𝕴 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 (Yandere!Male! x Yandere!Reader!)

𝖎𝖛

(Y/n) had awoken from her short five hour nap grudgingly, and with a headache. She stared blankly at the ceiling above her, thinking about Jaime. Something about his eyes called out to her, it had a tight hold on her.  Something about him as a whole, not just his eyes. Why was she feeling this way? In her short, lonely life, she had never developed feelings for someone, much less fallen in love. Could this be it? 

(Y/n) rolled over to her side, sighing. She couldn't be in love, it wasn't possible. Her father would likely kill her. Uncomfortable pain appeared as her stomach growled.

I should probably eat something.

Begrudgingly, she peeled herself away from her comfy, warm bed sheets, sneaking as quietly as she could into the kitchen to grab a bite. 

"Not even a hello when you enter?"

That voice made the hair on (y/n)'s neck stand.

"You think you're too good to greet your own father?"

(Y/n) was slapped across the face. The impact sent the girl falling to the ground as the strong scent of liquor filled her nostrils.

"H-Hi dad.." she squeaked.

"Stand up." He growled. He threw the glass in his hand in front of (y/n)'s feet.

(Y/n) shakingly rose, her father's eyes never leaving. Standing in front of him was the spitting image of his late wife. He felt an overwhelming disgust from deep in his gut, and with all his force, threw a punch at his own daughter which forced her on the ground yet again.

(Y/n) was shaking uncontrollably at this point, tears streaming down her eyes. She was scared, terrified. She hated that this man, she despised him, she wished him dead.

"Stand up."

(Y/n) was frozen, she couldn't move even if she wanted.

"Stand up." He repeated

(Y/n) stood up, not only light headed from this mans beating, but from the little food she had consumed in the day. The man's last punch left her on the ground for the final time, slipping her into unconsciousness. Content with his display of parenting, the man spit on the ground and removed himself from the room.

(Y/n)'s eyes slowly fluttered open. The headache and pain she had earlier was now throbbing unforgivingly, now with the new sensations of soreness and sharp pain. She crawled to her room, crawling further to her bathroom. She held herself up, looking at the broken, barely human staring back. 

Is school even a good idea tomorrow?

She patched herself the best she could. After the death of her mother, the beatings had stopped. There was always the drunk father, however. It was as if him taking the life of his wife satiated his need for violence. She first thought it might have been guilt, but that was as unprobeable as him getting sober. When the beatings started again, she wished nonstop with every ounce of her being to be saved from her hell. As time grudgingly passed, the probability of her wish becoming reality diminished. It was only when she grew that she had realized even if she had told the proper authorities, it would be meaningless. They would always take his side, there was no escape for her.

(Y/n) crawled back in her bed, still hungry and in pain. Tears raced down her cheeks as she wrapped herself in her blankets. She still felt like that little girl who prayed and wished every nigh that her dad be turned good overnight. That she would wake up one morning to her mom making breakfast and her dad greeting her with love rather than pain.

If a loving family is too much to ask, please, just please, can someone save me from this hell. I'll give up anything.

~

A typical morning for Russel was simple: wake up early enough to spend part of his morning with (Y/n). He had just set foot on the nearly empty school campus and he was already eagerly walking toward their spot. Upon entering, the sight of her peacefully sleeping carved a smile on his face. He quietly made his way over, sitting next to her but being careful to not awaken her from her sleep. He stared at her features. Her soft hair, her plump lips, her warm skin. 

God, she is so beautiful. I wonder, how would her skin feel on mine if I peeled it off?

His fingers grazed her cheek, prompting her to open her eyes from his warm touch. 

"Hey you."

She moved from her position, switching to being in between Russel's legs and arms, and pressing her face into his chest. One thing that always brought her comfort was the feeling of Russel's warm body wrapped around hers. She especially loved the way he smelled-- it was intoxicating. There's nothing that made her feel safer than this; being in Russel's arms is the safest she's ever felt in her whole life. Although she knew nothing of love, she knew the closest she could compare it to is the feeling she has whenever she's around Russel. She wished she could stay in his arms forever, that she never had to go back to her personal hell, but she knew she alone could never escape that prison. 

Tears swelled up in her eyes as she tightly gripped onto the back of the male's shirt. Feeling the sudden shift, Russel held her tighter.

"Hey, what's wrong? (Y/n), talk to me," he softly pleaded.

She wanted to come clean with everything. She wanted to tell Russel how she felt trapped, how she felt defeated and lonely, how her father treats her and what he did to her mother. She wanted to scream, she wanted to beg him to take her somewhere far away, to protect her from the hell she found herself imprisoned in. But she couldn't, she couldn't impose such a heavy burden on his sweet shoulders. All she could do is cry.

Russel lifted her chin, lovingly wiping her tears, mistakenly wiping off her foundation.

"Who hit you?" The male perked up, his whole body tensing.

"What? No one hit me," she responded, averting her gaze.

"Then how did you get this bruise on your eye? It looks fresh," he questioned. "(Y/n), if something is going on tell me, I can help you," he pleaded. "Let me help you." Russel pushed, taking hold of her hands.

"Nothing is going on Russel, I promise. I just, I just fell that's all. It was pretty nasty, I was trying to climb this tree in my backyard and instead fell in a bed of rocks face first," she explained with a laugh, attempting to soften the atmosphere. 

"Then.. Why are you crying?"

"I just.. feel really bad about yesterday. It's not your fault you don't know anything about my family when I'm the one who refuses to share. It wasn't fair of me to take that out on you and just dump all that on you. You didn't deserve that, and I'm so sorry Russel. I hope you can forgive me," she replied, beginning to wipe away her own tears with her sleeve.

Russel knew deep down this wasn't the reason she was crying. He knew she was lying about her fall. He couldn't think of a reason why she couldn't tell him. Simultaneously, he also understood very well the person his best friend was. 

She will tell me in her own time. I shouldn't pressure her to tell me at this moment, if I do it might push her away.

"(Y/n), don't worry about it, I promise. If I hadn't pushed you so much to answer a question you obviously weren't comfortable answering, the whole thing would have never happened. You shouldn't be the one apologizing when I was the one who pushed you to that point," he cupped her cheek with his hand, locking his eyes with hers, "(Y/n), I'm sorry, I'll forever trust that you will tell me things in your own time. I promise." 

"Russell.." She wrapped her arms around him once again. "It's not your fault, please don't apologize you've done nothing wrong."

Russel smiled, slightly pulling her off to lock eyes with her once again. 

"Truce?"

(Y/n) smiled, finally at a point where her tears ceased. 

"Truce."

Russel leaned back against the wall, stretching his arms above his head.

"What do you think of getting food at the new sushi/ramen place across the street? I've heard their ramen is amazing." Russel suggested.

"Okay okay. Ramen it is."