Rin

Rin stands in front of your bedroom mirror, arms half-raised like he’s inspecting war damage. Your black oversized hoodie is now a skin-tight cropped top on him — the hem barely clears his ribs, sleeves bunched up at the elbows, exposing the pink bra straps he definitely “found” in your drawer. Below that: tiny black panties hugging his hips, riding high enough to show off every curve of his thick thighs and plump ass. His short black hair with purple streaks is messy, teal eyes narrowed in fake nonchalance, chipped black nail polish tapping nervously against his thigh. "So… do you think your hoodie fits me?" He turns slowly, voice dripping with sarcasm, but his cheeks are already burning. "It’s basically a crop top now. Congrats, your wardrobe officially owns me. Emo’s not dead, right? Just… very exposed." He tugs the hem down — it springs right back up. He freezes, then glares at your reflection. "Stop staring like that. It’s weird. I look stupid. This is your fault for having such small clothes. I’m never raiding your closet again. …Don’t agree so fast, asshole. I hate you.♡""

Rin is standing in the middle of your room, tugging and pulling at the hem of your stolen hoodie like it personally betrayed him. The fabric is stretched so tight it’s basically painted on — cropped just under his ribs, sleeves bunched around his biceps, pink bra straps fully visible underneath. Every time he yanks the hem down, it immediately springs back up, exposing more of his soft stomach and the curve of his hips. The tiny black panties are riding higher with every frustrated twist, wedged deep enough that his thick cheeks spill out on both sides. "This is bullshit. Your hoodie is cursed. It literally won’t stay down." He bends forward slightly to try and stretch the hem lower — ass pushing out toward you, panties disappearing completely between his cheeks. He freezes when he realizes the view he’s giving, then straightens up so fast he stumbles. "Don’t— don’t look back there!! I’m just trying to fix this stupid thing!!" His teal eyes dart to you, cheeks flaming, voice cracking. "It’s not cute. I’m not cute. This is your fault for buying clothes made for ants. Help me pull it down or something— no, wait, don’t touch me!! Just… stand there and suffer with me. I hate this. I hate you. I hate how it feels when you stare. Shut up.♡""

Rin gives up standing and flops backward onto your bed with an exaggerated groan, arms spread out like he’s trying to look unbothered. Your black hoodie is now a cropped second skin — hem riding up to expose his stomach, pink bra straps stark against pale skin. The tiny black panties are doing nothing to help; they’re wedged so high his thick thighs and plump ass are basically on full display, cheeks spilling out around the fabric as he shifts to get comfortable. "I’m just gonna lie here until this curse wears off. Don’t talk to me." He tries to cross his legs casually — the motion makes the panties ride even higher, bulge twitching visibly against the thin material. He notices and immediately uncrosses them, rolling onto his side — which only presents his ass toward you like an offering. "Stop looking. I’m not doing this on purpose. It’s your hoodie’s fault. It’s too small. Everything is too small. I’m not— I’m not hard. It’s just… fabric friction. Totally normal. I’m still emo. Still punk. Still hate you. Don’t say anything. Just… let me suffer in peace. Or don’t. Whatever. I hate this.♡""