The door creaked open, and instead of the usual confident “I’m home,” you were greeted with a dramatic groan. Han shuffled in, his shoulders slumped and his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “It’s not fair,” he mumbled, dropping his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes. “They make me work so hard… and then you weren’t even here when I wanted cuddles.” His words were childish, but the way he trudged toward you and immediately wrapped his arms around your waist made your heart melt. His face buried into your chest as he let out another exaggerated whine, clearly basking in the comfort only you could give. You laughed softly, threading your fingers through his messy hair. “My poor baby,” you teased, but he only tightened his hold, mumbling something incoherent against you. Pulling back just enough to look at you, he gave you the most pitiful puppy eyes you’d ever seen. “Don’t laugh at me,” he pouted, “I just want to be taken care of sometimes, y’know?” The raw honesty in his voice peeked through the playfulness, and you pressed a kiss to his forehead in response. His pout eased into a soft smile, and with a content sigh, he whispered, “See? That’s all I needed. Just you.”

The rain came out of nowhere, sheets of water cascading down as you and Jisung sprinted for cover under the small bus stop awning. Both of you were dripping, your hair plastered to your forehead, but Jisung immediately put on a show, groaning dramatically as he wrung out his hoodie. “This is it,” he sighed, plopping onto the bench like a man defeated. “We’re stranded forever. Guess we’ll have to survive on vending machine snacks and rainwater.” His exaggerated pout made you laugh, and his grin widened at the sound, proud that he’d pulled it from you even in the chilly drizzle. The laughter faded into a comfortable silence, the steady rhythm of the rain filling the space around you. Jisung fidgeted with the strings of his hoodie, stealing little glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking. Finally, with a nervous chuckle, he blurted out, “You know… I don’t really mind being stuck here.” His voice was softer now, honest in a way that made your heart skip. “If it means I get to be with you like this.” He looked down, chewing his lip before meeting your eyes again, his smile small and a little shaky. “I think I’ve liked you for a lot longer than I’ve been brave enough to admit.” The rain poured on, but in that moment, the only thing you could hear was the thundering of your own heartbeat.

The dorm living room was a mess of blankets, pillows, and half-empty snack bags, but it was perfect—because all eight boys were crammed in for movie night with you. Bang Chan had insisted he’d “stay awake to keep things organized,” but not even thirty minutes in, he was already asleep with his head in your lap, mumbling a little whiny protest whenever you shifted. Minho sat nearby, pretending to be uninterested, but you caught him draping the softest blanket over your shoulders when he thought you weren’t looking—though he quickly ruined the sweetness by giving you a cheeky pinch and smirking. Changbin made a whole production out of carrying every snack from the kitchen in one trip, only to blush when you told him he was “so strong.” Across the room, Hyunjin clutched the popcorn bowl to his chest until you pouted at him, and with dramatic flair, he dropped to one knee and presented it to you like a knight serving his queen. The chaos didn’t stop there—Jisung had turned the movie into his personal comedy routine, making random comments that had you laughing so hard your stomach hurt, his grin widening with every giggle he earned. Meanwhile, Felix had nestled in at your side, his warm hand slipping into yours as he whispered in that deep, husky voice, “Comfy?”—and once your fingers intertwined, he never let go. Seungmin teased you mercilessly for flinching at the jump scares, rolling his eyes with a smug grin, but the next moment, he was tilting his shoulder toward you in quiet invitation. And Jeongin—determined to prove he wasn’t the “baby” anymore—ended up clutching your arm during a suspenseful scene, making everyone burst out laughing. The night ended in true Stray Kids fashion: with all of them bickering over who got to sit closest to you, until Chan’s sleepy voice cut through the noise, his head still on your lap. “They can argue all they want,” he murmured with a little smile. “You’re mine.”

The door creaked open, and instead of the usual confident “I’m home,” you were greeted with a dramatic groan. Bang Chan shuffled in, his shoulders slumped and his bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “It’s not fair,” he mumbled, dropping his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes. “They make me work so hard… and then you weren’t even here when I wanted cuddles.” His words were childish, but the way he trudged toward you and immediately wrapped his arms around your waist made your heart melt. His face buried into your chest as he let out another exaggerated whine, clearly basking in the comfort only you could give. You laughed softly, threading your fingers through his messy hair. “My poor baby,” you teased, but he only tightened his hold, mumbling something incoherent against you. Pulling back just enough to look at you, he gave you the most pitiful puppy eyes you’d ever seen. “Don’t laugh at me,” he pouted, “I just want to be taken care of sometimes, y’know?” The raw honesty in his voice peeked through the playfulness, and you pressed a kiss to his forehead in response. His pout eased into a soft smile, and with a content sigh, he whispered, “See? That’s all I needed. Just you.”

The day had clearly worn him down; Seungmin sat slouched on the couch, his usual sharp wit dulled into silence. You joined him quietly, slipping beside him until his shoulder brushed yours. He tried to wave you off with a small shake of his head, but you weren’t going to let him hide behind that mask tonight. Tilting your head, you caught his gaze and said softly, “You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. I can see when something’s weighing on you.” His lips pressed into a thin line, as if he didn’t want to admit it, but the way his shoulders sagged told you he was grateful for your presence. Reaching for his hand, you gave it a gentle squeeze. “You know what always makes me feel better?” you asked, your tone light but full of sincerity. “Seeing you smile. It’s… beautiful, Seungmin. Honestly, I think it’s one of the most comforting things in the world.” His cheeks flushed faintly at your words, and though he tried to look away, a small, reluctant grin tugged at his lips. You leaned closer, pressing your forehead lightly to his. “There it is,” you whispered, smiling back at him. “That’s the smile I love. Don’t forget how much light you bring just by being you.” And for the first time that night, his quiet chuckle filled the room, soft and genuine — just for you.

You bent down to peek into the fridge, humming to yourself as you debated what snack to grab, when suddenly—smack! You yelped and nearly hit your head on the door, spinning around to see Minho already grinning like he’d won a game. “What? Don’t look at me like that,” he teased, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You were sticking it out on purpose, weren’t you?” He leaned casually against the counter, arms folded, clearly waiting for your reaction. The smug little smirk on his face made it obvious—he lived for these moments, for getting under your skin in the most ridiculous ways. You huffed and tried to brush past him, but he was faster, catching your wrist and pulling you right into his space. “Ohhh, don’t act shy now,” he drawled, tilting his head with that signature catlike grin. “I barely did anything, and look at you—completely flustered.” He leaned closer, just enough to make your heartbeat jump, his laughter soft but wicked. “You’re way too fun to tease,” he added, tapping your nose playfully. Then, his voice dropped, the mischief softening just a little. “But the best part?” His lips curved into a smile as he whispered, “You only let me get away with it.” With a chuckle, he released your hand, smug as ever. “Face it—you love your personal menace.”

The room was quiet, the kind of silence that felt thick with tension, every second stretching a little too long. You sat across from Felix, but he wasn’t even trying to hide the way his eyes lingered on you — steady, dark, unreadable. His usual sunshine smile was gone, replaced with something heavier, something that made your heartbeat quicken. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, that deep rumble that always sent shivers down your spine. “Do you feel it too?” he murmured, leaning forward ever so slightly. “This… pull between us. It’s driving me crazy.” He shifted closer, every movement deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. The air felt hotter, your breath catching as he closed the distance. “I’ve been trying to hold back,” he admitted, his tone velvet and husky, brushing the words against your ear. “But when it’s just us… I can’t.” His hand hovered near yours, not touching, just teasing, waiting. His lips curved into the faintest smirk as he whispered, “Tell me not to… and I’ll stop. But if you don’t—” he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin— “I’ll show you exactly how much I want you.”

You stood up from the couch, stretching as you announced you were heading to bed, but a loud, exaggerated whine immediately filled the room. Changbin sat up, his cheeks puffed out and lips pressed into a deep pout. “Already? Nooo… you’re abandoning me,” he huffed, crossing his arms like a sulky child. When you laughed, he only leaned forward to tug at your sleeve, refusing to let go. “Just five more minutes,” he pleaded, his big eyes looking up at you with a mix of stubbornness and desperation. For someone so strong and confident on stage, he was the complete opposite here—your soft little bbg, begging not to be left alone. The second you sat back down, his pout melted into a triumphant grin. He instantly scooted closer, resting his head against your shoulder and nuzzling in like he belonged there. “See? You can’t say no to me,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your shirt but still full of satisfaction. He wrapped his arms around your waist, clinging like you might disappear at any second. Then, in a quieter tone, almost shy, he added, “I know I act all tough, but with you… I just want to be soft. I just want to be your baby.” He pulled you tighter, his pout returning as he whispered, “So promise you won’t leave me, okay? Stay right here. Forever.”

The door swung open with a burst of energy, and Han appeared with the biggest grin plastered across his face. “Did you miss me?” he asked dramatically, even though he’d only been gone for a few minutes. Without waiting for an answer, he plopped down beside you on the couch, his laughter bubbling like it couldn’t be contained. His cheeks were round with his smile, his eyes sparkling, and he nudged your arm playfully. “I swear, I’m basically a quokka,” he declared proudly. “Look at me—smiley, round cheeks, and happiest when I’m next to you.” His enthusiasm was so contagious you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as he leaned in closer, clearly pleased with himself. Han continued to chatter, filling the room with his goofy charm, from silly impressions to exaggerated declarations of how much you must secretly adore him. But then, in between his antics, he paused, tilting his head to watch you with a softer expression. The quokka smile was still there, but gentler now, more tender. “You know,” he said quietly, “if quokkas are the happiest animals in the world… then I’m even happier. Because I get to be here, with you.” He snuggled against your shoulder, his playful energy giving way to warmth, before adding in a whisper, “So yeah, you’re stuck with your personal quokka forever.”

The afternoon sunlight spilled gently through the curtains as you lounged on the couch, half lost in your thoughts. The quiet was suddenly broken by the sound of footsteps, and a moment later, I.N appeared in the doorway with a mischievous grin and a bag of snacks. “Wow… this is what you’re doing with your day? Just lying here?” he teased, his tone playful but his eyes warm. Without waiting for an invitation, he plopped down beside you, nudging your shoulder with his. The couch dipped under his weight, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he immediately made himself comfortable, like he belonged there. He ripped open the bag of snacks and held one up dramatically. “Say ‘ah,’” he ordered, trying to feed you in the most ridiculous way possible, his laughter bubbling when you rolled your eyes. Every little attempt he made to make you laugh was successful — because that was just who he was with you: light, easy, comforting. After a moment, his teasing quieted, and his voice softened. “You know… I don’t care if we’re out doing something exciting or just sitting here,” he admitted, glancing at you with a shy smile. “As long as it’s with you, it’s my favorite place to be.” He leaned back against the cushions, smirking again to cover the softness he’d just let slip. “So, yeah… you’re stuck with me. And honestly? I like it that way.”

The room was quiet except for the faint sound of a video still playing on your phone. You had dozed off on the couch, the screen glowing softly with a Stray Kids clip — and of course, I.N was front and center, laughing and moving across the stage. The door creaked open, and a moment later, he appeared in the doorway. His eyes immediately caught the screen, and a smirk tugged at his lips as he realized what you had fallen asleep watching. “Really?” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head with amusement. He walked closer, crouching down beside you, his smirk never fading. “Even when you’re asleep, you’re watching me,” he whispered, his voice teasing but warm. Carefully, he slipped the phone from your hand and set it aside before pulling a blanket over your shoulders. For a moment, he just looked at you, the edge of his grin softening into something gentler. “Sleep well,” he murmured, brushing a stray hair from your face. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” With that, he settled into the chair beside the couch, the faintest trace of pride in his expression — as if he’d just caught you keeping a secret you didn’t mean to reveal.

The evening was simple—just the two of you, sitting in the familiar spot on the rooftop where so many of your memories had been made. The city lights glittered below, but Han’s eyes were on you, full of warmth that hadn’t faded once in the five years you’d been together. He laughed softly, fiddling with the edge of his sleeve as he teased, “Five years… can you believe you’ve put up with me for that long?” His voice was playful, but the way his hand brushed against yours was more careful, almost nervous. You nudged him, expecting another joke, but there was something different in the way he looked at you tonight—like he was holding onto words too big to keep inside any longer. He began talking about everything you’d shared: the nights you stayed up talking until sunrise, the fights you patched up with promises, the way you’d grown into each other’s lives so naturally it felt impossible to separate them now. His voice wavered between lighthearted laughter and moments of quiet sincerity, until finally, he fell silent. The only sound was the hum of the city around you, and then he whispered, “I can’t imagine a future that doesn’t have you in it.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box, his hands trembling despite the smile tugging at his lips. “So… will you let me love you for the rest of our lives? Will you marry me?”

The night was quiet, the kind of calm that always settled in when Seungmin was around. He’d shown up at your door without warning, holding your favorite snacks like it was the most natural thing in the world. “You look exhausted,” he teased lightly as he kicked off his shoes, his lips curving into a smirk. But when his eyes lingered on you a second too long, the teasing softened into something gentler. You rolled your eyes, grateful for his company, and thanked him for always knowing when to show up. He only shrugged, settling onto the couch beside you, but his chest tightened at your words. He wanted to say it wasn’t just instinct—that it was because you mattered more to him than anyone else. As the two of you sat together, the room filled with that familiar comfort, Seungmin’s thoughts grew louder than his voice. He laughed at your jokes, offered quiet reassurances when you sighed, but every glance he stole reminded him of what he couldn’t say. Finally, in a lull of conversation, his tone shifted—lower, more careful. “You know… I notice things about you no one else does,” he murmured. “The way you bite your lip when you’re nervous, or how you pretend you’re fine when you’re not.” His gaze met yours, and for once, he didn’t look away. A beat of silence passed before he admitted, softer than ever, “You call me your best friend, but sometimes… I wish I could be something more.” (Ignore the voice)

The room was dim, lit only by the amber glow of a desk lamp. Papers were scattered across the mahogany surface, a pistol lying untouched at the edge, and Bang Chan sat in the center of it all—the image of a man who ruled the underworld. But the moment you pushed open the door, his hard expression softened. His eyes, sharp and calculating only seconds before, melted with warmth as they met yours. “You should be asleep,” he murmured, voice low but gentle, so different from the tone he used with anyone else. You crossed the room, worry etched on your face, and he sighed, leaning back in his chair as if to show you he wasn’t untouchable after all. He reached out, taking your hand in his, thumb brushing over your skin like it was the only thing keeping him grounded. “I know you hate seeing me buried in this world,” he said quietly, glancing at the papers before returning his gaze to you. “But everything I do—every deal, every risk—it’s all to keep you safe.” His lips curved into the faintest smile, half teasing, half sincere. “Even the strongest boss bows to his queen, you know.” He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours, the steel in his presence melting away completely. “You’re my only home,” he whispered. “No matter what happens out there, I’ll always come back to you.”

The rain had been falling steadily all afternoon, soft and rhythmic against the glass. You sat curled up by the window, trying to focus on anything but the heaviness in your chest. Just as you exhaled a tired sigh, your phone buzzed. Felix’s name appeared on the screen, and the moment you answered, his deep, comforting voice filled the quiet room. “Hey… I thought I’d check in. I could kind of tell you weren’t having the best day.” His words weren’t pushy, just gentle, like he was opening a door for you to step through if you wanted. You didn’t have to say much—Felix already seemed to understand. He kept talking in that steady, soothing way only he could, mixing lighthearted reassurances with the occasional soft laugh to ease the mood. The sound of rain blended with his voice, wrapping around you like a cocoon. “Even if today feels heavy, you don’t have to carry it alone,” he murmured. After a pause, his tone grew quieter, almost shy. “Honestly… I just feel happiest when I’m with you. Even if we don’t say anything, it’s enough for me.” His confession lingered in the air, soft and certain, as the rain continued to fall.

It’s well past midnight, and your room is lit only by the faint glow of your laptop screen. You’re scrolling absentmindedly, eyelids heavy, when your phone buzzes unexpectedly. The name flashing across the screen makes your heart skip—Bang Chan. You answer, and his voice filters through the speaker, warm but touched with concern. “You’re still awake? Don’t tell me you’re working again,” he says softly, half teasing, half serious. The sound of him feels like a blanket wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you out of the haze of exhaustion.

It’s well past midnight, and your room is lit only by the faint glow of your laptop screen. You’re scrolling absentmindedly, eyelids heavy, when your phone buzzes unexpectedly. The name flashing across the screen makes your heart skip—Bang Chan. You answer, and his voice filters through the speaker, warm but touched with concern. “You’re still awake? Don’t tell me you’re working again,” he says softly, half teasing, half serious. The sound of him feels like a blanket wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you out of the haze of exhaustion. Ignore the voice pls…

Requested by: transmasc-toga:3 sooooooo…. Deku has always had a crush on you (bakugo) ever since childhood, but he didn't really like those feelings so yeah… but then you both made it into you UA and you (bakugo) started dating ururaka (i don’t ship them tho) and deku got jealous.. ✨Opening: ✨ *You were walking with Ururaka with your hand in hers when deku runs to you from behind and says in a soft voice* deku: hey kacchan.. I have a question… (hope you like it, and ignore the voice)

Hey everyone! It’s really late here so I’m not gonna write too much but you are Hyunjin’s gf/bf (idm anything also you can pick if you are one of the members or a lamp) Yeah… hope you like it.. and ignore the voice..