#technical study group

[tcifob]

fifatrainingcentre Two-time FIFA Women’s World Cup winner Tobin Heath analyses how the two No9s and two No10s in Salzburg’s 4-2-2-2 formation pose a range of problems for their opponents Pachuca – and how their clever movement pulls defenders out of position.

By overloading the centre, they isolate the full-back, then manage to find him in plenty of space – creating a great chance.

Heath also won back-to-back Olympic gold medals (2008, 2012), and her club career includes stints with Paris Saint-Germain, Portland Thorns, Manchester United, and Arsenal.

[gayvampyr]

i feel like community is one of those shows that can’t really be explained, only experienced

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Multiamory Month, Day Nineteen: Chatfic/the polycule groupchat (Running Headlong Into The Bullshit AU)

We're almost out of the teens in Multiamory March (as seen on @polyamships), and it's time for another interesting prompt: "Chatfic/the polycule groupchat!" A look at how a given polycule might gather together technologically. And much like with "Day Twelve: Explaining/mapping the polycule," I immediately decided that this one had to involve my Running Headlong Into The Bullshit mega-polycule. Because if any of my polycules need a group chat to keep up with each other, it's THEM. XD Anyway, here's a glimpse of said group chat, with them trying to coordinate a night where they could all actually hang out together -- and not succeeding very well...

--

MakeYouSmile: okay folks

MakeYouSmile: we really need to do another Whole Polycule Movie Night already

MakeYouSmile: when’s everybody free?

ButterflyBoy: The ninth works for me.

VorpalOne: Unfortunately, Nanny’s invited me to dinner that night to catch up. How about the eleventh?

CommonwealthMinuteman: I’ve got a meeting of the Creative Anachronism Society over at the local history museum, and that shit always runs late. Twelfth?

MoonlightDancer: no can do :( have to cram for a test in my business management class. fourteenth?

10/6: Have an appointment to adjust the fit on the old arm and leg again, and I doubt I’ll be up for much socializing afterwards. Let’s try going backwards instead – eighth, anyone?

KnightlyCuisine: I’m hosting my brother and sister for the day – eighteenth?

RepressedFlower: I’m afraid my parents will be hosting me then – Mother has been very insistent I come home and visit, and that was the latest date I could get away with. The nineteenth, perhaps? To give me something to look forward to?

PublickOccurrences: damn it – I’d technically be free, but Nick and Ellie are gonna be out of town – going to see Nick’s weirdo brother – and I don’t have anyone else available to keep an eye on Nat. How about

MakeYouSmile: hang on hang on HANG ON

MakeYouSmile: what are we all doing TONIGHT?

ButterflyBoy: ...nothing?

VorpalOne: Just some studying, and Wonderland’s already distracting me from that.

CommonwealthMinuteman: I am free and clear!

RepressedFlower: Just some embroidery – I can certainly set that aside for later.

MoonlightDancer: free :D

KnightlyCuisine: I can bring my ‘gunpowder’ popcorn!

10/6: Want me to bring the special iced tea?

PublickOccurrences: ...let me just check with Nick – fingers crossed he doesn’t put a damper on the evening, everyone!

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Something something about Buck and learning and or teaching.

Something something about Buck teaching when he really needed to be learning.

I just keep thinking about how the show has increasingly - especially last season - put Buck into the role of 'teacher' - including his coma dream. (i'm using teacher for the lack of a better term!) and how in the aftermath of the coma dream - he's been trying to teach but it hasn't worked - instead he's been learning.

I've been musing on the fact that even back in season 1 Buck has been in a teacher role -

Abby learning to chose herself and go for her happiness,

Bobby learning to let people in and Buck being a major part of that because of their developing father-son type relationship

'teaching' Eddie that he could rely on other people for help

Maddie learning at Bucks hand that she didn't need to keep running, that she could lean on him for support and build a new life for herself

Ravi being tutored by Buck in the fire house

even Lucy being given advice by Buck - teaching her through his own experiences in dumb luck

Buck making himself into a teacher in his coma dream and the idea that all these people he has helped teach teaching him that he has a place with them and that he is important

and so many more examples through the seasons that I won't list or I'd be here forever!

Because there has been a lot of emphasis on teaching and learning since Buck woke up from his coma - he learnt he was good at maths, but then wasn't allowed to help Chris with his maths homework because it would be cheating.

used his maths skills to win at Poker - but got taught lessons even in victory - rather than teaching others lessons (whatever they might have been)

Natalia being interested in him because he could teach her about death and things going south pretty quickly when it became evident that Buck needed to learn how to live again rather than be stuck in death

And now we've had several mentions by Tommy of him teaching Buck things - teaching him to fly, teaching him Mauy Thai, all the way to him being his bi awakening is teaching him about a part of himself he didn't know. Things are turned on their head - Buck is the student not the master now

Even with Eddie this season, we've seen him teaching Buck things - rather than Eddie learning from him - Eddie handing over this really important thing going on with Chris - Eddie knowing that Buck would be a better option - that Chris would open up to him more - is teaching Buck about his importance in the Diaz family - re-enforcing that he is part of their life. Its also Eddie who has had the good advice for Buck this time rather than the other way round.

Something something about 'you like to be the guy with the answers' to Buck becoming the guy with the (maths) answers - only for it to fade away and now he's having to learn

Something something about the tie to Buck and death and the resurrection and how Christ was the teacher up to and immediately after his death and resurrection when he left others on earth to spread his teachings and he ascended to learn at the right hand of god

Something something about how that is the key to happiness and that is what Buck has figured out and that is why his journey to figuring that out has had him wearing the bright blue - because in Christianity - that shade of blue is the colour of the kingdom of heaven (because it is the colour of the sky!) so putting Buck in it at all these key markers of his journey is showing him as being on the road to ascension.

This post is a mess - I don't even know what it is any more! I started with one idea about teaching and Tommy and then more kept coming and we ended up here!!!!

[sysig]

2024 Art Purge (Part 1)

Original Edition again! Another year of too many doodles between original and fanart that didn’t make the full cut over the course of the year - off we go!

I made some concept art for smol early in the year of a mushroom girl she had a dream about a while ago that she wanted to try making as a low-poly model sometime. Pretty sure we've narrowed it down to the original DS-era style of 3D models

And so some angular low-poly style doodles were also called for! She's so tiny haha

Around the same time I was thinking about ZEX's “Kissing Strangers” meme, I started considering what Charm's reaction to that one might be - I'm always trying to think of animation memes for her, I'd love to animate her sometime ♥ In the end, it was all a bit too weird! In a way it’s fitting, as the meme is all about Looking and not finding the one you want to kiss til the very end lol, but who would that even be! Who would Charm Want to kiss, I don't know...

[Purple Text] only got a very little bit of screentime this year, but they're just as weird and possessive as ever - once, forever and always, at least according to how they see things

Smol and I tried out a few different creative games over the course of the year - my favourite probably being the Crossover Wheel where we each put in our list of fandoms, including ones we share, and then imagine what a crossover would be like haha. House Hunted is one of hers, and she tossed the idea my way of looking at Zillow Listings (specifically this group) and imagining them as Realtors! I got the Sunflower House - you'll know it when you see it haha

Bit of a random one, but I thought the sheep from this little scene was hecka cute and needed to study her. Good shapes! Very adorable! I like her covered eyes quite a lot, and her spindly little legs, funny to me hehe

I also wanted to study her "Leg of Lamb" posing - can you tell this is memory vs. references lol. S'why references are so important! The original's delicate posing is very lovely! The soft positioning of her knees and ankles and the way she's fully reaching across herself with those fluffy "sleeves" are probably my favourite parts, it's a good pose!

Haven't done any Halfway Autumn concept art in a while-while, so why not come back with Diana's bathroom lol. Still a bit of work to be done, moving the door is probably the biggest point - having the leftmost wall lined with counter space is clearly the correct play here. I really like the shapes that naturally occur from isometric, like the way the shower curtain rod connects to "nothing" but it still reads as stopping at the wall! :D

All of this floorplanning just for some flavourtext about Diana's preferred style of hand soap haha. Foaming soap dispensers are the best! Makes everything much much clearer, definitely not just because I prefer it, it's totally objective! Haha

More bathroom flavourtext, either at the schoolhouse or the train station, or both! Since so much of the game is centered around Diana's needs, little things like what soap she uses actually impact the game! I wish something so simple wouldn't affect my day, but sensory needs are called needs for a reason :P

Started a Charm comic that unfortunately only got as far as the first panel haha - she's taking a class! Off to improve her skills at something in a group environment! Good for her :)

Or not, the sads are here :'0

Did a bit of Tsumtsum studying while drawing the Helix boys as such haha - I have one of those little Vocaloid not-Tsumtsums (they're only Tsumtsums if they're Disney, right?), and one full-sized Iron Man one that I studied the approximate shapes of the pattern from, they don't Look complex and they're probably not Actually that hard to make but there's still a good bit to them! 3D shapes, I swear

The 4th Wall group! Their poses and expressions changed a bit from start to finish, Cory once again looking at Bar - I don't think he's actually "seen" Bar's new design before this point! :0 They're all generally aware of each other but "actually interacting" is a whole other thing haha

The two stragglers, made Tala way too tiny here haha. And forgot her bow here, no wonder I forgot it for the full version too! Pfbtl, next time :P

A traditional version of the Just Desserts map! :D Made after putting the digital version together, just kind of loosely studied, general shapes good for mapmaking :) I quite enjoy the little mountain texture here over the one from the digital version! S'hard to make nice-looking shapes without my tablet but I really didn't want to use it Just for that haha, so nice shapes here! Gives me DQIX map vibes, just a little bit... All those little islands to sail to haha

Snake, snake, snaaake, it's a snaaaake ♪ Made for smol's Christmas exchange ostensibly, but really more of a spacefiller and to get into the swing of drawing snakes, the cute lads

Ball python in the style of a ball of yarn! I wouldn't mind wrapping up a plush snake, but the way real ball pythons curl up into a ball is too cute haha

Here was the Actual snake I ended up making for smol - as a bookmark! I printed a few different versions, coloured one like this with extra-dark spots for the scales, and glued on a ribbon-tongue, cut down the middle for a forked look! :D She liked it, and I like it! Double victory :)

A little sticker concept while my laptop was out for attempted repairs - can't save 'em all I suppose. I do like that the head mirror is a disc, the stethoscope is a mouse, cute little details even for an unfortunate set of circumstances

[astranauticus]

Rolling With Difficulty as texts I have saved on my computer for some reason

(i drew every day for like a month straight and burnt out so have this nonsense instead)

[shadowedvales-gone]

not that i even include any of the nina project canon on this blog, but what really annoyed me about it all [i mean, basically everything to do with the storyline lmao] is that jane continued to call brenner papa. he claims they're “father and daughter”, offers his hand to her, and she takes it in order to continue the work. she confirms he is her papa. by calling him that, it continues to implement that he is some kind of role model or positive figure in her life. the fact that she didn't confront him about her childhood until he physically stopped her from leaving, and put the shock collar around her neck, is wild to me. all of jane’s development from the very first episode is amazing. at the end of season one she associates “bad” to brenner, after spending one week with the boys. one week compared to eleven years with brenner.

yes she did try running away from him the moment she saw him, and she was only thinking about helping her friends in working with nina, but she would not have put up with his behaviour towards her. she knew who he was at that point, and if not just to her, then to her friends: he faked will’s death, threatened to kill the boys, and most importantly destroyed her mothers life. anyway. the point of this post, is that after season two and her experience with kali, the man who hurt terry, and brenner’s vision, she only refers to him as brenner. there is no more papa. she is not giving him that credit, or allowing him to have that possession over her. if he were to ever come up in conversation, he is brenner, and that’s it.

which, on that note, i believe jane would stop referring to terry as 'mama' and instead simply call her 'mum.' when jane is looking through the documents regarding hawkins lab in the cabin, she sees terry for the first time, and realises she is her mother. without thinking, she calls out for mama, [not ma, not mother, not mum etc] the title already engrained into her from her so-called father: in that moment she still believes brenner is her father, and this woman is her mother. so they are both automatically mama and papa in her perception, the only parental titles she really knows of thus far. she's connecting these two vastly different people together by titles, which may seem simple on the outside, but has far more meaning within. the word papa will always be tainted to jane, and once she finds out about her real father, andrew rich, she would never call him papa, so why would she call terry mama? 'mama' is immediately associated to 'papa' and when jane grows up a little more and comes to realise these titles connect to one another, she only calls terry her mum or mother.

[fashiun-killa]

One thing about me is I am very unforgiving about politics. You can't befriend queer people while voting their rights away.

[castielafflicted]

i officially have an instagram that i have to use sometimes :(

[tcifob]

Tobin Heath via IG stories - June 20, 2025

[alyanas-little-hideout]

Sorry for posting notes but it's actually worth mentioning that taxonomy is a predecessor for determining how different creatures are related based on shared physical characteristics but, importantly, doesn't presume evolutionary mechanism in the same way that phylogeny- that is, basing the connections between animals on the percentage of shared genome data- does.

Phylogeny has 0 concern for shared physical characteristics- a hyrax and a whale are more closely related than a whale and a shark, for instance, despite the shared body plan and lifestyles of sharks and whales and the completely unrelated body plans of hyraxes and whales.

Also phylogenetically -fish don't exist as a group -lobe-finned fish encompasses all land animals -sharks and ray-finned fish are more distinct than any land animal is from another -trees don't exist as a group -birds are dinosaurs, which are reptiles, which are amphibians.

and other fun oddities of biology.

which of my household appliances am i most closely related to

[reasonsforhope]

"The first modern attempt at transferring a uterus from one human to another occurred at the turn of the millennium. But surgeons had to remove the organ, which had become necrotic, 99 days later. The first successful transplant was performed in 2011 — but even then, the recipient wasn’t immediately able to get pregnant and deliver a baby. It took three more years for the first person in the world with a transplanted uterus to give birth. 

More than 70 such babies have been born globally in the decade since. “It’s a complete new world,” said Giuliano Testa, chief of abdominal transplant at Baylor University Medical Center.

Almost a third of those babies — 22 and counting — have been born in Dallas at Baylor. On Thursday, Testa and his team published a major cohort study in JAMA analyzing the results from the program’s first 20 patients. All women were of reproductive age and had no uterus (most having been born without one), but had at least one functioning ovary. Most of the uteri came from living donors, but two came from deceased donors.

Fourteen women had successful transplants, all of whom were able to have at least one baby.  

“That success rate is extraordinary, and I want that to get out there,” said Liza Johannesson, the medical director of uterus transplants at Baylor, who works with Testa and co-authored the study. “We want this to be an option for all women out there that need it.”

Six patients had transplant failures, all within two weeks of the procedure. Part of the problem may have been a learning curve: The study initially included only 10 patients, and five of the six with failed transplants were in that first group. These were “technical” failures, Testa said, involving aspects of the surgery such as how surgeons connected the organ’s blood vessels, what material was used for sutures, and selecting a uterus that would work well in a transplant. 

The team saw only one transplant fail in the second group of 10 people, the researchers said. All 20 transplants took place between September 2016 and August 2019.

Only one other cohort study has previously been published on uterus transplants, in 2022. A Swedish team, which included Johannesson before she moved to Baylor, performed seven successful transplants out of nine attempts. Six women, including the first transplant recipient to ever deliver a baby back in 2014, gave birth.

“It’s hard to extract data from that, because they were the first ones that did it,” Johannesson said. “This is the first time we can actually see the safety and efficacy of this procedure properly.”

So far, the signs are good: High success rates for transplants and live births, safe and healthy children so far, and early signs that immunosuppressants — typically given to transplant recipients so their bodies don’t reject the new organ — may not cause long-term harm, the researchers said. (The uterine transplants are removed after recipients no longer need them to deliver children.) And the Baylor team has figured out how to identify the right uterus for transfer: It should be from a donor who has had a baby before, is premenopausal, and, of course, who matches the blood type of the recipient, Testa said...

“They’ve really embraced the idea of practicing improvement as you go along, to understand how to make this safer or more effective. And that’s reflected in the results,” said Jessica Walter, an assistant professor of reproductive endocrinology and infertility at Northwestern University Feinberg School of Medicine, who co-authored an editorial on the research in JAMA...

Walter was a skeptic herself when she first learned about uterine transplants. The procedure seemed invasive and complicated. But she did her fellowship training at Penn Medicine, home to one of just four programs in the U.S. doing uterine transplants. 

“The firsts — the first time the patient received a transplant, the first time she got her period after the transplant, the positive pregnancy test,” Walter said. “Immersing myself in the science, the patients, the practitioners, and researchers — it really changed my opinion that this is science, and this is an innovation like anything else.” ...

Many transgender women are hopeful that uterine transplants might someday be available for them, but it’s likely a far-off possibility. Scientists need to rewind and do animal studies on how a uterus might fare in a different “hormonal milieu” before doing any clinical trials of the procedure with trans people, Wagner said.

Among cisgender women, more long-term research is still needed on the donors, recipients, and the children they have, experts said.

“We want other centers to start up,” Johannesson said. “Our main goal is to publish all of our data, as much as we can.”"

-via Stat, August 16, 2024

[curlicuecal]

playing science telephone

Hi folks. Let's play a fun game today called "unravelling bad science communication back to its source."

Journey with me.

Saw a comment going around on a tumblr thread that "sometimes the life expectancy of autism is cited in the 30s"

That number seemed..... strange. The commenter DID go on to say that that was "situational on people being awful and not… anything autism actually does", but you know what? Still a strange number. I feel compelled to fact check.

Quick Google "autism life expectancy" pulls up quite a few websites bandying around the number 39. Which is ~technically~ within the 30s, but already higher than the tumblr factoid would suggest. But, guess what. This number still sounds strange to me.

Most of the websites presenting this factoid present themselves as official autism resources and organizations (for parents, etc), and most of them vaguely wave towards "studies."

Ex: "Above And Beyond Therapy" has a whole article on "Does Autism Affect Life Expectancy" and states:

The link implies that it will take you to the "research studies" being referenced, but it in fact takes you to another random autism resource group called.... Songbird Care?

And on that website we find the factoid again:

Ooh, look. Now they've added the word "some". The average lifespan for SOME autistic people. Which the next group erased from the fact. The message shifts further.

And we have slightly more information about the study! (Which has also shifted from "studies" to a singular "study"). And we have another link!

Wonderfully, this link actually takes us to the actual peer-reviewed 2020 study being discussed. [x]

And here, just by reading the abstract, we find the most important information of all.

This study followed a cohort of adolescent and adult autistic people across a 20 year time period. Within that time period, 6.4% of the cohort died. Within that 6.4%, the average age of death was 39 years.

So this number is VERY MUCH not the average age of death for autistic people, or even the average age of death for the cohort of autistic people in that study. It is the average age of death IF you died young and within the 20 year period of the study (n=26), and also we don't even know the average starting age of participants without digging into earlier papers, except that it was 10 or older. (If you're curious, the researchers in the study suggested reduced self-sufficiency to be among the biggest risk factors for the early mortality group.)

But the number in the study has been removed from it's context, gradually modified and spread around the web, and modified some more, until it is pretty much a nonsense number that everyone is citing from everyone else.

There ARE two other numbers that pop up semi-frequently:

One cites the life expectancy at 58. I will leave finding the context for that number as an exercise for the audience, since none of the places I saw it gave a direct citation for where they were getting it.

And then, probably the best and most relevant number floating around out there (and the least frequently cited) draws from a 2023 study of over 17,000 UK people with an autism diagnosis, across 30 years. [x] This study estimated life expectancies between 70 and 77 years, varying with sex and presence/absence of a learning disability. (As compared to the UK 80-83 average for the population as a whole.)

This is a set of numbers that makes way more sense and is backed by way better data, but isn't quite as snappy a soundbite to pass around the internet. I'm gonna pass it around anyway, because I feel bad about how many scared internet people I stumbled across while doing this search.

People on quora like "I'm autistic, can I live past 38"-- honey, YES. omg.

---

tl;dr, when someone gives you a number out of context, consider that the context is probably important

also, make an amateur fact checker's life easier and CITE YOUR SOURCES

[hannnsh]

ooo joelscar wizards be upon ye 🪄🪄🪄

i’ve had this au for a while but havent rlly thought abt it a lot … i just want my joelscar content tbh. im also gonna mix in grian to the group later bc i alrdy have a role for him (crazy bird guy w an obsession w eyes) dont ask, even i dont know, i just need them tgthr again okay, i miss my 100 hardcore trio 😢 life series teamup when ????

i dont have much lore but joel is sick and is on a journey to find the ingredients for the cure of said sickness, he is technically a witch ig not a wizard, he alrdy graduated wizard school idk. scar is a wizard that does tricks and stuff, he also graduated wizard school a few years earlier than joel. he tags along w joel to find the ingredients w him for some reason i still dk why, and they go on crazy journeys tgthr :3

they travel via scar’s wagon and does shows lol, for money and scams people. along the way they meet a weird bird man, who had tried to steal scar’s (?) eyes, but they made a deal and whatnot and then grian tags along w them. joel occasionally steals eyes for grian :3 (gribeans my beloveds)

i think thats it for now, i should rlly stop drawing and start studying lmao 😭😭 im working on a smalletho au with aquarium worker joel and florist etho lol, im slowly building the au

[shelovesosa]

DON’T BE FOOLED BY THE PINK

PAIRING: PopularBF!Satoru X Meangirl!reader

SUMMARY!! Y/N is the undisputed queen of the school — captain of the cheerleading team, untouchable, and fiercely protective of her spot at the top. Then she shows up: the quiet new girl, sister to one of Satoru’s closest friends, and instantly wrapped in the basketball captain’s attention. But this isn’t your typical “new girl steals the spotlight” story.

(Mean girls collection masterlist here!)

East Kinsen University’s courtyard was loud with first-week energy — new students darting between buildings, upperclassmen lounging in clusters like they owned the place. And in a way, you did.

Your legs crossed as you sat on the concrete ledge outside the gym, black sunglasses shielding your eyes from the early fall sun. People walked by and either greeted you or looked away too quickly. Your reputation had that effect.

You were Y/N. Captain of the cheer squad. Satoru Gojo’s girlfriend. Pretty, well-dressed, impossible to ignore. People either wanted to be you or wanted to see you trip.

You didn’t care either way.

You took a slow sip from your iced coffee and glanced at your phone. He was late. Again.

When Satoru finally showed up, he was in his usual post-practice look — basketball shorts slung low on his hips, hoodie sleeves pushed to the elbows, hair damp and messy from the gym. He wore that same loose grin he always had when he saw you.

“You're not slick,” you muttered, eyebrows raised. “Fifteen minutes?”

He leaned down, kissed your cheek. “Technical meeting ran over. Coach wants to murder Kaito for slacking on defense.”

“Again?”

“Every day.”

You smiled despite yourself. Then your gaze flicked past him.

Trailing behind him, slightly hunched, was a girl you didn’t recognize.

Wavy dark hair, headphones in, a stack of books clutched to her chest like a shield. She wore a plain long-sleeve top and jeans, the kind of outfit that made her easy to miss.

But Satoru was walking with her.

He turned and gestured lazily. “Yo, Y/N — this is Yui. She’s Daichi’s little sister. First year. He asked me to show her around since he’s got classes all day.”

You took your sunglasses off slowly.

Daichi was one of Satoru’s closest friends. A solid guy. Chill, never talked much. You knew him mostly through late-night study groups and group hangouts at the courts.

Yui blinked like she hadn’t expected you to even look at her.

You didn’t smile. You nodded.

“Hi,” she said softly, voice nearly drowned out by the noise of a passing skateboard.

Satoru nudged her shoulder with casual ease. “She’s a little shy. But she’s cool.”

You gave her a once-over. The oversized backpack, the nervous posture, the way she avoided your eyes. Not a threat. Yet.

That afternoon, you ended up at the dining hall with Satoru’s usual crew — Daichi, Ren, Kaito, and Satoru. You weren’t always there, but today you felt like being visible.

Yui tagged along, of course. Satoru pulled out a chair next to him. You were about to sit down when she sat there instead.

You watched her blink in slow realization.

“Oh—sorry,” she murmured, half-standing.

“It’s fine,” you said before Satoru could speak, sitting on his other side instead. You glanced across the table at Kaito, who watched the whole thing happen with unreadable eyes. He quickly looked away when you caught him.

Halfway through lunch, someone asked how Yui liked her classes.

“They’re okay,” she said. “I’m still figuring everything out.”

“She’s in one of my psych lectures,” Satoru added, casually. “Professor’s a lunatic. Screamed about pigeons today.”

“She’s passionate,” Yui said with a small laugh.

You stared at her. You weren’t used to other girls laughing with your boyfriend.

By the end of the meal, it was clear: she wasn’t trying. She wasn’t flirting. She wasn’t competing.

And that’s what made it worse. She didn’t have to try. She was already in the room. At the table. In Satoru’s words. Laughing at his jokes. And no one noticed the shift. Except you.

It started with a laugh. That was all. Not yours — hers.

It was in the student union lounge, Thursday afternoon, when you heard it. You were across the room, near the coffee counter with Ren and Daichi, scrolling through your phone while they argued about fantasy league picks. Satoru had said he’d be “five minutes.”

He was ten.

And when you looked up, he was there — across the room, slouched over the vending machine with Yui beside him. She had her hair tied in a low, messy knot and was holding a can of green tea. Something he said made her laugh. A soft one. Quiet. But familiar.

It wasn’t flirtatious. Just… familiar.

You watched as he bumped her shoulder lightly, like he’d known her longer than two days. You saw how she looked up at him — not like she wanted him, but like she trusted him already.

That was worse.

Friday afternoon, you passed the quad on your way to class and spotted Satoru sprawled on the grass with Kaito, Daichi, and Yui.

No one invited you. You weren’t mad. You were just... watching.

Yui sat cross-legged, sketching something in a small spiral notebook. You recognized the style — fine pen lines, heavy shading. She was talented. You could admit that. Quietly.

You didn’t stop to say hi.

Saturday night was when the first crack showed.

You were at Satoru’s place. His roommate was out, the lights low, your jacket on the floor, and your legs draped over his lap. You weren’t fighting. But something was off.

He was scrolling through his messages absently, the glow of his screen lighting up his face.

You leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back — quick, distracted.

“Who’s texting?” you asked casually.

He didn’t flinch. “Daichi.”

A beat of silence. Then you saw the edge of a photo — something black and white, drawn in ink. You blinked.

“Is that one of Yui’s sketches?”

He looked up at you, surprised. “Yeah. She showed me earlier and I told her to send it. It’s of the court. Cool, right?”

You stared at him.

“She drew the basketball court?”

“She said it helped her focus. It’s kind of sick.”

You smiled tightly. “Yeah. Sick.”

Monday, you sat at your usual table in the campus café — the long one by the window. Satoru had just come back from the gym, towel over his shoulders, hair damp. You were halfway through a protein bar when he slid into the seat across from you.

You expected him to kiss you hello. He didn’t. He was texting.

You leaned forward. “You good?”

“Huh?” He looked up. “Yeah. Just — Yui left her psych notebook in the gym. I told her I’d drop it off.”

Of course he did. You took a sip of your drink and looked away.

The worst part was how quiet it all was. No one was flirting. No one was lying. It wasn’t that kind of story. But you still felt it — this silent invasion of space. Your space. Your people. Your boyfriend.

And every time you said something about it, it sounded ridiculous. Satoru wasn’t doing anything wrong. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.

That night, you got a DM on Instagram.

From Kaito.

She’s not doing it on purpose, you know.
But I still don’t like it either.

You stared at the message.

Then you closed the app.

You didn’t realize the group hang was happening until it was already halfway underway.

Daichi sent a lazy text in the guys’ chat about grabbing food after evening classes, and somehow that had turned into a full table reservation at Yuu’s Ramen Bar downtown. You weren't even in the chat — Satoru texted you separately, told you the plans like you were being added to something instead of hosting it.

The first subtle shift.

You met them outside the restaurant. The weather was cooling, breeze tugging at your cropped jacket. You looked good. You always looked good — perfect makeup, clean lines, skirt just high enough to remind everyone you were her. You used to walk in and own the room.

But tonight, the room had already shifted. They were standing around, waiting for the last of the group. Daichi, Kaito, Ren, Satoru… and Yui.

She was wearing a dark sweater and plaid skirt, sleeves too long, hair tied with a ribbon. She looked like she didn’t mean to be there. That’s what made her presence so hard to challenge.

“Hey,” she greeted, voice quiet.

“Hey,” you said flatly, brushing past her to Satoru’s side.

He leaned down, gave you a quick kiss to the temple. “Glad you made it.”

You tried not to glance at Yui, but you felt her eyes on you.

Inside, the table was long. You sat between Satoru and Ren, across from Daichi and Yui.

You didn’t know who made the seating call, but it irritated you.

Yui ended up next to Daichi, but she kept glancing at Satoru across the table. You saw it. You weren’t going to mention it. Not yet.

The boys were loud, laughing over miso bowls and fried gyoza. You tried to stay in it — laughed when Kaito told a story about freshman year, played with Satoru’s fingers under the table.

But at one point, Daichi asked, “Yui, did you tell them what club you’re thinking of joining?”

“Oh,” she said, straightening. “The art society.”

Kaito nodded. “That fits. You still sketching campus buildings and people and all that?”

Yui flushed a little. “Yeah. I just don’t know if I’m good enough to—”

“Don’t say that,” Satoru interrupted, casual but direct. “That drawing of the old gym? That was sick.”

You blinked.

She smiled. “You remembered that?”

You cut in before he could answer. “Satoru has the memory of a goldfish. Don’t give him that much credit.”

A few chuckles. But Yui looked down. Her smile faded just slightly.

Later, when the check came and everyone was getting up, Yui accidentally bumped into your shoulder while grabbing her coat.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

You turned slowly. “It’s fine.”

She hesitated. “I hope I’m not… making anything weird.”

You gave her a long look.

“No,” you said. “You’re not that important.”

Her face dropped. She didn’t reply.

When you and Satoru left, he was quiet. Too quiet.

“Something wrong?” you asked, half-daring him to say it.

He ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t have to say that to her.”

“Say what?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

You stopped walking. “Why are you defending her?”

He paused. “I’m not. I’m just saying… it wasn’t necessary.”

You smiled, cold. “Neither is her sitting with you every day.”

That silenced him.

Back in your dorm room, you took off your earrings with slow, careful movements.

Your phone buzzed. A text from Ren.

You good? Looked a little tense tonight.

You typed, deleted, then typed again.

Do I look crazy to you?

Three dots. Then:

No. Just different.

You stared at the screen until it dimmed.

Monday mornings had a rhythm.

You walked into the student lounge and the table by the windows was always yours. Satoru, Kaito, Ren, Daichi, and you. You brought coffee sometimes. Other days, snacks. You filled the silence, kept the conversation up when the boys were too tired from weekend games.

You were the glue. You always were.

But this Monday was off. You entered the lounge and saw them first. Kaito half-laughing. Satoru leaning back with his ankle crossed over his knee. And Yui — sitting in your chair, holding a takeout tray of coffee cups and paper bags.

“—I just figured everyone could use a pick-me-up,” she was saying, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “The bakery near the art building opens early.”

Daichi held up his croissant like a toast. “This slaps.”

You stopped. Your seat was taken. Not just physically — but replaced.

Satoru spotted you and smiled. “Hey, babe. She brought pastries.”

You forced a smile and sat next to Kaito instead. A space over.

He didn’t say anything, but when he slid you one of the coffees she brought, you noticed he’d passed over one that didn’t have lipstick on the lid.

Small mercy.

By Wednesday, people in your program were talking about Yui’s art.

There was a bulletin board near the design wing, and she’d put up a charcoal sketch of a girl sitting alone on the library steps. It was beautiful, you’d admit. It also looked eerily like you — same posture, same boots.

People stopped to compliment it. Someone even said, “You know, she’s so refreshing. Like… real. She’s not trying to impress anyone.”

As if that was something to praise. As if trying hard made you fake. As if you trying at all was the problem.

That afternoon, you sat on the bleachers watching basketball practice. You always did — the cheer squad usually finished an hour earlier, and you liked seeing Satoru move, command, lead.

You were halfway through tying your jacket around your waist when you spotted her.

Yui.

Sitting in the far corner of the bleachers. Alone. Sketchbook in her lap, legs tucked under her.

You didn’t walk over. But you kept glancing that way, waiting for her to leave.

She didn’t. She waited until he waved. At her.

You saw it clearly. The lift of his arm between drills. The way her posture straightened when she noticed.

Your stomach turned.

That night, you left the group chat. Quietly. No drama. No goodbye.

But they noticed. Daichi messaged you, then Ren. You ignored both. Only Kaito sent the right thing.

Wanna talk? No judgment.

You didn’t reply for hours.

But eventually, you did.

She’s replacing me.

His typing bubble appeared. Then paused. Then started again.

No. She’s just… being included.

You stared at that sentence.

Then:

But I see you. I haven’t forgotten.

You blinked at that.

It was nothing. And everything.

Thursday, Satoru walked with you to class. You held his hand loosely. You didn’t say much. He did.

“You’ve been off lately.”

“Have I?”

He exhaled. “Y/N…”

You looked up. “Do you like her?”

His brows pulled together. “What?”

“Yui. Do you like her?”

“No. She’s Daichi’s sister. She’s a kid.”

“She’s only two years younger than us.”

He looked frustrated now. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m observant.”

He pulled away just slightly. “Can’t you just let people in without turning it into a threat?”

You stopped walking.

“I used to be your person,” you said quietly. “Not a threat. Not a chore. Just… your person.”

He didn’t have an answer for that. And that hurt more than anything.

It started with a seat. Again.

Friday morning, your first free period, the guys had taken the usual corner table outside the cafeteria. It was barely 10 a.m., and already warm. You were running late — hair still damp from your shower, your slides too loud on the concrete path.

You rounded the corner, expecting the usual: the boys eating loud and fast, Satoru teasing Daichi about his midterms, Kaito flipping through his notes, and an empty spot beside your boyfriend.

But the seat wasn’t empty. Yui was already there. Right next to Satoru.

They weren’t doing anything, not exactly. But her elbow was close enough to his that your heart clenched. He leaned toward her mid-sentence, laughing softly at something she said. She wasn’t flustered this time — her voice was calm, steady.

She wasn’t trying anymore. She had already arrived. You walked slower.

When you reached the table, Kaito was the only one who stood slightly, sliding a chair toward you. You caught his eyes. He didn’t smile, but he gave you that quiet look — the one that said, Yeah. I saw it too.

You sat across from Satoru. He greeted you with a casual, “Hey, babe,” like nothing had changed. But everything had.

Later, while walking to class, Kaito caught up with you.

“She’s louder now,” he said casually.

You looked at him sideways. “What?”

“Yui. Used to whisper everything. Now she interrupts Daichi when he talks.”

You raised a brow. “Why are you telling me that?”

Kaito shrugged. “Just proving I’m paying attention.”

You didn’t say thank you. But you didn’t look away either.

That afternoon, you found out they had planned a night out — ramen and karaoke. A group thing.

You found out by accident.

Daichi had posted a dumb video on his story: Ren badly lip-syncing to some anime opening while the camera panned across the private karaoke room. There was Satoru. There was Daichi. Kaito. Ren.

And Yui. Laughing on the couch, your drink in her hand. The one you always ordered.

No one had texted you.

You were alone in your dorm, eating crackers with peanut butter, phone glowing in the dark.

You didn’t cry. You called Kaito. He picked up on the second ring.

“You saw?”

“Yes.”

He exhaled. “I wasn’t in the mood to go either. But I had to show up.”

“Why?”

“Because someone has to keep her from turning into you.”

The silence was loud.

You didn’t speak for a few seconds. Then quietly:
“What’s wrong with being me?”

“Nothing,” he said. “But they forget what it took for you to get here. She just walked in.”

The next day, Yui approached you.

You were at the vending machine near the back stairwell, alone between classes. She came around the corner with her sketchpad pressed to her chest.

She didn’t look nervous. She looked… ready.

“Hey,” she said.

You turned, slow. “Hi.”

She didn’t fidget. “I just wanted to clear the air. I know it’s weird that I’m around your friends all the time now.”

You smiled. Not kindly. “Oh, now you notice?”

Yui looked away for a second, then met your gaze again. “I didn’t mean to step on anything.”

“But you didn’t stop either.”

Her throat moved in a swallow. “I didn’t think I had to. I thought… maybe there was enough room for more than one girl at the table.”

You tilted your head. “That’s cute. But it’s not about room. It’s about roles. I had mine.”

“And now I’m threatening it?”

“You’re not threatening it,” you said, voice sharp. “You’ve already replaced it.”

For a moment, you thought she’d say sorry. But she didn’t.

Instead, she said, “Maybe you just stopped wanting it.”

That stopped you cold. She walked off without another word.

Satoru wasn’t oblivious. He just didn’t want to admit how bad it had gotten.

It was easier to think you were just being dramatic. That your tension with Yui would settle. That things would click back into place if he just gave it time.

But he wasn’t stupid.

He saw the way you started dressing up more for morning classes again — lashes perfect, lip gloss slick, hair curled even when it rained.

He noticed how you kept your phone face-down around him, and how Kaito always seemed to look at him like he knew something he didn’t.

The final nudge came on a Thursday.

Yui had been tagging along to lunch with the group. Again. She wasn’t even trying to be subtle anymore — cracking jokes with Daichi, handing Ren her apple juice like they’d grown up together.

Satoru was halfway through his rice bowl when you walked up to the table, dropped your bag beside him, and smiled — big, bright, the kind of smile you used when cameras were around or when you were pissed.

“Hey, baby,” you said sweetly, sliding into his lap like it was nothing.

Everyone froze. Even Yui.

He blinked. “Hey.”

You wrapped your arm around his neck and leaned in like you’d missed him all morning. You hadn’t. You’d ignored three of his texts.

Yui looked down at her tray.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said, brushing your fingers through Satoru’s hair like it was routine. “Cheer practice ran over. You didn’t wait for me?”

He hesitated. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

You smiled with your teeth. “I’m always coming.”

After lunch, Satoru caught up with Kaito on the walk to class.

“She’s starting to play games,” he muttered.

Kaito gave him a dry look. “You mean she’s acting like your girlfriend again?”

Satoru frowned. “It’s not about that.”

“It is to her.”

He didn’t respond.

At practice that evening, Yui showed up again.

She claimed she was waiting for Daichi — said she just wanted to sketch from the sidelines until his shift ended.

Satoru didn’t believe her.

She sat quietly, legs crossed on the bleachers, sketchpad on her knees. The first ten minutes, she didn’t look at him at all.

The next ten, she did. And the next.

He wasn’t sure when it started, but he found himself thinking about it even when he was running drills.

Not her, exactly. But the way you’d looked at her during lunch. Like a challenge. Like you were done playing nice.

And for the first time in weeks, that version of you — sharp, high-maintenance, territorial — made him feel something warm under his skin.

It reminded him why he’d fallen for you in the first place.

You didn’t go quiet. You never faded out.
You fought for what was yours.

Later that night, he showed up at your dorm without warning.

You opened the door in a robe, eye masks under your eyes, music playing low behind you.

“Do you want something?” you asked, not stepping aside.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I just— We haven’t talked.”

“That’s new.”

He gave you a look. “You’ve been acting like I’m the enemy.”

“Because you’re not on my side.”

A beat of silence.

Then, softer: “I’m just stuck in the middle.”

“Then move.”

You crossed your arms. He looked at you — really looked. Messy bun. No makeup. Annoyed as hell.

Beautiful anyway.

“Don’t make this a war,” he said.

You tilted your head. “Then stop handing her ammo.”

The silence between you stretched. Not hostile — worse. Tense in a way only people who used to love each other could feel.

When you finally turned to look at him, he looked tired. No teasing smile. No cocky charm. Just Satoru. Raw, undecided.

“You don’t see what it’s like,” you said, voice lower now. “Sitting there every day like I’m some relic while she slides into my spot.”

He frowned. “You think that’s what’s happening?”

“No, Satoru. I know that’s what’s happening.”

“She’s not—”

“Don’t finish that sentence unless you want me to laugh in your face.”

His jaw clenched.

You leaned back in your chair, legs crossed under your robe. “She’s sweet. Quiet. Harmless, right? I know the game. I used to play it.”

“She’s not playing a game.”

“Then why does it feel like I’m losing?”

That silenced him. You watched him, eyes softening just enough to let the truth peek out.

“You don’t look at me the same anymore.”

He didn’t answer. And that was the answer.

You stood up slowly, walking to the mini fridge to grab a bottle of water. Twisting the cap off, you kept your back to him.

“I used to be the only girl you’d skip class for. Remember that? We’d lie in bed all morning, then I’d wear your sweatshirt to practice just to make it obvious.”

“I remember,” he said quietly.

You turned back around, arms folded loosely around your waist. “Now I feel like I’m fighting a war no one told me we were in.”

Satoru finally stepped forward, voice lower. “You think I don’t care about you anymore?”

“I think you’re tired of me. And you’re too cowardly to admit it.”

He flinched at that — not dramatically, but you saw the way his throat tensed.

Then, softly: “You’re wrong.”

“Prove it.”

That hung there, heavy and cold.

He looked at you — really looked. Wet lashes. Bare skin. Red mouth. Sad eyes that still somehow sparkled when they stared him down.

“I miss us,” he said.

You blinked.

He stepped closer, hesitantly brushing your wrist with his fingers. “But you’ve got this armor on now. Like I’m the enemy.”

“You started this war,” you whispered.

“I didn’t think I’d have to choose.”

You swallowed. “But you do.”

He nodded once. You held his gaze a second longer, then turned back to your bed and sat down, curling your knees up beneath you.

Satoru hesitated.

Then slowly, quietly, he joined you — sitting on the floor in front of your bed, leaning back against the frame.

No one spoke. The music still played quietly from your phone speaker, some old Japanese R&B playlist looping in the background.

You reached down, your fingers brushing his shoulder.

Then, slowly — impossibly soft — he leaned in and kissed you.

It was barely even a kiss at first. Just his lips brushing yours, a question wrapped in hesitation. And then your hand slid into his hair, and that was it.

He kissed you again — slower this time, deeper. His hand moved to your cheek, his thumb sweeping just beneath your eye. His lips pressed to yours again, and again, with a hunger that surprised even him — not desperate, but familiar. Like he knew you. Like he had always known this mouth, this rhythm, this exact taste.

You made a soft sound against him, and he moved closer.

Your legs tangled beneath the covers. Your robe loosened slightly at the shoulder, and his hand slid along your waist, warm and steady, not rushing. His fingers gripped the fabric, grounding himself there.

When he pulled back, just a breath away, he kept his forehead resting against yours. His voice was low and hoarse.

“I hate fighting with you.”

You swallowed. “Then stop giving me reasons to.”

“I didn’t know how to handle it,” he admitted. “Everything just got… loud. And she was easy.”

You blinked. “You mean quiet.”

He nodded.

You traced the curve of his ear with your fingertip. “I’m not easy, Satoru.”

“I know,” he whispered. “But I never wanted easy.”

He kissed you again — this time slower, like he had all night. You let yourself melt into it, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his body pressed you gently into the mattress.

It was messy. A little angry. A little sad. But it felt real again. And in that moment — it was enough to stay.

It started with the hallway.

Friday morning. Eighth period break. You were always a little late walking to the cafeteria — part intentional, part habit. You liked people watching you enter.

But today, there was no act. You were calm.

You wore your school sweatshirt slouched off one shoulder and a miniskirt paired with knee-high socks. Hair half-up, gloss shining but simple. Not trying too hard. But you didn’t have to.

You knew he was waiting at the table. Satoru. And this time, he wasn’t looking at the entrance for someone else.

Ren was mid-story when you walked in. Kaito and Jin were arguing about fantasy league stats. Daichi had his head down texting.

Satoru was staring at his drink — until the second you stepped in.

His head lifted instinctively. His eyes followed you, slow, steady, like they didn’t want to blink and miss the moment. And you?

You walked right over to the table, slid into the seat next to him, and draped your arm along the back of his chair like it belonged there.

“Missed me?” you said casually.

He looked at you, smiled. A real one. “Always.”

Across the table, Yui watched quietly. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

Her lunch tray was still untouched. Her water bottle had a tight grip around it. Her drawing pad sat unopened in her lap. She kept glancing from you to Satoru like trying to make sense of the math.

But the numbers weren’t adding up. You were back in your seat. And Satoru didn’t even hesitate.

He nudged your leg under the table. You looked over, caught him staring — warm and distracted. You rolled your eyes but didn’t move your leg.

You laughed at one of Ren’s jokes. You stole a fry from Daichi’s plate. You whispered something in Satoru’s ear and made him chuckle mid-sip.

And all the while, Yui sat three spots down, pretending not to notice. But she noticed. Everyone did.

Especially when, just before the bell rang, Satoru reached over and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear like it was nothing.

In the hallway after, you could feel her catching up. The rubber soles of her sneakers too soft to be loud — but you were trained to feel eyes.

“Y/N?”

You stopped, turned.

Yui stood there with her sketchpad hugged tight to her chest.

Her voice was calm. Careful. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

You didn’t answer right away. Just crossed your arms, tilted your head.

Satoru glanced back from where he stood ahead — waiting, watching — but you waved him off.

He nodded slowly and kept walking.

When it was just the two of you, you finally spoke.

“What’s up?”

Yui hesitated, her grip tightening around her notebook.

“I didn’t mean to make things weird.”

You smiled. “But you did.”

“I was just trying to make friends.”

“And you picked my boyfriend?”

Her expression shifted slightly — not angry, not even defensive. Just… confused. Hurt, maybe.

“I didn’t think it would matter. You barely looked at him lately.”

That landed sharper than she probably meant.

But you didn’t flinch. You stepped forward, slow, deliberate — just enough to have to look down into her eyes.

“Here’s the thing,” you said softly. “You don’t have to understand what we are. You just have to remember that we are.”

And with that, you turned and walked away.

Leaving her in the hall with her sketchbook and a stomach full of silence.

The sun was setting behind the gym building, casting long golden shadows across the basketball courts. Practice had ended late. Satoru was walking toward the locker rooms, gym bag slung over one shoulder, hair messy, shirt slightly damp with sweat. His jersey clung to his back, and his steps were slow — tired but calm.

Until he heard her voice.

“Satoru!”

He turned.

Yui stood a few feet away, hands nervously gripping the strap of her messenger bag. Her cheeks were flushed — whether from walking fast or nerves, he wasn’t sure.

“Hey,” he said, adjusting his bag. “Everything okay?”

She hesitated, then stepped closer. “Can we talk?”

He didn’t answer right away. The way she was looking at him made his stomach tighten — it was too open, too expectant.

“Just a minute?”

“…Yeah.”

They walked toward the side of the gym where it was quieter, near the old vending machines. It smelled faintly of rubber mats and Gatorade. A few straggling players shouted from inside, but out here, it was still.

Yui finally turned to him.

“I don’t want to make this harder than it needs to be,” she began, voice low. “But I think I deserve to know what’s going on.”

Satoru blinked. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Her voice faltered. “You and Y/N. Yesterday. Today. Everything’s changed.”

He shifted uncomfortably, eyes flicking down to the cracked pavement. “Yeah. We’re figuring things out.”

Yui’s brows pulled together. “But I thought—”

She stopped herself. Satoru looked up at her.

“You thought what?”

“I thought you liked me,” she said softly. “Or at least… I thought there was something.”

He stared at her a moment — not cruelly, not even cold. Just... quiet. Honest.

“Yui,” he said carefully. “I like you. You're sweet. You're easy to talk to.”

Her face lit up with hope.

“But,” he continued, “I was never not with Y/N.”

Yui’s expression froze.

“I thought maybe... we were over,” he admitted. “Things got distant. Complicated. But it wasn’t your job to fill that space.”

“You said you wanted me around,” she whispered.

“I did,” he nodded. “And I meant it. But not like that.”

Silence. A bird chirped somewhere nearby. A basketball thudded in the distance.

“You were just being nice,” she finally said, her voice cracking just a little.

He nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry if I led you on.”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed.

“I wasn’t trying to steal you,” she said suddenly. “I just… felt safe with you.”

He gave her a sad smile.

“That’s the thing, Yui. I’ve never been safe. Not with her. Not with anyone.”

She looked away quickly, trying to blink back the sting in her eyes.

Satoru adjusted his bag, standing taller now.

“You deserve someone who doesn’t hesitate,” he said gently. “Someone who chooses you all the way.”

And then — he turned, walking off toward the locker rooms, leaving her alone in the golden light.

The evening air was cool and soft, wrapping around you like a quiet promise.

You found Satoru sitting on the low stone wall outside the school gym, alone except for the fading light and the distant hum of the city.

Without thinking, you slipped beside him, your shoulder brushing his.

He glanced at you, eyes catching the last warmth of the sunset.

For a moment, words failed you both.

Then, slowly, Satoru reached out, his hand warm as it slid to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

Your breath hitched.

He looked down at your lips, then back to your eyes — searching. You swallowed.

“Can I?”

His nod was the softest thing. Leaning in, your lips met his.

The kiss was gentle at first, a quiet question hanging between you.

Then it deepened — slow and steady, like two halves finally coming together after too much space.

Your hands found his wrists, fingers curling lightly.

He pulled you a little closer, careful, like you might disappear if he wasn’t.

When you finally parted, your foreheads rested against each other, breaths mingling.

“I missed this,” he whispered.

“Me too,” you said, voice just as soft.

You stayed like that a moment longer — two people tangled in something honest and new and old all at once. And for the first time in days, the noise around you faded completely.

[sunshinesfreckless]

Technical Difficulties

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Summary: Breaking your laptop is annoying enough—but it gets a little more fun when the guy fixing it for free turns out to be ridiculously hot.

Warnings: Backshots by Felix, No panties for Felix, Orgasm with Felix

Pairing: NonIdol!Felix x Fem!Reader

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

“FUCK.” Y/N smacked the back of her laptop, her frustration echoing through the lecture hall. Every head in the room turned toward her. She shrank under the weight of their stares. “Sorry.”

Seungmin, her best friend since forever, sighed beside her. “Y/N, you need to get that thing fixed. Duct-taping your battery isn’t a long-term solution.”

She groaned, slumping against the desk. “Yeah? Well, I don’t exactly have the money to fix it.”

Seungmin rubbed his temples like he was debating whether to strangle her or help. “Okay, listen. I have a friend—same campus, studies choreography. He fixes laptops in his free time.”

Y/N perked up. “How much?”

“For me? Nothing. So if I go with you, he might make an exception.”

She exhaled in relief. “Seungmin, I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before that thing explodes in your hands.”

────୨ৎ────

With her tote bag slung over her shoulder, Y/N walked beside Seungmin across campus. The Australian sun was merciless today, heat clinging to her skin even though she was wearing a light summer dress. She could already feel sweat forming at the nape of her neck.

Seungmin cut through the park, heading straight for the big tree where a group of guys usually gathered. Y/N never paid them much attention—she didn’t care for most people on campus.

But then he spoke.

“Hey, guys.”

Y/N barely registered the greeting because—holy shit—she knew him. Well, not personally. But Hyunjin was practically a campus legend. Every girl she met wouldn’t shut up about him. So beautiful. So romantic. So sweet. So dreamy. She had rolled her eyes at it a million times.

And there he was, lowering his sketchbook, black curtain bangs shielding his eyes from the sun like he was straight out of a damn movie.

But next to him?

Yeah. That’s where things got interesting.

Y/N suddenly cared a whole lot more about Seungmin’s friends.

She had heard Felix’s name before, but good God, she had not been prepared for this. His blonde hair was tied back, a few strands falling artfully into his absurdly beautiful sculpted face. She could see the outline of his toned arms beneath his white tank top, the sun casting a golden glow on his tan skin.

He glanced up at Seungmin with a lazy smile.

“Seungmin, hey.”

And just like that, Y/N’s laptop was no longer her biggest problem.

Felix’ eyes landed on her. „And hey, you.“

Y/N felt heat rush to her face. “Hi.”

Felix’s smile widened instantly.

Seungmin got straight to the point. „She’s got a broken laptop for you to fix. Think you can do it?“

„Sure.“ Felix shot Y/N another reassuring smile. „What’s the problem?“

She hesitated, glancing at Seungmin, who gave her a look—a silent just answer him already. Scrambling, she reached into her tote bag and pulled out the laptop.

Hyunjin, who had been watching silently, blinked. „Jeez, just put it to rest, girl.“

Felix chuckled as he took the laptop from her hands. „Why did you duct tape the battery?“

Y/N shifted awkwardly. „No money for repairs,“ she mumbled, suddenly embarrassed.

Felix hummed, examining the damage. „Yeah… I get that. I’ll fix it this week. You can pick it up on Saturday from my place.“ He glanced up at her. „Not really a fan of making ladies come to me by themselves, but my schedule is packed this weekend.“

„Oh, no! Don’t worry, it’s totally fine! I’ll pick it up!“ she blurted out quickly.

Felix turned to Seungmin with an amused smirk. „Your girlfriend?“

Seungmin made a face. „Thank god, no. We just grew up together.“

Felix nodded, then looked at Y/N again, his voice softer this time. „Don’t worry about the money. I’ll do it for free.“

────୨ৎ────

Y/N took a deep breath as she stood in front of his House door, adjusting the strap of her tote bag. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous. It was just Felix. Just the hot guy she barely knew who had offered to fix her laptop for free. No big deal.

She knocked twice.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing Felix in nothing but sweatpants, his toned upper body on full display. His damp blonde hair suggested he had just showered, and Y/N had to make a conscious effort to keep her eyes on his face.

“Hey,” he greeted with a lazy grin, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” she replied, clearing her throat. “I, uh… came to get my laptop.”

Felix smirked, tilting his head. “Yeah, I figured. Come in.”

She stepped inside, the scent of his cologne mixed with something warm and sweet—vanilla? Cookies? Her stomach growled in betrayal, and Felix chuckled.

“Did you eat today?”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, watching as he walked over to his desk. Her eyes involuntarily traced the muscles in his back before she forced herself to look away.

Felix picked up her laptop, holding it out to her. “All fixed. Should last you a while now.”

She reached for it, but he didn’t let go immediately. Their fingers brushed, and Y/N felt a jolt of something—anticipation?

“Careful with it this time,” Felix murmured, his voice lower than before.

Y/N swallowed. “Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

────୨ৎ────

“YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BREAK IT AGAIN!” Seungmin practically shouted, his voice echoing through the hallway.

Y/N clutched her laptop to her chest, guilt flashing across her face for a split second before she stubbornly lifted her chin. “HOW ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO TALK TO HIM AGAIN?!”

Seungmin stared at her like she had just confessed to arson. “Are you serious? You’re seriously considering destroying your laptop just so you have an excuse to see Felix again?”

“Apparently!”

Seungmin dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “Y/N, I beg you—just go up to him. He’s literally the nicest guy on this entire campus.”

Y/N groaned dramatically, leaning against the wall like the weight of her feelings was physically crushing her. “Seungmin, I love you, but no. He might be nice and very kind and very friendly—”

“Yeah, it’s Sunshine Felix we’re talking about,” Seungmin deadpanned, folding his arms.

“BUT I CAN’T JUST DO THAT!” Y/N wailed. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know you did me a huge favor for free, but I think I left my dignity at your house and was hoping I could come pick it up?’”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “I dunno, maybe something normal like ‘Hey, Felix, how’s it going?’”

Y/N looked at him, completely unimpressed.

“You clearly don’t understand how unhinged my feelings are right now,” she said, voice completely serious. “I am literally one intrusive thought away from throwing my laptop off the balcony just to recreate our meet-cute.”

Seungmin groaned. “I hate you.”

“And yet,” Y/N smirked, “you’re still gonna help me.”

────୨ৎ────

The next day, Y/N found herself once again marching across campus with Seungmin, her laptop clutched in her arms like a newborn.

“You cannot be serious,” Seungmin muttered beside her.

Y/N lifted her chin. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You do know what I mean.” He gestured at the laptop. “You just got that thing back. Yesterday. And now, what? It magically broke again?”

Y/N cleared her throat. “Technology is fragile.”

Seungmin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Y/N, I swear to God—”

Before he could finish, they arrived at the big tree where Hyunjin and Felix were lounging as usual. Hyunjin had his sketchbook open, absentmindedly twirling a pencil, while Felix leaned back against the trunk, scrolling on his phone.

Seungmin sighed like he was about to walk her down the aisle. “Here we go again.”

“Hey, guys,” he called.

Felix looked up, and the second his gaze landed on Y/N, his lips curled into an amused smile.

“No way,” he said, sitting up straighter. His eyes flickered to the laptop in her arms. “Already?”

Y/N’s breath hitched. Oh god, he was so hot. And now he was laughing at her.

She forced herself to act normal. “I—um—it’s not what it looks like.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “It looks like you broke it again.”

Y/N huffed. “Well, I didn’t—it just… stopped working.”

Felix leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Mhm. And how exactly did it ‘just stop working’?”

Y/N avoided his eyes. “It just happened.”

Felix chuckled, clearly entertained. “Alright, let’s see it.”

She handed it over, and their fingers just barely brushed. Y/N tried not to react, but her entire body was hyper-aware of the fleeting touch. Felix smirked like he knew.

He turned the laptop over, inspecting it. “You sure you’re not doing this on purpose?”

“What?!” Y/N squeaked. “Of course not! That would be insane!”

Felix grinned. “Mhm. If you say so.”

Y/N felt like she was about to explode on the spot. Meanwhile, Seungmin looked like he wanted to fling himself into the nearest bush.

“Just tell me when it’s fixed,” she mumbled.

Felix tapped his fingers against the laptop. “Thursday?”

Y/N nodded quickly. “Thursday.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked off, dragging Seungmin with her before she could embarrass herself any further.

Once they were out of earshot, she exhaled sharply. Then, with complete determination, she said, “I’m picking it up without underwear.”

Seungmin choked on his own breath, nearly tripping over his own feet. “WHAT?!”

Y/N didn’t waver. “You heard me.”

He stared at her, absolutely horrified. “You’re beyond saving.”

She just smiled.

────୨ৎ────

Y/N thought she had the guts. She really did.

But now, standing in front of Felix’s family home again—this expensive, ridiculously pretty house that somehow made her feel even smaller—she chickened out. Underwear very much on.

Felix leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking just as unfairly attractive as always. His eyes flickered down to the laptop in her hands before meeting hers again, amusement dancing in them.

“So,” he said, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips, “you planning on actually keeping it alive this time?”

Y/N felt her face heat up. “I—it wasn’t my fault.”

Felix chuckled. “Mhm. Sure.”

Y/N turned around and almost sprinted back home.

────୨ৎ────

Well… she couldn’t break it again, right? But she could pretend to struggle with a software issue… yes… that was perfect.

The next day, when she asked Seungmin to go with her to Felix again, he looked like he was about to commit a crime.

“Y/N,” he deadpanned. “I swear to God—”

“Please, Seungmin. Just one more time.”

“One more time? That’s what you said the two times before!”

But despite all his complaints, he still found himself walking the same damn path across campus for the third time. When they reached Felix and Hyunjin again, Seungmin muttered, “I can’t believe this.”

Felix looked up from his own laptop, instantly breaking into a smile. “Don’t tell me you broke it again.”

Y/N shook her head way too fast. “No! No, I just— I need your help with a program. I can’t figure it out, and since you’re good with tech—”

“Sure, pretty,” Felix interrupted smoothly.

Y/N went completely still. Her brain short-circuited. Did she hear that right? Pretty?

Hyunjin was already grinning like an idiot, exchanging a glance with Seungmin, who just rolled his eyes. “Oh, this is so painful to watch,” Hyunjin muttered under his breath.

Felix, completely oblivious to the way Y/N was struggling to breathe, checked the time on his phone. “I’m kinda busy today, but come over Friday evening. My family’s out, so it’ll be quieter.”

Y/N blinked at him. His house. Friday. Alone.

“Okay,” she breathed out before she could even think.

Felix grinned and handed her laptop back. “See you then, troublemaker.”

────୨ৎ────

She did it. She actually did it.

No panties.

Y/N took a slow breath as she stood in front of his house, smoothing down the ruffles of her white summer dress. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and the heat pooling in her stomach made it impossible to think straight.

The door swung open, and there he was.

Felix. His blonde hair slightly messy like he’d just run his hands through it. He wore a white tank top and denim jeans—dangerous on him. His toned arms were on full display, and the way the fabric clung to his torso had her pressing her thighs together instinctively.

She was so fucked.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and effortless, like he hadn’t just sent her body into overdrive.

“Hi,” she answered, hoping he didn’t notice the slight shake in her voice.

“Come in.”

She stepped inside, and he closed the door behind her. His eyes flickered over her dress—the soft fabric, the delicate ruffles—before pointing toward his room.

“You know the way.”

She let out a nervous laugh and walked ahead, unaware of the way his eyes followed her every step.

Felix exhaled slowly, subtly adjusting the condom in his pocket so she wouldn’t see the outline through his jeans. Just in case. He had no idea if things would go that way tonight, but if she had any clue what she was doing to him right now…

He swallowed hard and followed her in.

She sat down in the chair he had placed next to his gaming setup, crossing her legs delicately. The movement made her dress shift slightly, revealing just a hint more of her thigh.

“You hungry? Want something to drink?” he asked, leaning against the desk.

“No, thank you,” she replied with a small smile.

He smiled back—slow, easy. And then he settled into his chair, pushing his setup aside to make space for her laptop.

“So,” he said, cracking his knuckles, “what’s the problem?”

“Well…” She leaned forward, typing in her password. “First, I don’t really understand how this software works…”

Felix nodded, but he wasn’t looking at the screen. His focus had caught on something else entirely—the soft swell of her cleavage as she leaned in. The absence of bra straps.

Fuck.

His jaw tightened slightly as he bit the inside of his cheek, dragging his gaze away before she could catch him staring. But his hands clenched over his thighs, the heat behind his navel spreading fast.

She knows exactly what she’s doing.

He really tried—tried to focus, tried to explain. But her perfume was clouding his head, and the fact that she was so close wasn’t helping.

And then, just like that, he shut the laptop.

Y/N blinked at him. “Uh…?”

Felix exhaled through his nose, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the desk. His eyes dragged over her, slow, appreciative.

“You really think I can focus on explaining when all I can think about is what’s under that pretty dress?” His voice was low—dangerous. Her breath hitched, heat shooting straight between her legs.

“Excuse me?” she managed, her face burning.

But she knew what he said. And worse? He was right. The trap had worked.

Felix tilted his head slightly, running his tongue over his lower lip. “You heard me.”

She sat back in the chair, suddenly feeling much smaller under his gaze.

He turned his chair to face her fully, his legs spreading just enough to make her pulse race. His hands rested lazily on the armrests, but there was nothing casual about the way he was looking at her now.

“C’mere, gorgeous,” he murmured.

Her breath came short.

She hesitated—only for a second—before slowly lifting one leg over his, then the other. She settled into his lap, straddling him. And that’s when Felix knew.

Knew she wasn’t playing around. Knew she meant to do this.

Because the moment she settled onto him, he could feel everything.

No barriers. No fabric. Just the scorching heat of her dripping core pressing against the rough denim of his jeans.

His grip tightened instinctively on her hips. A slow smirk spread across his lips as he dragged his hands up her back, pulling her in closer.

“You little vixen,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement.

Y/N swallowed hard, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“Are you telling me you really needed help with that software,” he teased, voice dropping an octave, “when you showed up here without any underwear?”

She had to giggle.

Felix grinned at her, shaking his head, amused and wrecked by her at the same time. But then—before she could overthink, before the teasing could stretch any longer—he pulled her closer, his hands gripping her waist with purpose, and crushed his lips against hers.

It was deep. Intense. The kind of kiss that sent her mind spiraling and left her breathless within seconds.

Y/N melted into him, her fingers curling around the fabric of his tank top. He was solid under her hands, all heat and strength, his chest rising and falling against hers as their lips moved together, messy and desperate.

She could feel his heartbeat thundering through him, or maybe it was hers. It didn’t matter.

His hands tightened at her waist, fingers pressing into the soft fabric of her dress like he was trying to memorize the feel of her. And then—fuck it—she went all in.

Her tongue met his, hot and hungry, sliding against his in a way that had him groaning low in his throat.

That sound. That deep, rumbling noise had something dark and needy twisting inside her.

Felix’s hands roamed up her back, his fingers running along the curve of her spine, then sliding down to cup her hips. He pulled her tighter against him, their bodies flush now, no space left between them.

His mouth moved against hers, lips parting, tongues meeting again, and it was sloppy—wet, reckless, desperate. She didn’t care. Neither did he.

His hands traced the hem of her dress, skimming along the bare skin of her thighs. She shivered, her body arching into him instinctively.

Y/N’s fingers threaded into his hair, tugging lightly, and Felix let out a sharp breath against her lips before tilting his head and deepening the kiss even further.

God, he tasted good. Like mint and something sweet, something entirely him. She was getting drunk on it, on him.

Felix pulled away for just a second—just long enough to catch his breath—and looked at her.

Her lips were swollen, slightly parted. Her chest rising and falling quickly. And her eyes—fuck, her eyes were hazy, full of something dark and wanting.

His hand came up, thumb running along her lower lip, smudging the wetness there.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured, voice rough.

Y/N smiled, her breath still shaky. “You like trouble.”

Felix huffed a laugh, then tilted her chin up, his mouth capturing hers again, hungrier this time.

She could feel how much he wanted her. The way his fingers dug into her hips, the way his chest pressed against hers like he wanted to be impossibly closer.

She moved against him, just slightly, and that was it. That was all it took for him to snap.

Felix groaned against her lips and stood up with her in his arms, gripping her thighs as he lifted her effortlessly.

Y/N gasped, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist.

His mouth found her neck, hot and open-mouthed, sucking lightly as he carried her across the room.

Then he sat down on the edge of his bed with her still in his lap, their bodies tangled together, their kisses turning even more feverish.

Y/N felt her head spin, her entire body buzzing. The heat, the tension—it was overwhelming, consuming, everything.

And as Felix’s hands started to roam again, his lips trailing down her jaw, she knew she was completely, utterly gone.

She looked out of his window, her breath still uneven. The view was breathtaking—golden sand stretching along the australian coast, the waves rolling gently under the soft evening light. The ocean breeze might have cooled her flushed skin if not for the real reason her body was burning.

Felix.

The boy with sun-kissed skin and a wicked smile, trailing kisses along her neck, hands gripping her waist like he never wanted to let go.

Life could be so unfairly beautiful.

She glanced down at him, and when he looked up at her, their eyes locked—electricity humming between them, He kissed her again, this time guiding her hips against him, making sure she felt everything.

A soft moan slipped past her lips.

The friction—the rough denim pressing right where she needed it—was almost too much. And him—hard and heavy against her—there was no mistaking how much he wanted this too.

Felix pulled back just enough to cup her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at him. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, his voice rough and unwavering.

“Take my jeans off,” he murmured. “They’re ruined anyway.”

She nodded, slipping off his lap, her fingers trembling as she worked open his belt.

“Good girl.”

Heat rushed to her face. If she wasn’t already DRENCHED with need, she definitely was now.

He lifted his hips to help her slide his jeans down, kicking them aside. And then—God. Even through his boxers, she could see everything.

Y/N swallowed, her breath hitching as she pressed a kiss to the sharp cut of his hip. Then another, lower this time.

Felix’s jaw clenched.

She bit down on the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down with just her teeth before helping with her hands.

His breath caught.

Her eyes widened.

Fuck.

Every thought in her head evaporated. How was he so perfect? She felt lightheaded, her body thrumming with an almost painful desperation. She wanted to taste him, wanted to feel every inch of him against her tongue, wanted to—

Before she could act on it, Felix caught her chin again, forcing her gaze back to him. His thumb brushed her lips, a smirk playing at his own.

“As much as I’d love to watch you do that,” he murmured, voice dripping with something dark and wrecked, “I need to be inside you more.”

Oh.

She didn’t need to be told twice.

She climbed back onto his lap in an instant, and Felix wasted no time, pulling her into a kiss so deep it stole whatever air she had left.

Then he lifted her, turning, laying her down on the bed with an effortless strength that made her shiver.

Her dress was the next thing to go—torn from her body in one swift motion, tossed somewhere behind him. It landed over his gaming setup, covering his screen completely, but neither of them cared.

Not when he was looking at her like that.

She tugged at his tank top, eager to feel more of him. Felix pulled it over his head and tossed it aside, baring golden skin, freckles and sculpted muscles that tensed under her touch.

God. He really was unreal.

She pressed her lips to his again, a slow, deep kiss that sent heat rolling through her body. His hands slid down her waist, over her hips, before gripping her thighs, massaging the soft flesh as he spread them wider.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he murmured against her lips.

She let out a breathy chuckle. “Says you, you literal greek god.” no way she just said that out loud.

Felix laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “What??”

“Nothing—just—” She bit her lip. “Kiss me again, please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Their lips met again, hungrier this time, heat pressing in on all sides. But just as Felix deepened the kiss, she pulled back slightly, breathless. “Condom.”

Felix exhaled sharply, then pushed himself up. Y/N sat up on her elbows, watching as he reached for his jeans.

Her gaze flicked down, and then—

“Oh, you can’t be serious,” she teased, eyes narrowing playfully. “And I’M the vixen? You literally had the condom prepared!”

Felix pulled it from his back pocket with an unapologetic smirk. “Yeah…?”

Her breath caught as she looked at him in the dim moonlight filtering through his window. The soft glow traced over every inch of his body—his toned chest, his small waist, the sharp lines of his hips. He looked like something carved out of marble, like a god out of an ancient myth, too perfect to be real.

And then her gaze dropped lower.

Oh.

Heat pooled between her thighs at the sight of him—thick, hard, so perfectly proportioned that her legs instinctively pressed together.

Felix climbed back onto the bed, settling between her thighs, the condom placed beside her as he ran his fingers up her inner thigh, teasingly close to where she needed him most. His lips found hers again, slower this time, more teasing than urgent. His fingers barely brushed over her clit, and she gasped against his mouth.

“You’re not a virgin, right?” he murmured, his voice low.

She shook her head slightly, heart hammering in her chest. No, she wasn’t. But her first time had been forgettable at best, disappointing at worst. She had never even come with that guy.

Felix’s fingers pressed more firmly now, circling her clit with slow, deliberate strokes. A soft whimper escaped her lips as her hips instinctively tilted up, chasing his touch.

“God, you’re so wet already,” he murmured, dragging his lips down to her jaw. “Can’t wait to fuck you.”

A sharp inhale hitched in her throat as he slipped two fingers inside her, the stretch making her walls flutter. His pace was perfect—just slow enough to tease, just deep enough to make her legs tremble.

She moaned against his lips, gripping the back of his neck and pulling him into another desperate kiss.

Felix groaned into her mouth, fingers curling just right, sending a shiver through her whole body. And then—he pulled them out.

A needy sound of protest left her, but before she could complain, he brought his fingers to his lips and licked them clean, eyes locked on hers the entire time.

Y/N’s breath stuttered.

Holy. Fuck.

Felix smirked at her expression, reaching for the condom with one hand while the other wrapped around himself, stroking slowly. He ripped the wrapper open with his teeth, sliding the condom over his length with practiced ease.

She swallowed hard, pulse racing as she let her legs fall open for him.

Felix leaned down again, one hand bracing beside her head, the other sliding up her thigh.

“You ready, gorgeous?”

“I guess I’ll have to keep breaking laptops in the future,” she whispered, voice breathless.

Felix let out a low chuckle, but it was cut short as he lined himself up and pushed in.

Y/N’s breath hitched—her fingers clutching at the sheets, her head falling back against his pillows as the stretch sent a shiver up her spine.

“Fuck,” she whimpered.

Felix groaned at the feeling of her around him, tight and warm, squeezing him just right. He leaned over her, his hand wrapping loosely around her throat, his thumb pressing just enough to make her focus on him.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice deep and commanding.

She blinked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted in a moan.

“There you are,” he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before pulling out just enough—then thrusting back in, slow and deep.

Y/N let out a sharp gasp, her nails digging into his back.

Felix picked up his pace, each thrust hitting deep, his name spilling from her lips in broken syllables. His hands moved to her breasts, teasing her nipples with his fingers before lowering his mouth to flick his tongue over them, sucking just hard enough to make her back arch off the bed.

“Felix—”

“I got you, baby,” he whispered against her skin.

He sat back on his knees, gripping her thighs as he lifted them higher, pressing them flush against his chest. The new angle made her cry out—he reached even deeper now, his thrusts sharper, rougher.

She writhed under him, her nails leaving faint red trails on his arms as he drove her closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned, watching the way she trembled beneath him.

Y/N clenched around him at his words, and he cursed under his breath before gripping her hips and flipping her onto her stomach.

She barely had time to process the shift before he pulled her hips up, pressing a hand against her lower back to keep her in place as he slid back inside.

Her fingers curled into the sheets as he started moving again, this time slower, deeper, making sure she felt every inch of him.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, running his hands over her waist, down to her ass, before delivering a teasing slap that sent a jolt of pleasure through her.

Y/N moaned into the pillows, her body melting under his touch.

“You like that?” he smirked, giving her another slow, hard thrust with a slap.

“Yes—please don’t stop,” she gasped.

Felix leaned over her back, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades.

“Oh, my gorgeous girl”

Y/N’s fingers curled around his sheets, her moans growing louder as he reached even deeper inside her, hitting spots that made her body shake. One of his hands moved to her front, fingers finding her clit and rubbing slow, teasing circles that made her nearly collapse against the bed.

Felix leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “I want you to come for me, baby,” he whispered, his voice sending a wave of heat straight to her core.

Her body tensed as pleasure built rapidly, her moans turning into desperate whimpers. Felix didn’t let up, his movements precise and relentless until she finally unraveled, a shuddering moan ripping from her throat.

Felix groaned at the feeling of her tightening around him, his thrusts growing sloppier as he chased his own release. With a few more deep strokes, he buried himself inside her, letting out a guttural moan as he reached his high.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their breaths mingling in the thick summer air. Y/N collapsed against the sheets, her body still trembling, while Felix pressed lazy kisses along her shoulder, his arm wrapping around her waist to keep her close.

“You,” he murmured against her skin, “are a fucking menace.”

She let out a breathless giggle, turning her head to look at him. “I did warn you I’d keep breaking laptops.”

Felix chuckled, pressing a final kiss to her cheek before pulling her snug against his chest. “Yeah, but now I think you’re just looking for excuses to come back.”

She smirked, biting her lip as she traced patterns on his arm. “Maybe.”

He grinned, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No need for excuses, baby. You can come over anytime you want.”

And she definitely planned to.

────୨ৎ────

Y/N stirred as the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. She felt something heavy draped over her waist and realized it was Felix’s arm, pulling her flush against his chest. His face was nestled against her neck, his breath slow and steady, tickling her skin.

A soft kiss pressed to her shoulder made her shiver. “Morning, gorgeous,” Felix murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

She turned in his embrace, meeting his sleepy gaze. His freckles stood out more in the morning light, and his messy hair only made him look even softer.

“Morning,” she whispered, smiling when he nuzzled into her neck again, pressing lazy kisses up to her jaw.

Felix sighed in pure contentment. “I don’t think I wanna let you leave.”

Y/N giggled, running her fingers through his hair. “You kinda have to at some point. I do have a life outside your bed, you know.”

He hummed against her skin before propping himself up on one elbow, his other hand trailing up and down her back. His touch was slow, almost reverent.

“I gotta take you out on a real date now,” he said suddenly, looking at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She raised an eyebrow. “Now you wanna take me on a date? After all that?”

Felix smirked, pressing another kiss to her lips, slow and deep. “I like to do things backwards, apparently. But yeah, I do.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “What do you say? Let me take you somewhere nice.”

Y/N pretended to think for a moment, though the giddy feeling in her chest betrayed her. “Hmm… only if there’s food involved.”

Felix laughed, giving her hip a playful squeeze. “Done deal, baby.”

They lay there a little longer, tangled in each other, trading kisses and whispers, until Y/N finally had to slip out of bed and gather her things. Felix watched her with a soft smile, only letting her go when she promised she’d see him again soon.

────୨ৎ────

By the time she stepped into her shared apartment with Seungmin, she was still floating on cloud nine. That was, until—

“YOU REALLY HAD SEX WITH HIM, YOU NAUGHTY GIRL!”

Y/N shrieked as Seungmin’s voice practically shattered the walls. He was standing in the hallway, mouth agape, pointing at her wrinkled dress and thoroughly ruined hair.

“Shut up!” she hissed, slapping a hand over his mouth, but he just muffled something against her palm before pulling away, eyes still wide in terror.