Call Me Yours (Yandere x Reader Oneshots)

M. Yandere x F. Stalker

It wasn't her intention. Really, it wasn't. But when the extremely handsome foreign exchange student just happened to drop his sketchbook, was she supposed to pass it by? No, really, when thinking back on it, she began to panic, fearful of being caught. As the book sat on her desk in her room, far from where she had found it in her history classroom, she cowered, on the verge of tears. Was she going to be arrested for taking the male's personal item without his permission?

The (h/c) haired girl twisted her hair around her finger, on the verge of chewing her fingernails. She didn't want to go to jail! Fearful of her situation, she began to pace around her room, letting herself cry just a bit before swiftly composing herself. She took in a deep breath and shivered before exhaling for as long as she could. It was then that she decided that it was necessary to clear her fears. The answer was simple! She would return the sketchbook the next day, pretending as though he dropped it accidentally! Yes, that would work!

Finally relieved of her building tension, she sat back down at her desk. She then began to stare at the leather covering of the book, wondering what was within it that made her want to steal it so badly. A common pickpocket, it had made her. So, at the very least, she should be able to allow herself the simple pleasure of looking into its contents. Lifting the cover after unwinding the twine covering, she let the textured pages sift through her curious fingers delicately.

Her eyes shimmered as she noted the craftsmanship within the pages. The male wasn't just handsome, it seemed. He was more talented than she could have ever guessed. Perhaps he dreamed of becoming a famous painter. With the watercolors and different techniques used, the pages all blended together beautifully. She loved each depiction of flowers and butterflies, something the male seemed to cherish deeply. Was there an underlying reason for that appreciation of specifics? She so desperately wanted to know.

Then she discovered the neat writing involved in the journal. With small quotes or excerpts of obscure books, the girl wondered over his personal attachment to each individual choice. It appeared he used his sketchbook not only to create pieces of art and scenery but also to organize his thoughts. At the thought, the girl's eyes softened, her forming attachment to him only wanting to further into unknown territory. She wanted to know if he had another journal or perhaps a diary - if he even had such a thing - which handled his true thoughts, not just copied excerpts.

So she spent the rest of the night, attempting to piece together such quotes and art to formulate her own speculations on his true thoughts. And with each breakthrough she made in her attempts to decipher it, she became more and more enthralled with the thought of the male she had stolen from. She didn't even sleep, surprised at the sudden appearance of the sun in the sky when morning came about. Fearful of being late and missing her chance to see the male, she quickly readied herself, placing the sketchbook carefully in her bag to ensure no damage became of it.

On the bus, she held tightly onto her headphones, allowing the music to flood in her head to drown out the rest of her surroundings. Even within the school's perimeters, she let it block out everything else. It wasn't as though she had people waiting for her there, her attitude more so lonesome than that of a social butterfly. So, when forcibly placed in a sea of people she had little desire to interact with, music seemed the best option available to her. At least, it was until she saw him.

Her cheeks flared pink as he came into her line of sight. It absolutely wasn't fair! The male was so astoundingly attractive. With a completely different and exotic hair color than any of those around her. The purest blonde hair color she had ever seen combined with emerald-like eyes and a beauty mark placed just under his right eye, it was as though he was designed to make her stop and stare. However, at the thought that she could be caught staring at him in such a manner, she immediately flared red and turned away.