Pairings: Hufflepuff!Sunoo x Ravenclaw! Fem!reader
Genres: Harry Potter AU, Rivals to Lovers, Forced Proximity, Slow Burn, Fluff/Angst
Wordcount: 11k+
Summary: A late-night accident in Potions class magically tethers you and Sunoo together, torcing you to share every step, every breath, every feeling. What begins as rivalry quickly unravels into something softer... but was the spell really the problem, or just the excuse?
The dungeon classroom was dead quiet except for the hiss of simmering flames and the faint scratch of quills. The torches had burned low, shadows reaching long fingers across the stone walls. Everyone else had gone to dinner hours ago, but you were still here, hunched over your parchment like a soldier refusing retreat.
And across the room sat the reason your blood pressure lived permanently on the edge.
Kim Sunoo.
He wasn’t doing anything spectacular — just sitting there, back straight, robes neat, quill gliding like the world was his to annotate. But not a single strand of his hair was out of place. His ink didn’t blot, his robes weren’t wrinkled, and his flame burned steady and perfectly controlled, blue at the base and gold at the edges. He looked carved out of effortlessness, all tidy lines and unfairly good bone structure.
It wasn’t fair.
You were tired — hair slipping loose from its pin, eyes burning from rereading the same page five times, ink smudged across the side of your hand. Meanwhile, Sunoo looked like he could stroll into the Great Hall right now and charm every professor into giving him extra credit. The only imperfection about him was his mouth.
Because every time he opened it, you wanted to scream.
“You’ve been on the same paragraph for ten minutes,” he said flatly, not even bothering to look up from his notes. His voice carried easily in the quiet, just sharp enough to needle.
Your quill paused mid-stroke. “And you’ve been counting?”
He let out the faintest scoff — not even a laugh, just a soft exhale and the narrowing of his eyes. “Hard not to when you mutter every line like it owes you money.”
You clenched your jaw, resisting the urge to throw your inkwell at his perfectly symmetrical face. “At least I’m actually studying instead of writing love letters to my notes.”
His quill didn’t falter. He simply rolled his eyes, slow and deliberate, before flicking them back to you. “Better to love my notes than fail the quiz.”
The remark sliced sharper than it should have. Typical Sunoo — not cruel, but always hitting just close enough to sting. He never shouted, never snapped. He just… observed. Found the flaw, slipped the knife in with a dry comment, and returned to his work like nothing happened.
You hated him for it. You hated how composed he looked when you were unraveling. You hated how the corners of his mouth twitched like he was always two seconds from laughing at you. And you hated — truly hated — how handsome he was when he did it.
So you did what you always did: fought back.
“At least when I fail, I’ll still have a personality,” you muttered, flipping a page with unnecessary force.
This time, he did glance up, his eyes narrowing just slightly, assessing. His expression didn’t crack into a grin like it might with his friends. With you, all he offered was silence, then the smallest arch of his brow — condescending, practiced, infuriating.
“Some of us,” he said coolly, “don’t need to audition for attention. Our work speaks for itself.”
Your quill nearly snapped in half.
The next hour stretched thin, taut as bowstring. The only sounds were the occasional clink of glass or the low bubble of a potion being tested. You fought to keep your eyes open, exhaustion digging hooks behind your temples. Every few minutes you risked a glance at Sunoo — and every time, he looked the same. Composed. Sharp. Untouchable.
It made you restless.
You shifted, reaching for your reference book at the end of the table. But your fingers brushed too fast, catching the edge of your robe. In your tired clumsiness, you dragged half your notes with you, the parchment sliding, the stack of spellbooks teetering dangerously.
“Careful—” Sunoo started, tone edged with warning.
The books toppled. One heavy tome slammed to the floor, landing with a crack that sent dust spiraling. But worse were the phials — half-full with leftover practice draughts — that rolled straight into the shadow beneath the table.
You swore under your breath, dropping to your knees to grab them. Your hand hit chalk.
Not fresh chalk — old, faint carvings in the stone itself. Runes etched long ago, their outlines dulled with dust but not erased. One of the phials cracked against the grooves, liquid seeping straight into the lines.
The runes sparked.
“Wait!” Sunoo snapped, his chair scraping back as he stood.
But the circle was already waking, glowing brighter as the potion sank deeper. Light crawled through the runes like veins catching fire, humming against the air.
You tried to pull back. Instinct made you grab something steady — and of course the nearest thing was Sunoo, who had lunged forward to stop you.
Your hand locked around his wrist. His fingers caught yours automatically, firm and sure.
The circle flared gold.
For a moment it was all light and vibration, a pressure blooming against your chest like being caught between thunderclaps. Then it snapped shut with a pulse that knocked the air from your lungs.
When the smoke cleared, you were still clutching Sunoo’s wrist. His grip was tight, too, though the second he realized it, he loosened and pulled back. Only — he couldn’t.
A golden tether, thin and glowing faintly, stretched from your wrist to his. It hummed softly, pulsing like a heartbeat in the silence.
You both stared at it.
“…No,” you whispered, tugging instinctively.
The tether resisted, pulling him half a step closer until your shoulders nearly brushed.
Sunoo’s eyes narrowed, dark lashes shadowing the sharp cut of his gaze. His voice came out low, controlled, but laced with disbelief. “Tell me you didn’t just activate a binding circle.”
You yanked again, uselessly. “Why would I do that on purpose?”
“Because you’re reckless,” he said, thin eyes fixing on you. “And loud. And—” he gestured pointedly at the glowing tether, “—clearly cursed.”
Your blood boiled. “This is not my fault!”
His mouth twitched — not into a smile, but into the kind of look that said he was holding back ten insults and enjoying the restraint. “Of course it isn’t. Nothing ever is.”
The tether pulsed again, warm against your skin. Your stomach flipped, though whether it was magic or fury, you couldn’t tell.
You tried to step back; Sunoo followed unwillingly, dragged by the glowing thread. When he tested the opposite direction, you stumbled forward, colliding into his chest. He caught himself with a hissed breath, steady hands bracing you before letting go immediately like the touch burned.
“This is—” you started.
“Temporary,” he finished, clipped. “We’ll fix it.”
But even as he said it, his jaw clenched, and you swore you felt his irritation prickle under your own skin.
Your breath hitched. “…Did you just—”
“Yes,” he said tightly, meeting your eyes. “I can feel you. And judging by the pounding in my head, you’re about to start yelling again.”
You gaped at him, pulse racing, magic thrumming against your wrist in time with his.
This was going to be hell.
The tether glowed faintly in the dark, humming like a live wire between your wrists.
Sunoo didn’t waste time staring at it the way you kept doing — he was already moving, striding for the door like he’d been planning his escape since the second it appeared. His hand flexed, tugging yours along without hesitation.
“Come on,” he muttered, voice low and tight.
You stumbled after him, tugged by the golden link. His strides were longer than yours, brisk and efficient, each step eating the distance while you scrambled to keep your footing.
“Could you not drag me like a sack of potion ingredients?” you hissed, catching yourself before you tripped over your own robe again.
He cut a look at you over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, expression carved from stone. “If I slow down, we’ll get caught in the halls. Do you want to explain this to half the castle before we even figure out what it is?”
You pressed your lips together, unwilling to admit he had a point. The image of walking past a gaggle of gossip-hungry Hufflepuffs or, worse, a line of Slytherins — all smirking at the golden chain glowing between your wrists — made your stomach knot.
So you stayed quiet. And let him pull.
The halls were mercifully empty. Torchlight flickered across the stone floor, throwing shadows that stretched long and thin. The only sound was your mismatched footsteps — his, swift and steady; yours, a half-second too quick, always catching up. Every time you lagged, the tether tugged you forward with a sharp little reminder that Sunoo’s pace dictated yours now.
The irritation gnawed at you, sharp and humiliating. He looked so calm. His shoulders set, stride sure, not even a strand of hair out of place. Like he’d been waiting for this — for you to be the one stumbling while he led.
Too pretty, you thought viciously. Too put together. Too smug even when his mouth was shut.
The tether pulsed faintly against your skin, like it had overheard. You swore you felt his mood tighten in return — a flicker of irritation that wasn’t yours.
Sunoo’s jaw ticked. “Stop broadcasting every thought like a wireless.”
Your eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t break stride. “I told you. I can feel it. Every spike of annoyance, every—” he cut himself off, nostrils flaring, “—whatever that was just now.”
Heat climbed up your neck. You yanked at your wrist, uselessly. “Then stop eavesdropping.”
“I don’t have a choice,” he said flatly. “Trust me, if I did, I wouldn’t exactly sign up to swim in your emotions.”
You opened your mouth for a sharp retort, but the tether pulsed again, humming like it was laughing. The sound echoed off the empty walls, and you felt Sunoo’s exhale through the bond — a tight, controlled sigh.
Neither of you spoke again until the infirmary doors came into view.
Madam Pomfrey’s office was lit with soft candlelight, shelves lined with neatly arranged potions and bandages. She looked up from her desk when you and Sunoo entered, eyes already narrowing.
“Well?” she asked, voice brisk. “What’s the emergency at this hour?”
Sunoo stepped forward first, ever the composed one, though the tether pulled you right along with him. “Binding accident,” he said simply, lifting your joined wrists.
Madam Pomfrey’s eyebrows shot up. The golden thread glowed between your arms, pulsing gently in the warm light.
“Oh, heavens above,” she muttered, standing abruptly. She bustled over, her sharp eyes flicking between you both. “And how, exactly, did this happen?”
You opened your mouth, ready to explain about the toppled books and cracked phials, but Sunoo beat you to it.
“She tripped,” he said flatly.
You snapped your head toward him, scandalized. “I tripped because you—”
“Don’t start,” he cut in smoothly, his eyes narrowing just enough to remind you he held the high ground right now.
Madam Pomfrey clapped her hands once, silencing you both like children bickering over a toy. “Enough! Sit.”
You sat. Sunoo sat beside you, posture straight, expression infuriatingly calm. You wanted to elbow him just to ruin his composure, but the tether would only drag you with him.
Pomfrey muttered under her breath as she examined the tether, running a hand just above the glowing line. “Hm. Old magic. Rare these days.”
“Can you undo it?” you asked, too quickly, too hopeful.
“Not easily,” she said, frown deepening. “This kind of binding wasn’t designed to snap apart. It requires resolution — the magic feeds on tension.”
Your heart sank. “Resolution…?”
“Don’t look at me,” she said sharply. “I don’t make the rules. The magic will hold until you’ve settled whatever discord sparked it.”
Silence settled heavy. You could feel Sunoo stiffen beside you, the tether vibrating faintly with his sudden spike of annoyance.
“We don’t have discord,” he said finally, voice clipped.
You let out a bitter laugh. “Right. We just happen to despise each other coincidentally.”
He turned his head, thin eyes cutting sharp as a blade. “I don’t despise you.”
You blinked, startled by the honesty in his tone. But before you could process it, he rolled his eyes and added, “I just don’t enjoy you.”
There he was again — infuriating, precise, untouchable.
The tether pulsed, warm, humming in amusement or warning, you couldn’t tell.
Madam Pomfrey sighed, rubbing her temples. “You two had better figure it out quickly, because I’m not babysitting. Until then—” she gestured at the tether, “—consider yourselves inseparable. Better start deciding your sleeping arrangements.”
Your stomach twisted. Inseparable.
Sunoo rose smoothly to his feet, already adjusting his sleeve like nothing fazed him. He glanced down at you, expression flat but his tug on the tether sharp. “Let’s go.”
You stumbled upright, dragged by his steady pace again. Irritation buzzed through your chest like static.
“Would you stop pulling me like I’m your broomstick?” you snapped.
He didn’t slow. Didn’t even look back. His voice came cool and controlled: “Then keep up.”
And so you did. Because you had no choice.
The walk to Ravenclaw Tower was worse than the trek to the infirmary.
At least in the dungeons, the halls were empty. By the time you and Sunoo wound up near the marble staircases, a few stragglers were still out, whispering and laughing in clusters. The tether between you glowed faintly in the torchlight, a thread of obvious magic neither of you could hide. You felt their eyes on you — the curious stares, the shocked looks.
Sunoo’s jaw was tight, his strides clipped and fast, as though the faster he moved the less chance anyone had to see. Every time you lagged even half a step, the tether jerked your wrist, forcing you into a graceless shuffle to catch up. You guys decided on staying in your private head girl room.
“Slow down,” you hissed.
He didn’t glance back. “Keep up.”
Your teeth ground together, but you said nothing. He was right — the less you lingered, the better.
By the time you reached the Ravenclaw entrance, your patience was in tatters. The eagle knocker on the door tilted its head, eyes glimmering with wisdom too smug even for a riddle.
“What has to be broken before it can be used?” it asked.
You answered without hesitation. “An egg.”
The door swung open, and you tugged Sunoo inside before it could get nosy.
The Ravenclaw common room was silent, most of your housemates already asleep. Stars glimmered faintly through the tall arched windows, moonlight spilling across the blue and bronze decor. Normally, the place calmed you — bookshelves neat, the air cool and scented faintly with parchment and polished wood.
Tonight, though, you barely noticed. Your wrist still glowed with Sunoo tethered to the other end.
You tugged him toward the corridor that led to the private rooms reserved for house leaders. Being Head Girl had its perks: your own room, your own bath, a door you didn’t have to share with anyone else.
Except now you did.
The second the door shut behind you, the weight of reality sank like a stone in your stomach. One room. One bed. One bathroom. And Sunoo.
Sunoo looked around your space with that same critical eye he used in class — not openly judgmental, but sharp enough that you felt judged anyway. His gaze landed on the shelves crammed with books, the parchment stacked on your desk, the neat but crowded bulletin board above it.
“Figures,” he murmured, the faintest curve tugging at his mouth. “Your room looks like a library threw up.”
“Shut up,” you snapped automatically, marching toward your wardrobe. The tether followed, dragging him half a step after you.
“Stop yanking,” he muttered.
“Stop existing.”
The tether pulsed faintly, almost… amused.
You stopped in front of the wardrobe and froze. Clothes. Pajamas. Sleep. The problem you’d been ignoring all evening rose like a tidal wave.
Sunoo noticed the hesitation. His eyes narrowed, reading you like a textbook. “What?”
You turned on him, cheeks already heating. “We’re not… sleeping in the same bed.”
His brows lifted, unimpressed. “Did I ask to?”
“No,” you snapped. “I’m just making it clear.”
“You have one bed.” His tone was maddeningly matter-of-fact. “And last I checked, Madam Pomfrey didn’t say anything about conjuring another.”
Your stomach twisted. He wasn’t wrong. Your room was private but small — bed, desk, wardrobe, single armchair by the window. Unless one of you slept on the floor, there weren’t many options.
You glanced at the armchair. Sunoo followed your gaze.
“Don’t even think about it,” he said flatly. “That chair wouldn’t fit me.”
“Then maybe I’ll take the chair,” you said stubbornly.
He rolled his eyes, thin and sharp. “You’ll be useless tomorrow if you don’t sleep. And I’m not dragging you around all day.”
“You wouldn’t have to drag me—”
The tether pulsed sharply, buzzing your wrist, and you both froze. You weren’t sure if it was reacting to your bickering or warning you to stop, but the timing made your throat tighten.
“Fine,” you muttered, turning back to the wardrobe. “We’ll… figure it out.”
You stopped in front of the bathroom door, dread sinking like a stone.
“How are we supposed to do this?” you asked, turning to glare at him.
Sunoo looked just as unbothered as ever, though you could feel the flicker of unease under his calm mask through the tether. “Simple. One of us goes in. The other waits.”
You lifted your joined wrists pointedly. “We’re attached.”
He gave you a flat look, eyes narrowing. “Congratulations on catching up.”
“Don’t be a smartass,” you hissed. “You can’t exactly stand here while I change.”
His gaze flicked to you, unreadable, then away again. “Then change behind the door. I’ll face the other way.”
“That’s supposed to make this better?”
“Do you have a better plan?” he asked, voice clipped, thin eyes watching you like he knew you didn’t.
You groaned, dragging your free hand down your face. “This is hell.”
In the end, you compromised.
You tugged him just inside the bathroom, stretching the tether to its limit, then shoved him to stand facing the corner by the sink. He planted his feet, back straight, arms crossed — giving you his shoulder like a sulking statue. You positioned yourself as far as the tether allowed, muttering every curse you knew under your breath while you washed up and wriggled into your sleep clothes.
Every brush of fabric felt magnified, every splash of water too loud. The tether buzzed faintly with your embarrassment, and you swore you felt the faintest flicker of secondhand discomfort ripple from him, even though his face stayed blank.
“Done yet?” he asked finally, voice even.
“Almost,” you snapped. “Keep your eyes to yourself.”
“Relax,” he said, rolling his eyes. “You’re not that interesting.”
You yanked your wrist when you were finished, dragging him toward the door again. “Your turn.”
His preparation was worse. You stood awkwardly by the doorway as he brushed his teeth, washed his face, folded his robes with military precision — all while tethered to you. He didn’t rush, either. Every movement was measured, tidy, deliberate.
The worst part? He didn’t look ruffled at all. Not a drop of water on his collar, not a strand of hair out of place. Perfect. Irritating. Too pretty for his own good.
You hated him even more for it.
The room felt smaller once the bathroom ordeal was over. The tether buzzed faintly between you like it was smug about your humiliation.
You sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, arms crossed. Sunoo leaned against the desk, looking at you with narrowed eyes that seemed to gleam even in the dim lamplight.
“We’re not sharing a blanket,” you said immediately.
He exhaled, sharp through his nose. “Fine. I don’t want your germs anyway.”
Your jaw dropped. “My germs?”
“You mutter in your sleep,” he said, as if it were fact. “I’m not risking secondhand insanity.”
“I don’t mutter!”
His gaze flicked to you, flat and unimpressed. “You mutter in class. You mutter when you study. I’d bet good money you mutter when you dream.”
You were going to strangle him. “If I mutter, it’s only because people like you deserve to be cursed out in multiple dimensions.”
He rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath — irony not lost on you. Then, without asking, he toed off his socks and slid onto the mattress. He lay stiffly on his side of the bed, one arm bent under his head, back resolutely turned to you.
“You’re impossible,” you whispered.
“Mm,” he hummed. “Takes one to know one.”
The tether pulled you when you shifted, forcing you to climb in beside him. You yanked the covers halfway and cocooned yourself, your back to his.
For a while, the silence stretched — not comfortable, but taut. You could feel his irritation through the bond, sharp little flares whenever you moved, and you knew he could feel yours too. It was like lying beside a storm cloud.
Finally, his voice broke the silence. Low, rougher now with fatigue. “Temporary. That’s all this is.”
You closed your eyes, clutching the blanket tighter. “Temporary,” you echoed.
The tether pulsed, warm and steady, like it didn’t believe either of you.
The next morning, you slipped out of the tower before dawn, tethered wrist dragging Sunoo with you. Neither of you spoke; the air was cold, the castle halls empty except for the occasional portrait blinking awake.
It wasn’t until you reached the Great Hall that the true horror hit.
You froze in the doorway. Long tables stretched down the hall, a handful of early risers scattered among them. More would come. And soon.
Sunoo didn’t hesitate. He tugged your wrist, guiding you toward the Hufflepuff table.
“Why here?” you hissed.
“Because I woke up in your tower,” he said evenly. “Now it’s my turn. Fair’s fair.”
You wanted to argue — but he was already sitting, pulling you down with him in one smooth motion. You nearly toppled into the bench.
The first years nearest you froze mid-bite, wide-eyed. A pair of Ravenclaws across the aisle nudged each other, whispering. By the time more students trickled in, the stares had multiplied.
Kim Sunoo and you. Side by side. Eating breakfast.
Whispers rose like steam. The notorious rivals of seventh year — the ones who couldn’t survive a class without barbed comments and raised voices — tethered wrist-to-wrist, sitting shoulder to shoulder.
Even the first years were staring. Judging.
Sunoo didn’t flinch. He filled his plate calmly, buttering his toast like he wasn’t the subject of half the hall’s attention. His composure only made your skin crawl hotter.
A group of his friends slid into the seats across from you. Jake, Jungwon, and a couple others, all blinking between you and Sunoo like they’d walked into the wrong dimension.
Jake leaned forward, eyes wide. “Okay. What—”
Before he could finish, Sunoo raised his hand — yours lifting with it unwillingly, the tether making the gesture look ridiculous.
“It’s not what you think,” he said, voice sharp and commanding enough to silence the table. “This isn’t by choice. A spell went wrong. That’s all. I would never choose to be in her presence voluntarily.”
The words landed like stones in your chest.
He dropped your joined hands back to the table with finality, picked up his fork, and began eating with the same infuriating composure as always.
Conversation at the table shifted — not away from you, exactly, but muffled into sidelong glances and half-hidden smiles. Sunoo deflected questions with practiced ease, even laughed at one of Jake’s jokes. His eyes curved into bright crescents, smile glowing like sunlight on water.
It was jarring. Whiplash.
He looked like a different person. The same boy who stayed up late in the dorms with his friends, laughing and teasing. A Sunoo you never got to see.
And you? You sat stiff, stabbing your eggs with your fork, humiliated and silent.
Because even though his words were sharp, even though they’d cut deep — your wrist still pulsed faintly in time with his. And you swore you could feel the truth underneath, quieter than anything he’d admit aloud.
If breakfast was humiliating, the rest of the day was pure torture.
By the time first period rolled around, you and Sunoo had already tripped over each other twice in the corridors, been yanked in opposite directions by your own stubbornness three times, and earned more stares than a pair of professors caught dueling in the hall.
He didn’t make it easier. He walked like he had somewhere to be five minutes ago, each stride smooth and annoyingly long, while you scrambled to keep up, tugging at his wrist.
“Do you have to walk like you’re leading a parade?” you muttered as you stumbled into Charms.
He flicked his eyes at you, unimpressed. “Do you have to walk like you’re wading through mud?”
Your jaw tightened. The tether hummed between you, a faint reminder that your irritation bled into his pulse and vice versa.
Professor Flitwick’s eyes nearly popped when he saw you two come in tethered together, but to his credit, he only raised a brow before moving on. The rest of the class wasn’t as discreet.
Whispers crackled like static as you and Sunoo took the only available desk in the back — one chair, one desk, two people forced shoulder-to-shoulder.
“This is your fault,” you hissed as you dropped your bag, elbow colliding with his.
“My fault?” he said coolly, arranging his books with precision. “If anyone deserves blame, it’s your clumsy—”
You pinched his wrist through the tether.
He inhaled sharply, eyes narrowing. “Don’t.”
“Then shut up,” you whispered, teeth clenched.
Professor Flitwick clapped his hands for attention, and you both forced yourselves to sit still. But every time you reached for your wand, the tether tugged his sleeve, jerking his arm. Every time he shifted to take notes, your elbow cramped against his side.
By the end of class, your parchment was crinkled, his handwriting was slanted, and both of you looked like you’d fought a small war under the desk.
Between classes, the tether was worse.
You wanted to head left toward the library; he pulled right toward Transfiguration. The golden thread tightened like a leash until you nearly collided chest-first.
“Merlin’s sake, warn me before you drag me,” you snapped.
“Maybe keep up instead of drifting like a lost ghost,” he retorted.
The tether pulsed warm, buzzing your wrists. This time, though, you caught something that wasn’t irritation — a flash of something else, something you couldn’t name. His exasperation mixing with… concern?
You blinked at him, thrown off, but he had already tugged you forward again, jaw set.
The staring was worse in this class. A cluster of first years in the corner whispered furiously, wide eyes darting between you two. Even Professor McGonagall’s lips pressed thin as she cleared her throat.
“Is there a reason you two are shackled together?” she asked pointedly.
Before you could speak, Sunoo raised your joined hands, his voice crisp and controlled. “Spell mishap, Professor. Madam Pomfrey is aware.”
McGonagall’s eyes narrowed, but she nodded once and moved on. The rest of the class didn’t. You felt the stares like heat on your back.
Sunoo ignored them, sitting with perfect posture, quill poised. You, meanwhile, struggled to keep from shaking with embarrassment as you scrawled notes beside him.
At one point, you muttered under your breath, “You really enjoy pretending this doesn’t bother you, don’t you?”
He didn’t look at you. “It doesn’t.”
But the tether pulsed again, hot and sharp, betraying him. And you smirked despite yourself.
By afternoon, the tether had taken on a personality of its own. Every stumble, every tug, every brush of wrists sent a pulse through you both.
When you reached for an ingredient in Potions, Sunoo’s arm yanked with you, nearly knocking a vial off the counter.
“Are you trying to kill us?” he muttered.
“Are you trying to control me?” you shot back.
“Clearly, someone has to.”
The tether pulsed, sharp with your anger — but beneath it, you swore you felt his heartbeat skip.
You turned to glare at him. His thin eyes met yours, steady, daring.
Neither of you spoke the rest of the class, but the tension coiled thick, humming through the tether like it was feeding off you.
By the time the day ended, you were drained. Your wrist ached, your head pounded, and yet Sunoo still looked composed, like he’d stepped straight out of a uniform catalog. Too neat. Too handsome. Too infuriating.
And when your eyes lingered on him too long, he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Stop staring.”
You snapped back instantly, “In your dreams.”
But the tether pulsed warm again — almost like it knew better.
Two days.
Two days tethered wrist-to-wrist with Kim Sunoo, and somehow you hadn’t committed murder. You weren’t sure how.
The tension hadn’t eased — if anything, it thickened, stretched tauter every hour you were forced to share air, meals, classes, sleep. Your nerves were frayed raw.
And the worst part? You’d stopped censoring yourself.
“Move your pretty-boy legs faster, I’m not your fucking pet,” you snapped as he strode down the hallway, tugging you behind him like luggage.
His head turned sharply, eyes narrowing, his mouth parting with a sound that was almost a growl. “Then walk properly. Merlin, it’s like dragging around a broken broom.”
Your wrist ached where the tether pulsed hot between you, feeding on the irritation. A few second-years scuttled past, gawking at the glowing thread. You wanted to hex them and yourself at the same time.
Sunoo huffed, sharp, his shoulders stiff. “You swear at me one more time and—”
“And what?” you cut in, voice dripping venom. “You’ll smile me to death?”
That landed. He stopped dead, turning to face you fully, eyes thin, jaw tight. For once, the calm mask cracked, irritation flashing raw across his features.
“Careful,” he muttered, voice low and strained. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
The heat that surged through your chest wasn’t entirely anger. You hated that. Hated how the bond made it worse, muddling your fury with the thrum of his.
If it weren’t bad enough being tethered to him, the universe seemed to delight in rubbing salt in the wound.
Everywhere you went, people stopped Sunoo.
“Sunoo! Did you finish McGonagall’s essay already?”
“Sunoo, are you coming to study group later?”
“Sunoo, sit with us at dinner!”
The tether dragged you into each conversation, your wrist chained to his while you stood there like his shadow. Like his personal bodyguard.
And he ignored you. Completely.
Not maliciously — he wasn’t cruel enough to shove you away in front of people — but he didn’t introduce you, didn’t acknowledge you, didn’t so much as glance your way while he chatted and laughed.
You stood awkwardly, every time, plastered to his side while the tether hummed at your wrist.
“Do you ever shut up?” you muttered one afternoon after the fourth hallway stop, yanking at the bond. “Or is your entire personality just collecting worshippers?”
He gave you a side-eye, unimpressed. “Sorry I have friends.”
The bluntness stung more than you expected.
You had friends too, of course. But they weren’t really yours. They were… mutuals. Acquaintances who liked Sunoo just as much — sometimes more. You couldn’t even vent about him to them without sounding bitter, because to everyone else, he was golden. Polite. Lovable.
That asshole.
By late afternoon, the irritation was boiling.
You yanked your wrist when he stopped to greet another Hufflepuff boy. “Go on,” you muttered under your breath. “Flash your smile. I’ll just stand here like a trophy chained to your arm.”
His eyes cut to you, sharper than usual. The smile he’d been about to give his friend faltered, replaced by a thin line.
“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” he said quietly, so only you could hear.
“Stop what?” you snapped. “Existing next to your perfection? Sorry, I’ll try to evaporate next time.”
The tether pulsed hard, buzzing hot, making both of you flinch.
His composure slipped another inch. You could see it in the tight set of his jaw, the way his fingers flexed at his side. His cool exterior — the one that made him seem untouchable — was cracking, and for the first time you thought maybe, maybe, you weren’t the only one losing your sanity.
“Keep talking,” he muttered finally, eyes narrowing. “Let’s see how long before you choke on your own sarcasm.”
You almost laughed — sharp, humorless. “Better than choking on all your friends’ praise.”
His breath caught, sharp, but he didn’t reply. He just tugged your wrist and kept walking, faster now, like if he didn’t, he might say something he couldn’t take back.
The tether pulsed again, but this time it wasn’t hot with anger. It was heavy. Like both your hearts had skipped, then slammed back into rhythm together.
And it left you unsettled in a way insults never had.
Three days tethered.
The remarks had slowed — not because you’d made peace, but because you were both too tired to keep up the constant warfare. Your barbs had grown shorter, his comebacks drier. Sometimes the silence between you felt heavier than the fights.
You weren’t sure which was worse.
That night, you sat at your desk, quill scratching across parchment. The lamplight painted shadows across the room, your private Ravenclaw quarters quieter than usual. Sunoo sat on the edge of your bed, flipping absently through one of your books — your book — his wrist tethered lazily to yours.
The quiet grated.
“You can’t just steal my book,” you muttered, not looking up.
He turned a page, unbothered. “You weren’t using it.”
“That’s not the point.”
He hummed, the sound low, dismissive. “Then make a better point.”
You groaned, dropping your quill. “Do you ever get tired of yourself?”
He finally looked up, thin eyes narrowing. “Do you?”
It should’ve turned into another back-and-forth. A spat. A sharp clash of words. But instead, the room fell quiet again, both of you too worn to pick the fight clean.
Your wrist ached faintly from the tether, the magic pulsing steady and unyielding. You rubbed at it absentmindedly, trying to ease the weight of it.
“You know,” you said suddenly, surprising yourself as the words slipped free, “I don’t know how you do it.”
Sunoo blinked, brows furrowing. “Do what?”
You gestured vaguely, trying not to look at him. “All of it. Everyone likes you. You’ve got people stopping you in the halls every five minutes, professors praising you, friends everywhere. Meanwhile…” Your throat tightened, and you forced a laugh. “Meanwhile I’m stuck looking like the bitter rival who can’t stand you.”
Silence.
You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It had just… spilled out. But the tether pulsed warm, heavy, carrying your feelings straight across the bond. And you felt it — the second Sunoo caught them.
His book lowered slowly to his lap.
“That’s what this is about?” His voice was quiet, sharper than usual not from irritation but something else.
You scowled at the floor, heat crawling up your neck. “Forget it.”
The tether pulsed harder, your embarrassment tangled with his reaction. It was like standing too close to a flame.
“No,” he said, voice tighter now, a thread of agitation slipping through. “You think I enjoy this? Being pulled into every conversation, smiling at everyone, pretending I don’t feel half the things I actually do?”
You looked up, startled. His composure — that smooth, unshakable calm — was cracking. His eyes were sharp, yes, but his voice carried something raw.
“You think I like being everybody’s favorite? You think it doesn’t get exhausting?” He let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “Merlin, you really don’t get it.”
Your chest tightened. The bond buzzed with his frustration, echoing inside your ribs until you weren’t sure which feelings were yours anymore.
“I…” You swallowed, words sticking. “I just thought you didn’t care.”
For the first time in days, he stared at you without the armor of sarcasm. No smirk. No thin-eyed roll. Just tired, sharp honesty.
“I care too much,” he said finally. His voice was quiet, but the tether hummed like it was shouting the truth straight into your bones.
The room felt smaller suddenly, the air heavier. Neither of you moved.
And for once, neither of you had a retort.
By the third week, the edges of your anger had dulled.
Not gone — never gone — but worn down like stone under water. The constant bickering, the tugging, the snide remarks… they took energy neither of you had anymore. Living glued to Sunoo meant rationing your fire.
You still snapped. He still rolled his eyes. But the words landed lighter now, like the reflexes they’d become.
The mornings were the worst at first. Sharing the bathroom, brushing your teeth back-to-back, trading glares in the mirror. But after days of the same, the hostility thinned.
One morning, your toothpaste tube slipped from your hand. He caught it without looking, handed it back.
“Thanks,” you muttered, brushing quickly.
“Don’t waste it next time,” he said, tone flat but not cruel.
You almost smiled into the mirror, realizing he hadn’t jabbed at you, just… stated a fact.
Walking through the castle changed, too. The first days were all jerks and yanks, but now your strides unconsciously matched.
When he pulled too fast, you muttered, “Easy, long legs.”
When you slowed too much, he’d sigh, “Keep up, short stack.”
But there was no bite in it anymore. Just… rhythm.
Sometimes you even caught yourself falling into conversation, almost normal. Passing comments about homework, a professor, the weather outside. Not friendly, exactly, but not war either.
The professors had stopped asking questions about the tether, though the students hadn’t. Whispers still followed you, but you both ignored them now.
During one double Potions, Sunoo nudged your elbow when your hand cramped over your notes. “Your wrist is locking. Shift your grip,” he said, quiet so only you could hear.
You blinked at him, surprised. “You notice everything, don’t you?”
His eyes narrowed, sharp but not unkind. “You make everything obvious.”
The words should’ve cut. Instead, they settled in your chest, warm and unwelcome.
Evenings in your dorm had softened, too. The first nights had been tense, every movement a battle for space. But now, the bed had divided itself into silent borders.
He stayed on his side. You stayed on yours.
One night, you rolled over, blanket slipping off your shoulder. Without a word, Sunoo tugged it back over you with the tethered hand.
You stiffened, ready for a remark. But none came.
The silence was heavier than any jab.
It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t friendship.
It was simply survival.
Being bound together stripped away the sharpest weapons. You saw him tired, silent, hair mussed for once. He saw you yawning mid-sentence, ink stains on your fingertips, head tipped onto your arm at your desk.
The fight was leaving not because you’d chosen peace, but because proximity had made the battle pointless.
And though neither of you would admit it, the absence of malice was more dangerous than the presence of hate.
Because without the fire, you weren’t sure what was left burning between you.
It was past curfew again, both of you hunched over parchment in your room. Your quill scratched unevenly, exhaustion dragging at your eyelids, while Sunoo sat across from you, posture infuriatingly perfect as always.
“Your handwriting looks like a Hippogriff trampled it,” he muttered without looking up.
“Better than looking like a robot practiced calligraphy for fun,” you shot back automatically, your words sluggish with fatigue.
The tether pulsed faintly — not irritation this time, but something softer. Mutual weariness, shared through the thread.
You rubbed your temple, groaning. “I swear, if Flitwick assigns one more foot of parchment, I’m just going to—” You mimed stabbing yourself in the chest with your quill, dramatic and pitiful.
The gesture caught him off guard. He blinked once, then — before he could stop it — the corner of his mouth twitched. His shoulders even shook with the tiniest laugh.
And then it happened: his smile.
Not the sarcastic twitch he gave in class, not the polite curve he showed professors. A real, unguarded smile. Bright. Bare. Sunlight breaking through.
It lasted all of two seconds before he caught himself. His lips flattened, his eyes narrowed, and he ducked his head back to his notes.
But the tether betrayed him.
You felt it — the warmth in his chest, the spark of something light and surprising, like laughter pressed into bone. It mingled with your own, so strong you knew he felt your answering jolt too.
Neither of you spoke.
The silence wasn’t tense this time. It was charged. Different.
And the tether pulsed again, carrying that mysterious emotion neither of you dared to name.
By the end of the week, breakfast at the Hufflepuff table had become routine.
At first, you sat stiff and silent while Sunoo’s friends crowded around, their curiosity sharp as knives. But over days, the edge dulled. Somehow, without planning it, you’d ended up talking to Jake and Jungwon.
This morning was no different. Jake was midway through an overdramatic story about misplacing his broom, Jungwon poking holes in the logic while you laughed into your pumpkin juice.
“—and then I thought I’d left it in the courtyard, but it turns out I’d leaned it against the owlery like an idiot,” Jake said, face flushed with animated embarrassment.
“Typical,” Jungwon deadpanned.
You grinned. “Honestly, I’m impressed you found it again at all. You’d lose your own head if it wasn’t attached.”
Jake pointed at you, delighted. “See? She gets it!”
The three of you laughed, easy and unforced.
Beside you, Sunoo ate in silence.
But the tether pulsed again, carrying something you couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t irritation — that had faded. It wasn’t jealousy exactly, either. It was heavier. Stranger.
He chewed his toast, expression neutral, but you could feel it through the bond. The weight of him noticing you weren’t just tolerated anymore — you were part of this circle. His circle.
And for reasons he’d never say out loud, he didn’t mind.
Jake leaned across the table suddenly, smirking. “See, Sunoo? She’s actually funny when she’s not insulting you.”
Jungwon grinned. “Maybe she should ditch you and hang with us.”
Sunoo’s fork paused mid-air. He looked at you then — a flash, thin eyes sharp — and for the briefest moment you caught something unguarded.
Not annoyance. Not smugness. Something else.
Then it was gone. He rolled his eyes, setting the fork down. “Trust me, she’d get tired of you two in a day.”
But the tether pulsed again, steady and warm, like it knew he didn’t believe his own words.
The corridor was buzzing with students changing classes, voices bouncing off the stone walls. You were halfway through being dragged toward your next lesson when a voice called out:
“Sunoo!”
You both stopped automatically, the tether tugging tight.
A Slytherin girl with sleek dark hair and a perfectly smug smile appeared at his side, sliding into step like she owned the floor. She didn’t even glance at you.
“I was wondering,” she said smoothly, tilting her head at him, “if you wanted to meet at the Astronomy Tower tonight. Just the two of us.”
The words sent irritation pulsing straight through the tether. Yours. His. Both tangled together.
Sunoo’s face didn’t flicker. Calm. Collected. Infuriatingly polite.
“I can’t,” he said evenly. He lifted his wrist a fraction, letting the golden tether gleam in the torchlight. “As you can see.”
The girl’s eyes narrowed briefly before darting to you. Her lips curved into a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “Then just cut her hand off. Problem solved.”
The heat that rushed through your chest was immediate and violent. Your mouth opened, ready to unleash something venomous, words sharp enough to flay her smugness off her face.
But you never got the chance.
“Funny,” Sunoo said before you could speak, his tone cool and razor-sharp. His thin eyes cut to hers, flat and icy. “Last I checked, desperate jokes aren’t a good look. Might want to check a mirror before you try again.”
The girl froze, color rising to her cheeks. She wasn’t used to that — Sunoo was supposed to be sweet, playful, always smiling. Not this cold, sassy, precise cut.
She scoffed, huffed, and spun on her heel with a stomp, her hair whipping behind her.
The tether pulsed hot, your chest thrumming with adrenaline — and something else. That mysterious emotion again, threaded tight between you.
You looked at him as he tugged you forward, his stride quick, his jaw set.
“Why did you do that?” you asked finally, voice low.
He shrugged one shoulder, not meeting your eyes. “She’s asked me out before. Annoying. Figured it was as good a chance as any to cut her off.”
The words were casual, dismissive. But the tether buzzed steady against your skin, humming with an undercurrent that said otherwise.
You knew there was more to it.
And though he’d never admit it, you couldn’t stop the thought: for once, his sharpness hadn’t been aimed at you. It had been wielded for you.
The tether pulsed once more, heavy and warm, like it agreed.
The courtyard was buzzing with late afternoon chatter, sunlight spilling across the stone benches. You sat on the edge of one, tethered wrist resting on your knee, trying to enjoy the warmth.
Jake dropped into the seat on your other side, all easy smiles and golden warmth.
“Thought I’d find y'allhere,” he said brightly. His eyes flicked to the glowing tether and Sunoo, then back to your face, his grin widening. “Guess Sunoo’s still your shadow.”
You smirked, leaning back a little. “More like I’m his ball and chain.”
Jake laughed, the sound warm. “If that’s true, you wear it well.”
The tether pulsed faintly, sharp and hot. You didn’t look at Sunoo, but you felt it — the flicker of irritation that wasn’t yours.
Jake didn’t notice. He leaned closer, voice conspiratorial. “So, you coming to my match this weekend? Could use a Ravenclaw brain for strategy… or maybe just a lucky charm in the stands.”
You raised a brow, pretending to think. “Lucky charm, huh? That’s a new one.”
“Not new,” he said, eyes crinkling. “Just true.”
The tether burned suddenly, jealousy rising so strong it made your chest tighten. You blinked, startled, and glanced at Sunoo.
He was silent, expression calm to anyone else. But you could feel it. The spike of something dark and hot he was trying to smother.
You brushed it off quickly. Sunoo? Jealous? Impossible. He’d rather eat his own wand than care about you and Jake.
Jake opened his mouth again, grin easy. “So what do you say? Come be my charm? I’ll even—”
“We have to go,” Sunoo cut in suddenly, his tone clipped. He stood in one smooth motion, tugging your wrist with him.
You stumbled up, eyes wide. “What—”
“The library,” Sunoo said flatly, already steering you away. “Test tomorrow.”
You blinked. “We don’t have a—”
His eyes snapped to yours, sharp and warning. You swallowed the rest of the sentence, lips pressing together.
Jake looked after you both, brows raised in surprise, but you managed a quick, awkward smile. “Bye, Jake!”
He waved, still smiling, and you were dragged out of the courtyard by Sunoo’s swift strides.
The tether pulsed, buzzing with his tightly leashed emotions.
You stared at his profile, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his lips pressed thin. “You know,” you said finally, your voice low, testing, “you’re awfully invested in my study habits all of a sudden.”
His eyes flicked to you, unreadable. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
But the tether betrayed him. Jealousy throbbed hot between you, undeniable.
You swallowed, heat crawling up your neck, brushing it off even as your heart hammered.
Because Sunoo being jealous of Jake? Of you?
…couldn’t be.
Could it?
The Astronomy Tower was quiet at night. Too quiet. The kind of silence that made every step echo, every breath feel like it carried weight.
Sunoo had dragged you up here past curfew, his excuse simple: “Your room’s too stuffy. I need air.”
You’d rolled your eyes, but followed anyway, tether glowing faintly between you like the castle itself wanted to keep you in check.
Now you sat side by side on the stone ledge, the night sprawling open before you. Stars scattered across the sky like spilled potion, the moon hanging low and bright.
It could’ve been romantic.
If Sunoo wasn’t complaining.
“I’m telling you,” he said, voice animated, eyes fixed on the stars, “the way people talk about constellations makes no sense. They connect the dots wrong on purpose, I swear. Orion’s belt? Those stars are light-years apart, and everyone pretends it’s just some neat little line. It’s scientifically irresponsible.”
You blinked at him, half-dazed from the night air. “Sunoo… no one’s taking constellation diagrams as gospel.”
“They should care!” he said, indignant, his hands waving as if he could rearrange the sky itself. “It’s misleading! Some poor first year is going to think the stars are neighbors when really they’re galaxies apart. That’s a tragedy waiting to happen.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”
He pouted, lips pursing as he leaned back against the cold stone. “Ridiculous, or the only one making sense?”
You didn’t answer right away. Because in the middle of his rant, you’d turned your head to look at him.
The moonlight softened his features, tracing the curve of his cheek, the slope of his nose. His styled hair, usually neat and perfect, was a little mussed from the climb — a stray strand falling across his forehead. His eyes, sharp by day, looked softer now, glassy with starlight.
Pretty. Too pretty.
Your stomach flipped before you could stop it, heat blooming under your ribs.
And then he looked at you.
You braced yourself for his irritation, expecting the tether to drown you in his familiar annoyance. But it didn’t. The flutter in your chest only grew stronger, sharper, undeniable.
You tore your gaze away, fixing it on the sky again, heart thudding.
For a moment, silence stretched between you. Only the sound of your breathing, the hum of the tether, and the whisper of wind over stone.
Then Sunoo’s voice came, softer than you’d ever heard it.
“You make it less boring.”
Your head whipped toward him, eyes wide. His face was turned up to the stars, but you could see the way his lips parted, like he hadn’t meant to say it at all.
The tether pulsed warm, steady, carrying the weight of his words straight into you.
Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. Shock rooted you in place.
Sunoo’s eyes flicked to you then, catching your stunned expression. His own widened a fraction — like he’d startled himself.
And just as quickly, his mask snapped back on. He stood abruptly, tugging you with him.
“It’s late,” he said, voice brisk now, controlled. “We should sleep. Long day.”
The walk back to your dorm was silent, the tether buzzing faintly between you. Neither of you spoke. Neither of you looked at the other.
But when you finally climbed into bed, staring at the ceiling, you knew one thing for certain.
You fell first.
But didn’t know.
Sunoo fell harder.
The first thing you felt that morning wasn’t the sunlight streaming faintly through the curtains or the cool air seeping in from the cracked window.
It was warmth.
Strong and steady, wrapping around you like it belonged there.
Sunoo’s arm was draped firmly across your waist, pulling you close. His chest pressed against your back, his breaths slow and deep, perfectly in sync with yours.
For a second, half-asleep, you didn’t question it. The tether had trained you into closeness; mornings had blurred into a pattern of accidentally brushing knees, falling asleep shoulder-to-shoulder, pretending it meant nothing. This felt like another version of that.
But something was different.
You shifted slightly, blinking into the hazy light — and that’s when you realized.
The tether wasn’t tugging. It wasn’t humming or buzzing between you like it always did.
It was silent.
Gone.
Your chest tightened.
Sunoo stirred then, his grip tightening instinctively before his eyes fluttered open. For a moment, he didn’t move. His face was relaxed, softer than you’d ever seen it — a faint crease in his brow smoothed out by sleep, hair a little mussed, one strand falling across his forehead.
And then realization struck.
His body stiffened.
He pulled back quickly, eyes widening as he followed your gaze to your joined wrists. Nothing bound you anymore. No golden glow. No tether.
He let go like he’d been burned, scrambling back so fast he slipped off the bed entirely, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
You sat up fast, messy hair falling into your face. “Sunoo?”
He didn’t answer, too busy staring at his wrist like it had betrayed him. His chest rose and fell quickly, his composure cracking.
Then you saw it — the truth.
The tether was gone.
Your heart lurched, then broke into a grin before you could stop it. Relief spilled through you like sunlight. “Finally!” you gasped, jumping off the bed.
Your eyes were wide, a smile tugging your lips as you turned toward him. “We’re free.”
But the reaction that met you wasn’t joy.
It was sharp. Bitter.
Sunoo was on his feet now, brushing dust off his sleep trousers, jaw tight. There was no light in his expression, no soft curve of a smile. Just cold.
Your grin faltered. “You… don’t look happy.”
He didn’t meet your eyes. His voice was clipped when he answered. “Thrilled.”
The single word landed heavy, colder than any retort he’d thrown before.
You blinked, confused. “Sunoo—what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said too quickly, reaching for the robes draped neatly over your chair. His movements were sharp, efficient, like each tug and fold of fabric was punishment. “It’s what we wanted, right? No more tether. No more… inconvenience.”
The way he said it — like the days spent side by side had been nothing but a nuisance — cut deeper than any of your old bickering ever had.
Your throat tightened. “Is that all this was to you?”
His hand stilled on the satchel he’d left by your desk. For a moment, he didn’t answer. Then he forced a shrug, slipping the strap over his shoulder. “What else would it be?”
The words gave you whiplash. The Sunoo you’d seen under the stars, the one who smiled without meaning to, the one who pulled the blanket back over you when you’d rolled away — he was gone. Back was the Sunoo who smirked, who scoffed, who cut sharp with his tongue.
And yet… the tether might have disappeared, but you still felt something twisting heavy in the space between you.
You stepped forward despite yourself. “Sunoo, I—”
“Don’t.” His voice cut through the air like a blade. He adjusted his satchel, eyes flicking anywhere but you. “It’s late. I have to go.”
Late? It was barely morning. You opened your mouth to call him out on the lie, but the look on his face — tight, guarded, almost desperate — stopped you.
He moved to the door, hand gripping the knob, his shoulders rigid. For a second, it seemed like he might turn, might say something real.
Instead, his voice dropped low, almost too soft to hear.
“Goodbye.”
And then he was gone.
The silence left in his wake was deafening.
You stood frozen for a moment, staring at the empty space he’d just occupied. Your hands trembled slightly, your heart twisting in your chest.
Finally, you sank back onto the bed, your knees folding under you. The sheets were still warm where he’d been. You pressed your palm against the spot, your throat tightening until it hurt to breathe.
You should’ve never let your guard down. Should’ve never let yourself look at him under starlight, listen to his endless complaints, laugh at his stubbornness. Should’ve never let yourself care.
Because now he thought of you the way he always had — a rival. An inconvenience. Nothing more.
But you didn’t.
You’d grown fond of him. Too fond. And now your heart ached, raw and heavy, because the tether was gone but the feeling it left behind wasn’t.
The days that followed blurred into something familiar. Too familiar.
Classes. Hallway patrols. Late nights grading papers and checking dorm curfews.
It was almost as if nothing had happened.
Almost.
Because the tether was gone, and with it, so was Sunoo.
Meals turned into a game of glances.
You sat at the Ravenclaw table, pushing food around your plate, pretending to listen while Jake rattled on about the Charms professor’s strange obsession with pumpkin pasties.
“Swear he eats three at a time. Like—three, not two, not four, three,” Jake said, shaking his head dramatically. “It’s terrifying.”
You laughed weakly, just enough to pass, but your eyes betrayed you.
They wandered. Across the hall. Past the sea of students, past the floating candles, straight to the Hufflepuff table.
Where Sunoo sat,styled jet black hair gleaming under the candlelight, smiling at something Jungwon said.
And when your gaze lingered too long, he shifted. He never looked back. Not once.
He avoided your eyes like they were poison.
It hurt more than you’d ever admit.
At night, when you finally collapsed into your bed, you buried your face in your pillow, trying to smother the ache.
But the sheets betrayed you.
The faint scent of blossom perfume still clung there — soft, delicate, the same one Sunoo once told you he wore because colognes made him nauseous.
You hadn’t noticed it before. Not when he was still there, breathing the same air.
Now it was all you could smell.
And it hollowed you out.
You saw him in the hallway one afternoon, just outside the library. The change struck you immediately — blonde hair, styled neat, light catching on every strand.
It fit him. Too well.
Your chest squeezed. You wanted to walk up, to tell him. To smile for once and say, it suits you, Sunoo.
But before you could take a step, Angie appeared. The same Slytherin girl he’d cut off for you weeks ago.
This time, he didn’t look cold. He laughed at something she said, head tipping slightly, his smile wide enough to make her blush.
The sight was a dagger straight through you.
Your stomach dropped, and you spun away before he could see.
You slipped into an empty classroom, the door clicking shut behind you. Your hands gripped the edge of a desk as you bowed your head, tears falling hot and fast.
You pressed your fist to your mouth, trying to keep quiet. Trying not to choke on the sound.
So many emotions pressed heavy on your chest, clawing to get out, until all you could do was let them spill in silence.
It kept happening.
The friends who had once hovered around you both in the hallways drifted back to him, orbiting Sunoo like they always had. You became background again. Invisible.
You carried on your Head Girl duties, pacing halls, checking common rooms, pretending the exhaustion was from work and not from nights spent staring at the ceiling.
Sleep barely came. And when it did, it was shallow, restless, haunted by phantom warmth at your side.
Jake and Jungwon tried, bless them. They caught you in the corridor one evening, voices low with concern.
“Hey,” Jungwon said softly. “Are you—”
“I’ve got to do my hourly sweep,” you cut in quickly, forcing authority into your tone. “Prefects aren’t going to check themselves.”
It wasn’t true. Not even close.
But you walked away anyway, leaving their worried looks behind.
Because what could you say?
That the boy you’d sworn to hate had left a hollow in your chest you didn’t know how to fill? That he pretended you’d been nothing, while you were still haunted by every smile, every touch, every accidental moment of softness?
No. You’d carry it alone.
Even if it crushed you.
The hallway was quiet except for your footsteps. Head Girl duties had you out later than most, patrolling corridors, wand in hand. You rounded the corner — and froze.
Sunoo.
He leaned against the wall near the staircase, arms crossed, golden hair catching the flicker of torchlight. He looked like he’d been waiting.
Your chest seized, but you forced yourself to keep walking. You could pretend. Pretend you didn’t feel the ache in your ribs every time he ignored you. Pretend his laughter with Angie hadn’t shattered you. Pretend the tether hadn’t left you lonelier than before.
You stepped past him.
“You’re really not going to say anything?” His voice was low, tight, not calm like he wanted it to be.
You froze, shoulders stiff. Then you turned, jaw clenched. “What is there to say, Sunoo? That I was stupid enough to think any of it mattered? That the second we were free you went right back to pretending I’m nothing?”
Your voice cracked, but you swallowed hard, lifting your chin. “No. I’m done humiliating myself.”
You pivoted, steps quick, but before you could leave, his hand shot out and closed around your wrist.
The pull was sharp, desperate.
“Don’t,” he bit out. His voice shook. “Don’t just walk away from me. Be damn patient for once—it’s not easy for me.”
Your breath caught. He rarely let anything slip. But now, his eyes were wild, his chest rising and falling like the words were clawing their way out of him.
“You think I wanted this?” His voice rose, harsh, blaming. “You think I wanted to spend weeks chained to you, stuck hearing everything you said, feeling every emotion? I didn’t! I hated it! I—” He broke off, dragging a trembling hand through his hair.
“I thought it would end, and I’d go back to normal. That I wouldn’t have to…” His voice cracked. “…to feel you anymore.”
Tears stung your eyes, but you forced your voice steady. “And yet here we are. You’re still angry, Sunoo, so what’s changed?”
He laughed bitterly, sharp and raw. “Everything! That’s what’s changed!”
The words echoed, harsh and too loud in the quiet corridor. He pressed a hand to his chest, his golden hair falling messily into his face.
“I can’t stop,” he said, voice breaking. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I tried ignoring you, I tried pretending the tether twisted my head, but it wasn’t the tether—it was me. It’s still me.”
Your throat tightened, your whole body trembling.
His voice softened, frantic but quiet now, spilling unfiltered from his chest. “Four weeks ago, I could’ve sworn I hated you. But you—” His eyes lifted to yours, raw, shimmering. “You’re the only one who’s seen me. Not the bright, smiling Sunoo everyone thinks they know. You saw me when it was quiet. When I couldn’t keep the mask on. And now—” His voice cracked. “Now I don’t know how to live without you seeing me.”
Your lips parted, but no sound came.
He stepped closer, still clutching your wrist. “I want you, and it hurts. It keeps me up at night. And I don’t know why, but I can’t let you go.”
Before you could answer, his other hand cupped your jaw, pulling you toward him. His lips crashed against yours in a deep, desperate kiss, messy and trembling with everything he couldn’t say.
The kiss said it all. His anger. His longing. His surrender.
And when you kissed him back, all the bitterness burned away, leaving only the truth neither of you could deny anymore.
A week later, it felt like the castle had shifted. Not in stone or magic, but in you.
The tension was gone. The ache had loosened. What replaced it was something foreign but soft, like stepping into a new pair of shoes that fit just right.
You sat at the Hufflepuff table — your table now too, if the boys had any say — surrounded by the buzz of chatter and clinking plates. Sunoo was beside you, shoulders pressed close, animatedly telling Jake some ridiculous story with his hands.
“…and then he tried to charm the quill, but instead, it burst into flames!” Sunoo’s laugh rang out, his eyes crinkling as Jake nearly spit pumpkin juice across the table.
“Okay, but to be fair, you were the one who said it’d work—” Jake shot back, waving his fork.
Sunoo leaned back, smug, his grin brighter than the floating candles above. Jungwon shook his head, biting into a roll like he’d heard the story too many times.
The conversation rolled on without you — Jake needling Jungwon now, both of them bickering lightheartedly — while you ate in silence, content just to watch.
Then, under the table, Sunoo’s hand slipped into yours.
Your gaze snapped to him. He was still facing forward, cheeks faintly pink, glossy-eyed in the candlelight. When he finally looked at you, his smile was small, private.
“You’re staring,” he teased softly, lips quirking.
“Am not,” you muttered, but your face warmed instantly.
“Yes, you are,” he said, squeezing your hand gently before leaning in. His whisper brushed against your cheek. “Lucky me.”
Before you could roll your eyes or fire back a quip, he kissed your cheek. Quick, soft, shameless.
Jake gagged immediately, clutching his chest. “Merlin, not at the table! Some of us are trying to eat.”
You barked a laugh, grabbed the nearest Brussels sprout from your plate, and chucked it straight at him. It bounced off his robes, leaving a green smear.
The whole table erupted — Jungwon choking on his juice, Sunoo burying his face in his sleeve from laughing so hard, Jake threatening revenge while trying not to grin.
You sat there in the middle of it all, hand still snug in Sunoo’s, cheeks aching from smiling.
Yeah. This felt right.
You exhaled, quiet and grateful, and whispered a thanks to whatever Cupid decided to trip you up that night. The spell that bound you, the chaos it caused — it hadn’t been a curse at all.
It had been the start of this.
Happy Fictober! Hope you enjoyed it! Like, Comment, and Reblog.
i saw on twt that op once asked k who's a good drinker between him and the other hyung line.
apparently fuma is the best and juju can also handle his liquor so well, that his face doesn't even turn red when he drinks while nicho's the worst of them all 😭
now i can imagine a clingy nicho towards his girlfriend when he's drunk after drinking with teamies, clinging to her like a koala and kissing her every second as he tells her i love you for the nth time
(also, new anonnie! love your work, keep up the great job! 😚😚)
- 🌷
hiii beautiful anon 🌷(fun fact but tulips are my fav flowers)
oh my god. as a clingy drunk girlfriend i’m literally dying over this, specially because nicho gives me soft touchy boyfriend vibes soooo much!!
Nicho as a drunk boyfriend. ♡̫ㅤ۠ ⭒
content: fluff !! drinking, skinship, lots of kisses, pouty nicho !! lots of touching
Nicholas loved you so much, like so, so much. He was a lost man, completely in love with you.
Normally, he was very sweet, always kissing you and complimenting you and being a cute boyfriend, he didn’t mind when the other bandmates teased him about it telling him he was such a simp. He was, but you loved that about him.
You didn’t drink too much, it just wasn’t your thing. So when he invited you to hang out in the dorms with the guys to have a videogame drinking night, you would just lay on the couch laughing at their jokes and enjoying the light air of the night decorated by their chuckles and teasing.
Nicho got too excited around his friends, and they were really good at handling alcohol, so after a lot of shots and glasses of Sake and Whisky, he would be already tipsy. You would notice by the way his eyes rested lazily, looking extra little and making him look so cute, his cheeks red, flushed thanks to the effects of the drinks in his system. He would become extra smiley, until his face would literally hurt because he couldn’t stop smirking and laughing. His childish like personality would come to light, that extroverted side that he didn’t show up very often.
And he would become, super, super touchy.
Sitting by your side, he would first rest his head on your shoulder, hugging you by your waist to bring you closer to him, wanting to feel the warmth of your body against him, like a man starving in a cold night. He would look at you through his pretty eyelashes, fluttering them, and you would chuckle, rolling your eyes with affection.
“You look so pretty tonight, princess.” His voice would sound a bit weak, his words slurred because of his state, his tongue tangled, and you would smile and hug him too, because it would be the 10th time he told you that. “Don’t make fun of me” He would pout, his plump, red, glistening lips.
“I’m not, baby, you’re just so cute.” You would smile at him, stealing a little peck on his puffy lips.
And he would close his eyes, pouting again.
“Mooooooooore.”
So he’d ask for hundreds of kisses, and of course, you would give him what he wanted, because you couldn’t say no when he was being so adorable and touch starved.
“Mmmm, so sweet.” He would whisper between kisses, his breath smelling like alcohol and mint, because he had the habit of chewing into bubblegum when drinking.
Sometimes, when you had to get up for going to the bathroom or get a glass of water, he would follow you like a puppy, tripping onto something and bumping his head on a wall, because he was that clumsy when drunk.
“Babyyy, don’t leave me alone”. Pouting again.
He would grab you by your hips, making you sit on his lap at one point and kissing the curve of your shoulders, wet, soft, slow, breathing heavily against your skin and telling you how much he loved your smell. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, intertwining your fingers and placing kisses on your hand too. Sometimes he would slid his hands underneath your shirt, just feeling your soft, hot skin, tracing circles and lines along your torso. Other times he would do the same in the skin of your thighs, just doing anything to keep touching you.
He would start yapping, like non stop talking to the whole group about how much he loved you, how you were the woman of his life, that he wanted to be with you forever, and the boys would chuckle and roll their eyes because this was an every time thing.
When it was time to go to bed, he would fall onto the bed, full of clothes, and he would squirm and pout like a little kid.
“Head hurts, help me baby pleeeeease.”
And you would chuckle again, helping him get rid of his shoes and clothes because poor thing would be too drunk to even do it for himself. Then he would spread his arms, and you would catch the message, laying by his side, warm bodies against each other, him kissing you a lot of times again, whispering how much he loved you, begging you to please never leave him.
When he was hangover, he would ask you to please stay in bed all day with him, lazy sundays just cuddling and kissing and naps, so cozy, so safe. His head resting on your chest, his leg across your waist, clinged onto you like a koala, sleeping peacefully until the headache went away. You would caress his beautiful hair, ocasionally placing kisses on his forehead and cheeks, lazily scrolling through your phone, getting up from bed only to get him some soup and gatorade.
He loved when you took care of him, because even if most of the times it was the other way around, he liked allowing himself to become a baby in your arms.
note : most of these are before you and the members start dating ! i need to work on my intros for each members they get kinda repetitive but this scenario was so fun to work on ! i tried to make the younger members ones more cotton candy sweet :)
K :
K liked to think of himself as a composed and confident person. He was used to keeping his emotions in check, never one to be overly flustered or obvious about his feelings. But when it came to you, that composure was long gone.
He was so down bad for you, and the worst part? He wasn’t even subtle about it.
You could ask him for literally anything, and he’d do it without hesitation. Need his jacket? It’s already around your shoulders before you even finish your sentence. Want food? He’s buying whatever you like, no questions asked. You casually mention liking a certain song? It’s suddenly at the top of his playlist, and he might have memorized the lyrics just in case you ever bring it up again.
The teasing from the other members was relentless.
“K, do you realize you stare at them like they hung the moon?” Fuma pointed out one day, catching him red-handed as he zoned out while watching you talk.
K blinked, quickly looking away, trying to play it off. “I do not.”
Nicholas snorted. “Bro, you do. It’s embarrassing.”
But nothing was more embarrassing than when you unknowingly made it worse. Like when you flashed him that bright, happy smile, or when you casually touched his arm while laughing at one of his jokes. Every single time, his heart betrayed him, beating so fast it was ridiculous.
The biggest down bad moment, though? The time you absentmindedly called him cute.
“You’re kinda cute when you concentrate,” you had mused, watching him frown in focus while trying to fix something on his phone. You said it so casually, not thinking much of it, but K? Oh, he short-circuited.
He sat there, phone forgotten in his hands, staring at you like you had just told him the deepest secret of the universe. His ears turned red, and for the first time, he had no idea how to respond.
“Uh…” His brain scrambled for words, but they simply didn’t come.
You just laughed at his reaction, completely unaware of the absolute meltdown you had just caused in his head.
At this point, everyone—including the members—knew K was head over heels for you. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever work up the courage to confess, but one thing was certain: if you asked for the world, he’d find a way to give it to you.
FUMA :
Fuma liked to think he had a decent amount of self-control. He was calm, collected, the dad of the group—he wasn’t the type to get flustered easily.
Except when you’re around.
He was so smitten for you, and he knew it. The members knew it. You, however? Completely oblivious.
Fuma had a habit of spoiling you without even realizing it. If you so much as looked at something for too long, he was already making a mental note to get it for you later. You mentioned craving a certain snack? He’d somehow have it with him the next time you saw him. One time, you casually said you were cold, and before you could even register what was happening, Fuma was draping his jacket over your shoulders like it was second nature.
“You’re gonna spoil them,” Yuma teased, watching Fuma hand you your favorite drink—one he went way out of his way to get.
Fuma shrugged, like it was no big deal. “They deserve it.”
If that wasn’t down bad enough, the way he looked at you definitely was. He had this soft, almost fond gaze whenever you spoke, like he was memorizing every little detail about you. The way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved? The way you absentmindedly played with your hands when you were thinking? He noticed everything.
And then, of course, there were the moments where you unknowingly made it worse.
Like that one time you leaned against him while laughing, your head resting on his shoulder for just a second too long. He barely managed to keep his cool, but the other members? Oh, they noticed.
Nicholas smirked. “You good, man?”
Fuma cleared his throat, forcing himself to act normal. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
The truth? His brain was screaming.
But the moment that really took him out was the time you casually ran your fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his face while laughing at something dumb he said. You did it so naturally, like it was nothing, but Fuma? He froze.
“Your hair’s soft,” you had mused, completely unaware that he was actively trying not to combust on the spot.
From that day on, Fuma knew one thing for sure: if you ever asked him for the moon, he’d find a way to give it to you.
NICHOLAS :
Nicholas prided himself on being cool and composed, but when it came to you? Yeah, no. All logic went out the window. He was so obviously in love with you, it was almost painful to watch.
It started with the way he hovered around you. He was always nearby—never in an overbearing way, but enough that the members started pointing it out. If you moved, somehow Nicholas just ended up next to you. If you needed something, he was already handing it to you before you even asked. It was almost instinctual at this point.
“Nicholas, you do realize they have hands, right?” EJ teased after watching him open your drink for you.
Nicholas just shrugged, like it was no big deal. But the truth? He lived for those little moments. Any excuse to be close to you.
And then there was the staring. Oh, the staring.
He wasn’t even subtle about it. You’d be talking, completely in your own world, and Nicholas would be watching you with the softest, most lovestruck expression—like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.
The other members definitely noticed.
“Dude, blink,” Yuma muttered, nudging him when he caught Nicholas gazing at you again.
Nicholas snapped out of it, pretending he wasn’t just caught, but the smirk on Yuma’s face said otherwise.
You were completely oblivious to all of this.
Like that one time you playfully messed with his hair, ruffling it before grinning up at him. “You look cute like this.”
Nicholas blacked out.
His brain completely short-circuited, and all he could do was stare at you, mouth slightly open, while his soul ascended. Meanwhile, K, who had definitely witnessed the whole thing, was wheezing in the background.
And don’t even get started on the time you borrowed his hoodie because you were cold. You hadn’t even asked—just grabbed it off the couch and pulled it on like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Nicholas nearly malfunctioned.
“You—you can keep it,” he blurted out, voice slightly higher than usual.
You tilted your head. “Huh? But it’s yours.”
“It’s fine. Looks better on you anyway,” he muttered, pretending to be unbothered while actively fighting for his life.
Yeah. Nicholas was down bad, and at this rate, the only thing worse than his obvious crush was the fact that you still weren’t getting the hint.
EJ :
EJ wasn’t the type to wear his heart on his sleeve—at least, not this obviously.
It started with how attentive he was. He always seemed to notice the little things—if you liked a certain snack, he’d somehow have it on hand. If you were tired, he’d quietly adjust his pace to match yours. And if you so much as shivered, his jacket was already draped over your shoulders before you could even register the cold.
At first, you chalked it up to him just being considerate. EJ was naturally kind, after all. But the others? They knew better.
“Dude, just admit it,” K sighed one day as he watched EJ carefully set aside the last slice of cake for you.
EJ blinked, feigning innocence. “What?”
“You literally cut it perfectly and put it on a separate plate for them,” Nicholas deadpanned. “If that’s not down bad behavior, I don’t know what is.”
But nothing exposed him more than the hoodie incident.
One evening, you grabbed his hoodie off the couch, pulling it on without a second thought. “Hope you don’t mind,” you said, giving him a little smile as you adjusted the sleeves.
EJ forgot how to breathe.
Mind? Mind?! You were standing there, looking ridiculously good in his hoodie, and you were asking if he minded?
“You can keep it,” he blurted out, way too fast.
You blinked. “Wait, really?”
He nodded, trying to act cool despite the warmth creeping up his neck. “Yeah. Looks better on you anyway.”
Fuma nearly choked on his drink from how shameless that was. Meanwhile, Taki was staring in open disbelief.
At this point, everyone was just waiting for you to catch on. Because EJ? Yeah, he was too far gone.
YUMA :
Yuma liked to think he was subtle, that his feelings for you weren’t that obvious. But anyone with eyes—literally, anyone—could tell he was completely, hopelessly down bad.
It wasn’t even like he was trying to be obvious. It just happened. His feet automatically carried him to wherever you were, his hands moved before he could think to help you with the smallest things, and his brain? Completely shut down whenever you gave him even the slightest bit of attention.
“Yuma, are you even paying attention?”
Your voice snapped him out of his trance. You had been saying something—probably something important—but all he had been doing was staring at you, completely lost in his own world.
“Huh?” he blinked, trying to recover. “Yeah, totally.”
“You were staring again,” Harua snickered from beside him.
Yuma immediately kicked him under the table. “Shut up.”
And then there was the art museum incident.
You had offhandedly mentioned wanting to go, so naturally, Yuma casually suggested making a day out of it. But the second you stepped into the gallery, he realized his mistake. Because you? You looked way too pretty admiring the paintings, eyes full of wonder as you took everything in.
“Do you like this one?” you asked, pointing at a piece.
Yuma was about to respond, but then you turned to look at him, tilting your head just slightly—and suddenly, he forgot how words worked.
“It’s… yeah,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nice.”
Nice? This was a work of historical significance, and that was the best he could come up with?
Meanwhile, Nicholas, who had been third-wheeling the entire trip, just sighed. “Dude, you’re so gone.”
Yuma knew that. And yet, every time you looked at him like that, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
JO :
Jo liked to think he was good at keeping his emotions in check. He wasn’t the type to wear his feelings on his sleeve—at least, that’s what he told himself. But everyone around him could see the way he completely melted whenever you were around.
It wasn’t just the way he stared at you like you hung the stars in the sky—it was the way he acted. The way he automatically saved a seat next to him no matter where you were. The way he’d subtly pass you the last piece of whatever you were eating together, pretending he wasn’t starving just so you could have it. The way he would get completely and utterly useless the second you did something even remotely affectionate.
Like now.
“Jo, can you hold this for me?” you asked, handing him something without a second thought.
Big mistake.
Because the second your fingers brushed against his, Jo felt his entire body malfunction. His brain short-circuited, his ears turned red, and suddenly, he forgot how to breathe.
“Jo?”
No response.
“Jo, are you okay?”
Still nothing.
Nicholas, watching from the side, sighed dramatically. “Yeah, he’s gone.”
And then there was the time you casually called him cute.
“You’re so cute, Jo,” you had laughed, nudging his arm.
Jo immediately stopped functioning. Like, physically froze on the spot. His soul might have left his body for a second.
“Cute?” he echoed, blinking rapidly as if his brain needed a reboot.
“Yeah,” you grinned. “It’s adorable how you always take care of me.”
At that moment, Jo had to actively fight for his life not to melt into a puddle on the floor. He turned away, covering his face with his sleeve, hoping you wouldn’t see just how red he had gotten.
“I—uh—thank you,” he mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.
Meanwhile, Taki, who had been watching the whole thing unfold, snickered. “Bro, you are down horrendous.”
And honestly? Jo couldn’t even deny it.
HARUA :
Harua had always been a little shy about his feelings, but it was so obvious that he was completely smitten with you. His eyes would light up whenever you entered a room, and you could practically feel the weight of his gaze when he thought you weren’t looking. He would try to act all cool and collected, but you could see through his little act.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said one day, almost bashfully, when you caught him staring at you from across the room. He quickly turned his face away, but you could see the tips of his ears turning pink.
“Like what?” you asked innocently, enjoying how he got flustered.
“You know… like I’m the most interesting thing in the world,” he mumbled under his breath. He couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking his head in disbelief. He knew he wasn’t hiding his feelings very well, but he didn’t care. You made him feel things he’d never felt before.
It wasn’t long before Harua started finding every excuse to be close to you, always lingering near you during group activities. He loved the way your laughter would fill the room and the way your presence made everything feel a little bit warmer. Even though he was a bit shy, he never wanted to leave your side. He would even playfully complain about it, but you could tell it was because he couldn’t stand being apart from you for too long.
“You really like me, don’t you?” you teased him one day, when he was once again standing a little too close.
“Is it that obvious?” he laughed nervously, brushing his hand through his hair. You could see the nervous smile on his face. “I guess I can’t hide it anymore.”
You smiled softly, enjoying the way his usual composed nature melted away around you.
Harua didn’t need to say much. His actions spoke louder than words. His lingering gaze, the way he was always looking for ways to help you, and the way he never wanted to be far from you were all clear indicators of just how much he adored you.
TAKI :
Taki had never been subtle when it came to you, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try to hide it. It was just impossible for him to keep it together when you were around. If there was one thing that was undeniably clear, it was that he was totally down bad for you, and he didn’t even try to hide it.
Whether it was in rehearsals or when the group was just hanging out, Taki was constantly looking for little ways to get your attention. It could be as simple as making sure you had a snack when you were a little hungry, or making a joke to make you laugh—whatever it took to make you smile.
One day, during a break between practice, you were all gathered around chatting. Taki had this soft, almost dreamy look on his face as he watched you talk with the others. But as soon as you turned to look his way, his expression snapped to one of sheer flustered panic.
“Are you okay, Taki?” you asked, catching him staring.
His eyes went wide, and his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. “H-huh? Me? Of course! I was just… thinking about something important,” he stammered, but it was clear to everyone that his “important” thoughts had nothing to do with anything other than you. He cleared his throat awkwardly, avoiding eye contact and pretending to focus on anything other than you.
But his little habit didn’t go unnoticed. When you got up to stretch, Taki was quick to move closer, making sure he was always within arm’s reach—like he needed to be near you. He’d “accidentally” bump into you, offering you a nervous smile when he did. It was so obvious to everyone else, but Taki? He was just doing his best to stay composed, even though his feelings were practically written all over his face.
Later, when you asked him to help you with something minor—like holding your water bottle for a moment—Taki’s hands nearly shook as he took it from you. “Of course! Anything for you!” His voice was a little too eager, and he immediately regretted sounding so desperate, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“Thanks, Taki,” you smiled, completely unaware of how flustered you were making him. But for Taki, it was moments like these that made him feel like he was on cloud nine.
No matter how hard he tried to play it cool, his heart would skip a beat whenever you were around. Every time you smiled at him, or every time your hand brushed against his by accident, he could feel his feelings grow even more. It wasn’t just a little crush anymore—he was completely and utterly down bad for you.
And even though he was a little embarrassed, Taki didn’t mind one bit. As long as he could be near you, as long as you were happy, he was the happiest he’d ever been.
MAKI :
Maki always thought he was good at keeping his emotions in check. But then you came along, and suddenly, everything changed. He tried to stay cool, pretending to be his usual laid-back self, but the way you looked at him, talked to him, made his heart race in ways he couldn’t control.
At first, he tried to brush it off. He’d tell himself, “It’s fine, just don’t let it show,” but it was getting harder every day. He was down bad, and he knew it.
When you walked into the room, Maki’s attention would immediately snap to you. His smile would widen, and even though he tried to act casual, his heart would skip a beat. It was as if the entire room could disappear, and it would just be you and him.
One day, while everyone else was chatting about something, Maki found himself zoning out, his eyes trained on you. The way your lips curved when you smiled, the way your eyes sparkled with that quiet intensity—it drove him absolutely crazy. He tried to stay focused on the conversation, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you.
You caught his stare, and for a moment, you just looked at him, confused but also amused. “Maki,” you said, snapping him out of his trance, “you’re not even listening, are you?”
He blinked, a little flustered, but tried to play it off with a half-smile. “Of course I’m listening,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “Just… thinking about how great everything is going.” But his voice cracked, and he cursed himself inwardly for it.
You raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but Maki could feel the heat rushing to his face. He couldn’t figure out how to act normal around you anymore—everything was different. The way you made him feel was so intense, it almost overwhelmed him.
Later, when you and Maki were walking together, you casually mentioned wanting to grab some food. “I think I’ll grab something from that cafe down the street later. You want to come?”
Maki’s stomach flipped. He knew it wasn’t anything more than a casual invitation, but the thought of spending time alone with you made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. “Yeah, sure. I’ll come,” he replied, trying to act like it was no big deal, but his heart was already racing at the idea of just the two of you being together.
As the day went on, Maki found himself stumbling over his words more often, trying not to stare at you every chance he got. He’d tell himself, “You’ve got to be cool. You’ve got to be chill,” but his body just didn’t listen. Every time you laughed, every time your hand brushed his by accident, he felt like he was losing control.
When you both sat down for your meal, Maki tried his best to keep the conversation light. But every time you looked at him with that warm smile, his thoughts completely derailed. “You’re really cute when you’re not acting all serious,” you teased him at one point.
Maki felt his face heat up. “I’m not serious! Just… focus on eating,” he stammered, trying to brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal. But inside? He was a mess. He was so down bad, and he knew it was only a matter of time before you figured it out. Until then, though, he’d keep trying his best to act like he wasn’t completely and utterly in love with you.
omg hiiii hiiii can i request kisses with &team headcanons? have a good day :3
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪&team hyung line + kisses ⌒☆
pairing ⌒☆ &team hyung line x reader
word count ⌒☆ seven in the morning
note ⌒☆ hi anon! sorry for the super late reply... ive been insane lately. i am only doing hyung line for this because 1. im lazy & 2. i dont really write stuff like this for the middle n younger members. regardless this was fun to write!
k ⌒☆
always has stars in his eyes, but they shine 10x brighter when u two kiss. contrary to popular belief, i think that k is a very soft kisser. hes aware of how plump his lips are & he uses them very carefully, making sure not to over do it. although hes a soft kisser, his hand placement is a lot more intimate & intense : hands on hips, behind ur neck... it never gets too crazy though! thats only if u ask him ofc. every single time after u two pull away from each other after a little session, u both feel so light & airy... blush covering both of ur faces like u just took shots of alcohol. & as much as k tries to hide it, u know that on the inside hes giggling like a little girl because all he can do is smile & look at u after. he also uses small lil kisses as a way to get ur attention & itll work every time. neck kisses is also something he really enjoys, but he tries not to because i think itll make him go insane. bonus : cheek nuzzles after :>
fuma ⌒☆
every single one of his kisses is full of so much love & sincerity... when fuma kisses u its like... he casted the power of a thousand suns & hundreds of body guards on u. in other words... his kisses make u feel very safe & warm. this man loves giving forehead kisses & he will give one to u no matter the situation. when he wakes up earlier than u BOOM forehead kiss, while ur doing work BOOM forehead kiss, while ur playing games BOOM forehead kiss. the list goes on. loves holding u super close against him, especially when its back hugs. his arms wrapped around ur body while his chin is resting on either ur shoulder or ur head ( if ur short enough ). & from there he gives u sweet little neck or jaw kisses. dont forget to give him kisses though! he loves it when u place ur hands on his shoulders to lean into him. bonus: 100% tucks ur hair behind ur hair n just... looks at u
nicholas ⌒☆
'u look so pretty' is what he says almost all of the time in between kisses & ofc he always 100% means it. his comments sometimes become a little silly & teasing like 'ur lips are softer today' 'new chapstick?' & u two will share a sweet laugh with both of ur lips glistening from the earlier session. hes definitely placing his hands around the back of ur neck, small of ur back, waist, hips... he just needs his hands on u honestly. but his favorite placement will always be ur jaw... the way he holds ur face so lightly & how deeply he kisses... ur addicted! ur guys sessions are either very heated or very lighthearted, no in between. nico gets pretty clingy after a makeout session, holding u super tight against him because he doesnt want u to leave. & when u have to go off to do ur duties, he goes back into the crook of ur neck & leaves soft kisses everywhere... so now u really cant leave. whenever he wants a kiss from u he taps his cheek n raises his eyebrow with his signature :} smile n lets out a 'thank uuuu~' after u leave a kiss. bonus: loves placing his hands on the sides of ur face to squish ur cheeks together so u look like .3.
euijoo ⌒☆
so soft & gentle like a warm, fuzzy blanket. its common knowledge that he definitely smiles into kisses. extremely soft pecks on ur lips & after each one he has a little :] printed on his face. i also think he keeps his eyes Slightly open.. not in a weird, off putting way, but in a 'i really want to see u while i kiss u but ik its weird so im going to squint' way. eventually, he will close them fully when u two intertwine ur fingers together. hes still very shy when it comes to this, hence why the small little pecks, but to him quantity > because he will leave about a hundred all over ur face & neck. euijoo loves giving u kisses, especially when u two hug each other. u go in for a big hug... he pulls back a bit to look at u... smiles... then goes in for kisses. he really cant get used to ur kisses because after each time u two share even the smallest kiss, he smiles So hard ur scared that he will get stuck like that forever. sometimes he becomes overly conscious of how much he kisses u & worries that it might be too much, but it never is when it comes to him. bonus: lets out a big sigh of content after like 'aaaah'
Kisses and Confessions Ft. Doberman Hybrid!Nicholas
A/n: I kinda felt like a confession and kiss scene would pair up well with what has been happening in the previous doberman hybrid series 😳
Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, romance, fantasy au
Pairings: Doberman Hybrid!Nicholas x Named reader (not mentioned)
Warnings: Nothing really crazy except a bold Nicholas.
She had noticed it more often lately—Nicholas zoning out, lost in thought, or simply staring at her without realizing it. At first, she brushed it off, but now, as she sat on the floor folding laundry, she felt his gaze on her again.
Sighing, she placed the clothes aside and shifted to sit in front of the couch. Nicholas was sprawled across it, head resting on the armrest, still watching her. She reached up, cupping his jaw gently.
"You alright? You've been zoning out a lot."
Nicholas blinked, as if coming back to reality, before his head naturally tilted into her palm. "It's nothing."
She frowned. "It isn't nothing. You keep getting lost in thought all the time. What's going on?"
With a groan, Nicholas suddenly slumped off the couch, sliding to the floor before resting his head on her lap. His warm weight was comforting, familiar. His ears twitched slightly as he muttered, "Fine. I was just thinking about whether you still like me or not."
Her fingers instinctively combed through his dark hair, brushing along the sensitive spot behind his ears. "What are you on about? You're my favorite person."
She pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, expecting it to reassure him. But instead of being soothed, Nicholas let out a huff and gave her a pointed look.
"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about."
She blinked. "What do you mean?"
Nicholas shifted, still resting against her, golden eyes studying her expression. "Why don’t you kiss me on the lips? Am I not your favorite?"
Her heart stuttered. Heat rushed to her cheeks. "What—no… wait. Where is this coming from?"
His tail flicked once behind him. "I was watching a movie the other day, and the people in it kissed on the lips. I looked it up, and it said people do that when they love someone. When they’re attracted to them." His voice softened. "You never do that with me. Do you… not love me?"
Her breath hitched. "Of course I love you!"
"Then why don't you kiss me like that?" His question was quiet but firm, his head still resting on her lap, expectant.
She swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how close he was. "Well... kisses on the lips are reserved for couples. Those who are in love, dating!"
Nicholas didn’t move for a moment, then his ears perked slightly. "So if we were dating, you'd kiss me like that?"
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. He was staring at her, his expression unreadable, but his tail had stilled.
Her heart pounded. "That's… usually how it works. When two people are together, they share things differently. More intimately. Love between lovers is… deeper. It’s wanting to be with them in every way, feeling drawn to them, wanting to touch them, kiss them, just because you can't help it." She faltered, realization creeping up on her as she said the words aloud.
Nicholas hummed, seemingly satisfied with her answer, but she barely heard him. Her own words echoed in her head, her breath catching.
Wanting to be with them in every way. Feeling drawn to them. Wanting to touch them.
Her fingers trembled slightly as they traced along his hairline. Oh, crap.
Nicholas let out a low whine, pressing his face further into her lap, arms wrapping loosely around her waist. "That sounds stupid. If I’m your favorite, I should get kisses."
She let out a weak laugh, trying to mask the turmoil building inside her. "You're impossible."
"Still waiting for my kiss, though," he mumbled against her stomach, tail flicking lazily.
She was in trouble. Because now, she actually wanted to.
"Only people who have feelings for each other kiss like that," she finally muttered.
Nicholas immediately sat up, ears perked, golden eyes sharp. "I literally do have feelings for you! I love you a lot too!"
She groaned, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. "It doesn’t work like that."
His tail flicked in frustration. "Why not?"
"Because… the love between us isn’t—"
"You just said you loved me!" he interrupted, eyes narrowed.
"I do love you!"
"Then why don’t you kiss my lips?!"
She opened her mouth to argue but stopped. Her brain scrambled for a reason, for anything that would make sense, but nothing came.
She should have had an answer.
They weren’t lovers. So why couldn’t she say why?
Nicholas waited, ears twitching, expectant.
Taking a deep breath, she tried again. "Love between lovers is different from the love we have, Nicholas. Friends love each other too, but lovers… they're in love with each other. They want to be together in every way, as partners. They want to build a life together, get married someday. It’s a different kind of love—deeper, more… consuming."
She hesitated, watching his expression. His brows furrowed slightly, his lips pressed together in thought. His tail, which had been flicking in frustration, now lay still behind him.
Seconds passed in silence before his ears twitched again. Then his golden eyes widened slightly, his mouth parting as if he had just figured something out.
He stayed quiet for a moment longer before finally murmuring, "Oh."
She blinked. "Oh?"
Nicholas slowly sat up straighter, his hands resting on his knees as he processed her words. Then, with a slow, dawning realization, he muttered again, "Oh."
She raised a brow. "Are you just gonna keep saying ‘oh’?"
His gaze flicked to hers, something unreadable in his expression. Then he frowned, deep in thought. "So... that means… the way I feel about you is that kind of love."
Her breath caught. "What?"
Nicholas huffed, looking a little frustrated with himself. "I mean—I do want to be with you. All the time. I want you to look at me the way you looked in that movie when the couple kissed. I want to be next to you always. I don’t like it when you focus on anyone else. And when you’re away, I feel weird. Kinda… restless." He scratched his head. "And I like touching you. A lot. Like, all the time. I don’t want anyone else to do that. Just me. And I want you to do it too. And now you’re saying that means I…"
His voice trailed off as the final piece clicked into place.
His ears drooped slightly, as if he was overwhelmed. "Oh."
She swallowed hard, her own heart racing now. "Nicholas…"
His gaze met hers, burning with quiet certainty now. "I think I love you like that."
She couldn’t breathe.
And worse—she wasn’t sure if she wanted to stop him.
Her breath caught in her throat, unsure of what to say. "That... that can’t be—"
She began rambling, her words coming out faster and more flustered the longer she tried to process his confession. "I mean, we’re friends... and... this is... this is so... confusing, I’m not sure—"
Everything became quiet to him. The sight of her rambling, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, her lips parted in confusion, made him feel an overwhelming rush of affection for her. She was especially beautiful in this moment.
But his ears twitched, irritation beginning to settle in from the endless stream of words spilling from her mouth.
He could feel his patience wearing thin.
So, he cupped her cheek gently and turned her face toward his, silencing her with a kiss.
He pressed his lips closer, feeling the warmth of her mouth as she slowly melted into the kiss. It felt nice. Perfect. Really right. His heart pounded when he felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him in unconsciously. Encouraged, he shifted slightly, adjusting to be more comfortable while savoring the feeling of her against him.
When they finally broke apart to breathe, she turned a shade redder, eyes wide as she started rambling.
"That—that wasn’t supposed to happen! I mean, we weren’t—this isn’t—" She took a shaky breath, flustered. "Nicholas, we can’t just—"
His ears twitched in irritation. He didn’t want to hear her reasoning, not when he already knew what felt right.
So he shut her up with another kiss.
A small, surprised gasp escaped her, but this time, her hands found their way around his neck again anyway, pulling him in just like before. It made something in his chest tighten with satisfaction.
He remembered how lovers kissed in movies and how they moved their lips against each other. So he decided to try it. Gently, he tilted his head, pressing in a little more as he tentatively moved his lips against hers.
The moment she responded, the sensation deepened, something warm and electric sparking between them.
"Mm—!" she let out a muffled sound of protest before sinking into it. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring herself. He dared to peek at her, only to see her eyes flutter shut, surrendering to the kiss. The sight sent a shiver down his spine, making his own eyes close as he let himself get lost in the feeling of her.
When they finally broke apart, she was silent.
He peered at her, searching her expression, before reaching out and pulling her into a hug. His arms wrapped securely around her, holding her close as he buried his face against her shoulder.
Softly, he whispered into her ear, "I love you. I adore you. Every part of you."
His voice was warm, sincere, carrying the depth of emotions he had only just begun to understand. His hold on her tightened slightly, as if afraid she might pull away, but she didn’t. Instead, she stayed still in his embrace, her heart pounding against his own.
any nicholas fluff thoughts pls 🥺 ppl often depict him as some kind of tsundere bc of his looks but he's actually such a sweetheart and the members have said he's a genuinely kind and caring person. he said he even tried smiling more growing up so that people wouldn't find him so intimidating oh i want to protect him with my life 😭
delulu thoughts | nico
╰┈ ⋆｡˚ 🪼genre: fluff!!
╰┈ ⋆｡˚ 🪼author’s note: i agree nonnie 🫶🏼 he deserves the world!! anyways, i hope you enjoy this love :(( hehee i giggled while writing this 🤭
🫧laur’s taglist: @chiiyuuvv @kehnarii
⋆⑅˚₊ the type of bf to have a small smile as he watches you work! or just the look of love when he sees you do anything :((
⋆⑅˚₊ plays piano for you and sometimes puts on music as he takes your hands, leading you in a slow dance in the living room (stop he would do this idc)
⋆⑅˚₊ the type to pout but smile when you call him cute!! he knows that he can come off with the vibes of "big scary dog" but like most big dogs, he's a total softie 🥹
⋆⑅˚₊ strikes me as the type to pick you up randomly and just give you big hugs!! he gets all smiley while hugging you too :((
⋆⑅˚₊ when you feel sad, he's by your side in a comfortable silence as he gives you a reassuring look 🫶🏼 words aren’t always necessary when his eyes speak a thousand words to you
⋆⑅˚₊ “why did you do that?” and “because i care” type of relationship!! he cares so much about you that he always remembers the tiniest details about you :((
⋆⑅˚₊ he’d take you on really cute dates and a lot of them are pure fun!! would buy the matching souvenirs and play games for you so he can win you the biggest prize 😌
⋆⑅˚₊ the type to always reach for your hand!! he just loves knowing that you’re his makes him feel like he saved a world in his past life🥹🫶🏼
⋆⑅˚₊ loves it when you play with his hair and let him lay down on your lap :((( it’s so comforting to him, especially after a long day in the practice room
⋆⑅˚₊ when you dress up together for a fancy occasion and you tell him that everyone's staring at him because he looks so handsome, he replies, "no love, they're staring at you." (argh stop i'm giggling even thinking about this) 🤭
⋆⑅˚₊ the type of romance that you only read about and used to dream of having! he entered your life and made you believe in true love :( the way he puts you first no matter what too :(( please it's so incredibly sweet
⋆⑅˚₊ his friends most definitely tease him when they catch him staring at you so lovingly, saying things like, "nico, when are you going to propose??" and he just stops. he secretly knows that you're definitely the one for him.
⋆⑅˚₊ often asks you why you love him because he fears that his intimidating looks might cause you to leave one day, but you always reassure him 🥹 you love him for who he is and that he has the most genuine soul and a pure heart :((
⋆⑅˚₊ he regales you with stories of his childhood and his time on i-land as you listen to each and every tale!! and then asks about your childhood while he's giggling at every word you say 😭 (he's so cute pls)
⋆⑅˚₊ KARAOKE DATES!!! hear me out when i say that he loves nostalgia and fun like...the carefree vibes! when you start dancing while singing off-key, he bursts out laughing, and at this point, both of you are just enjoying the vibes 😭😌
⋆⑅˚₊ when you're sad, he's holding you tight and letting you cry on his shirt! he's willing to listen if you want to and he holds your hands to reassure you that he's not going anywhere! through thick and thin, he'll be by your side 🫶🏼 (he gives forehead kisses too)
⋆⑅˚₊ overall, a green flag!! he's a gentleman and kind-hearted so please don't ever break his heart <3
very attentive, always knows when you need something or want something
won’t hesitate to get you whatever you want
loves buying you pretty trinkets, just random little treasures he sees when he’s wandering
soooo teasing like he will not stop once he started
and if you do something embarrassing, whew he’s not gonna let go of that for weeks
scary af when he’s jealous! he’ll pretend not to care but he gets so angry
offers to teach you how to play basketball
laughs when you miss the basket :(
cuddles 24/7. literally this man is a cuddle monster
he has to be the big spoon (duh)
always touching you. always back hugging, petting your head, rubbing your arms. if you’re at the dinner table he’s holding your hand and eating at the same time
the other boys complain about your pda :P
gets insanely offended when you don’t say I love you back to him
offers you his hoodie every time you go out. bro will be red in the face, nose running and still offer you his jacket bc “he’s not cold”
hella athletic and always asks you to work out with him. he’ll insist even if you say no
crazy competitive but will let you win every time
traces little spirals and hearts on the back of your hand when he’s bored
if anyone’s bothering you or hitting on you, dear god they better watch out
he is literally terrifying he will knock them out with just a glare
always makes the first move. he thinks it’s really cute when you try to tho
loves when you scratch his head. he will deadass fall asleep in public if you do it
scrolls through pics of you when he’s away at work or with the boys. he has a whole album and everything
if someone catches him he’ll yell and deny it until he turns red
slaps your ass in public ._.
goes absolutely feral when he smells your perfume. buries his face into your neck when he hugs you from behind
possibly even buys a bottle for himself so he can smell it when he misses you :(
loves catching you off guard and getting you flustered. he’ll wink at you when he catches you staring just so he can see you blush
“I have a crush on you.” “nicho we’ve been dating for a year.”
a/n note: I loved making the nicho bf texts so I wanted to do some more content for him!! ik this isn’t an extended project but &team readers are soooo rare so I didn’t know if u guys would read an actual fic 💔 lmk if you would in the comments!!! also drop any writing idea recs I’ve had writers block lately <3
genre fluff , headcanons , parent au , &team hyung line (plus yuma) x fem!reader (implied marriage for all hcs) cw food mention , toddler/baby stuff , yuma's child is incredibly sassy , not proofread wc 1170 request no note cien did this to me he put these thoughts in my head (well actually i thought of the thoughts myself BUT STILL) and i am in shambles &team as dads :( net @kstrucknet @lune-net
KOGA YUDAI ﾐ 古賀祐大
he’s probably a boy and girl dad, so ends up having at least two kids
but his true form is a goofy dad
will match his childrens energy 200%
always making silly faces and getting them to laugh
would carry them on his shoulders, swing them around, hold them upside down, do the little airplane flying when he’s lying on the ground, etc
all the types of play that are exciting when they’re little
there’s not a day where he fails to find a new activity to entertain your children even as they grow older
from newborn to first day of kindergarten, yudai wants to have fun with his kids
he’ll definitely put them in dance classes when they’re little, but if dance isn’t their thing, that’s fine too!
would always encourage sports and physical activity as main hobbies so that his kids can create memories outdoors while staying active
and he will never miss a game
his children will also be best dressed, taking after their father’s fashion
he loves to dress up his kids and picks the cutest matching outfits for them as well
his camera roll is filled with them and only them (and a few pics of you he snapped while you weren’t looking— he loves his candids)
MURATA FUMA ﾐ 村田風雅
boy dad, and his son is like his carbon copy
pokemon was the toy of choice since his child was still in the womb, and heck, you probably have a pokemon themed nursery, as well as plushies, clothes, and other toys
his kid’s favourite pokemons are probably snorlax or mudkip which goes adorably for buying things
frankly fuma is out of control with it
his son loves it, he himself is obsessed with it, there’s no cap on the budget when it comes to bonding with his child over the simple collectibles
he’s the best at introducing new foods to his son, even when he’s scared to try something
seeing his dad eat it and make it look like the yummiest thing always works like a charm
you have your husband to thank for getting your toddler to actually enjoy vegetables
although fuma is a bit paranoid about his child’s health
and absolutely panics whenever his son is sick
he’s not the type to fuss over “healthy” food— as long as his son is eating and getting the nutrients he needs, fuma will absolutely allow sweet treats
speaking of worrying, fuma is a huge worrier :(
he can’t help but be concerned over the littlest things when it comes to his son
very protective over him, but also gives him advice and guidance and is easily the best role model you could ask for your son to have
WANG YIXIANG ﾐ 王奕翔
he’s a boy dad and his son is just as much of a softie as he is
raises the shyest kid to ever walk the earth
has to always encourage his son to make new friends or try new things
because his little boy is just so hesitant and afraid of so many things
nicholas wants to show his son how fun things can be as well as dispelling the fear that his kid has
this takes little baby steps and hand holding, but nicholas is the best at being patient and comforting with his son
always tries to give his son a healthy push, but when it gets overwhelming, he understands as well
every small milestone is celebrated like it’s a big deal
because to nicholas, it is
every time he sees his son smile, his heart bursts in his chest
he has the closest bond imaginable with his child, and as such, often spends time playing with him alone even after he’s reached the age that most kids would want to play with their friends
will sing and play guitar or piano with his son, which is one of the few things that isn’t so terrifying to his little brain
even when a wrong note is pressed, the two can laugh it off together and enjoy the process of learning new songs together
he has the cutest father son musical duets to show off to you
BYUN EUIJOO ﾐ 변의주
girl dad in the house
his little daughter will grow up to love watching movies, especially ghibli ones
and well, ponyo may be her favourite for a reason
points and giggles whenever she sees ponyo to compare with her dad
euijoo can’t get over how cute it is every time
he’s the soft and caring type of dad, like he’s incapable of ever getting mad at his daughter
he will scold her when she does something wrong, although it breaks his heart to see her pout and tears
he’s the best at comforting her as well, and it seems as if there’s no safer place than in her father’s arms
loves to play dress up with his daughter, whether it’s a princess tea party or dinosaur onesies
tries to learn how to do his daughter’s hair, to varying success
but he is the best at picking out bows or cute hair accessories for her
reads a bedtime story to her every night, and sometimes has to think of his own stories off the top of his head when his little girl insists on making a new story together
loves to go on walks with his kid or plan cute picnics
peels oranges for his daughter, they’re her favourite fruit
she likes to eat the segments from biggest to smallest saving the cutest piece of orange for last
NAKAKITA YUMA ﾐ 中耒田悠真
this man is a girl dad and he creates the sassiest child by accident
every time his daughter shows you attitude, he has to remind her that it’s no way to treat her mother
you blame yuma for your daughter’s sassiness
yuma is convinced it was partly you as well
either way, you have a bold and cheeky toddler on your hands, and dealing with her can be hard work
fighting her sassiness with more sassiness only works part of the time
gentle words aren’t too effective, yet strongly worded ones often give the opposite affect yuma and you intend
whenever yuma has to introduce his daughter to new people, he’s always a little nervous about how she’ll behave
but he quickly figures out that she knows when and where she can have attitude, and puts on the perfect princess act around strangers
it makes yuma laugh and also slightly impresses him the grasp his daughter has on people already
despite it sometimes feeling like fighting fire with fire, yuma and his kid have a very close bond
and he would protect her from anything
he’s proud of the things she can do as well— her sassy sarcastic attitude shows how smart she really is, and witty as well
although she may not use it for the most perfect reasons
yuma can always joke around and laugh with his kid, his humour matching his daughter’s perfectly
and sometimes he enjoys seeing who can be sassier (it is always his daughter)
&team taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @kpoprhia,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @talking-saxy,, @hursheys,, @loserlvrss,, @voikiraz,, @hyukabean,, @nicholasluvbot,, @i03jae,, @kangtaehyunzzz
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