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backoftheletter · 8 months

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— LOVE BETWEEN THE LAYERS | nanami x reader

-> synopsis: nanami seeks out his favourite place after a long day

-> cw: SFW, pure fluff, food

-> wc: 1.1k

-> a/n: not as long as I’d hoped it’d be but here we are, my second fic for my collab. Also trying something new with my layouts cos apparently my posts look boring or smth

The late autumn air is crisp this evening, the skies already deep, dark and speckled with stars that are partially shrouded by clouds leftover from the downpower earlier in the day. It still smells faintly of petrichor, mixed with the acrid tang of the city that lives on the biting breeze. Bright, yellowish headlights illuminate the road as Nanami crosses over to the other side, burrowing his chin deeper into his cashmere scarf to ward off the chill that nips at his cheeks and nose, kissing them rosy.

A quick glance at his watch confirms that he is in fact running late, walking more briskly now down the pavement to reach the warmest place in the city. The soft glow from the shop front and the sign that hangs overhead soothes his irritation a little, huffing a sigh of relief when he pushes the door open and the sound of the bell above it tinkles merrily.

Nanami is immediately coddled by the pleasant heat that he steps into, followed by the rich, smokiness of freshly ground coffee, accented by something more buttery and comforting. Immediately, the tension that had built in his shoulders over the course of the working day eases as it all wraps around him and his eyes flutter shut for the barest moment so that he can soak it in.

Tugging his scarf a little looser, he approaches the counter, inspecting today’s selection of baked goods through the glass screen and wondering which one would soothe his worn out soul the best. Lost in his musings, he barely notices you watching him with a knowing smile.

“Hi, what can I get for you?” you ask. He hums, a gentle, deep rumble that sits deep in his chest as he looks up.

“What would you recommend?”

“The chocolate croissants have been a big hit lately,” you tell him and he hums again. His gaze settles over the pastry in question, golden and shining softly from within the basket on display.

“I’ll take two.”

“Warm?”

“Please.” You grin, grasping a pair of tongs and setting to work. He watches you move easily behind the counter, flitting from station to station with a practiced hand before the pastries are set before him along with a steaming cup of hot chocolate. The tug of a smile twitches at his lips as he regards the vapour rising from the cup. “I didn’t order a hot chocolate.”

“You were about to.”

“How do you know I didn’t want something else?”

“Because you look cold and I know my favourite customer. ” Golden eyebrows raise slightly at your nonchalance and his lips curl up just a touch this time.

“Your favourite?”

“My favourite,” you say firmly, with a flash of a grin that makes his heart sigh.

“What time do you close?” he asks.

“Same as always.”

“Would you be able to close a little earlier?”

“What for?”

“For me.”

He says it so simply. No pomp or circumstance, just blunt honesty, in that voice that feels like velvet caressing your ears. The blond-haired man has always looked far too tired for someone who is only in his late twenties, the lines under his typically stern eyes aging him a few years. And yet he is still handsome, in that angular, distinguished sort of way that appears cold and unfeeling.

But you know that to be misleading. You’ve seen the way he gravitates towards warmth like a cat, how he takes pleasure in little things like freshly baked bread or a book that is slightly dog eared but well loved. How you can see the knots in his broad shoulders loosen with his first sip of coffee in the morning or the rare, satisfied smile he wears after eating one of your pastries.

“I think I can pull a few strings,” you say, and his smile widens. It really brightens up his face.

“Good. I don’t plan to eat two pastries by myself before dinner.”

“Oh, so we’re having dinner?” you laugh.

“Of course. I’m cooking tonight.”

“Lucky me,” you tease, pulling off your apron and putting it away before making your way out from behind the counter.

“My bill?” He raises an eyebrow when you stand toe to toe with his polished oxfords.

“Your grand total is one kiss,” you say shamelessly, the mischief on your cheeks rivalling that pest Gojo. Only on you, it is endearing and sweet. It’s your gentle yet playful nature that draws him in and settles any irritation crawling under his skin. You have a way of loosening his taut lungs and making it easier to breathe through the often toxic fumes of life.

“You have no shame,” he tuts. “You still have customers.”

“They’re not looking,” you say dismissively, leaning closer. “C’mon, just one? It doesn’t even have to be on my lips.”

“Very well,” he sighs, though it’s tangled in fondness rather than resignation. He reaches out a large hand to cradle your cheek, the gold of his wedding band cool against your skin. Your eyes grow half lidded at his touch and you lean into it, humming contently at the familiar heat and texture of his careful palms. Faintly, the warm tang of his perfume tickles at your nose, faded after a long day, the notes of leather and oak still clinging to the fabric of his wool coat as he angles down to kiss you. Cool lips brush over the skin of your forehead tenderly, lingering for a heartbeat before he draws away and fixes you with a soft gaze.

“How was your day, love?”

“Good. How was yours?”

Nanami looks at you thoughtfully. The answers that sit on the tip of his tongue go along the lines of long or irritating or I nearly strangled Gojo again, does that give you an idea? But your gaze is so sweet as you wait for him to tell you and he sighs because it honestly wasn’t that awful after all.

“Better, now that you’re here.”

And just because he can’t resist how soft your lower lip looks caught between your teeth to curb your grin, he leans down again, catching them chastely with his own. The giggle that he swallows prompts him to smooth a hand over your waist, and when he finally pulls away, you rest your palm over his steadily beating heart.

“My, my, so scandalous, Kento. What will my customers think?” you titter, coaxing that wonderful, quiet chuckle from him. He looks at you fondly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“That your husband loves you very much.”

Your cafe is the second warmest place in the city. The first will always be found in you.

-> taglist: @sookisaurus @kuroosdarling @dragonslayer-5fanfiction @turquoiselace @firebonbon

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backoftheletter · 8 months

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cherry on top.

fushiguro toji x reader

in which your boyfriend of the last three years treats you to a birthday that he thinks you more than deserve :D

w — no curses AU, implied! Rich! Toji, a grain of angst, hair length isn’t specified but it’s enough to make a small bun, mentions of chubby! MC, and the hope that the fluff rots your teeth 🤭 not the best thing ever written by my hands but I love it anyway

a/n: happy birthday to me! this would’ve been out sooner today but I got a lil bit sick 😷 i’m unfortunately another year older but maybe another year closer to finding the man that’ll treat me like toji does mc in this fic haha. enjoy y’all’s reverse-birthday present lmao. this is a lil bit of self-indulgence btw so if it flops that’s why (but hopefully you guys like it too). I also tried to do accurate research on irl locations of the places that are mentioned, so I’m sorry if something isn’t correct 🙈

You don’t like the shake on your shoulder that wakes you up, nor the soft whisper of your name dropping from your boyfriend’s lip. You like it even less when you open your (very notably) tired eyes and look at the clock and see what time it is.

“What the fuck, Toji?”

He grins at your mumbled swears. “Happy birthday, cupcake.”

You know for a fact you have junk in your eyes, your hair’s a mess, your breath is borderline rancid and needs brushing, and that you overall look (and feel) like you just crawled out of a sewer completely deprived of sleep. So how this wonderful man squats beside the bed and combs his large fingers through your hair and gets his face so close to yours to attempt to kiss you is beyond your comprehension.

You cover your lips with the blanket, making him chuckle.

“Let’s celebrate, yeah?” Toji says, then stands to his full height. That’s when you notice that he’s dressed in regular clothes. “Gotta show my woman how much she means to me, don’t I?”

You quickly pull the blanket over your head to try and diminish his efforts. “If you wanna show me how much you love me, then let me sleep all day.”

Toji laughs as you snuggle into the pillow under your head. But the more you dig your cheek into the pillow, the farther away your ability to fall back asleep seems to be. You dig your nose into the soft material and let out a heavy sigh, hoping he doesn’t hear.

He’s won. “Come on. I’ll help you get out of bed and get ready, if that’s what it takes.” And when he chuckles after, you know he knows he’s won.

Toji lifts you by your outstretched hand to get you sitting on the edge of the bed, then proceeds to do the little things to get you ready that make your desperately-tired-but-desperately-in-love heart turn to mush.

Toji turns the sink on to get it warm so you can clean your teeth and face. Once you’re done, you realize he’s already got clothes already waiting for you to change into (one of his shirts that’s super baggy on you and a pair of red-pink floral leggings) on the bed. And once you change, he’s got your hairbrush in his big hands. He slowly combs his thick fingers through your hair, gently untangling the knots and brushing them out with minimal effort and pain.

You admit you nearly fall asleep again to his touch without shame.

“Don’t fall back into sleep,” Toji’s deep voice rumbles, which only soothes you further. “The day hasn’t even started yet.”

“You’re right,” you reply, yawning loudly. “It’s not even dawn yet.”

“Daybreak will be here when we get to the car,” he comments.

“Nice way of saying I’m slow,” you mumble.

Toji chuckles as he ties your hair into a bun, the stray baby locks being too short and left to dangle by your cheeks. He takes your smaller hand into his, and you still can’t help but feel flustered knowing how much bigger and warmer his hand is in comparison to yours is (read: you can’t help but feel flustered knowing you have someone holding your hand so sweetly with a hand as big as Toji’s).

There’s a small breeze when you step outside. And sure enough, Toji’s assumption is correct: the sun is starting to break over the horizon by the time you walk out to the car.

“Told you so,” Toji jokes.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but grin, too. “Shut up.”

He opens the car door for you like a gentleman, to which you feel your cheeks warm up in embarrassment.

When he starts the car and grips the wheel, it’s then he asks, “Where do you want to go for breakfast?”

You immediately know where you want to go. And you feel you know Toji knows, too. It’s been a place you’ve only been to twice because of how expensive it was, but it has the best waffles you’ve ever tasted. The thing about it though was, if you went, there wasn’t going to be a way for you to control your appetite.

You look to Toji, lips in a straight line as you internally debate with yourself.

“You have to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t laugh at how much I order.”

Toji chuckles at that, to which you send him a playful glare. He holds his hands up in mock surrender, the scarred corner of his lip quirking up.

“I promise.”

“Or how I eat.”

“I’ve seen how you eat, don’t worry.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Toji takes you to the fancy breakfast-only restaurant you murmur in embarrassment under your breath. And you were right: he already knows. Because the place was where you originally met—Toji’s umpteenth time with Megumi, while it was your second and last time.

Until today.

“You want me to take you here more often?” Toji asks.

You have a mouthful of syrupy waffles shoved into your mouth when he asks. You can’t help but feel embarrassed over the sudden focus on you while your cheeks are stuffed and puffed up like a chipmunk. But you nod anyway, slowly chewing the waffles and swallowing them.

“Don’t slow down on my accord,” Toji adds.

“You’re gonna make me fat,” you accuse jokingly.

Toji shrugs. And when that damned smirk appears on his face, you know he’s fixing to say something you aren’t gonna like.

“So what? You look good with rolls. More for me to love and grab during-”

“SHUSH!” you whisper-scream, eyes bulging out in hopes no one around you heard what he was implying.

The buff man only chuckles and smiles wider, happy with making you as flustered as he has.

You both end up stuffing a gut (on Toji’s even more overstuffed wallet) on the breakfast food before you two move on. Whatever he has planned next has you two driving for a good while after breakfast, which eventually leads you to ask, “Where to now?”

“To Narita.”

“Why?”

“To do one of the things you do the least,” he replies with a smirk.

You go blank. You admit to yourself you have no idea what he’s talking about. You try and think on it, and when he pulls into the Aeon Mall, a small lightbulb appears over your head. You look at him incredulously, while Toji looks extremely proud of himself.

“You’re taking me shopping?”

“Surprise.”

You belt out a small laugh. Of course. Of course this man would take you shopping. Of course he would do something that you felt so uncomfortable doing.

Shopping for yourself hadn’t been something you did for yourself often. Or really at all; only when you really needed to.

After being financially strapped for most of your life, from childhood until recently, you hadn’t spent much on yourself. You didn’t treat yourself to the finer things in life, even when you could’ve. And it left you empty, without a desire to be kind or do things for yourself. It left your birthday without luster, hollow, and without purpose, which led to you being so… uncaring about the day.

The day Toji, unknowingly to you, loved the most. Because it brought you into this world, into his and Megumi’s life. He’d be damned if he was going to let you act like it was just another day of the year.

Fuck that. His bank account was more than big enough to treat his woman to a proper birthday that she more than deserved.

Those thoughts were only reaffirmed by the bug-eyed, awestruck look on your face, your pretty eyes lighting up with a childlike wonder he’d only seen less than the amount of fingers on his right hand. He loved seeing it.

Oh yeah, he was going to spoil the fuck out of you.

You turn to him, mouth ajar with a twinkle in your eyes. But something crossed over your face for a split second—an emotion he knew too well: guilt.

“Toji…”

Fuck. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one little bit. Not the look that crossed your face, even for a second, not the sound of your voice as you called out to him. He wasn’t going to let your goody-two-shoes, guilty-feeling heart spoil his goal of reigniting your appreciation for your own birthday. Nope.

Toji wraps an arm around your waist and presses a sweet peck against the top of your head. “Don’t even try and do that shit—feeling guilty and all that. You ain’t taking advantage, woman. Now go shop. I ain’t got these big arms for nothing.”

“You aren’t my sugar daddy, you know,” you reply, brows raised with lips quirked up in amusement.

“No, I’m not. I’m a rich man that loves his woman and wants her to have the best birthday she’s had in years and take a massive chunk outta my bank account,” he boldly retorts. He grins that familiar, shit-eating grin, dips his head and neck and presses his lips against your cheek, and drags you forward, deeper into the mall. You can only help but throw your head back and laugh.

You spend several good, long-ass hours in the mall; a few hours pass what is considered lunchtime before you two do enough shopping that you both have to go back outside to the car to pack it with what has been bought before you can even think about getting anything to eat.

“What do you want for lunch?” Toji asks, stretching his burly arms before leaning against the car.

Your reply is instant, “KFC.”

Toji snorts, chuckling. He interlaces his thick fingers between yours and leads you both back inside.

Another few hours are spent buying clothes, a fluffy blanket you eyeballed and Toji was going to buy no matter how much you told him to put it back, and a few plushies of some of your favorite Pokémon. On the way home, Toji surprises you again by going to Mister Donut and practically taking half of what the store had. You died laughing in the car afterward because some of the other customers got offended as they watched him take so much.

“Toji, you shouldn’t have taken so much,” you giggle behind your hand as lean back against the door. “You seemed like an asshole.”

He smirks, holding the wheel with one hand and using the other to pinch your cheek.

“Don’t give a shit,” he laughs. You playfully swat at his hand. “You said you wanted donuts earlier, so you’ll get some donuts.”

“I didn’t mean the entire store.”

“Shoulda been more specific then.” Toji winks and the smirk on his face grows even wider.

The sky is painted beautiful oranges, pinks, and blues by the time you arrive home. The sun is setting beneath the horizon, under the green land and leaving behind the lights of the city and glitter of the stars dancing in the darkening sky to light the world. For some reason, it’s more… breathtaking than you remembered. You’d often spend time outside as the sun set, thinking nothing of it.

Maybe it was because of today.

Your eyes flicker to your boyfriend and the massive muscles of his arms bulging against the black shirt as he takes everything you’ve bought inside, and you can’t help the flutter in your stomach and the quickening pace of your heart.

Maybe it was because of Toji, and him making your birthday the most special it’s felt in years.

The smile that makes your lips go from ear to ear doesn’t go unnoticed by the black-haired man when he comes back outside. Nor does the sniffle and the backs of your hands wiping away at tears sliding down your cheeks. It makes Toji’s lips pull into a slight frown. This isn’t what he was expecting. Nor what he wanted to see.

He slides an arm around your shoulders, tugging you to his muscled chest.

“You ain’t supposed to be crying, baby,” he mumbles, big hands rubbing circles on your back to soothe you. “Come on. I’m going to start dinner. Shouldn’t be cryin’, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you mumur back, burrowing yourself deeper into his comfort, “but I’m not sad. Thank you Toji. Today has been the best birthday ever.” You stand on your tiptoes and press a sweet kiss to his cheek. “I love you.”

He stills, eyes widened slightly in surprise. You don’t make anything of it until the moment comes where you try and break free of his hold moments later and he doesn’t budge. Your brows furrow, and just as you’re about to ask him if he was okay, he cusses under his breath.

“Fuck it. Megumi can be the ring bearer.”

What he says doesn’t click until he gets down on one knee and pops open a small emerald green box, with a heart-shaped diamond ring nestled inside of it. Your mouth drops open and you feel eyes burn with more tears.

“[Name]—”

“What the actual fuck?”

You both laugh. Toji’s head drops as he sniggers at your foul language upon him getting on one knee; you laugh at yourself, at the reaction that came out of your lips faster than your brain could process.

“I don’t deserve you,” you whisper out, holding back a flood of tears.

“Nah, I’m the one that don’t deserve you. You’re fucking perfect. Who wouldn’t want you?”

You don’t deserve him, but he wants you anyway. Holy shit. This was really happening, wasn’t it? Were you about to say ‘yes’ and have a fiancé? Eventually become a married woman and help your to-be husband raise the sweetest, most adorable boy you’ve ever met? (It’s not like you aren’t already. You’ve heard him call you ‘Mama’ once through a phone call. Toji tried covering it up with a cough; you haven’t brought it up since.)

Toji clears his throat, regaining your attention. When you look down at him again though, he seems more nervous—all his moxie down the drain.

“So… Marry me?”

Your hands cup his cheeks and press your lips to his. He wraps his free arm around your waist, tilts his head to the side slightly and deepens the kiss.

You love him. You absolutely love him. There’s no doubt in your mind that you love him and your heart belongs to him. There’s no one but him by your side in the future you see. Every inch of you belongs to him, and he wants to belong to you just as much.

So, you pull from the kiss and whisper against his lips, “Let’s get married, baby.”

“Fuck yeah.”

You yell out in surprise as he picks you up with one big, strong arm and takes you inside. You wrap your legs around his waist in reaction, desperate to not fall.

But you know Toji wouldn’t ever let you fall. Not in a million years.

“Wanna go to the bedroom first?”

“You horny motherfucker.”

“Only for you.”

“Just put that ring on my finger and cook.”

He sets you on the counter like you’re porcelain. He takes the glimmering ring from the little box and slides it onto your ring finger. A perfect fit. You hadn’t even told him your ring size. His eyes are trained on it for several seconds before he mumbles, “Belongs right there.”

Whatever dessert he makes tonight, nothing will top this moment. This is the cherry on top to the sweetest birthday you’ve ever had. If whatever you went through was to get you here, to meet the man who’s the love of your life, you’d do it all over again.

@heresan here’s the birthday fic 🤭 i’ll get back to you vv soon, the last two days have been wild 👀

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backoftheletter · 9 months

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me rn

Me at 3am clicking “keep reading” on the most jaw dropping, earth shattering, pantie dropping, smutty fic when I have to be up in 3 hours

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backoftheletter · 9 months

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fr tho why is everything smut😭😭 i wanna read angst that would ruin me, make me sick to my stomach and cry like there's no tomorrow bro i want a fanfic that is so devastating that i won't be able to function for the next few months

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backoftheletter · 10 months

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they should invent a love that isn't self-destructive and mutilating 👍🏻

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backoftheletter · 11 months

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୨♡୧ THE MAN WHO HUNG THE MOON — sakusa kiyoomi x reader. sfw. fluff. dad!sakusa.

the sound of sleepy giggles from down the hall makes a smile tug at the corner of your lips. as you pick up the toys scattered about the living room, you picture the scene; your daughter comfy under her blanket and sakusa squeezed into the toddler bed beside her with a book of her choice in his hands. he’s probably changing his voice with each character just the way she likes, tickling her tummy every time she laughs so that the joyous sound is prolonged. little moments like these, ones that warrant you a glimpse into their daddy-daughter time never fail to make your heart swell.

the noise from the back dies down a few minutes later and the quiet click of a door closing tells you that your husband has finished putting the girl to bed. you’re almost finished cleaning up the toys left behind in the living when sakusa wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. he doesn’t give you time to savor the feel of him before he’s gone, leaning down to aid you in tidying up.

you shoot him a petulant look that he can’t see as you reach down to pick up the doll by your feet. you have every intention of tossing it in the bin with the rest of your daughter’s things but before you can, you realize that you don’t recognize it. your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you meet sakusa at the toy bin. “when did you get her this?”

“a few days ago,” he replies upon seeing it. in all honesty, he had meant to put the doll away before you returned home. now that the cat is out of the bag, he might as well be entirely transparent. “and i actually got it for me.”

“like, got it for you so the two of you could play together?” you eye him curiously with your question. you’re sure that’s what he meant but, without context, the statement produces an entertaining image in your head of the man playing with toys even in the absence of your daughter.

“not really,” sakusa admits, and he can see a sparkle of interest swimming in your gaze. the real reasoning behind the purchase is nothing to be embarrassed about but he still hesitates to spit it out. he’d hoped that you would see the result before you could ask about the process.

“sakura told me she likes the way you put her hair in two braids so i bought the doll to practice.” he turns the doll in your hands so that you can see what he’s taken away from the youtube tutorials in the past few days. it’s a lot better than his first attempt but sakusa thinks he could use a few more sessions to hone the skill before surprising sakura with the style.

you survey his work on the synthetic hair. it’s not bad by any means. the braids are a little loose, but you can clearly see all of the effort he’s put in. you glance up to meet his onyx gaze and offer him a smile. “you’re cute. but why didn’t you just ask me? i would have been more than happy to teach you.”

the thought had passed sakusa’s mind when the girl had first told him that she preferred the way you did her hair but he had convinced himself that the task was something he could easily do on his own. it’s not that he feels like he’s above asking for help, though, he does feel like you’re busy enough with work of your own. the last thing he wanted to do was worry you with this—something he should be entirely capable of.

“you already have so much on your plate, i thought i could take care of this on my own.” sakusa takes the doll from your hands and places it with the rest of the toys in the wooden chest before closing it.

it’s hard to believe that this is the same man that expressed doubts about whether or not he’d be a good dad before your daughter arrived. every day since then, he’s proven that his anxieties about being a parent were misplaced. sakura looks at him with stars in her eyes, like he’s the very person that hung the moon—a lot like you’re looking at him now.

you interlace your fingers with his slim ones, giving his hands a comforting squeeze as you boost yourself up on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his in a soft kiss. his breath is minty, likely from brushing his teeth with sakura not too long ago. you pull away with a smile, bumping the tip of your nose against his before returning to your normal height. “she’s going to love when you do her hair.”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

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backoftheletter · 11 months

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WASTE OF LIPSTICK — SAKUSA KIYOOMI

content: female reader, established relationship, fluff. word count: 0,7k.

note: soft sakusa is my religion.

Sakusa Kiyoomi had a reputation for being serious, collected, competitive, honest and even a little intimidating— well, too intimidating.

Many say he’s even scary.

You couldn’t agree more, indeed, he was all that. Your boyfriend’s reputation doesn’t come from nowhere, right?

But that’s the Kiyoomi that the public knew. The Kiyoomi you knew was nothing like what they thought he was, in fact, he was someone completely different.

Your Kiyoomi was someone kind, funny and even somewhat corny. He was someone who planned the most memorable dates, was always spoiling you, had a picture of you as his wallpaper, wore his promise ring every day, gave you lots of cute petnames and—believe it or not—sent kisses at the end of every phone call when he’s away.

It’s not like he hid how he acted with his girlfriend, which is why so many of his acquaintances were surprised by how much he softened when it came to you, and honestly, that’s one of the many things you loved about him.

You didn’t know why those kinds of thoughts about your boyfriend’s not-so-hidden sweet side were going through your head right now, maybe it was because if someone when you first met the intimidating Sakusa Kiyoomi had told you that someday he’d be your boyfriend and you’d be here, straddling his lap with him lying in the comfort of your bed and he would have a face full of red lipstick stains that you had spread on his smooth skin, you wouldn’t have believed them.

“This is a waste of lipstick.”

You chuckled at your boyfriend’s sudden words that broke the comfortable silence.

“I know.” You pushed aside a strand of hair on his forehead to leave a kiss there and smiled before leaving another on his temple, decorating his skin with new red marks. “But it’s worth it, you look pretty.”

Kiyoomi smiled.

“Do I?” He placed his hand behind your head, stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he looked lovingly into your eyes, and you swore that at that moment it was as if you fell in love with him all over again for the thousandth time.

A sincere smile appeared on your lips and you responded with a small mhm as you brought your face close to his until your noses brushed.

“I think you look pretty too.” Kiyoomi whispered before joining your lips in a kiss.

With his hand on the back of your neck he put a little more pressure to deepen the kiss and the other did the same on your lower back, you buried yours in his dark curls. It was romantically slow, you both just enjoyed the feel of each other’s lips.

It wasn’t until you needed a breath of air that you broke away, but not before giving him a little peck.

You supported yourself on your hands on either side of his head and looked down at your boyfriend, letting out a giggle when you saw that his mouth was completely smeared with red. You thought about commenting on it, but he beat you to it.

“Your mouth is all messy now.” He gently took you by the chin and his thumb wiped under your lips, you knew that this action had surely smeared the lipstick more instead of cleaning it, but you didn’t mind in the least. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You kissed his finger in reassurance before asking, “Ready for round two, Omi?”

“I’m all yours, baby.” He stated, putting his hands behind his head to make himself comfortable on your pillow.

“I like that.” You sat up straight again on his lap and picked up the red lipstick you had left on your nightstand.

Kiyoomi watched with a smitten smile how you applied more lipstick on your lips, getting ready for another round of kisses that he was more than willing to receive.

“You still think this is a waste of lipstick?” You questioned as you leaned in to leave a kiss on his jaw

“Maybe.”

You gasped dramatically and Kiyoomi let out a chuckle.

“But I always can buy you more, you know.” He added and took your hand in his to leave a kiss on your knuckles. “As long as you waste it on me.”

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backoftheletter · 11 months

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i love him:(<33

'should've listened to osamu'

suna rintarou x reader (no pronouns used, reader has hair long enough to tuck it behind their hair.) hope you enjoy! feedback is really appreciated :)

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your friendship (if you could call it that) with suna is strange. he doesn't talk much, prefers to listen to you ramble about things that annoy you or tell him about a new show you recently started watching. he rarely replies or asks questions, mainly just nods his head when you ask him something.

it's not that he doesn't care or he finds you annoying, he just usually doesn't know what to say or he's too busy admiring you. the way your hair falls on your face and how you push it back or tuck it behind your ear, how your eyes shine when you talk about that one book you love so much, how you always try to hide your smile with your hand, which he never understands because it's the prettiest sight ever for him.

"are you even listening to me?" suna is sitting with his head thrown back like he's in pain, eyes closed.

"yeah, you were saying you need to finish your project tonight." it surprises you to see he was, in fact, listening.

"did you finish yours?" he shakes his head. it gets on your nerves, how ignorant and irresponsible he is.

"i can help you, if you promise to buy me lunch tomorrow." he raises his head and opens his eyes at that, grinning. he's shocked and also happy because you always tell him to go away when he asks for help with his homework.

"would you really?" he's so stupid, looks like a kid eating his favorite ice cream happily at the park on a swing with the way he's looking up at you from his seat.

"i want that smoothie with my lunch too. then i'll help." he smiles and raises his pinky, promising to buy those for you tomorrow. he doesn't pull his hand away, so you don't either. if you moved your head, you could see osamu smiling to himself watching you two.

finally letting go of your hand, much to your dismay, suna gets up and suddenly puts his arm around your waist.

"let's go to the library so we can work." you nod and try to look down because you're sure he would make fun of you if he saw your face right now, there's no way you're not blushing, you can literally feel the heat on your cheeks. he presses his hand on your back, signaling you to start walking.

he doesn't leave your side even in the library, and sits right next to you on the puffy sofa. the whole proximity of the situation doesn't help with how warm you already feel but you ignore the feeling. at least try to.

"you have your books with you, right?" he goes through the books in his bag and takes out the one you need and puts it on the table.

"okay, so, let's start here-" your eyes widen when you feel his hand on your chin. he turns your head to face him and you can't help but notice the softness in his gaze.

"you don't need to hide it, i can already see you blushing. plus, you literally tremble every time i touch you." you try to look away in embarrassment but he turns your face back to himself.

"i should have listened to osamu." he sighs and before you know it, his chapped lips are on yours. he smells like strawberries, you notice once you're so close to him. he pulls away and looks into your eyes.

"you like me?" you ask, after taking a deep breath.

"i'm surprised you still haven't noticed, i did everything i can to make you realize because i was too much of a coward to do this until now." you chuckle, "i'm glad you did."

"i am too." he smiles and pecks your lips again.

"if you're just going to kiss, get out of the library!" the worker there huffs. you make a face like you're apologizing and turn to suna.

"let's finish your project first. i don't want a boyfriend with bad grades." he grins at you calling him your boyfriend and opens the book to start his project.

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i really hope there's no mistakes bcs i didn't proofread it, feel free to correct anything wrong! thanks for reading <3

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backoftheletter · 11 months

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"there ya go, just like that, darlin', now bend yer legs a little more- woah there," suna laughs as he catches you smoothly.

"rin," you frown, still wobbling a little on the skateboard, "i can't do this."

"sure ya can, just gotta practice with me a little more, then ya'll be skatin' right along side me."

he attempts to unwrap his arms from you, but you grip him tightly, shaking your head.

you can feel your face burning as you lower your head.

"can you um... hold onto me for a while? i really don't wanna fall."

suna smirks widely.

"sure ya don't just want me to keep holdin' ya, baby?"

you hit his chest.

"rin," you glare up at him, "stop teasing me, i just don't want to fall, dickhead."

"yer so mean to me," suna fake pouts, but his arms stay still.

you take a deep breath and push away, but continue holding onto suna's hand.

"now just push off with yer foot there, yep just like that, ya got it. yer doing so good."

your tongue sticks out in concentration as you attempt to balance while still holding your boyfriend's hand.

for a split second your gliding along the pavement smoothly, then suddenly the board hits a crack and you're pitched forward.

you yelp loudly as suna grunts and stumbles to catch you, rolling over and falling unto his back instead. you land on top of him, fall completely cushioned.

"rin? rin are you okay?!"

"ow," he groans slightly, lifting his head up, "are ya hurt at all?"

"me?!" you shout, slightly panicked at seeing the bloody scrapes on his legs, "what about you?"

you roll off of him and stand up, checking over the rest of his body. suna sits up and inspects his legs.

"i'm fine, s' parta the job description."

"this isn't a job, dummy," your eyes are beginning to water, suna looks at you in shock and stands, cupping your face.

"hey, hey what's wrong, baby? what's got ya upset?"

"i- i hurt you, and i can't stand on the stupid- on the stupid board."

"trust me, i've been hurt way worse than this before, i can show you some of the x-rays later," he chuckles, you look up at him, eyes still a little teary.

"promise you're okay?"

"i promise... ya know what would make me feel a whole lot better though?"

"what?" you sniffle.

"kissin' yes pretty lips."

suna tips his head down and pulls you up into a kiss.

"did it work?" you ask, pulling away and smiling a little.

"can hardly feel it anymore, sweetie."

for: @httpghostface

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backoftheletter · 1 year

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fluff ?? fluff. suna is a pining idiot, horrendously down bad <3 i just wanted to write for hq again :x

suna knows —knew— this is a bad idea. this was a terrible idea. it has a snowball's chance in hell of ever working out. so how the fuck did he let atsumu talk him into doing this?

it's raining, has been for the past fifteen minutes. he doesn't have practice today, which according to atsumu is a sign from the gods this is his chance, suna isn't sure he understands even know as he waits for you.

this is all a big gamble— a toss thrown in the air to see if it lands on the possibility that you forgot to bring an umbrella today. despite knowing this is truly a shitty idea, suna hopes that whatever gods atsumu was talking about listen to him today.

and then he sees you finally making your way towards the exit of the school gates, and as you come to stand next to him, as he glances at you from his peripheral vision, grimacing at the pouring rain and muttering something that sounds like —fuck, why is it raining in may— he thinks holy fuck atsumu was right. this is his day.

he waits, maybe you'll pull out an umbrella from your bag. but you don't, and suna fist bumps internally.

if he waits any longer, he knows it'll only give the moment an air of awkwardness it doesn't need. he needs to get his shit together and stop chickening out already. so he clears his throat, hopefully catching your attention.

“it's really pouring, huh.” he says, and then cringes internally.

“hmm,” you hum, your gaze finding his when you speak, “it really is. i think it's gonna take a while, are you waiting for someone?” you gesture to the umbrella in his hands.

okay, this is it. “oh, not really. i just like the rain.” he cringes for the second time in five minutes.

you chuckle amusingly, and suna feels his heart skip millions of beats in one second, “i like it too, but i don't fancy getting drenched.”

“oh, uhm,” he starts, eyes resting anywhere but you, “we can uh, walk together.”

you smile at him, pretty and kind, “oh, that's alright. you want to watch the rain, right?”

fuck— is this rejection? he wants to say that no, rain is pretty and all but you're beautiful right now as the dampness from the atmosphere makes your skin glisten, he wants to tell you he has been trying for the past year to get your attention, and that he really wants to walk with you.

“i want to walk with you.”

hmm, did he really say that? the words were just playing in his mind— when did they leave his lips as they have a will of their own?

“oh,” you say softly, “okay. let's do that.”

you smile, and suna takes a mental picture of this moment. it almost traps him in a trance. it's only when you step out of the gates, the droplets harshly falling on your clothes that he feels his feet move without his consent, arm automatically reaching out to shelter you from the rain again.

“let's walk together.” you tug him forward by the sleeve of his blazer.

“i was waiting for you.”

he's not sure what exactly is happening— his mind and body aren't in sync with each other, he's doing things without thinking about it. his thoughts are no less than his words, as if the moment they come to mind, they're pulled out by this unexplained force.

“were you?” thankfully you're still smiling at him, and he feels relief wash over him, “that's good.”

“it is?”

“i like your umbrella more than mine.” you answer, and something tells him you're not really talking about umbrellas.

and when he's walking with you, side by side. scooting closer because you noticed his shoulders weren't protected from the rain, he thinks then, that it wasn't intentional, it's just you— the subtle brush of your knuckles against his, the stretch of your lips to a smile he can only call mesmerizing, the lilt in your voice when you say his name. you who frees the words from his throat as if they've been caged. he's not surprised anymore when they leave his lips before he can stop himself— i like you.

suna likes you. he's never been more sure of it. when you only take his hand in yours in response, your smiling lighting up in sheer awe, he has a feeling you also like him a little more than you're letting on.

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