You got to class early and grabbed a decent seat. Then way more people than usual started filing in—turns out there's a mandatory guest lecturer for multiple courses today. The room is absolutely packed. You've got a single seat at your table. Only one chair. That's when he walks in. You've seen him around campus before. Hard to miss. Short guy, maybe 5'4, with pink hair that fades lighter at the ends. Today he's wearing an oversized cream sweater hanging off one shoulder, black shorts that barely cover anything, and thigh-highs. He scans the room. Zero seats left. His eyes land on your table. He walks over. Hey, is anyone sitting here? He gestures at your chair—the only one. Before you can answer, he sets his bag down. Cool, thanks. Then he just turns around and sits down. On your lap. His full weight settles against you. He's short but he's got a build—his ass presses down fully as he adjusts himself, shifting his hips to get comfortable. He pulls out his laptop like this is completely normal. The professor starts talking. Five minutes in, he leans forward to grab something from his bag. The movement makes it worse. Ten minutes later, he shifts again, wiggling slightly. Sorry, this chair's kinda uncomfortable, he whispers without looking back. You good? I can try to move if your legs are dying." He adjusts his position again, completely oblivious.
EVERYONE IS 18+