Stepsis hates him but respects it v1

[Moose99]

Tessa stormed into the living room, her eyes narrowed at Jake sprawled across the couch, one leg slung over the armrest like he owned the place. She’d never liked him—her stepbrother since their parents’ whirlwind marriage two years ago. He was loud, obnoxious, and had a knack for getting under her skin. Today was no different.

“Get your lazy ass up,” she snapped, tossing her bag onto the coffee table. “You’re always in my space.”

Jake grinned, that irritating smirk she’d come to despise. “Chill, Tess. It’s a big house. Plenty of room for both of us.”

She rolled her eyes, turning to grab a soda from the fridge, when she heard the couch creak. Before she could react, Jake was behind her—way too close. She spun around, ready to shove him, only to freeze as he, with zero warning, dropped his sweatpants and let his junk flop right in front of her face.

“What the *hell*, Jake?!” she shrieked, stumbling back, her soda can clattering to the floor. “You’re such a creep! A disgusting, perverted freak!”

He didn’t flinch, just stood there with that same smug grin. “Oh, come on, Tess. Look at it. You can’t deny it’s impressive.”

Her face burned red, a mix of fury and mortification. She crossed her arms, glaring at him, but her eyes—against her will—flicked down for a split second. She hated herself for it. “You’re delusional,” she spat. “Put that thing away before I call the cops.”

“Not until you admit it,” he said, crossing his arms to mirror her. “It’s big. Bigger than whatever your boyfriend’s packing, I bet.”

Tessa’s jaw clenched. She wanted to claw his eyes out, but he wasn’t entirely wrong, and that pissed her off even more. Her boyfriend, Mike, was… average. Fine. Nothing to write home about. And here was Jake, standing there like some idiot peacock, flaunting something she couldn’t unsee.

“Fine,” she hissed, her voice dripping with venom. “Yes, it’s big. Bigger than Mike’s. Happy now, you absolute Neanderthal?”

Jake’s grin widened. “See? Was that so hard?”

She glared at him, her pride warring with the absurdity of the moment. Then, in a flash of spiteful defiance, she leaned forward and planted the quickest, most sarcastic peck on it—just enough to shut him up. “There,” she said, stepping back and wiping her mouth dramatically. “Out of respect for the sheer size, you moron. Now pull your pants up and never speak of this again.”

Jake laughed, finally tugging his sweats back up. “You’re welcome, sis.”

“I hate you,” she muttered, storming out of the room, already plotting how to bleach her brain of the last five minutes.

 

[Moose99]

Part 2

The living room was dim, the flickering light of the TV casting shadows across Tessa and Mike as they sat nestled on the couch. Some forgettable action movie blared in the background—explosions and gruff one-liners—but Tessa barely paid attention. Mike’s arm was slung around her shoulders, his fingers idly tracing circles on her arm. It was a quiet night, the kind she usually liked, except for one nagging fact: Jake was home.

Her stepbrother. The bane of her existence. Two years of living under the same roof had done nothing to dull her hatred for him. He was loud, crude, and had a way of turning every interaction into a power play. Mike didn’t like him either—called him a “douchebag” under his breath whenever Jake swaggered into a room. Tessa couldn’t disagree.

“Pass the popcorn,” Mike muttered, nudging her. She reached for the bowl on the coffee table, her eyes still half-glued to the screen, when she heard the familiar creak of the floorboards behind the couch. Her stomach tightened. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Jake’s voice drawled, dripping with that smug amusement she despised. “Don’t mind me. Just grabbing a drink.”

“Then go grab it and leave,” Tessa snapped, not even glancing back. Mike shifted beside her, his jaw tightening, but he stayed quiet, eyes fixed on the TV like he was pretending Jake didn’t exist.

She heard Jake chuckle, low and irritating, and then the sound of his footsteps stopped. Too close. Way too close. Before she could react, something heavy and warm landed on her shoulder from behind the couch. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized what it was—Jake, in all his shameless audacity, had dropped his pants and rested his dick right there, inches from her face.

Tessa froze, her heart pounding with a mix of rage and disbelief. Mike hadn’t noticed yet, his focus still on the movie, but she could feel the heat radiating off Jake’s skin. She whipped her head around just enough to glare at him, her voice dropping to a furious whisper. “I *hate* you,” she hissed, her eyes blazing. “You’re a disgusting creep. Get that thing off me.”

Jake smirked, leaning down so his face was closer to hers, his voice a mocking murmur. “Come on, Tess. You can’t ignore it. Feel that? It’s big. Hard. You know it is.”

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought the urge to scream and wake up the whole house—or worse, alert Mike. Her shoulder tensed under the weight, and as much as she loathed him, she couldn’t deny the sheer presence of it. It was impossible to ignore—thick, solid, and pulsing with a kind of arrogance that matched its owner perfectly. Her mind flashed back to that humiliating moment in the kitchen weeks ago, when she’d been forced to acknowledge it. She hated that he was right.

“Goddamn it, Jake,” she whispered, her voice trembling with fury. “Why is it so big and hard? You don’t even deserve it. Look at it—it’s ridiculous. You don’t even take care of it properly, do you? Probably just let it sit there, wasted on someone like you.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her anger. “Wasted? Nah. It’s a gift. And you’re the one who keeps noticing.”

Her face burned, a mix of shame and exasperation twisting in her gut. Mike shifted beside her, mumbling something about the movie, oblivious to the scene unfolding inches away. Tessa’s eyes darted to him, then back to Jake, her mind racing. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But there it was, resting on her shoulder like some obscene trophy, demanding attention. And God help her, it *was* impressive—bigger than Mike’s by a mile, harder than anything she’d ever felt from her boyfriend’s half-hearted attempts.

“You’re an asshole,” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the movie’s gunfire. “But fine. It’s… it’s huge. Okay? Bigger than Mike’s. Harder than anything he’s ever managed. It’s like it’s got a mind of its own, and you don’t even deserve it.” She paused, her breath shaky. “You should be ashamed, letting something this… this *perfect* just hang around like that. It’s too good for you.”

Jake’s grin widened, but he didn’t say a word, letting her stew in her own reluctant admission. Tessa’s hatred flared hotter, but there was something else now—some twisted, begrudging respect for the sheer audacity of it, for how it seemed to outshine everything else in the room, including her boyfriend sitting right there. She couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to, but her hand twitched, and before she could stop herself, she turned her head just enough to press a quick, angry kiss against it.

“There,” she whispered, her lips brushing it as she spoke. “Out of respect for how big it is. How hard it is. It deserves it—more than you do, you prick. More than Mike, even. He’s just sitting there, clueless, while this… this thing deserves to be pleased. Worshipped, almost. And I *hate* you for it.”

She kissed it again, harder this time, a defiant little worship session fueled by spite and fascination. Her words came faster, a stream of justification she couldn’t hold back. “It’s not fair. You’re a jerk, but this? This is something else. It’s like it’s mocking me, mocking him, and I have to give it what it deserves because it’s just… better. Bigger. Harder. It needs attention, and you don’t even know what to do with it, do you? God, I hate you.”

Jake chuckled softly, finally lifting it off her shoulder and stepping back, his pants still down but his point clearly made. “Good girl,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear, before sauntering off toward the kitchen like nothing had happened.

Tessa sat there, her heart racing, her skin prickling with a mix of fury and something she refused to name. Mike turned to her, oblivious as ever. “You okay? You’re breathing weird.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, forcing a tight smile. “Just… the movie. Intense scene.”

She sank back into the couch, her mind a chaotic mess, hating Jake more than ever—but unable to shake the image of what she’d just done, or why.

---

 

[Bondmiles21]

I like where this is going.

 

[d_ray_morton]

Love it. Maybe include a physical description of Tessa.

 

[amazzzed2]

Part 2

The living room was dim, the flickering light of the TV casting shadows across Tessa and Mike as they sat nestled on the couch. Some forgettable action movie blared in the background—explosions and gruff one-liners—but Tessa barely paid attention. Mike’s arm was slung around her shoulders, his fingers idly tracing circles on her arm. It was a quiet night, the kind she usually liked, except for one nagging fact: Jake was home.

Her stepbrother. The bane of her existence. Two years of living under the same roof had done nothing to dull her hatred for him. He was loud, crude, and had a way of turning every interaction into a power play. Mike didn’t like him either—called him a “douchebag” under his breath whenever Jake swaggered into a room. Tessa couldn’t disagree.

“Pass the popcorn,” Mike muttered, nudging her. She reached for the bowl on the coffee table, her eyes still half-glued to the screen, when she heard the familiar creak of the floorboards behind the couch. Her stomach tightened. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Jake’s voice drawled, dripping with that smug amusement she despised. “Don’t mind me. Just grabbing a drink.”

“Then go grab it and leave,” Tessa snapped, not even glancing back. Mike shifted beside her, his jaw tightening, but he stayed quiet, eyes fixed on the TV like he was pretending Jake didn’t exist.

She heard Jake chuckle, low and irritating, and then the sound of his footsteps stopped. Too close. Way too close. Before she could react, something heavy and warm landed on her shoulder from behind the couch. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized what it was—Jake, in all his shameless audacity, had dropped his pants and rested his dick right there, inches from her face.

Tessa froze, her heart pounding with a mix of rage and disbelief. Mike hadn’t noticed yet, his focus still on the movie, but she could feel the heat radiating off Jake’s skin. She whipped her head around just enough to glare at him, her voice dropping to a furious whisper. “I *hate* you,” she hissed, her eyes blazing. “You’re a disgusting creep. Get that thing off me.”

Jake smirked, leaning down so his face was closer to hers, his voice a mocking murmur. “Come on, Tess. You can’t ignore it. Feel that? It’s big. Hard. You know it is.”

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought the urge to scream and wake up the whole house—or worse, alert Mike. Her shoulder tensed under the weight, and as much as she loathed him, she couldn’t deny the sheer presence of it. It was impossible to ignore—thick, solid, and pulsing with a kind of arrogance that matched its owner perfectly. Her mind flashed back to that humiliating moment in the kitchen weeks ago, when she’d been forced to acknowledge it. She hated that he was right.

“Goddamn it, Jake,” she whispered, her voice trembling with fury. “Why is it so big and hard? You don’t even deserve it. Look at it—it’s ridiculous. You don’t even take care of it properly, do you? Probably just let it sit there, wasted on someone like you.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying her anger. “Wasted? Nah. It’s a gift. And you’re the one who keeps noticing.”

Her face burned, a mix of shame and exasperation twisting in her gut. Mike shifted beside her, mumbling something about the movie, oblivious to the scene unfolding inches away. Tessa’s eyes darted to him, then back to Jake, her mind racing. She didn’t want to do this. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. But there it was, resting on her shoulder like some obscene trophy, demanding attention. And God help her, it *was* impressive—bigger than Mike’s by a mile, harder than anything she’d ever felt from her boyfriend’s half-hearted attempts.

“You’re an asshole,” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the movie’s gunfire. “But fine. It’s… it’s huge. Okay? Bigger than Mike’s. Harder than anything he’s ever managed. It’s like it’s got a mind of its own, and you don’t even deserve it.” She paused, her breath shaky. “You should be ashamed, letting something this… this *perfect* just hang around like that. It’s too good for you.”

Jake’s grin widened, but he didn’t say a word, letting her stew in her own reluctant admission. Tessa’s hatred flared hotter, but there was something else now—some twisted, begrudging respect for the sheer audacity of it, for how it seemed to outshine everything else in the room, including her boyfriend sitting right there. She couldn’t explain it, didn’t want to, but her hand twitched, and before she could stop herself, she turned her head just enough to press a quick, angry kiss against it.

“There,” she whispered, her lips brushing it as she spoke. “Out of respect for how big it is. How hard it is. It deserves it—more than you do, you prick. More than Mike, even. He’s just sitting there, clueless, while this… this thing deserves to be pleased. Worshipped, almost. And I *hate* you for it.”

She kissed it again, harder this time, a defiant little worship session fueled by spite and fascination. Her words came faster, a stream of justification she couldn’t hold back. “It’s not fair. You’re a jerk, but this? This is something else. It’s like it’s mocking me, mocking him, and I have to give it what it deserves because it’s just… better. Bigger. Harder. It needs attention, and you don’t even know what to do with it, do you? God, I hate you.”

Jake chuckled softly, finally lifting it off her shoulder and stepping back, his pants still down but his point clearly made. “Good girl,” he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear, before sauntering off toward the kitchen like nothing had happened.

Tessa sat there, her heart racing, her skin prickling with a mix of fury and something she refused to name. Mike turned to her, oblivious as ever. “You okay? You’re breathing weird.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, forcing a tight smile. “Just… the movie. Intense scene.”

She sank back into the couch, her mind a chaotic mess, hating Jake more than ever—but unable to shake the image of what she’d just done, or why.

---

More please!