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[changbinsbuffbiceps]

Oh he's gonna be the death of me-

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

Survive the Night

Stray Kids x ExMilitary!Reader (They/Them)

Zombieapocholypse

Angst, Fluff

The world had ended long ago. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

It had been over a year since the infection spread across Korea, turning cities into death traps and people into monsters. Stray Kids had once been at the top of the world—fame, music, fans—but now, none of that mattered. They weren’t idols anymore. They were just survivors.

For weeks, they had barely been scraping by, moving from one abandoned building to another, surviving on whatever scraps they could find. The group had managed to stay together, but not without losses. Jisung still carried the guilt of having to put down a former staff member who had turned. Hyunjin hadn’t spoken much since their last shelter was overrun. Seungmin, once the most pragmatic of them, had started losing hope.

And then there was Chan—their leader, their rock. He did everything to keep them together, but even he was exhausted.

They weren’t fighters. They were just young men thrown into a nightmare with no way out.

That night, they thought it would be their last.

The old convenience store they had taken shelter in had been a mistake. The sound of a breaking window had alerted a nearby horde, and now they were surrounded.

“There’s too many,” Felix panted, pressing himself against the shelves, his voice shaking.

“What do we do?” Jeongin asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Run,” Chan muttered. “We run on my count—”

The moans grew louder, the glass shattering as the first of the undead pushed through.

Then—

Gunshots.

Precise. Controlled.

One by one, the zombies dropped, skulls bursting open with every shot. A shadow moved through the night—swift and lethal. The flash of a blade. The echo of suppressed fire. Within minutes, the street was silent again.

You stood there, dressed in tactical gear, a rifle slung over your back, a knife still dripping in your hand. Your expression was unreadable, eyes scanning them with sharp, practiced efficiency. You didn’t seem surprised to see them—just tired.

“Are you all useless or just unlucky?”

The eight of them stared, breathless.

Minho was the first to find his voice. “Who the hell are you?”

You tilted your head slightly. “The one who just saved your asses.”

———

They had little choice but to follow you.

You led them through the ruins of Seoul, moving like you had done it a thousand times before. Every step was calculated. Every glance, every turn—nothing about you was careless.

It was nearly dawn when they arrived at the camp.

It wasn’t like the temporary shelters they had hidden in before. This was organized. Barbed wire fences, reinforced walls, watchtowers manned with people carrying rifles. People—hardened survivors—moved with discipline, weapons strapped to their backs, eyes sharp with suspicion.

“What is this place?” Hyunjin asked, voice hoarse.

“Our home,” you said simply.

Chan stepped forward. “And… you’re letting us stay?”

You turned to face them fully, crossing your arms. “Depends.”

“On what?”

“If you’re useful.”

———

No freeloaders. No weakness.

That was the rule.

The next morning, training began.

Bang Chan was the most adaptable. His leadership skills translated well into the new world, but he had no combat experience. You worked with him personally, teaching him how to handle a rifle properly, how to command in battle. He was determined—picking up quickly, even if he hesitated to kill.

“You can’t hesitate out there,” you warned after he failed to take down a training dummy.

“I know,” he muttered, gripping the gun tighter.

“You hesitate, your people die.”

His jaw tightened. Then, he fired—this time, hitting the target dead center.

Lee Know (Minho) was sharp. Observant. He picked up knife work almost immediately, his movements fluid, efficient. He wasn’t the type to ask for help, but you caught the way he studied your movements, mimicking them until he matched you.

One night, you caught him practicing alone.

“You’re good,” you commented, watching from the shadows.

He glanced at you, gripping the knife. “Not as good as you.”

You smirked. “Not yet.”

Changbin had strength but lacked control. You taught him how to use his power properly, how to turn brute force into a weapon rather than a liability.

After one particularly brutal sparring session, he groaned, lying on the ground. “Are you even human?”

You chuckled, offering him a hand. “Some days, I wonder.”

Hyunjin struggled the most. He hated killing, even if it was necessary. The first time you forced him to put down a captured zombie, he nearly broke.

“You think I enjoy this?” you asked coldly, watching him tremble. “I don’t. But in this world, it’s kill or be killed.”

Tears burned in his eyes. “I don’t want to be a killer.”

You softened, stepping closer. “Then don’t be. Be a survivor.”

Han Jisung was surprisingly quick to adapt. His fear made him cautious, but his intelligence made him resourceful. When you taught him how to use explosives, he lit up.

“So you’re saying I get to blow things up?”

You rolled your eyes. “Within reason.”

Felix was a natural with a crossbow. He didn’t trust himself with a gun but took to the bow like he was made for it. His accuracy was terrifying.

“Where’d you learn this?” you asked after watching him land three perfect headshots in a row.

He hesitated before smiling slightly. “Video games.”

You blinked. “…Huh.”

Seungmin was tactical. He didn’t have the physical strength of the others, but he was methodical—quickly learning strategy and ambush tactics. He became your second-in-command in training, running drills alongside you.

Jeongin, the youngest, had the hardest time. He was terrified. You didn’t blame him.

One night, after a failed combat drill, he sat alone, hands shaking.

You sat beside him, handing him a bottle of water.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered.

“You can,” you said firmly. “You already have. You’re alive, aren’t you?”

He swallowed, glancing at you. “How do you keep going?”

You looked away. “Because I have to.”

And now, so did they.

———

the soldier.

It was the way you always made sure they ate first before you did. The way you never let them go on supply runs alone. The way you knew when to be tough and when to be kind.

And they fell for you. One by one.

Chan wasn’t used to feeling weak. He had always been the leader, the protector, the one who held everything together. But in this world, you were stronger than him. And instead of feeling threatened, he felt safe.

He found himself watching you more than he should. The way you scanned the horizon for danger. The way you moved with such confidence, like nothing could shake you.

One night, as the two of you were sitting by the fire, he finally said it.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

You glanced at him. “Do what?”

“Stay so strong. Keep going.”

You sighed, staring into the flames. “Because if I stop, I die.” Then, after a pause, you added, “And I refuse to die.”

Chan nodded, clenching his fists. “I want to be strong like you.”

“You are strong, Chan.” Your voice was softer now. “You keep your people together. That’s more than most leaders can do.”

His breath caught in his throat. Your people. Not just a random group of survivors anymore. You saw them as your own.

And Chan knew, in that moment, that he’d do anything to protect you.

Minho didn’t trust easily. The world had made him that way.

But you were different. You didn’t just tell people to be strong—you made them strong. You never gave false hope, but you never let them drown in despair either.

One evening, after training, he found you sitting alone, sharpening your knife.

“You never let yourself rest, do you?” he asked, sitting beside you.

You smirked. “Neither do you.”

He chuckled, twirling his own knife between his fingers. “Guess we have that in common.”

For a while, there was silence. Then, Minho spoke again.

“You don’t have to do everything alone, you know.”

You stopped sharpening your blade. That was the first time someone had said that to you in a long time.

Minho didn’t say anything else, but the way he nudged his shoulder against yours—silent, warm, comforting—said everything.

Changbin admired strength, but he admired your strength the most.

You weren’t just physically strong; you were mentally unbreakable. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

Until one night.

He was on watch duty when he found you sitting by the fence, staring out at the dark, your hands gripping your rifle a little too tightly.

“You okay?” he asked, sitting down next to you.

You didn’t answer right away.

Then, quietly, “Some days, it’s harder to keep going.”

Changbin had never seen you like this before. You always seemed untouchable. But now, in the dead of night, you looked tired.

Without thinking, he reached over, squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to carry this alone.”

You blinked, turning to look at him.

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself lean on someone else.

Hyunjin hated this world. He hated the blood, the death, the way life had lost all meaning.

But you? You made him want to fight.

He didn’t know when it started—maybe it was the way you refused to let him give up, or the way you always noticed when he was struggling. But he realized it one evening, when you found him sitting alone, staring at the sky.

You sat down next to him, silent for a while. Then, you asked, “What do you miss the most?”

He sighed. “Everything.” Then, after a pause, he added, “Dancing, mostly.”

You nodded. “I miss music.”

Hyunjin turned to you, surprised. “You used to listen to music a lot?”

You chuckled. “I used to have playlists for everything. Training, driving, even sleeping.”

Hyunjin smiled, for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’d like to hear them someday.”

You met his gaze, something soft in your eyes. “Someday.”

And in that moment, Hyunjin decided he’d survive—just so he could see that “someday” with you.

Jisung had always been the one to make jokes, to lighten the mood even when everything felt hopeless. But you saw through it.

One night, as the camp settled down, he found you sitting by the supply crates, cleaning your gun.

“You know,” he said, flopping down beside you, “you’re kind of terrifying.”

You smirked. “Good.”

He chuckled, but then his smile faded. “Do you ever get scared?”

You paused. Then, honestly, “All the time.”

Jisung blinked. “Really?”

You nodded. “Fear keeps you alive.”

Jisung swallowed, his usual humor gone. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

You looked at him, then reached over, squeezing his shoulder. “Then I’ll make sure you never have to be.”

And for the first time, Jisung believed he might actually survive this.

Felix found warmth in you. Even though you were tough, even though you didn’t let your guard down easily, he could feel the kindness beneath it all.

And it made him feel safe.

One night, after a supply run, you noticed him shivering by the fire. Without a word, you took off your jacket and draped it over his shoulders.

Felix’s eyes widened. “But—you’ll be cold.”

You shrugged. “I can handle it.”

Felix looked at you, his heart pounding.

No one had ever made him feel this protected before.

And he wasn’t sure if it was the apocalypse or if it was just you, but he never wanted to lose that feeling.

Seungmin was practical. He didn’t believe in heroics, didn’t believe in false hope.

But you made him believe in something.

It was the way you led, the way you fought, the way you refused to give up no matter what.

One night, he approached you while you were cleaning your weapons.

“You’re too stubborn to die, aren’t you?” he asked.

You smirked. “Damn right.”

He sighed. “Good.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Good?”

He shrugged. “We need you.”

You stared at him for a moment, then smiled.

And for the first time in a long time, Seungmin let himself hope.

Jeongin was the youngest. The one who had the hardest time adjusting.

But you never treated him like a kid.

One night, after a training session, he hesitated before speaking. “Do you think I’ll make it?”

You turned to him, serious. “I know you will.”

He swallowed. “How do you know?”

You smirked. “Because I’m going to make sure of it.”

Jeongin stared at you, then nodded, determination filling his eyes.

For the first time, he truly believed it.

——————

They all loved you in their own way.

And in a world full of death, you were the reason they kept fighting.

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

Unbreakable Bond

Stray Kids x Bodyguard!Reader (He/Him)

Summary: Stray Kids get a new bodyguard. He is intimidating and they have a problem getting used to him. When things start to get better, something terrible happens.

Hurt/Comfort

The air inside JYP Entertainment’s headquarters was heavy with tension. The members of Stray Kids sat around the conference room table, exchanging wary glances as they awaited the arrival of their new bodyguard.

“I still don’t get why we need a new one,” Hyunjin muttered, tapping his fingers on the table impatiently. “Our last one was fine.”

Bang Chan sighed, rubbing his temples. “The agency decided we need someone more experienced. Apparently, this guy has handled security for high-profile celebrities and government officials.”

“That sounds… intense,” Han said, frowning. “What if he’s super strict?”

Felix, sitting beside him, shuddered. “I just hope he’s not scary.”

The door suddenly swung open, making them all jump. In stepped their new bodyguard.

He was tall—easily over six feet—dressed in all black, with broad shoulders and a strong, imposing build. His sharp gaze swept across the room, scanning each member with the precision of someone who had been trained to analyze threats in an instant. His expression was unreadable, and the sheer intensity of his presence made the room fall silent.

Lee Know crossed his arms. “Great. He looks like he could break us in half.”

Changbin raised an eyebrow. “Or just glare us into submission.”

The bodyguard stepped forward and bowed slightly. “I’m [Y/N]. I’ll be in charge of your safety from now on.” His voice was deep and firm, leaving no room for argument.

The members mumbled greetings in response, but the atmosphere remained stiff. They weren’t sure what to make of him yet, but one thing was clear—he was nothing like their previous bodyguards.

This was going to take some getting used to.

---

Days passed, and the group found themselves struggling to warm up to [Y/N]. He was professional to a fault, always keeping a strict distance between himself and the members. Unlike their past bodyguards, who had been more relaxed and friendly, [Y/N] maintained a firm boundary.

He never laughed at their jokes, never joined their playful banter, and always seemed to be watching everything with a sharp, calculating gaze.

During rehearsals, he stood near the door, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room. During meals, he sat at a separate table, only eating after they had finished. When they traveled, he was always the first to enter and the last to leave, making sure every exit and entrance was secure.

“He’s like a machine,” Seungmin whispered one night as they sat in their dorm’s living room. “Does he ever take a break?”

“Maybe he’s a robot,” Han joked, earning a nudge from Felix.

Chan sighed. “Come on, guys. He’s just doing his job.”

“But does he have to be so cold?” Hyunjin muttered, leaning back against the couch. “It’s like he doesn’t even see us as people, just a mission to complete.”

Secretly, though, some of them were intrigued. There was something about [Y/N] that was different—something beneath the surface they couldn’t quite figure out.

And then, one night, everything changed.

---

It happened after a late-night practice session. The members were exhausted, heading toward their van, when a small group of overzealous fans suddenly appeared.

At first, it seemed harmless—just a few people hoping for pictures. But then, the crowd grew. More fans rushed forward, their excitement turning into chaos.

Security tried to hold them back, but it was overwhelming. People were pushing, screaming, trying to grab at the members. Felix stumbled, nearly falling, and panic set in.

Then, suddenly—[Y/N] moved.

With speed and precision, he stepped forward, shielding the group with his body. His voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the noise.

“Step back! Now!”

The intensity in his tone sent a shockwave through the crowd. His presence alone was enough to make people hesitate. Then, he carefully but firmly guided the members toward the van, blocking anyone who got too close.

By the time the doors slammed shut, their hearts were pounding. They sat in stunned silence, staring at [Y/N], who was calmly checking his earpiece as if nothing had happened.

But something had changed.

For the first time, they saw him not just as an intimidating figure, but as someone who genuinely cared about their safety. Someone who had risked himself to protect them.

And slowly, they started seeing him in a new light.

---

After that night, the distance between [Y/N] and Stray Kids began to shrink.

He was still professional, still disciplined—but there were moments where his walls slipped just a little.

Like when Felix shyly offered him a brownie one evening, and instead of refusing, [Y/N] accepted it with a quiet “Thank you.”

Or when Han, curious as ever, started asking him questions about his past work, and to everyone’s surprise, [Y/N] actually answered—briefly, but enough to show he was listening.

And then, there was the time Hyunjin tripped over his own feet, and [Y/N] caught him before he hit the floor. “Be careful,” he murmured, his touch surprisingly gentle.

Little moments like that made the members realize something important.

[Y/N] wasn’t cold.

He was just guarded.

And without even realizing it, they all started falling for him.

One by one, in different ways, they found themselves drawn to the man who had once been nothing more than an intimidating presence in their lives.

---

Things had been going well—better than any of them expected. [Y/N] had become more than just a bodyguard; he was part of their world now. He still had that tough, disciplined exterior, but when he let his guard down, they saw glimpses of something deeper.

Lee Know would catch him smirking at their antics. Changbin noticed that he listened to their music during quiet moments. Seungmin once swore he saw him trying not to laugh at one of Han’s ridiculous jokes.

And then, there were the little things—like how he subtly adjusted Felix’s scarf when it was cold or how he always positioned himself closer to Hyunjin in crowded places, knowing he hated being overwhelmed.

Feelings grew, unspoken but undeniably present.

But before any of them could make sense of what they were feeling, everything fell apart.

It happened after a fan event.

They were heading back to their van, exhausted but in good spirits. The streets were dimly lit, the night air crisp. [Y/N] was walking slightly ahead, as always, scanning for any potential threats.

And then—a gunshot.

The sound split the air, followed by screaming. Chaos erupted.

In an instant, [Y/N] reacted, shoving the members behind cover. “Stay down!” His voice was sharp, commanding, but there was something else in it. Urgency.

The members barely had time to register what was happening before they saw him stagger.

Blood.

A dark stain spread across his shirt, just below his ribs.

��No—NO!” Chan was the first to move, lunging toward him, but [Y/N] gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay upright. “Stay back!” he hissed. His hand clutched his side, but his focus remained on scanning the area. The threat wasn’t gone yet.

Security rushed in, sirens blaring in the distance. The attacker—some obsessed individual who had been lurking in the crowd—was tackled to the ground.

But all Stray Kids could see was [Y/N] sinking to his knees.

Hyunjin was frozen in shock. Felix was trembling. Han had tears in his eyes.

“You’re hurt—”

“I’m fine,” [Y/N] muttered, though the blood dripping from his fingers said otherwise. “It’s just a graze.”

But his body betrayed him. He collapsed before he could take another step.

And the world shattered.

---

Hospitals always had a strange stillness to them.

The members sat in silence, the only sound being the beeping of monitors and the occasional footsteps of nurses passing by. [Y/N] was in the hospital bed, pale but stable, his breathing even.

They had never seen him like this. Vulnerable. Still.

For hours, no one spoke.

Then, quietly, Felix whispered, “What if he hadn’t made it?”

No one had an answer.

Hyunjin clenched his fists. “He took that bullet for us.” His voice was tight with emotion. “For me. For all of us.”

“I don’t get it,” Han mumbled. “Why would he do that? We’re just his job.”

But they knew that wasn’t true.

He had pushed them away at first, kept things professional—but somewhere along the way, they had become more than just an assignment.

They had become his family.

And now, seeing him like this, hooked up to machines, helpless and hurt because he had chosen to protect them—it was unbearable.

Bang Chan was the first to move. He reached out, taking [Y/N]’s hand in his own.

“Wake up,” he said softly. “You promised to keep us safe. But we need you too.”

One by one, the others joined in, hands resting on [Y/N]’s arm, his shoulder—silent pleas for him to open his eyes.

And then—after what felt like an eternity—his fingers twitched.

A pained groan escaped his lips.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open.

The relief was instant.

Felix let out a choked sob. Han nearly collapsed into Seungmin. Hyunjin wiped his eyes before [Y/N] could see.

“…You guys look awful,” [Y/N] rasped, voice rough from disuse.

Lee Know let out a wet laugh. “Says the guy who got himself shot.”

[Y/N] exhaled, then winced. “Told you… it was just a graze.”

“Shut up,” Changbin muttered, wiping at his eyes. “You scared the hell out of us.”

For the first time, [Y/N] seemed genuinely surprised. His gaze moved over them, taking in the raw emotions on their faces.

“…You really care that much?” he asked quietly.

There was a pause—then Hyunjin, unable to hold back any longer, blurted out, “Of course, we do! We—” He stopped himself, face burning, but the truth was out there now.

They all felt it.

The unspoken bond that had formed. The feelings none of them had fully understood until now.

[Y/N] was more than just a bodyguard.

He was theirs.

And they weren’t going to let him go.

---

Recovery wasn’t easy. [Y/N] hated being confined to a hospital bed, and the members took full advantage of the situation to fuss over him.

Felix brought him homemade cookies. Han made him laugh with dumb jokes. Seungmin and Lee Know took turns scolding him for being reckless.

And Chan—well, Chan just sat beside him most nights, quietly making sure he knew he wasn’t alone.

For the first time in a long time, [Y/N] let himself be cared for.

And when he was finally discharged, when he stood outside the hospital and saw the members grinning at him, waiting to take him home—he knew.

He wasn’t just their bodyguard anymore.

He was part of them.

And no matter what came next, he wasn’t going anywhere.

--------------------------------

Hope you enjoyed it!

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

Stray Kids x Worldstar!Reader (They/Them)

Summery: Stray Kids Looks up to you. They’re your biggest Fans and at the After Party of the Met Gala, they Are finally meeting you.

Fluff

The flashing cameras, the shimmering couture, the air thick with celebrity and status—the Met Gala was everything Stray Kids had imagined and more. But amidst the glitz and glam, their minds were fixated on one thing. Or rather, one person.

You.

The global superstar. The icon. The artist they had admired for years. Your voice had soundtracked their late-night practices, your performances had inspired their own, and your interviews had left them in awe of your artistry and passion. And now, for the first time, they were breathing the same air as you.

“I still can’t believe they’re actually here,” Felix whispered as they entered the grand hall of the afterparty, eyes scanning the crowd.

“We’ve watched every single music video, every behind-the-scenes clip…” Seungmin muttered, almost to himself.

“Every live performance,” Changbin added.

“Every interview,” Han corrected.

Bang Chan chuckled at their reactions, but even he couldn’t deny the nervous anticipation bubbling in his chest. They were no strangers to meeting celebrities, but this was different. This was you.

Then, as if the universe had heard their silent wishes, there you were.

Dressed in something effortlessly elegant, standing by the bar, laughing at something a fellow artist had said. The sound of your laughter—one they had only ever heard through screens—was somehow even more mesmerizing in real life.

Hyunjin froze. “Oh my god.”

“Someone say something,” Jeongin whispered.

Lee Know crossed his arms, feigning indifference, but the slight pink in his ears gave him away. “Why are we just standing here?”

Bang Chan took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of his leaderly confidence. “Okay. We go over. We say hi. We don’t freak out.”

They moved as a unit, the weight of their nerves making each step feel surreal. And then, suddenly, they were in front of you.

You turned, eyes landing on them, and for a second, time stood still.

Then, your lips curved into a warm smile. “Stray Kids, right?”

If there was ever a moment to remain composed, this was it. But instead, seven pairs of eyes widened, and a chorus of barely contained gasps filled the space.

“You… you know us?” Han stammered.

Your smile widened. “Of course. You’re incredible artists.”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

Then—

“Can I just say, I love your work,” Felix blurted, his Australian accent thick with excitement.

“I’ve watched your concert documentaries at least a dozen times,” Seungmin admitted.

“Your stage presence is insane,” Hyunjin gushed. “I’ve studied so many of your performances.”

Han, recovering from his initial shock, dramatically clutched his chest. “This is the best moment of my life.”

You laughed, a genuine, delighted sound. “You guys are adorable.”

Lee Know, ever the composed one, cleared his throat. “What they mean is… we’re huge fans.”

“Like, really huge,” Jeongin added. “Possibly your biggest.”

Bang Chan, finally regaining his voice, grinned. “I think what they’re trying to say is, meeting you means a lot to us.”

Your expression softened. “That’s really sweet. And honestly? The feeling’s mutual. You’re all incredibly talented.”

Eight jaws dropped.

“Wait, what?” Changbin’s eyes were comically wide.

“You listen to our music?” Felix asked, practically glowing.

You nodded. “Are you kidding? Your energy is insane. The way you mix genres, your performances—everything. It’s inspiring.”

If Stray Kids weren’t already standing in a daze, they definitely were now. Meeting you was one thing. Hearing that you admired them? That was beyond their wildest dreams.

The conversation flowed effortlessly after that. You laughed, exchanged stories, talked about music, and by the end of the night, the initial nervousness had melted into something new—an easy camaraderie, a mutual admiration.

As the party continued, Bang Chan looked around at his members—still buzzing with excitement, still slightly in disbelief.

This night? This was one for the history books.

The afterparty had ended, but the adrenaline still coursed through Stray Kids’ veins.

Even as they sat in their hotel suite, still dressed in their Met Gala attire, the night felt unreal.

“Did that actually happen?” Han muttered, staring at his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window.

“No way,” Hyunjin answered, shaking his head in disbelief. “We must’ve imagined it.”

“I don’t think my brain is capable of creating something that perfect,” Seungmin said, taking a sip of his water.

Felix, who was scrolling through his phone, let out a small gasp. “It’s real. Look.”

He turned his screen toward them, showing an Instagram story.

Your Instagram story.

It was a short clip—just a few seconds—but it showed you laughing at something one of them had said, the camera panning slightly to reveal the group standing with you. The caption read:

“Finally met some of my favorite artists tonight. What a dream!”

Silence.

Then—

“OH MY GOD.”

The room exploded into chaos.

“Favorite artists?! US?!” Han practically shrieked.

“Did you save that? Send it to me. No, wait, I’ll screenshot it. Actually, I need a video recording of this moment,” Changbin said, fumbling with his phone.

Jeongin, clutching his head, whispered, “I can’t believe this is real life.”

Bang Chan just sat there, smiling to himself, letting the moment sink in. They had spent years looking up to you, admiring your work from afar. And now? You had acknowledged them—not just as fellow musicians, but as equals.

Then, another notification popped up.

A message.

From you.

Chan’s breath hitched. He read it once. Twice. His brain needed a moment to process.

“Uh… guys?” His voice was calm, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

“What?” Lee Know asked, raising a brow.

Chan turned his phone around.

You: Hey, tonight was amazing! We should all hang out sometime. Maybe a studio session? :)

If the room was chaotic before, it was nothing compared to now.

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

I can not describe how much I love this man.

Not the hello kitty bag😭

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

Crying

Screaming

Kicking my feet

at this concept....

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

R.I.P.

Goodbye long hair Wooyoung...you will be missed.

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

friendly reminder that Changbin wrote Hallucination :)

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

They saved me. In every way that a person can be saved.

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

Lord have mercy -

[changbinsbuffbiceps]

Changbins laugh is the reason I'm still alive.