#and I need to learn to not be such a perfectionist on here
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seagull-scribbles · 1 year ago
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Taxidermy fingerprints, taxonomies our differences
[Part 2 here]
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shirogane-oushirou · 5 months ago
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🌊🦦 Summer Beach Time 🦦🌊
soooo i made comments in the tags of another piece i made about how i want to go to the beach (or a lake tbh, he's a lake guy) with him, and watch him get the zoomies in the water and just. walk around and make the 🥺 face at me when i'm sitting at the edge of the water and he wants to be close.
(i'm obsessed with this pair of dino pattern trunks... ren core...)
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the-greek-mythos-project · 6 months ago
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The Greek Mythos Project: What We Accept Within Submissions
Hello everyone, it is once again Camila here and I am writing this post because I decided I should probably clarify things sooner than later. I know I and quite a few other lovely people can struggle with open barriers within things, especially in such a large and "imposing" project, so I decided to write down the general specifics of things to lessen everyone's anxiety. This can and will definitely be improved if we are given more information/questions/asked for clarification so feel free to check every once in a while or reach out if you don't see a specific question you have answered. This is once again here to promote better communication within things and break down this large project to more manageable things. So, let's get into it!
[Note: This post will go from the broader, more unspecific, topics to the smaller, more specific ones so feel free to scroll down or up as you please :)]
The Biggest Thing First! One Singular POV. This is something that I, Camila, want for the project and therefore, it will be the most enforced thing within here. Don't worry, though! We will be releasing a Second Work alongside this main project consisting of things that didn't quite fit into the original project, such as works that aren't exactly (or at all) one POV but still want to be recognized or OC pieces that are like reincarnations of various gods/mortals/characters which I'll get into later. So you work has a place with us, I promise you <3.
Anyway, back to the One Singular POV thing. It genuinely does not matter whether the piece is First Person, Second Person, Third Person, or something within those parameters as long as the setting, scene, thoughts, and work are being described in that one character's thoughts/experiences. A great example of this in Third Person is in the Heroes of Olympus by Rick Riordan, a popular YA Book Series centering around Greek Mythology in a Modern Setting told by their Demigod Children, where the narrative is in Third Person POV but it only ever follows whoever's POV it's in. Such as we do see the character's actual name and "he/she/they" instead of "I" but we're not privy to anything other than what the character is experiencing.
That is what I am asking for, and I am asking for this mostly for myself!) As we all may know by now, this project was created because I--Camila--took one look at my goal to rewrite the entirety of Greek Mythology in my search to learn more about the Greek Myths, was like "yeah... no," and then proceeded to make this public with the intent to bring out those niche writers, gain a community, make friends, and generally learn more about the various communities and ideas surrounding such a vast and deep thing such as Greek Mythology (remember, people not only know this across the globe, but across centuries. It's not just our ideas and the original texts, it's the Roman Empire's thoughts, the Rise of Christianity, all of our forefathers, and even those who we have read dissecting these things and creating academic papers or other works. It's just so interesting how much character and change and even how much influence various things have had on our modern perceptions). But, this is also a Project, this is also mine, and so I am very politely asking for it to be One POV of a Greek Mythological Character--However Niche They May Be--Only.
Thank you so much for understanding and, again, I will be hosting a Secondary Fic for all the things that don't quite fit under this Main Project but may still want to have the recognition/community that this comes with <3.
Note!! Because this post ended up being a little long and would be hard to properly organize going further, the rest of it will be comprised in reblogs <33
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gorillaxyz · 8 months ago
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sigh........... i keep posting i cant stop sorry. but anyway i just remembered drama class.......... urrgh. im so harsh when i give constructive criticism/feedback i hate it bc no one wanrs to talk to me "sorry i just got thrown off bc cam is so critical" dont blame me because you dont know how to stay in character 😕 i just told you it doesnt make sense to wave your hand at the side of her head where she cant see it
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theskyexists · 9 months ago
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I hadn't realised that work is so much constantly telling people what you're doing and that it's so great. I hate that
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xqueen-of-disasterx · 30 days ago
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𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 (𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝟕) - 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, alpha!Nat, omega!reader, breeding kink, omega vers, hormone controlled sex, soft sex?
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲: While on the run of a failed mission you failed to take your heat suppressions luckily Natasha is there to help
𝐀/𝐍: If you'd ask me to spoil what I'll write for half time I'd have to say it gets nerdy if you know 🙃
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Natasha pulled you swifty with her as your cover had blown up in your faces, you ran through the tight alleys, feeling like prey in the eyes of your hunters. “We need to get a car” Natasha called, running in the direction of the highway. She pulled the driver out of his car not caring about stealing from a random man, this was a life or death situation. The first time in a long time you could breathe through. “Are you okay?” She asked, as she maneuvered the car through the streets. 
“Yes I’m fine… just some scratches” You reassured her but she was still skeptical. “If you say so…” She mumbled under her breath, her grip on the steering wheel relaxing “We need to keep it calm for the next few days, I know a safe house around here” A few days? You couldn’t handle being without your heat suppressions  for so long. You’d go into heat, while trapped in a safe house with an unmated alpha. 
Being one of the few omegas in all of S.H.I.E.L.D, wasn’t easy but you learned to not show what you truly were. Always on your heat suppressions and acting like any other Beta would make your life so much easier. You couldn’t imagine working with a bunch of hormonal alphas who thought just because you weren’t mated yet, that they had the right to be creeps towards you. If you had the chance you tried to convince Hill that you’d be put on missions with betas or other omegas but it wasn’t always possible. 
Sure Natasha was one of the most respectful alpha’s you knew, even though she was an infamous bachelorette. Even her self control would have a breaking point. 
The safe house was a few hours away from any civilization, a few hours away from a drug store selling heat suppressions. But then again how would you explain the whole situation to Natasha, which would blow your cover. 
The safe house was only a small cabin covered in the white snow falling from above. Natasha opens the door for you to reveal the small inside of the cabin, the  only sounds being the quiet drops of water hitting the skin so that the pipes wouldn’t freeze. “Quite cozy” She joked, closing the door behind you. 
“That’s one way of putting it” You smiled “I’ll try to make some fire maye you can look for some cans of food” She nodded opening the draws of the small kitchen counters “But I’ll have to warn you everything I cook ends up burnt” You had to laugh, a woman being a perfectionist at everything she did couldn’t cook? “Damn I wouldn’t have expected that” You piled up some of the wood in the fireplace before lighting it. 
As soon as the warmth filled the room your body relaxed in an instant. Natasha heated up some soup in the cans and handed it to you, its sight was cozy as you both sat in front of the fireplace, and your hormones filled brain suddenly thought that being mates with Natasha wouldn’t be that bad, right?
You woke up bathed in sweat in the middle of the night as you felt your heat creeping up. You felt the strong urge to nest, but with what? You piled up as many pillows and blankets as you could find. Thanked god that on a rare occasion Natasha wasn’t dressed in her suit instead her clothes were neatly folded on a chair. You even found your holy grail there, her hoody and it smelled so good.
You mind was blank as you cuddled in your pile fighting the urge to hump on of the pillows, you whimpered feeling the slick run down your legs as Natasha could smell you in her sleep. She grew restless, her urges fighting through as she woke up with a confused look on her face. 
“Y/N” She asked into the dark, only earning a whimper from your throat. Her curiosity got the better of her as she stood up from her bed feeling her dick harden in her boxers as she smelled your heat. “Need you alpha” you whined, your radical thinking being turned off by your need for the other woman. 
“Damn, can I help you?” She whispered and you nodded eagerly, you needed nothing more in this world than her knot. “Yes” You mewled, spreading your legs for her. In her haze she didn’t think twice before kissing you. You pulled her into your pile of blankets as she wasted no time on foreplay. 
She hastily pulled her boxers down to reveal her hard cock to you, she knew you were ready for her judging by the slick running down your flush thighs. “Please” You cried pulling her closer, she aligned herself with your tight hole groaning as she filled you up. Sure she had slept with other omegas but never while they were in heat. The tightness of your cunt was an addicting feeling as she let you adjust to her grid. “You feel so good” She sighed “You’re addicting” She mumbled her hips picking up as she started to fuck you. 
“Natasha!” You cried, scratching over her back which only made her thrusts harder. “More!” You demanded and to your surprise she complied. “You want to be breed?! You want my pups!?” She mocked already knowing your answer. “Yes!” 
Her dick thrusts against your g- spot, making you see stars as you came around her dick before she did. “Fuck I’m close; I’m gonna knot you” Her hips stilled as she filed you up with her knot, making you whimper like a bitch in heat. Her teeth sunk into your neck and she was sure that she felt a mating mark. She collapsed on top of  you, after having knotted you for the first time. 
The next morning she woke up with an arching head arch. She was confused after all they hadn’t had any drinks yesterday nor was she used to having hangovers. Her eyes widened as she looked down on you and the memories flooded back, she had mated you… . 
@jolyssereed
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reasonsforhope · 7 months ago
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I don't know who needs to hear this, but especially with the end of the school year coming up soon, and a bunch of people about to leave high school or about to leave college, I just wanted to say:
Being an adult can be really nice, actually!!!
Like, okay, yeah, life can be fucking stressful sometimes, and there's definitely an annoying amount of paperwork.
But me and just about every single adult I know will agree: I would never choose to go back to being a teenager, even if I somehow could.
Insert obvious disclaimer that nothing is universal. But for people worried about aging or graduating into the next chapter of life, here's some words of reassurance:
When you're a teenager, your brain is extra mean to you. Like, neurologically. All of the changes it's undergoing really, really increase rates of depression/anxiety/etc. A lot of the time, literally just not being a teenager anymore is really good for your mental health
Less than five months out of high school, everyone I knew my age was like "Thank fuck we're no longer in high school." Once you leave high school and adolescence there's really just such a dramatic drop in petty bullshit. Shit that would have been a huge social humiliation or gossip in high school is really often just like, "Hate that for you, man." Boom, done.
When you're a teenager or a brand new adult, you're encountering so many problems for the first time ever. When you're older, you just. Have learned how to handle a lot more things. You know what to do way more often and that builds confidence
When you're an adult, other people generally don't care if you don't do things perfectly, because jobs and life don't work like grades. This was such a trip to learn, honestly? But when you are an adult or have a job the bar for success is usually just "Did you do the thing?" or "Did you do the thing well enough that it works?" or "Did you show up to work for your whole shift and look like you were doing things?"
Similarly, if you're about to graduate college and you're really stressed about it, fyi just about everyone I knew in college ended up very quickly going "wow, 'real life' is way easier." Admittedly I went to a school full of very stressed out perfectionists and the like, so I can't promise this is universal, but there's a very real chance that life will in many ways get easier when you graduate
WAY MORE CONTROL OF YOUR OWN LIFE
Literally I cannot overstate that last point. As an adult, you are (barring certain disabilities or shitty circumstances like abusive family/the criminal justice system/etc.) able to make most of your own decisions. If you want to rearrange your furniture, you can. If you want to eat tater tots at midnight, you can. If you want to get yourself a little treat, you can. You can sign contracts and make your own legal and medical decisions and not need a parent or guardian signature for just about anything ever again
You generally learn how to give fewer fucks
The people around you have also generally learned how to give fewer fucks
Even when things are shitty, being able to choose what kind of shitty a lot of the time can really be worth an awful lot
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formulawolff · 5 months ago
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"you belong here" - s.v.
pairing: gf!reader x aston martin!sebastian vettel
word count: 1.5k
warnings: (slight) age gap relationship, a little bit of cursing here and there, seb being absolutely down bad for the reader, some (slight) angst, the general public being judgmental, (slight) slut shaming, the drivers being little shits (as always), yadayadayada
a/n: i am a perfectionist when it comes to writing personalities, mannerisms, cadences of words, etc. so if i happened to not do the best job with this fic, please be patient with me!!! this is my first time writing for seb!!! i am open to feedback!!! <3
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"okay, from the top. how many drivers are there?"
"twenty."
"nope!" he shakes his head, his lips curling into a smug smirk, "there are nineteen drivers. sorry love, but you were incorrect."
"sebastian," you scoff, rolling your eyes, "you needed to specify if you were included. because if you weren't included, there would be nineteen other drivers. if you were, there would be twenty."
"that's why it's called a trick question," his hand squeezes yours, "your hands are clammy, by the way."
"maybe because i'm nervous?" you counter, "this is my first time tagging along to a grand prix, you know."
"i know," he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing it tenderly, "i'm sorry for being a little pest."
"you're not a pest," your heart swells at the gesture, "i'm just anxious to meet everyone, that's all."
"oh they'll love you," confidence oozes out of his words, "i have no doubts about that."
sebastian vettel, four time world drivers' champion, was your boyfriend of the last year or so. the two of you met online, as you had slid into his dms on instagram after a very intoxicated evening out with friends.
since you had a love for formula one since you were a teenager, you admired drivers such as lewis hamilton, nico rosberg, daniel ricciardo, and well, sebastian.
you weren't quite sure where the love for the sport came from, but you could remember the sleepless nights you spent on youtube, eagerly clicking through racing highlights through various grand prixes. the sleepovers where your friends would be doing makeovers on you or painting your nails as you chattered about all of the driver drama and lore.
so, when you learned that mr. vettel was very single, and very open to the world of dating, you decided to shoot your shot. it took about six or seven drinks, but you mustered the courage to type out those fateful words.
i heard your single. we should change that.
shockingly, you received a response not too long after sending the message.
i believe it's *you're and not your. why should i take you up on your offer? you're a very beautiful woman but i need a little more information before i take you out on a date. ;)
from that message, the two of you chatted constantly, getting to know one another in-between shifts at your job, and his free time between races, press conferences, and training sessions.
eventually, he asked for your number, requesting a facetime call. you obliged, the two of you talking for hours upon hours that night. only a week or so later, he flew you out to his place in switzerland, requesting that you spend the weekend with him.
you did, falling for him the moment you met him in person. well, not like it was difficult by any means. with his charming aura and goofy persona, you felt comfortable almost immediately, letting your walls come crashing down.
nothing was too much or too out-of-pocket. you could make all of the vulgar jokes you wished, and he would laugh right along, only escalating the joke further. you could cry on his shoulder about anything, and he would happily rub your back, wiping away the tears that fell. he would hold you every night you slept together, not letting go until you wriggled away in the mornings.
and now, here you were, hand-in-hand as you entered the paddock. your heart skips a beat as your gaze falls on lance stroll, sebastian's fellow driver and teammate.
upon seeing you, his mouth curves into a bright smile, "look who it is!"
"i know you're not that excited to see me," sebastian pouts, "or did you really miss me that much?"
lance rolls his eyes at sebastian, sticking out his right hand, "good morning! i'm lance. i'm the other aston martin driver. well, you probably already know that."
"it's nice to meet you," you suppress a giggle, "i've heard a lot about you!"
"oh have you?" lance arches a brow, turning to sebastian, "have you been talking shit?"
"always pooks," sebastian chuckles, "not really. i just happen to talk a lot about racing. i'm sure she's tired of it by now."
"oh never," you flash sebastian a radiant grin, "i never get tired of all of the racing talk. i've loved formula one since i was about thirteen or so."
"that's awesome!" lance gushes, "you have yourself a keeper then, seb."
"i know i do," you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder, "should we go meet some fans? i promise they won't bite."
"fans?" you echo, a shiver running down your spine.
"well yeah," lance nods, "we have some time before we need to meet up with everyone. we usually chat with some fans, hand out some autographs. nothing too serious or glamorous."
"if you say so," you mumble, the words so quiet you were shocked you heard them.
it wasn't like you were dreading interacting with fans, it was just that you were a bit daunted by the idea.
ever since sebastian went public with you about a month ago, the reaction from the public was mixed. one half was adamant that you were too young for the driver, as there was an almost fifteen year age gap between the two of you. the plethora of negative comments that flooded the comment section of your instagram posts was almost too much to bear.
the other half, however, was very supportive, voicing that they "shipped" the two of you or that you were good for the driver. some comments even went as far to say that you were "a breath of fresh air", and that sebastian needed someone like you in his life.
yet, as the three of you stroll out of the paddock, you hoped for the latter. that the fans would be kind, welcoming you with open arms.
you could only dream, right?
"sebastian!"
"sebastian over here!"
voices flurry about, calling from all directions. everywhere all around, it was almost a sea of green, fans donning aston martin gear from head to toe. people of all ages flooded your field of vision, children hoisted on their parents shoulders to men and women in their seventies, maybe even their eighties.
"baby, can i see your purse?" his breath fans against your ear, snapping out of your trance.
"yeah," you nod, fumbling with your bag, "y-you need your sharpie, right?"
"hey," fingers find yours, intertwining them together, "it's just you and i. forget everyone else. just think about you and i."
"it's hard to-" you protest, yet you're swiftly cut off by a voice rising above the midst of the crowd.
"who invited the slut?"
sebastian's brows furrow, his eyes narrowing into slits, "what the fuck?"
more voices cut in, jeering.
"put her back in her crib! where she belongs!"
"you heard what i said! who invited that slut beside you?"
"goddamn," lance mutters under his breath, "what the fuck are they on right now?"
tears well up, threatening to spill over as you duck your head, lower lip trembling. sebastian senses your energy shift, wrapping a protective arm around your waist. he pulls you in close, pressing gentle kisses along your temple.
"come on, let's go back to the paddock. you don't deserve this."
lance flashes you a sympathetic glance before raising a hand, giving the crowd the finger, "whoever said that, this is for you!"
every aspect of the walk back is blurred as the tears fall. your lips are sealed tightly shut, suppressing the sobs rising in your chest.
you were barely here an hour and fans were already heckling you.
could you even last the weekend here?
did you even belong here?
"hey," his voice is soft, "come here."
blinking, you realize that he had taken you back to his motorhome, a private space for just the two of you. his arms are open, inviting you in. you nearly collapse into his chest, burying your head in it as he rubs your back.
"i'm so sorry."
"you don't have to be sorry," you shrug, swallowing the lump in your throat, "they're right. i don't belong here."
"stop that," fingers grasp your chin, tilting your head up, "you do belong here. you belong here just as much as anyone else does. i need you here."
"you promise?"
"i promise baby," sebastian tucks a few wisps of hair behind your ear, "you're irreplaceable. who cares what they think? just focus on me. it's just you and i this weekend, okay?"
"okay," you nod, sniffling slightly.
"you know what i think?" he leans in, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.
"what?" you inquire, the tears dissipating as he brings you in closer.
"they're just jealous that i have the most breathtaking, stunning, kindest, funniest girlfriend in the whole wide world. and no one, i mean no one, can take that away from me. you're mine baby. and nothing is ever going to change that."
you find yourself nearly crumbling into his chest once again, "you mean that?"
"of course i do. now, let's go try this again. if anyone is rude or hateful, i'll just spit on them, okay?"
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cup-o-stars · 3 months ago
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How to draw like you no borax
Good question!
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I'd warn against following my process (at least if you want to learn), but I'll be honest and show you, lol. (Heads up: this is just how I do FAN art. When having fun, I generally care less about the fundamentals.)
1. I slap down super rough sketches, jotting lines/expressions like bullet points of my idea. Pretty much stick figures with just enough detail to remember who's who later. Not shown here, I also move, resize, and add details to express the intended composition if I'm planning something larger. You may notice a lot of curved lines / haphazard circles.
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2. I refine the sketch by drawing it with more intention and build structure with slightly blockier shapes. If I'm really struggling with a pose, this is also where I'll find references or look at myself for bits and pieces to fill in the gaps. (When practicing, I would highly recommend using a reference from the start so all your limbs are an appropriate length and you don't need to say things like "that's passable" right before posting. If you're a perfectionist you'll leave that thought with the rough sketch.)
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3. I'll decide around here whether or not to leave the sketch as is or commit to lineart (not likely). I guess I'd say I "shape the lines" here by going over some to add thickness/weight, and by adding basic sort-of-shading to break things up a little. Then I'll just fill in space if the page looks empty. (Usually this is where I incorporate the borax, but I hear baking soda works nicely if you're worried.)
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4. Onto coloring. I don't feel confident enough to pretend I know what I'm doing here, lol. I just choose my base colors, imagine the general direction of the light source, then add minor gradients to the light and dark layers so they don't look flat. Then I just add some BS highlights and outline them. I've only recently found the motivation to properly practice coloring and just go with the flow tbh.
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You may notice that Nami's forearm is too long, her hand looks like a pancake and Chopper has no joints! My kind sibling explained to me once that my anatomy is poor, but cohesive enough that nothing stands out too bad, lol. That's why it is important to use references!! And if you're me, practice all parts of anatomy at the same time with full bodies so that even when you're at a loss, your hands aren't that much better than your feet.
All in all, to draw like me, just have a very hedonistic approach to art, ha. Draw what you want, avoid getting burnt out on any single piece (sometimes that happens when you try to perfect drawings one at a time), and follow my personal motto:
Make fun, not masterpieces.
Idk how helpful this was, but there you have it!
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zzencat · 6 months ago
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Why Do I Still Feel Unsatisfied? - Timeless Reading (for anyone)
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When things are content and slow, going normally as one would expect, you still feel like there’s something not quite right—something missing. Now what? Are you supposed to be happy? You have everything you need…what is there to complain about? Why is life so stale? So boring? Am I doing enough in my life? What is this stagnant energy?
Note: Social media may have an influence on these feelings.
- Remember: clear your mind. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, fill up your chest to the fullest, feel the air brush against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. Choose the photo that you can’t take your eyes off of.
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Pile 1. To Speed Up or To Slow Down.
You might be in denial. You try to think that you’re okay and you’re doing well enough—you have everything you need to survive, so what’s the matter with you? What’s the hold up? Are you going out on the weekends to the same places? Maybe repeating the same old routine, with or without friends? Perhaps you’re staying home and indulging in the same habits every weekend. Why are you just lounging around in the kitchen or living room with an oversized shirt and running your hands through your hair, wondering what to do now that you have time? It’s getting boring and you need some spice to your life.
Try looking into a hobby that you had interest in during childhood. Maybe you were shunned for having a such an interest. Do you do a lot of online shopping? Have you ever wanted to start your own business or clothing line? Honestly, to me it feels like you’re financially stable or on your way there and you know you will be. But it feels passionless. Maybe you had passion in the beginning and it died out. The excitement wasn’t there anymore, or maybe you had to be in this profession because you had to. To impress parents, guardians, the people around you. I feel like this group could do well with a side hustle or multiple. You seem like well-adaptable people so you could deal with the uncertainty and unpredictability. You also seem very friendly, like a team player type of person. You do what your told, and have small moments where you count as “rebellious.” Perfectionistic. My mind keeps going back to this…maybe you want to open up your own online shop? Or clothing/beauty brand or business? You might struggle when things get too quiet at a hangout with your friends or other people, maybe feeling pressured to say something or lighten the mood. For some reason, it’s always your responsibility to do something. Who put that on you? Where did you learn that from? That you should take charge and try to do something or else it’s your fault? Why do you feel inclined to do that? These would be good questions to think about.
The Challenge For You: Pick up a hobby and perfect it. It helps to record yourself working on this hobby, mistakes and all, and post it somewhere where people can see. Closest friends, family, or complete strangers. The reaction will make your more relatable and you’ll gain a lot of support. I’m seeing a soft smile and a genuine pat (“you’re doing good! you got this!” vibe) from your friends or people online. For example, “Day 1 of playing the violin” or “Day 30 of frisbee throwing”. This group seems to be heavily reliant on validation, internal or external. You need people to be there to see when you’re doing well, and people shouldn’t see your mistakes and if they do, you’ll try to move on while beating yourself up in your head. Very perfectionistic and while this helps you in your career or professional life, you should allow yourself to make mistakes, laugh about it, and be more soft towards yourself. Perhaps you got shamed for making a bunch of mistakes when you were younger, taught that mistakes aren’t okay and that you should be perfect, but all the energy here—from my spirit team to yours—is telling you that it’s okay to not get it the first time. Humans are meant to adapt and grow. There’s no fun in getting something the first time around. It’d be beginner’s luck. It’s about the journey and what you put into it that will add tremendously to your charm. It makes you human and it makes you, you. So learn to forgive yourself and build up that confidence.
Points of Interest: xxfj vibes, but mainly isfj/infj, nurse, libra, middle person/mediator, trying to get out there more, lowkey don’t want to socialize all the time but is forced to (whatever this may mean to you, take it), needing validation from others bc your own doesn’t count, suppression, “busy is good”, inner loneliness, void in heart, helping others but not yourself, “was it always this quiet or was i just used to the noise?”, slow down, hustle culture, “this is what I should be doing” (very vague, could mean different things…but this definitely applies to people in this pile), people pleaser…messy hair, in a rush, busy, busy, busy…“Damn it- why isn’t this thing working?!”, coffee, too much coffee, “dude, are you okay?”, stress, “living life in the fast lane as they say…” (for some reason, maria by justin bieber came up- we got any beliebers in here?), social media, parents, boss, workplace, Jane(?), idk why the black mirror episode called “joan is awful”, “I’ll take what I can get”, don’t want to burden other people, fear of humiliation, standards on other people are not as high as the standard you put on yourself, anxious, always moving, check, check, check…restless energy, “it’s on me”, responsibility…
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Pile 2. “I guess…” is not an answer.
This pile floats between pile 1 and 3 but leaning towards 1. The people in this group could share many of the same doubts and feelings as pile 1. But I will say, if you felt drawn to all or any of the other two alongside this one, I suggest you reading those as well. This gives me very infp vibes. Shy but likes to/would like to dress up a bit more, follow the fashion culture, find your own style. There’s a bit of a childlike nature to this group and I’m not sure what it is. Like maybe a financial insecurity or you want to date someone really badly. Like a person who watches a bunch of kdrama’s but never goes outside OR you do go outside and you don’t have the balls to ask someone out. I’m getting couch potato but a cute one. Curled up in a blanket and binge watching in bed. Watching other people chase their dreams and goals while you’re still wondering what yours are. Do you binge-watch a lot of shows or movies? I feel confused reading this pile, as if I’m supposed to be looking for something but I’m either not mature enough or I just don’t know what to look for. Probably struggles with parasocial-ness. Very online, maybe chronically online, if I might add. Maybe you’ve never gone out on a date before. If you did, you’d be super awkward, say something dumb on accident, giggle too much, or just full on shy, laughing a lot, red faced. Do you struggle with a lot of anxiety? A lot of daydreaming or fantasizing. If your friends ask you to go out with them, you either say yes immediately or you make up an excuse of why you can’t go just to lounge at home. But I feel frustrated. I don’t know where to look. Maybe you prefer to rock out with your headphones, blast music, and have a dance party in your room by yourself. Timid. Can be sassy at times. Probably dramatic. Do you still live with your parents, by any chance? I’m getting middle class to lower upper class, maybe even upper (but a lot less so.) Kind of spoiled energy. Maybe people have done things for you your whole life or have chosen the path for you to be on already. Maybe they’ve made decisions for you your whole life.
The Challenge For You: Go outside more and be more observant of people, especially if you think you struggle with social ineptness. If you’re timid, maybe your voice is too quiet that it draws people’s attention or you’re so anxious that you do something loud or reckless that captures attention. Do you have an interest in something that you could capitalize on? Like something in the arts? Maybe you can sell art online, draw for people, get yourself out there without engaging in fights online—it’s not worth your time, I promise. Put your phone down and read a book. Find something you like outside your phone or on any of your devices. This group seems constantly overstimulated with devices that you can never just sit and stare at the wall for a minute. It would help for you to think about the future for a little bit, even if it overwhelms you. If you’re in high school, get a part time job or do research on something you like. Practice gratitude and acknowledge the things that you have that others don’t. There’s a lot of immaturity, emotionally as well, in this pile, like you haven’t figured yourself out yet and you’re just waiting for things to fall into place. If I had to sum this up, it would be to pursue something that you can’t let go of and don’t let other people decide for you. Be more assertive and work on leadership skills. Work on time management as well. Laziness could also be an issue. Find yourself.
Points of Interest: infp vibes, dreamy, pursed lips, fidgeting, immaturity, “maybe if I dress normal, I’ll look normal”, dresses in all black, oversized shirts, beanies(?), don’t bring attention to me, small handwriting or circular letters, pink lead pencil, makes hearts on your “i’s”, secret romantic, easily jumps to conclusions, expectations, “daddy bought it for me”, be more thankful, ambition where?, do something you love and make a job out of it, oversleeping, “i don’t wanna think about it”, impulsivity, anxiousness, effort, purpose, going with the flow…
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Pile 3. “Let’s get this over with.”
Feeling very much a laaaarge lack of energy here. Very drained pile—emotionally, physically, mentally, some or all. Sometimes you feel it’s tiring to keep smiling, like you have to force it to seem okay. You’re in need for some warmth in your life, maybe some hugs or people telling you they’ll be there for you (and mean it), but you may or may not express this need to people; I’m mostly feeling that you keep to yourself a lot, not wanting to burden people. Very introverted energy, like “I’m just here” energy. If you go out, you don’t talk a lot or you need a drink/substance to help you loosen up and talk/act. Are you always tired? Staying up late and staring at a screen, or struggling with insomnia? Or it’s the opposite and you sleep too much—the whole day. Lethargic energy. There’s not much to say about this pile because I think you already know what to do, you just struggle. This could be a health issue or concern that you’re not taking seriously. Are you taking vitamins? I’m getting a zombie or very sedated state. Skin losing color and dark eye bags or under eye circles. Could struggle with depression. You don’t want to be forgotten but you want to be alone. You’re okay with solitude. Maybe you struggle with motivation in general, or motivation to take care of yourself, again, health is coming up—other people could be concerned about you and they tell you or they don’t. I would take a closer look regarding your friend group and maybe reconsider who you’re letting in your world. They could be impacting you for worse. You could be good at photography or have an interest in it. Half-assing most projects or assignments. You probably answer texts late, never answer, or give really short responses. I’m getting the sense that you really just want to exist without judgment or being perceived. Like living like a ghost and move through life seamlessly. You could have a knack for pc games or computer science. Either way, take a shower. You might feel cold often or experience coldness easier than your friends.
The Challenge For You: Join clubs where you know no one. Go alone and make it a secret space for yourself and go for at least 8 months. You’ll find that it can be therapeutic. Yoga classes with old ass ladies can help since they’re just focused on stretching. Find some friends that are ambitious but unmovable, like good leaders. They could influence you to take better care of yourself. Next, find friends that actually care about you and your health, not the “do whatever you want; it’s your life” type of friends. You should visit a sauna some time or go on vacation to a warm-hot country. You could even move there and you would be even slightly happier than now. I would encourage you to seek therapy—with a GOOD therapist. Either you haven’t had the interest or time or you haven’t had a good experience with therapy at all—do not give up. Maybe a counselor at school works. If not, move onto the next option. Confide in better friends, friends that can physically help you get up and move out of your slump, not ones that encourage/enable the bad habits. It’s time to turn your life around pile 3—I seriously think that I don’t need to be telling you these things cuz you already know. You’re definitely not dumb- you just lack motivation. Talk to someone about it or find friends that force you to change your life for the better, the ones that drag you out to go to the park with them. Get out of your comfort zone and start moving. Get that blood moving around your body—someone needs to force you to run, but after a shake rich in protein.
Points of Interest: headphones (maybe AirPod max), cozying up in the corner where people can’t see you, smoking, grey skies, crows, photography, good camera, still camera, cold hands, bitten nails, blue fingers, shrugs, poor blood circulation, pale skin, eating issues (eating too little or too much), needing dopamine and finding easy ways to get it, “i don’t care”, still lack of motivation, sunshine, grumpiness, unchanged sheets, old white tank top (for some reason), your room could use some cleaning, exercise…
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That is all!! I hope you have enjoyed. Feedback is heavily appreciated and I would love to see what pile you chose in your reblogs! As a new reader, I’d like to get as accurate as possible when it comes to picking up energy and doing these readings for you. Remember to take what resonates, leave what doesn’t! Let me know what was accurate for you :) Thank you for coming to my Teddytalk today. (sorry it’s a lame joke ik jsfkdjs)
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freedomfireflies · 2 years ago
Text
Teach Me*
Summary: Harry needs a little practice in the art of Eating Pussy, and who better to ask for help than his best friend?
You.
Word Count: 5.4k
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“...I’m sorry, you need to what?”
“I need…” Harry repeats, “...to eat you out.”
You blink at the man standing alarmingly still in the hallway outside of your door. “Is it crack? Is that what you smoke? Do you smoke crack?”
He smirks at the familiar joke before he’s brushing past you and striding into your apartment. “All right, fine. I just thought I’d ask.”
“Ask what?” you huff as you shut the door and face him. “I still don’t understand what it is you want.”
“I want to eat you out,” he says yet again as your expression falls flat. “Look I need…the practice.”
“Practice…”
“Practice.” He nods before flopping down onto the sofa. “You remember Tina, right?”
“Tall, hot, and out of your league?” you recall as you walk over to him. “Yes, I remember.”
He fights a smile. “Yeah, well…she agreed to let me take her out and I just…I want to make sure I’m prepared.”
“...prepared.”
“Prepared.” His eyes follow you as you take a seat beside him. “Come on, you know I don’t have a lot of experience with that shit, and I want to make sure I’m…you know, at least capable of making her come. And I have no other way to get…better.”
“Oh, so, naturally I’m your second-best option,” you snort playfully as you pull your knees to your chest. “But how would eating me out help you make her come? Not all girls like the same stuff, you know. Lesson number one.”
“Because I need someone to help me make my technique a little…smoother, I guess. Tell me what feels good and what doesn’t so I know,” he explains, without a hint of embarrassment, and truthfully, you’re a little impressed.
Harry has always been…bold, you would say. Assertive, confident, borderline egotistical. He��s never had a problem making friends or getting a girlfriend, so learning that his sexual experience didn’t expand as far as you thought it did was kind of a surprise.
You do admire him for wanting to be good for her. In fact, the thought is almost sweet, although you have no idea where he got the idea to ask you.
Sure, you’re his best friend, but…that’s kind of fucking…weird. Right? You guys don’t do that. You don’t even like to hug.
You run your tongue over your bottom lip and look for the deception within his expression. He could be messing with you. It wouldn’t be the first time and you certainly wouldn’t put it past him.
But there’s something…earnest in the way he speaks. In the way his eyes hold onto yours as he awaits your response, hopeful and desperate.
“So…wait, hold on.” You clear your throat and straighten up. “You…you honestly want…to eat me out…just to see if I like it?”
“Kind of, yeah,” he agrees as one shoulder bobs up in a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve got a few ideas on what to do, I just…I need someone—I need you—to tell me if it feels good or not. So I can practice and make sure she’ll like it.”
Your teeth begin to absentmindedly knaw on the inside of your cheek. Truthfully, you have no idea how to feel about this. The request is outrageous and weird and it goes way past the duties of friendship.
But you’ve known him forever and you trust him and honestly? You feel a little bad for the guy.
Sure, the best way for him to get the practice he needs would be with her, but you know him. He doesn’t like to admit he doesn’t know something and he absolutely despises feeling unprepared. 
He’s a perfectionist.
And you are a little flattered that he feels safe enough with you to showcase his inexperience and that thought alone begins to wash your reservations away.
“So…all I’d have to do is just…sit here? And tell you yes or no?” you clarify, and he nods.
“Yeah. I won’t make you come, don’t worry. I know that’s…going a little farther than we need,” he says. “I just…wanna play with you a little.”
You smirk. “Wouldn’t not making me come defeat the purpose?”
He exhales a laugh as he leans back. “I just want to make sure I can. Besides, doesn’t it open up a bunch of emotions and shit? It attaches you to the person? I mean, do you really wanna live with the knowledge that you came because of me?”
“...no,” you admit. “Okay, that’s fair. So…if I agree…you’re not gonna drag this out, right? Just to annoy me?”
He chuckles again. “Well, I wanna make sure I’m doing it right…but no, I won’t drag it past that. I’ll stop whenever you want.”
Your fingers pull at a loose strand on your jeans. You aren’t seriously considering this, are you? “And if I say yes…how would we…I mean, what would we do?”
He thinks about this for only a moment, suggesting that he already came with a plan. Typical. “I guess we go somewhere you feel comfortable…we start slow. You tell me what you’re okay with, what you’re not okay with…and then I’ll just…get started.”
You look at him. Really look at him. He’s relaxed. Almost too relaxed considering the line he’s suggesting you both cross. A line you can never uncross.
And as you stare at those familiar features you’ve known for years…you feel your body exhale a deep breath. You’re doubtful, sure…but he’s always been rather exceptional at providing you comfort, just through a look alone.
Exactly like he is now.
His mouth quirks up in a smirk as he bumps his knuckles against your knee teasingly. “We don’t have to, Bee. I just…thought I’d ask.”
You roll your lips into your mouth as you hesitate, the familiar nickname calming you ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t…I’m not saying no, I just…I don’t know. It’s weird.”
“I know,” he agrees with a nod. “Look, just…forget I said anything. I’ll Google it, it’s fine. Let’s just watch Schitt’s Creek or something, yeah?”
With that, he turns toward the TV, grabs the remote, and begins to flip through the channels, leaving the conversation behind.
But you aren’t as quick to let the idea go. After all, he planted the seed, and now you’re starting to wonder. You’re starting to…accept.
Maybe things will be weird. And maybe you won’t be able to go back to how you used to be. But at least you’ll have helped him…? And that’s…something that friends do.
…right?
“I have never heard someone say so many wrong things…one after the other…consecutively…in a row,” David says to your right as Harry smiles and glances over to see if you’re listening.
But you’re not.
At least, not to David.
“Okay,” you murmur, quiet enough that it becomes lost beneath the next line on the show.
Harry, confused, raises a brow and begins to lower the volume. “Sorry, what?”
“Okay,” you repeat, a little more confidently than you had before. “Okay, I agree to your proposal. Just this once.”
He blinks. “Wait, seriously?”
“Seriously.” You nod. “What? Don’t look at me like that, I’m charitable. And cool, and a really good friend. So…don’t forget that the next time I ask you to buy the popcorn at the movie.”
His eyes roll but he laughs as he tosses the remote aside. “All right, that’s fair. Deal.”
You both go quiet.
Funny…for some reason, you thought agreeing would be all there was to it.
His eyes soften as he looks you over. “So…you’re in charge, okay? You just…tell me where you wanna go, what you’re comfortable with…whatever you want, yeah?”
You nod faintly before glancing toward your room. “Um…I guess we can do it on the bed. There’s probably more room, so it would be a little easier…I guess.”
He nods, too, before slowly moving for the edge of the couch. But he doesn’t stand until you do, eyeing you closely as if gauging your reaction.
You aren’t sure why you feel so…timid. You’re not exactly nervous, maybe just…apprehensive. But, it’s Harry, and he will always be the boy that got a blueberry stuck up his nose and snorted purple snot to you.
And it can’t get more embarrassing than that. 
He follows you into the bedroom. The same bedroom he’s seen a million times, although now, it’s like a completely different space.
With an awkward clear of your throat, you take a seat on the corner of the mattress, head tilting back as you look up at him expectantly. “Uh…now what?”
“You tell me,” he says softly, hands finding refuge in his pockets. “Where do you wanna be? Against the pillows? Might be more comfortable.”
You glance over your shoulder at the headboard. “Yeah, I guess that’s…a good idea.”
He smiles again, stepping back to allow you the room to crawl back. 
Once you’re in position and settled, he takes your spot on the edge of the bed. “Still good?”
You nod, arms resting atop your stomach, almost as if to hide yourself. “Yup.”
“Do you wanna pick a safeword?”
Your brows raise. “I mean…I think ‘stop’ will do just fine.”
He snorts his amusement. “Fair.”
Again, you both grow quiet, and you wish you could find your nerve. In the many years you two have known each other, not once have you ever been this shy. Or quiet. In fact, you don’t believe there’s ever been a second of silence between you, and you have no idea what to do with it.
He straightens up, taking the reins when he notices you don’t plan to. “Do you have your phone?”
Confused, you reach into your pocket and wiggle the cell phone free.
He nods. “Okay, I want you to pull up your favorite porn.”
Your lips part as you blink. “...I’m sorry, what now?”
"Well, I’m willing to bet you’re not exactly turned on right now, right?” he explains, nodding his chin at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “And I’m just thinking that might be a little harder to work with. For both of us.”
Unfortunately, he’s right. You’re about as dry as the Sahara desert, so you admit defeat and swipe up on your screen.
Now, while you and him have both exchanged some of your favorite videos before, pulling up one now…in front of him…feels like a whole new ballgame.
You quickly readjust the volume before looking for the ones you know normally do the trick, refusing to sneak a glance at the man now scooting a bit closer to you. 
But you do hear him smile. “Find it?”
Your eyes land on the familiar thumbnail you’ve seen a hundred times before as you whisper, “Yeah.”
“Good,” he hums, hands coming to rest near your outstretched legs. “Can I take your jeans off? Just your jeans.”
You peek out from around the screen of your phone, catching the curious but hopeful look on his face. “...sure.”
He nods his understanding before shifting closer so he can reach for your zipper to guide it down.
You debate watching him but choose instead to click play on the video and force your attention elsewhere. Maybe this will go smoother if you just…don’t look at him. 
Ever.
You feel the air hit your legs as his fingers curl around the fabric at your hips to pull it down. He’s deliberate, making sure he doesn’t accidentally graze something he’s not supposed to (ironically enough), but you appreciate the gesture. 
He gently tugs the material down to your ankles before effortlessly tossing it aside, and you feel yourself swallow.
This isn’t your first time, so you thought you’d know what to expect. But you don’t know what to expect from him. He seems to have a plan (thank God), and you catch the way he eyes your underwear before he glances up at you.
“Ready?” he murmurs, the cadence of his voice rather reassuring. “I’ll just play with you a bit for now, yeah?”
Again, you swallow thickly, forcing the nerves aside. “Yeah, go.”
And from that point on, you decide to proceed with a more clinical mindset. This is practice, exactly like he said. It doesn’t mean anything to either of you, and once it’s over, you doubt you’ll ever mention it again.
It’s just practice.
A cunt is a cunt, a tongue is a tongue, a hand is a hand. Doesn’t matter who they belong to. Pleasure is pleasure, and that’s all there is to it.
You return your attention to your phone as the bed dips, signaling that he’s getting himself into position. You wonder what he means when he says he wants to play with you, and you also wonder if he’ll actually be any good.
But before you can worry that you’ll have to tell him that he’s terrible…he touches you.
You feel his palm, gently smoothing up your right leg, slowly but with purpose. Your breath hitches as you blink at the images flashing across the screen in front of you. You have no idea if you’ll be able to get out of your own head long enough to feel turned on, but you don’t worry about it quite yet.
Then…you feel his thumb.
Your entire body goes still as the pad of his finger brushes down the front of your underwear, right over your clit. There’s just enough pressure to capture your attention but not so much that it feels uncomfortable.
Your chest deflates with a deep breath as you begin to move your focus from the porn to him.
He does it again, a little harder this time around. It’s teasing, almost. Exactly like he said it would be. He’s simply playing with your body and seeing how it reacts. And every time you twitch or your legs begin to tense, you hear him smile, as if making a mental note of it.
For a few minutes, this is all he does. He runs his fingers up and down the fabric in slow but teasing patterns, pressing and sometimes circling as you feel an ache begin to form.
The sounds coming from your phone are successful in urging your body to bend to such salacious intentions. You can feel your muscles unwind as your mind begins to release those doubtful premonitions.
With a flutter of your lashes, you move your phone to the side so you can get a glimpse of the boy between your legs.
He doesn’t seem to notice. Either that or he pretends not to. And for a moment, you aren’t sure what to make of the sight before you. Harry, your best friend, in a staring contest with your cunt and you want to be put off…but you’re not. 
“How’s that?” he murmurs after a moment, his other hand softly stroking the skin of your thigh as he pulls your legs further apart.
Your voice betrays you as you breathe, “Good.”
He looks up. Smiles. “Noted.”
He does it some more, thumbing over your clit before pressing into it and guiding it in a circle. You squirm each time, the faintest of whimpers getting stuck in the back of your throat. 
He seems proud, and you almost want to be annoyed, but you just don’t have the mental capacity to be in this moment.
Maybe when it’s over.
And then, he does something you hadn’t expected.
He dips down…and presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh. Not too close but not too far, and as he does, his eyes find yours.
Shit. “Okay, I’m ready,” you whisper quickly, hips subtly bucking up. “I’m…I think I’m good now.”
His brow raises as he drops his hand and you have to fight the urge to whine. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” You chew on your bottom lip. “I mean, if you are.”
“I am,” he says, glancing back down at your waist. “Yeah, I am.”
So you nod, and anxiously await his next move.
He reaches again for your body, and you want to sigh with relief as he slips his fingers under the band of your underwear to peel it down. 
The cool air is rather chilling and it’s then that you’re made aware of the mess already forming between your thighs. You knew you’d begun to enjoy yourself but you’re surprised by just how much. 
Whether that was because of him or because of the video…you don’t exactly know.
Once the lace has been flicked to the side, he readjusts onto his knees and formulates a plan.
He makes you wait. Watch. Watch as he once again takes your legs in his hands to guide them apart and settle between them.
Watch as he outstretches his palm so he can run it along your hip before moving lower.
Watch as he takes his thumb and brings it back to your clit which is now exposed to his skin.
And the contact is sinful. You’re worked up enough that the immediate connection makes your head drop back, and while you’d like to be embarrassed…you just don’t care.
He drags it down. Down. Presses, rubs, and dips into the wetness that waits for him.
He’s concentrated, and the look on his face is rather adorable. He’s learning. Studying. Observing each and every reaction you offer him as he continues to tease you.
Once in a while, he’ll venture a glance up, perhaps for approval, and you’ll nod quickly. Then, he’ll return to the task at hand as he looks for new ways to make you gasp.
He slides the tip of his finger in without warning and when you whimper, he stills and raises his brow.
You can tell he was aiming for the element of surprise, choosing not to warn you in order to receive this very response, but he’s not sure if that was a sound of approval or unease, so you rush to clarify.
“No, it’s fine,” you mumble. “It’s fine, it’s good.”
“Are you su—”
“Yes, it’s good. Go.”
Encouraged, he pushes in. He’s still wary of your enjoyment but he seems to focus more on the movement of his hand than your expressions. And that’s all right with you. You’re happy to simply sit and…judge. Which is what he’s asked you to do, and you plan to uphold your end of the deal.
He stops when he’s reached his knuckle, finger curling slightly before he’s gently pulling back. He repeats the action a time or two more and the fullness that accompanies the stretch is quite enjoyable.
Your eyes move to the ceiling as you fight the urge to watch him. You’re not that comfortable yet and perhaps watching him would ruin the fun. So, for now, you stare at the white paint above you as he begins to pump his hand a bit faster.
When he adds a second finger, you gasp, and he uses this as leverage to expand his search.
And you know exactly what he’s looking for, the crease between his brows indicative of his captivation.
But just when you’re getting ready to offer some help, he drives in and curls up until the tips of his fingers brush against that particular point of ecstasy.
You inhale a sharp breath and writhe away, faintly panting, “Shit…that.”
Intrigued, he perks up, although he doesn’t relax his pace. “That?”
He does it again and your eyes squeeze shut. “Yeah…yeah, it’s…mhm.”
A smile dances across his lips as he scoots a little closer to watch his own hand as he repeats the action.
You begin to slump down the mattress, limbs turning to jello as he guides your body up toward that familiar ledge, and you hear him hum his approval.
“Good,” he murmurs, you assume in an attempt to soothe you. “Very good, m’proud of you. Seem to be doing really well.”
You stumble over a scoff. “Yeah, well…so are you.”
The grin grows. “Still doing okay?”
“Yes,” you whisper when his thumb ghosts over your clit. “Yeah, I…fuck. I’m…is this all you’re gonna do…then? I thought…I thought you wanted…to…with…the other…”
Nothing that comes out of your mouth is coherent but he seems to understand. “Yeah, I just wasn’t sure if you were ready.”
“I am,” you correct quickly. “I’m…yeah, I’m fine. You can…you’re good. Just do it.”
He dips his head down but doesn’t quite connect as he continues to watch you carefully. “Bee?”
“...wha—shit—what?”
“Thank you.”
Your eyes roll playfully, although perhaps that’s just from the pleasure. “Yeah, yeah, I’m…I’m a fucking saint. Just…fucking do it, okay?”
So…he does.
Those lips you used to stare at move down to your clit and he brushes his mouth over your body for just a moment before you see his tongue.
He takes a moment to decide exactly what he wants to do before he’s pressing that tongue into you and dragging it up from his hand.
You’re so wound up that it doesn’t take much more for you to arch off the bed in search of that feeling. He’s hardly done anything but your head is rolling back across the pillow as your fingers dig into the blanket beneath you.
He nips at you gently, continuing to pump your arousal in and out as it coats his hand, and your mind instantly falls completely blank.
The sounds…god, the sounds. The sound of you, the sound of him, the sound of your body falling apart beneath him.
He’s good. He’s very good, and you almost wonder if he was lying about his inexperience. There’s no way he learned this from porn…at least, you can’t see how. But, he is a perfectionist. Maybe it just comes naturally to him.
“Awfully quiet up there,” you hear him say, and the vibration of the deep tone of voice sparks a chill down your spine. “That bad?”
No! you want to scream but you simply shake your head. “It’s…it’s good. You’re…this is great. This is all…you know…standard…good…stuff.”
When he smiles, your cheeks grow hot. “Guess I have a good teacher.”
“Please,” you huff, pressing your palm to your forehead. “You always—god, always know what you’re doing. I had nothing to do with it.”
He shrugs as his eyes flick across the mess in front of him. “Had more to do with it than you think.”
He dives back in, licking a stripe up before driving his fingers in further. And there’s so much happening. So much that it makes you crazy. There’s him, and there’s you, and there’s that reminder of need that continues to grow. You can’t focus in on any one thing, and honestly...you’re okay with that. 
When he sucks you into his mouth, you have to fight the urge to grab onto him, twisting the duvet around your knuckles as you reel. 
“Don’t,” he mumbles, and you work to figure out what he’s referring to. Did you do something wrong? “Don’t grab the blanket. Grab me.”
You blink down at him. “I’m…no, it’s fine. I was just—”
“Bee, I’m not asking,” he interrupts, rather resolutely. “You wanna do it, so do it. Promise, I don’t mind.”
You certainly aren’t a stranger to this more…authoritative side of him. Although now, you might even…like it? At least, in this context.
“Come on,” he repeats, pulling back only to shoot you a stern look. “She will. And it’ll show me what you like. Don’t be a pussy, just do it. You won’t hurt me.”
And you almost want to fight him, but he’s right, and you can’t argue that. 
So, the moment he returns to his focused work, you reach for those chocolate brown curls and give them a nice tug.
He makes a noise of approval that nearly kills you, lapping at your folds like he’s depraved and you’re his only remedy.
Tina is gonna love it.
He finds a certain rhythm that you respond to well and zeros in. His cheeks hollow every time he sucks on you only to quickly pop off as he presses his tongue beside his fingers. 
Your nails scratch down his scalp and he seems to like it, his other hand grasping onto your thigh so hard you imagine it’ll bruise.
And for just a moment, you actually don’t mind. You concede to the satisfaction he’s offering and you indulge in it. You find gratification in the fact that you accepted and you even decide that maybe…this was a good idea.
“Are you close?” he asks once your whimpers scale up an octave.
You nod quickly. “Yes…yeah, I’m…yeah.”
“Good,” he muses proudly before he’s suddenly removing his hand from your body and pulling away.
You nearly disappear through the mattress as you choke on a dejected whine and look down at him. “What…what happened?”
He breathes out a laugh as he settles onto his knees. “Nothing, I’m just keeping my word.”
His word.
Right.
“You…oh,” you whisper, fighting your disappointment. “Yeah. Well…that was…you did good. That was all…you know, very well done. She’ll like it, you’ll be fine.”
He seems pleased with your approval before his eyes begin to narrow in thought. He watches you haphazardly reach for a throw blanket to cover yourself, but just as you’re getting ready to toss it over your legs, he snatches onto your wrist.
You both still as he studies you. “Bee?”
“...what?”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. “If there’s something you want to ask me…then ask me.”
You blink. “What…what do you mean?”
With his hold still on your arm, he leans closer. “Bee…we agreed, yeah? M’trying to be a good student, but I can’t be if you don’t tell me what you want.”
Your breath hitches the closer he gets. “Har, I don’t know what you’re—”
“Do you wanna come?”
Well…shit. “I…” You begin to shift nervously under his pointed stare. “I was just…”
His expression softens although there’s a hint of smugness swimming behind his smile. “Do you want me…to make you come?” he clarifies as your stomach twists into a knot.
Feigning exasperation, you huff a stray hair from your eye. “Well, what do you think? Obviously nobody likes being edged.”
He’s amused as he begins to lower back down, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. “Then what do you need to do?”
You huff again, shooting a quick glare his way as you watch him drop his gaze to your sensitive cunt. “Harry…come on.”
He clicks his tongue and cocks his head. “Nope, that’s not it.”
You open your mouth, a quippy remark locked and loaded, but right before you can use it…he puckers his lips and blows on your clit.
Your muscles recoil and your throat seems to close up as you pull against his hold. “You fucking asshole, you did that on purpose.”
“Obviously.” He tosses you a wink. “You wanna try again?”
No, I wanna kill you, you think but don’t say. “Harry…please.”
You briefly notice the way his eyelashes flutter at the sound of his name but he doesn’t comment on it. “Please what?”
“Harry—”
“Come on, Bee, you can do it.”
“I just…I…this isn’t…”
“Almost there, that’s it. Be a good girl and ask me.”
Oh, that sadistic fucker. You’d berate him for such a nickname if it didn’t turn you on so goddamn much, especially with the state you're in. You might even wanna hear it again and truth be told, the thought blows your mind.
You swallow a shaky breath. “Harry?”
“Yes?”
“...please make me come.”
A wide smile bursts across his face. “Attagirl.”
And with that…he continues.
You’re thrust back up the precipice of pleasure as he slips three fingers into your aching, dripping cunt. 
And it’s purposeful and practiced and he’s such a liar because he knows exactly what he’s doing, at least to you, and you want to smack him.
But you also want to grab onto his hair and his arm and every inch of his body and never let go because he’s so good for making you feel this way. The best friend you could ever have and why on Earth didn’t you guys try this earlier?
Each curl, each twist, each push in. You feel so full and he feels so good and it’s only his hand and then suddenly…it’s his mouth, too.
And the moment he presses his tongue against you, you lose it. You roll your hips against his face, and lift your back from the bed, and drop your mouth open as a desperate moan falls free.
And it goes, and goes, and goes. Stronger and longer than any other one you’ve ever had and this time, you think it really does kill you.
But he doesn’t stop, not even when you’ve begun to settle. He pushes against the sensitive nerves until tears spring to your eyes. He teases and he tortures and he demands a second orgasm out of you before you can even fight it.
This time, he grabs onto your hips, one hand on either side, to lift you and place you where he wants.
And he tastes you. Savors you on his tongue as if this is for his enjoyment, not yours.
And you look down at him, and you see the flush in his cheeks, and the messy way his hair falls into his eyes, and the veins in his arms as he holds you.
And you lose it. Completely and utterly and permanently.
You disappear into your own head for a moment until his ministrations relax and he slowly—very slowly—begins to let go.
As you fight to catch your breath, you watch him run his thumb across his lip. He’s going to wipe you away, you imagine, but then, to your surprise, he sucks his thumb into his mouth.
When he notices you watching, he raises a brow. “Want some?”
And you can only lay there and stare at him, dumbfounded and blissed-out
He laughs to himself when he notices the spacey expression on your face, moving to hover over your body until he’s only inches away. “Can I try something else?”
“What?” you ask breathlessly.
He smiles. “Kissing you.”
Your eyes widen. “...why?”
He shrugs. “I mean, it’s only polite after something like that, no? Like…a parting gift.”
Your eyes narrow. “How sweet. No, really, that was so romantic. Don’t stop, give me another compliment—”
He presses his lips to yours. And it’s rushed and it’s messy and it’s the perfect parting gift.
It’s him.
And you don’t mind that.
You both grin when he pulls back, chuckling to yourselves as he flops over onto the bed beside you.
He helps you toss the blanket over your legs before he’s turning onto his side, head in his hand as he studies you. “All right, Teach. What do you say?”
You pretend to think. “Well…your dirty talk could use some work.”
He smirks. “Okay.”
“And your incessant need to make me spell it out lost you a few points.”
“Sure, sure.”
“But, overall…that was really good,” you admit, and he beams. “Like…better than I expected, and I kind of think you lied about not knowing what to do.”
He shakes his head playfully as he glances off into your room. “Good to know you had so much faith in me.”
“Oh, I didn’t. Not even a little.”
He snorts. “Well, I meant what I said. I only knew what to do because of you.”
“Yeah right. I didn’t tell you any of that.”
“You did,” he argues, turning his attention back to you. “Not with words, no. But with the sounds you made. The way your breath would catch or the way you’d squirm. Or when your nose would crinkle up ’cause you were trying really hard not to like it.”
Shit…had he noticed that? “I…okay, in my defense…I like almost anything. And I wanted to make you work for it.”
“Oh, is that right?”
“Yeah.”
He rolls over onto his back, grinning up at the ceiling. “All right, well…I still appreciate it.”
“Hey, don’t get all sappy on me now.”
“Fuck off,” he groans. “I mean it, Bee. I was honestly…okay, don’t fucking laugh, but…I was kind of nervous about it. About whether or not she’d like it. Whether or not you’d like it, and…I’m glad you said yes. I’m glad it was you because…you know. It’s you. And I always feel better around you.”
You work to restrain your smile as you look up at the fan spinning above you. “I feel better around you, too.”
He hums.
“Especially after that. I mean…that was good,” you add and he shakes his head again. “She’s gonna love it.”
He turns to you. “Honestly?”
“Honestly.” You meet his eye. “Really, Har, you have nothing to worry about. She’ll show you what she likes just like I did. You know what to do, you just have to listen. And then…you can call me and tell me all about it.”
“Deal,” he agrees eagerly, sticking his pinky between you.
You take it and squeeze. “And I already know what next week's lesson is gonna be.”
Amused, he says, “Oh, yeah? And what’s that?”
You grin.
“How To Eat Ass 101.”
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Next part:
~ Show Me* (Pt. 2)
~ Full Teach Me Masterlist (with all the other parts plus extras!)
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
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heart-of-the-morningstar · 9 days ago
Text
✨All Dolled Up✨
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Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: After months of hard work, Lucifer finally gifted you a welcome present after joining the hotel! In return, you decide to make something of your own just for him! Your gift, however, turns out to be even more special than you intended...
This is a surprise story for my friend @rosen-und-mondlicht who gave me this very creative and fun idea for a story! Love you boo <3
Huge thanks to @canihaveacandycane and @citrusbatsandhoneybees for the help on this one!
Warnings: smut, 18+, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), multiple orgasms, p in v
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Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! We're so happy to have you stay with us! We hope your time here is an enjoyable one!
-Hotel Staff
P.S. Hey there! I'm sorry this took so long to give you, I just had to make it perfect! I hope you like it!
-Lucifer
It was custom for every new resident to receive a welcome letter. Even though you've already been at the hotel for 6 months now, it was still appreciated. You walked into your room and found your very late letter sitting next to a small white box complete with a red bow resting at the foot of your bed. The gift was unexpected; however, you hadn't heard of anyone else receiving one. Once you read the card, you figured you knew the reason for its delay. Lucifer, always the perfectionist, must have stalled the whole operation.
You hadn't expected to become so close to the King of Hell himself. You were weary of him at first, I mean, who wouldn't be? Everyone knew about the fallen angel. But after a while, you started to warm up to him. It was easy to see that he was nothing like you imagined or had been told about while you were alive. He was a kind soul, a dreamer who loved his daughter dearly, and someone who was very, very lonely. You learned about his previous wife Lilith and how she had left several years ago never and hadn't been heard from since. You could tell this deeply affected Lucifer even though he did his best to hide it through his jovial persona. You two grew pretty close, he found you incredibly easy to talk to, as if he had known you his whole life. You enjoyed your time together and you found joy in listening to whatever he chose to ramble on about that day be it his latest project or reminiscing about his daughter Charlie when she was younger. You'd never admit it, but you had developed somewhat of a crush on the king. But who were you to get involved with the ruler of Hell? It wasn't your place as a mere sinner and you dared not ruin the friendship you had built with him, odd as it may be.
Curiously, you picked up the box and casually began to unwrap it. you lifted the lid to find a cute little rubber duck that resembled you! All the little details down to your hair, your eye color, and somehow it managed to capture your smile in its little orange beak. You loved it, no wonder to took him so long to complete; every detail was perfect. It was such a thoughtful gift, and you felt the burning need to return the favor! Who knows the last time Lucifer had been given a gift. Why couldn't it be from you?
You noticed something else in the box too and lifted it up gently. It was a beautiful white and red feather. You knew it must have been his, but did he mean to give this to you as well? Knowing him, he must have worked frantically to get this gift finished. A few must have fallen off during the packing process; you knew how stressed the man could get. But the feather gave you an idea. You couldn't make rubber ducks like him, that was his specialty. But you did, however, know how to make little felt dolls! You were very crafty during your life and you figured you might as well use the skills you have to do something good.
You spent most of the night sewing and stitching everything together, ignoring the many warning signs your body gave you in order to try and get you to sleep. You were stubborn, however. Once you started a project, it was almost impossible for you stop until it was complete. It was nearly dawn by the time you finally finished the little doll. Well, almost finished! Everything was perfect, from the little snake that wrapped around his little hat to the tiny golden buttons on his jacket. There was only one things left to do! You grabbed the feather that you had found your box and delicately placed it inside of the small slit you had left open on the side of the doll. You thought the feather could represent a heart, something meaningful to give the doll and make it different from anything else.
Finally, you stitched the last gap closed, cutting the strong with your teeth to finally complete your gift. You stared at the doll for a moment to admire your work. And you were happy. But something weird happened. Just then, a small flash of golden light emanated from the doll but disappeared as quickly as it came. You set it down and rubbed your eyes. You looked over the doll again for another minute, but the flash of light never returned. You chalked it up to being a trick of the light. And considering the fact that you were sleep deprived, you wouldn't put it past your brain to start pulling tricks on you. You shrugged it off, taking the doll with you to bed. You drifted off to sleep easily, your eyes growing heavy as soon as your head hit the pillow. You clutched the doll close to your chest, giving it a small peck on the cheek.
"Goodnight, Lucifer," you whispered to it before letting your body fall unconscious.
****
You woke up with a start to the sound of your alarm blaring. It was 8:00 a.m. Not nearly enough sleep. You realized you hadn't moved all night; your body must have been too exhausted to toss and turn. You found yourself still holding the doll and smiled to yourself. You were still exhausted, but you knew Charlie would be sad if you missed breakfast, so with all of your remaining strength, you pulled yourself out of bed and begrudgingly began to get ready for the day. You decided you use a small tan paper you had from one of your shopping trips bag to hold the doll, thanking yourself for not just tossing it away like you normally would have.
You made your way to the kitchen knowing Charlie would be preparing breakfast for everyone. But to your surprise, when you entered through the kitchen door, it was not the princess you found at the stove, but her father. You heard him whistling a song you never heard before, a perfect melody. Your heart began to race as you walked a little bit closer to him, the smell of pancakes filling your senses.
"I can hear you, you know," Lucifer called out playfully as he flipped a pancake in the air. You couldn't help but giggle.
"Well, I'm glad," you retorted, now standing beside him. "I didn't really want to be scaring you when you’re working over a hot stove like that."
He gave you a small smirk without looking away from what he was doing. "Oh yeah, that truly would be terrible, wouldn't it?" he laughed. You knew he was more or less invincible, being an angel and all. Still, you didn't want to distract him.
"I thought Charlie was usually the one to prepare breakfast," you commented.
"Oh, she is!" Lucifer smiled. "But I told her I would handle the meals today. My little girl works so hard around here, you know? I thought it would be nice to take something of her plate...so to speak." He chuckled at his own joke as he laid the freshly made stack of pancakes on the neatly assembled row of plates.
"Do you need any help?" you asked, setting down the brown paper bag behind the kitchen island out of his view.
"Sure!" He turned around and pointed to the condiments he had laid out. "Could you hand me the syrup and the whipped cream over there?" You did as he asked and brought him the items. Lucifer began to smother the fluffy cakes in syrup and drawing little ducks with the whipped cream to top them all off. When he was finished, you and him delivered breakfast to the hotel residents. You came back to the kitchen to notice there were two plates of pancakes left.
"Oh, we forgot some," you commented. "Who did we forget?"
Lucifer only smiled. "Those are for us, silly! You have to eat too, don't you?"
In your effort to help, you completely forgot that you hadn't eaten. He handed you your plate and fork and you two stood there eating his delicious creation as you leaned against the countertop.
"These are amazing!" you tried to say with your mouth still half full.
Lucifer swallowed his last bite and gave you a toothy grin. "Why thank you! I'll be honest, I haven't cooked in a long time. I was afraid I had forgot how. But if you like them, then I know I succeeded!"
You set your finished plate down and crossed your arms. Lucifer seemed to be in more high spirits than usual. You liked seeing him like this; just happy. "If you don't mind me saying, Lucifer, your mood seems...different. N-Not in a bad way! Just...more full of energy."
He followed your motion and set his plate down behind him. "You think so?"
"Yeah," you continued. "It's nice to see. I like a happy Lucifer."
He smiled at you and left out a soft sigh. "Can I tell you something?" You tilted your head in confusion but nodded. "This is gonna sound a little weird, maybe a little bit crazy, but just hear me out, okay?"
"Of course! I never think you're crazy," you smiled. His hand found the back of his neck; he looked as though he was nervous about whatever he was about to tell you. Your heart started racing again.
"Last night, when I was sleeping...in the middle of the night, I felt something...I don't know how to say this...constricting me?" You furrowed your brow, not understanding what he was trying to say. "Maybe that's not the right word. Let's say...holding me. That sounds better."
"Holding you?" you questioned, "I'm not sure I get it."
"Okay uhh, let me think..." he placed his hand under his chin. "It almost felt like...cuddling?"
"So...someone was cuddling you last night?" you spoke in a hushed tone. You feared the worst when you heard him say those words. Lucifer noticed your change in demeanor and quickly back peddled.
"No, no, that's the thing! I was alone last night!" he reassured you. "I always sleep alone, ever since..." he shook his head as to move on and forget it. But you knew what he was going to say. "It was the strangest damn thing, in the middle of the night no less! And there was a voice that..."
Your brain refused to acknowledge Lucifer's last few words and were more focused on the fact that he was indeed alone last night. "That...certainly is odd. What could..."
Oh no...
Your eyes went wide with fear, your whole body froze, you couldn't bring yourself to finish your thought.
The doll.
The doll you made for him. You went to bed with it last night. You held it in your arms. You kissed it goodnight!
Oh no, oh no, oh no!
"Is everything alright?" Lucifer snapped you back to reality. "You look paler than me!"
You swallowed hard trying to muster up any sort of response. "Y-Yeah! Yeah, I'm totally fine! I just...I realized I promised I would help Angel with something this morning and I completely forgot! So, I'll see you later!"
You didn't give Lucifer a chance to respond as you ran out the door and grabbed the bag you had hidden from view. You didn't let up until you reached your room and slammed the door behind you. You set the bag down carefully onto your bed and gingerly removed the doll from it, using only your nails to hoist it out. You let it lay in your hand as you stared at it with panicked eyes.
"What the hell did I do?!" you asked yourself in a berating tone. "It's just a doll, it shouldn't have - hold on..." A sudden memory came flooding back to you. You called the doll emitting a strange light the night before as soon as you finished sewing the remaining stitches. Last night, you thought it was just the trick of the light; it was late and you were beyond exhausted. But that didn't explain why Lucifer was able to feel you holding him last night. The last thing you did was add "...the feather!"
That must be it! His feather must have caused the connection. Lucifer was an angel after all, a magical being of pure light. Surely anything that was a part of him would carry those same properties. You had to get rid of it! But how? You didn't know the extent of what this doll could feel. Surely stabbing it with a knife would cause him some pain...you think. Given Lucifer was more or less indestructible,  you still didn't really want to test that theory.
So, you stood there with the doll limp in your hand unsure of what to do with it next.
You couldn't bring yourself to destroy it, you put so much work into it and it would kill you to get rid of something that was meant to be an innocent gift. The best option would be to hide it, leave somewhere no one would find it and forget that it even exists. But then, the thought of Lucifer's smile crosses your mind. He was so happy this morning, happier than you've ever seen him. And it was because of you. Not that you would every dream of telling him that. But maybe...maybe it would be alright if you kept it. If you held it close to you at night. Perhaps it wasn't the most moral decision, but hey, you're in Hell, morality is not a common practice here. You brought that doll to your chest and held it tight. "I'm sorry..." you murmured to it, "If I can't tell you how I really feel, maybe this is the next best thing."
For the next several nights, you went to bed with the held tightly. And for the next several days, you couldn't bring yourself to face Lucifer. Anytime you heard him approaching or his voice getting closer, you ran the other direction. But not far enough to completely miss him. While you hid from his view, he had that same jovial expression since the day you made breakfast together. It warned your heart to know that what you were doing had a positive effect on him, even though you couldn't shake the guilt that came with that either. Sometimes he would catch you by surprise and spot you from across the hall. Lucifer would call out to you but you made it a point to get out of there as fast as possible. Strangely enough, he never sought you out after you ran, but you thought that was for the best.
One night before you went to bed, you sat up on your mattress staring at your creation resting in your palms.
"I'm a coward," you told yourself. "I should just tell him the truth. Why am I even doing this? I want him to be happy, but this isn't right. I shouldn't have put the feather in there, I should have just thrown this in my closet and not given it a second thought. But no! Now I'm avoiding him like a frightened cat because I don't have the guts to tell him..." You sighed. "One more night. Just one more. And then I'm done. I'll never think about this again." You turned off your lamp and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.
****
You cracked your eyes open the next morning, the light of the red sky filling your room. You sat up and rubbed your eyes before feeling around for your doll. You couldn't find it. Your opened your eyes wider. The doll wasn't there. You leaped from the bed and quickly began turning over your covers and throwing the pillows onto the floor. Nothing. You dropped to the ground and peered under your bed to a shocking sight. You gasped.
Keekee somehow found her way into your room. And what was in her mouth other than your little Lucifer doll.
"Keekee," you called to her. "I'm gonna need that back, sweetie! That's not a toy!" Your hand reached out slowly, trying not to spook the little cat. Her tail whipped back and forth as she raised her hind legs. "Nooooooo, don't you dare Keekee, I swear I'll..." but before you could finish your threat, she bolted from under your bed and ran straight out of your room. "Damn it!"
You didn't have time to change and in that moment you didn't care. You flung the door wide open and watched Keekee turn the corner, the doll still in her tiny mouth. "Keekee, get back here!" you yelled down to her as quietly as you could. You didn't know what time it was but it was too early to be cursing at a cat. She scurried away into another hall, forcing you to chase after her. You never lost sight of her, which you thought was a little odd. Normally Keekee could disappear if she really wanted to, but at no point did she ever make an attempt to avoid you completely. It was almost like she wanted you to follow her.
After several crazy turns, you saw her duck into and open door in one of the hallways. You figured it must be a closet. She was finally trapped. You hurried over to the dark room and pushed the door shut so the cat couldn't escape easily. But now you couldn't see.
"Keekee, come here girl," you cooed. "I promise I'm not mad, I just want the doll back." You found it a little ridiculous that you were trying to barter with a cat, but it was early in the morning and your hadn't fully woken up yet. "This isn't funny anymore, you know. Please, Keekee, I need that back!"
"And why would that be?" a low voice boomed in the dark. You shrieked as the lights flashed on. After blinking a few times trying to get your eye to readjust, you realized where you ended up.
Lucifer's workshop...with Lucifer sitting at his desk, Keekee snuggled in his lap.
Shit.
The first thing you could process was that you were still in your nightgown. Instinctively, you threw your hands over your chest in shock and embarrassment.
"Oh, God, I'm sorry!" Lucifer apologized, quickly covering his eyes with his forearm. "H-Here!" With a snap of his fingers, a giant blanket formed around you, covering you from head to toe. You gripped it tightly to keep in from falling off your shoulders. Lucifer peaked through his arm to make sure you were decent. "Sorry again, I should have realized you wouldn't have been dressed yet." You felt your cheeks burn as he spoke. He reached down to pet Keekee who had then dropped the doll into his other hand. "Such a good girl, Keekee!" he praised her, "who's a good girl? You are! Yes you are!" He looked back up at you and cleared his throat. Lucifer stood up from his chair while Keekee leaped onto the ground, curling up into a ball, and taking a little nap under his desk.
You swallowed hard before finally finding your voice to speak. "L-Lucifer, I-I can explain! I-"
"It's alright," the fallen angel smiled. "I'm sorry about all this, but you've been avoiding me lately. I knew you'd follow Keekee once you realized she stole this from you." He held out the doll in his hand. "You made this?"
You nodded your head, refusing to make any sort of eye contact. "It was meant as a gift for you. The duck you gave me was amazing, I wanted to give you something in return, but..." you couldn't bring yourself to finish your sentence. Lucifer continued to smile softly at you. This was definitely not the reaction you were expecting from him. You had so many questions and so many apologies to give him, but there was one burning question that you needed answered first. "Did you know something like this was possible?"
Lucifer shook his head. "No, I didn't. One of my feathers is in this, right?" You nod. "It must still contain its magic despite not being attached to me anymore."
Your eyes shifted to the ground. "How did you know it was me?"
"I heard you." You raised your eyebrow, not understanding his answer. "I heard your voice. Anytime you held the doll, I heard you, as if you were whispering in my ear. At first, I didn't recognize it. But as you kept talking, the words you were saying; it all clicked. I've been trying to get your attention these last few days but you ran as soon as you saw me. Were you...afraid that I would be angry?"
You nodded again, tears now welling up in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry, Lucifer, I didn't mean to...I just..."
"Hey, hey! Please don't cry! Please?" Lucifer quickly wiped away the tears that fell down your cheek. "I'm not angry, I promise! I'm the furthest thing from it!"
You sniffled a few times, trying to even out your breathing again. "You...You're not? But why?"
Lucifer looked down at the doll in his hand and sighed. "Because...I haven't felt that kind of care in a long time. " He gently ran his hands over the small striped undershirt of the tiny Lucifer. "Hehe, it feels weird when I do it..." He looked back up at you with the most needy eyes you've ever seen. "I should have talked to you immediately after I figured out what was going on. I should have made more of an effort. But I didn't. I know that's selfish of me. But...I was afraid if I did, you would stop. Every time I tried to talk to you, you ran. And I was silently grateful that you did. It meant I would get to feel that same feeling of being held again that night. When you said that last night would be the final time, I knew I had to come clean. I couldn't let you go on thinking that what you were doing was wrong. I hope you can forgive me."
He was apologizing to you? When you were the one that made this magical doll and refused to tell him about it? "You have nothing to be sorry for, I created this, and I didn't tell you what was happening when I learned what I'd done. This is my fault."
"Can I see your hand?" Lucifer asked, almost as if he was ignoring the blame you were putting on yourself. You did as he asked and outstretched your hand. He placed the doll flat in your palm. "You're very skilled, you know. You did a wonderful job capturing my good side," he chuckled. "I know this was originally meant for me, but I want you to keep it. What you do with it is up to you." You remained perfectly as he spoke. "If you want to forget that this ever happened, I would completely understand. You can put it on a shelf or hide it in a closet, and this will never be brought up again." His palms rested on top of the doll and the bottom of your hand. "But..." his grip tightened ever so slightly, his claws digging into the fabric.
"You don't want that, do you?" his thoughts leaving your mouth. Lucifer didn't respond, he didn't even look up as you asked him.
That was all the answer you needed.
You pulled away and hid the doll under your blanket, giving him a soft smile. "I'll keep it...you safe. I promise. If it's what you really want."
"I do." The king couldn't help but beam at you. He wrapped his arms around you, constricting your own. He pulled away once he realized how hard he had been squeezing you. "Sorry," he laughed lightly. "Umm, by the way, i-if you ever need me, you can use the doll to talk to me if I'm not around. It can be about anything..." he leaned in closer and closer to you until you felt the light brush of his lips against your cheek. "And I do mean anything. I don't want to, you know, assume anything, but there had to be a reason why you went to bed with the doll every night. Some of the things you said...it sounded like you had more that you wanted to say. I just don't want you to be afraid. We're friends after all, right?"
Your heart was beating out of your chest as you listened to his words. You tried to speak but only air left your lips. Lucifer only giggled as you watched his cheeks turn a pale yellow. You couldn't believe what he was inferring. it couldn't be possible. And yet here you were with Lucifer himself practically begging for more of your attention.
"I...I don't know what to say," you finally managed to choke out. "This is all a little overwhelming, Lucifer."
"Then don't say anything," Lucifer responded. "Take all the time you need. I hope to see you soon," With a snap of his fingers, you were engulfed in sparkling red flame. You shielded your eyes for a brief moment. But after opening them again, you found yourself back in your bedroom. You walked over to your open door and quietly closed it, sinking to the floor afterwards. There was a lot you needed to process. The blanket that covered you fell to the floor as you ogled at the doll in your hand.
You hugged it tighter than you ever had before.
****
The rest of the day was perfectly quiet, mostly because you did see Lucifer for the rest of it. You cautiously approached Charlie and asked about him. She let you know that her dad told her he needed his privacy today and that no one should worry. Her words didn't comfort you like you hoped they would. Was Lucifer okay? Did this whole ordeal cause him to isolate himself. Did he change his mind about it? Your heart sunk at the thought. You needed to talk to him again, but you weren't sure you could face him. But...there was another option.
Later that night, you threw on your robe to get ready for a nice long bath. After the day you had, you needed it. You glanced over at the little stuffed doll sitting on your night stand, now hearing your own heartbeat in your ears. It was now or never; you wouldn't let your nerves get the better of you anymore. You took a hold of it and sat down on your bed, now extra aware of  your hand movements.
"Lucifer, can you hear me?" You asked. There was no response. "I guess that was a stupid question. Hey, umm, I wanted to thank you. For today, I mean. I was so afraid that this situation would sully our friendship so badly that you'd never want to talk to me again. I hope you're doing alright. And I hope Keekee's teeth didn't hurt you too badly. I'm rambling now, aren't I?" In that moment, you could almost hear Lucifer's laugh.
The grip on you had on it tightened ever so slightly as you gathered the courage for what you really wanted to say. "You were right before. When you thought I had more to say to you. I-I did. But I didn't know how you would take it if I ever told you. I was afraid of your reaction. And your rejection. But...I don't have the strength to tell you in person." You brought the doll closer to your face, your lips ghosting over the fabric. "I love you," you whispered before planting a small peck to its small cheek.
Silence.
Your breath heaved slightly before setting the doll back down. You closed your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. It was done. There was nothing more you can do. You stood up and headed straight for the tub. You needed that bath now more than ever.
Knock knock knock
You froze in place for a few seconds, a little bit frightened by the sudden noise that emanated from your bedroom door.
Knock knock knock knock knock
The knocking on the door became more eager. You hurried over to answer after waiting a little too long to answer. Silently, you opened the door.
Lucifer was standing there in the hallway with the brightest smile.
"I love you too. I only wish you would have told me sooner," the ruler of Hell whispered as he gripped your hands. "Because then I could have done this!"
With little warning, Lucifer brought his lips to yours. You sat there in shock, eyes wide, before quickly succumbing to his temptations. You let your eyes lids fall as you wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him closer while his hands found your waist. A delicate kiss to your soft lips, over and over he lightly parted his own as he continuously nipped at you. He pulled away, staring back with his half-lidded eyes. You could have sworn he was drunk of the kiss the way his face formed into a goofy grin. He giggled just a little before widening his eyes in shock and stepping away.
"I'm sorry! I don't know how I keep catching you at the worst times!" he exclaimed now looking at the ceiling to avoid your gaze. You realized what had caused him to get so flustered. You looked down and remembered that you were in your robe.
And only your robe.
You blushed hard, not being able to stop yourself from laughing. "No, no, it's okay! This one's on me, I shouldn't have called you dressed like this."
"But you didn't know I was going to pop over here! My fault, I don't wanna hear any 'buts'!" Lucifer turned his head to the side still doing his best not to look at you.
"Well, I was just getting ready for a bath..." you began.
"O-Oh, yeah, of course! No worries! I really should have thought this through, I just got really excited and I...Anyway! We can talk about this tomorrow! So, I'll just be-"
"My bath is big enough for two." You blurted out without thinking.
At that moment, you could hear a pin drop. What was only a few moments felt like an eternity of silence. Your first instinct was to shut the door and lock it as fast as possible, but your body refused to budge. You just stood there horrified at the words that had escaped your mouth.
Lucifer wasn't faring much better. You watched his whole face turn a bright yellow that spread rapidly over his painted cheeks. And...was he shaking?
"I don't know why I said that," you mumbled almost incoherently. "if you need me, I'll be drowning myself now." You began to close the door before Lucifer caught it.
"I don't want you to drown," he spoke softly with just a hint of humor in his voice. "I better stay to make sure you're safe."
His words shot threw you like an arrow and your body instinctively opened the door once more to let your visitor in. The implications of his acceptance of your accidental offer crashed over you as soon as Lucifer closed the door behind him. He gave you a sheepish smile, his face's yellow tint had yet to rescind.
"I-I'll uhh, I'll draw the bath then," you squeaked and scurried over to the bathroom without another word. You tossed a towel for him onto your bed and hid yourself in the next room as the water began to fill the tub. You felt as though you could pass out at any moment; the crushing anxiety mixed with your burning desire to be as close to him as physically possible was a terrifying yet tantalizing feeling. To counter your worry, you grabbed some bottled soap from the counter and mixed it in with the steaming water, creating thousands of little white bubbles that threatened to spill over onto the floor. You would worry about any mess made later; right now, you wanted to savor this moment as much as you possibly could. Disrobing, you stepped into the now full tub and sunk down into the soothing water. Your heart was still beating a mile a minute but the water did half a sort of calming effect on you.
Knock knock knock
Well, that didn't last long.
"May I join you now?" Lucifer's muffled voiced called out.
A few quick deep breaths later, you cleared your throat, praying your voice wouldn't reveal how utterly stressed you were. "Y-Yes, come in!" Perhaps a poor choice of words, but you didn't have time to think about that when you caught your first glimpse of a nearly naked Lucifer. His alabaster skin looked as if he had been carved from the finest marble, his shoulders were broad compared to his relatively slim physique. Your eyes trailed to his blackened arms and hands that perfectly contrasted the rest of his skin. He was the epitome of perfection. The man closed the door behind him and made his way over to you.
"H-Hi," Lucifer stuttered.
"Heeeyyyyy there..." you rolled your eyes. "Listen, we can agree this is just a little awkward, right?"
Lucifer chuckled. "Maybe just a little bit. How's the water?"
"Join me and see for yourself! I'll just umm..." you turned your head and covered the side of your face with your hand, assuring you wouldn't see anything once he removed his towel.
"I'm not shy, hon." You just knew if you turned around, he would have the most prideful smirk on his face.
"You should get in before I change my mind," you playfully shot back.
You heard his towel hit the floor immediately. A fiery heat burned your core as the water shifted when he made his way in the tub. You closed your eyes for good measure so that you wouldn't be tempted to make this even more awkward than it already was. As soon as the water stopped moving, you took that as a sign that it was safe to look again. You turned your head to see Lucifer was sitting back against the other side playfully running his hands through the soapy bubbles that were floating on the surface.
"I love the bubbles, a very nice touch!" he commented.
"Thanks," you murmured. "You're sitting the wrong way though."
"Huh?"
"W-Well," you cleared your throat, "how am I supposed to clean you if you’re sitting so far away?"
"Oh...oh! Yeah, you're right!" Lucifer quickly spun his body around, his back now facing you. You spread your legs wider for him to scoot up closer to you, but he remained closer to the center of the tub. "Is this better?"
"Still a little too far..." The time for embarrassment had long gone. You grabbed a hold of Lucifer's hips and brought his body nearly flush between your thighs, earning a yelp from the startled angel. "What happened to not being shy, hmm?" you taunted. You could have sworn a little whimper escaped his throat.
Despite its frigid appearance, his body was warmer than you expected. You didn't let your hands linger on his waist for too long nor did you want to think about how his ass was mere inches away from your yearning womanhood. You forced yourself out of the trance and instead grabbed the washcloth and body soap from the small table and began to pour some of the liquid into the small towel, rubbing it between your fingers. "You promise to tell me if this becomes too much?"
Lucifer turned his head with a soft look on his face. "I promise that it won't be." You hummed, slowly bringing the cloth to his skin. He shuddered from the contact.
"Are you alright, Lucifer?"
He exhaled deeply. "I'm alright. More than alright! I'm just...really enjoying this. Thank you..."
You didn't waist anymore time scrubbing the rest of his back clean. Moving to his shoulders, down each arms, then reaching around the front to get to his chest. Without realizing, your head found its way to one of his shoulders, your chin resting comfortably. A soft sigh left your lips.
"Hey, uhh, y-you're going a little low there..." Lucifer said, his voice snapping you out of your haze. Your hand somehow drifted below the water and ended up resting on his lower stomach. Once you realized where you were heading, you pulled your arms away immediately.
"Sorry!" you nearly shouted. "I-I wasn't paying attention! Shit, I'm sorry!"
Lucifer shifted again, now facing you and gave you a small peck. "Sweetheart, it's alright, really! You don't need to apologize." Lucifer took the rag from your hand and made his way back to where he first started against the other side of the tub. "Here, let me return the favor. It's your turn now." With mild hesitation, you accepted his help wordlessly, turning your back to him as he did for you. Afraid of getting any closer, you stopped before any noticeable contact had been made. "I need you closer, dear," he whispered in your ear before pulling you against his chest with minimal effort.
You felt everything in that moment; his hands resting on your hips, his hot breath against your sensitive skin, and most distracting of all, his very noticeable hard on against the small of your back. It took everything you had to not scream like you wanted to. Knowing that this perfect creator was turned on by you made your heart flutter like a butterfly. Your body begged your to shift, if only a little bit, just to feel him rub against you. But you fought it against it furiously, digging your finger into the sides of his thighs to keep yourself grounded. The way your body tensed caused Lucifer to push you away from him slightly.
"Too much?" he asked, concerned that he may have crossed a line.
"No." you shook your head. You pushed yourself back against him, the friction sending a shiver up your spine. The low moan from Lucifer was magical, almost hypnotic. You needed to hear more. But before you could shift again, you felt the soft texture of the washcloth against your back.
"Good," his voice causing goosebumps to form on your arms, "now let's get you clean." He mimicked your movements, gliding the cloth against your soft skin, starting from the top and working his way down methodically. He moved to your shoulders, first the left and the right. Every muscle in your body just wanted to relax into him; you only wanted to float in this water with him for the rest of the night. But you were snapped out of your daydream when you noticed his movements had stopped. You looked down and saw his hand resting on your collarbone. It took only a moment to realize why the devil himself became a statue.
Lucifer swallowed hard behind you. "Am I allowed to...can I...?"
With a small giggle, you took the cloth from his hand and tossed it to the ground. Pulling your hands out of the water, you guided his own hands to your breasts. Lucifer gasped lightly but didn't pull away once your released his hands. His claws felt so nice on your bare skin that you let out a gasp of your own. "I think we're past the point of modesty, Lucifer. Go ahead, I-I want you to touch me."
Your permission was all he needed. Within a second, the king of Hell began to massage your breasts with the most delicate of touches, kneading them like fresh dough. His mouth sank down onto your pulse, sucking on it feverishly. A small whimper escaped your throat as he began to roll your nipples between his fingers. The man was intoxicated and you were the cause.
"You're too good to me, you know that?" he breathed against your skin. "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you how beautiful you are? How enchanting? How irresistible?" One of his hands made its way down your side to your hip, sinking beneath the water and resting on your inner thigh. "To hold you like this is a dream come true."
"Lucifer, please..." you begged. Your hand found his once more and guided it down to where you needed him most. Once his fingers reached your folds, you couldn't help but whimper. In no time, he began circling your clit gingerly while his other hand worked at your breast. It was too much and not enough at the same time. You opened your legs as wide as your tub would allow to give him more access to your needy hole.
"Tell me what you want, love," he whispered in your ear. "Just say the word and it's yours."
"Touch me..." you pleaded.
You felt a finger slip into you effortlessly, a broken moan falling from your lips. You turned your head and crashed your lips into his, your desire for him only growing with every passing second. Another one of his fingers slid into you, his digits gliding in and out of your pussy with ease. He moaned into your mouth as he continued to pump his digits into your cunt, his pace increasing slowly with every movement.
"Need more of you..." he pleaded. "Please..." His fingers refused to let up. The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter. You cried out in pure elation when you felt the coil finally give way, cumming hard and pulsing around his fingers that had yet to slow down. Once you could breathe normally against, he at last retreated his fingers from you, giving you a small peck on your forehead.
"T-Thank you," you mumbled out. "I think we're both pretty clean now, wouldn't you say."
"I'd say your right," Lucifer agreed. In a flash, Lucifer managed to stand up and scoop you up effortlessly as if you weighed nothing. You let out a small yelp when he picked you up and set you down on the bathroom floor, retrieving a towel from the nearby rack and sliding it up and down your body before using it on himself. "But I think this is all for naught," he continued as he guided you back to your bed, "because I think we may need another bath, I'm afraid."
He laid you down and quickly shoved his heads between your legs. You realized what he was about to do and sat up before he could go any further. "Wait, wait, hold on now!" Lucifer's eyes looked back at you with concern. "I don't think this is fair! What about you? I haven't even touched you yet!"
Lucifer gaze softened. "Oh, hon, I appreciate it but you don't have to worry about me! I-I'm fine, really! I just...I really need to taste you... Please, I'll do anything!"
You closed your legs and folded your arms over your chest, earning a tiny whimper from the man in front of you. "I seem to recall that I could have anything I wanted," you teased. Lucifer nodded and stuck out his lower lip to pout. You rolled your eyes and smiled, crawling over to him. "I have an idea. But you need to lay down for me. Can you do that?"
He did as you said almost instantly, his head hitting the back of the pillows with a soft thud. At this point you couldn't help but stare at his twitching cock. It was beautiful; thicker and longer than you might have expected from someone of his stature. Not that you would ever complain. You had to hold yourself back from letting out a whine that threatened to make you sound even more pathetic. You closed your eyes and crawled over the devil beneath you. You leaned down to kiss him again, his tongue not holding back from pushing through your lips and entangling it with yours. You pulled away and smiled unabashedly at him, admiring his perfect face and his insanely adorable blush. Without a word, you turned your body so your pussy hovered inches away from his mouth.
"S-Shit..." you heard Lucifer mutter under his breath. Knowing you had this much of an effect on him gave you the confidence you needed to grab ahold of his aching member. Lucifer couldn't help but cry out.
"This way we both get what we want," you told him before giving his tip a tiny little kitten lick. The precum from his shaft had already begun spilling onto your hand; you couldn't help but grin. "Someone is needyyyyYYYY F-FUCK!"
Lucifer pulled your hips down onto his face without warning, his tongue working at your slick cunt like a man starved. HIs claws dug into the sides of your body, the pain mixing with the undeniable pleasure his mouth gave you. Not to be outdone, you sunk your mouth down on his cock, licking and sucking at the tip. Lucifer moaned into your pussy at the feeling of your tongue. Both of your lust-filled sounds filled your room as you each sought to bring the other to their climax. You wouldn't let him win. You couldn't.
Your head bobbed up and down his girthy shaft over and over, taking in as much of him as you could. But with your growing pace came Lucifer's own counter move as his forked tongue pushed even further into you than you thought possible. You were both coming undone impossibly fast. Even with your head fuzzy from the tantalizing feeling of his mouth, your hand and mouth worked together in tandem to push him over the edge. Lucifer cursed against your skin as you felt his hot cum finally fill your waiting mouth. But it only took him a few seconds more to bring you to another orgasm after he begun to tease your clit over and over and over, refusing to give you any sort of reprieve.
You swallowed as much of his as you could before letting go of his cock with a satisfying pop with some of his release dripping down towards your chin. You wiped your fingers against the remains and made sure he watched as you licked them clean. Something in Lucifer must have snapped because the next thing you knew, you had been flipped down onto the mattress with your wrists pinned at your sides. You blinked and stared up into Lucifer now glowing red eyes; his. His demonic horns had burst from his temple, his angelic wings appeared and began flapping behind him, and his tail whipped back and forth before coiling itself around your waist. You gulped, your pussy begging to be filled by the man above you.
"Sorry," Lucifer apologized. "I got a little too excited there." He freed your hands and brought them down to your hips. "D-Do you want to keep going? We can stop if this is too much and-"
You cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips. "It's alright, Luci. I want this. I want you."
Lucifer smiled and kissed you again, stroking his still hard cock in the process. When he pulled away, you felt the tip graze your slick folds. That feeling alone was enough to make you shudder with anticipation. With final nod from you, Lucifer at last began to sink into you. You winced at the pain you felt as your body forced itself to stretch for him until he finally bottomed out inside of you. The pain slowly faded as he waited patiently, smiling at you the entire time.
"Y-You can move now," you squeaked out.
Lucifer nodded, shifting his hips just enough to pull out of you almost all the way before thrusting back in, earning a wanton moan from you. He started slow for you, knowing his size was a bit much to handle. But as your body relaxed, his picked up the pace. Faster and faster until both of you were complete and utter moaning messes.
"F-Fuck...feel so good, love," Lucifer sighed as his wings began to twitch. "S-So good. So perfect...I'm really happy y-you made that doll. I-I know everything didn't go exactly as planned but...GAAHHH FFFFUCK...I think it all turned out f-for the better, don't you think?"
Your moans turned into giggles as he continued to rut into you relentlessly. "You're s-such a dork," you laughed as your legs wrapped around him to force him to keep him as deep inside you as possible.
"B-But I'm your dork," he joked back. "Sorry love, but you're stuck with m-me now!"
"G-Good," you responded breathlessly, his hips thrusting into you even faster than before. "Then we c-can be dorks together!"
"P-Perfect!" Your cunt sucked in his cock as you felt the coil in your stomach tightening again. By the noises he was making, you can only assume Lucifer was almost at his limit too. "Darling...c-can't...I'm close...f-fuck...where-"
"Inside!" you screamed. "FuckfuckfuckFUCK LUCIFER!" Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your wanton cries echoing off the corners of your room. It only took a few more thrusts for Lucifer to follow suit and spill his seed inside of you, his cum painting your walls a pearlescent white was he pulled you in close for another passionate kiss.
The king crashed on top of you after pulling out of you, his unearthly features retreating except for his tail which remained firmly wrapped around you. You smiled as he laid his head on your chest, his breathing labored and shaky. You stroked his soft blond hair as he hummed in approval. He looked up at you with adoring eyes and stuck out his snake-like tongue.
"What's that look for?" you asked him.
"Oh nothing," Lucifer sighed, "I'm just looking at the prettiest woman in all of Hell is all!"
You pushed his face away and laughed. "Yep, still a dork."
"But you love me!" he said gleefully, rolling onto the bed and pulling you into a tight embrace.
"I do, I really do. I wish I would have told you sooner."
Lucifer kissed the top of your forehead. "Don't worry, hon, I know now. And that's all that matters. Besides, I finally get to hold you now! And wow, does it feel like heaven!"
You buried your face in his chest and squeezed him tight. "Well, I can say for certain that you feel much better than the doll. Would you...like to stay over tonight?"
"Of course I would love," he spoke softly. "I have you in my arms now, and I don't intend on ever letting you go."
~~~~
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THIS TOOK WAY TOO FUCKING LONG, I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANYWAY!!!!!!!!!!!
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slytherinshua · 4 months ago
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FATAL FLAW
genre. rivals to lovers. fluff. warnings. competitive/perfectionist reader. both reader and taesan dance competitively. a little jealousy. not proofread. pairing. taesan x fem!reader. wc. 1.1k. request. requested by anon for #6: "I realized why I couldn't stand you; I can't stop loving you and it's driving me crazy." a/n. this was only supposed to be like 500 words what happened... idk like the dance rival plot just appeared in my head so i was like okay lets go w that USUALLY WRITING FOR TAESAN IS RLY HARD SO IM GLAD THIS FIC WAS KINDA THE OPPOSITE SDJKS net. @onedoornet
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Dongmin was your biggest rival in everything. Whether it was in school or at dance competitions, you would always be fighting for who would place first. You had a lot of respect for Dongmin, although your blood boiled whenever you placed second to him. Before he showed up, first place already had your name written on it before you even showed up to competitions. Your title as the ace was in limbo the second the raven haired boy showed his face.
You did well in school to make your parents happy, and were lucky enough to be able to place first without trying too hard. As long as you studied the material, your brain would do the rest. Dance was a different field, though. It was one of the only things that hadn’t come naturally to you as a child. Your parents were proud of you for sticking with something hard, hoping that you’d learn to persevere even when things were tough. When you eventually got to the top of your class in all dance areas as well, your parents were at a standstill. The appearance of Dongmin was celebrated by them, but not by you.
Worst of all, your parents were friends with his, and whether it was studying together or driving to dance class, they made sure your schedules were always intertwined. You saw the boy more than you saw your own friends. It was insufferable. You hated the way he smirked at you whenever he placed first, taunting you with those perfectly shaped eyebrows raising just slightly. You hated how he licked his lips, testing your self composure by making them look so inviting. And you hated his nickname for you; princess.
The week had been unpleasant all around. Dongmin had gone to extra dance classes in the morning, leaving you to get to school on your own. At first you had been excited at the idea— finally getting a break from the boy after months. Now you realized that having him next to you was better than seeing him at a distance. Your eyes couldn’t seem to leave him as you picked at your school lunch, eyeing him down like a hawk from across the cafeteria.
Why in the world was he talking to Minju and smiling? Your chopsticks almost snapped with how harsh you were holding them.
The situation only got worse that evening, as Dongmin had booked a slot at the studio to practice his solo, whereas you were left at home to study for a test which you already knew you would ace. You barely wrote anything in your notes, ending up spacing out instead, your phone open to Dongmin’s chat. You hated how you couldn’t get your mind off of him.
Your brain suddenly clicked, a sudden realization crashing down on you that you had never even considered before. And with your mind racing and impulsivity coursing through your veins, you grabbed your phone and rushed out of the house in the direction of the dance studio.
It was late in the night and only a couple rooms were in use, one of which was studio 8: where you could hear the music blasting for Dongmin’s solo. You didn’t bother knocking before entering the room, immediately catching the attention of a very surprised Dongmin.
��Hey, what are you doing here—“ 
“I need to tell you something.” You said simply. Dongmin gave you a questioning glance, but switched off the music regardless, grabbing a drink of water and a cloth to wipe his sweat. 
“You couldn’t have just told me over text or something?” He asked.
“No, I need to tell you in person.” 
Dongmin crossed his arms, taking a couple steps towards you, “Alright. Go ahead and say it, princess.” 
You took a breath, “I realized why I couldn’t stand you for all those months.” That caught Dongmin’s attention more than you storming into the practice room. He waited for you to continue speaking, eyes glued to your face.
“I can’t stop loving you and it’s driving me crazy.” You completed, daring to look up at his face, watching for his reaction.
You expected disgust or maybe his signature smirk to adorn his face like countless times before. He would probably enjoy having another way to beat you. But instead, shock and slight confusement showed on his face, a twinge of hope behind those ebony eyes. He took a tentative step forward, more hesitant than his previous ones, closing the rest of the distance between you and him. 
“You love me?” He questioned, trying to get his brain to process what you had just said. It was so unbelievable— especially coming from you. Dongmin had tried to get your attention for months. When his efforts only led to you getting mad, he had thought about giving up. But the rivalry kept your attention on him, and he quickly learned to accept that he might not have a chance with you, but he would still give it a valiant effort. 
You were the only girl he had ever crushed on, and he hadn’t anticipated that it would throw him headfirst into a lovesick disease that he couldn’t cure. You were both the poison and the antidote. Every day you plagued his mind, all efforts he tried to erase your pretty face out of his head failing. It was the fact that you were so close yet just out of reach that Dongmin couldn’t handle. He wanted you, needed you, for so many months. And now, finally, you were confessing to him.
“I-it’s stupid. I’ve hated you every single day since you first showed up. But, I can’t get you out of my head. Just get out of my head, please.” You whispered the last part in desperation, suffering from the very same lovesickness that Dongmin had endured for months. 
His eyes softened looking at you, but he shook his head, “I’ve tried for months to get you to think about me. I’m not gonna leave now.” He took hold of your wrist, pulling you forward so your face was mere centimetres away from his. His eyes asked for permission from you, eyeing your lips and eyes until you gave him a slight nod. He didn’t waste a second diving in, finally fulfilling what he had longed for since the first time he met you.
And it didn’t disappoint. The softness of your lips was just as he had imagined, and they fit perfectly with his, as if you were made for him. You— perfect face, perfect dance, perfect grades, perfect everything— had finally found your fatal flaw: falling for your rival. But maybe it wasn’t such a disastrous miscalculation on your part. Maybe you and Dongmin were destined to be from the start.
↳ boynextdoor taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @rizzshimura,, @captivq,, @icyminghao,, @eternalgyu,, @metalchick529,,
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pallastrology · 8 months ago
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observations on pisces
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artwork by georg janny
saturn in pisces ('tis the season...) suffers greatly with feelings of guilt. something else they can struggle with is fear. the fear is often existential, and the natives experience it from a young age. they will often 'ritualise' their fears, creating structures that help them feel safe and protected, but in doing so, these structures can actually intermingle with their sense of guilt and lead to them feeling responsible for things no person is. they really do have the weight of the world on their shoulders sometimes.
pisces suns are often labeled as easily influenced, and while this isn't entirely untrue, i think it's a bit oversimplified. pisces is receptive and sensitive, taking in a lot from their environment and reading between the lines easily. they are a mutable sign, and so aren't naturally stubborn people. but when well-developed, sun in pisces is a very self-aware placement and that reflective, open nature helps them to actually become quite sure about their beliefs and values. so i suppose, an undeveloped pisces sun will be easily influenced, but maybe not a pisces sun in general.
with pisces in the seventh house, the stereotype is that the native is the type to dream about a prince charming figure who'll sweep them off their feet. in reality, this placement is more likely to not really know what they want from a relationship, to struggle with healthy boundaries, and to feel they have to save - or be saved by - their partner. it takes time and steady reflection to understand where these difficulties come from and how to heal their relationship with love.
mars in pisces tends to really struggle with conflict. they turn it over and over, ruminating endlessly. should i have said this? done that? did i go too far? pisces almost always struggles with boundaries and emotional conflict, but with mars here there's so much energy directed to working on these issues, it can feel like an impassable bridge to the native. as much as they struggle however, they are also fiercely caring, sensitive and surprisingly brave individuals, who can push themselves hard when they are connected to something important.
pisces moons will often disappear when things overwhelm them. they can get a reputation for being a bad friend because of this, despite their caring nature. while they can easily fall into despair over the issue, it doesn't need to be permanent; a big learning curve for these natives is learning to both not induce this crushing overwhelm and urge to vanish, and to better manage their emotions and health when things pop up unexpectedly. embracing their sister sign, virgo, can be a way forward here.
mercury in pisces, when writing or otherwise creating, is very sensitive to the feeling of their medium. so with words, for example, the word has to evoke the right feeling before it's considered to be the right word for the native to use. they are actually pretty perfectionistic in this sense, though their creations can seem to lack a strong, distinctive style; they are mutable after all, and this quality shines through in their work, as they flit through various influences and inspirations.
pisces ascendants get a reputation for being sweet and shy. while they are on the shy side, they are highly receptive and read deeply into what's going on around them, absorbing the atmosphere like a sponge does water. it's a placement that's often infantilised, probably because neptunian placements in general are easily misunderstood. but pisces risings are not so much innocent little faery children; they're a little reclusive, highly attuned to those around them, and easily confused by their own emotions and reactions.
venus in pisces is selfless to a fault, but there's an interesting process going on beneath the native's awareness. they often have a romanticised view of selflessness as a concept, and idealise being nice and giving. so while they are genuinely kind, caring and self-sacrificing people, they do gain something, unconsciously, from giving themselves to others; it bolsters their sense of self and lifts their often low view of themselves. which is part of why it can be so hard for them to set healthy boundaries and stop giving everything to everyone.
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dragonlady-writes · 1 month ago
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"Baby, we're pregnant."
Astarion
The last thing Astarion ever expected to be was a father. Having the freedom to be his own person had once felt like a pipe dream to him, becoming a father was an impossibility in his mind. Given the low fertility rate of elves and the undead condition outright preventing new life, he was not ever expecting it in his life or planning for it.
And yet, due to the results of fey trickery, magic potions, or some other miracle, the evidence was obvious. You were now expecting.
Astarion tries to act aloof and carefree to everyone else, making casual jokes about how "accidents happen" and having a laugh. Yet when the two of you are alone, he is constantly watching over you and looking after you. He is there to serve, love, and protect, as nothing can take away what he never thought he could have. Pure love.
He is extra attentive and reads all that he can on what to expect despite no two sources saying the same thing. He tries his best to cook for you and cater to cravings to the best of his ability. He goes above and beyond to ensure you and the little one are happy and healthy.
The scariest moment of it all is the delivery. No one knows what to expect of a child conceived by a vampire spawn and a mortal. He never leaves your side, too scared that something will go wrong if he leaves and he will lose everything. It is a long and hard labor, but the baby is born as a dhampyr, healthy and alive. Astarion can't hold back his emotions when he holds his child for the first time. It wasn't too long ago that he had been under the control of a monster, and now here was his happiness bundled in his arms with you, his partner, right at his side.
He knows he won't be perfect, but he would dedicate his eternity to loving his family.
"I will give you the world and more, my little pup. I'll be for you everything I wished I had. I love you."
Gale
Years after the defeat of the Netherbrain, Gale and you had settled down in Waterdeep. You married shortly after as you each pursued your passions and dreams together. Gale became a professor of magic, helping to nurture young children into capable mages, providing extra attention to those living in orphanages. After so many years of teaching children and constantly being hounded by his mother, the desire to become a parent grew stronger.
You didn't need much convincing to agree. Gale was a loyal, loving husband and the sweetest man in the world. There was no one else that could be a better father in the world. Merely weeks after the discussion, the pregnancy tests came out positive, leaving the two of you over joyed.
Gale wasted no time in preparing the tower for the new addition. All of the sharp and dangerous items were stored or tossed. His office was cleared out to be turned into a nursery. He had several unseen servants roaming the space and baby proofing every possible dangerous nook and corner. Some would call it overkill, but Gale was a perfectionist who would ensure everything was ready for when the little one would arrive.
His worrying did at points come off as overbearing. Every kick or movement would sent him in a panic that the labor was starting. Every bout of morning sickness resulted in a doctor being summoned. Every craving you got was catered to in banquet sized feasts thanks to the help of magic. It wasn't until Tara and his mother held an intervention did he finally calm down with the panic and overexcitement, but not completely.
You were always treated like royalty by Gale when the two of you were together, but now his affection has only intensified. As he gives you massages, he'll go on in rambles about a new fact he learned about babies and ideas for new toys. He'll use a little bit of magic to sense the baby in the womb and talk with them. He is the happiest he has ever been.
The day of the labor, he was in the middle of a lecture when Tara told him the news. He dropped everything in the moment, leaving a classroom full of students and Tara forced to substitute for him. He appeared at your side within minutes and became your biggest cheerleader, even as you nearly broke his hands during contractions.
Finally, the baby was born, crying out to the world and the sound moved his very soul. He couldn't stop himself from crying happy tears as he gazed at the child he made with you. The tears only intesified as the baby wrapped their litter hand around his finger.
"This child will be the most cherished and loved child in the whole world. This is one of the happiest days of my life. Thank you, my dear, for giving me this wonderful life."
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apricityxoxo · 9 months ago
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Help and Care
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✧.* Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem! Reader
✧.* wc 5,786 (teheeheee)
✧.* summary: he definitely didn't need help, he doesn't need someone to care for him. no one has ever helped him before, and no one ever cared so why would they start now. he doesn't care, he definitely doesn't need help. so why does he keep ending up in the infirmary with the beautiful nurse? and why does he keep coming back to you?
✧.* contents: fluff, a bit of angst, and a sprinkle of suggestive dialogue
here's the whole story! it took me a while but I hope you all enjoy it, sorry I'm a perfectionist. I had a lot of fun writing this but let me know what you all think. i might write a pt 2 to this idk. Also pls excuse the medical and military inaccuracies
enjoy
Help. He hates help. He can’t stand it. When others look at him, when he looks at himself, he doesn’t see himself as someone dependent on others. Why else would he enlist, he didn’t need help, he learned that the hard way. No one ever helped him and he adjusted, so why would he need help now? People are dependent on him; they rely on him. When someone is injured, scared, or dead it’s up to him to fix the situation, to solve the problems of others, to carry the fallen.
When Price told him to go to the nurse he was upset, actually, he was pissed. He was not a child who scraped his knee playing football at school. He was a soldier; he was more than a mere man. He knew how to endure, he knew how to carry his weight, and he knew that he didn’t need to see the nurse. He knew what was wrong with him, he just bruised his ribs. He didn’t need some old woman with a bad attitude to tell him what he already knew.
He endured and he resisted the pain for exactly two weeks, but the pain was only getting worse. He was confused and didn’t know what to do, he hoped that no one had noticed and he didn’t want people to start. He didn’t want questions or concerns, he wanted relief and nothing more.
He thought no one would notice and he was so wrong.
Training.
Simon hated training the new recruits, they were cocky and they didn’t know their place. They thought after joining and passing the initial physical exams, they were done.
They were most definitely not done. They needed to adjust, physically and mentally, to fit in. Many people think the initial physical and mental exams are where new recruits break, no they break here, during training…with him. He hated it but knew why Price asked him to do it.
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Price usually did rounds during training, he watched the recruits and the techniques of the other task forces. The smell of sweat, dirt, and blood filled his system and that smell drew his attention to Ghost. Today he felt the need to check on Ghost and see how he was doing. Ghost was a good teacher even though he didn’t realize this, Price did though.
Ghost was mean, harsh, and disciplined, and the people he taught tended not to last long, however, the ones who did turn out to be great because the one thing that Ghost teaches best is endurance.
When Price was watching him train, he started to get upset and confused. This was most definitely different from the big and bad Ghost he was used to. He thought at first that "maybe Ghost was pulling his punches?" When he paired Ghost up to train some of the rookies, he thought maybe Simon was finally going soft.
Usually after training, the rookies would be sore, and in pain, sometimes they might even need to be excused to nurse. However, these past few weeks the rookies have been surprisingly...fine. Maybe even better than fine and it's been making them cocky, it's boosted some of their egos.
It would probably boost his ego too, Price chuckled. If he were to beat the big, brutal, scary Ghost while still a rookie. However, they are starting to get obnoxious because they are taunting and boasting, which is certainly something that Price could not have. It was starting to piss him off. Price was going to tell Ghost that if he didn’t put these pricks in line, there were going to be consequences.
That was the plan, but then he took a closer look and that’s when he saw it.
He saw the way that Ghost taking more hits than normal, he was slow to react and he was even slower to respond. His stance was off as well, usually his form made him feel like a giant among men but now he looked like he was shrinking himself, like it was his first day of training. Ghost wasn’t pulling his punches, he wasn't holding back, he was weak.
Now he was pissed.
Price knew.
Price knew exactly why Ghost wasn’t as strong as he usually is, why his punches aren’t as powerful as they normally are. Ghost was a disobedient bastard and Price was pissed.
“STOP! That’s enough training for today, soldiers.”
“Ghost, come now!”
“Yes, Captain” Ghost replied in his thick Manchester accent.
“The hell is wrong with you Lieutenant!”
“Nothin' Capt’n, I'm just-”
“You’re just hurt, did you go to the nurse?” Price knew the answer.
“I didn’t feel the need to go to the medical facility Capt’n”
“You didn’t feel the need to go?” Price asked Simon and looked at him like he was crazy. Since when did his soldiers feel the need for an opinion?
“If you don’t get your ass to the medical facility right now, you’re going to be training these pricks for three months straight. You understand?”
“Yessir!”
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Unbelievable!
He doesn’t need to be here. As he walks to the nurse’s offices, he feels everyone's eyes on him. He’s rarely ever here and because of that it draws the eye, lots of them. He thanked his balaclava every day because without it, based on the face he was making, some might think he was actually nervous.
He doesn’t want some old hag telling him what to do and degrading him for not coming sooner. Some old nurse or doctor telling him everything he already knows just to insult him and show off their vast vocabulary just to try and make him feel small. that’s what they all do, that’s what his father did.
He approaches the front desk and the older woman tells him to go to office number 222. He makes his way over, navigating the hallways,  and he finds the office. The sign is decorated with small pink flowers and a white cat with a red bow. He resists the urge to roll his eyes.
Before he goes and knocks on the door, he dries his palms on his pants, desperately hoping to get over this.
Knock-knock.
Some time passed but then he heard a soft voice say…
“Come on in”
He opened the door and he was surprised that the soft voice matched a beautifully soft face. A face with beautifully unique features that worked together in harmony to make the beautiful woman that sat before him.
God damn.
Those were the only words on his mind.
It wasn’t an old woman who looked like she had a chip on her shoulder and carried a deep grudge, nor someone who looked like they were going to insult him… no. definitely not.
It was a young woman.
A beautiful young woman.
A beautiful young woman with the most inviting features. Absolutely gorgeous, he’s never seen a woman this beautiful ever on this base. He feels like she doesn’t belong here, her face is an exact contrast to the environment he surrounds himself every day. He has a million questions he wants to ask her, and he feels the strong urge to get closer to her. He’s such a creep. He doesn’t even know her name.
He feels his mouth goes dry and his hands sweat. Gross. He hasn’t felt this way since Secondary School, he feels like a dork and he doesn’t know what is wrong with him.
“Good afternoon, how can I help you!” Her voice was cheery and if he was a little bit more nervous, he wouldn’t notice the shock on her face and the tremble in her voice. He was used to that reaction; it was probably due to his appearance. her voice matched her face and he felt his heart beat faster, he finally was going to die.
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He was just staring at you, he was just looking. You’ve heard rumors of him, of his personality. The big bad Ghost, the professional killer who lacks mercy for anyone. He was just staring at you and it was freaking you out. What’s wrong with him, why is he here in the nurse's office? Did he hurt someone? Or worse…
He’s still staring.
“… excuse me, is everything alright?”
“Erm…yeah, sorry” he responded and if your mind weren’t running a mile a minute you would have heard the way he sounded nervous.
He clears his throat and then replies “Captain Price has recommended I take a visit down here.” God his voice was so deep. He was so smooth, he had a thick accent that wasn’t like any of the others you heard on base. His voice was not at all soft but the way he spoke made something bubble inside you. 
Wait. ‘take a visit down here’
Oh. He needed help. 
“Oh… okay sir, what seems to be the problem?” You try your best to put on your customer service voice and hide the fact that you're wondering what this man might need help with. 
“Erm… last deployment I bruised my ribs real bad, don't know how…”
You try to listen, you have to pretend to do so. You're writing as he describes his symptoms. He has stomach pain, difficulty breathing, tenderness in his abdomen, and bruising. He describes his symptoms and you feel so bad for him and at the same time, you feel disgusted in yourself. 
Disgusted because instead of being focused on how he describes his pain, you focused on his attractive ass voice. You can't help it, you're just a girl. 
No, You need to remain a professional.
“Okay Lieutenant Riley, if it's all right with you, I’d like to examine your abdomen.”
“Yeah… that's fine” he sounds hesitant you feel bad… you feel like you need to reassure him.
“Don't worry lieutenant, I'm sure everything is going to be just fine.” you try to reassure him and when you do, you unconsciously give him a soft smile.
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Well, you have to ask him to take off his shirt. That was something that didn't occur to you. He doesn't have to comply, you could do the whole checkup with his shirt on. You hope he doesn't so you save yourself from embarrassment. 
“Sir, if you do not mind, may I ask you to remove your um… t-shirt?” you ask, trying your hardest to remain professional. It's completely reasonable for a medical professional to ask a patient to remove their shirt when they had an abdomen injury.
“You don't necessarily have to I'm sure I can find a way to…”
“I don't mind” Lieutenant Riley cuts you off as he agrees.
He sits on the examination table and removes his shirt.
You think you just died. You are short of breath and you think you died because there's an angel right in front of you. If you were anywhere else you would admire his powerfully built body, but you were more concerned with the bruising on his stomach.
You feel and you touch his body, extremely concerned about his well-being. His stomach was black and blue, his stomach was sore, and he could barely bend over. 
You were worried but also shocked because this man worked and trained in such a condition for about a week. You knew of Simon Riley and you knew of his reputation and this just supported the fact that he's an absolute abled-bodied unit… it was almost scary.
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“I believe you have a few broken ribs…sir.” You say almost scared of his reaction. He needed x-rays, actually he needed time off. 
“I'll recommend you an off-base X-ray Tech to take pictures of your abdomen, I also recommended to your captain that you take time off to heal. After we get your x-rays, I recommend you visit me every two weeks so we can look over your progress ” You tell him, distracted as you look over all your notes.
“Oh ok, every two weeks, and how long will it take to heal…” Luitenent Riley asked, he sounded nervous and you started to feel bad for talking to him so nonchalantly about his condition.
“Um should take about two months to heal. Ribs tend to heal rather quickly, however, since they weren't treated earlier it might take a while longer. Don't worry I’m sure you'll feel better rather quickly.” You try to give him a little bit of comfort. You give Luitenent Riley instructions, stating how to take care of himself and treat his injuries. 
He collects his stuff and is getting ready to leave before he turns around looks you up and meets your eye. 
“Thank you so much luv, ‘preciate it.” He tells you, in a soft accented voice.
“It's not a problem Luitenent.” You tell him and you feel your heart pick up its pace.
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Week 2 
He was supposed to visit today, you were expecting him today. You had all of his notes laid out and you were just waiting. 
Waiting.
Waiting. 
Other patients came and went but you were still looking forward to one specific client. The first time he visited you had no time to admire his large and confident stance when he walked into the room. He walked into the room with utter confidence as if he knew it would have an effect on you.
AND GAHHH LEEE
When he removed his shirt, you don't know how you controlled yourself. You knew he was a big man with a hefty build but you were not expecting what you saw. Your eyes were blessed with a solid, broad-shouldered, athletic man.
The literal definition of manly, if he wasn't in the military you were sure he would be off somewhere chopping wood or something. If you weren't at work you're sure you would be lying in bed kicking your feet.
When he spoke to you he had such a deep and low baritone voice that was heavily accented. You never had a thing for accents but he was something else completely. Low and intimidating, his language was professional but you could tell that he was trying not to curse and use slang. It's embarrassing to think about the things you'd do to hear him, swear or even say your name. In your head you know you’d sound like a rabid dog if he’d said it in that attractive ass voice-
Then you hear your name and think you might die. Actually, it was your last name and your medical title. But still—
It’s him.
He’s here. 
Remain professional! you scream and shout at yourself.
You greet him and try to make small talk, asking him how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, and what he’s been doing with his time off. It's hard, he's such a beefy and attractive man. You can't even see his face but based on just the way he walks, you know he's fine. 
Admittedly, working on this base that’s far away from your home made you forget how to act around an attractive man…
“Been reading too, I'm trying to distract myself. If ya have any recommendations just let me know.” he interrupts your thoughts and you relate to him. It gets boring between deployment he tells.
“What do you usually do between deployments?” you ask, sincerely.
“Train, train myself then train with others.” He replies.
You don’t ask anything else, you know that he must miss training every day. The way he says it makes you feel bad. You know many of the soldiers find solitude when they work on themselves and train. It calms them and helps them recover, it's almost a form of therapy. Simon can't do that, not with his injury. You feel a pang in your chest. 
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You go over his notes and x-rays. You give him a checkup and note that he’s healing rather quickly, based on the other scars you know that this isn’t his worst injury. 
You catch his eyes when you are going over everything with him and explaining your notes to him. He’s looking at you with his golden green eyes, staring you up and down. You feel sort of embarrassed because you don't feel cute at this moment. You didn’t put makeup on in the morning, just gloss on your plumped lip and curled your eyelashes. Your wash day is coming up too so you wrapped your hair in a colorful scar today.
The way he looked at you was the way men would look when you would walk into a club. When you had a full face and your hair was freshly done. When you had a tight and short dress that would accentuate your beautiful curves. When you knew that you looked stunning that's the way he was looking at you, right now.
His visit was finished and you put the date for the next visit in your calendar. Before he leaves he thanks you.
“I don't like doctors but I appreciate all you've done for me, miss.”
“Thank you Luitenenent, if you ever need a book recommendation you can always come see me.”
“Thank you.” He tells you and even though you can't see his face, you feel a smile radiate off him.
You feel like he’s such a kind man.
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Week 4
Today, on his next visit, he’s not as kind.
You know why. You can tell that he's antsy, that he wants to get back to work. He’s rushing the process and wants to do everything you told him not to do. He wants to disregard all the instructions you gave him. You’re used to that, soldiers want to get back to their daily routine and they’re itching to do something strenuous during the healing process.
You would be fine with that if it were not for his shortness with you. He was annoyed and that was completely acceptable but there was no need to be curt and downright rude to you.
His answers were short. After each question, while trying to make small talk he replied with a ‘Mmhmm’. He didn't make eye contact with you and when you would suggest activities for him to try and distract him, he would roll his eyes and brush it off. 
He didn't want to chat and you feel like this is not the same man, who came to visit last time.
Today’s visit was short, there was clearly no need for small talk on his end and no time for the flirting you wanted to do. 
You did yourself up today too and now that you think back at it, it feels like a waste of time. You enjoyed the visit you had with him last time you were looking forward to today's visit. However, that feeling quickly dissipated, when Luitenenent Riley came in with a bad attitude and short tone. You had no time for this today, you think you even returned that same energy. So the visit was short and he left with a slammed door following behind him.
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Lunchtime came around and you were most definitely looking forward to it. After a long day, that wasn't even over, all you wanted to do was eat. You grab your book and sit in your designated corner to eat in the loud cafeteria.
You feel relaxed when you start eating and open up your book. The loud cafeteria with the chatter of men and women surrounds you. It's kind of calming when you think about it. The laughs, small talk, and clattering cutlery fade in the background around you. This is just what you need after such a long and tiresome day. 
You try to focus on your book but then you are interrupted by someone clearing their throat.
“Is this seat taken?” You glance up from your book, you find him standing there, his presence commanding attention even in the busy room. Lieutenant Riley is looking down at you with a food tray in his hands. He refers to the seat across from you and you shake your head no. You try to avoid eye contact when he sits down, still feeling annoyed from earlier. 
He lifts his balaclava over his mouth and you both eat in silence. There’s a growing tension around you both. 
You eat your food and busy yourself with your book, however you can feel him looking at you. He ate in silence, his eyes occasionally meeting yours before darting away.
It was irritating.
Earlier he was being rude and barely talking to you and now he was acting timid, the audacity. You started to pick up the pace and eat your lunch faster.
Then he interrupted his silence with his deep sultry voice.
“I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was disrespectful to you when you were only trying to help. I'm sorry. I've honestly been sick and tired of sitting around and doing nothing that I took out my anger on you and for that, I apologize.” It sounded like he practiced this. It makes you smile thinking about the Ghost practicing an apology in the mirror. You can just imagine him practicing and it warms your heart that he put this much energy into an apology.
“Thank you for your apology.” You reply in a soft voice.
There was silence for a while but it was interrupted by your voice.
“Um…I know it's hard, not being able to do the things you used to be able to do. I'm sure soon you will be able to get back to your routine and do everything that you want to do… and more. If You need to talk to someone, you can always come and see me. ” You tell him, a bit timidly. All you want to bring comfort to him and reassure him.
“Thank you,” he replies.
“No problem Luitenent” you respond.
“Call me, Simon.”
That was the end of the conversation. There was a soft smile on your face, and you both sat in a comfortable silence, taking quick glances at each other.
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Week 6
This next visit was much more casual than the previous two. Throughout the whole week before this upcoming visit, he’s been stopping by your office. 
In the beginning, he would just stop and say hello and indulge you with some small talk. Nothing more than checking in on you and asking how your day was. However lately, he’s been getting comfortable here. He’s claimed the large decorative leather chair in the corner of your office, closest to your desk. 
He would just sit there and talk to you about anything and everything. Conversations went from favorite foods to his most recent reads to how long you’ve been an RN. 
The other nurses in the building have gotten used to his presence in your office. When they come to visit or drop something off, his presence doesn’t throw them off anymore.  They’re used to the large man sitting comfortably in your office. 
Today was no different, he stopped by in the morning and you both got to chatting. An hour went by when it felt like mere minutes. Time flew by so fast that you almost forgot about his checkup.
“Oh!” You exclaim. “I'm such an idiot, I almost forgot why you were here Simon.” you shoot up from your desk and walk over to the examination table, slapping it twice with a big grin on your face
“Alright Simon, let’s get this over with!” You sell him with a large smile on your face. 
Simon slaps his knees and pushes himself off of the deep and comfortable chair. He makes his way across your office looking at all of the flowers around your office and the Sanrio Characters you have scattered around. 
When he gets to the examination table, just as you're about to move out of the way, he grabs your waist and moves you to the side. He lets his hands linger and he makes eye contact with you as he sits on the chair. 
You're certain he’s smiling under that stupid balaclava.
Cocky bastard. 
You clear your throat and attempt to focus on your work. The checkup only lasts a few minutes, he’s getting so much better. You would be so excited to tell him that he can start getting back to his normal routine, but you're distracted.
Distracted because he’s so touchy. First, he touches your waist, he must know that it has some sort of effect on you because then he touches your clothes. 
During the checkup when you need to do something basic and mindless, he grabs the corner of your coat and rubs yours between his fingers. When you speak to him he’s doing the same with your black scrubs.
“You can start getting back to your regular routine, like training and stuff. Don’t rush it or anything, just …baby steps'' you say, you move yourself to stand in between his legs.
“That right?” He asks but he’s not focused on what you say. He’s focused on your plump lips and you think it’s turning you on. His eyes slowly make their way back to your eyes. 
“Mmmhhh! But nothing too rough.” You reply looking back at him. You feel his hands make their way up your waist. 
“Not even a little rough?” He asks. You both start to lean closer and he takes one hand off of your waist and takes it toward his mask. 
Oh god! What is he doing? Is he going to show his face? Kiss you! Or maybe—
Knock Knock
The loud knock draws your attention away from Simon and you pull yourself away from between his legs.
You clear your throat and attempt to fix yourself even though you two have done nothing. 
“Come in!” You shout, voice cracking a bit. 
One of the more intimidating on-field military nurses enters your office. Unlike you, this nurse is trained for the field and it shows. She is tall with broad muscular shoulders, and she confidently walks into the room with a skeptical look on her face. 
She takes a look at both you and Simon before addressing you. Telling you that your presence is wanted somewhere else. 
“Oh okay… I’ll be there in five ma’am.” You reply and she makes her way out of your office with a raised eyebrow at Simon. 
“Okay, Simon! your next check is in two weeks and that’s your last one, congratulations.” You address Simon trying to make it seem like you don’t remember the moment you two had before you were interrupted. Simon stands and makes his way over to you, stops right in front of you, and towers over you. If he was anyone else you’d give them hell for popping your personal space bubble.
“Alright…Can I see you tomorrow?” he asks, looking down at you. 
“Are you injured?” You ask sarcastically. 
“Got a paper cut. That’s what I get for reading” He shows you his thumb and starts to chuckle. You laugh right along with him. You look up at him and nod, you smile while biting your lip. 
“See you tomorrow Si”
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Week 8
Two months.
He’s known you for two months and he still doesn’t know how to act around you. This past month he’s seen you almost every day constantly visiting you. He feels like every day he’s getting to know you better and better. You’re a genius, graduating high school and college early which explains why you're so young. You love this little Japanese cat thing that’s called Hello Kitty. Your favorite flowers are tulips, and that’s something that stuck out to him. 
Tulips stuck out so much that he used his last day of time off to go out off base and buy you some. Today is his last official visit with you but he most definitely doesn’t want to make it his last time seeing you. He wants to see you more, a lot more. He wants to see you outside of work, he wants to see you outside your work clothes. He wants to see you in jeans, a dress, in his bed—
He shakes his head, trying to stop himself from thinking like that. It’s disrespectful to you, he hasn’t known you for longer than a couple of months, and he can’t think about you that way. 
It’s hard not thinking like that. He thinks about his third visit with you, when you both were rudely interrupted. He thinks about what your waist feels like, what your face looks like. He thinks about it often, especially at night–
He cringes at himself, he feels like a teenage boy who’s never touched a woman. 
He tries to distract himself by looking at the tulips he bought for you. They’re closed and pink with long green stems. They’re beautiful just like you. He doesn’t understand, how someone can be so effortlessly beautiful. 
When you wear makeup or no makeup: beautiful. When you have your hair down and natural, sleek and bone straight, or up in braids, buns, or a scarf: beautiful. He can’t begin to comprehend it. 
Not only are you beautiful on the outside you have the personality of a goddess. You’re kind and compassionate but not afraid to snap back when someone gets out of line. That’s what makes him nervous, the doubts start flooding his mind. 
He’s still staring at the tulips when Soap enters his room. Unannounced. 
Soap comes into his quarters and scatters around the room. He looks in draws and under furniture, he's scattering stuff around as if he lives here. He is tossing his stuff around and looking in places he shouldn't be. Ghost hasn't even looked up, hasn't even acknowledged his presence. Ghost rolls his eyes so far back into his head when he hears Johnny whining to himself. 
“What’re ya lookin’ for Johnny?” He inquires in an irritated tone. 
“Lookin’ for my char–” He cuts himself off as finally looks up at Simon. He sees Simon slouched over his bed looking at the pot with pretty pink tulips and a wide, knowing, mischievous grin appears on his face. He looks like the Cheshire cat.
“Look at you Simon, those for that bird you've become so fond of…”
“Watch it Johnny” Ghost finally looks up, he's not pleased. Johnny continues like a mindless, careless, idiot.
“I've heard the rumors, some field nurse says she saw you two in her office…alone. Good on you Riley. Yer getting old now, ya deserve something like that. Herd shes a beauty too. ” He laughs obnoxiously at his own jokes. He slaps Ghost on the hard on his back and continues searching around his room
Ghost sits in silence for a while, thinking about Johnny’s words, he knows that he is joking, he’s not serious.
‘“Whatdya mean by I deserve something like that?” He finally inquires, the question was practically running around his mind. Johnny continued searching around the room as he answered his question.
“Well you know, ya have had a hard life. Yer always helping people, always trying to be the best, and ya never really had that soft life. I know ya don't think it but yer a good man and you deserve a good woman. We don't live forever so think ya should take the risk and do what you have to do… Are you sure you don't have my charger? He asked after giving some of the most meaningful advice that he'd ever heard.
“Get out,” he replied annoyed by his short attention span.
“Maybe Gaz has it,” he says and leaves the room as if nothing happened.
Those words resonate with Simon and he thinks about them for a long time. The time of the appointment was getting closer and closer. He couldn't stop thinking about it, about what he was going to say to you. He wanted to make it meaningful, he wanted to ask you out on a date. 
He wanted your friendship to continue and he wanted your relationship to grow and become more and more personal. He hasn't done this in a long time and he wanted it to mean something. 
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
15 minutes.
He had 15 minutes to figure out what the hell he was going to do.
As he made his way down the familiar hallway toward your office, every step seemed to quicken the pace of his heartbeat. The clock was counting down, each second would go by, getting closer to the moment. In his hands, he held a bouquet of vibrant tulips. He knows that he is catching the eyes of the people around him but each person he passed seemed to fade into the background.
It felt like when he visited you the first time, his hands were sweating and he was nervous. He says ‘hello’ to the woman at the front desk. Even though her attitude has always been rude and uptight however he thanks her every day for sending him to office number 222. The number that completely changed his life.
Now, standing just a few steps away from your door, his mind blanked, and his carefully rehearsed words were completely forgotten. Doubt starting to flood his veins. His hands are sweating again, and his heart is beating a mile a minute. He doesn't know if he can do this, he feels like it is a mistake but his feet won't stop. 
They won't stop because even though his brain is telling him to stop, his heart won't let him.
It's been years since he's ever felt this nervous, he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. He finally arrives in front of your door and holds the flowers behind his back. He gets ready to knock and says a silent prayer to whoever or whatever higher being is listening.  
He knocks.
He waits a beat and then he hears your beautiful voice say “Come on in.”
Right as you say that without thinking Simon impulsively rips off his balaclava off his face and opens the door. He watches as you slowly look up and he swears he sees a natural glow around you. 
“Hi, how can I help you?”
He doesn't respond, instead, he slowly brings the tulips to his front and presents them to you with a soft smile. You look at the man and he watches as you raise an eyebrow, it's like he can see the clogs turning in your head. Then he sees the pieces being put together in your head and your face lights up.
“Simon?” You ask with a gorgeous smile.
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚⋆❀⋆˚୨୧⋆。 ˚⋆
giggling and kicking my feet
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