Your relationship with San was anything but simple. It was neither your fault nor his. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

After a long final year at university, you were happy to be free of your shackles, cruising down the highway with your windows down. Your music blared through the neighbourhood as you approached your childhood home, happy to start the summer after slaving away for your last year.

What you had not expected as you pulled into your mother’s driveway however was both her and her new husband to be standing there.

The man standing beside your mother, smiling like he belonged there, was a stranger. Too young, too handsome, too perfect. And yet, she clung to his arm like they’d known each other forever. Your mother was beaming from ear to ear as she described their supposed whirlwind romance, which had spiralled into a marriage after six months of knowing each other. Her new husband - Choi San - was drop dead-gorgeous and smiling at you like he already knew something you didn’t.

“But don’t worry Y/N, I’m sure you and San are gonna get along just fine! He likes a lot of your sports shit, you know.”

You shifted uncomfortably infront of your car, locking it with a nervous laugh and nod. San shot you a quick, unreadable glance before turning back to your mother, squeezing her arm with practiced ease. Then, with a slow smile, he stepped forward, extending a hand toward you.

“It’s lovely to meet you Y/N, your mother speaks highly of you. I hear you started taekwondo training while away studying?”

Relaxing a little at the mention of your current interest, you nodded happily and took his hand, shaking it firmly. You were fairly certain that he was lying about the way your mother talked about you, though. He had soft hands, and his touch was gentle. You were taking a liking to San already.

“Yeah, yellow belt for now. Nothing too serious, since I only started recently.”

“Yellow belt already?” San mused, head tilted and eyes flicking down your frame before meeting your gaze again. His smile curved just slightly. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, sweetheart.”

Letting go of your hand, San stepped back with an almost smug expression as you attempted to school your face into some sort of nonchalance. Your palms felt clammy, and you prayed San didn’t hear the sharp intake of breath you barely managed to stifle. Why the hell did he have to look at you like that? You forced your expression into something neutral, hoping he couldn’t see the heat creeping up your neck.

Luckily, your mother was too busy fawning over San to notice much, brushing a few hairs away from his cheek before kissing it. Had you been more focused on the exchange, you might’ve seen the way he bristled lightly at the contact, still smiling sweetly regardless. Once you had all finished exchanging pleasantries, it was time to head inside.

As you walked through the empty palace of opulence you called a home, your thoughts drifted to your upbringing. Your mother always carried herself like a woman on a mission; poised, untouchable, like the world owed her something. A ‘philanthropic businesswoman,’ as she liked to call herself, though most people just called her ruthless. And while yes, she was a talented PR agent for some crazy famous clients, she couldn’t keep herself out of trouble a fair majority of the time.

Her first husband, your father, had left after he caught her cheating with the gardener, demanding a paternity test for you. When she refused, he took that as proof of continued infidelity, and cut the both of you off. As a child you simply couldn’t understand how he could leave the people he’d loved for so long, but the older you grew the more you resented that woman. You had your own reasons, of course, but the loss of your father was the initial trigger.

She had always been too busy chasing love and luxury to bother with you. You were so frequently left with nannies that the majority of your school communications would go directly to them, and a plethora of your mother’s lovers would come round without even knowing of your existence.

While she always seemed at least somewhat loving towards you, this was a thinly-veiled act that became apparent as soon as you were capable of critical thought. You spent years of your life assuming she hated you, considered you a burden, so you made sure to stay out of her way and leave home as quickly as possible.

Years of scandal, marriages, and divorces blurred together until, just before you left for your final year of university, your mother dramatically swore off men forever.

Of course, you had assumed she was chatting shit, but a new husband after you’d barely left? And she hadn’t even informed you until that Grecian-esque man waved, smiling warmly at you and shaking your hand. Your mother had always solved problems with her credit card—parenting included. But this? This was a new low.

Now you had to deal with yet another one of her ‘great loves’ waltzing into your life like he belonged there. And yet, San was different. Worse, somehow. Because unlike the others, he didn’t seem interested in playing house—but he wasn’t just a boytoy either.

San was impossible. Never overt, never obvious… but somehow, always there. A glance held a tad too long. A touch that lingered a second too much. Just enough to make you wonder if you were imagining it.

To name a few instances of his insanity:

1. Every morning, like clockwork, San would stroll into the kitchen— shirtless, towel draped over his impossibly broad shoulders.

His joggers hung low, teasing the band of his boxers, and his muscles flexed as he reached into the fridge. He didn’t need to look back at you to know you were staring; he always knew, lips curling into a barely-there smirk before taking a slow sip of his protein shake. You never stuck around long enough to see if he was watching you back.

2. He insisted on helping you brush up on your taekwondo, promising to help you move up a belt in a month.

San always insisted on guiding your actions, making sure your form was correct. While you admittedly did make substantial improvements, this was at the cost of losing your mind whenever he came close to you. The thick musk of sweat and cologne intoxicated your senses, and his uniform always seemed to loosen a little too much, exposing his shining chest.

3. After his daily workout, San prided himself on taking a couple laps in the pool to cool down and release the tension in his muscles.

The few times your mother was home, she’d sit on a recliner, shamelessly salivating over her trophy husband while tanning. It didn’t help that she’d only bought him tight pairs of speedos, all his trunks mysteriously going missing.

He didn’t seem too adverse to the idea though, at least from your position at your bedroom window. One time you swore just for a second that his gaze flicked up to your window, a ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips. A trick of the light, surely. And yet, when he pushed back into the water, his movements seemed slower, more deliberate, as if he knew exactly where your eyes were.

Nothing was certain anymore. You were someone that prided themselves on logic and reasoning, but San seemed to have every single one of your wires crossed.

 It was wrong. So wrong. He was your stepfather, your mother’s husband. And yet, late at night, when sleep refused to come, it wasn’t disgust that kept you awake—it was something far worse. But, at least from your fleeting experience with other men that had attempted to fill the role, San didn’t seem too interested in parenting you.

It made sense of course, he was only ten years your senior and had no kids of his own. But then the question arose: what were you to him then? If not stepdaughter, then what was your relationship? Why did he have to look at you like that, while his arm was still encircled around your mother’s waist? Why did you have to hear her egregious moans and shouts almost every night despite some pretty thick walls?

San was confusing you, and you didn’t like it one bit.

The one solace in all this madness was the new people San had brought with him into your life. You’d never had any permanent person to look up to as a kid, but San seemed like he was set to stay for a while. As the two of you got closer, a weird tension still present yet dull and ignored, he began to introduce you to his friends. Surprisingly, one had struck a particular interest in you, and it was readily reciprocated on your behalf. 

After all, Song Mingi was truly something else.

Tall and slender, it was a wonder the gentle giant wasn’t on a runway. He had the face of a god, usually donning sunglasses that hid his pretty eyes. A sculpted nose, dazzling white teeth, and plump lips completed his face, his cushiony lips always twisted into a handsome smirk around you. He was confident, and you admired that about him. Plus, his style was killer. But god, the cherry on the top of this beautiful beautiful sundae of a man ??? His voice.

Mingi’s voice was to die for. It was low, sultry, and almost made anything sound sensual. The way your name rolled off his tongue always had you hot and bothered, and he wasn’t ignorant to that fact. Of course, it made complete sense therefore that he had gotten into music and dabbled in voice acting; not only did he sound good, he was a lyrical genius.

Mingi drifted in and out of your life like a storm—his affection fast, intense, yet impossible to hold onto. He came with gifts, stolen kisses, whispered promises, and then, just as quickly, he was gone. Maybe that’s why you liked him. He was safe. Temporary. And every time he returned, it was easier to forget the way San looked at you: unlike San, Mingi never made you question yourself.

While he did try to entice you to come with him on his travels, you had stayed steadfast in your decision to look for work in your city. You wanted to leave home as soon as possible, and the last thing you wanted to do was rely on a man. Mingi understood that, and respected it, yet the older man still made a grand gesture of spoiling you rotten.

"Thank you for the perfume, Mingi! It smells so good!"

Giving you a small nod, Mingi sat down on the couch next to you, setting the rest of your gifts next to the nearby coffee table. Scooping up the box the perfume had been housed, he inspected it with an aloof expression.

"Brought it fresh from Europe just for you, love. Can't remember which country though, maybe France?"

You gave him a happy nod, smiling from ear to ear.

“Eau du parfums are usually from France, hence the name. Says this one originates from Marseille.”

Gently taking the perfume from you, Mingi calmly gestured for your wrist. Unsure but trusting of him, you hesitantly offered it to him, watching with interest as he sprayed two puffs of the liquid on your skin before bringing your wrist to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“Suits you,” he murmured, his voice like warm honey. “You should make this your signature scent.”

His lips hovered just above your pulse point, breath ghosting over your skin. When his eyes flicked up, dark and unreadable, your stomach twisted.

“And french rolls off your tongue like a native speaker, are you sure you’re your mother’s daughter?”

You held the urge to not snort at his overt dig at your mother, a smirk taking over his expression. The sunglasses perched in his hair glinted in the light, and within your own reflection you saw just how flustered he had left you. When Mingi finally pulled his face away from your wrist, you blushed and looked away, his grip still there and setting every nerve on fire.

"I only took a few classes in high school, I’m far from a native speaker."

Your eyes darted back to the box, and simply by the quality of it alone you knew it was outside of your current financial field.

“And that’s quite an expensive brand to make my signature scent.”

Rolling his eyes, Mingi leaned in closer to you, looking at you with such an intensity that you clenched your thighs together.

"Baby girl, I'll buy you whatever your heart desir-"

Before he could finish, the door opened and San walked in, clearly having just finished the phone call he was on. As Mingi reluctantly pulled away, San’s expression darkened. His gaze flicked between the two of you, jaw tightening as he spoke, his tone laced with something sharper than amusement.

"Mingi. Getting cosy with Y/N, I see."

Sliding his phone into his pocket, he took the open seat beside you, wedging you between them. Tense, your voice wavered as you spoke.

“H-Hey, San… How’s Mom’s business trip going?”

San raised an eyebrow at you, unimpressed. His tone was blunt.

"Delayed. She won’t be back until Monday."

You looked at him with slight unease, fixing your posture and turning away from Mingi. San caught onto this movement, and though he said nothing, the smirk tugging at his lips was unmistakable. He stretched his arm along the backrest, the brush of his fingers against your shoulder deliberate. Glancing at his friend, San gave him a once over before leaning in, barely centimetres away from your ear.

"You shouldn’t let strange men into the house, Y/N," he murmured, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Who knows what their intentions might be?"

Mingi scoffed, shifting against the armrest, one hand supporting his head.

"She knows I’m a friend, San. Don’t be a prick."

Raising an eyebrow, San raised his head to stare directly at the gentle giant, eyeing him up once again. Then, as if making a point, his arm slid further down, draping over your shoulder in a casual, possessive display of control.

"Oh? And do you know that too?"

You bristled uncomfortably at the exchange currently going on, San almost like a predator staking his claim over his property. But that didn’t make sense, because you were not his. As much as you and San like to play this game of push-and-pull, he hadn’t made a move yet. At least, until now.

Mingi said nothing as San’s hand slid onto your thigh, fingers pressing into soft flesh - firm, deliberate. He didn’t break eye contact. Your mind was at war: one part of you wanted to push him away, the other wanted him to push higher. The added audience only worsened your debacle, especially with the way Mingi’s eyes zeroed in on San’s hand.

Before you could even begin to make a decision, San’s lips brushed against your ear, teeth grazing your sensitive shell.

"I think Mingi needs a reminder, doesn't he, sweetheart?"

You couldn’t resist the temptation, not when San purred in your ear like that.

“C’mon San, leave her-”

“Shut up.”

Pursing his lips, Mingi wasn’t entirely sure why he did as San said. In fact, he wasn’t even sure why he was still here. San had been fixated on you since your mother had shown him a picture of you at university, frantically texting him and the boys about it. His newest con, he’d said, his latest cash cow had come with an added bonus; a pretty little stepdaughter. 

While he’d intended to rinse your mother of her money and be on his merry way, you had convinced him to stay around a little longer. He couldn’t resist you, not when you shivered like a lamb whenever he looked at you. And he’d made the others blatantly aware of this fact, lacking any remorse or guilt. 

In all honesty, Mingi saw the appeal. You were a sweet young thing, always polite and respectful to him. As you’d grown closer, he loved to push your buttons and watch your reactions, squirmy and flustered from just a little bit of teasing. It’s why he couldn’t heed San’s warnings to back off; you were too irresistible. And now, he’d landed the both of you in hot water.

“Come sit on Daddy’s lap, sweetheart.”

Mingi’s eyes almost bore into you as you shakily lifted up, shifting over a little and planting yourself in San’s lap. He rested his head on your shoulder, smiling at Mingi like the Cheshire Cat as his arm wrapped around your waist. Your head was lowered, avoiding eye contact with the male, shivering slightly as San drew small circles on your stomach.

“Good girl,” he breathed into your skin, tongue dragging along your nape as his free hand tilted your chin to give him further access. You took in a shaky breath, hand bunching the end of your skirt as you let San do as he pleased.

San was still eyeing Mingi up as he began littering your neck with love bites, daring him to speak out. The arm that had been wrapped around your waist trailed up your torso, poking your nipples until they hardened underneath the thin material of your shirt. 

You always liked to prance around the house in your slutty little bralettes, perky tits bouncing and nipples clearly visible. He hated how impossibly hard they made him, how fixated he was on pushing you against a counter and groping them. He’d pull on your nipples until they were bruised and sore, slip them into his mouth and suck on them until you were mewling and begging for him to stop in that sweet, honeyed voice of yours.

“My girl’s got such pretty tits - doesn’t she, Min?”

Gulping, Mingi nodded timidly, trying to ignore the way his mouth watered as San began pinching and rolling them through your shirt. When a tiny whimper fell from your mouth, both men’s cocks twitched in excitement. You began shifting in San’s lap, and he groaned into your neck before tightening his grip on your chin, stopping his abuse of your chest.

“Stop grinding on me like a little whore.”

Freezing in his lap, you gave him a tiny nod before finally speaking up.

“Yes Daddy.”

Oh fuck, that was hot. You were into this, and both men couldn’t be happier.

Relaxing into the sofa, Mingi shamelessly palmed at his cock through his jeans, intensely focused on the scene unfolding before him. Pushing you forward a little, San had you bent at the waist, his hand now resting on it. San’s free hand was slipping under your skirt, exposing more and more of your supple flesh to eager eyes. 

Soon, the curve of your ass was on full display, soft globes pressed against San’s raging hard on. Biting his lip, Mingi’s nails began to dig into the sofa as San’s finger looped into the thin material of your thong, pulling on it teasingly.

“F-Fuck, Daddy.. please, please…”

Your tone was still as soft as usual, albeit a little strained as San dragged at your thong in a way that rubbed it against your aching pussy. San delighted in the way you quivered against his hand, your waist warm to the touch as he continued his torment. 

“What do you need, baby? What do you want Daddy to do?”

“I need you, Daddy. Please, I need you in me.”

It felt almost sinful hearing such depravity fall from your sweet little lips. A sharp inhale was heard from the other side of the sofa, whilst the body behind you stiffened, hand freezing in place. Only when a dissatisfied whine left your mouth did San tighten his grip on your hip, nails digging in slightly before he let you go.

“Bend over the coffee table then, sweetheart. Let me see that sexy ass of yours.”

Shakily clambering off his lap, you gave a quick glance at Mingi as you fell to your knees. His eyes were dark with desire, eyes raking unashamedly over every inch of your form.

When his eyes laid on where your skirt had ridden up, a teasing sliver of your cheeks visible, he gave his cock a squeeze, biting his lip. A cough from behind you reminded you of your instructions, and you laid your front on the coffee table, shaking as you came into contact with the cool marble. 

You heard a click of fingers and shuffling, soon met with Mingi in front of your face. As one of his hands entangled in your hair, the other stroking your cheek gently, a firm hand fell to your asscheek, squeezing it tight. You whimpered, looking up at Mingi with tears brimming as San continued to meld your cheeks as he pleased.

“Now baby, Min’s real pent up right now. Can you do Daddy a favour, and stay still for him?”

You nodded, more focused on his hands on your body than his words. Dissatisfied, San gave your ass a painful smack, his wedding ring leaving a painful mark. You yelped out, eyes still on Mingi as he continued to fondle his cock, quietly grunting so as not to interrupt.

“Use your words, Sweetheart.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

His palm smoothed over your cheeks, rubbing your skin in an attempt to soothe it. 

“Good girl, always such a good girl for me.”

The two men locked eyes for a second, and San nodded at Mingi, spreading your cheeks apart and leaning in as the other fumbled with his belt. The thin lace of your panties did little to protect you against San blowing softly onto your pussy, and you resisted the urge to clench your thighs. Your eyes screwed tightly shut, damp and frustrated from all the teasing as the sound of a zip and rustling clothes came from in front of you. 

As San continued to blow onto your poor pussy, you felt the tip of Mingi’s cock poke at your lips. Eyes now watering, you opened them to see Mingi smearing his precum on your face, eyes lidded as he stared down at you.

“Go ahead, baby girl. Open up for me, hm? Let me use that tiny throat of yours.”

Mingi was massive, to say the least. As you parted your lips slightly, tongue darting out to swirl around his slit, you struggled to believe he’d fit all of it down your throat. Unfortunately, Mingi didn’t really care about your inner turmoil, holding you by the chin and gripping your face to force your mouth into an ‘o’ shape.

“I just know you’re gonna take my cock well, baby. Wrap them pretty little lips ‘round me, okay?”

All you could manage was a nod as San pressed a wet kiss to your cunt through your drenched panties, his face buried as he spread your cheeks for further access. With one long drag of his tongue your jaw fell open in a silent cry, giving Mingi the opportunity to fully push into your mouth. You tried to keep yourself from gagging, flattening your tongue and taking deep breaths through your nose. 

“Fucking hell,” Mingi panted, grip so tight on your hair your scalp began to burn, “you feel so good, angel.”

Angel, you liked being Mingi’s angel. You would do anything he wanted if he kept calling you that.

San felt the way you clenched at Mingi’s words, slightly pissed that it wasn’t the roughness of his tongue against fabric eliciting such a reaction. Determined to regain control, he grabbed the flimsy material of your thong and tore it apart, pulling it away from your dripping pussy and stuffing it in his pocket. 

You gasped around Mingi’s cock, the male’s hips stuttering in response, pushing your head further down until you took him at the hilt. Tears and mascara began to flow, and Mingi had to resist the urge to bust right then and there when you looked up at him, mouth stuffed with his cock.

“Shit, sweetheart. You’re so wet for Daddy.”

San swiped a torturous finger from your clit to your hole, circling it with a feather-like touch before bringing the digit to his lips. Suckling on it hard, he delighted in the way your juices lit his taste buds on fire, eager for more. 

Unfortunately, his cock was fit to burst, and he couldn’t wait any longer. 

Two fingers now snaked their way back down to your pussy, toying with your clit before slowly sliding into your warm, gummy walls. San had to suppress a groan as you clenched round the digits, moaning onto Mingi’s cock.

The man in front of you was shaking, desperately giving you time to adjust to his cock down your throat. He thought he could do it, allow you to move of your own free will, but he couldn’t take it any longer. Just as your sweet moans reverberated down his dick, Mingi held you by the back of the neck and began thrusting into your mouth. 

You tried to breathe, nose buried into his trimmed pubic hair with every thrust, San soon settling into a similar pace. While you wanted nothing more than to cum on your stepdad’s cock, there was no way you could take both men at once. In this sense, you were thankful that San was scissoring your cunt open, giving you time to prepare for a big intrusion. 

“Holy shit angel, just like that. You feel like heaven.”

Mingi was clearly flattering you with his description, your mouth doing a whole lot of nothing in your current state. All your effort was being put into not choking on his large cock, sputtering a little each time his tip brushed the back of your throat. 

Your moans must’ve been torturous, constantly surrounding him as San curled his fingers into your sweet spot. Had it not been for the table you were gratefully leaning on, and Mingi’s hand tousled in your hair to keep your mouth firmly upright, you’d currently be a mess on the floor right now. 

While San wasn’t saying much, completely focusing on the squelch of your cunt as he held one of your cheeks tight, Mingi was a lot more vocal. Shaky groans and low pants filled the room as he allowed himself to succumb to the pleasure. He was close, and you could feel it by the shake in his hand, the stutter in his hips. His grip on you tightened, your hair now taut and paining you, as he hissed and picked up his pace.

“Fuck fuck fuck, holy fuck. Shit angel, I’m so close-”

Just as you could taste the dribbles of his orgasm, Mingi pulled out of your mouth and painted your face white, furiously jerking himself with his bottom lip between his teeth. His head drooped as he rode the wave, slowly working himself down as his chest heaved. 

A tentative eye slowly opened, and he was met with your cum-stained face contorting as San forced a third finger inside. Mingi swore he could cum again simply from that sight alone. Beside himself with desire, Mingi leaned down and kissed you voraciously, fingertips snaking into your hair and massaging your pained scalp as he mumbled onto your lips.

“You did so good for me, Angel. Such a good, good girl-”

“Mingi.”

Almost as if he was snapped out of his dreamy haze, Mingi pulled back with a slightly-irritated frown, licking the remnants of the cum you’d transferred to him while staring San down. There was a challenge in the shorter man’s eye, a dare to test him when he was already three fingers deep, and Mingi nearly tried.

But then you mewled, face dropping against the cool marble of the table, cheek pressed on to it as you worked your hips back onto your dearest stepdaddy’s fingers.

Now was not the time to grow some balls.

Sighing, Mingi untangled his hands from your hair and quickly threw himself into a nearby chair, now leisurely stroking his cock. San had made it clear that your pussy was his, and the most Mingi could do was sit back and enjoy. So he did, jerking himself slowly as San leaned over you, his free hand now fisting your hair.

“What a good slut, helping Daddy’s friends like that,” he teased, eyes lighting up in delight when you whined again. 

Your pussy clenched in protest as he spread his fingers wide, palm cupping your cunt so you could grind against it, chasing a high that got closer with every second. San was so proud of his girl, taking what he gave you with no complaint.

The perfect little cockwhore.

“Good girls like you deserve a treat, don’t they sweetheart?”

All of a sudden, his hand was gone. Nothing was inside you, and it drove you mad. You tried to snap your head around, ready to protest the orgasm so painfully ripped away, but San was quicker. 

He pushed your face back down against the marble, pinning you there as he slowly unbuckled his belt.

“Ah ah ah, don’t act up now. You need to behave still, sweetheart. Daddy doesn’t like it when you don’t listen.”

A sweet ‘sorry daddy’ slipped from your lips, and Mingi swore he’d come on the spot. You seemed happy to have San manhandle you as he pleased, lips pouted as you looked up at Mingi. You looked thirsty for his cock down your throat again, despite your now-hoarse moans and whines, and it was doing wonders for him. 

Mingi began questioning just how much experience you had, especially with how you began to lick any nearby cum off your face, hungrily eating it while still looking him dead in the eye. You looked like a professional pornstar, ready for her closeup.

San’s tip was brushing your entrance, finally. After months of torment, of teasing, of taboo looks and fleeting touches, you were finally gonna have your stepdad where you needed him most. On your mother’s coffee table… as his friend that you had conflicting feelings for watched it happen. It was dirty, it was depraved - hell, you could probably call it degeneracy. But it was all you wanted, and it was finally happening.

He was being a tease, as usual. Dragging his cock head up and down slowly, tortuously. San’s existence was the most remarkable method of torture god could come up with. Just when you thought he’d finally breech you, give you that sweet satisfaction you’d been craving since you laid eyes on your mother’s boy toy of a husband, he’d pull his tip away and continue its journey up and down. 

Had it not been for him pinning you to the table, you had half a mind to reach back and just fucking shove it in yourself, but you could tell San would not take kindly to that. Instead, you grinded pathetically against him, a feeble attempt to entice him inside your sopping cunt.

“Please Daddy, please fuck me,” you whined, hips working around and around as both men watched in awe, successfully managing to get San to halt his teasing,”I need your cock in me Daddy, please fill me with your cum.”

Almost instantaneously, his hand fell from your hair and wrapped around your neck as he slowly guided his cock into you. The stretch had you clawing for purchase on the table, desperate for something, anything to steady yourself with. Glad to see such a visceral reaction, San leaned over you as you gasped and whimpered, his voice sultry like honey being poured into your ears. It was suffocating, almost as if it infiltrated your brain, smoothing over it until all you could hear was him.

“Shit sweetheart, you’re taking Daddy so well. Just a little more, princess.”

Princess. When Mingi had called you angel, it felt genuine. Yet, with San’s hand around your throat and his cock sliding into your wet pussy, it felt condescending. You didn’t know what you liked better, but you were probably a little biased and cockdrunk. A soft cry fell from your lips as he finally bottomed out, thumb rubbing circles into your pulse point as he gave you time to adjust. A luxury, considering how fucked out you already were.

“S-Sannie-!”

As soon as the nickname rolled off your tongue, so raw and desperate, his hips were pistoning into you. He didn’t slowly increase his speed, instead going from 0-100 as you writhed and mewled below him. From in between tears, you could barely make out a blurry Mingi matching San’s pace, let alone bring yourself to focus on him. Your brain was slowly melting out of your ear, reducing you to a slave to desire. 

“Shit, baby- you like that? Huh? You like when Daddy fucks you rough?”

“Yes! So good! Fuck, Daddy!”

You were all hot and bothered, probably overheating due to the clothes still on you. San had folded your pleated skirt out of his way, irritated by the material but not bothered enough to remove it. In terms of your shirt, he was only now pushing it up, allowing it to bunch above your chest as he pulled at your bralette until your chest pressed against the marble. Then he pulled out and quickly flipped you before you could complain, pushing back in and burying his face in your chest.

His pace had slowed a little as he allowed himself to feast on your chest, hungrily nipping and suckling at your nipples. It hurt so good, and your fingers curled into his hair. It was overwhelmingly good, to the point that you didn’t even register the tears falling, too busy grinding in time to his thrusts. 

“Fffffuck, oh god- ‘m so close, princess.”

San trailed up from your bruised chest to your neck, darkening the love bites he’d left before. He was rutting into you, no specific rhyme or reason to his pace. Inhaling deeply, San relished your sweet smell and your sweeter moans, hands now firmly planted on your waist. 

At this point you were lost to ecstasy, floating on cloud nine as the knot in your stomach tightened impossibly tight. Feeling you clench around him, San brushed a few hairs out of your eyes and mumbled sweet nothings into your ear, interrupted by a groan as he neared his own high. Cursing quietly, he gave a few shallow thrusts before pushing deep inside, filling you with his warm seed. 

His orgasm triggered your own, especially when paired with his low moans of your name, leaving you shuddering and clinging onto the table for dear life. Still feeling the effects of his high, San hissed slightly as you clamped down on him, nails digging into your sides. Both of you were gasping for air, looking at each other with unbridled desire.

“Sh-shit-!”

You turned just in time to see Mingi spurt in his fist, red in the face and panting slightly to himself. He glanced over at the two of you, clearly still hazy from his orgasm, and gave you both a lazy smile. 

Mingi watched happily as San slowly pulled out, his cum dribbling out despite your attempts to keep it all in. Tutting, your stepdad cupped your cheek with one hand, fingering his cum back inside with the other.

“C’mon sweetheart, keep it all in. Your pretty cunt needs to be stuffed, m’kay?”

You shakily nodded, trying not to squirm and moan as he pushed against your sweet spot. Back arching off the coffee table, fresh new tears rolled down your cheeks. San cooed at you, kissing them away softly. Despite his sweet actions, you could feel his cock beginning to harden once more. He had that glint in his eye again, and soon enough he replaced his fingers with his cock.

“Awh, don’t cry, pretty girl. Daddy will keep you nice ‘nd full, yeah?”

Chuckling, he glanced at Mingi and gave him a smug smirk, turning back to you and rubbing torturous circles on your clit.

“Ain’t I lucky to have a little cumslut for a stepdaughter, Min?”

“So lucky, San. You should give her what she wants.”

San’s smirk widened, setting a slow pace and pressing down on your stomach. He watched intently as you keened with a whine, giving him those doe eyes that drove him insane.

“Of course I will, I’ll always give my sweetheart whatever she wants.”

✯ - TAGLIST !!

@vampzity @jjoongstar @yyaurii @yuyubeans @yundeob @jycas @h4untedgrl @wwooyology @atzlordz @certifiedmoa @jwnghyuns @whyismingi @chaotic-floral @lover-ofallthingspretty