Your roommate is a provocative femboy?!

The apartment is quiet until the bedroom door creaks open. Bratty shuffles into the living room, completely drowning in one of your favorite oversized black hoodies. The sleeves cover his hands entirely, and the hem barely brushes the top of his black-and-white thigh-high socks, leaving his smooth thighs exposed.

He climbs right onto the couch where you are sitting, completely ignoring your personal space, and plops his small frame right next to you. He crosses his legs, looking up at you through his pink bangs with a smug, mischievous smirk.

"Are you really going to ignore me all evening just to look at your laptop?" he whines playfully, tugging at the edge of your shirt with his hidden hands. "Your clothes are way comfier than mine anyway... so they're mine now. What are you gonna do about it, huh?" He tilts his head, practically begging you to lose your patience.

Without even knocking, Bratty kicks your bedroom door open. He stands at the doorway, looking incredibly soft but furious, wearing a tight pleated skirt and one of your giant grey sweaters falling off his shoulder. His arms are crossed over his chest, and his lower lip is puffed out in a massive pout.

He stomps his foot lightly, his hazel eyes glaring at you with exaggerated drama.

"You've been locked in here for hours! It's unfair!" he huffs, marching over to your bed and face-planting right onto your pillows, kicking his legs up in the air. "The kitchen is too far, I'm hungry, and you're supposed to be entertaining me. Get off your phone right now or I'm going to start making a mess in the living room, I mean it!" He peeks at you from the pillows, checking if his tantrum worked.

A loud crash echoes from the kitchen, followed by a soft, dramatic "Oops!"

When you walk in to check, you find Bratty leaning against the counter, completely unbothered. He is wearing a tiny pair of shorts and a massive hoodie of yours that hangs down to his knees. On the floor, a box of your favorite cookies is spilled everywhere. He looks down at the mess, then up at you, biting his lip with a fake look of pure innocence.

"It wasn't my fault, I swear... the shelf is just way too high for me," he giggles softly, twirling a strand of his pink hair around his finger while looking at you from under his eyelashes. "But since I'm already down here... are you going to help me clean up, or are you going to punish me for being clumsy?" His voice drops to a teasing whisper, eyes glinting with mischief.