rin notices how insecure you get sometimes about being with someone like him, so he makes it his mission to remind you you’re the only one he wants—through quiet gestures, soft words, and a kind of worship that leaves no room for doubt.
author's note: I forgot to post this rin fic that was saved from my gdocs and this is originally posted in my yukkiji blog
You weren’t the jealous type—not really. It wasn’t in your nature to glare or pout or start fights over attention Rin never asked for. But insecurity? That was harder to tame. It didn’t roar; it whispered, slow and sharp, slipping beneath your skin on the quieter days.
Especially when you were dating him—Rin Itoshi, the dark green-haired, teal-eyed striker with a face made for magazine covers and a talent that left crowds breathless.
He was famous. Handsome. Cold in the kind of way that made people want to chase him harder. Fans worshipped him from the stands and online, their devotion loud and constant. They screamed his name like a prayer. Called him a god. Made edits of his slow-motion goals like art.
And then there was you.
No screaming fans. No arena lights. No carefully curated photoshoots. Just…you. Ordinary, quiet, painfully aware of every flaw no one else probably noticed. You didn’t wear the right things. You never knew what to say when cameras were around. You didn’t glow like the women who tried to flirt with him after matches, didn’t carry yourself with the easy confidence that seemed to come so naturally to everyone who existed in his world.
You were plain, you thought. Forgettable. Someone who could disappear into a crowd and never be missed.
But Rin never looked at you like that.
In his eyes, you were something else entirely.
To Rin, you were perfect.
He never said it in the middle of a press conference. He didn’t flaunt you on social media or kiss you in front of flashing cameras. That just wasn’t him—and you’d never ask him to be something he wasn’t.
But behind closed doors, it was a different story.
When it was just the two of you—no fans, no noise, no pressure—Rin made sure you knew exactly how he felt. Not just with words, but with the way he touched you. Looked at you. Held you like he couldn’t understand how someone so beautiful could ever think she was anything less.
He worshipped you in the quiet. In the dark. In the way only someone deeply, truly in love ever could.
He loves to shower you with affection and compliments. In bed, that turns to soft-spoken praises, murmured against your skin like a prayer.
But every time those compliments leave his mouth, you brush them off with a nervous laugh or a quick change of subject. Sometimes you’d reply with a joking, "You're just saying that," or, "You need glasses, Itoshi Rin."
At first, Rin didn’t comment. He figured you'd warm up to his words over time. But with each dismissal, the quiet frustration inside him grew—not directed at you, never at you—but at himself.
He started to wonder if he wasn’t doing enough, wasn’t saying it enough, wasn’t proving enough just how beautiful you are to him.
Because in Rin’s eyes, you're the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid eyes on.
And he thinks it all the time. Especially when you're just sitting beside him doing absolutely nothing, and he finds himself staring like a man completely gone.
Sometimes, when you’re not looking, he even thinks: How the hell did I end up with her?
So after one of his games—one where he scored a winning goal and the crowd screamed his name until the stadium trembled—he asked you out on a quiet dinner date. Just the two of you. No cameras. No fans. Just peace.
You were hesitant. “Rin, aren’t you tired? We don’t have to—”
“I’m fine,” he said, brushing his knuckles along your cheek. “I want to. I already made reservations.”
You blinked. “Reservations?”
He just nodded, eyes not leaving yours. “Rooftop. Private. Just trust me.”
Later, when you stepped out of the hotel bathroom in the soft formal dress he picked for you—one in your favorite color, with subtle details you adored—his breath hitched audibly.
“You really bought this?” you asked, smoothing your hands over the fabric.
“Yeah,” he said, eyes dragging slowly over your frame. “Wanted to see you in it.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,” he cut in, walking up to you. His hands settled on your waist. “You look… unreal.”
You smiled shyly, ready to downplay it again, but he leaned in closer, voice low. “Don’t say anything. Just let me look at you for a second.”
The way he said it… like he meant every syllable. Like he was trying to memorize you.
Once the evening wound down and the soft jazz of the rooftop faded into the background, the two of you made your way back to the hotel room. The hallway was quiet, dimly lit, the elevator ride silent save for the occasional brush of Rin’s fingers against yours—calculated, familiar, comforting.
He unlocked the door with a soft beep, letting you in first.
You kicked off your night mentally before physically—sighing as you stepped into the serene warmth of the room. The city skyline framed the windows with streaks of amber light and shadows. Your body ached slightly from the heels and the wine, and you made your way toward the bed, sitting down at the edge to finally take them off.
But before you could even bend down—
“Wait,” Rin said, voice quiet but firm. He knelt down in front of you without waiting for permission.
“Rin, I got it—”
“I said wait,” he murmured, already reaching for the buckle of your heel. His fingers moved slowly, undoing the straps with such care it made you shiver. “Let me.”
You stared at him, lips parted slightly, watching the top of his head as he focused entirely on such a simple task—gentle, almost reverent.
Once both shoes were off, he placed them aside, then lifted one of your feet to press a soft kiss to your ankle. His lips lingered there, then trailed up to your shin, soft and slow.
“You shouldn’t wear heels that high,” he murmured into your skin. “Your feet will hurt tomorrow.”
You huffed a laugh. “I looked good, though.”
“You always do,” he replied, looking up at you finally. “But you don’t need to do anything extra.”
You opened your mouth to protest again, and he caught it, his hands resting firmly on your knees now, leaning in with narrowed eyes.
“I mean it,” Rin said, voice lower, more serious now. “You’re beautiful just like this. You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”
Heat spread in your cheeks. Your gaze flicked away, but his hand gently reached up to hold your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.
“Say thank you,” he added with a small smirk.
You squinted. “You’re annoying.”
“And you’re avoiding.”
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours—slow and warm, tasting faintly of red wine and that unspoken craving he never seemed to hide when it came to you. One of his hands moved up your thigh, the other pressing lightly against your waist as he deepened the kiss.
When he pulled back, his voice was low against your lips.
“I should’ve canceled the whole dinner and just eaten you instead,” he whispered.
You hit his arm lightly, rolling your eyes. “You already promised dinner, so we went.”
He grinned, hands still teasing along your sides.
“And now,” Rin murmured, dipping to press kisses along your neck, “I get dessert.”
A soft sigh escaped your lips as his mouth found a spot he knew all too well—just under your jaw, where your pulse fluttered. He sucked gently, slow and deliberate, until a soft pink bruise bloomed beneath his lips.
You could feel the smirk against your skin.
He pulled back to look at it, satisfied. “There. Now it’s obvious you’re mine.”
He met your gaze again, eyes dark and half-lidded with want, and leaned back in—kissing you with a possessive sweetness that stole the air from your lungs. His fingers trailed to the back of your dress, finding the zipper.
“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he whispered against your lips.
The sound of the zipper coming down filled the space between you, quiet but loud in the still room. Rin moved slowly, unzipping it with an almost reverent pace—like you were something delicate, to be unwrapped gently.
Once the dress loosened around your shoulders, he pulled back slightly, eyes scanning your face.
“Lie down for me,” he said softly.
You did as he asked, easing back onto the bed, your heart already thudding in anticipation. Rin followed immediately, his weight warm and grounding as he hovered over you. He brushed your hair away from your face with the backs of his fingers, his eyes drinking in every detail like he couldn’t believe you were really his.
Slowly, he slid the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders, one at a time. His lips followed their path—pressing gentle kisses against your skin as he peeled the fabric away, inch by inch. First your shoulders. Then the slope of your collarbones. Then lower, his mouth moving in time with his hands until your dress was down to your waist and your chest fully exposed to him.
Rin’s breath hitched softly, and for a second, he just stared.
Then his lips curved into a reverent smirk. “Fuck… you're perfect.”
He dipped down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, hot and eager, sucking just hard enough to make your back arch slightly. His hand came up to cup your other breast, his thumb brushing slow circles over your sensitive skin while his mouth worshipped the other.
“Mine,” he murmured against you, voice low and muffled. “You’re mine… all mine.”
You gasped as he switched sides, lavishing equal attention to the other, letting his teeth graze just enough to make you tremble.
“So soft,” he whispered, dragging his tongue in slow swirls. “So beautiful… fuck, you're unreal.”
His free hand roamed the rest of your body like he needed to memorize it all again—the curve of your waist, the warmth of your skin, the slight shiver of anticipation under his touch.
You threaded your fingers into his hair, tugging gently, and he groaned—low and deep in his throat.
“Say it,” he whispered between kisses, now trailing lower, toward your stomach. “Tell me you're mine.”
“You already know I am,” you breathed out, dazed from the way he was touching you.
He smirked as he looked up at you from where he hovered, now between your thighs.
“I like hearing it anyway,” he said, voice husky.
And with that, he sank lower—intent on showing you just how much he adored you.
Once Rin finally bottomed out, buried completely inside you, he let out a low, guttural groan against your neck. The heat of his breath ghosted over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as your walls fluttered around him in response.
His hands tightened on your hips, holding himself there, completely still, like he was trying not to lose control too soon. The stretch still pulsed inside of you, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. It wasn’t new.
“Rin…” you whispered, voice breathless. “You can move.”
He lifted his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he met your gaze. Then, with a small nod, he rolled his hips back and began to thrust slowly.
His pace was unhurried—intimate. Each drag of his length pulled a gasp from your lips, every movement sending waves of pleasure through your already-sensitive body.
It wasn’t the first time you’d done this with Rin. You’d been bare to him before—naked and vulnerable in the soft glow of the night. There had been hotel beds, post-match reunions, quiet moments in your shared apartment… times when you’d tangled limbs and kissed until dawn. You had given yourself to him more times than you could count.
But tonight felt different.
Maybe it was the way he looked at you—like there was no one else in the world. Or the way he held your face as he moved inside you, kissing your temple, brushing your hair back with a tenderness that made your heart ache.
“You feel so good,” he murmured, voice strained as he picked up his rhythm just slightly. “Like you were made for me.”
Your nails dug into his back, dragging down with each slow thrust that pushed the breath out of your lungs. “Rin…”
He swallowed hard, pressing his forehead to yours. “Say it again.”
“Made for you,” you breathed, kissing him between the words. “Only you.”
Rin groaned, thrusting deeper now, his hips meeting yours with more urgency. But even as the rhythm built, it still wasn’t rushed. He fucked you like he had all the time in the world to memorize the way your body responded to him. Like he wanted to worship you with every drag, every kiss, every whispered praise.
“You’re everything,” he muttered, lips brushing yours. “You don’t even know what you do to me.”
And God, you felt it. In every slow grind of his hips, every breathless moan he pulled from your mouth, every time he whispered your name like it was sacred.
Rin moved with a kind of unhurried precision that made your chest ache, his touch warm and grounding as he molded himself against you like he belonged there. He didn’t chase the moment—instead, he worshipped the way you gasped every time he rolled his hips just right, memorizing the way your lashes fluttered and your lips parted to let out a soft cry whenever he pushed deeper, slower, firmer, as though he had all the time in the world to make you fall apart.
“Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and thick with affection as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his breath brushing your skin like a secret. “So pretty like this…my pretty girl.”
The name made your entire body pulse in response—your legs tightening around his waist, your hands fisting in the sheets as a needy sound escaped your throat. It was always like that, always that phrase, the one that slipped past his lips like instinct, like truth, like something he meant more than anything else in the world. And every time he said it, your body responded before your mind could catch up—clenching around him so suddenly that it pulled a low groan straight from his chest.
“God,” he breathed, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You feel that? You’re squeezing me so tight… Every time I call you that—you love it, don’t you?”
You couldn’t answer—not with how your brain fogged the moment his hips picked up a steadier rhythm, the slow, indulgent pace giving way to something deeper, more urgent, though still tender. Each thrust built upon the last, coaxing your pleasure upward in gradual waves, the heat coiling low in your belly beginning to spark toward something brighter, something impossible to hold back.
He kissed you then—not rushed or messy, but deep and reverent, as if he could press every word he didn’t say directly into your mouth. Your fingers found the nape of his neck and curled there, holding him close while his name broke from your lips in a whisper, soft and choked and trembling with need.
“Doing so good for me,” he whispered against your lips, nudging his forehead against yours as he pushed in again, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. “Just like that, pretty girl. You always take me so well.”
The pace grew steadily more insistent, but never harsh—Rin’s movements remained fluid and controlled, guided entirely by the sounds you made and the way your body moved with his. He watched every flicker of emotion on your face, as though he wanted to remember each one for the rest of his life. You felt so full of him, so utterly consumed in every sense, and when his hand slid down between your bodies to touch you—gentle, coaxing, sure—you shattered.
The pleasure surged like a tide that had been waiting at the edge for too long, crashing through you with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. Your back arched sharply, mouth falling open in a cry as your release spilled out of you, the rush of sensation making your thighs tremble as you clenched tightly around him, even wetter now with the warmth that gushed between you.
Rin gasped at the sudden feeling, eyes wide, but he didn’t stop—not for a second. He held you through it, gritting his teeth as he slowed his thrusts just enough to help you ride the wave, his hand gripping your waist to steady you as you convulsed around him, leaving a wet mess beneath you both. He kissed you again, slower this time, brushing his lips across yours like he could soothe the intensity even as your body continued to twitch beneath him.
“That's it—let it all out, pretty girl. You’re so beautiful when you come for me,” he murmured, and you felt it again—that ache in your chest that had nothing to do with lust and everything to do with the way he looked at you like there was nothing else he wanted more than this. Than you.
You were still dazed, blinking away tears that had gathered from the force of it, when he pressed his forehead against yours again, breathing heavily now, his body tight with restraint. He didn’t chase his own release until he knew you had yours—until he felt you go soft and warm beneath him, your legs loose around his waist and your hands clinging to his shoulders like they were your anchor.
When he finally let go, it was with a low, shaky groan as he buried himself fully inside you, the warmth of his release spilling into you and filling you to the brim. You felt every pulse of it, his body pressed flush against yours as he held you close, trembling slightly from the effort of holding back for so long.
“God, you feel like home,” he whispered, voice unsteady, and then—because he knew what it did to you—he said it again, right next to your ear, in that soft, possessive way he saved only for you. “My pretty girl.”
And just like that, even though the storm had passed, your body fluttered again around him—gentle, involuntary, as if his words alone could draw out one last echo of the pleasure he had given you.
Rin didn’t move for a long time. He stayed inside you, holding you close, letting the warmth of your shared breath fill the quiet space between your bodies. He traced slow, lazy patterns against your spine, brushing away the damp strands of hair at your nape, kissing your skin like a promise.
And when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you—cheeks flushed, eyes glassy, lips kiss-swollen—he smiled in that small, quiet way that broke you every time.
“You always do that,” he murmured, thumbing the corner of your mouth gently. “You ruin me without even trying.”
You laughed—soft, exhausted, but happy—and reached up to touch his cheek.
“I could say the same thing about you.”
Rin’s eyes searched yours, still heavy with affection and that lingering haze of desire. His thumb brushed along your jawline before he leaned in to kiss you again—slow, deep, and tender, like a silent vow.
As your lips parted, you heard him murmur against your mouth, “Another round.”
Before you could even react, Rin shifted beneath you and effortlessly pulled you on top of him, settling you into his lap. The warm press of his hands on your hips steadied you, grounding you in his presence.
“I’m gonna show you just how beautiful you are,” he said, voice low and steady, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. “Every part of you. Every sound you make. Every time you look at me like that.”
Your breath caught as he looked up at you, eyes dark and soft all at once.
“We’ve got all night, pretty girl,” he whispered, voice dipping into that velvety, coaxing tone that always left you aching for more. “Let me love you slowly. Again. And again.”
You felt yourself clench around nothing at the nickname—pretty girl—your body reacting to it before your mind even caught up. Rin noticed, of course he did, and his lips curved into a lazy, knowing smile.
“Oh?” he murmured, thumbs grazing soft circles into your thighs. “You really like that, huh? My pretty girl.”
Your breath shuddered at how gently he said it, like it was both a compliment and a promise.
And with your legs on either side of him, your hands braced against his chest, you leaned down and whispered back, “Then show me, Rin.”
Rin’s eyes didn’t leave yours for a second. One hand gripped your waist with a grounding firmness, the other slid between your bodies, curling around the base of his length. He guided himself to your entrance with a care that made your breath hitch, brushing against your folds in a slow, teasing stroke.
"Just relax, pretty girl," he murmured, the name falling from his lips like worship. "Let me in."
You did. You sank down on him with a stuttered gasp, your hands trembling slightly against his chest as the stretch made your walls flutter around him. He let out a low groan at the feeling, his head tipping back for a moment before his gaze snapped back to you—hungry, reverent.
“Fuck... always so tight for me,” he breathed, voice thick with awe. “You take me so well.”
You whimpered softly, your hips adjusting, your body gradually molding around him until you were fully seated. Every inch filled, every nerve ending singing. Rin’s hands cradled your hips as he whispered, “That’s it. Just like that. My beautiful girl.”
The moment stilled, just for a beat—your foreheads pressed together, breath shared in the space between. Then you began to move, slowly at first. A gentle roll of your hips, the subtle drag of him inside you sparking heat in your lower belly.
His praises didn’t stop.
“So perfect,” he whispered, brushing his thumbs over your waist as he helped guide your rhythm. “Every time. You feel like heaven.”
You moaned, and he felt you clench. He smirked.
“Ohh… you really love when I say that, don’t you?” he said, kissing the corner of your mouth. “My pretty girl. My gorgeous girl.”
You clenched again—harder this time—and Rin’s hips bucked up slightly as a sharp breath escaped him.
“God, you drive me insane,” he muttered, voice shaky as the pace began to build. Your thighs trembled slightly as your rhythm sped up, the slick sound of skin meeting skin filling the room, paired with soft moans and whispered gasps.
Rin’s hands slid up your body, large palms cupping your breasts before he began to knead them—slow, purposeful, like he wanted to memorize the feel of you. His thumbs brushed over your nipples until they peaked, drawing a needy whimper from your throat.
"Sensitive, huh?" he murmured, smirking when your hips faltered from the stimulation. “Even your tits are so pretty and full.”
Your breath caught as he leaned forward, mouth hot against your skin before he took one of your breasts into his mouth. His tongue swirled around your nipple, then flicked it teasingly, sucking just enough to make your body arch into him. His other hand never stopped its gentle torment—pinching, rolling, making your pulse race under your skin.
You gasped, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging as pleasure sparked down your spine.
“Rin—ah—”
He groaned at the way you moaned his name, and his hand on your back pulled you closer, pressing your chest against his mouth as he sucked harder. The wet heat of his tongue sent another rush of arousal through you, your walls fluttering around him again.
“You feel that?” he growled against your skin. “How you’re clenching around me every time I touch you like this?”
He pulled back for a second to meet your eyes—his mouth glistening, his expression dark and adoring all at once.
“Let me ruin you, baby.”
His voice was low, dark, filled with a promise that made your whole body shiver.
And then—he did exactly that.
Rin thrust up harder, deeper, burying himself to the hilt, stretching you deliciously full as a broken moan tumbled from your lips. His pace wasn’t fast, but every roll of his hips was heavy with intent—grinding up into you, dragging against every sensitive part inside you like he already knew what made your body fall apart.
At the same time, his mouth latched onto your other nipple, hot and greedy. His tongue swirled slow, teasing circles around the soft peak before flicking it with precision, suckling with just enough pressure to send heat pooling lower in your belly. Meanwhile, the breast he had already given attention to wasn’t forgotten—his hand moved up to cup and toy with it, thumb brushing over your sensitive bud with a practiced, lazy rhythm that made your back arch instinctively.
Your hands flew to his hair, tangled in the soft dark strands as you pulled him closer, needing him impossibly nearer. You buried his face deeper into your chest, and he let you—he loved when you got like this, needy and breathless and so full of him.
He groaned at your desperation, a muffled, low sound that vibrated through his chest and directly into your skin.
That moan made your walls flutter around him.
“Oh—Rin,” you gasped, hips rocking involuntarily in response. “Feels so good…”
He growled softly in response, clearly affected by the way you clenched around his cock, still buried deep and pulsing inside you. His lips trailed across the valley of your chest, wet kisses leaving a glistening trail as he made his way back to your neck, where he bit down gently—just enough to make you yelp, before soothing the sting with his tongue.
“All mine,” he murmured, voice raspy. “You hear me?”
You nodded quickly, too drunk on his touch to find words, your breath stuttering every time his hips rolled upward and his fingers gave your breast another teasing pinch.
But Rin wasn’t done yet.
He shifted slightly beneath you, adjusting his angle, and you felt the head of his cock brush against that sensitive spot inside you just right. He didn’t rush it—he took his time, drawing his hips back just enough so you could feel every inch of him when he slid in again, slow and deep and perfect.
“God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he groaned, hand slipping from your chest to your hip to steady you, guiding your rhythm as you rocked against him. “So fucking wet for me, baby. You like it when I take my time with you, don’t you?”
You nodded helplessly, nails digging into his shoulders, lips parted in a silent moan as you felt his teeth graze the shell of your ear.
“Want to feel every part of you,” he whispered, hot breath making you shiver. “Want you begging by the time I let you cum.”
His hands moved again—one trailing down to your ass, gripping and kneading, guiding you to grind against him in slow, tight circles. The other slid up your back to hold you close, skin flush to skin, as his lips found your neck again, nipping and sucking until your head fell back.
You were melting under him, overstimulated and still starving for more.
“Such a perfect body,” he muttered, kissing along your jaw, then dragging his mouth back to your breasts again, where he alternated between soft kisses and messy sucking, tongue flicking lazily while his hips never stopped moving beneath you.
You were grinding down into him now, chasing friction where your clit brushed against his lower stomach with every roll of your hips. Your thighs trembled from the effort, from the heat that was quickly building into something dizzying.
And Rin felt it. He knew.
“You close already?” he smirked against your skin, thumb circling the pebbled peak of your breast. “But I haven’t even gotten started on you yet.”
He thrust up again, slower this time—but deeper, angling his hips until he hit that spot that made your vision blur.
“You’re gonna fall apart for me so many times tonight, baby,” he whispered, voice low and dangerous as his teeth scraped your collarbone. “So don’t you dare cum yet.”
He caught your lips in a kiss, breath ragged and tongue tasting every whimper you gave him as you writhed in his grip—your body aching, desperate, almost there.
But not yet.
Not until he said so.
Rin’s hips rocked up into you in deep, deliberate strokes, his breath fanning warm against your lips as he kissed you slow and unhurried. Every movement was measured—like he wanted you to feel everything.
His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit with practiced ease. The moment he touched you there, your whole body jerked in response.
“Ngh… Rin!” you cried out, head falling back as your thighs trembled around his hips. Your hands gripped his shoulders as your rhythm faltered, chasing the wave of pleasure rising too fast.
He smirked, but it was gentle, not teasing—softened by the fondness in his eyes as he leaned in to press butterfly kisses along the side of your neck. His lips brushed lightly over your skin, reverent in their worship.
“You always sound so good when you say my name,” he murmured. “So sweet… so pretty.”
Your cheeks burned. You tried to bury your face into the crook of his neck to hide the warmth flooding your expression, but Rin noticed—he always noticed.
“You always say stuff like that,” you mumbled, voice breathless but laced with something vulnerable. “But don’t say it. It’s not true.”
His hand paused between your thighs, and so did his hips.
Rin pulled back just enough to look at you. His gaze wasn’t annoyed—it was pained, confused, like your words reached deeper than you meant them to.
“…Why do you always do that?” he asked, quiet. “Deny it, every time I compliment you.”
You didn’t answer right away, biting your lip as your eyes drifted to the side. “I just… I don’t see myself the way you do, I guess.”
He gently cupped your face, thumb brushing your cheek as he tilted your gaze back to him.
“I get so frustrated,” he whispered. “Not at you—never at you. But at myself. Because if you can’t see how beautiful you are… then maybe I haven’t done enough to show you. To make you believe it.”
“Rin…” you started, but he didn’t let you speak just yet.
“I don’t mean just your face or your body—though you are stunning,” he said, voice low and sincere. “I mean the way you smile when you think no one’s looking. The way your eyes light up when you’re talking about something you love. The way you laugh like it’s the most natural sound in the world, and I swear I’d bottle it up if I could.”
He ran a hand slowly down your side, as if memorizing the shape of you all over again. “You’re so damn beautiful, and I hate that you can’t see it. Because I see it every day. In every moment.”
You swallowed thickly, heart aching from the weight of his words.
“And when you’re like this…” he added, his hand sliding back between your thighs. You gasped as his fingers resumed their slow circles on your clit, perfectly in sync with the roll of his hips. “Dripping for me just from hearing me call you my pretty girl—how could I ever think you’re anything less than perfect?”
You whimpered, overwhelmed, burying your face in his neck.
“You’re everything to me,” he whispered. “And I need you to believe it—not just when I’m inside you. Not just when I’m praising you. But every time you wake up. Every time you doubt yourself. I’ll say it again and again until it sinks in.”
His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, holding you close as your bodies moved together, slick and slow and warm. He pressed soft kisses to your temple, your cheek, your shoulder—everywhere he could reach.
“Let me show you how wanted you are,” he murmured. “Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved.”
You nodded against him, words caught in your throat, body trembling under his touch.
“Just like that,” he whispered, voice rough with emotion and desire. “You’re so beautiful like this. So soft. So good for me.”
Your body arched into him as you felt yourself inching closer to the edge, overwhelmed not just by pleasure—but by him. His tenderness. His sincerity. His love.
And through it all, Rin didn’t stop praising you—not once.
The familiar knot in your stomach began to tighten, your body trembling as each thrust hit deeper, more precise—like Rin knew your body better than you did.
“Rin… c-close,” you whimpered, voice catching in your throat as the heat coiled low in your belly. You tossed your head back, spine arching beautifully beneath him.
Your moan echoed in the room, breathless and soaked in need.
Rin groaned at the sound, his grip tightening around your waist. “That’s it,” he rasped, lips brushing your jaw. “Let go for me. I’ve got you, baby.”
He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, sweat mixing between your skin as he stared into your eyes—like he didn’t want to miss the moment you came undone.
“Don’t hold back,” he whispered, voice trembling with restraint. “I want to see you fall apart. I want to watch how good I make you feel.”
Your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails raking slightly down his back as your body tightened around him, your climax dangerously close.
“Fuck—you feel so good,” he groaned. “So tight, so warm… You’re perfect, you know that?”
You whimpered again, barely able to think, let alone respond.
“Look at me,” he said softly, cupping your cheek with one hand as his thrusts slowed just a little, pushing deeper instead of faster. “I wanna see those pretty eyes when you come.”
You barely managed to meet his gaze through the haze—only to fall harder when you saw the love in his expression. Not just lust, but adoration.
“Come for me, angel,” Rin breathed, kissing your lips as his thumb pressed tighter against your clit. “Be my good girl. Show me how much you love this.”
And with a broken cry, you shattered.
Your body locked up before quaking violently in his arms, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. Your walls pulsed around him in rhythmic spasms, and Rin groaned deeply at the feeling, pressing his hips flush against you to ride it out.
“That’s it,” he whispered, kissing your temple as you trembled. “So beautiful. So fucking perfect.”
Your legs wrapped tighter around him, clinging to the warmth of his body as you panted, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the sheer intensity.
“I’ve got you,” Rin murmured again, over and over like a mantra. “You did so good for me, baby.”
Rin’s thrusts didn’t stop even as your body trembled beneath him, still sensitive from your release. If anything, he moved with more urgency now—his rhythm erratic, rougher around the edges as he chased his own high.
“Shit…” he groaned, voice low and strained, “you feel so good—fuck, I’m not gonna last.”
You whimpered at the overstimulation, but held him close, letting him use your warmth as he needed. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, breath ragged and heavy.
Then, with a low, broken moan, Rin finally bottomed out—his hips pressing flush against yours as he buried himself to the hilt. His body tensed above you, muscles flexing with the force of his release.
“F-Fuck—you’re mine,” he gasped, the words escaping like a confession as he came deep inside you. “All of you… all mine.”
You felt the warmth spread through your core as he spilled into you, his hips twitching slightly with each wave of pleasure that overtook him.
He stayed like that for a moment—buried deep, breathing hard, heart pounding against your chest. One of his hands found yours and laced your fingers together, grounding himself in your touch.
Then he whispered, softer this time. “You always make me lose control, you know that?”
Your body was still tingling, your mind hazy, but you managed a tired smile. “You make me feel loved.”
Rin slowly lifted his head, brushing your hair back from your face as he looked at you—really looked at you. His voice cracked with sincerity when he spoke again.
“You are loved. Every part of you,” he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips. “And I’m never going to stop showing you that. Not with words, not with touches… not even with the way I look at you.”
Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, heartbeat drumming in your ears while the room buzzed with the afterglow of everything you'd just shared. Rin hovered above you, his forehead pressed to yours, strands of damp hair falling over his eyes as sweat cooled on his temples.
Neither of you spoke. Not at first.
The silence was thick with everything unspoken—love, longing, vulnerability, awe.
He was still inside you, deep and warm, his release nestled within you, and even though your body trembled from overstimulation, you didn’t want him to move. You held onto him like he might vanish if you let go, fingers buried in the nape of his neck as he breathed into your mouth.
Then he leaned down and kissed your forehead. Once. Twice. Soft, almost sacred.
“You’re unbelievable,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice a rasp against your skin. “Fucking perfect.”
You didn’t answer, couldn’t. All you could do was stare up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, your limbs boneless beneath his weight, your body still wrapped tightly around his.
His hands began to move—slow and deliberate—sliding beneath your back. You shivered when his fingers brushed your skin, then melted when he started to knead gently into the base of your spine.
“Mmn… Rin…” you sighed, a low moan slipping past your lips. The sensation was too much yet not enough, and your overstimulated nerves sparked under his careful touch.
“I know, baby,” he murmured. “I know you're sore. Let me help.”
With one hand supporting your lower back and the other drawing soothing circles up along your spine, Rin shifted his weight slightly—not enough to pull out, just enough to adjust the angle. He was still nestled deep inside you, softening, but you could feel the occasional twitch of his cock as your walls involuntarily clenched around him.
“Still holding onto me so tight,” he whispered, voice tinged with quiet pride. “Like your body doesn’t want to let me go.”
You could only whimper in response, body trembling from the mix of sensitivity and the soft intimacy of his hands working over your muscles.
His fingertips pressed gently into the knots at your shoulder blades, and you exhaled, sinking into the mattress beneath you.
“You always get so tense here,” he said, voice low as he continued the massage. “Is it from work? Or from carrying the weight of being so fucking beautiful all the time?”
You let out a half-laugh, weakly swatting at his arm. “That was the worst line I’ve ever heard.”
“Yeah? Still worked, didn’t it?” He leaned down to nip playfully at your jaw before trailing kisses along your neck. “You’re so easy to fluster after sex.”
You groaned, both at the massage and the way he refused to let your heart slow down. “Sensitive,” you mumbled. “You’re making it worse.”
“You love it.” He pressed his lips to your shoulder, then down your back, mouthing at the skin like you were made of something delicate. “You love when I touch you like this. Talk to you like this.”
You sighed deeply as he moved his hands lower, thumbs pressing into your hips, careful not to shift his weight too much as he remained inside of you.
And you did love it.
This part. The soft after. The way he didn’t rush to clean up or roll away. The way he touched you not just to satisfy a need—but to remind you that he saw you, held you, cherished you. Worshipped you in ways words could never fully express.
Your fingers curled against his shoulder blades as his thumbs rubbed slow circles along your lower back, drawing out the tension from your muscles. You felt every exhale against your skin, every tender murmur against your shoulder.
“I could stay like this forever,” Rin muttered, more to himself than to you, as his hand slid back up your spine, soothing every inch he’d touched.
You turned your head slightly to kiss the edge of his jaw. “Then don’t move.”
He smiled against your temple, wrapping both arms beneath you so he could cradle your body more securely. “I won’t. I’m not going anywhere.”
With his softening cock still inside you, your body cradled beneath his, and the quiet lull of his fingers massaging every sore spot he could find, you felt like you were floating.
You let out a quiet breath as you nuzzled closer, still wrapped in the afterglow with Rin nestled deep inside you. His hand continued to stroke your back in lazy, affectionate circles, the rhythm slow and grounding. Your cheek rested against his shoulder, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft hum of his breath.
“You’re quiet,” Rin murmured, his lips brushing your hairline as he spoke.
You smiled faintly, lips curving against his skin. “Just… happy,” you whispered.
Rin’s hand paused on your back before sliding up to cradle the base of your skull, his fingers weaving gently into your hair.
“You should see how you look right now,” he said, voice low and thick with adoration. “Completely beautiful. Like you were made to be held like this.”
You lifted your head slightly, your eyes meeting his. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s true,” he said simply. “Every time. Every damn time I look at you.”
You felt the flush rise in your cheeks, but you didn’t look away this time. Rin’s expression was so open, so honest—like you were the only thing he saw in the world right now.
He ran a thumb gently across your cheek, then down your jaw. “You should see what I see. The way your eyes shine when you talk about something you love. The way you laugh when you think no one’s watching. The way you touch me like you’re scared I’ll disappear.”
You bit your lip gently, gaze soft. “You’re not going anywhere… right?”
He smiled, slow and fond. “Not even if the world ends. I’m right here. With you.”
Your smile deepened, warm and shy, and Rin couldn’t help but grin as he leaned up to kiss it—soft and slow.
“I mean it,” he said, brushing your hair back from your face. “You're stunning. Inside and out. Not just when we’re like this, but when you're working hard, when you’re wearing your ratty old pajamas, when you're annoyed at me for leaving my socks on the floor.”
You snorted a little. “Because you do leave your socks everywhere.”
He laughed too, pressing a quick kiss to your nose. “Exactly. And you still love me.”
He shifted slightly beneath you, adjusting you in his lap without slipping out of you. His hands rested on your waist, warm and firm, thumbs brushing the curve of your hips.
“You’re my peace,” he said. “The one place I never have to perform, never have to prove anything. With you, I just get to be… me.”
You leaned in, forehead against his, your smile soft and full. “And you’re my favorite place to be.”
Rin’s eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.
“I love you,” he said again, quieter this time, like a vow. “And I’ll keep reminding you how beautiful you are—until you finally believe it too.”
You didn’t say anything back. You didn’t have to. You just kissed him—slow and full of everything words couldn’t say—as you stayed wrapped around each other, skin to skin, soul to soul.
And Rin kept rubbing your back gently, whispering little praises in your ear like they were your favorite lullaby.
Itoshi Rin was a composed and disciplined guy, everyone was aware of that.
It didn't matter if he was on the field or anywhere else in the world, his expression was monotonous and so was the rest of his life out of soccer.
That was, until you came.
It began with subtle grins, a red hue on his cheeks whenever you complimented him, and the slight widening of his eyelids when he talked to you. On one precious day, he even bought you a bouquet of lavenders, as he thought roses were too cliché; but it went no further than that. He was still Itoshi Rin, still as careful and delicate with his love as possible. And though you were the opposite, you loved him for it.
Your friends would always complain, and ask you whether he even loved you or not. It was reasonable as in public he never made his relationship obvious, only you were allowed to savour his scarce softness.
Behind the walls, it was no more than gentle pecks on eachothers lips or watching movies together on his obnoxiously large television. You didn't have the courage to ask Rin for more, and he didn't seem like he wanted more, or rather hid his desires.
One saturday night, you decided that you were going to break the unspoken rule.
"Hey.. Rin?"
You turned to him, but his eyes were glued to the soccer match you both were watching beforehand.
"Yeah? What is it?"
He replied, his gaze still on one of the players on the field, with pink hair and eyes not unlike his own.
"I wanted to ask if.. i could stay over tonight."
He suddenly tensed up, his turquoise hues finally fixating themselves upon you. He tried to keep a straight face but his ears were already turning a deep red. It made you smile, realising that the boy wanted this no less than you.
"Uh.. S-Sure."
That was the first time you had heard Itoshi Rin stutter.
His bed was well kept, and his room was much cleaner than yours. You stared at the back of his hair while he looked for something comfortable that you could wear for the night.
He tossed over a pale green shirt and black shorts, both too large for you, but you weren't complaining. He left the room without a word, closing the door behind him, giving you the privacy to change your clothes. After changing and putting your old clothes into your bag, you opened the door and allowed him to come in.
Now you both were sitting on the side of the bed, no words exchanged. You rested your chin on your hand, legs crossed while Rin sat hunched over with his hands near your figure. The awkwardness was intense, you could cut it with a knife.
But just as you were about deem the night as an embarrassment, he scooted over, his arm now around your waist, and ears beaming as red as ever. And you wouldn't lie, your cheeks were red too. Rin was holding your waist for the first time ever.
The waist-holding unfolded into a bundle of shared kisses, and then laying down together on his bed. But it felt as if it ended there, both of you had enough distance to fill another person in between, and Rin was staring at the lamp on the right corner of his room, as if deciding what to do next.
You on the other hand, was fidgeting with your hands whilst cursing at yourself for letting the romantic moment end. You say upright, knees touching your chest, the movement ruined the perfect bedsheet by giving it wrinkles but it was too subtle for you to notice. Your gaze went towards him and then back to your knees, towards the man again and then back to your knees, towards your boyfri-
"Can we cuddle?"
Rin requested, face straight and body turned towards you. One hand below the side of his head and the other resting on his white sheets, you couldn't tell if he was flustered anymore, but you sure were.
"Oh! Alright!!"
You exclaimed. the tension faded away once again as you engulfed yourself into his embrace, he rest his head over yours as he traced circles on your back, you buried your face in his chest, avoiding eye contact at all costs.
You don't remember much after that, but you're sure you fell asleep in his arms.
You had never seen Itoshi Rin like this, not until now.
ft. yoichi isagi, meguru bachira, rin itoshi, seishiro nagi, reo mikage, ryusei shidou & shouei barou
warnings: none
it first slips without him realizing. you’re watching him play during a match, cheering him on like you always do with a big smile and your eyes only focused on him— before he catches himself, the words “they’re mine.” blurt out of isagi’s lips.
his face flushes in crimson color the moment he hears himself, but he doesn’t take it back. if anything, he stands a little straighter, not breaking eye contact at all. you look at him like he’s the only thing that matters.
and to him, you are.
“mine~!” bachira giggles as he jumps onto your back without hesitation, arms locked around your neck from behind as he nuzzles his cheek against yours. “you’re my favorite person ever.” you laugh a little, used to his energy by now. but he looks up at you longer this time.
“i mean it,” he adds, softly. “you’re mine, okay?” and just like that, his grin returns as he gets off of you, but only to swiftly pick you up bridal style and spin you around while your laughter fills the room.
you’re sitting beside rin, shoulder to shoulder, as you watch the sky together. it’s peaceful. quiet. until rin suddenly mutters, “you’re mine.” which makes you blink in surprise, turning your head slightly to look at him. except rin doesn’t meet your gaze, instead keeping his eyes locked on the horizon. though you don’t miss how his ears are tinged with pink.
“just...don’t forget that.”
you play around on nagi’s phone, lounging on the couch while he naps next to you. or so you thought, until he reaches out and lazily places his hand on your thigh. “hey...” he mumbles sleepily, eyes still half-lidded. “don’t let anyone else touch you like this.”
you raise a brow in confusion, but before you could reply, he yawns. “you’re mine. too much hassle to let someone else have you.”
at an event with reo, he’s got an arm around your waist, that perfectly polished smile on his face while showing you off. but when someone looks at you a second too long, you feel his hand tighten ever so slightly.
“they’re mine.” he tells said person off with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. later, in private, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder with a satisfied sigh.
“you know i meant that, right? i don’t want to share. not even a little.”
it happens after you patch shidou up from a fight he had on the field. he sits on the bench as you ordered him to, watching you with something between fascination or obsession. “you know...” he starts, a smirk forming on his lips despite having blood on them. “you’re mine now. that’s how this works, right?”
you only scoff, stepping away a little to avoid him from getting unhinged further. but he leans in just a bit closer. “yeah. definitely mine.”
barou grumbles after catching you steal a fry off his plate, hiding it behind your back to make it seem like you didn’t do anything. you stare at him with an innocent smile, “what, gonna bite me next?” you ask. “don’t tempt me.” you laugh at his words— but he doesn’t. he glances away before muttering under his breath, “you’re mine.”
“so stop messing around.”
you almost don’t hear it, but you do. it’s enough to keep you smiling for the rest of the night.
things that the bllk boys love—that they only love with you. ♡
ft. rin itoshi, sae itoshi, yoichi isagi, shidou ryusei.
RIN ITOSHI loves the physical touch. he was never the type to allow himself to be truly seen, to let down the walls he’d built up over the years, to allow someone to be close to him.
but when it came to you, who came running into his life like it was a marathon—smiles gracing your lips, laughter sweet as honey, the patience of a saint only you could have with him—it was special. it was different.
he was scared.
but for the first time in a long while within his life, he was safe.
he was safe when he had the ability to escape the empty reality of his life by falling for your spell—and for a moment, he realizes—he didn’t break down those walls for you.
you climbed over them.
you climbed over the tough brick wall that littered with scars—the claw marks in the pavements of his heart—he was broken free from the prison bars enclosing himself when you saved him with your touch.
your arms, soft as the pillow he needs to sleep at night, your eyes, glistening with the bright sparkle of care he had never once recieved in his life, was the hope to his dim light.
you never gave up.
never gave up on him.
no matter how much he pushed you away, how much he closed himself away from falling, he still tripped over the curve of love. the veil he placed over himself—the veil that blocks himself away from the reality of your relationship as just mere friends—shatters away in an instant when you hold his hand, touch his arm, merely graze your finger over his own when handing him his water bottle after practice, and he knows he’s fallen.
he’s fallen hard into your arms, and he can’t get away from you now—because the second he allowed himself to be seen, to be touched, to be held—was the second that he saw a future outside a football.
a future with you. ♡
SAE ITOSHI loves the subtle signs or changes. he notices things most wouldn’t be able to, and he remembers them. even if he could care less about what they are, they still vacated his memory because it was you they came from.
he doesn’t try to notice them, but if you try a new perfume, switch conditioners, merely change the makeup you use, he’ll notice. he’ll notice the different scent. he’ll notice the difference in texture of your hair after changing soaps. he’ll notice the slight differences in the texture of your makeup when he sees you, even so little and unnoticeable as such.
so when your feeling down, insecure, or holding something back, he notices.
he can see it—the tap of your index finger against your hip, the way you fidgeted with your clothes, your eyes blinking sharply with each quick switch of your gaze in a different direction—he can simply sense whenever you’re feeling uncomfortable.
he won’t say anything about it unless it’s truly bothering him. he won’t say he cares. but he does. he wants to know what made you change—he wants to understand himself as to why this change upsets him so.
but for some reason, he likes that he can sense these things about you, even if they upset him.
he likes the fact that he can sense your mood with just a few mere glances at your stature, likes that he can notice small things you change without word.
perhaps it’s because when he notices these changes in your nature, he develops more care than he thought he had in himself when it comes to you.
perhaps he likes the fact that he has the ability to make you feel safer when something is wrong by noticing these little changes.
it’s “here, put my coat over you.” when he notices that you’re feeling uncomfortable in public with people staring at your body.
it’s “eat. you haven’t been eating enough lately.” with handmade meals when he notices, even with his busy, away-from-home schedule, that you’re starving yourself, stressing about your body and your weight.
it’s “sleep. i’m not letting go until you fall asleep.” when he notices the dark, rough bags under your eyes with obvious notice of little sleep, with nothing but tight hugs and cuddles until the moment you fall asleep—yet even after, he still doesn’t let go.
it’s “wanna watch cat videos?” with the most nonchalant voice he can muster when he notices your on your period and in need of comfort or distractions.
it’s nothing.
he always says it’s nothing.
but he realizes that it’s not the fact he can make you feel safer by noticing these things with his actions that makes him love it so much.
it’s the smile you give him when he does.
that is why he loves it. ♡
YOICHI ISAGI loves the praise you give him. sure, others praising him feels great, especially when it’s about his skills in football, but when it comes from you.. oh it’s on a whole different league.
when you tell him he did amazing in his last match or in practice, that he’s improving, that he did a good job, it’s so over for him.
cause he melts.
his shoulders relax, his features soften. his eyes shine with with pride and happiness immediately after, tail wagging like an excited puppy if he had one when you praise him.
he doesn’t know how to explain it. doesn’t understand why he acts this way when it’s with you and only you.
but fuck, he loves it. he can’t get enough of it.
even if it’s embarrassing when he’s a sweating mess after practice, in front of the others, he’d still do it.
he’d get on his knees if he had to on the uncomfortable grass if it meant you’d give him headpats and tell him in detail how good he did and how well he’s improving.
he does it because it’s what keeps him going.
he does it because he knows that after every game, every practice, every dribble of the ball, he knows that if he does good, you’ll make sure that he knows with a simple ’i’m proud of you.’
the lengths he would go if it was you he had to prove weren’t on the scale.
he would break the scale if it was for you. if it was to hear your voice praising him once more, he would fight like a monster to prove he deserves it.
SHIDOU RYUSEI loves the thrill he gets when he’s with you. whether or not you’re doing something mundane, or something fun, when it was you, his heart was set ablaze with excitement.
merely painting your nails, choosing your outfit for the day, doing your hair, even merely watching tv, was fun when it was with you.
it wasn’t the same with anyone else, nor was it the same when he’s alone.
knowing that he gets to see your smile afterwards, hear your cheeky comebacks to his comments, or even playfight depending on how a conversation goes, he’s excited to be within your reach.
his eyes get wide with shining excitement running through his veins whenever you challenge him originally boring things like who can do what faster, becomes fun.
because he’s going against you. because he has to prove that your challenge is nothing to him.
he’s shidou goddamn ryusei! he isn’t gonna lose to a dumb challenge like that!
he especially loves it when you can counterattack his hyped up attitude with your own comebacks and quick wit. it makes everything more fun than having someone boring who just accepts it all.
oh, and don’t think you can escape his pervy sense of nature. that’s just who he is.
but that’s what exciting to him—the fact that you manuever his pervy demeanor and keep him on a tight leash that’s gripped within your fist.
your the only person that can really excite him like that.
well, aside from sae.
but. it’s not the same with sae that it is with you.
RIN ITOSHI fell first and definitely fell harder. he didn’t even realize he had fallen for you at first; it took him a long time to realize that he was truly in love. he didn’t want to acknowledge these emotions and give them the time of day. it was when he started showing up for you when you needed someone, when he was always there, when he knew the things you liked, it was then that he started to realize that maybe you were perhaps more than just a friend.
it only got worse as he kept interacting with you—cause the more you gave, the less he could take. with each and every wave hello and goodbye, with each sweet whisper of one anothers’ names and the possibility of more in his dreams, the more he forced himself to distance away from you.
it wasn’t because he hated you, he just wasn’t prepared for this ache in his chest.
this ache in his chest that can only be soothed by your warmth enveloping him in his arms.
he needed more, it was impossible to fill this insatiable hunger that swallowed him whole every single second and distracted him from his football career.
he fell too hard and could barely handle even the smallest of things you did—calling him by that nickname that he says he hates, ’rinnie’, yet secretly loves, saying good morning and goodnight to him every night, it was simply things like those that had him staying up at night after you’d rolled over, with him out of your field of view.
his ears would spread so flush with red and his mind would sputter. he facepalmed as if it was all stupid, but he knew he couldn’t deny it anymore.
it wasn’t even funny the way he gradually became more pathetic for you as each day passed.
it was as if all the mean from before turned into things such as remembering the things you like, getting you food and water if you haven’t had any that day, being the personal pillow you needed to cuddle when you had bad dreams, and even to kissing your forehead goodnight with his arms wrapped around you in a safe sheild from the world.
from then on, the protective layers he’d built over himself just gradually began to fall the more his love grew for you. because at that moment, he realized that he felt safe enough to allow them to, since he knew you wouldn’t break his heart the way everyone he ever met had.
social media chaos with rin after you rode him for the first time, 18+
you crawled into his lap with a small smile and lust glazing your eyes. nothing new. you’d done that a hundred times, while he was gaming, while he was watching film, after a long day. you’d settle over him, arms around his neck, lips on his ear. you’d grind a little, tease him until the control snapped and he took over. rough hands, harsh kisses, growled commands. always so controlled. always him in charge.
but tonight? you did something different. you kissed him soft. not needy. not hungry. but a slow, tender drag of your lips over his. and when he leaned in, expecting more, expecting the usual, you trailed kisses down to his neck instead. right over that spot where his pulse jumped when he was turned on. you smiled against his throat when you felt him swallow hard.
then you whispered, close and sweet, “don’t move. just sit there and be good for me.”
he blinked. you never said shit like that.
rin stiffened under you, breath catching. his brow twitched. his hands, which rested on your waist, twitched too, like they didn’t know whether to grip you or not. he opened his mouth to say something, but you touched his jaw, turned his face back toward you, and kissed him again meltingly deep. he whimpered against your tongue.
“you trust me, don’t you?” you whispered, pulling back just enough to see his eyes.
“y-yeah.”
good. because you planned to ruin him.
you straddled him properly then, settling into his lap like you were made to fit there. you wore nothing but his hoodie. it was big on you, skin-warm, and easy to push aside. your thighs caged him in, soft and strong, and when you started to move your hips in slow, lazy circles, rin let out the quietest gasp. you kissed him again. kissed him until his fingers dug into the couch cushion, until his back arched just slightly under you. his hands were trembling.
you whispered praise against his mouth. “you look so pretty like this.”
he groaned deep and low, trying to hold himself back. his head dropped against the couch, eyes fluttering shut as you kept rolling your hips against his lap. you could feel him hard already, pressing up into your heat, straining against the fabric separating you. and still, he didn’t move.
“you’re being so good,” you said softly. “just let me take care of you, rin.”
he opened his eyes again, dazed and dark, and watched as your hand reached back between your bodies. you made sure he was watching when you tugged your panties to the side and pulled him free. the moment your fingers wrapped around him, his whole body jolted like he’d been electrocuted. his hips tried to lift, but you pressed your weight down, keeping him exactly where you wanted him.
“stay still,” you murmured. “you don’t need to do anything.”
and then you torturously slow sank down onto him. his head hit the back of the couch with a choked cry, eyes blown wide, jaw slack as you took him inch by inch. you moved with total control, tightening around him as you finally settled all the way down in his lap.
“f-fuck—” rin’s voice cracked. “oh my god—baby—”
you rolled your hips once, long and deep, and watched his entire face crumble. you kept it that way, kept the slow, steady, deliberate rhythm. your palms rested on his chest, fingers dragging across his skin beneath his shirt. you worked him open and vulnerable, grinding down in soft, messy waves that left him breathless.
“please,” he whispered, hands flexing uselessly beside him.
“for what?” you asked, all honey. “you don’t usually beg, rin.”
he tried to thrust up into you. you pushed him back down again, palms firm on his shoulders. he groaned like it hurt. like it was too good. like he didn’t know how to survive it.
“i-i can’t… i can’t think when you’re like this…”
“good,” you purred, leaning in close. “don’t think. just take it.”
and he did. you rode him slow, dragging every sound out of him. he babbled your name, voice shaking, eyes wet with pleasure too big to contain. his thighs were trembling under you. his lips parted in gasps and broken moans. one hand found your waist. the other fisted the couch like it was the only thing keeping him from floating away.
“i love your voice like this,” you said softly, dragging your nails down his chest. “you make the prettiest sounds when you don’t fight it.”
you tightened around him with each roll of your hips. his whole body jerked, like he was going to fall apart. he was close, you could feel it. you could feel the way he was pulsing inside you, his muscles tense, his throat too tight for words. and then he came hard. with a desperate moan muffled against your neck, rin itoshi came inside you like his world had ended. his arms wrapped around your waist as he tried to hold on, head buried in your shoulder, hips twitching helplessly under you.
but you didn’t stop. you kept moving. slower this time, deeper, and messier. he whimpered.
you whispered in his ear. “don’t stop. you said you loved when i sat in your lap, didn’t you? so i’m not getting off. not yet.”
he was shaking. he buried his face in your throat and sobbed your name as you fucked him through the overstimulation. his voice was raw. his whole body was flushed. his nails left half-moon prints in your thighs. and when he came again, gasping and whining like he didn’t know if he could survive it, you kissed him slow, just like you had in the beginning. like he was yours, because he was.
“such a good boy,” you whispered. “so good for me.” and rin couldn’t even speak.
he just nodded. dazed, fucked out, ruined. exactly how you wanted him.
asking barou to fuck you raw for the first time would include…
you whispering it to him all shy while you’re grinding on his lap. he stiffens underneath you, hands gripping your waist tight, like he’s trying to hold himself back. “the fuck did you just say?”
you repeating it, maybe a little breathless, “i want you raw, shoei…” and his whole expression shifts. gone is the usual scowl. it’s replaced by this dark, hungry, possessive stare like you just offered yourself up to him.
“don’t say that unless you mean it.” he says it low, through clenched teeth, trying not to snap. and when you look him dead in the eyes and say “i do”? he fucking growls.
ripping the condom packet out of your hand and throwing it across the room. “you want me like this? then you better be ready, baby. i’m not holding back.”
he’s sliding into you bare with one deep, slow thrust, and letting out the filthiest, most primal moan he’s ever made. “fuck. fuck—this is mine. this pussy’s fuckin’ made for me.”
his hands shaking as he grips your hips, his pace immediately brutal. not because he wants to hurt you, but because he can’t believe how good you feel. he’s obsessed now. “so wet for me. you like it better this way, huh? of course you fuckin’ do.”
his voice getting rougher, filthier, the longer he’s inside you. “shit, i can feel everything. every clench. every twitch. you’re fuckin’ ruining me, baby.”
he’s whispering the nastiest things in your ear while he pounds into you. “you want my cum? want me to fill you up? mark you from the inside? yeah, you do. fuckin’ needy little thing.”
his thrusts getting frantic as he gets closer, like he’s fighting not to cum. “i can’t stop. can’t—fuck—don’t make me pull out.” and when you moan “don’t”? he completely breaks.
he’s cumming deep, hard, with a ragged moan of your name, teeth gritted, hips jerking as he holds you down and fills you full.
afterward? he stays inside you and stares at you. completely speechless for a second. then mutters, “you’re mine now. every fuckin’ inch of you. don’t you dare give this to anyone else.”
the aftercare is so rough-sweet. him cleaning you up but being all gruff about it like, “tch, you’re such a mess,” while lowkey worshipping you with his hands. and before you fall asleep, he whispers, “you want it raw again next time, right?”
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