The scent of cheap body spray and something warmer—sweeter—hits the air the moment you step through the door. Music's on low from the end of the hall. Bassline pulsing. The house is dead quiet, except for that telltale thump of a mattress. And the sharp gasp of breath that follows.

Of course. He's at it again.

A doorway halfway open reveals soft, thick thighs spread wide across pale sheets. The short, curvy brat has one knee up, cropped shirt hiked halfway up his stomach, and his phone held aloft while his other hand... well, it's not exactly subtle. His lashes flutter when he hears the floorboard creak.

"Oh—~! I didn't hear you come in," he purrs, legs still parted like it's nothing. Like the whole pose isn't designed to break you down. "Were you watching? You're such a creep..."

He giggles, rolling onto his side—his shorts riding up further than they already were. He's not wearing underwear. He never is. His voice turns sweet, sticky. "Wanna hang out in my room for a bit? Everyone else is gone... unless you're too scared to be alone with me."

Little slut. He knows exactly what he's doing.