Smells Like Teen Spirit (Rafe Cameron x Reader)
Warnings: NON/DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, attempted murder + suicide, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, underage drinking, jealousy, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics
➥ cont.
summary: Being one half of the royal couple of Figure 8 isn't what it's cracked up to be.
~
The first time Rafe hit you, it was on your birthday.
Like every year, your parents threw you a big party that hosted no less than a hundred people. A good number of those people were friends from school and familiar faces you’d grown up with. The other bunch were family friends that had more in common with your parents than you. You took their pretty cards filled with money and thanked them with a smile, relieved when they scampered off to congregate with the other forty somethings.
It was the same party every year. Half the people of Figure 8 in attendance, an abundance of gifts you could barely keep up with, and a light scold or two from your mother to smile and greet the next person who came in. Your hair was flawless and your dress was the perfect length.
The only difference this year was the presence of a boyfriend at your side.
“Rafe, if my dad sees us, I will never hear the end of it.”
Your tone was light and teasing, and you said it with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness there. It really didn’t matter how older you grew to be, you were sure you’d always be your daddy’s little girl. The older man already hadn’t been the most excited when you told him you were dating Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son, and you were positive that the Cameron family’s reputation was Rafe’s only saving grace.
You’d just turned eighteen then after all and was already flaunting your new adult status.
The blue-eyed boy in front of you merely chuckled, tightening his arms around your waist and leaning in to kiss you again. The house and the yard were filled with almost too many people, so you hadn’t hesitated when Rafe discreetly guided you upstairs.
“He’s too busy talking about his new boat, isn’t he?” he wondered. “He’ll talk all night if they let him.”
You lightly tapped his chest, but you didn’t voice any disagreement.
Your back was leaning against your bedroom door, the muffled sounds of some classical music reaching your ears through the wall. Rafe’s hands were tight on your waist, and you both felt and heard him chuckle again, his lips still pressed against yours. Only this time, he kept laughing—softly and to himself—and you gave him a slight frown when he pulled away.
“I was just thinking…” Rafe pulled you close again. “How hilarious it would be if he was going on and on about that damn boat…none the wiser to his daughter getting fucked on her birthday right upstairs.”
This time you hit him a little harder, and Rafe only laughed again.
“You’re not funny,” you scolded, deflating a little as you pulled away from him. “Way to ruin the mood.”
You said it quietly as you sat down on the edge of your bed, but Rafe heard it clearly, and when you looked up at him, you recognized the look on his face instantly.
“Funny,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door. “Mentioning sex usually has the opposite effect on most people.”
You rolled your eyes with a turn of your head, looking towards your window. The atmosphere was different, now, and you didn’t know if it was your fault or Rafe’s. He joked like that sometimes, and you knew it, so you could recognize that maybe you were being too sensitive.
The topic at hand, however, was a sensitive one for you.
“I really don’t want to have this fight, right now,” you mumbled.
You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t return it, determined to just stare down at the people in your yard. The air was thick, the tension even thicker, and you reached up to rub your arms, trying to rid them of the goosebumps that had appeared. Rafe hated being ignored, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to continue the conversation because you knew what was brewing.
Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He was pretty—the kind of pretty that even some girls would be jealous of. He came from the kind of family that taught him about manners and respect. He never hesitated to do what he could to make your life easier despite growing up wanting for nothing. You didn’t think it was possible for an already spoiled girl to be spoiled some more until you started dating Rafe and he proved you wrong. He treated you like a princess, so yes. Rafe was the perfect boyfriend.
Mostly.
“I’ve been really understanding, you know…”
Rafe’s voice was low, and your gaze dropped to your lap.
“…but we’ve been dating for what? Eight months?”
You swallowed, eyes burning.
“Do you know how hard Topper and Kelce would laugh at me if they knew my girlfriend of almost a year refuses to have sex with me?”
You scoffed, finally looking at him, brows pulled together.
“You make it sound like I’m punishing you,” you breathed. “Rafe, this has nothing to do with you, I… I’m just not ready.”
“…and still no ETA on when you will be, huh?”
You blinked at him, lips parting at his callous tone and words. You looked away, blinking back tears because you would hate it if you cried on your birthday of all days.
“You’re being an asshole.”
You whispered it, and you heard Rafe huff.
“I’m not trying to be,” he told you, and you heard him move closer. “…but come on. I get it…”
The bed dipped as he sat down next to you, and you felt his hand on your face, fingers grazing your cheek.
“You���re nervous, and it seems scary, but you’re treating me like I’m some stranger on the street, and not…your boyfriend. You know I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, and that’s why I don’t understand it,” he bit out. “I treat you like gold, and here I am, eight months in and wondering if you even feel the same way.”
You whipped your head around to stare at him in disbelief, looking between his eyes. You didn’t know how he could be serious, but as you gazed at him, you realized that Rafe was very serious. You took a moment to scoot away from him just a tad.
“I show you everyday how much you mean to me, Rafe…but because I won’t have sex with you that means I don’t love you? So just forget all the other stuff, I guess,” you sneered.
Rafe reached for you when you started to turn away, shaking your head and lightly pushing at his hands. Today was your birthday, and you were fighting with your boyfriend…because sex was something you just weren’t ready for. You snatched your arm out of his hold, standing on unsteady legs.
“When you first brought this up, I told you then that I wasn’t ready, and you made it clear you were okay with waiting. Was that a lie?” you asked him, meeting his gaze.
Rafe ran his hand down his face, huffing to himself.
“No, but I just didn’t think I’d still be waiting almost half a year later.”
He was standing, now too.
“So, why are you? No one’s forcing you to stay here, Rafe,” you sadly told him with a shrug. “You don’t have to be with me if sex is that damn important to you. There are plenty of other girls out there who will happily give you what I don’t want to.”
You crossed your arms over your chest.
“…and I know because I see the looks they give you…and the looks they give me.”
You were used to envy. You’d been on the receiving end of it all your life. Growing up on this side of the island guaranteed that from birth, but you also knew it was because your standing was only rivaled by Sarah Cameron. If Rafe’s sister were anyone else, you might have found yourself involved in some one-sided rivalry, but Sarah was a lot like you.
Just a girl born into fortunate circumstances.
However, what you weren’t used to was envy because of the man you loved. When it came to your house and your lifestyle and everything else, it never bothered you because no one could take those things from you. Rafe, on the other hand… You knew what he was like and what he was used to. It was why you’d been very honest about your sexual history and lack thereof from almost the beginning. If Rafe was going to leave you for someone else all because you wouldn’t have sex with him, you would have rather he do it early.
Not now…not eight months in because now you loved him, and the thought made you want to cry, and it would take just as many months to get over him.
“If I wanted any of those other spoiled bitches then I wouldn’t be here,” Rafe told you. “Besides, you think I’m just going to walk away with nothing after investing so much time and money and energy into you?”
You reared back at that, eyes widening just a tad, and Rafe seemed to realize how that came out. He sighed, reaching for you just as you stepped away from him. You heard him curse when you left the room, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you hurried to mix yourself in with all of your guests downstairs.
Rafe talked about you like some business investment he was waiting to get a return on. It hurt, a lot, and while you wanted to believe he hadn’t meant it like that in his head, you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really how he saw you. Your mother smiled at you when she saw your face, none the wiser to your temporary absence. Your own smile was forced as she introduced you to their new golfing buddies.
You didn’t know when Rafe came back downstairs, only quickly glancing away when your eyes connected with his after some time. If your parents noticed your distance from him, they didn’t comment on it, and after a while, you barely noticed it yourself. You immersed yourself in your friends, halfway listening to boyfriend troubles and semester woes.
This was the only thing you and Rafe ever fought about. Plenty of your friends had boyfriends before who tried to pressure them into doing things they didn’t want to do. You were always the friend to tell them to dump them without hesitation, so why hadn’t you done the same? Was it because Rafe was so perfect in all other aspects of your relationship? The back and forth hadn’t ever been so serious before…not until tonight.
As you sipped on the drink you weren’t supposed to be having, you remembered the hurt you felt when Rafe implied you didn’t love him. What a crazy thing to say. You treated him just as well as he treated you, never mind the fact that you told him every day how much you loved him…but because you wouldn’t fuck him that meant otherwise?
It was enough to make you angry.
“Finally stopped hiding from me…?”
You tensed up for half a second, relaxing with a sigh as you heard him come closer. You were out by the water, now, sitting on the boat dock with one leg swinging. It had been nothing but just you and your thoughts for a good thirty minutes, and you guessed it took that amount of time for Rafe to realize you were no longer in the house.
“I don’t know yet,” you honestly told him.
“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t,” Rafe quietly said, getting straight to the point.
“…but I don’t know. You don’t even think I love you just because I won’t have sex with you. For all I know, that’s exactly how you see me,” you mumbled.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Says the guy ruining my birthday!”
You were looking up at him, now, tearfully, and you shook your head. Saying it aloud made you realize just how shitty it was, and you sniffed, pulling yourself to your feet.
“Just go home, Rafe…”
He stopped you from walking by him, and you ignored anything he was trying to say. The more he leaned in, that was when you smelled it, and your frown deepened at the stench of alcohol on his breath. You didn’t know why the smell made you so angry. It was a party, after all, but maybe it was the fact that if anyone of the two of you deserved to drown their sorrows in booze, it was you. Not Rafe. Pushing at his chest, you scoffed.
“One argument…and you’re already getting drunk?”
You jerked your face away from his hand, glowering at him.
“Don’t you want to at least wait for Ward to give you the daily disappointment speech?”
The slap wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was hard enough to make your face burn.
You were staring at the water from when your head had whipped to the side, and when a nightly breeze blew by, kissing your skin, only then did the dull burning sensation fade away into a painful one. Your lips were parted in shock, and you were slow to reach up and touch your cheek. The silence was loud, and when you finally looked at Rafe, he looked as shocked as you felt.
All of your breath had left you, and your brain was short-circuiting, desperately trying to reconcile your boyfriend with the same guy who’d just slapped you. It didn’t seem real, and yet the dull pain you felt said otherwise. A few tears escaped against your will, and it was only then did Rafe move. His face fell, but you were already backing away.
“Y/N-.”
“Don’t touch me,” you tearfully spat. “What is wrong with you?”
He didn’t listen, grabbing your arms anyway, and you were still in too much shock to really fight back. Rafe cooed at you, trying to take your face into his hands no matter how much you protested. You wanted him far away from you, and your brain was unsure of how to achieve that, still grappling with the memory of his palm connecting with your cheek.
“Hey, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Baby, stop.”
You shoved at his chest, hitting it, but he wasn’t deterred. He only rested his free hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, and the feel had more tears spilling over. You kept trying to get away, but Rafe refused to let you, repeatedly apologizing and shushing you. You could feel the cool metal of his ring against your scalp, his lips there too as he kept telling you he was sorry.
Your chest was so tight, and it ached just as much as your face. Your mind was still fighting to make sense of what had happened tonight, and despite Rafe’s apologies for his entire behavior, you told yourself that this was the last straw. Rafe had ruined your birthday in more ways than one, and you were done. You had to be.
…because you deserved better.
The first time you had sex with Rafe—with anyone ever—you’d been terrified.
…and drunk.
An entire month after your birthday, and you didn’t know if you were more shocked or angry that you stayed with Rafe. You had been so determined to leave him that night. He had ruined your birthday beyond repair, and you knew that anytime you looked back on the night you turned nineteen, you’d only remember Rafe slapping you on the dock.
…but you’d also remember his profuse apologies, and the tears in his eyes as he begged you to forgive him.
He was drunk. That was what he kept saying, that he was drunk and acted before thinking. It was barely a reason and certainly wasn’t an excuse, so why did you stay? It was stupid to stay…and yet you did. You let Rafe kiss your face and lead you back to the party that had long died and smile in the face of the parents whose daughter he’d just hit.
You’d answered the phone as he called you, taking almost half an hour to just tell you again how sorry he was and how he didn’t know what came over him and how it would never happen again. You’d never known Rafe to be so apologetic in all the time you’d been dating him. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the circumstances, and the whole time, you’d only been able to listen in silence with your fingers grazing your face.
You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for days, going over it in your head again and again. Torn between listening to your gut and telling yourself that it had just been a one-off thing, a bad drunken night. After all, what you’d said to him hadn’t been the nicest, knowing how he felt in regard to Ward and his relationship with him. It didn’t make it right…but you had provoked Rafe. You’d said it to hurt him…to make him angry… Right?
…but that wasn’t the case a month later.
Things between you and Rafe hadn’t been the same since. He still doted on you, and your parents still adored him, and you were reluctant to admit you still loved him, but you could never get that night out of your mind. You could never forget how swift it had been, how no thought to you had been spared. Rafe had only been focused on retaliating, hurting you, and it was something you often struggled with. You believed it wouldn’t happen again…but what if it did?
Without even realizing it, you became less argumentative with the blond. You gave him less pushback, you smiled more and became more agreeable to his suggestions. You spent more time with him, making him happy. You believed him when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but in the back of your mind, something in you was doing everything you could think of to make sure it didn’t.
…and that was why you still didn’t quite understand how the fight had started.
Something about Topper…or Kelce.
You were so drunk, it was hard to remember.
“I saw you!”
You had blinked at Rafe from your place on the couch, staring up at him in wonder and confusion. Another Friday meant another party, and promising your mother you’d be back by a certain time, you’d allowed Rafe to help you into his truck. Nothing about the night had been out of the ordinary, and it was why you found yourself wracking your brain.
“Rafe, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you softly told him, trying to understand why he was so mad.
The only son of Ward Cameron knocked the glass of water right out of your hand, and you flinched at the action, blinking at the sight of shattered glass on the floor. You’d gotten it to try and help you sober up before you went home, and you stared at the spilled water with parted lips. You were too drunk to fully grasp the severity of the situation you were now in.
Suddenly Rafe was there, too close, leaning down over you with his hands resting on the back of the couch. You leaned back and away from him, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. Like he was so disgusted with the sight of you, and again, you wracked your brain to understand what you’d done. To understand how to fix this.
Rafe’s blue gaze had been cold, icy, and you hadn’t missed the tick of his jaw. The alcohol in your system hindered your thinking, and that had seemed to make Rafe angrier, like he was furious you couldn’t put it together. Read his mind. Overwhelmed, you hadn’t been able to stop a few tears of frustration from escaping, and that just seemed to really send him over the edge.
“You were in his lap,” he had bit out, and only then did you finally understand.
Your odd relationship with your boyfriend these days had driven you to drink more than you ever had. You’d been sloppy…clumsy, and Topper was nice enough to help you back to your feet after you’d quite literally fallen right onto his lap. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but one look into Rafe’s eyes had you swallowing it down.
He was very serious…and very angry.
You reached for him, but Rafe only slapped your hands away, straightening and looking down his nose at you. It was a look that made you feel so…cold, and with one blink, you remembered that you were alone. Sarah was God knows where, and the remaining Camerons had gone out to eat. The house was usually empty during this time, but it wasn’t this Friday night.
It consisted of you…and your angry boyfriend.
“I should…I should go. Call my mom,” you mumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.
Your attempts to get by Rafe went unsuccessful, and with each block to your path, something deep within your gut just…dropped. Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and nothing about it was warm, welcoming. Rafe seemed to be so mad at you about something so silly, but instead of just talking about it later when you were both much clearer headed…he didn’t want to let you leave.
“Is that what you’re gonna do?” he’d mocked, a mean look on his face. “Call mommy and daddy to come get you?”
Sarah.
You reminded of him of Sarah.
That was what he’d said, what he’d thrown at you. His tense relationship with the other girl was no secret to anyone, least of all you, and you winced at every insult he threw at you. Spoiled brat. Perfect princess. Uptight prude. It shocked you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Rafe wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t sober, but you’d hardly seen him drink all night and not nearly as much as you, and he was insulting you with confidence, throwing all of these things at you that you never knew he felt.
“I’m just going to go home, okay? You’re being an asshole, and I don’t know why, so I just…”
At some point, your back was grazing the wall, and Rafe was hovering before you, a look in his eye like leaving was the very last thing he wanted you to do. Every move of yours was mirrored, every turn met with one of his own, and for the first time ever…you were afraid of your boyfriend.
When Rafe hit you that night, you hadn’t been scared. Not really. You’d been angry…shocked…disbelieving. Not scared though. You’d just wanted to be away from him, you had even wanted to hit him back, but not once did you remember feeling scared for your life. Not like this night, and you couldn’t keep it together.
“Rafe, please, I just…I just wanna go home,” you choked out, touching your temple. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”
You were so confused as to how you got here. The night had taken such an unexpected turn, and more than anything, you wanted to sleep it off and write the whole thing off as a bad dream. You wanted to get some more water and take a shower and skip to the part where you had a pounding headache in the morning. You didn’t understand how a night of partying had turned into an argument with your boyfriend.
Although, you supposed it wasn’t much of an argument. Mostly Rafe yelling at you and you trying to understand why. Rafe was determined to make this into something it wasn’t, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let you leave without dead-ing this whole thing, you frowned at him.
“I fell. You know I fell, you know…”
Your words died in the air as Rafe rolled his eyes, and something in you was telling you that Rafe was going to believe what he wanted to believe. He was determined to make something true, and it startled you to realize that you’d lost this argument before it even began. Slipping from in between Rafe and the wall was a mistake.
A mistake that had consequences.
Your purse was halfway across the room before you could even grab it good, Rafe suddenly in your face again. He was yelling about a whole bunch of nothing, and when you turned from him again, Rafe made sure it was the last time, gripping your upper arm so hard that you actually cried out. His other hand followed suit, and he shook you, hard enough to make your head whip back and forth.
The only time he listened to you was when you asked him to let you go.
…and he did just that…shoving you in the process.
The kitchen counter slowed your fall only a bit, but it added to the pain more than anything else. Trying to get up proved fruitless, because Rafe was there, kneeling before you with one hand on the counter. The other was on your face, forcing you to look at him. You were too drunk to make full sense of everything he was saying, to grasp the danger you were in. When you finally did, it was too late.
…because Rafe was already ripping the dress he bought you a week ago.
You thought it was a joke at first—some awful and insensitive scare tactic—until you were reaching up to pull at the hand around your throat. Your other hand slapped at the cabinets below in panic, and with a knee between your legs, it was impossible to close them. You knew that you were alone, but that fact didn’t stop you from crying out.
“You really expect me to just watch you throw yourself at my friends? Huh?”
The kitchen floor was cool against your back.
“…and laugh about it?”
He was fumbling between you both, and the room was spinning too much for you to understand why. You felt nauseous, and Rafe was hurting you, and you were cold. Not to mention that your head had started to hurt, but you also realized that everything was hurting.
“But you won’t even touch me.”
You felt like you’d been punched in the gut…only lower.
The pain of Rafe’s intrusion had you wailing, and the difference in your reactions couldn’t have been starker. It was hard to decipher, but you were sure that Rafe had moaned, a low drawn-out sigh as he sheathed himself inside of you. You could feel Rafe’s chest heaving against yours, could feel his heartbeat, could even hear his shaky breath.
You, on the other hand…
You couldn’t move. You felt frozen, restricted by something unseen, and when you tried to fight against it, you gasped. One shift had you wincing, and tears spilled over almost immediately. Your hands were pressing against his chest, now, desperately trying to push Rafe away, pushing off of you… out of you. It was no good, Rafe in a whole other world you weren’t privy too as he pulled back.
The feel had you wincing again, and you thought…
Well, you thought wrong.
Your relief was short-lived, and Rafe ignored everything you said as he started to thrust inside of you. His hips barely left yours, only enough to create friction, and you pushed your forearm against his neck, fighting to get him to stop. The pain wasn’t something you could wrap your head around, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or not that you were so drunk.
Every snap of Rafe’s hips made you cry harder, harsh sobs escaping and echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. The sound of your bawling was only rivaled by the groans that escaped Rafe, your boyfriend pointedly ignoring your plight. One of his hands pushed against your face, forcing your head to the side…as if he didn’t want to see your face.
See the reality of what he was doing to you.
You thought at some point that the pain would go away, subside, but it felt like it only got worse with each thrust of his cock. Rafe was a man on a mission with only one objective in mind, and you were having the hardest time sorting your thoughts, realizing that in this moment you were a means to an end. An objective to be met through the use of your body.
…but you supposed it was more than just that.
Rafe was always entitled, a trait you found somewhat endearing much like towards an entitled child, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he’d feel entitled to you too. Before the night of your birthday, you knew the one thorn in your relationship, the one thing to actually put a crack in your relationship. Deep down somewhere, you expected Rafe to just leave you. After all, why wouldn’t you?
There was no universe in which you’d ever consider the possibility of the alternative.
The possibility that your boyfriend would just take what he wanted.
It didn’t last long—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system sparing you—but you couldn’t even be relieved. Even after Rafe pulled out, spent and satisfied and out of breath, the pain still remained. He was talking, and you didn’t know if he was talking to himself or you, but you paid it no mind. You could still feel him deep in your gut, and you rolled onto your side, curling into yourself.
You didn’t hear him the first time, but the second time Rafe told you to get up, he was forcing you to your feet. It hurt, and you could barely walk, and your confusion only grew. His hold was tight, and his tone sounded off, and you discovered why when headlights from the yard bled through the windows and into your line of sight.
He was rushing you to get upstairs, but you kept stumbling from both the pain and your blurry vision. Rafe didn’t let you go until you were just inside of his room, and as you collapsed to the floor, you could hear the door opening downstairs. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and you hadn’t even realized Rafe had left—to give some half-baked excuse for the broken glass, no doubt—until he returned, suddenly kneeling at your side and begging you to stop crying.
You tried to push him away, but your movements were sluggish, weak, and you weren’t able to hold your own as he pulled you to your feet. Rafe stumbled into the bathroom with you, an arm around you and holding you up as he started the shower. You didn’t want him touching you, but you were physically unable to stop him. Every step hurt and made you stumble, every wave of your arm made you sway, and when the warm water ran over you both, there was nothing you could do as he washed away every remnant of his assault.
You were at Rafe’s side on his birthday, a small smile on your lips as he kept an arm around your waist. Rose thanked you for coming, not that she would expect anything different, and Wheezie asked if you would be staying over. The youngest Cameron had taken a liking to you—all of them did really—and she looked forward to having you around. You wanted to tell her no, but that wasn’t what you said. Instead, you said:
“Its’ Rafe’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”
The dark-haired girl beamed, adjusting her glasses, and her satisfaction was contagious. You knew that Rafe’s dynamic with his family was tricky at the best of times, and while you were sure they loved you just fine, something in you also wondered if they liked who Rafe was when he was around you. They were happy to host you for as long as they could.
They had no idea that it was only 24 hours earlier when Rafe tried to kill you.
Trying to leave Rafe resulted in the last thing you ever expected.
That night—and all the other nights that followed—haunted you. When you closed your eyes, you could only see Rafe at his lowest, holding you down and hurting you. You could only feel the pain of him forcing himself inside of you, and the pain that lingered when he was no longer there. The memory of bloody water swirling down the drain was a constant in your mind. As well as the memory of Rafe putting you in his bed, pulling his shirt down to your knees.
You should have left the night of your birthday, you should’ve gotten out then, and none of it would have ever happened, but you told yourself that late was better than never. You told yourself that you learned your lesson and you didn’t have to experience any more hurt to leave. Your eyes were open, and while you didn’t know if you’d ever go against Rafe legally for what he did, you did know that you were leaving him. You had to focus on each step at once. Trying to think so far ahead was enough to scare you.
Right now, you just needed to leave him.
His entire visage had been eerily calm as you broke up with him, voice shaking as you did. Even he hadn’t been able to deny how your relationship had deteriorated, become something unrecognizable and unhealthy. The morning after, you felt like you were existing outside of your body. You could see Rafe leaving apologetic kisses along your face as you stirred, but you couldn’t really feel it. You couldn’t feel his hands either, not until they found a home between your legs, at least.
Your protest was almost immediate, but Rafe had assured you it was fine…and you were scared.
So, you believed him.
Experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time was foreign to you. Rafe’s previous assault was not something to be ignored, but it felt odd to come around him and hiss from the pain of it at the same time. He was gentle, pressing his lips to yours and grazing his fingertips against your skin. His thrusts had been slow and careful, but the damage had been done, and every push of his hips brought out conflicting reactions.
That was how it always went.
Even after the pain and bruises were long gone, you couldn’t stop being afraid of Rafe. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t respect any kind of refusal from you. What kind of relationship was that? How could you thrive in that? Rafe may have been your first everything, but you weren’t naïve. He was an abusive asshole…and you were just too scared to do something about it.
Until last night.
You thought it would be easy. You even remembered internally laughing at yourself for how dramatic you’d made it in your mind. You thought… You thought that Rafe would move on, let you go. After all, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and you had even exhaled when he nodded, a soft ‘okay’ soon to follow.
“Let me drive you home,” he’d said.
“Okay,” you’d replied.
You didn’t know why you thought it would be that easy.
Things with Rafe hadn’t been easy in months, and your attempted breakup was no different.
You realized that when the needle on the speedometer started to rapidly climb, the sound of Rafe’s revving engine loud in the truck. You asked him what was going on, where he was going, even though deep down you knew. You knew Rafe better than anyone probably, so you knew the answers to your questions before you even asked them.
“Rafe, stop,” you’d begged, reaching for his arm, but the blond simply fixed you with a wry smile.
“Why?” he’d wondered with a shrug. “So, you can leave me? Why would I want that?”
The houses and trees were flying past you outside the window, and you never felt more powerless than in the moment you were trapped in Rafe’s truck, unable to do a thing as he raced down the road towards the end he’d already picked out for the both of you. Any attempt to grab the wheel only resulted in Rafe jerking it—jerking the vehicle in the process—and scaring the shit out of you.
Retracting everything you’d said earlier only resulted in a harsh slap to the steering wheel, a dry laugh from Rafe soon to follow.
“You think I believe that load of shit? Huh?”
“Rafe-!”
“You just tried to break up with me not even thirty minutes ago,” he screamed.
He wasn’t wrong, and you still wanted to, but you were more afraid of dying than living a lie. You pleaded with your boyfriend, assuring him that you didn’t mean it. He only laughed again, and you got the feeling that Rafe was genuinely amused by you. By your tears, by your fear, and by your desperation.
Your heart was racing so fast it could be classified as painful. Your hands were sweating and constantly sliding against the door from where you tried to hold on to it. You pulled at his arm when he swerved into the other lane, swerving back just in time to miss an oncoming truck. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat, and at this point you couldn’t even see the road because of your tears.
“Rafe, please, please just talk to me,” you cried.
His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, blue eyes focused on the road with not a glance spared towards you, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. You looked out of the window again, unable to make out a thing, and when you reached for Rafe this time, he didn’t slap your hand away. He didn’t protest when you wrapped your arm around his waist, leaning into him and resting your hand against his chest.
You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, and you didn’t know if you stopped fighting as some unconscious tactic or simply because you were accepting what was impossible to escape. Rafe had to have been going a hundred miles an hour, this kind of speed something your brain could barely fathom. It was after some time when you felt his hand on your head and some time after that when you gradually felt the truck slowing.
You were still shaking long after it came to a stop in some wooded area, and the silence in the vehicle was loud. Rafe was just playing with your hair while you trembled against him, and when he stopped, it was only to trail his hand to your neck, gripping the back of it harshly as he forced you to sit up. You knew you looked as distraught as you felt, but Rafe…
Rafe looked calm and in control and nothing less.
His blue eyes ran over your face, drinking in your trembling lips and wet cheeks, lingering on your wide eyes the longest. You felt him rub his thumb along your skin, and when he hummed, it harshly pressed against the side of your neck. Suddenly, the corner of his pink lips curved just the slightest, and nothing about it was soothing.
“I wasn’t serious… You know that, right?”
You didn’t respond because he wasn’t kidding, and you both knew it. Rafe shifted, moving closer, and he brought his other hand up to touch your cheek, wiping your tears away. He studied your eyes, leaning in and grazing your lips.
“It was just…something I didn’t mean. You understand though. Doing things…saying things we don’t mean,” he slowly said to you, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Right…?”
The drop in his voice and the slight raise of his brows had you swallowing, and he was looking at you like he dared you to disagree. Fighting the urge to throw up, and with a shaky nod, you told Rafe what he wanted to hear.
“Right,” you whispered, and he chuckled.
“Alright,” he breathed with a blinding smile, pulling you into his side. “Kelce is throwing together some small thing at his house. I told him we might stop by…”
He trailed off, leaving room for a comment, and you only shrugged.
“That’s fine with me.”
Your voice was barely audible, but Rafe heard you fine, starting the truck and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I knew it would be.”
You’d been quiet the whole night, and you’d been quiet all day, only existing as silent support to Rafe on his birthday. If anyone noticed your reserved demeanor, no one commented on it. No one knew that as you wished Rafe a happy birthday, you were afraid of what could happen if you didn’t smile hard enough. When he kissed you, you could only think of how he’d kissed you after threatening to kill you both. Every time Rafe held your hand, it felt like a chain tethering you to him.
You dreaded the moment the party would thin out and everyone would start trickling from the home in pairs, heading back to the comfort of their own homes until just Rafe and his family remained. Eventually they would call it a night too, and you and Rafe would be alone, and you wouldn’t have a choice but to kiss him back when he eventually kissed you.
…and kiss you he did.
“You almost ruined my birthday, you know,” he mumbled into the kiss, making you pause for half a second.
Your only response was a quiet apology, and Rafe sighed into your mouth.
“That’s okay, baby,” the blond purred. “You know I’ll let you make it up to me.”
You were terrified of your boyfriend, and that was why you let him undress you. You let him wrap his arms around you and hold you close and press kisses to your skin. It was surreal to have sexy with someone you were afraid of, like you were being held hostage in your own body. If Rafe noticed—and you were sure that he did—he didn’t care.
He was content to lay you down and bury his face into the crook of your neck. In fact, you were sure Rafe liked your fear, liked that you were so scared of him. You thought it made it all the more fun for him to push his cock into you and feel you tremble in fear. You just knew there was something in Rafe that took great pleasure in making you momentarily sacrifice your fear of him for ecstasy instead.
He forced your head back, and your chest arched upwards into him. You gasped at the feel of his tongue on your skin, gliding over a hardened bud and tasting you. His hips came down slowly, like he was savoring the feel of you clinging to his cock. He sighed with every thrust, and you were never able to swallow down your own moans once Rafe started stroking that fire building within you.
“Fuck,” he groaned, nipping at your lip as he plunged his cock into you.
One of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, and the stretch burned in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t the best either. One of your hands was wrapping around his arm, trying to ground yourself as the other twisted into his sheets. You couldn’t stop gasping, clenching down on him every time Rafe hit that spot in you that made you lose your breath.
When he pushed your leg back more, you yelped in pain, but Rafe only hummed. His thrusts became rougher, and he only hummed again when you hissed. Your hand rested on his chest, pushing against him slightly—a nonverbal communication—but Rafe ignored it.
“Rafe…”
His hips were slapping against yours, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. Your other hand came up too, and he slapped it away, that same hand wrapped around your throat only moments later. You let out a choked cry, reaching up, but Rafe didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you and choke you.
“Look at me-look at me,” he quietly spat.
Too afraid not to, you did, your distressed gaze meeting his even one in the low lighting. He was so close, nose almost brushing against yours, and he looked between your eyes. His hand tightened around your neck, making your heart skip a beat, and his free hand covered your breast, squeezing it, and your free leg kicked at the sheets.
“I will kill you.”
Your nails pressed into the skin on his arm.
“Do you understand me? You try to leave me again…and I will kill you.”
Your heart was threatening to burst from your chest, and the ceiling behind Rafe’s face was starting to blur. The edges of your vision were growing faint, darkness creeping along the outer rim.
“I will dump your body on the side of the road, and I will get away with it.”
His words and cadence were slow, purposeful, and you knew that Rafe was entirely serious. Tears had long spilled over, and you couldn’t stop crying. Rafe shook you, your neck straining from the action, and the whole time he kept fucking you. His lower movements didn’t stop once, sliding into you over and over and stroking your walls all the while he threatened you.
He roughly let you go, and you coughed, touching your throat and shaking uncontrollably. When Rafe shifted, your leg falling to the bed, you pressed your hands to your face, sobbing into the palms of them. Rafe caged you in, thighs meeting yours with every thrust, and he didn’t seem to care at all at the sight of your distress. In fact, he kissed the back of your hands, humming with every stroke, and you could only think that if you had broken up with him on your birthday then he wouldn’t be threatening your life on his.
Ward Cameron may have felt a lot of things about Rafe, but he wasn’t going to let his only son go to jail.
You should have known that when you called the police, throat tight and phone call tearful as they asked what your emergency was. Telling the woman on the other side of the phone that you were hiding from Rafe Cameron inside of the bathroom wasn’t easy. Telling her that he had a gun was even harder, and something in you wondered if they would’ve been as urgent if they hadn’t heard his booming voice from the other side of the door as he threatened you.
You were sitting on the steps when a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind the cruiser, and you felt your face crumble. There was some relief as the older man went back and forth with Shoupe, but it dwindled the longer it went on. When Ward turned his head towards you, you dropped your gaze, eyes tracing the blood on your foot from where a few shards of glass had nicked it. You didn’t dare look up, not even when you heard his footsteps approaching despite the loud protests from the Sheriff.
When Ward said your name, it was cautious—gentle—and you shook your head.
“No.”
Your name rolled off of his tongue again, and you interrupted whatever he was going to say.
“No, no, no! No,” you cried.
You knew what he was going to say, where this was going, and you refused. You were tired, so tired, and each time you’d tried to do the right thing after your disastrous birthday, you got screwed over. Each time, Rafe was one step ahead or using that charming smile and devious words to convince you it would never happen again. Every slap, every shove, every hand around your throat was proof of all the lies that left his lips.
You were sure that the only truth Rafe had ever told was when he said he’d kill you.
It was silent between you two for some time, and you heard Ward sigh. You bit your lip, worrying it so much you started to taste blood, and you sniffed, wiping your face as you refused to look at the man. When he took another step towards you, you flinched, and only then did you look up to see the way Ward’s face fell.
You watched him press his lips together, only a thin line, now.
“I want you to tell me what happened.”
You scoffed.
“You know what happened. I’m sure Shoupe told you,” you forced out, and Ward exhaled through his nose.
He briefly glanced over his shoulder, looking at his son in the back of the cop car.
“I want to hear it from you. I want to know how a couple’s quarrel turned into-.”
“A couple’s quarrel?” you repeated in disbelief, tears falling as you exhaled. “He threw a vase at me. He put a gun in my mouth.”
You couldn’t tell how Ward took your words, but he did put his hands on his hips.
“Now, Y/N…you know it’s a crime to lie to the police.”
His response didn’t surprise you, and you nodded, your laugh humorless. Ward knew you were telling the truth, he knew just how unhinged Rafe could be, but he didn’t want him in jail. He couldn’t have the Cameron name tarnished by the arrest of his only son on domestic violence charges. Ward would rather handle this in private, away from prying eyes…and it disgusted you.
“I’m not lying, and you know I’m not lying,” you choked out.
“Why would Rafe do this? Right out of the blue?”
You were on your feet, now, sneering at the other man.
“It’s not out of the blue. Rafe has been treating me like shit for months!”
“…and this is the first we’re hearing of it…?”
The eldest Cameron tilted his head to the side, studying you, and you felt your breath leave you. You watched him touch his chest, gaze soft as he seemed to plead with you.
“Now, I’m not saying that’s not true…but you know that’s what they’re going to ask you. They’re going to ask you why you didn’t tell anyone…and they’re going to note how convenient this all is.”
You knew that, and you looked away, hands falling at your side.
“Rafe says you dropped a vase, and it started an argument.”
“He’s lying-.”
“…and anyone can say you’re the liar.”
You pressed your hands to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell. Even through your lids, you could see the change in colors from the flash of the squad car, and when you opened your eyes again, the procession of red and blue lit the yard.
“That gun is legally his…and no one saw him do what you claim he did.”
“Why are you protecting him?” you loudly wondered, looking at the man in disbelief.
You’d eaten dinner with his family, even watched his daughter some nights, and he’d smiled in your face on numerous occasions, treating you like his own. Now, though…when push came to shove…Ward Cameron was showing you that you were not one of his own. Rafe was his own…and you were now a threat.
He took a step towards you, and you reached out to grip the rail to keep yourself from falling.
“I am just telling you what will happen if you continue with this,” he slowly started, and you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. “They will take Rafe away, and I will pay his bail, and he’ll come home with me. There were no witnesses, and everything is pure speculation, a simple case of he said she said.”
You knew that he was right, and you felt yourself start to shake.
“…and in that scenario, I can’t help you.”
You knew what he was saying. You knew that he was talking about protecting you from more than just scrutiny and the law—he was also talking about protecting you from Rafe. Your lips parted, and you shakily exhaled. You felt like you were going to collapse, legs unsteady, and when you looked over…your eyes finally met a familiar blue pair.
You were positive that Rafe hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since they’d put handcuffs on him. If looks could kill, you were sure that you’d be six feet under, and you frantically blinked. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and your stomach churned at the memory of his hand on the back of your neck. His other held the gun, angrily forcing the weapon into your mouth as he sneered at you.
Something about returning the smile from some pogue at The Wreck—blond and rowdy and kind of familiar.
You recalled that his name was JJ.
The fight had started almost as soon as you got inside, and you shuddered at the flare of pain in your arm, recalling the way Rafe had shoved you into the wall. You’d only slid down just in time to miss the flying vase. Just thinking about it was enough to paralyze you with fear…and then you thought about what would happen should you choose to have a legal battle with Rafe and his family.
…and lose.
You let out a choked sob, looking away, and letting your face fall into your hands. You collapsed back down onto the steps, Ward’s voice reaching you.
“You tell Shoupe this was all one big misunderstanding…and I can do so much more for you. …but I can’t help you if you go through with this.”
You couldn’t stop crying, because you were trapped…and you knew it. Your parents had money too, just as much as the Cameron’s, but that only evened the playing field, it gave you no advantage, and you were back to square one of your word vs Rafe’s. You knew he would be far more forgiving if you just…did what Ward said. You knew that if you went through with this and lost, Rafe would wring your neck.
“I won’t let my son go to jail, Y/N. One way or another…”
You knew he was telling the truth, the conviction in his tone matching the certainty in your chest.
“…but at least this way, I can help you.”
Your knees bounced as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your tearful gaze focused on the perfectly manicured grass. You curled in on yourself, head falling, and your shoulders shook from your sobs.
“He scares me,” you struggled to say, and Ward placated you.
“I know…I know he does, but you have to let me help you.”
You pulled the ends of your sleeves over your hands, wiping your face. The night was still lit up with red and blue, and you closed your eyes, stomach sinking. It took everything in you to give Ward a shaky nod, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Ward waved the other man over.
You felt like you were betraying yourself, arm still aching and throat still raw from all of your screaming. A lot of your trembling was still from what had happened hours ago, and like that day in his truck…and the night of his party…you’d really thought you were going to die. You couldn’t go through that again, but Ward said that he would protect you because you knew Rafe better than anyone, and you knew that if you tried to press charges against Rafe and didn’t succeed…
He would kill you.
“Y/N wants to talk to you.”
You glanced up at the sound of your name, holding Ward’s gaze for a few seconds before finally meeting Shoupe’s.
“I want… I don’t-I don’t wanna press charges.”
Your words tumbled out, and for a moment, you were sure that Shoupe hadn’t heard you properly. You came to realize that he heard you fine, and his confusion wasn’t from a lack of understanding. You watched him rest his hands on his hips, looking between you and Ward.
“Now, Y/N…” he started, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “I heard that phone call. I heard what you said and I heard him yelling.”
“It was just a regular argument, Shoupe,” you whispered with a shrug. “It was stupid. A stupid vase…”
“That he threw…”
The pause was heavy, and you glanced away.
“That I dropped.”
You shook your head when he said your name, and you licked your lips, gaze pleading as they met his again.
“Please, just let him go. He didn’t do anything to me. It was a stupid fight that I exaggerated because…I was angry and things got out of hand, and this just went way beyond what I intended, so…”
The other man didn’t look like he believed you, at all, and you watched him glance at Ward—who hadn’t said a thing—before looking back to you. He sighed, fixing you with a look you couldn’t name.
“Are you sure…?”
Your only response was a nod, unsure if you could lie any more without breaking down. With an aggravated sigh—aggravation at you or at Ward, you didn’t know—Shoupe signaled to his deputy to let Rafe go. Ward was pulled to the side as the two men had a hushed and heated conversation, going back and forth, while your gaze rested on Rafe.
You felt like you were doing the worst thing possible as you watched them guide him out of the backseat. He looked far from happy as they uncuffed him, and just like all night, his gaze refused to leave you. The flashing red and blue bathed him, blue eyes glinting almost dangerously, and you pressed your lips together while you watched him rub his now free wrists.
The other men were distracted as Rafe slowly made his way over, and you didn’t dare move. You were too scared to, and as much as you wanted to pull your eyes away, you couldn’t find the strength to. It was just hours ago that you’d stared into that face as he yelled at you for something as harmless as a smile. Only hours ago, he was pushing you around and threatening you.
…and now those same hands were reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.
You cried for so many reasons as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, rocking you from side to side and shushing you in what was meant to be a soothing voice. They were tight, and you cried harder, apologies slipping past your lips before you realized what you were doing. Rafe was always quick to forgive if you were quick to apologize.
“I know,” you heard and felt him murmur into your hair.
“Please, please don’t…”
You both knew what you were begging for, and he gently shushed you.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out again, repeating it as many times as you thought you should, hoping and praying that it was enough. “You have to know that…”
Your words died in the air at the sound of his voice.
“I should be angry with you…but I understand,” he softly told you. “You were scared, and you should’ve been.”
You sniffed, staring at the red and blue grass.
“I went too far, and you were right to be scared.”
Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, telling you the words that brought you temporary relief.
“I forgive you.”
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓
synopsis: how they react when they find out you’ve never had a date on valentine’s day
based on the prompt: “you’ve never had a valentine’s date?”
characters: diluc, kaeya, mona, zhongli, xiao, kujou sara, kazuha, itto, tighnari, cyno, and childe x gn! reader (separately)
warnings: fluff, a bit of angst in some of them, these are meant to be pre-relationship but you can interpret them how you want
notes: releasing this a day early because i know i’ll forget about it tomorrow lmao. also i was gonna do more for this than just a bullet scenario, but then i realized there was only like a week left until valentine’s when i wrote this so i couldn’t do anything big 😭 but i did really like this prompt so enjoy!
diluc:
his facial expression contorts into one of confusion as he wipes the inside of the glass in his hand
you’re sitting in front of him, legs crossed one over the other as they dangle over the barstool you’re on. your head rests in your hand innocently, as if what you had just said hadn’t affected you at all
you’ve never had a valentine’s date?
no. diluc just can’t accept it, at least, that’s what he decides as he puts the glass down and starts to remove his apron
before you know it, his hands are gripping yours, pulling you out the door and into the now sunset painted city you called your home
valentine’s wasn’t over yet, and diluc was sure as hell going to make sure you got that date
kaeya:
he laughs, his smile wide and his eyes teasing as he blinks through his tears
but then he sees the way you grimace and your eyes look anywhere but at him. he sees a sense nervousness and embarrassment wash over every inch of your face
he feels awful
kaeya hadn’t meant anything bad by his laughter. truthfully, he thought you were joking with him because, how could someone so utterly beautiful in every which way, someone so full of life, someone so perfect never have been asked on a date on valentines?
you were all he had ever wanted and more, and yet you weren’t even his
apologies come flying out of his mouth for a solid two minutes before you assure him it’s okay and, as expected, that stupid smirk appears on his face again
his hand is latching onto yours as he leans in close, asking you to join him on a date so he could make it up to you
and although he seems rather nonchalant on the outside, his heart is beating rapidly on the inside, begging you to accept so he could finally make you his
mona:
her mouth falls open at the sound of your response to the question
then it shuts…and then it opens again
meanwhile, you have to keep yourself from laughing too hard because of the way she currently resembles a fish
she huffs as she ignores your muffled laughter and tosses the pen she had been writing with to the side and gathers her papers on her desk
you’re still laughing, but her face is as serious and determined as ever
and before you know it, you were getting dragged out of her room and into yours. and your best friend tells you to get ready, as glammed up or as comfortable as you want
she was going to take you out on the best damn date of your life and maybe, just maybe, finally confess her feelings to you
zhongli:
his eyes widen in shock and he immediately sets his tea down to clasp his hands together
he’s silent, thinking carefully about what to say to your response to his question. honestly, he looks like someone had just murdered his grandma
deep down, he wants to ask why
but he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel bad never having a date on valentine’s
his hand aches to reach for yours and hold it tight in his. secure it with all his adoration and love for you, make you realize he’d do anything to take you on a date — valentines or otherwise
slowly, his eyes reach back up to meet yours and he stands, unclasping his hands and extending one out for you to hold
“if you do not mind, i would like to have the pleasure of being your first valentine’s date. and, perhaps if you enjoy it, you would consider allowing me to take you out again.”
xiao:
he scoffs — why were you even telling him this anyway? he didn’t even like valentine’s day so what does this have to do with him?
yet, he doesn’t miss the way his heart seems to skip a beat before pounding furiously against his chest
was he angry? upset? emotional? sad? he wasn’t sure but, whatever it was, it was not a good feeling
he masks whatever emotion it was and displays the most neutral expression he could come up with
because, no, xiao is not jealous and most definitely does not care
yet, as much as the adeptus claimed to hate valentine’s day, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit interested if it means he gets to spend the day with you
his eyes avoid yours and a small blush crosses his face as he offers a proposition:
“if you would like…maybe you could spend the day with me?”
kujou sara:
her arms cross as she leans sideways against the wall, staring directly at you as she scoffs
“who wouldn’t want to take you out on a date?”
shit
the general definitely did not mean to say that out loud
suddenly, she’s standing upright and stuttering left and right as you stand in front of her in shock
her hands are waving in front of her face sporadically as she desperately tries to explain herself
but then your silence turns into laughter and it feels like the world around her completely stops as you reassure her that it’s okay and that you’re actually quite flattered
embarrassed as she is, sara sighs and stares at anywhere but you, “i know it’s your favorite, so meet me at uyuu restaurant at 7 tonight. please don’t make me regret this.”
kazuha:
he offers a gentle smile and covers your hand in his own
“that’s okay, neither have i.”
you’re quick to ask him why, but he’s quick enough to ask you the same
you’re dumbfounded, but argue that you asked him first. and he explains, saying that he’s always preferred the wind and spending his time in nature rather than out on silly dates
and your eyes loose their shine a little, not only upset because you have to talk about the fact that no one had ever asked you on a valentine’s day before, but also because it meant you likely wouldn’t have the chance to ever go out with him
and he notices, because that’s just how kazuha is
“just because i said i don’t prefer to go on dates, doesn’t mean i don’t enjoy them. in fact, i would greatly appreciate it if you would join me at chinju forest later today. perhaps we could have a picnic and enjoy the scenery together?”
itto:
he gasps loudly, almost as if he’s in a horror movie and the killer just found him
it scares you at first, thinking that his sudden expression was not in reaction to your response, but then you realize itto was in fact reacting to you
it’s just his dramatic nature
his hand is over his heart and his eyes are shut, acting as if he’s in pain
“oh no! no, no, no! this just won’t do!”
and you laugh whole heartedly at him. a smile irresistibly tugs at your lips and your eyes are all wrinkled
and when you recover, itto’s looking at you with the brightest, most fondest look you think you’ve ever seen in your life
and it hits you: he was trying to make you laugh so that you wouldn’t feel bad
and then he’s all serious, but you can tell he’s really just nervous, “uh, hey listen, i can take you out…but only if you want! not that you have to or anything — no, no that would be uh…yeah!”
tighnari:
“valentine’s day is a rather trivial holiday. there’s no need to be so upset about never having had a date.”
your eyes fall to your hands as he says those words. not that he sees of course, seeing as he’s turned around at his desk, writing away at some papers
“yeah, no! i get it, you’re right,” you say. but your words don’t match your tone, and you hate how quick tighnari is to pick up on it
he sighs and turns around, still fiddling with the pen in his hand, but you don’t meet his eyes
you knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way, that’s just who he is, but you couldn’t help the hurt you felt when he spoke
and then he sighs again. although, this time a small, but genuine, smile graces his expression, “if a date is what will make you happy, then i would happily take some time off from work.”
cyno:
he’s hesitant to respond
not because he finds it appalling that you’ve never had a date on valentine’s day, but because he’s simply not well versed in relationships or emotional comfort in general
his eyes stay focused on the ground and his fingers tighten against the barrel of his polearm
he’s so quiet that you’re not even sure he heard your response
and he continues to think for a few more moments before huffing and just saying everything outright
overthinking wasn’t the mahamatra’s style
so he asks you out to dinner that night. not out of pity either, just simply because that’s what cyno wanted
sure he wasn’t a fan of the holiday, but his feelings for you are certainly enough to make him want to celebrate it
childe:
his hand is intertwined with yours as you walk together down the streets of liyue
“wait so, you’ve never had a valentine’s date before? as in, this is literally your first one ever?”
you don’t respond. instead, you stare at the buildings around you and all the other couples adorning the different restaurants and gift shops
childe isn’t stupid. he sees the way you get uncomfortable and instantly regrets making the comment
he speaks softly, “i’m honored, you know? besides, you couldn’t get a better first date than me.”
you’re slapping his arm in a matter of seconds, trying to hold back your laugh, but acting angry nonetheless
but then you’re laughing together and you realize, yeah, it really couldn’t get any better than him
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yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You
synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.
genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot
word count: 4.4k
warnings: implied stalking
Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!
You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.
But nope. Nothing.
Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.
‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.
As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.
“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.
⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️
Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?
The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.
"..."
Was this a porn ad?!
No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.
On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this.
Or
You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.
Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.
Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.
*****
You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.
8:02 a.m.
You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.
“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.
“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.
You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.
“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”
You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.
“And… you are?”
“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”
You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.
“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”
“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.
Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”
What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.
“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”
You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”
The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”
Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.
Not a prank.
And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.
“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”
“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”
Okay, gross but kind of sweet.
“May I come in?”
“Huh?”
“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”
“Oh, um… Suuuree-”
“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.
Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.
You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.
“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”
Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.
“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”
After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.
“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”
“Willing client?” you asked.
“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.
“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”
“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.
“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”
“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”
Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.
“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”
“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.
“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”
“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?”
“Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”
You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”
“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”
You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.
“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.
“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”
You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.
“Well, what do you think?”
“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”
“Would you like to meet him?”
“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”
“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”
The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”
Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”
“So, like 8 hours ago?”
“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”
“Hmm.”
“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”
You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.
“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”
“Huh?”
“Excuse me, my darling?”
“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”
The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.
“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.
“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”
He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”
*****
Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.
“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”
You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants!
The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!
“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.
After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!
“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.
“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.
“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.
“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”
“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”
Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”
You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.
Tap tap tap
Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.
Tap tap tap tap
It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?
Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap
You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.
“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.
‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’
He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.”
For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…
“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.
“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.
“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.
“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.
“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.
The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”
You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.
“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”
He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.
“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”
You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.
“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.
“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?
“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.
He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.
“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”
Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.
You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”
Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”
“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”
Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”
You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”
Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.
“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”
Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.
“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”
“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”
You are such a baby for flattery.
*****
“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.
Sitting in his lap.
And feeding each other.
“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”
“I see…” he said hesitantly.
“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”
“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.
“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.
“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”
Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”
And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”
“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”
You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”
“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”
“Mhm.”
“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”
“Yes sir.”
The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.
---
a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.
Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.
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