Favorite Fixation (Yandere boys x Reader)

82.) Erotomania

(Y/n) stirred awake to the sensation of soft hands smoothing down her hair. Her eyes fluttered open, though her vision was still speckled with dots. For a moment, everything around her felt blurred, like she was caught in a dream. But then she registered the person beside her. the purple haired boy cradling her gently against his chest, the bathroom light casting a soft glow on the both of them.

"Shh," he whispered when he saw her waking, rocking her slowly in his arms. His touch was deliberate and soothing, as if he'd been doing this for hours. The subtle back-and-forth sway grounded her, quieting the storm that had been raging in her mind earlier.

Beside him was a damp cloth, which he used every now and then to wipe the sweat from her brow. The cool touch of the cloth was a small comfort, and without thinking, (Y/n) leaned into his hands, craving the warmth and gentleness he offered.

The boy frowned slightly at her reaction, his violet eyes dark with something that felt too heavy for his young face. He cupped her cheeks in his hands, holding her gaze with a tenderness that surprised her. His thumb brushed along her cheekbone, smoothing away stray hairs that had stuck to her damp skin.

"He never should've done all that to you..." he whispered, his voice low but filled with frustration, as if the words weighed heavily on his tongue.

(Y/n) blinked, trying to make sense of his words. Who was 'he'? Her brows furrowed in confusion, but before she could ask, the purple haired boy gently pressed her closer to him, as if shielding her from the memories she couldn't access.

"The pain won't last, darling," he promised in a near-whisper. "You just have to get over this hump. Then it all will stop."

His words were soft, almost like a lullaby, but there was an edge of truth to them that made her heart ache. (Y/n) tilted her head up to look at him, her voice weak and shaky. "Then what will stop?"

He sighed deeply, his expression heavy with regret. "The withdrawal," he admitted, petting the back of her head gently, his fingers combing through the knots in her hair with surprising care.

Withdrawal.

The word hit her like a brick, making her stomach churn all over again. This was what the past hours - or days? - had been leading up to. The tremors, the sweating, the itching beneath her skin all made sense now.

Before the panic could settle in again, the boy pulled her closer and rested his chin lightly atop her head, as if anchoring her. "You'll be spending the day with me today," he said softly, his tone changing with an air of declaration, almost as if he'd decided it was non-negotiable.

Then, with surprising ease, he slipped his arms under her legs and back, lifting her off the cold bathroom tiles in a smooth motion. She blinked in surprise but didn't resist as he held her securely in his arms, carrying her like she weighed nothing.

"I need your help in choosing fabrics," he said, as if they hadn't just been sitting on a bathroom floor moments ago, as if the conversation about withdrawal never happened. The casualness of his statement was oddly comforting, like a distraction she didn't know she needed.

"Fabrics?" she echoed weakly, her mind struggling to catch up.

He glanced down at her, giving her a small, almost mischievous smile. "You'll see."

(Y/n) rested her head against his shoulder, feeling strangely safe in his arms, even though she still couldn't remember his name. It didn't seem to matter. There was something about the way he carried her - careful, protective - that told her she didn't need to know everything right now.

He stepped out of her room and into the hallway, his movements fluid and quiet, like he'd done this many times before. Just next door, he stopped at a room with the door slightly ajar, nudging it open with his foot.