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bethanysnow · 3 hours

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there’s not really a day that goes by without me thinking about chan in love…

Chan, who gives the best hugs, his arms winding around your shoulders to pull you close into his warm, solid chest. Chan, who has a hard time letting go of you when you feel so perfect in his arms; whose heart is beating like crazy every time he does it, but who doesn't seem to know what's good for him because he still always finds excuses to touch you.

Chan, whose favourite thing about you has always been how you continue to surprise him – in the simple ways, yes, when you offer to pick him up from a schedule and show up with his favourite gimbap and convenience store coffee combo, but also in the way that you are. Because every time he thinks he’ll know what you’ll do, what you’ll say, you’ll like, you’ll do something entirely new. He invites you out to dinner, and you show up with a bag full of vinyl because you just got into it (and you bought one for him, a cool-looking one that matches his room to display on his walls because he can’t play it. He wonders how you always think of everything). He takes you to an industry event, and you end up charming a guy he’s been wanting to talk to for ages. A fan from Europe comes up to you, and it turns out you speak their language. Most days, he’s so in awe of you it makes him stutter when he asks you the simplest questions.

Chan, who never has to ask for your attention. He can’t think about it for too long, lest he lets himself get carried away, but you always seem to have an eye on him, able to pick up on his moods so effortlessly. You can take one look at him across a crowded room and within seconds, you’re next to him, your arm looping through his, your solid warmth easing the burn of annoyance in his chest. He’s asked you about it once, and you’d said it wasn’t a big deal because it was part of loving someone. You’d turned back to your sushi, as if you hadn’t just made his lovesick heart beat out of his chest.

Chan, who asks himself how you’re always so strong.

Chan, who thinks you don’t need him at all.

Chan, who’s fiercely protective of you, nonetheless; who always makes sure your seatbelt is fastened, who will gently shift you to his other side if you’re walking on the street side of the sidewalk, who will not let you take public transport after dark, coming to pick you up himself or paying for your Uber if he can’t.

Chan, who resigns himself to loving you for the rest of his life without telling you; who told Changbin that he would probably still attend your wedding, even if you got married to someone else. Changbin had looked at him like he lost his goddamn mind. Chan thinks he has, the day he met you.

Chan, who lies awake at night, trying and failing not to think about it, about you, about whether your smile to him today meant anything, or if he was being delusional about you bringing him gifts meaning something because today you brought Han a coffee because Chan told you he was tired. Chan, who, when he’s not overthinking every single one of your interactions (‘like a lovesick teenager’ he reproves himself), can spend hours daydreaming about what it would be like to be yours, to be loved by you. His favourite daydreams are the simple, domestic ones; coming home to you every night, pressing a kiss into your hair, breathing in your shampoo as he falls asleep with his face buried in your soft skin.

Chan, who doesn’t believe in signs from the universe; but when you get surprised by a rainstorm on the way back from an impromptu dinner, and he stretches his jacket over the two of you as you run to take refuge under a small awning like you’re in a romance movie; when you’re standing there, laughing up at him, soaking wet, beautiful, radiant, standing way too close to him – he takes the hint and kisses you, and kisses you like he means it, too, unable to squander his one chance to know what loving you tastes like.

Chan, who doesn’t expect you to kiss him back; so when you do, pulling him closer against your sweet, soft body with a hunger that mirrors his, it’s like his heart cracks open, his love, his need for you leaking into every fibre of his being, and before you know it, you’re filthily making out in the doorway of a random apartment complex.

Chan, who wants to do it all right. Who takes you to Australia, to meet his family, who brings wine and flowers when he meets your parents, who buys you red roses and takes you out to dinner until you giggle and tell him he doesn’t need to do all that, that you’re happy just to be with him.

Chan, who loves taking you on tour whenever he can, if just for a couple days; because he misses you, yes, but also because his life only feels right when he can share every part of it with you.

Chan, who also loves taking you on trips. Japan in the spring, Europe in the summer – and wood mountain cabins in the winter. Chan, who one year, during one of those winter holidays, makes love to you in front of the fireplace and proposes right there, just you and him and the crackle of the firewood and the snow outside the window. Just you and him, forever.

skzms' masterlist // ko-fi

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bethanysnow · 5 hours

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most of the talk on this website about Game Changer is how Sam Reich psychologically tortures his contestants, but I want to make it clear to the uninitiated that he's actually extremely ethical about it

He sends out a company wide email and asks them to choose episodes based on a chili pepper rating system

meaning he doesn't put 🌶️🌶️ people into 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ episodes

they're also big on consent ie cast and crew have to be okay with it before they'll do nudity or something like that in an episode

it's like the bdsm of psychological torture. safe, sane, and consensual.

the contestants know what they're getting into, and they're full down

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bethanysnow · 5 hours

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Keep it together

Pairing: Chan x femReader

Word Count: 2199

Summary: You come back to an empty home, overwhelmed after a shitty day. Once Chan's there he makes sure to take care of you.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, cuddles, emotional hurt!comfort

A/N: My dear friend and editor Miya @miyaluvvsyou wrote this beautiful comfort fic for Channie, trying to make me believe that it's "just a lil sth and probably not good"...please, help me prove her otherwise🤭🖤

Pushing the front door to your home open, you drag your tired body inside and let it slam shut behind you, ignoring the sound that normally makes you flinch. You slide off your shoes, drop your bag and keys on the nearby table, and take off your jacket to hang it up on the hook next to the door. You turn towards your living room, taking a few steps into your home. The air is still, silence clouding the air as you realize no one is home besides you. The sunlight peaks through your windows, and subtlety illuminates the space just enough to see the features of your home.

You walk past the living room and towards the stairs to your bedroom, stripping the clothes from your body in the process. As you reach your bedroom, you drop your clothes in the laundry basket by the door and head into the master bathroom, leaving the door open. Standing in front of the sink, you look into the mirror and you inhale a shaky breath, exhaling as you examine your features while only standing in your bra and panties.

Your hair, now frizzy and all over the place from its neat style this morning, is the first thing you see. The dark circles resting under your eyes threaten to deepen with one more sleepless night. Your eyes were red and puffy from rubbing them all day, also ruining your makeup you put effort into this morning. Your skin was slightly paler than normal. As you take in the sight, tears begin to brim your eyelids, and you take a shaky, deep breath to center yourself. You were drained in every sense of the word, and it was very apparent in your appearance, though you tried to hide it.

And all you wanted was him.

A tear escaped and rolled down your face, but you wiped it away quickly with a sniffle. Moving towards your shower, you turn on the hot water and let the steam envelop the room for a couple of minutes while you continue wiping away the tears still escaping your eyelids.

Keep it together just enough to shower. Wash the day away, and you will be fine…

You repeat the same words in your head as you strip from your underwear and step into the scalding water, letting it welcome you with a deep sigh. You try not to waste any time and energy getting to work on washing your body. With every scrub of the soapy cloth, you imagine every single worry and inconvenience from the week being taken away. But no matter how hard you scrub, your mind can’t seem to relax. The flowing hot water only giving you temporary relief from the icy atmosphere in your mind. And you can’t stay in the shower forever, as much as you want to sink down to the floor and let the water consume you. You resist the urge and continue cleaning your body until you’re satisfied.

Finishing your shower and getting out, you wrap a towel around your body and walk back to the bedroom. Grabbing your lotion, you sit at the edge of the bed and moisturize your body as you get lost in your thoughts again, staring at the floor and spacing out. Your body moves on autopilot, making sure to cover every inch of skin with the sweet-scented lotion as you’ve done countless times before. If anyone were to walk in, they would think you’re just doing your normal routine. But they’d have no idea of the depressive storm brewing in your head.

Keep it together. You’ll be under the covers and away from the world soon…

As you continue your routine on autopilot, you tug one of his t-shirts over your head, slip on a pair of panties, and sit on your side of the bed, facing the window. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply and hold it in. The tears that were in your waterline begin to slide down your cheeks. You exhale shakily, and before you can stop it, the tears fall faster. You begin to cry, feeling your mind and body give in to the breakdown you have been avoiding all day. As your sobs get louder, your body slides down onto the floor, leaning back against the bed, and your hands reach up to cover your face. You cry your heart out, trying to keep your heart from racing out of your chest.

You don’t hear Bang Chan come home almost an hour later. He’s humming to himself as he closes the door, guiding it so it won’t slam, and puts his keys in the bowl on the table. As he takes his shoes off, he notices yours and smiles to himself, putting his bag next to yours. “(Y/N), I’m home, love!” He calls out to you. Taking off his hoodie and hanging it next to the door, he turns towards the living room, expecting to see you.

But he’s met with nothing but the still silence of the home. There weren’t any lights on, just the few rays of sunlight coming through the window. There wasn’t any movement coming from the kitchen. As he walked further in, he noticed the tv wasn’t on either, couch unoccupied.

“(Y/N)? Are you home, baby?” Chan called out again, his eyebrows raised as he awaits for a response. But none came, and he frowned.

Strange.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he opens it and calls your phone, listening to the ringing. A couple of seconds later, he hears the vibration from your phone and looks around to locate the sound. He follows the vibration back to your purse, where he sees your ringing phone with his name on the screen. He looks around once more before ending the call. He softly hums and begins to make his way upstairs, 2 steps at a time. Maybe you were in the bathroom or in the shower.

Chan notices the bedroom door open and looks inside, standing in the doorway. His eyes scan the room before he sees the top of your head poking out from your side of the bed. He exhales with a small smile and slowly walks in, trying not to make noise to surprise you. But his smile fades as he gets closer to you and hears your small sniffles. Are you crying?

“Baby?” Chan speaks gently to get your attention. Your head snaps up to meet his gaze, and his heart drops at the sight. You’re sitting on the floor in his t-shirt, one shoulder exposed and crossed legged. Your eyes are bloodshot red and puffy, tears flowing. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you sniffle but struggle to breathe. My poor baby..

He’s kneeling down in front of you not even a second later, his hands cupping your cheeks and wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “(Y/N) what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did something happen?” Chan rattles out questions as he closely examines your body. You shake your head and sniffle, more tears flowing from your eyes.

“C-Chan I-“ You struggle to get out between sniffles. You put your hands over his and close your eyes. He leans forward and kisses your nose softly, then your forehead, and finally pecks your lips so delicately. It causes you to still, taking a deep breath and inhaling his scent. It calms you enough to finally open your eyes and meet his gaze.

He looks at you with a pained expression and rubs your cheeks with his thumbs gently. “What’s wrong, princess? What’s upsetting you, hm?” He asks sincerely. Chan hated seeing you upset, especially if he’s the one that causes it. But since he’s just gotten home, he doesn’t think he might be the cause this time.

“I don’t k-know, but hold me p-please” You whimper and wrap your arms around his neck. Chan sits back against the wall and pulls you into his lap, holding you close to his chest as he rubs your back. You bury your face in his neck and sniffle, trying to steady yourself in his arms.

Chan rubs soothing circles on your back and shushes you softly. You instinctively pull him impossibly closer, taking deep breaths. “It’s okay, babygirl. I’m right here. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” You nod at his words. “We can sit here as long as you’d like, okay?”

“O-okay Channie.” You whisper into his neck, steadying your beating heart as you find comfort in his arms.

The two of you sit like that for 2 hours. Once your sniffles died down and the tears stopped flowing, you curled up in Chan’s lap, subconsciously trying to shrink yourself. He continued to rub your back while planting soft kisses on your head every now and then. He even started to hum one of your favorite songs to help steady your heartbeat. He didn’t complain about being on the floor for so long, he just wanted you to be okay. Once the silence was in the air long enough, he spoke up. “How ya feeling, love?”

“I’m okay…” You shyly reply, shifting a little in his lap. “I’m sorry I couldn’t-“ You begin to try explaining yourself, but Chan interrupted you almost immediately.

“Shh hey, don’t apologize to me. My concern is you, no matter what.” He looks into your eyes as he speaks reassurance to you, letting the hand that’s not rubbing your back gently caress your face. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, it’s okay. I won’t pressure you.”

You nod and your eyes flutter as he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead. With a sniffle, you begin to speak. “I just had a really tense work week and once I got home, my body just…broke down. It’s just been so-“ The tears begin to rim around your eyes as you explain, and you take a pause to take a deep breath. Chan notices and kisses your forehead, running a gentle finger underneath your eyes to wipe away your tears. You take his hand and look into his eyes. “Thank you, Channie.” You speak lowly, but sincerely.

“Don’t thank me, it’s my job to make sure you are okay baby.” He speaks softly with a smile. You match the small smile resting on his face and nod. “Do you wanna sit here for a little longer still?”

“Can we lay in bed and cuddle? You’re probably uncomfortable from sitting like this for a while. Especially with me sitting on top of you.” You give him an apologetic look, while an adorable pout rests on your lips.

Chan shakes his head. “You know I’ll never complain when you’re sitting on my lap, princess.” He says, wiggling his eyebrows. You gasp softly and slap his shoulder playfully, smiling as he giggled. “But we can lay down and cuddle baby, whatever you want.” He chuckles and kisses you. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving to straddle his lap. He wraps his arms around your legs and stands up with ease, causing a squeal to leave your lips in the middle of the kiss. He chuckles and kisses you again as he takes a few steps towards the bed and lays you on your back.

You keep your arms around his neck and wraps your legs around his waist to keep him close. He smiles and kisses your forehead and cheeks, going back to your lips for a soft peck. You whine softly and try to connect your lips again, but he pulls back just enough to be out of reach, a grin that flashes his dimples rests on his lips. “Channieee”

“Uhn uhn, cuddling only princess. That’s what you asked for.” He raised an eyebrow, still grinning.

You sigh and pout at him. “Just a little kiss?” You give him the best boba eyes you can manage.

But he doesn’t crack, giving your pouty lips a quick peck before he playfully slaps your thigh. “There’s your kiss. Now get under the covers while I change my clothes.” He says, giggling at your stunned face from his movement. He gives you one more small peck before standing up and going into that closet to change. You smile to yourself and crawl under the covers, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV.

Chan comes out of the closet in a pair of sweatpants but his chest bare. He climbs into bed and underneath the covers, pulling your body close to his. You lay your head on his chest and intertwine your legs, feeling safe and sound in his arms. He kisses your temple and smiles. “I love you darling.”

“I love you more, Channie. So much more.” You speak, placing a kiss on his chest and smiling to yourself. You turn on Netflix and you watch that K-Drama you both have been waiting to watch, feeling that much needed peace you craved just hours ago.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist):

@atinyniki @galaxycatdrawz @silverstarburst @aaa-sia @lilmisssona @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @rebecca-johnson-28 @lixie-phoria @kibs-and-bits @xxstrayland @ihrtlix @pheonixfire777 @mellhwang @palindrome969 @michelle4eve @harshaaaaa @rylea08 @heeyboooo @manuosorioh @gisaerlleri @andassortedkpop @lailac13 @bbokari711 @kazuuuaaa @rssamj @wolfyychan @stellasays45 @chrizzztopherbang @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @silentreadersthings @myforevermelody143

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bethanysnow · 10 hours

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Stray Kids Horny Texts (Best Friends with Benefits Edition) (Chan, Minho and Changbin)

Back with another instalment of this series! As usual, they're all very dirty. Mention of virginity for Lee Know, implied chubby/muscular reader, and mentions of weight issues in Changbins. Tumblr has a 10 image limit for mobile so y'all get 3 parts to this. ENJOY!

(I WILL ADD TOGOM TO THIS POST WHEN IM ON DESKTOP!)

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bethanysnow · 21 hours

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To anyone who believes fairy tale romances never happen in real life, may I remind you that JRR and Edith Tolkien met and experienced a forbidden love in their youth, and then were separated for five whole years because of his guardian’s rules that he could not date till he was 21, and she got engaged to someone else only because she assumed he’d forgotten her and lost hope that she could ever be with him, but then on his 21st birthday, he wrote her a letter saying he still loved her and wanted to marry her, she responded basically saying ‘if I’d known you hadn’t left me on the shelf, I would never have said yes to anyone else,’ then a week later she greeted him at the train station and then immediately dumped her fiancé, and they got married and she converted to his religion and danced for him in a flowering field far away from the trenches into which he was drafted, which left such an impression that he crafted an entire story about the most beautiful maiden in the world who danced in the woods and made enormous sacrifices to be with the man she loved, and they had four kids and remained faithful to each other and blissfully grew old together and their gravestones are now marked with the names of that same fictional couple that he created, who broke every rule and overcame every possible obstacle to be together and get a happy ending, who only did all that because he based it all on their own real love story.

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bethanysnow · 24 hours

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Yuming Li on Instagram

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bethanysnow · 24 hours

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Thank you for the tag @kaciidubs ^-^ <3

Things I could rant for hours about.

philosophy (and how I want to punch most cis white male philosophers)

fatphobia and its transference into media and society at large and its roots in racism, colonialism, and fetishization of size.

Historical accuracy in costuming in historical dramas,

weddings

music and the atomosphere it can create

I tag @itshannjisung @7ndipity

i was tagged by @svintsandghosts

I saw this meme going around on twitter and I think it'll be perfect for this account.

List 5 topics you can talk on for an hour without preparing any material.

bloodborne

horror media

art [depends on era] & architecture

jay and jake

ateez

ill tag my usual hotties but y'all ain't gotta do it: @drunkhazed @yeonzzzn @alvojake

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bethanysnow · 1 day

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hey guys new diagnosis just dropped: EVIL AUTISM

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bethanysnow · 1 day

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Oh I need this in my life!!! Fuckin hell man- ooooooo I will have to save this for later. Your writing is so descriptive and real just AHHHHGOODJOBICANTWAITTOREADMORE

however you want it, lover-lover

pairing: bang chan x afab!reader

warnings: 🔞!!!! bang christopher chan’s never-ending shame and embarrassment, angst (? kinda maybe if you squint), masturbation (m!), cunnilingus, rimming (f!rec), unprotected sex, foot stuff (chan puts his foot on ur head when he fucks you in doggy), daddy kink, dirty talk

a/n: eeeeeep surprise! another commission!! thank u again to the sweetheart who commissioned this! the only specifications were about chan putting his foot on your head during doggy & the “step on me” comment, thank you for giving me creative liberty on everything else, i had so much fun with this!! <3

“step on me.”

it’s the first thing you’ve said in probably thirty minutes. you and chan are busy doing absolutely nothing, both on your phones and relaxing together on your couch on his odd day off.

“ste- aha! what? jesus, what are you saying?”

“step on me! look at this tiktok.”

you hand him your phone, and chan immediately groans and looks up at the ceiling when he lays eyes on the newest tiktok edit you’ve been watching for the past two minutes straight. at least two minutes. he’s going to have this song stuck in his head for the rest of the day thanks to you.

no diggity. flashes of sweat-slicked abs, slitted eyes, and a sharp jawline that have you kicking your feet and biting your lip next to him.

“don’t- don’t look at it like that. i don’t look like that,” chan complains. he tugs on his earlobe; the skin is flushed pink.

“you’re so fucking hot. that part! wait, go back, that part. that- right there. i’m getting horny.” you push into his space on the couch, knees pressed close to his muscular thighs, using your finger to point dramatically at the phone still clasped in chan’s loose grip. he almost shrieks when the clip of him lifting up his shirt rolls around again, an embarrassed grin on his face while he rolls his hips to the beat. “that! oh my god, i love these guys.” you pat his stomach.

“why are you watching these? this is so embarrassing,” chan mumbles. he lets you snatch your phone from his hand without fuss.

“edits of my sexy boyfriend? are you joking? i have a whole folder of them, look.”

you’re not kidding, chan comes to find. you really do have a tiktok folder filled with hundreds of spicy edits of him. you add this one to the folder and hand your phone back to him, curling up beside him tightly with your arms wrapped around one of his so that you can go through them together.

countless edits later, you can feel the heat radiating off of your tomato-red boyfriend. the last straw doesn’t even come from a particularly scandalous edit, just the song attached to it.

“oh gosh, not-! not daddy’s home, i can’t handle this!”

“whaaat?! what! what, come on, that one’s so good! you were so hot in that suit you wore at kcon!”

chan drops your phone into his lap and fake cries into his palms while you shake his shoulders with your hands, the chorus of daddy’s home still playing ridiculously in the background.

“you’re so red right now i feel like you’re going to explode or something.”

you fan him aggressively with your hands, and chan tugs at the thick neck of his hoodie to circulate some air to his equally-as-red chest.

“i think i could. stays are, um, haha! stays are really, really good at edits. those transitions were kinda crazy.”

“‘how many letters is bang chan?’” you read, picking your phone back up from his lap and pausing the video to scroll through the comments. “‘we must stay focused brothers.’”

chan leans into you again and grabs the corner of your phone to angle it towards him so he can read the funny comments with you. he’s cute, embarrassed and sweetly shy from seeing his own body and hard work be made a spectacle of. your man is a pro-idol indeed, the confident lip bites, shirt lifts, and grinding hips come easy to him on stage, but chan off-stage would prefer to curl up in a ball and cover his ears at the mere mention of a compliment.

“‘step on me, king,’” he reads. “what- what does that even mean? no, i don’t wanna know. you guys are insane!” his lips quirk down, contemplative. you giggle at the way his eyes dart back and forth quickly like he’s really trying to figure out the mystery of someone wanting to be stepped on by him.

“it’s just, like, an internet thing? people probably don’t even really mean it, it’s like a reflex to say when someone’s super hot. well, no, i lied. people definitely mean it with you.”

before you can explain your case further, chan grabs you around the shoulders and pulls you to his chest in a rough bear hug. your nose is smushed against his abdomen, and you’d bite down if you knew you’d get anything other than the thick fabric of his hoodie in your mouth.

“whaddya mean people definitely mean it with me, huh?!”

you love when he gets like this, playful and silly and uninhibited. cute. his face flushes petal pink at the attention, the compliments and praise make him want to shrivel up, but he wants to hear them from you regardless. he craves it.

“y’re hot, goober,” comes your muffled reply. chan has mercy on you and lets you up from his grasp, he even smooths out your now frizzy hair. it’s not until your legs are thrown across his lap and you’re nestled into the corner of the couch that he speaks again.

“did- i mean, did you mean it? like- you’d want me to? step… on you? or something?”

your comment started off as a little joke, something so completely unserious, but at the same time, it’s not like you have to put much thought into it. you’ve watched porn, you’ve watched hardcore porn when you were in the mood for it, and there’s something in particular that you are mighty keen on trying out in bed with chan as long as he’d be comfortable doing it with you.

“yeah, like. like, wouldn’t it be kinda hot? if you fucked me from behind and put your foot on my head to hold me down?”

chan cocks his head like he’s not expecting you to answer so seriously, blinking rapidly as he takes in what you said. he’s the perfect partner, the perfect lover in bed and out, there’s truly not much you could ask him for that he wouldn’t go out of his way to do, but this might be the exception based on the sour look on his face.

“don’t- don’t make me feel bad! is it weird? maybe it’s kinda weird.”

“hey! hey hey hey, no, bug. c’mere.” chan tugs on your ankle until you’re curled up next to him again. he wraps a strong arm around you, settling the other one under the tuck of your legs so he can cradle you close. “i didn’t mean to make you feel bad. you know how i am about my feet, yeah? they’re so… flat.”

he mutters the word flat like it’s a curse, like he’s disgusted with himself. chan nitpicks himself like it’s his job, and he’s the chairman of the company. his nose is too big, his feet are too flat. why is his bum so big and his arms not big enough? he focuses on every single detail of his physical being until they drive him crazy, but you’re helping him work on it, a slow but sure process. what may be small details to you are not small details to chan, it’s important for you to remember.

“don’t be mean to my channie.” you bonk your forehead against his. “i think it would be hot. just- it’s just another way you can have me, you know? get me on my knees for you and push my head into the mattress when you fuck me, and if i move too much you just put your foot on my head to keep me in place. tell me to be good and take it.”

you press your legs together at the thought, and chan rubs a gentle hand up your thigh. an even gentler smile graces his pretty lips, he can tell by how squirmy you’re becoming that you’re getting worked up.

“is that what you like about it? that i can keep you in place?”

that’s only part of it. you don’t want that from just anyone, you want it from chan. chan makes you crave submission in a way you never have before because you trust and love him so wholly. chan takes you to the moon and gives you the stars while you’re there. you tell him all of this, and his fingers make their way between your closed legs.

“let me think on it, yeah?” he whispers. “just let me think about it.”

he can’t stop thinking about it.

he’s already naked, didn’t bother changing into clothes after a quick shower, and his cock is drooling on the thick planes of his abs.

chan likes being dominant. chan loves being dominant, in fact. there’s something so special about taking you apart and putting you back together again. it’s cathartic to him, and he knows it is for you too, but sometimes the vast clashing of chan’s shameshameshame and wantwantwant is hard to navigate.

what kind of man is he that fantasizes about debasing you like that? you deserve to be treasured. you’re his queen, he should treat you as such, how could he even think about something like this?

nevertheless, the thought lingers.

your hands pinned against your back by his veiny ones. his cock, hot and heavy, drilling into the sweet heat of your precious cunt. you’d be crying, he’s ashamed to think, begging for your daddy to fuck you harder, give you more.

chan licks his palm. his balls are tight when he fondles them, squeezing the wrinkled skin in a rough hold. he hisses through his teeth when he traces his middle finger a little lower, rubbing slowly at the sensitive skin of his taint just like you do for him.

“baby, fuck.” his words are whispered, drowned out by the clapping of sweaty skin and your delicious moans that his mind conjured up. a dirty movie just for his viewing.

he finally takes hold of his cock, knobby fingers curling around the head and soothing downwards to spread precum down his length. chan’s hips raise into his grip at the same time you fuck yourself back on him in his fantasy.

“my pussy feels so goo-o-od, daddy,” your voice says. it’s frantic, mumbled pathetically due to the fact that your cheek is squished against the mattress. the force of his thrusts shunts your body up towards the headboard, but you’re held in place by chan’s strong grip.

he slows down, and it pulls a pathetic sob from your lips. chan pulls his cock almost all the way from your cunt before slowly, so slowly, sliding back inside balls deep. you quake when his balls mash tight against your swollen clit, the feeling of his cock so deep inside is so overwhelming that you struggle to get your arms up under you so that you can scramble uselessly up the bed.

“don’t run, don’t fucking run, take what i give you, yeah?”

chan manhandles you back by the hips until he’s pressed all the way inside again, and that’s when he swings his leg around. even in his fantasy, he can feel the texture of your pretty hair and the heat radiating from your face.

the scene in his head makes chan throw an arm over his face while his other hand speeds up on his cock. he’s so wet now that his fist makes a slick noise every time it moves, the tip of his dick a leaky faucet. if anyone were to walk by his door there’s no doubt what he’s getting up to.

“daddy?!” you cry, gasping. your hands scramble to grip at the sheets.

“stay still. stay right there, baby, i don’t wanna hurt you,” he grunts. it takes a moment to get his rhythm going again, not used to this position, but he’s a quick learner. he can feel the way you try to nod your head under the weight of his foot, and it’s so sweet the way your breath catches in your throat.

if he were any meaner he’d press his foot against you rougher, mess up your hair so it tangles and sticks to your teary, ruddy cheek.

“so good, sweetie, you’re doing so good.”

“so good, sweetie, you’re doing so good,” chan whispers aloud. if he keeps his eyes closed and focuses on the pictures in his head, it’s almost like he can feel the tight grip of your little cunt on his cock instead of his fist.

“‘m doing so good,” you whimper. “c’n i cum for you, please? please can i cum, daddy? daddydaddydaddy.” your fingers wrap around his ankle and -

chan cums with a choked groan. his almond eyes flutter open as sticky cum oozes in ropes against his taut, heaving abs. he slows the speed of his fist but continues touching himself until his hips are kicking in overstimulation.

he lays there for a moment and focuses on the cum cooling onto his abdomen, refusing to acknowledge the dregs of embarrassment yet that are creeping into his relaxed state of mind. did he really just get off to that? did he really just get off to a perverted fantasy about stepping on the love of his life?

all of a sudden, like the angel you are, your voice cuts through his thoughts. a beacon of light, a lone lighthouse in the fog of his stormy sea. funnily enough, you had mentioned this after a particularly frenzied round of sex, and he’s never forgotten it.

don’t let your shame get in the way of something you think you might really enjoy.

you’re almost bouncing in his lap when he finally tells you he’s down to try it. your excitement is palpable, and he can’t help but smile with you.

the both of you are nearly naked when he tosses you on your bed and climbs on top of you. you can’t help but wriggle, the only thing that’s left on your body is your pants.

“you gonna be rough with me, channie?” you ask, coy. he doesn’t grace you with an answer, but he does flip you onto your stomach before crawling down the bed and slowly easing your pants down. he stops before he pulls them all the way down your ass, pausing to press heated kisses to the fat of your cheeks.

“lift up on your knees, baby. yeah, ‘s good,” chan coaxes. with your pants still bunched up under your ass, he helps you situate yourself on your knees. he was expecting for you to rise onto your palms too, but your upper body remains flat against the mattress. your ass is presented to him on a platter. he tugs your pants down further so that they’re stuck around your thighs.

you sigh at the first touch of his warm tongue to your cunt. he eats you out like he’s ravenous, shaking his head against you to get his tongue deeper while his hands grip your asscheeks to keep you steady. you know he likes to be smothered like this, the meat of your pussy lips bracketing his tongue so you’re all he can taste, all he can smell.

he left your pants around your thighs for a reason; you can’t spread your legs like you want. you squirm, whining pitifully in your throat while your movements are restricted, and chan just huffs a smug laugh against your sloppy wet pussy.

chan pulls away for a moment to hook two bony fingers in your clenching hole, kissing your thighs and your asscheeks as he makes his way somewhere else.

your mouth opens in a silent moan, chin quivering and eyebrows furrowing when chan sucks a wet kiss onto your asshole.

“o-oh, chan, channie,” you finally moan, and he responds with his own. his fingers fuck you with precision while his tongue circles the furl of your littlest hole until he pulls away to speak.

“‘s not my name,” he mumbles. his ears heat up.

“christopher. chris? chris, you’re so good to me.” a whine, pitched high and needy.

“one more try, baby. you know what my name is, yeah?”

he curls his two fingers deliciously in your pussy and returns his mouth to your asshole, flicking rapidly and then sucking around the pucker in a messy kiss. his lips smack against you so perfectly that your brain nearly shuts off.

“da- daddy! daddy, you’re my daddy,” you cry, legs still uselessly fighting against the waist of your pants to try and spread yourself for him. chan grips your wrist and presses it to your lower back when your hand flies back to attempt to spread your ass open.

“yeah. yeah. that’s right, baby. and i’m- daddy’s gonna fuck you now, okay?”

he pulls your pants the rest of the way off and you’re presenting yourself again like it’s your favorite thing to do. face down, ass up, ready and waiting for him. chan doesn’t waste anymore time before he mounts you, pressing his hands to the arch of your back and making it bow deeper as he sheaths himself inside your warmth.

“big- big cock, daddy.”

“big ‘cause you like it like that.”

he’s right, your daddy’s dick is big and you love it.

he waits until you’re relaxing into the sheets to start a cruel pace, leaning over your back to brush his fingers through your hair while he works his hips. his mind is almost blissfully blank, the only voice in his head telling him to fuck you better, fuck you like you deserve, give you what you asked for.

it almost happens like it did in his fantasy, a particularly deep thrust sends you scrambling up the bed and rubbing frantically at your pulsing clit while he follows behind you.

“no no no, don’t. stay still, just take it. i’m not done yet, yeah? you’ve gotta- gotta be good and take it.”

it’s not nearly as smooth as it was in his head, nothing ever is and probably never will be, but he successfully swings his leg around and plants his foot on your head. his hamstring burns, thighs quivering for a moment before he takes a deep breath and thrusts himself fully inside again.

“ohmygoddaddy,” you wheeze. “oh my god, daddy! oh my god, oh fuck.” he can feel the way your cunt clenches on him frantically. chan stays frozen for a moment, waiting for you to kick at him or whimper out your safeword, but neither come. he feels your pretty hair under the sole of his foot, feels the heat radiating from your sweaty skin. “please, that’s so fucking hot! you’re so fucking hot.”

your voice is throaty and desperate, and it sends chan into a frenzy.

chan lifts up on his knee so he can fuck you harder, hovering over your back and planting both hands beside your shoulder. it’s a stretch, but he finds that he likes it. he fucks you like a dog, hips rutting roughly and leg hiked up so he can push your face into the mattress with his foot just like you wanted.

“such a- hah, haaaah, pretty mess for me,” chan moans. his chest is flushed pink with exertion. he’s used to it flushing pink with embarrassment, but there’s no embarrassment or shame to be found here, not today. “pretty mess on my cock. love you. baby, love you.”

if he looked down, there’d be a sweet ring of cream around his cock, your pussy so sloppy wet and creamy that you’ve left your mark on him.

you’re being fucked so hard your head should be bobbing with the movement, but you’re held firmly in place by chan’s foot. you whimper when he adjusts his stance and his heel presses into the plush of your sweat-sticky cheek.

“daddy, da- daddy. daddy,” you repeat. you just want to say his name. chan can see your face clearly from where he’s hovering above you and slightly to the side. you can barely keep your eyes open, and they’re swimming when you do, gaze loopy and delirious. you’re drooling against the mattress, lips open and plump and squished slightly from the weight of his foot on your precious cheek.

“what does daddy need to do?” he breathlessly asks. “are you still with me, sweetheart?”

you rush to answer, tongue heavy and words slurring when you tell him that you’re “right here with you, daddy.”

it takes everything in him not to growl like a damn animal. you’re so fucked out on his cock that he’ll never forget it, so perfect and dirty and darling. he can already feel his heavy balls tightening when they slap against your clit, he’s so ready to feed you full of all his cum, but he has to get you there first. you’re squeezing his cock so tight that he knows it won’t take much more.

“fuck. fuck, whose hole is this? tell me whose it is.”

“‘s your hole, daddy. daddy’s hole. just- just yours. do you like it?” you ask him so sweetly he has to giggle, and all you can do is whine. chan’s arms almost give out when your fingers wrap around his ankle and stroke lightly at the skin.

“baby, i love it. love this pussy, love everything about you, nnnuh, come on. come on, do it. cum for me. daddy’s s-so proud of you, you’re perfect.”

you almost dislodge him when you cum, shivering so hard in pleasure that your body starts to buck. chan lifts his foot from your head and ignores the ache in his thigh in favor of holding you in his arms while you cum, hips still thrusting so he can help you ride it out.

“you too, cum in me, please? please, daddy. i want your cum so bad.” your eyes are almost rolling in your head, but you pucker your lips for a kiss and chan’s gone.

he turns your head so he can lick inside of your mouth. your pulsating pussy still milking him for all he’s worth, he’d be crazy not to give it to you. he cums with a loud groan, so loud that it’s hardly muffled by the smacking of your lips, and he stills inside of you. chan can feel his thigh shaking against the back of yours.

you’re a little out of it, he can tell. you coo sadly when his softening cock slips out of you as he slowly rolls you onto your back, but your lips quirk up in a loopy smile when he cups your cheeks in his hands to help you focus your gaze on him.

“my heart. look at me? gosh, you’re so fucking pretty.”

your lashes flutter, and chan smiles.

#save for later

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