drabble — boy, you got me so worked up.
you have been so worked up since that bubble video had notified your phone.
chan had sent another one today. for stays he says, but you know damn well who is being targetted with this video. leg day today and he's lifting innie. his crumpled face being obstructed by his cap and all you wanted to do is grab that stupid hat and stare at his face. he's doing it on purpose, that much you know.
so when he finally came home, exhausted from whatever he has done today. may it be his schedule or just to hang out with his members, one thing is all you wanted to do. ruin him, but that would be as hard as making him fold for you. he is stubborn.
“‘m home.” he grumbled, throwing his bag on the floor and flopping himself on the bed, right beside you.
“say, what if i told you i have a surprise for you?” you asked, voice sweet but firm.
chan raised an eyebrow at first, then his brows met, confusement spreading across his face. “a surprise for me? today? is there any occassion i missed?”
“no occassions, baby. i just wanted to. but i need you to lie here on the bed for me if you wanted that surprise for you.” you replied. you stepped closer, pressing your palm to his chest.
“and what surprise would that be?” he mused as he settled himself right in the middle of the bed.
you moved and tried to guide him to a position he would be most comfortable with, and when he settles down, you leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss on the side of his lips. you smiled and lifted the hem of his shirt and he knew what to do next. remove it completely.
“close your eyes, my love. hands up.”
although confused, he still did what you asked him, and the next thing he knew, his hands are bound together and cuffed at the headboard of the bed with his eyes blindfolded using one of his silk ties.
“this is the surprise?” he asked as he tried to pull his hand out but the cuffs are restricting him. “this feels more like a punishment, baby. what are you planning?”
you simply stepped back and let the silence swallow the room.
ten seconds. thirty. two minutes.
his breathing was still calm.
five minutes—his cock had thickened, now fully hard and resting heavy against his lower stomach, twitching occasionally.
ten minutes—his abs were tightening, small shifts in his hips betraying him.
“baby…?” his voice had lost its earlier smugness. “you still here?”
you stayed quiet, watching the way his chest rose and fell faster, how his thighs flexed, how his cock throbbed visibly in the air, flushed dark and leaking steadily now. a thick bead of precum rolled down his shaft.
finally, you climbed onto the bed. the mattress dipped. chan’s head snapped toward the sound, lips parted. your fingertips brushed feather-light along the inside of his left thigh, just grazing the sensitive skin, nowhere near his cock.
that single touch destroyed him.
chan’s entire body jerked violently. a shocked, broken moan ripped from his throat as his cock pulsed hard and he came untouched. thick, powerful ropes of cum shooting across his abs and chest in messily. his hips bucked into nothing, thighs trembling, wrists yanking hard against the silk ties as wave after wave crashed through him.
“f-fuck—! shit— i—” his voice cracked with humiliation, cheeks burning crimson beneath the blindfold. “i didn’t mean to— oh my god…”
you watched every twitch, every spurt, savoring how the confident man had just spilled all over himself from nothing but fifteen minutes of silence and one gentle touch on his thigh.
“look at you. so sensitive, hm? exhausted from the gym i supposed?” you teased, voice honey sweet, as if you are trying to coo him.
chan was still panting, cock twitching and only slightly softened, when you finally wrapped your hand around him.
your fingers were warm, slick with his own release. you started slow, torturously slow, gliding your fist up from the base to the swollen head, twisting gently at the top the way you knew drove him insane. your thumb pressed and rubbed firm circles over his sensitive slit, spreading the fresh cum that was still leaking out.
chan gasped sharply, hips jerking up into your hand. “ah—! baby— fuck—”
you pumped him with long, deliberate strokes, letting your palm glide smoothly over his slick length. every time you reached the head, you squeezed a little tighter, then slid back down, coating him thoroughly. your other hand rested on his thigh, nails lightly dragging over the muscle, feeling it quiver under your touch.
soft, desperate whimpers spilled from his lips. his head tossed side to side against the pillow. every stroke made wet, filthy sounds echo in the room as your hand moved faster, tighter, sliding up and down his throbbing cock with purpose.
“please…” the word tumbled out, raw and needy. “please... i’m so fucking sensitive—”
he doesn't even know what he was begging for but you gave him what you thought he needed the most.
you stroked him harder, faster, using both hands now. one pumping his length with tight, twisting strokes while the other played with his balls, rolling and gently tugging them. chan’s moans turned louder, more broken. his back arched beautifully off the bed, muscles straining, sweat glistening on his skin as he chased your hands with frantic rolls of his hips.
his second orgasm hit him like a freight train. chan cried out, voice hoarse, as thick spurts of cum shot over your fingers and onto his already messy stomach. his cock pulsed violently in your grip, thighs shaking uncontrollably. you didn’t slow down. you kept pumping him through it, milking every drop, thumb pressing relentlessly against the underside of his head.
“too much— baby! fuck! i can’t—” he sobbed, oversensitive and trembling, but his hips were still weakly thrusting into your fist, greedy for more.You leaned down, lips brushing his ear.
“one more, channie. give me one more.”
he whimpered pathetically but nodded. your hands moved faster. one fist twisted around the head on every upstroke while the other pumped the base in perfect rhythm. you squeezed, stroked, and teased until his whole body was shaking.
chan came for the third time with a wrecked, guttural moan that sounded almost painful. his cock spurted weakly, thin ropes coating your fingers as his body convulsed. tears slipped from beneath the blindfold, sliding down his temple. his wrists yanked uselessly at the ties, chest heaving, lips swollen from biting them.
you finally slowed your hands, giving him soft, soothing strokes as he came down, spreading his cum over his spent cock and abs, cooing him.
chan lay there completely destroyed, limp, covered in sweat and his own release, breathing ragged, voice hoarse.
you gently removed the blindfold. his eyes were glassy, pupils blown wide, looking up at you with pure, dazed submission.
you kissed his trembling lips softly.
“there we go. now maybe next time you'll think about what you will send on your bubble,” you whispered.
chan let out a shaky, breathless laugh, voice completely wrecked.
“so that what this is all about?” he aaked, breath heaving still. he took your silence as a yes, smiling from it.
“hm, maybe you just need to work on your urges baby. you get so worked up so easily.”
“you get me so worked up, chan. and it's not even funny anymore.”
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