#but hey the dentist went well!

[blueskiesagain]

Lmao this shit is fuckin wild honestly like can everything just PLEASE give me a goddamn break

[lokh]

testosterone can make ur gums bleed more?????????

[writingouthere]

exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.

cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.

Your date was a disappointment.

The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.

"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.

"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.

Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.

Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.

Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.

"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.

"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.

"You didn't even meet him."

"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"

You hated that he knew you so well.

"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.

"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."

"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.

"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."

"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.

"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.

"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.

"Where can we talk then?"

"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.

"Then let's go home."

"You mean to your home."

Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.

You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.

"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.

You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.

"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"

"Princess-"

"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.

"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"

"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."

You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.

"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."

"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.

They taste like cherry chapstick.

His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.

His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.

Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.

"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.

"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.

"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.

"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.

"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."

You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.

"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."

The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.

You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.

Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.

Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?

No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.

"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.

The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.

Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.

"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."

"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.

"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.

"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"

"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."

You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."

Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.

For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.

You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.

"Alright, come then, you've earned it."

With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.

Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.

"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.

Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.

"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."

"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.

You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."

When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.

You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.

"Cozy."

"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.

"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."

The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."

"I did."

He looks at you. "Why?"

"You know why," you say, tired again.

"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."

"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."

"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.

"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"

"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.

"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."

"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"

"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."

There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.

Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."

"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."

"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."

"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."

"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.

"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."

"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."

You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.

"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."

Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."

"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."

You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.

"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."

"That's asking for a lot from a guy."

"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.

"Bye, Sukuna."

Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.

He leaves without another word.

When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.

----------

It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.

The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?

"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.

"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."

"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.

You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.

"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.

"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."

You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess. Bad time?"

"No, just, what do you want?"

"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."

You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?

"What do you want to say?"

"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."

"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.

"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."

You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.

"Uh huh."

"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."

"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.

"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."

"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"

"Why do you talk like such a brat?"

"You know-"

"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.

"So when is this date?"

"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."

"Are you fucking here, you creep?"

"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."

"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.

"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."

"Alright, I'll see you soon."

Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.

But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.

There's another guy that you love.

So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.

Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?

Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.

[ginax0916]

could you write a triplets x younger sister of her getting her wisdom teeth out? the triplets were so funny and cute in today's video!!

⊹★ 𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡 ★⊹

Sturniolo triplets x fem!little sister

Genre: fluff

Synopsis: The triplets little sister gets her wisdom teeth out and her brothers are there for her.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, teeth, needles, & dentist stuff lol

*tysm for the request I’ve been so excited to write this*

This is quite long btw

*n/n = nickname*

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“Y/n come on get up we have to go” Matt shakes me awake.

“Mmm I don’t wanna” I mumble still half asleep.

“I’m sorry but you have to now come on get dressed or we’re gonna be late” He rips the covers off and opens the blinds.

“Matthewwww” I groan carrying out the w.

“I’ll see you downstairs ok?” Matt says.

“Whatever” I roll my eyes.

It’s not that I was trying to be mean to him it’s the fact that I’m getting my wisdom teeth taken out today and I’ve never been so scared. I’ve always had a fear of dentists, since I was a child. It just never went away. Everything in that room is scary. The needles, the tools that go in my mouth, the bright lights, the surgical looking chair, pretty much just everything.

“Y/n! Come on we’re gonna be late!” Matt yells.

“My god I’m coming Matt Jesus” I reply annoyed as I walk down the stairs.

“Good morning kid” Chris says from the couch.

“Morning” I reply quietly as I sit next to him.

“What’s wrong you ok?” He asks noticing my nerves.

“I’m scared” I mumble embarrassed.

“Hey it’s okay to be scared. We were all scared when we got our wisdom teeth out. Plus we’ll be with you the whole time so you’re not alone” Chris softly says as he wraps his arm around me and hugs me.

“You guys ready?” Nick asks.

“Yes” Chris says.

“No” I sigh.

“C’mon kid you’re gonna be okay I promise” Matt holds my hand pulling me down the stairs with him.

-

It’s only been 15 minutes of the 35 minute car ride. But every minutes seems like an hour. My leg bounces up and down and I’m continuously picking at my fingers and chewing on my bottom lip.

“Stop that y/n” Nick says putting one hand on my knee to stop it from bouncing and his other hand holds mine to keep me from picking my fingers.

“Sorry m’just nervous” I say looking down.

“Trust me I was too but it really isn’t that bad it just feels like you took a really long nap and woke up with suddenly 4 teeth gone” Nick points out making me laugh a little.

“Will a be all woozy like you?” I ask him.

“Hopefully you’ll be worse so we can all get a good laugh” Chris comments.

“Does it hurt?” I ask.

“Does what hurt?” Matt replies.

“The anesthesia” I say.

“Well that would beat the whole purpose of it” Nick chuckled.

“What?” I ask, oblivious to the fact of what anesthesia is since I’ve never had to be on it.

“Anesthesia is like numbing cream. It makes you fall asleep and not feel a single thing. All Doctors use it when preforming surgeries or in your case wisdom teeth removal” Matt explains.

“You sound like a nerd” I giggle.

“Well your dumbass didn’t know what anesthesia was so someone had to explain” Matt laughs.

“Will they give me my teeth back?” I question.

“No I think they throw them away” Chris answers.

“Do you think you could ask them to keep my teeth please?” I say to my brothers.

“We’ll see what we can do” Nick smiles.

The rest of the car ride is just my brothers doing all they can to keep me from remembering the fact that I’m about to get 4 teeth taken out of my mouth. They did a pretty good job the whole time until we were actually there.

-

“I can’t do it” I say refusing to go in the elevator.

“C’mon n/n it’ll be okay I promise” Nick says smoothing my hair down.

“But what if something goes wrong? What if they take out the wrong teeth? Oh my god what if my gums bleed out? What if-” I ramble on my breathing starting to pick up and tears brimming at my eyes.

“Hey hey shh it’s ok. We’re right here. And we’re gonna be with you the whole time to make sure you’re safe. Nothing is gonna happen ok sweetheart?” Matt softly says as he bends down to my level and rubs my arms soothingly.

“Ok let’s go” I sigh getting into the elevator.

“Thank god I thought I was gonna have to carry you up there” Chris sarcastically says while wrapping his arms around me engulfing me in a comforting hug. I only hug him back in response unable to form words from my nerves.

I walk into the dental office hand in hand with both Chris and Nick and Matt leading the way. The sound of dental tools fills my ears immediately. The hallways just seem to get longer and longer. If there is a place that gives off creepy mental asylum vibes it’s most definitely the dentist.

“Hi you must be y/n right?” The doctor says.

“Mhm nice to meet you” I quietly say.

“I’m doctor Gabe I’ll be the one working on your teeth today” Dr. Gabe introduces himself stretching out a hand for me to shake which I nicely shake back.

“Follow me to your room and you can take a seat on the chair once we’re in there” Dr Gabe says as we follow him.

“See he’s nice n/n” Chris says pulling me closer.

“Was he good with Nick?” I question pointing to Nick who was now walking ahead with Matt.

“Yes he was really good, didn’t hurt him at all. You’re in good hands sis don’t worry” Chris smiles, my hand still not letting go of his.

“Chris?” I ask.

“Y/n?” He mimics my tone making me smile.

“Can you hold my hand the whole time?” I quietly ask as we still follow Dr Gabe.

“Of course I can kid” Chris replies, kissing the side of my head.

“Alright and y/n just in there feel free to take a seat. I’m just gonna run your vitals and we can get started with the IV and anesthesia sound good?” Dr Gabe explains as I sit on the big chair in the middle.

“Alright this is gonna go on your finger” He says putting the pulse oximeter on my finger. “And I have to put anesthesia as if it were an IV so it’s just gonna feel like a little pinch”

“Look this way n/n” Matt says gently pinching my chin to move my head away from the needle that was about to go in my arm.

“Is it gonna hurt?” I say looking at my brothers.

“It just feels like a little sting nothing you can’t handle I promise” Nick comments.

“Alright 3, 2, 1” Dr Gabe counts before putting the small needle into my arm.

I squeeze Chris’s hand and shut my eyes. I feel Matt rubbing my shoulder soothingly while whispering comforting words.

“You’re ok it’s gonna work soon and you’re gonna fall asleep” He says.

“I wanna see how long I can stay awake” I giggle.

“I tried that too” Nick laughs.

I start to feel a little woozy and tired but I fight it trying to stay awake.

“Tell’em to keep m’teeth” I giggle again slurring my words as the anesthesia starts to take over.

“Don’t worry we’ll tell them” Chris laughs.

“Ok we’re gonna test your memory alright? We’re gonna give you a password for you to remember” The dentist says.

“My memory s’great” I yawn.

“You tired n/n?” Matt smiles.

“Not one bit” I smile and then yawn again making everyone laugh.

“Alright are you ready for the password?” Dr Gabe says.

“You’re gonna give me a password?” I ask forgetting what he had said before.

“Yes y/n he just told you that” Nick laughs.

“No one told me that!” I argue and then yawning again.

“Ok y/n your password is ocean. Remember that ok? I’m gonna ask you what the password is when you wake up” Dr Gabe says.

“Ocean got it” I say giving a thumbs up.

“Good job y/n” Matt laughs.

“Count down from 10 y/n it will help you fall asleep” Dr Gabe tells me.

“10”

“9”

“7”

The 3 of my brothers burst out laughing but I just keep counting thinking it’s right.

“5”

“3”

“2” I yawn closing my eyes.

“Uno”

“She said it in Spanish” I faintly hear my brother’s dying of laughter. But by that point I’m too far gone to answer.

-

“You guys are free to come in and stay with her until she wakes up and we’re gonna wait for the anesthesia to wear off so she can go home is that alright?” I hear the faint voice of Dr. Gabs say, but for some reason I feel so tired and numb that I can’t move.

“Yes perfect thank you sir” Nicks voice rings in my ears.

I start blinking slowly to open my eyes. The bright light above me causing them to sting. My mouth feels numb and there’s something in it but I can’t tell what it is.

“You have a good nap?” Matt chuckles.

“S’over?” I say not being able to speak because of whatever is in my mouth.

“Yes you’re done. Wasn’t so hard right?” Nick smiles.

“Let’s go then” I say trying to stand up.

“No no not yet just a few more minutes n/n” Chris laughs gently pushing back on the chair.

“W’ats in m’mouth I can’t speak” I say putting my fingers in mouth.

“It’s gauze y/n you need it because your gums are bleeding” Matt explains.

“My gums are bleeding?” I ask stunned.

“Yes n/n you just got your teeth taken out” Nick laughs.

“What! Nooo they’re probably so sad they’re gone” I pout.

“They’re resting in peace now” Chris starts laughing.

“In pieces” I sigh. Making them all laugh.

“Alright y/n we’re gonna test your memory alright?” Dr. Gabe says as he comes back into the room.

“M’ready” I give a thumbs up.

“What was the password I gave you earlier?” He says.

“There was a password?” I ask confused.

“Yes and you said your memory was really good” Matt smiles.

“It is good! You’re lying there was never a password this is a trick question” I argue.

“There was a password y/n” Dr. Gabe laughs.

“Well I don’t know!” I shrug.

“The password was ocean y/n. But I’ll give you a new one alright?” The dentist smiles.

“I will remember this time I swear!” I screech.

“Ok the new one is pineapple, remember ok?” He says.

“I will!” I smile as he walks out of the room.

“Get this fat thing off my finger” I say throwing the pulse oximeter off my finger.

“Y/n! No you’re meant to keep that on” Chris says.

“Finger not detected” The machine says.

“Oh shut the fuck up” I stick my tongue out at it.

“Tongue in your mouth y/n” Matt says as he puts the thing back on my finger.

“Chris?” I whisper.

“Yea?” He whispers back.

“Did you hold my hand the whole time?” I say.

“I did” He smiles and kisses the top of my head.

“Look at him being a good brother” Nick laughs.

Chris laughs plays with my hair and Matt sits at the edge of the long chair drawing shapes with his finger on my leg.

-

“Alright she’s almost ready to go home so here’s a little goody bag it has everything she needs inside. Here are some syringes to help clean her gums and where her teeth used to be. Some gauze if she needs extra and some instructions on how to brush her teeth and other stuff” Dr Gabe explains as he comes back into the room.

“I can brush my own fucking teeth” I say crossing my arms.

“Y/n! Don’t curse!” Nick slaps my arm.

“Don’t slap an injured patient” I raise my middle finger at him.

“Y/n put it down” Matt says holding my hand so I can’t put it up.

“Alright y/n what was the password?” The dentist says.

“The password?” I say quietly.

“Yes what was it n/n?” Nick asks.

“Ummm wait let me think really hard” I say putting my hands on my head.

“Pineapple!” I scream.

“Shhh quiet down” Nick laughs putting his hand on my shoulder.

“Very good y/n you’re free to go home. We’ll go get your a wheelchair” He says as he takes off the iv and the pulse oximeter off and then leaves the room once again.

“I can walk on my damn own” I say trying to get up.

“No no you can’t just wait for the wheelchair” Matt says pushing my back down.

“But look I can!” I say getting up quickly but falling forward face planting on Matt chest.

“What did I tell you hm?” He says, wrapping his arms around me to keep me from falling.

“You’re braindead” Nick laughs.

“Says you” I stick my tongue out again.

“Put your bloody tongue back in your mouth” Nick laughs.

-

I get wheeled out of the dental office and to the parking lot where my brothers help me into the car.

“Wait did they let me keep my teeth?” I ask.

“No they all got destroyed when they took them out” Nick says.

“Noooo what’s the tooth fairy gonna think about that?” I mumble making them laugh.

-

“C’mon wake up we’re home” Chris shakes me awake.

“I’m awake” I say with my eyes still closed.

“C’mere” Chris says as he picks me up and carries me into the house and sets me down on the couch.

“It was kinda fun” I randomly say.

“What was?” Nick asks.

“Gettting my teeth taken out” I say.

“See it wasnt so Bad” Matt nudges me.

“Alright I have something for you n/n” Chris says reaching to his pocket to take something out.

“For me?” I ask.

“Yes now close your eyes and put your hand out” He says and I do just that.

“Open’em” He mumbles.

“Oh my god! My teeth! I thought you said they were destroyed” I smile.

“We asked them to keep them for you” Nick chuckles.

“Thank you thank you! Tooth fairy is gonna love these”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Do you guys want more snaps with either of the triplets?? Or more texts? Lmk what y’all what in the requests pls 🙊🙏

[egcdeath]

going the extra mile

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: patrick takes care of you after a rough day at work. 

word count: 2k

warnings: domesticity, established relationship tooth rotting fluff, so much fluff you might have to visit your dentist, brief mention of alcohol, eating, baths, mentions of sex but no explicit scenes, so sappy, very lightly edited

author’s note: this fic is part of my succession au (previous part here) but you don’t need to read it to read this! all you need to know is that patrick and reader are engaged. 

“Honey, I’m home!” you called out as you stepped through the door of your shared apartment, voice a little flat from an exhausting day. 

What began as a joke after you first moved in with Patrick quickly began a critical part of your evening routine, where whoever got home from work later called the cheesy phrase out to the other person, then was excitedly greeted at the door. It was a cute routine and something for you to look forward to after a long day at work—much like the one you just experienced.

Just as you predicted, Patrick appeared at your door shortly after you announced your arrival, beating your equally excited cat by just a few seconds.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted you warmly before entering your space to give you a quick forehead kiss. “How was your day?”

“Stressful,” you huffed, allowing Patrick to take your work bag and hang it up for you. You squatted down to pet your cat, who was now enthusiastically rubbing her chin on your shin.

“I figured it would be. I know big presentations aren’t your favorite,” he acknowledged, ruffling your hair from where you were petting your cat. “So I picked up a bunch of food from that Italian place you like. Want to change into something comfortable then eat?”

“Oh Patrick,” you sighed in relief, looking up at him with love in your eyes. A huge feast was exactly what you needed after such a rough day. “You might be the best fiancé ever.”

As promised, when you returned to the kitchen after putting on a satin pajama set—one that Patrick randomly gifted you early on in your relationship—a variety of takeout boxes sat on the counter from one of your favorite restaurants. You didn’t even think that they did take out, but Patrick must’ve convinced them somehow. Knowing that he would go out of his way to do something like that for you made you want to grab and kiss him. 

You grabbed what you wanted then sat down on your couch, not even bothering to care about marinara stains that might end up on the very expensive piece of furniture. At that point, your comfort mattered more than any material items—a sentiment that you were sure that Patrick would agree with. 

Your fiancé joined you not too long after you sat down, bringing you an offer of focaccia and a glass of wine. 

“You know me so well,” you practically purred, a soft smile on your lips as you gladly took the glass of wine from him. 

Patrick smiled back at you in response, not outwardly acknowledging your praise, but the light dusting of pink on his cheeks letting you know that he appreciated it anyway. You always loved seeing the effects your compliments had on him, even if he didn’t immediately speak his mind. 

“Do you want to watch a movie? Want a foot massage?” he offered, remote to the television already in one hand. It was sweet how he seemed to be going down a checklist of all of the things he knew you liked after a long, stressful day. 

“I think I just want to enjoy your company for now. Maybe an early debrief? Tell me about your day?” you suggested, setting down your glass of wine to take a bite of the food on your plate. 

“My day was pretty boring, to be honest,” he sighed. “We did some run-throughs of Glenn’s speech, then went back to the office and got some boring work done that you don’t want to hear about.”

“Maybe I do wanna hear about it,” you challenged, sitting up slightly straighter to indicate your interest. “Or maybe I just want to hear you talk a little more?” you added, figuring that it would be better to be honest. 

Information about the campaign Patrick was working on would probably go in one ear and out the other, but his voice was always a comforting, grounding thing for you. After having such a busy, stressful day, you couldn’t think of a single better way to unwind than to hear Patrick talk endlessly to you. 

Being the supportive fiancé that he was, Patrick did exactly that, telling you about all of the ins and outs of his day until you finished eating and drinking and were halfway into a food coma. 

Sensing your sleepiness, Patrick paused in his storytelling. “I was gonna run a bath for you, but I wanted to wait so it didn’t get too cold while we ate. What do you think?”

“I think I want to marry you right now,” you gushed, thrilled at the prospect of a warm bath to help you fully unwind from the day. 

As promised, Patrick set up a bath for you, complete with a candle-lit room and the soothing aroma of a bath bomb. You sat in a fuzzy robe and watched from your bedroom as Patrick set up the bath for you, flattered by his commitment to giving you a relaxing evening. 

After he was satisfied with the bath he put together for you, Patrick retrieved you from your bedroom and led you to the tub, as if you didn’t already know where it was. 

“Just yell for me if you need anything,” Patrick told you, letting go of the hand that he was holding.

“What if I need something now?” you questioned as you shed your robe and stepped into the warm, soothing water of the bath.

“What do you need?” he asked curiously, already preparing to get whatever it was that you wanted. 

“Well, I don’t need it, but it would be nice if you joined me. If you want to,” you added shyly, still worried about accommodating your partner years into your relationship. Patrick wasn’t always in the mood to do super romantic things, but after giving you such a nice night, it seemed far more likely that he would accept your offer. 

Your request was received even better than you expected, with Patrick making quick work of stripping and getting into the tub behind you, before letting you recline against his chest comfortably. 

The two of you sat in the tub for a long time, occasionally talking about whatever came to mind, but mostly unwinding in silence and sharing the intimacy of having skin-on-skin contact. 

Once again, you were sure that you could fall asleep right then and there, relaxed by a tiring trifecta of your dinner, the warm bath, and your fiancé’s comforting presence. 

“I never wanna get out,” you sighed contently, turning your head to dreamily look at your partner. 

“I don’t either, but I’m starting to worry that if I stay any longer, my skin’s gonna start falling off,” he showed you his pruning fingers to prove his point. 

“Ew,” you said simply, that being all you needed to hear to get you out. Besides, the water had gone cold a long time ago, and you were itching to lay in bed. 

“I want to get out, but I don’t think any of my muscles work anymore,” you explained as you watched Patrick wrap a towel around his waist after stepping out of the tub. 

“Is this your way of asking me to carry you to bed?” he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice. 

“Depends. Are you offering?” you fluttered your eyelashes at Patrick as if that would somehow sweeten the deal. 

Patrick gave you a wordless grin, one that told you that you were about to get exactly what you wanted. He helped you out of the tub and carried you to bed as he promised, before setting you down and tossing some pajamas at you.

After he cleaned up the bathroom, Patrick joined you in bed, where you were chewing on your bottom lip as you answered a few work emails. 

“Put that away,” Patrick gently chided you, shutting your laptop for you. “They can have you tomorrow. Let me have you for now?” 

You couldn’t argue with that logic, not protesting when Patrick took your computer and set it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. Though you really would like to get more work done, your partner was accurate in his assessment that nothing would change if you answered that night rather than in the morning, other than your peace of mind. 

Once your laptop was out of the way, Patrick wasted no time pulling you in for a passionate kiss, which felt like the perfect way for you to end your night. As his hands eagerly roamed your body, you thought about how this was something that you both earned, with Patrick treating you to such a lovely evening, and you needing this one final action to complete your night of relaxation. 

Just as Patrick found his way between your thighs, your heated moment was interrupted by the dejected sounding meows of your cat at the door, wanting to be let into the room. Both of you groaned, knowing that if you didn’t address the angry furball waiting for you, you really wouldn’t be able to enjoy your night. 

“We’ll pick this back up in the morning,” he promised you as he got out of bed. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” you laughed, sitting up and pulling your discarded nightgown back on while you watched Patrick open the door for your pet. Predictable as ever, she jumped into your bed and sat down where she always liked to sit between you and your fiancé.

“This has to be the most spoiled cat in all of human history,” Patrick commented as he sat back down next to the two of you in bed. 

“Whose fault is that?” you teased as you pet the purring feline. Though he would never admit it, Patrick somehow loved your pet even more than you did. You often found him holding and cooing at the cat, or doing research on new toys and puzzles to enrich her.

“We share responsibility for it,” he dismissed, causing you to giggle. 

“Sure,” you replied, not even bothering to hide the incredulity in your voice.  

As the two of you sat in bed, you settled into your typical evening routine, with Patrick reading a book beside you and you catching up with your friends over text. 

Out of the blue, your partner spoke up, grabbing your attention. “You still haven’t told me about how the presentation went.”

You groaned aloud and turned to look at your fiancé, reading glasses perched on his nose and an open book laid on his chest. His beauty, even in a moment of not being all put-together, felt like it should be a crime. 

“It wasn’t my best work,” you confessed. “It was kinda my fault. I’ve been so preoccupied with all the wedding stuff, that I basically just let Art throw together the presentation. I just felt so unprepared, but it’s fine, I guess.”

“I’m sure you did better than you think you did,” he assured you. “And if you didn’t, that’s also fine. It’s over, and I don’t think anyone’s gonna remember that you were a little unprepared.”

Though you’d reassured yourself with similar words, it was nice to hear it coming from your partner. 

“You’re right. Presentation aside, thank you for making me forget about the real world and all of my problems for a little while,” you leaned over and kissed his cheek, and felt your cheeks warm as Patrick followed up your kiss on the cheek with a real kiss. It amazed you how even after years of being together, he was still able to give you butterflies. 

“That was the goal,” he was obviously happy to see that this evening of sweet actions had the intended outcome, based on the wide smile on his face. 

You bit your tongue to hold back a sappy love confession, knowing that Patrick surely wasn’t in the mood to return you one, but you couldn’t think of anything else more obvious than the mutual love you felt sitting in that bed, thoroughly pampered after a rough day. 

As you laid there next to your grinning fiancé, you couldn’t help but wish that your wedding would come even sooner, so you could look forward to endless nights of domestic bliss. 

[stop-talking]

Open wide

Mike Schmidt x gender-neutral reader

2.8k words

Tags: 18+, no use of y/n, smut, porn with plot, extremely unrealistic scenario but it's funny, mike is a horny bastard & a sub, handjob (mike receiving), post-movie, mike's POV!

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Mike can't even remember the last time he went to the dentist.

Well, he CAN remember, he just doesn't want to. He was a child the last time he went, and only bits and pieces of the experience stuck with him. An old man poking bony gloved fingers into his mouth, having his teeth scraped with a hook, and being scolded for not brushing good enough.

Yeah. The dentist is not a fond memory for Mike. That's part of the reason he hasn't bothered to go in over ten years. (The other part being that he's spent most of early adulthood broke as fuck; and values groceries over trips to the oral hygienist.)

But with his new job, and the healthcare benefits that come along with it... well, he really has no excuse not to go.

So, he sits in a small room with blue walls and ocean-themed décor, squirming on the weird lounge chair. There's a giant mirror over his head, and he can't help but be reminded of those funhouse mirrors at the circus. The ones that twist and contort your face in an unsettling way.

"Hey, Mr. Schmidt, right?" You make your way through the door, scanning over a clipboard.

Is this the dentist? Mike scrambles to sit up in the awkwardly-reclined chair and hold out a hand for you to shake.

"Uh, just 'Mike' is fine." He gives you a weak smile and a firm handshake before leaning back against the chair once more.

You introduce yourself as a dental assistant, and when he thinks about it, that makes more sense. You look young, probably close to his own age. And... rather attractive, actually.

Fuck. Did you just ask him a question?

"Sorry, I... I'm not sure..." He stutters, doing his best not to squirm under your gaze.

This seems to amuse you, because you try and fail to suppress a chuckle. Shit. Was that the wrong answer?

"You're not sure what flavor of toothpaste you want, Mike?" You ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Mike sputters again, making a complete fool of himself. Before he can get out a complete thought, you cut him off.

"It's okay. Want me to just pick for you?"

He nods.

"Alright then, you look like a watermelon kind of guy. Is that fine?"

Another nod.

You smile and pull on a pair of blue gloves, matching your blue scrubs.

"Something tells me you haven't been here before."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Yes... and no. I read it on your medical record just now." You give him a teasing smile and hold up the clipboard you'd been pouring over when you walked in.

Mike laughs nervously at what he's pretty sure was supposed to be a joke, and watches as you pull up a chair.

"I haven't exactly been going to regular checkups." He confesses.

"Well then, let's see what we're working with. Open up for me?"

He squints as you turn on a harsh overhead light attached to the mirror and angle it down so it shines right in his face. Damnit, what is this? An interrogation?

"Open up." You repeat, not asking this time.

Fuck. Why is that kind of...? Ugh, no. Not even going there. Mike tentatively opens his mouth, still blinking through the interrogation-esque lighting above him.

"There you go. A little wider, now."

Your fingers immediately find their way into his mouth, prying his jaws open further.

Mike's eyes go wider than his jaw when you pull out a hook and start scraping it against his teeth. What the fuck? He's feeling more and more like this is some kind of torture and interrogation ritual.

"I know, hun. No one likes the hook. Just relax." You coo, placing a hand on the side of his face and wedging your thumb between his teeth.

He takes a deep breath and melts back into the chair, letting himself be soothed by your voice. Mike tries to focus on your face above him instead of the horrible metal scraping his bones. The backlighting creates a halo around your head as you lean over him, reminding him of an angel.

You seem to notice his staring, because you smile down at him.

"So, tell me about yourself, Mike."

Mike's brow furrows in confusion. How the hell is supposed to answer that with a mouthful of latex-covered fingers and metal torture instruments?

"Uhhh..." He lets out a strained gargle, the only sound he can really make in this moment.

"Interesting..." You chuckle, still scraping away at his teeth.

"Tell me more."

Oh. You're teasing him. Fuck that.

Mike rolls his eyes, trying to make it clear he's not in the mood.

"Sassy, are we? Careful. I do have a hook in your mouth."

Christ. Are you threatening him now? Is this how trips to the dentist are supposed to go? Mike has no idea. So, he lets out another grunt.

"Your teeth actually look really nice. You brush at least twice a day?"

Mike nods slightly, scared to move too much with the hook scraping dangerously close to his gums.

"Good, good. Your teeth are so straight and bright."

Now you're complimenting him? Mike can feel his brain go fuzzy as he stares up into your eyes. The paper mask you're wearing covers the lower half of your face, sure, but your eyes are... entrancing.

He tries to say a quick "thanks", but with your thumb still wedged between his teeth... it comes out as more of an "Aahhh". And sounds suspiciously like a moan. Damnit.

"Got something to say?" You laugh softly, removing your fingers and tools from his mouth.

Mike takes the opportunity to close his mouth and feel over his teeth with his tongue. They feel... different.

"Just, uh, thanks..." He mumbles.

"Of course, you're doing so well."

Fuck. Are his jeans getting tighter?

Mike tries to subtly adjust himself while you turn to grab something off the nearby table. God damnit. This wouldn't happen if he wasn't so damn touch starved.

You put a little hose in his mouth and explain it's to rinse his mouth out. Or something like that. Mike isn't really listening, instead focusing solely on calming the fuck down.

"Oh, and sorry if I'm talking too much. I just transferred over from a pediatric office, so I'm used to having to distract my patients while I work. You probably don't need that, do you?"

He just gargles a response, mouth filling with water.

"Wait, here, don't swallow that."

Mike can't help but think he'd swallow anything if you told him to. Ugh. His jeans are definitely getting too tight.

You stick a different hose in his mouth, and it sucks out the watery saliva mixture.

"You're fine... I haven't been to the dentist since I was a kid, anyways."

"Really?" You ask, eyes lighting up as you lean over him again.

"Y-Yeah."

"Oh, but your teeth look so nice! Keep doing whatever you're doing, hun." You cup his face in your hands, leaning in close and gently pushing his lips back with your thumbs for a better look at his teeth.

Mike squirms slightly, a little intimidated by your firm grip on his face and intense scrutiny of his mouth. He tries to tug the hem of his hoodie down in an attempt to hide his growing boner. Fuck, he feels like such a pervert.

Of course, his movement only draws your attention down to his... ''problem area''.

You must be pretending not to notice, because your eyes flick back over to the table. As you get up to grab something, you casually bump the door with your hip and it swings shut.

What's that for? Mike is too embarrassed to ask, so he just waits patiently as you make your way back over with a toothbrush.

"Open for me." You playfully tap his lips with a finger, and Mike does as asked.

"Good, good... we're almost done here."

Mike feels a lot more relaxed like this. Your voice is soothing, and he stares up into your eyes as you brush his teeth. It's strange to have someone else do it for him, but hey, at least you're not using the damn hook anymore.

After a minute or so of this, he starts to calm down, the tent in his pants dying down as well. Thank god.

"Alright, gonna rinse your mouth again. If you have any needs or concerns regarding your teeth, now's the time to tell me."

Mike gently shakes his head no, mouth filling with water as you rinse his teeth with the little hose.

"You sure? Nothing else you want?"

Are you... flirting with him? Or is this just how these things go? Mike's head spins as you put the toothbrush back in his mouth again.

"Just gonna brush your tongue... Say 'ahh' for me!"

Mike lets out a weak ''ahh'', that, again, sounds extremely similar to a moan. Fuck.

You slowly brush his tongue, going further and further back. Mike starts to shift in his seat, wondering just how much of his tongue he's supposed to be brushing. He certainty never goes this far, it's almost at the back of his throat... Still, he tits his head back slightly, letting you go even deeper.

"Damn. No gag reflex, or just used to this sort of thing?" You tease, smirking so obviously he can see it through the mask.

Okay, yeah. You're definitely flirting with him.

Mike just sputters and chokes in response, unable to speak while practically deepthroating the damn toothbrush.

"Sorry, let me get that out..."

When his mouth is finally his own again, free of intrusive fingers and oral hygiene instruments, he clears his throat. There's a familiar tightness in his jeans, and he's sure by now that you've noticed.

"Uhh... I..."

You take off your mask and he can finally see your whole face again. Your smile is attractive, no doubt, but also a little... hungry? You want something from him.

Mike isn't sure he could resist if you asked.

"So, you're sure there's nothing else... bothering you?" You ask, eyes trailing down to the tent in his jeans.

Ah, fuck. There's no hiding it now, huh? Mike tries to at least sit up slightly in the chair, but ends up a squirming mess instead.

"I..." He starts, swallowing hard.

"Are you offering...?"

As if to answer his unspoken question, you stand up from your chair and throw a leg over his.

He watches with wide eyes as you inch up his legs, straddling him and sitting just below his crotch.

"What do you think?"

Holy shit. What kind of a question is that? He "thinks" this is the hottest thing that's ever happened to him.

"More." He mumbles, bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your thighs.

That's all the confirmation you need, apparently. Before he can even process what's happening, you're grinding against his clothed cock.

Mike moves his hands up to your hips, watching as you remove the blue latex gloves with your teeth. God, that's got to be the most arousing thing he's ever seen, and he's not even sure why. He feels like a victorian man seeing an ankle. Is he really that goddamn desperate?

You brace your hands against his chest and lean in close, even more so than when you were prodding your fingers in his mouth.

Fuck. Mike decides he is definitely that desperate.

"You want this, don't you?" You ask sweetly, hot breath brushing against his lips.

He nods eagerly. Yes, he wants this. More than anything.

"Use your words, hun."

"I want this." He whines, bucking his hips up to meet yours while you grind on him. "I want you."

"I know." You whisper, bridging the small remaining gap between the two of you.

Mike kisses you back in earnest, moaning into your mouth when he finally feels your tongue slip between his lips.

He'd be content to stay like this forever, if his cock wasn't absolutely aching in his jeans. The grinding feels nice, yes, but he doesn't want to cum like this.

When you finally pull away and sit back up on him, he's left gasping for breath. Holy shit. Is this really happening?

"You really thought I wouldn't notice?" You ask, humming happily as you unzip his jeans.

Mike stammers out a response as you tug his pants down, squirming to help you get them off faster. He wishes you'd take the boxers off too, but he's not gonna push his luck.

"I-I couldn't help It... You're so..." He just looks up at you with pure admiration, letting his hands slide down your thighs.

"...perfect." Yeah, that's just about the only word describe you. No other would do you justice, not with how amazing you look on top of him like this.

"And you're already leaking."

Mike whimpers as you grope his dick, palming at it through his boxers. Fuck, you're not wrong. He can see the wet spot growing on his underwear. He tightens his grip on your thighs, desperate to feel you.

"More." He chokes out. "Please."

"Hmm... should I give you more?" You taunt him, giving his aching cock a firm squeeze through the fabric of his underwear.

"Yes!"

Mike is nearly shouting at this point, and tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He can only pray the room is somewhat soundproof.

"Well, I guess you have been good for me..."

You slowly peel down his boxers, and his dick springs up to slap against his stomach. A steady stream of precum is leaks from the tip, and his back arches from the sudden sensation.

"Fuck... yes... good... so, so good for you..." He bucks his hips up into nothing, desperately pulling you down his lap by your thighs.

He isn't thinking straight at this point. It doesn't matter that you're at work. It doesn't matter you're fully clothed. He needs you on his dick. NOW.

"Woah, woah... slow down, hun." Laughing, you take his hands by the wrists and move them to the armrests.

He doesn't resist, throwing his head back and groaning. He'd let you do whatever you want to him at this point. He just wants to cum.

"Please..." He whimpers, gripping the armrests tightly as your hand inches towards his cock.

"You gonna be good for me? And wait till I give you permission to cum?"

He nods, still bucking his hips up into your hand as you wrap your soft hand around his length.

"Say it." You demand, still just holding it, unmoving as he slips further and further into pure desperation.

"I'll be good f'you. I'll wait. I promise. S'good..."

Mike mumbles a barely-coherent response, half nonsense as he fucks your hand with even more intensity. He's losing it already, and you've haven't even started-

Fuck.

You start to jerk him off at a moderate pace, hand moving in synch with his hips.

"That feel good, hm?"

He just moans a response, too fucked out to form words. His hips stutter and he nearly comes just from the way you're talking to him.

When you take your hand away suddenly, he groans, reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer. You can't end this for him. Not yet.

Thankfully, you didn't seem eager to put a stop to things. You slide down his lap, resting right up against his cock.

"I swear, if you cum on my uniform, I'll make you lick it all up."

Shit. Mike nearly does just that as you lean down and furiously make out with him. It's the toothbrush all over again, with the way your tongue is punching down his throat. He's never felt this desired before.

One of your hands gently tugs at his curls, and the other pulls his lower back up into an arch as you grind against him. Fuck, If you don't slow down...

"I'm g-gonna... gonna cum..." He breaks the kiss, whining and desperately pushing back on your hips, trying to keep from finishing. He wants to be good for you. He really does.

"Do it." You whisper, moving down to kiss his neck as he whimpers.

"Cum for me."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike wakes up in a cold sweat, trembling and gasping for air. Shit, he had been suffocating with his face in a pillow.

And... fuck. Probably jutting his hips into the mattress, too.

He doesn't even have to look at his shorts to know they're ruined. Damnit. Another wet dream. At this point, he almost preferred the reoccurring nightmares. Almost.

Hey, his next dentist appointment is in... what, three months? Maybe this time he'd work up the nerve to ask you out.

Probably not.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────

Author's note: I'M SORRY. Literally no one asked for this. Probably no one but me has ever gone "haha what if Mike has a praise kink and gets hard at the dentist". But it was so funny to me?? I had to stop what I was working on and write it IMMIDEATELY. I hope it wasn't too deranged.

I like to imagine his little dream is at least half true. Like, he's touch starved and ended up with an over-friendly oral hygienist who joked with him a little too much. And it made him feel things. But everything from the point of the door being closed and onwards is just his own twisted fantasy.

[quinnysnursery]

Can you do a little!matt x fem!cg!reader? 🩵🩵

[🩹] stressful week recovery | matt sturniolo one-shot

paring : little!matt sturniolo x cg!fem!reader

summary : after a stressful week, matt's girlfriend knows just what her little one needs !

warning/extra tid-bits : Matt and his CG are in a romantic relationship outside of being a little and caregiver but this still does not make age regression sexual, y/n used (sorry guys its inevitable sometimes😿)

word count : 2,423

divider credit : MEEE c: i made it using canva guys!!

a/n : save me monkey jellycat i saw at the store today....save me... (sorry for any typos ! i'm just a girl !)

Friday, 8:10 pm.

Matt let out a loud sigh as he finally let his head hit his pillows, his entire body relaxing into the plush mattress. Closing his eyes and letting out yet another exhausted breath, Matt recounted the week he'd endured.

On Monday, Chris woke him up screaming they were missing footage and Nick needed it to wrap up the video. Tuesday, he was supposed to drive Chris to a dentist appointment and everything was going fine until...a simple flat tire caused Matt to make Chris late, which Chris wouldn't let go of for the remainder of the week.

Wednesday, they filmed. The familiar nickname of "Miserable Matt" returned...which sucked. Matt wasn't miserable, he wasn't even annoyed by his brothers at first. He was just overstimulated, the leather seats of the car too uncomfortable, the car too hot but the AC too loud. It was unbearable....maybe even miserable.

Thursday started out good. He ran a few errands with Nick and Chris, who still insisted that Matt intentionally made him late for his dentist appointment. That didn't matter though, because he was just joking....hopefully. Thursday was going so well in fact, that he decided he would take some instagram photos with the help of Chris.

Well, apparently Chris thought it would be so funny to intentionally make each photo blurry to some degree. "If I can be late to a dentist appointment, you can survive with one less photo on your feed." He teased as Matt held back frustrated tears the entire way back.

Today, Friday, was probably the easiest of all. He spent the entire day attempting to de-stress. He had to film yet another video, but this one was easier as Chris seemed to finally let the damn dentist grudge go. That's what led him to now, laying on his bed with a blaring headache as the stress of the week caught up to him. The yelling from Monday, the week-long teasing…the blurry photos.

Everything just felt too loud. Too loud, or too bright. Too big.

Shit.

Everything felt too big. Matt felt small, little.

Groaning, Matt evaluated his options. His brothers knew mildly of his regression, but there was no way in hell he was going to ask them for help. Not now.

He didn’t even necessarily want to bother his girlfriend/caregiver right now but this regression was coming on strong and there was no way Matt would be able to handle it on his own. 

As if on cue, the familiar sound of your text tone went off on his nightstand. Quickly sitting up and scrambling for his phone, Matt read your message through teary eyes.

‘mommy🤍: hey hun!! were we still on for that movie marathon? x’

Shit. In the hell-spiral that had been this week Matt completely forgot he agreed to a movie marathon with you. Chewing his lip anxiously, Matt typed out a response.

‘matty💙 : really sorry, i don't think i can. had a really bad week, i don't know if i can drive over :(’

It took less than a moment for a reply to come back.

‘mommy🤍: be ready in 20, bring your littlespace bag’

A smile managed to form on the brunette's face. Matt took a few more moments to calm himself down, the familiar fuzzy feeling beginning to become even more prominent on his mind.

“Not yet.” He thought to himself as he stood up carefully, grabbing the bag out from his closet. He took in front of his open closet for a few moments before deciding to change into a looser fitting t-shirt and sweats.

Matt sat back down on the edge of his bed, checking his phone once more even though he knew you'd be at least another 10 minutes.

Friday, 9:00 pm.

‘mommy🤍: in the driveway, need me to come get you baby?'

‘matty💙 : i can do it'

‘matty💙 : not little yet.'

Matt began trudging downstairs with his backpack cast over his shoulder, he was just gonna slip out the front door and avoid having to explain to his brothers why he was going to spend the weekend at his girlfriend's hous-

"Matt!" Chris called, peeking his head over the couch. God dammit. Matt turned on his heels, flashing a fake smile to both his brothers. "Where are you heading off too in the night?" Nick joked, "Kid looks like batman." Chris added with a laugh.

"Mysterious Matt." Both Nick and Chris agreed before bursting into laughter. Matt had to remind himself to take deep breaths to avoid crying once again. His brothers were just joking around with him, he was just sensitive.

He wanted to just slip out the front door, hurry across the driveway, slide into your car and let you take charge. He just wanted to regress.

“Uhm…(Y/N)’s picking me up.” Matt swallowed, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I'm staying the weekend." He added, reaching for the doorknob.

"Okay, loverboy." Nick said, Matt rolled his eyes at the old joke. The middle triplet stood awkwardly for a moment, the silence being interrupted by Matt's phone going off.

‘mommy🤍: everything okay?'

Smiling at the message, Matt bid his brothers a goodbye before shutting the door closed behind him. Matt smiled, the fuzzy feeling weighing down on his brain even more as he opened the passenger side door.

"Hey baby!" You smiled, "Look who I brought!" You reached behind you. You took a moment before pulling out Matt's beloved pug stuffed animal he'd left behind a few weeks ago, Mr.Wrinkleton.

A smile instantly formed on Matt's face as he quickly buckled his seatbelt, placing his backpack in front of him. "Mr.Wrinkleton!" The boy beamed, no longer feeling the need to fight off the obvious signs he was regressing.

Ruffling his hair, you put the car in park and began the drive to your home.

For the most part, Matt was silent. Only occasionally whispering something to Mr.Wrinkleton or pointing at something on the side of the road.

"Do you want mama to make you something? Or do you want something else?" You asked, turning down the soft indie music that was playing through the car speakers. Matt paused for a moment, thinking to himself.

"....grilled 'eese?" The brunette asked, looking over at you. "P'ease mama?" The puppy-dog eyes were now in full-effect. You smiled, glancing over at your boy, "Does Mr.Wrinkleton want a grilled cheese too?" You asked, "He can't have grilled 'eese! He's a pug!" The boy giggled.

Friday, 9:40 pm.

"One grilled cheese for Matt." You hummed, placing the plastic bear-shaped plate down on your kitchen island.

"No crust!" Matt beamed as he noticed you'd sliced the edges of the sandwich off. You nodded, wrinkling up your nose with a smile. "I cut it off, just for you." You tapped his nose playfully. "Do you think Mr.Wrinkleton would want the crust?" You asked, revealing a small blue bowl of bread crust from behind you.

Matt giggled and nodded enthusiastically, "Mhm!!".

Smiling, you place the plush dog in front of the blue bowl. "Eat your food angel, bedtime soon." You said, brushing his hair away from his face.

While Matt ate his grilled cheese, you silently snuck the pieces of bread from Mr.Wrinkleton's bowl into your mouth. The two of you enjoyed the comfortable quiet.

"Chris was bein' mean..." Matt mumbled, leaning into your arm. You quickly took your hand away from Mr.Wrinkleton's bowl as you turned your attention to your little.

"Really? What was he saying sweetheart?" You asked, snaking your arm around his lower torso and pulling him closer.

"Kept sayin' I made him late to th-the dentist on purpose..." Matt mumbled, his feelings quite obviously still hurt from Chris' comments.

"Oh honey..." You cooed as you felt Matt's tears trickle down his face and begin to dampen your shirt sleeve.

"A-And I didn't mean too! M' had to change the tire all by m'self!" Matt cried, abandoning his mostly-eaten sandwich to reach for your grasp.

Standing up, you gently led Matt to the couch allowing the two of you to collapse onto the cushions. Matt instantly scrambled onto your lap, curling into you.

"Shhh, I'm here. Just let it out." You soothed, wrapping your arms around your little, playing with the back of his hair. Matt cried, whimpering out a few more words about "blurry photos 'n lost footage".

You made a mental note to ask Matt about those things when he was no longer regressed.

"Mama's here....I've got you." You reassure, kissing the top of the brunette's head before he buried his head into the crook of your neck.

The two of you stayed like that for an hour. Matt unleashing the stress of his week through tears and you whispering reassuring words into his ear as you played with his hair.

Eventually though, Matt's tears turned to sniffles and sniffles turned to hiccups, which eventually turned to snores.

You carefully slid out from under him, taking a couch pillow from behind you and placing it under his head. You quietly went to your room, snatching the softest blanket you owned off your bed before returning to the living room and throwing it over your baby boy.

"Shhh, just relax baby." You soothed as Matt stirred in his sleep. Quickly, you grabbed Mr.Wrinkleton from the kitchen counter and his pacifier from his backpack.

Crouching in front of Matt, you softly tucked the pug stuffed animal under his arm before bringing the paci to his lips. Matt's eyes were still filled with sleep as they cracked open, "It's your paci, baby." You explained, a sleepy smile appeared on Matt's face before he accepted the pacifier, snuggling further into his covers.

You let out a content sigh once you were sure he was asleep once again, the gentle sounds of breathing and suckling noise from Matt's paci filling the room.

Saturday, 2:30 am.

"Mommy?" Matt called, peeking into your dark room. You awoke from your sleep, quickly turning to face the door and clicking a light on.

"What's going on angel? Something wrong?" You ask, rubbing your sleep-ridden eyes. Matt shook his head before sheepishly looking down at his feet.

You smiled, realizing what Matt was too nervous to ask. "C'mon," You called, opening up your blanket. Matt let out a small squeal, before climbing into bed and snuggling into your frame.

You let your boy get comfortable before beginning to play with his hair, both of you enjoying the safety of each other's presence. Just as you were about to let sleep take over once again, you heard a small murmur come from a half-asleep Matt.

"M' love you mama."

[ckret2]

Chapter 34 of human Bill Cipher not making friends with Stan during his imprisonment in the Mystery Shack, featuring: the tooth fairy and her dentist attempting to steal Bill's teeth in the middle of the night. Stan would care a lot less if he weren't still handcuffed to Bill. And also: Stan and Bill have a friendly chat. As you can see.

####

Even though Bill and Stan were trying to watch the same TV as they had dinner, Bill refused to sit in the living room with Stan; so he sat on the bottom step of the stairs in the entryway, Stan perched on the end of the couch, and they strung the handcuffs around the doorway with their little plastic microwave dinner trays balanced on their knees.

Both of their dinners had come out undercooked. Both of them were too proud to complain.

After picking through maybe a third of his meal, Bill decided he'd rather go to bed hungry than eat something he didn't enjoy, dropped his tray on the floor, and kicked it into the kitchen. "Hey Stanley, still glad you went with the cuffs instead of the bracelets?"

"Shut up."

Bill smirked victoriously, and looked back to the TV. "No mayonnaise in Ireland."

"What?"

Bill pointed at the screen and the rows of blank letters waiting for contestants to fill them in. "The round that just started. That's the solution."

"Oh." Stan counted out all the blank letters, frowned, and said unconfidently, "It can't be that. It doesn't make any sense."

"You're wrong," Bill said lightly; and then fell silent, running the tip of his tongue over the new gold spots on his teeth. 

When the contestants had guessed enough letters that one could hesitantly offer, "Is it... 'no mayonnaise in Ireland'?" Bill smirked triumphantly at the sound of Stan's silence. He just barely waited until the next board of blank letters flashed on the screen, and then announced, "Tip your waiter."

Stan counted the letters under his breath. "Man. I thought I was good at this, but we'd clean up if we put you on this show. No one would ever figure out how you're cheating."

Bill laughed. "Listen to you! If you were Ford, you'd just be mad that I'm giving away all the answers before you can guess. That's the great thing about you, Stanley: you don't get irritated at me for stupid little reasons. You're more fun." He took a deep breath and shouted, "Hey Ford, did you hear that?! Stan's the fun twin—!"

"Keep it down, you idiot. Ford's in the basement, he can't hear you." Stan had thought Bill was finally sobering up from the sedative; maybe not. (Then again, maybe this was just what he was like sober.) "And what are you talking about? You irritate me all the time!"

"Oh, well, I guess I just don't care when you're irritated." Bill laughed.

Stan grumbled, planted his chin in his hand, and tried to focus on Cash Wheel. It was difficult when he already knew the solution.

He tolerated the silence for less than a minute before sighing, looking toward the doorway, and demanding, "What's with you, anyway? Why are you so obsessed with my brother?"

Bill spluttered in disbelief. Stan could feel his handcuff chain jerk over. Voice even shriller than usual, Bill said, "Excuse m—Excuse me?! Obsessed? Moi?! I don't know what you're talking about!" He forced a loud laugh.

"If Ford's in the room, he's the only one you talk to, and when he isn't here you're yelling across the house for him—"

"Is it obsession to sometimes pay a little more attention to the human here I happen to know best and to whom I happen to be a teacher, muse, and friend—"

"Oh that's a load of bull," Stan snapped, "you're not any of those things! Friend? Friend? He wants you dead, you crazy—"

"Well if he does," Bill said, louder still, "then wouldn't it make perfect sense to keep my eye on the guy who killed me? There's no big mystery—"

"That's it! That's just it!" Stan tossed down his TV dinner and stood so he could face Bill properly. "He didn't kill you alone, remember? That was a two-man con you fell for! But you keep talking like Ford was the only one there!"

Without bothering to stand, Bill looked up at Stan and said, quite confidently, "Only one person killed me. You're just the place where I was killed."

"I wh...?" Stan fell silent, blinking at Bill in disbelief.

"Do you even remember what happened inside your brain? After you took my hand?" Bill asked. "You don't, do you?"

Stan glowered at Bill, but he shut his mouth and said nothing.

"I knew it." Bill laughed nastily. "We were both trapped in there when Fordsy fired the gun. Completely powerless. You were weeping and begging for a way out when the flames got too close, but there was nothing I could do by then—"

"All right," Stan took a threatening step closer, "I know that that didn't happen! I would never—"

Bill leaned back, hands raised palm out in appeasement, "Okay okay okay! All right, you got me—just embellishing the story a little—we actually had a big psychic laser battle. Imagined up all kinds of futuristic weapons. It was very 90's action movie. You did... fine, you were fine."

Stan considered that. "Ehh... sure, that sounds more like me."

"But it was all imaginary," Bill snapped. "It was a vast illusion! At that point there was nothing either of us could do to the other. We were just two victims locked inside a burning house as it came down around us. You didn't kill me, you never even had the power to kill me."

"Huh." That was all Stan said. But he kept looking at Bill, frowning distrustfully, studying him.

Bill's shoulders slowly went up under the pressure of Stan's gaze. "Oh—oh wow, okay, I see what's going on!" He gave Stan a crooked, mean smile. "You're jealous, aren't you? You thought offering up your body to be the scene of a murder finally made you a co-star instead of a sidekick! All your lives, Stanford got more attention from daddy, more attention from the teachers, more attention from the whole world... and you thought you'd finally get at least a little attention from the big bad living nightmare. Just because you let your brother shoot you in the head!" Bill laughed. "You weren't special enough for anyone else—why do you think you're special enough for me?"

Stan jerked Bill to his feet by the handcuff's chain. "I bet I'm special enough to break your face!" He dragged him into the living room, fist raised. "Let's see if you stay down this time—"

Bill scrambled back as far as the chain allowed him. "NO!" Horror filled the one ragged syllable. His free arm was raised to shield his terrified eye.

They froze, staring at each other.

Bill straightened up, forcing a nervous, rattled laugh. "Come on, I just got all this dental work done. At least give me a couple days to enjoy it before you pound it in!" He was talking fast to fill the silence. "Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't mind having a flatter face, all these bones and cartilage jutting out never did feel right—"

Stan feigned a punch.

Bill flinched.

Stan laughed at him, slapping his knee. "You big chicken! Look at you! Baw-baaawk-bgawk! HA!"

Bill tried, very hard, to explode Stan with his brain. This usually worked on people who dared try to insult Bill Cipher. "If I had one billionth of a billionth of my power, I'd have already destroyed you—!"

"But you don't, sucker!" Stan laughed louder.

Bill screamed in frustration, turned his back on Stan, and stomped upstairs to sulk.

Or, he would have, if he hadn't gotten one step up the stairs before the handcuffs yanked tight. He stumbled back, landed on his butt, and inadvertently jerked Stan down on one knee with a yelp.

Bill cast a resentful look at Stan—who was rubbing his shoulder and finally looking as irritated as Bill felt—and then he lay down and deliberately stared straight at the ceiling. "Whatever. I don't even care about your pointless mammal posturing. It's fine. It doesn't bother me. I'm calm. You're just making yourself look stupid." Bill shut his eyes. "I wanna go to bed."

####

"Bill," Ford said.

Bill cracked open an eye and peered up at the form looming over his makeshift cushion bed. "Mrm?"

In a very calm voice that suggested he was not calm at all, Ford asked, "Why are you sleeping on the floor in front of my bedroom door."

"Oh. Right, you missed it." Bill yawned and sat up. "Well, you see, Stanley got us handcuffed together until tomorrow morning," he pointed at his cuffed wrist and rattled the chain, "and I tried to be accommodating, but he doesn't want to sleep in the attic and won't let me sleep in the guest room—"

Stan yelled through the door, "And Mr. Accommodating here still refuses to sleep on the sofa bed."

"—so the best compromise we've got is sleeping on the floor with the chain under the door. Not my idea of a fun evening, but." Bill shrugged ruefully, like an adult resigned to indulging the whims of a petulant child. "Do you want in? It'll take us a little coordination to get the door open, but we've already done this once, so—"

"I'm not messing with this," Ford said. "I'm sleeping in the basement. Good night, Stanley."

"Night, Ford."

Trying not to sound miffed at being snubbed, Bill said, "Hey, do you still keep your cot on that rug you used to channel me better?" He laughed.

"Nope. I burned that rug." Ford turned the corner and left.

Bill stuck his tongue out at his back. He didn't actually know whether Ford was lying. He wished he'd thought to check out Ford's study before heading down to the portal back when he'd had his time tape.

"Hey." He rapped on the bedroom door. "I thought we weren't asking Sixer for help so he wouldn't find out about the handcuffs." They hadn't actually discussed it, but he'd taken it for granted. "Now that he knows, why aren't we getting his help?"

"What, you think I need his help to solve all my problems? Ha!"

"Okay, fine. Doesn't matter to me, I'm used to sleeping on the floor." Bill lay back down and sighed.

He shut his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

####

Bill wasn't quite dreaming, but for a few seconds it was something very close to a dream. He saw points of light in darkness. One of his earliest, oldest memories. He'd memorized the constellations outside of his plain when his starblind species didn't even have a word for "constellations."

But these weren't those points of light in darkness. Some nearer, some farther—he could sense their distance—and all of the lights were calling to him. All of his eyes. He could see so many more than he had last night.

One was just a few inches away. He could almost reach out and grab it. 

But those few seconds of light-in-darkness were in the gray twilight between the dreamscape and the physical world, and Bill only fleetingly glimpsed them as he passed from sleep back to wakefulness. He opened his eyes.

To see a person looming over him.

And the taste of thick metal tools in his mouth.

"Hi," Bill said, for lack of anything better to say under these circumstances.

It was enough to make Dr. Illing gasp and stumble back from Bill. "Jeez." He clapped a hand over his heart. "I'm sorry— I-I didn't want to—"

"Uh-huh." Bill sat up and took the abandoned tool out of his mouth—pliers. They'd been gently clamped around one of his canine teeth. "Not the most unpleasant thing I've had aimed at my face in the middle of the night," Bill mused, "but it's pretty high on the list." He tried to lift his other hand to feel his face for damage—and only remembered the handcuff when the rattling chain caught his wrist in place.

They both looked at the cuff. As Dr. Illing realized Bill was trapped, a change came over his face—a desperate, crazed fury.

Bill shook his head. "Ohhh, no no no—"

"Give me that!" Dr. Illing lunged for Bill, one hand reaching toward the pliers and the other toward his throat, trying to pin him against the door.

Bill shoved his feet in Dr. Illing's chest, trying to hold him back. "Stanley!" He pounded on the door with the pliers. "We have visitors, wake up!"

"It'll only take a second," Dr. Illing insisted. "You were going to give me one anyway! And that tooth is already loose! You can handle the pain! Just—hold still, I can't damage it!" He managed to get his thumb in Bill's mouth—he cringed when Bill bit down, but didn't back off—and pulled a fresh set of pliers out of his tool bag.

Bill parried the pliers with his own pair. "STAAAN—"

The door unlatched and Bill tumbled backward into the room. He twisted out of the dentist's way, slid the handcuff chain out from under the door, and skittered behind Stan.

"Wha—what's—?" Stan squinted into the dark hallway. "The heck's going on?"

Bill stretched to Stan's nightstand and grabbed up his glasses and hearing aids. "Put your face on!" He shoved them in Stan's hands, then reached back for his dentures.

Stan put his glasses on first. "What the— Illing? What are you doing here?"

Dr. Illing stood forlorn in the hallway, trembling all over, eyeing Stan nervously. "Uhhh," he said eloquently. "I just..." He gestured around Stan's shoulder toward Bill, "wanted to check her fillings. I thought one of them might be a little loose—"

Bill's cackle cut through his excuses. "Oh, come on! I know your boss put you up to this! What does the little lady want with my mouth?"

Dr. Illing's eyes widened. All he managed to produce was a squeak.

Stan said, "What 'little lady,' this guy's self-employed. What are you talking about—"

"The tooth fairy, genius!" Bill flung his free hand in the air. "Why did you think your dentist pays you to pull your teeth! He lives in a van, who'd you think was funding him?!"

"Uh," Stan said. "You know, I sort of just took his whole 'creepy sadist who bribes people to let him pull their teeth' shtick at face value." (Dr. Illing's shoulders slumped.) "But—I know things are weird around here, but the tooth fairy's gotta be fake, right? That's the stupidest..."

A fairy popped out of Dr. Illing's bag—just large enough to use an adult man's hand like a chair, with a bob cut so white it almost shone, giving off a glowing toothpaste-blue aura, wearing a necklace of baby teeth like a hunter who'd taken trophies from the bones of her kills.

"Oh," Stan said. "Well. Never mind. Just one more crazy thing in this town."

Bill's back went stiff, his eyes widened, and he curled his fists into the fabric of Stan's tank top like he was holding his shield in place. "Oh, she's here." He lisped an inhuman swear under his breath.

Ignoring them, the tooth fairy glowered up at Dr. Illing. "How did they know? What did you tell them!"

"Nothing!" he protested. "I swear! I'd never!"

"Well, you must have let something slip—"

Bill swallowed hard; but then he straightened up, let go, and stepped into the open. "Why, if it isn't Miss Pearl E. White, in the fae flesh! To what do I owe such an honor?"

Dr. Illing and the fairy both flinched. She asked, "How do you know my...?"

"Oh, Pearl. I know things you couldn't even dream of." Bill favored her with his best, widest, most unnerving grin.

And got the creeping sense that she'd stopped looking at his face, and started staring at his teeth. He pressed his lips together. "And here's just one thing I know: lady, if you were toeing the line of your treaty any harder, you'd be tripping across it. So tell me what you're doing here and what you want."

She huffed defensively, wings buzzing as they lifted her several inches in the air. "I'm well within the terms of the treaty! I haven't laid a hand on you and I'm not about to start, and I've been offering more than adequate financial compensation—"

"Oh, right," Bill laughed, "I'm sure the queen of your court would be thrilled to hear you ordered your legally-dubious helper to rip out someone's teeth in the dead of night—"

"Hi," Stan said, "question. What the hey are you guys talking about. Treaties? Queens?"

"Oh, this is all going over your head, isn't it! I'll catch you up." He turned to the side to point accusingly at Pearl, "Little miss enamel-happy here has a thing for teeth. To the extent that she started stealing them straight out of humans' mouths. She went so crazy that the local human settlements actually declared war on her court over her dental kleptomania—and the fairies she dragged into the conflict weren't any happier about it than the humans were. So now, under the conditions of a human-fairy peace treaty, she's only allowed to acquire already freed teeth that are voluntarily offered to her by their owners—which is why she started bribing children."

Pearl crossed her arms, fuming. "That's a very biased version of events. You're just trying to paint me in the worst possible—"

"Save it, sparkles! I woke up with your minion's pliers in my mouth, I'll be as biased as I want!" He shifted his attention to Dr. Illing—who seemed to wilt under the force of Bill's glare. "But she's getting deep in a gray area working with this guy. Once a tooth is handed to a dentist, he's its 'owner,' and can freely give that tooth to the tooth fairy—but him extracting the tooth puts the whole operation on shaky legal ground. Really, I think the only reason you've gotten away with this racket so long is because nobody's filed a legal challenge with the fairy court yet."

"Nobody's complained about it," Pearl said hotly.

"None of your victims know about it," Bill countered. "Hey Fisherman," he jabbed Stan's arm, "how do you feel knowing your teeth were sacrificed to the tooth fairy?"

He considered that. "Well—it was free."

Pearl crowed, "Ha!"

Ignoring Stan's reply, Bill blithely moved on: "But by any reading of the treaty, hiring a human to steal teeth straight out of someone's mouth is beyond the pale. So you'd better have a good explanation for this!"

"Yeah. I do have a good explanation." She sucked in a deep breath. "I want your teeth!" She launched herself toward Bill; Dr. Illing had to grab her around the waist to hold her back. "I'd do anything for those teeth! They're the most amazing teeth I've ever seen!" She clawed at the air, hissing and straining as she tried to reach Bill.

"My lady, please," Dr. Illing said pathetically. "The treaty—"

She aimed a swipe at his face. "I know about the stupid treaty!"

Bill stared at her, baffled. His perfectly normal human teeth? But he shook his head, smiled, and said, "Well okay, fantastic! It's been a while since I've bargained with the fae, but I'm not too attached to this body—so how much gold do you have on you, kid?"

"We're not bargaining. You already know too much," Pearl snapped. "I'm not about to get blackmailed by a human, and I'm not going back to fairy jail. So here's what's happening." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward Dr. Illing. "I'm gonna have my guy rip out every one of your teeth, and then rip your head apart so you can't talk, and the only negotiating you get to do is whether or not my guy uses the local anesthetic before he starts. So what's it gonna be?"

Dr. Illing went deathly pale and his knees shook as he verged on fainting.

"Hey," Stan waved at the fairy, "listen, I'd love to see this guy's head get ripped apart, but—crazy thing, long story—it turns out there's fifty-fifty odds that killing him could end the world. So, maybe let's talk this out—?"

Pearl gestured dismissively at Stan. "His mouth has nothing left of interest to me. He's a witness. Kill him, too."

Dr. Illing swallowed hard; but, with trembling hand, he reached into his tool bag and slowly pulled out a large power drill that definitely wasn't designed for teeth.

"Right," Bill said. "Okay. This'll be fun." If he said it convincingly enough, maybe it would be true. "Hey, Fisher—you know that spell Sixer's got on me? If I cast it on Frankie here, can you..."

"Yeah, I see where you're going."

Pearl's eyes narrowed. She pounded her tiny fist on Dr. Illing's finger. "Hurry up, before they—"

Before she could issue a warning, Stan charged at them, fist raised. Dr. Illing flinched, shielding his face with the drill; but Stan dodged around him, heading for the hall. Bill seized Dr. Illing's upper arm as he passed—"Amnesia Limina, Stupidi Digiti, Occultus Locus!"—and then Stan yanked Bill out into the hall by their chain and slammed the bedroom door.

Dr. Illing gasped. "What?"

Blue light radiated through the cracks around the door as Pearl darted around, shrieking, "Open the door, you idiot!"

There was a moment of futile scrabbling. "How?!"

Bill and Stan retreated to the entryway. Bill said, "If we get outside, we can lose 'em."

"Or get the car and run them over," Stan said.

"You don't wanna be the guy who kills the tooth fairy! She might be in the doghouse, but she's still old fae nobility. Her court would—"

Bill cut off as Stan opened the door. Instead of leading to the porch and the forest beyond, it now opened into a bone-colored cathedral, the arches and vaulted ceilings constructed out of what looked like small irregular pebbles: teeth.

Stan gaped at the vast chamber. "Where the heck...?"

Bill looked at what had once been the outside of the door; the numbers "13 / 32" were carved into the wood. "Nowhere we want to go! Shut it!"

Stan slammed the door.

"That explains how she got in," Bill muttered. "There's no time to un-enchant this exit, we'll need another one."

Stan pointed toward the living room. "We can go out the—"

"The floor room exit." Bill dragged Stan back toward the hallway they'd just left.

"What?! That's the other end of the house, you idiot, the gift shop's right through here!"

"But it's a straight shot down the hall—" Bill stumbled to a stop.

The tooth fairy was clawing her way out from under the bedroom door. She caught sight of Bill, and her wings raised in a sharp V like a wasp preparing to attack. "You!"

"Never mind."

Stan dragged Bill back toward the living room. "Now can we go—"

Bill saw the living room—that familiar dark room, the familiar walls and carpet, the familiar armchair facing the doorway as though welcoming him back, the pale blue light from the fish tank climbing the walls like flames—and Stanley Pines, dragging Bill by a chain toward this tomb—and he grabbed on to the staircase railing. "Up."

Stan jerked to a stop. "That's a dead end!" He tried again to pull Bill toward the living room. "Are you insane?!"

"Yes." Bill locked his hand around the railing like a corpse in rigor mortis. He'd break his fingers before he let go. "We're going up."

"We are not—"

The tooth fairy shot past them like a glowing blue bullet, streaking into the kitchen. Stan started, and Bill took the opportunity to drag them up the stairs. Stan finally followed.

"You're not getting out of here with my teeth!" Pearl screamed after them.

"Ignore her," Bill muttered, "she can't risk touching us and she knows it. She's powerless without her minion." He stumbled on a step and just kept climbing on all fours.

"I wouldn't bet on her self control!" Stan struggled to keep up, his cuffed wrist in the lead. "Why are we going this way? How do you expect to get out from the attic?!"

"I don't know! It just seemed like a better idea! Do I have to think of everything?!"

"This was your plan!"

"There's got to be a ladder in the storage over the kids' room, we can get down out a window."

"I don't keep ladders—!"

"Well maybe Jesús does, do you know everything in the attic?! Come on!"

Bill kicked the door to the kids' room until Stan opened it. After a short argument about who should climb to the storage loft ("I have to look, you can't see in the dark!" "And you can?! Since when!" "Since always! You didn't need to know!"), Bill scrambled up the makeshift rungs nailed to the wall while Stan climbed halfway up to give the handcuffs a little slack.

As Bill started searching for anything useful, Pearl's ranting filled the shack: "Those teeth are too good for you!"

"I think she's getting closer," Stan said. "Find anything?"

"Not yet." Bill pulled out a broken umbrella with a hooked handle. He clung to it like it was his only defense as he scanned the loft for any signs of a ladder.

Pearl went on, "They're the most beautiful, pristine, unblemished, perfect teeth I've ever seen in my life!"

Bill asked, "Are they really that great?" He'd never paid that close attention.

"Eh..." Stan shrugged and made a so-so gesture with one hand. "A little weird-looking, honestly. They've got those jagged bits in the front that make 'em look like kids' teeth?"

"Huh."

"They're pure," Pearl snarled. "I've never seen adult teeth so pure! And you're ruining them by drilling out chunks of perfect enamel for unnecessary fillings! You don't have the right to those teeth! I deserve them!"

"Hey Bill," Stan said. "So you knew my dentist works for the tooth fairy, right?"

Bill was dragging aside a large box to see if anything ladder-like was hiding behind it. "Yes."

"And you knew she goes crazy for nice teeth."

"Yes." No ladder; he moved to another stack of boxes.

"And it didn't occur to you that she'd be furious that you carved up your new teeth."

"It's in the past, Stanley! Focus on the present!"

"—and I don't even know how you got magic teeth," Pearl continued. "Fully adult teeth in a fully adult mouth, but somehow they're barely a month old! It's impossible! I could barely believe it myself until I saw your mouth with my own two eyes! I must have those teeth, as soon as possible, so I can preserve them exactly like this, who knows if I'll ever find such a novelty again—"

"Ahh, so that's it," Bill said. "Welp, nope, didn't see that one coming at all."

"She's been shouting a while without actually coming after us," Stan pointed out. "What's she up to?"

Bill paused. "Check." He lay down and stretched his cuffed arm down from the loft to give Stan enough slack to peer out the bedroom door.

Stan frowned. "Huh. Weird."

"She's upstairs?"

"Yeah. But she's just flying in a circle. With... I think a veggie container from the fridge?"

Bill sucked in a breath. "Do we have mushrooms?"

"Wh—yeah? How'd you..."

"What!" Bill half-climbed half-fell to the attic floor. "That little cheater's making a fairy ring! That's not fair!" He leaned out the door with Stan. "She's probably already made the matching ring downstairs. We have to destroy it before—"

The circle of chopped portobello mushrooms glowed white; and with a glittery puff, Dr. Illing appeared in the ring.  He coughed out a lungful of fairy dust.

Pearl pointed at Stan and Bill and screamed, "Get them!" With a murderous scowl and terrified eyes, Dr. Illing stared them down and revved his drill.

Stan yanked Bill back into the bedroom and slammed the door.

Dr. Illing whined. "Aw, f—again?!"

"Just break through it!" Pearl commanded. "It's just wood! You have power tools!"

"He can't do that," Bill said confidently. "Doors don't work like that."

Stan said, "He can do that." A power tool whine announced Dr. Illing beginning his assault on the door.

"Oh." Bill considered that, eyes scanning the bedroom from one side to the other, mouth set in a grim line. "I have an idea." He pointed toward the window with his umbrella. "Stan, open the window." He hooked the umbrella over his elbow as he ripped the bedsheets off Dipper's bed and started tying the corners together.

Stan shook his head in disbelief. "You don't really expect us to climb out that window on bedsheets, do you?"

Bill dragged Stan closer and murmured in his ear, just quiet enough that their assailants wouldn't hear him over the power drill, "No, I expect them to think we climbed out the window, while we hide in the closet in the alcove. Once they're past us to check the window, we can sneak out and run downstairs."

"I don't like hiding like cowards instead of fighting. Illing's rickety, we can take him."

Bill kept tying bedsheets. He picked up Dipper's zodiac blanket, flinched, and tossed it to the floor on the other side of Dipper's bed rather than add it to his chain. "Funny—you didn't seem to have any problem hiding for a week while I had your brother prisoner."

Stan grabbed Bill by the shirt, dragging him closer. "You wanna say that again?"

Bill's hands shot up next to his face in surrender. "Sorry, sorry, sorry—"

"There were people in this shack I wanted to keep safe," Stan growled. "I'm not half as fond of you."

"Got it," Bill squeaked. He pointed toward Mabel's bed. "But I can see a dozen futures that end with our brains splattered across Mabel's dolls. I do not want to fight power tools."

There was a crack as the drill flung the first few splinters of wood free from the door. Stan's scowl deepened, but he let go of Bill and nodded.

They tied the bedsheet rope to a table leg, opened the window, and flung the rope out the window; then retreated into the alcove at the other end of the room, pulled shut the ragged curtain that hid it, and closed themselves in the closet to wait for the tooth fairy and Dr. Illing to break in.

####

(Thanks for reading!! If y'all enjoyed, I'd love to hear what y'all think! Next week we conclude both with the tooth fairy and with whatever the heck is going on between Stan & Bill.)

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Ooo can I please request Tangerine x fem!civilian/innocent reader where Tan and Lemon are sent on a job but said job ends up being against young mom Y/n and her baby girl. They do not go through with the job (I feel like they have their moral limits), and instead bring Y/n to their safe house and protect her, then going after her awful ex instead

Limits

Usually, their job was easy. But there was some times where they didn’t go through with it.

They did get in trouble for it, but they didn’t care. If it was against their morals, they wouldn’t do it. But they’ve never seen anything like this job.

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎

You sat on the couch, sighing and turning on the tv. Lemon and tangerine looked through the window, slightly confused on who you were. They decided to watch because they quite literally got no details about you, just a picture. They didn’t know if you were dangerous or not.

Then, just as your eyes started to close, cries erupted from inside your baby’s room. Your eyes snapped open, you seethed and hit your head on the back of the couch repeatedly in frustration. You got up, and went into the nursery and picked your baby up. You sat them down on the floor, they whined and cried as you quickly went ahead and made a bottle for her.

“Sh, sh, sh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” You muttered, and laid them on your lap as you fed them.

A text appeared on your phone. Your ex.

“Hey. Hope your doing good, just wanted to see how you guys were doing.” He texted.

You texted with one hand, and fed your baby with the other.

“I’m fine. We’re fine. Thanks for asking.” Was all you texted back, and turned off your phone.

Little did you know, that he was the one who sent the two men currently watching in the window.

“So.. we’re just killing a girl and her baby? An innocent girl and her innocent baby?” Lemon asked, sighing and rubbing his temple.

“I’m not killing any child. I already told them that so why the hell are they giving us these jobs?”

“Everyone else is busy apparently.” Lemon said, and peeked back in the window.

“I mean, what if the girls not innocent?” Tangerine asked.

“I guess so. We’ll just have to wait and see, I guess.” Lemon said.

After a while, you had to leave the house. Tangerine followed you in a car while Lemon went through your house to see anything suspicious.

You put your baby in the car seat, they made noises the whole time.

Tangerine followed you to the store, he waited after a little bit then decided to go in. As you walked in, a homeless man was asking for money for some food. Your baby smiled at him as well and he laughed and talked with you for a bit.

You smiled at him, and gave him some.

Okay, someone who is a threat would not give homeless people money. Tangerine thought.

After you shopped a little and then you went back into the car, putting the stroller away and putting them in their car seat.

You drove back, and he texted Lemon quickly. “Get out, she’s on her way home.” As he got in his car and followed you.

You felt like something was off when you got home, you looked around and it seemed fine.

You shrugged it off, and your baby was tired so you put them to sleep.

You then sat on the couch, yawning and falling asleep.

“Okay, so I hacked into her phone because nothing seemed odd, and turns out she’s just a normal person. She’s a single mom, and her ex clearly wasn’t… good.” Lemon said when he saw tangerine, remembering the texts you had sent to your friend. “She’s a dentist. She seems like a normal person to me.”

Tangerine sighed and thought.

“Ok. So… who would want her killed? For fun? No. I’m not doin’ it.” Tangerine said, and sent a text to their handler, he would be pissed but this happened sometimes and he was used to it.

“Good, you wanna go now?” Lemon asked, and he nodded. They walked from the corner quietly, but Lemon dropped his phone in the bushes.

“Wh- how’d that even happen?!” Tangerine groaned as Lemon reached for it, making lots of noise in the process.

Your eyes opened and you heard an noise and talking next to the window. You furrowed your eyebrows and went out the house. Two men walked past your house on the sidewalk.

“Hey!” One said, trying to be friendly.

“Hi.. are you guys.. new here? I’ve never seen you before.” You asked them.

“Nah, just visiting some family.”

“Oh, ok, got it.” You nodded.

“What’s your name?” The one with the mustache asked.

“I’m (your name). You guys are..?”

“I’m… Aaron. That’s Brian.” He said, pausing when he saw you. You were very attractive, he thought.

(I’m going off their actors names)

“Hello.” Lemon said to you.

“Hi! I wouldn’t wanna keep you guys though, so I’ll let you go to your family.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine it’s fine, uh we’ll see you around.” Tangerine smiled at you and continued walking.

He would definitely be coming around again if it meant he could see you.

[upsidedownmvnson]

reader is insecure about big boobs | eddie munson

warnings: reader is insecure about big boobies :(

requested by anon <3

"What's left on the list, my love?"

Eddie Munson was a powerhouse of a boyfriend, always. Not in sheer strength, but just in general boyfriendiness. Today you guys were out and about in town, just running errands for you. So far today you'd gotten your haircut, went to the dentist, did the groceries for your house, dropped something off to your friend, and now you guys were at the mall, eating french fries and taking a little break.

Not once did Eddie get annoyed, bored, or impatient. He just followed along, performing finger drum songs in various waiting rooms while you were busy. In fact, you'd told him it would be boring but he insisted that he be your private chariot for the day.

You unfold the weak paper. It's been folded and unfolded this sheet so many times that it was just begging to fall apart. The blue pen was fading as if you hadn't written this last night.

You sigh, "just bra shopping."

"Best for last," Eddie grinned, rubbing his hands together.

Obviously, he'd never been bra shopping before. You had. You would spend the next hour trying on bras that don't fit and will end up paying forty bucks for a bra you don't even like, and barely fit into, like one weight flux and it would start gathering dust in your drawer.

But what are you supposed to do? They never have your size, and when they do they're neon pink, or have the same effect as a sports bra, and you already wore a sports bra enough. You wanted something sexy, something to push up the girls and say, "hey look at me! I probably don't have stretch marks from being pulled down to her belly button all the time!"

But you do...

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes before you could even say anything else. Bra shopping is the worst and you'd already had a long day.

"Hey, hey," Eddie said softly, recognizing the overwhelmed look in your eye. He stood up and shimmied around so he could sit beside you in the booth. "What happened? What's wrong, Petal?"

"Maybe we should just call it," you said, wiping at a tear that managed to sneak out. "And I can do this tomorrow."

"Wouldn't you like to just get it out of the way? I can help you real quick and then I can take you home, we can set up a movie night and just relax the rest of the day? How's that sound?"

It sounded really good. And the way he spoke softly and kindly reassured you that he's got your back, and he probably wouldn't even laugh at you if you told him the truth, which you were considering. Maybe he could even help?

"What if I can't find anything?"

"Then I'll take you somewhere else."

"What is they laugh at me?"

"Then I'll burn the store down."

You laughed, and he smiled, putting an arm around you and pulling you into his side. He kissed the top of your head a few times before resting his chin on your head.

"C'mon Petal, tell me what's bothering you."

"Eddie, have you ever been bra shopping? I have watermelons strapped to my chest, nothing fits! And when it does it gives me uniboob. And uniboob even costs like a thousand dollars - and even then, I'm- I'm..." you sniffle, trying not to cry in the middle of the food court.

"Baby..." he cooed, holding you tightly. He didn't care if people saw the pda, he would comfort you when and where you needed it. You couldn't see his face, but where you imagined him cringing, he was just smiling sadly. He hated that you felt like this. "I wish you saw what I saw."

"I wish you felt what I felt," you said. "They're literally weighing me down."

"I have a solution."

"That's not you just holding them up all day?"

"I do not have a solution."

"It's just frustrating."

"I know baby," he said, "Can I just... I don't want to make it worse but baby, you are so gorgeous. Top to bottom, just perfection. I know you might hate them, but personally..." Eddie sighed, you were still smushed into his chest, but pulled away to see his face. He pushed his own chin into his neck to look down at you, but somehow still looked ridiculously beautiful. He grinned. "Personally I like when they spill through my fingers."

"Eddie!"

"What!? It's so true, there's so much to grab. To kiss. Ugh, just suffocate me with them so I can die happy."

You giggled, "Okay you win for now. Let's go do this - but if I need to talk to an employee I'm making you do it."

"Deal."

As you gathered your stuff, Eddie watched you. Honestly shocked that someone as beautiful as you even found time to bother with insecurities. He would do literally anything to make you see yourself the way that he sees you.

He takes your bags, holding the girly shopping bags with no hesitation or problem.

And he says, "but I can help you hold them up later, right?"

[vettelsdarling]

Hey Lissie! Another Hamilton 5+1 for you because I love the format, hehe. Straight to the point, here it is:

5 times Y/N woke up without Lewis and one time they woke up together.

I can definitely see a potential for angst and a bit of misunderstanding or yearning?! Lewis can either be a f1 driver or have it as an AU with another job! The prompt needs a good reason of “why” for the absence and I am more than certain your mind will come up with a brilliant answer. I am thrilled and again, have fun!

𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Lissie note… I love this prompt so much ugh!!! I changed it a slight bit to falling asleep rather than waking up (just for dramatic effect). Thank you for the prompt, love<3

Things to note

Reader is a paralegal

Lewis is frequently gone for races

They’ve been dating for 4~5 years and live together

There is a tiny age gap but it isn’t that bad

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x gf!reader

Warnings: Slight angst???

Word Count: 5.3k+

Playlist recommendations: 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭💔, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗

Taglist: @allwaysalleyway, @drugged-kitkat, @darleneslane, @littlesatanicassholebitch

His arms were warm. They were comforting to lie in and snuggle into. He trailed his fingers gently through your hair, as you slowly dozed off.

That was a dream.

The cruel reality of the real world, in the form of an obnoxious iPhone alarm, woke you up. It was already 6 AM, and your routine consisted of a hefty amount of self-care. This meant that you had about 10 minutes for a shower, 50 for hair care, and 30 for skin and makeup. Breakfast was out of the question. So much for self-care.

Before you left, you made sure to feed Roscoe and give him his well-deserved cuddles. Things had been hard ever since Coco passed, but Roscoe was still a happy spirit.

You went to the garage, noticing your boyfriend’s all too famous purple Mercedes. Your heart stung for a second, but you brushed it off. It was important to support his endeavours, instead of sulking about him.

You decided to go with your vintage beetle. Driving around in it was what kept you grounded. You’d gotten it for your 18th birthday from your parents. Not from your lover.

The fact that you didn’t quit your 9-5 paralegal job was also rationalizing, you didn’t stay home and leech off of your rich man. He was more than just a wallet. He was your partner. Besides, the media had already started to suspect that he wasn’t single anymore. Though he hadn’t been for years. The two of you had met coincidentally over a cup of tea with your boss. Lewis was his client and you were the first to oversee the situation before handing him off. That was about 6 years ago. For four, the two of you had been together. You had only given him your number regarding his case, but he’d taken the opportunity to ask you out.

Now, the two of you lived together in a mansion overseeing a large forest. It was quite far from your workplace, but you didn’t really mind. Having to wake up early was a small price to pay for the tranquillity of the surroundings. Although it would’ve been more tranquil, had you had more time with your lover.

Alas, there was nothing you could do about it.

1 |  Shades Of Cool

You sat there on your dreary chair in your dreary office. The white walls hypnotized you into thinking time was going much slower than it actually was. You stared away at it for a while, before someone knocked on your door.

“Hey, can you please do these briefs? I need to clock out for a dentist’s appointment in a few minutes. I promise I’ll owe you.” You accepted the pile and started going at it. Work usually made you forget the empty feeling of not seeing him often. Sometimes you even thought of staying all night. However, for Roscoe’s sake, you never stayed past dinner time. He couldn’t be alone for too long. It wasn’t fair to the poor boy.

It took hours and hours to get through the pile. You clocked out well past midnight and stopped by a pub to pick up some food before driving home. You knew a huge “sorry” was in order for your dog. He hadn’t seen you for several hours, definitely missing you.

You had 12 missed calls from him. Even though he was on an entirely different continent, he somehow found the time to call you. 12 times no less. You decided to call him back after finishing your dinner and making yourself comfortable next to Roscoe on your sofa.

“Hello, love.” You heard from the other end of the line, as he turned his camera on. There he was. His exhausted, but beautiful face. His hair wasn’t tied up. It was relaxed and so was he.

“Hey, Lewis,” you said and turned on your camera, showing yourself next to his beloved dog,

“Roscoe’s here too.” He let out a huff, which stirred a chuckle out of your boyfriend.

“How’s work? How are you doing?” He asked, knowing that you dreaded most of your coworkers if not all. Additionally, he knew that every day was the same at the office. You handled briefs and got files in piles by your superiors. It sucked.

“It’s okay… same old same old. How’s Spain?” You were so used to staying in the UK, you’d forgotten what it was like to travel. As a paralegal, you didn’t have the luxury to do so that often.

“It’s great. Did you see the videos I sent you? This car is incredible, darling.” You hadn’t seen them for one very specific reason; your heart would clench. It would simply give out at the sight of your boyfriend. Missing him was always a big problem, but with races being back-to-back… it hurt that much more.

“I haven’t had the chance to yet, no, but I’ll check them out later.” The hesitation in your voice must’ve been apparent, as he decided to ask into it,

“Something wrong?” You didn’t want to worry him, so you told a little white lie. You were simply just tired. That was it. That was all. Knowing him, he’d worry too much to focus on driving, which was the exact opposite of what you wanted for him. Besides, it’d be selfish of you to make his work all about yourself. Gosh, you really couldn’t stand your obsessive thoughts.

“Well, I promised Valterri I’d meet him at the gym. Sleep well, darling.” You blew him a kiss goodbye before shutting off the feed and turning over. Roscoe huffed and curled up beside you. It was dead silent except for the few wind rustles you heard from the open window next to the TV. It didn’t feel tranquil. No, you were lamenting the thought of being alone for so long. You hated it. It wasn’t an issue during the day. You had chores and you had work to do, but in the evenings when everything always gets quieter— your mind gets louder.

Roscoe was sleeping soundly next to you. Your hand stroked him gently whilst you scrolled through your Instagram feed. Naturally, you ended up on Lewis’ page. He was highly selective of who he was following. You, however, were amongst the few that he did. A smile spread across your face like room-temperature butter would be spread on a piece of bread. You didn’t appear much on his feed, as you liked being private. Though the posts you did appear in, all had captions with romantic undertones. You really were in love with that man.

I can’t break through your world, ‘cause you live in shades of cool…

2 | Sad Girl

The sun had already come to greet you. It was an early Saturday morning, which would’ve been peaceful— had you not forgotten about the LSATs. You woke up on the sofa that you’d passed out on the night before. Dried drool decorated the corner of your lip. What time was it? You checked your phone, only to realize that your battery was low and the test was in an hour. The sudden sound of your phone ringing sent you scrambling to answer it.

“Hey, are you on your way? I studied all night… Hopefully, we can do this.” Your friend, who usually sat in the cubicle opposite you, whined. She wasn’t a strong test taker, based on the fact that it was her 5th time taking the LSATs. 7 and she’d be all done. No more chances. In comparison to her, you were going in for the first time. You’d studied, but you had no idea how the whole thing would turn out. The tests only got harder and harder every year.

“I am, I am. The traffic is just insane at the moment. I’ll see you there.” You hung up and swiftly ran around the house to get ready. Roscoe was reasonably confused at the rush you were in. You kissed his wrinkly forehead before shutting the door behind you.

For nostalgic reasons, you decided to take Lewis’ purple Mercedes. It was the only one of its kind, so it’d make sense if some people recognized it. You didn’t care. It felt like Lewis was still with you, even if he was in an entirely different country. Speak of the devil, your phone buzzed. One message from him… “Good luck with the LSATs, darling”. Your heart clenched. You missed him so.

Traffic turned out to be light and breezy. Luckily, you made it in time for the test. Being a paralegal had its benefits, but it was and would always be a step below the real deal. You weren’t a real lawyer until you took the LSATs. Then, there was the deal with the bar exam as well. That was another story.

“Did you do good? I croaked. I’m toast. I’ll have to take it again…” said your defeated friend and munched down on her lunch that she brought.

“I don’t know. Maybe? I don’t really care at this point…” Of course, you did, but your mind was too occupied by the absence of your lover to hold an actual conversation. He expected you to tune in on his races whenever you had time to do so, but the fact of the matter was— you never could. It made your heart ache with longing. A painful longing for him to come back home. Especially on weeks when the race weekends were happening back-to-back. 

“I guess you don’t need to worry. You’ve got your boyfriend’s money to take care of you.” Although you barely listen to all of her blabbering about the test, that particular thing got through to you.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah. You’re literally dating a celebrity. You’re set,” she chuckled.

“Do you actually think you’re being funny right now?” She likely didn’t mean any harm, but with your pent-up agony and rage, it was hard not to let loose on her.

“Calm down, I was only kidding…” You’d made a scene. You were uncomfortable, things were awkward, and the only place your mind wandered to was Lewis.

“You know what, I’m sorry. I’m just really tired after the test. How about we catch up soon? I need to head home.” Your heart was pounding rapidly in your chest as you put the keys in the ignition. It almost felt as if you were an irrational teenager again. His absence did a number on you. It wasn’t always like that though. Throughout the previous season, he would always do whatever he could to see you in person. Whether it was bringing you with him, or flying back home. As the following season started, the two of you realized how unethical and harmful the solutions were to the environment. Coupled with the fact that you were trying to become a lawyer, there was no way to see him. No way to be held by him. No way to fall asleep in his arms.

That night, you stared into the ceiling for what felt like hours. The spot next to you was empty. Completely untouched. The sound of the gentle wind rustling the trees outside helped your brain work its wild imagination. Vivid pictures of Lewis played over and over and you couldn’t help but feel as though the two of you weren’t meant to be. You had conflicting schedules and you couldn’t just take a weekend off every week to go with him to his races. He couldn’t stay for your sake either. He had a job to do. A job that millions of people depended on for their entertainment. Were you an obstacle? All these thoughts drove into your heart like a stake. You wept. It was inevitable. You’d tried to not do so because you knew he wouldn’t want that… but it was hard. Too hard. Your vision was blurry and the sounds of the nature surrounding you were dimming slowly. You were falling asleep.

You haven’t seen my man…

3 | Off To The Races

Sunday morning was brutal. You woke up with a pounding headache due to having cried yourself to sleep. The sun made your situation much worse, blinding you as you tried to get out of bed. Upon checking your phone, you saw a slew of unread messages from your beau. All of them were minutes apart, making it clear that he’d been trying to reach you throughout the evening.

21:30- Hey, you’re not answering your phone, so I just wanted to text you instead. How are you?

21:55- Are you there? You’re usually not asleep at this hour…

22:45- I suppose you may be busy or asleep. In that case, sleep well baby❤️

22:46- Call me whenever you wake up

“Fuck,” you sighed and went to the bathroom. The reflection in the mirror seemed unfamiliar. You didn’t look like yourself at all. No, that wasn’t you. The face looking back at you had swollen eyes and redness coating the corners. Its mascara had been running and dried, giving the face a crustier look. It felt as if you were some little kid who couldn’t stand to be alone for the day, whilst their mother went out to buy groceries. It was embarrassing.

After feeding yourself and Roscoe, cleaning yourself up, and doing chores around the house— you decided that you’d turn on the TV to watch your boyfriend. You were too late for lights out, as they were on their 10th already. It didn’t matter though, for Lewis was in the lead. He had mentioned how good his car was, but you didn’t imagine a 20-second gap. It was pure insanity. 

Finishing on top, he ran to embrace the team with a smile. The cameraman followed his every move, and as he did so; Lewis came up to him and stared directly into the lens.

“I love you,” he said. Your heart keeled over and you felt your tear ducts get to work again. It was impossible to watch the rest of the celebration. You shut it off and went to calm yourself down. Breathing heavily in front of the bathroom mirror made you feel like a fool. Love made you weak, but it was a good kind of weak whenever your darling was around.

After a hearty nap, you woke up to your phone buzzing itself off your nightstand.

“Hello?” Your voice was jagged and rough from just having woken up.

“Are you okay? You’re not sick, are you?” His voice was breathy and exhausted. Physically, he was obviously worse off than you.

“Hey, no-yeah, I’m okay. I saw you out there today. You did so great, Lew.” His nickname was one that he adored. The way it rolled off your tongue made his heart flutter with joy.

“I’m glad you saw it. Did you… see the celebration?” He was obviously referring to the message he left for the camera. Your heart pumped faster and faster with adrenaline.

“I-uh… I did…”

“So?”

“I love you too. You know I do.” So much so that it hurt that he wasn’t next to you with his arm around your neck. You wanted to lean against his shoulder as he read you stories that his mother used to read to him. Fuck, it hurt.

“When are you coming back?”

“We still have a few things to do here. Thursday? I’ll be home for two weekends after that.” It was better than nothing, though hearing him say it felt like a long time. 

“I understand… I just hope you maybe miss me as much as I miss you?” Yeah, you stooped to that level. Your desperation was starting to reveal itself. Layer by layer.

“Are you insane? Not a second goes by without my thoughts being consumed by you. All I’ve ever thought of this weekend has been you. Staying safe for you, training hard for you, winning… for you.” For a moment, he almost sounded frustrated. But it was just a mask for how deeply he felt for you. The two of you sat in the same boat, rocking through the crashing tides of longing together. Each move was careful to not let the other drown.

“Are you crying?” He asked, careful not to step on any thorns.

“No…” you replied with a slight sniffle, signalling that you obviously were.

“It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ll be back home before you know it.” You wanted to hug him. You needed it so badly.

I’m your little scarlet, starlet, singin’ in the garden. Kiss me on my open mouth…

4 | Video Games

It was Monday, which meant that you could be distracted by your otherwise unforgiving job. Being a paralegal, your duties often consisted of briefs upon briefs which took up most of your 8 hours. You were crammed into a small cubicle with little to no space for any of your personal possessions. You’d hung a few pictures of Lewis and yourself and that was about it.

You stared into the dull computer screen, feeling the existential dread looming over you for every number you typed in. Your eyes were basically goo and the bags dragging them down were more apparent than ever. It would’ve been a pitiful sight for your coworkers if you weren’t surrounded by walls. 

“Hey you, wanna grab lunch together? Same place as always. It’s on me this time… since I owe you.” Even an invite to free food wasn’t enough to fully pull you out of your trance. You slowly forced your sluggish head to turn and meet your friend’s. The look of horror etched onto her face was enough to let you know you needed to get outside. 

“Sure… I guess.” You dragged your feet along the floor as you followed her to the elevator and outside.

“Is it Lewis again or shitty briefs?” She put in her sunglasses and led the way, locking her arm with yours to not look like she was dragging you against your will.

“Honestly? Both. I don’t get why I keep missing him this much, and I don’t get why some briefs suck that bad.” Lewis was one thing and briefs were more of a frustration. Nothing to cry over, really. You generally enjoyed what you did, so there was rarely anything to complain about. The job was cushy and allowed a lot of free time after hours. Team building exercises were scarce, but not to the point where conflicts arose every day. It was fine.

“We’ll have our usuals,” she said to the waitress.

“Look, you can’t control every aspect of your life. It’s meant to be unpredictable. Briefs suck sometimes, you’re going to feel bad about your boyfriend being gone— c’est la vie.” You knew she pulled that straight out of a podcast. At least the general gist of it.

“Whatever. I guess you’re right, that’s life.” You were just about to jump into a different topic when you heard Lewis’ ringtone from your purse.

“Sorry, I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” You scurried off to the restroom to take the call.

“Lewis? Why are you calling?” A bit harsh with his lack of context.

“Am I not allowed to call my girlfriend who, by the way, is very missed?” Just hearing his voice brought back the life that all those briefs drained you of.

“Of course you are… I’m just out for lunch right now.” You felt like a schoolgirl sneaking off to the bathroom to call your beau.

“Sorry, I forgot you usually do that. I was just checking in to say hi before I go in for a meeting.” His voice was so happy-go-lucky, it made you wonder if he missed you as much as you did him.

“… when are you coming back?” You heard a sigh on the other end,

“They’re keeping me here until Wednesday. I’m really sorry, babe.”  Of course. It was as if they didn’t want him to go home. Whilst you supported his job and did whatever you could do to show it— you wanted nothing more than for him to stop everything and be with you.

“It’s okay, we can wait. You should focus on your stuff, okay? Good luck with the meeting, Lew.” Luckily, he wasn’t able to see your face. It didn’t match your uppity voice.

“Thanks. See you soon.”

“Bye.”

You left the bathroom and went back to the table where your friend had begun eating. You followed suit and got back to the office after you finished.

After hours, you stopped by a deli to grab a sandwich to eat for dinner. Roscoe greeted you at the door with a huff and followed you to the dining room. The entire house felt empty without your other part to fill it with joy.

That night was another filled with tears and running mascara.

Pull up in your fast car. Whistling my name…

5 | Go Go Dancer

Your depressive slump had faded after the realization that you only had to survive one more night without him. You decided to call in sick and cash in on a few hours for yourself. It was going to be a personal day. You needed to pamper yourself. 

Your eyes were still bloodshot from all the crying, but your soul was cleansed of any negativity. Your favorite playlist was on and you began your day of treating yourself like royalty. All of your skincare was out on your vanity and Roscoe sat in the bed behind you. A warm bath was the first thing you did. Whilst flicking on a rom-com, you sat and soaked in the lavender-infused water. Thereafter, you retreated back to your bedroom. Your hair was up in rollers and your bathrobe clung tightly to your damp body.

Today was a day with no briefs, no worries, no salty bosses or annoying clients. You had all the time in the world for yourself. You ordered brunch and whilst you were waiting for it to arrive, you finished your skincare and makeup. After finding something to wear, you picked up the food from the awestruck delivery guy. He complimented your garden and your house. If there was one thing you enjoyed, it was gardening with Lewis. The two of you had worked tirelessly to make the front yard look perfect.

You ate quickly, drying your hair and styling it afterwards. Roscoe was fed and you were already through most of the day. 

You pulled out your nail kit from your stash of beauty products and laid out a protective layer on your bed. The playlist kept shuffling through some of your favourites. A gorgeous purple colour appeared before you under the tons of polishes you had. It was perfect and you knew Lewis would love it too. Not that you did it for him. You brushed layer after layer until you were satisfied with the result. It was glossy and simple. Just purple. Sophisticated, but not boring. The process was repeated on your toes as well.

After that, you decided it was time for some movies and popcorn. Lewis never really enjoyed things like popcorn, only ever allowing himself some dark chocolate with his espresso out on the veranda. So, you had to go out to get some. Since you lived quite remotely, you had to drive for a bit before the nearest store appeared. It was worth it though because you spent most of that night with comfortable blankets, popcorn, and bad rom-coms.

Roscoe was beside you all throughout the night, keeping you company with his huffs here and there. Pure tranquillity was what it was, and you couldn’t wait to do the same with Lewis the next evening.

The current movie had to be paused though, as you heard your phone ringing. It was your coworker.

“Hey? What’s up?” You asked, trying to sound hoarse.

“I just wanted to know if you were okay. Heard you were sick.” It sounded like she wasn’t fully sober and on public transport as well.

“Are you drunk?”

“No- yes- you tell me. We just went out for a drink after work today.” She was very clearly slurring her words beyond sensibility.

“We have work tomorrow, why would you ever do that?” Nobody had the guts to do something like that when your job consisted of aiding clients in stressful financial or legal situations.

“We don’t, actually. All of us were just fired on the spot today. He fired us all,” she chuckled and let out a hiccup.

“What?! What’s that supposed to mean?” Your heart sank. Your job… it was just gone.

“Yeah… I don’t know. I think he was in debt or something. Couldn’t keep it going so he decided to sink us all down with him.” You always pictured the CEO as someone with gravitas and money, but apparently, it was all a front.

“What do we do? Can’t we report it to HR somehow? Sue him for wrongful termination?” Admittedly, as calm and collected you usually kept yourself with work-related issues— you were panicking.

“There’s nothing we can do at this point. The entire company has gone to shit. Wouldn’t want to go back there if I was given a raise.” It sounded like she got off the bus, as you heard the doors open.

“You’re lucky you have Lewis. He can take care of you, right?” There was that dreaded guilt of leeching off of your boyfriend. It was a fear that kept gnawing at your ankles, eventually making it to your throat, knowing you had just lost your job.

“I… I don’t know what to say right now. I’ll call you later when I’ve thought about all of this. See you.” There was nothing more to say. It stung that you were in a position where Lewis had to take you under his wing. It felt wrong. It felt criminal.

You really couldn’t catch a break no matter how hard you tried. Something always prevented you from enjoying life as it came.

… and that night you didn’t sleep at all. You stayed up all night contemplating what to do, whether to sue, whether to leave Lewis and tell him to live a good life?! You were going insane. Embarrassment consumed every fibre of your being. The thought that you would depend on him for your survival…

I'm the girl next door, let me come in. I know I go-go dance but I do it for kicks. I never have to work ‘cause my daddy is rich…

+1 | Once Upon a Dream

You’d fallen asleep in the late afternoon after working on a lawsuit against your former boss. It didn’t matter if you’d get it thrown out of court. You just wanted to fight as much as you could. Your great lawyer friend agreed to help you out, representing both himself and you in the case.

Lewis tried to call you several times with no answer. He wasn’t one to worry about you, since he trusted you and knew you wouldn’t do anything stupid. He disregarded it and tried to enjoy his flight home. He was exhausted and just wanted to come home to his little family.

You usually called him before he’d take off, assuring him that you’d be waiting for him at the airport. However, this time was different. You didn’t call and you didn’t answer. His options were limited, forcing him to take public transport. He didn’t want to call a taxi, as they’d be able to note his address and could potentially put you in danger.

People took pictures and some asked him for signs. He didn’t mind it, though he was falling in and out of sleep. When he got off his stop, he decided to walk the rest of the way. The weather was fair and didn’t look like it would change for a while.

On his way, he stopped by a florist to buy you a bouquet of your favourite flowers. He knew you loved having them on the dining table to show any guests.

He wasn’t far away and could see the garden of your house from afar. Meanwhile, you were still buried under your blankets with the lawsuit on your laptop on the coffee table in front of you.

The sound of the front door clicking and closing could be heard, but you were too far gone in your sleep to notice. He called out your name with no response. You weren’t in the bedroom. You weren’t in the kitchen. No, there you were. Your face was buried in the arm on the sofa and the TV was still playing a movie he remembered watching with you some time ago. He saw your laptop, reading some of the contents that were visible on the screen. It didn’t quite make too much sense, but he didn’t want to pry in case it was private.

“Hey… I’m home.” He shook you gently and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Being something of a light sleeper, it woke you up almost instantly.

“Lewis?” Your eyes fluttered open, as you had to adjust to the light. You saw the face of your lover and embraced him in an instant,

“Oh, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, darling.” He stroked the back of your head as it rested on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come get you, I was caught up with work and I fell asleep.” It wasn’t a lie per se. It worked… sort of.

“It’s fine. It’s completely fine. You seem distressed, are you alright?” There was nothing you could hide from him. One way or another he’d find out anyway.

“I lost my job. We were all fired.” He was almost as shocked as you were the night before,

“Are you serious? Why?”

“My best guess? The company was sinking.” You sighed and picked up your laptop. The document already contained 3 sections and 15 pages. You were, however, far from done.

“My friend and I are trying to sue. I’m not sure if it’ll hold up in court though.” Your face looked droopy and sad, something Lewis hated.

“You know what? It’s going to be okay. I know it seems rough, and it is. But look on the bright side. We can find you a better job. Better pay, better equity. Plus, for the time being— you could come along to my races. We wouldn’t need to be separated all the time.” He was right. Your job was cushy, but it had its faults regarding exactly the issues he pointed out. The feeling of missing him constantly didn’t bode well with you either. It was a win-win, really. You weren’t actually depending on him, because it didn’t hurt to ask for help every now and then. Especially when the two of you were so in love.

“Yeah… that’d be nice, actually. I do need to file this lawsuit though. I need it.” Lewis nodded in agreement and smiled,

“Of course, love. You do what you need to do. I’ll be here to help.” You closed the laptop and smiled back at him,

“I think we should cook some dinner. What do you have in mind?”

“Anything. It tastes amazing as long as you make it anyway.” The flattery never stopped. As cheesy as it was— you loved the sentiment.

“Right. I’ll see if we have some rotten eggs and spoiled milk in the fridge,” you joked and he chuckled,

“I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, Lew.”

That night, you fell asleep with his arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest. You could hear how his heartbeat synced with yours. This was complete tranquillity, and you couldn’t believe that this would be your reality for a long time now.

I know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once. The way you did once upon a dream…

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.) (Please note that just liking the taglist will not put you on it!)

[rockingrobin69]

Want

Malfoy did this thing where he only used a finger and a thumb for crisps. He’d wade through mud without a second thought to retrieve Scorp’s ball from the hissing nettles, he put his arm up to the elbow in cold spaghetti sauce on a dare, he rolled down not one but three different hills with Teddy on their hikes, but when it came to crisps, he was his perfect lordly self. A finger and a thumb going in neat motions, barely even crinkling the bag. A dignified amount of crisps pinched tightly, brought slowly into his mouth. So careful and clean and entirely unintentional. He didn’t even know he was doing it.

Harry did.

Harry noticed everything about him. Hard not to when Malfoy was like this, weird and loud and awkward, pathetic and incredible and everywhere. When Teddy adopted him and Scorp (officially, with a letter he’d hand-written, signed with a drawing of, randomly, a horse); when they moved in, and Malfoy’s pyjamas became a recurring vision, llamas and tiny buttons following even in his dreams; when he found the stray cat, named her Nibbles for no earthly reason; when he was a menace, and Harry adored it. Him. Adored—the whole thing, how their lives suddenly became this, tight and uncomfortable and too warm and perfect.

Teddy was no help. He practically had love-hearts for eyes whenever Malfoy walked in the room. All these ‘Draco, look!’ and ‘Draco, can you—’ and ‘Draco, Draco, come sit next to me!’ that drove Harry spare. And Scorp was such a tiny little thing in all his Molly-made-jumpers, babbling with a look of utter importance and following Teddy around, and cackling with joy whenever he was in Malfoy’s arms. And the cat, fucking, cat, always getting kisses and—

No, Harry wasn’t jealous, that wasn’t quite it. He was… overwhelmed with how gentle it all was. Never really imagined life could be like this, didn’t think he’d want it. Discovered he did with such terrifying intensity, that he yearned for something that wasn’t quite nameable, that he somehow almost had. It kept him up at nights and filled his days with this weird, feverish joy. It was soft and itchy and all his. Almost his. So fucking close to being his.

And Malfoy was right there, sitting across from Harry with his ankle on one knee and the bag of fucking crisps and the way he was eating them, almost—decadently, and utterly, helplessly serious. On the rug, Harry realised he probably loved him.

Stretched, leaned slightly to his side until he was touching Malfoy’s knee. “Hey,” he said, swallowed.

“Hi.” Malfoy offered him the bag. “Want some?”

“You eat crisps funny,” Harry said for an answer. “All cleanly and stuff. It’s funny.”

“Oh. Well. Always happy to amuse you.”

He was so ridiculous, with the little stickers he let Ted and Scorp stick on his socks, on the sliver of his leg that was visible. It would hurt like hell to rip these out, all the fine blond hair caught underneath. Harry couldn’t breathe for a moment, it struck him so hard.

It was the middle of August and a really cold day. All the lights in the living room made it look like… something Harry wanted so badly. Instead of trying to make it into words, he leaned his head against Malfoy. Allowed the fingers threading through his hair. The movement so, so gentle.

“I’m picking Ted early from school tomorrow,” Malfoy announced some time later, in this awful voice he used for Scorp, or when Teddy had a nightmare. “He hates the dentist, so I promised to take him on a walk after. Maybe the hill where we went last month, the one with the waterfall.”

Harry hummed something delighted and heartbroken. Buried his face in Malfoy’s thigh, surrendered to the feeling of his hands, of his warmth.

“Harry… I meant, do you want to come with us? Sorry. That’s not—wasn’t quite clear.”

Buried his face tighter.

“Or—maybe we can go another day? Just us. You and me, I mean. There’s this place I think you would like. If you absolutely insisted, we could take Nibbles along on her lead.”

Brought his head up, pouted at Malfoy’s pretty face. “No, that’s…” stopped when he noticed the smile. When he realised that this thing that he wanted was already his. Pressed a tiny kiss to Malfoy’s shin, to a sticker of a star on his hairy leg. “You are,” Harry said, and meant it from the bottom of his heart. Breathed, breathed. Sat there and grinned to himself.

The bag of crisps crinkled. The afternoon went on, lit and weirdly warm. It was the life Harry didn’t know he wanted, that he ached for, that he had.

(If you enjoyed this, I've recently shared the first part of Wonderful on AO3. Consider checking it out for your pining needs).

[lunaflowers]

falling (chanyeol x reader)

pairing: step brother!chanyeol x reader word count: 2.8k+ genre: smut, angst warnings: slightly dom!chanyeol, slightly bratty!reader, pseudo incest, cowgirl position, dirty talk, some degradation, name-calling, hickeys, breeding kink, lots of angst synopsis: you've fallen in love with the one person you can't have author's note: this ended up being completely different than what it was meant to be but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. unedited.

It was your first time visiting home since you’d moved out months ago to go to grad school. You’d missed the place. You were looking forward to sleeping in your childhood bed and eating your mom’s cooking and playing with your baby half-sister, Mimi. You were even looking forward to your step dad's diatribes on politics and the future of the country. The one thing you weren’t looking forward to was–

“Hey YN,” Chanyeol, your step brother, opened the door with a small smile on his face. He was currently serving in the military and had a couple days off to be at home. Chanyeol’s father had married your mother when the both of you were 16. He and his father had moved into the house you and your mother shared and although it was initially an adjustment, you were happy to see your mother so happy after such a long time. You’d never known your own father, being the product of a one-night stand during your mother’s younger, wilder years, and your stepfather seemed to balance out her somewhat flighty personality.

“Hey Chanyeol,” you said, a little uneasily. The only issue was your super hot, tall, stepbrother. As soon as you met Chanyeol the first time, you felt an immediate attraction to him. And he obviously felt the same as within a few weeks of him moving in all those years ago, the two of you had ended up in bed together, losing your virginities to each other.

As time went on, you and Chanyeol began having sex whenever your parents were out. Every single time you swore it would be the last time, but try as you might, you couldn’t resist him. It wasn’t just sex. Chanyeol was funny and sweet and jovial and just so much fun to be around. You didn’t understand how you were expected not to fall for him.

He pulled your luggage from your hand without asking and began to carry it to your room. You followed him, “Where’s my mom? And your dad?” The house was quiet, not bustling with activity the way it usually was with a toddler buzzing around.

“They took Mimi to her dentist appointment,” Chanyeol replied, putting your bag down beside your bed. Mimi was the sister that you and Chanyeol shared, a cherub-faced two-year-old who was excessively doted on by both her mother and her father. It was sweet, like they were both desperate to do the parenting thing right this time now that they had a partner to do it with. “They just left so they probably won’t be home for an hour or two.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the feeling in your gut. “Well, that’s a shame. I’ll just wait for them then, I guess.” You were being awkward, which wasn’t like you. But you felt awkward and you didn’t really know how to hide it. Spending time alone with Chanyeol was dangerous. You were your weakest self when you were with him.

“YN,” Chanyeol said suddenly, grabbing your hand. You froze, looking into his eyes for the first time since you got home. “Come on. Shouldn’t we talk?” He rubbed the back of your palm with his thumb, a familiar gesture. It was enough to make you feel slightly flustered.

“Chanyeol…” you let out shakily, “There isn’t really anything to talk about, is there? It’s wrong.” You tried to end it last time you saw him. Really end it. You figured that now that you were going off to school, putting considerable distance between the two of you, maybe it would stick. But it still didn’t seem to do so for him.

Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is it?” He pulled you in closer, moving his hand so that it was gripping your wrist now.

“Don’t do that. You know it is. Don’t start trying to justify it just because you’re horny and–”

“No. Don’t fucking demean it like that. I love you. I’m in love with you. We’re in love with each other.”

“Shut up!” you said shrilly, terrified that someone would hear even though you knew that the two of you were alone in the house. “It doesn’t matter what you say or what you feel because it’s wrong.” You emphasised the last word as though Chanyeol were a simpleton and you were losing your patience with him. “You’re my brother.”

“Step brother. We’re not related by blood. Besides, it’s what you feel too,” he shot back, pulling you in even closer now and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You couldn’t help it. You put your hands on his chest. He just felt so solid and familiar and yours. He was your weakness and you’d never been particularly good at resisting temptation but you knew you needed to try.

“Loey, please,” you looked at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is. I said last time that it couldn’t happen again. It’s not right.”

“You say that every time,” Chanyeol said, ignoring your pleas. He forced a kiss onto your lips and just like that, it was as though a switch had been flipped in you. You melted into him, kissing him back. It was so fucking easy for him to make you surrender to him and you would’ve been ashamed if you weren’t so overwhelmed with desire. 

He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist automatically, keeping your lips attached to his, tasting his familiar taste. The want for each other was palpable. You wanted this as much as he did and you both knew it.

Chanyeol put you down on your bed and got on top of you, moving down as he kissed and bit your neck. You didn’t stop him. You wanted to be marked by him. You’d figure out how to cover up the hickies later but right now all you wanted was to be owned by him, to be filled with him, to be fucked senseless on his cock.

You let him pull your top up over your head and expertly unsnap your bra. He pulled it off, throwing it to the ground and then grabbed your breasts with both of his hands and buried his face in them. He began squeezing and kissing them, biting them, taking your nipples between his teeth. Chanyeol loved your breasts. They were easily his favourite part of your body and he was like a kid in a candy store anytime he got his hands on them.

“Loey, let’s make it quick, huh?” you smiled, biting your lip. Even though Chanyeol had said your parents wouldn’t be back for a while, you were still slightly nervous.

“Sorry, you’ve just got perfect tits,” he said breathlessly. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you replied, teasingly. You knew Chanyeol was popular with women and that he slept around. It wasn’t like the two of you were together in any real sense of the word so you couldn’t really be upset about it. And he’d never been in any sort of serious relationship as far as you knew. 

“I don’t,” he said, more seriously than you’d anticipated. He pulled his own shirt off, reaching behind his neck and removing it the way guys did. He then unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down your legs, taking your panties along with them. He stuck a large hand between your legs and began rubbing your clit. “What do you want?”

“I wanna ride you,” you said, fully naked now.

He smiled, “Good. I need to see those tits bounce.” You rolled your eyes as pulled his sweatpants and boxers off, laying down flat on his back.

“You really need to work on your dirty talk, you know?”

“Don’t need to be good at dirty talk with a cock like this,” Chanyeol said, stroking it a few times, hard already. Chanyeol did have a great cock. Well, he had a great everything but his cock was particularly nice, as far as they go. It was proportional to the rest of him, which meant big.

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied, mockingly. You got on top of him and grabbed it, lowering yourself on to his length, moaning wantonly as you did so.

“I missed your pussy,” Chanyeol said, looking at you with lust-filled eyes.

“Yeah? You’ve been thinking about it?”

“I have,” he said, thrusting up into you. He grabbed your hips, pushing you down onto him and grinding up into you. “Have you been thinking about me?”

You stuttered a little, “N– Not at all,” you lied and Chanyeol smirked.

“Brat,” Chanyeol said, giving your ass a squeeze with both hands, making you let out a little squeal. You bent down to lock his lips in a kiss, a rough, sloppy one. He bit your bottom lip and tugged it before letting go. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You straightened up again and smiled, bouncing on his cock with your dripping wet cunt.. He eyed your jiggling breasts and let out a little growl. His cock throbbed as you continued to ride him gently, building up more intensity with each passing second. He watched his length disappearing inside you over and over again.

“God, your cock feels good, Chanyeol,” you moaned, throwing your head back. It really did. It sounded cheesy, almost comical even, but no man fit you quite like Chanyeol did. You felt waves of pleasure building up in your core.

“Fuck yeah it does. Ride me just like that,” he responded, thrusting up into you faster. You were meeting each other’s rhythm and you whimpered being hit in all the right spots.

No one knew your body like your step brother did, as fucked up as that was to say. You’d slept with a handful of other men and none of them had ever made you feel even close to what Chanyeol could. He took turns squeezing and smacking your ass. He wanted to leave marks behind, you knew that, a handprint or a bruise he could tease you about later. You quickened your pace, feeling yourself getting closer to your orgasm and Chanyeol did as well.

“Only I can get you like this, hmm? Coming apart on my cock like a dirty whore?” he said, speeding up even more. It was like he was so in tune with you that he could read your mind sometimes.

“Only you, Chanyeol,” you mewled and he looked at you with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“You’re so pretty like this… I’m gonna cum in this tight little pussy… Knock you up. Do you want that?”

“Yes, Chanyeol, fill me up. I want you to do whatever you like,” you said, knowing you were on birth control and the chances of you actually getting pregnant were minimal, but the breeding thing seemed to be a favourite of his so you always indulged it.

“And then with your belly round and your tits leaking milk, everyone will know,” he said, his voice low, “that you’re a dirty whore who seduced her step brother by acting like a slut.”

“I’m not a slut,” you protested meekly.

“Yes, you are,” he replied, punctuating it with a particularly hard thrust. “You’re the worst kind of slut. You’re a slut for your step brother’s cock.”

Shame filled you but so did arousal. You knew that the sinfulness of this was part of why it was so pleasurable, so thrilling. The fact that you had to keep this a dirty little secret between the two of you heightened every single feeling.

“I’m going to cum, Ch–,” you began but your orgasm interrupted you in the middle of your sentence, making you throw your head back and moan. This was enough for Chanyeol who followed soon after, thrusting quickly a few times before he came inside you with a groan. You felt his seed inside of you and you couldn’t deny there was a tiny part of you that wished he would get you pregnant so you could be marked by him in the most permanent way.

You lay in each other’s arms on your single bed with Chanyeol’s large body taking up most of it whilst coming down from your respective orgasms.

“It could work, you know? We could make it work,” he said. He didn’t have to elaborate, you knew exactly what he was talking about. You’d had this discussion many times before and it always ended the same.

“We can’t,” you said simply. “You know we can’t.”

“We could move somewhere far away. Another country even. It would be like starting fresh. We’d have no ties to anyone. No one would even have to know.”

You sighed. Chanyeol always got like this after sex. He’d always propose some far-fetched plan where your relationship could work and you always had to talk him down, to disappoint him. You hated doing it every time.

“I can’t abandon my mom. Or Mimi. Would you be able to leave all your friends and family?”

“For you, yeah,” he said and it felt like he’d reached into your chest and squeezed your heart in his hand. You didn’t expect him to say that, especially so nonchalantly. 

“Please,” you said, a little desperately, “Let’s just enjoy this… these stolen moments. I know it’s not ideal but it’s all we’re meant to have,” you said, trying to sound reasonable even though it was tearing you apart inside to do so. 

Chanyeol said nothing, tensing her jaw for a second before relaxing it again, “Yeah. It’s just not enough anymore.”

“Are you mad?” you asked, carefully. 

“No. But I need to tell you something.”

“Tell me what? You’re not pregnant, are you?” you joked, trying to add some levity to a situation that was feeling increasingly tense.

“I met a woman,” Chanyeol said. “She’s great. I like her a lot. She’s not you, but…” He trailed off.

He what? You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Your throat felt tight. 

“But what?” you asked, not wanting to know but also needing to know. You were frightened of what you were going to hear and you almost thought he was joking until he continued.

“The relationship is getting serious. I can see myself with her in the future. I won’t say I love her, not yet anyway, but…” He cleared his throat. “If you really mean it, if you’re really serious about not wanting to be with me… I’m gonna make things official with her. Introduce her to the family and everything.”

“Oh,” was all you said. It was all you could say. Your heart was breaking in real time and you were trying not to cry. It was wrong of you to be upset, selfish even, but you couldn’t help it. Unwittingly, you’d always thought of Chanyeol as yours, even when you were ending things with him over and over again.

“So I guess I wanted to say it’s now or never. It’s up to you,” he said solemnly.

The choice weighed heavily on you. You couldn’t imagine never having Chanyeol again. The stolen kisses and glances. Sneaking out to the car to fuck in secret. The road trips that you’d taken together, the only times you two could play the normal couple you wanted to be. It would all be gone just like that?

Not to mention the fact that you hated the idea of him with another woman, touching her, making love to her, being in love with her. Simply put, it was soul crushing.

But then you thought of your mother, who’d worked so hard to raise you despite the difficulties of being a young, single mom. And your friends. And school and work and the life that you had here. And sweet little Mimi, the sister you and Chanyeol shared who looked at you like you hung the moon. How could you leave all of them behind? It would be horrible and selfish and you’d miss them terribly. It was impossible.

“I can’t, Loey. I’m sorry. I love you. I do love you. But I can’t. You should… continue things with this girl,” you said with a tone of finality. It was truly over now, your love story, you knew that.

Chanyeol said nothing, his face stony. He sat up and pulled his clothes on quickly, getting up and walking out of your room without looking at you. Saying you were devastated would have been an understatement. You were broken.

You got up and went to your bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping inside without even waiting for it to warm up. The water hit your body and you finally broke down in tears. You knew you’d made the right decision, but right now the pain was almost unbearable. You cried and cried, sitting on the floor of the shower until you felt like you were out of tears. You were grieving the loss of the only man you ever loved and you didn’t know when you’d ever be okay again.

☆*: .｡. o💔o .｡.:*☆

[shitsndgiggs]

Hiii!!! How about reader who’s very scared of dentists and she has a dentist appointment and is super scared and nervous the whole week, maybe with Fermin? I think I remember you said you wanted too write for him but if not then perhaps Cubarsi or arda?🥰🥰🥰

FEAR OF DENTISTS - FERMÍN LÓPEZ

Fermín helping you with your fear of dentists

Fermín López x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The anticipation of having my wisdom teeth removed was almost unbearable. The thought of the procedure—the extraction, the numbness, the discomfort—filled me with a growing sense of dread.

I’d spent the week in a state of anxiety, imagining every possible scenario and worrying about how I would handle the pain and recovery.

Fermín noticed my increasing anxiety, though I tried to keep it to myself. It was a Sunday afternoon, and we were curled up on the couch together.

I had been unusually quiet, my mind racing as I stared blankly at the TV. Fermín turned to me, his eyes full of concern.

“You’ve been really on edge lately,” he said gently, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “What’s going on?”

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my composure, but the fear was overwhelming. “It’s… it’s my dentist appointment tomorrow. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m so scared.”

Fermín’s eyes softened with understanding. “I get it. I had my wisdom teeth removed a few years ago, so I know how you’re feeling.”

I looked at him, surprised. “You did?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “It was definitely not fun, but I got through it. And you will, too. Do you want me to tell you what to expect?”

I nodded, hoping his experience might help ease some of my fears.

“Well,” he began, his tone soothing and reassuring, “the process itself is usually pretty quick. They’ll numb the area, so you won’t feel anything during the extraction. You might hear some sounds, but that’s normal. Once it’s done, you’ll be in a bit of discomfort, but they’ll give you medication to help with the pain.”

His words were calming, but I still felt a flutter of anxiety. “And what about the recovery? How long did it take you to feel better?”

“It took a few days,” Fermín said, his voice gentle.

“The first day or two can be the most uncomfortable, but after that, it gets better pretty quickly. I remember eating soft foods, like mashed potatoes and yogurt, and keeping ice packs on my cheeks to help with the swelling.”

I took a deep breath, feeling a bit reassured by his description. “That doesn’t sound too bad, I guess. It helps to know that it’s something you’ve been through and survived.”

Fermín smiled warmly, squeezing my hand gently. “Absolutely. And I’ll be here with you through it all. I’ll help you with whatever you need—whether it’s picking up soft foods, changing ice packs, or just being there to distract you with bad movies.”

“Thank you. It means a lot.”

The next morning, Fermín drove me to the dentist’s office, his presence a steady comfort. He kept up a light conversation. His easy demeanor helped keep my mind off the impending procedure.

When they finally called my name, he gave me a reassuring smile and a gentle hug. “You’ve got this. Remember, it’s just a short procedure, and then we’ll be on the other side of it. I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

I nodded, feeling a bit more at ease as I walked into the room. The procedure itself was quick and uneventful, just as he had described.

When I woke up in the recovery room, I found him waiting with a concerned yet supportive smile.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” he asked softly, helping me settle into the car.

“A little groggy, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” I replied, leaning against him for support.

He helped me get settled at home, providing everything I needed—soft foods, ice packs, and the occasional funny movie to keep me entertained.

As the days went by, his care and companionship made the recovery process much easier.

[peterman-spideyparker]

Pearly White (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I had a cleaning about a week and a half ago, and I got thinking . . . What would Matt be like at the dentist? And I came up with this. Enjoy! :)

Summary: It’s a normal night until Matt pulls away from a kiss. When you find out the reason why, you ask him to go to your dental office and help him out.

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, domesticity, idiots in love, dental pain/going to the dentist (nothing graphic or terribly descriptive, just general annual/semi-annual exam descriptions, girlfriend is a dentist), allusions to sex (p in v sex, m!receiving blowjobs)

Other Characters: None

Word Count: 1,844

“Hey,” you smile as Matt walks through the door.

“Hey,” he mirrors, his smile matching yours. It doesn’t take long for him to put down his things and walk over to where you sit to give you a proper kiss. 

“I put your plate in the microwave,” you tell him. “I covered it with some foil, so it should still be warm if you’re hungry.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says with another kiss before undoing the knot in his tie and walking to the bedroom. “We weren’t sure how long we were going to be, so we ordered in. I’ll have a few bites, but there’s no promise I’ll finish it.”

“Well, I don’t want you to feel forced into eating if you’re not hungry,” you tell him as you resume your work with your appointment schedule for the next month. “I mean, I know it’s not going to go to waste. Hey, look at it this way—you have lunch for tomorrow!”

“Always the optimist,” he smiles as he leaves the bedroom in a t-shirt and sweats, moving to put his leftovers in the fridge before sitting next to you. You smile as he keens for affection, turning and placing a big kiss on his cheek. When he winces on contact, you immediately pull back. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

“Nothing,” he deflects with a little shake of his head. 

“Matty, you winced at a kiss. My kiss. Something’s up.”

“It’s really nothing. Honest.”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

He lets out a soft sigh and hangs his head, remembering your promise to one another to never keep secrets—the only acceptable secrets being good news and sweet surprises. 

“My tooth has been bothering me,” he admits. “And it didn’t start when I was Daredevil. I was just Matt.”

“When did it start?”

“Last week?”

“Matt—.”

“I didn’t say anything because I knew you’d react like this!”

“I’m reacting like this because you waited a week, Matt! You shouldn’t push something like this off!”

“I hate dentists!” he blurts, his eyes wide and his chest rising and falling quickly.

“So you hate dentists so much, you decided to date one?”

“Sweetheart, you know what I mean.”

“I get it,” you say with a long sigh, sliding your hand in his. “The dentist isn’t anyone’s favorite, and with your senses, I—.” You stop mid sentence as something occurs to you. “Matt, when was the last time you went to the dentist?”

“It’s been a while.”

“Define ‘a while’. A few years?”

“A while,” he says with a sad little ‘you’re-gonna-be-mad-but-please-don’t-hate-me’ look.

“Matt . . .”

“It just hurts so bad when I go. The nuns made sure we had our annual appointments, but after that . . .”

“So the last time you went to the dentist was when you were 18?”

“17,” he corrects. 

“Matthew! How do you still have teeth?”

“I brush and floss. Sometimes I use a rinse.”

“This isn’t funny. Matt, please,” you gently beg. “This is your health we’re talking about!”

“(Y/N)—.”

“Please let me help you with this, Matt.”

“I’m okay, (Y/N), I promise.”

“Please. I will have my best hygienist stay and we will go slow and we will be careful. I will be right there to hold your hand.”

“Sweetheart—.”

“I will even do it. Cleaning and all,” you offer. “I just . . . I care about you so much, Matt. You shouldn’t avoid doing something for your health because you’re afraid of it. I love you, and that includes the things that come out of you.” You dip your head slightly as you give his hands a squeeze. “I don’t want to see you in pain. And if this turns into something bigger, I don’t want you to be in any more pain that you already are.”

“I’ll do it,” he whispers. “For you, I’d do it.”

You tilt your head up and absorb the tenderness and sincerity all over his face. You stretch and bring your lips to his forehead, pressing a long kiss to the skin.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more.”

You kiss his forehead once more, running your fingers through his soft locks. “Will you let me look at it tomorrow night? I’d ask to go to my office now, but I don’t want to push my luck.”

He chuckles softly. “Okay. Tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” you tell him once more. “Can I at least get you some ice for it?”

“It only hurts when something touches it, or I chew. I’m okay.”

“Please?”

“You’re gonna keep asking until I say yes, aren’t you, sweet girl?”

“You know me too well.”

“Okay, then,” he says gently, brushing his nose against mine. “You can get me some ice.”

“Alright, Matty,” you tell him as you wrap a paper bib around his neck. “If I start to hurt you at all or it’s uncomfortable or you need a break, just make a noise and I’ll stop, okay? Even if I gently poke you and you don’t like it, you make a noise, and we finish the exam.”

“Okay,” he nods. To the untrained ear, nothing sounds off. But you know Matt better—he’s nervous, scared even. 

“Hey,” you whisper. “I love you more than anything. I’m proud of you for doing this.”

“I love you, angel.”

With a kiss to his forehead, you lean him back in the chair and adjust the light above him. 

“Open your mouth and tilt toward me, Matty,” you say as you get your tools. He does as you ask and you gently start the exam, using your mouth mirror and curette to gently start looking at his teeth and cleaning them of plaque. You go very slow, taking your time on each tooth and doing gentle and repeated motions to get rid of all the build up.

“You doing okay?” you ask as you take your tools out of his mouth, giving him a bit of a reprieve.

“So far so good,” he says. “What’s the prognosis, doc?”

“Too soon to tell. You’ve got good teeth for not having braces, though. But I didn’t need to be in your mouth to tell you you have pretty teeth.”

“Isn’t it not kosher to flirt with your patients?”

“Not flirting to say someone has pretty teeth,” you smile, kissing the tip of his nose. “Besides, different rules apply when the patient is my boyfriend. Now, c’mon, open back up.”

Matt murmurs an “okay” before doing as you ask and lets you continue. He does really well with a mix of letting you work and short breaks, but when you hit a particularly tough spot of tartar and he winces as you scrape it off, you immediately withdraw and put your tools on the tray to your right.

“Okay, we’re done,” you say, moving to take off your gloves and clean up, hating yourself that you hurt Matt after he let you do something he didn’t want to in the first place.

“No, keep going,” he says.

“No,” you insist. “I promised you that at the first sign on pain and discomfort I’d stop. I hurt you—I’m stopping.”

“Hey,” he says softly, taking your hands in his. “I’m okay. I promise. I want you to finish up the exam.”

“But I hurt you,” you repeat softly. “I told you I didn’t want to see you in pain, and then I caused you pain.”

“You’re too sweet for your own good, angel. Please, finish.”

“Well, next is the polishing tool. The brush is loud. I have some earplugs if you want them to at least dull it.”

“You think of everything, sweetheart.”

Fishing out the little foam cones, you hand them to Matt and let him situate them in his ear canal before he sits back down and lets you finish it all up without a single cringe. Once you finish, you lean over and press a kiss to his lips, making him giggle and hold you in place for more embraces before sliding out the earplugs, expertly tossing them into the trash can on the opposing wall.

“You have a bruised tooth,” you say, taking your gloves off as you gently sit him up. 

“You can bruise a tooth?” he questions. 

“Mmhm. Whatever you bit down on, you bit hard and it bruised. If you had a cavity, it would’ve been a cracked tooth. The good new is that it should be feeling better by next week. But other than that, your teeth are beautiful and strong and healthy. Just use the fluoride rinse I use to help keep everything strong.”

Once the chair stops moving, you slide one of your hands in his, the other brushing hair off of his forehead. “How does your mouth feel?”

“It hurts. But nowhere near as bad as it would when I was a kid,” he says, leaning into your touch. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Forever and always,” I smile softly. “Would you let me do this again? Cleaning and exam, once a year?”

“I’d only say yes to you. I love you.”

“I love you more, Matty.”

“I do have a question, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t get mad?”

“Now I’m a bit worried, I’m not gonna lie.”

“Is this . . . Does your jaw get this sore when we, uh, you—?” His mouth doesn’t want to finish the sentence, but the look on his face and how he holds his hands tell you everything you need to know. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of your chest before you kiss his temple. 

“Oh, Matt,” you hum, feeling how hot your cheeks burn at his question. “Um, no, my mouth doesn’t hurt like that when I suck on you.“

“Good,” he smiles softly. “The only spot I want you to be sore is between you legs after I’m finished with you.”

“Then mission repeatedly accomplished.”

Now it’s his turn to chuckle, resting his hand on your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. “Let’s go home, sweetheart. You’ve been at this office long enough today, no thanks to me. We can pick up some dinner.”

“That sounds nice. But we’re cooking tonight. Until that tooth feels better, it’s strict doctor’s orders.”

“Oh?” he smirks.

“Mmhm. The last thing I need is you getting chicken stuck between your teeth, especially against the bad tooth.”

“So what do you suggest we make, then?”

You purse your lips to the side and think. “Homemade pasta? Soft, tasty, and you have all the ingredients in your apartment.”

“I’m actually out of eggs.”

“I don’t know how you survive, Matty,” you chuckle.

“Takeout, food clients give as payment, and the occasional meal from Mrs. Nelson,” he smiles. “Oh, and my amazing girlfriend is the most important part in ensuring my survival.”

“The we’ll go pick up some eggs, grab some things for a sauce, and some other things for the rest of the week that will be good on your tooth.”

“Sounds good, angel. Let’s go.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger​ @steampowerednightvaler​ @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles​ @toozmanykids​ @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop​ @itwasthereaminuteago​ @peter1ismybrother@hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione​ @catnip987​

[baileypie-writes]

Would yyou pllleeeeeaaaseee do velvet x male reader?? (any scenario) thx

A/N ~ Sure! Hope you like the scenario I picked out!

~How Dare You Say That!~

Velvet x Male!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Reader: Male

Relationship: Romantic

Synopsis: An interviewer says something about you that makes Velvet very upset.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, Velvet getting really mad, crying(Velvet), cringe

Sitting in the back of the studio, you couldn’t help but smile. Your girlfriend, Velvet, and her brother were having an interview. The camera crew were busily scrambling behind the scenes, but your attention was only on her.

She looked stunning. Her fashion sense was always the best, way better than yours, and the outfit she picked out today made her look like a star. Not that she didn’t always look like one.

“So where did your guys’s talent come from? Is it genetics? Are your parents good at singing too?” Asked the interviewer.

“Oh, goodness no!” Veneer answered. “Our parents were dentists!” The crowd erupted in laughter, making Veneer look proud of himself.

The interviewer laughed as well. “Well, I’m sure they’re proud of you!” Velvet and Veneer looked at each other, smiling.

“And I’m also sure that your boyfriend is proud of you too!” He said, looking at Velvet. She smiled, looking at you. You nodded, giving her a thumbs up, confirming the interviewer’s statement.

“He is.” Said Velvet, proudly.

The interviewer continued. “Speaking of your boyfriend, how long have you two been together?”

“A few months.” Velvet seemed happy to be talking about you. She looked back at you, giving you a big smile.

“Really? Well congratulations to him. Must be nice to be dating a famous pop-star!” Velvet’s smile dropped a bit. So did yours. Was that comment really necessary? She took a quick glance at you, letting you know that it also made her uncomfortable.

“He seems to really love you!” He continued. Velvet nodded. “It’s great, considering so many people date stars for the money and fame. Honestly, you can barely tell which relationships are real these days! Glad to see that this guy’s different. At least I hope so! Only time will tell, am I right?” He winked, and the crowd laughed. But neither you nor Velvet thought it was funny.

You were very uncomfortable at this point. Many people were looking at you, and one guy even patted your back in a joking manner. Velvet’s expression changed from awkward, to just plain mad.

“What are you implying?” She asked, glaring directly at the man. “Are you saying that my boyfriend could only want me because I’m famous?” The crowd went silent. The interviewer opened his mouth to speak, but Velvet cut him off. “How dare you say that! He loved me before anyone knew who I was! He could never be that shallow!” She stood up, grabbing her brother’s hand. “Come on, Veneer, we’re done here!”

The crowd was filled with gasps and murmurs as they walked off stage. You got up from your seat, and followed the camera crew, who were trying to get to Velvet and Veneer.

~~~~

You eventually got to the dressing room. The door was being guarded by two big men, blocking it from the various camera crew people, as well as the interviewer.

He was giving Velvet a half-assed apology. He was also calling her sensitive, saying that it was “just a joke”. You walked up to the man, placing a hand on his shoulder to move him out of the way. You scowled at him, causing him to back away. You looked at the two guards.

“Let me in.” You demanded. They stepped aside, obviously knowing who you were. You opened the door, and your heart sank.

Your girlfriend was sitting at the vanity, Veneer comforting her. She was shaking, and quiet sobs could be heard. You felt awful for her.

“Hey Velvet.” You said in a calm, comforting tone. She jolted up, and spun around. Tears were running down her face, as well as her mascara. It was honestly shocking for you to see her like this. Sure, you’ve seen her said before, but this is the first time you’ve seen her cry.

You walked over to her, and gave her the biggest hug you possibly could. “I’m so sorry sweetie.”

“You’re sorry?! It’s that stupid man’s fault! What was he even thinking, saying something like that?! And people had the audacity to laugh! How is implying that you’re a greedy liar funny?” You were sure that the people on the other side of the door could hear her. You specifically hoped that the interviewer did. You rubbed her back, letting her vent.

“I mean, is that what people really think of you?” She said. You pulled away from the hug to look at her face. Her mascara was even more runny than before.

“Velvet, I don’t care what people think of me. They can think whatever they want, but that doesn’t make it true. I love you, famous or not. And I didn’t get to say this verbally before, but I am very proud of you.” Velvet was still crying after you spoke, but now, they were happy tears. She was so happy finally hearing someone say they were proud of her. You hugged again, not caring one bit about the group of people outside.

(Bonus Content)

Veneer had just finished writing a lengthy post shaming the interviewer. Seconds after it was posted, the likes were already rolling in.

People were giving tons of support to you and Velvet, and absolutely none for the that shitty man.

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~~baileypie-writes