Tumgik
#they gagged me. i can admit it. credit where its due. a win is a win. broken clock twice a day etc.
distraughtlesbian · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
i (DESERVEDLY‼️) heckle pb for a lot of their narrative choices but even all these years later this plot twist………masters in cuntology double major in slaysian studies and slutistical analysis minor in motherlogical studies graduated with honours from the university of servington. sorry. they chewed. i love the way it feels to be a hater but they can have their flowers just this 1 time
Tumblr media
16 notes · View notes
bakubub · 3 years
Text
In which racer!kuroo is your roommate, and seems to only like it when you treat his wounds... (word count: 1.9k)
Ngl quite proud of this one!!
Warnings: 18+, a whole lot of swearing, a whole lot of blood, innuendos and implied nsfw, reader almost vomits (NOT from pregnancy chill, I know we're all scarred but its going to be just fine) and if you're squeamish perhaps skip the scene where reader stitches his wound?
Also bit of a disclaimer: I am in NO WAY a med student and literally all of my knowledge is from movies and other fics... so if you acc know what to do in this situation this may be a torturous for you :D
Tumblr media
All due credits go to @aikk00​ for this AMAZING fanart!!!!
I watch as my roommate enters the penthouse, once again scratched up and bleeding, covered in so much blood there is no possible way that it was all his- if it was he would not be standing.
I launch myself off the couch- where I was sitting for the past hour nervously waiting for his return- and slip my arm under his, supporting him as we inched towards the bathroom.
"I can do this by myself you know," he grumbles, his grimace revealing just how much pain he was actually in.
"Mhm, I'm sure you can. Just like you boiled that poor egg by yourself last week, hmm?" I say sarcastically, trying to keep my mind calm and clear, because oh my god it looks really bad this time...
"Oi, its not my fault it fuckin' exploded," he mutters, voice laden with pain.
"You put it in the microwave because 'the shitty water wasn't doing its job.' Of course it would explode," I say, gently seating him on the closed toilet seat and taking out my supplies that I unfortunately have become rather accustomed to using. He's made it a habit to get himself injured.
"Where's the injury?" I ask, setting down my half-empty bottle of antiseptic and box of bandages. He peels off his shirt, cringing at the pain it brought him as the fabric was stuck to the gash that went from his left pectoral down to the middle of his chest.
"Pissed off a bidder after winning a race, fucker took out a knife once he realised he couldn't beat me up," he huffs out, arrogance still lacing his tone even with sweat dripping down his brow as he leans the back of his head onto the tile wall behind him. His Adam's apple bobs down his bloodstained neck as he speaks, and I quickly look away, focusing on the injury at hand.
Not his blood soaked, but nevertheless well defined pectoral muscles, nor the abs that my hands occasionally brush up against and know how hard they really are, and definitely not the trail of black hairs that lead down, down, down...
"What's wrong, the view too hot to focus on the work at hand?" He asks suggestively, raising his pierced brow, even in this state.
I'm quick to reply, having gotten used to his flirtatious remarks from the second I moved into his penthouse, "nope can't even see the view from that massive head of yours. Not to mention your permanent bed head."
He huffs out a laugh, then proceeds to flinch from the pain it must have caused.
"Stop moving, idiot. You're going to exacerbate the cut!" I say, quickly grabbing a damp towel and beginning to clean up his abdomen, whilst simultaneously pressing another rag to his wound to stop the bleeding.
“At least you admit that there is a hot view,” he says in his low voice, gazing at me from his position.
I simply roll my eyes.
No falling in love. That was the deal we had made on the day he offered me a place to stay in exchange for my services as a maid and apparently, a nurse. I cook, clean and basically keep the house running while this moron goes out and acts like the idiot he is. In my defense, dorms are expensive as hell, and his penthouse is nearby. Plus, I don't have to pay rent. It's a win-win situation.
But the feelings stirring up inside my heart might just ruin the dynamic we have going on and simultaneously take out a whole lot of cash out of my pocket.
At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
Once his skin isn't completely saturated in blood, and the wound has (thankfully) stopped bleeding, I add some antiseptic onto a make-up pad and begin to dab at his wound, earning winces and slight grunts from the massive man.
"The cut looks deep, Kuroo. You need to go to the hospital," I say, worry lacing my tone as my eyebrows crease and earn yet another huffing laugh.
"Do you want me to rot in prison for the rest of my life?"
I roll my eyes at his response, deliberately dabbing just a little harder which earns me a yelp and an attempted glare in my direction.
"First off, illegal street racing won't send you to prison for your entire life, just for like, half a year. Second, this wound needs stitches, and believe it or not, I'm not a fucking licensed medic. In fact, the only experience I have is with you!" I say, immediately regretting my choice of words as I wait for his remark.
"That's what she said," He says, chuckling at his own innuendo.
I sigh in frustration, pouring more antiseptic to make sure there was no chance of infection from whatever grimy ass knife stabbed him, and beginning to gently scrub the wound with a soft towel, so as to make sure there was no debris left in there.
"You're gonna have ta do it," he mutters, his hazel eyes boring into mine.
"I- I can't Kuroo, you can't possibly think-"
"Fine. I'll do it. Go get me a needle and thread," he states, struggling but nevertheless, sitting upright on the red stained toilet.
I stare at Kuroo in disbelief as he utters these words. Was he dumber than I thought? Does he have some sort of head injury too?
I examine his face and all I come up with is unnerving determination. I exhale out of my nose sharply, "fine, dammit. I'll sew your fucking wound shut."
I am extremely handy with a sewing needle and thread, used to really be into embroidery back when I had the time so...it should be fine.
He just shrugs, leaning his head back against the tiles and closing his eyes.
"Fucking asshole. Can't believe I'm saving your damn life," I mutter, leaving the bathroom to dig through my wardrobe for my sewing box and taking out a gold silk thread that I was saving for a special project.
Well, I guess that will never happen.
"Hey, I found some silk thread. It's literally known for its strength and durability in high temperatures, so it should work like a charm!" I say, walking back into the blood stained bathroom and trying to psych myself up.
He grunts in response. I sigh as I begin with mopping up the excess blood and sanitising the needle and thread before chucking on gloves.
I wipe the antiseptic over the wound once more, and examine it carefully.
Well, if his condition worsens, I can always knock him out and call an ambulance...
I decide, screw it, and thread the needle, pretending it was just another embroidery project.
It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, I chant as I puncture his skin with the thin needle.
Kuroo gasps in pain, and I place a hand on his knee, telling him to suck it up and deal with it, half talking to him but also to myself.
To my surprise, he listens, stretching his head back once more and gritting his teeth.
"Don't do that, here put this in-between your teeth," I say, grabbing yet another towel and shoving it into his mouth.
He obeys as I continue to stitch. I feel my gag reflex kicking in as I think about how stitching skin feels as though I am stitching leather, it feels hard and tough while pushing the thin needle through.
Must hurt like a bitch.
Once I've completed my neat stitches down the wound, without vomiting, I tie it off as I would with any embroidery, and clean the area free of any remaining blood. After rubbing some antibacterial ointment over the gold stitches, I stick on a particularly large bandage over the wound and start tidying up.
"Thank you," Kuroo mutters, still seated on the toilet seat and practically panting for breath.
"Ah, the criminal knows his damn manners!! Now get up and get in the damn shower. You ruined my pristine bathroom!" I complain, putting the last of the materials away before walking to the door.
"Wait, I- I can't get up." I turn around and look at him incredulously as he utters his next few words, "will you... shower me?"
My eyes just about pop out of their sockets at his request. "Are you insane?! I'm not your mother, nor your wife! Call your pudding haired friend and tell him to come shower you!"
He shakes his head, a rare pleading look taking the place of his usual arrogant smirk, "Kenma's too lazy to shower himself, Y/n, please!"
I contemplated it for a moment. Sure, I've seen him naked before, accidentally of course, and so what if I have to scrub him clean. God knows he can't do it himself with that damn injury.
Fuck this shit.
"Fine, get up right now." I bark at him, leaving to change out of my blood soaked pjs into a pair of shorts and a tank.
"...I just said I can't."
---
"Ow, y/n, you're scrubbing too hard!" He complains, his exfoliating glove around my hand as I rub his toned back clean of any dead skin-cells and blood remains.
"But look how much stuff is coming off!" I say gleefully, enjoying this a little too much.
Kuroo, seated on the built-in bench in the open shower with his red boxers on, looks back to see the satisfaction dripping from my features.
"Are you secretly a sadist?" he whispers. In response, I begin to rinse off his raw back with hot water, causing him to screech like a cat.
"It burns, it burns-”
“Shut the fuck up, moron! It's 4 in the morning, you’re going to annoy our neighbours. I tried very hard to get in their good graces, and Mrs. Suzuki still doesn’t like me! She definitely thinks I’m some kind of hooker…” Kuroo laughs at this, and I can’t help but watch as his whole face brightens up from his usual emotionless expression. I find myself smiling in response.
I grab his expensive shampoo and pour some into my hands, beginning to massage it into his scalp. With wet hair, his raven strands are for once flat on his head and reach down to his defined jawline. Kuroo groans under my touch, leaning into my fingers. I snatch my hands back and pour hot water over his head.
"ARGH! Y/N!" He screams, hastily getting up and wetting me in the process.
"Ah- what are you-" I don't get to finish my question as he grabs my arm and yanks me next to him under the hot water, soaking my clothes and my hair.
"You asshole!" I screech as I reach up to pull his hair in defiance, but he only grabs my arm and hooks it around his neck, leaning down to look directly into my eyes.
Our noses brushing against one another, he mutters, "You look pretty with your hair wet and your shirt see through."
It takes me a moment to get past the compliment and to hear the perverted comment that he just uttered.
He sees my look of confusion and laughs, bends over, clutches his stomach and laughs, before bellowing in pain because of his injury.
Smiling smugly down at him as he grimaces, I force him to sit back down and continue massaging the shampoo into his hair, warning him that if he so much as moaned I would leave him in here, dripping wet and in pain.
"That's what he said," is his reply.
I smack his head in response.
Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3
149 notes · View notes