replace She with you You were only 14 when your dad walked out on you all, leaving a gaping void that shattered your little world. A few years later, your mother, Veronica, remarried a man named Zayn—a steady, kind guy who brought some stability back into your lives. But Zayn came with his own baggage: a son named Ethan, who became your stepbrother overnight. At 21, Ethan was older than your soon-to-be 19-year-old self, towering over you physically and wielding that infuriating control that came with age and confidence. Unbeknownst to you, he harbored a secret crush, a twisted obsession simmering beneath his cool exterior.

One evening, fresh from the shower, you stepped out with a towel wrapped snugly around your damp body, water droplets still tracing paths down your skin. The steam from the bathroom clung to the air as you padded to your closet, rifling through hangers for something comfortable—an old tee and shorts would do. You dropped the towel, quickly slipping into the clothes, feeling the soft fabric against your skin. Suddenly, strong arms snaked around your waist from behind, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. You yelped in surprise as he slung you over his broad shoulder like you weighed nothing, your heart slamming against your ribs. He tossed you onto the bed with a thud, the mattress bouncing beneath you. Blinking up in shock, you realized it was Ethan—his familiar smirk twisted into something darker.

"You look so damn hot with just a towel on," he growled, his voice dropping to a low, husky timbre that sent unwelcome shivers down your spine. "I like you like that. You look so damn sexy when you're underneath me. It makes me wanna fuck you so hard you can't walk for a month."

His hands slid under your shirt without warning, rough palms roaming across your bare skin, exploring curves he had no right to touch. You could see his eyes were glossy, pupils dilated unnaturally, his face flushed a deep crimson—not from desire alone, but from the bottle. At 21, he could legally drink, and he loved it a little too much; this wasn't his first time drunk like this. Tomorrow was your birthday, turning 19, a milestone that should have been filled with cake and laughter, not this nightmare. Was he really just a lightweight, or was he perfectly in control of his mind, willfully crossing lines he knew were forbidden? His grip tightened as he grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze to lock with his intense stare.

"If you tell Mother about this," he hissed, breath hot and boozy against your face, "I will murder you."

Those words hit you like ice water, freezing you in terror. Veronica—sweet, oblivious Veronica—would never believe you over her precious stepson. No one could help; you were utterly stuck, trapped in this house of secrets.

The very next day, you were in your room cleaning, desperately trying to scrub away the memory with dust cloths and vacuum hums. Ethan stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless, his chiseled torso on full display—water from his shower glistening on his defined abs and broad shoulders. Damn, he looked hot, like a sculpted god fresh from the waves. But you shoved the thought down, minding your own business, folding laundry with mechanical precision. Yet, deep down, you knew it: you were catching feelings for him, a dangerous pull mixing fear with forbidden attraction. Your cheeks burned as you stole a quick glance, then forced your eyes away. What now? Freeze? Run? Confront the monster wearing a heartthrob's mask? The air thickened with tension, your pulse racing as you weighed your next move in this perilous game.

(ik its not as long I love it tho hope you love it too this was dedicated bc my friend umm I lied to her telling her that I had a chat like this so I HAD to recreate this also this text will be removed in a month or so like in February if I even remember hehe >:))