i see you need requests so could you do chan x reader where he’s been on tour for a while and reader misses him like soooo much and then he surprises her by being home one night ? 🫰🫰
still here
@ bang chan & @ f!reader
ⓘ fluff ; comedy ; regular au
wc: around 950
[ @softasapril has sent you a message! : hellooo, hope this is your liking!! I really liked this one — rare event — ITS ME ITS ME]
the apartment has a specific kind of quiet when Chan is away.
you’d never noticed it before he became a permanent fixture in your life, the way a place can feel like it’s missing something without being obviously empty. everything is where it should be. his stuff is still here, his stupid oversized chair you’d complained about when he first brought it in and now exclusively sit in when he’s gone, his collection of things on the kitchen counter that don’t quite have a category. all here. just not him.
you’d been fine about it, mostly. you were always fine about it. it was a known quantity, the tours, the schedules, the time zones that made calling an exercise in math you were too tired to do at 11pm. you knew what you’d signed up for and you didn’t resent it, not really.
you just missed him. that was the whole thing. you just missed him a completely unreasonable amount for someone who was, by all accounts, a functioning adult.
your friend had told you to get a plant to cope.
the plant died in two weeks.
by week five you’d settled into a routine you were only slightly embarrassed about. dinner, the chair, whatever show you were using to avoid thinking about the time difference, asleep by eleven if you were lucky.
tonight was like that. you’d been horizontal on the couch for an hour, half watching something you’d already seen, and had at some point migrated to the bedroom and fallen asleep on top of the covers with the lamp still on, fully dressed, which was not your finest moment but also there was no one home to witness it so.
you don’t know what time it is when you hear it.
a sound. faint. from somewhere in the apartment.
you’re awake immediately in that unpleasant way, heart already going, the lamp still on and the room disorienting for a half second before your brain catches up. you lie still. listen.
another sound. the distinct specific creak of the third floorboard in the hallway, which you know because it had annoyed you for months before you just accepted it as a feature.
someone is in your apartment.
you grab the first thing within reach, which turns out to be a hardcover book, and you are fully aware this is not a weapon but you are committing to it, and you get up, and you go to the door, and you yank it open —
Chan screams.
you scream.
he drops his bag. you throw the book. it hits him in the shoulder.
“ow —”
“WHAT —”
“it’s me, it’s me, it’s —”
“CHRIS —”
“it’s me!” he’s got both hands up, half laughing, fully wincing, and he looks exhausted and travel-rumpled and real, actually real, standing in your hallway at whatever hour this is, and you stand there for a full three seconds just breathing.
“I threw a book at you,” you say.
“you did,” he agrees. “it was a big one.”
“I thought you were a burglar.”
“I live here.”
“I didn’t know that at the time.” you’re still staring at him. your heart is doing something complicated. “you didn’t tell me you were coming home.”
“it was supposed to be a surprise.” he drops his hands, and the smile he gives you is tired and warm and so familiar it does something embarrassing to your chest. “surprise.”
you cross the hallway and walk directly into him, and his arms come around you immediately, and he smells like travel and his own shampoo and you press your face into his shoulder and don’t say anything for a moment.
“hi,” he says, quietly, into your hair.
“you scared me half to death,” you say.
“I know. I’m sorry.” he doesn’t sound very sorry. “the book thing was a good instinct though. very brave.”
“shut up.”
he laughs, low, and holds you tighter, and you feel him exhale like he’s putting something down, some tension he’d been carrying, and you understand that because you’re doing the same thing.
“how long,” you say.
“ten days.”
ten days. you do the math without meaning to, already aware of how fast that will go, already not wanting to think about it.
but that’s later. that’s a problem for a different night.
“you should’ve told me,” you say, not moving. “I would’ve stayed up.”
“you were asleep at —” he checks his phone over your head. “one in the morning.”
“I would’ve stayed up,” you repeat, which you both know is not true, and he makes a sound that means he knows it too.
“the plant died again,” you say, after a second.
he pulls back just enough to look at you. “you got another one?”
“I was trying to cope.”
he stares at you for a moment, then laughs, real and warm, the tired kind that comes from somewhere genuine, and you feel it more than you hear it and you’ve missed that too, specifically that, you’d forgotten how much until right now.
“go back to sleep,” he says, steering you gently back toward the bedroom. “I’ll shower, I’ll be quiet.”
“you’re already failing at quiet.”
“that was your fault, you scared me.”
“you broke into our apartment.”
“I have a key—”
“at one in the morning—”
“it was a surprise—”
you’re both still arguing about it, low and fond, when you reach the bedroom, and Chan turns the lamp off, and outside the city does whatever the city does at this hour, and the apartment doesn’t feel quiet anymore.
Like genuinely, the ask that said your formatting was gorgeous is so RIGHT 😭 My blog isn't NEARLY is visually pleasing as yours 😭😭😭
How long does it take to make it pretty 😭
-🍮
HEHEH THANKSS.
im sure your blog iss prettyy tho!
Personally, since im a lazy person it took me some days. The most of it was thinking how could i organize it to make it pleasing to the eye, then searching the right images that blend together perfectly and fit the color palette that i had in mind.
At the start my blog was only like 2016 core and all that but then i got the idea of making it instagram like! So what took most of my time was searching images and making custom ones (the profiles on each individual masterlist) ☺️☺️☺️
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