#stepbrochrisasks

Hi! Thank you for your question! I love you, too! 🥹💖

Yes, they have. It ended up being a false alarm, but this is how it went:

cw: pregnancy scare, mentions of abortion

"Hey Chris?" You squeak from his doorway, a troubled look etched into your face. "Can we talk for a second?"

"About what?" He mumbles from his kicked back position on his bed, scrolling through his phone.

"I'm late," you casually mention, your eyes flicking up at his.

It doesn't click at first.

"The fuck you mean you're late?" He scoffs, his brows furrowing in confusion. "For what? And what're ya doin' sittin' here tellin' me about it if ya got somewhere to be?"

"My period, Chris," you say through clenched teeth. Then you cross your arms, roll your eyes, and mutter under your breath, "fucking idiot."

"Oh, shit. That kind of late? Are you sure?" He asks, his stomach dropping and eyes widening.

"Yes. That kind of late. Five days late," you reply.

"Jesus!" Chris sighs, burying his head in his hands and shaking it back and forth for a minute. A beat of silence follows before he raises his head and pipes up, "you sure it's even mine? I mean, with all the guys you fuck -"

"Chris!" You interrupt him, your voice sharp and biting. "Of course I know it's yours."

"Oh, come on. I know you've let at least two other dudes hit it in the past month," he sneers, a look of contempt flickering over his expression. Then he mumbles, "slut."

"Chris. You fucking asshole. You're the only one I've done it raw with, okay?" You admit.

"Wait. Really?" He smirks, the comment immediately going to his ego.

"That's not the point, Chris. Look, I'll go to the drugstore, take a pregnancy test, and if it's positive, I can just go to the clinic, so we don't have to go through with this -"

"You don't mean get an abortion, do you?" He says with a little of disgust. "Fuck no. Not my kid."

You pause, slightly taken aback by his response. "Wait. If I'm pregnant, you wanna keep it?"

"Fuck yeah, I do. I mean, I'm not trying to actively have a kid, but if ya got a kid in there and it's mine, I don't even want you to consider gettin' rid of it," he motions towards your stomach, a more serious expression washing over his face.

You glance down for a second, wondering if there is a tiny human growing in there and thinking for a second that maybe Chris would be a good father. "Okay, I won't. I promise."

Oh, definitely. He's very nosey and snoops around in her room regularly. I have a chapter where he gets caught doing it, too. 🤭

But it's not the only time he's done it, and it's not the only time he's been caught:

cw: violation of privacy, chris being a total perv, m!masturbation, getting caught

Chris knew it was a breach of trust. He knew you'd be fuming if you knew, but you were out with a few of your friends. He'd justified it by telling himself if you really didn't want him to go poking around in your forbidden lair, you'd lock your door when you were gone. Since you hadn't, it was fair game.

He didn't know how much longer you'd be out, and he had to go undetected by his mom and your dad as the pair watched a movie downstairs together, so his adrenaline was already high as he quietly slipped into your bedroom. He took note of the new tapestry you'd added to your wall and the new house plants that decorated your windowsill.

His eyes were then immediately drawn to your top dresser drawer and the way it was just barely cracked open like you'd left in a hurry and forgot to shut it all the way, inviting him to take a peek. He couldn't help himself. He slinked over to the other side of your room, opening the dresser drawer and started rummaging through your sensitive items.

He saw a little black bag that was neatly placed in your drawer along with your socks, underwear, and lingerie. His curiosity getting the better of him, he reached for it, realizing quickly what was inside - a purple suction vibrator. He slid it out of the velvety pouch, examining it and twirling it around in his grasp. He clicked the button, the toy buzzing to life in his hand. "Jesus," he chuckled with a smirk, realizing how powerful it was.

It's not that he was jealous. He didn't mind you having toys. He actually found it really hot, imagining you in your bed while reading one of your dirty romance novels with your vibrator between your shaking legs. The only caveat was that you couldn't own a dildo that was bigger than him. Or the two of you would have a problem.

He shut it off, placing it back where he found it, and he continued to rifle through the contents of your dresser drawer. He'd seen you come home with a Victoria's Secret bag the other day, assuming you had some new additions to your lingerie collection.

He swiped a soft, silky pair of pink panties with a bow on the front and stuffed them into the pocket of his sweats, smirking to himself and already imagining how the texture of the fabric would feel against the tip of his cock later that night.

He closed the drawer a bit, leaving it open a crack, the way you'd left it, and he continued to snoop around the rest of your room. Nothing was out of place or out of the ordinary at first glance - some laundry on the floor, candles scattered about, and a pile of books stacked on your nightstand.

He smiled smugly, his eyes scanning the covers and reading the cheesy titles to all the smutty books you liked while he combed through them. He came across one inparticular that didn't quite look like the rest of the books. It didn't have a title or an author inscribed on the front. Instead, it had your name.

"What do we have here?" He smirked to himself, plucking it from the stack of novels and cracking it open once he realized what it was - a journal. Out of all the time Chris had spent sneaking around in your room and sneaking around with you, he'd never found one in your bedroom or seen you write in one.

He sifted through the pages, wondering what secrets you were hiding, what private thoughts you'd divulged to your journal that you'd never told him. He wondered if he'd come across his own name.

He rolled his eyes and let out a huff as he started to read an entry you'd written sbout some guy named Jimmy in your philosophy class:

"Jimmy looked so delicious in that new flannel he bought. I couldn't stop staring at him in class today. All I could think about was him tearing my clothes off and doing me on the desk. . ."

Whore, Chris thought to himself, a look of contempt creeping onto his face at your words and immediately skipping to a later entry:

"Well, I slept with Jimmy. It was boring!! So not worth it. Ever since I started sneaking around with Chris, nothing can compare to him . . ."

Jackpot! Chris smirked to himself, kicking his shoes off, getting comfortable on your bed, and leaning back on one arm as he read on:

"Anytime I'm with another guy in bed, I have to close my eyes and think about Chris if I have any chance of finishing. How messed up is that?! I can't get off with another guy that isn't my stepbrother unless I think about my stepbrother. . ."

Chris couldn't contain his giddiness, a self-satisfied grin plastered to his face, the words on the page feeding his ego as if he really needed that. He could feel the fabric of his sweatpants starting to grow tighter as he continued:

"He's ruined me for all other men. No one handles me the way he does. No one puts me in my place like he does. No one's hands are like his hands, strong and dominant and yet so needy at the same time. . ."

As Chris read along to your candid thoughts about him, he found his hand wandering to his bulge, slowly running his fingers over his length through the fabric.

"No one fucks me the way he does with so much passion and yet so much aloofness at the same time. No one talks to me like he does. I've never felt so cherished and yet so degraded by a man. It drives me crazy, messes with my head. . ."

A soft moan passed through Chris' slightly parted lips as he lazily stroked himself through his sweatpants. His heart raced, his breath becoming rapid. He needed more. He flipped to your most recent entry, his blue eyes scanning the page for his name.

"We're going camping in a few weeks once it warms up a little. The last time we went camping, Chris and I shared a tent, and we did unspeakable things to each other that night. God, it was so hot. We had to be quiet, of course. My dad and his mom were sharing a tent like six feet away from ours. . ."

He reached into his waistband, freeing his cock when he realized the words ahead were a detailed fantasy you had involving him:

"You know, when we go camping this time around, it would be fun if he chased me through the woods first before fucking me. It's always been a fantasy of mine. I wanna feel completely out of control. . ."

"Fuck," Chris whispered huskily under his breath, dragging his thumb through a bit of precum that had gathered on his swollen tip. His cock twitched in response, his breath hitching in his throat. He wrapped his fingers around his length, pumping his hand back and forth as he imagined it.

"I can already feel his hands on me, tearing at my clothes, holding me down, pushing my legs apart, pulling my panties to the side. . ."

That's when he remembered the panties he'd snatched from your drawer, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. Why not use them now? He retrieved them from his pocket, a sigh leaving his perfect pink lips as he wrapped the soft fabric around his cock.

He brushed his thumb over the tip again, shuddering at the feeling of the soft silk against his most sensitive spot. "Mmm," he quietly hummed, biting down on his lip to keep the sound contained.

His eyelids grew heavy as he read on about your fantasies, all the filthy thoughts he didn't know were swirling around in your brain everyday. He started to stroke himself faster, completely lost in the words on the page and the overwhelming pleasure that was building within, the pink material still wrapped around him and adding to the sensation.

He was so caught up in your fantasy, your fantasy that was slowly becoming his own, adding his own personal touches as it played out in his mind, that he didn't notice that you'd come home. He didn't hear the car door shut when you pulled into the driveway or the sound of your shoes as you made your way up the stairs.

Suddenly, there you were, standing in the doorway, one hand on your hip, your jaw practically on the floor, and a disgusted look on your face. "Chris!" You exclaimed.

"Oh, fuck. When did you get home?" He slurred, too swept up in pleasure to hold off his impending orgasm. He moaned loudly, his cock pulsing as he busted all over his hand and your panties, his face contorting into a look of pure bliss.

You watched him as he finished, squirming under the feeling of his own touch, drops of pearly white spurting from his cock. You hated how much it turned you on.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" You screamed, stomping into your room and snatching your journal from him, forcing your expression to become even angrier when you noticed what he was using to jack off with. "You're such a fucking pig!"

"I-I'm sorry. I got lost on the way to my room," he breathlessly chuckled, knowing the excuse was weak and that it definitely didn't justify anything you'd caught him doing.

"Get the fuck out! I can't believe you got it on my clean sheets and my new panties I haven't even worn yet," you pouted, looking at the wet spots Chris had left on your blanket and your underwear.

"You want 'em back?" He chuckled, reaching out and trying to give you back your soiled undies.

"Gross! Fucking go wash them. Now." You crossed your hands over your chest, your eyes occasionally drifting between his still hard cock that he didn't bother trying to cover up and the mess he made.

"C'mon, sis. I know what ya really think of me. Can't hide it anymore," he replied condescendingly, clicking his tongue as he glanced at your journal. "I saw the things you wrote about me." He gave you a smug smile.

You stood there quietly, humiliated by what he had probably read. You narrowed your gaze, your jaw clenching in anger.

It didn't matter what you said or did. Nothing could bring Chris down from the high he was on after reading about how he had ruined you for every other man.

He tucked himself back into his sweats, his eyes on you the entire time. "So, you think about your stepbrother when you fuck other guys, huh?" He scoffed, brushing past you. "You really are a sick fuck," he joked, realizing the irony in his words and knowing he always thought about you, too, when he'd fuck anyone else.

There are a dozen times that they were "almost caught" in the sense that they've been in the middle of hooking up in the living room or kitchen, and they hear someone pull into the driveway. However, they always hear that car door slam shut and manage to scramble to their rooms quickly enough to not raise suspicion.

If we're talking really close calls, though, there are two distinct times their covers were almost blown:

The first was, one late night session they were having in Chris' room that got a little too loud. Chris had his stepsister on all fours, his fist in her hair, fucking into her from behind. She'd tried so hard to be as quiet as she could, but the pleasure was overwhelming. The moans had started spilling from her lips faster than she could think to silence them.

His stepdad had confronted him about it the next morning. "You know, Chris, you're an adult, and you can have girls over whenever you want, but out of respect for your family, could you tell your date to keep the noise down next time?" He'd asked it in kind of a joking manner. Chris laughed along.

Of course, when Chris told his stepsister about this conversation, she was mortified that her dad had heard her. At least, it made it a little better that he had no idea that she was the "date" in Chris' bed.

The second time, they were hooking up on the couch while watching a movie. They knew they weren't home alone, but they'd gotten carried away and hadn't made it to either of their bedrooms before cuddling became kissing and kissing became touching.

Before Chris knew it, both their clothes were off, thrown into a pile on the floor next to the couch, and his stepsister was on top of him, straddling him and bouncing on him like she couldn't get enough. The rest of the house was sound asleep, and they were keeping the noise to a minimum, so they figured they could get away with it.

However, Chris' mom came downstairs for a glass of water while his stepsister was in the middle of riding him. Despite how close they each were, she's never jumped off of him that quickly in her life.

"Awh. You guys watching a movie together? You know, it's nice to see the two of you getting along more," Chris' mom commented, giving them both a warm smile before heading back upstairs, completely unaware that the two of them were naked under the big blanket they were sharing.

He absolutely does. 😇 He'll always find a way to stay home when she isn't feeling well and find subtle ways to take care of her:

It was a cold winter night, and you were curled up on the couch under a big, fuzzy blanket with a romance novel and a box of tissues. Chris came downstairs and stepped into the living room just as you were blowing your nose into a lotion-infused kleenex. "Gross," he snorted, scrunching his face in a look of disgust at you. "Ya look like death."

"I feel like it," you sniffled back, rolling your tissue up into a ball. Despite the fact that he was just about to go out with his friends, he paused before reaching for the doorknob, glancing back at you. His lip curved just slightly into a smile at the sight of your red nose and your sleepy eyes.

"Ya know, I think you could use a hot cup of tea," he replied, slipping out of his leather jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch.

"Oh, Chris, that's sweet, but you don't have to do that," you smiled weakly.

"Oh, I'm not doin' it to be sweet. I'm doin' it so you don't get everyone in the house sick," he snarked at you, a cover so that he wouldn't give away how much he cared. He rolled his blue eyes and scoffed as he headed into the kitchen, and you went back to reading your book, trying to keep your tired eyes from fluttering shut.

He returned a couple of minutes later with a mug of your favorite - a hot chamomile tea with a teaspoon of honey and a lemon in it. You perked up, flashing a smile up at him as you took the steaming mug, the heat radiating off of the ceramic and warming up your hands.

"Awh, Chris. You remembered exactly how I like my tea," you swooned, taking a small sip, the hot liquid soothing your sore throat.

"Yeah, only 'cause ya never shut up about the stuff you like," he shot back, collapsing into the couch beside you and kicking off his shoes.

"I thought you had plans," you replied softly, clearing your throat.

He shrugged, crossing his legs and putting his socked feet on the coffee table, which did not go unnoticed by you. "Well, who's gonna stay here and bother you if I take off?"

You rolled your eyes, a faint smile curling on your lips, finding comfort in the fact that he wanted to stay home and take care of you, even if he'd never admit that's what he was doing and even if he was the type of guy to put his feet on the coffee table.

Chris pulled out his phone and curated a text to his friends, giving them some excuse as to why he couldn't be there without admitting that he'd decided to stay home and take care of his sickly stepsister he was secretly in love with.

Then, without thinking about it, he reached over and placed a hand on your thigh through the fluffy blanket, gently rubbing circles on your knee, a gesture you found simultaneously exciting and calming. Your heart skipped a beat, your stomach fluttering with something other than the feeling of nausea for the first time in 48 hours.

You tried not to make a big deal out of it, knowing it would ruin the moment if you did, so you drew your attention back to your book and sipped your tea, quietly smiling to yourself. Chris traced soothing patterns on your leg while he mindlessly scrolled on his phone beside you.

The two of you sat there on the couch for several minutes, the faint sounds of you clearing your throat and sniffling gradually shifting into a soft snore. Chris glanced up at you, seeing that you'd fallen asleep with your book open to page 162 in your left hand and a still mostly full mug of hot tea in your right, your fingers loosely looped through the handle.

He cracked a smile at the sight. He got up from his seated position, closing your novel and gently removing the mug from your limp grasp, placing it on the coffee table in front of you. He leaned down, kissing your warm forehead, causing you to stir but not wake up.

"Ya didn't really think I could go out and have fun when I know you're at home sick, did ya?" He quietly mumbled to your sleeping form. He took your blanket and tucked it up to your chin, blocking out the slight draft in the room.

************************************

The next morning, you still weren't feeling very good. You woke up groggy, the itch still in your throat and your arms and legs feeling sluggish. You had a fuzziness in your head that you couldn't shake, but you were prepared to stick it out and go to work anyway.

You started setting out your uniform on your bed and gathering your things for a shower when you turned around and noticed Chris in your doorway, leaning against the frame. He looked like he'd just woken up as well, his hair messy and bags under his eyes from staying up so late the night before.

"What the hell do y'think you're doin', sniffles?" He wondered, his tired voice coming through.

"I have a shift at the diner in a couple hours," you shrugged, getting ready to push past him and head to the bathroom for your shower. He stopped you, giving you a look like you know better than that, and he placed the back of his hand against your forehead, the heat from your skin radiating onto his.

Yes, he has. Chris has been poking around in his stepsister's room since the week she and her dad moved in, so he's seen the top drawer of her dresser that's filled to the brim with satin, lace, and mesh. He's always known it's there. He's even borrowed a few pieces before.

The first time she put on lingerie for him, his reaction was unexpected, to say the least, and I wrote a little blurb about it:

cw: stepbro!chris being hot and possessive

Both of your parents were out of town, and you'd finally decided to model off some of your favorite lingerie for Chris while he was downstairs playing Call of Duty. You sauntered into the living room in a pink sheer nightie, hoping you'd grab his attention and make him want to ravish you right there.

He took one lookover what you were wearing and scoffed, rolling his blue eyes. "How many assholes have blown your back out in that?" His words were cold and sharp, leaving you silent and dumbfounded. "No offense, but I don't wanna watch you prance around in some shit that some other guy has seen you in before."

He went back to his game, seemingly unimpressed with you and the fact that you couldn't even answer his question, and you went back upstairs with your tail between your legs.

You weren't sure what to think of Chris' comment. Was it a rejection?

However, the next day, after your shift at work, you came home to two new sets of lacey lingerie laying at the foot of your bed.

Your eyes lit up as you picked up one of the lacey, black thongs, running your fingers over the soft, pink bows. Next to the lingerie on the bed was a sloppy handwritten note:

"For my eyes only. -Chris"

Whenever his stepsister is out of the house, Chris is definitely taking every opportunity to go through her room. He's always stealing her panties and lingerie (or replacing it before she notices it's gone), or he's going through her journal or her laptop, making sure she isn't talking to or writing about other guys.

Sometimes, he's jerking off to pictures of her that he has in his phone (most of them taken when she was unaware or nudes that he stole from the hard drive on her laptop).

Other times (a little more wholesome), he just hangs out on her bed, laying in her sheets and resting his head on her pillow because they smell like her, and he can't wait for her to get home. When he misses her too much, he'll just go into her job and bother her. She pretends to be annoyed by it, but she finds it endearing.

However, he has hobbies outside of things that involve his stepsister as well. He likes going on drives, listening to his sad boy indie music. He likes hanging out with his friends, which he's much more inclined to do when his stepsister is out, because we all know how jealous he is and how he definitely doesn't want any of them eyeing her.

He also loves to play basketball and go to the gym when he needs to blow off steam, or he'll play video games with his boys. His favorites are Halo and the Modern Warfare series.

Because they're both children of divorce, and deep down, they both believe that if they start a relationship, it's inevitably doomed. There's definitely a shallowness to it on Chris' end, too. His ego is fed from attention from other girls, and he doesn't really want to give that up.

On a deeper level, Chris doesn't know what a healthy relationship looks like. Neither does reader. They only know the kind of love that's like, "if the other person isn't actively fighting to keep me around, then they must not want me," so they take turns undermining each other, pissing each other off, and making one another jealous bc that's when they get the reaction from the other person that says to them, "woah, this person actually does really want me." Thus the cycle continues.

For reader, she'd be willing to start a relationship anyway, but she can't fully commit to Chris until he commits to her.

Chris is in love with her. And he even admitted once that he loves her at the end of one of my fics about them.

At first, it was purely sexual. They kind of hated each other's guts in the beginning and were just only physically attracted to one another. However, Chris isn't the type of person who can fool around with someone multiple times and not develop some kind of feelings for them.

The reader is in love with him, too, but she didn't fall for him as quickly as he fell for her.