Thorns Of Love | Yandere X Reader

flaws with perfection

requested by stfu_Nour!

just a heads up, i know nothing about ballet, so sorry in advance if i made any false infos about ballet!

sorry if this seems rushed!

(fem reader)

.

you're a ballet dancer.

you're often described by others as beautiful, kind, and intelligent. you almost fit the description of perfection itself. you have everything, you have the looks, the wealth, everything anyone could ever imagine.

you chose to do ballet because it's like you're a natural at it, almost feel like you're born to do ballet!

your father, however, thinks that you're still lacking. you're perfect at ballet yes, but he says that there's something... "missing". it's as if you're lacking something.

and so, your father hired the most famous ballet teacher, with the intention to make you even more perfect.

but you think that's bullshit.

now you're standing inside your father's office, with the ballet instructor beside him. you give the tall man a glare, as if telling him that this was all his fault. you didn't need an instructor to guide you through something you're perfectly capable of doing it by yourself! you've been doing ballet alone since forever for fuck's sake!

"this is adrian, y/n." your father stated, looking at you with cold, strict eyes. "he will be your ballet instructor from now on, i believe he will help you enhance your ballet skills."

you were opposed to the idea. "but father-"

"enough. i am helping you, my child. i want you to be perfect just like you wanted." he leaned closer and kisses you on the forehead. he knows  you can't go against your own father when he's like this, when he's acting like a loving, doting father who actually cares for you.

you have no choice but to oblige to his wishes. he's just doing what's best for you. "..yes, father." he's doing what's best for you, y/n.

he smiles at your obedience. "good. adrian, you may start tomorrow."

.

you eyed at your instructor with doubts and suspicions, though it says in his resumé that he's 25 years old.. it's hard to believe he looks extremely youthful and handsome for someone that's 8 years older than you.

"focus, miss y/n." with that, you crane your head straight ahead and fixed your posture immediately. he stares at you for a moment before positioning your arms and legs at an angle that feels wrong to you. "i heard that you were perfect at this, but i wonder why you stand like that when it's just basic ballet posture?" 

something in you breaks. 

you.. you've been doing it wrong this entire time?

"but sir-"

"heads up, straighten your back, and don't talk." he held your head up, your back straightened, and your mouth shut. you heard him sigh. "looks like we'll start from the top. judging from your posture alone, i already know you've been doing everything wrong."

it was hell training with him. his hands were always on you, he's mean, he doesn't give you any breaks, and you wanted to burst into your father's office and throw a tantrum to please, please fire him father!

but guess what? you're just gonna suck it up. you have to. you need this training to be perfect. because that's what you always were. you used to be perfect, flawless, no sign of any imperfection. until adrian came and had the nerve to spit insults after insults, saying that there's nothing in you that screams perfect, and that everything you did for the last 12 years was wrong.

you heard another gut-wrenching sigh of his. a reminder that you did something imperfect again. "miss y/n, how many times must i tell you that," his left hand slithers under your thigh again, and you were too used and tired of his uncomfortably close proximity. "this is the right position." he raises your leg a little higher.

"my apologies," you tiredly breathed out half-heartedly. "i guess i've been doing it my way that it became default for me." you sucked in a breath. "can we please be done for today? i'm exhausted."

"..very well." you let out a long sigh you didn't know you were holding.

.

you're absolutely perfect.

perfect, perfect, perfect.

god, you're so perfect.

he stares at you with half lidded eyes as you stretch your limbs.

you're trying so hard and doing your best to be the most flawless girl for him.

ah..

you're truly adorable.

from the moment he saw you dance, before he became your ballet instructor, he fell madly in love with you. he couldn't find any flaws on your movements. you were simply.. to perfect for the eyes that laid upon you. too perfect for this polluted earth that you didn't deserve to be born in.

why did your father say all those terrible things about you? you're not perfect? it's not enough? you're not good enough? you aren't trying hard enough to be his perfect little daughter?

maybe i ought to kill him.

he thinks as he held your unconscious body closer to his, you look like an angel that fell from heaven. perhaps, maybe you are? you're snoring so softly yet cutely. oh, darling he just wants to squeeze you until your eyes pop out of your head.

his eyes gazed over the water bottle you just dropped.

couldn't you feel the tingly substance going down your throat?

well, it doesn't matter now.

because even if there are some flaws in you, he'll still love you no matter what.