Bias Biased
m+ bias optional

kpop scenario blog

He Meant Business. You Felt a Challenge. - M+

While I am watching SBS Gayo Daejun…I’m on a use-able computer so I will work hard for my lovely readers. It’s about 7 am here, so I apologize for typos as always and especially if there are any parts that don’t really make sense. Haha~~ I hope you enjoy!! ^^

Request: “When you are a dancer and do some dance routine with a male partner wearing only a men’s shirt and he sees it on the TV. He gets angry and jealous and waits until you come back home. Rough M+++”

Slowly, you paced towards the man sitting in the chair in front of you, accenting the fact that you were wearing only his dress shirt with barely visible shorts underneath. You playfully rubbed your thighs up and down as you reached the chair. Standing over him now, you lean down to roll your body on him. Your hands reached up from his legs and grab the ends of his shirt, quickly ripping it off of him. Now your hands eagerly wander over his exposed abs and toned chest, using his shoulder as a pivot, and circling around him like a lioness circles her prey.

That was when he couldn’t take it any longer; he gets up and spins you around, grinding into your backside, and you dip your body down, his entire front stimulated by your back.

His hand guides your back to bend you over. Obeying at first, you quickly throw your body back at him, flipping yourself around to face him. Your faces begin to move closer, mouths open, waiting for the kiss, his hand trails down the buttons across your shirt, and the lights black out.

Wild applause and cheers erupt from all around you as the lights turn back on. The music has stopped, and all of your coworkers as well as yourself begin bowing and thanking each other and the fans.

That was the latest choreography from the group you performed with. As soon as the cameras were off you bolted backstage to cool off. An entire bottle of water was downed in less than a minute, and you gladly accepted offerings of folders and papers to fan yourself off with. You felt disgusting as you felt the sweat dripping all over you, seeping through your costume and clinging to your body.

It wasn’t as if you weren’t wearing anything underneath, it was a little uncomfortable as you were wearing a thick nude bodysuit underneath, to make it appear as if you weren’t wearing anything under the shirt, and only your underwear and tiny shorts concealing your lower half.

Quickly you asked around to find out if you were still needed for more filming or if you could go home.

All the staff members you talked to said it would be fine if I were to leave early.

“Have to go rush home to your jealous man?” one of the stylist unnies joked, while sending a wink in your direction.

You breathily laughed in response, throwing a pair of sweatpants on over your shorts, “Like he would have watched this. I reminded him it was on but I doubt he will remember to watch it, he’s probably absorbed in some phone game or catching up on all of the shows and movies he’s missed during his last promotion.”

She giggled to herself, “Good luck with that, sweetie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You smiled and waved to her as she was finishing packing her things, “Goodbye! See you later!”

Deciding to make a small detour on the way home, you stopped by a friend’s house to see what she thought of your performance, you knew she would tell you the honest truth no matter what.

“It was,” she puzzled for a moment, running her finger along her chin, “a bit much sexually, but your actual dancing was exquisite!”

You shrugged and laughed, “We all figured it will get banned soon or we will have to change the choreography but it was at least fun to perform it like that live at least once.”

She inquired about what your boyfriend would think about the dance, and in return you gave her the same spiel about how he probably didn’t even watch it.

The two of you caught up for a little while longer before you went to check your phone to read the time.

Dead. Wonderful.

She checked the time, and you decided it was time to go. This was around the time you were supposed to be leaving the station anyway, and you thought you should hurry home, eager to once again be in the arms of the only man you wanted to touch and let touch you.

Your dance partner had the chiseled body of an actual god, and you frequently received comments asking you to compare his body to that of your boyfriend’s, to which you always easily replied your boyfriend.

Sure, the man you worked with was hot, but the man you came home to every night made you hot. That was all your mind could concentrate on as you drove home.

How his hair would be unkempt and un-styled; how he might be sitting on the couch, or standing in the kitchen, or laying on the bed; and you laughed trying to convince yourself that he might be wearing a nice outfit.

Then you got to thinking about every little thing about him that drove you crazy. His eyes, his nose, his lips, his voice, his neck, his hands, his feet, his arms, his shoulders, his collar, his legs, his thighs, his ass, his chest, his torso, his….you giggled to yourself thinking about your boyfriend’s nether regions.

When you finally sprung up into your place, you noticed he wasn’t in the kitchen. He wasn’t in the living room either. In fact, all of the lights were turned almost completely off, except for the hall light. Had he left?

You then remembered your phone was dead and you began to worry something had happened. You slinked into the bedroom and set your things down on the dresser.

Softly you called his name out, but received no answer.

Hurriedly, you began to charge your phone, and turned it on as soon as it would allow you to. He had called once and shortly after left you a text, “Where are you?”

You called for him, but he didn’t pick up. Instead, you heard his phone ringing. You searched around to find the source. Was he just messing with you? Had he been that bored home by himself?

You opened the door to the spare room and clicked the light on, and there he was.

“What are you doing?” you demanded, a little bit of irritation in your voice.

He didn’t even turn his head to look at you.

Now you were worried, did something bad happen? You made your way towards him and crouched down to be closer to eye-level with him.

You spoke his name with determination. He said nothing back; he wouldn’t even look at you.

“Do I need to send you to a mental ward? Should I call your manager? What am I supposed to do with you?”

Finally, his eyes slowly dragged themselves to meet yours with a fierce look.

“That was quite a little show,” he said venomously.

You were torn between the excitement that he actually watched it, and the confusion of why he was reacting like this.

“Where were you after the filming ended?”

Thinking his question odd, you answered him anyway, “I asked around and got let out early to chat with one of the stylist unnies, and then I stopped by a friend’s house. I hurried home after I was done…”

“Was he as good in bed as he was on stage?”

Did sweat get inside your ear and block it up or did he just actually accuse you of sleeping with your dance partner?

Fighting to hold back your laughter, you replied, “I’m sorry, but my phone died.”

“That’s your best excuse?” he scoffed, standing up.

“What are you insinuating?” He didn’t respond. “Do you seriously think that I was out cheating on you do you want to talk to my friends for the alibi?” At this point, you exploded in laughter.

He obviously didn’t think this was as funny as you did, because as you were trying to recover from the lack of oxygen in your brain from not breathing due to laughter, you felt his push propel yourself away from him. You staggered backwards in disbelief.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO TELL YOU?!” you exploded, shoving him back.



Then your back was against the wall, and his body was pressed against yours, his hands aggressively tugging at your clothing. His lips crashed against your own so fast you began to taste blood, although you weren’t certain whose lip had split open.

Your neck rolled to the side and soon you felt his hot mouth against your skin, sucking and biting every patch of skin he could.

When did he find time to remove his shirt? What were you letting him do to you? He could not get away with something like this.

Putting your hands between yourself and him, you quickly slipped out of his grasp, escaping to the doorway.

His eyes got dark as you managed to slip out of the room and into the hallway. He stalked you into the bedroom where he cornered you again, and without saying a word, lead you to the bed.

He passionately yanked your sweatpants off, and peeled away the rest of your clothing, yet there he was, sitting on top of you smugly, only missing his shirt.

His hands greedily explored your chilling skin, playing with and kissing every little part of your body.

You reeled under his touch. He had just begun playing with your breasts when your hips unexpectedly rolled upwards into him. You needed him. No one else could make you feel like that.

Your reaction caused him to bite down on you, causing you to wince and moan. At your sudden noise, he lifted his head up and put a finger against his lips.

He quickly finished undressing himself and began teasing you more by only rubbing himself against you.

A small, “Please,” escaped your lips by mistake. He smacked your thigh in response. You let out a gasp of shock and he smacked you again.

It began to feel like a game and you began to play with him, encouraging him by making slight noises until he finally pushed into you. A legitimate cry escaped your lips, and just as fast he grabbed your face hard and pressed his close to yours, “I dare you to make one more noise. Do it.”

He meant business.

You felt a challenge.

Never before had be been this controlling of you. Was it really the dance? You thought back to the moves…at first you began to write it off as him being irrational. Then you realized just how raunchy the choreo was, you had displaced yourself from it so much through practicing it was like nothing to you anymore.

A lump built in your throat and a pit began in your stomach. You were starting to feel awful that you literally laughed at the person you loved the most when he practically told you he thought you were cheating. Granted he showed his emotions in a strange way, but you should have understood him better.

Without saying another word, you knew exactly what you were going to do.

First, you threw your boyfriend off of yourself. Then lead him back into the spare room, where you pulled the chair out into the center of the room and sat him down in it, and began performing your dance, with both of you completely naked.

It made for an interesting starter, but he ended up pinning you to the ground after he had had enough.

Your body was practically numb at this point, but you soon felt yourself coming as he furiously pumped in and out of you. All of the built up sighs and moans merged and unleashed itself in the form of a wicked scream that sounded very similar to your boyfriend’s name.

After that a familiar sneaky smile crept up on his lips again as he lay on top of you panting. That was the exact moment you realized he had come way before you but kept diligently working until he made you scream.

He got up and left the room for a moment. Shortly after he returned with the comforter from your bed and laid it over the top of you as he laid next to you on the floor.

You mustered all your energy to lean over and give him a quick kiss before laying your head on top of his chest. His hand swept over your face before his other arm draped itself around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

You felt a giggle bubble in his chest, “I just wanted a reason to spank you.”

A smile spread across your face as you kicked your leg into his and heard him try to keep in a whimper just before falling asleep.

December 29, 2012 with 23 notes
  1. prettygirljosh reblogged this from biasbiased
  2. biasbiased posted this