#I mean... *looks at his kit* lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jnnul · 7 months ago

Text

falling in love at first sight (x3)

a/n: so i woke up in cold sweat and i had to write this. there's like 30k i could've written about this but tbh, i needed to get this out lol. also taesan has been living in my head rent free so this is his eviction notice. quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 6.3k

tags: college au!, basketballplayer!taesan x nurse!y/n, honestly it's just a fluff piece, idiots in love, dongmin is DOWN BAD and falls in love with the same girl 3 times, uhh y/n is a feisty nurse warnings: taesan is called dongmin, uhh alcohol + memory loss involved with getting shitfaced lol

HAN DONGMIN DIDN'T REALLY BELIEVE IN SUPERSTITIONS. to him, things like 'knocking on wood' or 'not opening an umbrella inside' were just old wives' tales that didn't have much substance to them.

but after dongmin had shattered his bedroom mirror this morning (he'd accidentally launched his alarm clock across the room after sleeping too late last night), nearly every single thing in his life had gone wrong.

he'd put expired milk in his cereal because kim donghyun (his roommate) hadn't switched out the milk like he'd promised to the day before. then he went to take a shower, only to be burned by scalding hot water since the landlord refused to change the heating system, even though they'd been suffering through the sticky heat of august for fifteen days already. as if all of that wasn't enough, he'd accidentally torn his favorite hoodie trying to clean up the fragments that'd fallen on the floor. and when he was trying to salvage his hoodie, he scraped his forearm against the fragments, meaning he had a nasty gash along the long side of it.

which meant he'd have to go to the hospital to take care of this stupid bloody mess instead of going to class.

that was how han dongmin found himself sitting in the waiting room of the urgent care center of the hospital, a shoddy rag wrapped around his forearm, his essentials hoodie covered in blood, expired milk, and mirror dust.

needless to say, dongmin had gotten more than a few strange looks from the other people in the waiting room in the last four minutes he'd been there.

"han dongmin!" the receptionist calls out, and dongmin launches himself out of his chair, impatient to get this over with as soon as possible.

something about hospitals just gave dongmin the heebie jeebies. the fluorescent lighting, the smell of rubbing alcohol, the tangible feeling of sickness that wafted through the air.

ugh. dongmin hated hospitals. in fact, he was so sure that he would never even step foot in a hospital after this. if he needed to wrap himself in bubble wrap to do so, then so be it because he hated hospitals and he would never come ba -

dongmin stops dead in his tracks, right next to the recovery bed that the receptionist had led him to. standing in front of him was the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen in his life.

you were smiling at something the patient in front of you was saying, leaning over to bandage the patient's scrape with a little bandaid that had cartoon ryans all over it.

fuck that.

dongmin was ready to break his leg if it meant that he got to stay in the hospital and stare at your beautiful face all day. before he could find something big and heavy to knock his leg into, however, you make your way over to dongmin, clipboard and first aid kit in hand.

"hello," you say with a soft smile. "my name is y/n l/n and i'll be taking care of you today. is there anything i can help you with?"

"will you go out with me?" the words escape dongmin's mouth before he can even process what he's saying and you immediately lean backwards, a disproving wrinkle between your eyebrows.

"excuse me?" you say, and it's clear that dongmin's not gonna be in your good graces if he hits on you. he really hoped you were like this with everyone and not that you just found him super unattractive or anything (donghyun swore up and down that dongmin was not ugly - especially now that he'd dyed his hair! but donghyun also never had to chase after a girl in his life so...). or worse, if you already had a boyfriend.

but before he can ruminate about your affronted stance too deeply, dongmin rushes to fix his mistake. "i mean, hospitals really freak me out. the ethanol smell and the lighting and everything kinda gets in my head, you know what i mean? do you think you could just slap some gauze on outside?"

the tension in your shoulders immediately relaxes and you take a step forward once more, setting the first aid kit down next to dongmin.

"oh yeah, that makes sense," you say, sounding relieved. "unfortunately, i can only provide care while inside the hospital to make sure that the instruments and gauze are sterile to prevent any contamination. i promise i'll be as quick as possible so i can get you out of here!" you explain, a slight pout tugging your lips down in the most adorable way as you seem genuinely sorry for dongmin.

it was official: han dongmin was in love.

"no, don't worry. take your time. i mean, the cut is pretty bad and i don't wanna leave any mirror guts in it," dongmin says. as quick as possible, my ass, he thinks to himself. i gotta find a way to make this last for as long as i can.

"of course!" you assure, before looking down at the clipboard. "so i assume you cut yourself on a broken mirror? does it hurt when you apply pressure?"

what was the answer that would keep you here longer?

"yes?"

"are you asking me or telling me?"

"telling?"

"very convincing. i'm gonna need to apply pressure and confirm for myself then, if that's alright with you?" you look at him in a way that seems to be somewhat apprehensive and dongmin has never wanted to reverse time more than in this very instant.

until he doesn't because your hands are on his forearm, examining the wound gently and applying pressure around the open gash.

"does it hurt when i do this?" you ask, eyes trained on the way that his forearm muscles ripple and move as you apply pressure in different places.

dongmin's not the most buff guy on the planet, and you checking out his muscles was definitely not for your own pleasure, but at least all of his time on the court and in the gym has paid off in some way.

"uh...no. not unless you're super close to the cut," dongmin says and you nod with a gentle smile. it's in that moment that dongmin decides that he would kill anyone and anything just to see you smile like that again,

"that's good to hear. well, i guess that all we need to do is 'slap some gauze on' after disinfecting the wound and making sure we don't have any 'mirror guts' in it," you say, a hint of cheekiness in your tone. dongmin doesn't know what it is about it but it makes him blush, regardless.

"yeah. that sounds good," he says dreamily, trying hard to compose himself once more when you flash him a questioning look.

you work carefully on his arm, making sure to give a tiny little stress ball to dongmin to use when you descend upon his wound with some antibacterial medicine and rubbing alcohol on a cotton ball.

"so, uh, you look pretty young for a doctor...?" dongmin says, trying very hard to focus his attention on you instead of the stinging pain that came with every touch of the cotton ball on his wound. the more he looked at you, the more he began to wonder if he'd seen you somewhere before.

dongmin wasn't the superstitious type, and didn't exactly believe in 'love at first sight', but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't place you anywhere in his memory.

"that might be because 'm not a doctor," you say somewhat distractedly. "i'm a nursing student."

"oh. oh! you're a nursing student?" he asks. student. that means that you were either his age or just a few years older than him. and it also probably meant that you were a student at a university near by - maybe his?

"yep. a second year. although, don't worry, i've completed all of my first aid clinicals last year itself," you explain, leaning back in satisfaction when you finish cleaning up the wound.

"my school has a pretty famous nursing program, you know. maybe you've heard of yonsei's nursing program?" dongmin asks, eyes shining with hope.

it's only then that you look up at dongmin with an excited look in your eyes, turning to throw away the used cotton balls.

"i go to yonsei as well! i'm just starting my second year. it's a little strange because the nursing program runs through the summer, which is why i'm working clinicals right now. i'm almost done though, so i'll be switching into a field i'm more interested in," you say and dongmin swears he hears wedding bells in his mind. beautiful, kind, intelligent, and the same age as him? it was like god was basically handing his soulmate to him on a platter. maybe love at first sight was real after all.

"me too! well, i'm not a nursing major, but i'm a second year electrical engineering major," dongmin says, watching you turn back towards him with a clipboard.

"mhm, well, i've gotta tell you to be careful for the next week or so. no heavy lifting, sports, and definitely no cutting things. we don't want to make the wound worse, now do we?" you say chidingly, scribbling instructions on the clipboard of how to clean the wound with rubbing alcohol and how many pills of ibuprofen to take per day.

"of course," dongmin says half-heartedly. as much as dongmin hated the feeling of pain, the was the only way that he could think of to get to see you again was to somehow hurt himself again.

"how about you come back in a week to just make sure that it closed up well? make sure it didn't get infected or anything?" you ask, handing him the sheet of paper.

god was real.

dongmin swore he was going to go to church and donate at least 10,000 won for the blessing after blessing he was receiving today.

"oh sure," he says, a mischievous thought popping into his head. "but is it ok if i find you on campus? i have a lot of labs over the next week and i can't miss them if i can't even participate in them, so i can at least get the information. i won't really have time to stop by the hospital," dongmin says carefully, watching your expression to ensure that it wasn't changing with every word that escaped your lips.

technically, it wasn't a lie. dongmin did have a lot of labs next week but that's definitely not why he wouldn't have time to stop by the hospital.

"i don't see why not. i don't need any sterile instruments to just check quickly, so that shouldn't be an issue," you say slowly, nodding to yourself as you look around the little station to make sure you wouldn't need any of the equipment.

"perfect," dongmin says, shuffling out of the bed that he was sitting in to leave before turning around nonchalantly. "do you think i could get your number? so i know where to find you?"

you look up at him, and dongmin tries his best to seem sincere and genuine rather than as calculating as he felt, trying every tactic possible to see you again.

"yeah. yeah, here let me type it into your phone."

he hands his phone over to you, and it takes every single fiber of his being to keep himself from looking excited about any part of this transaction. you were already suspicious enough of him; you definitely didn't need more reasons to add to the list.

you're frowning slightly when you hand the phone back to him so dongmin pockets it without a second thought, to prove that he wasn't trying to be weird.

"thank you so much again." dongmin waves as he leaves, flashing the award-winning smile that he usually reserves for aunties and restaurant owners for free sides. oh, and for his fans.

you don't blush and trip over yourself when he does like his fans do - although you offer him a soft smile in return.

although, dongmin muses, i guess it would be weird if a nurse who met me for the first time would be anything like a college basketball star's fan though. maybe.

he shakes his head, opening the door to the hospital, looking down at his arm wrapped in gauze. yeah. there was no way that dongmin was taking a break from basketball. season started in less than three weeks and as yonsei's point guard, he had no choice but to just power through the injury.

it might work out in his favor after all. at least it would give him more chances to see you.

+++

turns out, the universe gives him a chance less than two days after he sees you for the first time. and in any other case, dongmin would be incredibly excited to see you again. he'd probably be ready, waiting with freshly showered hair and clean clothes and nice smelling cologne.

instead, when he sees you again, he's wearing raggedy shorts, a stained shirt, and holding a basketball that he definitely should not be holding.

dongmin knew he was fucked the moment you walked in through the double doors that opened up to the indoor basketball court of yonsei, light spilling in from the outdoors, along with the chatter and excitement of students returning to university.

you walk in wearing white, along with six other people dressed similarly, the basketball team's physician (dr. moon taeil) at the head of them all. dongmin hopes that you don't recognize him - or at least don't see him actively playing but of course, you manage to turn your head to see dongmin throw the ball out of his hands in a random direction in panic.

the ball, then of course, managed to fall neatly through the hoop, as though dongmin had intentionally thrown it there, causing him to want to die on the spot.

so he couldn't do that during a game with korea university, but now that he was doing everything in his power to keep you from seeing him play basketball, now he manages to throw it in the one place it shouldn't go.

your eyes narrow when dongmin turns to face you, your gaze falling to his (poorly) wrapped forearm. he offers you a trembling grin, which slowly turns into a frown when you look away, shaking your head as you start talking to the girl next to you.

at least you wouldn't say anything to coach about how he wasn't supposed to be playing right now, dongmin thinks to himself. even if i've effectively ruined my chances of her ever believing me about anything ever again. uh. not that i've had more than one conversation with her. or might have more in the future.

dongmin shivers, jogging over to where the basketball had fallen to pick it up and return to his place at the three-point line and continue shooting practice.

he returns to where he's supposed to be practicing, so that his back is facing the group of people who'd entered - namely, you.

"i forgot coach mentioned that we've got new on-site medical staff," dongmin mutters to himself, dribbling the ball before lining up his shot. "i didn't know that she'd be a part of that though - she can't be the sporty type if she didn't recognize me from the hospital."

dongmin is so lost in his thoughts that he doesn't even feel the dark presence looming over him until the ball is released from his hand.

"HAN DONGMIN!" someone yells, right next to his ear, and dongmin scrambles to attention, wincing when the basketball bounces off the rim and into the cart of basketballs he was practicing with with a resounding clang!

he turns slowly, eyes closed, as if that would make you go away.

"i cannot believe that i bandaged you up so carefully just for you to start playing again! how could you be so careless? do you not want to be able to play during the season? you're yonsei's ace and you're being this irresponsible!" you're heaving by the end of your rant and dongmin blinks, trying to come up with a response.

you definitely didn't know him well enough to yell at him like this - much less in front of all of his teammates - but for some reason, that's not what stuck out to dongmin.

(much to his chagrin, you being angry was hot. like really hot. especially since he'd thought you'd be the soft and cozy type, not the impulsive and quick to anger type. he really liked this side of you.)

"you know who i am?" he asks slowly.

"OF COURSE I KNOW WHO YOU ARE! OH, YOU ARE GETTING ON MY NERVES. YOU ASS, I DIDN'T BANDAGE YOU UP THAT NEATLY FOR YOU TO BE WALKING AROUND SHOOTING THREES!"

you're yelling at him, and for some reason, dongmin has never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. he'd never though he'd be this attracted to someone that he's just met yelling at him, much less in front of his entire team and her own entire team. but for some reason, as dongmin looks at you waving your hands all crazy and annoyed, all he can think about it how much he likes you.

it wasn't just physical. of course, he thought you were beautiful - possibly the most beautiful person he'd ever seen in his life and he would die on that hill - but it was more than that. it was as though he'd genuinely fallen in love at first sight.

you could tell him that you were a serial killer and at this point, dongmin would just admire your bloodlust.

"uh. dongmin?" coach jung says behind him, hands crossed over his chest. "do you guys need a moment to step out and come back?"

even coach jung seems a little bit intimidated by your livid state of being and dongmin has to cough to cover up his life.

"no coach. we're done here," you say, turning dramatically on your heel to turn back to your friends. but dongmin moves quicker than even his own mind can process what happens.

before he can think, his hand is wrapped around your wrist, spinning you closer to him, almost as if the two of you were ballroom dancing.

you look up at him, shocked, but dongmin is slow to let go of your wrist, not wanting to lose contact with you.

"no, we need just a moment," dongmin says, his eyes never leaving your own. it's clear that you neither expected this nor were used to this kind of behavior from anyone and before the fight that's building inside of you bubbles out, dongmin tilts his head toward the door that leads to a hallway extending to the equipment room, practically begging you with his eyes.

you aqcuiesce - or at least, dongmin thinks you do - from the way that your shoulder melt just the slightest and you let him pull you into the hallway.

"what?" you snap the second the door shuts behind the two of you. "okay, maybe i didn't let on that i knew you from our encounter, but that's irrelevant. i didn't need to tell you that i knew you. and besides, as your healthcare provider, it would have been extremely irresponsible on my end for me to let slip that i'm a fan - or that i know you personally at all."

dongmin can't help but let a small smile slip. "personally? we know each other personally?"

you fluster in that moment, looking anywhere but at dongmin, bringing a large smile to his face. he'd never thought that the feisty, quick to temper and quick to lose it, loud type was his type but he was starting to enjoy it very much.

"alright, well i know you personally enough, alright?" you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "we've met before."

now it's dongmin's turn to look flustered, as he wracks his brain, trying to come up when or where the two of you have met before. he wasn't the one-night-stand type, so that couldn't be it. he also didn't have an insane amount of friends outside of the basketball team and donghyun's friends, so that wasn't it either.

"i'm really sorry - and i'm definitely trying to hit on you, just not right now - but i don't remember. i'd definitely remember someone like you," dongmin says, and he's well aware of the fact that his tone does not sound any level of displeased, and rather dreamy.

you roll your eyes, looking down at the ground. "we kissed once. twice actually. but um. that's not my point."

you clear your throat, as if you hadn't just dropped the biggest bomb of the century on dongmin, shaking your head. "why the hell are you playing basketball on an injured arm anyway? i specifically said no sports!"

dongmin raises an eyebrow. "you say you're my fan and yet you're still asking me why i'm playing when we have our first game in a week. and hold on. i'm not letting go of that first part; we've kissed? twice?"

you shrug, but it's clear that you don't think of it as nonchalantly as you're trying to make it sound when you speak. "yeah. in freshman year. once in spring semester and then once in fall. it's not a big deal. to you at least. clearly you kiss a lot of girls, if you don't even remember us kissing at all."

"now that's not fair," dongmin pouts, but he's well aware that he's not conveying this well at all. suddenly, a flash of a girl wearing a red dress, looking up at him with big eyes and a pouty lips crosses his mind.

good god. were - were you dongmin's mystery girl?

+++

"what do you mean dongmin finally found his mystery girl? the one he's been crushing on for a full year?" myung jaehyun says incredulously, instantly pulling out his phone to look you up on instagram.

dongmin sits in the middle of his friends, all sitting at the same table as they were supposed to be eating lunch, his head resting in his hands.

"you mean the one that he swore was the love of his life? god, he wouldn't shut up about that for at least six months," lee sanghyuk says, shoveling noodles in his mouth.

"try a year," donghyun groans, rubbing his forehead in pain. "do you remember the state of this kid when he woke up the next day?"

"good god, it was horrible. all he could say for a full week was that he wanted to jump out of the window because he'd lost her number and that he was never going to find true love because he couldn't remember her name, number, or even what she looked like," sanghyuck adds.

park sungho, the newest addition to their friend group, blinks, looking at dongmin, who's head is still in his hands.

"you were down bad, man," he muses and jaehyun on the side of him snorts.

"down bad doesn't even begin to describe it. it got to the point where we had 'girl in the red dress' and 'true love' jars because he would talk about her." jaehyun sighed, looking at dongmin pointedly. "he'd put enough money that we'd bought alc for the rest of freshman year. just in spring semester."

"that's what you get for trying to prove that you could drink a 4lokos without getting shitfaced," donghyun says, nose crinkling as he recalled the hours he had to spend making sure that dongmin wasn't going to die by choking on his own spit. "and he went and did it twice. it took us months to get to the point where we could invite this guy anywhere so as long as he swore not to bring her up again."

dongmin looks up, almost excitedly. "do you think that if i drink another 4lokos, we'll kiss at another party?"

sungho leans over, smacking him upside the head. "you're so fucking dumb. and i can tell just by these stories. you're not allowed to drink until season's over, idiot. and she's on your medical team. why don't you start by making a good impression while you're not so drunk you're going to start insisting that spongebob is hydrophobic."

("you were there when that happened?")

("you idiot, you thought i was spongebob. you kept throwing my drinks away because you thought i was going to disappear into them if i drank them. which makes no sense because that's not what hydrophobic means.")

("oh. sorry man.")

"yeah. just go to the med clinic tomorrow, apologize to her, and bring her flowers or something. women eat that shit up!" sanghyuk says with a mouthful of noodles and jaehyun nods, pointing his chopsticks at him excitedly.

"they do! my girlfriend always feels better with food and flowers," he says, cheeks stuffed to the brim with carbonara.

dongmin's mind races with all of the implications of doing so, but every single one of his thoughts fade away in light of the fact that he could redeem himself in your eyes. he slams his hands down on the table, swinging his legs over the bench to run to the nearest flower shop.

"i'll be back before practice!" dongmin calls out over his shoulder, waving a quick goodbye as he sprints towards the florists.

he makes it to the edge of the courtyard before he hears the yelling of his friends behind him, turning to see them waving at him (and waving some very rude fingers at him).

"YOU FORGOT YOUR WALLET, YOU IDIOT!"

+++

dongmin's friends were useless. absolutely useless.

he'd went and bought the prettiest bouquet of flowers he could find, a nice meal from his favorite bento place, and had even bought three different types of ice cream bars because he didn't know which one you'd like.

he'd walked right into the medical clinic office, his apology gifts all in hand, ready to apologize to you, redeem his honor, and become your own true love.

the last part probably wasn't going to work anyway, but the first two should've been foolproof.

instead, he manages to prove that he was a fool.

as it turns out, he wasn't the only person who thought that the flowers were beautiful; dongmin had managed to bring the queen bee as a secret surprise in the bouquet, which meant that the rest of her hive was NOT very happy that he'd committed royal kidnap, as far as the bees were concerned.

"HAN DONGMIN WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU!" you yell from underneath your desk, where you were hiding from the sudden swarm of bees that had followed dongmin in.

he doesn't respond, too busy opening the window to drop the flowers out of, hesitating when he sees the number of people that were lounging around the courtyard that the medical office looked out of.

dongmin lines up the bouquet, sending a prayer to god (any one that would listen) as he shoots the best three he's ever shot in his life, so that the bouquet (and all of the bees that accompanied it) landed far away enough from people to prevent them from getting hurt.

of course, a few brave souls had stayed behind to exact revenge for their queen on dongmin, resulting in upwards of five bee stings, before dongmin finally evaded the great medical bee disaster once and for all.

he turns sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.

"i don't suppose i could find medical care in this clinic, could i?" he says, and he's well aware of the fact that he's flushed bright red, as he always seems to when he's made a fool of himself.

thankfully, there are only four or five people, including you, in the office to witness this disaster - although, dongmin can see the girl you were talking to yesterday surpressing a smile.

"yeah, of course you could. but we're all headed on break so unfortunately, y/n is the only person who's gonna be able to give you medical care. you know, since you've already brought lunch for her," your friend says with a knowing grin. she ushers the rest of the medical staff out of the office, closing the door behind her with a telltale click.

"you can come out from under the desk now," dongmin says, and despite the situation, he finds it adorable that in the case of a bee swarm, your first instinct had been to hide underneath a desk.

"i was going to," you grumble, slinking out from your hiding spot and dusting off invisible dust from your pants. "what were you thinking, bringing flowers with bees in them?"

dongmin blushes, tilting his head as he tries to look anywhere but where you were. "i wanted to apologize to you. in my defense, i kinda always thought bees were made up. i mean, they're so fat! there's no way they should be able to fly. that directly violates like every law of aviation in the world."

your eyebrow quirks upward as you look at the ice cream and lunch he had set down on your desk in his bee-induced panic. "i can't believe you're quoting the bee movie at me right now."

"i can't believe you know i'm quoting the bee movie. i should've known the love of my life was an internet connoiseur," dongmin says with a sigh, examining the bee stings on his arm. how did these bees even manage to crawl underneath the sleeves of his shirt?

"excuse me?" you bark, hands on your hips. "did you just call me the love of your life? when you couldn't even remember who i was like yesterday?"

"okay, wait. you don't understand. first, i need you to help me out by getting some ointment on these stings because they're starting to burn and i don't know if that's so normal. and then, i'll explain everything, trust me."

you reluctantly reach back into a cabinet that reads 'insect stings' and grab the kit for bee stings, pulling a cream out of it, beckoning dongmin to come closer so that you could treat it.

"do you remember what happened that night? or those two nights, i guess?" you ask softly, eyes trained on dongmin's arm so that you don't have to look him in the eyes and he nods.

"i remember. well, as much as i can, anyway. i was blackout drunk both times. and from what i remember, you weren't exactly sober either, so i don't know how you remember me but trust me, whatever you think about me is not true. i was - i was so down bad that my friends had to make a 'no y/n' jar!" dongmin yelps the last part when your hand on his arm presses a little too hard.

"i'm sorry! sorry!" you gasp, immediately leaning over to blow cool air on the place you'd accidentally put too much pressure. "what do you mean by a no 'no y/n' jar though? i thought you didn't remember my name."

"i didn't! and it killed me! i don't remember exactly what happened those nights but i remember how much i liked you. i remember thinking that i'd never meet a girl like you in my life. it still frustrates me that i lost your number - although, i do remember the part where you smacked me over the head the second time that we met. i think i suffered permanent brain damage from that.

"but i remember glimpses of that night. like that red dress you were wearing and how much you were rambling about stars. you were giving me an in-depth explanation about how black holes work and something about how rockets look like they're stuck in time in black holes. not the point. but the point is that i genuinely fell in love with you that first night we met.

"i've got this horrid habit though, when i get drunk - i become either super scared of water, or super infatuated with it. it's honestly a coin-toss. so imagine my feeling the next morning when i wake up with a dissolved piece of paper in my pocket that's supposed to have your number on it, semi-wet clothes, and a raging migraine.

"i thought i met the love of my life and i couldn't even remember her name, number, or even her face. it drove me and my friends absolutely nuts. me because i didn't know how to find you when i couldn't remember anything. my friends went insane because i would talk about you so much that they bought me those swear jars for every time i mentioned you.

"of course, i didn't know your name so you were just 'the love of my life' or 'girl in the red dress' but i think i dumped at least 300,000 won in those jars by the end of the semester. and then as if the universe was out to make my life living hell, we met again and i was shitfaced again. i swore to never touch a 4lokos after that, if that's any level of redemption.

"anyway. i brought you flowers and all this stuff because i wanted to tell you that - that i've liked you for a lot longer than even i've known! i remember most of the conversations that we had, even if i couldn't remember exactly who you were. when i saw you at the hospital, i genuinely thought i was falling in love at first sight. but i guess, that's kinda not true. cause that would be my third time falling in love at first sight."

"why, though? three times? i mean, i don't think i'm ugly or anything but three times? yeah, i mean i guess i kinda also had a thing for you after those two nights. god. i wish i remembered what we talked about for us to get this attached," you say, mumbling the last part. dongmin turns to you somewhat confused, watching you as you open up the bento box he'd bought you.

"you don't remember what we talked about? besides the black holes and stuff?"

"nope. but i've also got a horrible reputation amongst my friends for how much i talked about you. the worst part is that i remembered you but not what we talked about. it was so stupid because no one believed me that han dongmin, yonsei's point guard was the guy i'd had my heart for the past year." you instinctively smile the moment you take a bite of the food and even though it's so small, dongmin's heart swells with pride.

"why didn't you ever come up to me? i mean, this whole year of pining could've been avoided if you'd talked to me," dongmin says, accepting the ice cream bar you handed him. how the hell did you know that was his favorite ice cream?

"i gave you my number once, and i kissed you twice. i figured you were just ghosting me at some point if you weren't going to reach out to me. and besides, nursing really picked up right after basketball season so...i kinda just ended up torturing my friends for the past year," you say, somewhat sheepishly, but dongmin is barely even listening anymore.

after all, how many people can say that they fell in love at first sight with the same person three times?

"well. we're here now. will you go out with me? i promise i won't even touch a 4lokos!"

"deal. as long as you promise to tell me everything we talked about that night. i still can't tell why i fell so hard for you that i chased you down a basketball court in front of your whole team."

"my stellar looks? my killer smile? my stupidly handsome personality? my superb basketball skills?"

"try your stupid attraction to water molecules."

"i have a feeling i shouldn't have told you about that."

+++

freshman year, spring semester.

"really? you've never fallen in love before?" you ask incredulously. you and dongmin are sitting on the balcony of some random friend who decided to throw a party, feet dangling over the edges in between the bars.

"nah. i don't think so," dongmin says, leaning backwards on his palms. "i don't think i've ever met someone who's ever made me feel like my entire heart is their's to do whatever they want to do with."

"then let's play this game," you say, clumsily pulling out your phone. "that one thing on new york times, where you fall in love with someone within 36 questions."

"why? you want me to fall in love with you?" dongmin says, leaning over with a cheeky smile. you push him playfully, focused on trying to pull up the questions list.

"you'd do that whether i told you to or not," you fire back. "and besides, i think i'm a fantastic kisser. so you're probably already in love."

"you're right," dongmin says with a sigh. "i think i am."

freshman year, fall semester.

"question 36. i can't believe we never finished all the questions last time," you say. this time the two of you are sitting so close, dongmin can still taste the watermelon chapstick you're wearing. at this point though, dongmin might as well be the one wearing it.

"to be fair, last time i think we were otherwise preoccupied."

"get your mind out of the gutter!"

"i was talking about how many times you kept getting distracted by the dog."

"anyway. we're on question 36; are you in love with me yet?"

"i should be asking you that. i've been in love."

"han dongmin! i thought you weren't the superstitious type?"

"i'll be whatever you want me to be."

#jnnul #boynextdoor #bnd x reader #taesan x reader #bnd imagines #bnd fluff #taesan #bonedo #taesan fluff #taesan boynextdoor #taesan imagines #taesan bnd #bnd fic #boynextdoor fic #boynextdoor imagines

926 notes · View notes

parasolladyansy · 3 months ago

Text

DxP REWRITE - Two Umbrellas

We can thank a single line of dialogue from Masters EX for this moment: I was looking for inspo in his quotes when I happened on one where he offers to escort the player to their destination. From that & other things he’d say, I’ve concluded that Ingo is a bit of a mother hen - he’s the guy to walk little old ladies across the street, zero in on a child’s crying, has a first aid kit in his pocket, etc. Call it older sibling instinct (I have it too lol).

This is how I see his friendship with Ansy - starting off as walking her around Nimbasa City, then just going on walks together where they’d talk about stuff. Then if they get caught in the rain, Ansy has an umbrella if he doesn’t. 🌧️

Speaking of which, in case you don’t know or haven’t watched enough anime lol, she was telling Emmet that where she’s from (Kanto), sharing an umbrella can mean they’re dating (no worries, he has his own umbrella off-screen, a Tynamo one like Ingo’s Lampent umbrella).

PS: Emmet’s friendship with Ansy is basically just one long game of teasing the other - started off with him trying to make her smile as always, then she surprised him by teasing back. The rest is history. 🤭

🔼 Diamond x Pearl REWRITE 🔽

<< Previous / Next >>

#pokemon #fancomic #trainersona #my oc #ingo #nobori #emmet #kudari #submas #nimbasa city #rain #memories #friendship #older sibling instinct #you do have to get really close sharing an umbrella lol #speaking from experience

389 notes · View notes

dwaekkicidal · 2 months ago

Note

Hey cutie, you've done puppy Seungmin and WolfChan, but what about when the bunny reader is in heat? I mean, she's always grinding on Channie, giving him hickies everywhere, just feeling way more possessive than she normally does, she's just onto him 24/7. (Also, if you're comfortable, please could you describe the reader as chubby? Sorry, English is my fourth language lol 😅)

Also, I looove your work. You're one of my most favourite Tumblr writers.

🥲🥲🥲 that last comment got me kicking my feet n shit :')) thank u that means a lot to me <3

wc» ~600

cw» kinda? chubby fem!reader, bunny!hybrid reader, heats, p in v, breeding (everybody act surprised), pregnancy mentions: 'kits' are baby bunnies btw

❥ Chris absolutely LOVES when your heat is coming around. He loves how clingy you get and the way you rub your face on everything you can.

❥ It's just all so endearing to him. The way you stay glued to his arm when you're out and about with him, and then once you're home you just push him onto the couch and throw yourself on top of him, expecting his immediate attention and cuddles.

❥ And the way you rub your cheek all over his arms or his tummy when you're cuddling with him, it being your nonverbal way of requesting his love and affection.

❥ He gets sooo riled up when your heat first hits. He always notices the day it starts, but you never seem to connect the dots. As if the way you latch yourself onto his neck and suck pretty, dark marks into his neck as your nails dig into his arm don't give it away.

❥ Your foggy little brain doesn't really process why the sloppy makeout sessions get you so built up and horny, or why you suddenly need his hands on you at all times during these sessions. It's almost as if you're subconsciously trying to make him claim you

❥ He feels like get into his own "human heat" when yours starts. The way you need him and his seed so carnally at all hours of the day drives him insane. Even more so when he wakes up the next morning to shower and finds deep, red scratches all over his arms and his back- he's almost the one waking you up ready to go again.

❥ It's still endearing even as you grind down onto him on the couch during movie night. Your lack of panties under your shorts being obvious thanks to the slick that's getting all over his sweatpants and leaving a dark spot right above his dick

❥ He'll just sit there with a dopey smile on his face as his fingers dig into the fat of your hips, helping you use him to get off, and even encouraging you.

"Shh... Good job baby. Take what's yours, yeah?"

"Channie's got you, Bunny. Keep being good and I'll breed you nice a deep."

❥ AbsoLUTELY eggs on your desire to get bred during your heat. During downtime will show you pictures of little Bunny-hybrid kits (that vaguely look like one of you) and will just so happen to scroll past baby clothes when he's doing online shopping "for us"

❥ And when he has you below him, bent into a million positions and drooling all over your nest, he's going to talk non-stop about how good you'll look round and full of his babies- of "our kits"

❥ He's gonna pound you so good and so deep as he says all these things, even telling you that he's gonna breed your heat away; that he's gonna fuck you so well and get you so pregnant so often that you won't remember what a heat even is

❥ Loves grabbing onto your tummy and pushing down onto it when he has you in missionary- making you really feel how deep he is and how deep his cum will be soon

❥ Sometimes even just rubs your stomach and says something about how "This is where my babies are" and how he's gonna keep his kin safe no matter what

❥ Is already a huge "boobs guy" and literally jumps off the fucking walls when he latches onto your tits and says something like "I need to enjoy these while I can. When we have kids, I won't be able to see them nearly as often" Will pout sooo hard while saying that and looks at them as if the world is ending

#sian’s writing #stray kids smut #stray kids drabbles #stray kids x reader #skz smut #skz drabbles #skz x reader #skz headcanons #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #bang chan imagines #chan x reader smut #chan imagines

289 notes · View notes

mud-castle · 3 days ago

Note

Ok but now I’m imagine that he grew up like tall, even close to Tigerclaw’s height… like gods Maine coon firestar

Graystripe: starclan Fireheart! How you get so big suddenly! You were so tiny when we first met

Fireheart (not really thinking, too much interest in the shrew he was eating): oh that because I was four moons old when we met

Whole clan goes silent

Longtail: I TRIED TO BEAT UP A BABY?!

Lol, Maine Coon Firestar would have to be like two moons old for him to be considered small for a six month old apprentice.

For the sake of maturity you could make him as big as a normal apprentice by making him three moons. Which is still bad, but he's probably old enough that his speech wouldn't tip them off.

I really want to write a oneshot about this now.

Cats, mostly the different queens, noticing how off his development is compared to the other apprentices but dismissing it because he's a kittypet. Of course he looks like he's about to cry during training when he gets knocked down. That's his kttypet weakness showing. Of course he still pounces on cats' tails and romps with the kits. Kittypets are immature like that.

I think Firepaw might not tell Bluestar out of fear of being kicked out for not being able to keep up. When he gets older he probably realizes how silly it was but to younger him that was a valid threat.

Since Yellowfang figured out that he was a kittypet on her own, I think she'd notice she's fighting a kit and immediately back off. She'd probably have an argument with Spottedleaf later about how no, him being part of a prophecy does not justify you making a kit an apprentice. You should've told Bluestar. what is wrong with you.

Following the timeline, he'd be made a warrior at like six or seven moons old. Canon Firestar was at least a young adult when he became leader, Maine Coon Firestar wouldn't even be fully matured at a few moons less than two years old.

Maine coons also don't shed their kitten coats until they're two years old. So Firestar suddenly starts shedding an insane amount and finally gets his adult coat and the clan is silently horrified. I mean, they're probably already concerned that he never stopped growing until he was leader. Even Tigerstar was grown at the age they thought Fire was. If you want to be symbolic this could happen around the time they form Lionclan.

Tigerstar is beefing with a teenager until his death.

Fireheart is like a fourteen year old trying to train a thirteen year old Cinderpaw. No wonder it ended badly

#warrior cats #warrior cats au #Firestar #Ask

212 notes · View notes

glitter-epoch · 9 months ago

Note

Hiii, always love to see people obsessing over love and deepspace (bc I'm addicted too), can I please request zayne fic about his hands and fingers? Can be suggestive, can be pure smut, up to you lol, ok thanks byee

HIII yes i can!!! i can't believe my first request is a zayne's hands request this feels like a gift. thank you for requesting i hope you like!!!

[ there’s a part 2 now :) ] ☄. *. ⋆ gn! reader | 2.8k words | suggestive, not smut | zayne gives reader stitches but it's deliberately not described in detail/no mentions of needles/blood

“my lunch break ends in fifteen minutes,” zayne had said, staring past your head in thought. “it would be a waste of time to check you in.”

you stood there in the bustling lobby of akso hospital, one paper-towel-bound hand pressed to the sliced skin over your hipbone, and waited. surely he wasn’t telling you to just leave. you were only friends, so it’s not like he had an obligation to you; but he was your primary care doctor, and...

and. there was, is, an and. you’re not sure what exactly to call it, and zayne is so adonis-like you’re embarrassed to even suggest he might like you.

“i’m sorry,” you said in earnest, a little surprised by his usual coldness that you’d arrogantly assumed would thaw upon seeing your injury. “i didn’t mean for you to drop everything for me. i should have gone to an urgent care, or something, i just thought since you’re here...”

zayne looked down from the spot over your head, clearly removed from his pensive mood. his intention to argue with you was clear, but he held his tongue stonily until you finished your rambling.

“no,” he replied. “you should never go to another doctor. i was just thinking.”

you blushed like an idiot. “ever?” you mocked.

“mm,” he murmured, back to thinking again. he brought his forearm to circle the small of your back, not touching, and motioned you forward. “come with me.”

and now, here you are: sitting on the grey sofa in front of the wall-length window, early afternoon light bleeding white all over zayne’s office. for a few moments, he’s left you alone to gather materials, and you relish in what feels like a small victory.

i’ve been personally invited to the office.

not like it’s the first time, though.

zayne returns with a small kit swallowed by the size of his pale hands; the sleeves of his button-down pinned up to his elbows. you shift, balancing your weight unnaturally on one leg. His eyes snag on you as he grabs his glasses from his desk (far taller than the tabletop, he must lean down to grab those, too).

“lay down,” zayne commands.

you blink, glancing around to try to figure out the most convenient position to get into for him to work. by the time he’s come over and sat down on the glass table in front of you, you’re still sitting up.

“you can put your head on the armrest and your feet that way,” he nods, not a hint of impatience in his deep voice. “i can see you squirming. when you sit up like you are, you’re putting pressure on the wound. it must hurt.”

“i haven’t even shown you the wound,” you retort, not sure why you’re arguing so much- and swallowing a wince as you turn to prop your head up on the side of the sofa.

“i see your handywork,” zayne replies. he pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves and they snap quietly against his wrists. he’s clearly careful not to let the noise be too loud. “hm.”

you frown in place of a (shameful) gulp at the sight of the gloves hugging his hands.

“is this bad?” you ask. “i’m sorry. i tried not to mess with it too much.”

zayne pieces through the small kit on the table beside him. even his rummaging is succinct; long fingers deftly parsing through the stack of metal utensils inside. he comes up with two sets of narrow pliers and a cotton round.

he passes the pliers through his fingers like pencils, balancing them between his knuckles, and pours a solvent that looks like lens cleaner onto the cotton pad.

“not bad,” he says, eyes on the pliers as he polishes them. “the paper towel is fine. but you got it wet beforehand.”

“and that’s bad?”

“you’ll be alright,” he murmurs- or maybe he always sounds like that- and discards the cotton round. the corners of his lips just barely curl. “you won’t die, i suppose.”

“well, i’d hope not. it’s just a cut.”

“and what did you do this time?” zayne demands softly, fishing in the kit for what you now realize will be sutures.

“i had an assignment with xavier and failed to climb a fence.”

“you impaled yourself, then,” he remarks coldly. “and xavier.”

he sets a roll of sterile surgical threads on a wider cotton pad and turns his eyes to your midriff, which is still mostly covered by your shirt; wound hiding beneath it.

“xavier, yeah,” you inhale deeply, mentally preparing for the stitches. “my partner. i’ve mentioned him, i think.”

“yes, you have,” zayne says. his voice is strained. then he inhales, a whole breath through his nose, mouth closed in stoic secrecy; and nods to your hips. “lift your shirt, please.”

you’re grateful that he’s given you a task and you don’t have to look him in his eyes after that tiny display of disdain (for your partner? for your hips? hopefully the former?). But as you lift your shirt, the paper towel comes loose.

“ouch,” you hiss.

you realize you’re probably stressing him out.

“it’s not bad,” you add, uncharacteristically hoarse.

“it’s not,” zayne agrees softly, eyeing the wound with his usual cold stare. his eyes refuse to flicker above or below the cut, which rests just over the shallow ridge of your hipbone, right above the line of your trousers. “but it hurts, i'm sure.”

you nod. “sure.”

“sure,” he repeats, almost as if to mock you, almost as if he’s just making sure he heard you right.

zayne busies himself preparing a cotton round of saline, and in the middle of this, says,

“you’ll have to unbutton your pants. can you fold the waistband over?”

your neck is suddenly clammy. “oh. yeah, sure.”

“if you can’t fold them down far enough, you’ll have to take them off.”

your eyes blow out like glass.

zayne, whom you suspected might have been deliberately extending the length of his cotton-round-preparing, is surprisingly the one to smile first. almost wickedly. “i would get you a cover, of course.”

“oh, how nice of you.”

he laughs barely, an exhale from his nose. you unbutton your trousers, fabric shifting against metal.

he inhales at the sound.

the blue latex over his knuckles catches light from the windows. you watch moments later as he threads the sutures, fascinated by how efficient his hands are. they’re longer than they are wide, and slender, not bear-like; but big nonetheless. and yet his fingers move like knitting needles, never missing a beat, never shaking. “would you like to do it yourself?” zayne asks suddenly.

his voice is like a hum, always vibrating in his chest.

you bristle. “god, no.”

“then why are you staring?”

you’re hoping he won’t finish on that very word, but he does, and he looks at you with his usual resolve of steel. you decide that no answer is the only good answer, and instead say,

“okay. good luck. don’t mess up, please.”

he chuckles and leans over you, the breadth of his sharp shoulders blocking the sun. “i never mess up.”

the words ‘mess’ and ‘up,’ are foreign on his tongue, like he’d never refer to a mistake so casually, like he’s never made one in his life. he probably hasn’t, you think.

zayne lifts up the cotton round, which is practically the size of a pea in his hand. “i’m going to clean around it. the solution may sting, but not much. it will be over fast.”

you nod. “sure.”

he chuckles again. “sure,” he hums, and then, before he presses down, “here.”

he swipes the cotton round over your hipbone, startlingly light. goosebumps rise instantly on your flesh. his fingers are icy, even through the gloves; they radiate cold like a lamp radiates heat.

zayne is kind enough not to mention your instant squirming and moves quickly to start the sutures.

“this will be fast, too,” he says, looking unwaveringly into your eyes. like he’s trying to will the fear out of you. “not as fast as that, but faster than you’d imagine.”

you nod. “sure.”

“there it is again,” he smiles. “sure.”

you grin incredulously. “i don’t know what else to say. you’re about to stab me.”

his smile is thin and almost prideful as he grabs his glasses and slips them on. he leans over your hips, then looks up at you; pushing them up the bridge of his nose.

“aren’t you glad it’s me, at least, and not some stranger?”

you’re busy inhaling and exhaling like a horse, trying to calm down. “i am glad it’s you, yes.”

your desperation throws him and his jaw sets like a stone, adam’s-apple bobbing.

“alright,” zayne says, nearly whispering. “now.”

he begins the sutures. you gasp, instantly, at first through your nose and then through your mouth; which pops open unwittingly. it’s nearly a whine.

“i know,” zayne murmurs, leaning back a tiny bit as he works; so his face is visible to you. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.”

you bite down hard and screw your eyes shut, but all you do is flinch each time his fingers move. he stops almost instantaneously, like pulling the plug on a treadmill.

“look at me,” zayne says, deep voice rumbling against your thigh.

you peel one eye open and then the other.

“i know it hurts,” he says gently. “but you can’t move. i could seriously hurt you.”

“sorry, sorry,” you nod. “i know.”

the pools of his eyes are clear. he’s resolute in his instructions as he speaks, every word confident.

“breathe the entire time, through every suture. i can work while your stomach moves; i can’t work if you’re flinching away.”

“okay.”

his brows lift. “okay?”

again, you nod. “okay. i’m sorry.”

“no apologies,” zayne says.

he presses his hand flat to the side of your belly that’s unharmed, the tips of his long fingers just barely curling around the slope of your waist. you inhale slowly at that, blinking rapidly. his hand is cool as glass.

you panic, as if he can somehow feel the coil that winds up in your stomach; watching his fingers splayed across your navel.

“i’m going to try again,” he says. you can feel the words all the way down to his fingertips. then his thumb moves, caressing the skin just over your waistband. “breathe.”

well, i can’t now.

“got it,” you grind out.

“good,” zayne hums. “three, two, one...”

and it starts again. you bite down, tongue taut to the roof of your mouth.

“don’t,” zayne warns, stern as ever, but his fingers keep working. “breathe. i can see whether you’re doing it.”

the coil in your stomach tightens. you peel your eyes open and watch him work, knuckles grazing over the soft, thin flesh that’s been revealed from behind the waistband of your trousers.

his eyes flash away from your navel as you start to watch. moments later, you’re stunned to see how laser-focused he is, pupils never moving from your cut.

“do you ever get nervous doing this?” you ask, apt to make the time pass faster by talking. like your mouth isn’t wet just watching him do his job. “are you nervous?”

“no.” his reply is instant. “i’ve done this hundreds of times.”

you’re stunned. “i would be nervous.”

“you are nervous,” zayne murmurs. “close your eyes.”

the ball of his wrist presses into the juncture of your hipbone.

“no,” you gasp. too fast.

zayne’s fingers slow, utensils suspended. he looks up at you, somehow feeling taller still. “no?”

you shake your head. “i-i don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do next.”

oh, sure.

he’s stopped working at this point, watching you like a hawk. “then i’ll tell you what i’m going to do before i do it.”

“that’s okay,” you exhale. i’m dying.

zayne’s eyes rove over yours, not unkind, but uncaring about how visible his assessment of you is. clinical, even still. the corners of his lips curl up.

you’re not sure how it’s possible for your stomach to drop while laying flat on your back, but it does; your ears hot as irons.

he goes back to work without another word. you’re so embarrassed, you finally shut your eyes and let your head weigh on the armrest until he’s done.

“alright,” zayne says. “that’s it. don’t move.”

you keep your eyes shut, nodding. “i really can’t thank you enough, i-”

“watch.”

for a moment, you lay there. then you open your eyes, peering down at him, too uncertain to be shocked yet. “what?”

zayne takes his small kit from the table and places it on your lap. you startle, blink, as he sifts through the contents of it. gloves still on.

“this is another cleanser,” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically musical. “i’m going to clean around the sutures.”

you stare incredulously at him. “...okay.”

he’s not fooled by your aloofness. zayne’s right hand works slow circles with a cotton round around your cut; the other comes down flat to keep the waistband of your trousers from getting in his way. both are cold to the touch; never quite warming.

your jaws come apart and you barely manage to stop your mouth from falling open as discards the cotton round and takes the corner of your waistband into his hand.

he buttons your trousers; pulls the zipper up.

you watch like a fool. then, when he’s done, and you think you’ll have to admit to what you’re thinking, he furrows his brows at your face.

“did you cut yourself here, too?” he murmurs.

“where?” you croak.

zayne shakes his head and slowly peels off the gloves; letting them slide slowly off his fingers. “mm. here.”

he reaches forward and spreads fingers to cup your temples. one thumb glides over your browbone, low enough that you can see it; four or five times before removing his kit from your hips and leaning back.

you exhale harshly and move to sit up, wondering if you’ll be able to somehow flee the office without another word.

“not yet,” zayne says. “lay back again. you don’t have to put your head back; just lean back.”

and you do it, instantly, because...well, because.

zayne pulls a rectangular gauze pad with an adhesive border from the small kit. then he leans forward- he'd be positioned between your legs, if you opened them- and pulls your shirt up once more.

as he presses the bandage over your sutured wound, it seems like even he can’t look at you. but his usually statuesque expression is lifted with amusement, plus something more sinister.

“you like to watch me work,” he hums.

his fingers dip under your waistband to smooth the bandage over.

“shut up,” you bite.

he leans back and watches you with no further offerings- words or otherwise medically dubious practices- and looks quite pleased. his breath is ragged, though; chest lifting and caving.

“thank you,” you exhale. your tongue darts out over your lips.

his pupils are swollen. “sure.”

you grin, caught off guard by the joke. it sounds ridiculous in his voice.

“my break will be ending,” zayne says, stony as ever once again as he walks to his desk.

you stand, smoothing your hair down like something far more scandalous just occurred than stitches.

“what do i owe you?” you ask. this earns a genuine, icy glare.

“nothing,” zayne replies, pulling on his white jacket and grabbing his things. “but go to the front desk before you leave. i’m going to call in a prescription ointment for you.”

you blink at him, thrice. a little dizzy. “oh, wow. thank you.”

as zayne strides to the door, you think he might genuinely leave you there without another word. but he takes the door handle, and, almost shy, turns over his shoulder and says,

“i’d like to stay with you, but i can’t. i’ll be working until dinner.”

“no, no,” you rush, stepping to meet him at the door. “i’m fine. thank you so much, for doing this. i was just thinking.”

he still can’t look at you, but at that; zayne grins.

“i’ll call you when i get home,” he says. then, “is that okay?”

you swallow. “of course.”

“i want to know how the sutures feel in a couple of hours,” he adds.

“oh, sure,” you tease.

his eyes darken, like darts. you’re almost afraid.

zayne opens the door for you and waits for you to pass by, eyes full of mirth as he looks down at you. “i’m glad i could be of service.”

he raps his fingers on a clipboard until you look away. you blush feverishly all the way down the hall at how he says ‘service.’

☄. *. ⋆

this is not how you do stitches nor how you sterilize utensils. anyways FIRST POST. lol. anon if you or anyone else wants a part 2 of this (nsfw) i wiiiiiill do it lmk

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deep space x reader #l&ds zayne #l&ds x reader #l&ds #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #l&ds fic #l&ds smut

673 notes · View notes

pleasantlycrazyworld · 13 days ago

Note

Hi!! Saw your post🤭 What about reader tending to Bucky's wounds? And being all soft with him😭 It could be fluffy and ending with something else👀🫣

Thank you for the request! I've been wanting to write for bucky for a while lol I really hope you like it <3 I kind of have a part two in my head that I might do for this

He stumbled through the hall, trying to get to his apartment before passing out. He didn't mean to lean against your door. He didn't want you to know he just got home. Hell, he didn't even want you to know he had gotten hurt tonight. You were the sweetest person to ever come into his life, his cute, sweet, caring neighbor. Thinking of you made his heart skip a beat lately. He met you when you first moved into the building, and he felt drawn to you ever since. You asked him to help you build a bookshelf, and you repaid him with homemade bread. How could he not be drawn to you after that?

He groans both in pain and at hearing your footsteps walking towards your front door. He was still leaning against the door when you opened it. You weren't expecting someone to fall into your arms when you opened your door, but looking down at Bucky, you were grateful that you caught him.

"Bucky!?" Your voice was filled with confusion and concern. Bucky was clearly bleeding heavily, the side of his white shirt was turning bright red, and through a groan, he gave a guilty smile, "Hi doll." He cringed at your scoff, "Don't doll me when you're bleeding in my arms. " You helped him get to your bathroom and helped him sit on the edge of your bathtub.

"I'm really sorry, doll." He mumbled while trying to take off his shirt to make your job easier. His eyes followed your figure as it bounced around, trying to find your first aid kit. You finally calmed down once you do find the first aid kit, and you settle between his legs to clean his wounds.

"Do I want to know what happened?" You whispers break the uneasy silence that was settling in. He winced at the thought of telling you what he had to do earlier. "We don't have to talk about it," you assured him as you bandaged the wound in his side, "We can just get you cleaned up, and I can make something to eat? Maybe we can watch a movie that's on your list. " He smiled softly, hearing your assurance.

"I have been wanting to watch a movie, I think Sam said it's about some pretty lady." You giggled at the misprounced movie title, "pretty women?" You asked, already knowing what he meant. He nodded sheepishly, making you nod with him while you pushed his hair back to start washing the blood off of his forehead. "You got it sergeant." A blush dusted his face quickly when you leaned down and kissed his now clean forehead. "Come on, let's get you more comfy. You can stay over tonight." You showed him to your bedroom as you ramble about ordering a pizza so you can watch more movies. You turned to ask him what he thought, but you were taken back when he was already watching you.

"What? Is everything ok?" You asked worried that he was in pain, he shook his head with a goofy smile forming, "nothings wrong doll."

Nothing was wrong. He may have been stabbed earlier that day, but he just realized he may be falling in love again. Nothing could be wrong with that happening.

A/n: I don't have a taglist for bucky, but lmk if i should make one! Request for bucky and Logan howlett are still open. Please send more ideas. I love getting them, and it really helps with my motivation. <3 If you did like my work, please reblog and comment. I really appreciate it. I'm going to start working on a bucky masterlist, so keep an eye out for that

188 notes · View notes

amethystwrytes · 2 months ago

Text

Safe.

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin X Fem. Reader X Lee Minho

Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous.

Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Me not knowing a single thing about medicine and relying on Google to give me accurate-ish information and the hope that I'm kind of explaining it correctly but knowing I'm probably not, so apologies to any reader who may work in medicine and is rolling their eyes at me lol. 18+ Only.

Chapter WC: 6k

AN: I have never ever in my life written a mafia fic, at least nothing I’ve ever posted or kept so…good luck. Additionally, this fic was originally all one doc which ended up being too much to handle, like Tumblr would not even try to meet me halfway. So I decided to break her up into chapters which I will post routinely until she's over. No idea how many chapters bc I’m still deciding on how to separate some of the later parts of the story…so hang tight with me.

-PART ONE-

It’s the blare of a phone ringing that wakes you in the middle of the night. You pull yourself to the edge of the bed and look at the two phones that lay on your bedside table. One is personal, in a shiny black case that in truth, hardly ever rings or blips anymore. The other is a silver phone, caseless, a little worse for the wear and the screen is illuminated with an unsaved telephone number. This particular detail doesn’t really matter, there’s only a few people who would be calling it, and they cycle through burner phones so often there’s no point in saving anything.

“Hello?” your voice is scratchy from sleep.

“We’re ten minutes out,” Changbin says urgently, skipping greetings entirely. You sit up and throw your feet over the edge of the bed.

“Who is it and how bad?” you ask, flitting around your bedroom switching lights on and grabbing a hair tie.

“It’s Hyunjin, and I don’t think he’s going to die but I can’t stop the bleeding,” Changbin grunts.

“Gun shot?” you assume, already downstairs and clearing the dining table, wondering what kind of trauma you need to prepare for.

“Stabbed.”

“Fuck,” you stop. Possibilities like artery and organ punctures start spinning around your head. You pray it’s not abdominal, but you know these men too well so you don’t ask, because you’re sure you already know the answer.

“We can’t take him to an ER, ___, his face is on every list in the city. You know they always keep informants in the emergency departments, we can’t take him there,” Changbin urges and it sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

He’s correct. When Lee Minho, crime lord and your current employer first found you, you were working the night shift at the emergency department. You knew that because of the high crime rate in the city, many of the staff who sat at the check in and triage stations were also paid police informants, ready to dial up the officers to run any names or faces that looked sketchy, had a shady story, or came in with GSWs, or similar combative injuries.

“Okay. Okay, keep direct pressure on the wound and I mean a lot of pressure Changbin, it’s going to feel like you’re hurting him but trust me, lots of pressure. I’ll prep the dining room,” you tell him.

You take a deep breath and think. You start a pot of boiling water and lay out some clean towels on the counter. Then fly around the room opening drawers: Gloves, scissors, gauze, bandages, wound packing strips, disinfectant, antibiotics, stitch kit, and the silent prayer that no arteries, or internal organs have been compromised because you are not a surgeon and you will have to send them out to a hospital, which is more time wasted and gives Hyunjin a significantly lower survival chance.

You weigh a clean sheet down over the table just as you hear tires squeal into the driveway outside. You run to the door and unlock it, propping it open so they can carry him in.

“It’s bad ___, he’s out cold,” Felix grunts breathlessly as he and Changbin carry an unconscious Hyunjin into the room. All three are covered in blood and you don’t bother asking if it’s Hyunjins, theirs, or someone else's. The two of them are walking, conscious and breathing, so it doesn’t matter at the moment.

“Okay, it’ll be okay,” you blather in a much higher tone than you mean to.

You don the gloves and grab the scissors, cutting up the seams of Hyunjins black satin shirt, soaked with blood. Changbin keeps his hand pressed to Hyunjins left side, a balled up tee shirt gripped in his shaking fist.

“Bin,” you say softly, “I need to cut the shirt away, okay? When I say three I want you to pull your hand off,” you explain and he nods, “Felix, I need you to bring the pot of water and those clean towels from the kitchen in here for me,” you instruct.

You look at Hyunjins sweet face, ghastly pale, and lips several shades lighter than what they ought to be. He’s clearly lost a lot of blood and you briefly think of a transfusion, but have no way of performing one - most of these men have no idea what blood type they are anyway but even if they did you don’t have the means to do it.

“Okay,” you breathe deeply once the shirt is mostly gone, the scent of iron and copper floods your nose, “One…two…three.”

Changbin pulls the balled up, blood soaked cloth from the wound and you watch as the thick, red substance trickles out while you finish off the shirt. You hear Changbin gasp and curse under his breath.

“It’s okay,” you say, “That’s a fairly good sign, see how it’s a slow trickle and not a burst or spurt? That’s a good sign,” you repeat for him, grabbing a handful of gauze to press into the wound.

Changbin nods and backs away.

“No, no,” you stop him, “Go wash your hands, put some gloves on and come back here, Felix, you do the same. Quickly.”

The two men disperse to do as they’re told and you hold the gauze in place with one hand, wetting a towel to clean off the area with the other so you can see what you’re working on better. It’s on his left side, above his hip in the small of his waist. That significantly decreases the number of organs possibly punctured. Left kidney, lung, and/or possible intestinal damage - none of which are good news, but that will make it easier to look for tell tale signs, which as of right now you don’t see.

Changbin and Felix return, gloved up and ready to assist as you work diligently to stop the bleeding by packing the wound.

“How long was the blade?” you ask as you work. You stick your fingertip into the open flesh to feel it out. This seems to perk your patient up, Hyunjin jerks up on the table, screaming in agony and cursing the room. The good news is the wound isn’t as deep as you feared.

“Hold him down!” you yell and both men scramble to steady him. “Changbin? The knife?”

“Um,” Changbin shakes his head, “Small, smooth, no more than ten centimeters I’d say.”

Hyunjin gasps and goes eerily still on the table.

“___?” Felix cries, you can hear the fear in his voice.

“It’s okay, he’s responding to pain and that’s good, but he’s going to slip in and out of consciousness because of the blood loss,” you explain but you still see the fear on Felixes face, “Why don’t you tell me what happened Felix?”

He looks at you, eyes wide with fear and you give him a shaky but reassuring smile and a nod of encouragement, “We were ambushed. It was just supposed to be a collection run, so only the three of us went. As soon as we walked into their storehouse bullets were flying. Hyunjin knocked the gun out of the guys hand and he pulled a blade out of his boot as a backup,” Felix adds, “He stabbed Hyunjin but he got in one last punch that knocked the bastard out cold,” he smiles proudly.

“Was Hyunjin significantly taller than the man?” you wonder.

“Definitely,” Changbin nods, “Why does it matter?”

“Because it appears that the man stabbed into his side at a difficult upward angle, which prevented it from going in deep. That’s good, because that means it probably bypassed any of his organs. Felix, bring my stethoscope and the blood pressure cuff please, over on the end table.”

Felix runs over and you cautiously release the gauze. To your relief the bleeding seems to have at least slowed to a manageable rate.

You stuff the stethoscope in your ears and try to ascertain some vitals now that he seems stable(ish). His heart rate is lower than normal, but his lungs sound clear. Pupils are responding to light slowly but normally, and his blood pressure is low but stable. You grab his hand and press on his fingernails, O2 seems fine.

“What now?” Felix asks.

“I’ll need you two to lift him up a bit, I’ve got the wound packed but I’ll need to wrap a bandage around his torso to keep the packing in place, then, in an hour or so, if we’re lucky the bleeding will have stopped completely and I can clean him up and stitch it,” you say shakily.

The boys do as they’re told and you carefully wrap the bandage around him, making sure the wound is secured.

A knock pounds at the door as you lay him back down on the table, the three of you exchange glances and Changbin pulls the 9mm from his strap and makes his way toward the door with Felix tiptoeing behind as backup.

“It’s me,” a voice hollers from the other side and your little trio breathes a sigh of relief. It’s Lee Minho, obviously coming to check on one of his best.

Changbin opens the door and sweeps the front yard with his eyes for good measure before closing up again.

“How is he?” Minho stands over Hyunjins still body as you discard your gloves in a nearby bin.

“He’s lost quite a lot of blood, if we were at the hospital I’d imagine they’d call for a transfusion, which is impossible here - but if I can get him stable, he might pull through the blood loss thing. The wound wasn’t as deep as I thought it would be, but it’s quite a bleeder, so right now my primary focus is to make sure it’s completely stopped before sewing him up,” you explain.

Minho nods, and you watch as he quietly assesses the situation, considering his next move. You don’t know Hyunjin as well as some of the others. You do know he’s careful, cautious and very good at his job. The fact he was nearly bested this evening has you surprised, so you can only imagine the shock of the man standing in front of you. Minho taps his finger gently against his lips, then drags his hand across his mouth in frustration.

“I want retaliation for this,” he says quietly, darkly.

“Absolutely,” Changbin nods, “The motherfucker who did this has numbered days.”

“Find him,” Minho commands, “Find everyone who was there, I don’t care if you have to go to their homes where their god damned kids sleep, you find them, I want intel on them all, and we’ll go over it together. We’ll figure out who we can use for information, and who we’re going to,” he stops himself then and looks at you gently, “Well, who won’t be of any value to us.”

You appreciate the attempt at guarded candor, but you already know he means to murder them all. Knowing Minho, and how he probably feels he’s been screwed over tonight, he’s going to kill the valuable ones too - once he knows what he needs to know.

“I’m going to go wash up,” you say softly, “He should be alright for now. I’ll check him after I’m done. If anything happens just yell.”

When you’re safely closed off in the bathroom, you take the first calm breath since the phone rang, waking you from a dreamless sleep. You stare at yourself in the mirror and realize in addition to being covered in blood, you also still wear the black silk nightgown you wore to bed. You scoff, looking down at yourself, the lace hem falls across the top of your thighs, sticking to the skin with blood, and one thin strap hangs off your shoulder. You look like a dumpster fire. Your hair is in shambles as well. You start to take it down and decide to toss the nightie in the trash when the door to your bathroom opens. Minho.

“I sent Felix and Bin off, I need them to cool down a bit, they’re pretty keyed up,” he says, playing with the bottles and boxes on your bathroom vanity. “I’ve sent for Seungmin to stay with you and Hyunjin for a while as protection, I’ll stick around until he arrives of course.”

You clear your throat, “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” he whispers. He moves to stand behind you and you stare at each other in the reflection of the mirror. He takes two fingers and caresses your arm, hooking the rogue strap of your nightie and pulling it back into place on your shoulder. His other hand roams your figure, over your breast, down your ribs and waist, and stops on your hip as he gives it a gentle squeeze - never once taking his eyes off yours in the mirror. You say nothing, you don’t move.

“You look like a scared animal,” he chuckles, using his free hand to pull your hair off your neck, exposing it. His lips move in, his breath on the delicate skin, and he looks at your reflection once more, “Hm?”

You realize he’s asking for permission and you nod. His lips land right under your ear, his fingers spreading across your throat to gently pull you into him. You don’t stop the soft breath that escapes your lips and your hand flies to cover his as he continues to rub and squeeze your hip.

You’ve almost lost yourself in him, when you open your eyes and realize he’s spreading the blood on your arm around.

“Wait,” you gasp and jump away.

“What?” he frowns, and you see the flicker of rejection flash in his dark eyes, but he decides to suppress any reaction to it.

“You’re getting blood all over you,” you point to his hand, “I really do need to wash up and check on Hyunjin. I’ll need to monitor him constantly tonight to make sure there’s no change,” you say politely.

“Are you that scared of me, Kitten?” he asks, leaning over your sink to rinse Hyunjins blood away.

“I’m not scared of you Minho,” you tell him, and it’s mostly true, kind of. “You’ve been in my bed enough times that I think you know I’m not scared of you.”

“Yet you always send me away after,” he sighs, shaking the excess water from his hands. “It makes me wonder if maybe you only let me into your bed because you think you don’t have a choice, you know, due to our arrangement,” he motions broadly at the room.

You can easily see how he’d come to that conclusion. When you accepted his offer you went very swiftly from working your ass to the bone, on no sleep, in a shoebox of an apartment, with debt up to your eyeballs straight to having everything paid off, a credit card with essentially no limit, a huge, beautiful house on the edge of the city bought and paid for, and anything your heart desired. All of it was taken care of by him. So, yes, you could see how one might think you allow him to do whatever he wants just to keep things copacetic for him.

“Do you want honesty?” you ask, reaching into the shower to adjust the water.

“From my employees? I demand it, yes,” he nods. Well, there it is, you think. He looks at you as an employee, and you also look at him as your employer. The situation is so beyond wildly fucked that you’ve truly got no idea what you’re doing or why.

“I let you into my bed because I’m lonely, and you make me feel…not alone,” you tell him. “It has nothing to do with our arrangement. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.”

“Good,” he nods, “but why are you lonely? You’re not my prisoner, you are free to come and go as you please, with the caveat of you being available when I need you, and for you to keep what you know and have seen to yourself.”

“I know that,” you allow your nightgown to fall to the floor, “What I don’t know yet is how to compartmentalize my normal life with this life, how to live them separately. How to be normal out there, and business here. So until I do, well, you don’t seem to mind my using you for human connection.”

“That’s understandable and I don’t mind at all,” he licks his lips as you slide your panties down and off your legs, “I know this was a big change for you, and I understand that what I ask of you is taxing, that what you see and hear is sometimes unfathomable.”

You cross over to him, naked, skin streaked with another persons blood, “Thank you for understanding,” you say, and kiss him, pulling him into you by his collar. His fingers slide down your stomach and slide between your slick. You whimper into his mouth as he pulls away.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them with a grin, “Wash up Kitten, but next time you don’t have one of my men bleeding on your dining room table, you’re mine.”

You wait for him to close the door before you step into the water. You watch the white floor of the shower turn into red swirls being pulled down the drain. You scrub and scrub your skin until it feels raw, wash your hair in case any blood made its way up there to dry out in the strands. You dry off, moisturize and put on comfortable clothes - a pair of old scrub pants and a tee shirt you don’t care about. You pull your wet hair tight out of your face and then pick up your ruined night dress, tossing it into the bathroom trash on your way out the door.

When you return downstairs you see Seungmin sitting in a recliner in the living room, scrolling his phone. Hyunjin continues to lay still on the dining table, and you walk over to check his vitals again, catching Seungmins attention.

“Good evening,” he nods stiffly and you give him a wry smile.

“Where did Min- Where did Mr. Lee go?” you ask him as you wrap the BP cuff around Hyunjins arm.

“He left. You don’t need to know where,” he answers you with an uninterested cadence, not looking up from his phone.

“Right,” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, “Of course.”

Hyunjins blood pressure is back to normal, albeit a tad low, but well in the realm of being acceptable. Resting heart rate has returned to the low 70’s, which is also a good sign. You finger the bandage at his side and it’s a relief to find that so far, no blood has seeped through the packing. That is indeed very good progress.

As you fix his bandage back a hand flies up, landing over yours and you jump, looking up just in time to see his eyes flutter open.

“Hey there,” you say softly, “How do you feel?”

“Like I got stabbed in a back alley,” he chuckles and lifts his head but immediately winces at the pain and collapses back onto the table with a painful sounding thud.

“Be very still,” you place your palm against his stomach softly. “You did get stabbed in a back alley and you’re far from ready to move around.”

“Changbin and Felix?” he rasps.

“They’re fine,” you answer, “They brought you here but Mr. Lee sent them home for the night, they were both very worried about you.”

“But they’re fine?” he looks at you seriously and you nod.

“Totally fine Hyunjin.”

He shakes his head, “Those motherfuckers have to be the dumbest in the entire country. We weren’t even there for any rifts, we just needed to collect the monthly gun sales. I knew when we walked in something was off, everyone felt so nervous, I should’ve turned tail and gotten Bin and Felix out as soon as I felt it.”

“She doesn’t need to know any of this, you ought to keep your mouth shut,” Seungmin calls from the living room.

Hyunjin smirks, “Why’d they send the mean, strict grandpa? I almost died, I at least deserve Jeongin or Jisung.”

You say nothing, but suppress a laugh and shrug your shoulders.

Hyunjin wiggles around feeling his pants pockets and produces a square brass cigarette case.

“Got a light Doll?” he places one between his lips and you walk to the kitchen for a lighter.

“As your primary care professional, I don’t really recommend this right now,” you say dryly, but light it for him and allow it.

“I’ve been a good patient though,” he sticks out his lower lip and you roll your eyes.

“I suppose,” you say.

“So when can I get out of here?” he asks between puffs.

You scoff, “Well. If we were in a hospital and I could send you for bloodwork and images and definitively rule out any organ damage, I could send you home a lot sooner. As it is,” you think for a moment, trying to be both medically practical but also realistic to what Minho will expect. “As it is, I need to watch you for at least three days. I’ll need to monitor your wound, obviously, but also any sign of infection like swelling or fever. If that happens it could be because the blade nicked something it shouldn’t have, like your intestines for example, or that the wound itself is trying to go septic.”

“Ew,” he grimaces.

“Exactly.”

“And will I have to bunk on this very nice, but extremely uncomfortable table during that time? Not gonna lie Doll, I’m getting pretty stiff, and not in the fun way,” he jokes.

“No,” you laugh, “Seungmin and I will help you to the guest room in a bit. First I’d like to unpack your wound, make sure the major bleeding stopped, and stitch you. Then I’ll clean you up and put a new bandage on, after that you can go to a real bed.”

“Stitches huh?” he blows out a big puff of smoke. “Is that, uh…you know, going to hurt?”

You grin, “Well, it won’t feel amazing, but it probably doesn’t hurt any worse than getting stabbed, and now we know you can handle that.”

“Right,” he chuckles.

“I’ll try and see if I have any more topical anesthetic in my supplies,” you pat his leg sympathetically.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“Fuck! It hurts…” Hyunjin grumbles, you pause your needle as he flinches and bites down hard on his bottom lip.

“I’m sorry, I’m almost done,” you tell him, going back to it, “aside from me sewing you up, how do you feel?”

“I’m fine,” he says shakily, you can see the sheen of sweat on his upper lip and forehead, see his fingers shaking between weak grips on the edge of the table.

“Cute, acting tough like that,” you click your teeth, “Now, how about you tell me the truth? I can’t treat you properly if you’re not honest about your symptoms.”

He looks down at you, despite his current state, the corners of his lips twitch into a smile.

“I feel like shit, there, you happy now?” he pouts.

From the corner of the room Seungmin sighs, “She needs you to be specific, idiot.”

“Why are you speaking?” Hyunjin snaps at him and you see Seungmin stiffen, face defiant, but you notice he sinks lower into the recliner and goes back to his phone.

“He’s right,” you say quietly, finishing up the stitches, “I need to know if anything’s hurting, burning or itching from head to toe,” you stand up and help him lie back down on the table, carefully holding his head in your hands. This brings your faces closer together, closer than you’d ever been to Hyunjin, and you can’t help but notice the sweetness of his face, the wild innocence of his dark eyes. He meets your gaze with the same intensity and you have to look away.

“So how about it?” you clear your throat, “How are you really feeling?”

“My head is pounding, I feel like I could drink ten gallons of water, my side is burning where you just sewed my guts back in, and I feel like I couldn’t lift a feather without passing out. That good enough for you sweetheart?” he half laughs, then winces.

“Yes, actually,” you quip, “The headache and weakness are both from the blood loss, I’ll get you some pain meds, and you can slowly start to drink some ice water for the dry mouth, I also want you on antibiotics, and Seungmin can help me get you to bed so you can rest.”

You gesture to Seungmin, “I went ahead and pulled the covers down, I just need you to help me get him on the bed,” you instruct.

Seungmin saunters over and Hyunjin reluctantly puts his arm around Seungmins neck, “Ouch! Fuck!” he cries and you look up from where you’re putting his feet on the floor.

“Maybe support the side he doesn’t have a stab wound on boys?” you point to Hyunjins right side.

“Right,” Seungmin grumbles.

Getting Hyunjin from the dining room just down the hall to the bedroom proves to be quite difficult, despite the trip only being maybe twenty, twenty-five steps. The journey takes every bit of his energy and when he hits the mattress with a painful sounding thud he’s out again.

“Is he going to make it?” Seungmin stands back and somehow looks both concerned and unbothered by Hyunjins pitiful state.

“Yes,” you nod, “He needs to rehydrate, and rest. When he wakes up I’ll get him some pain medication, start some antibiotics, and get some fluids in him. Will you run down to the store and get a case of some kind of sports drink? He’ll need the sodium.”

“No.”

“Pardon?” you turn to Seungmin.

“My orders aren’t to do your shopping, my orders are to stay here and protect the safe house,” he answers seriously.

“For fucks sake Seungmin,” you sigh, “loosen up. I’ll grab my keys and be right back,” you tell him, “but if he wakes up and needs something urgent you’re on your own and whatever happens will be on you.”

“Then I’ll deal with it. Just because you fuck the boss doesn’t make you the matriarch of the organization,” he says flatly.

You freeze, your mouth setting into a tight, defensive line. You fight the urge to slap him, you know that he’ll hit you back and his fist most definitely packs a bigger punch.

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Hyunjin says weakly from the bed, Seungmin nearly jumps out of his skin.

“It’s the truth,” Seungmin challenges softly.

“That’s not how you talk to someone who does so much for us, and besides I’d hate for that nasty remark to get back to Minho, you won’t be doing protection details for a while, I guarantee you that,” Hyunjin threatens.

Seungmin huffs and starts to stalk out of the room.

“You’re forgetting something,” Hyunjin says, weakly lifting a finger and pointing at you. “Apologize.”

Seungmins eyes narrow with rage, “I apologize,” he says through gritted teeth.

“It’s fine,” you sigh, knowing he doesn’t really mean it and also knowing that you don’t really give a shit if he does or not. “I’m going to get some things for Hyunjin, you boys play nice.”

You don’t give either of them the opportunity to respond, you just head for the door. You wait until you’re in the privacy of your own car, well, Minho’s car, before you cry.

Seungmins words cut deep, both embarrassing and insulting. You hadn’t really thought about anyone noticing that sometimes Minho slips away upstairs to your bedroom and because of that oversight you’d never really thought about how it would feel for others to know, and to comment on it. It feels lousy, turns out. It makes you feel cheap, and it makes you feel wrong.

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

It’s almost daylight before Hyunjin wakes again. He slept through almost every vital check, and at the most would only stir in his sleep when you put the cuff around his arm or the cold stethoscope against his chest.

“What are you reading?” his voice pulls your attention from the page and you wiggle around in your seat, joints and muscles stiff from hours of sitting.

“It’s just a silly romance novel, nothing life changing,” you tell him, setting the book down. “Here, you need to drink,” you hand him a cup of blue Gatorade, a bit watery from the melted ice.

Hyunjin attempts to sit up but winces, “Never really thought about how much I use these muscles,” his smile is twisted with pain, but you’re impressed with his positivity.

“Here,” you stand up and reach around to fluff his pillows up so he’s propped. “How does that feel?”

“God you smell good,” he says softly, his nose centimeters away from your sternum, right between your breasts.

“Thanks,” you sit back down quickly.

Hyunjin watches silently, sipping the blue beverage as you make a ruckus on the side table shaking pills out of bottles.

“What’s all that?” he asks.

“Your meds, since you’re up and lucid I want you to go ahead and take some,” you tell him, handing him two pills to take.

“Can I at least know what I’m taking?” he chuckles, rolling them around his palm.

“The smaller white one is an Oxycodone, for the pain, and the big one is Cephalexin, an antibiotic just in case,” you explain.

He tosses the Oxy back onto the table and pops the antibiotic into his mouth. Off of your stare he shrugs, “I don’t take pain killers, used to have a bad problem with pills.”

“Oh, well, it’s mainly just Acetaminophen, I think this one is 800mg and only 200mg of oxy. I think wherever your boss gets my drugs - they keep the hard stuff. I’d like you to take something, for your head and for the wound, but if you don’t want to I can’t make you obviously,” you say, standing up.

“I’m fine sweetheart,” he lays his head back down on the pillows, and puts the empty cup on the table. “I like a little pain,” he winks.

“Suit yourself,” you grab your book and start out of the room.

“Hey, where are you going?” he calls.

“Just giving you some privacy to rest,” you shrug.

“Read to me,” he gestures towards your chair.

“You’re kidding?” you snort.

“I’ve slept all night, and I’m bored,” he pouts, “Please?”

You huff and plant your ass back into the chair, deciding not to point out that he may have slept all night but you haven’t.

“You really want to sit here and listen to my silly romance?”

“Absolutely.”

You sigh and open your book to the page you dogeared a few moments ago. To be frank you can’t remember what was happening, you’d zoned out and the words weren’t exactly sticking. You scan the page to find anything familiar.

You freeze. Oh good Lord.

“Why are you blushing?” he laughs.

“I just…it’s…it’s sort of at a spicy part,” you squirm.

“Nice, lay it on me,” he grins.

“Jesus…” you shake your head and clear your throat.

“...Scooping her into my arms, I lavish kisses on her mouth and neck. We strip each other bare, our love making frenzied. I make sure she orgasms before me, holding back until her body achieves its release. Right before I come I whisper “I love you” between each breath before my mind goes blank with pleasure. As we lie across my-,”

“That’s it??” Hyunjin scoffs.

“What’s it?” you look up at him.

“That’s supposed to be spicy? That’s barely salted!” he chuckles.

“Well, I suppose it’s meant to not be super detailed, leave a bit to the imagination,” you answer.

“That’s lazy,” he shakes his head.

“Well what would you have written then?” you challenge, closing the book and crossing your legs.

“I don’t know, I’m no writer,” he falters, “but I would’ve written something about how she feels, how it feels to push into her - tight and wet and warm. What she tastes like - from her lipstick, to her skin, to her cunt.”

You shift in your seat, squeezing your thighs together.

“They could’ve at least described her noises, how playing with her in different ways makes her sound different, what her tits look like when I’m fucking her, bouncing fast or slow. I don’t know, something with a little actual spice,” he shrugs.

“Well write a book then,” you say before he can go into any more detail.

“I’m just saying, they could’ve painted a better picture, fucking is supposed to be fun, that sounded boring as hell,” he scoffs, “Who ever actually whispers “I love you” when they’re fucking?”

“I don’t know, I guess people who love each other,” you grumble.

“Yeah? Is that what Boss man says to you?” he teases. It’s not the same menacing tone that Seungmin had taken with you concerning Minho, and you can tell by the lightness of Hyunjins eyes he doesn’t mean anything by it, but God, these men. They all need to be lined up and slapped across the face. You’re sick of it. Sick of the power struggle. In every situation, in every conversation they have to feel like they’re holding the power. You let Seungmins comments roll off your back and ignored them like a coward earlier, but Hyunjin will likely be here a few days and you need to establish that you won’t back down again, you can fight fire with fire.

So you straighten up and look him dead in the eyes, “No. When Minho fucks me he pulls my hair and slaps my ass and calls me his gorgeous little slut while his cum drips out of my mouth.”

Hyunjins mouth turns into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen and his eyes go wide as he points to you, “Now that is a goddamn page turner.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes as you stand up and straighten yourself out, “Okay, storytime is over, I’m going to get a little sleep. Try to rest. I’ll make you some breakfast in a bit.”

“Okay,” he nods and settles back into the mattress, as you go to switch the lights he looks at you, his head cocking to the side a bit, “Do you like that though? The rough and ragged and dirty stuff?”

You shrug, “Sometimes, I guess. Sometimes though…I don’t know… I think I’d like someone to whisper how much they love me, it sounds nice.”

He nods, then looks back up at you, “I’m sorry, I won’t comment on you and Lee anymore.”

“See you later Hyunjin.”

Too tired to even attempt walking up the stairs you drag yourself over to the sofa and collapse.

Seungmin sits in his recliner nearby and blinks at you.

You point to the blanket folded over the back of his chair, “Will you hand-,”

He balls up the blanket and throws it, pegging your face with a smirk. You shoot him a death glare before covering yourself up and sinking into the cushions. You try not to think about his earlier comments regarding Minho. You try not to think about Minho. You especially try not to think about dirty talk with Hyunjin, or how it stirred something within you that you absolutely must not allow to grow.

Endnotes:

1. Tentatively tagging my Minho lovers - @katieraven @linocz @screamobubbles @simpforleeknaur @moni-logues - because Minho will be centric to the story. However, if you do not want to be tagged for any reason just DM me and I’ll remove you, no worries at all 💙🥰 Alternatively, if you’re seeing this and want to be added to the tag list just let me know somehow!

2. As usual, here’s your virtual smooch for making it this far. Mafia is soooo far out of my wheelhouse and honestly even though this chapter is super unbeta’d - I may have future chapters looked at bc I’m not really sure I’m hitting the mark. Any feedback on it would be swell, just be gentle with me 😂👍

#skz fanfiction #Lee Minho fanfiction #Hyunjin fanfiction #skz smut #lee minho smut #hyunjin smut #skz romance #hyunjin romance #lee know romance #Lee Minho #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #minho x reader #stray kids

203 notes · View notes

fear-is-truth · 1 month ago

Note

Hiiii! Hope you’re having a good day/night. If it’s no trouble and fine by you, I was wondering if you could do headcanons with the Evans characters, with how they would react to a reader who is quiet during sex? Like, only lets out little sounds. If you do it, could you add Kai and James March to it please? Thank you

𝜗ϱ ┆ 𝒷𝑒𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝑒𝓉 𝒹𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑒𝓍 .ᐟ

── THE EVANs ‧ h e a d c a n o n s ೃ࿐

ft. tate ‧ kit ‧ kyle ‧ james ‧ kai

⟣ TAGS ‧ NSFW | f! reader

a/n: it’s been a hot minute since i’ve done these lol

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

having watched a lot of porn, tate has a misconception that loud sounds during intimacy equate to enjoyment. at first, he might feel confused when you remain mostly quiet, only letting out small, soft noises. he’d think, am i not making her feel good enough?

he’s already kinda insecure, so your quietness would stir some of that self-doubt. he’d start overthinking, wondering if he’s doing something wrong or if you’re not as into it as he is.

tate would try to get some reassurance from you without outright asking. he’d study your face intensely, looking for any signs of pleasure in your expressions, lyour subtle reactions would become his new fixation, even if you’re not loud.

as someone who craves reassurance, he’d encourage you to express yourself a little more, not because he needs it but because he wants you to feel free. leaning in and whisper, “it’s okay, you don’t have to hold back,” hoping that you’ll feel comfortable showing whatever you feel, whether it’s loud or quiet.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

he’s the kind of partner who is incredibly empathetic and sensitive to your needs. if you were quiet during sex, he’d notice right away, but he wouldn’t take it personally. instead, he’d gently ask if you’re okay, and wouldn’t push you for more noise or reactions.

kit understands trauma and emotional sensitivity, given his own experiences. he’d quietly interpret your demure behaviour as a sign of your comfort level and wouldn’t press for you to be anything other than yourself. if being quiet is what feels natural to you, then that’s what he’d want, too.

if you ever felt self-conscious or embarrassed about not being loud, he’d be the first to comfort you. “you don’t have to be anyone but yourself with me,”

he would find your small, kittenish noises adorable. not the type to expect or want a loud, dramatic reaction—Kit would much prefer the intimacy that comes with the small sounds you make. to him, it’s a sign that you trust him and feel safe, which would mean the world to him.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

Kyle simply adores the way you express yourself during sex. he’d find it sweet and would often smile involuntarily, drinking in the sight with warm, affectionate eyes. the small, delicate sounds you make would melt his heart, and he’d likely respond with even more tenderness, holding you close and kissing you softly.

he would take your moments of silence as an opportunity to show you how much he loves and cherishes you. he’d press gentle kisses to your forehead, cheeks, and neck, whispering words of affection like, “i love you,” or “you’re doing so good, baby.”

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

he wouldn’t mind your quietness during sex. in fact, he’d find it charming and entirely fitting with his idea of grace. your soft, kittenish noises would appeal to his aesthetic sense of control and decorum.

plus he’s kinda used to the sound of his victims screaming and it gets old real quick.

james is highly observant, and he’d become acutely attuned to the smallest reactions you have—the way you arch your back or take a slightly deeper breath.

he’d absolutely adore giving you endearing nicknames like “little dove” or “sweetness”.

although completely content with your quietness, james might occasionally coax a little more out of you, but only in the gentlest way. he wouldn’t outright demand loudness or force you to change. instead, he’d whisper, “let me hear you, darling,” in a velvety, reverent tone, and would savour any small response you give him. (simp)

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

kai would definitely feel annoyed and offended by your quietness. given his sexist views and past immersion in r/redpill, he would have absorbed the idea that women should be loud to show their enjoyment. he’d start wondering if he’s not living up to his own inflated sense of masculinity and skill, thinking, why isn’t she screaming?

he’d resort to filling the silence himself. i also feel like kai is the kind of person who can’t stand quiet because it makes him feel like he’s losing control. so, he’d start talking—maybe even about completely unrelated things. casually bring up political strategies, his plans for his cult, or how he’s going to destroy his competitors in the election.

he’s not great at handling rejection, real or perceived. he’d sulk or act petty if he doesn’t get the reaction he’s aiming for.

being the manipulative bitch he is, kai would throw in some backhanded compliments to make you feel like the quietness is your fault. “you’re just so quiet, like a good little girl,”

he is addicted to control and power. so, your quietness would feel like something to conquer. he’d take it personally and think it’s his job to make you scream if it’s the last thing he does.

#american horror story #ahs #kai anderson #evan peters #tate langdon #kai anderson x reader #ahs cult #kai anderson x y/n #james patrick march #kit walker #tate langdon x reader #jpm x reader #kit walker x reader #tate langdon x y/n #kyle spencer #kit walker x y/n #ahs murder house #kyle spencer x reader

250 notes · View notes

melodic-haze · 4 months ago

Note

sub yae miko.. x dom raiden ei.. x afab!reader muahahah (can i be 🐆anon please haze👉👈👉👈)

FUCK HI

I'm pushing my needy Miko agenda bc let's face it she NEEEEDS to be pampered. Left alone constantly for SO LONG??? Yeah no she needs some TLC IMMEDIATELY❗️❗️❗️

Well. It doesn't actually have to be TLC, considering how she's basically DARING the two of you to go fast and hard, to fuck her relentlessly to the point where she can't handle any more. And really, you can!!! Especially Ei, considering just how powerful this woman is

The union between the three of you is as if past, present and future entertwined—you are a tangle of limbs and a mix of love and lust and longing and every carnal emotion that only you three could ever experience with such intensity together. Miko in between the two of you, drooling and moaning like a cheap whore rather than a shrine priestess as blasphemy escapes her lips and worships someone like you....but in the same breath she's still praying, worshipping the Archon in front of her, so surely she's still in 🤷‍♀️

I had a crisis about Ei's genitals once upon a time and now I think she can just. Swap them out 😭. But like listen imagine. Ei manhandling Miko, her nails digging into her curvy hips as she plows into the fox envoy relentlessly, stimulating currents of electro travelling into the pink-haired woman with such control and precision that only the Electro Archon could ever achieve

You could feel the remnants of the shocks that Miko's receiving as well from her tongue inside you—its length elongated due to the power inherited by her species—as she eats you out with a certain thirst for you that one cannot quench so easily. You're sat on her face, pussy displayed for her to eat and she eats you GOOD as you grope her chest and tease and twist her nipples. And when she stops moving your mouth as Ei hits her insides in a particular way or the electricity coursing within her shocks her still, just give her tits a slap and grind your cunt into her mouth and she'll be reminded that you need tending-to too

And the best part about it all? Both you and Ei are singing Miko praises; she's taking the both of you at once and she's doing it so well, your little kit is so very pretty underneath the both of you, looking all ruined and debauched with lipstick smeared on her lips and marks covering every inch of her soft skin. And it all gets to her head to the point where her hips buck up and she cums, clear liquid squirting out of her pussy and covering Ei's body

Doesn't mean you'll be stopping there though—neither you or Ei have stopped, and the way Miko's still eating you out as she rocked her hips showed that it was FAR from over :3

I'm so cold and I'm horny as hell my bad if none of this was coherent LOL

183 notes · View notes

buckys-little-belle · 5 months ago

Note

can u do the marauders with a little who has a stuffy and it got ripped? my bunny got ripped a few days ago and im really sad about it!

Broken Bunny

Marauders (Sirius, Remus, James) x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Talks about an injured stuffed animal, use of needle and thread to sew, use of 'Daddy' 'Papa' and 'Bubby', lots of tears, lots of fluff, the boys being sweet caretakers to both their bunny and their bunny's bunny

Notes - This is short ... No one's surprised lol.

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

"Daddy." Y/n whispered to Sirius, trying to to disrupt Remus and James' study session across the room.

"Yes, Bunny." Sirius smiled, running a hand over Y/n's head, noticing the tears falling down their cheeks. "What's wrong, My love?" He began to look them over for any injuries, though he doubted that was the case as Y/n had been napping for the past hour.

"I woke up an' bunny is ripped." They sobbed quietly. Their back was facing the two other boys, but they noticed the shake of their shoulders and the worried look plastered on Sirius' face. "I don' know what t' do." They pouted, holding their bunny with gentle hands, careful to not touch the loose stitches on it's leg.

"It's a good thing Papa knows how to sew, huh?" Sirius answered, a soft smile sent Y/n's way, hoping it would help calm them down.

Y/n turned to see both Remus and James already clearing the desk, a small sewing kit placed on the table, and a blanket folded in the center. "I din' mean to bother you." Y/n cried harder, watching as the boys got things all set up.

"You didn't bother us, Bunny." James wrapped Y/n up in a hug, his hands rubbing soothing circles on their back. "What are Bubbies for if not emergency Bunny surgery?" He smiled, taking the bunny from Y/n's hand and placing it on the blanket covered table. "I'll be assisting our doctor, Mr Papa today." He said in a silly voice, making Y/n giggle through their tears.

"Please take a seat, Miss Bunny." Remus said, pulling out the desk chair for them.

The surgery was quick and easy, Remus leaned over Y/n as he carefully stitched the leg's seam back together. The cream coloured thread blending in with the Bunny's fur perfectly. With a finishing knot and a kiss to the healed boo boo, Bunny was handed back.

"Thank you Papa." Y/n smiled, tears now dried, a soft smile plastered on their face as they snuggled their stuffed animal.

"Let's remember to finish our manners." Remus said, giving Y/n a soft but firm look.

"Thank you Daddy, and thank you Bubby." They raced to give both boys a big hug, finally settling into Remus' side as he sat on his bed.

"I think it's time for bed, hm?" Sirius smiled, turning off some lights and getting dressed for bed.

"I'm not sleepy." Y/n yawned, the energy they used up worrying over their bunny clearly coming to bite them in the back. "Maybe jus' a little." They smiled, their cheeks heating up in embarrassment.

#buckys little belle #anon #age regression #age regression fic #little!reader #marauders x little!reader #marauders x reader #james potter x little!reader #james x little!reader #james x little reader #sirius x little reader #sirius x little!reader #sirius black x little!reader #remus x little reader #remus lupin x little!reader #remus x little!reader #remus lupin x little reader

184 notes · View notes

e-likes-bones · 3 months ago

Text

so a couple months ago now i think? i decided on a whim to make a puppet since i figured i had enough supplies lying around to do it, which resulted in me being struck to make arguably one of the best members* of the rock-afire explosion into a marionette: looney bird!

(excuse the goofy looking puppetry, i don’t actually have any experience w/ marionettes. whoops!)

anyhow i know a couple people that have seen puppet looney were curious how i made him, so under the cut i’ll have my rambles about that!

making looney bird was super fun! so expect this section to be long because i do wanna explain everything as much as i can. i will divid this up into sections, which shall be:

body, head, & neck

face & plant/leaves

tail & wings

legs & feet

strings & control

anyhow! let me get to explaining lol

Section 1: body, head, & neck

this is where i began! i made a base for the head & body out of crayola air dry clay so i had base shapes to put the fur on top & so the puppet would have a decent little bit of weight to it. the head was just a small ball, while the body was larger & slightly more oblong. while the base & the other sculpted parts were drying, i had to color the fur i was going to use.

i only had white faux fur (2 different kinds, a soft, sort pile, & a less soft, longer pile; what i use for most of looney is the short pile) going into this project, & since this fella was made exclusively from craft materials i had lying around, i needed to find a way to color it. I attempted dying some of the fur w/ some old t-shirt dyes i had lying around, but when that didn't work i turned to my old alcohol markers to see if they worked, & they surprisingly did! really well too! (altho there are some areas that i struggled to get ink into, but overall the color isn't too too patchy)

once i had the dry clay & fur, i got to covering the bases w/ the fur! which. i did primarily by super glueing small sections of each piece of fur down, maneuvering the fabric to lay flush w/ the base & making sure to maintain the same direction of the fur, & repeating until the fur was completely attached.

the neck was simpler, i took some more of the red colored fur, folded it over into a flat tube shape, & glued either end to the head & body (still paying attention to the fur direction!) then i took some of the remaining uncolored (white) fur & made the ring of white around the base of looney's neck!

Section 2: face & plant/leaves

imo, this was the section i had the most fun w/ lol! i actually sculpted the face after making the head & body's clay bases so that they had extra time to dry. i made the entire face as a "faceplate" for easy attachment at the size i needed, plus sculpting the face as one thing allowed me to have the 3 extra bits i needed to attach looney's face feathers the best later on in the process. the face is also made of crayola air dry clay btw.

after the face was dry it was painting time! i just used some old art kit acrylic paints for all the base colors, & the eyes were possible using a nail art dotting tool. i went over looney's cheeks w/ chalk pastel dust to get the blush effect, then sealed everything in using mod podge.

now he needed his face feathers! remember how i had 2 different faux furs? well here's where the longer pile one gets used! i cut really small sections of the longer fur & trimmed them down to be just 3 little fuzzy bits essentially, then using another alcohol marker, i colored them green & glued them to the green side sections on looney's faceplate. from here, i attached looney's face to his head, then cut & pasted the surrounding small white feather sections on either side of his face & below his beak. it was after that i made the purple feathers, as those are just colored paper clippings that i glued to the back of looney's faceplate that didn't attach to his head. (picture of what i mean below)

anyhow! onto the plant on looney's head! the stem of the plant was just a jewelry wire that i twisted to make a bit thicker, then dipped in green paint to color it & smooth the twist out, then sealed w/ mod podge, & finally glues to the top of looney's head. the leaves, much like the purple feathers, are paper, but cut into leaf shapes & colored to roughly mimic looney's leaves, then they were very carefully super glued to the stem

Section 3: tail & wings

these bits were pretty simple imo, the tail is made of embroidery floss i cut & sectioned to create looney’s tail pattern, then i tied it together to create a base i could easily attach to his body. i also tried brushing it to make the individual threads smaller since i preferred the look & thought it made it look more like feathers? but either way, from there it got glued on & i moved on to the wings.

the wings are again the short pile fur i used on the body, but they were left white when i cut them, so once i got the wing shape formed i could color the sections that needed to be red & just leave the wingtips white how i wanted. the wings were 4 panels cut into a roughly triangular shape & glued together to create 2 wings

Section 4: legs & feet

the legs & feet were also relatively simple but i have never been the best at sculpting feet so i suffered just a tad. anyhow the feet are also sculpted from crayola air dry clay like other pieces, then painted & sealed the same as the faceplate.

the legs are pony beads & more embroidery floss. i used the beads to make the legs as full & patterned as i wanted & the string to make sure the legs are loose & easy to maneuver. 2 beads were glued to looney’s body & 2 to his feet, & the string was looped thru the body beads, down through the leg beads, & tied & secured to the feet beads

Section 5: strings & controls

finally! the last section!

the string is just some clear beading string. there are 4 strings, which were tied & glued to both foot beads, the base of the tail, & the base of the plant. i eyeballed the needed length for each string to keep the puppet at an upright position when held up regularly & cut them to size.

the control is just a pair of chopsticks i cut to the rough size of the puppet & glued the ends of the strings to: the head & back end strings to either side of one stick, & both feet strings to either end of the other stick.

& that was pretty much everything i had to do to make looney!! it took like. 2 days? i was very dedicated to finishing him in just a weekend. thank you to anyone who read all my extended rambles about how i made this guy!!! i appreciate it!! also please excuse any typos, i never make typos ever idk what y’all are talking about

#i love looney bird!!!#can yall tell? idk if you can #anyhow i did also make a barrel for him but uh. 10 image limit #ill put it in the reblogs as a treat #thank you to everyone who hyped this fella up i am really proud of him ngl #now to just see if i can ever make other band members. maybe #or at least make a billy bob cosplay bc i wanna do that too #also if anyone has any ideas of what i could do w looney going forward? id like to puppet him to songs or something but idk what #or if anyone would wanna see that #ok ill shut up for now!#the rock afire explosion #rock afire explosion #rockafire explosion #rockafire #showbiz pizza #looney bird #marionette puppet #puppetry #:0 my art

129 notes · View notes