♡

“Y’know,” Zooble’s voice cuts through the comfortable silence of the warm afternoon. Gangle looks up from her sketchbook. “We’ve been together for months, and yet I’ve only really seen you like 25% of the time.”

“You see me all the time, you’re staring right now,” Gangle quips, playing dumb.

“You know what I mean.” Zooble gently gestures towards her cotton mask.

She raises an eyebrow at them. “It just feels easier this way.”

When Gangle looks at herself without a mask on, all she can see are her flaws. The scar on her philtrum, the misalignment of her teeth and jaws, and how her nose is flat and crooked to one side. She can hear the comments from her surgeons echoing in the back of her mind.

“Recessed maxilla”

“Scar due for a revision”

“We can find a clinic to even out your lips if you’d like.”

Having the mask is a comfort to her and makes her feel less vulnerable. Something she is still learning to be comfortable with.

But when Zooble looks at Gangle, the uncovered Gangle, all they can see is magic. The way her eyes scrunch in the corners when she is happy, her adorably unique nose, the beautiful color and shape of her lips, and how they feel to kiss.

“Gangle, how many times do I gotta say that I like how you look before you actually believe me?”

She shrugs and fidgets with her pencil, trying to come up with a non-self-deprecating response. Through her connections with others, she has come to realize that harping on her own self-disdain quickly grows tiresome and pathetic.

The two sit sprawled out on Gangle’s bed, their art supplies strewn about. Drawing together is her favorite type of date. Zooble could use some practice, but they prefer to watch their girlfriend draw instead. Gangle continues the piece she has been working on, humming to herself as Zooble watches her careful sketching.

Gangle grabs the water bottle from the nightstand. She fumbles with the bottom of the white cotton mask, trying to show as little of her face as possible while drinking. She tips her head back a little too far in the process, sputtering and coughing on her sip. Zooble quickly moves the bottle away to the nightstand. They softly pat and rub her back in a calming manner.

“Hey- easy! You ok?” they ask worriedly.

“I’m okay! Just drank too quickly!” Gangle stammers. She quickly adjusts the mask back over her chin, a feeling of safety washing over her again. She clears her throat again with a loud “a-hem!”. Zooble’s touch is still warm and comforting against her.

“You really don’t need to wear your mask with me. Like- it looks like a pain in the ass,” Zooble reassures. Gangle rolls her eyes. Zooble reaches their other hand out to cup her face, on the border where cloth meets skin at her jawline. They turn her face and look into her shiny, round eyes. Her hand grabs their wrist, as if to protest, but the grip softens as soon as it latches.

Gangle pouts, though Zooble merely notices a shift in her brows from outside the mask. Their eyebrows raise curiously.

“I just… It feels so raw. And embarrassing. I don’t exactly love what’s under there most days.”

“I do.”

“I know.”

“I really do,” they emphasize. “I love how you look. I love it when you let me in.” Zooble brushes their thumb over her cheek. The moment stretches into soft and quiet intimacy as the two realize how close they are on the bed.

“Please?” Their expression is soft as they stroke the fabric, but pleading. Their eyes beg her to trust them, to help her overcome her discomfort and insecurity.

Gangle swallows and then nods.

“Okay, you can take it off. Just… be slow. This is still new for me.”

“I’ll only go as far as you let me, promise.”

Gangle takes her hand off Zooble’s. They kiss her on the forehead, and she blushes at the soft gesture. They carefully unhook the loops from around her ears and slide the mask off, gently placing it aside on the covers. They take their time looking at her softly, not rushing to speak, ogle, or touch. Their hand eventually returns to her cheek, and this time she leans into it, kissing their palm. Zooble loves how her lips look, and especially how they feel. Her lower lip naturally pouts slightly, and her upper lip is scarred from her cleft. She almost resembles a kitty, but she doesn’t always care for those slightly infantilizing comparisons. They lean in slowly and kiss her again on the nose.

“You’re so pretty like this, I want to see all of you,” they croon. Gangle blushes deep and giggles. “I love looking at you, you are so perfect, baby,” they continue, almost overwhelming the older woman. They attack her cheeks with smooches that tickle her into fits of giggles.

Gangle’s stomach swirls with butterflies at their partner’s compliments and affections. She squeals and squirms at their kisses, her face growing increasingly hotter from excitement and embarrassment simultaneously. She knows they can see the unevenness of her jaws when she smiles at their affection, and see all her other asymmetries.

It’s terrifying. It’s invigorating.

When Zooble pulls back, Gangle’s eyes are slightly glassy. Zooble isn’t sure if she is starstruck or about to cry. They back up a little further, allowing her to decide how close to be.

“Are you okay? Too much?”

Gangle leans towards them instead. “More,” She whispers with a shy grin, “I want you.” Her hands find their waist, and she pulls them down to be positioned above her. She lies awkwardly strewn on the bed, holding her lover close as they resume kissing.

Zooble grins. Their kisses deepen slightly, gravitating to her mouth. Her tongue slips slightly inside their mouth. Zooble tastes almost like nothing, maybe slightly like cherry cola, but to Gangle, it is ambrosial. They suck and nip gently on Gangle’s bottom lip, releasing with a soft pop. She gasps softly, licking over the slight teeth marks. They have never kissed quite this long before. Her insides feel fuzzy, and her skin feels like a live wire ready to catch her on fire at any moment. This is addictive.

Zooble’s hands trail lower, gripping her hips. Gangle suddenly jolts stiffly against the sheets, her eyebrows scrunching slightly. She hisses softly through her teeth. Zooble’s hands fly up in slight panic.

“What’s wrong?”

“Um… one of my surgeries involved my hip. And even though it was a while ago, it still feels a little weird,” she swallows. “I’m okay, though!” Zooble’s hands return to her waist, this time exhibiting more caution than before.

“Does it hurt?”

“It’s more numb than anything. Nerve damage, I think.”

The worry on Zooble’s face shifts into fascination. They want to see it. They want to feel it. They want her to feel it. They want her to feel safe in being vulnerable. They want to make her feel good. Their thumb rubs softly on Gangle’s waist, and she shifts into their touch. She feels so comfortably pliant in their hands. She never wants this feeling to end, the electricity and the vulnerability and the love.

“Can I look?” Their eyes are hungry, but not lustful. They are already proud of her for letting them see her, to kiss her. Encouraging Gangle to open up more makes them feel even prouder.

“It looks- um.. yeah, okay! Be gentle, okay? I’ll tell you if it hurts, so don’t worry.”

Only hesitating for a barely noticeable second, Gangle lifts her shirt slightly, giving Zooble access to the waistband of her pants. She looks slightly away from them, her exposed stomach making her feel shy. The cool air of the room is ticklish, sending a shiver through her, starting at her waist and ending at the crown of her head. She can practically feel the current snake its way through her at lightning speed.

“There we go,” Zooble whispers as they rotate her waist in their hands, giving themself a better view of where they are about to unwrap her. She settles comfortably into the position.

“Just gonna see how pretty you are, okay? You got this”. Gangle whimpers quietly at the sudden shift in Zooble’s tone. Their voice lowers slightly, growing softer and sweeter all at once. They almost sound professional. In theory, Gangle thinks that it should scare her or at least make her uncomfortable. But instead, heat pools in her stomach, and her thighs shift against each other.

God, what the hell is wrong with me? And can they please talk like that again?

Zooble’s warm fingers hook the waistband of her pants and pull down slightly, resting them on her lower hip. Gangle sucks in a breath. This is entirely new to her, to let someone so special to her see her scars. Her head swims with insecurity and fear.

The surgery on Gangle’s hip has left a noticeable indent in her bone. She hates how it makes her waist look lopsided, but from how she is lying on the bed, neither she nor Zooble can tell. A pale scar runs along the indentation, appearing as a faint pinkish line.

Is it going to hurt when they touch it? It doesn’t hurt when I do. What if it looks ugly to them? Gangle’s thoughts race, but quickly quiet down as she feels Zooble’s touch on the sensitive area. The warm feelings left by Zooble’s fingers linger after, like they have made a physical mark on her map. They are reassociating the sensitive area with pleasure and romantic connection, not pain. Gangle’s brows unscrunch slightly.

“How beautiful, it’s like lightning. Like the root of a plant.” Their compliments cut through her like Cupid’s arrow. Gangle blushes. Zooble brushes their thumb over the scar, and she shivers. The electric feeling returns, but this time lingers around the scar more than snaking through her.

“How does that feel?” They continue slow, soft strokes over the area, not increasing the pressure. Gangle lifts her hip into their hand, chasing the feeling that their touch gives to her. She lets out soft gasps and sighs as they stroke.

“Feels s’good… don’t stop…” Gangle whispers, face turned away from Zooble out of shyness. Her skin is unbelievably soft and warm to their touch as they palpate around the indent.

Palpating. Jesus Christ.

Their touch feels almost clinical in its worship. Gangle bites her lip. The sudden thoughts of Zooble doctoring her, examining her, and treating her race through her mind. She has never even thought about this side of herself before. She has never thought to associate her medical experiences with intimacy, but now it is all she can think about. How couldn’t it be?

“Your scar is so very pretty, so soft. Can I kiss it?” Zooble pleads, looking up at her with wide eyes. Gangle nods excitedly. They plant soft kisses up and down her hip, trying to use as little pressure as possible. The implications of their lips touching such a delicate place intensify the electric feeling in Gangle’s body tenfold. Heat blossoms in her core as she twitches against the bed. Zooble makes eye contact and licks a long stripe along the scar. Gangle lets out a higher whimper and covers her face. The cool sensation of air hitting the wet spot sends shivers through her. Her hips twitch harder, and she tips her head back from the sensations flowing through her.

“D-do that again!” Gangle pleads. Zooble obeys, dragging their tongue slightly firmer against the scar. The strange nerve sensations mingle with the tingling in her stomach; she can’t help but choke out another whine.

“So perfect, I’m so proud, thank you for showing me,” Zooble praises as they give a final kiss to the mark. They carefully pull her pants back up. Gangle releases her shirt from her iron grip and sits up against the pillows. She is visibly flustered, her cheeks pink and hair messied. Zooble’s pupils are blown out, their cheeks equally as pink. The entire world could go black at this moment, and they still would only look at each other.

Gangle smiles to herself and picks at the hem of her shirt. A spark has been lit in her from having her mask off for this long, and Zooble is still loving her despite it. A spark has been lit in her mind as well. She likes the thrill of feeling vulnerable in tandem with their love. She wants more. She wants familiarity. She wants new.

“Um… Zooble..? Y-you can look at me… more if you want.” Through her stammering, Gangle has a cheeky look on her face. Zooble’s heart skips a beat. The girl who always tries to hide herself is now leaning closer to them, inviting them in. They are utterly awestruck by their girlfriend.

“I am looking, baby. You’re beautiful,” Zooble smiles, but Gangle slightly pouts from their lack of understanding.

“No, like- I w-want you to look here,” Gangle points at her lips, her finger slightly shaking from nerves. Zooble immediately picks up on what the woman really wants.

“Ohhh, you want me to examine you?” Zooble quips, raising an eyebrow at the girl.

Gangle’s heart jumps at the word “examine”. It sends fear into her, memories of countless clinic visits, procedures, and pain. But it isn’t clinical, this is Zooble. Zooble isn’t going to look at it from the perspective of “What needs to be fixed?” They are going to look with gratitude and love.

“D-don’t say it like that! But, um, yeah- I think…” Gangle babbles awkwardly as she fidgets more with her shirt. The nerves feel much more real towards this than with Zooble just looking at her hip, but she is also more excited than she has ever felt before.

“Sorry, love,” Zooble apologizes. “Can I go wash my hands?” Gangle nods. They excuse themself to clean up in the bathroom. Gangle can hear the water running as her ears ring. They burn hot as she thinks about just how strange this is for her. She hates being this open, yet she is inviting them in further. She is inviting them inside her mouth. Even though she hates looking in there. But something about how Zooble coaxes her mask off, how they look at her scar, how they touch it, makes her entire body buzz with a newfound excitement.

When Zooble returns, they sit next to her, their back against the pillows. They sit close to the bedside lamp and cross their legs. They lay a flat, round stuffed animal over their lap like a pillow. The soft lamplight illuminates their lap, and Gangle realizes she is going to be fully seen this way. She turns to look at them and is met with a slightly anxious look in their eye. The mutual feeling comforts her, and her shoulders soften. She can faintly smell her hand soap (and a little bit of her body spray) from them.

Zooble takes a deep breath. Gangle mirrors.

“Can you lie in my lap?” Zooble pats the pillow. Gangle nods. She crawls closer and rests her head back on the stuffed animal. She takes a breath, sinking her weight onto them, and relaxes.

“There we go.”

Zooble strokes Gangle’s hair as she settles. She reaches across the bed and grabs a smaller stuffed animal and tucks it under her arm for comfort. She isn’t necessarily afraid, but the comfort object helps with the nerves. She looks up, and Zooble looks down at her with a faint smile. Their hair fans out around them as they lean down, casting a shadow on their features. The lamplight reflects off their piercings and some of their makeup. She is at a loss for words, and the position she is in makes her insides burn up even hotter.

Zooble doesn’t want to rush or scare sweet Gangle. They don’t shove themself inside her mouth, to her relief. They start by tracing her jawline, which springs a faint blush on her cheeks. They gently tap their index finger on the woman’s chin.

“Open, baby.”

Gangle obeys, gently parting her lips. A blush creeps onto her cheeks. If she wasn’t sure she was lying down, the room would feel like it’s spinning.

“Good girl, let me see.”

Zooble starts by steadying her lower jaw with both hands. Her head buzzes louder. The feeling of her jaw being held open is… intense. They tip her head back slowly. Gangle can barely feel the pads of their fingers on her chin with how delicately they’re touching her. They only study her at first, looking at her teeth, tongue, cheeks, and throat. They hold her lower jaw with one hand as they slip a finger inside. They press down softly on her lower lip, exposing her teeth. They tentatively trace her gums with the pad of their finger. Gangle’s already drooling. Her knees shift together, and she lets out a slightly shaky breath.

Zooble pauses. Gangle gives a small, quick nod, signaling her comfort. Her teeth look near “perfect” on the bottom: straight, clean, in good shape. Zooble can’t help but stare silently for a moment, admiring both the teeth and how good she is being for them.

“Your teeth are so pretty, honey,” Zooble croons, “Doing so good.”

Gangle chokes out a sound between a giggle and a whine, muffled by Zooble’s finger still resting in her warm, wet mouth. They follow the curve of her teeth, keeping their touch light. Their finger sweeps along the backside of her teeth, circling her molars and grazing the fronts.

“Sharp too,” They whisper as they press down slightly on an incisor. The faint pressure of their finger is dizzying. She hears them whisper to themself as they press down on each one, counting them. Moving from the front to back, mapping out the texture and sensations as they go. The further back they touch, the more pronounced her soft sounds become.

“Shhhh, still ok? I’m almost done with these,” Zooble coos, petting Gangle’s hair with the hand that was previously holding her jaw. Gangle hums in contentment. The sensations are nothing new to her, but the contexts of them are. Edging the line between making her anxious and making her soaking wet, she struggles to contain both feelings.

Zooble presses the pad of their thumb to Gangle’s tongue. Gangle pauses at the new intrusion, daring herself to make the move she so desperately wants to. She pulls the digit deeper, slowly lapping at her partner’s soft skin. The small kitten-licks she makes remind her of how Zooble uses their tongue on her. She squirms.

“Godddd, you’re perfect,” Zooble half-moans, half-whispers. They swirl around, taking in every texture and sensation they can.

Zooble slips their finger out slowly. A shiny trail of saliva follows, and they both notice. Zooble spreads the moisture on Gangle’s lips, eliciting a soft sound from her. They lean down to kiss her once on the crown of her head, a silent praise. Gangle’s emotions are almost overwhelming in their intensity. Her thoughts dizzy her as she contemplates these new sensations. Zooble’s hands rest just barely on her chin, tracing the soft curve of her jaw.

“Can I look here now?” Zooble quietly asks, tapping their index finger softly on Gangle’s upper lip, just under her scar. Her shoulders tense slightly, knowing her biggest insecurities were right there. She parts her lips to answer, but shuts them quickly.

“I- I want to. It’s just- it’s gonna feel more, and I’m nervous,” Gangle stutters. Her chest squeezes at the thought of Zooble pressing on her scarred gums and lip, looking at her uneven teeth. A twisting feeling churns in her stomach, and a tingly feeling buzzes in her head.

“I get it,” Zooble assures, stroking her hair, “You’ve done so well, we can stop whenever. I’m really proud of you”.

Gangle blushes, and the squeezing feeling returns with a hint of electricity this time. She shifts slightly against the cushion in Zooble’s lap, making herself comfortable. Her eyes lock with theirs again.

“…More,” Gangle whispers after a moment, “Look more.”

Zooble slips their finger between Gangle’s lips again and presses up on the points of her teeth. She laps playfully at the digit. The feeling of being prodded at where she’s most sensitive sends an energy through her that’s hard to describe.

Zooble’s motions aren’t dissimilar from how they touched her bottom teeth, but they’re slightly softer. Gangle feels tense and loose, scared and turned on: a walking contradiction. They finish tapping the points of her teeth, and pause for a second.

“Your scar is really pretty,” Zooble coos. Gangle opens her mouth to cut them off, but they interject, “Like lightning!”

“You make me feel like lightning right now,” Gangle whispers sheepishly.

“Good.”

The tone of Zooble’s voice makes Gangle’s heart race. God, that’s hot.

Zooble gently pinches Gangle’s lip between their fingers and flips it up, only enough to see. Gangle stiffens, but stays silent. The motion tugs slightly at the makeshift frenulum connecting her lip to the gums of her maxilla. It doesn’t hurt, but it feels really familiar.

“You alright? Am I hurting you?” Zooble freezes at the soft whine coming from Gangle.

Gangle hums a negative response. Zooble looks at the zig-zagged pattern of her scar reflected on the inside of Gangle’s lip, then rests it back.

“Good girl, I know that was scary.”

Gangle wouldn’t necessarily describe herself as scared, but the sensation did bring up scary memories. She nuzzles her cheek into the cushion supporting her head, in an attempt to nuzzle Zooble and accept their praise and comfort. They respond by cupping her cheek and stroking softly. Her eyes fall hazy.

“Can I feel one more thing, then we’re done?” Zooble asks, their strokes not slowing.

“Yeah,” Gangle replies, love-drunk and almost mewling. “It feels nice.”

Zooble’s index finger pushes past Gangle’s lips and teeth.

“Can you open wider, hun?” Zooble cups her jaw with their free hand, and puts just enough pressure to encourage the woman to obey and open. “That’s a good girl.”

Zooble’s touch reaches Gangle’s palate, careful not to tickle. It’s full of ridges, and Zooble swears they can feel a hole. It doesn’t reach back as far as theirs does; they’re careful not to gag her. That isn’t the point. Face-fucking Gangle was never what this was about, but she’s whining under their fingers like they are.

“Shhh, pretty girl, I’m done!” Zooble coos as they pull out. Gangle’s eyes are wide and glossy, her expression a mix between zoned and blissed out.

“I’m okay,” Gangle reassures, “It’s just- it’s way more sensitive and familiar than I expected!”

“I hear you hun, I’m still so proud.”