gogobebe

Comeback season was always rough on both you and Changbin. Even though you two lived together, your clashing schedules left little time for you two to coexist.

Changbin woke up before the sun would even rise while you had barely started sleeping. Working night shift at one of the busiest coffee shops in the city meant that you were too exhausted to even move at that hour.

You both loved your careers though. The two of you mutually understood that times like these would inevitably come. However, your relationship was strong enough to handle these moments ten fold. It just sucked coming home to your boyfriend already asleep each night from his own exhaustion.

Today seemed no different. You woke up sometime in the afternoon, sent Changbin a message that he likely wouldn’t see until his next break, and prepared yourself for work.

You were scheduled to work 3:00p-11:00p, as you were for the last nine days in a row, but you knew you’d end up having to work overtime. That’s how it always worked out. If the closing shift didn’t end with perfection, the morning crew would be on your ass. Sometimes - most of the time - you had to put in some extra hours to ensure that you could sleep in without the work group chat blowing your phone up.

What you liked the most about working nights were the quiet moments. It was rare, simply due to the convenient location of the cafe, but you soaked in those moments any time they happened.

You were in the middle of your shift, merely wiping down the espresso bar during downtime when your manager approached you.

“Y/N, do you ever take a day off?” she laughed, but you could see a glint of concern in her eyes.

“This place is my second home,” you lightly laugh, not wanting her to be truly concerned for you.

“Well, how would you feel if I offered you to go to your real home a few hours early tonight?” you furrowed your brows at her offer.

“Are you for real?” you ask, slightly skeptical. Nobody ever gets sent home early here. You cannot recall a single night where you needed less than three people on the floor at all times.

“I have never seen us this dead before. Seong-i and I can handle this on our own,” your manger smiled warmly at you. “Plus, you need a break. I don’t care what you say, go home and sleep a little extra tonight. I know that I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

You did not have to think twice. Matter of fact, you jumped at the opportunity. If Changbin’s schedule worked as planned, he should have gotten home about an hour ago.

“Thank you so much! I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say, smiling and waving to your manager as you grab your bag and head out the door.

Changbin had gotten home right on time. Everyone had been working their asses off, but Chan always ensured that his members got home when they were supposed to - even if it meant Chan stayed later. This was something that Changbin was both grateful for and slightly concerned with. Regardless, Chan made sure that the boy always went home on time, even if his home had been empty as of recent.

Once Changbin made it home, he immediately replied to your text messages. You likely wouldn’t respond until your lunch break, but he didn’t mind.

He hadn’t expected you to come home early at all. You decided to not message him, wanting your arrival to be a nice surprise.

Trying to think of ways to entertain himself before his nighttime routine, Changbin aimlessly scrolled through his phone. Sitting on the couch, his thumb hovered over the Instagram app.

It had been quite a while since he had gone live by himself. Even though he had been working all day, Changbin was an extremely outgoing individual and really wanted to talk to someone at the moment. Though he would’ve preferred if that person was you, he knew that you’d love watching the clips of him going live in the comfort of your shared home at a later point.

Just as Changbin was about to press the ‘start live’ button on his phone, you tiptoed past the front door, Bin immediately whipping his head around to see you.

“Y/N, baby? Are you real?” Changbin’s face lights up in awe, almost as if he genuinely couldn’t tell if his mind is playing tricks on him.

“Did you forget that I exist?” you tease as you stepped out of your work shoes.

“I could never forget you,” Changbin smiled, haphazardly tossing his phone to the side as he stood to greet you. “I just wasn’t expecting you to be home so early.”

Changbin took your bag from your shoulder and gently hung it up for you. Immediately after, he returned to your side and engulfed you in the warmest, tightest hug possible.

“They let me go home early tonight. I wanted to surprise you,” you mumbled directly into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent that reminded you of what home really meant.

“Surprised, I am,” he chuckled. “I won’t lie, I did believe that the exhaustion was playing tricks on me when I heard the door unlock.”

“Come on, let’s get comfy. I think we could both use it.” You slightly tug on his shirt, motioning for him to loosen his grip and follow you to the couch.

The second that you made it to the couch, he scooped you into his lap. Surprised, you let out a tiny yelp before laughing.

“Clingy much?” you tease.

“I haven’t seen you properly in ages. God forbid a man wants to be close to his princess,” Changbin jokingly groaned before burying his face in your neck.

It didn’t take long for the desire lingering in the room to catch up to the two of you. Changbin slightly lifted his head and began peppering light kisses across your neck, pausing when he found the spots he knows makes you go weak.

Between the sounds of gentle kisses and light panting, you gain the confidence to move your body to straddle Changbin.

“I have missed you so much, Bin,” you murmured sweetly in his ear.

“I’ve missed you so much more.” His tongue darted out to wet his already slightly swollen lips before mindlessly crashing them against yours.

What neither of you were aware of is, when Changbin carelessly threw his phone on the couch upon your arrival, his thumb accidentally clicked on the ‘start live’ button - Changbin had been live this whole time.

The comments had been going crazy.

“Why is the screen black?”

“Changbin, come save us from the dark.”

“Do you all hear talking in the background?”

“Who is in the room with Changbin? My bet is on Seungmin.”

When you two had come to the couch, they only started coming quicker.

“WAIT! WHO IS THAT?”

“WOMAN???”

“Uh…guys…I’m not sure that we are supposed to be here.”

“Oh. My. God. Princess? I’m actually melting.”

“There is no way that he meant to go live.”

Caught in your own world, you two were blissfully unaware. However, not seeing Bin in a while due to their different schedules this week, seeing the ring around Changbin’s profile picture that read ‘live’ instantly caught Jeongin’s attention. He was curious to see what his hyung was up to.

He, like the 20,000 fans in the livestream, opened the live to a pitch black screen. Turning up his volume, Jeongin’s blood ran cold. Hearing faint kissing and the unmistakable sound of your laughter, he knew he had to save his hyung.

Changbin’s phone was buzzing nonstop. You tried to ignore it at first, but it eventually became too much to zone out.

“Bin, you should probably answer that,” you say breathlessly, finally pulling away from the trance you were in.

“I don’t want to,” Changbin whined, dramatically pouting his lips to exaggerate the situation. “It’s probably work related, and I really don’t want them to take this moment away from me.” He began nipping at your neck again, knowing that always shuts you up.

Regardless, his phone buzzes about 10 more times before Changbin himself gets frustrated.

“Jesus Christ!” he groaned. “This better be good.” Changbin reached for his phone.

Instantly, all of the color drains from his face. The last thing that Changbin expected to see was his own reflection staring back at him alongside a chat of, now, 30,000+ people. Jeongin’s messages were coming in one-by-one at the top of the screen. He threw the phone back onto the couch as quickly as possible.

“What? Is everything okay?” you ask, concerned by your boyfriend’s reaction.

“I- I’m on live,” Changbin stuttered, practically whispering at this point.

“What?” you whisper-shouted back at him. “What do you mean ‘on live’? Like, right now? You are live right now?” you ask for clarification. Changbin simply gulps and nods his head nervously.

“Well, did you at least end the live?” you ask, hoping that he at least had enough clarity to end the live during his panic.

“…No,” he squeaked out.

“Changbin,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Why on earth would you not end the live?”

At this point, the phone was facing the ceiling and fans were relishing the sound of you two panicking.

“I AM ACTUALLY DYING BRO!!!”

“Guys, I don’t think that this is scripted.”

“*grabs popcorn*”

“Holy shit, you all are messy.”

When your freshly manicured set comes to cover the camera, the fans freak out more.

“IT IS A WOMAN! I’M NOT CRAZY!”

“French tips? Classy, stay approved.”

“Get your hand off of my man’s phone.”

“I’m dead. Why did cb just throw his phone like that looool.”

“Okay, how do you turn this off?” you’re whispering as if they couldn’t still hear you through the phone.

“Um…I’m not sure,” Changbin mumbles. “I’ve only ever went live on the company phone. The buttons look completely different on here.”

“Cool. Great.” You were getting more anxious with each passing moment. Seeing thousands of comments rushing in only made you more nervous.

“What about this button?” Changbin suggested, pressing a button without hesitation.

Unfortunately for the both of you, it had only set off a filter, turning the whole screen blue.

“Cool, cool. That didn’t work.” Changbin seemed slightly more put together than you.

“Yeah, no shit!” you lightly pushed his shoulder.

“Hey! Language! We’re live.” It was hard not to laugh at your boyfriend during this insane moment. Of course this is something that would only happen to you two. “Yah! Laughing at me won’t solve this any faster.”

“Sorry,” you hiccup. “I’m sorry. You know I laugh when I get nervous.” You instinctively went to wipe the tear falling from your eye, uncovering the phone camera and accidentally showing the fans a glimpse of Changbin’s arm loosely draped around your waist.

“Okay, seriously, how do we end this thing?” Changbin furrowed his brows together, grabbing the phone for himself. Fans were hysterical as they now had a closeup of Changbin’s uber concentrated face.

“Hey, Bixby. Factory reset,” you began repeating, failing miserably at holding in your laughter.

“Yah! Quit that,” Changbin now laughed alongside you, smile as wide as ever.

“Binnie looks so happy!”

“This is lowkey so sweet.”

“FACTORY RESET HAHAHA! I LIKE HER”

“Look at his smile (‘:”

After an embarrassing amount of time, you and Changbin finally figured out how to close the live. For some reason, simply closing the app had not crossed your minds until a fan commented, trying to help you all out.

“I cannot believe that just happened.” You hid your face in the corner of his neck. “I think that I’m going to throw up.”

“That’s it. We are never stepping outside again,” Changbin declared in full seriousness.

“I don’t think your fans would be too happy about that decision.”

“I think my fans are probably bullying me on the internet as we speak,” he whined, holding you tighter as you laughed at him.

“Maybe this wouldn’t happen if you knew how to use your phone, grandpa.”

“Grandpa!” Changbin swiftly moved his hands from your waist to your shoulders, pushing you back enough to make direct eye contact. “You are so lucky that I love you,” he faked an angry face as pure adoration lingered in his eyes.

“I am lucky,” you beamed at him, moving one of his arms so that you could intertwine his fingers with yours. “Do you have any regrets? About people knowing about us now, I mean.”

“Honestly,” he exhaled, “not really. I wish that we could’ve had more control over the situation, but I feel like this reveal was so us.”

“Chaotic?”

“Exactly,” Changbin laughed as he placed a kiss to your cheek.

————————————————————————

Safe to say, neither of you touched your phones for the rest of the night. One incident was enough to handle.

As the two of you slept safely wrapped in each other’s arms, the internet - and the Stray Kids group chat - were popping off.

Stray Kiddos

ji: there is no way that just happened…

lix: I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

lk: laugh. just look at the screenshots of Changbin’s face all over Twitter.

bang: be nice, this could’ve happened to any of us

min: of course you’d say that, old man

hyun: I’m never letting him live this down

innie: I tried to stop this…dear god

Taglist:

@lizal1cious @pineapple-burgah @karlee10261990 @galaxygurlll @landsharkfandomtrash @myen2rude @morgangrice18 @dina-10s-blog @ninamarie1994 @hanadulsetaad @dinkiplier @kpopishgirlie @bbokarismeow @little-mix-fan-forever @xxitsalliebearxx @kingsqueensandvagabonds @hanadulsetaad @itsseohannbin @cosmicbinx @whyiskpoptakingovermylife @delicatechris @yeeyeeilacktherapy-blog @starrgirrl @h-dw @bigchudpickleman @hitoxicity @melodyladean @chandlxa @chandlxa @groovyravenagain @mingi-buffering-24-7 @ozzysoatsolivesandpasta @roxas-hearts13 @sa1nt-kitty @narratedforbutterflies

“Eat something, baby girl,” he says gently, setting a plate of your favorite toast and fruit in front of you. His voice is soft, the same tone he uses when he knows you’re overwhelmed.

You nod, but don’t touch it.

Minho notices immediately. Of course he does.

Without a word, he quietly switches your plate with his own, sliding the warmer portion toward you like maybe if it comes from him, you’ll feel safe enough to eat. His eyes linger on your bruised cheek for a second too long before he looks away, jaw tight.

You don’t eat much, but the small gesture makes your chest ache with warmth.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The company building feels colder than usual.

Or maybe it’s just you.

Or maybe it’s the way all eight of them walk around you—not in front, not behind, but around, like some unspoken human shield.

Changbin stays on your left, shoulders squared. Hyunjin hovers on your right, one hand lightly brushing your sleeve every few steps as if to remind you he’s there. Felix walks just behind you, close enough that you can feel his comforting presence, while Jisung and Seungmin flank the back, scanning every hallway like they expect danger at any corner. Jeongin stays glued to your side, his usual playful energy replaced by quiet determination.

You’re not walking in alone.

Not anymore.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

The meeting room is already full when you enter.

Executives. Managers. Staff.

And them.

The ones responsible.

You drop your gaze immediately, heart pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears.

Chan notices right away.

His hand brushes against your arm—not obvious to anyone else, just enough pressure to ground you.

You’re here. I’ve got you, baby girl.

You sit between him and Minho.

You don’t miss how the others position themselves—close, tense, eyes scanning the room like they’re already expecting something to go wrong. Changbin sits directly across from the manager, glaring openly. Felix keeps one hand resting near yours on the table, ready to hold it the second you need it.

The door shuts.

The meeting starts.

At first, it’s all corporate.

Carefully worded sentences. Neutral tones. “Concerns.” “Clarifications.” “Internal review.”

It makes you feel sick.

Like what happened to you is being reduced to bullet points on a slide.

Until Chan speaks.

“We’re not here for a discussion,” he says, voice calm—but there’s steel underneath it that makes the entire room go still. “We’re here because one of our members was physically harmed. Repeatedly.”

No sugarcoating.

No softening.

The shift is immediate.

Some of the staff shift uncomfortably in their seats. Others glance at each other nervously.

And then,

“It seems there may have been some misunderstandings—”

“Misunderstanding?” Changbin cuts in, a bitter laugh escaping him, but there’s no humor in it at all. “You call hitting our maknae in the face a misunderstanding?”

Seungmin leans forward, eyes sharp and cold. “Would you like us to define it more clearly? Or should we show you the photos we took last night? Or some CCTV footage?”

The tension spikes so fast the air feels thick.

You shrink slightly in your seat, shoulders curling inward.

Chan notices again.

He always does.

His hand finds yours under the table, squeezing once—warm, steady, protective.

You’re safe. We’re right here.

Questions start coming your way.

Gentle at first from the executives who seem genuinely concerned.

Then more direct.

“How often did this occur?”

“Who was involved?”

“Were there witnesses?”

Your throat feels tight, the cut on your lip pulling painfully as you speak.

You answer anyway.

Quietly.

Carefully.

Every word feels like stepping on broken glass.

But you don’t stop.

Because every time your voice wavers, someone shifts closer.

Because every time you hesitate, someone’s hand tightens somewhere around you, grounding you.

Because you’re not alone anymore.

Then the names come out.

And everything changes.

The manager.

The specific staff members who had slapped, shoved, and grabbed you when the boys weren’t around.

You don’t look at them.

But you feel the way the room turns icy.

The way your eight members go dangerously still.

The manager scoffs.

Actually scoffs.

“This is being blown out of proportion,” he says, leaning back in his chair like he’s bored. “Discipline is part of training. She’s just being sensitive.”

The word hits harder than any slap.

Sensitive.

Like the pain didn’t matter. Like you didn’t matter.

Before you can even react—

“What?”

Minho’s voice is low.

Too low.

The kind that makes people freeze in place.

The manager shrugs. “I said—”

“I heard you,” Minho cuts in, slowly standing up. Controlled. “I just want to make sure everyone else in this room heard it too.”

“Sit down,” one of the executive side interjects quickly.

But it’s too late.

Because now Changbin is standing too, fists clenched at his sides.

And Jisung.

And Hyunjin.

“Discipline?” Changbin repeats, jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumps. “You think hitting her in the face is discipline?”

The room erupts.

Voices overlapping.

Tension snapping like a live wire.

You flinch hard—

And instantly, Chan is there.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, turning his body slightly toward you, blocking part of your view with his broad shoulders. One hand comes up to gently cup the side of your uninjured cheek. “It’s okay. Don’t look at him. Look at me. You’re safe.”

You nod, even though your chest is tight and your breathing is shallow.

Seungmin leans in from your other side, voice soft and trembling with restrained anger. “We’re right here, baby. He can’t touch you.”

The meeting spirals after that.

No more careful wording.

No more politeness.

Evidence gets brought up—your statements, the photos of your injuries, CCTV footages, even quiet testimonies from a couple of junior staff who had seen things but were too scared to speak before.

The company representatives start shifting sides fast when it becomes clear this isn’t something that can be buried.

You barely process most of it.

Until…

“It would be best if you step out,” one of the higher-ups tells the manager coldly.

Silence falls.

Then the scrape of a chair.

He stands.

You feel it before you see it.

That shift in the air.

Your stomach drops.

Because something about the way he moves…it’s wrong. Too angry. Too familiar.

He starts toward the door.

Then stops.

Turns.

And looks straight at you with pure venom.

Your breath catches.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters, shaking his head. “All this drama because you couldn’t handle a little pressure, you weak little—”

And then he steps toward you.

Fast.

Too fast.

Your body reacts before your brain does—you freeze completely, heart slamming against your ribs.

But you don’t even get a second to process it.

Because eight people move at once.

“Don’t—!”

Chairs scrape loudly as they shove back from the table.

Chan is in front of you immediately, his body a solid wall between you and the manager.

Minho grabs your arm gently but firmly, pulling you behind him while stepping forward.

Changbin moves like lightning, stepping directly into the man’s path, chest puffed out. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Seungmin snaps, voice sharp enough to cut glass. “Don’t you dare take another step toward her.”

The manager doesn’t stop.

“Move,” he snarls, reaching forward as if to grab you past the barrier of bodies.

And that’s it.

“Don’t touch her!”

Chan’s voice cracks through the room, loud and furious in a way you’ve never heard before—raw, protective, almost broken with rage.

He shoves the man back hard with both hands.

The room explodes into chaos.

Staff rushing in from the hallway.

People shouting.

But the boys don’t back down.

Not even a single step.

Hyunjin is instantly at your side, one arm hovering protectively in front of you while his other hand rests lightly on your shoulder, thumb stroking soothing circles. “It’s okay, love. Breathe. We’ve got you.”

Felix’s hand finds yours, gripping it so tight it almost hurts, but his voice is heartbreakingly soft. “hey, you’re safe. I promise.”

Jisung is yelling something fierce you can’t even fully hear over the noise, but his free hand is gently rubbing your back, trying to ground you.

Jeongin stands close on your other side, his usually bright eyes dark with anger as he shields you. “Stay behind us, baby.”

Minho doesn’t move an inch from his position in front of you.

He just stares the manager down like if the man takes one more step, it’s over.

“You’re done,” Minho says coldly, voice dripping with ice. “You’re not going anywhere near our maknae ever again.”

Security finally bursts in, grabbing the manager, pulling him back as he struggles and keeps shouting insults.

But his voice fades down the hallway.

The door shuts behind him.

And just like that, he’s gone.

The room falls silent again.

But it’s not the same silence as before.

This one feels… final. Like something heavy has been lifted.

You’re shaking.

You don’t even realize it until Chan turns around fully and cups your face with both hands—careful, so careful not to press on the bruise.

“Hey, baby girl,” he says, softer now, forehead almost resting against yours. “You’re okay. He’s gone. He’ll never come near you again. I swear.”

You nod, tears slipping down despite yourself.

Felix pulls you into a careful, warm hug from the side, burying his face in your hair. “We’ve got you,” he whispers, voice thick. “Always. No one hurts you and gets away with it.”

“Never again,” Jisung adds, voice still unsteady as he gently wipes your tears with his sleeve.

Changbin exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair before stepping over to ruffle your hair softly. “He shouldn’t have even gotten that close. I’m sorry we let it go this far.”

“He won’t again,” Seungmin says firmly, but his eyes are gentle when they meet yours. “We’ll make sure of it.”

Minho finally turns back to you, his hard expression melting the moment he sees your face. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, unusually tender. “Next time,” he mutters, quieter, “you don’t wait this long to tell us. Okay? We’re your family. Protecting you is our job.”

You manage a small, shaky nod.

Chan squeezes your shoulder, pulling you gently against his side. “There won’t be a next time. From now on, we’re watching every single person who comes near you. You’re safe with us. Always.”

And for the first time since all of this started, you believe him completely.

The boys stay glued to you for the rest of the day—soft touches, quiet reassurances, and fierce promises whispered whenever you look even a little scared. They cancel the rest of the schedule without hesitation.

You come first.

Always.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

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