#been a hot minute since i wrote for sakusa there

[salsakiyoomi]

sakusa is your next door neighbor.

there are the 'hey, how you doing?' and 'good morning' as you pass eachother in the hall, you're acquainted with each other to say the least.

you've seen him bring his friends over some nights, and you'd greet him with a smile and 'a folk you got there,' and the funny thing is, you've been neighbors for more than two months and yet, you didn't catch his name quite yet.

so now, it's friday night,12:09am to be more specific, the building owner has decided to host a party on the roof, and pretty much everyone was there.

except you, and well, a certain someone too.

you get out to the hall, you have a coat on you since you decided against sleeping and for taking a walk instead.

and you pause mid step out your door, "my god, what are you doing out here?"

the curly haired boy raises his eyebrow at you, "should ask you the same question." he's standing opposite of you, leaning on the door frame of his apartment with his phone in hand, he has a black coat on with a white turtle neck underneath, and he's looking quite neat for someone out at twelve am.

"were you going to the party?" you ask, shutting your apartment door behind you, before leaning on it.

he shakes his head, "no, the music was too loud, was gonna go out for a walk but then," he says, eyeing you and a small smile peaks it's way to his lips, "you showed up,"

"lucky coincidence i guess," you say, chuckling, "was gonna go out for a walk too."

it's12:19am now, the muffled yet loud beats of the music up on the roof booms through the walls, and luckily, it keeps the two of you in the halls chatting.

"excuse me but," you say, "you're looking a little too neat for someone going out for just a walk."

you both hold eye contact for a bit, and you're having a playful smirk on your face when he sighs and hold his hands up in mock defeat, "fine, you caught me, i was going out for some drinks."

"i knew it," you say, laughing, "nobody just wears a gucci coat for 'a walk'" you make air quotes with your fingers and he asks with raised eyebrows, "how did you know it was a gucci coat?"

you pause, and you groan, "i have a thing for fashion."

"so, clothes kink then?"

"hey!" you say and he chuckles, it's a little, quiet sound the escapes him, and you say, "you're the mystery man that owns gucci coats."

the both of you pause, staring at eachother.

"okay," you say quietly, crossing your arms, "that was supposed to be an insult but i guess not."

he smiles, "right."

it's12:27am you're standing in a dimly lit hallway with your neighbor, who you don't know his name, and you're having a chat as if you've known each other in forever and you can't remember the last time you've enjoyed every moment with someone as you are now.

"kiyoomi," he finally say, "kiyoomi sakusa."

"y/n," you grin, "y/n l/n."

he nods, a little pleased smile on his face as he says, "a pleasure knowing you, y/n."

"so," you say, and there are fireworks going off in your heart right now, "tell me, kiyoomi, how do you feel about going out?"

"i feel like," he says, "how about we go out for some drinks?"

you raise your eyebrows at him, and a permanent smile is on your face as your chest expands with warmth, "as long as you lend me your gucci coat."

sakusa laughs, a whole-hearted laugh with a faint blush on his face and he signs it off with a soft smile on his lips.

"you bet."

[sukunas-gf]

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐖𝐍 ❀

pov: you noticed how hard your boyfriend has been training lately for his upcoming volleyball competition. so you decided to wait for him to come back home & surprise him by putting on his favorite lingerie as it’s been a while since the both of you have last done it anyway.

warnings: nsfw, mdni

a/n: ahhh finally some nsfw content!👀 ohh & pls excuse any grammar/spelling mistakes bc i wrote everyt in like 20 minutes😩😂

༄ just be prepared to not be able to walk properly for a few days after that night because it’s huuugeeee👀 r.i.p to your poor cunny tho: bokuto, kuroo, daichi, iwaizumi, atsumu, makki, aran, tsukki, sakusa

༄ at the sight of you wearing their favorite lingerie is enough for them to take you there & then on the bed without any hesitation at all: osamu, oikawa, tanaka, mattsun, kyotani, tendou, terushima, lev, yahaba

༄ the fact that you bothered to give them a surprise has already made them go all hot & bothered. they’ll also feel bad for neglecting you lately so expect the aftercare to be amazing: suga, akaashi, kenma, nishinoya, asahi, yamaguchi, ennoshita, goshiki, watari

༄ they probably thought that they forgot about your anniversary together and they’ll start apologizing profusely. but after you told them that they didn’t forget about anything & that you just wanted to give them a little surprise, it’s enough to make the bulge in their pants grow bigger: suna, kageyama, ushijima, kita, hinata, semi, konoha, aone

© sukunas-gf 2021 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟplease do not modify or repost my content onto any other platforms.

[mianavs]

No Escape

You wanted to start a new life but your old one wasn’t done with you just yet

Osamu x runaway!reader

a piece i wrote for @sugawara-sweetheart​ ‘s decadence collab 

a/n: heavily inspired by my time working at a restaurant minus the hot boss bit. using Kobe as the location of Miya Onigiri 

tw: smut, assault, implied imprisonment

wc: 1.8k+

It’s only been three months since you ran away to Kobe but you’re already settling comfortably into your new life.

The studio you’re renting is tiny and the faint smell of mildew doesn’t leave no matter how much baking soda and vinegar you use to clean the walls and floors—you can’t stand the smell of bleach. Nevertheless, it’s warm and inviting after a long day at work when all you want to do is collapse on your bed to give your weary legs a break. Most importantly, it’s your home and no one is there to lock you in while taking away the key.

Your work is hands-down the best thing about your life. There is no where you’d rather be than in a hot kitchen with sweat dripping down your face as you chop ingredients, sauté vegetables, and plate your creations. It all started with a home economics class in high school that led you into accepting a scholarship to a culinary school that you attended for a year before your life was turned upside down by—

“Y/N! The order! Is it done?”

Your head snaps up to find your boss Osamu Miya drumming his fingers on the counter as he stares you down, thick brows knitted together. You suck in a breath and dart your eyes down to the three onigiri that have yet to be coated with Furikake seasoning. Swiftly, you press the seasoning onto the rice balls before handing the plate over to your boss.

“Done!”

Osamu looks up from the plate and lets his eyes linger on you before nodding wordlessly and taking the food to the customer. It’s a busy Friday evening and you’re understaffed again so Osamu’s waiting tables while you’re working the kitchen along with two other cooks. The orders pile up on the line and adrenaline courses through your veins as you dart around the kitchen gathering ingredients and dodging your coworkers.

Shifts like these drain all your energy and by the time the clock hits 10pm, your legs feel as if they’ll fall off at any moment. Still, you don’t mind the hectic rushes during the day because they keep you from revisiting the painful memories you keep buried away in the darkest recesses of your mind.

Cleaning up after a long busy shift is the hardest part about working at a restaurant like Onigiri Miya. The building is old and the unwelcome critters like to come out at night, so Osamu is quite anal about storing ingredients and cleaning.

It’s not that you hate cleaning but obsessive cleanliness makes your blood run cold and your throat close up until you can’t breathe. It takes you back to that pristine home that became your own personal hell.

You’re scrubbing the outside of the huge metal rice cooker when one of your coworkers lets out a yelp which is followed by the sound of splashing water. The acrid fumes of bleach assault your nose and you look down to see your shoes covered with the cleaning agent.

The scrub sponge slips from your hand as a wave of nausea sweeps over you. Bile rises up your throat and you grip onto the nearby wall to get on your feet before staggering to the bathroom.

The flickering lights of the dingy bathroom distort your vision further but you make a beeline to the sink regardless. You turn on the hot water and pump a ridiculous amount of soap before frantically rubbing your hands together until your skin is red and raw. Your heart hammers inside your heaving chest and hot tears blur your vision as the voice that haunts your nightmares rings in your ears.

Filthy

Dirty

Gross

You’ll never be clean without me

You nearly jump out of your skin when a heavy hand lands on your shoulder. Every muscle in your body tenses painfully and a single thought echoes in your head like a mantra.

He found me

He found me

He found me

But it isn’t him. It’s Osamu forcing you to face him as his fingers dig into your shoulders. Suddenly, you can breathe again and you deflate like a balloon.

“You’re okay, Y/N. I got you.” His rich voice never fails to calm you down during your panic attacks and you wonder how you ever got so lucky to have him as a boss and—

He pulls you to him, pressing his lips against yours in an abrupt kiss. He coaxes you to submit with every languid stroke of his tongue, every touch that burns through your clothes, every groan that rumbles in his chest. Your body always resists him at first and you wonder if it’s due to the wounds of your past that still feel fresh or the inappropriateness of your relationship because Osamu is your boss. Those thoughts eventually melt away along with your resistance and you open up to him in more ways than one.

It’s your first time at his flat but you don’t see much of it because he has you against his front door as soon as you cross the threshold. His lips latch on to your sensitive neck, swiping his teeth against your skin and littering it with marks. It isn’t until his hand buries itself inside your undone pants that your lustful haze dampens.

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your protest falls on deaf ears as Osamu palms your throbbing clit and pushes two long digits into your needy cunt. A jolt of pleasure runs through your body and you grasp at his shoulders, hair, and back while he pumps his fingers at a fast but steady pace.

From your previous trysts at the restaurant, Osamu already knows his way around the fleshy walls of your cunt and aims toward that spot that has you coming undone in minutes. You’re keening and holding on to him for dear life when your release washes over you and covers his entire hand and wrist. Like clockwork, shame and terror take root and a cruel husky voice embedded in your memory resurfaces.

Dirty

That one word is all it takes for you to unlatch yourself from Osamu and glance at the mess you’ve made. You’re trembling like a leaf waiting for a heavy hand to send you across the floor or for harsh fingers to grip your hair to throw you like a ragdoll, but Osamu isn’t him so he brings his two fingers to his mouth and licks them clean; his eyes locked onto yours the entire time.

That single action is what breaks down any lingering walls that still stood between you and your boss and you rush at him planting a hungry kiss on his lips, savoring the taste of your cum still on them. He matches your fervent kiss and leads you to his bedroom, leaving a trail of clothing in your wake.

You end up on his lap with his cock buried inside your messy cunt and you see stars with every upward thrust of his hips. He latches his mouth onto a nipple and suckles on it until it’s red and throbbing before switching to the other.

“S-Samu! Ah-”

He bites down on your nipple and it’s the explosion of pain that drives you over the edge—the way your body was trained to do. Your fleshy walls convulse around his cock and cum gushes out of you coating your conjoined bodies.

“Fuck-”

Osamu curses and buries his teeth into your shoulder as hot spurts of semen shoot into your womb and fill you up to the brim. The two of you cling onto each other as the aftershocks of your orgasms subside. There’s a stinging pain coming from your breast and shoulder and you know without looking that he’s drawn blood.

But you’re used to it and at least Osamu doesn’t kick you off him and call you a filthy whore.

He eventually pulls you into bed with him but the itching need to clean yourself overwhelms you.

“We should clean ourselves up.” You suggest, pushing against his chest to no avail.

“Later,” he mumbles and tightens his hold until there’s no space between you. “How about you stay the night?”

It’s posed as a question but it’s more like a statement especially since he has no intention of letting you go. There’s a foreboding tightness in your chest but Osamu presses a loving kiss on the top of your head and you forget all about it.

You wake up to the sound of male voices but a husky voice stands out from the others. It’s a voice you know all too well because it haunts you night and day. Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s in the bedroom conversing with two other people and your heart shatters when you hear Osamu. You keep your eyes closed praying that they leave the room so you can figure something out but the conversation suddenly stops.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N.”

A cold hand sweeps a strand of your hair to the side and the nauseating smell of hand sanitizer has bile rising up your throat.

In a bout of madness, you launch a pillow at Kiyoomi Sakusa and make a break for the door. You take a couple of steps before two pairs of hands stop you. It’s Osamu and a man who looks just like him who hold you down while you struggle against them like a wild animal.

“YOU FUCKING BASTARDS! LET ME GO! LET M-”

Sakusa’s hand goes up and then there’s a loud crack followed by throbbing pain on the side of your face. Even with your blurry vision you can still make out the disgust on Sakusa’s face as he watches you cough up blood.

“It doesn’t matter how loud you are. No one will come for you.”

He crouches down in front of you and his lips twitch in amusement as you struggle against Osamu and his twin brother. Cold black eyes examine your face before his hand digs into his pocket and takes out a handkerchief.

“I thought I lost you forever, Y/N. Thankfully, Miya introduced me to his brother who just so happened to know a certain girl from Tokyo with a mysterious past.” He wipes the blood off your face and watches the fight in your eyes die out with every word he utters.

“You don’t know how worried I was when I came home and you weren’t in your room.”

Your stomach lurches when he brings his face to your head and inhales your scent the way he always did since your high school days when you didn’t think anything of it. You curse the day you ever decided to befriend Sakusa.

“You’ll have to be punished, of course, but I promised Osamu I wouldn’t be too harsh with you. After all, you’ll belong to the three of us now.”

As if on cue, Osamu presses a wet kiss on your cheek and memories of last night cause hot angry tears to stream down your face. You were foolish to trust Osamu but even more foolish to think you could ever escape you captor.

[tobiosmilktea]

 umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[021] — like a storm!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: swear my writing hasn’t been that good recently and i blame it on my lack of freetime 😔 anyway here’s 4.5k words of trashy word dump that i wrote in 2 hours ;)) also peep the tlc reference

in theory, this picnic blanket was much too small for the likes of fitting a webtoon author, an editor, and a beefy volleyball player all at once, and yet, it still managed to fit two more to come join—tightly bunched up in the park at night as the crisp air temperature slowly drops. having a picnic at the cusp of autumn and winter was a definite mistake, but then again, perhaps they were used to it by now.

it wasn’t like the cold was bothering bokuto at this point anyway as his blood simmered with a boiling hot ichor. he had a death grip on his phone as satomi left him on read. all the volleyball player could do was roll his eyes and scoff as he taps your shoulder. akaashi, who sat on the other side of you was in the midst of speaking to you, yet was interrupted by the bright white light from the screen shone across your faces.

your eyes scanned the texts, feeling your lungs desperately yearning for air. her words suffocated you, crushing your airways as you struggled to breathe. perhaps you have forgotten how to at that very moment. they say it takes about three minutes for someone to suffocate from the lack of oxygen and if akaashi didn’t shake you, that probably would have been you. the fact that seeing that damn photo made your heart shatter more times than you could count over a course of the past few days. you couldn’t catch a fucking break, could you?

you had to look away. if you had stared at satomi in iwaizumi’s bed any longer, you would’ve screamed your head off.

“god, these cookies are so fucking good. i would literally marry these if i could,” kaori moaned into another bite of a matcha shortbread cookie. she practically threw herself over yuko’s lap as she reached in her little baggie for more. “these cookies are a godsend, (y/n), where did you get them?”

“this bakery right next to onigiri miya, apparently they make good lemon macarons as well.” you mutter. the semblance of seeing those texts was still evident upon your expression.

yuko doesn’t fail to notice the way the timbre of your voice had changed within a sudden moment. she gives you a look, “what’s wrong?” her words, careful and genuine filled you with something somber as bokuto handed his phone to her.

kaori grunts slightly as she lifts herself off of yuko, yet her body was still leaned over to skim the texts along with her.

it was a nervous habit of yours to fiddle with your fingers, picking and scratching at your chipped nail polish until it was all gone. you don’t remember when this became a habit, but you always did this whilst you waited for something you dreaded to hear the answer to. as if the nerves within you pooled into a wave, crashing back and forth like a tide until you either get dragged along with it or somehow manage to survive.

their expressions contorted into a nasty mixture of disgust and absolute horror. even kaori who has seen the despicable sweet-tongued manipulations of nicotine-stained fingers of incels had to shake her head and push the phone away.

“i never liked that girl from the start,” yuko scoffs. she hands the phone back to bokuto, watching him switch it off and dropping it onto the cushioned picnic blanket in annoyance.

“god, the amount of anger coursing through my body right now...” muttered bokuto, “i can’t believe she would do this.”

“at least she didn’t do anything to iwaizumi,” akaashi tried to reason. things were already so messed up, it was the least he could do.

kaori shakes her head, clearing her throat from the dryness of the shortbread cookie. “doesn’t matter,” her words were venomous and cutthroat, “she’s still a terrible person considering she got him drunk and made him tell her shit that wasn’t any of her business. what a fucking snake.”

you pursed your lips slightly, wanting to close your eyes and make this all disappear the moment you wake up. the chill of the night air had finally struck you. it was that sudden urge to run away as fast as possible, to escape the words you wholeheartedly wanted to leave behind continued to follow you like haunting poltergeists. and as if the tingling phrases of whispered memoirs of your mistakes weren’t enough, your own decisions whether it was right or wrong lingered back to both iwaizumi and bokuto. it’s heavy baggage you so dearly wanted to get rid of, but the solutions seemed so skewed and out of place for you to comprehend properly that even the chill in the air started to burn.

bokuto glanced at you with worry coated the emotions in his eyes. his hand reached for yours, lacing his fingers through your own as his palm—though rough and calloused—was warm against the biting cold of your hand. it comforted you more than you had expected with the way it was hidden from the others, almost melting when bokuto started to rub his thumb in little circles on the back of your hand and over your knuckles.

your hands were so soft, he had forgotten how much he liked holding them. he could memorize each and every detail just by admiring the way your hand looked so tiny next to his, yet they fit together like a glove.

you swore your heart was ready to jump out of your throat then. you weren’t sure if bokuto could even feel the way you squeezed his hand slightly as a silent answer.

“we should do something about it,” you say after a few beats of silence had passed, but it only comes out in a hushed mutter.

bokuto squeezed back, “like what?”

“i don’t really know,” you shrug while you shook your head, “just something that’ll make her learn a lesson or two.”

kaori gasps, “we should sue her!”

you and the others gave her a look.

“like seriously, sexual assault allegations are terrible especially since she’s a famous sports team’s physical therapist!”

“there probably isn’t enough evidence for that to work, kaori, considering they only made out.” yuko says matter-of-factly, “besides, suing someone is expensive and we don’t have that kind of budget right now.”

kaori braids over arms over each other in disappointment, “that’s lame.”

“yuko’s right.” you sighed, “i don’t want things to get out of hand and end up going public either. iwaizumi is already mad at the fact that i used him for a webtoon and surely being part of a lawsuit would only make it worse.”

it had come to a point that you had noticed how far everything has come. you wanted to laugh at how fast everything went downhill within a matter of months. the skeleton of your mistakes was just waiting for its last bits to fall and crush you.

there had to be a way to just make this—whatever this entire thing is to just end already.

akaashi opened his mouth to speak after keeping his thoughts to himself this entire time, “what if we just... get her fired?” he finished the last of his words in a blazing hesitance as if we would absolutely hate the idea. granted, it wasn’t much to work off of just by a simple proposal, but it had potential.

“we could, but how exactly are we going to do that?” bokuto asks curiously.

“didn’t you say that tomas recently got injured?” akaashi starts, earning a nod from bokuto to have him continue, “well if we want to be discrete as possible we could do it the old-fashioned way.”

yuko furrowed her brows as she asked, “which is?”

“if she keeps missing work or arriving late, she could potentially lose her job.”

kaori bursts out laughing, heaving a heavy snort as she mused at akaashi, “seriously? is that really our best option?”

akaashi rolled his eyes as she teases, “since you wanted to go the legal route, technically, it is.”

the girl’s laughter came to a slow cease, cocking her head in interest as she waited for one of them to elaborate.

“no yeah, there’s still a chance for this to actually work.” bokuto starts without a second thought. hell, he even forgot he was still holding your hand. “professional sports teams require their medical team to be at every game whether it’s real or just practice since the players are always at risk of getting injured. satomi’s known to be good at being there every day on time, so if yoji and their boss sees that she’s consistently missing work now for... let’s say—iwaizumi—and tomas isn’t getting treated asap, they’re allowed to replace her. and if you’re replaced, there’s basically no going back even if it is just temporary. and if that happens...” he pauses as he holds back a smirk, “she’s going to be fined legally with negligence—worst-case scenario, she’ll probably be fined for nonfeasance too.”

“whoa there, those are some big words, sir.” says kaori, “someone catch me up here?”

akaashi lets out a sigh, “nonfeasance means failure to do what’s expected.”

the sound of awe left kaori as she nods in understanding.

“is this really necessary? it seems like a lot of work just to get back at her.” yuko has always been a rational person, just like akaashi, but the only difference between them was that she liked to do things the fastest and most easy way.

“if we play our cards right, i think we could do it.” says bokuto.

“then i think we need all the help we can get if we really want this to work out.” akaashi said, craning his neck towards you to ask, “should i tell semi and suga about it?”

it’s not even a question for you to answer considering how obvious the answer was. of course, you had to tell them. they basically knew everything already, and if anything they’re the only ones who could make this plan actually work.

“i can also tell my team about it to help.” bokuto adds in, but you cut him a look, “only atsumu, sakusa, hinata, and tomas of course. i promise i’ll only tell them what they need to know. what do you think?”

“as long as satomi gets what she deserves.”

you hated the way your thoughts were an endless motion of suffering. it had been keeping you awake all night as you tossed and turned. you couldn’t rest now as if a giant cinder block of forbidden serendipities would clash-boom-bang back onto you as it was being held by a teetering string of floss. it was bound to snap at any second. you yearned for even just a few minutes of rest as maybe these suffocating feelings would disappear once you woke up in the early morning.

it was still dark out—three a.m... maybe, but all you knew was that it was late and your flurrying thoughts were giving you so much residual energy that you needed to extrude. it wasn’t a form of adrenaline or a sugar rush, no, it was something else. your body was well beyond fatigued, but rather your mind was running like a brain on drugs.

there were so many things rushing through your head that it morphed into a jungle of tangled vines of plenty. it was a storming blizzard that couldn’t be calmed down as you finally pushed yourself off your bed, forcing your sheets off of you and sitting on the side of the matress. guilt was eating you alive, gnawing at your hollow chest as your semblance withered while the minutes passed. you just wanted for everything to just stop. please just stop.

maybe this is why you never told any of them. the stress, the consequences— you knew damn well that shit would hit the fan if you did, and yet it’s inevitable. the truth would have come out sooner or later.

ugh, why are you like this? you thought to yourself, dragging your fingers through your hair as you sighed out.

the answers were obvious, but it was the tingling of your lips that sent waves of heat to your cheeks as you recalled the kiss... the kiss! holy shit, the kiss. it hit you then when it played back in your head from a few hours ago when bokuto dropped you off at your door. something melted in bokuto’s eyes the moment you looked back at him, heat emanating from every inch of his skin as you tracked the tension in his body. he leaned over with his face just a few centimeters shy from yours and you swore he could probably hear your heart punching against your ribcage. bokuto could feel the warmth of your breath fanning against his chin and for a moment the world and all the problems in it seemed to disappear for a brief moment. before you knew it he kissed you gently as if it was his last. it certainly would be for a while, anyway.

“dammit,” you cursed in a harsh whisper, leaning over to switch on your bedside lamp in a swift flick.

you slapped your cheeks to force the thought out of your head as you made your way to your desk. you turned your desk lamp on with it’s bright yellow hue flickering slightly over your messy work area. it was scattered with paperwork and miscellaneous notes that it was surely beyond your mood to even fix-up.

usually, you tend to be pretty clean and organized with your desk space, and yet with recent events, you’ve been letting the work pile up instead. you’ve always liked the saying, this is something future (y/n) can deal with, but for once you hated yourself for it. besides, look where it got you.

a sigh escaped your lips when you plopped yourself upon your chair. your delicate fingers traced along the edges of the neatly bonded sheets of love cemetery’s storyboard. you started it earlier today with the help of the rest of the ddd team after the director of the project gave you the freedom to do so as usually, he would be in charge of making the storyboard and such. despite being rather chaotic on a daily basis, you were glad to be surrounded by people who always put a smile on your face while still getting work done. those were the best types of people to work with—friends that cared about you.

you guys managed to get the first fifteen pages done and you needed twenty completed panels in less than twenty-four hours. you were used to this type of pressure, especially while you were working on your webtoon. you were surprised how many times you sprained your hand from constantly working that the aching pain between your joints and your wrists were second nature at this point. surely, you would have carpal tunnel by now if akaashi wasn’t there to always nag you to take breaks.

with a few wrist stretches and cracks of your knuckles, you flipped to the next scene—the day you and bokuto met. your heart tugged slightly as you envisioned the scene you drew in your webtoon, slowly converting it into a movie scene in your head.

oh, how things have changed.

your hand ached for mercy by the time seven a.m. struck. the sun had already peeked through the horizon, sending rays of sunlight through the blinds of your bedroom window as a greeting for the new morning. you had been sketching out the storyboard for five nonstop hours (give or take a few minutes in between trying not to let the different events in the story get to you).

you’ve always had a strange habit of ignoring the pain in your wrist, but now it was certainly unbearable. the lead pencil that was hot to the touch from the heat from your hand dropped onto your desk in a clatter. your eyes flicked down to your palm as you could feel the fatigue darkening your eyebags. your hands were practically alabaster from the constant pressure that it took a good moment for the circulation to run back into your hand.

you left your bedroom and made your way to your kitchenette. it was like your body was moving on its own, grabbing a mug, turning on your kettle, and tossing teaspoons of sugar in your cup for your morning tea as if you were on autopilot.

silence had surrounded you for far too long, you needed some form of sound to keep you sane from staying up all night and leaving you alone with your thoughts to just take over. sounds from the television hummed through the quaint air of your apartment in the lowest possible volume, just beneath the whistling of the tea kettle atop your stove.

you poured out the boiling hot water as your eyes followed the way the tea steeped through the liquid like a spreading storm.

the doorbell rang then, causing your head to swirl towards your door with slight confusion filling your expression. who would even come by so early in the morning?

the floorboards of your apartment creaked at your light steps as you trod towards the door, almost flinching at the cold surface of the handle as you unlocked it. you pulled the door open. there was that infamous morning chill in the autumn air that bit at your bare arms and legs. the heat from your apartment escaped at the motion as your breath hitched within your throat.

he looked out of breath and filled with fearful tension as his broad shoulders relaxed a bit at your sight. his usual soft brown locks that are always styled was tangled and woven into each other like a basket weave. hell, he looked as if he rushed immediately here the moment he woke up, all disheveled and almost desperate. poor guy didn’t even think to put on a coat before coming.

what the hell is he doing here?

“iwa—?” you attempted to say out loud in a harsh whisper that could barely leave your body in the first place. and yet, your voice disappeared into his chest as he pulls you into him, warmth engulfing you like burning ember.

you swallowed the lump forming in your throat as you froze. call it shock or just plain confusion but you couldn’t bring yourself to move your arms from the way iwaizumi’s embrace trapped them to your sides. just the plain sensation of the heat rising from his skin was enough to simmer down your awe as you finally managed to wrap your arms around him.

“i’m sorry,” he mutters into your shoulder.

you captured your bottom lip between your teeth. “i’m sorry too,” you say in the same matter, yet your voice almost sounded hoarse from the dryness in your throat. “i should’ve told you the truth.”

“and i shouldn’t have said those things that i said to you...”

a response would usually follow right after, but you couldn’t piece together the correct words and all of the nuanced phrases in your head to say into the air. your thoughts were too far cluttered and chaotic to even say anything more other than, “it’s okay.”

iwaizumi could only pull you in closer, hold you tighter, and leave his arms around you as if he feared that you would disappear out of his reach if he were to let go even in the slightest. he made the mistake of letting you go that one night many years ago and he has learned his lesson since them. he’s not going to take any more chances.

you two have been in each other’s arms for a while now, but you couldn’t find the strength in you to let go. you haven’t felt iwaizumi’s hugs in so long that perhaps you wanted to savor it a bit longer as well. like a little treat—a reward of a few minutes of peace after a thunderstorm of misunderstanding where all that’s left is the aroma of lingering petrichor of bittersweet nothings. you would like to call this a small victory, but something was off.

“iwa,” you say once you finally pulled yourself into your senses, “what’s wrong?”

“i did something bad, (y/n). i fucked up.”

you pull away from him slightly, just enough to be able to look at him in the eye but still be in the comfort of his arms. “what happened?”

“i was so fucking stupid, i shouldn’t have agreed to go with satomi.” oh, you thought as the words left his mouth. you pursed your lips together, forcing yourself to lock your gaze onto him as he spoke. “i ended up getting drunk and telling her everything that happened by accident.”

it’s okay, i already know. i already know, i already know. the words rang inside your head as you fought to say the words, but nothing was coming out. you did nothing wrong, it’s okay, it’s okay. there was so much hurt and betrayal lacing iwaizumi’s copper eyes that you feared anything you say (regardless if it was in his favor) would obliterate everything that just happened into dust. seriously, how bad would it sound telling a person that you were already aware of what they did? iwaizumi already had so many trust issues that you were treading on thin ice right now.

it really all came down to the question: do what’s right or do what’s easy?

right or easy, right or easy?

for years you have been choosing the easy route to undermine your problems. you always thought to yourself, if you had ignored the problem long enough, eventually it’ll all go away. it might have worked for the tiniest of things, but you should’ve known it would never work when you were fucking up other people’s lives from your own selfishness.

you didn’t want to be selfish anymore.

“we ended up sleeping together.”

you scrunched your brows in confusion, “what?”

did satomi lie then? did they actually sleep together?

“i-i don’t even remember how it all happened!” iwaizumi exclaimed in such urgency. he certainly didn’t want to make the gap between you two any bigger, “all i remember was that we kissed but before i knew it, i woke up to her in my bed but she was fully clothed.”

you sigh with a huff, trying to piece together the disarrayed parts together as you recalled bokuto’s words from last night, satomi doesn’t lie when it comes to sleeping around. the sentence wandering your thoughts as the boy before you continue to ramble. so maybe satomi didn’t lie after all, “listen, iwa—”

“you gotta believe me, (y/n), i didn’t mean to do it. when i said that i still love you the last time we texted i meant it—”

“haji, i said listen!” you huffed as you grabbed his arm. the sudden name change was enough to shut him up and possibly cause a surging red tint to his ears. you found it adorable, but you had to cut him some slack since you hadn’t called him that since high school. “last night i was with akaashi and bokuto.”

iwaizumi was already making a face before you could even start. “why were you with them?”

“just hear me out okay?” you pleaded.

he saw the aggression in your eyes and immediately shut up, nodding for you to continue.

“while i was with them, satomi texted us about everything that happened. she said that you guys only made out and didn’t do anything beyond that.” you explain, watching the slight relief softening his expression, “she ended up just sleeping over instead that’s why she was in your bed.”

you didn’t expect him to say anything when you finished your thought. it was a lot to sudden comprehend as you two just stood there waiting, swallowed up in your own thoughts.

“don’t blame yourself, okay?” you attempted to break the silence, “what satomi did was wrong.”

iwaizumi’s wandering gaze flickered back to you, fist curling up into a tight ball until his knuckles turned marble white. but as quickly as he felt the aching of his nail digging into his palm did he let go and let his shoulders drop. he sighs while he ran his hand through his tangled hair. he didn’t know what to say and the silence was punishing.

you parted your lips slightly as the words tickled your tongue. “this, um, might be too much to ask and you don’t have to say yes, but we need your help with something.”

“who’s we?”

“bokuto, akaashi, kaori, and the rest of my team.” you answer truthfully, “we’re trying to get satomi to face the consequences.”

iwaizumi nods, not hesitating for a second. “alright, i’ll do it.”

well that was easier than you thought.

you held back an amused laugh, hiding your smile behind your hand as you pull away from him. you made your way back to your kitchen as you had forgotten about your cup of tea from earlier.

“but...” iwaizumi trailed behind you as you sipped from your mug. “i was the one who made a move on her first.”

“oh,” you say. you definitely didn’t know about that small detail that sent ivy-like jealousy through your veins, “i mean... you were drunk so it makes sense.” you tried to justify without making your envy too obvious.

you turned away from him, fearing that he could see right through you.

“i kissed her thinking it was you,” he states.

your eyes widen then, slapping your cheeks that heated by the second. there was a grip around your swiftly beating heart, aching within your ribcage as you attempted to calm the roaring serendipities that threatened to bloom prematurely.

a composed sigh leaves you as you pull yourself together, turning back around to face iwaizumi with a meek smile. “cool,” you mused awkwardly as your brain search rapidly for a way to change the subject. iwaizumi moved closer to you, sending you into a mild panic, “have you had breakfast yet?” you asked out of the blue.

but before you could even fathom what he was doing, he cups your face between his hands and pulls you in.

your heart flutters and stops when iwaizumi pressed his lips against yours, soft and delicate as if you were the most fragile thing within his grasp. and you were. his touch against your jaw was light as it trailed down your neck. he could feel the raging ichor that soared through your veins like a wildfire while your hand that was splayed against his broad chest could feel the thumping of his heart against your own palm.

you pull away from him as he says, “no, i haven’t.” but it wasn’t to let him answer, rather, it was the thought that iwaizumi came second place again.

fun facts! —

yes. y/n did kiss both bokuto and iwaizumi within a span of a couple hours 💀 queen shit fr

after iwaizumi left, y/n immediately facetimed kaori and akaashi and told them what happened

it was definitely awkward between bokuto and iwaizumi when they saw each other, but it was harder to avoid satomi

(also by saying “iwaizumi came second place” means who was able to kiss y/n first not who won her feelings over)

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

[blueberrysets]

WITH OR WITHOUT DEATH

pairing: grim reaper!sakusa kiyoomi x f!reader

genre: fluff and angst, probs more angst

warnings: swearing, mentions of sexual activites, mentions of death, angst at the end

word count:  2,482

summary: sakusa was used to a lonely life when he became the notorious grim reaper. he got the cards with the time, place, date, and person of who’s soul he needed to collect, then he would go do his job then leave. that was until he met the bubbly waitress at the 50′s diner with terrible puns but amazing apple pie. if only the council could allow him to keep one, pure soul with him.

reccomended song to listen to: sparks by coldplay

an: okay hI! I’m actually really proud of this little thing I just wrote. This scenario actually takes place in a supernatural realm that I have been developing for ageesss. I’m actually really contemplating on writing a second part to this, so let me know if you’d like that! AND/OR making a writing collection with more haikyuu boys in this universe!! I think it would be really cool to write a supernatural au for the haikyuu boys. lol n e ways, let me know what you think and enjoy!!

sakusa’s breath gets caught in his throat at the mere sight of her. he stands across the street, adorned in his usual black attire and black panama-style hat. a mask covering his identity to the world as he peered into the small diners’ window. she stood behind the counter, chatting with the regulars as she fills up their coffee mugs. a bright smile etched across her face, filling the room with so much joy that his undead heart probably couldn’t withstand it. however for her, it was worth it.

the tacky baby blue waitress outfit matched the 50’s style diner, the color contrasting nicely against her skin. her hair cascades nicely down her back, curled for the dress code she has to withstand. 

“it’s cheesy,” he remembers her telling him one night during her late shift, “but I kind of like it, in a charming way.”

it was always the same routine with them; he shows up at the diner at random times, she doesn’t ask questions as she fetches him his usual order, then she sends him that pretty smile of hers as she leans closer to him to talk about his secret. she was the only living soul to know of it, and the only living soul to have an unknown power over him. he wouldn’t trust it with others, but her? he would lay down his own life to hear her whisper his name just one more time.

the rain falling soaks into his black, wool coat. protecting his skin from the harsh air of late autumn. he finally decides to make his way inside the overly hot diner, before he has another soul to guide. he only sees her when death is present, he wouldn’t be in the human realm for any other reason. that was part of his deal to the council. how amusing is it to be a highly respected, yet exiled demon. the human realm was dirty anyways, in more ways than one. covered in diseases, pervs, assholes, and incubuses that feed daily. they annoyed him the most. loosely throwing around their name like it isn’t the thing that controls them, they just like how their name sounds when a human moans it. disgusting.

his long, bony fingers reach out to pull open the door. the heat hitting him in the face like a sharp slap, knocking the breath out of you if you aren’t prepared for it. the familiar ding from the bells attached to the handle fills the slightly empty diner. only a man sitting at the bar with a burger and a man sitting in a booth with a newspaper fill the occupants. yet his gaze is set on the girl in front of him that turns to meet his eyes. another bubbly smile stretches across her face as she places her hands on her hips. 

“well, hey there stranger,” she states, a slight twang in her voice. he walks closer to the bar, sitting on the awkwardly high bar stool as she places his fresh black coffee in front of him, “long time no see, grim.”

she gently takes off his hat, tousling the curls that are hidden underneath it. he likes to think that she’s fixing his hat hair, but in reality she messes it up more. she finds it endearing how the usual put together grim reaper and can have the cutest curls to frame his face. she places his hat on the counter beside him before hooking a finger into his black mask to pull it down his face. if it were anyone else, he would’ve bitten off their finger and disinfected his whole body from the human diseases. dead or not, it still makes his skin crawl. her, however, she’s so pure and untainted. 

her soul gives off a vibrant, white light. it glows nicely in the middle of her chest, as if waiting for any sort of sin to darken its glow. he also finds it adorable when her eyes brighten a smidge more to see his full face. even with the gray undertone in his skin color, the soulless eyes, and the eye bags; she stares at him like he’s the most beautiful thing to walk this earth. the mask now rests underneath his chin and her eyes are in delight with what she sees. before he could fully examine her face in the close proximity, she leans away to turn her attention to the man two seats down from him. 

“want a refill, mr. k?” she questions as she reaches over to grab the pitcher full of water. 

a single letter, that’s what high ranked demons go by in the human realm. you see, if you know the real name of a demon you have full power over them. it’s crucial for demons in power to keep it hidden, that’s why they usually have humans call them by their first initial. sakusa peers his eyes over to be met with the familiar gray locks of one of his colleagues. koushi sugawara, a hellhound. his usual kind stare meets sakusa’s dead stare, sending a small smile his way. sugawara then turns back to wipe the corners of his mouth one more time with his napkin, placing it on top of his now empty plate. 

“no thank you, sugar,” he states softly as he placed money onto the counter, sliding it her way, “keep the change, honey.”

“you got it, mr. k,” she gleams at him, her eyes squinting slightly from her big smile, “you have a nice night now.” 

sugawara stands from the stool, grabbing his jacket that rests on the chair next to him. shrugging it onto his shoulders as he turns his attention to sakusa sitting next to him. 

“it’s nice to see you again grim,” he nods towards him, “still looking as dead as ever.”

“you as well,” he mumbles towards sugawara, a hand being placed on his shoulder to give a light squeeze before he walks out of the diner. he respects sugawara, as he was one of the few that fought for him during his hearing with the council.

his eyes lazily make their way back towards her, to be taken back by how close she was to him. her elbow rests next to his, her head tilting slightly to rest on her hand. her eyes wide and curious as she pushes the slice of apple pie closer to him. steam coming from the fresh pie and tickling his nose slightly, but the aroma fills his nostrils as his stomach rumbles slightly in hunger. why she was so close to him with that look? he wasn’t sure, causing his eyebrows to knit together in confusion as he picks up his utensils to eat her signature apple pie.

“well,” she asks, her eyes still wide. 

“well what?” he asks back, finally taking a bite. his tastebuds doing a victory dance with the deliciousness that covered them, physically having to hold back a groan after the sweetness hits him. 

“what kind of death was it today?” she asks, her head lifting from her hand as she places it on the counter. leaning slightly closer to him, if he leans in a little more as well their noses would be touching. 

he knows that she does this to keep it quiet between them, but it’s a well known fact that he is the grim reaper. people always ask questions about the unusual deaths he sees on a regular basis. however, he appreciates that she respects his privacy. even though she is a curious little thing. he swallows his food before he answers, the fork still being gripped in his hand. 

“hit and run,” he says with a smirk. 

“tch,” she sneers as she leans back from him, grabbing the rag damp with disinfectant as she begins viciously wiping down the counter, “so much for humanity.”

“what do you mean by that?” he asks with curiosity as he takes another bite.

“well, i mean,” she starts, slightly stuttering over her words. she stops wiping as she stares off behind him, trying to come up with an explanation for how she’s feeling. “I’m beginning to lose my faith in humanity. I mean for crying out loud! we now walk freely with vampires, werewolves, witches, demons! you would think more deaths would be caused by that, but no. it’s still humans killing humans, and i’m glad you help them pass over. you’re more human than any human i have ever met.”

her words drift off at the end as a bashful state takes over her demeanor. the tips of her ears redden as she focuses her gaze on the counter instead of him. it was at this moment, that sakusa knew he would do something he would regret that night. he clenched his jaw as he contemplated his next words. 

“when does your shift end?” he asks in his usual monotones voice. 

her eyes shift to his, expecting him to lecture her about how he was a demon and she shouldn’t say things like that so carelessly. she was used to his scolding, he did it to her quite often. she swallows and licks her lips before replying.

“9 pm.”

“great, ten minutes for me to finish my pie,” he smiles, “let’s go for a walk after.”

                                                  _____________

it’s been fifteen minutes since they first started their walk. his wool coat covers her exposed legs from the cold as her eyes remain upwards towards the night sky. stars twinkle down on them as their comfortable silence is wrapped around them. her mind is gushing over the beauty of the stars, but also over the beauty of him and the two little moles stacked on his forehead. his mind is running a full marathon on how to word his thoughts correctly to her. he’s too analytical, never the one to easily express his emotions. but tonight, for her, he would give it a try. 

his mask remains tucked underneath his chin as his eyes remain on the ground. his bottom lip being gnawed at nervously before he takes a deep breath in. as he releases it sharply, he stops his strides next to her. causing her to halt as well, her head looks back at him as she stopped a bit in front of him.

“everything alright?” she asks in a soothing voice. 

“in all of my years, alive and undead, i have never encountered something like you,” he whispers, his gaze still on the ground. 

“what?” she whispers back, taking a few steps closer to him. the fog of their breaths mixing together at their proximity, she hugs his coat closer to her body as she searches for his gaze to meet his.

“in all of my years, i have never encountered something like you,” he states confidently, his dead  eyes now peering into her much livelier ones. “I have met countless of people, and it’s always the same feeling with them. the greed, the lust, the wrath; it’s always one of those deadly sins that have overtaken their souls. it became redundant, annoying even, to see all of the unruly human souls running around doing whatever they want. then I met you, in a little rundown 24 hour diner with the brightest, purest glow emitting from you. you live for selfless deeds, you put yourself before others, you’re hardworking, honest, beautiful, kind, and everything that it takes to awaken my undead soul. it would stupid for me to say that I am not completely in love with you.”

“grim,” she breathes out, her eyes filling with tears over the beautiful words that he has spoken about her. but more importantly, what it would mean for him, for them.

“you know everything about me, even my weak points. you know about my exile, you know about the little human memories i have left, you know how to summon me, you know my name,” he speaks with raw emotion as his skinny hands reach for her face, the plumpness of her cheeks resting nicely in the palm of his hands, “and i’m terrified of how weak I am for you. yet, i can’t hold it in anymore. you speak so highly of me that i feel alive, but i’m not. god, you make me feel so holy.  like i could walk into heaven right now. yet, i would kill a man if you just gave me a name.”

one of her hands rests on top of his, her eyes never leaving his. a single tear runs down her face, the first drop for a hurricane. his thumb wipes it away, along with the many more that come after it. 

“I’m about to do something, and you and I both know what will happen after this happens,” he explains quietly as he takes one of his hands from her face and wraps it around her waist to pull her closer to him, “but please indulge me, in my own personal sin.”

after the last syllable of the word leaves his lips, he dips his head down to capture her lips with his own. the kiss is deep and full of raw, pure emotion. his grip on her is tight, because he knows that once they separate she’ll have to say it. but all she could focus on was his lips against hers. the saltiness of her tears could be tasted on lips. his skin, which is usually ice cold, is the complete opposite to his warm lips. they fit nicely against hers and move with experience as he continues to deepen the kiss. it seems as if hours had pass in the small minutes of them kissing. she didn’t want it to end, she didn’t want him to pull away. but he did. as soon as their lips part, a sob escapes her body as he rests his forehead against hers.

“send me away, y/n,” he says in a stern, yet soft tone, his hold still tight on her.

“I can’t,” she croaks out, her voice filled with sorrow as her body continues to shake with sobs, “please don’t make me.”

“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispers as pulls her closer to him, “i’m so sorry. but you and i both know, you have to.”

another cry is released as she pushes her face into his chest. her hands gripping the black turtleneck sweater, her tears wetting the shirt as well. he can only hold her, rubbing soothing circles into her back as a single tear runs down his cheek as well.

“please go away,” she sobs, “kiyoomi.”

 once his name leaves her lips, her wish is his command. he vanishes in thin air, a black smoke replacing where he once was. as she sinks down to hug her knees into her chest, she promised to herself that she would see him again.

with or without death. 

[lovelytsumu]

‧₊˚✧ ཻུ۪۪ ᵕ̈ ART

chapter 1 — “drawings„ 

sakusa kiyoomi x reader | mlist

is having a soulmate necessary? — a bunch of connected stories.

Soulmate AU; if you write something on your skin it will appear on your soulmate skin too.

wc: 1,5k | no trigger warning.

Everyone has a soulmate, everyone deserves love, also if they don’t believe it. Sooner or later, in your sixteenth year of life, if you wrote something on your skin, it would show on your soulmate’s skin, same writing, same place.

Sakusa had never cared about soulmates, probably because a relationship wasn’t one of his priorities. He also thought no one could love him, mainly for his strange, cold and blunt personality, for his germaphobic attitude, and he thought girls liked to go out in crowded places with their boyfriends. He just didn’t care, and he hoped to have a soulmate who didn’t care either.

It happened all of a sudden, while he was writing on his notebook, he saw something appearing on his left wrist: “;”, a semicolon. At first, he thought his pen was bleeding a little ink, but when he tried to rub on it, nothing changed. It was like tattooed, and he couldn’t do anything. A couple of minutes after he realised he had a soulmate. Well, another problem added to his germophobia and mysophobia. Instead of panicking for the small amount of black colour on his wrist, he just pulled on his sleeve to cover it.

He wanted to keep it a secret, at least for now.

Some days have passed since the semicolon, and everytime it got erased, maybe from a shower or a bath, his soulmate was quick to draw it again. For him, if it was just that small symbol, it was okay. “Sakusa, what’s that flower on your arm?” Komori, during the whole practice his eyes were glued to his friend’s forearm, noticing that something was appearing out of the blue. “What?” he was focused on spiking the balls, that he didn’t saw the outline of a flower which started to mark his skin. “Guys! Our ace as a soulmate! And she’s also pretty talented!” the libero said to all his teammates, who got near Sakusa to admire the beautiful drawing on his arm. “Stop, I don’t like having you squished around me like this” he said, trying to move away from the small crowd composed of his teammates.

When Itachiyama’s ace got back to the locker room, he noticed that the drawing on his arm was a sunflower, and now there were also some leaves around it. The outline was perfect, without any kind of mistake or imprecision. But why? Why draw something so big and beautiful which can be easily erased with water and soap? Maybe, his soulmate did it just to annoy him, or because she didn’t care about him. He hoped it was the second.

Practice ended, and he was free to go back home, but something on his way caught his interest. A faint light coming from the art room. Minding other people’s businesses wasn’t his favourite activity, and he didn’t want to annoy who was inside. He stood near the door, and with surprise, a [h/c] hair coloured girl was standing near a canvas, and she was looking for more paint. Then, he looked at the unfinished drawing, representing a sunflower, very very similar to the one on his arm.

He was just watching her looking for some spare paint around the class. Carefully, without wasting a single drop, the girl put the colours on her palette, now looking for an appropriate brush to start her piece. The [h/c] student began painting with a yellow brush stroke, the firm hold of the brush was in contrast with the delicate move. He couldn’t see her face, but he bet it was plain, paying attention to all the small details, careful of what she was doing.

To almost everyone, that movement may seem normal, but there was something more. Her precision, her gentle brush stroke, her concentration. It was almost unnatural. She was in her personal world, a free, peaceful, imaginary space. When you do something you deeply love, it’s like this, reading, playing an instrument, playing your favourite sport... also if you don’t notice it.

While Sakusa was thinking if she really was his soulmate, he didn’t pay attention to the painting, where the petals of the sunflower were almost finished. Yellow, mixed with a bit of orange. Then, she moved on, and picked a dark brown bottle of paint. The girl started placing some dots in the center of the sunflower.

The artist felt eyes on her, but she didn’t care. Art is made to be seen and appreciated, is made to feeling part of it, is made to reveal your own feelings. Writing a story, composing a poem, singing a song, painting a drawing... are just a few of the ways art can express itself. It’s something magical, or at least, she would describe it like that.

“You know, drawing is a really good activity to reduce anxiety and sadness” she said without turning, knowing someone was leaning on the doorframe. Sakusa stayed still and didn’t answer back. “It also helps your concentration and creativity. Someone thought about how our psychic state reverses itself on the paper which we are drawing on. It sounds impossible, but it’s true.”

— 🌻 — some time after

Sakusa was staring to the ceiling of his room, laying on the bed. He was still thinking about the words he had heard before, also if he didn’t know that girl, the one in the art room, he couldn’t do anything besides being impressed. Her technique, her delicate touch, her thoughts.

Maybe it was just a coincidence, but the drawings, the sunflowers... was her his soulmate? Was it that easy find the person who the fate decided to pair you with? Strange. It was common to hear people who had to do kilometres and kilometres before finding their half. Maybe he got lucky.

He didn’t want a relationship, he didn’t define himself as someone who desperately needed a girlfriend, but, for the first time, he had to think again about that idea. Sakusa has always liked who put a lot of effort in what they were doing, as for the girl at school, or him when he was playing volleyball.

He rolled up his sleeves, to see if the flowers were still there. Luckily, everything was like that afternoon: the big sunflower on his arm and the small semicolon on his wrist. He didn’t scream of joy when he thought about his first “move”, because it meant ruin his skin with a pen or marker.

A little arrow pointing at the flower, and “I like this. You’re good at it.” without mentioning who he was. Also his soulmate started drawing on his skin out of the blue, so why couldn’t he write on his own arm? Then, he was just staring at the small comment, waiting for an answer, that could never be written.

Meanwhile, ___ was taking off her clothes to have a shower. The hot water was already running, but before opening the shower glass door, she paused in front of the mirror, looking at her arm. Her soulmate had left a comment near her drawing.

“I like this. You’re good at it”. She couldn’t do anything than smile. She had just received a positive opinion on her sunflower. For someone who doesn’t care about art, or just draw because they have nothing to do, that may sound as nothing special, but for her it was different.

It hasn’t been a lot of time since she had started painting again, and receiving a compliment on one of her favourite subjects made her heart flutter, especially because that comment was from who the fate tied her together with. Also if she didn’t want to be in a relationship, or at least, at the moment she couldn’t be the best girlfriend ever, as she said.

It was the starting of a new era of her life, after a lot of sadness and tears, she was finally standing up again, and maybe, this time she wasn’t alone. She got under the shower, and watched silently how the ink on her arm was already smudging down her arm. “I want to draw it again”.

After she came out of the bathroom, she quickly drew the semicolon on her wrist, and then, a smaller sunflower on her forearm. This time she added a phrase under it. “Thanks for the compliment, I’ve read it just before showering. I hope you won’t hate me for this, but at the moment I don’t feel like meeting you or having a relationship” she cursed at herself for the last sentence, but some words were already appearing again on her skin.

“Don’t worry. I am not the type of guy who wants a relationship for now.” somehow, both Kiyoomi and ___ felt relieved when they read each other’s words.

Maybe their story wasn’t meant to be as one of the thousands clichè love movies.

[to be continued]

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