AHH THANKS FOR THE TAG
AHH THANKS FOR THE TAG <3
I’m currently working on another chapter of “dead on a arrival” and this one-shot of my hero band au. Basically, reader sleeps with lead singer Kaminari, he’s an asshole and then we get hurt/comfort with Bakugou 😋
I’m tagging @dollfacedbunny ! Don’t have lots of moots lolol
Work-In-Progress Whenever
Tagged by - @imfineanddandy
Thank you for the tag!!!!
I don’t really have any writing wips at the moment 😔 but!! here’s an art wip Ive had for weeks now lol i still have a lot of motivation to work on it but unfortunately assignments are taking up a bit too much of my time (basically the whole day and my sleep at this point )
Tagging: @mirakeul @kaitycole @like-a-school-gymnasium @tofuthoma (no pressure btw!!)
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More Posts from Imsofthelp
i’m a sucker for this troupe ngl
haikyuu!! characters when there’s only one bed
ft. oiks, iwa, suna, tsumu, + kita! just fluff hehe, atsumu’s is a little suggestive? anw enjoy!
OIKAWA: you consider yourself lucky that oikawa falls asleep quickly, but when you hear him yawn and roll over behind you, you almost panic and worry that your increasingly erratic heartbeat is what woke him up— then all he says is a muffled, “‘m cold,” lilted with the slight rasp of sleep lingering in his voice. you’re not sure what he expects you to do to fix this until you feel a warm weight sling around your waist. he pulls you closer so that your back is flush against his firm chest; “that’s better,” he breathes, sending a shiver down your spine as his breath fans over your neck. the fact that you allow him so close makes him think in his sleep-logged state that maybe, just maybe, you return his affections.
IWAIZUMI: he lies awake deep into the night while your chest rises and falls irregularly next to him. he’s about to ask you what’s wrong when you whisper a feeble, “iwa?” out of the darkness. he sits up straight— when did you started calling him that? he thanks the universe that you can’t see the flush on his cheeks just from the nickname before leaning closer to whisper back, “yeah? what’s up?” you hesitate for a moment before speaking up; “i had a nightmare… sorry if i woke you up,” you admit sheepishly, but iwaizumi’s just grateful you confided in him. “oh,” he says, surprised, “no, no, uh… don’t worry about it. is there anything i can do?” you wring your hands together underneath the blankets, considering backing down right now, but you don’t. “can you hold me?” you ask, timid. your voice shakes painfully, and there’s a dead silence that feels much too long, making you want to curl up and hide under the sheets. you’re just about to do exactly that when iwaizumi opens his arms and nods reassuringly; “‘course,” he tells you once he finds his voice, “i won’t let anything hurt you, just c’mere.”
SUNA: mf conks out the instant his head hits the pillow, and you’re so tired you’re nearly about to do the same; that is, until you feel two arms wrap around you from behind. the sound of suna’s soft snoring hasn’t stopped, so you know this isn’t something he’s aware of doing. nevertheless, the intimate position gets your heartbeat going as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder and keeps it there all night. you two will definitely have a lot of explaining to do (and teasing to endure) when the twins come barreling through your door in the morning to wake you for breakfast and spread the news to the rest of the team. suna doesn’t care, though– not when it’s you, and not when he just got the best sleep he’s had in a long time.
ATSUMU: as soon as you two climb into bed, he’s wiggling his eyebrows and giggling like a maniac. you try to ignore him, but it’s hopeless; eventually, you let out a sigh, rolling over to face him and forcing out a curt, “what do you want, ‘tsumu?” he just giggles again and you bite back another outburst. “i think this is the part where i get to cuddle you, right?” he teases and flashes you a shit-eating grin, “or is that too embarrassing for you to do with your crush?” your jaw drops and you look like a fish out of water trying to speak. “i– you’re– you’re not my crush, you idiot!” you sputter (unconvincingly), hitting his shoulder offhandedly. he just raises an eyebrow— “oh, yeah?” he taunts, voice suddenly dropping several pitches. his arm wraps around you and suddenly your bodies are pressed together, both of your cheeks heating up as your wide eyes meet his. “how about now?” he murmurs into your ear, lips brushing against your skin, but he doesn’t even need to ask; you both already know the answer.
KITA: kita, unable to sleep for some ‘unknown’ reason, is up late watching an upcoming opponent’s old games while you sleep soundly beside him. he focuses on the recording as best he can when a quiet thump! and a sudden weight on his shoulder break his concentration. kita turns to see your head resting on his shoulder, and a soft, involuntary smile forms on his face; “you must be tired, huh?” he says quietly and closes his laptop. he allows himself a moment to take in the view, but reluctantly looks away when it’s been too long to be normal; “get some rest,” he tells you as if you’re able to listen. the fact that you’re not awake to remember what happens next gives him enough courage to pull the covers over you both and press a gentle kiss to your forehead, promising to be there in the morning when you wake up.

Word count: 3.2k
Caregory: angst, smut
Warnings: depression, depressed reader, toxic relationships, someone needed to be an asshole in this so Tsukki is, kind of toxic Akaashi too, smoking, choking, cigarette burns.
Summary: Akaashi is always there to put you back together, granting your every wish. Even when you leave him without any message and disappear for two months. You could say that he has a soft spot for you

City of stars, are you shining just for him tonight? That’s what Akaashi is wondering. The stars are surprisingly bright tonight, as if knowing that now is when he needs their comfort the most.
Akaashi is mindlessly watching some stupid, mind-numbing late night program on his tv, trying to forget about the manga he has to finish editing until next week and… Other things.
The half-smoked mint cigarette hangs from his lips as the man lets out a sigh. He’s not anxious. Therapy and maturing has helped him calm his overthinking and anxieties a bit. He’s good at his job; he’ll manage to meet the deadline. However, other things cloud his mind and he’s not as good with that as he is at his job.
Akaashi’s phone, which was carelessly left somewhere in the kitchen, rings. He inhales the final breath of minty smoke and puts out the cigarette on the heart-shaped ashtray you had gifted him a long time ago. Akaashi finally stood up, lazily strolling to the kitchen, the light of his phone lighting up the big room in dim blue light. He picks it up and swipes "accept" without looking at the contact name. Probably Bokuto, wanting to hangout soon. Or maybe his boss, reminding about his deadline, or…
Keiji freezes on the spot when he hears your voice. It’s so quiet and weak that he thinks one breath from him will take it all away and he’ll wake up from a dream.
"’Kaashi… Keiji… Keiji, It’s bad again," you whisper and his heart breaks in real time; the pieces left from the last time you broke it, shattering into even smaller ones. Two months without seeing you. Two months without hearing from you. Two months without smelling your perfume, without touching your skin and hearing your voice. Your laugh… Well, he hasn’t heard that eternal sound for even longer. Two months, eight weeks, fifty six days, one thousand three hundred forty four hours since you had left him for another man.
Tsukishima Kei swept you away alongside Akaashi’s will to do anything but work until he almost passed out. You ghosted everyone from your life, it wasn’t only Akaashi. Last thing anyone heard about you — your friend Dina told Bokuto that you moved in with a "tall, blonde man". And now there you were again. Alive and calling him. Asking him to make everything better like he always used to. To come and take the pain away, even just for a minute. It hurt to breathe but just hearing your voice made the shards left of his heart pull closer together. Some selfish part of him wanted to hang up. To tell you to go find Tsukishima and fuck off. His rational part was horrified, that thoughts like that would cross his mind. He didn’t particularly dislike Tsukishima during high school days, damn, even liked the guy, but he couldn’t forgive him for doing this. For sweeping you away from him.
"You at your old place?" Keiji manages to ask.
"Y-yeah," there’s a sniffle and something clutters to the floor. Fuck, thag can’t be good.
"Okay, darling, okay. I’ll be at your place real soon, yeah? Unlock the door for me, ‘kay?
He doesn’t wait for your answer. He’s slipping his shoes on, grabbing his long, black coat and dashing out the door. His body remembers the routine way more than he thought it would. Maybe all those moments Akaashi rushed to you after a single phone call asking him to come, did that to a person.
He didn’t have the time to think that through. He was in his car, speeding through the busy streets of the city just to get to you. The hope of seeing your face again numbed most of the pain —the loss of you caused.
He’s at your door in what seems like a minute. The door is already unlocked so he just walks in. The smell of your home fills his senses and it’s as if his head clears. Oh, how he missed this. His coat is now hung up, shoes put away and he’s stepping in the tiny living room. There’s a lump of colorful blankets and you’re somewhere underneath. A step away. Real and alive. Real, alive and breathing — wanting him to put you back together. To make you feel better, to make you feel like you’re alive once again.
“Y/N, darling, I’m here,” the words come out in the softest voice he can manage and your head lifts up. Your hair’s a mess, eyes empty and dull. He can’t stand to see you like this, pain searing through his whole body. Some fucked up part of him is glad to see how much you need him though.
“Keiji, need you,” you whimper, “Want you to fuck the sadness out of me.”
It’s how it always went. Like a dance you both knew the steps to, perfectly well — he comes over, you guys fuck, he bruises you up a bit since you always beg him so prettily and then he’s there to pick up the pieces — listen to your ranting, asking you if you’ve been keeping up with drinking your meds and making sure you have something to eat.
He’s always there. And he would always be, no matter how much it hurt him to.
He takes a careful step towards you, lifting you up from your fluffy hiding place. You’re in his lap not even a moment later, head too heavy to hold, buried in his neck. You give it a little peck and his whole body burns. It’s like he’s some junkie going through withdrawal and your touch is the drug he so desperately craves. He’s turning his face towards your’s, slightly chapped lips kissing away at every millimeter of skin he can reach. It’s messy, it’s passionate and Akaashi doesn’t even notice the tears freely flowing down his face. A shuddering breath leaves his lips. Oh, how much he needed this.
“Keiji, need you, please,” you sigh in between kisses, one hand pawing at his pant-clad crotch. You have trouble keeping yourself up, but the need to be fucked until your brain is unable to make coherent thoughts makes the task easier.
“Yeah, yeah, need you too, pretty girl. Need to touch you,” he moans when he takes off your huge hoodie and sees that you’re not wearing anything underneath, nipples perking up at the temperature of the room. Akaashi’s hand, the one not holding onto you, paws at your breasts, squeezing until you gasp. Is it fucked up that he wants to cause you pain? You asked for it everytime you asked Akaashi to fuck you, but now he craved that himself. He craved the teary look in your eyes, the way you hit his chest when it got a little too much.
After letting himself indulge for a few moments, he lays you down on the couch, climbing on top of you, gently helping you get out of your sleep shorts and simple black panties. Cute, real cute. Akaashi missed you so much he couldn’t put it into words.
“Spread your legs for me, pretty girl,” he murmured, your legs instantly parting. Good, you haven’t forgot how you’re supposed to act. Your hands almost naturally find their place on Akaashi’s shoulders and his fingers are reaching for your pussy almost instantly. One finger circling the clit, the other easing into your hole. Tight, still so fucking tight. Akaashi groaned.
Tsukishima couldn’t fuck you as well as he could, right?
Keiji didn’t let himself overthink it. This moment was about you two; there was no space for the ‘third one’.
His second finger bullies it’s way alongside the first one and a third one joins next. It takes a while to find the spongy spot he used to be so familiar with. It doesn’t take long before you’re coming undone, pushing away at his clothed, hard chest from the overstimulation of Akaashi helping you ride out your orgasm.He’s smiling. That self-satisfied grin you know so well.
“Please, take off your clothes, Keiji, it’s uncomfortable,” you squirm under his gunmetal gaze and he obeys.
A single raise of your hand and he’s doing everything you ask for. It was always this way. His clothes are discarded on the dirty floor, littered with bottles of water and empty chips packets. He’s back to his position, careful not to let any of his weight fall on you. You admire him. Those big, doe-like yet still dull like before, taking in every detail of his body; from his lean physique, to his shoulder-length wavy raven hair and lithe fingers, still soiled with your clear juices. Your cheeks burn at the sight.
Akaashi’s fingers come near your mouth and you obediently part your lips, eager to take what he provides. He knows better, after all. He knows how to fix you. You clean off his slender fingers and Akaashi can’t help it - cloud-grey eyes narrowing as he pushes his digits deeper, digging until you’re gagging and only letting up when tears light up your beautiful eyes. When he finally pulls them out, he absentmindedly wipes them off on your skin. You shiver at the warm sensation and close your eyes.
Keiji pulls out his dick and it’s as pretty as he is, not too long, nor too thick, but still a lot to take; beautiful, flushed tip already leaking precum when the black-haired man gives it a few strokes. Your mouth parts to let out long breaths.
“Everything okay, sweetheart?” he asks, voice calm and collected, the complete opposite of you right now.
“Yeah, just haven’t- haven’t been with you for so long,” you shiver. Akaashi can’t help but seethe, remembering that you were with another man. Two whole damn months.
He lines up his cock with your hole and just slams it in with one smooth motion. Everything is white for a moment, you’re unable to see from the pleasure-filled pain. His cock slammed into your cervix, but he’s nice enough to let you get used to his length. You keen, not sure what you want Akaashi to do right now when the veins adorning his dick create mind-numbing friction. One of Keiji’s hands ghosts your neck, gently squeezing it and his gaze softens when you lean into his touch, craving to be hurt.
“I’m gonna move, sweet girl,” he warns you, but doesn’t give you time to think of an answer — Keiji is slamming into your tiny pussy, letting his head lean back. He’s blissed by the pleasure, fucking his fist for two months just wasn’t the same. Not even close. Pretty moans leave Keiji’s perfect lips, no matter how much he tries to suppress them. You’re just laying there, taking it, eyes cloudy and half-lidded. Mind probably already numb. Silly little thing.
“Keiji… Keiji, love,” the pet name rings in his head, the huge hand still wrapped around your willing neck squeezes. Hard. The silver ring wrapped around one of his fingers digs into your soft skin. You’re killing him. Giving him just enough to let the hurtful memories flow. It doesn’t seem to bother you.
Face content and calm, “Can you, can you burn me, please?”
You’re as sweet as ever. As if nothing ever happened. As if he’s responsible for making you feel better. Fuck. He knows he is.
“Yeah? You want me to burn you? My girl is a little fucking masochist?” it’s easy to slip into his degrading persona. Akaashi knows how much you love that. You don’t crave praise. Don’t want to be called pretty, don’t want nice things. You want temporary pain, to forget the real one that might never really go away.
You dumbly nod at Akaashi’s words, mind not putting two and two together, his cock still pounding away at your pussy, uncaring of your own pleasure. Keiji pulls out and you whine, hands automatically reaching for him, as if he would ever leave, now that he got you back.
The tall man finds a pack of mint cigarettes, left in the pocket of his black jeans. There’s a tiny daisy embroidery on the pocket done by you a long time ago. When you still had the energy to do anything. When he didn’t have to beg you to live another damn day.
Cigarette finds its way to the man’s lips and he quickly lights it up. You sigh happily, when Keiji slides his cock back into you, finally letting his fingers massage your clit. You let out a shuddered moan, pleasure burning all thoughts away.
“Ah, you’re so good to me, Keiji. So good, ah,” and with a particularly harsh thrust, the pleasure building in your lower belly snaps and you’re coming, creaming around his lengthy cock and as white hot pain surges through your whole body. Akaashi presses the hot end of the cigarette between your perfect tits. You scream, in pain and in pleasure, mumbles of “please” and garbles of his name praying for something. Something to take the pain away? Something to hurt you more?
Akaashi gives into his temptations, taking a long drag of the smoke, marking up your tits a few more times, letting you grab his shoulders and pull him close, crying away at his firm chest.
“Thank you- ah! Thank you so much, Keiji,” you breathe out and that’s all it takes for him to finish.
Your whole body turns warm as your inner walls are painted white. You’re so full. And so obedient to him. What a good girl you still are. It’s as if nothing has changed. You’re Akaashi’s again and everything falls back into place. Everything is where it’s supposed to be. You’re - in Akaashi’s arms, and Tsukishima somewhere damn far away.
You lay like this for a while - Keiji’s body on top of yours, everything sweaty and sticky, still keeping his body weight from crashing down on your tired body. He dresses up and makes you take a bath then; washing your hair for you, using a comforting vanilla smell body wash to clean your limp body next.
He can’t help but admire the marks he’s left. It’s a sign that you’re his. And he is yours. Eternally, forever. And no one can change that. No one knows how to help you, like he does.
Keiji dresses you in comfortable clothes and helps you get onto the bed after changing the sheets before laying you down. Tch, he bet that Tsukishima let you lay in messy sheets, never once changing them. Akaashi scolds himself. So much for not overthinking, so much for maturing. He was as insecure as he was in his teenage years, just learned to mask it better.
You pull Akaashi towards you, stopping his thoughts. He complies, undressing until he’s in his shirt and boxers, laying down beside you and pulling you close to himself, holding your body tight.
“I want to talk to you,” you mumble, still turned away from him with your back to his chest.
“I’m listening, baby.”
"You wanted me to feel better and I… Didn’t particularly want to get better. I guess- I guess the sadness, rash mania-driven decisions and my dependency on others has become such a big part of me that I thought…I thought that I would be empty without it."
"You wouldn’t." he interrupts your rant, pulling your shaking hands into his, gently rubbing your knuckles in an attempt to calm you down a bit.
You lift up your face to catch his eyes. Akaashi is already looking, "What?"
"You wouldn’t be empty, Y/N. The girl I met at high school… You were happy back then. You were cheerful, a bit loud and could make anyone like you. And even if you," he gently turns you towards him and caresses your face when you want to look away in shame, "think that you’re beyond fixing, or empty without your illness, you’re just wrong. I still see those traits in you. How you’re still you in the way you cheer up your friends. How you’re still you when even the delivery drivers seem to instantly like you and how you’re still you in understanding that it’s not bad to ask for help when you need it."
You don’t answer him. Somewhere deep in your mind, you know Akaashi is right. You know that he isn’t just trying to fix you to his liking, you know he doesn’t want you for the sex, despite how many times Tsukishima made you believe that. You bury your face in Akaashi’s neck and let his warmth embrace your limp and tired body.
"He told me that you wanted to make me into the version of myself that you wanted," you confess, quietly murmuring the words against the skin of his neck and Akaashi’s hands embrace you tighter. He can’t get mad now, but damn is it hard to keep his composure, "Keiji, he told me that you only wanted to fuck me ‘cause girls like me were compliant and easy to fuck," words flow out freely as you finally let go all the pent up sadness, confusion and a web of lies that you’re still so deeply tangled in, "He- he told me that you stayed with me because I was easy to hurt and that guys like you- prefered girls like me. And he let me skip taking my medicine. He said it was my choice and that he’s not gonna make me be happy and how he liked me the way I was-“ your voice breaks. You can’t say any more words.
It takes all of Akaashi’s strength to not get and go to Tsukishima’s place. Beat him up until the fire under his skin no longer burned, until he felt satisfied with the results, until he knew that you were out of the reach of the blonde’s manipulations and him. Akaashi Keiji is not a violent man, but when he sees you more fragile and broken than you were before, just because of one man and his lies, he can’t help it.
“It’s not your fault.” Akaashi kisses your face, “I know you think it is, but it isn’t. We’re gonna get you back on your medicine and you’ll go to that- that therapist downtown that you said helped you, yeah? We’re gonna get through this together. I’m always with you. I’ll help you. And… I love you, Y/N,” the confession rings into the stuffy silence of the small bedroom and you freeze in his arms.
Your lifeless eyes reach the open window. Your apartment is on the highest floor with light pollution not quite reaching it. The stars are clearly visible. Hundreds of thousands of little lights scattered across the night sky. It’s beautiful.
"The sky is so beautiful tonight, Keiji…" your voice is barely above a whisper, "A graveyard of stars."
Yes, the stars must really be shining for him tonight. He falls asleep with the thought of brighter tomorrows and a better future.

🖤 smut
💙 angst
❤️ fluff
✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖
Karasuno:
Koushi Sugawara
Tobio Kageyama
Kei Tsukishima
✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖
Nekoma
Tetsuro Kuroo
Morisuke Yaku
Kenma Kozume
Lev Haiba
✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖
Aoba Johsai
Tooru Oikawa
💙🖤 Days without sun
Summary: Having your heart broken by Oikawa Tooru is unexpectedly hard, but it’s even harder to let yourself fall for someone new.
Issei Matsukawa
Takahiro Hanamaki
Hajime Iwaizumi
💙🖤 Days without sun
Summary: Having your heart broken by Oikawa Tooru is unexpectedly hard, but it’s even harder to let yourself fall for someone new.
Akira Kunimi
✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖
Fukurodani
Koutarou Bokuto
Akaashi Keiji
💙🖤 Soft spot
Summary: Akaashi is always there to put you back together, granting your every wish. Even when you leave him without any message and disappear for two months. You could say that he has a soft spot for you
✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖
Shiratorizawa
Tendou Satori
Eita Semi
✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖*✧˖
Inarizaki
Shinsuke Kita
Atsumu Miya
Osamu Miya
Rintarou Suna
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Others:
Keishin Ukai
Akiteru Tsukishima
Saeko Tanaka
Shugo Meian
Kiyoomi Sakusa
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Chapter one: Plunging back into the darkness
Word count: 3.7k
Category: hard angst, smut
Chapter warnings: a bit of smut, drugs, mentions of medicine and hospitals
Summary: There are three hot guys who want to be with you, however, there are a few problems along the way. One of them is a plug, another one wants to keep you all to himself and the third one - a med student who deals drugs on the side. Your main problem, though? You have a terminal illness that has a very low life expectancy. Spiraling down a dangerous path seems like a fun way to spend your last years.
Next chapter ->
Series masterlist

It‘s depressing. The walls are white and blank of any pictures, posters, drawings – anything. It‘s constant and monotonous, boring. The smell is always the same too – something old, disinfectant and cleanliness. It’s always dim, too. You like visitor days — the smell and mood in the hospital changes, then. You love it the most during the holidays though. It’s as if even people who hadn’t had visitors in a while suddenly have a line of people desperate to see them. The mix of perfumes, smell of the food that isn’t the bland kind the hospital provides and their natural body odor makes you sick most of the time, but your days are still a bit brighter.
It’s just a bit before Halloween when Mattsun visits you again. You’re sitting in your bed in sweatpants and an Aoba Johsai hoodie, which you got from none other but the dark haired man standing right before you.
“Hey,” he greets you, casual as always. Issei’s dressed in black baggy jeans with an oversized dark green hoodie, hair as messy as always – a bit longer than it was during high school – and countless rings adorning his long fingers. You notice he’s still wearing the one you’ve had gifted him for one of his birthdays – a dainty forget-me-not on a silver band, contrasting with the massive skulls and snakes on the other rings.
“Hey, Mattsun,” you respond, a small smile finding its way to your face. The pastel yellow hospital room always seems a bit brighter when he’s around, even when he doesn’t fit into the room properly. His frame looks surprisingly big in this tiny room, which only contains a bed, one uncomfortable chair, a table beside it, a tiny closet and a small tv. He seems out of place in the dull establishment.
“I’ve brought you a few things,” he finally says, sitting down beside you and taking off his backpack. Your eyebrow raises up. It’s not unusual for him to bring you snacks or books, but your intuition tells you that today it’s something different.
You’re right. Issei pulls out a string of fairy lights, but instead of the round bulbs it’s tiny jack-o-lanterns that should light up once you plug the lights in. And then he pulls out a fluffy black blanket with a bunch of small skeletons drawn all over it.
“Thought your room could use a little bit of décor during the spooky season,” he grins, same as always and you can’t help but pull him into a hug. He knew you had a bunch of medical tests during Halloween and he couldn’t even take you out after — long work hours and all. This was his way of saying sorry, of apologizing for making you spend one of your favorite holidays alone.
“Ah, Mattsun, thank you, these are amazing,” you lift up the blanket, admiring the happy little skeletons. He helps you put up the fairy lights and then you sit back down again. Today, you don’t really have the energy to go outside and walk around in the park around the hospital. Mattsun doesn’t really mind though, or at least he seems not to, absentmindedly playing with your hair as if curling and uncurling your strands was the most entertaining activity in the world.
“Oikawa is throwing a Halloween party so him, Makki and Iwa probably won’t show up. I’m working and I’ll only be out when the visiting hours are over. You sure you don’t wanna invite over Lev or some other friend?”
You boop his nose and give him a loop-sided smile, “Lev’s in New York right now. I’m fine with spending Halloween alone and I don’t want my friends to skip parties just ‘cause I’m lonely. Besides, I’ll probably be irritable after all the tests, anyways,”
Issei stays silent for a moment and then his eyes light up, as if he’s connected two dots in his head.
“The pretty medical student’s group is having rotations at the hospital during Halloween, right?” it seems like he couldn’t be more delighted as you bury your head in his shoulder, not wanting to see his self-satisfied smirk.
“Maybe you’re right,” you grumble, “or maybe you’re wrong.”
He lifts up your face with one huge hand to squish your cheeks. His hand is scorching hot. It always surprises you. It’s like Issei’s body temperature is abnormally high.
“That’s why you didn’t seem down at all when I told you I had work during Halloween!” Issei says, still too enthusiastic to have found out your big secret, “Y/N, you know you’ll be a real bitch if you replace me with that trust-fund pretty rich bitch boy, right? And that I get jealous easily?” He shakes your face, side to side, “Right?”
You turn your face to the left, then to the right until he lets you go, and then you stick your tongue out.
“That was a whole lot of epithets to describe a person you don’t know,” you poke fun of him, as if you hadn’t found about a thousand ways to describe how handsome he was during long evenings spent with Issei, “Besides, I was grieved, you hear? Grieved and languished when I found out you were working during Halloween, but… The pretty trust-fund kid relieved my pain by like… 15 percent,”
“And you still haven’t talked to him…” Mattsun drawls, “You just watch him and then tell me how he’s so pretty and oh, how his bed-head looks so nice, but you haven’t said more than a “hello” to him,”
“I’ll talk to him, eventually. For now I just gotta look pretty and smart. Who knows, maybe he’ll talk to me first,” you retort and cross your arms.
“Or you could just talk to him,” Mattsun leans back until he’s basically laying down in your tiny bed, “I’m sure he steals glances at you too, not exactly a lot of attractive med students and you’re a bit above average.” He chuckles.
“Hey!” you poke his side, hard and Issei grabs you by the waist and pulls you on top of him, making you giggle.
“Okay, way above average. Some people might even say you’re attractive,” he raises his arms defensively and then puts them on the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles.
“Some people?” he nods, “But not you?”
“Maybe I do too,” he wonders, “But if I tell you, you’ll get all blushy, giggly and shit,” he kisses your nose, gently and you let out a sigh, “And I have work soon,” Issei gives you another kiss, this time on one of your cheeks.
“So?” you ask, eyes all big and doe-like. It makes Issei give you a lopsided smile.
“So, if you get all blushy and giggly,” he rolls over and now you’re trapped under him, looking up with lust-blown eyes,, “I’ll get hard and that’s not exactly a problem I can get rid of in five mins.”
You bite your bottom lip and lift your pelvis to grind against his growing erection. Issei lets out a grunt.
Your relationship is weird. Occasionally you have sex, go on unofficial dates when you feel strong enough to, and all his friends know you’re off-limits. But you’re not official. And the wonderings as to why that is, find their way into your mind way too often. Friends with benefits? Yeah, sure, if friends with benefits are that emotionally attached to each other.
Not today, not now though - you don’t let yourself wander off. You’re only focused on Mattsun’s lips kissing and nipping away at your neck.
“Maybe I want you to get hard,” you whisper in his ear and give it a nip.
“You’re a minx, you know that?” he takes some skin in between his teeth and bites. Hard.
“Ow, you asshole,” you swat at his chest, only causing him to chuckle, “That’ll leave a mark.”
Issei licks the bite mark he just left, as if that will make it better.
“Yeah it better. Don’t need no pretty rich boys stealing away my girl,” and then he finally kisses you on the lips. He tastes the same as always – marlboro gold cigarettes and citrus flavored gum. Comfortingly familiar.
“Your girl?” you question, in between kisses. Your whole body feels warm just at the name. You know you shouldn’t overthink it, but you can’t help it. It feels so good to be called his girl.
“Yeah, what about it?” he smirks and rewards you with another kiss on the lips, making you part yours and give him full access. Citrus floods your tastebuds and you moan into his mouth.
One of his hands travels from your back and slowly reaches into your sweatpants, finding your panties - unsurprisingly - wet.
His fingers circle around your clit and you break the kiss, your head leaning back and lips soundlessly parting from the sudden pleasure.
Before you can give an answer to Issei’s previous question or let those few minutes before he has to leave turn into much more fun activities - there’s a knock on the door.
Immediately, you’re off of him and on your feet. Mattsun sits up and then the door opens.
A young nurse walks in, carrying a glass of water and a bunch of colorful pills.
“Oh, sorry Y/N, didn’t know you’d have visitors. Matsukawa,” she acknowledges the man on your bed, having seen Issei enough times to recognize him, “Time for meds,” she puts them on the bedside table alongside with the water glass and you let out a sigh of relief. Pain was kicking your ass for the past hour.
She stares at you for a bit, her eyes focus on your neck and slightly widen. Your hand instinctively lifts up to cover the hickey Issei left.
She leaves without acknowledging it further.
Matsukawa lets out a chuckle that slowly turns into a loud, uncontrollable laugh.
“Now what are you laughing at?” you cock your head to the side, taking the pills and washing them down with big gulps of water.
“Imagine if she hadn’t knocked.”
“Then,” you’re on top of Issei again, “She would’ve seen way more than a hickey you left on me,” you giggle.
Issei grunts.
“Babe, as much as I would like to stay there with you and explore,” his hand trails down, “More fun activities,” he softly kisses your nose and then boops it, “I gotta go to work- have an evening shift today,”
“Yeah yeah, go make coffee for rich snobs,” you respond, finally standing up and letting Issei do the same.
He smoothed out his clothing, a confident grin finding its way to Mattsun’s face.
“What?”
“Admiring my work”
You kick at him, but he catches your ankle just at the right time, squeezing it until you yelp and then he let’s go.
“Asshole,”
“Yeah yeah, you love me,” before you can debunk his statement, Issei is at the door, “Who knows, maybe one of those rich snobs,” he mocks you by making his voice higher, “Will be your pretty med student,”
“Doubt it!”
“I’ll tell you if a pretty snob with a bed-head comes in,” Issei retorts and he’s out the door before the slipper you’ve thrown can reach him.
You sigh and fall back to your bed, curling into a ball. The pain is back and it seems that the meds didn’t really help. Well, at least you’ve managed to keep it together until Issei left. Good.
***
Halloween comes quickly and the hospital empties. A lot of people go back home for the holiday and you’re thankful.
After all the medical tests you went through in the morning, you’re still grumpy and the silence is enjoyable, rather than eerie.
You’ve had an hour until med students came in for practice, but that passes quickly.
You fix up your clothes, jumping into a pair of jeans that make your ass look great and a comfy sweater. Not overdressed, just pretty enough for the handsome med student.
Whose name you’ll ask. Well, if you gather enough courage, anyways. You can’t keep letting Mattsun tease you.
You’re out the door of your hospital room, notebook and pen in hands, head lifted up. A deep breath, reminding yourself that you deserve to be in the med student practice as much as others do.
What they don’t know won’t hurt them. And as far as they’re concerned, you’re one of them and don’t spend half your time in the hospital as a patient.
Today you’re divided into smaller groups. You’re supposed to observe surgeries and take notes. You wonder what kind of surgery you’ll have to watch today. Skin graft ones are the worst and you pray that today, it’s not one of those.
Your hopes are killed and buried 6 feet under, when you walk into the designated operating room. Of course it’s a fucking skin graft surgery. The man laying on the operating table has a nasty burn on his cheek. The skin is raised with a leathery texture and is dark brown in colour. Third degree burns.
Although, maybe fortune isn’t fully mocking you - the pretty med student is here, alongside a few others. His bed-head is wilder than ever before and bags under his eyes could put a raccoon to shame.
You remember that you’re standing at the door and instantly move, not wanting to make it more awkward than it already was. Did he notice you staring? Hopefully not.
You stand closer to him than other students. He glances down at you, golden brown eyes quizzically. You want to punch yourself. Thoughts running through your head wildly. Don’t look like a creep, Y/N fucking speak, damn it.
“You look like death. Do skin graft surgeries make you a bit sick too?” you manage to say, voice higher than intended.
The corners of his lips twitch up, “No, just a long night.”
You raise one of your eyebrows up and he chuckles.
“Not like that. Was helping a friend out. You, on the other hand, look like you just saw death.”
Hah. A clever joke. You just called him death a second before. You open your mouth to answer, but then the surgeon walks into the room and you’re left without the satisfaction of a snarky comeback.
“Okay, you guys already know what kind of surgery we’re doing today and if you don’t - get the fuck out of this room,” surgeon’s words earn a few laughs and his eyes crinkle in a smile, which is not visible beneath the mask, “Does anyone know what kind of grafts we’ll be using?”
You know the answer. Time to leave a good impression on the trust-fund kid.
“You’ll be using full-thickness grafts,” you manage to respond and the surgeon nods.
“And why is that?”
“The burn is on the face of the patient, it’s not too big and, uh, full-thickness grafts tend to have a better cosmetic outcome than split-thickness grafts.”
“That’s right,” the surgeon nods and the dark-haired guy leans down, to whisper directly into your ear,
“Smart and cute? Maybe practice won’t be so boring, after all.”
Your cheeks burn and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to avoid the bright smile creeping its way onto your face.
“I have way more, um, good qualities than just being smart and cute.” you respond, not letting him get the upper hand in the situation. You still have to find out if he’s flirting or just teasing, though.
“I’d like to find out, those… Personality traits of yours,” he replies.
Yes, flirting, definitely flirting. Maybe, just maybe, Mattsun’s advice to talk to him wasn’t all that bad.
“I’m L/N Y/N,” you introduce yourself, putting your hand out for a handshake and for the sole purpose of finally putting a name to his face.
“Kuroo Tetsuro,” he smiles and takes your hand into one of his huge ones. It’s surprisingly warm; comfortingly so.
One step further to getting to know the mysterious Kuroo Tetsuro. You’ll have to tell Issei about this
***
A week or so after Halloween, Lev takes you out. He has a week of vacation, so he uses it to get back to Tokyo and you two choose the best day to spend together, which is hard; taking into account that you’re a hospital patient and he’s busy with his modelling job. Yet somehow, you manage.
“How’s your health?” he asks, tone reminding you of your mom. He has your hand in his and you’re thankful. Your energy is quite low today so the support tall man provides is helpful. Lev’s green eyes study you, as if that would help him find all the answers he sought.
“Can we not talk about hospital stuff when we’re out? I wanna enjoy my time with you.”
Lev lets out an awkward chuckle, his free hand finding its way to his platinum hair.
“Sure, sure,” he says and pats your head, “I’m glad to see you. Really missed you.”
“Aw, Lev, I missed you too,” you say, voice sweet and a smile playing on your lips, “I saw your most recent photos on Instagram. Almost one million likes? People must love you!”
He shrugs, “They just love my face. The few interviews I’ve done aren’t nearly as popular as my photos.”
You can’t help but laugh, “Don’t complain. Not a lot of us can make money off of our faces alone!”
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Lev answers, absentmindedly and then suddenly lights up, “Hey! How’s it going with that handsome med student? Don’t tell me you still haven’t talked to him.”
“I have actually!” Lev’s facial expression turned to surprise, “Oh, don’t be so shocked. I even asked him for his name!”
“And?”
“And what?” you cock your head to the side, a bit confused.
“What’s his name, dumbass?” he gently flicks your forehead and you frown,
“Oh! Oh, it’s Kuroo Tetsuro.”
Lev suddenly stops and fully turns to you.
“Kuroo? Black hair, kinda tall, always with a bed-head?”
“I- Yeah. Also, not kinda tall-“
“Shorter than me,” Lev interrupts and before you can respond that everyone is shorter than him, he continues, “He was the captain of my high school volleyball team, a really good guy actually, surprising, since you usually like assholes.”
Lev doesn’t like Mattsun; Mattsun doesn’t like Lev. Silly conflicts from high school and such. Before you can argue that Issei is, in fact, not an asshole, Lev turns to you, face painted with worry.
“Listen, I can’t talk from experience since I haven’t seen him since he, uh, graduated, but I’ve heard he’s doing some real shady business now.”
“But he’s a med student,” you frown.
“Yeah, being a med student doesn’t really make you immune to doing shady things,”
“Maybe- maybe they’re just rumours,” you reckon and Lev shakes his head. It’s unusual for him to be so serious.
You’re going past a run-down skate park when he looks around and quickens his step, almost dragging you with him.
“Ah, Lev, I can’t go that fast. Why are you-“
The tall man’s eyes are focused on a person, who’s leaving the skate park and coming straight towards you.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, not slowing down, “See that man over there? Suna Rintarou. I really, really don’t want to deal with him right now.”
“Okay,” you say, in between breaths, “Okay.”
Lev is calculated and cold, but you’re beginning to panic. What could be so bad about meeting Lev’s acquaintance?
Well, you’re about to find out because the tall man, Suna, you remember, catches up to you.
Lev stops in his tracks, stepping in front of you; his height almost covering you.
“What do you want, Suna?”
The man clad in worn-down blue jeans and a bomber jacket full of patches, smirks. There’s a cigarette, hanging from his lips. No, not a cigarette. A blunt. If you had more time to collect your thoughts, you’d even say he’s stupidly handsome.
“What? I can’t say hello to my old friend? Didn’t you miss me, Lev?'' His voice, saccharine as can be, cuts through the tension like a sharp knife.
“No, not even a bit,” Lev answers, voice cold and devoid of any emotion.
“I need a favour.” Suna says, not waltzing around with words.
“No.”
“Not even gonna listen to what favour I want to ask for?”
“No,” Lev answers once again, firmly. His hand finds yours once again and squeezes, hard, “Frankly, we should keep going.”
“Ah, don’t be like that. Hey! Maybe your friend will help. What do you say, sweetheart?”
The pet name sounded so condescending, but it’s in your nature to help people. Too kind, as Lev often said.
“No-“ Lev begins and at the same time you answer:
“Y-yeah?” You can’t help but stutter. God, where is your voice when you need it the most? You stand beside Lev now, not hiding anymore.
Suna takes in your appearance, humming in thought.
He grabs your glove-clad hand and before you can answer, yanks you towards him. You almost trip and Lev is about to rip Suna’s head off when the black-haired man unbuttons two buttons of your coat and puts something inside your inner pocket. One of his hands brush against your skin and it’s ice cold. You shiver and take a step back from him. Lev is seething.
“They’re doing a raid. And I’ve already been caught a couple of times. Can’t do jail time. And who’s gonna think such a sweet looking girl has drugs? Nah, man.”
Drugs. You have drugs in your inner pocket.
Lev pulls you close to him and is about to take the baggie out of your pocket and tell Suna to shove it up his ass, when the distinct figure of a police officer begins walking closer to you.
You blanch, legs feeling like jelly.
“Right on time,” Suna drawls as he smiles down at you.
The police officer gets closer with each passing breath.
You’re screwed.
idk if it’s my daddy issues or the raging need to fuck older men

cooldown