Warnings: Explicit language, AGE GAP, taboo relations (EXTREMELY FORBIDDEN), Brother’s best friend, enemies to lovers
Disclaimers: I warned you about it being taboo with the age gap guys, don’t read if you can’t handle!
Word Count: 7, 226 words
Summary: Reader has been infatuated with her brother’s best friend, Harry, since she first met him. In her mind, the beautiful but jaded boy she’s madly in love with will always see her as just his best friend’s annoying little sister. But all of that changes one night when lines are crossed. After that fateful night, Harry leaves her with not even a goodbye. Years later, he’s back and they’re both full of hatred for one another…or are they?
A/n: Oh, hey! I wrote this yearsss ago and suddenly remembered about it and I just had to edit n post it. I know it’s been a long while. I’ve grown a lot as a writer since and I hope to be able to write/share once more with you all. Enjoy!
There are moments in life when you’re so completely caught up in the now, so utterly consumed by it, that nothing else exists. Not the past, not the consequences waiting around the corner. In that instant, nothing matters but the moment itself—and for that fleeting second, it feels like everything is worth it.
For someone like you—someone with stability, with a life carefully mapped out—those moments are rare.
Once, you thought you’d found one. You believed it was real, that it could change everything. But you were young, naïve, and stubborn, willing to pin the blame on him for deceiving you, for manipulating you—when deep down, you knew the truth. The fault had always been yours.
You had chosen to be a fool. To let your reckless infatuation with your older brother’s best friend push you headfirst into a world of heartache. You’d believed that a single moment—just one—could rewrite the sad, unchangeable reality of your life… and his.
If you had known what would come after, the aftermath, the pain, you would have stopped yourself. You would have never let it happen. Never let him in.
And yet, the cruelest part is that you still can’t let it go. That moment lingers, a tiny film you replay over and over in your mind. It haunts your thoughts, your nights, your dreams… he haunts them too.
And oh, what you wouldn’t give to take it all back.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
This fic has me shocked. the way it’s written, the way inner turmoil is conveyed makes it more lifelike. I truly feel like I’m in the Peaky Blinder’s universe when reading this.
Happiness // @zodiyack
My heart is full to its brim. I couldn’t of imagined a sweeter lifestyle for Tommy, it’s everything he deserves. The loving relationship between the reader and him is something i know want to achieve. A gorgeously written fic, that has captured my heart.
Woman? // @thehardy-boys
I remember reading this fic (as one of my first eve fics) and the idea of an undercover Peaky Blinder blew my mind, i was on edge eagerly waiting for the twist. No amount of preparation can prepare anyone for the way the fic ends. Another amazing thing about the fic, shows naivety from the Shelby brother, who are all so willing to have someone new join their ranks
A Shelby // @blinder-baker
A short and sweet fic, fitting the timeline of the Peaky Blinders while showing a softer side of Tommy. The respect he has for the reader in the circumstances is something I hadn’t considered about his personality, but I adore the incorporation of it. A beautiful fic
Oblivious // @weirdochick56
I am speechless, I wish I lived in this fic. The brother-sister relationship between the reader and Arthur brings a side to him that i’ve never seen. Dynamics between Tommy and reader are tense, and i’m awaiting to see what happens. Will reader end up a friend? Or will Tommy accept his feelings?
Contradictions // @watery-lane
This fic, it is essentially perfect. It contains the perfect amount of compassion, angst and character willpower. It is the perfect recipe for a heartbroken reader, i will admit, I am now sad but I’d give my world to read this fic for the first time again. It is worth the read and more.
Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!
Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.
Word Count: 4, 370 Words
Summary: Lines are blurred and emotions run high when Steve and Reader find themselves in a vulnerable state with eachother.
A/N: I know it’s been too long. I hope you all still care, if not it’s alright but regardless, hope you enjoy. <3
READ CHAPTER NINE HERE!!
*
(gif not mine!!)
You’re sleeping soundly when suddenly, a loud THUD jolts you out of your sleep. Sitting up in bed, startled and dazed, you strain against the darkness of the room, searching for the origin of the sound.
Your mind sways with sleep and it takes you a while to finally come to, but when you do, you hear rustling from downstairs, and your heart jolts. Still sleepy, you get out of bed and trudge carefully towards the living room, barefooted as the carpet of the stairs presses into your feet reassuring you that you were in fact awake and this was in fact real and not a dream.
The sound gets louder and you squint when your gaze naturally reaches the couch in the middle of the living room.
And what you find awaiting you is nothing short of horrific.
You see Steve toss and turn beneath his blanket aggressively, little groans leaving his lips.
Fear instantly grips you and you practically run over to him, afraid that he’s hurt.
You crouch down next to him, worry gripping your every cell. His groans turn into whimpers and you lean closer, watching him tensely.
A bead of sweat from his hairline rolls down his scrunched-up forehead, traveling further down his troubled face and then his flushed neck before disappearing into his blanket.
You don’t know whether to attempt waking him up or not but seeing him like this…it…
You wince, gripping at your heart slightly.
It hurt.
You reach your hand out, ready to wake him up…And yet you can’t bring yourself to do so..
There’s such vulnerability in seeing him like this…you’re almost too absorbed by his pain and yours to wake him up.
So you sit, you sit and you watch him. You don’t know what kind of nightmare he’s having but there is a sense of closeness you feel by being there while he has it.
Are you the first person who sees him like this? So broken and afraid?
Steve’s POV
I’m six years old again, my father’s voice is loud even as I cower behind his desk.
“Joseph, please!” I hear my mom sob brokenly, begging him to stop even as the room lies in complete disarray, stuff torn and broken all over. “Steven he’s-“
Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!
Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.
Word Count: 4, 370 Words
Summary: Lines are blurred and emotions run high when Steve and Reader find themselves in a vulnerable state with eachother.
A/N: I know it’s been too long. I hope you all still care, if not it’s alright but regardless, hope you enjoy. <3
READ CHAPTER NINE HERE!!
*
(gif not mine!!)
You’re sleeping soundly when suddenly, a loud THUD jolts you out of your sleep. Sitting up in bed, startled and dazed, you strain against the darkness of the room, searching for the origin of the sound.
Your mind sways with sleep and it takes you a while to finally come to, but when you do, you hear rustling from downstairs, and your heart jolts. Still sleepy, you get out of bed and trudge carefully towards the living room, barefooted as the carpet of the stairs presses into your feet reassuring you that you were in fact awake and this was in fact real and not a dream.
The sound gets louder and you squint when your gaze naturally reaches the couch in the middle of the living room.
And what you find awaiting you is nothing short of horrific.
You see Steve toss and turn beneath his blanket aggressively, little groans leaving his lips.
Fear instantly grips you and you practically run over to him, afraid that he’s hurt.
You crouch down next to him, worry gripping your every cell. His groans turn into whimpers and you lean closer, watching him tensely.
A bead of sweat from his hairline rolls down his scrunched-up forehead, traveling further down his troubled face and then his flushed neck before disappearing into his blanket.
You don’t know whether to attempt waking him up or not but seeing him like this…it…
You wince, gripping at your heart slightly.
It hurt.
You reach your hand out, ready to wake him up…And yet you can’t bring yourself to do so..
There’s such vulnerability in seeing him like this…you’re almost too absorbed by his pain and yours to wake him up.
So you sit, you sit and you watch him. You don’t know what kind of nightmare he’s having but there is a sense of closeness you feel by being there while he has it.
Are you the first person who sees him like this? So broken and afraid?
Steve’s POV
I’m six years old again, my father’s voice is loud even as I cower behind his desk.
“Joseph, please!” I hear my mom sob brokenly, begging him to stop even as the room lies in complete disarray, stuff torn and broken all over. “Steven he’s-“
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!
Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.
Word Count: 4, 370 Words
Summary: Lines are blurred and emotions run high when Steve and Reader find themselves in a vulnerable state with eachother.
A/N: I know it’s been too long. I hope you all still care, if not it’s alright but regardless, hope you enjoy. <3
READ CHAPTER NINE HERE!!
*
(gif not mine!!)
You’re sleeping soundly when suddenly, a loud THUD jolts you out of your sleep. Sitting up in bed, startled and dazed, you strain against the darkness of the room, searching for the origin of the sound.
Your mind sways with sleep and it takes you a while to finally come to, but when you do, you hear rustling from downstairs, and your heart jolts. Still sleepy, you get out of bed and trudge carefully towards the living room, barefooted as the carpet of the stairs presses into your feet reassuring you that you were in fact awake and this was in fact real and not a dream.
The sound gets louder and you squint when your gaze naturally reaches the couch in the middle of the living room.
And what you find awaiting you is nothing short of horrific.
You see Steve toss and turn beneath his blanket aggressively, little groans leaving his lips.
Fear instantly grips you and you practically run over to him, afraid that he’s hurt.
You crouch down next to him, worry gripping your every cell. His groans turn into whimpers and you lean closer, watching him tensely.
A bead of sweat from his hairline rolls down his scrunched-up forehead, traveling further down his troubled face and then his flushed neck before disappearing into his blanket.
You don’t know whether to attempt waking him up or not but seeing him like this…it…
You wince, gripping at your heart slightly.
It hurt.
You reach your hand out, ready to wake him up…And yet you can’t bring yourself to do so..
There’s such vulnerability in seeing him like this…you’re almost too absorbed by his pain and yours to wake him up.
So you sit, you sit and you watch him. You don’t know what kind of nightmare he’s having but there is a sense of closeness you feel by being there while he has it.
Are you the first person who sees him like this? So broken and afraid?
Steve’s POV
I’m six years old again, my father’s voice is loud even as I cower behind his desk.
“Joseph, please!” I hear my mom sob brokenly, begging him to stop even as the room lies in complete disarray, stuff torn and broken all over. “Steven he’s-“
Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!
Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.
Word Count: 4, 370 Words
Summary: Lines are blurred and emotions run high when Steve and Reader find themselves in a vulnerable state with eachother.
A/N: I know it’s been too long. I hope you all still care, if not it’s alright but regardless, hope you enjoy. <3
READ CHAPTER NINE HERE!!
*
(gif not mine!!)
You’re sleeping soundly when suddenly, a loud THUD jolts you out of your sleep. Sitting up in bed, startled and dazed, you strain against the darkness of the room, searching for the origin of the sound.
Your mind sways with sleep and it takes you a while to finally come to, but when you do, you hear rustling from downstairs, and your heart jolts. Still sleepy, you get out of bed and trudge carefully towards the living room, barefooted as the carpet of the stairs presses into your feet reassuring you that you were in fact awake and this was in fact real and not a dream.
The sound gets louder and you squint when your gaze naturally reaches the couch in the middle of the living room.
And what you find awaiting you is nothing short of horrific.
You see Steve toss and turn beneath his blanket aggressively, little groans leaving his lips.
Fear instantly grips you and you practically run over to him, afraid that he’s hurt.
You crouch down next to him, worry gripping your every cell. His groans turn into whimpers and you lean closer, watching him tensely.
A bead of sweat from his hairline rolls down his scrunched-up forehead, traveling further down his troubled face and then his flushed neck before disappearing into his blanket.
You don’t know whether to attempt waking him up or not but seeing him like this…it…
You wince, gripping at your heart slightly.
It hurt.
You reach your hand out, ready to wake him up…And yet you can’t bring yourself to do so..
There’s such vulnerability in seeing him like this…you’re almost too absorbed by his pain and yours to wake him up.
So you sit, you sit and you watch him. You don’t know what kind of nightmare he’s having but there is a sense of closeness you feel by being there while he has it.
Are you the first person who sees him like this? So broken and afraid?
Steve’s POV
I’m six years old again, my father’s voice is loud even as I cower behind his desk.
“Joseph, please!” I hear my mom sob brokenly, begging him to stop even as the room lies in complete disarray, stuff torn and broken all over. “Steven he’s-“
Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!
Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.
Word Count: 4, 370 Words
Summary: Lines are blurred and emotions run high when Steve and Reader find themselves in a vulnerable state with eachother.
A/N: I know it’s been too long. I hope you all still care, if not it’s alright but regardless, hope you enjoy. <3
READ CHAPTER NINE HERE!!
*
(gif not mine!!)
You’re sleeping soundly when suddenly, a loud THUD jolts you out of your sleep. Sitting up in bed, startled and dazed, you strain against the darkness of the room, searching for the origin of the sound.
Your mind sways with sleep and it takes you a while to finally come to, but when you do, you hear rustling from downstairs, and your heart jolts. Still sleepy, you get out of bed and trudge carefully towards the living room, barefooted as the carpet of the stairs presses into your feet reassuring you that you were in fact awake and this was in fact real and not a dream.
The sound gets louder and you squint when your gaze naturally reaches the couch in the middle of the living room.
And what you find awaiting you is nothing short of horrific.
You see Steve toss and turn beneath his blanket aggressively, little groans leaving his lips.
Fear instantly grips you and you practically run over to him, afraid that he’s hurt.
You crouch down next to him, worry gripping your every cell. His groans turn into whimpers and you lean closer, watching him tensely.
A bead of sweat from his hairline rolls down his scrunched-up forehead, traveling further down his troubled face and then his flushed neck before disappearing into his blanket.
You don’t know whether to attempt waking him up or not but seeing him like this…it…
You wince, gripping at your heart slightly.
It hurt.
You reach your hand out, ready to wake him up…And yet you can’t bring yourself to do so..
There’s such vulnerability in seeing him like this…you’re almost too absorbed by his pain and yours to wake him up.
So you sit, you sit and you watch him. You don’t know what kind of nightmare he’s having but there is a sense of closeness you feel by being there while he has it.
Are you the first person who sees him like this? So broken and afraid?
Steve’s POV
I’m six years old again, my father’s voice is loud even as I cower behind his desk.
“Joseph, please!” I hear my mom sob brokenly, begging him to stop even as the room lies in complete disarray, stuff torn and broken all over. “Steven he’s-“
Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!
Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.
Word Count: 4, 370 Words
Summary: Lines are blurred and emotions run high when Steve and Reader find themselves in a vulnerable state with eachother.
A/N: I know it’s been too long. I hope you all still care, if not it’s alright but regardless, hope you enjoy. <3
READ CHAPTER NINE HERE!!
*
(gif not mine!!)
You’re sleeping soundly when suddenly, a loud THUD jolts you out of your sleep. Sitting up in bed, startled and dazed, you strain against the darkness of the room, searching for the origin of the sound.
Your mind sways with sleep and it takes you a while to finally come to, but when you do, you hear rustling from downstairs, and your heart jolts. Still sleepy, you get out of bed and trudge carefully towards the living room, barefooted as the carpet of the stairs presses into your feet reassuring you that you were in fact awake and this was in fact real and not a dream.
The sound gets louder and you squint when your gaze naturally reaches the couch in the middle of the living room.
And what you find awaiting you is nothing short of horrific.
You see Steve toss and turn beneath his blanket aggressively, little groans leaving his lips.
Fear instantly grips you and you practically run over to him, afraid that he’s hurt.
You crouch down next to him, worry gripping your every cell. His groans turn into whimpers and you lean closer, watching him tensely.
A bead of sweat from his hairline rolls down his scrunched-up forehead, traveling further down his troubled face and then his flushed neck before disappearing into his blanket.
You don’t know whether to attempt waking him up or not but seeing him like this…it…
You wince, gripping at your heart slightly.
It hurt.
You reach your hand out, ready to wake him up…And yet you can’t bring yourself to do so..
There’s such vulnerability in seeing him like this…you’re almost too absorbed by his pain and yours to wake him up.
So you sit, you sit and you watch him. You don’t know what kind of nightmare he’s having but there is a sense of closeness you feel by being there while he has it.
Are you the first person who sees him like this? So broken and afraid?
Steve’s POV
I’m six years old again, my father’s voice is loud even as I cower behind his desk.
“Joseph, please!” I hear my mom sob brokenly, begging him to stop even as the room lies in complete disarray, stuff torn and broken all over. “Steven he’s-“
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!
Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.
Word Count: 4, 370 Words
Summary: Lines are blurred and emotions run high when Steve and Reader find themselves in a vulnerable state with eachother.
A/N: I know it’s been too long. I hope you all still care, if not it’s alright but regardless, hope you enjoy. <3
READ CHAPTER NINE HERE!!
*
(gif not mine!!)
You’re sleeping soundly when suddenly, a loud THUD jolts you out of your sleep. Sitting up in bed, startled and dazed, you strain against the darkness of the room, searching for the origin of the sound.
Your mind sways with sleep and it takes you a while to finally come to, but when you do, you hear rustling from downstairs, and your heart jolts. Still sleepy, you get out of bed and trudge carefully towards the living room, barefooted as the carpet of the stairs presses into your feet reassuring you that you were in fact awake and this was in fact real and not a dream.
The sound gets louder and you squint when your gaze naturally reaches the couch in the middle of the living room.
And what you find awaiting you is nothing short of horrific.
You see Steve toss and turn beneath his blanket aggressively, little groans leaving his lips.
Fear instantly grips you and you practically run over to him, afraid that he’s hurt.
You crouch down next to him, worry gripping your every cell. His groans turn into whimpers and you lean closer, watching him tensely.
A bead of sweat from his hairline rolls down his scrunched-up forehead, traveling further down his troubled face and then his flushed neck before disappearing into his blanket.
You don’t know whether to attempt waking him up or not but seeing him like this…it…
You wince, gripping at your heart slightly.
It hurt.
You reach your hand out, ready to wake him up…And yet you can’t bring yourself to do so..
There’s such vulnerability in seeing him like this…you’re almost too absorbed by his pain and yours to wake him up.
So you sit, you sit and you watch him. You don’t know what kind of nightmare he’s having but there is a sense of closeness you feel by being there while he has it.
Are you the first person who sees him like this? So broken and afraid?
Steve’s POV
I’m six years old again, my father’s voice is loud even as I cower behind his desk.
“Joseph, please!” I hear my mom sob brokenly, begging him to stop even as the room lies in complete disarray, stuff torn and broken all over. “Steven he’s-“
Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!
Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.
Word Count: 4, 370 Words
Summary: Lines are blurred and emotions run high when Steve and Reader find themselves in a vulnerable state with eachother.
A/N: I know it’s been too long. I hope you all still care, if not it’s alright but regardless, hope you enjoy. <3
READ CHAPTER NINE HERE!!
*
(gif not mine!!)
You’re sleeping soundly when suddenly, a loud THUD jolts you out of your sleep. Sitting up in bed, startled and dazed, you strain against the darkness of the room, searching for the origin of the sound.
Your mind sways with sleep and it takes you a while to finally come to, but when you do, you hear rustling from downstairs, and your heart jolts. Still sleepy, you get out of bed and trudge carefully towards the living room, barefooted as the carpet of the stairs presses into your feet reassuring you that you were in fact awake and this was in fact real and not a dream.
The sound gets louder and you squint when your gaze naturally reaches the couch in the middle of the living room.
And what you find awaiting you is nothing short of horrific.
You see Steve toss and turn beneath his blanket aggressively, little groans leaving his lips.
Fear instantly grips you and you practically run over to him, afraid that he’s hurt.
You crouch down next to him, worry gripping your every cell. His groans turn into whimpers and you lean closer, watching him tensely.
A bead of sweat from his hairline rolls down his scrunched-up forehead, traveling further down his troubled face and then his flushed neck before disappearing into his blanket.
You don’t know whether to attempt waking him up or not but seeing him like this…it…
You wince, gripping at your heart slightly.
It hurt.
You reach your hand out, ready to wake him up…And yet you can’t bring yourself to do so..
There’s such vulnerability in seeing him like this…you’re almost too absorbed by his pain and yours to wake him up.
So you sit, you sit and you watch him. You don’t know what kind of nightmare he’s having but there is a sense of closeness you feel by being there while he has it.
Are you the first person who sees him like this? So broken and afraid?
Steve’s POV
I’m six years old again, my father’s voice is loud even as I cower behind his desk.
“Joseph, please!” I hear my mom sob brokenly, begging him to stop even as the room lies in complete disarray, stuff torn and broken all over. “Steven he’s-“
Warnings: Explicit language, set in a universe where Pietro isn’t Wanda’s twin, but her older brother!!!
Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU plots/characters mentioned.
Word Count: 4, 370 Words
Summary: Lines are blurred and emotions run high when Steve and Reader find themselves in a vulnerable state with eachother.
A/N: I know it’s been too long. I hope you all still care, if not it’s alright but regardless, hope you enjoy. <3
READ CHAPTER NINE HERE!!
*
(gif not mine!!)
You’re sleeping soundly when suddenly, a loud THUD jolts you out of your sleep. Sitting up in bed, startled and dazed, you strain against the darkness of the room, searching for the origin of the sound.
Your mind sways with sleep and it takes you a while to finally come to, but when you do, you hear rustling from downstairs, and your heart jolts. Still sleepy, you get out of bed and trudge carefully towards the living room, barefooted as the carpet of the stairs presses into your feet reassuring you that you were in fact awake and this was in fact real and not a dream.
The sound gets louder and you squint when your gaze naturally reaches the couch in the middle of the living room.
And what you find awaiting you is nothing short of horrific.
You see Steve toss and turn beneath his blanket aggressively, little groans leaving his lips.
Fear instantly grips you and you practically run over to him, afraid that he’s hurt.
You crouch down next to him, worry gripping your every cell. His groans turn into whimpers and you lean closer, watching him tensely.
A bead of sweat from his hairline rolls down his scrunched-up forehead, traveling further down his troubled face and then his flushed neck before disappearing into his blanket.
You don’t know whether to attempt waking him up or not but seeing him like this…it…
You wince, gripping at your heart slightly.
It hurt.
You reach your hand out, ready to wake him up…And yet you can’t bring yourself to do so..
There’s such vulnerability in seeing him like this…you’re almost too absorbed by his pain and yours to wake him up.
So you sit, you sit and you watch him. You don’t know what kind of nightmare he’s having but there is a sense of closeness you feel by being there while he has it.
Are you the first person who sees him like this? So broken and afraid?
Steve’s POV
I’m six years old again, my father’s voice is loud even as I cower behind his desk.
“Joseph, please!” I hear my mom sob brokenly, begging him to stop even as the room lies in complete disarray, stuff torn and broken all over. “Steven he’s-“
“A useless piece of shit!” My father cuts her off and I can practically see his snarl.
I try to do as mom had instructed and cover my ears, but my small trembling fingers do nothing to keep out my father’s rough voice, always so thick with disdain and hatred for my mother and me.
I hated it. I hated him.
“Don’t say that about him!” She yells back with what I knew was a very small amount of courage. “He’s just a kid! But he’s smart and he’s strong.”
My father’s cold disregarding laugh stayed imprinted on my mind for the rest of my life after that night.
“Smart and strong?” he growled, in disbelief. “He’s a fucking half-wit with as much value as an expired fucking coupon.”
I instantly felt pain flood me and I whimpered as the words seared through me. My father didn’t miss a single chance to let me know how useless and invaluable he thought I was.
The next thing I knew, the desk was flying off from around me and the cold air was rushing in. I spun around in my fetal position as my mom rushed forward, her face bruised and blotchy with tears. Papers and pens flew everywhere and I watched them, eyes wide.
“Joseph no-“
But it was too late. My dad took a hold of my shoulders, lifting me as I wailed for him to let me go. His mean face never ceased as he roughly carried me to another room.
I kicked and screamed to no avail. I knew how this nightmare would end.
And I knew because it was a memory more than a nightmare.
Feeling inevitable doom and absolute horror grip me as my father dragged me to my bedroom, sat me on the floor, and took off his belt, I flinched.
He looked down at me with disgust. Cold and impenetrable.
“You fucking mistake,” he mused coldly. “I’m gonna teach you a thing or two about being a fucking man.”
And then he raised his belt.
“No!”
I feel someone gently shaking me and a sweet voice cutting through my nightmare.
“Steve!”
Just then I jolt awake. I sit up straight, panting loud as hell.
My head instinctively seeks out the voice and I find the beautiful face of Y/n, staring at me with great fucking concern.
My eyes are still wide and my chest heaves. I look down at myself just to find a thin layer of sweat covering me, a sheen.
Swallowing with difficulty, I draw in a sharp breath and close my eyes for a split second. God fucking dammit. Not this shit again. Not….in front of her.
“A-are you okay?”
That sweet voice. That sweet fucking voice. It brings me instant relief, making me feel like there was kindness and light even in moments like these and yet…it also brought me discomfort.
Knowing she was seeing me like this made me feel guilty-- like she didn’t deserve to see this side of me and it was an unusual form of torture.
So I rub my hand over my face and try to smile at her reassuringly as best I can. Though I can feel my lips tremble slightly.
“I’m okay, Angel. Just a little night terror. I’m sorry for waking you up. You should go back to bed.”
But her frown deepens and those pretty eyes seek my gaze out for further confirmation which causes my chest to constrict that much more at how worried she looks.
She’s fucking adorable.
“I’ll go get you some water,” she whispers after giving me a light once over.
And then without waiting for my response she heads into the kitchen.
I inhale deeply as I hear her rustling about in the kitchen, searching for a cup to fill with water, feeling mentally and physically exhausted.
The nightmares were a common occurrence so I could deal with them to some extent. But having someone here when I woke up from one…that was a different matter altogether.
Y/n returns with a glass of water, handing it to me as she crouches before me again. I see her face is still creased into that ridiculously cute little frown and I can’t help but reach out and smooth the silky skin out with my fingers.
“Stop frowning like someone died,” I croak jokingly before taking a sip of cool water.
But Y/n doesn’t smile. Instead, she titls her head at me and my fingers naturally fall onto her jaw, gripping it slightly. Her pulse is strong and steady beneath my fingertips and something about it lulls me in calmness.
This. This was real life.
Her long lashes flutter and her eyes sparkle as she gives me a look akin to that of a kicked puppy.
“Steve…” she whines a little.
Good God she’s pretty when she’s worried.
How I have her this close and still haven’t done anything ungentlemanly is a fucking mystery.
“Stop acting like you’re okay,” she whispers before swallowing. “Your nightmare was pretty bad, am I right?”
I sigh, looking away slightly because I know there’s no getting out of this. Her soft hand gently creeps up and her tiny fingers grip mine.
It’s a small thing- definitely not something someone like me should trip over but it’s still significant.
I’ve always been the one to initiate physical contact with Y/n and even when she’s reciprocated it’s never been this…tender.
My eyes slowly crawl back to hers, questioning. I expect her to redden in that cute way she does when she becomes embarrassed, to cower and draw her hand back quickly, but she doesn’t.
Instead, her fingers curl around my hand tightly and I all but fall apart.
“You can tell me, Steve. You can tell me anything.”
Any walls I had? Those words right there just abolished them.
And then my mouth is moving without asking for permission first.
“It was about my dad,” I whisper, feeling an avalanche of memories and emotions I’ve worked hard to keep down coming up suddenly.
She seems to look at me expectantly, but I quickly swallow the bile crawling up my throat and shake my head, giving her a crooked smile.
“Anyway, it’s old news. Past shit, no need to worry about it now.” I caress her cheek with my thumb and she seems to catch onto the fact that I don’t really feel like talking about it and relents.
“Okay,” she mumbles even though I can tell from her eyes she has a million things to ask me.
I nod, sighing a little in relief. “Okay.”
Then she says something really unexpected.
“Sleep with me.”
My head snaps towards her. She instantly grows flushed, shaking her head profusely. “O-oh my God! That came out all wrong,” she wheezes, biting her lip. “I meant come sleep with me, as in sleep next to me. On the bed.”
I can’t help the small laugh that escapes me.
“You’re something else, angel.”
I shake my head affectionately and she smacks her forehead.
I shrug as my laughter subsides. “I already told you why I can’t do that.”
A beat passes and I get the sense she’s thinking. Suddenly she perks up.
“What if I put a wall of pillows between us?”
Her suggestion is a blurt, really, as if it was lighting thought that escaped her mouth before she could really think it through and I can’t help but cock a brow. “Huh.”
She nods, fiddling with her fingers. “C’mon,” she urges, eyes desperate.
“It’s just…” she eyes the couch, sighing. “I feel bad kicking you out of your own bed. And I haven’t been able to sleep properly because of it. Please, I’ll have pillows between us.”
I can feel my lips curling on one side, unable to hold back the urge to tease her. I lean forward a little.
“And do you really think…” I lick my lips for emphasis. “If I really fucking wanted to, a few pillows would be enough to keep me away?”
She scoffs nervously, scratching her neck slightly. “Steve, c’mon. You’re not some big bad wolf and I’m not a scared little girl. We’ll be fine.”
“So you’re not scared huh?”
She swallows. “No.”
I offer her my best predatory smile, flicking her a dark look.
“You should be. Who knows..” I trail off licking my lips lightly.
“I could blow your little pillow wall down and ravage you…”
She trembles a little and I see the hairs on her arms rise. Pride overcomes me and I fight to not smile like an idiot as she struggles to say something in return.
“You’re not scary Steve. So just c’mon,” She squeaks.
I smirk. “Okay then. If you’re certain, then I’ll sleep with you-“ my smirk widens. “Next to you I mean.”
She nods a bit timidly and I can’t help the part of me, the dark one, that wants to devour her whole- innocence and all.
Maybe I am a big bad wolf after all.
She slowly rises and my eyes instantly stray to her glorious body, which I now remember is clothed only by the tiniest of bikinis and my shirt.
I instantly regret giving in. Especially when I see her go up the stairs.
The shirt flutters over her creamy thighs, giving just the tiniest most torturous peek at her perky ass and I groan a little as I reluctantly follow her.
The death of me, she’d be.
*
Your POV
“So this is your so-called wall?” Steve eyes the small makeshift divider you created on the bed, using up all but four pillows with bemusement.
You nod shyly, refusing to look him in the eye and he chuckles a little.
“Fine,” he quips and you look at him with a small smile.
His fingers quickly reach down to the hem of his sleeping pants and without so much as a second of hesitation, he tugs them down, swiftly stepping out of them.
God damn.
Your mouth all but falls open.
His impressive torso flexes when he crosses his arms over his strong chest and your eyes trail over it, sliding down until they land on his crotch area…where he’s only wearing a pair of gray Calvin Klein boxers.
You feel your eyes widen and your cheeks feel hot. Sure you’d seen him shirtless plenty of times before, but it never lost its shock factor. Not one tiny bit.
Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to take much note of your flustered state and instead casually strides closer to the bed.
You bite your lip as you watch him. Do guys get to have such nice asses? You wonder.
As if sensing your eyes on him, he looks at you over his shoulder and you quickly switch your gaze to his eyes. Judging from his shit-eating grin not fast enough though.
He cocks a brow. “Coming?”
You bite your lip, suddenly feeling uneasy. The proximity in which you’d be is suddenly sinking in.
“Um…”
He runs a hand through his hair. “Oh c’mon, you’re not backing out now are you?”
“Of course not. I just…I’m going.” You shake your head decisively.
You do a funny little jog to the bed and Steve laughs loudly as you quickly get under the covers, pulling them up to your chin and turning away from his side. Your heart beats erratically in your ears as you hear him sink into the bed beside you.
The wall is between us, you reason. There’s also no way Steve would ever do anything inappropriate. You haven’t known him long but you…trusted him.
It was an irrational kind of trust, one you couldn’t explain but could feel with your very being.
Silence falls over you and you suddenly feel the need to break it.
“Steve?” you call out quietly.
“Yes?”
“Who’s Sarah?”
Stillness. No one says anything and you cringe instantly. God, you stupid idiot! You open your mouth to apologize profusely, but his soft sigh cuts you off.
“Why do you want to know?” Nothing in his voice is angry or confrontational, just curious.
You turn on your back, staring at the ceiling as you swallow thickly.
“…your tattoo,” you whisper.
He hums in understanding before releasing another tiny sigh.
“My mom. It was my mom’s name.”
His voice is quiet but you still manage to catch the slight tremble to it.
Your eyebrows reflectively raise at his revelation. “Oh.”
“She died when I was fourteen.”
You’re shocked into silence at the fact that he had willingly divulged that information. Clearing your throat softly, you speak…
“What was she like?”
Steve sucks in a sharp breath. “Strong as hell,” he breathes out. “Resilient. The best mother in the world. Soft and kind-hearted as fuck but she swore like a sailor.”
You can help but smile a little. “Sounds a lot like you.”
Steve laughs but when it ceases, silence ensues once more.
Then he breaks it.
“Doll?”
“Mhm.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m a good guy,” he rasps.
You frown.
“W-why do you say that?” You stumble the tiniest bit over your words.
“You know why,” he spits as if your very question aggravated him. “You can deny it all you want but…” he trails off. “You don’t have to say what your body says for you.”
At that, you suck in a sharp breath. He’s right. But for once it’s not his analysis of your feelings for him that makes a sharp anger spike in you it’s something else entirely this time.
You were so sick and tired of people treating you like a weakling. First Stephen, who thought he could take advantage of you, and now Steve warning you away…why?
Sitting upright, you roughly knock a few pillows from the wall down, so your top halves were revealed and you were face to face. Frowning you fix your gaze upon his.
“You underestimate me. I’m not under any delusions Steve,” you growl. “So don’t treat me like some spoiled little girl who needs constant warning and protection and who has no self-control when it comes to staying away from dangerous things.”
Decisively, you plop back down on the bed, angrily panting as you glare holes into the ceiling. You can feel his eyes boring into your temple.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he whispers.
“Yeah.” You click your tongue, refusing to look at him. “You never do.”
“Fuck Y/n,” He hisses and you instantly look at him. “What the hell is it that you want from me? Huh?”
“Me?” you point at yourself.
His glare intensifies. “Yes, you. I mean you spent all this fucking time and energy trying to keep me away from you despite all my fucking efforts to win you over and the one damn time I try to warn you away you get pissed, indignant?”
“Yes because you’re patronizing me, Steve!” You yell this at him yet it’s clear in your heart the true reason his words get a rise out of you.
“You have no idea, do you?” He laughs incredulously.
“About what?”
His eyes flare with anger, dark and feral. “About what I’m capable of. The things I’ve done. About the fact that it’s not your self-control, that’s fucking lacking…it’s mine.”
Your lips part in shock as he continues speaking.
“I’m not warning you away from me because I think you’re weak or you don’t have a fucking mind of your own. I’m warning you away from me because I’m letting my guard down around you and once you see who I really am…” he looks away, eyeing the ceiling. Your chest tightens as he smirks in a self-deprecating manner, turning back and slotting his eyes into your patient ones.
“I’m not so sure you’d like what you’ll see,” he whispers. “Who I am…it goes farther than the shit that’s on the surface. It’s so much fucking deeper than a few tattoos and a tough guy exterior. It’s…” he winces. “Uglier.”
He looks so vulnerable right now so…scared. God, was he afraid, truly?
You feel a deep sense of conflict rise in you. On one hand, you had an overwhelming urge to assure him no matter what he showed you, you wouldn’t run away but on the other hand, there was fear. You were afraid of what he might show you, and how it might change you.
Everything you’d been taught growing up, was to keep you from this specific situation. One where you were all alone with a dangerous felon, covered in tattoos and more than capable of ending you, it’d be stupid of you to throw caution to the wind…right?
But it was different with Steve, your curiosity and an almost unbeatable desire to get closer to him, to figure him out despite all the darkness that lurked…it haunted you. And you knew deep down it wouldn’t leave until you got to see him…all of him.
Your body moves without warning, slow but decided as you slowly kick the covers off of your body and brought your legs over the edge.
As you rounded the bed to his side, Steve’s brows rose practically to his hairline. “Y/n what’re y-”
You walk to his side and sit beside him, fixing him a serious gaze. “Let me decide that for myself,” you whisper.
And then you tentatively reach out, hoping he wouldn’t see the way your hand trembled as you placed it gently on the side of his face- much like he’d done to you before.
His muscles tightened beneath your touch and his gaze flickered into something much more lustful as he stared up at your face with slight bewilderment.
“What’re you saying?” He rasped.
“Show me. Show me all you’ve got.”
Steve sucked in a sharp breath, his jaw clenching. “Y/n…”
“Don’t,” you spit, shaking your head as your gaze never wavered from his. “Don’t make excuses, Steve. I’m not intoxicated and I’m asking you to show me.”
His gaze becomes darker, his lips tightly pursed before he speaks again, carefully. “You have no idea what you’re asking for dollface, I can’t…I’d ruin your innocence. And I don’t know if I can forgive myself after doing something like that.”
You’re frustrated, desperate…and a little wet. His gaze is boring into you and his scent overpowers you…the possibility of experiencing something dangerous hangs over you and it exhilarates you to the point that your head spins.
Looking at him, you know he’s putting on a strong front, but it’s easily breakable for you. You just have to know what buttons to push.
“Men are simple creatures,” your mom used to say. “Keep something they truly want away from them long enough and they become so desperate they’ll do anything to get it.”
As the words ring in your head, a dangerous plan forms. What did Steve want more than anything right now?
If the bulge you’ve been trying to ignore for the better part of the night is anything to go by…that’s you.
The plan forming in your mind was dangerous, too dangerous. And although not necessarily difficult to execute, definitely nerve-racking. Still, a fire that’s difficult to describe burns in you, insistently burning away the spikes of ice surrounding your insides…your heart.
You wanted-no needed to do this. To feel him closer.
Trying not to show how nervous you are, you keep looking him in the eye and gently lift yourself up, bringing your leg over to one of his sides and propping the other on the other side. Your heart races as your knees sink into the soft mattress with a little creak and your core lightly brushed against Steve’s hard boxer-clad cock.
Steve, who has been watching you do this with a slightly confused and dazed face, instantly tenses when you sink over him, straddling him fully.
You await his reaction on a bated breath, nerves vibrating with life.
And then his eyes are moving all over you in an instant as if he wants to take a picture of you sitting over him, his chest heaves harder with each second that passes, and his cock swells beneath you. His eyes grow impossibly more animalistic as they flicker to yours, incredulous and turned on but also…pissed.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growls, his face tightening.
You resist the urge to shrink back at his angry words, and instead move on with your dangerous plan, trailing the hand that was previously caressing his face down his neck, over his racing pulse, and slightly scratching your nails over his warm chest.
Steve practically moans.
“Y/n…stop,” he breathes, eyelids growing heavy and half-hooded.
“I want to see you…all of you Steve,” you mumble decisively, batting your lashes at him, turning your head.
Steve practically disintegrates, his neck corded with restraint, his hands tightly fisted and trembling beside him and his eyes manic.
“Y/n, I swear to everything that’s good in this world, you need to stop. I have no control over what I do around you as is and…” He clenches his jaw. “You’re going to regret pushing me.”
You know you should listen to him, you should head to his warning, you should take your legs away from him, remove your hands from his body…fuck, you should’ve stayed away from him from the very beginning. But like from the very beginning, you can’t stay away.
Fervor takes over you and for an instant, your walls melt away completely, your cold exterior, your constantly heightened guard…and all that’s left is you, vulnerable bare you.
“Steve,” you clip your tone, hating the manner in which it trembles and you pin his gaze down with yours. “I need you…”
You gently grab a hold of his hands, which are fastened into fists on the bed, slowly bringing them up to your body and placing them on your hips. Steve is watching the action with ever-darkening eyes and sucks in a sharp breath the moment his fingers press onto your flesh over the shirt.
“I tried to warn you.”
That is the last thing he growls before he’s swiftly flipping you on your back. A gasp escapes you at the blindsiding action as your head hits the soft pillow and suddenly you’re staring up at him, your legs pride open as he slots himself in between them, his big hand gripping your wrists, pinning them above your head.
His cool gaze pierces straight through you, no longer cold and calculating, but hot and with not an ounce of control.
Your heart begins to hammer in your chest at the possibility of what this compromising position could mean. Just as you part your lips to say something, you hear some noise outside the window.
A loud crash echoes throughout the otherwise silent night, causing both you and Steve to jump instantly. And then…another crash.
Steve’s face contorts into confusion and he scowls, quickly getting off of you and pulling on some sleeping pants from a pile near the door.
You watch him, still dazed, and purse your lips, trying to control your wildly beating heart.
He seems completely unaffected aside from the bulge in his pants as he pries the window next to the bed open, swiftly.
Instantly, his face transforms from confusion to something akin to both concern and slight anger.
Quickly, he turns to you, holding a hand out. “Wait right here,” he says sternly, and then he’s gone. As you hear his retreating footsteps, you release a big breath, feeling the tension released from your very bones.
You hadn’t realized just how tense you were in the first place how much he affected you. With a frown of your own, you hesitantly moved towards the window.
Moving the curtains aside, your face quickly transforms in a very similar trajectory as Steve’s.
Your heart drops and you freeze completely.
In front of the house is Steve and someone else. The last person you expected.
When y’all are writing is there ever a point when you’re like “if someone does not lose their mind over this specific bit right here then what am I even doing?”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“It’s just…” she eyes the couch, sighing. “I feel bad kicking you out of your own bed. And I haven’t been able to sleep properly because of it. Please, I’ll have pillows between us.”
I can feel my lips curling on one side, unable to hold back the urge to tease her. I lean forward a little.
“And do you really think…” I lick my lips for emphasis. “If I really fucking wanted to, a few pillows would be enough to keep me away?”
She scoffs nervously, scratching her neck slightly. “Steve, c’mon. You’re not some big bad wolf and I’m not a scared little girl. We’ll be fine.”
“So you’re not scared huh?”
She swallows. “No.”
I offer her my best predatory smile, flicking her a dark look.
“You should be. Who knows..” I trail off licking my lips lightly.
“I could blow your little pillow wall down and ravage you…”
She trembles a little and I see the hairs on her arms rise. Pride overcomes me and I fight to not smile like an idiot as she struggles to say something in return.
“You’re not scary Steve. So just c’mon,” She squeaks.
I smirk. “Okay then. If you’re certain, then I’ll sleep with you-“ my smirk widens. “Next to you I mean.”
She nods a bit timidly and I can’t help the part of me, the dark one, that wants to devour her whole- innocence and all.
Maybe I am a big bad wolf after all.
She slowly rises and my eyes instantly stray to her glorious body, which I now remember is clothed only by the tiniest of bikinis and my shirt.
I instantly regret giving in. Especially when I see her go up the stairs.
The shirt flutters over her creamy thighs, giving just the tiniest most torturous peek at her perky ass and I groan a little as I reluctantly follow her.
