#thank you bitti for asking for such a piece and i hope you enjoy dearest!!!! đ©·
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inversion
|| rin itoshi x reader || E/18+ || angst with a happy ending || wc: 7.2k || ao3 ||
Preemptive grief defines your relationship with Rin. Heartbreak is in the nature of your connection. You are forced to reckon with its end.
minors, antis and ageless blogs dni
notes: eeeeeee this piece is part of a trade i'm doing with beloved @rabbbitseason :3c they asked for angst + rin and i am here to deliver a bruisy piece đââïž!!!! he was an interesting (read: slippery) character to chew!! but very fun as well :3c thank you to @suguwu for beta reading this piece and talking through rin's character as well!!! jun's invaluable feedback rlly helped bring the piece together. please read and enjoy something a bit achey my kind reader đ
CWs: angst with a happy ending, gn reader with afab anatomy, rin is assumed to be 20+ and playing professionally, f receiving oral, missionary, some possible abandonment issues for the reader
You do not mean to fall in love with Rin Itoshi.
Distinctly, you did not want to fall in love with him. Because he is probably not a good lover, nor does he want to be a lover at all. Itâs a poor combination. Being enamored with him is a poor way of being.
Itâs unfortunate that you have found yourself in this positionâ hopelessly in love and irrevocably attached to him.Â
...Â
Drizzle falls from the sky in a mist. Itâs been like this for days, a haze of light rain with thick fog that rolls in during the mornings. Youâve almost gotten used to your hair frizzing up and returning home damp from any outing.Â
Itâs unpleasant. But then again, everything is unpleasant at this moment, so the rain is the least of your worries.
Rin Itoshi is on your front stoop.
Thereâs a little cement step there that he sits on. In front of your door, just behind him, is a welcome mat. A large, ceramic cat is set just next to the door. As you walk up to your home, grocery bags in tow, you cannot see your normal, friendly guardian.
Instead, all you see is Rin Itoshi.Â
Stopping in the little walkway up to your small home, you let the rain drench you. Rin looks up from the ground with an expression between a scowl and a pout. His hood is drawn up over his head, but his hair still looks wet. The tips of his shoes are soaked through. Even from a distance, you can tell.
You sigh.
âYouâre home late,â he says. His words get eaten by the ambient sounds of the city, and the pittering of rain on nearby roofs.
You raise your arms, trembling with the weight of your haul. âGroceries.â
âHm.âÂ
You frown and Rin rises.Â
He takes your bags, taking them from you and easily looping them on a single forearm. He moves aside so you can slip past him, to your door, now able to see your fat-bodied kitty cat protector (who really isnât doing much protecting at the momentâ) and give him a nod of acknowledgement.Â
Rin makes a sound behind you; a huff. Heâs amused. You contend with kicking his shin but decide against it.
Like a lost, wet puppy, Rin follows you inside.Â
Thereâs a pair of house slippers for him; there has been for months. The fuzzy fabric of the slippers is patterned to look like big, pink cat paws. You purchased them for Rin as a joke, a gag that you didnât expect to get a rise out of him beyond a heavy blush, and yet he took to them immediately. His pair sits next to your own slippers like the two belong next to each other.Â
Rin shuffles behind you.
(How many times have you done this?)
You turn on the electric kettle and put away the groceries Rin has carried inside for you. You mentally plan out your meals for the week and concurrently catastrophize about what the fuck to do with the man in front of you.Â
He leans against your kitchen counter. His outer layer has been shed, all heâs in now is a (somehow, still damp) white t-shirt and his warm-up joggers. Rainwater still clings to his bottom lashes, dew-like. You lean forward, cupping his face to brush the moisture away. His cheeks are clammy, still so chilled.Â
(Itâs all too tender.)
âYouâre cold.â You frown. âGo sit down. Iâll finish making tea.â
âI am sitting down.â
âLeaning isnât sitting.âÂ
âClose enough.â
You sigh. âI meant in the other room, preferably with a blanket.â
âIâll wait.âÂ
You sigh, âFine.â
Itâs not worth arguing with Rin.Â
Rin is soâ soâ frustratingly single-minded. Motivated in a single direction to a fault. Youâve long since learned that attempting to sway him, regardless of how sensible and sensical of an idea you have, is fruitless. If it doesnât align with what he has already decided he is going to do, he simply wonât change. Itâs something rather immutable about him.
His nature is as stubborn as his thoughts.Â
(Loving him is so difficult; you wish that you didnât.)
Rin grabs two mugs (your mugs) while you fetch the tea. Itâs the same selection as it always isâ your cup of ginger and honey, and his plain peppermint.Â
You only settle once the two of you make your way to the couch, side-by-side, covered in the worn quilt that Rin likes best. Itâs a tawny mix of grey and tan yarn. You picked it up from a thrift store years ago. You never wouldâve thought that it would become such an integral part of a pathetic, mutual routine.
Rin is stiff beside you. One glance at him tells you that heâs chewing on his words. He doesnât tend toâ to do that. He doesnât mince anything that flows from his brain to his lips. Your stomach rolls with a sense of unease.Â
âIs everything alright?â You ask.Â
(It never is, not really, when this routine is being completed.)
Rin looks at him. His gaze is piercing, crystalline. It lances you. âIâm leaving.â
You know this already; you arenât supposed to.
âOh?â
âYeah.â
â... For how long?â This you donât know.Â
âA while.â Rin's hands ball into fists on the tops of his thighs. âHalf a year, at least.â
âI see.â
(You feel your world begin to cave in.)Â
An eerie quiet settles over the room. The rain patters outside, streaking your windows in droplets, obscuring the greater world. It makes it feel like all that exists is you, Rin, and the lucid knowledge that your connection has nearly run its course.Â
You swallow; itâs audible. âWhere to?â
âEurope.â
âEuropeâs big. Countriesâ?â
âGermany, Italy, and France,â replies Rin. âMaybe more.â
The back of your eyes sting. âI could visit?â
âIâll be busy.â
â... Could you not make time?â
(Could you not make time for me?)
âI donât know.â
âHm.â You feel something cold and dreadful coat your insides.Â
Your tea is cooling down, steam hardly rising from the mug now. You take a sip of it, and hold the mug in both hands, grasping onto the warmth that radiates off of it. The ceramic of the vessel still holds heat, enough to scald your palms. Yet, you donât put it down.Â
This big, unspoken thing lingers between you both. It writhes, swirls, like it always does when you enter this routine. Thereâs always been an impending end date to your connection, even if neither of you could quantify the time you had left together. Rin's career, his ambitions, his nature to not just excel, but crush and break in tandem, have always floated above your dynamic.Â
This thing would immolate eventually.
(And you along with it.)
...
You end up in your bedroom, the gloomy day sliding into a thickly dark night. Youâre not even sure if the moon is out. The room only glows with light from a few soft lamps. The spray of them catches the angles of Rinâs face well. Even with age, his face hasn't hardened all that much. He still has pudge in his cheeks that he canât shake. It makes him look younger, more innocent, like there hasnât been a thing in him, forever, threatening to devour him as it craves to brutalize others.Â
Another part of your routine commences once you enter your soft, kindly-lit bedroom. Sexâ of some sort. Today it feels bad. Youâre not sure whatâs coming other than grief.Â
Stripping feels like a funeral march. The drizzle that continues to fall outside may as well be a dirge.Â
Rin pulls his shirt over his head and off. Itâs a quiet affair today, though typically it isnât. On a more normal day, when you arenât witnessing your romantically entangled decay in real-time, thereâs banter. You might rib Rin, he may respond with his own barbed remark that you find a bit silly. Itâs fun, despite Rinâs perpetually bruised demeanor.
Today, though, thereâs no humor. No jesting. All thatâs left is the unfathomable depth ofâ something behind Rinâs eyes and the ache in your chest that youâre afraid will kill you.
You kneel on your bed, left only in a sweater, goofy-looking socks, and panties. The stupid satiny kind that you think is kind of uncomfortable, but you know Rin enjoys. He leaves his boxers on, coming to rest on his own knees across from you.
Your eyes feel damp, you feel stupid, and canât make yourself look at him.
âDonât be a crybaby,â he tells you.
You scoff, the sound warbly and your voice watery. âLike youâre any better.âÂ
(Rin isnât the crybaby notably. You think he gets close to it sometimes. Maybe thatâs just your own wishful thinking.)
(You want Rin to crack; it would make your own fissures less shameful.)
Rin kisses you then like he can hear your thoughts, and kissing you hard on the mouth will extract them from your brain. It does, in a way. Heâs warm and familiar. You love him so terribly.Â
You cup his cheeks in your palms, still aching from your mug earlier. You donât care. You couldnât make yourself care as you lean into him, pitching your weight forward. For all the things Rin isnât good at, he is good at catching you. He bears the weight of you easily, wrapping an arm around your waist and securing you with a hand on the nape of your neck.
Heâs so solid. Bigger than he appears. Firm muscle over firm muscle, heâs so entirely unyielding beneath your hands. There are so many parts of him that contradict each other; itâs what drew you to him in the first place. Rin Itoshi has always been a spectacle for you to untangle and know, even if, at first, it was just to satiate your own curiosity about the foul-mannered, enigmatic man he appears to be.Â
Unfortunately, now, you have untangled Rin. The essence of him has been unraveled in your hands, laying across your palms like sheets of satin fabricâ the kind that catches the light and almost shimmers in sun rays and moonbeams alike. Rin is so much more fragile than he appears, tough at some angles, but so bruiseable at others. This knowledge is held by you so intimately, you cherish it, what else can you do?Â
Itâs damning. Itâs made you love him.
You stifle a noise against his lips and fall into him more.
In a single motion, Rin has you on your back, laid beneath him while he straddles your hips. He doesnât stop kissing you. If anything, the leverage has him leaning into you more deeply. Itâs suffocating, the weight of his body and him over you. Like itâs bearing down into your soul.
Rin licks into your mouth and you let him.
Itâs almost gross when he kisses you like this. Filthyâ dirty. He practically plunders the inside of your mouth, running his tongue over the back of your teeth, pushing it against your own, spit dripping out of the corners of your mouth. If you felt like you could be properly romantic with Rin, you might even say itâs a claiming act.
But you canât be romantic with Rin. Because this doesnât matter. The physicality you share serves the function of physical release and gratification. You love him and it is useless that you do. These are immutable facts.
(Facts that you hate, despise, and loathe. Why canât he love youâ? Why canât heâ just understand?)
You growl against his lips and shove at his chest.
âJustââ You sigh, turning your head to the side. You canât look in his eyes or youâll immolate. âFuck me already, okay?â
Rin wordlessly presses his forehead against your temple. His hands claw into your hips. Heâll leave bruises, but theyâll never last the six months that heâll be gone for. Youâll be a distant memory to him by then, youâre certain.
Something awful and far too hot is boiling in your chest.Â
âNo,â says Rin
âNo?â
âNo.â He repeats, dragging his nose down to your jaw, then your throat.Â
âWhy not?â
âBecause I donât want to yet.â
âWell, get a move on then.â You scoff. The watery quality of your voice has shifted to something sharper, angrier.Â
âWhatâs with you?â He sighs out of his nose and it makes you flinch. âWhy are you acting like this?â
âLike what?â
âLike thisââ Rin tugs your jaw to face him and holds you there. Youâre stuck looking into his eyes, azure and shiny like polished stones. Full of something you canât name, lest you break your heart further.
(Your delusions are both damning you and saving you.)
Your eyes water; maybe you are a crybaby. âFuck off.â
Rin kisses you hard again, flattening himself to you. Heâs a cage like this, where you can only take what he gives you andâ
(Rin gives you everything. Because thatâs how he is with things he cares about.)
You feel like you're melting into the duvet as you desperately claw into Rinâs scalp, raking your hands through his hair. A pathetic noise bubbles up from your throat, pours from your mouth into Rinâs, and he takes it in kind. He always does.Â
(He shouldnât be reliable, but he is.)
Itâs hard to think when he kisses you like this. Rinâs physicality is consuming, like heâs attempting to crush you and absorb you into him. Itâs an intoxicating type of connection; itâs part of why you linger within your entanglement. In the moments youâre under him, intertwined with him like this, god, touching at allâ you canât do anything but think of Rin and his attention.
You kick him because heâs leavingâ heâs leaving you and he isnât letting you follow.
Rin grunts at the impact, even though you donât kick him all that hard. You nip him at the same timeâÂ
Youâre so angry.
All the dread in you is angry, bitter like bile, and white hot. Preemptive grief, loss that you have to start swallowing before Rin isnât even out of your arms.
âI hate youââ You tell him against his lips.âYouâre awful. Youâre the worstââ
Rin breaks away from you in an instant, slamming you back on the bed by the shoulder in a single, decisive motion. It makes your head spin.
âYou donât mean that.â
âAnd what if I did?â Itâs not convincing, your voice is wobbling too much for it to be. You stare up at him, lips curling.Â
âYouâre being a brat.â
âOh my god, says youââ You roll your eyes. âYouâre the brat here. Justâ fucking kiss meââ
âNo.â
âThen fucking leave alreadyâ!â
Rin holds you steady by the jaw, bowing over your body. You canât look anywhere other than him. Itâs consuming, like youâre being engulfed by a rushing tide.Â
âStop. It.â His words are clipped, filled with his own anger. His grip is too tight; you fear he may crush you.Â
âChoke.â
âYouâre throwing a tantrum.â
âSo what if I am?â you laugh, the sound too high and airy to be comfortable. âIf it bothers you so much, just leave already. Itâs not like you want to be here. Does passing time in my bed make it go faster for you, Rin? Getting your last taste of this before you fuck off and leaveâ?â
âThatâs what this is about?â
âWhat else would it be about!â
Your voice breaks and you close your eyes. God, you don't want to cry, but it feels unavoidable now. All of Rinâs attention, potential vitriol, judgment, and rejection is pointed at you. You might as well fucking die.
Rin is quiet over top of you, like a dark, stormy cloud in its last moments before a thunder crack. Heat lightning crackles between the two of you, but nothing strikes the ground yet.Â
âItâs better for you to stay here,â he says eventually.Â
âWhy do you think that?â You sound exasperated.
Rinâs quiet again, then speaks like heâs seated at a confessional, and not over your hips.Â
âYou shouldnât be around me too much when Iâm playing,â Rin confesses and squeezes your jaw. âItâs bad enough here. All Iâll be doing is playing soccerââ
âAnd thatâs what you want, right?â
âYesââ Rin admittance hits you in the chest and you have to let out a steadying breath, so you donât shatter right there. âAnd you canât be there for that.â
âWhy?â
Rin lets go of your jaw and you open your eyes.Â
His own jaw is tight, his bottom lip bitten between his teeth. His eyes are wet, almost like there could be tears threatening to spill into his lower lashes. Maybe youâre imagining it.Â
âTrust me.â His tone is a bowstring. Youâre both ready to snap. âPlease.â
A whine echoes from your throat, out of your control.Â
(You love him and you hate seeing someone you love hurtâ)
You canât help yourself. You tug him down by the shoulders and into you, so he can lay over your chest. He lets you, so easily, and tucks his face into the curve of your neck. He hides there, arms wrapping around your middle, so tightly that youâre sure that youâll ache there the next day.Â
It hurts, it hurtsâ not the pressure on your ribs, but having the atypically unsteady presence of Rin in your arms. Itâs not uncommon for the two of you to cuddle, Rin is clingy, especially after sex, but it is odd to see him this visibly upset. It hurts because heâs hurting. It hurts because heâs choosing to leave and telling you not to follow, despite... everything. It hurts so deep in your chest, that you let yourself become so involved and in love with him.
You bury your face in his hair and shake.
...
Rin is bad at protecting people.
Itâs a given, knowing his nature and the fact that he had an older brother closely looking out for him for most of his life, makes his ineptitude at protection make sense.Â
He clearly wants to be. He has the strength and tenacity to bare his teeth and claw, but you donât think Rin knows which way to direct his fear and griefâ whether to inflict wrath on himself, the aggressor, or the person he actually means to protect.Â
You canât blame him. Some things, Rin only understands in theory and not in practice. Rin is so highly attuned to feelings but so absolutely atrocious at empathizing. You thinkâ with youâ he tried. He even succeeded at points, which makes your own heartbreak feel all that more infectious and virulent.
Your back is laid out over your duvet, your legs cradling Rinâs hips. He has three fingers in you, stretching you out with as much care and intention as he can muster. You can tell by the furrow in his brow, the peek of his tongue sticking out from his lips. Pleasure burns in your core, but the sensation is eclipsed by a well of fondness and grief, drowning you.
Rin slides onto his stomach and hikes your legs over his shoulders. He takes one of your hands and places it into his hair. You knot your fingers into the soft texture of it and tug. He likes when you do that, when you try to take from him. Rin shudders between your thighs, huffing a breath into the pudge of them. He nips.
On another night, youâd scold him and give him a playful amount of grief for it.
Tonight, you want him to bite you so hard that you bleed and scar.
(Would he? Heâs so scared of hurting you, even if he doesnât say it. He is hurting you. A sick part of you wants him to do material harm to you, so youâll have something tangible to remember him by. An imprint of his teeth in your thigh would be too romantic, maybe. Too much to ask for.)
Rin kisses up toward your cunt, taking his time over the outside of it. He breathes in the scent of you, long and hard, a few times. A wishful part of you hopes that he is committing it to memory.Â
âHurry up,â you snap.Â
âNo.â Rin keeps fucking denying you. Haste would make this hurt less. You could speed things up to the inevitable end where Rin Itoshi has thrown thisâ youâ away and you are left alone. Instead, he prolongs it. Instead he is carving a piece of you out, in the shape of himself, the wound never to fill as cicatrix and heal.
You drag him closer by the hair and grind against his faceâ
âImpatientââ he says against your cunt with a growl. His arms wrap around your hips, holding you down and in place, keeping you from squirming.Â
Itâs needed as he drags his tongue over your cunt, dipping the tip of it into your hole before landing on your clit. He laps at it, at you, humming and groaning as you tug at his hair. The motion youâre allowed lets you just barely grind against his face. Itâs not enough contact. You want more, need more, but Rin is only giving you so much.Â
âGod,â you breathe out. âFuck you.â
Rin practically growls, the vibration of the sound against your sex makes your back arch, a pretty, croaking sound dripping from your throat. He dives into you with more fervor, digging hand-shaped bruises into your hips.
The pleasure comes to you like licks of a flame, just as scorching as they are whimsical. Your toes curl as Rinâs sucks your clit. Thereâs finesse in his actions. There didnât used to be, at the start of things, but now Rin knows your body so intimatelyâ
(It feels crushing to know this will be the last timeâ)
It feels like youâve been struck.
Never againâ this is itâ? The last time heâll be in your bed, between your thighs, in your arms. Youâll never get to share this proximity with Rin Itoshi again. Not this version of him, anyway. You know what the journey that heâs about to embark on will do to him. The Rin that you know wonât exist for much longer, andâÂ
The version of himself that heâll return as wonât be yours.
(And he wonât give a fuck about you, will he?)
It feelsâ like youâre going to die. Preemptive grief for a still-living person feels selfish. And yet, you canât breathe suddenly, even with Rin, present, between your thighs, lavishing you with (fleetingâ fleeting!) attention.
You rip your hand from Rinâs hair and cover your face. You canât look at him. You canât. Tears are dripping from the corners of your eyes, soaking into your hairline. Your breathing speeds up, painful and raw. Rin is still between your legs.
âWhatâs wrong?â He asks, looming over you once more. You can feel his shadow, more than you can see it.Â
He grabs your wrists and tries to drag them away from your face. When you donât budge, he pries them down to your sides. Perhaps it was foolish of you to think that you could hide from him.
âJustââ You breathe, staring into the shadows thrown onto your bedroom wall. âKeep going. Please. Ignore me.â
âThe last thing in the world I can do is ignore you right now.â Rin squeezes you, less for comfort and more to remind you that he is there. âDonât be unreasonable.â
âI just want to get this over withââ Your voice wobbles and you squeeze your eyes shut. A sob is trapped in your throat, breaking in an ugly sound. Your wrist jolts in Rinâs grip, desperate to try and hide the noise.Â
You want to hide this from Rin.
If Rin wants to hide the ugly, poisonous part of him that comes out in his career, you want to hide the lovesick one that has infected you. The one that is shattering, in real-time, at the idea of Rin leaving your bed cold, forever.Â
âI want to take my time,â Rin tells you. âLet me?â
âAnd I want you to just get it over withââ You repeat, a sob finally breaking from your lips, fully. Rin noses into your cheek. âFinish breaking my fucking heart already, Rin. Then you can hop on a plane and I can block your fucking number.â
Thereâs a stall. A beat, then two, followed by a third.
Rin is shaking on top of you.
âWould it be that easy for you?â He speaks with gritted teeth.
Would it?
(No, it would actually be so hard for you to cut Rin off so swiftly. Even if you blocked his number, youâre bound to see him in the news. You donât even follow football all that closely, but heâs such a household name these days that youâre sure to encounter news of him and his accumulating accolades.)
(If not, you know his teammates. Rin begrudgingly introduced you after the lot of them crossed paths with you enough times. You have a few of their phone numbers. Rinâs mother has your contact information too, from the time that Rin spiked a high fever and you needed her specific oyaku recipe. She messages you photos of her garden now, and asks if Rinâs alright.)
(And none of that is even acknowledging the personal, emotional wreckage that cleaving Rin from your life so swiftly will leave behind.)
âNo,â you say.Â
Rin takes a steadying breath, his breath too warm against your cheek and down your jaw.
âYou said,â his voice maybe wobbles, you may be imagining it, âthat Iâm breaking your heart?â
You laugh, something horrible and pained. âI thought that was obvious?â
He pauses. âMaybe it was.â
God, heâs so shit at this kind of thing.
âYouâre awful, you know that?â
And you cry.
Youâve become so fragile in the past few weeks. Imagining this day, these exact moments of fleeting intimacy, like doing so could prepare you in any way for the pain thatâs now tearing through you. The fear of losing him is being actualized, and youâre making it worse, pushing him away like this. But what would happen if you held him closer when itâs so clear thatâs not what Rin wants?
You tear your wrists from Rinâs grip, taking a great amount of effort to flip and attempt to crawl across the bed. Crying like this makes you feel awful and ugly; you want nothing more than to hide. Rin is frozen, motionless, above you at first, letting you writhe until you get onto your tummy, squirming and clawing your way out from under him.
Then, he bears his weight down on you. He gathers your wrists up again and pins them to the bed on either side of your head. Itâs a single moment of strength that immobilizes you flat all over again.
âRin!â You mean to shout it, but instead, itâs a cracking sob that you have to muffle into the duvet.
He gathers your wrists in a single hand, and pets your hair, like you so often do for him. He rubs circles on your shoulders as you wail into the duvet. Bucking him off doesnât work, heâs an unrelenting presence, sitting on your lower back, almost laid over you. Itâs hard to breathe.
(A sick part of you likes this. Knowing that your blatant pain and struggle are being acknowledged by Rin, held and quelled by him, soothes the part of you that craves his attention so terribly. You love him so much, you feel guilty for these feelings just as much as you feel elated by the touch and care he is providing you.)
âItâs okay,â he tells you. He is not a being meant to comfort, the words sound wrong coming out of his mouth. âItâs okay.â
âYou know itâs n-not!â
A fresh wave of tears pours from you. Youâre soaking the mattress.Â
âIâm sorry,â he doesnât apologize either. âIf I could give you what you want, I would.â
The sob that you scream into rumpled bed sheets is like thunder that splits the sky.
...
Rin fucks you like he loves you.
He kneels between your legs, holding your hands, thrusting into you at an unhurried, almost reverent pace. Slow and deep, busting up your insides. Youâre stretched around his pretty cock beautifully; he told you so.Â
Each cant of his hips knocks a teary breath out of you. Youâ you havenât stopped crying. Youâre not sure that you ever will.
Rin kisses you despite the tears and snot, licks your cheeks and mars your neck with mark after mark. His teeth dig into fragile flesh, biting and sucking like he could be eating you, rather than bedding you. Itâs a shift in his demeanorâ heâs not normally this desperate. Maybe your shattering has made him more lucid to your coming loss.Â
His hands slip up the backs of your thighs, resting behind your knees. He bears his weight down on you, folding you in half easily. It pushes his cock deeper in you, maybe too deep, but you relish the pain anyway. The pressure of him forces a sound of you, aborted and frail. When you try to cover your mouth, muffle yourself, Rin is pulling your hand away to kiss you.Â
Rin swallows down every sound, every breath, every bit of you that he can. You press back at him with as much desperation as you muster. He takes and takes, regardless of your tears and jagged edges.Â
He curses under his breath, tilting his forehead against your own.
âC-Close?â You ask, another involuntary sound being punched out of your lungs.Â
âNoââ He shakes his head.
âAre you lying?â
âNoââ
âIâm unconvinced,â you manage to grit out, a bubbling sob creeping up your throat just after.Â
Rin growls, something in his chest, and thrusts harder, like heâs trying to carve out your insides.Â
âIââ Rinâs words choke off, pressed against your lips, a frantic edge to it. âI donât want to be done yet.â
You both freeze.
Rinâs as deep in you as he can be, his hips pressed to your pelvis. Every bit of his weight is bared into you, into your cunt and flesh. Heâs breathing in deep, hurried breaths, sweat beads on his brow. Youâre grasping his shoulders, digging your nails into him as his words hit you.
âYouââ You laugh and cry in the same breath. âYou donât mean what I think you mean, do you?â
His grip on you tightens. His expression is cloudy, his focus solely on you (what a terrifying thing to be on the receiving end ofâ)
You continue speaking, feeling a creeping amount of panic, âYouâ you mean sex right? You want to k-keep going?â
âIf I said yes to that, Iâd be lying.â Rin thrusts into you, hard and fast. You arch your back against the duvet.Â
âS-So you donât wantââ
âI want to keep fucking you,â Rin corrects, easily. He pushes you down into the mattress like heâs trying to crush you, pulverize you. âI donât want to be done fucking you.â
âGod,â you hit his shoulder with your fist and the force of an angry kitten. âYou fucking suck, Rin.â
âIâm sorryââ
â â Donât say shit you donât mean.â
He kisses you again, this time softer. More kind, but still like he wants to eat you.Â
You finish like that, with his lips laid over yours, with the tempest of loss having consumed you. Rin heavy over your body and heart, pleasure having snuck up behind him enough that tension has coiled in your gut. Your orgasm washes over you slowly, in waves, and youâre sucked down into the sensation with darkening vision and curling toes.
Rin kisses you through it, cursing as you tighten around him. He didnâtâ he didnât use a condom.
âInsideââ You beg him. âInsideâ please, pleaseââ
Rin listens to you, bowing over you and pushing your knees up to the sides of your skull. A choked sound leaves his lips and you swallow it down with your own keen. A gush of warmth follows, and you shiver with the heat and fullness of it.
Rin fucks you through his orgasm, muscles drawn tight as he fucks you deep and slow. He only stops when his cock is too soft to continue, and youâre both shivering from overstimulation.Â
His cock drags out of you, wet and chilling in the still air. You whine at the loss, the panic and grief of this all hitting you again.
You donât have much time to spiral, as Rin is gathering you up his arms, rolling away from the soaked sheets. He holds you tight, chest-to-chest. His hand is in your hair, and he grabs yours and places it on his own. Reflexively, you scratch his scalp and tug him closer.
Youâre both quiet for a long time. The rain hasnât stopped, dribbling on, but it doesnât feel as grim now, more sedating. Your eyes go half-lidded.
âCan you clarify?â You ask Rin, peeking up at him. âWhat you meant before?â
(âI donât want to be doneââ)
âHm.â
âGodâ!â You laugh, headbutting him. âYou do suck.â
He squeezes you, so hard that a sound is forced from your lips.Â
âSo you want to keep fucking?â
âItâs more than that.â
âFuck, Rinââ
âShut up.â
âStill figuring it out?â
âSomething like that.â He muffles the words into the top of your head.
Youâre not sure where your grief sits then. Maybe itâs gone, and your release was just thatâ release. It makes you laugh again, into Rinâs chest. You squeeze him like doing so will keep him here, in this moment, for a little longer.Â
Rin wordlessly squeezes you back even harder.
...
You and Rin donât talk much once he goes to Europe.
You lose your mind right after he leaves, obviously. Screaming, crying, not throwing up, but pretty close to it. His house slippers get thrown in the back of a closet (rather than in the trash because, despite everything, you have hopeâ) and you rot for several weeks.
It takes a while for you to be close to normal.
Your routine with Rin had been a regular occurrence. Maybe once a week, sometimes twice. Not having it to count on unmoors you and makes you lonely in a way that feels unwelcome and raw. Thereâs a piece of you missing, just like you knew there would be.
You get a few texts from him. A photo or two of monuments he encounters with a few choice wordsâ
[Rin]: I thought you would like this
Youâre going to fucking kill him.
Youâre never sure what to reply, so you tend to keep things brief. Your last encounter made you question your understanding of your relationship so profoundly that you donât know how to proceed. Thereâs... certainly more than you expected, but upon Rin departing for Europe, so much had been left unsaid. How do you begin to broach thatâ is it even your place to?
You donât bring it up. You donât call him, you leave the wound he left alone, and it aches a little less each day. Still gaping and empty, but less raw maybe.
Itâs late one evening when you receive a call from a random, international number.
You ignore it at first, thinking itâs spam, but they recall you several times, and you pick up on the fourth attempt.
â... Hello?â You ask into the receiver.Â
âOh, hi! Is this [name]?â
âIt isâ who is this?â
âOh, itâs Isagiâ Iâm one of Rinâs teammates from Bluelock. Iâm not sure if you remember me, but weâve met a few times!â
You haveâ Rin has a serious chip on his shoulder about Isagi, which has been made to be an incredibly comical fact when realized Isagi is one of the most genuinely kind, polite people youâve ever encountered.Â
âOh yeah, it's nice toâ um, hear from you. Whatâs up?
âAh, yeah! I apologize for the abrupt calls. Iâve got something to ask you thatâs kind of time-sensitiveâ if you have a minute.â
âYeah, Iâve got time.â You swallow. âIs... everything alright? Is... Rin okay?â
âOh, yeah! Heâs totally fine. Maybe a little hungover, but fine.â
You straighten up and withhold gasp. âRin drank?â
Rin has refused alcohol the entire time youâve known him. He swears it affects his performance.Â
Isagi laughs on the other side of the line. âOh man, you donât even know. Iâve never seen the guy with any alcohol in his system before either, and I kind of get why. He really is a lightweight.
âI imagine... and this has to do with why you called?â
âYes, actuallyââ Your phone chimes with a new message from Isagi. âIs this you in the photo?â
The photo is of another phone, specifically of its lock screen. The time on the photographed phone screen reads [01:11]. The lock screen is a photo of you.
Youâre sleeping, clearly, face half-smushed into one of your pillows. Mascara smears under your eyes and hickeys are bruised up and down your throat. From the location of the marks and makeup, you know this is from the last night you saw Rin. Your chest feels tight.Â
âWhat the fuck.â
âIs that a yes?â
âYeah, oh my god.â You had no idea Rin took this photoâ and itâs his fucking lock screen? That fucker only had the generic, preloaded graphics displayed on his phone the entire time you knew him.Â
âI thought soâ sorry, itâs kind of insane for Rin to have a photo like thatââ
âIt is, yeah.â You run a hand over your face, switching your phone to speaker and rubbing your cheeks. âHow does this relate to you calling?â
âWell,â says Isagi, âRinâs been playing like shit.â
âHe has been.â Oh my god, has he. Like actual garbage. Youâre not sure you should admit that you watch Rinâs games religiously, because at this point itâs a bit pathetic of you. But you do watch them live if at all possible, otherwise you purchased some stupid European streaming service to catch the recording as soon as possible. And because of this, you know he has been playing sloppily. Youâve been... blaming jetlag. Or something. Adjusting to the European diet or whatever.
(Not the vestiges of your relationship still, miraculously, affecting him in any way.)
âIt hasnât been great. We won our match yesterday, but barely. And we went out drinking which was good for morale! But maybe not great for Rin. He drank a bit too much and got a bit weepy.â
Your stomach drops. You can see where this is going.
âHe kept talking about missing someone but didnât say any name. And when we saw his lock screen... we kind of put two-and-two together.â
âGreat deduction. Arenât you known for that?â
Isagi laughs, sounding good-natured. It makes you smile. Itâs nice to know Rin hangs out with good people who arenât all dour and weird like him.Â
âSomething like that. Anyway, his birthday is in a few weeks, and me and a few of the other guys thought it would be a good gift for him to fly you out and surprise him.â
You stay silent, attempting to suffocate the spark of hope that traitorously stirs in you.
âIsagi.â You fold your hands and put them vertically to your lips. âHave you met Rin?â
That makes him laugh, âI have, Iâm probably around him too much. But heâs been weird since we started the season here. If you visited, the team would cover everything. Our coach even offered to arrange rooms for you at the hotels weâll be at. If you donât want to room with Rin, anywayââ
âRin and I arenât together.â
âDamn.â Isagi clicks his tongue. âDoes he know that?â
Maybe youâre an idiot. Maybe Rinâs an idiot. Maybe youâre both idiots.Â
âI should ask him, maybe.â
âHeâs never been the type to do things in halves, you know.â
âTrust me, Iâm very aware of that.â
Isagi whistles and you shake your head.Â
âYou donât have to give me an answer right away. If you could let me know in the next few days, that would be great. Youâve got my number now that Iâve called, yeah?â
âYeah, Iâll be in touch.â You swallow. âThanks for reaching out, Isagi. I appreciate it. Andâ thanks for keeping an eye on Rin too.â
âYeah, yeah. Someone needs to while heâs here. Let me know what youâre thinking, feel free to call if you need anything too. Or want me to spy on Rin for you.â
âWill do,â You laugh, light-hearted for the first time in weeks. You exchange goodbyes and you drop your phone onto your lap.
...
Oh my fucking god.
You know several things immediatelyâ you want to go. Desperately, actually, especially with the knowledge that stupid fucking Rin Itoshi has you as his fucking lock screen? You need answers, if nothing else. You wonât settle for a very sad, weepy fuck this time around.Â
You also know that you should not surprise Rin.Â
So, you act before you can convince yourself better of it. You scroll to your messages with Rin and craft.
[you]: hey, i hope youâre doing alright. your teammate (isagi) just called me and invited me out for your birthday to surprise you. but i know you well enough to know that if i surprise you like that you will either kill me, isagi, yourself, or all three of us.
[you]: i wanted to touch base before i gave isagi an answer
[you]: iâd love to see you
[you]: and we should talk too.
Rin almost immediately sees the messageâ the freak has read receipts on. A bubble indicating heâs typing appears, then disappears.
A call from him comes in. You nearly drop your phone as the screen lights up your face and vibrates.
With a steadying breath, you answer.
âHello?â
âWhat did Isagi tell you?â
You snort. âThat your play sucks and that youâre a weepy drunk.âÂ
âHe sucks. Donât talk to him again.â
âI have to, so he and the rest of your team can buy me tickets and a hotel roomââ
âIfâ if you want to come, Iâll buy your ticket. And why would you need a hotel room?â
âSo I have somewhere to sleep.â
âIs my bed not good enough for you?â
âAre you implying that Iâd sleep with you?â
â...Yes.â
âDamn,â you fall back onto your couch with a laugh. Thereâs an odd coil of relief thatâs unspooling in your chest. You could cry again. âIs that alright?âÂ
âIâ I wouldnât wantââ Rin so rarely loses his words, it shocks you to hear when he does. âYes. Itâs fine. I can meet you at the airport too.â
âWell, arenât you sweet?â
âIâm being serious.â
âSo am I.â
Thereâs a poignant moment of silence that passes between you two. You can imagine Rin nowâ itâs the morning where he is. He probably is nursing both a bottle of water and that electrolyte drink he prefersâ he likes the blue flavor the best. Heâs probably in his warm-up clothes, preparing for his meticulous morning routine.Â
âIâm excited,â Rin says, stilted but there. âTo see you again.â
Something warm burns in you, frail but burgeoning.
âSo am I.â You wipe your eyes and laugh. âDonât break my heart again, Rin, I swear to God.â
âI wonât.â
He says it with enough conviction that you believe him.Â
#lore writes#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x you#itoshi rin x you#itoshi rin x reader#bluelock x reader#bluelock x you#ANYWAYS!!! :3ccc#this piece was so interesting like#had not thought about rin in the ways i was required to for this piece :'^)#and it was very gratifying and so fun!!#thank you bitti for asking for such a piece and i hope you enjoy dearest!!!! đ©·
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