peaches-for-han

[peaches-for-han]

Words: 386

Member: Bang Chan

The city never slept, and neither did Chan.

The rain tapped steadily against the glass as he stared out the window of his high-rise office, the skyline glittering beneath the storm. Below, the world moved fast; flashing lights, spinning wheels, briefcases and umbrellas rushing through life.

But for Chan, time had slowed. He wasn't thinking about the comback, the lyrics, or the beats.

He was thinking about you.

You have always been the calm in his chaos. When the world demanded steel and precision from him, you offered soft hands and an unwavering heart. And tonight, just like every night. You were the reason he was still standing.

You both had fought for this love. Quietly. Fiercely. Against expectations, time zones, and the brutal pressure of the lives they led. You've been there through his storms, and he had stayed through yours. You two built your love like a lighthouse, standing against every crashing wave.

So when the phone rang, and your name lit up the screen, he answered without hesitation.

“Hey,” your voice was soft, almost lost under the sound of thunder. “I know it’s late.”

“I don’t care,” he said, standing up. “Where are you?”

You hesitated. “In front of the gallery… the one we walked past on our first night.”

He didn’t wait. The umbrella stayed on the hook. His car stayed in the garage. He ran.

By the time he found you, you were soaked, your hair clinging to your cheeks, your eyes brimmed with tears, you didn't mean to cry. But when you saw him; breathless, dripping wet, and more real than the storm around you. You smiled like you've been waiting years.

“Why are you always running to me?” you whispered.

He stepped closer, cupping your face with shaking hands. “Because I will never stop.”

The two of you didn’t care about the rain, the people staring, or the world that never paused for anyone. You just stood there; hearts pressed together, warm despite the cold.

“I’ll stay with you,” he murmured, lips brushing your temple. “From dusk till dawn. Even when it’s dark. Even when it hurts.”

And with the city howling around them, you leaned into his chest, knowing what you had wasn’t fragile or fleeting.

It was something that would burn, bright and constant through every dusk and into every dawn.

[peaches-for-han]

Hi guys, I'm Peach! Obviously, I'm new here^^. I'll definitely post more with time, focusing on fluff, comfort imagines <3

So if anyone wants to be moots, I don't bite, hehe

[peaches-for-han]

Words: 367 Member: Han Jisung

The warm glow of the fireplace danced across the sleek lines of the living room; casting flickering shadows on the polished floor. Han sat on the couch, a laptop balanced on one knee, scanning through the latest lyrics files from Stray kids comeback. A few errors he’d need to fix by morning. The usual.

But after an hour of relentless focus, he allowed himself a pause.

His gaze drifted away from the screen and settled near the hearth, where you sat curled up on the fluffy rug. A thick hardcover book rested gently in your hands, your legs tucked beneath you as you leaned slightly toward the fire, bathed in its golden warmth.

Your hair, soft and loose around your shoulders, shimmered in the light, and your lips moved ever so faintly as you read in silence, completely unaware that you had just stolen his breath.

Han's chest tightened; not from stress, but from something softer, fuller. The kind of quiet awe that snuck up on him every so often, even after all their years together.

He set the laptop aside without a second thought.

Sliding off the couch, he made his way toward you and sank slowly onto the rug behind you. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin gently on your shoulder. You smiled without looking up, simply leaning back into him.

“What are you reading?” he murmured, voice low and content.

“Something romantic,” you said, glancing at him playfully. “Not as dramatic as you, though.”

He let out a soft laugh. “You like my drama.”

“I tolerate it,” you teased.

He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, eyes closing for a moment. “I don’t know how I got this lucky,” he whispered.

You closed the book, setting it aside as you turned in his arms to face him. “Maybe you didn’t,” you said, brushing your nose against his. “Maybe I’m just really bad at picking men.”

Han smiled against your lips, pulling you closer.

“No,” he said softly, “You picked perfectly.”

And with the fire crackling beside you both, he kissed you slowly, gratefully, like time could pause for just a little while longer.