Stepdad Chan gets you to early rehearsals on time, just as promised. It’s an added treat that you shared a quick breakfast with him before arriving, always skipping the meal on audition days since your mother claimed eating so much before performances made you look unappealing in some way. Despite needing the nourishment on highly hectic days, you took her words to heart. Finding this out pained Chan to an extent and altered him even. “You know, as well as I do, that having a meal is better than performing on an empty stomach. Sit down. Eat. She isn’t here, and you don’t always have to listen to her…”

Chan refused to leave until you sat down in the kitchen, and though you wanted to have an anxious outburst about being late, the stern look on his face advised you to do otherwise. “Just a quick bite, and then we can leave?” You sigh, dropping your practice bag on the floor and sifting into the kitchen as he trailed behind you. “You need all the energy you can get, baby…” Chan drops his car keys on the island table as you lean against it, spinning to face him with a half smile and a soft shrug. “I think I have enough already…” You watch him watch you, brown eyes looking nowhere else but you as he steps closer until the warmth of his body invades yours. His hands find yours, the pads of his thumbs tracing over the back of your fingers that grip the edge of the counter, and you tense as his touch sinks into your skin and eases the tension hidden underneath. Chan lowers his head, fixated on you as your gaze falls to the silver chain clasped around his neck, avoiding his stare the longer he remains silent. “After everything we did last night…?” He speaks as if anyone else might hear him, and you swallow hard as heat rises to your face, “M-maybe..?” You second guess yourself, suddenly weak all over, and your mind wandering the moment he made you spiral with his tongue alone. Chan felt your legs twitch, stocking-clad thighs pressing together between his legs as he pushed into you with a knowing smile on his face, “Never thought I’d hear my baby girl lie…” he feigns disappointment, head dipping to catch your gaze as you shy away from him to hide a flustered expression. “Not lying..” you rush out, ignoring the heat pooling in your core as he backs you into a corner so far removed from reasonable intimacy. Chan huffs a laugh, hands gliding to grip your hips and ease their lingering soreness with gentle passes of his fingertips. A silent moan fell from your lips, dissolving into the fabric of a black sweater as you clung to him for mindless support. “I’ll have to try harder next time I have you all to myself, won’t I, sweetheart?” His threat sounds like a gracious promise, and you can’t help but hear the nearly lovesick smile tug at your lips. “Guess so, daddy..”

Stepdad Chan follows you into the dance studio with a kind smile, carrying your practice bag, and his eyes rarely drift from you, even when others look his way. Your fellow peers, their parents -especially the mothers and your oh-so-familiar instructor can’t stop staring as he trails your every step. Chan observes everything, not at all surprised by the pristine and well-kept facility but perplexed as to why most people there seemed to stare rather than greet you directly. You keep your head down, only waving to a few acquaintances when they acknowledge you but saying nothing of consequence. Chan frowns, noting the whispers that float through the room, how they all allude to you in one way or another and run rampant among the gaggle of mothers and their daughters. You don’t say a word about it, and it is oddly quiet as you settle down to prep your shoes and stretch while Chan sets your things down near the wall. He moves to kneel and comfort you, noting how you begin to nibble on your thumbnail as the murmuring silence fills the room, but he’s stopped short by the gaggle of women eyeing him from the moment he arrives. Polite and not one to shun a sudden social interaction, Chan engaged with them kindly, smiling shyly as they complimented him and inquired about his relationship with your mother -though most of them obviously wanted to wriggle their way into it. You bit back a scowl, not daring to look his way as their conversations bordered on flirtatious cooing. Slithers of anger and envy curled up your spine, growing more prevalent as wandering eyes landed on you and hushed accusations were barely whispered.

“Can’t believe he’s her stepdad…”

“My mother said CB7 Productions just became a conglomerate, too. Father plans to buy into it soon.”

“He was an idol too, right…a hot one too…kinda want to fuck him if he gave me a chance..”

“Looks like your mom wants a turn first..”

“You think Miss Perfect got her hands on him first? I mean, she’s always wanting what she can’t have..”

“Doubt it. She can’t even hit the second-act combination right. Plus, she’s too good to sleep around.”

You hear every vile word, already anxious from the oncoming auditions, reminiscing on the hurtful opinions of your mother, and increasingly concerned by jealousy all at once. You poured your focus into breaking into your shoes, glancing around in a teary gaze as they softened under your grip but refusing to set your gaze on Chan as he weaved his way out of another lengthy conversation -much to the initiator’s disappointment. When they averted their attention elsewhere, he reaffirmed his attention on you, going stiff seeing your head hanging and your hands working away at the ballet shoes. You went to rip a small nail out of one of them but stopped short when the metal scraped into your finger. A deep cut appeared, blood dripping down from the wound and earning a quiet hiss from you. A few silent laughs echoed in the room, but they were overshadowed by your instructor's call across the room. “Miss L/n…everything alright?..”. You nod slowly, forcing a smile his way despite the stinging pain you felt, “U-um, Yes. I’m alright.” He nodded but glanced at your hand before giving an even answer. “Go clean that up. Make it quick because warms up will start soon…” You swallow hard, gazing at the cut before nodding and standing to your feet to leave. Not a word leaves your lips as you walk past disillusioned and scowling faces, ignoring the usual scrutiny you cowered under to drown in the selfishness flooding your thoughts. Chan glimpsed the hardened glare on your face, the heaviness in your steps, and the glaze of tears over your eyes as you whisked past him and into the studio's half-lit halls.

Stepdad Chan sifts out of the room, giving a bland excuse of departure under the guise of checking up on you, and no one is the wiser when he leaves.

“He’s such a good father..”

“No wonder M/n married him….sweet, well off, and caring. “

“He must find it difficult dealing with that girl, though. From what I heard, she’s always given M/n a hard time.”

Chan ignores the snide remarks, catching a glimpse of you rushing around a corner at the far end of the hall just as he steps out of the practice room. “Y/n…” you hear him call you but keep pushing forward to the nearest restroom, in tears, and hoping he nor anyone else can hear you crying. You take another turn, forgetting where you’re going, unaware that the blood on your hand drips onto the floor and leaves a trail behind your frantic steps. Chan follows it, quickening his pace and catching your arm before you leave his sight again. Immediate relief soars through you; the warmth of his strong embrace and the gentle head kisses he gives while hugging you tight to his chest do wonders. “Hey… baby girl, it’s okay…it’s okay….daddy’s right here. It’s okay…” Chan mumbles into your hair, letting you cling to him for dear life as your pained sobs muffle against his shirt. Your body shakes, thrown into a frenzy as you cry in his arms, trying your hardest to pull it together and stamp down your insecurities like clockwork. But you couldn’t; they tumbled out in shuddered cries and soft pleas for Chan not to let you go.

For him not to be disappointed in you.

For him to be proud of you.

To think the world of you when so many people refused to,

Chan nodded, inhaling a steadying breath as he listened to you cry and offering the little comfort he could in the small instance of privacy from public perception. You took what he gave, melting and going silent as he raised a hand to cradle your head while the other traces soothing circles into your lower back. “Told you I’m not going anywhere, Princess. I’m all yours, remember…always going to be proud of my little girl no matter what..” Your heart race eased as he spoke, pounding a little quieter in your ears as he pulled away to wipe your tears away with his thumb. Brown eyes peered into your watery ones, soft and understanding as a gentle smile spread across his face. “You’re my girl….perfect just the way you are,” he waits for you to smile, chuckling when you do before continuing in a hushed tone. “Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise, okay?” You hesitate to nod in agreement, remembering the sparring embarrassment you felt rushing out of the practice room and tempted to replay the incident repeatedly until it ate you alive. Chan caught the wheels turning in your head and sighed, brows furrowing a bit, but the gentleness in his gaze unwavering as he glanced around before nudging open the nearest door with his shoulder. “Come here,” he instructed lowly, pulling you into the darkened and empty studio room before clicking its door shut and locking it from the inside.

You glanced around him, easing a brow as he walked you backward into the mirrored wall, “Chan…I have to get, and anyone could see us…” He tilted his head, that same kindness in his expression even as he uttered words that fuzzed your brain with a mix of panic and attraction. “We should make this quick then, huh, little one?.” his voice dropped lower with every word, sounding distant as you focused on his hands tracing along your body and his forehead pressing into yours. Chan pecked your parted lips once, then twice, holding off from a third when your hands fisted at the hem of his shirt. “…but I need you to understand how much I love you.” You flinched as his left hand slid between your stocking-clad legs, cupping your cunt with intent. His right traced over your neck and settled on your nape. His fingertips pressed into the tender muscle, coaxing a low moan from you as he watched your expression shift through half-lidded eyes. Your body melted into the cold glass, a slight relief to the burning excitement coursing up your spine as his pointer and ring finger ran up and down your cunt, pressing into the fabric covering until the warmth of your entrance enveloped it. Chan shifted his free hand to grasp your jaw, gently prying your lips apart to hear the soft moans begging to leave them, “Tell me it’s okay…or I’ll stop.” His request sent you reeling, and a strained mewl filled your chest as you nodded frantically, pleading with every fiber of your being for him and only him.

Stepdad Chan eases your cries into muffled whimpers with velvet soft kisses, welcoming the taste of strawberry smoothie still coating your tongue as it played with his, but careful not to put you in a complete state of disarray. Time wasn’t on his side, but he’d make the best of it to ensure your confidence -he could manage it anyway. You stole glances at the locked studio doors, glad the glass was tinted but still shy, feeling Chan’s hands work away your clothing articles until there was nothing left to keep you covered from the waist down. He was carefully peeling your tights off, letting the light fabric pool on the floor before unbuttoning your leotard and easing it up to your waist, “Jump…” he mutters into the crook of your neck, planting a chaste kiss on it as you obey the quick command, thankful he braces your weight with a firm grip on your backside. Your hips delve forward, guided by his hand, and stuttering slightly when the imprint of his hard-on presses into your bare folds. An impression of a soft gasp and drained moan tumbles from you, seeping right into the air as your head falls back into the mirrored wall. “Chris…!” You utter his name on instinct, face burning as you realize the intimate breech you’ve made with a slip of the tongue, but he doesn’t reprimand you. He responds with a nearly frightening sincerity, eyes softening like milk chocolate as they meet your gaze, and his breaths slowing to shallow sighs as if you’ve taken his breath away -rendered him weak with the mere call of his name. And it’s true. He knows it, pleading for you to repeat it as he braces you against the wall and shamelessly ruts his hips up into you. Hesitation fades from your consciousness; his name is the only word you can fathom speaking. You purr it into his ear like a prayer as your hands run along the sides of his face to the roots of his dark hair. Chan’s right frame of mind takes a turn, one tracked and obsessive the more your soft voice echoes through the room. You were calling for him and needing him and begging for him.

Stepdad Chan moves a hand between you, the other held flat against the cool glass beside your head as his deft fingers reach down to undo the binds of his pants. You peer down, chewing at your bottom lip, watching his veined hand flex to carefully ease his heavy cock out into the open. Your mouth waters at the sight of it, lulling open to whimper a timid remark only to snap shut as a pleased scream tickled your throat, feeling the warm head of his length slide between your soaked folds before prodding an inch past your entrance. Chan held you still, smiling softly while you leered backward at the new feeling. “Too much…?” He asks you through a low groan, tempted to shove his cock in you and stay like that until you have no choice but to take him in full. He steadied the urge, waiting until you shook your head weakly and tightened your legs around his waist.

“Not enough…” you admit in one breath, tummy flipping and toes curling as his tip sinks past the resistant edge of your inner walls, eliciting a simmering tear of satisfaction as the soft nerves stretch to fit more of him. Chan’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, heavy breaths shifting into shallow moans as he pushes into you inch by inch, baring into your more petite frame until you can’t take a breath without breathing him in. Head emptying and eyes rolling further back into it, you savor the sensation of having his cock buried inside of you, shivering in pure delight, feeling him twitch the moment his tip kissed your cervix. “Bloody…hell,” Chan rasped in a sharp exhale, eyes drifting open again as your walls tightened from the sound of his voice. You blushed at the involuntary reaction, unable to help it when his stare darkened, and a knowing smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. You expect a semblance of praise to come from him, but your assumptions dissolve into mind-numbing pleasure as he pulls his hips back to snap them forward with tamed precision. “Ah-! M-mmh..!” You shudder violently, inwardly grateful he stifled your scream with a firm hand over your mouth. Chan sets a dizzying rhythm that is slow and purposeful. A specific hint of determination overtakes his features, addicting to watch heighten the longer he fucks into you, and you drown in it. A heated knot rings itself in your core with every deep-set push of his cock, wrapping tighter as the glide of his shaft against your fluttering walls quickens. Arousal drips onto the laminated floor his feet are firmly planted on, a definite product of the ecstasy you share with him and the only evidence you could account for besides the sound of skin slapping against skin, carrying under your muffled moans.

Stepdad Chan has no problem sending you off with his cum leaking down your inner thighs. You clean up as much of it as you can, swiftly slipping back on your stockings and trying to ignore the sticky residue near your core as the sheer fabric hugs your skin again. Chan smiles, seeing your cheeks flush, helping you stand, and fixing your hair as you finish getting dressed. “Did I go too far,” he inquires quietly, eyes searching your face for any hint of frustration or regret, but you show none. A warm and delighted smile roots itself in your expression, refusing to leave as you admire him through lowered lashes. “No… I’m fine,…I promise,” you reassure him quietly, glancing at the time on the clock mounted on the opposing wall reflected in the mirrored one. “I must get back to class now, or I’ll miss warm-ups…” Chan nods, understanding of your attention being set else though he craved for it to remain solely on him for a while longer, “C’mere…” he cups your face with warm hands, planting a kiss on your forehead before letting you leave but you hesitated to walk away fully. “You’ll stay, right?” The nerves vibrating through your veins penetrated your voice, laced with preemptive disappointment as he gave you an answer. “I wouldn't miss a chance to see you perform for the world, baby girl… “ Chan bit his lower lip, catching the excited twitch of your lips. You intended to say more, to thank him for being so attentive and sweet even when he didn’t have to….even after he’d fucked you past your first natural high in less than thirty minutes. But you said nothing else, rushing out of the studio room with a purposeful smile and confident steps. The anxiousness and isolation you’d been feeling trapped in chipped away, a shattering mirage of fear that you couldn’t be happier had conceded under Chan’s constant affection for you.

You felt loved…

Truly loved by him.…

a/n: I’m over this bullshit..need to watch Chan’s room or I’m going to lose it in this fucking hospital room..

TAGS: @amaranthlvr 🖤

other links: don’t ask

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]