#bangchan

[blackr23]

🐺💭[260729] 23:48 PM KST

Today was soooooo fun ㅠㅠ ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ

Not just the fan-featuring, but everyone was singing EVERY part...?!

And everyone went crazy jumping with us

It was one of the best moments I've had recently ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ

[bilyana-bang]

[bilyana-bang]

[drivewithchan]

Forbidden

​Pairing: Bang Chan x f!reader

Content: Smut, Alpha Bang Chan, knotting, unprotected sex, creampie, infidelity (not between the main pair)

​In a world dominated by recessive wolves, being an Omega or an Alpha was a rarity. The stereotypes—both bad and good—surrounding the two dynamics were widely known, but you were a proud Omega and never hid your status.

​Married to an important politician, your life consisted of shopping trips and lunches at upscale places, until one day you met him.

​Bang Chan was at a renowned restaurant in the city center for a business lunch. Dressed in an imported, black three-piece suit, he was focused on the conversation he was having with his business partners. You were nearby, and it would have been an entirely ordinary, uninteresting scene if not for the amazingly uncommon scent you picked up coming from his table.

​As an Omega, you were very sensitive to scents, but this one in particular was getting to you. It was rich, full-bodied, making your skin tingle—a scent of woody whiskey with a hint of mint, so layered with nuances that it couldn't have come from an ordinary wolf. Nor from an Omega; you had met other Omegas before, and their scents were never as alluring as this one. You, however, had never met an Alpha, and you began to feel deep down that you were smelling an Alpha's scent. Biology worked its magic: upon identifying a compatible Alpha, your body released its sweet scent much stronger than usual. Honey and grapes filled the room, as scent blockers were a thing of the past—no longer in use due to how rare active Omega and Alpha traits were. As soon as your Omega scent took over the space, Bang Chan's head snapped toward you, drawn to the aroma that only he could feel with such intensity, and that was the undoing of you both.

​Bang Chan was also married, a renowned CEO of a biotechnology company. For a time, you both tried to resist the biological connection and attraction between you, but it was in vain. He always sought you out, and you always gave in. Months passed, and you became lovers. You never got over the adrenaline of meeting him every Wednesday and Friday.

​"You look beautiful today, my Omega," he said, his voice deep and raspy as soon as you stepped through the door of the suite in a new dress you had bought especially for him.

​"Channie..." Your voice was nothing more than a needy whimper as you rushed into his arms, burying your nose into the side of his neck. "I missed you. Sleeping without you has been so uncomfortable these past few weeks."

​He let out a soft huff, smiling at how clingy you were.

​"I told you, whenever you want to get a divorce and stay with me, I'm waiting," he said, kissing your hair and breathing in your scent. You swallowed hard.

​"I know you said that, but I wasn't confident before. Not in you, but in myself to follow through with that decision. But now, all I want is to be with you."

​Bang Chan stayed quiet for a moment. He dragged his nose across your cheek, heading straight for your scent gland and giving it a quick lick.

​"I'm crazy about your scent," he finally murmured. "If you're sure about this, I'll be waiting. I told you my marriage was just one of convenience; there's no affection between us, so a divorce won't be an issue for me. But I know you married your best friend, and I understand if it takes you a bit more time."

​"Baby, my best friend is you now." Your bold hands were already unfastening his tie. "Of course I care for Jay, but ever since I met you, you've filled every space a man could ever fill in my life."

​"I like hearing that, sweetheart. For me, you're the first and only one." Your hands slid across his newly exposed chest, making him let out a low groan. "Of course, you being an Omega is a huge part of it—my Alpha goes crazy wanting to knot you and sink his teeth into this beautiful little neck. But you are also an incredible woman."

​You blushed, your cheeks flushing red as a gentle smile spread across your face.

​"Speaking of knotting me... I want a knot, Alpha," you pouted. "It feels like an eternity since I last felt you stretching me to the limit."

​"You're such a dirty, insatiable girl, Omega," he teased with a smirking grin. "I filled you up two days ago."

​"It wasn't enough. It's never enough. I need you every day—I want to spend my life wrapped around your knot," your voice trembled as you scattered kisses down his neck.

​"Then be a good girl and take off your clothes for me, alright? Undress and lay on the bed. Your Alpha is going to take care of you."

​Eagerly, you untied the straps of your dress, letting it fall, followed by your shoes and lingerie. Bang Chan watched the whole process, his cock hardening against his trousers. Once you were completely naked and moved toward the bed, he began taking off his own clothes, and it was your turn to admire him. He was strong and masculine, built with incredible proportions, and you were in love with every inch of him. As he pulled off his boxers, his hard shaft sprang free—long, thick, and viril, making your mouth go dry. He was your Alpha, and he was going to fill you up so completely, plumping your tummy with a big, delicious knot. You pressed your legs together, squeezing your center as you felt your endless slick start to drip.

​"No, don't do that," he scolded softly, stepping closer to the bed. "Keep your legs open, sweetheart. I need to see this sweet little pussy of yours."

​"Channie..." you whimpered softly, finally spreading your legs for him. He stood there for a moment just watching you, drinking in the sight that acted like an aphrodisiac for him.

​"So delicious. My woman is so fucking delicious." You couldn't hold back a groan; being the sole object of your Alpha's desire felt intoxicating, comforting your inner wolf to her core.

​Slowly, he climbed onto the bed, hovering over you. His lips trailed along your neck while one of his hands roamed over your body. You opened your legs wider, settling him between them. His cock pressed against your warm center, making you gasp.

​He captured your mouth, kissing you with deep passion. His thick tongue claimed yours in an eager, precise rhythm, making your head spin with the intensity of the kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down onto you. You wanted to feel all of him—every inch and every bit of his weight. You didn't care that he was larger and heavier; being pinned beneath him and his heat was heaven.

​"Slow down, baby," he broke the kiss, whispering against your lips. "You're so small, I don't want to crush you."

​You were relentless, pulling him closer, rubbing yourself against him, restless, eager, and needy.

​"I want you... I need to feel you," your eyes began to fill with tears. You felt so sensitive; he was your Alpha, and those two days apart had hurt so much. "I missed you, Alpha. Please, hurry."

​Bang Chan kissed your eyelids, wiping away the few stray tears, and smiled down at you warmly.

​"I know, baby. You're so needy." He lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his hip, and slid smoothly inside you.

​After so many months, the fit was seamless, aided by how wet you became for him—slick dripping down your thighs and soaking into the sheets. Feeling him inside you brought a rush of pure completeness, and a long, drawn-out moan escaped your lips.

​"You take me so well, beautiful," he rasped out. "I'm going to move, okay?"

​You nodded, keeping your eyes locked on his face. His sharp, handsome features were twisted in focus and pleasure. He grunted as he began to pick up the pace inside you. It was amazing how he hit every single right spot, his massive cock stretching you right to the edge of pleasure and pain, inducing a feeling you had never experienced with anyone else. You wrapped your limbs tightly around him, your heavy breasts with erect nipples rubbing against his broad chest, the friction driving you wild. Your gasps and panting grew frantic.

​"So good, Channie... oh my God!" Your clouded eyes rolled back in pleasure. He grazed his teeth against your scent gland, sending a shockwave through your whole body.

​"You have no idea how badly I want to bite you," his voice sounded deep, guttural, clearly trying to hold himself back. His eyes flashed red, showing his wolf was right at the surface. "You drive me crazy, princess. I can't stand spending another night without you."

​You whimpered at his words, crying out even louder when he struck a deep, sensitive spot inside you. You were trembling as waves of intense pleasure surged through you, your walls pulsing and clamping tightly around his shaft.

​"Fuck, beautiful..." He smirked weakly. "Are you going to come for me? Are you going to come on my cock? If you come for me right now, I'll give you my knot."

​His cock twitched inside you, and you could feel the base beginning to swell. He gently nipped at your scent gland—without breaking the skin—and that was all it took to push you over the edge. Your body convulsed, your mind went blank, and your cries echoed through the room. Before you could even recover, he poured himself deep inside you, his knot swelling larger and filling you up to an almost overwhelming degree.

​"Alpha..." you whimpered softly, burying your nose into his neck to breathe in his comforting, familiar scent.

​"Shh, I've got you," he reassured you. "You were such a good girl for me, taking my knot so well."

​He carefully rolled onto his side, pulling you tight against his chest so you both could lie comfortably while waiting for the knot to go down. He stroked your back and showered sweet kisses over your face while you sighed in pure contentment.

​"Chan?" you called out softly after a quiet moment.

​"Hm?"

​"I'm going to tell my husband everything tonight. I've made up my mind."

​He looked at you intently, his expression melting into a gentle, loving smile.

​"Then I'll break the news to Jieun about our divorce tonight, too."

[blackr23]

🐺💭[260729] 16:28 PM KST

My throat is still in bad shape... but I'll do my best today too... ㅠ

I have a bruise on my vocal cords... ㅠ

But I'm still going to push through it like I did on Sunday!

🐺💭[260729] 16:29 PM KST

Will that make it worse...? Hahaha

Nah, I still have to sing ㅡㅡ

For the STAYs coming today

See you soooon

[drivewithchan]

My Young Wife

It was a Saturday morning, and you were lying on a blanket in the garden of your massive home. You were pretending to read a book while secretly watching your husband tend to the roses.

​You and Christopher had been married for a year. It was an arranged marriage between your families. You were the daughter of his parents' business partners, and he was an independent, successful CEO in the field of artificial intelligence—though he still obeyed his parents. So when they told him he had to get married, he didn't refuse.

​Christopher was a distant man. He respected you and was a gentleman, but he didn't try to get very close. He was a man of few words, and you found yourself struggling to break through his shell, even after a year. You were certain much of it stemmed from your age gap; after all, you were 19 and he was 31 when you married. A year later, you were still trying to break down his emotional walls. You even slept together on very rare occasions when you pushed hard enough, but you wanted him to take the initiative. The funny thing was that on those nights, he always seemed to enjoy it just as much as you did.

​He was facing away from you, pruning the roses and pulling weeds from the soil. You smiled as you watched his strong, muscular arms flex with every movement he made.

​"Do you need something?" he asked in a measured tone. "I can feel you staring at me."

​"I have the right to look at my husband," you replied, your voice laced with laughter. You loved flirting with him and teasing him. As usual, he didn't answer. You huffed in frustration.

​In the first few months, this used to make you feel insecure. How could a handsome, intelligent, wealthy, tall, muscular, and healthy man not feel attracted to his own wife? Sure, it was an arranged marriage, but he could at least approach you casually. Didn't all men do that? So you assumed it was your age, and that thought unsettled you. For a while, you monitored his outings, followed him to work, showed up unexpectedly at his company, and glued yourself to his side like a leech at every work or social event he attended. You even installed a GPS in his car, hacked into his personal computer, and snoop through his phone. Yet you never found a thing. He was always clean, completely free of suspicion. The man was simply cold; even when other women hit on him, he gave them nothing. That was just who he was.

​You went back to watching him and noticed how sweaty he was. The white tank top clung to his skin, making you swallow hard. After all, you were just a young woman full of desire for her own husband. Shaking your head to scatter those thoughts, you turned to the cooler you had brought along, poured a glass of water, and walked over to him.

​"Here, you must be thirsty." He looked up and met your gaze. His dark, ever-watchful eyes locked onto yours with intense depth.

​"Thank you." He took the glass and drank it in large gulps before handing it back, his gaze returning to the roses.

​You sat back down on the spread-out towel, this time setting the book completely aside to focus on him. You were fascinated by your husband, and it felt a bit silly to admit because he was your first man. Sure, back in school you had flirted and kissed a few boys, but it was all innocent and harmless. Christopher Bangchan, on the other hand, was a real man. His body was far more developed than a teenager's—more muscle, more density. His face was stunning and sharp, with a prominent, remarkably striking nose that suited his features perfectly. A handsome mouth with full lips that, whenever he kissed you, completely unsettled your soul. Massive hands capable of effortlessly cupping your full breasts. Everything about him was large, warm, and welcoming—so different from his quiet personality. You remembered how, the first time you slept together, you nearly cried begging for it. He had been a complete gentleman, and it was the best experience you'd ever had. As time went on, you only grew greedier, and you were well within your rights. In the eyes of both human law and God, this man belonged to you.

​"You should head inside," he said, breaking your train of thought. "The sun is getting hotter."

​"What about you?" As always, he was attentive.

​"I'll be in in a few minutes. Go ahead."

​"I'll draw a bath for you, okay?"

​He didn't answer, simply nodding his head.

​That was another strange thing about the two of you: despite the distance he kept, you were still intimate in a way. You slept in the same room, shared the same bed, and sometimes bathed or walked into the bathroom while the other was still in there without it being an issue. You were constantly semi-naked around each other. It was a kind of intimacy without closeness. Did such a thing even exist? Outside of the nights you spent together, he didn't touch you in a sexual way, yet he had no problem touching you whenever it was convenient in your day-to-day routine.

​Your thoughts were a whirlwind as you went inside and headed upstairs to the master suite you shared. Without delay, you entered the bathroom and began filling the large tub. It was big enough for both of you, but you weren't going to bathe with him—not today, at least. You added his favorite bath salts and let the foam build up. A short while later, you heard movement in the bedroom, and soon he appeared at the bathroom door.

​"It's ready for you," you told him softly.

​He quickly undressed and stepped into the tub, closing his eyes for a moment as he leaned back.

​"Thank you," he replied, his eyes still closed.

​You smiled faintly and positioned yourself behind him so you could massage his neck and wash his hair. Without asking for permission, your hands touched his warm, wet skin. Chris tensed slightly at the sudden contact, but quickly relaxed.

​"Let me take care of you," you whispered in his ear. "After all, I am your wife."

​Wife. You loved that title. And you only loved it because he was the husband.

​He took a deep breath.

​"You're always taking care of me," he murmured. "It puzzles me a bit."

​You made a shocked face that he couldn't see.

​"Why would that surprise you?" Your curiosity and shock bled into your voice. "You're mine to take care of."

​You heard him let out a soft huff.

​"You're too young for this." He fell silent for a few minutes while you digested what he said, before he spoke up again. "Honestly, when my parents introduced us and I found out your age, I expected you to be much more spoiled and rebellious. Especially with your strange taste in fashion and style."

​It was your turn to huff. You dressed in a style that hovered between goth and Lolita, constantly alternating between the two. It didn't help that your hair was pink. On the day you met him, you had been wearing a black and blue plaid dress with a tight corset that ended mid-thigh, sheer blue tights with bows, and black platform heels. Your parents might have been wealthy elites, but they had never stopped you from being yourself—as long as it didn't involve boys.

​"I must have made quite an impression," you replied. "And now? What do you think of me?"

​"To be honest, I keep waiting for you to rebel." A pause followed while you began massaging shampoo into his hair. "I agreed to marry you despite your age because of our parents; it felt inevitable. But I assumed you'd run off and find someone your own age, go out partying, or something like that. Instead, you stay home most of the time—studying, reading, writing, and, of course, blowing through my card with online shopping."

​You laughed. You knew he didn't care; he was just teasing you. This was the longest conversation you had ever had on the subject. He rarely spoke much about it.

​"I knew our age difference bothered you," you said calmly. "But I didn't realize you thought those things about me. I was never like that. My parents raised me very protectively, and I didn't really care for that lifestyle anyway. I like peace and quiet and doing my own thing."

​He didn't reply. For a while, you simply washed his hair, massaging his scalp, and you thought the subject might have died.

​Then came another deep sigh from him.

​"What do you want from me, sweetheart?" Your breath hitched; he had never called you that before. "I've noticed over the past few weeks that you've been clingier, hovering around me more. You spent the whole morning staring at me without saying a word, and I don't understand why."

​You felt like dunking his head under the bathwater and holding it there until he found some common sense. What a ridiculous question to ask.

​"If you haven't realized it yet, I'm trying to get closer to you," you explained with a touch of exasperation. "We had our one-year anniversary last month, but you're still so distant. I want more affection, more tenderness, more sex. You respect me and take care of me, but you're always keeping your distance. I thought... I thought maybe you had someone else..."

​"I have never cheated on you," he interrupted.

​"I know that. But it's strange. I always heard that men have high sex drives, and you don't seem to fit that mold."

​"I am not an animal," he said concisely. "You are too young for me."

​"Well, you should have cared about that before marrying me. Now you are my husband, and I want you to play your part. The whole part—not just protector and provider."

​Your voice carried a note of irritation. You might be younger, but you were 20 now. You were a married woman who managed the household and looked after her husband. Of course, it wasn't as if you did heavy labor—you had staff, and Chris was very independent—but you still took your responsibilities seriously.

​"I actually expected you to have lovers," he finally said in a low voice, as though it were something he had given a lot of thought to. "I wouldn't stop you, of course. I'd just ask you to be careful, but..."

​Fed up with his ridiculous reasoning, you tugged on his hair, making him grunt and cut himself off.

​"Shut up, Christopher Bangchan, unless you're going to say something that actually makes sense!"

​Realizing he had genuinely upset you, he caught your hand and swiftly, gently maneuvered you. Within seconds, you tumbled into the bath, landing right in his lap.

​The truth was, Christopher didn't know what to do with you. He had always been a man of cool emotions. He had a few official girlfriends in the past, but they never lasted long. He had never felt grand passions; he liked those women, but it was lukewarm. Sex was pleasurable to him—he knew what he liked and sought it out—but it wasn't vital. He had accepted the arranged marriage because of all this. But the girl—the young woman they presented to him—turned out to be completely different from what he expected.

​He had anticipated some resistance, some rebellion. He expected to act more like a guardian than a husband. He knew that if he didn't marry her, her parents would marry her off to someone else. Beyond losing the business deal between their families, he believed he could look after her better than most. Yet she proved to be sweet, gentle, and spirited. Even with her outfits full of lace, leather, and frills, her wild pink hair, and her habit of lighting incense in every corner of the house, she was a wonderful wife. She always wanted to know how he was doing, noticed the little things he liked or disliked, cooked for him sometimes, enjoyed washing his hair, and accompanied him without complaint to every social obligation. He noticed she could be possessive, and it had been a little stressful when she started tracking his every move, but whenever he was about to call her out on it, he held back. Christopher had always wondered why she did all that, but now he wondered if she had simply felt insecure because he wasn't giving her proper attention.

​It was after that phase that he finally gave in to her advances and slept with her for the first time. And it had been incredible. Even though she was inexperienced, the eagerness and passion with which she surrendered herself made everything better. Over time, she loosened up and began exploring more. Still, he avoided it as much as possible, clinging to the belief that she deserved someone her own age.

​Apparently, that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted him.

​He let out a deep sigh and a quiet huff, feeling awkward and slightly embarrassed by the realization.

​"I'm sorry, baby," he said softly, so quietly you barely would have heard him if you weren't so close. "I think I was so focused on what was best for you that I never bothered to ask what you actually wanted."

​Your heart hammered against your chest at his words. You leaned down slightly and pressed a kiss to his wet neck.

​"We're husband and wife, Chris," you whispered. "I want us to be like other couples. I like you... I like you a lot. Don't you like me too?"

​Chris made a slight face. Talking about feelings was not something he was used to. He was fairly certain that, outside of his mother, he had never said those words to anyone.

​Instead, he gathered your face in both hands and pressed a long kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes and drank it in, even if you felt a tiny pang of disappointment at not getting a direct answer.

​"I promise I'll try to be warmer with you," he finally said. "I know I work a lot and I'm not very affectionate, but I'll try—for you."

​It was a promise he fully intended to keep. Even if she was far too young for him, in his mind, she was right. He was her husband; he had agreed to marry her, and now he needed to take full responsibility. And all this incredible, perplexing young woman wanted was him. Just him.

​"Now let's leave this conversation for later," Chan said. "Take off your clothes and get in here with me."

​You smiled and stood up with his help, slipping out of your wet clothes before settling right back onto his lap. This time, your whole body was submerged in the water, your back resting against his chest. You had done this only twice before, but this time felt different—you felt closer to him, more at ease.

​The two of you stayed there in a comfortable silence. He was never one for many words, and you didn't mind moments like this. Gradually, his hands began to trace paths across your skin, and you felt his lips brush against your neck. You were so close that you could feel his chest rising and falling against your back. That intimate moment, combined with his suggestive touch, sent a sudden rush through you. You were growing so wet.

​Bangchan noticed your restlessness and let out a faint smile against your skin. It had been a few weeks since you last came on to him. As usual, he had never pursued you, leaving the ball in your court. He used to think that initiating things, given his age, would feel like coercion, so he held back even when he wanted to. He had learned to wait eagerly for your moves. But perhaps, with this new perspective, that was about to change. You were beautiful and desirable; he loved every second spent between your thighs, even if a part of him used to lecture him for it. It was time to abandon those thoughts. You were an adult, and above all, his willing wife. He wasn't going to waste any more time.

​Delicately, you felt Chan's hands slide up your thighs, moving toward your inner warmth. Eagerly, you parted your legs. He had never taken such an explicit first step before, and a small whimper escaped your lips.

​"I've barely touched you and you're already so impatient," he murmured against your ear. You turned your head to look at him.

​"It's been a while, you know!" you grumbled, pouting slightly. "Besides, I'm thrilled you actually initiated for once and saved me the chase. I just want to be the princess in this relationship—you were making things so difficult."

​"Did I give my young little wife a hard time, then?" he teased, his voice still low right by your ear. "Forgive your husband, sweetheart. I just wanted you to be happy."

​"Your cock makes me happy!" you blurted out, a bit testy and tired of the excuses. He laughed—a genuine, light laugh that you rarely ever heard from him.

​"If my cock makes you happy, let me get you ready for it." Without delay, his fingers slid over your wet center. It was impossible to hold back your gasp.

​Two of his fingers stroked your slick folds, alternating pressure between your clitoris and your pulsing entrance. You had to admit one thing: being so young left you with an insane libido. He didn't have to do much before you were trembling in his arms. When he finally sank two fingers inside you, your orgasm hit like a freight train. Your head fell back against his chest as the waves of pleasure washed over you.

​He didn't stop moving, continuing to stroke through your climax. As your trembling subsided, he lifted your hips and lined himself up against you. Even with your fresh release, you were desperate to have him inside. Slowly, he slid in until you felt completely full and stretched around him, as you always did. The sensation of fullness was overwhelming.

​"Fuck," he swore under his breath. "You have no idea how much I love being inside you," he confessed. "I know I was a bastard for making you work so hard just to be close to me, but you don't know how much I restrained myself. How hard I fought it. How difficult it was to have a gorgeous young woman sleeping right next to me every night—reaching for my arms when she thought I was asleep—and do nothing. I couldn't, I..."

​"Shh," you cut off his self-flogging speech. "You not only can, you should. It doesn't matter how I dress, what I like to do when I'm alone, and especially not my age. I am your woman, and I love being your woman. I've always wanted you, and I always will. My body belongs to you too. I'm yours."

​Suddenly, he turned your head and captured your mouth in an unprompted, deep kiss. Your lips were parted from speaking, allowing his tongue to slide easily inside. He kissed you with raw passion and surrender—an intense, consuming kiss that made your head spin. His hips began to drive into you again, faster this time. You lost your breath as he trailed kisses across your face and neck.

​You held onto him tightly while he guided your hips to match his pace. He was finally taking you with real hunger. Every time with him had been wonderful, but this time carried a desperate edge that made it incomparably better.

​"If you want to be mine," he grunted, "then you're going to be mine."

​Bangchan felt completely out of control. Now that all that guilty caution and worry had finally dissolved, he couldn't hold back. He was throbbing hard, and your tight heat gripping his length felt incredible. He set a firm, steady rhythm, hitting every pleasure point he already knew by heart. Her soft gasps and quiet moans filling the bathroom drove him wild. The sound of their bodies together and the water splashing over the rim was music to his ears.

​"Climax for me, baby," he whispered, licking the shell of her ear. "I want to see you unravel on your husband's cock."

​You wriggled against him. Beyond the deep, precise rhythm of his thrusts, those words sent an electric thrill through you. It drove you wild. You simply loved hearing the word "husband" when he used it. It reminded you that you were married—that you were his.

​"Channie," you whimpered as the pulsing deep inside you intensified, pleasure coiling tightly in your lower belly and spine. You just needed one final push, and as if reading your mind, his hand slid over your clitoris with firm, circular movements. It was your undoing.

​Crying out and incoherent, you came hard. Your tight walls clamped down around him, and it was impossible for Chan not to spill himself deep inside you.

​"Fuck!" he swore as the force of his own orgasm overtook him.

​The two of you stayed still for a while, hearts pounding, breath ragged, as residual waves of pleasure rippled through your bodies. Eventually, you felt him pressing soft kisses against your neck, his breathing gradually slowing down.

​"That was incredible, sweetheart," he rasped, his voice rough. "I'm not holding back anymore. Whenever you're willing, I'm going to want you." He gently nipped at your skin, tracing it with his tongue. "And I'll try to open up more, too... be more affectionate."

​"Channie," your voice trembled with emotion. "You're good to me. You respect me, you're a gentleman, and you take care of me. That's affection in its own way. What I really want is more of the physical side—hugs, kisses, cuddling, sleeping wrapped around each other. Talking more would be nice, too. But I know that's just your quiet, reserved nature. I also love just spending hours watching you while you do your thing."

​He chuckled, a bit embarrassed. You really did watch him a lot.

​"Alright. I'll try to do more of all of that."

​"That's all I ask."

[zoellovstay]

guys help me im delusional

so I recently saw an animation video and it was I think zoro (if that’s his name idrk) and he was asking this I think oc how much she weighed and she responded like 200 pounds and then the next thing the video showed was zoro (or whatever his name is) with weights on his face (200 FUCKING POUNDS)

but tell me why i IMMEDIATELY thought of Bangchan because he would so do that

tmi under the cut (unrelated to the post but oh well)

a/n: anyways I wish I could goon but I alr did today and my hands got bloody cause my period