there’s not a mfer in this world I’ve ever respected more than 2009 dan. that was a mastermind. a man on a mission. he had one shot and he knew he had to take it. now he walks into the kitchen of the forever home he shares with the subject of “did you ever doubt your dream would come true” and gets greeted with “hello you stupid bitch”
san x fem!reader | smut minors dni san is rough | 2.8k
San isn’t, and has never been, a cocky man by nature.
Always humble, always giving rather than taking, San couldn’t imagine himself living a life only worried about his own needs. His friends, his family, his staff, the elderly woman he helped cross the street just last week, San never ran out of pieces of himself to give away. Always smiling, always empathetic, always there when you need him.
Always attentive. Talents aside, singing, dancing, his ear for music, your favorite thing about him was how much he knew about you. He could read your thoughts before you had them, read your feelings on your face, he even kept a period tracker on his phone so he could bring you what he called a ‘feel better basket’, he filled the same wicker basket every month with every single snack you like (he keeps a list of them in his notes app).
Tonight was a big night for him. It was his company’s annual gala thrown to celebrate their achievements throughout the year, a true extravaganza with a buffet, live music, the whole thing. All eight of them were here with their partners, who you were gathered with at a standing table in the back, watching them go one by one, speaking on the stage.
San was an incredible speaker, his stage presence wasn’t exclusive to performing music, when he spoke, the world listened. He looked incredible. Hair styled back to perfection, suit tailored to his body down to the millimeter, his posture so straight he radiated elegance. You couldn’t be happier for him, your beautiful boyfriend was succeeding, growing, under the spotlight. He deserved it all and more.
Yet you were sulking– and you couldn’t pinpoint why. Several glasses of champagne and too many horderves deep, you let the group surrounding you lead the conversation while you shift your weight back and forth on heeled feet. You scowled at the black glitter and silver stars scattered across the table, wondering why you couldn’t let yourself shine as brightly as they were.
You knew why, deep in your gut, but it was selfish, and you couldn’t admit it to yourself let alone out loud. The room was filled to the brim with people, his coworkers, staff, employees and important people from other companies who came to network and enjoy the free food. They all came to gawk at the eight boys who were to thank for their companies success, San had spoken to and thanked every single one, of course he did, leaving you to your own devices for ages. Too fucking long.
You had the partners, you’d made a group of your own, but you didn’t have him beside you. Neglect, abandonment, he left you all alone. Why not introduce you to all the important people filling the room, drinking up every single moment of his spare time? Let them learn your name, your face, so everyone would know you’re his, and have been his for years now? It pissed you off.
As he walked off the stage after a deep, low bow, you shot the rest of whatever was left in your glass down your throat. You were feeling the buzz, your irritation dancing on the edge of rage, the champagne only encouraging you to act on it.
You made eye contact from across the ballroom, your glass held up to your lips, your eyes meeting for just long enough to tell San everything he needed to know. He started for your table, body moving as quickly as it could in his form-fitting tuxedo, yet he was stopped. Pulled aside. Again.
You rejoined the conversation when Yunho returned to the table, the only single one out of the group. If San wasn’t available to give you the attention you desperately needed, maybe Yunho would. Ears perking up just to hear the tail end of his joke, you giggled, eyelashes fluttering, body leaning inward, Yunho didn’t catch it, nor did anyone else, but you could feel San’s eyes on you. Out of your peripherals you watched his head turn back and forth, focus leaving the people currently holding him in conversation to you, still across the room, clearly flirting with his friend.
Now it felt like a game: How far could you get before San reached you? Head tilted to the side, smile glued to your cheeks, one leg crossed in front of the other beneath your skin-tight evening gown. You even matched Yunho, the deep green of your dress corresponding to his tie, a detail you didn’t even consider. San did.
When he finally reached you, heavy palms on your waist and a soft kiss pressed to your cheek, you wondered if he caught any of it at all. It wasn’t until Yunho excused himself to use the bathroom that San pulled you into his side, a sweet, dimpled smile on his cheeks, an opposing look to the words he growled in your ear. “Meet me in the east stairwell. Ten minutes.”
A shiver ran down your spine as a fire bloomed in your chest, quick to burn your body up to your ears as he left your side again. You watched him strut to where Seonghwa and Hongjoong stood, fingers toying with the buttons on his suit jacket, chin held high as if he didn’t just repeat what pissed you off in the first place. The stairwell? At a gala? San was always one to talk things out, to see a situation from all perspectives, one half of you assumed he wanted a private area to quickly hash this out, the other knew that tone he’d just used on you all too well. Either way, you knew he’d put you back in your place.
You scurried off to the bathroom, fixing your hair, your makeup, even adding some extra lip gloss before you began your hunt for the stairwell. You gave yourself a minute or two of extra time for your hunt, you’d never been to this hall before, nor did you know where he wanted you.
Heels clacking against tiled floor was all that could be heard down the hallway as you carefully read each door you passed, until one opened up, pulling you through the threshold by the wrist. A yelp leaves your throat until you’re pressed against it, your boyfriend instantly pressed up against you, eyebrows laid heavy over his pointed gaze. “One fucking night that’s all about me.”
You glance around, eyes grazing the cement painted walls, the platform of the second floor under your feet. Your breathing comes out heavy yet scattered, a tremble to your voice from the shock of being pulled inside so harshly, San’s grip on your wrist tight. “W-what?”
“Every year,” you can feel his breath against your face, his forehead just centimeters from yours, “I have one night that’s all about me. You couldn’t let me have that?”
Your eyes go wide, you must be numb, you can’t feel the anger stabbing you with each pointed word, instead all you feel is the fire from ten minutes ago. His eyes were crazed, pupils blown, a smirk so devious stretched across his face it could’ve been sent from hell itself— his chuckle is dark and low, sinister, your knees threaten to buckle at the sound. “So needy for my attention it’s embarrassing. Didn’t think I saw you with Yunho?”
He lets go of your wrist, planting his hand against the door just behind your head. You can’t answer, not with him so close, frozen in confusion because you didn’t know if you were scared or horny. “Didn’t think I saw you down there, miserable, as if you’d rather be anywhere else than celebrating me?”
You swallow, words at the tip of your tongue, but all you can do is shake your head. San lets out a sound of amusement, but nothing about this was amusing to you. “You were chatting it up with Yunho, now you can’t speak? Funny.”
You shake your head again, fighting your chest to let words out. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
“Yes,” you breathe out and your body pushes forward, leg lifting to graze his own, your front pressing against his. San typically treated you nicely, your sex life was just a step up from purely vanilla, no choking, no slapping, no role playing— this felt like something neither of you have explored before, and god, you wanted it. Needed it. The pulsing in your core answered all your questions for you.
“Too fucking bad,” he grabs onto your thigh and pushes you backward against the door again, your skin hitting the cold metal with a thump, a whimper leaving your lips at the contact.
He kisses you with that same anger, with force behind it, not the sweet and passionate kisses you were used to receiving. He pushes his body into yours instead, pulling your dress up your leg so it rests on your thigh, his fingers gripping at your bare skin. You whimper again, core grinding into his, kissing him back with that same roughness while balancing one heeled foot on the floor. You wouldn’t just take it, no, but challenge it.
“Still gonna be a brat?” He asks against your lips, mouths barely a centimeter apart as he slips his fingers farther up your dress. “Be good and take it.”
“Why should I?” You counter, breath still hot and heavy, arms swung over his shoulder pads. “You ignored me all night.”
“I was doing my fucking job,” he hisses, fingers slipping up to your panties, fingers toying with the elastic. You gasp, hips bucking forward, and he places his thumb over your clit and presses. You jerk forward, met with a wall of a man as a moan slips through, and that devilish smirk plasters itself across San’s face once more. “Still gonna be a selfish brat? Or are you gonna let me have my way with you?”
You look up at him through your lashes, a sweet face spitting words. “I don’t want anything from you.”
“Who said anything about you wanting it?” He asks as he steps back, and a full body shiver racks through you. San, always selfless, always humble, this was a side of him you’d never seen before, you didn’t want him to stop. Luckily for you, he had no plans of stopping, especially not now that he’s cracked through your bratty exterior. “On your knees.”
You drop, your dark, tight evening gown met with the cement of the floor, knees screaming but you barely hear them as San slips off his jacket, laying it over the railing beside you. He makes quick work of his belt, pulling his cock out without barely pulling his pants down.
“Put that mouth to good use.”
You nearly moaned, but your mouth was too full too fast. Wasting no time, you let your tongue glide on the underside of him, his cock heavy in your mouth as he pushes in. His palm goes to your hair, gripping at your roots despite how you’d styled it for the night, pushing your head down. You gagged around him, not quite opened up yet, you tried your hardest to relax your throat, eyes screwed shut and fists clenched at your sides.
San is insane above you, a crazed smile on his lips, pupils still blown and wide. “This is what you needed, huh? Some attention? A cock to fill your throat?”
You looked up at him through wet lashes as he bobbed your head for you with his tight grip in your hair, San’s demeanor almost cracked, eyebrows bending inward with his lips parting just slightly. You’d smile if you could, but you were focused now, spit gushing around your lips as you took him down to the hair at the base of his shaft.
“There you go,” he groaned out, looking down at you like you were nothing. Your thighs clenched, core still pulsing, begging to be touched. “Just like that, slutty fuckin’ mouth taking me so well. You love this cock, huh?”
You tried to say mhm, tried to nod your head, and he laughs. “Can’t talk now with that mouth full, can you?”
He pulls out of your mouth while still holding you by the hair and you gasp, clearing your throat, trying to give yourself some form of reprieve. “Stand up. Wanna see if that slutty cunt can take me well, too.”
You stand, mind starting to get fuzzy around the edges, losing your thoughts as quickly as they come. You turn around without him asking, placing your palms against the door, legs spreading on their own. He’s on you in an instant, hoisting your dress onto your hips, and he whistles.
“So fucking wet, you like this?”
“Yes.”
“Of course you do,” he laughs, pulling your panties down to your thighs. “Who would’ve thought you were such a fucking slut?”
“F-Fuck,” you cry out as he slips two fingers inside, your head hanging below your shoulders, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open.
“Shut up,” his voice is sharp, commanding as he lines his cock up with your entrance. “The whole party doesn’t need to hear you crying like a dog.”
He pushes inside and your arms give out, one hand slapping over your mouth as your other elbow hits the metal of the door, catching you. He sets a brutal pace, giving you no time to adjust. “Look so pretty in this dress, would have taken you home and treated you right.”
Your back arches, moans muffled by your palm. “Instead you wanted to mope around like a fucking child that didn’t get what they want. Is this what you wanted, baby? Wanted to get fucked like a slut?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sir,” he repeats from behind you, pace still brutal, seeming completely unaffected. “I knew it, you fucking love this, love this cock, huh? Say it.”
“I love it.”
“Love what?”
“Love your cock,” you cry, your other elbow pressing against the metal of the door to hold you up. “Love your cock so much, Sannie, feels so fucking good, please don’t stop.”
“Say it again,” you finally hear the desperation in his voice, the underlying pitch of a whine, a crack in his demeanor.
You turn your head over your shoulder, looking at him through lowered, glassy eyes. “Love your cock so much, Sannie, feels so good, wanna cum so bad.”
You watch his face contort, stoic demeanor turning strained, eyebrows upturned, bottom lip between his teeth. “Please make me cum, I’m sorry I was a brat, love your cock so much. Please.”
He moans, a low, deep noise, his head falling forward. You couldn’t afford to slip a hand between your legs. His pace grows harder, his hips twitching with each thrust and your eyes blow wide. Is he really going to do this? Going to fuck you without making you finish?
You whimper, tears filling your waterline, voice strained and high pitched. “Please, Sannie, shit— Please.”
He wraps his arm around your hips, moving your dress out of the way as he circles his fingers tightly over your clit, still thrusting into you steadily. You sob at the relief, knees buckling, your orgasm almost immediately approaching from stimulation and how long it’s been building.
“Cum,” he barks out with an edge that hasn’t left him yet, and you can’t do anything but obey. Head drooping as your orgasm rips through you, his hips still inside you, feeding you shallow thrusts to ride you both through it. Your orgasm lasts, aftershocks making your knees threaten to really give out, tight fists you formed finally releasing their grip.
He pulls out slowly and lays your panties over the mess, pulling your dress back over your legs, and your body gives in to the door. He smiles as he tucks himself back in, pulling you into him by your hips.
“You okay?” He asks sweetly, pressing a kiss to your temple, moving a hair out of your face. “Wasn’t too much?”
“Fuck no,” you breathed, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder, eyes closed. “You need to get like that more often.”
He chuckles and it vibrates through you, you let out a hum of comfort. “Let’s get you home.”
“Let’s say goodbye—”
He sucks in a breath through his teeth when he sees your face. “We should Irish goodbye, trust me.”
You scowl, and he smiles sheepishly. He gives you a pat on your butt, ushering you forward. “Come on, when we get in the car you can tell me why all this happened, anyway.”
You groan, “Sannie, you already fucked it out of me. Can’t we leave it at that?”
“No,” he says shortly, simply, and it leaves no room for argument. “We’re gonna talk it out.”
@goldenglobes: The #GoldenGlobes award for Best Male Actor – Motion Picture – Musical/Comedy is yours, Sebastian Stan! Congrats on winning the 🏆 for A Different Man!
