Backstage before a world tour show was supposed to be chaotic. Loud. Staff running around, members getting mic checks, stylists yelling last-minute fixes—yeah, the usual madness.

And it was.

Just… not where he was.

Chan was crouched down right in the middle of it all, completely tuned out from everything else, focused on one tiny human standing in front of him like she ran the entire damn place.

Bang Haneul. Three years old. And already bossy as hell.

“Hold still, baby—yeah, just like that…” he murmured softly, big hands impossibly gentle as he adjusted the tiny noise-canceling headphones over her ears.

They looked almost too big on her. But she refused to take them off. Because apparently—she needed them. Not for the music. Not for the show.

But so she could hear only him.

Her father.

Because the crowd was gonna be loud as fuck—thousands and thousands of STAYs screaming—and she didn’t like that. Said it was “too much.” Said she only wanted to hear “Appa’s voice.”

And yeah—Chan didn’t even argue. Didn’t hesitate. He got them for her immediately.

“There we go…” he adjusted them one last time, thumbs brushing softly over the sides to make sure they sat comfortably.

“Can you hear me okay?” he asked, voice dropping instinctively—gentler, softer than anything he used on stage.

“Yes.” Haneul nodded seriously, tiny hands coming up to touch the headphones like she was double-checking them herself.

Chan smiled at that—wide, dimples showing, that whole wolfish charm completely gone for a second.

Because right now? He wasn’t the leader of anything.

He was just her dad.

And then she stepped forward.

Small arms wrapping around his neck, hugging him without warning.

“Appa… do well.” her voice came out soft, slightly muffled through the headphones—but clear enough.

And fuck—

That did something to him.

His entire posture shifted. Shoulders dropping, expression softening instantly, like every bit of pressure, every expectation from the stage outside just… disappeared.

His arms came up around her without hesitation, pulling her close, one hand cradling the back of her head carefully so the headphones didn’t shift.

“Yeah… I will.” he murmured quietly against her hair, voice low, almost a promise.

For a second, he just stayed there. Holding her. Breathing her in like he needed that moment more than anything before going out there.

And of course—

They were not alone.

“—Oh my god, I’m gonna lose it.” Jisung whispered loudly from the side.

“That’s actually illegal, what the hell—” Hyunjin added, clutching his chest like he was personally attacked.

“Bro, I can’t—she said ‘do well’—I’m done.” Changbin groaned, turning away like he couldn’t handle it.

“Stop, stop, I’m actually gonna cry—” Felix chimed in, already smiling way too hard.

“Appaaaa~” Jeongin mocked softly, but he was grinning just as much as the rest of them.

Meanwhile—

Minho and Seungmin? Just stood there, fixing their own earpieces like they weren’t about to explode from secondhand cuteness, both of them smiling quietly like they’d seen this a hundred times and it still got them.

Chan finally pulled back slightly, hands still resting on Haneul’s shoulders, eyes scanning her face like he was memorizing it.

“Stay with Mama, okay?” he said gently.

She nodded.

Of course she did.

And through all of it—

You were just sitting on the sofa nearby, watching.

Watching your three-year-old daughter hype up her father before a world tour performance like it was the most normal thing in the world. Watching your boyfriend—this insanely talented, respected, strong man—completely melt into something softer, quieter, just for her.