ur bf rin is so slobbery haha content | fluff, kissing, cutesie i luv rin im marrying him

the boy is an absolute slobber monster. well, that’s what you always said to him. he’d get so angry he’d tell you he had to “take five” to recuperate. and you always found it utterly hilarious. it must be discussed just how obscene the issue was.

case i.

the morning light drifting into the bedroom woke rin up immediately. his head had been nestled deep into your chest. it appears he must’ve had a nice sleep since . . . well, there was a huge blotch of wetness on your shirt.

rin slapped a hand to his mouth, his face immediately burning into a humiliating shade of red. he scurried off the bed and needed to relax his viciously tense body immediately. do what he always does in the mornings — meditate.

unfortunately, from his frantic scurrying, you had woken up. and rin didn’t even leave the room in time before you groggily spoke.

“g’morning rin,” you mumbled, not noticing the stain on you just yet.

but to rin’s dismay, you eventually did. you had straightened up, relaxing your morning stiffness. your eyes lolled down to your chest that had that blotch of drool.

“…huh?” you muttered to yourself, your mind still adjusting to having just woken up.

case ii.

“rin, you’re doing it again,” you giggle.

rin had been chewing on the string of his hoodie, trying to focus on match footage. but your teasing giggle knocked him straight out of his head.

“doing what?” he said defensively, the hoodie string falling straight out his mouth.

you pointed a finger at the tiny string of saliva that lingered on his bottom lip. “drooling.”

rin sat up immediately, grimacing with utter contempt. “shut up, idiot. it’s not drooling. don’t call it that.”

at this point you could only laugh chestfully. “then what is it?” you say, wiping a joyful tear from your eye.

“it’s—” crap. rin didn’t know what to say. the words glitched on his tongue. it literally was drool. “just . . . go away!” he immediately stormed off, boiling with anger.

case iii.

rin had never kissed someone other than you. that must be known.

“mm,” you mumble appreciatively with his lips against yours.

“love . . . you,” rin murmured, his tongue striping along your bottom lip.

the faint sounds of the television pulsed alongside your guys’ smacking of lips. you tried guiding him, tried giving him implications on what to do. but he was a hothead — he apparently knew best.

his tongue was basically bruising your mouth. at one point it was just your teeth bashing against his. did he even notice how bad he was at this . . .?

wetness suddenly began oozing from your lips. it definitely wasn’t your own saliva that begun coating your chin.

kiss , smooch , kiss —

you had to pull back. so you did, leaving rin a little confused. you wiped your chin with the back of your hand and inspected it afterwards.

HAH. drool.

“rin you’re basically eating the bottom of my face,” you snicker.

rin genuinely gasped. his eyes twitched at the sight of his drool on your hand.

“oh my god—”

“no no,” you interrupt his frantic breathing. “t’s okay rinnie.”

“it’s disgusti—”

you interrupted him again — this time with a kiss. you pulled back, wiping his bottom lip with your thumb. all he could do was stare at you with wide eyes and glossy parted lips.

“it’s fine. really,” you reassure him. “i like your slobbery kisses. ‘cause they’re from you.”

rin’s face burned, his eyes sparkling.

“ew, you’re gross,” he replied, though with a lack of true bite.

aw, rin itoshi is so slobbery. he should be ashamed! though, you did have a soft spot for it . . . even if it was kind of gross, it meant something special. all those times his tongue would idly loll out his mouth, and the times he’d be vigorously sucking on the sleeve of his hoodie, it only sparked one thought in you.

he’s comfortable.

— ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Rindou: What’s that?

Ran: Remorse code.

you have five minutes.”

the voice doesn’t explain. no rules. no logic. just time. a threadbare gift.

rin doesn't ask what it means. he doesn’t care.

“i want to see her,” he says. his voice low. final.

five minutes. with you.

he blinks. and the world changes.

soft lighting. a kitchen bathed in gold. muffled jazz playing through an old speaker. a life he doesn’t remember building— but one that knows him.

then:

“rin, are you seriously reorganizing the spice rack again?”

he turns.

and the air exits his lungs.

you. older. softer around the eyes. dressed in his oversized shirt—half-buttoned, sleeves rolled. one sock on.

you look at him like he’s something ordinary. like you’ve woken up next to him a thousand times. like the sight of him—tired, bare-faced, slightly stunned—is just part of your morning.

“you alphabetized them.”

you’re squinting at the shelf. you hum.

“do we even have saffron?”

his lips part. he doesn’t speak. can't.

his hands tremble, just slightly.

you step closer, brow furrowed.

“hey... you okay?”

and then you're in front of him. gentle fingers on his jaw. your thumbs stroke just beneath his lashes.

and you’re so warm. so real. so terrifying.

“what’s wrong?”

his voice barely exists. just breath and longing.

“nothing.”

but you smile, soft and crooked. like it’s the most him thing he could’ve said.

you lean in. your lips brush his cheek. his eyes flutter.

and you whisper it like a promise:

“we’re okay.” “you’re okay.”

later, he’s lying with you on a sun-drenched couch. your limbs entangled like thread. the room smells like citrus and books.

your hand combs slowly through his hair. you’re humming something tuneless.

he doesn’t know what year it is. doesn’t know how he got here. only that he’s home.

your voice breaks the silence.

“you gonna fall asleep on me again?”

his breath catches.

“maybe.”

“you’re such a cat.” you yawn, eyes fluttering. “a grumpy one.”

he doesn't answer.

he’s too busy memorizing everything— the shape of your fingers. the weight of his name in your mouth. the tiny scar on your knuckle from a kitchen accident.

he thinks he might cry.

but the light starts to fade. edges blurring. your face softening like a dream slipping underwater.

five minutes.

too short.

he wakes up choking on silence. back in his room. back in his lonely seventeen-year-old skin. his heart clawing at his ribs.

you're not here.

but your voice echoes in his chest. your laugh sits in the hollow of his throat. your touch clings to his collarbones like saltwater.

and rin itoshi, the boy who wanted nothing, who trusted no one— presses his hands to his eyes.

because now he knows the truth.

he wants you. so much it aches.

pt 2

p.s: repost cuz that grammar intro made me cringe and gave me an aura loss 😞

tbh i feel like itoshi rin would be so insanely touch starved to the point if you even place ghost kisses over his face he'll go insane and start whimpering, face red and flustered

Yes, its been more than two months since my last post and my remodel job isn't even half done. But! I have forced myself to make time to paint a birthday present for @awritingcaitlin. So happy very late birthday!

Again, this is her OC Rinnie, performing a cultural water dance.