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lcvemiyuki · 7 months ago

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“when they get jealous” | hq

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃

content: haikyuu boys x reader, when they get jealous over someone else

warnings: disgustingly cute, ushijima x reader + oikawa x reader are established relationships, fem!reader

characters: kageyama, oikawa, ushijima

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Tobio Kageyama

'his pettiness would slip out unintentionally'

You and Kageyama often helped each other with studying, so it wasn’t surprising to find the two of you in a coffee shop with notebooks laid out on the wooden table. Kageyama was focused on his work, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scribbled notes in his notebook. You had given him your neat and organized notes to copy down since the ones he took were the complete opposite.

He was having a good time until this guy, claiming to know you, approached the table. While Kageyama isn't the most socially astute, he couldn't miss the way this guy’s hand occasionally grazed yours or the overly familiar tone in his voice. Every laugh and lingering touch made Kageyama's jaw tighter, his pen digging harder into the paper.

You clearly looked uncomfortable with his pursuits, attempting to let the guy down nicely with an awkward laugh here and there.

“So, I was thinking we should hang out sometime—” The man’s flirtatious invitation was abruptly cut off by a loud, deliberate slurping noise coming from across the table.

You turned to see Kageyama, still focused on his work, but now obnoxiously trying to suck up the last remnants of his coffee from the glass cup. The sound was grating, loud enough to draw annoyed glances from nearby customers.

Each time the guy tried to speak again, the slurping noise grew louder and more exaggerated, making the man visibly frustrated.

“Do you have a problem, man?” he angrily spat, now glaring at the nonchalant guy across from you.

Kageyama took his time to calmly put down his empty glass, his fingers lingering on the rim momentarily before he shifted his gaze to the intruder. His eyes, usually so focused and intense, now burned with an unmistakable, cold irritation.

“I don’t know, do you?” Kageyama’s voice was flat and unyielding, his stare piercing through the man.

You could feel the tension in the air, the intensity of his harsh and cold eyes making the man shift uncomfortably.

“Because she hasn’t said yes to a single thing you’ve said since you got here,” Kageyama continued, his tone blunt and unforgiving. “So I suggest you leave.”

The man hesitated, clearly taken aback by Kageyama’s directness and the unspoken threat in his eyes. Without another word, he turned and walked away, mumbling something under his breath.

Once the guy was out of earshot, you turned back to Kageyama, who was already picking up his pen and resuming his work as if nothing had happened. A small, amused smile tugged at your lips.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said softly, a hint of gratitude in your voice.

Kageyama glanced up, his expression softening slightly as he looked at you. “I didn’t like how he was talking to you. It made me uncomfortable.”

You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. “Thanks, Tobio. I seriously mean it.”

A faint blush tinted his cheeks as he nodded in response, trying to focus back on his notes.

But, he simply couldn't as his attention kept drifting back to you.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

Tooru Oikawa

'he'd try to one-up the person with blatant rudeness'

Oikawa loves spending time with you. When a festival was happening in your hometown, it was a given that he’d go with you. The vibrant atmosphere, the colorful stalls, and the joyful crowd made it a perfect date. He left you alone for a split second to buy some takoyaki.

When he returned, he saw you stopped in the middle of the crowd, awkwardly laughing with some other guy. His smile faltered slightly, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. He playfully nudged your shoulder, interjecting himself into the conversation and cutting off whatever unfunny joke the guy was telling you.

“Hey, sorry for the wait,” Oikawa said, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. His smile was charming as always, but his eyes held a sharp glint as he did a quick look up and down at the guy.

“Wow! Y/N, I didn’t know you snagged a boyfriend while you were away!” the guy laughed with a strain.

Oikawa didn’t miss the way this guy’s gaze shifted slightly, revealing a brief flicker of distaste towards him. His own smile turned to a sneer at the sight of it.

‘Huh, this little prick,’ Oikawa thought, recognizing him as the classmate who had a crush on you in high school. That memory only fueled his irritation, making him want to pull you away from this conversation even more.

As each second passed, the more Oikawa showed how much he didn't like this guy. “Wow, it sounds like you had a great time in high school. But I’m sure nothing beats the fun we have now, right, love?” He directed an innocent smile at you, but you could feel the air thickening with intensity.

Turning back to the guy, Oikawa continued, “It’s so cute how you still remember those high school days. I guess some people never move on from their glory years.”

Your eyes widen at the jab and side-eye your smiley, 'I didn't do anything wrong' boyfriend next to you. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or pinch him for making this even more awkward than it is.

You curtly said goodbye to your classmate, not wanting to drag this out any longer. Without waiting for a response, you grabbed Oikawa’s hand and dragged him away.

Oikawa's disdain towards your friend was clear, his expression contorted with thinly veiled annoyance. He stuck out his tongue in a childish display of disapproval, causing the classmate to stand there, taken aback, and scoff in response.

As you both silently walked beside each other, Oikawa’s demeanor softened, realizing he might've overdone it a tad with this one. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, his voice gentle and sincere. He squeezed your hand, looking at you with an apologetic look.

“No, I'm sorry,” you sighed, glancing up at him. “I should've told him I had to go right when he approached me and look for you. Instead, we were put into an awkward situation."

Oikawa frowned slightly. "You don’t have to apologize. I just—I didn’t like the way he was looking at you."

You stopped and turned to face him, placing your hands on your hips. "Tooru, you need to stop being so childish. Sticking your tongue out? Really?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "You saw that?"

You raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and exasperation on your face. "Of course I saw that. You think I wouldn't notice?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Okay, okay, I admit that might've been a bit much."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "A bit much? Try a lot. You can’t keep doing that."

His pout returned. "But he was—"

"No buts," you interrupted, playfully poking his chest. "I can handle myself, alright? And you definitely don't have to worry about any other guy. You're the only one I want."

His eyes sparkled at your reassurance, his smile widening. "You know, there's no one else I'd rather have but you~" he playfully coos back, earning a soft slap to the chest from you.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

Wakatoshi Ushijima

'he barely gets jealous, but when he does, his reserved demeanor slips with subtle signals'

You frequently showed up to Ushijima’s practices to support him, admiring his dedication and skill. Today was no different, but what you didn’t know was that there was a new player on the team. He was quite charming and flirtatious, so when he saw you, he couldn’t help but make a move.

“Hey sweetheart, are you lost?” the new player approached you, his hair matted with sweat and a cocky grin on his face.

“Oh no. I’m Y/N, Ushijima’s—” you started to explain, but he cut you off.

“Fan?” he guessed, leaning closer.

“Um, no—” you tried again.

“Sister?” he interrupted, his eyes scanning you with obvious interest.

Before you could speak again, a deep, familiar voice cut through the conversation, “She’s my girlfriend.”

Ushijima’s imposing presence seemed to cast a shadow over the new player as he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch light yet protective. You felt a slightly sweaty chest lightly press against your back, sending a shiver up your spine. His olive eyes, usually calm and composed, held a steely intensity as he assessed the situation.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” Ushijima asked, his voice steady but carrying an underlying edge.

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and warmth at his presence. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

The new player, clearly taken aback, tried to recover his composure. “I didn’t know, man. Just thought she was lost or something.”

Ushijima’s gaze didn’t waver, and his grip on your shoulder tightened ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “She’s here to support me, as always. I’d appreciate it if you respected that.”

The new player nodded, mumbling a quick apology before retreating to the court. As he walked away, you could feel the tension slowly dissipate from Ushijima’s body, but his eyes remained on the player for a moment longer, his gaze eyeing him like a hawk. Ushijima never shows his emotions normally, but seeing you flustered and a bit uncomfortable by someone else had his jaw set tighter than usual.

Turning back to you, Ushijima’s expression turned non-rigid once more. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” The lines of tension in his face smoothed once he met your gaze.

You smiled up at him, the warmth of your hand over his on your shoulder conveying a silent understanding. You plant a light peck on his hand, a gentle affirmation of your gratitude. “It’s okay, Toshi," you whispered softly, your voice carrying a soothing tone. "You should go back to practice."

He nodded, his lips curling into a rare, small smile. “Just let me know if anyone bothers you.”

You leaned into him, feeling the solid reassurance of his presence. “I will. Thank you.”

As the practice continued, he kept a close eye on the new player, making sure there were no further incidents.

𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼

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peavhyshy · 2 months ago

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⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - AFRAID

ᯓᡣ𐭩 paring ─ ୨୧ ─ dark!boyfriend!rafe cameron ⋆ reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ─ ୨୧ ─ in which Rafe hatches a plan to ensure you stay by his side, by making you dependent on him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings ─ ୨୧ ─ explicit language noncon/dubcon, smut, rafe drugs reader, substance abuse, toxic relationship, emotional abuse, baby trapping/forced pregnancy, possessiveness, controlling behaviors, threats of violence, loss of virginity, corruption, breeding kink, dirty talk (like a lot), abandonment issues, manipulation, rough sex, hairpulling, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, powerplay, choking, semi public sex, car sex, creampie (please dni if your sensitive to these topics your mental health should come first)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc ─ ୨୧ ─ 8,960

⋆˚✿˖° a/n ─ ୨୧ ─ is there a plot not really, it may seem long but 80% of this is smut. this is unrelated but i think his season 1 & 2 rafe hair were elite to me but I just hate buzz cuts on everyone so my opinion doesn't matter here. The ‘Lila’ is now edited I use it as a placeholder (because for some reason I hate putting y/n while writing) before I replace it with y/n but of course my dumbass forgot to do that when I published this.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔.:･Afraid･:.ೃ࿔.⋆❀°

(༝༚༝༚ lana del rey)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Outer Banks Masterlist ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Navigation ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Rafe sits across from you at your usual table in the country club, his jaw clenching rhythmically as he watches you flip through the college applications. His fingers drum against the polished wooden table, creating a nervous pattern that matches his increasing anxiety. The sight of all those prestigious university names makes his stomach turn - Harvard, Yale, Princeton - each one threatening to take you further away from Outer Banks, from him. He barely touches his plate of steak, too preoccupied with the growing unease in his chest.

"Why the fuck are you even looking at schools that far?" He snaps suddenly, his voice carrying a sharp edge as he reaches across to snatch one of your fries, popping it into his mouth with more force than necessary. His blue eyes darken with barely contained irritation, especially when he catches Topper's wave from across the room. He returns it with a curt nod, his attention immediately returning to you. "You know there's perfectly good schools right here in North Carolina. UNC's got a decent program."

You glance up from your binder, your eyes meeting Rafe's intense blue ones. You set down your fork carefully on your half-eaten Caesar salad, a soft sigh escaping your lips. The sunlight streaming through the country club's windows catches on your hair, creating a halo effect around your skin. "Baby, we've talked about this," you say gently, "These schools have amazing programs for what I want to study. And it's not like I'm making any decisions yet - I'm just looking at options."

The afternoon sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows catches on his rings as he reaches up to run a hand through his disheveled hair, a telltale sign of his growing agitation. The country club bustles around them with the usual crowd of Kooks - women in tennis whites gossiping over martinis, men in polo shirts discussing their latest yacht purchases. But Rafe's focus remains fixed on those damned college applications, his jaw working overtime as he grinds his teeth.

The cocaine from earlier isn't helping his paranoia, making his thoughts race faster than he can process them. The idea of you leaving, of losing control over this one good thing in his life, sends a fresh wave of anxiety through his system. His free hand unconsciously reaches up to rub at his chest, a nervous tick he's developed. The country club suddenly feels too small, too confined, and he can feel his breathing getting slightly erratic. "Just... just put those away for now," he demands, trying to maintain his composure despite the rising panic in his chest. "We're supposed to be having lunch, not planning your fucking escape route."

You reach across the table with your free hand, your fingers brushing against his chest where he's rubbing anxiously. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something sharper - probably remnants of whatever he'd been doing before lunch - fills your nostrils as you lean closer. "Rafe, you're spiraling again," you observe quietly, mindful of the other diners around them. Your eyes flick briefly to Topper and his mother as they pass, offering a polite smile before returning your attention to your increasingly agitated boyfriend. "And you know that's not fair. I'm not trying to escape anything, especially not you."

"Besides," he continues, his tone taking on that manipulative edge he's so good at, "You really want to leave all this behind? The island, the parties, me?" He leans forward, lowering his voice to that dangerous whisper he uses when he's trying to get his way. "You know I can't follow you out there. I've got responsibilities here, the family business..." His hand shoots out to grab your wrist, not painfully, but firmly enough to make his point. "And what about us? You're going to throw away what we have for some fancy degree you could get right here?"

The weight of his intense stare makes you shift in your seat, your sundress rustling against the plush cushions. You can see the telltale signs of his growing panic - the clenched jaw, the rapid breathing, the way his fingers keep twitching against the table. Part of you wants to close the binder, to give in like you usually do when he gets like this. But another part, the part that's been dreaming about life beyond the island since you were little, keeps your hand steady on the applications. "What about a compromise?" you suggest, your voice taking on that soothing tone you learned to use when he's on edge. "What if I apply to both - some schools here in North Carolina and some out of state? That way we have options to discuss later?"

Your free hand moves from his chest to his face, your thumb gently stroking along his clenched jaw. You can feel the tension there, the way he's grinding his teeth. The chatter of the country club fades into background noise as you focus solely on him, knowing how quickly his mood can shift when he feels cornered. "And hey," you add, your voice dropping to a whisper as you lean even closer, your lips quirking into a small smile, "No matter where I end up going, you know you're the only one I want, right? These other Kook boys could never compare to my Rafe Cameron."

The familiar weight of the promise ring he gave you three months ago sits heavy on your finger, catching the light as you move. You learned over your time together that sometimes Rafe needs this - needs to be reminded that he's your choice, that you're his. Even if the possessiveness sometimes scares you, even if his mood swings leave you walking on eggshells, you can't deny the way your heart still races when he looks at you like he is now - like you're something precious he's terrified of losing. "Can we at least look through them together? You might see something you like too."

Rafe lets go of your wrist his hand shooting out to slam your binder shut with enough force to make nearby diners jump. "Don't fucking patronize me," he growls, his voice low and threatening despite their public setting. The gentle stroke of your thumb against his jaw only heightens his agitation, like a match to gasoline. "You think I don't see what this is?" He leans forward, invading your space across the table, his blue eyes wild with a mixture of possessiveness and barely contained rage. "First it's just 'looking at options,' then suddenly you're gone, probably fucking some ivy league asshole who doesn't know you like I do." His breathing becomes more erratic, the hand on his chest pressing harder as anxiety mingles with his growing anger. The familiar scent of your perfume - usually calming - now seems to mock him with its potential absence.

"You're trying to leave me, just like everyone else. Just like my mom, just like Sarah..." His voice cracks slightly on his sister's name before hardening again. "Well, I won't fucking let you."

You tense at the sudden shift in Rafe's demeanor, your heart rate picking up as you watch him slam your binder shut. The warmth drains from your eyes, replaced by a flicker of fear you try desperately to hide. Your skin prickles with goosebumps as he invades your space, his paranoia rolling off him in waves. You’ve seen him like this before, but never quite this intense, never quite this threatening in such a public place.

"Rafe, please," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly as you glance around at the other diners who are now openly staring at them. Your sundress suddenly feels too thin, too exposed under his wild-eyed gaze. You can smell the mixture of his cologne and sweat, and see the way his pupils are dilated - clear signs he's high again. "You're making a scene. Can we please just discuss this somewhere private?"

A laugh escapes his throat at your suggestion of talking, the sound drawing more concerned glances from nearby tables. "Discuss? There's nothing to fucking discuss." His voice takes on that manipulative tone he knows works so well, mixing threat with vulnerability. "You belong here, with me. Do you think any of those places are gonna love you like I do? Understand you like I do?" His eyes flick to the promise ring on your finger, a visible reminder of his claim on you. "Or maybe that's what you want - to get away from the crazy boyfriend, right? Is that what this is about?"

The cocaine-fueled paranoia reaches a crescendo as he suddenly stands, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He towers over you, his presence intimidating despite the public setting. "You're not going anywhere," he declares, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he leans down close to your ear. "And if you try, I'll make sure every single one of those fancy schools loses your application. Don't test me, baby." His lips brush against your ear as he speaks, a twisted mixture of threat and affection that's purely him. "Now get your shit. We're leaving." His hand moves to grip your upper arm, ready to pull you up from your chair, his entire body vibrating with barely contained violence and possessive need.

The promise ring feels like it's burning on your finger as tears start to well up in your eyes. "I'm not trying to leave you," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. I'm not trying to leave you, I love you, Rafe. You know I do. But you're hurting me right now." You can feel your body starting to shake, whether from fear or adrenaline, you're not sure anymore.

You let him pull you to your feet, knowing resistance will only make things worse. Your college applications lay forgotten on the table as you stumble slightly, your legs weak from the sudden movement. "Okay," you concede, your voice small and defeated. "Okay, we can go. Just... please calm down. Please." Your free hand comes up to rest on his chest again, feeling his racing heartbeat under your palm. "Let's go to your family's place and talk about this properly. Just you and me, baby. Like we always do."

Rafe feels you trembling beneath his grip, and something in your tear-filled eyes pierces through his cocaine-addled rage. His breathing is still erratic, but the feel of your hand against his racing heart starts to ground him. The familiar scent of your perfume begins to cut through the paranoid haze, reminding him of lazy mornings in his bed, of your soft sighs against his neck. His grip on your arm loosens slightly, though he doesn't let go completely.

"Fuck," he mutters, running his free hand through his disheveled hair as reality starts seeping back in. The stares of the other country club patrons finally register, and he can feel his father's disapproval even in his absence. His jaw clenches and unclenches as he struggles to regain control. "Yeah... yeah, okay. Let's go home." His voice is still rough, but the dangerous edge has dulled somewhat. He reaches past you to grab your binder, shoving it under his arm - he's not leaving it here for you to come back to later.

The walk to his truck is tense, his hand moving from your arm to the small of your back - still possessive, but less aggressive. The cocaine is making him jittery, his thoughts racing between paranoia and guilt. Once you're inside his truck, he slams his palms against the steering wheel, making you jump. "I just..." he starts, his voice cracking slightly. "I can't lose you too, baby. I can't." His blue eyes, when they meet yours, are still wild but now tinged with desperation rather than rage. "Everyone leaves. Everyone always fucking leaves."

He reaches across the center console to pull you closer, burying his face in your neck. His breathing is still uneven, but slower now as he inhales your scent. "Stay," he whispers against your skin, his voice taking on that vulnerable quality that only you get to hear. "Just... stay with me. Please." His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the soft skin there. It's the closest thing to an apology you’re likely to get from him, this moment of raw vulnerability between the storms of his temper.

Rafe paces anxiously across Topper's home gym, his footsteps echoing against the polished hardwood floors as sweat drips down his bare chest from their workout session. The late afternoon sun streams through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the expensive exercise equipment. His muscles are tense not just from lifting weights, but from the constant anxiety gnawing at his insides about your potential departure. The cocaine from earlier is still coursing through his system, making his thoughts race faster than he can process them.

"I'm telling you guys, she's fucking leaving me," he complains, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair as he continues his relentless pacing. The familiar panic starts rising in his chest again, making him rub at it absently. "All these fucking college applications... Harvard, Yale, Princeton. She's planning her escape and I can't... I can't fucking let that happen." His blue eyes are wild as they dart between Kelce and Topper, sprawled across the leather bench press seats, watching their friend's mounting distress.

Kelce exchanges a knowing look with Topper before speaking up, his voice careful as he watches Rafe's increasingly agitated movements. "Man, you need to chill. Maybe if you weren't so fucking intense about it-" Rafe's sharp laugh cuts him off, the sound bouncing off the mirrored walls. "Intense? You think I'm being intense?" Rafe's voice rises as he spins to face them, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "My girl's trying to leave the fucking state, and you're telling me to chill?"

"Well," Topper drawls, wiping his face with a monogrammed towel, "you could always do what my cousin did when his girlfriend tried to leave for college." He pauses for dramatic effect, a smirk playing on his lips. "Got her knocked up. Can't exactly go to Yale with a baby on the way, can you?" He's clearly joking, but something in Rafe's expression shifts, his eyes taking on that dangerous gleam that appears when he's formulating a plan.

"That's..." Rafe stops pacing, his mind racing with possibilities. His jaw clenches rhythmically as he processes the idea. "That's fucking perfect." He starts pacing again, but this time with purpose, his movements predatory rather than anxious. "She'd have to stay. She'd be tied to me forever." His voice takes on that obsessive quality that appears when he's fixating on something. "No more fucking college applications, no more threats of leaving. She'd be mine, completely mine."

"Dude," Kelce sits up straighter, realizing Rafe's actually considering it. "I don't think that's what Topper meant-" But Rafe's already lost in his world, his cocaine-fueled paranoia latching onto this new solution like a lifeline. "She's still a virgin too," he continues, more to himself than his friends, his rings catching the light as he gestures animatedly. "Waiting for the 'right moment' or some shit. Well, guess that moment's coming sooner than she thought."

"No, no, this could work," Rafe continues, his voice taking on that edge that suggests he's spiraling into one of his episodes. "Her parents are traditional as fuck, they'd make her keep it. And Ward's always going on about wanting grandkids to carry on the Cameron name..." He's fully pacing now, his movements jerky and aggressive as the plan solidifies in his mind. "She's been hinting about wanting to do it soon anyway. Valentine's Day is coming up..."

The gym falls silent except for the sound of Rafe's footsteps and heavy breathing. Neither Kelce nor Topper dare speak, knowing from experience that trying to talk Rafe down when he's like this - especially when he's high - is pointless and potentially dangerous. They watch as their friend works himself into a frenzy, plotting the permanent capture of his girlfriend with the same intense focus he applies to everything he wants to possess.

"It's perfect," Rafe finally declares, stopping his pacing to face his friends. His chest heaves with excited breaths, sweat making his skin shine in the fading sunlight. "She'll never leave me then. She'll have to stay here, raise our kid, be the perfect fucking family."

The thought of you, permanently his, unable to leave him, sends a rush of possessive pleasure through his system. "You guys didn't hear any of this," he suddenly stops, fixing both Kelce and Topper with a threatening stare. "Not a fucking word to anyone, got it?" His voice carries that dangerous edge that reminds them why people are scared of him, why even other Kooks think twice before crossing him.

"Jesus Christ, Rafe," Topper mutters, running a hand through his hair as he watches his friend's descent into this new obsession. "This is fucked up, even for you." But he knows that look in Rafe's eyes. Once Rafe sets his mind to something, especially when he's high, there's no talking him out of it. The gym feels smaller suddenly, charged with the energy of Rafe's newfound determination.

Rafe stands at the door of the l/n estate, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure in his tailored black suit. His blue eyes are slightly dilated from the line of cocaine he did in his truck to calm his nerves, but he's made sure to eye drop and cologne himself thoroughly. The velvet box containing the surprise he has planned for later weighs heavy in his pocket as he shifts anxiously, his rings catching the light as he reaches up to adjust his tie.

When Paul opens the door, Rafe immediately straightens his posture, forcing his most charming smile - the one he uses when he needs to impress. "Good evening, Mr. L/N," he greets, his voice steady despite the cocaine making his heart race. The older man's scrutinizing gaze reminds him uncomfortably of his own father's disapproving stares. The foyer behind Paul gleams with old money - crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and family portraits that speak of generations of Kook legacy.

"Rafe," Paul acknowledges with a slight nod, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the young man's appearance. There's something about Ward Cameron's son that has always set him on edge, though he can't quite put his finger on what. Maybe it's the occasional wild look in his eyes or the way his daughter seems to walk on eggshells around him sometimes. "Y/N is still getting ready. Come in." He steps aside, allowing Rafe into the pristine foyer.

The sound of Rafe's expensive dress shoes echoes against the marble as he enters, his hands sliding into his pockets to hide their slight tremor - partly from the drugs, partly from anticipation of what he has planned for tonight. The house smells of old money and fresh flowers, much like his own family's estate, but somehow more sterile, fitting for a plastic surgeon's home. His fingers brush against the small packet of powder in his pocket, next to the ring box - just enough to keep him steady through dinner.

"I trust you'll have her home at a reasonable hour," Paul's voice cuts through Rafe's thoughts, making him turn to face the older man. "Of course, sir," Rafe responds, that practiced smile still in place even as his jaw clenches slightly. "We just have reservations at Le Rivage, then maybe a walk on the beach." What he doesn't mention is the rest of his plans for the evening - the champagne waiting in his truck, the blankets he's laid out at his secret spot on the beach, the pills dissolved in one of the champagne glasses that will make sure everything goes according to plan.

The sound of heels on marble draws both men's attention to the grand staircase, and Rafe's breath catches in his throat. You descend like something out of a dream, your skin glowing against the deep red of your dress making his hands itch with the need to touch you. His blue eyes darken as they track your movement, his mind already racing ahead to later in the evening, to all the ways he plans to claim you completely.

"You look fucking perfect," he breathes out when you reach the bottom of the stairs, catching himself too late to censor his language in front of your father. But he can't help it - the cocaine making him more impulsive than usual, and the sight of you making his blood run hot. He steps forward to meet you, one hand reaching out to brush against your waist, proprietary and possessive even under your father's watchful gaze. The scent of your perfume mingles with the lingering chemical taste in the back of his throat, making him dizzy with want and anticipation.

Tonight's the night, he thinks, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as Paul insists on taking pictures. Tonight you become his completely, permanently. No more college applications, no more threats of leaving. The thought makes him pull you closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Ready for your Valentine's surprise, baby?" His voice carries that dangerous edge that anyone else would recognize as a warning, but he knows his sweet, innocent Y/N won't catch it. Not until it's too late.

Rafe helps you into his truck, his hand lingering possessively on your lower back as you climb in. The interior smells of expensive leather and his cologne, mixed with something chemical that makes you wrinkle your nose slightly. He slides into the driver's seat, his movements are precise despite the cocaine coursing through his system. The engine purrs to life, and he immediately reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers as he pulls away from your family's estate.

"You really do look fucking incredible tonight," he murmurs, his blue eyes flickering between you and the road. His thumb traces circles on your palm, a gesture that would seem sweet if not for the slight tremor in his hand. "That dress is driving me crazy." His rings catch the streetlights as you drive through Figure 8, passing other massive estates and perfectly manicured lawns.

"Thank you, baby," You respond softly, your free hand smoothing down the red fabric of your dress. "You clean up pretty nice yourself." You glance at him, admiring how the streetlights cast shadows across his sharp jawline. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going for dinner? You've been so secretive about tonight."

Rafe's grip on your hand tightens almost imperceptibly. "It's a surprise, remember?" His voice carries that edge of control he can never quite hide. "But first..." He reaches behind your seat with his free hand, pulling out a small gift bag. "I got you something to wear at dinner." Inside is a delicate diamond necklace, the stones catching the light like tiny stars.

"Oh, Rafe," You breathe, reaching for the necklace. "It's beautiful. You didn't have to-" You are cut off by his laugh, that sharp sound that always makes your stomach flip. "Of course I did. Only the best for my girl." He pulls into a secluded spot overlooking the water, putting the truck in park. "Here, let me put it on you."

His hands are slightly unsteady as he fastens the necklace around your throat, his breath hot against your neck. "Perfect," he whispers, his fingers trailing down your spine. "Just like you'll be after tonight." There's something in his voice that makes you shiver, though you can't quite place why. "What do you mean?" you ask, turning to face him.

Rafe's eyes are darker now, pupils blown wide as he stares at you. "Just that I've got big plans for us, baby." His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "Tonight's gonna change everything." He leans in closer, his other hand sliding up your thigh, pushing the fabric of your dress higher. "You trust me, right?"

"Of course I do," You whisper, even as something in your gut tells you something's off. You can feel his heart racing where your bodies are pressed together and you can smell something sharp and chemical on his breath beneath the mint. "Rafe, are you okay? You seem...different tonight."

"Never better," he responds, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Just excited to give you all your surprises." His hand moves higher up your thigh, possessive and demanding. "Now, how about we have a little drink before dinner? To celebrate Valentine's Day?" He reaches behind the seat again, pulling out an expensive bottle of champagne and two glasses.

Rafe pours the champagne with calculated precision, his hands steadier now as he hands you your specially prepared glass. The moonlight filtering through the truck's windows catches the diamond necklace at your throat, reminding him of how perfectly it marks you as his. His blue eyes track your every movement as you accept the glass, noting how the red fabric of your dress has ridden up slightly from your position.

"To us," he proposes, raising his glass with that dangerous smile playing at his lips. The cocaine makes everything feel more intense - the way your perfume fills the confined space of his truck, the soft sound of your breathing, the sight of your lips touching the rim of the glass. He watches intently as you take a sip, something predatory flickering in his eyes. "And to all the surprises tonight has in store."

"Mmm, this is really good," You comment, taking another sip. You don’t notice how Rafe barely touches his glass, too focused on watching your drink. "But shouldn't we head to dinner? We don't want to lose our reservation." You move to check the time on your phone, but Rafe's hand shoots out to stop you, his fingers wrapping around your wrist with practiced possessiveness.

"We've got time," he assures you, his voice dropping lower as he leans closer. His free hand comes up to trace the line of the necklace, fingers ghosting over your collarbone. "Besides, I want to enjoy this moment. Just you and me." He can feel your pulse racing under his fingers where they press against your wrist. "Finish your drink, baby. Then we can talk about dinner."

He watches as you obediently take another sip, then another. "You know what I love about you, Y/N?" His voice is rough now, heavy with want and something darker. "How fucking perfect you are. How innocent." His fingers trace patterns on your inner thigh, making you shiver. "How you trust me completely."

"Rafe," you breathe, and he notices your words are slightly slurred now. Your eyes are starting to look unfocused as you blink slowly at him. "I feel... strange." The champagne glass slips from your fingers, but he catches it smoothly, setting it aside. His heart is racing with a mixture of cocaine-fueled excitement and dark anticipation.

"Shh, baby," he soothes, pulling you closer as you start to sway slightly. "I've got you. Always got you." His lips brush against your neck, just above the diamond necklace. "And after tonight, you'll always be mine. No more college applications, no more threats of leaving." His voice takes on that possessive edge that would normally frighten you, but the drugs in your system are making everything feel distant and hazy.

"What did you..." you try to ask, your head falling back against the seat as your limbs grow heavy. Rafe's hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek as he watches the drugs take effect. The moonlight casts shadows across his face, making his expression look almost demonic as he smiles down at you.

"Just making sure tonight goes exactly as planned," he whispers, his other hand already reaching for the blankets he has stashed behind the seats. "Don't fight it, baby. Just let go. Let me take care of everything." His lips crash against yours, swallowing any protest you might have made as the drugs pull you deeper under their influence.

Rafe watches with dark satisfaction as your movements become increasingly sluggish, your normally bright eyes growing heavy-lidded and unfocused. He shifts in his seat, reaching to recline both of your seats back to create more space in the truck's cabin. The moonlight streaming through the windows casts ethereal shadows across your skin as he positions your body how he wants.

"Rafe..." you mumble, your voice thick and confused as he spreads the blankets beneath you. "What's happening? I feel so..." Your word trails off as he captures your lips in another possessive kiss, his hands already working at the zipper of your red dress.

"Just relax, baby," he whispers against your mouth, cocaine making his movements more aggressive than usual. "Let me take care of you." His fingers trace the newly exposed skin of your back, savoring how you shiver under his touch despite your drugged state. "You look so fucking perfect like this. So helpless. So mine."

Rafe's hands slide possessively over your body as he peels the red dress from your drugged form, revealing the black underwear underneath. His blue eyes darken with predatory hunger as he drinks in the sight of you laid out beneath him in his truck, the diamond necklace glinting at your throat like a collar. The softness of your skin, the way your chest rises and falls with each shallow breath, the little whimpers that escape your lips as you try to fight through the fog in your mind.

"Shh, baby," he soothes, his voice rough with desire as his hands roam over your exposed flesh. "Just let it happen. You know you want this." His fingers trace the edge of your lacy bra, teasing your hardened nipples through the delicate fabric. "Been waiting so fucking long for this moment. To make you completely mine."

"Rafe, please," You slurred, weakly trying to push at his chest. "Something's wrong... I can't..." Your protests are cut off by his mouth crashing against yours, his tongue forcing its way past your lips as his hand slides between your thighs. He groans when he feels how wet you are through your panties, his cock straining against his suit pants.

"Look how ready you are for me," he rubs circles against your clit through the lace. "Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind's trying to fight it." He pulls back to admire his handiwork - your lips swollen from his kisses, your pupils blown wide from the drugs, your chest heaving as you struggle to focus. "Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Gonna put my baby in you tonight."

Rafe’s fingers hook into your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs as you weakly try to squeeze your thighs together. The moonlight catches on the wetness between your legs, making him groan. "Fuck, look at that pretty pussy," he breathes, his fingers spreading you open. "All perfect and untouched. Not for long though."

Rafe's fingers work methodically between your thighs, spreading your wetness as he watches your face contort with unwilling pleasure. His other hand pins your wrists above your head, his rings cold against your feverish skin. The truck's windows are starting to fog up from your heavy breathing, creating a private cocoon around you.

"That's it, baby," he growls, sliding two fingers into you, feeling how tight you are around them. "Gonna stretch you out nice and slow before I fuck a baby into you." His cock throbs painfully in his pants as he watches you arch beneath him, the drugs making you more responsive even as you try to resist.

"No... Rafe... please," You whimper, your head thrashing weakly against the leather seat. But your body betrays you, hips rocking against his skilled fingers as he finds that spot inside you that makes you see stars. The diamond necklace glints at your throat as you gasp, reminding him of his ownership.

"Look at you, taking my fingers so well," he praises darkly, adding a third finger to stretch you further. "Can't wait to feel this tight little cunt around my cock." His thumb finds your clit, rubbing circles that make your whole body tremble. "Gonna fill you up so good, baby. Make sure my cum stays deep inside you until it takes."

The way your walls clench around his fingers, the little sounds you make as he works your body, the perfect arch of your back as you fight between pleasure and resistance. He leans down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, biting down just hard enough to make you cry out.

"Please," you beg, though whether you're begging him to stop or continue, even you don’t know anymore. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing from his touch as the drugs make everything feel more intense. "Rafe... I can't..."

"Yes, you can," he demands, curling his fingers inside you as his thumb speeds up on your clit. "Come on my fingers like a good girl. Show me how much you want my cock." His blue eyes are wild with possession as he watches you fall apart beneath him, knowing that after tonight, you’ll never be able to leave him.

Rafe’s fingers work relentlessly between your thighs. His free hand moves from your wrists to grip your throat, right above the diamond necklace, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Let me feel that tight little pussy squeeze my fingers."

Your body betrays you even as your mind tries to resist, waves of unwilling pleasure building under his skilled touch. The drugs make everything feel heightened - the stretch of his fingers inside you, the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the heat of his breath against your neck. Your legs start to tremble as you approach your peak.

"That's it, baby," He watches your face contort with pleasure and confusion. His cock strains painfully against his suit pants, demanding attention. But he forces himself to wait, to savor this moment of taking your innocence piece by piece. "Give it to me. Show me how good I make you feel."

The sound of your heavy breathing fills the truck's cabin, mixing with the wet sounds of his fingers working between your legs. Rafe's eyes are dark with possession as he watches you fight against the inevitable, knowing that each moment brings him closer to his ultimate goal. The moonlight catches on the sweat beading on your skin, making you glow ethereally.

"I... I can't..." You whimper, your back arching off the seat as pleasure builds to an unbearable level. The drugs make everything feel like too much and not enough all at once. "Rafe, please..." Your fingers clutch desperately at his shoulders. "You can, and you will," he commands, his voice taking on that dangerous edge that brooks no argument. His fingers curl inside you, finding that spot that makes you see stars while his thumb circles your clit with practiced precision. "Come for me now. Let me feel it."

Rafe watches with dark satisfaction as your body trembles beneath him, your back arching off the leather seat as pleasure builds. His fingers work relentlessly inside your pussy, stretching and preparing you for what's to come. The way your walls clench around his digits, the little gasps and moans you can't hold back, the perfect arch of your spine as you fight between resistance and ecstasy.

"That's my good girl," his free hand moving from your throat to grip your hair, forcing you to look at him. "Watch me while you come. Want to see those pretty eyes when I make you fall apart." His thumb continues its relentless assault on your clit as his fingers curl inside you, hitting that spot that makes your whole body shake.

Your eyes flutter open, glazed with drugs and unwilling pleasure. The moonlight catches the tears gathering in your lashes as you stare up at him, unable to look away from his intense blue gaze. Your lips part in a silent scream as the pressure builds to an unbearable level, your body tightening around his fingers.

"Please," Her hands clutch desperately at his shoulders, leaving crescent marks through his expensive shirt. "Rafe, I can't... it's too much..."

"Yes, you can," he demands, his voice rough with desire and dominance. "Come for me now, baby. Show me how good I make you feel." His fingers speed up inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the truck's cabin. "Let go. Let me see you fall apart before I fuck you properly."

The combination of his skilled fingers, the drugs in your system, and his commanding voice finally pushes you over the edge. Your whole body goes rigid as pleasure crashes through you, walls clenching rhythmically around his fingers as you come with a broken cry of his name.

"Beautiful," he breathes, working you through the aftershocks as you tremble beneath him. "But we're not done yet, baby. Not even close." His free hand moves to his belt, the sound of the buckle loud in the confined space. "Now it's time for the main event. Time to make you completely mine."

Rafe takes his time unbuckling his belt, the metallic sound echoing in the confined space of his truck. His blue eyes never leave your face as he watches you come down from your high, your body still trembling with aftershocks. Your chest heaves with each breath, the glisten of sweat on your skin, the slight quiver of your thighs as they remain spread for him.

"Look at you," he grunts, finally freeing his throbbing cock from his pants. "All fucked out from just my fingers, and we haven't even gotten to the best part yet." His hand wraps around his length, stroking slowly as he positions himself between your legs. The head of his cock brushes against your sensitive folds, making you whimper. "Been waiting so fucking long for this moment."

"Rafe," You slur, your drugged mind struggling to focus as you feel his size pressing against your entrance. "Wait... I'm not ready..." Your weak protests only serve to fuel his desire, his grip tightening on your hip as he holds you in place. The diamond necklace at your throat catches the moonlight as you try to shift away.

"You're more than ready, baby," he counters, using his free hand to spread your wetness along his length. "Your body's begging for it. Been begging for it all night." He leans down, capturing your lips in a possessive kiss as he starts to push inside your entrance. The stretch is intense, making you gasp against his mouth. "Gonna make you take every fucking inch."

His cock inches forward slowly, savoring the way your walls resist his invasion. The truck's windows are completely fogged now, creating a private world for just the two of you. Rafe's breathing grows heavier as he feels your tight heat enveloping him, his control starting to slip. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his fingers digging into your hip hard enough to leave bruises. "Taking my cock so well, just like I knew you would."

Tears stream down your cheeks as he stretches you open, the mixture of pain and drugged pleasure making your head spin. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into the expensive fabric of his suit jacket. "Almost there, baby," he pants against your neck, his hips still pushing forward relentlessly. "Just a little more and you'll have all of me." His free hand slides between them to rub your clit, knowing the added stimulation will help your body accept him. "Gonna fill this tight little pussy up with my cum, make sure it takes. Make sure you can never leave me."

Rafe's hips finally meet yours as he bottoms out inside you, a groan of satisfaction rumbling deep in his chest. Your walls flutter around his length as you adjust to being completely filled for the first time. The truck's cabin is thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the leather seats creaking beneath them with each subtle movement.

"There we go," he pants against your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. His hands grip your hips possessively as he holds himself still, savoring the moment. "Been dreaming about this for so fucking long, baby. About claiming you completely." You whimper beneath him, your mind is hazy from the drugs as your body struggles to accommodate his size. Tears continue to stream down your cheeks, your fingers clutch weakly at his shoulders as you feel him throb inside you.

"Please," you manage to gasp, though your drugged state makes it hard to form coherent thoughts. "It's too much... I can't..." Your protests are cut off by his mouth capturing yours in a demanding kiss, his tongue invading your mouth just as his cock has invaded your body.

"Yes, you can," his hips starting to move in shallow thrusts. "And you will. Gonna fuck a baby into you tonight, make sure you can never leave me." His movements gradually become deeper, and more purposeful, as he establishes a rhythm. "Watch me while I do it. Want to see those pretty eyes when I breed you." One hand slides from your hip to grip your jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact as he fucks into you. "That's it," he praises darkly as your body starts to respond despite your protests. "Take it like a good girl. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my cock."

Rafe's movements become more intense, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force as he chases his release. The truck rocks with your movements, his hands grip your hips bruisingly tight as he pounds into you, watching with dark satisfaction as pleasure and pain war across your drugged features.

"Fuck, you feel perfect," he groans, one hand sliding up to wrap around your throat just above the diamond necklace. "So fucking tight around my cock. Like you were made for this." His thumb traces your bottom lip as he continues his relentless pace. "Made to take my cum, to carry my baby."

Your head thrashes weakly against the leather seat, your body overwhelmed by the mix of drugs and unwilling pleasure. Your walls clench around him involuntarily as another orgasm builds, making him grunt with satisfaction. "That's it, baby," he praises darkly. "Squeeze my cock just like that. Show me how much your body wants this." His free hand moves between them to rub your clit, determined to make you come around his cock. "Gonna fill you up so good," he pants, his rhythm becoming more erratic as he nears his release. "Gonna pump you full of my cum until it takes. Make sure everyone knows you belong to me." His fingers speed up on your clit as he feels your walls starting to flutter. "Come for me now, baby. Let me feel that tight little pussy milk my cock."

Rafe's grip tightens on your hips as he feels his release building, his thrusts becoming more desperate and erratic. "That's it, baby," feeling your walls clench around him as another orgasm builds in your drugged body. "Come on my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you want my cum." Your back arches off the seat as pleasure crashes through you against your will, your walls squeezing his length rhythmically. The sight of you coming undone beneath him finally pushes Rafe over the edge. With a guttural groan, he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he empties himself into your pussy. "Fuck," he pants against your neck, grinding his hips to ensure his cum stays deep inside. "All mine now."

He collapses on top of you for a moment, both of you catching your breath in the steamy confines of his truck. The diamond necklace glints at your throat as he finally pulls out, watching with dark satisfaction as his release drips from your used pussy. "No more college applications, no more threats of leaving. You're stuck with me now, baby." Without a word, he starts fixing his clothes, already planning your next encounter in his mind.

"Let's get you home, baby," he says, his voice rough as he helps you dress on shaky legs. "Don't want your daddy getting suspicious." His hand rests possessively on your thigh as he starts the truck, knowing that after tonight, everything has changed. The drive back is silent except for your occasional whimpers, the drugs still making your head fuzzy as she processes what just happened.

A week later,

Rafe lounges against his truck at the Boneyard, The beach is relatively empty at this hour, just a few surfers catching the last waves of the day. His blue eyes track your movement, noting how pale you look, and how your usual confident stride seems shakier. A smirk plays at his lips, though he keeps his expression carefully neutral.

"Hey baby," he calls out, pushing off the truck to meet you. His hands immediately find your waist, pulling you close as he studies your face. "You sounded weird on the phone. Everything okay?" The concern in his voice is perfectly crafted, masking the satisfaction he feels as he takes in your distressed state.

Your hands tremble as you pull away from his embrace, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively. "Rafe, I... I need to tell you something." Your voice cracks slightly as you speak, tears already gathering in your eyes. "I went to the doctor today..."

"What's wrong?" Rafe steps closer, his hand coming up to cup your face with practiced gentleness. Inside, his heart races with anticipation, but his expression remains one of innocent concern. "You've been sick all week. Did they figure out what's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant," you whisper, the words carried away by the ocean breeze. Your eyes search his face desperately for any sign of recognition, any hint that he remembers your Valentine's night. "But I don't... I can't remember... The last thing I clearly remember is having champagne in your truck..."

Rafe's eyes widen in perfectly feigned shock, his hand dropping from your face as he takes a step back. "You're... what?" He runs a hand through his hair, the picture of a young man receiving unexpected news. "But we've never... I mean, I thought you wanted to wait?" His voice carries just the right amount of confusion and disbelief.

"That's just it," Your voice rises slightly, panic evident in your tone. "I don't remember! Valentine's Day is just... fuzzy. But the doctor said I'm about a week along, and you're the only one I've been with..." you trail off, tears now flowing freely down your cheeks.

Rafe pulls you into his arms, hiding his triumphant smile in your hair. "Shh, it's okay," he soothes, one hand moving to rest possessively over your still-flat stomach. "We'll figure this out together. I'm here for you, baby. Always." His voice drops lower, taking on that dangerous edge you're too distraught to notice. "Guess those college applications won't be necessary anymore, huh?"

His hand tightens possessively around your waist as you tremble against him, his other hand still resting on your stomach where his child is growing. The setting sun casts long shadows across the beach, the sound of waves providing a backdrop to your quiet sobs. His blue eyes gleam with dark satisfaction as he feels you collapse further into his embrace, exactly where he wants you.

"What am I going to tell my parents?" You whisper against his chest, your voice breaking. "My dad... he's going to kill me. And all my college plans..." You pull back slightly to look up at him, mascara running down your cheeks. "Rafe, I can't remember anything from that night. How did this happen?"

Rafe's jaw clenches as he maintains his facade of confusion and concern. "Hey, look at me," he demands softly, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "Your parents love you. And my family... well, Ward's always talking about wanting grandkids." His thumb wipes away your tears as he studies your face. "Maybe this is a good thing, you know? You and me, starting our own family."

"But I had plans," you protest weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt. "Harvard, Yale... I was supposed to get out of Outer Banks..." You don’t even notice how his grip tightens painfully at your words or the flash of possessive anger in his eyes.

"Fuck those plans," he growls, before quickly softening his tone. "I mean, things change, right? Sometimes for the better." His hand slides up to cup your face, forcing you to maintain eye contact. "You've got me now. Got us. Isn't that better than some fancy college where you don't know anyone?" He’s super hyper-focused on every detail - the way you unconsciously lean into his touch, how your body fits perfectly against his, the slight swell of your breasts that's already becoming noticeable. His other hand remains possessively on your stomach, imagining how it will grow with his child.

"I'm scared," You admit, your voice small against the sound of crashing waves. "Everything's happening so fast, and I can't remember... that night is just blank, Rafe. Doesn't that bother you?" You search his face for any sign of recognition, any hint of guilt.

But Rafe's expression remains carefully crafted a mixture of concern and determination. "What bothers me is seeing you upset," he lies smoothly, pulling you closer. "We'll figure this out together, okay? You and me and our baby. "No more talk about leaving, though. You belong here, with me. Got it?"

"We should tell our parents soon," he says, his voice carrying that edge of control he can never quite hide. "Get everything out in the open. But first, promise me something, baby. Promise me you'll stop looking at those college applications."

Your eyes widen with fresh tears as you stare up at him. "But Rafe, I can't just give up everything I've worked for..." Your voice trails off as his grip tightens slightly on your chin, his blue eyes darkening with barely contained possession.

"Those dreams were for the old Y/N," he states firmly, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "The one who didn't have a family to think about. Things are different now." His other hand presses harder against your stomach, a reminder of what's growing inside of you. "You've got bigger responsibilities. To me. To our baby."

The waves crash against the shore behind them as silence stretches between them. Rafe can feel your pulse racing beneath his fingers where they rest against your throat and can see the moment you start to break under the weight of reality. His plan is working perfectly - soon you’ll be completely his, tied to him forever through your child.

"I... I need time to think," You finally whisper, trying to step back from his embrace. But Rafe's grip remains firm, keeping you close as the last rays of sunlight disappear behind the horizon. His expression shifts into something darker, more possessive.

"No more thinking," One of his hands slid up to tangle in your hair. "No more plans that don't include me. You're mine now, Y/N. The sooner you accept that, the better." His voice carries a threat wrapped in velvet as he stares down at you. "Or should we talk about how convenient it is that you can't remember Valentine's Day?"

Rafe's threat hangs heavy in the air as your face drains of color. His fingers tighten in your hair, cocaine making his movements more aggressive than usual. The darkened beach feels suddenly oppressive as he towers over your trembling form.

"What... what do you mean?" You whisper, your voice is small and frightened as you search his face. The familiar warmth in his blue eyes has been replaced by something cold and calculating that makes your stomach turn.

"You really want to know what happened that night?" he asks, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. His hand slides from your stomach to your hip possessively. "Want me to tell you exactly how I made sure you'd never leave me? How I watched you drink that champagne, knowing what was in it?"

You try to pull away, but his grip is iron-tight as realization dawns on your face. "No," she breathes, shaking her head in denial. "You wouldn't... you couldn't..." But the predatory smile spreading across his face tells you everything you need to know.

"I did," he confirms, pulling you closer until your faces are inches apart. "And now you're carrying my baby. No more college applications. No more dreams of leaving. You're mine forever now, baby." His thumb brushes away a tear from your cheek with mock tenderness. "And if you ever think about telling anyone... well, who's going to believe the girl who can't remember her own Valentine's Day?"

The waves crash behind them as your world crumbles around you. You can feel the weight of the promise ring on your finger - once a symbol of love, now feeling more like a shackle. Rafe watches you process everything with dark satisfaction, knowing he's won completely.

"Why?" you finally manage to ask through your tears, your voice breaking on the single word. The hand in your hair tightens as Rafe's expression turns almost tender, though his eyes remain cold.

"Because you're mine," he states simply as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "And I take care of what's mine. You'll see, baby. This is better than any fancy college could ever be." His hand moves to rest on your stomach again, possessive and threatening all at once. "Our little family, together forever in Outer Banks. Just like it should be."

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fakebwitch · 20 days ago

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mean nerdy!rafe helps reader with physics…

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you played with your hands while walking along the corridor that would lead you to his dorm. you stopped recognizing the number of his room, you took a deep breath trying to relax yourself as you raised your hand, knocking two times on the wooden door. after a few seconds the door opened wide, your eyes met the figure of rafe, a white polo shirt with simple brown pants, his face decorated with a delicate pair of glasses. he gave you a small look before moving leaving you some space to enter, “come in”.

choosing rafe cameron as your tutor was one of the last things you would have wanted. you had tried to ask other students but everyone was busy with their sessions or they already had too many people to tutor for, and he was your last hope. he was a few years older than you and was fucking good at any scientific subject - math, physics, chemistry, biology - always getting the best grades, and this did nothing but increase his ego, exploiting his excellent knowledge as an excuse to be arrogant and presumptuous. your grades were really bad and failing in physics was certainly not among your plans, so you had to resort to his help.

you would never have thought that he would agree to give you private lessons, you thought that he would have much better things to do, like studying for the next sessions or maybe he already had someone else to whom he dedicated his time, instead he looked at you for a few seconds — maybe feeling your despair — and accepted, giving you an appointment for friday at 5 p.m. at his dorm.

you get inside, a strong smell of cigarette with a vanilla room perfumer flooded your nostrils. the room was quite tidy, very minimally furnished with few personal decorations — unlike yours— there was a small bookcase full of books, and not to mention his desk, covered with scribbled sheets, just as you had imagined it. he sat on one of the chairs fixing his hair, “sit” he said looking at you, you did as he said by sitting in front of him, placing your bag on the chair next to you.

“let’s just start” he said crossing his hands on the table, you nodded taking out your book with a small notebook, as well as a small pencil case. “what do you want to start with?” he asked you, his look stinging while waiting for your answer, you had never had a real conversation with him and being aware of his character you didn’t really know how to behave, you didn’t want to look stupid in his eyes. you opened the book showing him the topic you hadn’t understood, rafe gave it a little look without uttering a word, an imperceptible “mhm” was audible to you while he took his notes.

before you noticed it he began to explain, his words fluid and clear while he gestured lightly with his hands, his eyes fixed on yours sometimes fell on his notes or on your book showing you what he was referring to, not even the slightest difficulty transpired from his speeches, as if he was talking about a banal topic that did not include the most complicated formulas and most absurd meanings. holding his gaze was difficult for you, having to focus your attention on something other than his sharp blue eyes. no matter how much you got lost in the details of his face and how he seemed so involved in what he was explaining to you you could not afford distractions, you had to listen and you had to understand above all what he was saying, or you would not have solved anything.

he stopped leaning his back on the back of the chair, the biceps muscle contracted as he scratched the back of his neck, “got it?” it was all he said, his tone almost arrogant as if not understanding what he said was stupid. “yeah” you nodded placing the pen on the table, on the sheet of your notebook some small sentences were visible concerning some important formulas or terminologies.

“we need to make a little practice” he said taking your book in his hands, flipping through the pages in search of some exercise to put into practice what he explained. the room felt suffocatingly quiet, his presence was intimidating, his sharp gaze like a dagger that kept you on edge.

“let’s try this problem” he said, sliding the book across the table toward you. his hand brushed yours briefly, and you felt a jolt shoot up your arm. it was ridiculous how much his touch affected you, how even his scent—a mix of clean cologne and the faint, lingering cigarette smoke—was making your head spin. “okay” you murmured, trying to focus on the equation scribbled on the paper. but your mind was anything but clear. you picked up the pen, feeling his eyes on you, watching every move you made as if you were under a microscope. he got up from his seat, your breath hitched as you heard his slow step approaching you. you tried to shake it off, focusing your attention to what you should’ve solved, but then he stopped right behind you, you could feel his presence towering you, his scents even more clear now that he was so close to you.

“you’re doing it wrong” he said, leaning closer. his voice was low and curt, but not cruel. he reached out, his large hand covering yours as he guided your pen across the page. his touch was firm, his skin warm, and you found yourself holding your breath as he pressed against your back. “there. that’s how you set it up” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. his breath ghosted across your cheek, and you couldn’t help but turn slightly, catching the edge of his jawline and the curve of his lips in your peripheral vision. he was so close you could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes when he glanced at you.

“are you even paying attention?” his words snapped you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, heat flooding your cheeks. “y-yeah, I’m paying attention” you stammered, though your voice betrayed you.

rafe smirked, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “doesn’t look like it.” he sat on the chair next to you, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something about his expression—arrogant, almost predatory—that made your stomach flutter in the most inconvenient way.

“i said I’m paying attention” you repeated, your voice a little firmer this time, your eyes never leaving his. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how flustered you were.

“hmm” he hummed, tilting his head as if he were trying to figure you out. “prove it. solve the next one on your own.” he slid another sheet toward you, his fingers lingering on the edge of the paper. “let’s see if you actually learned anything.” his voice provocative, almost amused by the situation, as if he knew the kind of effect he was having on you. you did your best to hold back, the words threatened to come out of your mouth but you swallowed them; being given private lessons by the best student was certainly not something that happened to everyone, and you could not afford to lose this privilege just to retort his stupid provocations.

you picked up the pen, determined to prove him wrong, even if your heart was pounding like a drum. the numbers and formulas blurred in front of you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, the heat of his body still lingering near yours. you tried your best, but you didn’t even have the slightest idea of where to start. minutes passed, and each seconds you became more discouraged, his gaze fixed on you almost judging you and you couldn’t take it anymore. “I can’t,” you admitted, your voice barely audible.

rafe chuckled softly, shaking his head. “of course you can’t.” he stood up, moving behind you. you felt your chair shift as he placed his hands on the backrest, leaning over your shoulder to look at your work. his voice was close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “let me show you again.” you froze as his hands settled lightly on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing against the base of your neck. it felt too intimate, too intentional, but he didn’t seem fazed. instead, he leaned closer, his chest just barely grazing your back as he reached for the notebook.

“this is where you keep screwing up” he murmured, his tone low and deliberate. “you’re overthinking it.” his hands squeezed your shoulders lightly before one slid down your arm, guiding your hand to pick up the pen again.

you could barely focus on what he was saying. every nerve in your body was hyperaware of his touch, the heat radiating off him as he stayed impossibly close. you managed to scrawl out the equation under his guidance, but your mind was a mess, the numbers meaningless.

when he finally pulled back, his lips brushed your ear as he whispered, “see? wasn’t so hard.” your breath hitched, and you turned to look at him, your faces dangerously close. his smirk widened, his eyes flickering down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. the air between you felt heavy, charged.

“rafe—” you started, but your words faltered when he leaned in, his hand brushing your jaw as he tilted your face up. “relax” he said, his voice a mix of command and tease. “you’re way too tense” his thumb grazed your cheek, and before you could think, his lips were on yours—soft but insistent, a mixture of dominance and curiosity.

you were shocked by his gesture, it took you a few seconds to actually realize that his lips were on yours, and that he was kissing you. your hands tightened around his face pushing him towards you, the kiss quickly became more intense, both fighting for dominance.

rafe pulled away from the kiss trying to catch his breath, but was taken by surprise by your lips again on his, eager to taste his soft lips again. one of your hands went down his chest, pushing him so that he was sitting on the chair next to yours, and in a quick movement you sat on his lap. rafe didn’t utter a word, leaving you free to do whatever you wanted; he couldn’t hide his amusement in seeing you so eager, taking the lead.

his hand tightened around your chin, moving you away from his lips. his intense eyes stared at you for what seemed like an eternity, admiring the way you seemed so desperate after just one kiss, your lips flushed and your hair already messy, your eyes stared at him with a burning desire that you could no longer hide.

“so eager are we?” he was teasing you, a faint laugh left his lips. you tried to speak but his hand was too tight and you knew that if you opened your mouth nothing sensible would come out, he would only have made fun of you. he let go of the grip on your chin, letting it wrap more gently under the jaw, angled your face while his lips approached your cheek, placing a sloppled kiss right under your ear. you bit your lip closing your eyes while his kisses followed the line of your jaw, slowly going down towards your neck. for sure that bastard knew how to use his lips.

his lips moved skillfully against your neck, sucking and wetting the skin. unknowingly your hips began to move against his lap, looking for a desperate clutch with his bulge, your pussy almost praying to be touched. his free hand tightened around your waist stopping your movements, his lips let go of your neck bringing his gaze back to you. “didn’t know you were so needy” he said lowly almost as if he was talking to himself, his cock semi hard in his pants and he could feel through the thin material of your panties a wet spot.

"you were the one who kissed me first," you replied, raising an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth lifting into a sly smirk. you weren't lying-it had been him. he kissed you first, set everything into motion, and now here you were, the one craving more, so typical of him.

his gaze darkened, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "and you were the one who couldn't keep your hands off me, pushing me back so you could grind on my dick" his voice was low, dripping with heat, each word sinking into you. “just a consequence of your gestures” you said shrugging your shoulders, rafe couldn’t help but laugh at your answer.

“i think we should do less talking” he said in a whisper, resting his lips on yours, this time he didn’t stop you, letting you rub yourself on his bulge, earning you little whinings from him. his hand tightened around your breasts, squeezing it between his hand, you weren’t wearing a bra so it was easy for him to feel your hard nipple and squeeze it between his fingers through the material of the shirt, earning a small gasp from you.

“you want this?” he asked you, as if it wasn’t already obvious enough. but he needed to hear you say it, just to boost his ego even more. his hand made space under your skirt, playing with your panties. “yes” you answered without hesitation, the need between your legs growing more and more. his thumb gently brushed your clit, moving in a circular way, the contact sent a shiver all over your back and you couldn’t help but let out a little whine at the slightest pleasure he was making you feel.

“stop teasing” you ordered him in a firm voice, your hands clenched around his shoulders in search of support. “as you prefer” he replied in a moking tone, a grin on his face. without wasting more time with two fingers he moved the material to the side, with two fingers he collected all your wetness. he started teasing your clit again with his thumb, this time, however, he pushed two of his fingers inside you, a big gasp left your lips to the sudden intrusion. his fingers moved quickly and with experts inside you, touching all the spots that made you shudder, as if he knew you for years and knew by heart how to make you melt.

your head fell back completely overwhelmed by pleasure, small and continuous moans kept coming out of your mouth, unable to contain you. rafe loved how responsive you were, your moans were like a sweet song to his ears and he couldn’t help it, he angled his fingers inside you, his pace getting faster and faster making you continue with your melody. “love your pretty sounds” he said, his eyes completely fixed on you while his hands worked on you like no one had ever done, “fuck... just like this” you incited him, your voice choked completely out of breath, your hips moved slightly, riding his fingers.

you could still feel his hard cock against the soft skin of your thigh, and for the pleasure he was making you feel you couldn’t help but reciprocate. you brought your hands to his belt, unbuttoning it quickly, you unbuttoned his pants and with your fingers you tightened the zipper pushing it all the way down with a quick movement. you stopped for a few seconds, your legs trembled while rafe continued to hit your spongy spot. you continued your work by pulling out his cock, his pink and swollen tip practically screaming to be taken care of, he was long and thick. lke a magnet your hand tightened around it, your thumb rubbed on the fluffy skin of his tip.

“g-goddamn...” his head fell back, a spit fell from your mouth ending directly on his tip, using your fingers you spread it along the entire length, quickly working the hand around him. his expression was simply fantastic, his face corrugated, his eyebrows sulked while his mouth emitted small pathetic whimpers. despite this his fingers continued to abuse your little wet hole, his free hand tightened tightly around your thigh, his fingers dug into the soft skin leaving a mark.

“f-fuck” his voice completely broken as he continued to moan your name, your walls tightened around his fingers at the sight below you. you could not explain what you were feeling, in seeing a presumptuous, unpleasant, proud guy like him completely wrapped around fingers, a mess of moans and whines, bringing yourself closer and closer to the orgasm.

slimy sounds filled the room, coming from both of you. you tightened your hand around his tip, focusing on it again, having realized how sensitive he was. “h-holy shiiit baby” a broken moan came out of his mouth and you could feel his legs shaking under you, he was close.

and you were too.

he could feel it, from how your moans were more persistent and how your pussy was clenching around him, almost trapping his fingers. “as much as I love you pretty hand around me, i fucking need to be inside you” and so he took out his fingers, your hole clenched around nothing as you felt your stomach squirm for the orgasm just denied. your hand around his cock stopped,you watched him with a pout, even if you knew that in a few seconds you would finally have his cock inside you.

“you better make it worth” you provoked him. you knew he would fall into your trap, “oh don’t worry angel... you know I’ve got you.” and before you could realize his cock slung inside you, his length made space inside you while his thickness widened your walls. rafe let out a choked moan at the sensation of your warm walls, which welcomed him inside him. “feels soo good around me... so fucking tight” he praised you, his hand was around the flesh of your ass, holding it in his hands.

without giving you a any time to get used to him, he began to push himself hard inside you, his tip hit in no time your cervix. he helped you take off the shirt you were wearing, throwing it somewhere in the room. his hand immediately tightened around your breasts, squeezing it. he gave you an hard slap on the ass as his hot mouth wrapped around your nipple, sucking it and biting it lightly. you wrapped your hands in his hair, pushing him closer to your chest, completely ruining his carefully done hairstyle.

you don’t know what happened to you, but you put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him backwards so that his back was against the back of the chair, you dug your nails into his skin while you crossed his gaze — confused but intrigued by your sudden gesture of dominance — his cock stopped inside you. you began to ride him, your hips moved quickly as a hand of rafe came down to stop firmly on your waist, his glasses completely fogged. “shit rafe... feels so good inside me” you said with a big moan, his big cock sank into your hot and wet pussy. you lowered your face meeting his lips, the kiss was completely messy, your tongues quickly collided with each other, the salivas mixed together as well as your cum inside you.

“look so beautiful like this... riding me so fucking good” he said with clenched teeth, another hard slap on your ass. “i’m cumming” you said immediately after hearing his words, you could feel the weight in your stomach grow. rafe’s hips met your thrusts, while his hand went down, the index and middle finger moved quickly in a circular way on your clit, leading you to high.

with a big moan you finally reached your climax, your movements slowed down abruptly, your legs trembled at the intense pleasure achieved, and if it hadn’t been for his hands tight around your body you were sure that you would have already fallen. “fuuck” your pussy tightened around his cock, releasing your cum that was covering his tip inside you.

“that’s it baby, took me so well... f-fuck gonna cum” his voice hoarse as he used his last forces to push himself inside you, trying to reach his orgasm. it took you a few seconds to recover from the insane orgasm you had just had, despite the sense of overstimulation you moved your hips slowly, meeting his thrusts. “shit... here we go” when he feel he’s reached the limit he pulled out, he squeezed a hand around his length moving it quickly up and down, with a few pumps splashes of his cum finally fell on your lower stomach.

“thaaat’s it” his words dragged as he fully enjoyed the sensation, his hand tight around the tip not wanting to waste even a drop. without thinking twice you brought two fingers along your stomach, collecting his cum and then bringing your fingers to your mouth, savoring its flavor.

he didn’t say anything, but his gestures spoke clearly. he approached to give you one last intense kiss, savoring himself on your tongue, his hand gave a last slap to your ass before finally detaching from your lips, “we have to continue studying” he said, suddenly returning seriously. he lifted you slightly so that you were sitting on the chair next to him.

he got up from his chair, adjusting his pants and polo while sitting in front of you. “alright, let’s get back to work,” he said, his tone casual, as if nothing had happened. but the way his gaze lingered on you told a different story.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #x reader #smut #rafe cameron story #rafe cameron x fem!reader #x fem!reader

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aventurineswife · 1 month ago

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Can you do Aventurine, Sampo, Ratio and Jing Yuan react that reader has turned into a kitten?

At first, they didn't know that reader has turned into a kitten until reader tried to show the evidence

Cat-kitty-cat, Cat-kitty-cat

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sampo x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Fluff, Humor, Kitten!Reader, Soft Moments, Lighthearted, Playful Interactions.

A/N: KITTYYYUHHHHH!!!

The warm light of the floor glimmered off Aventurine’s rose-tinted glasses as he sat in his office, shuffling a deck of cards with practiced ease. The quiet knock at the door didn’t faze him; he expected one of his assistants.

“Come in,” he called, but the door remained shut. His brows furrowed. “Hello?”

A muffled meow answered, faint and uncertain. He rose, smoothing the fur trim of his coat before opening the door, only to find nothing. Another meow had him glance down, where a kitten with fur as soft as his fur trim stared up at him, eyes wide with urgency.

Aventurine crouched, an intrigued smile curling his lips. “Well, aren’t you a peculiar little gambler?” he mused, reaching out to pick up the kitten. It immediately pawed at the rims of his glasses, tugging them slightly askew.

“Hey now,” he chuckled, “those aren’t a toy.” But as the kitten batted at his bracelet with a strangely familiar persistence, realization struck. His smile faltered, replaced by genuine shock.

“...Wait. Is that you?” he whispered, his fingers brushing over your tiny head. The kitten’s insistent nod and another urgent meow confirmed it. Aventurine’s laughter broke the tension, a mix of amusement and disbelief.

“Well, love, you’ve really raised the stakes this time. Don’t worry,” he said, cradling you against his chest, “we’ll figure this out. But first—how do you feel about poker?”

The merchant whistled a jaunty tune, inspecting his latest haul in a dimly lit backroom. A soft thud made him pause, his eyes darting to the source. There, amidst the scattered goods, a small kitten struggled to climb out of a wooden crate.

Sampo knelt, laughing under his breath. “Aw, did I accidentally ship you in a box? Poor little one.” He scooped you up, but froze as the kitten squirmed, reaching for his face with a familiar urgency.

“...Hey, wait a second,” he muttered, narrowing his eyes. The realization hit when you swatted his nose with deliberate intent. “No way. Is this some kinda joke?”

You yowled, smacking at the silver cuff on his ear. Recognition dawned, and Sampo barked out a laugh so loud it startled you.

“Well, well, this is a twist! You’re cuter than I expected,” he teased, holding you up to eye level. “Don’t worry, I’ll fix this. For a small fee, of course. But hey, this could be great for business! Ever heard of the world’s only scammer cat?”

The library was quiet, save for the soft rustle of papers and the occasional sigh from Ratio as he poured over ancient texts. He was lost in thought when a soft thump on the table pulled his focus.

There, atop his meticulous notes, sat a small kitten, staring at him with an intensity that rivaled his own. Ratio’s eyes narrowed. “What is this nonsense?”

The kitten didn’t back down. Instead, it batted at the straps of his arm braces, its persistence strikingly familiar. Ratio tilted his head, studying you with growing suspicion.

“You’re far too bold for a common feline,” he remarked, leaning closer. “Those eyes… Wait.” His tone sharpened. “Is that you?”

You responded with an annoyed meow, pawing at the jewel on his vest. Ratio’s brows furrowed, a rare flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “First, ignorance plagues the universe. Now, this. Fine. Stay still while I calculate a solution—and stay off my notes.”

Jing Yuan was enjoying a rare moment of leisure, sipping tea. A soft meow interrupted the peace, and Jing Yuan turned to find a small kitten attempting to climb him.

“Well, what do we have here?” he said, his eyes warm with amusement. He gently picked you up, cradling you in his hands. “A brave little one, aren’t you?”

As you squirmed, pawing at on his hip, Jing Yuan chuckled. But then he noticed something—your eyes.

“...No,” he murmured, his smile fading. “Can it be?” When you gave a frustrated meow and nuzzled his palm, recognition bloomed.

Jing Yuan sighed, stroking your tiny head. “Ah, so this is what has become of you. How unfortunate.” He set you down gently, his calm demeanor masking his concern. “Worry not—I’ll ensure you’re returned to your proper form. But for now, consider this a lesson in humility, my small friend.”

He leaned back, a soft smile returning to his lips. “Though I must admit, you make a rather adorable kitten.”

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urbanwood02 · 9 months ago

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#wooden study table #wooden study table for students #wooden chair for study table #wooden study table for bed #simple wooden study table #wooden study table price #study table of wood #small wooden study table #modern wooden study table

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goldsainz · 11 days ago

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# MV33 — DE WARMTE VAN KERSTMIS !

MASTERLIST !

SERIES MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ as christmas gift you give max the greatest news of all time.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ talks about pregnancy.

003. NOTE !

✯ last part of the christmas sries! i hope that you all had a wonderful christmas if you celebrate and if not that yiu had a lovely holiday season.

word count : 2,1k

The cabin was exactly what you had pictured when Max had suggested spending Christmas in the countryside—a perfect blend of rustic charm and homely warmth. The logs that made up its walls bore the weathered marks of many winters, and the large windows offered a picturesque view of the snow-covered landscape outside. Fluffy white flakes clung to the branches of towering evergreens, and a small wooden fence encircled the property, dusted in a glittering layer of snow that shimmered in the moonlight.

Inside, the warmth from the crackling fireplace wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, and soft candlelight flickered against the wooden beams above, casting gentle shadows that danced in the cozy room. The scent of traditional Dutch dishes such as the rich, hearty erwtensoep and the faint sweetness of freshly baked kerststol—wafted through the air, blending perfectly with the woodsy aroma of the fire. The table was set simply but beautifully, with rustic wooden plates and a centerpiece of evergreen sprigs and bright red berries.

As you and Max sat down to dinner, the quietness of the setting seemed to work its magic on him. His usually intense features, so accustomed to the pressures of his fast-paced life, softened under the golden glow of the firelight. His broad shoulders, so often tense from the weight of expectations, appeared to relax as he leaned back slightly in his chair.

“Is this what Christmas feels like for you?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence as you picked at a piece of the kerststol on your plate.

Max paused, glancing toward the fire as if gathering his thoughts. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a subtle but genuine expression that made your chest feel a little warmer. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low but certain. “Just simple. No noise, no chaos. Just... calm.”

He reached for his glass, taking a sip of the wine you had brought along, and you couldn’t help but study his face in the firelight. There was something unguarded about him in this moment, something rare and precious. It wasn’t often that he let himself slow down enough to simply be. Here, in this cabin away from the spotlight, you saw a version of Max that felt like a secret, shared only with you.

“You like that, don’t you?” you teased softly, a playful smile on your lips. “The calm.”

He gave a small shrug, though his smile lingered. “I don’t get it often,” he admitted, his tone carrying a weight of honesty that made your heart ache a little. “But, yeah. I like it.”

After dinner, you both settled by the fire, the flames casting a golden light over the room. Max handed you a steaming mug of hot chocolate, his fingers lingering against yours for a moment. You couldn’t help but notice how his usual seriousness seemed to melt away in this setting. He leaned back, one arm resting along the couch behind you, the other cradling his own mug.

As you chatted about everything from childhood Christmases to his latest racing season, you couldn’t help but marvel at how different Max seemed tonight. There was a quiet ease about him, a softness that emerged only when the weight of his fast-paced world was left behind. His laughter came more freely, a warm, low sound that resonated in the cozy space. His blue eyes glimmered with a rare kind of light, a mix of amusement and contentment that made your heart swell.

“You’re different tonight,” you teased, leaning into his side and nudging him gently.

“Different how?” he asked, one eyebrow arching slightly as he turned his head to look at you.

“Less grumpy,” you said with a cheeky grin.

That earned you a soft chuckle, his lips curving into a smirk. “Don’t get used to it,” he shot back, though the humor in his voice betrayed the truth—he liked this, too.

The fire crackled softly in the background, the warmth of it wrapping around both of you like a blanket. It felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving only the two of you in this perfect little bubble. You could feel your heart beating a little faster, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through you as you thought about what you’d been holding onto all evening.

The moment felt perfect, and you decided it was time. Taking a steadying breath, you reached into your bag and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped box. The sight of it in your hands caught Max’s attention, and his gaze shifted from your face to the gift with a spark of curiosity.

“For you,” you said softly, holding it out to him.

He hesitated for a moment, his brows knitting together in mild confusion, before he reached out to take it. “What’s this?” he asked, his voice a little wary but touched with genuine interest.

“You’ll see,” you replied, your heart thudding against your ribs as he began unwrapping the gift with careful fingers.

The paper fell away, revealing a small, folded baby shirt in soft white cotton. Across the front, in delicate letters, were the words: Future Verstappen Racer.

Max froze, his hands still holding the shirt as he stared at it. His eyes flickered with a mix of emotions—shock, realization, and something deep and unspoken that made his expression soften. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared at the tiny shirt as though trying to fully grasp what it meant.

“You’re going to be a dad,” you whispered, breaking the silence. Your voice wavered slightly, the weight of the moment catching up to you.

Max finally looked up at you, his face still a mixture of awe and tenderness. “I... I don’t even know what to say,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. His fingers brushed over the fabric of the shirt as though it were the most fragile thing in the world.

A small, almost shy smile began to form on his lips. Setting the shirt gently on the table beside him, Max reached for your hands, pulling you closer. His thumbs brushed over your knuckles as he met your gaze with an intensity that made your breath catch. “You’ve just given me the best Christmas I could have ever imagined,” he murmured.

His hands moved to your face, cradling it gently as he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours in a kiss that was soft yet filled with the weight of everything he was feeling. The warmth of the fire seemed to pale in comparison to the warmth between the two of you in that moment.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with your own. Max stayed close, his eyes searching yours as though trying to memorize every detail of this moment. The firelight cast a soft glow across his face, accentuating the tenderness in his expression. Slowly, he reached out to set the baby shirt down carefully on the table beside him, handling it with the same reverence one might give a priceless treasure.

His hands found yours again, his fingers threading through yours as he looked at you with a rare vulnerability that made your heart ache. “I know I’m not good with words,” he began, his voice steady but soft, each syllable laced with sincerity. “But I wanted to give you something that reminds me of you. Something to show you how much you mean to me.”

You watched as he reached into his pocket, your curiosity piqued by the small object he pulled out. He opened his hand to reveal a delicate silver pendant, shaped like a racing helmet. Its surface gleamed in the firelight, and as he turned it slightly, you noticed the engraving on its side—the date you first met.

“I had it made for you,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. He placed the pendant in your hand, his fingers lingering against your palm. “So you always know you’re with me, no matter where I go. No matter how far.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as you stared down at the charm. The simplicity of it, paired with the thoughtfulness behind the gesture, struck a chord deep within you. It wasn’t just a gift; it was a piece of him, a reminder of the bond you shared and the love that had brought you both to this moment.

“You’re incredible,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackle of the fire.

Max smiled—a small, soft smile that lit up his entire face. Without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a kiss that spoke of promises, love, and the unshakable connection between you. The warmth of the fire seemed to pale in comparison to the heat of his kiss, the way it melted away every worry and left only the two of you in the cocoon of the cabin.

When the kiss ended, Max rested his forehead against yours again, his hands cupping your face as though he never wanted to let go. His thumb brushed away a stray tear on your cheek, and he let out a soft laugh, almost as if he couldn’t believe how perfect this moment was.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. “For this. For... everything. I didn’t think I could ever feel this happy.”

You smiled through your tears, leaning into his touch. “You make me happy too, Max. More than I can put into words.”

As the fire crackled softly, wrapping the room in its golden glow, you and Max stayed close, lost in the intimacy of the moment. His hands remained on your face, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks, as though he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.

Outside, the snow fell steadily, blanketing the world in a serene hush, but inside, the warmth was almost tangible. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a sound that felt as comforting as the cozy cabin around you. Max’s arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer, his chin resting lightly on top of your head.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with emotion, “this is all I’ve ever wanted. A quiet moment like this, with you, where nothing else matters.”

Your lips curled into a smile as you tilted your head to look up at him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted too.”

Max’s eyes softened, his gaze filled with a depth of emotion that left you breathless. “I used to think Christmas didn’t mean much,” he admitted. “It was just another day, really. But now, with you, it’s different. It feels... special.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “That’s because you are special, Max. To me, to us.” Your other hand moved instinctively to your belly, a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

He placed his hand gently over yours, his thumb brushing over your fingers in a way that made your heart swell. “I’m going to do everything I can to be a good dad,” he said quietly, his tone full of determination. “And an even better partner to you.”

You leaned up to kiss him again, your lips meeting his in a tender, lingering embrace. The world outside seemed to fade away entirely, leaving only the warmth of the fire, the love in his eyes, and the quiet promise of the life you were building together.

Eventually, you both settled back on the couch, your legs tangled together as you curled up beneath a thick, knit blanket. The baby shirt and silver pendant sat on the table nearby, tiny symbols of the future you were so excited to share.

Max’s hand found yours once more, his fingers threading through yours as he held you close. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

“Merry Christmas, Max,” you replied, your voice filled with love.

The cabin grew quieter as the fire began to die down, leaving the room bathed in a soft, amber glow. Outside, the snow continued to fall, blanketing the world in a peaceful silence. And in that moment, nestled together in the warmth of each other’s arms, you knew you’d never felt more at home.

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specsthesecond · 20 days ago

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°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

It’s only a split second longer before you and your orc jump apart and start frantically running around your small living room.

As you run to the kitchen, you hear him frantically gathering the pieces of paper on the table as he shoves them and the translation book under the couch.

You yank his now dry, blood crusted tunic and the bloody cloth off the drying rack in the kitchen and sprint back into the living room, tossing the tunic at him and shoving the cloth under the couch.

You search around the room for anything else to hide while your orc struggles to pull the tunic over his head, grunting as the effort causes him pain. You both freeze in place when you hear the faint but deafening sound of the old wood of your porch creaking under the weight of a boot. You jolt into action and pull your orc further into the cottage away from the door.

The look he’s giving you is terrifying, not at all unlike an animal being hunted. You’re sure you share a similar expression. You keep pushing his massive body into the hallway opposite the door, he’s obviously very conflicted, he doesn’t know if he should hide or stay with you. If he isn’t with you he can’t keep you safe, but if he doesn’t hide that will just leave you both in danger.

After a moment of deliberation he relents to your desperate pulling on his arm and follows you further into the hall until he reaches the only two other doors in your small cottage, the bathroom and the bedroom. Seeing his massive frame in your small hallway might have been funny any other time but now it only fills you with more dread, how the hell are you going to hide an entire orc?

You feel the orcs muscles tense and you grip harder on his arm when three deliberate knocks sound from the other side of the front door. You both stare at the door from the dark hallway, fear frozen, almost debilitated by the inevitability of the situation.

You squeeze past him, open the bedroom door and rush him inside. Motioning for him to just wait and be quiet, he looks back at you with eyes so apologetic, so worried, it makes your heart ache as the door clicks shut.

Another three knocks spike your nerves. Every step towards the imposing wooden door is taken with regret. You place your hand on the knob, breathe a deep breath in and then turn it to open the door.

The rush of cold air is definitely not the only reason your skin prickles. The knight from before stands on your porch, except this time he brought two friends, with their own horses and crossbows.

He eyes you with barely hidden disdain and you stare back as emotionless as you can muster.

He gauges your reaction for awhile, clearly wanting to see all the regret on your face from how you disrespected him earlier. You try to give him nothing but a blank expression, legs trying not to shake and hand clutching the doorknob. You break the silence by muttering,

“How can I help you, Sir?”

It’s hard to meet his gaze because when you do it's terribly obvious that it isn't just hatred in his eyes, he’s studying you. He makes it so clear that he knows you're hiding something and he isn't being fooled for a second about exactly what it is you’re hiding.

“Orcs have been spotted in this area, My lady. We are here to ensure your safety. May we come in?”

He states formally, his pleased expression lets you know how little both of you believe that. A tense moment passes before you harden your voice enough to say,

“Why would you need to come in my home?”

He only looks more pleased with himself, like he knows something you don’t. His condescending gaze lingers on you before he moves it over to the snow covered ground just a few meters away from your home.

Your nerves ignite again when you catch the blood stained snow on the ground, marking exactly where your orc was shot, your eyes follow the red trail in the snow all the way to your front door. You can barely will yourself to look back at the knight knowing he has noticed your breaths quicken and your posture tense even further.

When you do look him in the eyes, all amusement in them has disappeared and nothing but contempt and disgust remain. You try and slam the door shut but the knight is faster, he’s got you in a corner now, you’re desperate actions are as predictable as a game animal.

He overpowers you and slams the door open with his shoulder, you fall to the ground, only able to watch as the man steps into your home and closes the door behind him. You catch the apathetic gazes of the other two nights as the door clicks shut, ceiling you in your own house.

You kneel in front of the knight and do the only thing you can think to do now, you beg.

“Please, please. He's not dangerous, Please!”

Your tear soaked pleading awards you nothing but a vile look of disdain from the man standing above you, which only makes you sob harder. A crack sounds out in your home and your shoulder hits the floor, hand clutching your stinging cheek.

As the knight mumbles something about a "Filthy wench", all you can think about in that moment is how truly pathetic love makes a person, how pitiful it’s clutches render you. You don’t even brace for the boot that slams into your stomach, only cry out in pain at both the impact and the stab to your heart. There is a sudden jerk heard from further in the house, and you smother your cries with your hand but it’s too late.

The knights gaze is fixed to the hallway. He doesn’t look back at your body on the floor as he unsheathes his sword and stalks closer.

Animalistic fear spikes in your veins the closer he gets to the bedroom door. A cold rushing in your bones as your nerves fire. What does an animal do when it’s cornered, when all other options are exhausted? You’ve never felt so much hatred for a living thing before in your life. His steps get further and your instincts grow louder, you look around for anything to help you and your gaze fixes on the bow you left on the floor next to the door. You dropped it there while helping your orc inside, your orc who was bleeding out because of this man. You crawl towards the weapon and wobble to your feet, grabbing a lone arrow from the floor as well.

The knight must hear the staggered movements because he finally looks at you, body trembling, chest heaving, aiming an arrow right at his face with a carnally intense gaze.

The knight clicks his tongue, your ragged state must not scare him as much as it scares you. He doesn’t say anything but he doesn't need to, you can see all his emotions plain on his face, he knows he was right to treat you like an animal.

The knight doesn't take his gaze off you as he slowly places his hand on the doorknob and turns it, waiting for you to make a move. Your hands shake, the string isn’t pulled taught enough and your stance is wrong. Even if you had enough will to shoot you’d probably miss. The knight scoffs and opens the bedroom door.

A barrelling force slams the knight to the wall opposite the door, before he can yell, in pain or for backup, a green skinned hand covers the entire bottom half of his face, muffling any sound he could make. Your orc now stands in the hallway, knight held up to his chest, one arm restraining the knights arms and torso and the other hand covering his mouth.

The man struggles and struggles, letting out muffled yells as you stand stock still, arrow positioned to fire. Your orc looks into your eyes, as he holds the man tighter. He can see the turmoil in your eyes as the arrow shakes in your hold. Your orc tightens his hold on the man stopping his struggling and giving you a clear opening. Your gaze moves from the man to the orc, he looks at you with all the love he did before. You'll never know how he conveys such deep emotions with his eyes but it grounds you, stabilizes your nerves and steadies your aim. There is such love in his eyes but there is also pain, he looks sad, the saddest you’ve ever seen him. He thinks this is all his fault, he’s made his love a killer.

You pull the string taught, breathe one last breath as an innocent woman and let the arrow fly across the living room into the man’s chest. You don’t miss the heart like he did, he dies quickly, chokes and gargles muffled by your orcs hand as he falls limp.

The orc slowly lowers the body to the floor. Closing his eyes before mumbling something to the warm body. He then picks up the knights dropped sword, stepping towards you. You grab your quiver and the rest of your arrows, you don't meet the orcs gaze.

You put two fingers up and motion towards the door, he nods and takes position behind the closed door. You perch yourself behind the kitchen counter, some distance from the door.

A sizeable time is spent waiting in your positions, your muscles sting with the tense position as you try not look at the body in your hallway. You finally hear a knock on the door and a voice call out,

“Had your fun yet? It’s getting late.”

As the door is creaked open and the man steps inside, your orc strikes a blow to the back, stabbing the heart right through the ribs. The other knight yells for his friend and runs inside like a fool, he leaves himself wide open as he runs up the steps of the veranda and you shoot an arrow through his heart.

It’s cripplingly quiet for a long second after his body thuds to the floor at your doorway. The ease at which you've ended these men’s lives leaves a horrible surge in your stomach and a dull pain in your heart. You should feel at least comforted that you've saved your own in the process but the comfort never comes.

You walk to the middle of the living room, meeting your orc half way, he drops the sword and embraces you gently. You drop your bow and sob in his chest. There is no celebration, there is barely a sense of relief between you. Sighing, you rub your eyes and pull away to look into his eyes, and say softly,

“Leave together.”

He smiles sadly down at you and lightly kisses your forehead. He silently picks up the body of the last man killed and takes him outside. You watch the blood drip from the body as he carries it away.

You turn and walk to your room, taking a moment to stare at the body in the hallway before stepping over it. You open up the massive trunk in your bedroom that you use for storage and start taking out anything you don’t deem worthy of taking with you.

The lack of sentimental items in your house often made you sad, no gifts from family or friends, no souvenirs from far places or little useless trinkets, just the necessities. You never once thought this would be a good thing.

Opening your cupboard, you start pulling out clothes and shoving them in the massive trunk. You don’t have many clothes that aren’t essential so most of it gets tossed inside. As you're doing this, the thought of just how permanent this decision is weighs heavily on you. You can hear shuffling in the living room as your orc drags the other bodies out of your home and outside to be buried, you assume. It will take him at least an hour to dig the hole, the dirt should be just melted enough to dig without much issue, at least for him.

You head to the bathroom grabbing your toothbrush, medical supplies, products, lye soaps. You can hear the rhythmic sound of shovelling dirt just outside the small bathroom window. He must have found the spade you keep at the back of the cottage. You give the small room a final scan before closing the door.

You drag the heavy trunk across the floor into the living room and place a few too many books into the trunk, you doubt it’ll be easy for your orc to find Human Common books in orcish markets. You collect all the papers hastily shoved under the coach and retrieve your translation book. A throw blanket, various notebooks, pencils and everything that catches your eye for more than a second gets thrown into the trunk.

You head to the kitchen where you grab you favourite mugs, some hand made, some bought from the market, your red ceramic pot, your flask and some of your dried meats and teas before dumping it all inside. You look down at the pile of all your most loved possessions and feel an emptiness in your chest. This really was a rather empty life you’ve lived. You sigh and heave the lid of the trunk closed, latching all your belongings inside.

You grab the two coats on the coach, sling on your bow and quiver and lug the trunk onto the porch, dragging it down the few steps onto the snowy ground. The knight's horses must have trotted away by now, heading back home without their riders. You wonder if they had anyone waiting for them at home, a lover, children maybe? You won't be missed but will they?

You throw on your coat as the orc pats down the last pile of dirt before making his way to you. You meet his gaze with an apologetic look, reaching up to hold his cheeks. He bends down a little so you can reach and welcomes your touch. Your gaze moves down to his blood crusted tunic, a reminder of the inevitability of this outcome. You hold out his heavy coat and he takes it with a smile. He picks up the heavy trunk and makes it clear he will be carrying it the rest of the way.

You give one last forlorn look at your home before turning away, following your orc into the treeline and into your new life.

°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❆⋆.ೃ࿔:･°

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#see now that wasn't so bad was it?#monster fucker #monster x human #monster x reader #monster lover #monster fucking #monster boyfriend #orc romance #orc x reader #orc x human #❆orc woodsman

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vanteguccir · 9 months ago

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── ୨୧ !　𝟰 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗛𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘

　　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is the only person who can make Matt smile genuinely; OR 4 times that Y/N made Matt smile.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

1. Had Matt shaved his beard?

The morning started like any other in the triplets' house. The sun had barely risen over the horizon when the three found themselves in the typical kitchen, each of them still fighting sleep but ready to face another day of recording.

Nick was busy preparing breakfast, while Matt and Chris lounged lazily around the table, Chris with his head lying on the wooden surface.

"Smells good, Nick. What are you making?" Matt murmured, rubbing the drowsiness away from his eyes.

"Waffles and bacon." Nick responded in a low, slow tone, stirring the strips inside the ceramic frying pan.

"Bacon with waffles?" Chris grimaced, yawning loudly as he lifted his head, laying his body haphazardly on the chair.

Meanwhile, Y/N was still in her own world, enjoying a peaceful sleep in her shared room with Matt. However, her sleep was interrupted by the sound of a plate hitting the sink's marble counter, followed by a loud curse.

With a yawn, the girl slowly sat down on the bed, running a hand through her messy hair and running her sleepy eyes around the room, already having the idea that Matt was in the kitchen, where the sound had echoed from.

Seconds later, she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, ready to start her morning routine. But something immediately caught her attention as soon as she entered the smaller room. On top of the sink was Matt's beard trimmer, an object she recognized all too well.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked around, trying to process what she was seeing. Had Matt shaved his beard?

With her heart beating fast, Y/N ran back to the bedroom, grabbing the pajama shorts thrown on her boyfriend's gaming chair, quickly putting them on and finally leaving the room, completely ignoring her own messy appearance.

Back in the kitchen, the brothers were busy devouring the breakfast Nick had prepared. They barely noticed when Y/N walked out of the small hall that connected the room to her bedroom, her eyes fixed on Matt.

"Matt..." Her voice came out in an incredulous whisper as she approached, stopping in front of him and staring at his face intensely.

Matt looked up from his plate, smiling big when he saw her awake.

"Good morning, babe. How did you-" He interrupted his own sentence when he saw her condition, frowning in confusion and worry. "Hey, did something happen?"

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure, but the sight of Matt without a beard was too much for her. With a fake sob, she knelt before him, her eyes shining with false emotion.

"Matt, baby, how could you do this?" She whimpered, dramatizing every word. "You shaved your beard... The beard that I loved so much!"

The other two brothers watched the scene with wide eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or be worried about Y/N's reaction, unlike Matt, who took a few seconds to process what she had said, before a loud laugh escaped from his lips, his hands letting go of the food he was holding.

"We're done!"

Matt continued laughing, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"Y/N, did you hit your head?"

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2. Girls' night (with a masculine touch)

The night was warm and cozy in the triplets' house as Matt, Nick, Chris, and Y/N gathered in the living room. After a long day of recording and, on Y/N's part, studying, they decided it was time to relax and have fun together.

"What are we doing tonight?" Chris asked, throwing his phone onto his lap and looking around at the others, lowering his body onto the upholstery.

"Can we do our nails?" The suggestion escaped Nick's lips quickly, his eyes shining with excitement. "And maybe do some skincare."

"Like a girl's night?" Y/N smiled, straightening her posture quickly, feeling just as excited.

"Why not?" Matt shrugged, staring at his nails with a contemplative look. "But I've never done my own nails before, I always do them with Analysse."

"It's just painting your nails, like watercolor. It's not difficult, honey." Y/N waved her hand dismissively, getting up from her seat and running to her shared room with Matt, looking for her box of nail polish and nail's tools.

With their gear gathered, they arranged themselves comfortably and strategically on the couch, ready to begin their impromptu night of beauty.

Y/N led the way, skillfully beginning to paint her own nails as she explained the process.

"First, you need to apply a base coat to protect your nails." She explained, opening the base coat and carefully applying it, being quickly followed by Nick.

The brothers watched with interest, watching each movement with concentration.

"That seems easy enough." Chris commented, taking the little bottle from Y/N's hand and starting to apply it to his own nails.

Meanwhile, Matt was carefully examining the available nail polishes colors, trying to decide which one to choose. Y/N's eyes found his figure, a smile growing on her face, feeling great love for his appreciation and care for the moment.

"How about a black one with white details?" Matt suggested, holding up two bottles in the mentioned colors, showing them to Y/N with a proud smile on his face.

"It's going to look amazing, my love."

Chris quickly picked out his own nail polish color with Nick's help, returning to his seat while swinging his legs eagerly.

They dipped their brushes into the nail polish bottles with determination but soon discovered that painting their own nails wasn't as simple as it seemed.

"This is harder than I thought." Matt grumbled as he tried to paint his nails without smudging, his fingers shaking slightly as his tongue lolled slightly out of his lips in concentration.

Chris nodded, his lips pressed tightly together as he tried not to move his hand too much.

"I think I'm doing this wrong..."

"You two are doing pretty well for beginners." Y/N laughed softly, watching the brothers fondly.

After some errors, everyone finally finished painting their nails, each proudly displaying their own piece of art, even if it was a little smudged.

"Look at us, a bunch of nail professionals!" Nick joked, blowing on his freshly painted nails with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess we could consider a new career." Matt contributed, admiring his nails with a satisfied expression before raising his hands, his nails facing Y/N as he wiggled his fingers excitedly.

"It's perfect, babe, congratulations!" Y/N praised, leaning towards him slightly and sealing the back of his right hand with her lips lightly, exhaling the fresh smell of nail polish and acetone.

"Maybe we should open our own men's salon." Chris smiled, shaking his hands to dry the nail polish faster.

Matt laughed out loud, imagining the scene of them painting other men's nails with the same determination and enthusiasm they had moments ago. It would be comical.

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3. Video as a couple

Matt was nervous as he prepared to record his next video for his personal YouTube channel. It was still one of the first videos he posted there, and despite his enormous desire to make more content for his own channel, he felt an anxiety growing within him every time he thought about creating something new on his own.

Therefore, he decided to invite his girlfriend, Y/N, to participate with him in that specific one, taking advantage of the opportunity to introduce her as his girlfriend.

It's not that fans didn't know Y/N was his. They knew, and they knew it very well, but Matt never got around to introducing her as such officially.

"Are you ready for this?" He asked, looking at Y/N with a nervous smile.

"I should be the one asking you that." Y/N smiled small before nodding, holding his free hand affectionately. "But yes, I am. There's nothing I want more than to be said to be your girlfriend, baby."

With a nervous sigh, Matt began to set up the camera on the dashboard of the car, while Y/N settled into the passenger seat next to him, trying to calm him with words of encouragement.

"You'll do amazingly well, hon. I'm sure of it." Y/N said, leaning over the car console and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Finally, everything was ready, and Matt began recording, his voice a little shaky at first but soon becoming more confident as he got used to the camera without his brothers around him.

"Hey! Welcome to my personal YouTube channel." He began, smiling slightly at the camera. "Today I have a very special guest for you to meet."

He turned his face to Y/N with a twinkle in his eye, who waved at the lenses, opening a shy smile.

"This is Y/N, my girlfriend." Matt continued, looking at her with big heart eyes. "Most of you already know her as our best friend, and maybe you already know about our relationship, but now we're finally going public to make it official... Well, she agreed to participate in today's video, so I hope you enjoy getting to know her a little better."

Y/N smiled as she watched her boyfriend introduce her as his, her cheeks taking on a reddish hue, feeling a little nervous and shy, but happy to be there next to him.

To make things more fun, Matt decided to answer some questions asked by fans about the two of them together or individually. He selected some of the funniest and most interesting questions and read them out loud for the two of them to discuss.

"Okay, first question." Matt began, looking at his phone in hand. "How we met?"

"Well, we actually met at a friend's birthday party from our school in elementary school. Matt was trying to impress everyone with his basketball skills, but he ended up hitting the ball over one of the girls' heads." Y/N laughed, remembering the story fondly.

Matt blushed at the memory, shaking his head and looking down, trying to hide the involuntary smile that took over his face.

"Next!" Matt cleared his throat, his voice coming out high-pitched from the shyness of the previous event. "What's the secret to a long-lasting relationship?"

"Oh, great question!" Y/N clapped her hands in excitement, lifting her legs and pressing the soles of her feet onto the seat, keeping her knees bent and tights against her chest. "For me, the key is communication and mutual support. It's important to always be honest with each other and literally be there through the good times and the bad."

"For sure, I also think it's essential to have understanding and empathy for each other. Being willing to listen and understand your partner's needs makes all the difference." Matt contributed.

He looked at his girlfriend, waiting for approval and receiving a big smile in return, which was accompanied by a nod.

"What's the most memorable memory you've had together?" Matt read the next question quickly, before looking up, his eyes alight with nostalgia. "There are so many wonderful memories to choose." He reflected, thoughtfully. "But one of my favorites was when we made our first unplanned trip together almost two years ago and ended up getting lost in a small town in Italy."

"Oh my God, so true!" Y/N threw her head back, laughing loudly at the memory. "That was an unforgettable experience. I remember we went to ask for directions at a small restaurant right on the corner from one of the alleys, and there were several pastas hanging, drying. I just asked the main chief what that was, and boom, we passed all day in that restaurant, tasting different types of fresh pasta and discovering more of their culture together."

As the video continued, Matt and Y/N shared more stories, laughs, and loving moments. They answered questions about their funny habits, their favorite couple traditions, and even their future plans together.

In the end, when Matt ended the video with a warm thank you to the fans who would watch it when posted, he turned to Y/N with a beaming smile.

"Thank you for doing this with me, petal." The brunette whispered, leaning over the car console and pulling her into a tight hug, smiling widely. "It meant the world for me."

"I'll always be here to support you, Matt. And I can't wait to make more videos together in the future." Y/N smiled, feeling happy to have shared that moment with Matt.

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4. Kittens day

Y/N woke up excitedly that morning, knowing it was the day she would volunteer at the cat kennel like she always did every Tuesday. It was an activity she loved doing, and she always invited Matt to join her, but his work with YouTube always ended up interfering.

However, this time, Matt had surprised Y/N by making room in his schedule to join her. She couldn't wait to share this experience with him.

When they arrived at the kennel, they were greeted by the soft sound of meows and purrs. Y/N smiled when she saw the felines playing and snuggling on their colorful scratching posts of all possible sizes.

"It's so good to be here." She said excitedly to Matt, taking his hand as they walked through the decorated halls. "Cats are so adorable and deserve so much love and affection."

Matt smiled as he listened to her chatter about the felines, watching them and her with fascination.

The couple spent the day taking care of the cats, feeding them, cleaning their litter boxes, and, of course, playing with them. Y/N taught Matt the proper way to hold and pet kittens, and he was soon having as much fun as she was.

"I never want to leave again." Matt suddenly commented as, sitting side by side on the fluffy rug, they watched a group of kittens playing with a fur ball. "I understand why you love coming here every week."

"It's a special place, with special cats... You know, I'm really glad you're here with me today." Y/N smiled, lifting her head slightly to look at him better, feeling her heart warm when she realized that Matt was just as involved in the activity as she was.

"I'm glad too."

At the end of the day, as they were about to leave, Matt suddenly stopped, looking at a cat in one of the cages. It was an orange cat with bright blue eyes that stared back at him curiously.

"Wow, he is perfect." Matt whispered, slowly approaching the cage. "He seems so friendly."

"You like him, don't you?" Y/N smiled, following him towards the feline, noticing the immediate connection between Matt and the cat.

"Yeah, I really do." Matt nodded, his eyes shining with determination. "What do you think about having a cat?"

Y/N felt a wave of emotion and happiness wash over her when she heard him, taking a few seconds to process if she was creating things in her head, realizing she wasn't when she noticed Matt looking at her with expecting eyes.

"Oh my God, really?" Her voice came out louder than expected, slightly scaring the kitten. "Oops, I'm sorry, little kitten."

With beaming smiles and clasped hands, they went to the kennel staff to begin the adoption process. While Y/N filled out the forms, Matt kept his eyes fixed on the cat lovingly, imagining their days with the new addition.

"What will be his name, my love?" His girlfriend's voice sounded behind him, breaking him out of his reverie. Matt shook his head slightly, focusing his attention on Y/N again, an easy smile stretching across his face.

"Snuggles. His name will be Snuggles."

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