She clears her dishes and goes back to her bedroom before her parents have a chance to see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

. . .

Y/N spends the better part of Sunday crying in her bedroom.

She's so exhausted of this cycle. Her parents work so hard to tear her down all the time, never once taking into account what her dreams and aspirations are. She feels like she can't do anything right, as if nothing she'll do will ever please them.

In her fit of anger and sadness, she decides she needs to leave Harry behind. He's just a pipe dream, a tiny little sliver of what her life could be if she had less restrictive parents. That night, when she's laying awake in bed, she decides that in the morning, she'll take the fresh piercing out and throw the earring away, delete his number, apologize to Mai, and pretend like this weekend never even happened.

That is the plan, anyway.

Until she wakes up to her alarm at 8 am and she has an unopened text from him, and her heart beats in a way that she's never truly felt before. She doesn't think she's ever smiled this wide after just waking up, the mere appearance of his name on her screen sending waves of hope and happiness throughout her body.

From: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

How's the piercing holding up?

After getting home on Saturday, he texted her a series of care instructions for the piercing, instructing her to clean it twice a day, twist the earring, and let him know if anything felt off. She wasn't sure what it was, but she felt particularly giddy when he told her what to do.

To: Harry (St. Mark's Social Club)

good!! no pain or anything and ive been doing what you told me to :)

She has a class at 10 this morning and she knows she should follow her typical routine of a shower, breakfast, and getting ready, but instead, she just lays back in the fluffy tufts of her bedding, smiling to herself as she waits for Harry to text back. A minute or so later, her phone vibrates.

Good girl.

Think you'll come in for your second anytime soon?

Her stomach twists in a delicious way but she's not sure why. There's nothing inherently sexual about what he's messaged her, but it has her craving more, a steady heartbeat forming somewhere deep in her core.

Her eyes read over his question and she bites her lip. She knows that less than 10 hours ago, she was planning to forget Harry, but the feeling he gives her is addictive. She doesn't want to stay away — so she won't.

yeah, if you don't mind doing it :)) maybe today?

In reality, she doesn't want to go under the needle again so soon, but she's craving to see him. He did say he'd come in any day for her.

Harry: I'd love to. What time are you free?

Y/N: i have classes from 10 to 1 today.. would 1:30 work? i can come by on my way home from campus

Harry: How about I meet you at your last class and we walk to the shop together?

Y/N swears her heart is going to beat right out of her chest. Her parents have never allowed her to hang out with a guy outside of anyone they approved of — over the years, they've attempted setting her up with other men of their same financial and social stature, but Y/N was never interested. As a result, they all grew bored of her by the second date, and her parents would yell at her for not being appealing enough.

She doesn't know if Harry will be bothered by the same thing, but she wants — no, she needs — to find out.

Y/N: okay:)

Harry: Great. Can't wait to see you. x

. . .

Harry knows he's pushing it.

This girl may as well have wealthy virgin tattooed across her forehead, but he just can't get himself to stay away. It doesn't seem like she wants him to either, which just makes it harder. And as he's waiting for her outside of her lecture hall on a campus he's never even step foot on, he realizes that they're from very, very different universes.

That doesn't really bother him. He can see the obvious differences — he wears all black, has over 70 tattoos (most of which were impulsive or practice while he was apprenticing), and gives people tattoos and piercings for a living. Y/N is smart and soft; an English major in graduate school, lives with her parents, and drives a car that costs more than his yearly rent.

He's not blind. Although, if he was blind to pretty, innocent girls, he probably could stop walking around with a permanent boner from thinking about how gorgeous she'd look in his bed.

The only thing that can tear him from his thoughts is the sight of her. He watches as she walks through the doors of the building, a slight pep in her step when she notices him, waving her hand with a smile. He licks his lips absently, willing the arousal pooling deep in his stomach to go away.

"Hi," she greets as she approaches him, "How're you?"

"I'm good." he answers, trying his best not to let his eyes wander over her outfit, "How was class?"

"'s okay. Kind of boring. Almost fell asleep once or twice."

"Yeah?" Harry chuckles as they begin to walk towards the nearest campus exit. "Gotta stay awake in those smarty pants classes of yours, princess."

He already knows she's blushing before he turns his head to see the familiar flush flower over her skin. He points to the bag over her shoulder, pausing his steps. "Lemme carry that for you."

"Oh— no, you don't have to, I don't want to be annoying—"

"Why would that be annoying?" he asks with a quirked brow. She swallows, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable."

"N-no, it wouldn't," she shakes her head and he nods, keeping his arm stretched out. She pushes the strap down her shoulder and hands the bag to him. "Thank you. That's very kind of you, Harry."

"What d'you have in here, a ton of bricks?" he asks teasingly as he slips the pink tote over his own shoulder.

"No! I have to bring books to campus every day so we can discuss certain passages and stuff. I guess I've been doing it for so long I didn't notice how heavy it is."

"It's very heavy, Y/N," Harry says, stuffing his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, "No wonder you're falling asleep in class, you're basically doing an upper body workout on your way there."

"It's not that big a deal," she replies nonchalantly. "It's just— it's what my professors want, so."

He continues grumbling, annoyed that anyone would ask this girl to shuttle all this weight to campus every day.

"Can you start parking closer to your lecture halls, then? I don't wanna find out you dislocated your shoulder one day."

She shakes her head. "I don't drive to campus."

"Oh, is parking that bad?"

Y/N begins to fidget, wringing her hands out in front of her as they walk. Harry glances at her from his peripherals, soaking in the nervousness written all over her face.

"No... my parents don't let me drive to campus, that's all."

He hums, attempting to stay unbiased, even if everything he's learned about her so-called parents has only made anger rise in his chest.

"Do they have a lot of limits on things you can and can't do?"

"Kind of. I don't know."

"Is... is that something that bothers you?"

She worries her bottom lip between her teeth as they stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. He shifts his body to face her.

"I've never really told anyone about how they are, but... well, they take care of me. They always have. They just have a very clear vision of what they want for me."

"Right," Harry nods, "Just because they care for you or pay for certain things doesn't mean they're good, though. I'm not saying they aren't— I just don't want you to confuse the two."

"I guess."

He decides to leave it at that, mainly because he can she's growing uncomfortable, but also because they're approaching the shop. He pushes the door open and holds it for Y/N, who sheepishly walks in, Harry close behind.

He doesn't acknowledge anyone as she follows him to his station, but she supposes it's not out of the ordinary for him to do these things since he's the owner. Once they're safely sheltered by the walls of his space, Y/N lets out a breath, sitting down in the chair she was in on Saturday.

After setting her bag down, he washes his hands at the sink. A long-haired guy pops his head in, grinning when he sees Y/N.

"Hey, H," he greets, "Didn't know you'd be here today."

Harry's tone is gruffer towards the man, even though he seems friendly. "Yeah. What's up?"

"I need a favor. I have an appointment that looks like it's gonna take a little longer than anticipated — last minute changes and all that to the design, but Jude is coming in to pickup at 2. You mind dealing with him?"

He glares at the man before assuming what Y/N is starting to call his signature pose — arms crossed over his broad chest, leaning back against some surface in his station (today, it's the tattoo bed).

"None of the other idiots can do it? Kinda busy."

"It's your off day, figured you could handle him," he shrugs, "Unless you'd like to introduce me—"

"Shut up." Harry replies, clenching his jaw. A spark zips up Y/N's body, though she's not sure why he seems to take offense to the man's words. "Yeah, I'll deal with it. What does he want?"

"Just some edibles and a few grams of bud. Nothing crazy."

Again, Y/N doesn't miss the way Harry shoots a glare at him, who simply raises his hands in mock defense. As if speaking through some sort of secret language, he backs out of the room, his Adidas sneakers sounding crisply against the wooden floors as he walks away.

"Sorry," Harry mumbles.

"Oh. It's okay."

He turns back around to look at Y/N, who somehow looks even smaller in the chair since they arrived.

"You have no idea what that was about, do you?"

She shrugs, though it's clear that Harry's right. She doesn't often like showcasing her naive nature, like it's some sort of party trick for people to laugh at. It makes her feel sad, a reminder of the "normal" years she could have had if not for her parents.

He sighs and lifts a hand to run through his messy hair. "A few of us sell weed on the side here. It's not really a big deal, but we just do it for some extra cash on the side. I would've rather told you on my own time, though."

Y/N's palms find her thighs, plucking at the hem of her skirt as she swallows, digesting the information. Weed? Her parents had always taught her that all drugs were bad. In their minds, weed was just as bad as heroin, but when Y/N read about states legalizing the former, she didn't quite understand how that made sense.

"I hope that doesn't make you think any differently of me," he continues. "I'm sorry."

She keeps her eyes set in her lap, "Is weed... bad?"

She's expecting him to laugh at her but instead, when she looks up, she's met with a small, adoring smile on his lips. His eyes twinkle just a bit as he shakes his head.

"No, it's not bad, dove. What do you know about it?"

"Nothing, really. I know it's legal in some places but my parents always told me to stay away from any drugs."

"I think a lot of parents do that," Harry replies with a nod, "But it can actually be really helpful for people. Mentally, physically. And others just like it, they enjoy the feeling of being high."

She swallows before biting her lip. "Do you... do you like it?"

"I do." he says. "Is that okay?"

She thinks he could tell her he's a serial killer and she would be okay with it.

"Yeah. 's okay."

His grin widens. "Alright. Lemme get you settled with this other piercing. I'll have to step out to sell to Jude at 2, but after that, do you wanna grab something to eat?"

She nods so fast she feels like a bobblehead. A chuckle — the warmest, most melodic thing Y/N thinks she's ever heard — sounds from his mouth.

"Just don't pass out again on me, Sleeping Beauty."

. . .

Y/N takes her second piercing much better than her first.

(And by that, she means she only teared up a little bit, and no fainting occurred.)

She's actually more nervous about the whole weed... thing. She feels torn. There's a half of her that feels intimidated by it; the part that still has a foot stuck in her parents' world, she supposes, where they taught her to never even look at people like Harry. The other half of her is intrigued to see what happens. Fascinated by him, maybe, and the way she feels when she's around him, and she doesn't know whether that's a good thing or not.

"Harry!"

Someone calls his name from the main room as he's cleaning up and he peeks his head out.

"Yeah?"

"Jude's here!"

He looks a lot less flighty about it than she assumes he would. Instead, he simply walks back into his station and unlocks a bottom cabinet to reveal a safe inside.

"Know you're watching, princess," he says, turning his head to flash a toothy smirk in her direction. She looks away, blinking nervously. "Don't reveal any of my grand weed secrets to anyone, hm?"

"I'm not," she huffs, making him chuckle, "I'm just... curious."

Harry hums, pulling contents out from the safe. When he's done, he doesn't even bother concealing any of the weed he's just taken out, instead just rising to his feet.

"I'll be right back. We can talk about the curiosity in a second."

Y/N's not snappy enough to come up with a response so she simply watches him walk away. She's only seen drug deals go down in movies and TV shows, where they're dramatic and part of the mob and guns are a necessity. She doesn't think this is one of those drug deals, but who is she to assume?

Surprisingly, Harry returns less than two minutes later with a small wad of cash in his hand. He pockets it, smiling at her when he sees she's still sitting there, the same perplexed look on her face.

"Steal any of my bud while I was gone?"

"Harry!"

He cackles and shakes his head. "Alright, dovie, c'mere."

Hesitantly, she stands, shuffling over to where Harry is back to kneeling on the floor. He looks up at her with an expectant expression, a wordless command to do the same. She does.

"Okay. You said you were curious?"

She nods.

"I've always found that the best solution to curiosity is knowledge. This doesn't mean you have to do anything, but it's good to know about things that may intimidate you," he explains. "So, weed can be found in a few different forms. I only sell flower, which are these little buds," he pulls out a container, showing her the small green nuggets. "And edibles, which is just candy or chocolate, stuff like that, with different levels of potency."

"Oh." Y/N furrows her eyebrows, a small wrinkle forming between them. "That's it?"

He chuckles, "Mhm. That's it."

"And what does it do?"

"Like how does it make me feel?"

She nods.

"It's different for everyone and strains — like, the types of weed — will affect people differently, too. For me, it just makes me a little more relaxed and giggly, more touchy and less in my head. It's nice."

"That does sound nice." she says softly. He hums as he pushes the container back into the safe, locking it back up in the cabinet. "Do you think I would like it?"

It's a question that kind of blurts out without thinking about it. When he turns to look at her, eyes serious and thoughtful, she feels small; the way everyone her age or older has always made her feel. She swallows harshly, immediately regretting it.

"I don't know the answer to that, but if you ever want to try, you can tell me. I'll make sure you have a safe experience."

It's not the answer she's expecting, but instead maybe the one that only exists in her wildest dreams. She looks down to hide her blush and he smiles to himself, ducking down to catch her eyes.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're a blushy little thing."

Her jaw snaps closed, wiggling uncomfortably at his blatant call out. Her mother always told her that her emotions were easy to read — she said it made her weak, though.

"I like it," Harry quickly amends, throat bobbing, "I like it a lot."

She thinks she notices his eyes zip to her lips, but just as quickly as they dart down, they're back up to her eyes. She swallows when she realizes they've somehow gotten closer, the distance slowly closing between them in millimeters. She doesn't know who's moving in — if it's him or her or both — but suddenly, she's looking up and his face is hovering over hers, blinking in silent permission. When she doesn't grant it because she's too nervous to speak, his tongue peeks out, licking over his raspberry lips.

"Is this okay?" He asks, minty breath ghosting over her mouth. "Can I do this?"

She nods, because she thinks any noise that would come out of her mouth would be just that — a sad excuse of a squeal. Her heart is pulsing in her ears, her hands trembling over her thighs, and then it happens — he presses his lips to hers, so gently it's almost like they aren't even there. The last time Y/N kissed someone, it was in ninth grade in the locker room after school, and she doubts it even qualified as a real kiss. This is different, though. This is Harry.

He feels the nervousness radiating off of her so he breaks away, despite the already addictive taste of her mouth. He's gone too quickly and it makes Y/N's heart rate quicken even faster.

"Need you to relax, princess." He says with his forehead pressed against hers. "Just follow my lead, okay? Promise it's not hard."

Embarrassed, she nods again, willing him to close the gap for a second time. This time, his lips are quick to move against hers, and it initially takes her by surprise. But she does what he told her to, mimicking his movements in tentative paces. With each passing moment, he's kissing her more and more breathless, and she lifts a shaking hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. It's a bold move for her and she swears she feels his signature smirk form into their kiss.

Time doesn't feel like it moves much when Y/N's mouth is on Harry's, but she knows it is because she needs a break to breathe. With panting lungs, she pulls away, watching as Harry's eyes flicker open. His lips are pinker somehow and swollen with spit. The image makes her core throb.

"Y'okay?" He asks. Y/N notices his pupils are darkened and he shifts from his seat on the floor, adjusting his lower half.

"Y-yeah," she nods, "Needed to, um, breathe."

He chuckles. "Yeah? Get a little dizzy there?"

"A little bit."

"Cute," he murmurs, lifting his thumb to swipe a bit of spit away from her bottom lip. Instinctively, her mouth opens, and she watches as his eyes flicker to hers. Through labored breath, he slowly moves his thumb along her plushy lip, resisting the urge to sink it inside. She's not sure why something as small as this is stirring her insides, but her eyes widen when he breaks away, pushing the finger into his own mouth.

"Oh." She breathes out.

"I don't wanna scare you," Harry whispers, "But I'm completely fucked when it comes to you, dove. If you don't want this... want me, I need you to go now."

She swallows. Slowly, she rises to her knees and inches towards him, closing the small gap that formed between their bodies. She's hesitant in her movements but pushes herself to straddle him, gently sinking her ass down into his lap. His eyes widen.

"I want this. I want you." She says.

"Good," Harry mumbles, brushing his lips against hers for the third time that afternoon, "Good."

. . .

Y/N thinks she could go pro at lying to her parents.

A month ago, she had to spend hours preparing the perfect fib, coaching herself on how to articulate it just casually enough so it didn't seem fabricated. These days, they come out like nothing.

I'll be home late, I have a group project to work on in the library.

I'm going to a tutoring session for one of my classes, I probably won't be home until dinnertime.

I'm spending some extra time on campus today so I can get a head start on a paper.

In all truthfulness, school couldn't be the furthest thing on her mind right now. Harry is.

Ever since that day they kissed at his shop, they haven't been able to spend more than a day apart. Mostly, they follow the same routine from that very afternoon, where he'll pick her up from her last class of the day and they'll walk back to St. Mark's together. Sometimes, Harry will have deals to do so they sit and talk in the downtime. Other days, he'll have actual work to tend to, accounting and whatever it is he does as a business owner, so she'll do some homework, enjoying the silent companionship. Y/N never stays too late into the evening, not wanting to push her luck with her parents, but Harry always sends her off with a kiss that leaves her breathless, making her promise to text him when she gets home.

And the kissing... yeah.

Y/N likes to think she's gotten better at it from all the practicing they've been doing. She still gets a bit flustered, but it's one of her favorite things to do with him. The second they shuffle into his station, Harry closes the door so they're finally in private, and it's like a switch is turned on. Within seconds, they're wrapped up in each others arms, mouths wet and hot against one another. She's discovered that her favorite place to be is seated in his lap while his tongue explores her mouth, breathy pants parting her lips. He loves to squeeze her ass over the pleats of her skirt, knowing that it riles her up in the smallest forms of contact — tiny rolls of her hips, nails being pressed into his skin, a slight pull of his hair.

She doesn't think things could get much better with Harry until today, during their typical makeout-and-grinding session, when he ducks beneath her jaw, pressing messy kisses to her soft skin. It's then that the words leave his lips.

"Can I feel you under here, dove?"

His hand is fisting the hem of her skirt and the low tone of his voice makes lightning zip through her body. She doesn't know how to reply — she wants to say yes, but her mouth is dry from immediate anxiety.

"N-no one's ever touched me there," she whispers, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Harry hums, unbothered, kissing her jaw once more before backing away slightly.

"Don't have to do if you don't want to. We can just keep doing what we've been doing if you'd prefer." he replies nonchalantly, his lips swollen. She swallows nervously, perturbed by his frank nature.

"I— I do want you to feel me," Y/N mumbles. It's not a lie — yes, she's a virgin who knows next to nothing about her body besides its reproductive process, but sometimes, when she goes home in the evening, she thinks about what it would like to keep going. She's seen movies and TV shows, but those have only made her even more curious. Sometimes the guy takes it slow and makes it romantic, other times it's painful and uncomfortable. She can only hope Harry would take care of her.

"Where, princess?"

Well, she can only hope that Harry would take care of her in his typical teasing ways.

Huffing, she shakes her head. "I can't say that, H."

"Can't touch you if I don't know where you want it," he murmurs, kissing her cheek lightly. "Wanna hear you say it. Ask me."

"Harry," she whines. "Please? You know... where."

"Here?" he asks, pressing his the warmth of his hand to her thigh. "This where you want me?"

"No."

"Hmm, how about here?" he moves his hand up just a bit further, inching underneath the fabric of her mini skirt to the crease of her thigh. Again, she shakes her head.

"Dunno where you want me then, dove. Thought you were my good girl."

"H-higher." she mumbles, attempting to push her body closer so he gets the hint.

"Higher?" he echoes with a smirk, "Here?"

This time, his fingertips have found the waistband of her panties. It immediately feels wrong, but not because of who's touching her, but rather the act of it. She takes a deep breath and tries to ignore the voice in her head. Slowly, in an act of false confidence, she bunches the fabric of her skirt up at her hips, watching as Harry's eyes widen. They instantly dart down to the small wet patch between her thighs and it makes him groan softly.

"Jesus," he mutters, forgetting about his little game. He gently thumbs at her clit through the material and she jumps. Using his other hand to squeeze her hip, he tries to keep her steady, mumbling out an apology. "Am I allowed to see this cute little pussy?"

She clenches at his question, surprising herself with how turned on she feels from just a few words.

"Yes," she nods, "Please."

"'Please'? Aren't you just the sweetest wet dream, hm?" Harry murmurs. He pushes the width of the fabric to the side, making Y/N shiver from the sudden exposure and being under his gaze. "Are you always this polite or is this just for me, princess?"

She licks over her lips when he parts her pussy with his ring and middle fingers. He hums, dipping a fingertip into her crease and lifting it to his mouth. He looks at her expectantly and she realizes she hasn't answered him yet.

"J-just for you."

"Pretty, swollen pussy just begging for attention. Do you always get this needy when we kiss?"

She nods, her eyelashes fluttering as he runs the tip of his pointer finger through her wetness.

A poor excuse for an answer sounds through her lips, the affirmative tone being the only thing that gives him an idea of what she said. He snickers boyishly, Y/N's jaw dropping when they both feel her pussy pulsate.

"I think my girl is a bit naughtier than I thought," he breathes, moving his finger back up to her clit to form slow, small circles. She gasps from the intensity, a new sensation of overwhelming pleasure that she's never received before. "Is that the truth, dovie? Do you wanna be my naughty girl instead of my polite one? Tell me."

"Harry," she mewls, arching her back to press deeper into his touch, "P-please— feels really good."

"Yeah?" he smirks, a mocking tone to his voice that makes Y/N squeeze her eyes shut. "Yeah, does it feel really good?"

"You're— you're being mean—"

"Oh, I don't think so, dove. I think I'm letting you use my fingers to get off, petting this pretty little clit until you cum all over my hand. I don't think that's mean, do you?"

He stops stroking at her and her eyes snap open. She can feel how warm her face has gotten under his touch, quiet puffs of breath ghosting over his lips as his eyes twinkle, knowing what he's done.

"Why'd you stop?" she asks in a small voice.

"You said I was being mean," Harry replies with a shrug, "If I were really mean, I'd leave you here high and dry. Do you want to learn about edging today, Y/N?"

She shakes her head, her bottom lip pushed out in a pout. He hums and lifts his hand to his mouth, his pink tongue darting out to swirl around the fingers that were just caressing her. She watches him with wide eyes. She doesn't think she's ever been this turned on in her life.

"Do you like when I tease you?" he asks lowly. They both know the answer — her body couldn't lie even if she wanted to, and Harry noticed it the second he felt her pussy clench against nothing at his mocking tone.

"Y-yes." she whispers.

"Dirty girl," he murmurs, moving both his hands down to her hips to give them a squeeze. He tightens his hold on her and gently moves her up to the tattoo bed, helping her lay down. "We have all the time in the world to learn about what makes your pussy wet, but right now, I wanna make her cum. Can I do that, dovie?"

Y/N nods, allowing him to adjust her body however he wants. He smiles at how pliant she is for him, sticking to her good girl demeanor.

"Need you to tell me if I go too far or if something doesn't feel right, okay?" he reminds her as he fits himself between her thighs, "At any point, you say stop and we do, no questions asked."

"Yeah. Okay."

It's apparent to her that Harry is experienced, because it takes no time for him to wiggle his fingers back to their initial position. His thumb is applying the smallest bit of pressure to her clit, still sensitive from when he was playing with it before, but now he's circling over her hole with one of his larger fingers. She gasps at the slight intrusion.

"Have you ever put your finger in here, princess?"

She shakes her head. "N-no."

"Do you want me to?" he asks, though he can already feel the way her hole is all but sucking him in, "It won't hurt. Promise."

She trusts him — maybe foolishly, because she knows her parents would disown her if they knew the position she was in right now — but she pushes the thought to the back of her head, instead simply answering his question with a nod. He keeps his eyes on hers as he slowly pushes in, a gasp instantly falling from her plushy lips. Her immediate reaction is discomfort, but as he starts to stroke at something towards the back of her walls, it feels... good. Overwhelmingly good. So good that a loud moan frees itself from deep in her chest and he jumps up, gently pressing his other hand over her mouth. He ducks down and presses a kiss to the shell of her ear.

"Know I'm making your little hole feel so good, but there's other people here. I wanna keep those moans just for myself, okay?"

Her eyes roll back as he continues to pump his finger inside of her, the assault on the magic little spot never stopping. She can sense the smirk that's likely formed on his face but she can't find it in her to care because she's never, ever felt this good before. She whimpers against his palm and he groans quietly, the sight of his gorgeous girl writhing beneath him nearly too much to handle. He wills his own raging hard-on away, instead focusing on Y/N's need to cum before he can even consider getting himself off.

"H-harry," she sounds beautiful mewling his name even when it's muffled by his hand, "I feel— I'm—"

"I know, dove, I know," he coos, quickening the loops around her clit. She's growing increasingly sensitive from his touch as her hole throbs around his finger. "Let go for me. Let go for daddy, lemme see that pretty pussy soak me."

Realistically, he would've preferred introducing her to the whole daddy kink thing on different terms, but he's instantly reminded of how insanely lucky he is when those are the words that push her over the edge. His jaw drops as he watches her squirm underneath his hands, riding out her orgasm and squeezing him in the most delicious way.

"Fuck, you're so fuckin' beautiful," he groans, unable to stop himself from lightly grinding his covered cock against her inner thigh. He can feel the warmth radiating off of her core and his desperation to feel her grows by the second.

When her orgasm finally subsides, she's panting heavily and he swallows, palming himself over his pants.

"Is this okay?" he asks breathily. Y/N raises up onto her elbows, her eyes growing a bit wide when she sees what he's doing. Despite how exhausted she is, she still nods, the curiosity of what he looks like when he comes steadily building inside her. "'s not gonna take me long — that was the prettiest thing I've ever fuckin' see. Jesus."

She blushes but he doesn't notice as he pulls his cock out from under his pants and boxers. He spits into his palm and starts to stroke himself, his gaze glued to the swollen mess between her legs.

In college, Y/N watched porn once. It was with her roommate and her friends, who found out she was a virgin and asked if she knew anything about sex. She didn't, so they had some sort of debauched education night for her, which was really just an excuse to giggle and make fun of the way guys moan in porn. It made her feel weird, watching this couple have sex on camera, but what she does remember is the girl encouraging him to cum. Once she started begging, it pushed him to her orgasm, and Y/N was pretty impressed with that.

So, she swallows her self-conscious nature and gazes up at Harry as the slick pumps over his length grow clumsy. She can see the pre-cum bubbling at the tip and the way he gathers it with each stroke, using it to further lubricate himself.

"Want you to cum for me," she breathes out, the words sounding foreign when they leave her lungs, "Please. Wanna see it."

Harry's eyes nearly bulge out of his head and she assumes she's done something right by the way he quickly squeezes them shut, a quiet fuck falling from his lips.

"Please cum for me, daddy."

Much like it was for her, the use of his honorific is what finally pushes him to his finish. His jaw goes slack and his chest vibrates with muffled groans as spurts of cum rain down on Y/N's mound, eliciting a small gasp as the feeling. It's messy, but she's enamored by how gorgeous Harry looks when he comes: swollen lips, clenched abs, flushed cheeks, his large hand fisted around his length.

"Shit," he mutters, reaching up with his clean hand to push his curls out of his face, "Are you alright? Was that okay?"

She nods far too quickly for her own good. She'd be lying if she says she isn't slightly overwhelmed, but she wouldn't take any of it back. She never wants to forget how good he made her feel, while the knowledge that she's the one that turned him on like that is a boost to her confidence.

"Lemme clean you up, hold on," he says breathily, reaching over to grab one of the folded hand towels in the cabinet. Gently, he runs the fabric over her sensitive bottom half, shushing her softly. He does the same thing for himself and then helps her shimmy her panties back up. "You sure you feel alright, dove? You're being quiet."

"'m okay. Just tired." She replies truthfully, sitting up to lean back against the wall.

"Yeah? One little orgasm and you're ready for a nap?"

She giggles and buries her head into his shoulder, her limbs feeling particularly jelly-like. He wraps a loose arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, chuckling as he presses a kiss to her hair.

"That's alright. I'm happy to take care of you however you need, princess."

. . .

"When were you planning on telling me the bookstore is hiring?"

Harry's eyes widen at Y/N's unusually bold demeanor. He glances down at her, following her gaze to where she's staring at the small bookstore across the street. Sure enough, there's a help wanted sign in the window.

"I didn't know you were looking for a job, dove," he replies with a shrug. In all honesty, he's never really paid attention to the business across the street from his own.

"Well... I'm not really, but I do want to start making my own money." she says softly, biting her lip.

He raises his eyebrows, "Yeah? You wanna go see if you can fill out an application?"

Despite her nerves, she still nods her head. Harry smiles and intertwines their fingers together, guiding her across the way to the bookstore. He holds the door open for her and she swallows anxiously, stepping inside the quaint store. With his hand pressed to the small of her back, he gently ushers her to the cashier.

"Hi," she says shakily, "I saw you're hiring people and I was wondering if I could apply."

The woman at the front grins, immediately launching into a conversation with Y/N about how excited she is that someone's interested in working for them. As she pulls a paper application out from a drawer on the side, Harry smoothes his hand over her back, rubbing it gently. He's so proud of her, his heart feels like it could burst.

It's only when she's finishing up filling out her information that someone says her name. They both turn, Y/N's eyebrows instantly furrowing in confusion.

"Y/N," the woman hisses, and Harry glances down to watch his girl's face crumble, "What are you doing?"

"Y/N... who is this?" Harry asks, his possessive instincts immediately taking over.

She swallows harshly, tugging at the sleeves of her sweater.

"Um... this is my mom."

read part two here!

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