#cushion price

[meowpupp]

Hi , im here with a thought, i can just imagine puppy reader crying to price about what kyle did and how she was just curious and she didnt really wanna disobey and to please not get rid of her and stuff like that , so kyles punishment is eating the reader out just exactly as price wants , price i feel like is more aggressive and less forgiving towards kyle compared to reader , i feel like price has that "nothing is your fault ♡" attitude for his sweet pup

pt1

owner!price x chubby!puppgirl x pup!kyle

tw//: p in v, oral (fem reciving), hybrid receiving, collars, rough sex, slight mention of overstim, fem reader, collars, probably my most filthy smut yet

prices heart breaks as you cry into his chest, clinging onto him tightly. in all his time with you, hes never seen you so distraught. your body is almost shaking, tail low and ears pulled back as you sob and babble. he just holds you tight, rubbing a big hand firmly up and down your back. “Shhh, s’okay pup. Talk t’me when youre ready, okay?” 

It takes almost ten minutes, tears still spilling down your face as you pull back to look up to him. “please, m sorry captain. i didnt mean t’break the rules,” your words are interrupted by uncontrollable hiccups and stutters, hands gripping his shirt tightly, “please sir, please don get rid of me. i promise ill be good!! wont ever break the rules again, please!!!” you break down into a fit of sobs again, whimpering into his chest as he holds you tight.

He easily lifts you up, your body melting into his as he sits you ontop him. you now straddle his lap, burying your face into his neck. its almost sweet, how youre so desperate for his comfort despite your expectation of rejection. price just holds you tight, hands firm and secure on your body, breath steady and soothing. once you calm, he slowly pulls the story out of you. every little detail. 

he tries to hide the way his face darkens as you speak, his eyes narrowing as you explain what kyle had done. once youre done, he sighs, hands still rubbing circles on your back. he glances over your shoulder, eyes lingering on the garage door. 

“stay here, okay? Be a good girl f’me and strip. kyles gonna say sorry for bein so mean.” with a kiss on your forehead, he lays you down on the couch, leaving you to follow his instructions. 

within ten minutes he returns, not even glancing at you as he enters. his eyes are trained on kyle, watching him closely. a leash is clipped to his sprenger collar. a new addition. 

he forces the other pup to kneel at your feet, hands forceful and grip rough. kyle is huge, broad-shouldered and muscular, looming over you between your spread legs, his eyes trained on your pretty cunt. you can almost see him drool, licking his teeth as he looks over your exposed body as if wanting nothing more than to grip onto plush waist and bury himself 9 inches deep. 

youre snapped back into reality as price tugs harshly on kyles leash, making the collar dig into his neck. “Speak, mutt.” the tone of his voice almost makes you curl into yourself. he sounds vicious, angrier than youve ever seen him. 

kyle eyes meet yours for the first time, “im… sorry.” he mumbles half-assed. you can tell hes itching for your soft body. its almost torture having you spread out for him, yet denied the permission to touch. 

price almost growls as he tugs the leash harder, causing kyles eyes to widen for a moment. “fuck, im sorry, i swear.”

price lets out a huff, pushing kyles head down, making him come face to face with your pretty cunt. “Show her, mutt. Apologise properly.”

its almost instant the way kyle buries his head in you. his hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you flush to his face. his nose bumping your clit as drinks in your slick. its perverted, the wet noises that fill the room, the way he groans as ruts into the couch as he devours you. 

price doesnt allow him an inch of space, denying him reprieve from your drooling cunt. his voice cuts through the mix of moans, directing kyle exactly what to do. telling him how fast, how slow, whether to suck your clit or thrust his tongue. hes almost cruel, tugging kyles collar harshly each time he doesnt listen, leaving angry red marks around his neck. 

but to you? well, how could he ever be mean to his sweet girl? a calloused hand cups your cheek, his low, growly voice talking you through your nth orgasm. he kisses your forehead, letting you hold his free hand tightly as your legs shake and your hips buck, your voice filling the room as you cry out. 

its only once kyles face is completely covered in your slick that he lets the pup pull away. hes panting, cock straining against his pants as he aches for release. kyles eyes meet prices, desperate and needy. “Captain, please, fuck,” his hands twitch as they hold your thighs, resisting the urge to pull your twitching cunt closer, “let me fuck her, ill make her feel so fucking good, have her screaming for you-” 

hes cut off, eyes wide as price harshly grips his jaw. “When are you gonna learn?” price reaches down, palming kyles growing tent, making the pup whine, “shes not yours to fuck.” he lets go, pushing kyle to the ground, denied and throbbing. 

price makes him watch as he gently picks you up, pulling you once again into his lap. your back presses to his chest, legs hooked around his knees, forced to spread. Price is quick to unbutton his pants, sinking you down on his fat dick. you can feel his hot breath tickle your neck as he laughs, finding amusement in the way your back bows as he forces himself deep inside you. 

his hands trail up the curve of your waist, coming up to cup your tits. he squeezes the fat, grinning as it bulges between the gaps of his fingers. you can both hear kyles whines, eyes trained on you as price starts to toy with your nipples for a moment. “moan for me pretty girl, let him hear how good i stretch out your tight fuckin cunt, how your pretty body belongs t’me.” his beard tickles you as his lips brush your neck, “bounce f’me pup, show kyle what hes missing out on.”

the roll of your hips is hypnotising, kyles eyes wide as he drinks in the sight. your tits slightly jiggle each time you come down, your thighs spread wide as price shows off your swollen cunt. “see that kyle? how she takes me?” price reaches out, gripping kyles arm and pulling. he lands with his cheek pressed against the soft pudge of your tummy, able to feel as price fills you with each thrust, “feel that?” price fucks up harder into you, making your body jolt as you squeak, “thats only for good fuckin pups.” 

he pushes kyle away again, leaving him to fall onto the floor, cock throbbing and aching as he watches your pretty cunt get ruined by your rightful owner <3

[hummingbird-games]

this sounds extremely fatalistic and especially insane to say during BHM from yours truly, but I'm spiraling and looking at data and the state of the world (& my country specifically) and the stories I want to tell and the people who stories are centered and...

I don't think I ever want to charge money for my games. ever. they'll be free for the unforeseen future because I'm not tanking my health further by stressing out over what hateful, racist, insane players think. I'm already catching strays from trying to have f!MC protagonists??? can you unpack why that makes you wanna lash out and be nasty?? but preferably with someone else that's not me.

people talk such a big game about diversity and being inclusive and listening to Black voices and then turn around do the exact opposite. every single time.

ugh, I have a queued post going up...tomorrow?? that's a reblog from last year, but a warning: I was a very different person with a very different well of energy when I wrote it and when I scheduled that reblog.

[sexatoxbridge]

Me getting the exact birthday gift that I told everyone I wanted

[burritosandpeppermint]

Time or Age?

Either my feet got used to wearing boots for months for the first time in my life and the transition to regular shoes is going to take a while

OR

I've hit that age where flat rubber-soled shoes (Vans, Chucks) just can't offer my feet what they need anymore. Lame.

[toyherb]

I can't find my copy of style savvy trendsetters this is a FUCKING disaster

[il3x]

i NEED to put chris elman under a weighted blanket. og lab rat too. sneaking up on him and draping the blanket over him like this

and while we're at it (breakthrough sensory accomodations). get one of these for kenzie

and let her and the Heartbroken play with yoga balls and a foam pit. they need to throw yoga balls at one another. it's the childhood they lost

[nytfythfhtyf]

i got funny platform crocs for my job because they were on clearance

[thedeviljudges]

got approved for a rental house and will finally be able to move out of this god awful apartment, but the whole process makes me so angry. like moving costs alone are expensive but it’s also all of the unnecessary added fees they tack on. the concert ticket thing is the big discussion but housing application fees? convenience fees for processing a card? like anything extra they can squeeze out of you on top of too expensive rent it’s fucking insane. people can barely (not really) even afford 3x rent, and it’s getting to the point that you need three incomes just to afford one place. like this whole process has made me so angry, and i’ve been angry about it for a long time, of course. but also just looking around and seeing just how many houses are for rent, that aren’t going toward families bc these investors and venture capitalists continue to buy up houses. i genuinely want to know how any of this is going to be sustainable, even within the next three-to-five years.

[anmolsmsblog]

Trajectory Travel Neck Pillow Rest Cushion for Travel and Sleeping in Plane Flight Car Train Airplane for Sleeping and Orthopedic Cervical Pain Black

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[fazalkhan2914]

Zamurd stone price in Dubai-Takatgemssr If you are looking for gems in the United States or Dubai, Takat Gems is a business that deals with premium-grade gemstones. We have a variety of stones from all over the world. We are a top business in Dubai. Visit now. https://www.takatgemssr.com/zamurd-emerald.html

[terronindia]

When it comes to protecting delicate items during shipping, a cushion packing machine is an essential tool. These machines create air-filled cushions that provide a buffer against shocks, vibrations, and impacts, ensuring that your products arrive at their destination in perfect condition.

[tesmare]

Top 10 Fabric Trends to Refresh Your Home Decor in 2024

As we step into 2024, the world of home decor continues to evolve, bringing fresh, innovative fabric trends that can transform any space. From sustainable materials to bold patterns, the fabrics you choose can make a significant impact on the look and feel of your home. Whether you're planning a complete renovation or simply looking to update a few elements, here are the top 10 fabric trends to refresh your home decor this year.

1. Sustainable Fabrics

Sustainability is no longer a niche interest; it's a mainstream priority. Fabrics made from organic and recycled materials are gaining immense popularity. Organic cotton, linen, hemp, and recycled polyester are leading the way. These materials not only reduce your carbon footprint but also offer durability and a natural, earthy aesthetic. Incorporating sustainable fabrics into your home decor is a step towards an eco-friendlier lifestyle.

Tip: Look for certifications like GOTS (Global Organic Textile Standard) or OEKO-TEX® to ensure the fabrics meet high environmental and social standards.

2. Bold Prints and Patterns

2024 is all about making a statement with your fabric choices. Bold prints and patterns, including geometric designs, florals, and abstract motifs, are in vogue. These patterns can add a dynamic and lively touch to any room, making your home feel more vibrant and personalized.

Tip: Mix and match different patterns to create a unique and eclectic look. For example, pair a bold floral cushion with a geometric patterned rug.

3. Velvet

Velvet continues to be a favorite for adding a touch of luxury and sophistication to home decor. Its rich texture and sheen make it perfect for upholstery, cushions, and curtains. Available in a wide range of colors, from deep jewel tones to soft pastels, velvet can suit various decor styles, from traditional to modern.

Tip: Use velvet cushions or throws to add a luxurious feel to your living room or bedroom without overwhelming the space.

4. Earthy Tones

Earthy tones are dominating the color palette in 2024. Fabrics in shades of terracotta, olive green, mustard yellow, and warm browns bring a sense of calm and grounding to your home. These colors work well in both minimalist and bohemian decor styles, providing versatility and timeless appeal.

Tip: Combine earthy tones with natural materials like wood and stone for a cohesive and harmonious look.

5. Textured Fabrics

Texture plays a crucial role in creating depth and interest in home decor. Fabrics with intricate weaves, embroidery, or raised patterns are gaining popularity. Textured fabrics add a tactile element to your space, making it more inviting and cozier.

Tip: Incorporate textured fabrics through cushions, throws, and rugs to add layers of interest without changing the overall color scheme of your room.

You may also like: A GUIDE TO ADDING GLAMOUR TO YOUR DECOR

6. Metallic Accents

Metallic fabrics are making a comeback, adding a touch of glamour and modernity to home interiors. Fabrics with metallic threads or finishes can be used in small doses to create a striking impact. Think metallic cushions, throws, or even upholstered furniture for a bit of sparkle.

Tip: Balance metallic accents with matte or neutral fabrics to avoid an overly flashy look.

7. Botanical Prints

Nature-inspired designs continue to thrive, with botanical prints leading the trend. Fabrics featuring leaves, flowers, and other natural elements bring the outdoors in, creating a fresh and tranquil atmosphere. These prints are versatile and can be incorporated into various decor styles, from rustic to contemporary.

Tip: Use botanical prints on curtains or upholstery to make a bold statement, or opt for smaller items like cushions and table runners for a subtler touch.

8. Layered Fabrics

Layering different fabrics is a trend that adds depth and richness to your home decor. Combining various textures, colors, and patterns can create a visually intriguing and comfortable space. Layered fabrics are particularly effective in living rooms and bedrooms, where they can enhance the cozy and inviting feel.

Tip: Layer a mix of cushions, throws, and rugs in complementary colors and patterns to achieve a well-coordinated yet dynamic look.

9. Artisanal and Handcrafted Fabrics

There is a growing appreciation for artisanal and handcrafted fabrics that tell a story. Fabrics created using traditional techniques such as block printing, hand weaving, and embroidery add a unique and personal touch to home decor. These pieces often showcase exceptional craftsmanship and cultural heritage.

Tip: Incorporate handcrafted fabrics as focal points in your decor, such as a handwoven rug or an embroidered wall hanging.

10. Multifunctional Fabrics

With the rise of multifunctional spaces in homes, fabrics that offer versatility and durability are in high demand. Stain-resistant, easy-to-clean, and outdoor-friendly fabrics are becoming essential for busy households. These fabrics allow you to maintain a stylish home without compromising on practicality.

Tip: Use multifunctional fabrics for high-traffic areas like living rooms, dining rooms, and outdoor spaces to ensure longevity and ease of maintenance.

Conclusion

Staying on top of fabric trends can help you create a space that feels current and inviting. In 2024, the focus is on sustainability, personalization, and functionality. By embracing these trends and moving away from outdated styles, you can transform your home into a modern sanctuary that reflects your unique personality and values. Whether you choose to incorporate bold colors, invest in sustainable materials, or integrate smart home technology, the key is to create a space that feels both stylish and comfortable.

Tesmare can offer a variety of curtains and cushion covers in bold, vibrant geometric and floral patterns in their home collection, providing you with the perfect options to stay ahead of the trends and enhance your living space effortlessly. Additionally, small decor accessories like table covers, cushions, curtains, showpieces, and paintings in vibrant and bold colors can make a big impact, adding layers of color and texture to create a personalized and lively environment.

By thoughtfully selecting fabrics that align with these trends, you can refresh your home decor in a way that is both fashionable and functional. Whether you prefer the timeless elegance of velvet or the contemporary appeal of bold prints, there are endless possibilities to explore in the world of home decor fabrics.

[chrollobabymama]

cant stop thinking about needy nanami

its been a while that you have been friends with him, and theres a few signs here and there from both of you but you havent taken any next steps

he is so fed up and so are you, no one is admitting that you are both touching yourselves to the thought of the other but the tensions is there

one night, youre hanging out at your apartment and having a few drinks, then when everyone else leaves its just you and him

and his eyes are dark and tired, the lights are dim in your living room, the whiskey in his hand is almost done, and your stupid little dress is just clinging onto your hips in a way that drives him insane

the whole time that you and the rest of the gang were talking about shitty bosses and how the gas prices have gone up, all he could think about was how he needed to lift up the end of your dress and make you come on his fingers

the moment the door closes and your last friend leaves, he scoots closer to you on the couch and takes your half empty wine glass from your hand, setting it on the table and caressing your thigh

he brings his face closer to yours, and when youre about to kiss him on the lips, he drops to your neck and sucks and kisses

you bite your lip and sigh while he inhales your scent, which is sending even more blood straight to his dick

your hands reach to touch his firm chest, and you relax into the soft cushions

he grabs your hips and keeps on kissing, only bringing his head up to look at your eyes

"let me fuck you baby please, ill fuck you really good i promise" he begs

but when you give him the green light all of that attitude is gone, the soft pleas are history, this man is fucking you roughly and leaving marks and bruises all over you despite the fact that he was just begging you to let him have you

[cinnammonfairy]

poly141 & f! reader ♡ | slight somno, smut, squirting, a whole lotta cum, piv ༝

"pretty thing welcoming us home like this."

"been teasing us so much 'fore we left, 's only right that we fuck you good now hm?"

barely comprehending your situation in your state of lethargy, your bones still weary with sleep, your eyes blinked open to price sitting next to your curled frame on the spacious couch. his hands grabbing your flimsy camisole to push the cotton fabric down, exposing your tits. you gasped as you lumbered slowly awake to gaz peeling your shorts off and down your legs, price lifting your upper body to rest your head upon his lap.

"w-what?"

"s okay darling, we'll take good care of you."

simon manhandles you up on your knees on the soft cushion, your knees pressed open wide by gaz revealing your panty clad cunt to his and soap's gaze. you blinked up at price, tears now pooling in your eyes. he smirks and presses a soft kiss upon your forehead, strong fingers cupping your cheek to keep your gaze firmly on his, he must find your reactions to this unexpected foray amusing.

"i- i didn't know you guys would be home s-so soon!"

you exclaimed exasperatedly, tone rising in pitch when soap takes hold of your panties and pulls to reveal your pussy lips, the minuscule fabric now only covering and pressing tightly against your clit.

"and what a pretty gift we got waiting for us here at home."

"we've been waiting so long to fuck you baby, and we come home to you like this sweetheart..."

tears spill from your eyes, as john chortles and rubs them slowly away.

"nothing to be 'fraid of darling"

you jerk in simon's grasp as you feel fingers slip your panties to the side, baring your pussy to the cool air. fingers that are wending it's way to your clit, rubbing tight circles over the nub as your legs trembled at the unexpected yet pleasant stimulation.

"can see your little hole clenching sweetheart, does she need something baby? she want my fingers and my cock yeah?"

gaz dips his fingers slowly in your now weeping hole, and thrusts shallowly, johnny's thumb now engulfing your clit rubbing firmly, drenching gaz's fingers with more of your slick.

"already so wet darling, so ready for my cock."

tears cling to your lashes as you feel the blunt head of gaz's cock rubbing over your slit, gathering your wetness and tapping harshly against your clit. your face still held in price's grip, looser now that you can turn your head to watch gaz as the head of his cock enters your hole, easing his way in one thrust, engulfing his cock in your tight, wet hole. he groans at the warmth suffusing his cock, your pussy's grip on his thick cock tight as a vice. you moan at the intrusion, your hole stretched to forcibly take the entirety of his manhood in a solid thrust.

price brings your face up to his as gaz starts thrusting, bottoming out in every thrust, the wet sounds of your pussy accommodating his cock and the plap of skin against skin, price slotting his lips over yours to get a taste of you an effort to appease you, to get you even more pliable than you already currently were. your pussy clenches tightly gripping gaz's cock as price pries his tongue into your mouth, johnny's fingers back on your clit as if impatient to witness your release.

"go on darling, come on my cock sweet girl."

"such a good lass."

you felt the twitch of gaz's cock as you came, him following not long after, his milky cum gathering on your hole and dripping down his balls with the force of your orgasm and his continued thrusts to ride out both your highs. pressing a kiss on your shoulder he eases his cock out of your cunt, the spill of his cum obscenely pooling out of your hole and down your thighs, making a mess of the couch.

your legs still firmly in place by simon, who's bulge is at your eye level, your eyes widened at the sudden feel of another cock, undoubtedly johnny's if the sudden handful of your ass that he was currently grabbing to pull you and fill you with his cock was anything to go by. the frantic thrusts and fingers that never left your clit and continued toying with your pebbled nipples, grabbing every inch of your skin that he could fondle. his moans a surprising delight as you mewled when his cock reached particularly deep parts of you in his eagerness. drenching his cock in your cum, he didn't hesitate to pump you full of his in return.

now limp yet still alert in simon's hold, he handed you over to price his fingers digging into your hips, his pants and boxers open just enough for his cock to be out. sinking you down on his cock and elevating you so he could thrust from below, deep into your pussy.

"good girl baby, such a good girl f' me."

"taking my cock so well yeah? pretty pussy feels like it was made just for us baby."

price's thrusts were slower, making a point to reach your more sensitive spots that made you moan so pretty on top of him. you cried out in overstimulation, the mess of cum spilling from your messy hole lubricating his fat cock, the filling stretch making you whimper and wail, docile on his chest.

"oh don't cry baby, just a little bit more. pretty pussy gonna make me cum. gonna fill you up sweetheart."

you came at the rough scratch of his happy trail over your clit, a quivering mess on his chest as he pumped you full of his cum.

you were a disarray who was put back together again the moment simon stuffed you full of his cock in a mating press, his cock the thickest and most filling of them all, you felt stretched wide yet he was ever so patient in feeding you every inch. kissing you, as his heavy balls slapped against your ass with every deep thrust of his cock, the vulgar stretch of your hole to take his cock. it was no wonder that you squirted over the sheer stimulation of his thrusts, making a mess of his abdomen at your release over his thrusts, the slick pool of cum a lewdly gathering mess over his cock and your cunt.

"such a pretty girl squirting on me like that, pretty cunt loved my cock so much she couldn't help but make a cute mess."

the mess of cum and squirt dribbling out of your gushing hole they'd contend was their greatest masterpiece.

ᡣ𐭩 idk guys .... i was just itching to write smth even though i know this probably isn't the best i hope you guys will enjoy it all the same though <3 should have a longer fic up sooonnn! this was mostly written for those who were looking for gaz in my other drabble actually hhehe

© cinnammonfairy.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

FIREFLIES NEVER CAME ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; your seat is close to the heater. that’s the only reason gojo comes there to warm up.

word count; 4.2k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, teen!satoru, set in a canon au, mutual pining, fluff, a little bittersweet (melancholic winter vibes <3), introvert/extrovert, reader is antisocial and dense as a brick (black cat vibes :3), also kind of self-deprecating, satoru is very shoujo manga coded, just lots of puppy love!! feat. wingman!suguru <3

a/n; this wasn’t meant to be a fic …… it was gonna be really short and sweet ……… (T_T) anyway i am very fond of this reader/character dynamic so i hope you enjoy reading abt my emotionally stunted kids 🫶 biggest mwah in the world dedicated to professor logan (@staryukis) for teaching me about physics so i could find a loophole in satoru’s infinity :3c all for the sake of lore-accurate (kinda) fluff <3

”what are you listening to?”

your seat is close to the heater. 

it was nothing but a lucky draw, really. yaga-sensei was organizing the desks when you transferred, and so he gave you the first choice; one you had no trouble making, latching on to the chair in the very back, right by the window, right by the sole heater of the room. vital for surviving your chilly winter classes. 

so there you sit. a warmth sneaks through your fuzzy socks, tends to your restless legs. your feet tap and tap, on the cold floorboards, in rhythm with your never-ending thoughts, spinning like a planet in orbit.

through the fogged-up, frosted glass of the window to your left, you observe the world. headphones covering your ears, safe and snug, muffling all noise. you watch as snow falls, wholly entranced, eyes stuck on the icy snowflakes descending from the wool-gray sky — blanketing the frostbitten landscape of the courtyard. it’s pretty, all those skeletal trees, glittering and gleaming like they have something to say. sometimes they look like stars.

”… hey. did you hear me?”

gojo is being particularly chatty, today.

out of the corner of your eye, you see him wave his hand right in front of your face. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s rude; he must be used to all eyes being on him, from the moment he speaks.

with a flutter of your lashes, you lift your weary head. meeting his gaze, the blurry shine of your own visage, reflected in his circle-frame glasses. a soft tilt of his head, and then his lips are twitching upwards, just barely, snowy strands gliding across his forehead and falling over his face. like an excited puppy.

”what are you listening to?”

you read the words off his lips, all sound muffled by your headphones. quick to lift one of your hands, pulling one of the heavy ear cushions away — letting all white noise in the room flood your senses. the snarls of the wind outside, ieiri’s laughter, the scribbling of geto’s pen against paper. 

it’s overwhelming, but a small price to pay. his voice is softer than usual, during moments like these; there’s a pleasant lull to it.

gojo tips his head to the right, still awaiting your response. all you can do is stare, watching your own reflection, fingers gripping onto the edge of your desk. as if seeking to ground yourself.

with a spoonful of hesitance, you part your lips.

”… do you like music?”

the words seep out into the air, a softly exhaled breath. gojo watches you, silently, for just a moment.

then he gives you a shrug.

”i guess?” he hums, shifting his weight from one foot to another — hand slipping into the pocket of his uniform. ”that’s more suguru’s thing.”

ah.

your mouth forms around the syllable, as if responding, but not making any sound. gaze fleeing from his glasses, crumbling under their weight, straying towards the frosted window to your left. safe, familiar, rotting trees and twitching branches. snow just as pure as the boy in front of you.

silence overtakes you both, once more. 

”... not gonna answer?” he asks, with another tilt of his head, absently rocking side to side as he lets out an exhale. ”is it a secret, or something?”

(it is, you think. but you can’t say it out loud.)

before you can part your lips again, the classroom door slides open — and you know it’s yaga-sensei just by the way his feet hit the floorboards, the decisive weight behind every step. you know even before he’s telling you to get back to your seats. 

on cue, gojo stands up straighter, shooting you another glance. bright-eyed, easy-going, every star in the sky leaping out from the glimpse you get of his eyes when he angles his body. two blue pools, flecked with white, like frozen puddles in the street. 

and then he’s strolling away.

gojo leaves, and you take off your headphones; stretching your legs underneath the desk. reaching for your ballpoint pencil, flipping open your textbook, and indulging in sleepy blinks, as yaga begins to drone on and on. you stifle a yawn with the sleeve of your blazer, resting your jaw on the heel of your palm. eyes inevitably straying towards a head of white hair.

but your name is called before you can get lost in your daydreams. 

”page 27, from the top.”

your chair scrapes against the floorboards, as you sluggishly stand up. holding onto your textbook, flipping the pages until you land on the correct passage. with shaky hands, not enough to notice, you read out loud; voice controlled, almost monotone. all you can think is that you feel his frost-clad eyes on you, from the row straight ahead.

but you continue to speak. you speak until you reach the end of the page, until you’re allowed to take your seat again, happy to feel the warmth of the heater radiate against your legs. it’s this warmth that’s important, the most important thing of all.

without it, gojo wouldn’t bother to stop by your desk.

nearly every recess, as soon as yaga leaves the classroom, he’s waltzing over — leaning against the wall, stretching his arms out, purring contentedly as heat spreads throughout his body. you think he must run cold. chatting with you, just to pass the time, just until your teacher comes back. just to warm up.

then he’s leaving, again.

that’s all it is. a cold boy, and a heater by your desk — a conversation that otherwise wouldn’t have occured. even the strongest is vulnerable to changes in temperature, you suppose.

though if warmth is all that binds him to you, it’s bound to dwindle away.

(you’re sure he’ll stop as soon as spring comes.)

the next day, gojo is nowhere to be seen. you saw yaga-sensei drag him out of the classroom this morning; something about a clan meeting, something you weren’t paying attention to.

but now you wish you had.

(it’s quiet, without him around. eerily so.)

with nothing to lose, and nothing else to do — you push your chair away from your desk, and walk up to your classmate, a question on your mind.

”… music? are you looking for recommendations?”

you nod. 

geto blinks. caught off guard, you’re sure, surprised that you’d approach him without any prior coaxing. he’s usually the one striking up a conversation with you, like a responsible class president, making sure the weird kid doesn’t feel left out. you’re almost certain he doesn’t realize that it’s patronizing.

”hmm... well, that depends.” he gives you a smile, soft around the edges. it never feels as genuine as gojo’s, but it’s calming. ”what kind of music do you usually listen to?”

…

you glance down at the floor. bundling up the cuffs of your uniform, fingers clawing softly at the fabric, bottom lip trapped between two sets of teeth.

”… what kind of music does gojo like?”

silence. your words are barely spoken, just above a whisper, just like always, but geto picks up on them anyway. you can tell he does, can feel the weight of his keen eyes on your face. analytical.

then he parts his lips.

”… ohhh.” a low hum, ripe with meaning, buzzing at the bottom of his throat. the corners of his lips quirk up into a knowing smile. ”i see.”

heat rushes to your cheeks, blossoms under your skin. if he notices, he’s even more composed than you thought he was, because he doesn’t mention it. only continues to speak, in that soothing voice, crossing his arms in silent thought.

”hmm…” you follow his gaze, out towards the window, the same webs of frost as always. it’s not snowing, but you still can’t see the blue of the sky. ”i’ve never seen him listen to music before, so i wouldn’t know.”

you can’t help but deflate, at that.

geto only smiles. exhaling, through his nose, mildly humoured — though he’s good at hiding his amusement. ”… what do you think that means?”

a blink. your lashes flutter, as you gaze up at him. 

”… huh?”

”satoru doesn’t listen to music, but he wants to know what you’re listening to.” he says the words almost coachingly, like he’s listing off a string of numbers. you realize he must have been listening in on your conversation, but it doesn’t bother you nearly as much as his tone. ”what do you think that means?”

…

(you haven’t got a clue.)

geto lets out a chuckle, laced with mirth, no longer trying to hide it. paired with a soft shake of his head, a crinkle to the corners of his eyes. ”why do you want to know about his taste in music, then?”

(… that’s a good question.)

he seems to notice your hesitance, your apprehension, the way your teeth seek to trap your bottom lip; always the victim of your muddled mind. you know the answer, of course you do — but it isn’t something you want others knowing. 

thankfully, geto breaks the silence for you.

”i don’t think you need to try so hard, when it comes to him.” his voice is soft, almost sincere, something warmer than usual. glancing away when you meet his eyes. ”… he isn’t worth the effort, anyway.”

but that’s where he’s wrong.

satoru gojo is a special case. a special person. in the orbit of your life, there’s no star you’d rather keep — no one quite as ripe with colour. 

geto couldn’t possibly understand, because gojo is always with him — always orbiting around him. he always will, until you graduate, probably even beyond that. geto has him. they’re the strongest, a pair, always matching their steps to one another. but you only have these quiet days, these chilly classes in between never-ending missions — and that’s all.

when the frost outside the window thaws, gojo will surely stop visiting your desk. your lonely little world. 

that’s exactly why — you need to find a song. if you just teach him about something wonderful enough, if you can give him something other than warmth…

(… maybe he’ll stay with you even after spring comes.)

”next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?” 

geto’s suggestion breaks you out of your thoughts. when you raise your head, to meet the warm pools of amber in his eyes, he gives you a smile. there’s nothing patronizing about the way he’s looking at you now — if anything, you think it may even be slightly fond, but you can never tell what he’s actually feeling. he’s frightening, like that, always a mirror to his circumstances. a chameleon, tilting his head at you.

… though you can’t help but fall victim to the kindness in his eyes. the velveteen purr of his voice.

”i’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

a nervous pit opens up in your chest, an empty space that gnaws incessantly at your heart. will he?, you want to ask, but it feels like the words are made out of lead. you can’t get them out of your throat.

”… okay,” is all you end up whispering, a soft lull of your tongue. ”i’ll try… thank you.”

geto rewards you with a full smile.

”don’t mention it.”

spring is closer than you thought.

it’s all you can think, when you step onto the pavement, when you feel the morning air gnaw at your frostbitten cheeks. it’s freezing, it’s winter, but the signs of changing seasons are still there — a lonesome snowdrop, the crackle of an icy puddle beneath your feet. the frost is beginning to thaw. 

in a month or so, spring will be here — there’s no stopping it.

”did you bring your card?”

your headphones rest around your neck, allowing you to listen in on your classmates' conversation. all four of you are together, for once, all first-years, walking towards the nearest konbini — at gojo’s insistence. 

it’s been a week since you had that talk with geto, but you still haven’t made any progress with him.

”huh? was i supposed to?”

”… are you kidding me?”

you glance up at the pair. always walking just a little bit ahead, their tall statures obscuring the view in front of you; shoko lags behind, with lazy steps, a trail of tobacco drifting out into the crispy air. all while snowflakes fall from the sky, gently, landing in your hair, on your shoulders, melting on the inside of your palm when you hold it out to catch them. watching as they turn into droplets of water, slip through the gaps between your fingers. 

someone taps your shoulder.

geto has snowflakes stuck in his hair. they’re melting, in the strands of ink-black framing his face, matching the colour of the thick polo jacket he’s wearing. a bright red scarf is tied around his throat, and there’s a weighty look in his eyes — something telling.

a silent cue.

he falls back, slowly but surely, into ieiri’s lazy pace. not before murmuring something unintelligible to gojo, and shooting you a wink — one that makes you frown, confused, a low heat blooming at the base of your spine and crawling up your neck.

and then you realize what he’s done.

gojo is looking right at you, through the black glass of his specs. only wearing a baseball jacket, no gloves or scarves to keep him warm, despite the harsh bite of the open air. for a guy who runs cold, he must not put much thought into his clothing. 

more importantly…

it’s just the two of you, now.

you blink at him, silent as a mouse. it only takes a moment for him to start moving, for you to follow, taking your place beside him while staring right ahead. if he’s bothered by geto slinking away, he doesn’t show it — only continues to walk.

”… that’s so unfair.”

gojo’s voice breaks the silence. you turn your head to gaze at him, the way his lips wrap around the vowels, haphazardly hanging onto every word he speaks.

”just ’cause i have clan money,” he kicks at a pebble on the side of the road, wisps of white hair swaying with a shake of his head, ”suguru thinks i should pay for our snacks. isn’t that unfair?”

you hesitate. then you nod along, absently.

he seems to take that as a yes, because it makes him brighten — as if gleaming with your approval, standing a little straighter, puffing out his chest with an exhale that turns into white smoke.

”right? they only give it to me because they want me to come back to kyoto, anyway…” he trails off, holding the tip of his tongue between his lips. ”… not that it matters. anyway, i just think he’s oppressive.”

”… mm.”

from this angle, you can see a sliver of his eyes. can see the way he steals a glance at you, without even turning his head — hands slipping into his pockets. there’s a moment of silence, until he’s parting his lips again. 

”… i can buy some for you, though.” 

(you barely pick up on the words, spoken almost in a whisper — as if an afterthought.)

he clears his throat.

”… if you don’t have the money, i mean.”

you can’t help but blink, at that — lashes fluttering in rapid succession, wondering if you heard him correctly. he doesn’t seem keen on elaborating, though. walking on, ignoring all snowflakes descending from the sky, eager to nuzzle in between his locks. his infinity keeps them out. 

”… why?”

it’s all you can say. all you can verbalize.

(in a story like this, why would the brightest star of all orbit around someone like you?)

gojo gives you another glance. his iris cuts into your skin, observes you on what you’re sure must be a molecular level. he lets silence linger, for a moment, tipping his head back to look up at the sky.

gray, and more gray. flecks of white. you’d see the same thing he does. 

”hmm…” he lets out a breath, head falling forward again, snowy strands ghosting against the skin of his forehead. ”let’s call it a trade.”

another series of blinks. 

gojo turns towards you, then — a fresh grin blooming on his lips. white teeth, pink gums. it makes him look boyish, innocent, just another city boy with too much time on his hands.

”i buy you snacks — and you tell me what music you’re always listening to.” he bends his body forward, tilts his head at the same time, all lanky and charming, like a big cat. ”deal?”

you stay silent.

he’s looking at your headphones, still left neglected around your neck. your gaze falls down to the icy concrete, the thin layer of frost, waiting to be melted by the first sunrays of spring. whenever that will be. 

geto and shoko are still behind you — you can hear their low, muffled chatter, smell the remnants of tobacco in the air. and you swear you can practically hear geto’s words, echoing through your head.

(why do you think that is?)

gojo is still looking at you. expectantly, lips curled up into a lazy smile. he’s waiting, you know he is, and you also know he isn’t very good at that. you know a lot of things — what you don’t know is what to say. you don’t know if you can believe in whatever geto was insinuating, don’t know if you can grapple with your own longing to do so. 

(next time, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?)

geto doesn’t get it. he doesn’t know what your feelings towards gojo truly look like. doesn’t know that what’s on your mind when he’s around is always something horrifically embarrassing. something like, i want to know more about you, or maybe i wish i could tell you more about me. something awfully cheesy, like — i’m jealous of how bright you shine, but i can’t help but like you anyway. 

if i become your friend, would it be okay to say i understand your loneliness? that i notice it, even just by a fraction?

would that be okay with you?

(words that should be left unspoken.)

”… well, it’s not like you have to.” gojo exhales, again, the words a heavy weight seeping past his throat. his shoulders slump, as he turns forward, fingers trailing up to scratch at the back of his neck. 

all you can think is that he’s getting ready to leave. that nothing will change, at this rate, that spring will wash winter away. that geto should be more direct with his advice, and that if it’s not the music itself that gojo is interested in knowing more about, then surely —

” — i don’t listen to anything.”

gojo stills. the words have flown past your lips before you can reach out and grasp them, slicing through the open air.

he spins around, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose at the sudden motion, exposing his widened eyes. those white lashes, fluttering softly, like a pair of doves eager to get above ground. you grip onto the insides of your pockets, warm and cozy against your freezing hands — it grounds you, keeps you tethered down to earth, down to him. 

”music,” you continue, sputtering slightly, as if your lungs don’t quite know how to work under pressure. winter air seeps into your windpipe, cuts the skin there. ”i don’t listen to music.”

you lift your hands, fingers curling around the soft earmuffs wrapped around your neck, hesitantly meeting gojo’s gaze — an overlapping sequence, blanketing his view. then you’re gazing down. 

”it’s just… comforting,” you try to explain, speaking softly. ”to wear them. white noise.. tires me out, so…”

the sentence trails off, unfinished. you feel silly. silly for saying anything at all, for building it up so much. silly for being the way that you are.

but when you look up at gojo, he’s brightened like a star.

white teeth, pink gums, that breathtakingly boyish grin. his blue eyes gleam with colour, almost spilling over the corners, like watercolour paint on a too-small canvas. he tilts his head, looking at you carefully, as if truly seeing you for the first time; absently swaying side to side. 

if he had a tail, you’re sure it’d be wagging.  

”i see!”

a silent breath spills into the air. your lips part, but no sound comes out, only vapour; heart pumping blood through your writhing veins, warming you up from the inside, a co-conspirator to the heat blooming in your cheeks. gojo continues to speak.

”i guess that counts,” he nods, crossing his arms with a satisfied hum. ”alright. i’ll get you any snacks you want! you can be greedy, it’s okay.”

a murmur of thanks escapes you, although you’d like to tell him there’s no need. something tells you denying him this would be like taking another step backwards, in this budding connection between you.

(… if you can even call it that.)

geto and ieiri catch up to your unmoving figures, finally, and only then does gojo spin on his heel and pick up his previous pace. calling back to you over his shoulder, a smile you can’t see but still hear.

”just don’t give any of it to those two, yeah?”

”cheapskate,” ieiri calls back, lone cigarette hanging between her lips. geto lets out something like a chuckle, his shoulder brushing up against yours.

you watch gojo’s back as he moves forward. unbothered, untethered. you think of him a snowflake in the breeze.

spring is almost here, now. it’s a bittersweet feeling, to know your conversations during recess will surely dwindle out — but at least you’ll have had this. one normal conversation, the knowledge that he was curious about you, even if you may just be the classmate by the heater in his eyes.

you’re too cold to keep him warm all on your own, so there’s no helping it. you’re willing to accept that some stars only show from the surface during winter. 

you’re willing to accept this. it aches, a little, but you’ll be okay. 

”i’ll take it things went well, then?”

geto is wearing his signature smile, when you look up at him. an expression of carefully concealed composure, lips curled up, but a knowing look in his eyes — something that borders on teasing.

you give him a nod, a bow of your head, to silently convey your appreciation. chameleon or not, you don’t really mind his ways. it’s hard to fake the warmth in his voice, when he speaks.

”i’m glad.”

the two of you watch gojo’s back, like birds gazing out at a body of water. silence lingers.

”won’t that moron get cold?”

ieiri’s voice cuts through the mold of your mind, low and gravelly, right beside you. she’s pointing towards gojo — the flimsy jacket he’s wearing. 

you’re wondering the same thing.

geto casts her a glance over your head, before gazing down at you, seemingly noticing your curiosity. he lets out a low hum; reaching a hand out to brush away the snowflakes on his shoulders. 

”temperature,” he begins, slipping his hands into his pockets; that familiar coaching tone to his voice, purposefully slow. ”is just a measure of atoms in rapid motion.”

you tilt your head, in tandem with ieiri — looking to your classmate for further elaboration. he seems to enjoy your confusion, lips curling up just a bit. gojo calls out to you, in the distance, waving both his hands, and geto returns it with a wave of his own.

an amber eye flicks towards you, an explanation on his tongue. ”his infinity can regulate that motion.”

… another tilt of your head.

geto lets out an amused breath. it scatters out into the air, a cloud of smoke, almost a chuckle.

”basically…” he sighs. ”he does just fine, in the cold. don’t worry about it. he’ll keep himself warm.”

ieiri mutters something, beneath her breath, something like you could have just said no, but you don’t really hear it. you think your heart must have climbed up, somehow; got caught in your windpipe. 

ah.

gojo can keep himself warm.

the thought spins inside your mind, over and over, a realization that makes your inner palms feel clammy. stupid, silly, this pitter-patter of your heartbeat. but what else could it mean? if the cold doesn’t bother him, if he doesn’t run cold, then…

(he wouldn’t need it. he wouldn’t need it here, wouldn’t need it during recess, within the chilly walls of your classroom. he wouldn’t need it to stay warm.

gojo isn’t after your heater. if that’s true, then…)

…

you bury your nose in the soft wool of your scarf. breathing in the fading scent, vanilla and cinnamon, grounding you to earth, lingering in your nostrils. distracting you from the rush of warmth, that blooms in the frostbitten apples of your cheeks. 

as if sensing your thoughts, or maybe just noticing your embarrassed expression, geto laughs — soft and breathy, shoulders shaking to your left. you hear it, only nuzzling deeper into the comfort of your scarf. feeling your heartbeat spin out of orbit.

in the distance, gojo continues to wave, yelling out something unintelligible. you could mistake him for a star.

spring is almost here, now. in just a month or so, it’ll be at your doorstep — waltzing right in. 

(but you aren’t worried.)