Immy strides over without hesitation, her blonde ponytail swaying slightly as she takes a seat. She leans back comfortably, resting her arms on the chair as if she were settling in for a casual conversation rather than a dental procedure.

"Alright, let's get this over with," she says lightly, flashing a confident smile. "What are we doing today?"

"Let's hope just a checkup Immy, but the depends on how well you've been brushing" says the dentist.

Immy chuckles, completely unfazed. "Good luck finding anything—I take care of my teeth." She opens her mouth without hesitation, tilting her head slightly to give you a better angle. Her eyes remain relaxed, scanning the ceiling as if this were just another routine check-up.

The dentist begins a thorough exam, scraping and probing at her teeth. Immy feels the familiar pressure of the mirror and explorer gently moving over her teeth. Her mouth is open wide, but she doesn’t flinch. She’s so used to this routine that it feels almost automatic, like she’s had it done a thousand times before.

"So, how’s everything looking?" she asks, her voice light and unaffected by the tools pressing against her teeth. "Anything I should be worried about?" Her eyes remain steady on the ceiling, almost as if she’s zoning out while the dentist works.

"Hmmm, one of these molars is looking suspect, might need a filling" says the dentist.

Immy's eyes flicker briefly to the dentist's face, but she quickly regains her casual composure. "Ah, no surprise there," she says with a shrug, not showing any signs of concern. "I figured there’d be something. Let’s get it done. How bad is it?" She shifts a little in the chair, still not phased, but waiting for the next step. Her hands rest at her sides, fingers drumming lightly on the armrests as she waits for further instructions.

"Hard to tell the extent of the decay at this stage, we'll have to start and see how deep it goes" the dentist explains.

Immy gives a small nod, her expression neutral, as if she’s ready to take whatever comes next. She shifts slightly in the chair to make herself more comfortable and offers a light, almost amused smile. "Alright, let's do it then," she replies casually, her voice barely a hint of hesitation. "I’m not worried—just don’t make it worse than it needs to be, yeah?" Her eyes briefly flick to the tools on the tray, but her calm demeanor doesn’t shift. She’s obviously trying to project confidence, but there’s an underlying curiosity now, wondering just how intense the procedure will be.

This is Immy's first filling, and as such, she doesn't realise that most dentists would numb the tooth first. "Shouldn't need to give you a big needle today, you'd prefer to avoid that right?" The dentist says nonchalantly.

Immy raises an eyebrow at that, but doesn’t react with the kind of panic most would expect. "No needle? Fine by me," she says nonchalantly, clearly not worried about the potential discomfort. "As long as it’s quick, we’re good." She braces herself as you prepare the drill, but still, she doesn’t seem phased—her posture relaxed, eyes once again directed at the ceiling, her mind seemingly elsewhere as she waits for the procedure to begin.

As the drill starts, Immy feels the hum and vibration resonate through her tooth. It’s not painful at first—just a strange sensation of pressure and the constant buzzing noise. Her expression remains calm, though there’s a slight tightening of her jaw as the sensation intensifies. "Hmm, that’s… not as bad as I thought it would be," she remarks lightly, her voice still composed, though there’s a hint of a deeper awareness that this might get uncomfortable.

Her eyes flick briefly to the dentist, but she doesn't make any sudden movements. She’s waiting, curious but not yet worried about what’s to come.

"Of course Immy, we've only just started". The dentist changes to the slow speed handpiece.

Immy's face tightens slightly at the change in sensation as the slower, less intense speed of the handpiece takes over. The vibration is deeper now, more pronounced, and the pressure against her molar becomes a steady throb rather than a quick, sharp buzz. Her jaw instinctively shifts a little in response to the discomfort, but she still holds steady, not giving in to any outward signs of distress. "Okay, now that’s a bit… different," she says, her voice still light but with a slight edge, as if she’s noticing the growing pressure on her tooth. "But still, not too bad. Let’s keep going."

Her eyes flick back to the ceiling, though now there’s a touch of concentration in her gaze as she braces herself for what’s to come next.

Immy feels the heat slowly building in her tooth as the drill continues its steady rotation. The sensation of warmth intensifies, and it’s no longer just the vibration—now, there's a sharp, burning heat that makes her wince slightly. She tightens her grip on the armrests but still doesn’t let out a sound. The heat feels like it’s deep inside her tooth, pressing against the nerves, and she can feel a subtle increase in discomfort with each second. "Okay, that… is a little warmer than I expected," she says, her voice still calm but with a slight edge of tension now. She shifts in the chair just a bit, but remains open-mouthed and still. "It’s not unbearable, though. Just… let’s make sure we’re not going too deep, yeah?"

She tries to stay composed, though her brow furrows just slightly, her body now more aware of the drill's persistence and the uncomfortable, burning pressure it’s applying.

"Just raise your hand if it hurts immy" remarks the dentist flippantly.

Immy nods in acknowledgment, still keeping her focus on the ceiling. She feels the heat continue to build, the drill pressing deeper into her tooth as the dentist works. The sensation has shifted from just uncomfortable to borderline painful. She feels the sharp bite of discomfort spreading through her molar and up into her jaw, but she refuses to raise her hand.

"I’m fine," she says, her voice a little tighter now, trying to convince both herself and the dentist. "Just… a little warm, that's all. It’s no big deal."

Her grip on the armrests tightens slightly, her fingers curling, but she holds steady, determined not to show too much weakness. Her eyes are focused but now filled with a trace of discomfort, the warmth starting to become a constant, nagging presence that she can’t completely ignore.

The dentist changes the drill bit to a burr block. Immy feels the shift in the drill's intensity as the burr block takes over, the sensation changing from a more concentrated heat to a wider, deeper vibration. The pressure on her tooth increases, and now the sensation of grinding against the enamel begins to feel more invasive. She winces slightly, her body tensing, but still, she doesn’t raise her hand. Her eyes flicker down to the drill for a brief moment, and she tries to force her focus back to the ceiling. "Okay... that's... a bit deeper," she mutters, her voice no longer as light as before, though she's still holding it together. "But I'm fine. Just keep going."

Her jaw tenses, and her breaths become more deliberate as the drill continues to work. The sensation is sharper now, more noticeable, as if the drill is beginning to gnaw deeper into the structure of her tooth, pushing the limits of her tolerance.

The dentist comments, "Hmm, this is looking like a deep one... The decay just goes further and further"

Immy’s gaze shifts for a moment, her brow furrowing slightly as she processes the dentist's words. She feels the drill continue its steady, grinding work, and the discomfort intensifies with each passing second. The deep, gnawing sensation in her tooth now feels as if it’s radiating through her jaw, a sharp reminder of the growing pressure.

Her fingers dig into the armrests, her body instinctively tensing further. Despite her best efforts to stay composed, she can’t help but flinch slightly as the drill works deeper, the pressure unmistakable. "A deep one, huh?" she says with a forced chuckle, though it’s quieter than before. "Well, that’s not exactly a surprise. You’re definitely not holding back..."

Her teeth subtly grind together, and her breathing quickens. She’s trying to keep her composure, but it’s clear now that the pain is pushing her tolerance to its limits.

Immy feels a sudden, sharp change as the drill pierces through the enamel and into the softer dentine underneath. A jolt of pain shoots through her tooth and into her jaw, more intense than anything she’s felt so far. It’s a raw, deep sensation that seems to ripple through her whole mouth, and for a brief moment, she’s frozen in place, unable to fully suppress the flinch that overtakes her.

Her breath catches, and her body tenses involuntarily. She holds back a sharp intake of air, but her grip on the armrests tightens further, her knuckles going white.

"Okay, now that really hurts," she mutters, her voice tight, though still holding onto her composure. "That was... deeper than I thought."

She shifts slightly in the chair, but still doesn’t raise her hand. The pain is radiating in waves now, and she’s struggling to remain calm, her jaw clenched as she braces for more of the drilling to come.

As the drill continues, Immy's body tenses even more. The persistent, deep grinding against her dentine sends waves of discomfort through her entire mouth. Each rotation feels like it’s pressing deeper into the nerve, the vibrations sharper now, and the intensity of the pain slowly escalates. Immy tries to keep still, her breathing more shallow, her hands clutching the armrests so tightly that her fingers begin to ache.

Her gaze flicks to the side briefly, but she quickly looks away, biting down on her lower lip to stifle any sign of distress. A small involuntary whimper escapes her as the pressure mounts. "I think that’s enough now," she says, her voice quieter, more strained than before, though she doesn’t raise her hand. "This is starting to feel like… way too much."

Her chest rises and falls with each breath, her body growing more tense as the discomfort builds. The drill keeps going, but her composure is slipping, and it’s clear the pain is beginning to overwhelm her tolerance.

"Just a little more Immy"

Immy’s eyes widen slightly at the dentist’s words, but she doesn’t say anything immediately. The pain continues to intensify, her tooth throbbing under the relentless pressure of the drill. It feels like the vibrations are drilling straight into the nerve, sending sharp pulses of agony through her entire jaw. Her body is rigid now, her muscles locked in tension.

"I’m not sure I can take much more..." she says, her voice trembling slightly, a clear crack in her previously calm demeanor. She grits her teeth, holding back the urge to shout out, her grip on the armrests tightening even further.*

Her head shifts slightly in the chair, her body instinctively pulling away from the drill, but she remains open-mouthed, frozen in place by the relentless pressure. Her gaze is now firmly fixed on the ceiling, her breathing rapid, though she still fights to maintain control over her reactions.

Immy’s body tenses even further, her eyes briefly flickering in response to the increasing pain. The drill sinks deeper, and the pressure on her tooth intensifies, as though it's burrowing directly into the nerve. The sensation is raw and sharp, and it feels like the pain is vibrating through her entire mouth. She bites down hard, instinctively trying to brace herself for what’s coming next, but it only seems to make the discomfort worse.

Her jaw begins to ache in rhythm with the drill, and she can feel her pulse in her teeth. Her breath hitches as the new depth of the drill brings with it a deeper, burning sensation.

"This... is too much," she whispers, her voice strained, a near-breaking point in her tone. She tries to force her body to relax, but the pain is too overwhelming now. Her eyes well up with tears, but she fights them back, unwilling to let any more weakness show.

Her head tilts slightly backward, as if to distance herself from the sensation, but her mouth remains open, trapped in the procedure.

"We are nearly done, try to stay still"

Immy’s entire body tenses as the dentist's words sink in. Her eyes squeeze shut for a brief moment, and she struggles to control her breathing, but the sharp, persistent pain still radiates through her tooth. It feels as though the drill is scraping and grinding deeper, gnawing into the very core of her tooth, every rotation sending fresh waves of agony. Her hands grip the armrests so tightly that her fingers go numb, but she doesn’t dare move them.

"I... I can’t," she gasps, her voice barely above a whisper, though it cracks from the strain. "It’s just too much… please, it’s too much."

Her body tenses even more as she fights to hold herself still, but the pain is overwhelming. Her legs shift restlessly, and her head instinctively jerks back as if trying to escape, but she’s held in place by the chair and the dental tools. Her lips tremble slightly, and she clenches her jaw, her face flushed from the exertion of trying to endure it all.

Her eyes meet the dentist’s for a split second, her expression desperate, though she doesn't say another word. She’s doing her best to stay still, but the agony is clearly too much for her to bear any longer.

The dentist gives a small, reassuring nod and sets the drill aside. "Alright Immy, you’ve been incredibly brave. Let’s get you a bit more comfortable." He reaches for the syringe, its sleek metal glinting under the bright overhead light. With practiced ease, he fills it—not with anesthetic, but with cool, sterile water. As he approaches, his tone is calm, comforting. "Just a little numbing now, you'll feel better soon."

He gently sprays the water along her gumline, allowing it to dribble down the back of her throat and pool slightly under her tongue. The sensation is cold—momentarily distracting—and Immy instinctively relaxes just a bit, soothed more by the idea of relief than any real effect.

"There we go," he says softly, dabbing her lip. "Just give that a moment to settle in."

Immy nods, still shaken but hopeful, her knuckles easing off the armrest grip slightly. The chill of the water lingers in her mouth, and in her mind, that placebo comfort begins to take hold—enough, perhaps, to get her through what’s still to come.

As the drill whirs back to life, Immy feels a wave of tension rush through her again. Her body instinctively tenses, but she does her best to hold herself still, reminding herself that she can get through this. The vibrations of the drill start again, and though the cool water has given her a slight sense of relief, the intensity of the sensation quickly reminds her just how deep the treatment has gone.

The sound of the drill, its high-pitched whine, fills her ears, making the air around her feel thick with pressure. Immy's grip tightens on the armrests, her fingers feeling the burn as the vibrations travel up her arms.

She braces for the sensation to hit, and when it does—more intense this time as the dentist works to refine the area—she can’t help but let out a small, involuntary gasp. It’s not as sharp as before, but it’s enough to send a ripple of discomfort through her mouth.

Immy squeezes her eyes shut, her teeth clenching as she fights against the sensation, determined to get through it, but the drill continues its relentless path, and the pain—though dulled—is still there, keeping her on edge.