Special Choreography
Title: Special Choreography
Length: Oneshot; 1788 words
Pairing: Rain/Yunho
Kink: Bondage and toys. (:
A/N: This is pretty much spur of the moment, cause I saw Sierra's post, and then I felt like writing hot smut that didnt need a storyline. Andd I just... Wanna get away from LC for some time before I write hot, horny Heechul. ((: So yeah. Here you go. (: Hope you like, and please comment? ((:
First time writing in second person POV, and also first time writing Rain/Yunho. I think Rain is awesome. His dancing skills are awesome. And he has washboard abs. Ohman. The last time he came to Singapore for a concert, the most expensive tickets were S$888. Which is crazy, cause normal concerts only go up to S$168 maximum. Or at least for what I know. Yeah. Hopefully if DBSK comes for a concert tickets wont be so expensive... I'll die if they were. >.<
For Sierra dear - rivium7fold . <3 I love you, and you still owe me a fic. ((: I forget what I asked you to write for me, eh. :/
****
You can’t help but shiver; the looks he’s giving you are so intense, so intense. Holding so many promises of something more. He smirks at you as you leave the stage to change into your next set of clothing, he due to perform his new song at your concert. The music starts - boom boom boom - and you can’t help but stare, stare at him from backstage.
He starts dancing to the beat, starts his sensual choreography. You respect him so much, they say he’s the best dancer in the whole of Korea, he’s the one everyone looks up to, everyone admires. Even people from overseas adore him; idolize him like he’s the only singer-dancer that is worth their attention. And you realize that people idolize you the same way, that people look at you dance, and say, “He’s on par with Rain.”
You’ve brushed that compliment off thousands of times, not wanting to become to egoistical. But as you watch him, you find that truly, he’s so magical, the way he moves, the way he grinds, the way he thrusts his hips. And you can’t help but wish he’d do exactly that in the bedroom, do exactly that with you. All of a sudden, you hope that you can be like him, that you can meet up with his standards… In the bedroom.
He corners you after your concert ends; doesn’t he have anything on the next morning? Grinning, he shakes his head, mouth brushing against the shell of your ear, hot breath causing your heart to skip a beat. “I don’t have anything on tomorrow, but if you’d like, I could have a special dance lesson… With you.”
You can feel your arousal hardening at his words, mind clouding over as they sink in deep. You don’t know why you nod, why you agree to meet him at his hotel room later that night, after your celebratory dinner. But then he leaves, waving a hand as his figure strolls away into the distance.
Yoochun and Junsu try to chat with you during dinner, while all of you are downing drinks and celebrating the night’s success with everyone involved in preparations for the concert. But you are just spacing out, wondering what he has in store for you. Jaejoong notices your daze, clucks his tongue as he pulls Changmin towards him, kissing him passionately.
You see the tongues sliding hungrily over each other, wonder why none of your managers have stopped them yet. But then you realize that everyone thinks they’re drunk, that they’re just doing it out of pure lust, but you know they’re not. They’re not. And the sight of them making out right in front of you makes you even harder, makes you wish you were doing that with your guest performer for the night.
“Yunho,” suddenly he materializes before your eyes, beaming friendly and without the intensity of his previous stares thrown at you. He holds out a glass of vodka, waiting for you to take it from his hand. He grins as you down the liquor in one full gulp, almost smirks as your world spins, eyelids feeling heavy and sliding shut.
When you wake up, you’re no longer in the huge ballroom of the hotel; rather, you’re in a comfortable hotel room. Nobody’s around, but by the apparent cologne scent of the room, you know it’s his. You blink your eyes, trying to stretch and work out the kinks in your muscles, only to find… You’re bound to the bed.
Squirming, you realize a length of silky rope has been tied around your wrists, securely binding them together and to the headboard. Your gaze drifts to your body, finding that you’re naked. Fear creeps over your body, runs down your spine in shivers. You want to scream, desperately want to get out of this predicament. You don’t know what’s going to happen.
Out of the blue, he chuckles, striding into your sight. “W-what are you doing to me?” you shout, writhing on his bed. He crawls over you, lightly grinding down on your arousal.
“I’m teaching you a special choreography,” he answers, smirking and running fingers down your side. You pant, he’s caressing all the places that are most sensitive, still grinding on your length, making it leak even more precome than before. “Don’t you want it?”
You nod fervently, not trusting yourself to speak at this point. He’s almost like an idol to you, someone you’ve taken dancing tips from ever since you started dancing in your teens. And now he’s here, laying over you, promising the best night of your life, the best dance you’ve ever done. Of course you agree.
Lust overcomes you as he captures your lips in a deep kiss, tongue mimicking the action you so very want him to carry out with you. He suckles on your lower lip, biting shallowly as you moan, moan for more. You want more, more to satisfy that desire building up in you.
Then two fingers are prodding at your entrance, one leg already thrown over his shoulder. You sigh as the digits push into you, pumping slowly, stretching you so well. They hook forward, coming into contact with your prostate, leading you to yell in pleasure. He lets out a low chuckle, leisurely stroking your arousal once more.
And as the ministrations overwhelm you, you finding yourself rushing towards release, he stops you. Fist tightly holding the base of your length, fingers sliding out of you as he reaches for an item. “You’re such a slut, Yunho,” he sneers, pushing the cock ring down your dripping erection, “Who ever knew?”
No one, you want to answer, no one has ever known that I’m such a slut. I’m the leader, you want to shout back at him, it’s not appropriate for me to be so promiscuous. He rests your leg back on the bed, knee bent. “You’re such a whore,” he mutters, fingers turning the dial on the cock ring.
It comes alive right around your cock, maddening vibrations shimmying up your abdomen. You almost scream at the sensation, almost yell at him to take it off. You can feel orgasm barreling towards you all over again, only to result in abrupt halt; he’s laughing now. Laughing, laughing at your helplessness, your inability to come.
Your legs are spread far away from each other, and you can make out the ‘click’ of cuffs binding them to the bedposts. Now you’re all tied down, hands and legs firmly roped to the bed, immobilizing you. He continues to chuckle, weight making the mattress dip as he sits down beside your torso.
You wonder what’s he’s going to do, what he has in store. He reaches for a box on the nightstand, opening it, the lid not allowing you to see its contents. “I’m so glad I brought this along,” he grins evilly, grasping objects from the box, “I knew I’d have some use for it.”
Before you know it, his mouth is on your right nipple, fingers playing with your left. You groan, getting more aroused than previously, nipples turning into perky nubs that stand out. Your length’s an angry red, dripping precome like a stream of water, but he’s not giving that any attention. Then suddenly there are clamps over your nipples, squeezing them tight.
The teeth of the clamps bite down harshly on the skin around your sensitive nipple, causing you to pant and breathe like your lungs are out of oxygen. He only smirks, laving his tongue down your sternum, not touching anywhere that you really want him to touch.
“Please!” you beg, badly wanting him to just fuck you and let you orgasm. You’re so full of lust, so restless from not being able to move as you please, and you writhe as much as you can. He dips a finger into your belly button, gently pushing in and out, in and out. Teasing you, showing you what he can do to another part of your body.
“You have such a nice ass,” he compliments, smiling at you as he kneels between your legs, “Why haven’t you thought of making extra money with it?” And you want to cry, because he’s right there, just right there already. His hard length almost touches yours, and you yearn for the contact. You want it so bad, want it so bad.
“You could always dance for me, you know,” he suggests, still not making any further advances, “I could teach you one of the best dances ever, Yunho.” All of a sudden he pushes into you, fills you up in one solid thrust. And you scream, the sheer surprise of it all causing you to hitch your breath.
When he deems you’re already adjusted to his girth, he pulls out slightly, before thrusting back into you. You let out another scream, he’s hit your prostate dead-on. Then he doesn’t move anymore, just stays there, staring right into your eyes.
“Move your hips, Yunho,” he orders, “Dance.” And you do, you gyrate your hips as much as your position allows, press yourself so tightly against him. You impale yourself onto him again and again, his tip brushing your prostate every time. Moans and groans leave your mouth like it’s a solo song, like you’re performing all by yourself on the stage - his bed.
And then he grips your hips securely, breaking into an animalistic pace. He assaults your prostate every single time, pushing you closer and closer and closer to the brink of insanity. You sense him exploding into you, load covering your insides so hard you doubt whether you’ll walk properly tomorrow.
He releases your left wrist. “Touch yourself, slut,” the command is fierce, your fingers instantly closing themselves over your arousal. You can feel his fingers playing with the clamps still fastened around your nipples, moving his hips in circles as to further arouse you. Then you scream one last time, beg him - please please please - to remove the cock ring around your length.
And you find yourself freefalling over the cliff of ecstasy, come splattering all over your torso, some landing on the sheets. He pulls out of you, detaching the nipple clamps from your sore nubs.
“Hyung,” is all that you can manage, your voice totally gone from the concert and the amazing sex you just had. He grins, softer this time, unlocking the cuffs around your legs. He lies himself beside you, placing almost tender kisses around your nipples.
You wonder why he’s not untying the rope around your other wrist, why he’s still lying beside you. Does he want more?
“I don’t have anything on tomorrow, Yunho,” he smiles against your chest.
“And last I checked, so do you.”
****
Length: Oneshot; 1788 words
Pairing: Rain/Yunho
Kink: Bondage and toys. (:
A/N: This is pretty much spur of the moment, cause I saw Sierra's post, and then I felt like writing hot smut that didnt need a storyline. Andd I just... Wanna get away from LC for some time before I write hot, horny Heechul. ((: So yeah. Here you go. (: Hope you like, and please comment? ((:
First time writing in second person POV, and also first time writing Rain/Yunho. I think Rain is awesome. His dancing skills are awesome. And he has washboard abs. Ohman. The last time he came to Singapore for a concert, the most expensive tickets were S$888. Which is crazy, cause normal concerts only go up to S$168 maximum. Or at least for what I know. Yeah. Hopefully if DBSK comes for a concert tickets wont be so expensive... I'll die if they were. >.<
For Sierra dear - rivium7fold . <3 I love you, and you still owe me a fic. ((: I forget what I asked you to write for me, eh. :/
****
You can’t help but shiver; the looks he’s giving you are so intense, so intense. Holding so many promises of something more. He smirks at you as you leave the stage to change into your next set of clothing, he due to perform his new song at your concert. The music starts - boom boom boom - and you can’t help but stare, stare at him from backstage.
He starts dancing to the beat, starts his sensual choreography. You respect him so much, they say he’s the best dancer in the whole of Korea, he’s the one everyone looks up to, everyone admires. Even people from overseas adore him; idolize him like he’s the only singer-dancer that is worth their attention. And you realize that people idolize you the same way, that people look at you dance, and say, “He’s on par with Rain.”
You’ve brushed that compliment off thousands of times, not wanting to become to egoistical. But as you watch him, you find that truly, he’s so magical, the way he moves, the way he grinds, the way he thrusts his hips. And you can’t help but wish he’d do exactly that in the bedroom, do exactly that with you. All of a sudden, you hope that you can be like him, that you can meet up with his standards… In the bedroom.
He corners you after your concert ends; doesn’t he have anything on the next morning? Grinning, he shakes his head, mouth brushing against the shell of your ear, hot breath causing your heart to skip a beat. “I don’t have anything on tomorrow, but if you’d like, I could have a special dance lesson… With you.”
You can feel your arousal hardening at his words, mind clouding over as they sink in deep. You don’t know why you nod, why you agree to meet him at his hotel room later that night, after your celebratory dinner. But then he leaves, waving a hand as his figure strolls away into the distance.
Yoochun and Junsu try to chat with you during dinner, while all of you are downing drinks and celebrating the night’s success with everyone involved in preparations for the concert. But you are just spacing out, wondering what he has in store for you. Jaejoong notices your daze, clucks his tongue as he pulls Changmin towards him, kissing him passionately.
You see the tongues sliding hungrily over each other, wonder why none of your managers have stopped them yet. But then you realize that everyone thinks they’re drunk, that they’re just doing it out of pure lust, but you know they’re not. They’re not. And the sight of them making out right in front of you makes you even harder, makes you wish you were doing that with your guest performer for the night.
“Yunho,” suddenly he materializes before your eyes, beaming friendly and without the intensity of his previous stares thrown at you. He holds out a glass of vodka, waiting for you to take it from his hand. He grins as you down the liquor in one full gulp, almost smirks as your world spins, eyelids feeling heavy and sliding shut.
When you wake up, you’re no longer in the huge ballroom of the hotel; rather, you’re in a comfortable hotel room. Nobody’s around, but by the apparent cologne scent of the room, you know it’s his. You blink your eyes, trying to stretch and work out the kinks in your muscles, only to find… You’re bound to the bed.
Squirming, you realize a length of silky rope has been tied around your wrists, securely binding them together and to the headboard. Your gaze drifts to your body, finding that you’re naked. Fear creeps over your body, runs down your spine in shivers. You want to scream, desperately want to get out of this predicament. You don’t know what’s going to happen.
Out of the blue, he chuckles, striding into your sight. “W-what are you doing to me?” you shout, writhing on his bed. He crawls over you, lightly grinding down on your arousal.
“I’m teaching you a special choreography,” he answers, smirking and running fingers down your side. You pant, he’s caressing all the places that are most sensitive, still grinding on your length, making it leak even more precome than before. “Don’t you want it?”
You nod fervently, not trusting yourself to speak at this point. He’s almost like an idol to you, someone you’ve taken dancing tips from ever since you started dancing in your teens. And now he’s here, laying over you, promising the best night of your life, the best dance you’ve ever done. Of course you agree.
Lust overcomes you as he captures your lips in a deep kiss, tongue mimicking the action you so very want him to carry out with you. He suckles on your lower lip, biting shallowly as you moan, moan for more. You want more, more to satisfy that desire building up in you.
Then two fingers are prodding at your entrance, one leg already thrown over his shoulder. You sigh as the digits push into you, pumping slowly, stretching you so well. They hook forward, coming into contact with your prostate, leading you to yell in pleasure. He lets out a low chuckle, leisurely stroking your arousal once more.
And as the ministrations overwhelm you, you finding yourself rushing towards release, he stops you. Fist tightly holding the base of your length, fingers sliding out of you as he reaches for an item. “You’re such a slut, Yunho,” he sneers, pushing the cock ring down your dripping erection, “Who ever knew?”
No one, you want to answer, no one has ever known that I’m such a slut. I’m the leader, you want to shout back at him, it’s not appropriate for me to be so promiscuous. He rests your leg back on the bed, knee bent. “You’re such a whore,” he mutters, fingers turning the dial on the cock ring.
It comes alive right around your cock, maddening vibrations shimmying up your abdomen. You almost scream at the sensation, almost yell at him to take it off. You can feel orgasm barreling towards you all over again, only to result in abrupt halt; he’s laughing now. Laughing, laughing at your helplessness, your inability to come.
Your legs are spread far away from each other, and you can make out the ‘click’ of cuffs binding them to the bedposts. Now you’re all tied down, hands and legs firmly roped to the bed, immobilizing you. He continues to chuckle, weight making the mattress dip as he sits down beside your torso.
You wonder what’s he’s going to do, what he has in store. He reaches for a box on the nightstand, opening it, the lid not allowing you to see its contents. “I’m so glad I brought this along,” he grins evilly, grasping objects from the box, “I knew I’d have some use for it.”
Before you know it, his mouth is on your right nipple, fingers playing with your left. You groan, getting more aroused than previously, nipples turning into perky nubs that stand out. Your length’s an angry red, dripping precome like a stream of water, but he’s not giving that any attention. Then suddenly there are clamps over your nipples, squeezing them tight.
The teeth of the clamps bite down harshly on the skin around your sensitive nipple, causing you to pant and breathe like your lungs are out of oxygen. He only smirks, laving his tongue down your sternum, not touching anywhere that you really want him to touch.
“Please!” you beg, badly wanting him to just fuck you and let you orgasm. You’re so full of lust, so restless from not being able to move as you please, and you writhe as much as you can. He dips a finger into your belly button, gently pushing in and out, in and out. Teasing you, showing you what he can do to another part of your body.
“You have such a nice ass,” he compliments, smiling at you as he kneels between your legs, “Why haven’t you thought of making extra money with it?” And you want to cry, because he’s right there, just right there already. His hard length almost touches yours, and you yearn for the contact. You want it so bad, want it so bad.
“You could always dance for me, you know,” he suggests, still not making any further advances, “I could teach you one of the best dances ever, Yunho.” All of a sudden he pushes into you, fills you up in one solid thrust. And you scream, the sheer surprise of it all causing you to hitch your breath.
When he deems you’re already adjusted to his girth, he pulls out slightly, before thrusting back into you. You let out another scream, he’s hit your prostate dead-on. Then he doesn’t move anymore, just stays there, staring right into your eyes.
“Move your hips, Yunho,” he orders, “Dance.” And you do, you gyrate your hips as much as your position allows, press yourself so tightly against him. You impale yourself onto him again and again, his tip brushing your prostate every time. Moans and groans leave your mouth like it’s a solo song, like you’re performing all by yourself on the stage - his bed.
And then he grips your hips securely, breaking into an animalistic pace. He assaults your prostate every single time, pushing you closer and closer and closer to the brink of insanity. You sense him exploding into you, load covering your insides so hard you doubt whether you’ll walk properly tomorrow.
He releases your left wrist. “Touch yourself, slut,” the command is fierce, your fingers instantly closing themselves over your arousal. You can feel his fingers playing with the clamps still fastened around your nipples, moving his hips in circles as to further arouse you. Then you scream one last time, beg him - please please please - to remove the cock ring around your length.
And you find yourself freefalling over the cliff of ecstasy, come splattering all over your torso, some landing on the sheets. He pulls out of you, detaching the nipple clamps from your sore nubs.
“Hyung,” is all that you can manage, your voice totally gone from the concert and the amazing sex you just had. He grins, softer this time, unlocking the cuffs around your legs. He lies himself beside you, placing almost tender kisses around your nipples.
You wonder why he’s not untying the rope around your other wrist, why he’s still lying beside you. Does he want more?
“I don’t have anything on tomorrow, Yunho,” he smiles against your chest.
“And last I checked, so do you.”
****