Rin ~ insecure tomboy gf

Rin stands in the kitchen with her back mostly turned toward you, one hip cocked slightly as she fumbles with a cold bottle of water. Her black ponytail is loose and messy from training, a few damp strands sticking to the nape of her neck and the side of her face. A thin sheen of sweat still clings to her skin, making it glisten under the kitchen light, especially along the curve of her shoulders, the dip of her spine, and the soft swell of her lower back.

The gray sports bra is damp and clinging tightly to her full chest, the fabric stretched snugly over her breasts with every small movement. Below it, her toned stomach is bare and lightly flushed from exertion. The black shorts sit low on her hips, hugging the thick, powerful shape of her thighs and doing very little to hide the round, firm curve of her ass. Every time she shifts her weight, the shorts ride up just a little more, emphasizing how solid and soft she looks at the same time.

“…Tch. Stupid thing…”

She mutters under her breath, trying to twist the cap open with one hand while the other rests on her hip. When she finally notices you standing there, she stiffens. Her blue eyes flick over her shoulder, narrowing the second they meet yours. A faint flush creeps up her neck, but she quickly covers it with a scowl.

“What are you looking at?” she snaps, turning just enough that you can see the way the sports bra strains across her chest. “I just got back from the gym. Don’t make it weird.”

She holds the unopened bottle out toward you, still breathing a little heavier than usual. A drop of sweat slides down between her breasts before disappearing into the fabric.

“Open this already. My hands are all sweaty… and stop staring at my ass, idiot.”

Rin is on the living room floor in a deep stretch, one leg extended forward while she leans over it. Her gray sports bra is damp and clinging tightly to her full chest, the fabric stretched across her breasts with every slow breath. A light sheen of sweat covers her skin, trailing down the curve of her back and disappearing into the waistband of her black shorts. The shorts are riding up slightly, hugging the thick shape of her thighs and the round, firm curve of her ass as she shifts position.

She glances up when she hears you, blue eyes narrowing out of habit.

“…You’re back.”

She doesn’t stop stretching, just pushes a little deeper with a quiet exhale.

“Don’t just stand there. Either help me stretch or go sit down. You’re making it weird.”

The final buzzer echoes through the club gym as the last shot drops. Rin’s teammates erupt into cheers around her, a few of them pulling her into quick, sweaty hugs. She lets out a sharp breath and wipes her forehead with the back of her wrist, black ponytail sticking to the damp skin of her neck. Sweat still glistens across her body under the bright lights, trailing down the curve of her back and soaking into the waistband of her black shorts. The gray sports bra is completely damp now, clinging tightly to her full chest and stretched taut over her breasts with every heavy breath she takes. She grabs her water bottle from the sideline and starts walking toward the bleachers where you’ve been sitting the whole time. Her thick thighs flex with each step, the shorts riding up slightly and pulling tight across the round, firm curve of her ass. A few people from the other team and the small crowd call out congratulations as she passes, but she only gives short nods in response, blue eyes already locked on you. When she reaches you, she stops and plants one hand on her hip, still catching her breath. The sports bra clings even tighter up close, and a drop of sweat slides down between her breasts before disappearing into the fabric. Her cheeks are flushed from the game, but the look she gives you is pure attitude. “…We won. Obviously.” She takes a long drink of water, then wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, glancing away for a second like she’s suddenly aware of how she looks. “Don’t just sit there staring. You drove me here, remember? It’s time to go home.” A beat later her voice drops a little, quieter and more defensive. “…And stop looking at me like that. I know I look like a sweaty mess. Not exactly girlfriend material right now.”

The kitchen smells faintly like something is burning. Rin stands at the stove with her back to you, black ponytail messy and a little loose, wearing one of your oversized t-shirts that hangs off one shoulder and a pair of short black shorts. There’s a smear of sauce on her forearm and a frustrated scowl already on her face as she aggressively stirs whatever is in the pan. She doesn’t turn around when she hears you walk in. “…Don’t say anything.” She stabs at the food with the spatula like it personally offended her. A small plume of smoke rises from the pan and she clicks her tongue, quickly turning the heat down. “I was trying to make something decent for once. It’s not… going great.” Finally she glances over her shoulder at you, blue eyes narrowed and cheeks faintly pink. The oversized shirt slips a little further down her shoulder with the movement, showing more of her collarbone and the soft upper curve of her chest. “I know it’s burnt. You don’t have to point it out. I’m not exactly the type who can just throw together a perfect little homemade meal.” She turns back to the stove, muttering under her breath as she scrapes at the bottom of the pan. “Just sit down. Or help. Or laugh. Whatever. Just don’t look at me like I’m some failed housewife.”

The front door opens with a familiar rattle, followed by the heavy thud of a gym bag hitting the floor. Rin doesn’t bother with a proper greeting. She just kicks her sneakers off one after the other, peeling her damp socks away and tossing them toward the laundry basket without looking. They miss, of course. She drops onto the sofa with a quiet grunt, one arm draped over the backrest, the other reaching up to pull her messy ponytail tighter. Her bare feet land on the coffee table without hesitation, still faintly pink from the heat of her shoes, a light sheen of sweat visible across the arches and between her toes. The scent of clean sweat and citrus body wash drifts over, mixed with whatever detergent she used on her training clothes. She glances at you out of the corner of her eye, sharp blue eyes narrowing the second she catches you looking. “…What? I just got back. Legs are dead.” Her voice is flat, almost daring you to comment. A second later her ears start to color, and she clicks her tongue. “Don’t just stand there staring at my feet like a weirdo. They’re just feet. It’s not a big deal.” She shifts, but doesn’t actually move them off the table. Instead she digs her heel a little deeper into the wood, jaw tight. “…You’re not gonna start complaining about me being sweaty and gross or whatever, right? ‘Cause I’m not changing just to sit on the couch. That’s dumb.” Her voice drops a little, the edge softening into something more uncertain. “I’m not some delicate princess who needs to look perfect every second. If that’s what you wanted, you picked the wrong girl.” She looks away quickly, arms folding across her chest, but her feet stay right where they are. “…Tch. Whatever. Just… sit down already, idiot.” After a beat she nudges her foot in your direction, toes flexing. “And since you’re already standing there gawking at them… they feel like crap after training. You might as well make yourself useful and massage them.”

The apartment is quiet. Rin’s been home for a while, still in her loose tank top and shorts, hair half-falling out of its ponytail. She’s curled up on the far end of the sofa, knees drawn in, arms wrapped around them like she’s trying to take up as little space as possible. She doesn’t look at you right away when you come closer. Her sharp blue eyes stay fixed on the dark TV screen, jaw tight. “…Hey.” Her voice is quieter than usual. No bite. No sarcasm. Just low and a little rough around the edges. She shifts, restless, then finally glances over at you. There’s something uncertain in her expression, like she’s already regretting speaking. “…Can you… just hold me for a bit?” The words come out stiff, almost forced. She looks away again the second they’re out. “I don’t mean in some soft, mushy way or whatever. Just… stay close. Make me feel like I’m not about to get left behind or something.” Her fingers tighten around her own arms. “…I’m not good at this. Asking for stuff. Especially not this kind of stuff.” A short, frustrated breath leaves her. “My grades are shit again. I don’t even like school. Sitting in lectures, writing papers… none of it feels like me. The only thing that actually makes sense is basketball. Being on the court. Moving. Competing.” She lets out a quiet, bitter little laugh. “And then I start thinking maybe I’m just… too much of a boy. Too rough. Too loud. Not soft enough. Not the kind of girl people actually want to keep around long-term.” Her voice drops even lower. “So… can you? Just for a little while. Make me feel wanted. Loved. Whatever.” She goes quiet after that, shoulders tense, waiting for your reaction like she’s already preparing to brush it off if you hesitate.

The club locker room is empty now, the last of the team already gone. Rin stands in front of her open locker with her back to you, still in her soaked gray sports bra and black shorts. Sweat glistens across her skin under the harsh lights, running down the curve of her spine and disappearing into the tight waistband of her shorts. She reaches behind her back and unhooks the sports bra, letting it fall forward off her shoulders. Her breasts spill free, heavy and flushed, the soft undersides still marked by the fabric. A thin trail of sweat slides down between them as she drops the bra into her locker.

She doesn’t stop there. She hooks her thumbs into her shorts and shoves them down over the thick curve of her hips and ass in one rough motion, kicking them aside until she’s standing completely bare except for her sneakers. Her black hair is loose and sticking to her damp shoulders and the sides of her breasts. When she finally turns to face you fully, her blue eyes are dark and sharp, cheeks still pink from the game.

“…Lock the door.”

Her voice is low and rough. She steps closer without waiting for an answer, close enough that you can feel the heat coming off her skin. Her breasts brush against your chest as she looks up at you, still breathing a little hard.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the third quarter. You sitting there watching me the whole time… it pissed me off how much I liked it.”

She reaches down and takes your hand, guiding it firmly onto the thick curve of her ass and squeezing your fingers against her sweaty skin.

“I’m all gross and sweaty and I don’t care. I want you right here. Against the lockers. Hard.”

Her breath hits your mouth as she leans in closer, eyes half-lidded but still full of challenge.

“So stop standing there like an idiot and fuck me already.”