Summary: You get your wisdom teeth removed and Harry looks after you.
Pairing: Boyfriend Harry x Reader
Word count: 2,290
A/N: Thank you to the lovely follower who requested this! I had fun writing this. hope you enjoy it!
The day you had been dreading was finally here; the day were had to have your wisdom teeth removed. You were grateful that Harry was able to take the day off to come with you and look after you. To say you were nervous was an understatement and you couldn’t hide it.
“You’re shaking love” Harry remarked as he looked across at you for a brief moment while he was driving and placing his hand on top of yours to help comfort you.
You hadn’t noticed were visibly shaking but you looked down and saw your shaky hands, you sighed in frustration.
“I hate this” and Harry smiled sympathetically “I know you do babe. Just think, within an hour it’ll all be done and we’ll be back home. I’ll be with you the whole time, you can squeeze my hand as hard as you want” he offered and you smiled over at him.
“Fancy switching places with me?” You joked and he stifled a laugh “if I could I would babe but you’re gonna be just fine, think happy thoughts” he said, which was much easier said than done.
You weren’t being ‘put under’ for it since your dentist had assured you wouldn’t need it and that the teeth were “easily accessible” whatever that meant in dentist talk so you were more nervous that you would be awake the entire time.
He pulled up outside the dental practice and turned off the engine. You were sitting with your head against the headrest, trying to hold it together. You let out a shaky breath to try and slow your heart rate down.
“Breathe baby, you’re okay. Take a big deep breath in” Harry instructed as he helped you slow down your breathing. You did as Harry said and held it for a few seconds “and slowly out” he said and you blew out, trying to calm down.
“Better?” He asked and you nodded, keeping your eyes closed. “It’ll be okay, I know it’s scary but I won’t leave your side alright? I know you can do this” he said brushing a piece of hair away from your face.
You sighed once again and opened your eyes to see Harry looking at you sympathetically.
“Come on, let’s get it over with” he said as he encouraged you. You knew you had to do it, there was no way of getting out of it so you pulled yourself out of the car and took Harry’s hand for support as you walked into the dentist.
If your stomach wasn’t already doing somersaults before, it certainly was now that the all too familiar clinical smell hit you like a ton of bricks as soon as you stepped inside.
“I feel sick” you whispered to Harry “it’s okay, just try to slow your breathing down. Go and sit down and I’ll check you in” he said placing a kiss on your forehead.
You walked over to the waiting room and took a seat in one of the empty chairs. Luckily, there was only one older man reading a paper who was sitting in there with you.
You looked at your phone for the time, it was 9:55am, it only 5 minutes until your appointment. Your stomach felt queasy and you had started shaking again. Your heart stopped when you heard the waiting room door open but relaxed slightly when you seen it was only Harry coming to join you.
“You okay?” He said quietly while he was coming to join you.
“I’m great, never been better” you replied sarcastically and he laughed.
“Alright missy, enough with the sarcasm”
“Sorry, ignore me” you said to him.
“I’ll never ignore you” he said putting his arm around you for comfort. “How about after this we head home and have a movie day on the sofa?”
You nodded in response and it was quiet for a few seconds until the waiting room door opened again.
A young dental nurse came in and called for the man who was reading the paper. You were dreading your name being called next.
The thought of a man pulling 4 teeth out of your mouth while you were awake in just under 5 minutes, terrified you so much so that you were ready to stand up and leave, that was until the waiting room door being opened and you heard your name being called.
You must have looked like a rabbit in headlights as Harry chuckled a little next to you.
“Come on love” Harry said as he stood up and held his hand out for you to take.
You stood up, taking his hand and looking towards the door to see an older looking lady with dark brown hair which was pinned back with a claw clip.
“Morning darling! How are you today?” She asked kindly as you approached.
“Fine thank you” you replied sheepishly.
“Gorgeous day today isn’t it! I just love the sunshine, I wish it could stay all year round” she said cheerily as she led you back to the room. Her name tag read 'Anne' which comforted you a little bit as she sort of reminded you of Harry’s mum, Anne, who always chatted away and made you feel comfortable.
She was a bubbly woman who looked to be in her 50’s with dark brunette hair.
You couldn’t really concentrate on what she was saying however as you were just trying your best not to faint as you walked through the corridor.
Approaching the room, Anne held the door open for you “Here we are, on you two go in”
You walked in and a new wave of nausea hit you when you saw the dental chair.
“Hi y/n, in you come and take a seat” the dentist who was in his late 40’s said as you and Harry walked in.
You smiled sheepishly and said hello as you took a seat in the chair, Harry introducing himself to the dentist and then sitting down on the little couch that was situated by the window for friends and family.
“How are you today?” He asked as he pulled on a pair of gloves to get started.
“Fine thank you” you replied, your voice shaky as you couldn’t hide the fact you were scared.
“A bit nervous?” He said sensing your fear and you nodded “yeah, I’m not looking forward to it” you said and he smiled sympathetically.
“I completely understand, do you want me to run through how we’ll do it to try and put your mind at ease?”
You nodded and the dentist spent the next 5 minutes talking briefly over how the appointment would go. It did help put your mind at ease a little bit but you stomach was still doing summersaults.
“Think you’re okay to get started?” The dentist asked and you took a deep breath in and nodded your head before you could back out.
“Great, as I said just focus on your breathing the whole time and I’ll try get you out of here as quick as I can” he said which you appreciated.
You let out another shaky breath and tried to hold back tears as you really didn’t want to do this.
“You okay?” Harry asked and you nodded, tears filling your eyes. As soon as he asked you that, you couldn’t stop the tears from falling.
“Come here” he said coming over to hug you as you cried quietly into his shoulder.
“Aw darling, let me get you some tissues” Anne the nurse said when she noticed you crying.
“Talk to us, what are you most nervous about? Is there anything in particular we can do to help you?” She said coming over to you and handing you some tissues.
You thanked her and wiped away your tears. “Just all of it” you said and took a deep breath to try and compose yourself.
“Okay, how about you take a couple of minutes, have some water and we can take it from there? There’s no rush today y/n, take all the time you need. I’ll go and get you a bottle of water” Anne said placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder for comfort.
“We’ll look after you y/n, sit there for a few moments and we’ll start when you’re ready” the dentist said and you thanked him.
You sat with Harry for a few minutes, sipping on the water as he comforted you and hyped you up to get the tooth taken out.
“How are you feeling now?” The dentist said as he came to face you.
“A bit better now thank you, sorry I don’t know what that was I just got overwhelmed” you felt you had to apologise for your earlier emotional outburst.
“Don’t apologise, I don’t want you being upset. Do you feel as though you would be ready to start? It will only take 30 minutes max I promise” the dentist said to you and you looked to Harry who was crouching down by the dental chair.
“You can do this” he encouraged and you took a deep breath and nodded, allowing them to start the procedure.
The procedure actually went better than you thought with the teeth being removed in under 30 minutes. Harry was constantly by your side, rubbing and kissing your hand both as you were getting the injections to numb you and as the teeth were coming out. You were certain without him being there, you wouldn’t have been able to have gotten through it.
You were so relieved when the chair was being brought back up and you saw Harry smiling proudly at you.
“Well done my love, it’s all over with now. Just keep biting on that gauze for me” Anne said.
“You did really well y/n, especially considering how nervous you were. It was a straightforward procedure and the good news is the recovery time is only about a week” the dentist told you.
“I’ll go over some aftercare instructions with you but I’ll give you a leaflet also as I know it can be a lot to take in" The next few moments consisted of the dentist telling you how to look after the extraction sites and things to do and what not to do, not that you were taking it in as you were just relieved it was over and still in a bit of shock of what had just happened but nodded your head in agreement.
“Great. You’re free to go and as I said, if you have any issues, just give us a call”
Harry helped you to your feet and hold on to you as he steadied as you walked back to the car. Although you weren’t put under anaesthesia, you were numb, in shock and overall it was a slightly traumatic experience.
He helped you into the car before jumping round to the driver's side. "How you feeling?" he asked but he already knew the answer.
You rested your head against the window "Like crap" you were numb, certain you were starting to swell and tired from what you had went through.
"You did really well babe, I'm so proud of you. Let's go get a milkshake and we can go home" he said leaning over and placing a kiss on your head.
Within 30 minutes, you were back home in bed with Harry, with your milkshake and a spoon (Harry made sure you didn't use a straw as directed by the dentist) watching Netflix.
Watching 'The Night Agent' on Netflix, you felt your eyes closing as you fell asleep to the sound of the show.
It was the intense pain that eventually woke you up. You groaned as you opened your eyes "you okay y/n?" you heard Harry's voice ask you.
"It hurts" you told him, rubbing your eyes. He got out of bed and headed to the bathroom where he returned with a glass of water and some pain meds you had been prescribed.
"Take these love, it should help with the pain. The dentist said you'd start to feel something after about 4 hours"
"I've been asleep for 4 hours?!"
Harry laughed "You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you. Plus you probably needed the sleep after this morning"
"You fancy some soup? You'll be starving no doubt" he asked you as you took the painkillers.
You heard your stomach grumbled so agreed to some soup. "Yes please"
He made you some soup and sat in bed with you while you ate it before he ran you a bath. "I'm gonna go get you some ice babe, you're starting to swell" Harry said after your bath while you two were cuddling on the couch that night.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and you literally resembled Theodore from Alvin and the Chipmunks. "Fuck" you muttered as Harry walked back through "Caught a glimpse of yourself?" he laughed as he handed you the ice pack.
"I look like a chipmunk Harry"
"You're a very cute little chipmunk though. The dentist said the swelling was normal for a day or 2 so you'll be my little chipmunk for the next few days"
"I wasn't even paying attention to what he was saying about aftercare. I'll need to phone tomorrow and ask" You told Harry as you couldn't remember a thing they had told you.
"Luckily for you, you have the best boyfriend in the world who took notes" he said showing you his phone with a list of bullet pointed instructions. "Don't worry about it, I'll look after you babe" Harry said kissing your slightly swollen cheeks.
You smiled at him. You were so lucky to have someone as kind and thoughtful as Harry in your life.
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The Patient
MDNI!!!!
Summary: As a dental hygienist for six years, nothing throws off Jean Kirstein. Until he meets you, his newest patient.
Pairings: afab reader x Jean
Warnings: lots of teasing, SMUT, oral of course because it's dentistry
Word count: ~8,000 (I uh, got carried away with this one)
Author's note: To my sister wife, @babypaloma, plz enjoy this time with our husband!! Also you should all know this is my first time writing true smut, plz be nice to me.
As a dental hygienist for six years, nothing throws off Jean Kirstein. He works at a small clinic in western Mitras, mostly patients under the age of 50 who live and work in the city. Though it's fairly relaxed, Jean has seen it all – one time, a seed stuck in a patient's retainer grew into a sprout. He's also seen rotting flesh inside a patient's mouth. Thankfully, those are rare cases.
But Jean is never phased by the unhinged things he's witnessed in people's mouths. He got into the profession simply because he likes helping people – he spends more time with the patients than the actual dentist. And he finds the science fascinating.
Jean has never been phased until he sees you.
You're flustered when you burst through the doors of the clinic. He notes how flushed pink your cheeks are and how wild your hair is from the wind. Outside, a fall storm rages. Bright orange, red and yellow leaves swirl around and slap the rain-soaked window. Though it's mid-morning, the storm has darkened the skies.
Jean hovers behind Sasha, the office manager, to see who his next patient is. Sasha opens the schedule on the computer and the cursor hovers over a woman's name. It's someone he doesn't recognize, and Jean remembers all his patients – so you must be new.
Sasha calls your name and Jean's eyes lock with yours as you dart up to the desk and apologize for being late.
“I didn't expect the storm today,” you say and peel off your soaking wet jacket.
Something unfamiliar jolts through Jean's body head to toe as you reveal a form-fitting shirt underneath your jacket. It's not inherently sexual, not at all, but with the way the rain drips off the ends of your hair onto your shirt – warmth courses through Jean's body and he's not quite sure why.
Your name rolls off Jean's tongue with ease. He's frozen as you lock eyes with him.
“I'm ready for you,” he says with a warm smile.
“Great.” You return his smile with bright eyes.
A shiver runs down Jean's spine. Before he loses his composure, he turns on his heel and leads you down to the exam room.
“After you,” he gestures and can't help but sneak a peak at your ass.
Keep it professional, Jean reminds himself. This certainly isn't the first time he's had an attractive patient. But something about you feels different.
He's about to run through all the routine questions for a new patient, but he notices most of your chart is already filled out – your name, number, address, etc.
“Are you a new patient?” Jean asks, perplexed.
“Ah, yes and no,” you explain. “I went to a clinic under the same system in eastern Mitras, but I just moved, so now I'm here.”
“Gotcha, same system, different clinic.” Jean notes that your emergency contact is a woman's name – Pieck Finger. Either you don't have a serious significant other – or you're not interested in men at all. There's no relationship listed, but he can add one.
“And what's Pieck's relationship to you?” Jean clears his throat.“Friend, roommate, partner?”
“Oh – friend and roommate,” you answer from the exam chair. Jean nods and adds that note into your chart. Of course, it's still a possibility that you're dating someone, but he's not exactly sure how to ask. Or if he should. No, Jean knows he shouldn't. It's not professional. Dr. Levi Ackerman would throttle him.
“And what brought you to the western side?” He asks and pulls up your dental records.
“Pieck and I just wanted to explore a different part of the city,” you answer and shrug.
“Yeah? How you like it here so far?” Jean mindlessly scrolls through your records. He's skimming them, stalling for time to chat with you, to learn more about you beyond what's in your chart.
“Love it,” you emphasize. “The eastern side was a bit too corporate for me. I like all the small shops around here.”
Jean swivels in his chair to turn to you. “So you don't miss the east side at all? Nothing tying you there?” This is about as close as he can get to asking you if you have a boyfriend without making it inappropriate.
“Nope.” You make direct eye contact with Jean. The mischievous glimmer in your eyes sends ripples up and down his body. “That's the great part about moving to a new place. I'm open and available for anything.” Heat rises to Jean's face. He didn't expect you to answer so confidently. He puts on his face mask on to cover up his blushing face. Well, that answers that, he thinks.
“Oh by the way,” Jean says as he realizes there was something in your chart worth noting. He turns back to the computer screen to double check. “Just a heads up that next time you come in, we'll have to do updated x-rays.”
“Ugh.”
Jean chuckles. “Sensitive gag reflex?” The words are out of his mouth before he realizes the implications of what he asked. He didn't mean it like that though. Plenty of patients struggle with sensitive gag reflex, so it's not something he's thought of as inherently sexual. But with you on his exam chair? It's a totally different connotation.
“Oh, very,” you drawl. Jean's eyes practically pop out of his skull. He's relieved that he's looking at the computer screen and not you. Not while he's wondering exactly how sensitive your gag reflex is, especially if -
No, no, NO, Jean reprimands himself. He clears his throat again.
“Alright then.” He's not sure how to segue out of that. He pulls on a new pair of gloves and gets to work.
It's no exaggeration for Jean to say you have the prettiest mouth he's ever seen. He's glad that he has several years of dental cleaning experience and can turn his brain on autopilot. If he were less experienced, he might get distracted. Since you're unable to talk, Jean loses himself in his work, moving from one tooth to the next to remove plaque. There's not much too of it – he can tell you keep up with your regular cleanings.
After a couple minutes, Jean wipes the scaler off and returns to your mouth, which you've closed. Obedient, you open your mouth as Jean moves closer to you – and you lick a gloved finger tip. He freezes.
Did that really just happen?
No, that had to be an accident.
But you're making direct eye contact with him again, as if presenting a challenge.
Jean clears his throat, again, and tries to ignore the faint pulsing in between his legs.
Get your shit together, Kirstein, he berates himself.
He continues his work, but Jean's finger tip is still warm where you licked him. After a few more minutes, he's finished with the plaque removal.
“Nice,” he says and switches to the polisher. “I can tell you're pretty good about coming in for appointments.”
“I am a pretty good girl about that,” you answer in a low voice.
Jean gulps.
He turns to you and rolls his chair closer to yours.
“Um – ready?” He holds the polisher in one hand.
“Ready.” You lick your lips and open your mouth.
The faint pulsing in between Jean's legs throbs as he imagines what your mouth would look like wrapped around his dick.
His mental filter is destroyed.
Jean is a goner.
He forces himself to focus on polishing your teeth, even though his eyes are pulling him to sneak a peak at your cleavage. What he wouldn't give to rip his gloves off and trace your body while you lie on the exam chair.
Jean is grateful that you can't possibly see the raging boner under his long, white coat.
After he's done polishing your teeth, Jean gives you a swig of water and places the suction in your mouth to finish up. You hold on to the suction as it cleans out the water in your mouth.
Jean's hand trembles as he holds it inside your mouth. You hold onto it for far longer than necessary.
“Mmmm,” you hum and gaze at Jean with lazy eyes.
His heart pounds.
He wants to make you hum like that again.
With his fingers, his tongue, his cock, anything.
“Alright, how we doin'???” Dr. Hange Zoe bursts in to greet you two.
You open your mouth and Jean quickly removes the suction.
“Good,” you both answer at the same time.
“Can I take a look?” Dr. Zoe plops onto the other chair and rolls toward you. Jean tears himself away and busies himself with going over your chart on the computer again. “Any issues, Jean?”
“Nope, she's perfect,” he answers. And he means it. He's not quite sure what it is pulling him toward you – your bold attitude, your confidence, your sparkling eyes, and most obviously, your plush lips. Jean folds his hands in his lap, silently begging Dr. Zoe to stay focused on you and not his still present boner.
“Wow, you've got a great set of teeth!” They exclaim. “No risk of cavities anywhere. I'm not worried about anything. We really don't see mouths like this every day, do we Jean?”
“Um, uh – no, we don't,” Jean stutters. He stares at your phone number in your chart. It would be all too easy to write it down while Dr. Zoe was examining you.
But he couldn't – he shouldn't – cross that line. No, he's not some perv.
“I think we're all good here,” Dr. Zoe says and removes their gloves. “Jean boy, why don't you schedule our fine patient's next appointment?” They run off to see the next patient before waiting for a response. Jean pulls up the schedule and clicks through to the spring.
“It'll be the usual six months out,” he explains. “How's Friday morning again?”
“Sounds like a date. Though I was hoping for sooner than six months.”
Jean's mouth goes dry.
“Yeah, standard procedure, it's too bad. . .” he trails off and sneaks a peak at you behind his shoulder. You're sitting up now and grinning like a devil. “Anyways, I'll walk you out?” Thankfully, his boner has mostly dissipated. Mostly. He folds his hand in front of his crotch just in case. “Any plans for the weekend?”
“I haven't made too many friends on this side of town yet. The weekend might be a good opportunity though. Actually - I'll be at the bar down the street Saturday night.”
“Oh really?” Jean's voice squeaks ever so slightly. He knows exactly what bar you're talking about. After shifts, he and Sasha sometimes stop there and meet up with a few of their other friends.
“Uh huh,” you nod slowly and grab your still damp jacket from the rack. Jean towers over you as you slowly zip it up. “I guess I'll see you in six months – or maybe sooner.” You wink as you dash out the door before Jean has a chance to say goodbye.
Like a zombie, he walks back behind the desk over to Sasha.
“Um, how much time before my next patient?” He asks and leans over to see the schedule on her computer.
Sasha whirls around. “I have a more important question who was that? She sounded like she was begging you to go out with her!” Her amber eyes beg Jean for more information.
“What now?” A deadpan voice forces Jean to stand up pin straight.
“Nothing, sir!” Though Dr. Levi Ackerman was nearly a foot shorter than Jean, he never ceased to scare the shit out of him. Dr. Ackerman gives Jean the side eye. “I heard something about flirting? I swear to god Kirstein-”
“It was nothing sir, I swear!” Jean tries to explain, terrified that his professional behavior is being questioned, or worse, that Dr. Ackerman will reassign you to another dental hygienist.
“Tch.” Dr. Ackerman stalks off, temporarily satisfied.
Relieved, Jean collapses in the chair next to Sasha.
“Your next appointment is in about 15 minutes – Floch, do you remember him?”
Jean wracks his brain. “Ah yeah, serial cavity offender. Can't wait,” he grumbles.
He wishes all his patients looked like you.
~ ~ ~
You and your best friend Pieck cackle on the floor of your living room together. You clutch your stomach, aching from laughter.
“I can't believe I did that,” you gasp out and wipe tears of laughter from your eyes. As soon as you came home from the dentist, you told Pieck everything. You're not usually that bold, but relative anonymity empowered you.
“Way to start out our move with a bang,” Pieck laughs. “Although, not quite,” she gives a wry smile. “What did he look like? Tell me more!”
“Ugh,” you groan and roll onto your stomach. “Sexy as hell. Tall, really tall. Ashy brown hair – kinda shaggy, but it works for him. Hazel eyes. He seemed pretty fit too.”
“Sounds like you got a pretty good look. I still can't believe you did that,” Pieck shakes her head, her dark waves flying all over. “You're going to get banned for sexual harassment!” She teases.
“And I'd do it again,” you giggle and shrug.
You mean it – mostly. It might make for an awkward appointment in the spring, but with the way Jean flushed every time you teased him, you couldn't help but egg him on.
“Do you think he'll actually show up tomorrow night?” Pieck asks more seriously.
“I dunno.” You place your hand on your chin. “But I think it's worth going regardless.”
You and Pieck pick a seat at the bar that gives you two a perfect view of the front doors. You sit on margaritas all night, but the tall dental hygienist you're looking for never shows. You admit you're a little disappointed. With how flustered Jean was, you thought he might return your interest, but perhaps not. Or maybe he was seeing someone else. Guilt sinks into you as you wonder if pushed the poor guy too far. You shake it off and chat with Pieck about all the new places in your neighborhood you want to try.
The next six months pass by in a blur. You start your new job, which is boring, quite honestly, but it pays the bills. You and Pieck make new friends through various activities like a book club, yoga classes, and the community garden. You go on a few dates here and there, but nothing really sticks. They're a fun time, but thoughts about a certain tall dental hygienist come back like a boomerang.
You search the clinic website to try and find Jean's last name, but they only have the doctors listed. You've never been much into dating apps, but you download them all in hopes that you find him. You don't. So he's either taken or not into dating apps.
Admittedly, Jean begins to fade into memory as the days grow colder.
Then when spring hits, you remember.
You're practically skipping as you walk to your dentist appointment. The spring sun warms you from head to toe. You breath in the fresh scent of blooming cherry blossoms. You hope you didn't scare Jean away and that he's still your dental hygienist.
The same woman with long, brown hair and eager amber eyes greets you. Her name tag reads Sasha. You plop down on the white couches and aimlessly scroll through your phone.
A familiar voice calls your name.
You jerk your head up.
Jean stands in front of you with a wry smile on his face. “I'm ready for you.”
“Oh, uh, perfect,” you stutter and stand up. You follow him to the exam room.
He's even taller than you remembered. And more rugged – this time he's sporting a bit of scruff.
“After you,” he says and gestures to the exam chair. You sit down and turn sideways to watch him bring up your chart on the computer. You confirm that you have the same number, address, emergency contact, all the basic information.
“Any regular coffee or soda intake?” Jean asks.
“Occasional coffee,” you answer and swing your legs back forth. You twirl the ends of your hair. “I have an. . . addictive personality.”
“Oh yeah?” Jean turns to meet you with his earthy hazel eyes. He smirks and tilts his head. “What's your flavor?”
“Mostly bitter,” you blurt. “With a splash of milk.”
“Sounds right up my alley,” Jean says, holding eye contact. “Anyways.” He gets up and pulls out a strange looking machine. “We need to do updated x-rays today since your chart says it's been a few years.”
“Great,” you mutter. Last time you had to do these at the other clinic, you practically choked on everything the dental hygienist shoved in your mouth.
“Don't worry, I'll be gentle,” Jean purrs. “I remember you said you had a . . . sensitive gag reflex.”
You gulp as you turn yourself to sit the correct way in the exam chair. It's your turn to be flustered now.
Jean turns to you and holds a long, plastic device with his careful, gloved hands.
“Open up,” he whispers. “Nice and wide.”
You obey. You have no idea what the x-ray equipment is called, all you know is that it looks like some sort of instrument of torture devised for those cursed with small mouths.
“Bite down here,” Jean commands and taps on a red tab. You follow his instructions and fight to keep from gagging as the end of the device pokes the back of your throat. After a few seconds of extreme discomfort, Jean motions for you to open your mouth.
“Good girl,” he praises you as he slowly pulls the contraption out of your mouth. Goosebumps prickle up and down your arms.
Once the x-rays are done, you lie down for the regular cleaning and polishing. Jean runs a glove-covered thumb over your bottom lip as your mouth parts.
“Still looking good,” he murmurs.
You're not sure whether it's good or bad that you can't speak right now. Your soft lips burn under the gentle pressure of Jean's thumb. Your heart pounds with every movement Jean's fingers make in your mouth. It's not the exact actions – they're exactly the same as than any other dentist appointment. It's the sensual intention.
Or is it just your imagination? The urge to experiment rushes through you like a heat wave.
Jean's deft fingers move from tooth to tooth, perfecting them. In the middle of these movements, you find an opportunity to poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue. He pauses, hazel eyes widening. There's no hiding what Jean is thinking. The corners of your mouth tilt up, knowing that lewd thoughts about you are pouring into his mind.
He clears his throat and moves your tongue back with his fingers.
“Behave yourself,” he chastises you.
You want to giggle, but your mouth is full of, well – him.
Jean is finished with the cleaning all too soon. Dr. Zoe bursts in with the same gusto you remember from last time.
“How's our best patient doing?” They ask and bounce up and down on the chair next to you.
“Couldn't be better,” you grin and look past their excited demeanor to Jean. His hazel eyes burn with intensity. This time, he doesn't hide in the computer. Your body tingles knowing that he's undressing you with his eyes. His tongue slips out of his mouth and runs along his bottom lip. You have to break eye contact as Dr. Zoe does their own examination, albeit much quicker and less invasive than Jean's. It takes everything you have to refrain from jumping out of the chair and onto Jean.
“No issues,” Dr. Zoe confirms, almost a carbon copy of last fall. “Except watch the spot right behind your front teeth. It's not anything major, I can just tell that you're missing that spot when brushing. Anyways, I gotta do a root canal – see you in the fall!” They say your name and dash off to another less fortunate patient.
“So our perfect patient is not so perfect?” Jean raises an eyebrow at you as the two of you are alone in the room again.
“I guess not,” you sigh. “Seems I'm missing a spot.”
“I can help you with any spots you need help with,” he says, eyes lingering at your breasts. The sensitive spot between your legs begins to throb at that idea.
You cross your legs and smirk. The boldness you felt at that last appointment has returned. “And how might you help me with that?”
“I know a few ways,” Jean begins, “but it might be best for outside the office. Maybe at a certain bar tomorrow night.”
You pause. Tomorrow is Saturday. The same day of the week you suggested Jean meet you six months ago, and he never showed.
“A Saturday appointment? You must be a hard worker.” You tease. “How can I guarantee you'll be there?” You push, refusing to be let down again.
“I think I know a way.” Jean holds up a business card and drops it on the floor. You frown, not quite understanding. He gets up and leaves the room. “I'll walk you out when you're ready,” he calls.
You get up from the exam chair and grab the card off the floor.
Jean Kirstein.
It lists his title as a dental hygienist, the clinic phone number and his work email – nothing personal or interesting, aside from his last name. You flip the card over.
His cell phone number is scrawled on the back. A smile spreads across your face. He must mean it this time.
You pocket the card and flounce out of the room and walk side-by-side with Jean down the hallway. “I just realized we didn't talk about scheduling your next appointment. Same time, same place?” He asks, mischief dancing in his eyes.
You realize just how tall this man is when you have to crane your next up to look at him as you reach the lobby.
“Works for me. The earlier the better.”
Your heart throbs with anticipation – and nerves. You dash out the door without saying goodbye.
“Shut up.” You hear Jean hiss as you leave, no doubt to the woman who was checking patients in for appointments.
You know you won't have to wait another six months to see Jean Kirstein.
~ ~ ~
You tap your fingers repeatedly on the edge of the bar table in a sort of rhythmic trance. It's Saturday evening and you're waiting to see if your dental hygienist shows up – if Jean Kirstein shows up. You remind yourself to refer to his actual name, not his occupation. A dark-haired man sitting nearby you catches your eyes with his bright green ones. Well, if Jean doesn't show up, at least there's something to look at, you think.
Before arriving at the bar, you agonized over what to wear while Pieck sat on your bed and gave nods of approval for outfits you liked. In the end, you chose a springy dress with a black leather jacket. Cute, but a little edgy.
You've already downed one gin and tonic to calm your nerves. Jean seemed to be pretty damn clear that he'd be here this time. And you have his number to text if he doesn't.
You dig your phone out of your purse, wondering if it's been long enough that you should text. You're just about to type out a message when -
“Hey there.” You look up, expecting warm, hazel eyes, but piercing green ones meet you instead. The man who's been trying to catch your attention all evening.
“Hi.” A smile spreads across your face. Though you'd rather see Jean, you can't help but smile an another attractive man – you're only human, after all.
“Eren,” the man introduces himself and offers a warm hand. You shake it, noticing the rough calluses. Eren clearly works out. “I couldn't help but notice you're here alone. Can I buy you drink? My time is free.” He offers a sly grin.
You consider Eren's offer for half a second, but a hand with long fingers claps down on his shoulder.
“Actually, she's here with me.”
An even bigger smile bursts across your face. Any notion of entertaining a night with someone else flees from your mind.
Jean is here.
“Sorry for the confusion,” you apologize to Eren, though you're really not that sorry. “Nice to meet you though,” you call out as he turns away, disgruntled.
“And I'm sorry I'm late,” Jean apologizes to you. “I got a bit uh, preoccupied.” He runs his hand through his ash brown hair. He looks different outside of the dental office. Younger and more nervous. More human. He's wearing dark jeans and an olive green button up, though the last couple buttons remain open, giving you an open view of his throat and a glimpse of his chest – which seems to be as well defined as you imagined.
“No worries,” you reassure him and use your straw to shuffle the ice in your mostly empty glass. “I'm glad you showed up this time.”
Jean places his hands on the chair in front of you and leans over slightly. “Yeesh, I'm not off to a great start, am I?” He asks, another apology written on his face. “I chickened out last time, if I'm being honest. I was nervous about,” he pauses to think, “professional boundaries.”
“I didn't get you in trouble, did I?” You tease.
“Nah,” he waves and laughs, giving you a full view of his teeth. Of course the guy who works at a dental office has perfect teeth. You wonder what they might feel like on your skin. Heat flushes your face. “Anyways – what are you drinking?” He points to your empty glass.
“Gin and tonic.” You raise your glass. Jean takes it and stalks off to the bar.
You shift to cross your legs and can't help but smile as Jean orders drinks for you two. You've never been this bold before, so you certainly didn't imagine the dental appointment encounter would turn in to anything – but here you are. And here is Jean, returning to your table with another gin and tonic for you and one for him.
“I think you had a good idea,” he says, sitting down and placing the drinks on your table. “Spring is the best time for gin.” He takes a sip and holds eye contact with you. You haven't even made physical contact tonight, but those earthy hazel eyes threaten to shatter every part of your being.
You nod in agreement and mirror Jean, taking a sip of your drink. “So, back to the professional boundaries,” you begin. “Leaving your number on the card was clever.”
Jean chuckles. “I was mulling over that one for days. I knew your appointment was coming up and I didn't want to mess it up this time.”
“And you couldn't take my number from my chart?” You smirk and play with your straw with your tongue. Jean is captivated by your swirling tongue.
“Definitely would've been a privacy violation. Dr. Ackerman would've had my ass if he ever found out. But nobody can fault me for dropping a business card that just happened to have my cell number on it.” He shrugs in mock innocence.
“That makes sense,” you nod, taking on a slightly more serious tone as you find yourself wondering more about Jean's life. “Which one is Dr. Ackerman?”
“Small guy with dark hair. Usually looks like someone just shoved something up his ass,” Jean laughs. You recall passing this doctor in the hallway – and his photo on the dental clinic website. “It's a wonder Dr. Zoe saw something in him.”
“Wait.” You tilt your head. “Dr. Zoe and Dr. Ackerman are together?” You're a bit bewildered by this, given Dr. Zoe's erratic nature and Dr. Ackerman's stoicism.
“Yep,” Jean answers and takes a swig of his drink. “Most people wouldn't know by the way they act. But yeah, they met in grad school and started this clinic together.”
“And how'd you end up at the clinic?” You're not usually one to chat about jobs – to you, they're fairly meaningless, but considering it's a major part of how you met Jean, you want to know more.
“Mmm, I always found human biology interesting. I thought it would be fun to specialize in something, so I shadowed Dr. Zoe for a few weeks on summer and they never let me go. They're also a part-time professor at the university I went to, so it was an easy in. They tried to convince me to continue schooling to be a dentist, but I prefer spending time with patients, which you ironically don't get to do as much when you're a doctor. And, to be honest, I didn't want to go to grad school any longer than I had to.”
“Amen to that.” You lift your drink up and you clink your glasses together. You had briefly considered grad school, but the though of dropping another few thousand dollars didn't sit right with you.
You ask Jean a few more questions and learn that he lives with two of his best friends from college, Connie Springer and Marco Bodt. Jean is an only child and frequently visits his parents in Trost. He played basketball and ran track when he was in high school, but gave up sports in college in favor of his studies – and an art club.
“An art club? For real?” You ask.
Jean chuckles. “You'd think science and art don't mix well, but I think they go hand-in-hand. I think there's something beautiful about human biology, so I used that for inspiration for a lot of my sketches.” He pauses and stares at you with a wistful gaze. “Anyways. What about you? What more should I know about you besides your perfect mouth?” Jean gives you a crooked smirk.
It's like a live wire flashes through you. It's strange, this combination of genuinely getting to know you – and suggestive flirting. This isn't exactly one-night stand behavior. You aren't sure what to expect, but you can't deny the magnetic pull toward Jean's mind and body.
You tell Jean about how you grew up in smaller town in the southern part of the region, but had always craved something bigger. You went to college in Jinae, a step up, but it still wasn't quite what you were looking for.
Jean perks up at this. “Jinae? Really? My roommate Marco grew up there. Any chance you know him?”
You shake your head. “Sorry, doesn't ring a bell. It's a big area.”
“Figured it was worth asking.” Jean places his chin on his hand. “So why didn't you stay in Jinae?”
“I, um,” you bite your bottom lip, wondering why you're about to confess this to a near stranger. And yet, there's a warmth and genuine curiosity about Jean that encourages you to open up. “I didn't have the easiest time making friends.” Jean tilts his head at you, silently asking for further explanation. “I had friends in classes and clubs, sure, but I rarely got an invite to hang out after class or on weekends.” Weekends were the bane of your existence in college. You had often wondered if you should transfer, but weren't willing to fill out the mountain of required paperwork. Your face burns, wondering what Jean thinks of your difficult time in college.
“So how'd you meet Pieck?” Jean picks up on your nerves and deftly moves the conversation forward. “It sounds like you two are pretty close.” Jean slurps down the last of his drink.
You explain that out of sheer boredom on weekends, during your senior year you signed up to volunteer to help maintain one of the campus wildflower gardens. Pieck was there too, and you two have been inseparable ever since. When she asked what your plans were after graduation, if you'd consider moving to the big city with her, and you jumped at the opportunity.
“Pieck is a spit fire,” you laugh and swirl your straw in your once again empty glass. “She keeps me alive.” You're not sure if it's the alcohol or Jean's gaze that warms you from head to toe.
“Sounds like someone else I know.” Jean winks. Under the table, his foot nudges yours and moves up and down, tracing the outline of your calf. Your insides shiver. “I'm done if you are,” Jean says as he shakes his glass, the ice chiming like a spring melody. “Want to get out of here and sober up a bit?”
“Definitely.”
~ ~ ~
Jean holds your hand and leads you down a winding stone path that connects to another right by the river. The two of you meander along the river and make idle chat. As a seasoned veteran of western Mitras, Jean gives you a fair amount of suggestions of places that you and Pieck can check out – coffee shops, bookstores, theaters, wine bars, etc.
“Oh, this is the best part,” he interrupts himself and pulls you across a bridge that matches the stone walkway. With his long legs, you have to half jog to keep up with Jean. He stops in the middle and leans back against the stone. You mirror him and take in the view of the city lights. It's like dancing fireflies in the night.
“This view is spectacular,” you breath.
“Yes, it is.”
You look up at Jean, but he's not looking at the city skyline. He's looking right at you. A sharp, spring wind cuts into you like a knife. You shiver and automatically lean in closer to Jean's body heat. You're close enough to smell his cologne – sandalwood?
Jean cups your face with his hand, and leans down to you. Your heart beat thunders as he draws closer and closer. He stops just inches away from your lips. You can see every shade of his earthy hazel eyes. Jean raises an eyebrow – a nonverbal question.
You smile and nod, closing your eyes.
Jean closes the gap.
The first kiss is soft, tentative.
Jean's other hand wanders to the back of your head, twisting his fingers in your hair. His grip is firm, yet gentle.
You place your hands on each of his arms, craving to touch his firm biceps without the jacket in the way.
Jean's tongue flicks to your lips, asking another nonverbal question.
You open your mouth, and his sweet and sour taste floods your senses. Your kisses grow hungrier. You're both desperate for more. Your hands wander up and down Jean's chest, begging to touch more, as are his, as he slips a warm hand under your dress, tracing your thighs while the other hand holds your hip.
Jean breaks away for a half second. “You taste as good as I imagined,” he murmurs and returns to your lips for more. “Better, actually,” he adds in between desperate kisses.
You pull away, head spinning.
You know exactly what you want, and given the look in Jean's eyes, you know what he wants too.
“Pieck is home tonight,” you gasp, trying to catch your breath. “Your place?”
Jean grimaces. “Marco and Connie have a few friends over.”
“Ah.” You slide your hands off Jean and look at the stone bridge beneath you. So much for ending with a bang – like Pieck said.
“Unless?” Jean raises an eyebrow and a mischievous look takes over his face.
~ ~ ~
“This is insane,” you giggle. Jean holds one of your hands while the other digs his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door to the dental clinic. “Won't someone be able to see that you've used your key fob?”
“Nah,” Jean says and pulls you through the door with him. “Sasha's the only one can see it – and she never does. I could always ask her to erase the history from the security system if I really need.”
The clinic is completely dark, except for a few security lights. The only sounds are your nervous giggles and Jean's breath. “This looks completely different now.”
“You're about to get a whole new perspective,” Jean grins. “C'mon.” He leans down and grabs you by the waist to throw you over his shoulder. You shriek and laugh, both from surprise and that Jean is strong enough to throw you over his shoulder like you're a sack of flour.
Jean walks all the way down the hallway and opens the door to the last exam room. The one you two were in yesterday.
“I'm ready for you,” he whispers and turns the dimmed lights on while still holding on to you with one hand.
Jean lays you down on the exam chair. You take your leather jacket off and lie down on your back.
This is indeed an entirely different perspective.
Jean crawls on top of you and kisses you with intensity, your tongues hungry, searching for more. You run your hands through his ash brown hair that he probably spent hours getting just right. Jean's hand creeps up under your dress again, this time wandering all the way up to your rib cage. His thumb strokes just along your bra line. Jean wiggles his hand under your bra and squeezes your breast. He runs his thumb back and forth over your nipple. You give a small shudder. You only breath when Jean takes a short kissing break to nip at your bottom lip. He's pinned your legs together with his knees, forceful enough to make you shiver, gentle enough to let you know you can stop any time.
But you don't want to stop.
You want more of Jean.
You break away and trace the outline of his face with your finger, his scruff gently scratching back at you.
“There's something I want,” you whisper. You close your mouth and poke your tongue on the inside of your cheek, mirroring your actions from a previous appointment. Jean smirks in both surprise and wonder.
“You sure?” He asks as he undoes his belt buckle.
“Mmhmm.”
Jean unzips his pants and they fall to the ground, belt buckle clanging against the hard floor. His boxers fall to his knees.
“Open wide then, pretty baby.”
Jean grips the head piece of the exam chair and surges forward.
Enormous is the only way to describe the most intimate part of his body. Your eyes widen, unsure if he can fit in your mouth. No, there's no way.
But you're sure as hell going to try.
You stroke his dick up and down with tantalizing fingers. Jean groans, begging for more.
You lean forward slightly and lick the precum leaking from his tip. You run your tongue up and down his shaft. Jean twitches and moans louder in response.
“Be a good girl and take me,” he gasps.
You're more than happy to accept Jean's challenge.
You take in as much of Jean's dick as you can, sucking and salivating. Jean's groans turn guttural. His arms on either side of you shake and bulge.
You repeat the motions and use one hand to stroke the very last of him that you can't quite fit in your mouth. The bundle of nerves in between your legs flushes, wondering what Jean will feel like there.
“Hey. . .” Jean trails off in between moans, “I think I'm gonna-”
With Jean's warning, you lurch forward in attempt to swallow as much of him as you can.
Except when his tip nudges the back of your throat, your throat heaves. Your stomach jerks up to your throat. You involuntarily push Jean away and out of your mouth.
You turn your head away, mouth now empty, and cough up the saliva caught in your throat.
“Shit, you okay?” Jean lowers himself to make eye contact with you, his eyes frantic.
“I'm fine,” you sputter and wipe your mouth. His face softens.
“So you do have a sensitive gag reflex?”
“I told you!” You and Jean burst out laughing together at the ridiculous scene – the two of you tangled up together, breathless on a dental exam chair. “So you didn't. . .?”
“Not yet,” Jean winks. “You know, there's something I'd like as well.” He tugs at the hem of your dress. You lift up your arms up for Jean to take your dress off with ease. He tosses it to the ground.
Jean leans in for a few kisses, then trails his lips down your neck, your collarbone, and finally, to your breasts. Goosebumps prickling on your skin follow Jean's lips. He pauses at your breasts and savors them – taking one in his mouth and giving you a little nip.
A soft groan escapes your lips.
Jean looks up at you for a second, smirks and then bites a little harder as he marks your chest. He flicks your nipple back and forth with his tongue before continuing his descent.
Jean kisses your stomach all the way down to your hips, where he bites down. You squirm and gasp – a blur between ticklish and pleasure.
He continues his path of kisses, down, down, down. You barely register that Jean slips off your panties. He parts your thighs and places them on top of his shoulders, granting himself a full view of the most intimate part of your body.
“Beautiful,” he whispers before he peppers your inner thighs with kisses. A spark ignites in between your legs. Jean teases your slit with his tongue, running up and down. Your entire body is a single flame, begging for more kindling.
“Jean, please,” you beg as you run your hands through his hair.
“Please what?” He pauses his teasing to grin up at you.
“Please. . .” you trail off and sigh as Jean resumes his teasing. “Play with my clit,” you gasp.
“C'mon now, darlin',” he purrs. “Be a good girl and wait for me.”
Jean parts your lips with his fingers and pushes his tongue inside you and trails up to your clit – but only with feather light pressure.
You whimper, craving more. You squirm and buck your hips, physically begging Jean. He grabs your hips, restraining you. You begin to drip.
He finally obliges.
Jean swirls his tongue around your bundle of nerves.
You release a high-pitched gasp and dig your nails into his arms.
Your body blazes into a roaring fire.
Jean is relentless in his efforts to make you cum, and you're both soon rewarded.
“J – Jean, I – I – I -” you gasp.
You can't get a thought, let alone a sentence, out before you climax.
Your body explodes into a wildfire. Several waves of tension and relaxation roll through you. Jean grips harder onto your hips and digs deeper with his tongue, keeping you going as long as he can.
As the last wave of pleasure collapses over you, you arms spill off the sides of the exam chair. Every muscle, every cell in your body has melted from your wildfire. Sparks ripple through your fingertips and toes.
“Wow,” you breath, unable to string together a coherent thought.
“Ready for more?” Jean grins and places his dick right at your entrance, rubbing up and down your slit, wetting his tip from you.
You jerk up and prop yourself up on your elbows.
“Ah, wait, do you have-”
“Got it,” Jean answers and dives down to his pants to grab an unwrapped condom from his pocket.
“You came prepared,” you huff, still unable to return to your normal voice.
“Always am,” he gives you a sly smirk. “Uh, although,” he pauses, giving his statement a second thought. “Not that I always do this. You're the only person I've ever brought here,” he stammers, his earthy hazel eyes widening.
“Good.” You find Jean's back and forth bravado and awkward nerves endearing. You take the half-opened condom from him. You rip it all the way open and hand it back to him.
“I'm patiently waiting for you. Get it, because I'm also your patient?” You chuckle at your own bad joke and lie back down on the table, legs open.
“Yes, I get it,” Jean rolls his eyes and returns your smile as he rolls the condom on. “Are you ready for me?” He whispers, hovering over you, and kisses the shell of your ear.
“Ready.”
He nudges his tip at your entrance. Your lips part and stretch, making way for his length.
“All good?” He whispers. You nod and bite your lower lip in anticipation. “I'll go slow. Let me know if it hurts.”
“Mm'kay,” you breath as he sinks deeper into you. You grimace slightly as your walls adjust to his length. Jean pauses and raises his eyebrows at you. “Keep going,” you command and place your hands on his ass, urging him to melt deeper into you.
Jean obeys, sinking more and more until he's all the way inside you. He pumps slowly, glancing at you every so often to let you control his pace. Jean sighs with every stroke, worshiping your body as his hands wander and praise every inch of you. You release a mewl as his dick reaches your most sensitive spot, making your insides curl with pleasure.
“Right there, hmm?” Jean pumps harder and faster with a new desperation. He lifts your hips at a slight angle, closer to him – Jean can't get enough of you. He dives for your neck, sucking and biting, muffling his rising groans. “Need more,” he growls.
Without warning, he lifts you up off the chair and you curl around him like a koala, as if by second nature. You're slammed against the nearest wall, Jean still holding you by your thighs, and fucks you against the wall. You cling to him and rest your chin on his shoulder. His weight against you forces a breathy moan with every powerful stroke. Jean's dick reaches deep inside you, a spot you didn't even know existed releasing heat throughout your body. You rake your nails up and down his back as he rails into you over and over again.
“Soon,” he pants.
Curious, you lift your chin off Jean's shoulder and find his hazel eyes glazed over, drunk on you. His mouth is parted and a bead of sweat drips down his temple.
You give Jean a crooked smirk, and that pretty smile of yours is what pushes him over the edge.
He releases a moan of purse ecstasy, and chants your name like a prayer. His arms shake, but still hold you firm against the wall. You know he won't drop you until he's completely finished spilling into you.
After several final strokes, Jean carries you back over to the exam chair and collapses back on top of you. He rests his head on your breasts and you rhythmically stroke his ash brown hair.
As you both catch you breath, Jean looks back up at you with a devilish grin.
“So,” he starts and runs his pointer finger along your lips. “When do I get to see that pretty mouth again?”
“Definitely sooner than six months,” you say and nip at his finger.
“Good. I do want to see you again,” Jean confirms. “Outside the office. Very unprofessionally.”
“I think we can arrange another appointment,” you tease. “As long as I'm your star patient.”
“You are certainly the best patient I've ever had.”
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🦷 for…literally anyone. Go crazy with this
CW: BBU, some mouth whumpiness although the whump is emotional, medical whump
"Okay, here we go. Now, I'm going to insert this into your mouth, and you're going to bite down, as evenly as you can, and hold it until I say. Got it?"
Oskar looks at the little plastic tray in Arvid's hand as though the spongy, grayish thing inside of it is something alive that might bite him at any second. "Why?"
"I want to make a mold of your teeth."
Oskar shifts rapidly backwards in the exam chair in Arvid's 'medical room', also known as the half of his basement space he doesn't sleep in. One wrist brushes against the open leather buckles that can be used to restrain patients and he flinches violently away from it, face going suddenly white except for two red spots in his cheeks. "But-"
Arvid closes his eyes, taking a breath. "Oskar. Just do it."
Oskar shakes his head, curling his knees up to his chest and sliding his arms around his legs. His mouth opens and closes a few times on a word that never seems to quite make its way out. "I-... I don't want to," He whispers, hiding the bottom half of his face behind his knees, only his dark eyes showing, staring, hurt, at Arvid. "I don't want to do that. Please, Arvid, I-I don't, I don't want to-"
"Oskar," Arvid says, keeping his voice calm only with difficulty. This is irritating. "
Oskar's eyes drop and he stares down at the stirrups that hang off the end on long metal poles, where patients can slide their feet and hold their legs open. If possible, he blanches even further, and Arvid fights down his annoyance at the delay. "I have Samael coming in in like half an hour for bloodwork, we need to get this done before she gets here."
Oskar curls himself up even more tightly, closing his eyes and giving his head one more weak shake. "Please," He whispers. "I don't want to."
"Oskar. It is just to get a teeth mold! This is completely normal!" He thinks. Actually, Arvid doesn't have much of a comparison for normal, but it's normal for the work he does, anyway. He has molds of the mouths of all of the archangels and most of the other employees of the organization, too. He has molds of his own teeth, damn it. "I'm tired of you wasting my time with this, so just... fucking do as I say. You're my pet, aren't you?"
Oskar's breaths are coming shallowly, and he doesn't open his eyes. "Yes," He whispers. "I am." One of his hands moves to touch the collar around his neck, as if reminding himself. "I, I am yours."
"Right. So just. So just do the thing, so we can get it done and I can go back to doing my actual job before Samael shows up and wonders why nothing's ready for her..." He trails off as he hears a strange noise, like a clicking, and tilts his head. His eyes trail downward, until he realizes... it's the chair rattling in place.
Oskar is shaking so hard the exam chair is shaking, too.
"... hey." Arvid looks down at the molding clay in the dental tray - it'll dry out and be more or less useless if this takes much longer - and then, with a sigh, he sets it back down on the little metal rolling table and reaches out, putting one hand on either side of Oskar's face. "Talk to me. What's wrong with this? The tray, the... the chair? Is that it?"
Oskar hesitates, then opens his eyes again, looking up at Arvid without raising his chin. "... both."
"Okay... uh. What the fuck is wrong with them?" The chair is... just a chair. Arvid had gotten it at an insanely low price some years back during a private estate sale he decided not to look too closely into - but Oskar is clearly terrified of the damn thing. He's not even restrained - Arvid only uses those when one of the archangels is violent or hallucinating.
"Clinic c-chair." Oskar's teeth click together from his trembling. His eyes are glimmering in the lights with tears that haven't fallen yet. "The, the mold for a-... a gag, I don't... I don't want to have a gag here, Arvid. I don't-... I don't want to-"
"What? It's-... it's not for a gag."
Oskar swallows hard, licking at his lips. "It's... not?"
"No... no. Jesus Christ, Oskar, it's for if you get hurt and lose a tooth or something, so we can get you a good screw-in tooth and shit. I was thinking the other day about how you've ended up going out on fieldwork with me twice, plus you've been climbing the tree in the yard, and just in case, we should have shit ready to go for your records. That's all."
Oskar glances sidelong at the little plastic tray, then back at him. His lips press into a thin line, the skin paling at the pressure, before he tries to talk again. "I don't... want anything in m-my mouth, Arvid. Please-... I, I can't. Please, please don't make me. Please."
Arvid inhales. He knows if he checks his phone that time is running out, Samael's going to walk in any fucking second. "Oskar. We are going to do this and we are going to do this now. Open your fucking mouth. I am ordering you, as your owner, to open your mouth."
The look of open, honest pain and fear on Oskar's face sends a twist of some strange unpleasant chill through Arvid's chest, but he at least slowly nods and - jaw trembling - opens his mouth wide for Arvid to slide in the tray, then bites gently down. Sounds come, unbidden, from his throat - muffled whines that he doesn't even seem fully conscious of. Arvid can all but see his pulse racing in the spot just under his jaw. His eyes lock on Arvid's face and stay there.
"Good boy," Arvid soothes. Usually praise is a one-way ticket to fixing Oskar's bad moods, but this time it just seems to bounce right off him. The tears finally fall, running in clear trails over his cheekbones. Arvid wipes them away with his thumb and Oskar flinches, minutely, never quite pulling away. "It's all right. It's all right. Just a few more seconds..."
He takes the little handle on the tray, murmurs for Oskar to open carefully and slowly, and pulls it out to set it aside and get the next one ready for the bottom teeth. Oskar's trembling never stops, the chair rattling lightly, the pet's fingers dug into the padding until his knuckles are pure white.
Arvid finishes the second tray, and as soon as he removes it and says a soft all done, you were very good, Oskar uncurls, bolts off the chair, and races past the curtain that separates the two halves of Arvid's life. His feet slap on the concrete floor and Arvid watches him go, sighing.
He hears Oskar climb into the bed, the gentle squeak of the springs in the mattress as he buries himself under blankets and probably curls right back up into the little ball likes that. Muffled sobs are just barely audible, and Arvid's teeth itch to go ask him to stop that shit, it's annoying and he has shit to do today, he can't waste his time comforting Oskar's every fear.
But... he caused the fear.
Arvid hesitates, feeling that strange unpleasant twist again.
It's guilt.
He inhales, looking over at the curtain. "Oskar..." He trails off. He should just... go over there and apologize, hold him for a while, let him talk about it or something. It'd be the kind thing to do, and Oskar is the best thing he has in his life these days.
There's a harsh, loud sniff. "Yes?" Oskar's voice is thick and heavy with his tears.
"Listen, I just-" The door to the basement opens and Samael, a woman who seems created entirely in shades of black and slightly less black, steps inside. Arvid swallows the rest of his sentence.
The sounds of Oskar's fear stop - muffled even more thoroughly as he must hear Samael enter, too.
"Am I early?" Sam asks, eyebrows raising. The piercing in one glints in the flat white light of the exam side of the room. "Where's your little creature, isn't he around you all the time these days?"
"He's... busy," Arvid says. "Just give me a second to get the vials ready for you."
"Busy? Doing what?" Sam hops up onto the exam table, even swinging her legs a little. She's maybe five foot three on a good day, but Arvid knows damn well she can snap necks with her thighs alone and is one of the best in the business. "What do pets even do?"
Arvid ignores her. He walks over to peek around the curtain, faintly smiling as he sees the very Oskar-shaped lump on the bed, a hint of his hair showing on the pillow.
"We'll talk about it later," He says, pitching his voice low. "Okay?"
There's a rustle as Oskar shifts around under the blankets he's hidden himself in. He peeks out, just a bit of hair and pale forehead and huge eyes. "Yes, sir," He says, voice weak.
Arvid sighs. Oh, good. He's sir again. Great.
Sometimes, this shit is harder than he thought it would be.
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