⟡⋆ 𝒟𝒶𝓁𝒾𝒶 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

✮.⋆ She/her ⋆.✮ ⋆·˚ ༘ 18* ੈ .⋆. . ˳ 𝙸𝙽𝙵𝙿⁺୨୧˚⋆ 🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮ Written by ⭒𝟑𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐇⭒

[definitel-d4lia]

╰┈➤ Masterlist

⤷ ゛Requests open ˎˊ˗ ⋆.𐙚 ̊

────୨ৎ────

- ̗̀✮ 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 ₊˚୧‧

Fluff -> ⟡

Angst -> ꩜

Slow burn -> ꫂ ၴႅ༘

Smut -> ʚɞ

Comfort -> ❀

ot8

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ For All of Us ･ ⟡ ꩜

The Compass Between Us

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Chapter 1 ･ ⟡ ꫂ ၴႅ༘ (꩜)

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Chapter 2 ･ ⟡ ꫂ ၴႅ༘ (꩜)

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Chapter 3 ･ ⟡ ꫂ ၴႅ༘ (꩜)

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Chapter 4 ･ ⟡ ꫂ ၴႅ༘ (꩜)

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ loading…

🐺𝕭𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖓🐺

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Comfort in his arms ･ ⟡ (❀)

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ The Storm between us ･ ⟡ ꫂ ၴႅ༘ (꩜)

݁ ˖Ი𐑼⋆ Lee know

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Nothing there yet…

°★Changbinnie★°

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Nothing there yet…

*ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐻𝑦𝑢𝑛𝑗𝑖𝑛*ੈ✩‧₊˚

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Nothing there yet…

𝓗an 𝒥isung ྀིྀི🐿️

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Nothing there yet…

🐥‧₊˚✩𝓕𝑒𝒍𝒾ﾒ‧₊˚✩ 🐥

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Nothing there yet…

✩𝙎𝑒𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑚𝑖𝑛 🐶 𖦹

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Nothing there yet…

⋆⭒˚.⋆𝓙𝓮𝒐𝓷𝓰𝒾𝓷⋆⭒˚.⋆

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ Nothing there yet…

[definitel-d4lia]

The Compass Between Us - OT8 x reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Romance, Mystery

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate mark, yours never appeared. Until one day a strange compass forms on your wrist. Now the compass is pointing somewhere in the world. Somewhere your soulmate exists. And whether you’re ready or not… it’s leading you straight to them

Word count: 1132

A/N: Happy Birthday to my girly @yuna-mijat <3. Hope u guys enjoy this chapter. Have fun reading loves!

Masterlist - previous - next

Chapter 4 - Our path

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

The city continued around you—cars passing, footsteps echoing faintly against the pavement, distant voices blending into the night—but it all felt slightly out of reach, like it didn't quite belong to this moment.

Your attention stayed on him.

And on the feeling that hadn't gone away.

"I probably should have introduced myself first," he said after a second, his voice calm but not distant.

"My name is Chris. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Something about the way he said it—simple, almost careful—made it easier to breathe.

"Y/N, pleasure to meet you too." you replied.

He nodded once, like he was committing it to memory.

For a second, neither of you said anything else.

Then your gaze dropped again, almost instinctively, to your wrist.

The compass had dimmed, but it hadn't gone still.

And the dot—

The dot was still there.

You glanced back up at him.

"You're not even a little confused?"

A faint smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

"I mean," he said, "I'd be lying if I said this was normal."

That made you huff a quiet breath, something close to a laugh.

"Good. Because I was starting to think I was the only one losing it."

"You're not," he said, a little more softly this time.

The silence that followed felt easier. Less tense.

"...So what now?" you asked after a moment.

Chris glanced down the street, then back at you.

"Were you heading somewhere?"

"Home," you said.

He nodded once. "Same direction."

There was a small pause.

"I can walk with you. If that's okay."

It wasn't pushy. It wasn't hesitant either.

Just... offered.

You hesitated for a second. Then nodded.

"Yeah. Okay."

You started walking side by side.

Not too close.

Not too far.

Just enough space to still feel aware of him.

For a few steps, neither of you spoke.

Then—

"You work there?" he asked, nodding slightly back toward the restaurant.

"Yeah," you said. "Part-time. It's not that exciting, but it pays."

He smiled faintly. "That's usually how it goes."

"What about you?" you asked.

There was the slightest pause before he answered.

"I work in music."

You raised a brow slightly. "That's vague."

He laughed—quiet, but real.

"It's easier that way."

"Suspicious," you said.

"Maybe," he admitted.

You glanced at him briefly.

There was something about the way he carried himself—relaxed, but aware. Like he was used to being watched, even when no one was looking. You didn't comment on it.

"What about you?" he asked. "What are you studying?"

You told him, the words coming easier than you expected. It wasn't anything you hadn't said before, nothing particularly special—but he listened like it mattered. Actually listened. Asked small questions. Remembered details.

Somewhere between one street and the next, the conversation stopped feeling forced.

It shifted into something more natural.

"You always this calm?" you asked at one point.

Chris glanced at you. "No."

You smiled slightly. "Good. That would've been weird."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "I just... don't see the point in panicking."

"Even with all of this?" you gestured lightly to your wrist.

He looked at it briefly, then back at you.

"...Especially with this."

That answer stayed with you. After a while, your steps slowed slightly.

"You're this way?" you asked.

"Yeah," he said.

Another quiet moment passed. Then—

"You don't have to walk me all the way," you said.

"I know," he replied.

But he didn't stop. You noticed. But you didn't say anything.

Eventually, your building came into view. You slowed to a stop, turning slightly toward him.

"This is me."

Chris nodded, his gaze flickering briefly to the entrance before returning to you. For a second, neither of you spoke. Then you let out a small breath.

"...So," you started, then paused.

This felt strangely harder than everything else.

"We should probably—" you gestured vaguely between the two of you, "—figure this out."

Chris nodded slightly.

"Yeah."

Another pause. Then, more casually than you felt—

"Do you have your phone?"

He blinked once, then let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh.

"Yeah," he said, already reaching into his pocket.

The moment shifted. Lighter.

You exchanged numbers, your fingers brushing slightly as you handed the phone back. This time, the contact didn't shock you. But you felt it. Subtle. But there.

"I'll text you," he said.

"Okay."

Neither of you moved right away.

"Would u like to go on a Date...?" "Maybe...Tomorrow?" he added after a second.

Your heart skipped.

"Yeah," you said. "Tomorrow sounds good."

He nodded once.

"Get home safe," he said.

"You too."

You turned toward the entrance, taking a few steps before stopping.

Something made you glance back.

He was still there.

Watching you.

Not intensely.

Not in a way that made you uncomfortable.

Just... there.

For a second, you held his gaze.

Then you stepped inside. The door closed behind you, the quiet of the building settling around you almost immediately. You leaned back against it for a second. Your heart was still racing. Slowly, your gaze dropped to your wrist.

The compass. The dot. The needle— Still pointed toward him. Even through the walls. Your breath softened slightly.

"...Okay," you whispered to yourself.

Your phone buzzed in your hand.

A new message. Unknown number. You already knew.

Chris: Did you get inside okay?

A small smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it. You typed back.

You: Yeah. You?

The reply came almost instantly.

Chris: Still standing outside.

Your heart skipped. You turned slightly, glancing toward the door again.

"...Why?" you typed.

There was a pause this time. Longer. Then—

Chris: Just making sure you're really there.

Your chest tightened. You didn't reply right away.

Instead, your fingers brushed lightly against your wrist.

The compass pulsed once.

Soft. Steady. Like it agreed.

It felt impossible, the way your heart fluttered at the thought of him. It was supposed to be a normal walk home. Ordinary, predictable.

Instead, it had turned into... this.

This tiny, perfect, terrifying connection that made the world feel both enormous and impossibly small at the same time.

After answering Chris and wishing him a good night, you set your phone down, leaning back and closing your eyes for just a moment.

Tomorrow, he said. You weren't sure what "tomorrow" would bring—but you knew, deep down, that it was going to be important.

The compass pulsed gently beneath your skin once more.

And for the first time since it had appeared, it felt like it wasn't just pointing toward someone you would meet.

It felt like it was pointing toward something you might actually... start to understand.

Tag List: @bunbunbl0gs - @hannahdinse8 - @beppybeesnuggets - @babygirlskz98 - @katchowbbie - @yuna-mijat - @astrayapple - @emmalabo - @juju-227592 - @mysterysold - @thatgirlangelb - @iclingtolife - @sellomaybe - @fics-lovebot - @blindspotquokka - @kaleigh-2002 - @sparky2020sworld - @teffyx - @btsgangleader - @morenitakarina - @Wolfhallows4 - @skrach84 - @nemtodd-barnes1923 - @hawkins-2000 - @danielle143 - @thepoeticpurplepotato - @unenthusiasticmigraine - @donttamethebeasts - @janaethedreamer - @chasinghxran - @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal - @seungbbok - @i-am-confused-about-life - @wolfs-howling - @trippie-hippie-97 - @nikki143777 - @embobema - @applesrpeak - @purplelady85 - @clairementsolo - @xxeiraxx - @lokilockedcougar - @meloentje123 - @simpqueen2025 - @beccaskz - @tboboee - @wedontknowherorhimorthem - @skrach84 - @junebuggz - @daphnnie - @ncityswrld

A/N: If you can’t find yourself in my tag list, this could be for one of two reasons:

1. I couldn’t find your username, so I wasn’t able to tag you.

2. I simply forgot to add you (sorry!).

[definitel-d4lia]

The Compass Between Us - OT8 x reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Romance, Mystery

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate mark, yours never appeared. Until one day a strange compass forms on your wrist. Now the compass is pointing somewhere in the world. Somewhere your soulmate exists. And whether you’re ready or not… it’s leading you straight to them

Word count: 1444

A/N: Thank u for all the support! Y’all r too sweet <3 have fun reading (I’ve got my finals soon so I might not be able to post on time)

Masterlist - previous - next

Chapter 3 - Where It Leads

The day had been long in the most ordinary way. Not exhausting. Not particularly memorable. Just… full.

Your morning lecture dragged on longer than it should have, the professor’s voice blending into the background as you half-listened, half-focused on the notes in front of you. Around you, people shifted in their seats, whispered to each other, or stared blankly at their screens.

At some point, you caught yourself doing the same. Zoning out. Staring at nothing in particular. The hours passed slowly after that.

Between classes, you sat with your friends like usual, nodding along to conversations about assignments, weekend plans, and things that felt so normal they almost seemed distant. You laughed when you were supposed to, added a comment here and there, but your attention drifted more often than you liked to admit.

Not completely. Just enough to notice. Every now and then, your fingers brushed absentmindedly against your wrist before you even realized what you were doing. You would pull your hand back just as quickly, pretending nothing had happened. No one pointed it out. No one noticed. Which somehow made it easier.

By the time your last class ended, you felt strangely restless. Not anxious. Not even nervous. Just… unsettled.

Like you had forgotten something important, even though you knew you hadn’t. You told yourself it was nothing. Just one of those days. Still, the feeling followed you. Through the bus ride. Through the walk back. Through the quiet moments in between everything else.

By the time you arrived at work, you had pushed it to the back of your mind.

Or at least— You tried to.

The next time it happened, you didn’t question it—you recognized it.

Your shift had been quiet in a way that almost felt deceptive. Not slow—there were still customers, still movement, still the familiar rhythm of the restaurant carrying on like it always did. Orders came in, plates went out, and conversations filled the air in soft overlapping waves. Everything was normal. Almost too normal. You had just finished clearing a table when the feeling returned. It started as a warmth—soft, familiar.

Your hand stilled against the surface of the table, and for a moment, you didn’t move. You didn’t breathe, because you already knew.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered under your breath.

Your fingers brushed your sleeve back, revealing the compass, unchanged—except for the needle. It trembled. Your heart skipped. Not wildly, not urgently, but enough to remind you that this wasn’t something you could ignore anymore. You straightened slowly, your gaze lifting as you scanned the restaurant. Everything looked the same. Nothing stood out. Nothing explained the way your pulse had begun to pick up. Still, the feeling stayed.

You tried to continue working—you really did. You moved between tables, carried plates, refilled drinks—but your focus wasn’t where it should have been. It kept drifting. Back to your wrist. Back to the quiet pull beneath your skin. Back to the feeling that something—someone—was closer than before. It didn’t spike or demand your attention. It just lingered. Steady. Patient.

By the time your shift ended, you were more aware of it than anything else.

The air outside felt cooler than you expected. You stepped out into the night, letting the door fall shut quietly behind you as the sounds of the restaurant faded almost immediately, replaced by the distant hum of the city. Streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and the world felt still. You exhaled slowly, your fingers brushing against your wrist—but you didn’t look. Not yet. Instead, you started walking.

At first, nothing changed. Your steps were steady, your thoughts quiet, the warmth still there but distant enough to ignore if you tried hard enough.

Then it shifted.

Your breath caught.

It wasn’t just warmth anymore—it moved. Subtle, but undeniable. Your steps slowed, then stopped.

For a moment, you stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, your heart beating just a little faster than before. Slowly, carefully, you pulled your sleeve back.

The compass. The needle had changed direction. Your stomach dropped.

It wasn’t pointing forward anymore. It pointed behind you. Your breath hitched.

You didn’t turn immediately—you couldn’t. Because suddenly, everything felt too real. The silence stretched, the world around you fading into something distant and unfocused.

And then you felt it.

Not the compass. Not the warmth. Something else. A presence. Close.

“Wait.”

The voice was steady, low, and close enough to send a sharp rush of awareness through you.

Your breath caught. Slowly, you turned. And saw him. For a moment, nothing made sense.

It wasn’t dramatic—there was no sudden rush of understanding, no instant clarity that explained what you were feeling. He was just there, standing a few steps away from you, real and solid, looking at you like he had been searching for you.

Your heart stumbled. His gaze didn’t waver—not for a second. And then something shifted in his expression.

Not confusion. Not curiosity. Recognition. Your breath hitched again.

You didn’t understand it, not fully—but you felt it. The weight of it. The certainty. His eyes flickered briefly down to your wrist. Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t even realized your sleeve had slipped. The compass was visible. When his gaze returned to yours, something had changed.

“So it’s you,” he said quietly.

The words sent a strange chill through you—not questioning, not unsure but certain.

Your heart started racing.

“What?” you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

He didn’t answer immediately. For a moment, he just looked at you, like he was trying to take something in, like he was confirming something he already knew.

“I didn’t think it would feel like this,” he said, almost to himself.

Your chest tightened.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, more urgently this time, because none of this made sense—not the way he was looking at you, not the way he was speaking, not the way your pulse refused to slow down.

His gaze softened slightly, but the certainty didn’t disappear.

“You don’t know,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

Your fingers curled slightly at your sides. “Know what?”

For a moment, it looked like he was debating something, like he wasn’t sure how much to say. Then his eyes flickered again to your wrist.

The compass pulsed—sharp and sudden. Your breath caught.

“That,” he said quietly. “You’ve never seen it before, have you?”

Something in your chest tightened.

“No,” you admitted.

The word felt heavier than it should have. His expression shifted again, something softer now, something almost careful.

“It’s not just a mark,” he said.

The warmth flared. Your wrist burned. Your breath caught sharply in your throat as your fingers instinctively moved to pull your sleeve back.

The compass was glowing—faint, but undeniable. Right at the center, something flickered. Your eyes widened.

“What is that?” you whispered.

The light sharpened slightly, your pulse spiking as you stared at it. You didn’t understand—you didn’t know what was happening—but you could feel it. Something was changing. His gaze didn’t leave your wrist.

“It’s starting,” he said.

Your head snapped up.

“What is—”

The compass pulsed again, brighter this time. Your vision blurred, just for a second. And then— Something appeared. A faint shape. A small— Dot.

Glowing softly at the center of the compass. Your heart stopped.

“What—” your voice broke slightly.

You looked up at him— And found him already looking at you. Not surprised. Not confused. Like he had been expecting this.

“Yeah,” he said quietly.

Your pulse raced, your thoughts spiraling as nothing made sense and everything felt too fast, too sudden.

“What does that mean?” you asked, your voice barely steady. He held your gaze, and for the first time, something uncertain flickered in his expression.

“It means,” he said slowly— “That you found me.”

Silence fell between you. Your heart pounded as your mind struggled to catch up.

Found him?

That didn’t—

But the compass pulsed again, the dot glowing brighter. Suddenly the needle shifted again. You paused mid-breath, looked down, then back up at him.

“Wait,” you whispered, though you didn’t know what you were asking for—more time, an explanation, something to make sense of all of this. His expression softened again, like he understood.

“I know,” he said quietly. But he didn’t move. Didn’t step back. And neither did you. Because something held you there—something stronger than confusion, stronger than fear. Something that refused to let you walk away. The compass pulsed again. And the gray dot glowed brighter.

Tag List: @bunbunbl0gs - @hannahdinse8 - @beppybeesnuggets - @babygirlskz98 - @katchowbbie - @yuna-mijat - @astrayapple - @emmalabo - @juju-227592 - @mysterysold - @thatgirlangelb - @sellomaybe - @fics-lovebot - @blindspotquokka - @kaleigh-2002 - @sparky2020sworld - @teffyx - @btsgangleader - @morenitakarina - @skrach84 - @nemtodd-barnes1923 - @hawkins-2000 - @danielle143 - @thepoeticpurplepotato - @unenthusiasticmigraine - @donttamethebeasts - @janaethedreamer - @chasinghxran - @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal - @seungbbok - @i-am-confused-about-life - @wolfs-howling - @nikki143777 - @embobema - @applesrpeak - @purplelady85 - @clairementsolo - @xxeiraxx

[definitel-d4lia]

For All of Us - OT8 x reader

Genre: fluff, angst

Summary: Y/N prepares a special surprise for the group’s anniversary, but an unexpected moment creates tension. As the day unfolds, emotions run high, testing their bond.

Word count: 1402

A/N: HAPPY 8-YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!! Today is such a special day, and I just wanted to remind every Stay how proud we can be of Stray Kids. From their very beginning to now, they’ve worked so hard, grown so much, and stayed true to themselves no matter what. Eight years of passion, resilience, and love for their music and for us. We’ve watched them overcome challenges, reach incredible heights, and still remain the same genuine, chaotic, and inspiring people. Stay, we really have something special. Enjoy my loves!

Masterlist

You wake up earlier than usual. Not because you have to—but because today matters.

Eight years.

Eight boys who built something from nothing.

Eight people you love.

You glance at the empty kitchen, the quiet dorm, and smile to yourself.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Let’s do this.”

By the time they wake up, the kitchen looks like a disaster.

Flour on the counter. Batter on your sleeve. A slightly lopsided cake sitting in the center like it’s fighting for its life.

You stare at it, hands on your hips.

“…You’re trying your best,” you mutter encouragingly.

It’s not perfect. But it’s theirs.

Just like today. You check the time.

Still early. Good.

That means you can go see Chan before everyone else wakes up.

The studio door is slightly open when you arrive. You knock softly anyway. No answer. You peek inside.

He’s there—headphones on, shoulders tense, completely absorbed in the screen in front of him.

You smile.

Of course he is. You step in quietly. “Chan?”

No response.

You walk closer, leaning slightly to see what he’s working on. Layers of audio. Half-finished tracks. Notes scattered everywhere.

“Is this for the anniversary?” you ask softly.

Still nothing. You hesitate, then gently tap his shoulder.

He flinches.

Pulls off one side of his headphones, clearly startled. “Oh—hey,” he says, a bit breathless. “Didn’t hear you come in.” “Sorry,” you smile. “You looked busy.” “I am,” he admits, rubbing his face. “Deadlines.” You nod. “Is it for today?” “Partly.”

Your curiosity sparks.

“What kind of song is it?” you ask, leaning against the desk. “Is it like something emotional? Or more upbeat? Are the others on it yet? Can I hear a bit? Or is it not ready? Wait—do you need help? I could—”

“Y/N.”

His voice cuts through your words.

Sharp. You freeze. He exhales, clearly frustrated, running a hand through his hair.

“I can’t do this right now,” he says.

Your smile falters. “Do what?”

“This,” he gestures vaguely. “The questions. The talking. I’m trying to focus.”

“Oh,” you say quickly. “I was just—”

“I know you were just asking,” he interrupts, irritation slipping through. “But not everything needs commentary, okay? Some of us actually have work to do.” The words hit harder than they should.

You blink.

“I wasn’t trying to—”

“Yeah, but you always do,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes. “It’s like you don’t think before you speak sometimes.”

Silence.

Heavy. Uncomfortable.

You step back slightly.

“…Right,” you say quietly. He doesn’t notice. Or maybe he does, but he’s too caught up in his stress to stop.

“Can you just give me some space?” he adds, already turning back to his screen. That’s the last thing you hear before you leave.

The dorm feels colder when you get back. Even though nothing’s changed. You stand in the kitchen, staring at the cake. The messy counter. The little decorations you’d set aside. Your chest tightens.

It’s like you don’t think before you speak sometimes.

You swallow.

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself. “It’s fine.” He didn’t mean it. He’s stressed. You know that. You understand that.

So why does it still hurt?

You spend the rest of the day finishing everything.

Decorations go up. The cake gets fixed—well, slightly improved. You even manage to cook a proper meal, though your mind keeps drifting. You don’t go back to the studio. You don’t text him either.

You just… wait.

When the door finally opens that evening, the dorm fills with noise again. Laughter. Complaints. Shoes kicked off. “Something smells good,” Changbin calls. “Wait—what is all this?” Jeongin’s voice follows.

“Did we miss something?” Seungmin asks. You step out from the kitchen, forcing a smile.

“Happy anniversary.”

They all stop. Really look this time. At the decorations. At the table.

At you.

“…You did all this?” Felix asks softly. You shrug. “It’s your day.”

“Our day,” Hyunjin corrects gently.

Your smile wavers just a little. “Yeah,” you say. “Our day.”

Chan steps in last. His eyes land on everything.

Then on you.

And something in his expression shifts. “…You made this?” he asks quietly. You nod.

Silence stretches.

Then— “Why didn’t you tell us?” Han asks.

“Because it’s a surprise,” you say lightly.

“But you did all this alone?” Lee Know frowns.

“It’s fine,” you reply quickly. “I wanted to.”

Chan hasn’t said anything. That’s what makes it worse.

Dinner is… good.

Too good.

Everyone tries to keep the mood up, but there’s an undercurrent now. Something off. You laugh when you’re supposed to. Smile when they look at you. But you can feel it. And so can they.

Eventually, Seungmin sets his fork down.

“Okay,” he says calmly. “What happened?”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been off all evening.”

“I’m not—”

“Y/N,” Hyunjin says softly. “Please.”

Your throat tightens. You glance at Chan. He’s already looking at you. Concern written all over his face now.

Too late.

“It’s nothing,” you say again, weaker this time.

“No,” Changbin shakes his head. “It’s something.”

Silence.

You hate this.

Hate being the reason the mood shifts. Hate making today about anything else. But the words slip out anyway.

“I just… went to see Chan earlier.”

Eight pairs of eyes shift to him instantly. Chan straightens slightly. “Oh.”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you add quickly. “I just wanted to check on him and I asked a few questions and—”

Your voice falters. “I was being annoying.”

“That’s not—” Felix starts.

“It is,” you cut in softly. “He said I don’t think before I speak.”

The room goes still. Completely still. Chan’s face drops.

“I—” he starts, but nothing comes out.

“I know you didn’t mean it,” you rush to say. “You were stressed. I get it. I just… didn’t realize I was—”

“Stop.”

His voice is firm. But not sharp this time. Just… urgent.

You look at him.

He’s already shaking his head. “I did mean it,” he says quietly.

Your chest sinks.

“But I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

He stands, walking over slowly. “I was overwhelmed,” he continues. “And I took it out on you.” You don’t say anything. “I hurt you,” he says.

It’s not a question. You swallow. “…A little.”

“A lot,” Seungmin corrects under his breath. Chan exhales shakily. “Yeah. A lot.”

He steps closer. Careful. Like you might pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Simple. But heavy.

“I didn’t even realize you were doing all this,” he gestures around the room. “While I was… snapping at you.” You look down. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Lee Know says.

You glance up. He’s watching Chan, expression serious.

“You don’t get to brush it off just because you’re stressed.”

“I know,” Chan nods immediately. “We all get stressed,” Changbin adds. “We don’t talk to Y/N like that.”

Felix moves closer to you, gently taking your hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Hyunjin brushes your sleeve, voice soft. “You were just excited.” Han nods. “And curious. That’s literally you.” Jeongin tilts his head. “We like that about you.”

Your eyes sting again.

“You guys…” you mumble. Chan steps in front of you now.

“Can I?” he asks quietly.

You hesitate.

Then nod.

He pulls you into a hug. Careful at first.

Then tighter when you don’t pull away.

“I’m really sorry,” he repeats into your shoulder. Pressing soft kisses on your delicate skin.

You exhale slowly, tension leaving your body.

“…Okay,” you whisper. Behind him, the others gather closer. Until it turns into something familiar.

A group hug.

Warm. Messy. Safe. But exactly what you needed.

Eight—no— Nine hearts, all in one place.

“I love you,” Felix says softly.

“Same,” Han adds.

“Obviously,” Seungmin mutters.

You laugh weakly.

“I love you too.”

Chan pulls back slightly, looking at you. “We love you.”

“All of us,” Hyunjin nods. “Even when you ask too many questions,” Lee Know adds.

“HEY—”

Laughter breaks the tension completely this time.

Real.

Easy.

Home.

Later, the cake is finally brought out. It’s still a little crooked. The frosting uneven. But no one cares.

“This looks… questionable,” Seungmin says. “Eat it or leave it,” you shoot back. “Rude.”

Chan smiles softly as he watches you. Then reaches over and takes your hand again. “Next time,” he says quietly, “we do this together.” You squeeze his fingers. “Deal.”

Nine. Not perfect. Not always easy.

But always—

Together.

[definitel-d4lia]

The Compass Between Us - OT8 x reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Romance, Mystery

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate mark, yours never appeared. Until one day a strange compass forms on your wrist. Now the compass is pointing somewhere in the world. Somewhere your soulmate exists. And whether you’re ready or not… it’s leading you straight to them.

Word count: 1932

A/N: Since so many people liked Chapter one (I didn’t expect it to get that much attention) and said so many nice things, here is Chapter 2. I post every Monday. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the first one.

Masterlist - previous - next

Chapter 2 - A Direction

The morning after the needle moved felt no different than any other. Your alarm rang too early. The sky outside your window was still pale and quiet, the world not quite awake yet. For a few seconds, you lay there without moving, caught somewhere between sleep and consciousness.

And then you remembered. Your eyes snapped open.

Slowly, almost carefully, you lifted your wrist into the soft morning light. The mark was still there. The compass hadn’t suddenly disappeared overnight.

For a moment, you simply stared at it, your heart beating just a little faster than usual. The thin lines were just as clear as before, etched neatly into your skin like they had always belonged there.

But the needle hadn’t moved. Not even an inch. Still pointing in the same direction it had settled on the night before. A strange sense of relief and disappointment settled in your chest. It hadn’t been a dream but it also didn’t help you understand where you could find your soulmate. They could be just around the corner or on the other side of the world, and you had no way of knowing if they were even interested in meeting you.

You exhaled quietly, letting your arm fall back against the mattress.

“Where are you…?” you murmured under your breath. The room, of course, did not answer. But the weight of the question lingered.

Somewhere out there, someone existed who was connected to you by something you still didn’t fully understand.

And now, for the first time in your life…you at least had some kind of way to find them.

You didn’t dare tell another living soul about the mark. Not your friends. Not your family. No one.

You weren’t even sure why. Maybe it was because it had taken so long for your mark to appear in the first place. Maybe because a part of you was still scared it could disappear at any second, if you just looked at it the wrong way. Or maybe it was because this, whatever this was, felt like something that belonged only to you.

Something quiet. Something private.

A few days later, you found yourself standing at a crosswalk. You were on your way home from your job. Since you worked at a restaurant in the heart of Seoul, your working hours often had you coming home late.

You hadn’t planned it. You hadn’t even been thinking about the compass.

But as you waited for the light to turn green, your fingers brushed absentmindedly against your wrist, and just like that, your focus snapped back to it.

Slowly, you pulled your sleeve back. The needle pointed straight ahead. You followed its direction with your gaze. The street stretched forward, lined with unfamiliar shops and dimly lit windows. It wasn’t the way you usually went.

Your route home was behind you now. You must have taken a different turn without noticing. A small, almost nervous laugh escaped you.

“Great”, you murmured. Had you really started doing that already? Letting something you couldn’t even understand guide your steps?

Still… you didn’t turn around right away. Instead, you stood there for a moment longer, staring down the path the compass had chosen. There was nothing special about it.

Nothing that stood out. Just another street. Another ordinary piece of the city. And yet, your chest felt tight. Not in a bad way.

Just… unfamiliar. Like something inside you was quietly urging you forward. Just one step, it seemed to say. Just one. You hesitated.

Suddenly someone hurrying past you bumped your shoulder snapping you out of your trance, finally noticing your surroundings. People moved around you, crossing the street without a second thought. And just like that, the moment slipped away.

You turned, following the flow of the crowd back toward the path you knew.

But the feeling didn’t fade completely.

When you got home that evening, the apartment was quiet. Not unusually so, just the soft, familiar kind of quit that settled into the walls when no one else was around. The faint hum of electricity, the distant sound of traffic outside, the occasional creak of the floor as you moved through the space. You dropped your bag by the door and slipped your shoes off absentmindedly.

For a moment, you just stood there. Still. Like you weren’t entirely sure what to do next. Then, almost without thinking, you walked into the kitchen.

The overhead light flickered on, filling the room with a soft yellow glow. You leaned back against the counter, exhaling slowly as the events of the day caught up to you. Your wrist felt warm again. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to notice. Your fingers curled slightly before you pushed your sleeve up. The compass stared back at you.

Unchanged. The same delicate lines. The same steady needle, pointing in that one, unwavering direction. You frowned faintly.

It felt different here. Earlier, outside, the compass had seemed like something distant—something abstract, tied to a world beyond your immediate reach. But here, in the quiet familiarity of your own home…

It felt closer. More real. More… personal. Your thumb brushed lightly over the mark.

“Do you ever stop?” you murmured. The needle didn’t react. It didn’t need to. It wasn’t uncertain. It wasn’t searching. It already knew exactly where it was going. You let out a small breath, your gaze drifting toward the window above the sink. The city lights had already been on for quite some time, scattered like distant stars across the dark skyline. Somewhere out there.

That was all you had. A direction. No distance. No answers. Just… somewhere.

Your grip on the edge of the counter tightened slightly.

“Am I supposed to follow you?” you asked quietly. The question lingered in the air, unanswered.

For a moment, you imagined it—grabbing your things, stepping out the door, letting the compass guide you without hesitation.

Walking in that direction until something happened. Until you found them. Until everything made sense.

The idea sent a strange mix of excitement and unease through your chest. It felt too big. Too sudden. Too much.

You weren’t ready for that. Not yet. Your shoulders relaxed slightly as you exhaled, shaking your head. “Yeah… no,” you muttered softly. Not like that. Not all at once. Your eyes dropped back to the compass.

The needle remained steady. Patient. Like it had all the time in the world. And maybe it did.

You reached for a glass, filling it with water just to have something to do with your hands. The normalcy of the motion grounded you. Helped quiet the restless thoughts swirling in your mind. You took a sip, leaning your hip against the counter again.

“I’ll figure it out,” you said after a moment, your voice quieter now.

More certain. Not rushed. Not pressured. Just… steady. “I just need time.”The compass didn’t move.

But for the first time since it had appeared— It didn’t feel like it was waiting for something to happen. It felt like it was waiting for you.

After that night, you made a quiet decision. You wouldn’t chase it.

As tempting as it was to follow the compass—to let it guide your every step and unravel the mystery all at once—you knew yourself well enough to understand that it would only overwhelm you.

So instead, you chose to wait. To let things happen the way they were meant to. The compass wasn’t going anywhere. And neither, presumably, was the person it pointed to. So you let it be.

You stopped checking it every few minutes. Stopped lingering at intersections, wondering what if. Stopped letting your thoughts spiral into endless possibilities you had no answers for. Life settled again.

Not exactly the same as before—but close enough. The compass became something quiet. Something present, but not demanding. Like a thought at the back of your mind you didn’t need to chase anymore.

A few days later, you were working a late shift at the restaurant. It was one of those evenings where everything blurred together—the clatter of dishes, the low hum of conversations, the constant movement of people coming and going. Orders were called out, glasses clinked, chairs scraped softly against the floor.

Normal. Busy. Distracting. Exactly what you needed.

You were wiping down a table near the window when it happened.

That feeling. It came suddenly.

Not strong enough to hurt—but unmistakable.

A warmth spread across your wrist, sharp enough to make your hand still mid-motion. Your breath caught slightly. For a second, you didn’t move. You didn’t need to look. You already knew.

Slowly, you set the cloth down on the table, your fingers curling slightly as the sensation lingered. It felt… familiar. Too familiar.

Your sleeve brushed against your wrist as you pushed it back just enough to see.

The compass.

The needle hadn’t changed direction. But it wasn’t completely still. It trembled. Just slightly. Your heart started beating faster.

The same feeling. The exact same one you had felt that day on the street—when you had stopped, when the world had seemed to pause for just a moment, when something inside you had quietly urged you forward.

Follow me.

You swallowed. This wasn’t random. It couldn’t be. Something was different. Someone was—

Your thoughts cut off as a sudden laugh echoed from across the room, pulling your attention up instinctively. Your eyes scanned the restaurant. Tables filled with people. Strangers. Conversations overlapping. Nothing unusual.

And yet—

The feeling didn’t go away. If anything, it deepened. Your grip tightened slightly against the edge of the table. Your pulse quickened. The compass trembled again. Just for a moment. Then stilled.

Like it was waiting.

Your gaze drifted slowly across the room once more, more deliberate this time. Something—or someone—was here.

You could feel it. Not clearly. Not enough to understand. But enough to know this wasn’t nothing.

Not anymore. A voice called your name from behind the counter, breaking the moment.

“Can you take table five?”

You blinked, the world snapping back into focus.

“Yeah—yeah, one second,” you replied automatically.

When you looked down again, the compass was steady.

Quiet.

As if nothing had happened at all. You hesitated. Just for a second. Then you pulled your sleeve back down. Your steps felt slightly off as you moved through the restaurant again, your attention split between your surroundings and the lingering feeling beneath your skin. Something had changed. You didn’t know what. You didn’t know who.

But right now? It didn’t feel far away anymore.

Long after your shift ended, the feeling still hadn’t fully faded. It lingered faintly, like an echo you couldn’t quite place. Like something unfinished.

You stood outside the restaurant for a moment before heading home, the cool night air brushing against your skin. Your fingers brushed lightly against your wrist. The compass rested beneath your sleeve.

Still. Unmoving. Pointing forward.

You glanced down the street without thinking, your gaze following the direction you knew the needle pointed.

You exhaled slowly, your hand dropping back to your side. For a moment, you considered it. Taking a step. Just one.

But instead, you stayed where you were. Not yet.

It wasn’t the right time. But you knew that it would come sooner than you thought.

Tag List: @bunbunbl0gs - @hannahdinse8 - @beppybeesnuggets - @babygirlskz98 - @katchowbbie - @yuna-mijat - @astrayapple

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the Tag List :)

[definitel-d4lia]

The Compass Between Us - OT8 x reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Romance, Mystery

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmate mark, yours never appeared. Until one day a strange compass forms on your wrist. Now the compass is pointing somewhere in the world. Somewhere your soulmate exists. And whether you’re ready or not… it’s leading you straight to them.

Word count: 1371

A/N: I hope you’ll enjoy this one my loves :)

Masterlist - next

Chapter 1 – The Mark

You had always been drawn to the idea of soulmates.

Maybe it was the way people whispered about them in stories, their voices lowering like they were talking about something sacred. Or maybe it was the way your father would sigh softly and look at your mother with a quiet tenderness that made his eyes glimmer.

The way they still looked at each other after all those years—like two people who had found something rare and irreplaceable.

Like two people who had found their home in each other.

You had noticed it even when you were younger. The small, absentminded gestures. The way your father would reach for your mother’s hand while they walked, even when they weren’t paying attention. The way she would smile at him without saying a word.

It was simple.

Natural.

Effortless.

That was what people said soulmates were like. Or maybe your fascination came from somewhere else entirely. Maybe it was because, in a world where soulmates existed, you were one of the few people who still hadn’t found yours.

Soulmate bonds weren’t unusual. In fact, they were completely normal. Almost everyone had some kind of sign.

Some people had red strings invisibly tied around their pinkies, threads of fate, that tightened whenever their soulmate was near. Others shared pain, wincing at injuries they themselves had never received. There were people with countdowns on their wrists, glowing numbers slowly ticking toward the moment they would finally meet the person destined for them.

A girl in one of your classes had words written across her collarbone—the first sentence her soulmate would ever say to her. Another student had a small constellation of freckles across his shoulder that matched his soulmate’s exactly.

Everyone had something.

Everyone had a sign.

Except you.

For years, your skin had stayed stubbornly blank while the people around you discovered their marks one after another. You still remembered the excitement the first time it happened in your class back in school. One morning a boy had come in with glowing numbers on his wrist, and by lunchtime half the school was gathered around him, asking questions and making jokes about how he’d probably meet his soulmate before graduation.

After that, it seemed to happen more and more often. Marks appearing during class. During lunch. During completely ordinary moments that suddenly became unforgettable.

At first, you had waited patiently for your own sign to appear. You checked your wrists every morning out of habit, half expecting something to be there. But year after year, there was nothing. You learned to pretend it didn’t bother you. You laughed along with your friends when they talked about their soulmate marks. You shrugged whenever someone asked about yours.

“Maybe it’s just late,” people would say reassuringly.

“It’ll show up eventually.”

You always nodded and smiled. But deep down, a quiet doubt had begun to grow. What if the universe had simply… forgotten you?

The thought had crossed your mind more than once, usually late at night when everything was quiet and your thoughts had too much room to wander. You tried not to dwell on it.

Still, the feeling lingered.

And then, one ordinary afternoon, everything changed.

You were sitting in your last lecture of the day, half-listening to the professor as he spoke about something you had already forgotten.

Your notebook lay open in front of you, though your pen had long since stopped moving.

The sun was beginning to set outside the tall windows of the lecture hall, filling the sky with deep shades of red and purple. The colors bled into each other like watercolor across the clouds, soft and beautiful.

It was the kind of sunset that made it hard to focus on anything else.

Your gaze drifted outside more than once, watching the light slowly shift across the horizon.

That was when you felt it.

A strange tingling sensation prickled across your wrist.

At first, you barely reacted. You assumed it was just irritation from your bracelet, which had already been rubbing against your skin while you were taking notes earlier. Without thinking, you rubbed the spot absentmindedly. The professor’s voice continued droning on somewhere in the background.

But the feeling didn’t fade. If anything, it grew stronger.

The tingling spread slowly beneath your skin, warm and buzzing, like tiny sparks dancing along your nerves. It made you shift slightly in your seat, a small frown forming on your face.

That definitely wasn’t normal.

You rubbed your wrist again, expecting the feeling to disappear.

It didn’t.

Instead, a strange warmth settled beneath your skin, pulsing softly.

Your attention finally snapped away from the window.

Carefully, you pulled your sleeve up.

And froze.

A faint mark had appeared on the inside of your wrist.

For a moment, you simply stared at it, your brain struggling to catch up with what your eyes were seeing.

The mark was circular, formed from thin, delicate lines that curved into a precise shape. It looked almost like an old compass carved directly into your skin. Tiny symbols and markings lined the outer edges, perfectly symmetrical. And at the very center rested a thin needle.

Your breath caught.

Your soulmate mark had finally appeared.

After all these years.

But it wasn’t anything you had ever seen before.

You glanced around the lecture hall instinctively, half expecting someone else to notice. But everyone seemed focused on their own notes or staring at the board. No one was looking at you.

Your eyes drifted back to the mark.

The needle didn’t move. It simply rested there, quiet and still.

Pointing nowhere.

For the first few days after the compass appeared, you checked it constantly.

After waking up.

During lectures.

On the bus ride home.

While brushing your teeth.

Before going to sleep.

Sometimes you caught yourself staring at it without even realizing it, tracing the delicate lines with your fingertips. Anyone would be curious if a soulmate mark suddenly appeared after years of nothing. Still, the excitement slowly faded into something quieter.

Something closer to nervous anticipation.

The compass didn’t disappear. If anything, it became clearer.

The thin lines sharpened as the days passed, darkening slightly against your skin. Sometimes it pulsed faintly beneath your fingers, warm and alive, as if it were gently reminding you that it existed. As if it were waiting for something.

Waiting for someone.

You searched the internet more than once, trying to find someone else with a similar mark. But you never found anything quite like it. Compasses weren’t common soulmate signs.

At least, not that you could find.

Eventually you stopped looking.

But the question stayed in the back of your mind. A compass always pointed somewhere.

The real question was—

Where?

Late one night, you lay in bed, your room illuminated only by the pale glow of moonlight slipping through the curtains. The world outside was quiet. The kind of quiet that made every small sound seem louder—the soft rustle of sheets, the distant hum of traffic somewhere far away, the steady ticking of the clock on your wall. You turned onto your side, staring absently at the ceiling.

Without thinking, you lifted your wrist and studied the mark again. The compass looked almost silver in the moonlight.

Then the needle quivered.

You blinked. For a moment, you wondered if your eyes were just playing tricks on you.

Then the needle moved again.

You sat up immediately, your heart skipping as you leaned closer to the faint light spilling across your arm. The tiny needle slowly shifted.

Just slightly. It turned to the left.

And then it stopped.

Pointing firmly in one direction.

Your heart began to race. A compass always pointed somewhere.

Which meant— somewhere out there… the person the universe had chosen for you existed.

Your soulmate.

For a long moment you simply sat there, staring at the tiny needle on your wrist. The realization settled slowly in your chest, warm and unfamiliar.

After years of wondering… after years of waiting…

You weren’t alone anymore.

Somewhere in the world, someone existed who was connected to you by something bigger than coincidence.

Something bigger than chance.

And somehow—your mark had just begun to lead you toward them.

[definitel-d4lia]

The Storm between us - Bangchan x reader

Pairing: idol!Chan x manager!f!Reader

Genre: fluff, slow burn, kind of angst

Summary: Heart pounding, you find comfort in Chan's presence during a stormy night.

Word count: 1113

A/N: Have fun reading my loves :)

Masterlist

Thunder cracked.

Loud, violent. Close.

You flinched, heart pounding as you sat frozen in the unfamiliar dorm bedroom. The temporary accommodation for Stray kids' latest MV shoot was beautiful - modern, sleek, way too quiet - and right now, it felt like a haunted house during a hurricane.

You hated thunderstorms. Always had. Always will be. And being somewhere new, in a strange bad, far away from your comfort zone. Your anxiety was shooting through the roof. Another flash of Lightning shot through the sky and lit up the entire room, followed by a deep, earth-shaking rumble.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to stay put. Just breathe. You're the manager. Your supposed to be composed. You're supposed to be-

BOOM!

You practically jumped out of the bed. That was it. Clutching your blanket like a security shield, you padded barefoot into the hallway, heart thudding like the storm outside. You weren't even sure where exactly you were heading, you only knew, that you needed to be around someone.

The closest door next to your own was slightly open, revealing the warm light spilling out of it. You hesitated. Slowly you raise your hand to knock gently on the door.

"Come in," came a quiet voice - raspy, deep, familiar. You slowly pushed the door open.

Bang Chan.

Messy hair, oversized hoodie, sitting on the floor of his room with his laptop resting on the bed, headphones pushed off one ear. His eyes widened when he saw you, wrapped up like a burrito, looking like you've seen a ghost. "Y/N?"

You froze "Oh I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to - uh - I can leave -"

"No no no - Come in." He stood up immediately, concern flashing across his face. "What's wrong? Did something happen?" You gripped your blanket even tighter. "Well not really...it's kinda embarrassing and really stupid but - uhm - well i get really really REALLY anxious during thunderstorms and well I - I didn't want to be alone."

Chan's expression softened instantly. "It's not stupid. Everyone is scared of something. That's normal." His Voice dropped, calm and soothing. "C'mere."

He led you to sit beside him on the bed and without thinking he reached for the blanket you clutched and gently tugged it around both of you. The warmth of his body next to yours, the soft scent of his cologne - it all wrapped around you, making you relax into his touch.

The storm continued to rage outside, but with the leader of the group next to you, it didn't feel as scary as it did just a few minutes ago.

"Does it help if I talk to you to distract you?" he asked. You nodded. So he did.

He told you about the funny behind-the-scenes moments from the shoot earlier that day, how Changbin almost tripped over a prop, how Sungmin secretly took photos of the sleeping Hyunjin. You found yourself laughing quietly through your nerves. Eventually, without realizing, you leaned your head against his shoulder. He didn't move.

Hours passed. The storm began to fade. So did your anxiety. Somewhere between the vibration of his voice in your ear and the warmth of his welcoming arms around you, you drifted into sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open. You were still in Chan's room. Still in his bed. Still in his arms.

Your heart panicked before your mind could catch up. You shot up quietly, untangling yourself from him, cheeks burning as you grabbed your blanket and slipped out of the room feeling like a criminal.

You avoided him for three days. Excuses. Quick exists. "I'm busy" texts. You even pretended to fall asleep early once. Chan was patient...but most certainly not blind.

Day four.

He cornered you outside the dressing room after rehearsals, just before dinner.

"Y/N?" he said gently, blocking your path. You looked up. Dammit. "I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" He asked, tilting his head slightly. "You've been avoiding me since the storm." You looked away, not wanting to look into his sad eyes. "No you didn't. I just- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things weird." "Is that what you think it is? Weird?"

You bit your lip. "You were just being nice. I shouldn't have...I mean, I shouldn't have come into your room like that." "Y/N." His voice was firmer now. "You could come into my room a hundred more times, and I wouldn't mind. I'd want you to."

Your breath caught.

Chan took a step closer. "I meant what i said. You're not stupid for being scared. And I didn't stay up with you because i felt bad - I stayed because i wanted to. Because i care."

You blinked up at him. He hesitated...then added softly, "And maybe I - how do i say this - Well I've kind of liked you since the first week we met, so that night wasn't weird for me. It just felt... right."

You stared into his glowing red face, heart racing, trying to find something else than honesty in his innocent hopeful eyes.

Than slowly - quietly - you smiled. "I thought I was the only one"

Now it was his turn to go wide-eyed. You took a small step forward. "I've liked you to Channie. For quite a long time actually. I just didn't think you'd ever..."

"I do" he said immediately.

Silence. But not the awkward kind. The full, charged kind.

Chan looked into your eyes, searching. "Can I...?" He said while his eyes dropped to your lips. You nodded before he even finished the sentence.

And just like that - he leaned in, slowly, giving you every second to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn't. Your heart was pounding, but not with fear anymore - with something warmer. Brighter.

When his lips finally met yours, it was nothing like you'd imagined.

It was better.

Soft. Careful. Full of every emotion he hadn't said out loud until now. His hand gently cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing your cheek as if you might disappear if he wasn’t careful enough.

The kiss deepened, only slightly, and your hands found their way to the back of his Head, going through his soft Hair, slightly pulling on it, while his other hand wandernd to your Lower back pulling you closer.

When you finally pulled apart, foreheads resting together, both of you breathless, he smiled - the kind of smile that made your chest ache in the best way.

"You know.." he murmured, brushing your hair behind your ear, "you can come to me anytime. Storm or not."

You laughed softly. "I think I might come to you a lot."

"Good," he whispered, pressing one last kiss on your forehead. "Because I don't plan on letting you go anytime soon."

[definitel-d4lia]

Comfort in his arms - Bangchan x reader

Pairing: bf!Chan x menstruating f!reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Chan comes home to see u in pain

Word count: 343

A/N: I hope you’ll enjoy it my Loves :) If you have any specific ideas or wishes, feel free to dm me

Masterlist

You groand softly, curling up on the couch as another wave of cramps rolled through your body. The heating pad on your stomach was barely helping, and all you wanted was to disappear under a mountain of blankets and plushies. 

"Y/N??" Bang Chan's soft voice called from the hallway. A second later, he peeked into the living room, a gentle but concerned smile spreading across his face when he saw you bundled up like a burrito. "You okay pretty girl?"

You shook your head slightly, not trusting yourself to speak without sounding like you were in agony. Chan crossed the room in seconds, crouching beside the couch.

"Oh my darling...Is it your period?" he asked, already brushing your hair out of you face with warm, calloused fingers.

You nodded, lips trembling. "I feel like it's worse than usual." Without a word he pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood up. "I'll be right back."

You expected him to disappear into the bathroom or bedroom, but instead, he came back a few minutes later holding a tray of your favorite tea, a small bowl of fruit, a new heating pad and even a bar of your Favourite snack.  

"Channnn..." you whispered, eyes wide. "I've seen you push through so much. You deserve to rest my love. Let me take care of you."

He gently helped you sit up, replacing the old heating pad and tucking the fuzzy Wolf Chan blanket back around you. Then he sat behind you, pulling you against his chest and resting his chin on your shoulder. "Big hug!" He whisper yells next to your ear, making you giggle. 

"I hate seing you in pain" he murmured, rubbing slow circles on your belly. "But I'll be right here the whole time."

You leand even closer into him, heart full despite the discomfort in your stomach. With his arms around you, everything felt just a little more bearable. 

"I love you Channie."

"I love you too Princess"

Maybe Period sucked, but having Chan by your side? That made all the difference.