The bass of the club thumps through the floorboards, vibrating up through the soles of your heels and settling deep in your chest. You look breathtaking tonight, wearing a dress that clings to every curve like a second skin, leaving just enough to the imagination to keep every man in the room staring. You know you’re the center of attention, but you play it cool, leaning back against the VIP booth with a smirk, glancing at the men trying to catch your eye with a look of bored indifference. You’ve always been a challenge, and you enjoy the chase more than the catch.
Then you see him.
He’s standing near the edge of the dance floor, draped in a loose fitting black silk shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of tanned skin. He has an electric energy about him a magnetic, confident aura that cuts through the noise of the crowd. When your eyes meet, he doesn't look away. Instead, he gives you a slow, knowing smile that tells you he’s used to getting exactly what he wants.
He makes his way toward you, moving with a fluid, athletic grace. As he slides into the booth next to you, the scent of expensive cologne and something warm and masculine envelops you.
"You've been ignoring everyone in this room all night," he says, his voice a smooth, charismatic drawl. "I find that incredibly attractive."
You arch an eyebrow, glancing at him sideways. "And what makes you think you're the exception?"
He chuckles, a low sound that vibrates in his throat. "Because I'm not asking for permission. I'm telling you that I'm not leaving this club without you."
The confidence is intoxicating. You spend the next hour playing a dangerous game of tension, trading sharp wit for lingering touches. He’s completely focused on you, making you feel like the only person in the room. By the time the lights dim and the music peaks, the tension is unbearable. You lean in, whispering into his ear that you're bored of the club, and he doesn't need to be told twice.
The moment the door to his private hotel suite clicks shut, the "hard to get" act vanishes. He pins you against the door, his hands gripping your waist with a strength that makes your breath hitch. He kisses you with a hunger that borders on desperation, his tongue swirling against yours in a rhythmic, demanding dance.
"I've been wanting to do this since I saw you across the room," he groans against your lips.
He lifts you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you toward the bed. He drops you onto the plush sheets, his eyes scanning your body with sheer adoration and lust. He strips slowly, revealing a physique that is lean, toned, and perfectly sculpted the body of a professional performer. Every muscle in his chest and abdomen is defined, glistening slightly under the dim ambient light.
When he moves back over you, he doesn't rush. He spends an eternity kissing the sensitive skin of your neck and collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. His hands roam your curves, squeezing your hips and thighs, marking you as his. He moves down, his lips finding your nipples, teasing them with a flick of his tongue and a gentle suck that sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. You arch your back, your fingers digging into his shoulders, begging for more.
He slides down further, his face hovering between your thighs. You gasp as he tastes you, his tongue expert and relentless. He doesn't just lick he probes, his tongue swirling and pulsing against your clit with a precision that makes you lose your mind. He uses his fingers to stretch you open, sliding two deep inside, stirring the heat within you while his tongue continues to flicker and pulse against your most sensitive spot. You're shaking, your toes curling into the sheets, sobbing into the pillow as he drives you toward a shattering peak. He sucks your clit into his mouth, creating a vacuum of pleasure that makes your hips jerk uncontrollably.
Just as you're about to break, he replaces his tongue with his length. He enters you in one slow, deep thrust that fills you completely, stretching your walls and hitting your cervix. You let out a loud, guttural moan, your eyes fluttering shut as he begins to move.
His rhythm is incredible leaving you breathing heavy. He moves with a powerful, driving force, hitting your sweet spot with every single stroke. He lifts your legs higher, pinning them against his chest to get deeper, his movements becoming faster and more frantic. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing with the sound of your synchronized breathing. Every time he bottoms out, you feel the heavy thud of his pelvis against your own, a rhythmic pounding that echoes the beat of the club you just left.
"You're so tight," he gasps, his voice strained with pleasure, "I can feel you squeezing me... God, you feel incredible."
He grips your hands, interlocking his fingers with yours and pinning them to the pillow as he delivers a series of hard, punishing thrusts. He switches positions, flipping you onto your stomach and pulling your hips up high, arching your back. From behind, he drives into you with a primal intensity, his chest pressing against your back. He reaches around to pinch your nipples, the dual sensation of the friction below and the sharp pleasure above pushing you over the edge.
The friction is overwhelming, building a pressure in your gut that explodes into a massive, toe curling orgasm. You scream into the pillow as waves of pleasure crash through you. As you peak, he lets out a low growl and delivers a final, deep surge, his body shuddering as he spills himself deep inside you, filling you with his warmth. He collapses against you, both of you drenched in sweat and breathless.
He holds you for a long time, whispering sweet things into your ear, his warmth radiating through you. Eventually, the exhaustion of the night takes over, and you drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep in his arms.
The next morning, you wake up to the soft golden light of the sun filtering through the curtains. You stretch, feeling the pleasant ache in your muscles, and notice he's already awake, scrolling through his phone.
As you reach for your dress on the floor, your eyes catch a glimpse of a magazine lying on the bedside table. It’s a K pop fashion spread. On the cover is a strikingly handsome young man with a confident, energetic aura, looking exactly like the man currently smiling at you from the bed.
The caption reads: Anderson Taylor of WAYF BOYS: The Rising Star of the Global Stage.
You freeze, looking from the magazine to him. "Wait... you're Anderson Taylor?"
He lets out a soft, playful laugh, pulling you back into the sheets with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I wondered when you'd figure that out. But for now, let's forget about the fame. I think I'm still hungry for more."
pairings; idol!anderson x fem!reader too active anderson, so many kisses, clingy anderson, touch dependency
wc; 694
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𖦹 extrovertbf!anderson: Anderson is that clingy boyfriend who loves it when you give him nicknames, so he’s constantly sticking to you and trying to get you to say his name. One time, you went to the studio to see him, and since the other members were around, you sat as far away from Anderson as possible. But of course, your boyfriend didn't care; he squeezed onto the single-seater chair next to you, wrapped his arm tightly around your waist, and pulled your back against his chest. You tilted your head back to look at Anderson and tried to push him away.
“Andy! Do you realize the members are right here?” Unlike your whispered protest, Anderson let out a loud laugh and rested his cheek against the top of your head. “They aren't strangers, babe; they're family. It’s fine.”
𖦹 extrovertbf!anderson: Anderson, your boyfriend who had been miserable missing you for weeks due to rehearsals and recording sessions, finally came over to your apartment; he followed you around everywhere inside just like a duckling following its mother.
“Andy, go sit in the living room for a bit; I need to take a shower.” He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. “I need to shower too—let's go together.” Knowing you couldn't win an argument with him, you sighed and walked into the bathroom.
𖦹 extrovertbf!anderson: When you entered the company and walked into the rehearsal room—with the help of his bandmates—to surprise him, Anderson ran straight toward you the moment he saw you; you were so flustered you just froze in place. Seizing the moment, he hugged you tightly and spun you around.
𖦹 extrovertbf!anderson: Anderson is the kind of boyfriend who wants to introduce you to everyone and show you off to the whole world without feeling the need to hide your relationship; even if you try to pull away or let go, he constantly holds your hand, and when he isn't holding your hand, his hands are always resting on your body. He doesn't hesitate to touch you.
𖦹 extrovertbf!anderson: Anderson, the boyfriend who sneaks away from rehearsals to come to your apartment; even though you try to push him away because he’s sweaty and the weather is sweltering, he can’t keep his hands off you. Even when you move to the single armchair to sit by yourself, he corners you there just like he does in the studio, pulling you onto his lap once he sits down. You sigh, overwhelmed by the heat, and resign yourself to your fate, resting your head against his chest. Anderson is delighted with the situation; naturally, he was the happiest when you finally stopped trying to push him away.
𖦹 extrovertbf!anderson: Anderson, the bouncy, restless boyfriend who can’t contain his excitement because you surprised him for his birthday by taking him to his favorite spot; you had asked him to wait while you went to a nearby restaurant to pick up the cake. You told him to stay put, went to the restaurant, and quickly returned to where you’d left him. Although he was surprised to see the cake in your hands, he hopped and skipped over to you as you approached singing "Happy Birthday," and blew out the candles. He took the cake from you, set it on a nearby bench, gave you a tight hug, and—after pulling away—began planting a rapid succession of kisses all over your face.
𖦹 extrovertbf!anderson: Anderson, the boyfriend who makes you feel loved even when he isn't physically with you; he tells you he loves you in every way possible—via text, phone call, video chat, or in person. Even when he’s swamped with work, he’ll suddenly send a text out of the blue just to say "I love you." Even when he’s busy, he wants to call and hear your voice, and he won't hang up without telling you he loves you. During video calls, he starts by blowing a kiss to the phone and saying he loves you, and he ends the call the exact same way. If he is by your side, he whispers that he loves you or says it out loud at every opportunity.
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Hiii Actually, this was a request—specifically for Andrew—but I only realized that right as I was about to publish the piece after finishing it 😓😓 Don't worry, though; I'll cook something up for Andrew too 💗💗💗
