#yandere x reader | dyingrosesandwriting (2024)

Home (Yandere x Reader)

Word count: ~2100

“I can’t believe I wrote this.” Muttered a quiet voice in the dark.

“I mean, this is so repetitive and boring!” Exclaimed the figure in the dark, obscured by a blanket thrown over herself, light from her device creating a silhouette visible from the window. Not like anyone would see, or at least that was what you thought.

However, you were very wrong, as unbeknownst to you, a male sat right outside your window. He was cloaked in shadows and a hoodie, while wearing a grin on his face. As the unknown male peered through your window, you got out of the tent of sheets and walked out of your room to the hall.

“Now’s my chance” muttered your stalker with a chuckle, as he started picking the your window lock.

You stood in your bathroom, brushing your teeth, when you heard a noise come from your room, shaking, you put your toothbrush back and went inside to investigate.

“Hello?” You called out, your voice cracking. Your feet felt like they were freezing on the floorboards.

“I have a weapon you know!” You shouted, trying to intimidate whatever had intruded your house. You did in fact have a weapon, which meant if worse came to worse, you could probably fight back.

You opened your bedroom door, heart pumping so hard it resonated through your whole body, only to find... Nothing unusual.

You searched through any places that an intruder could hide, behind your cabinets, behind your door, under your bed, and now your closet, the only place left, you had already armed yourself with a kitchen knife and a torch, and with a deep breath you swung open the tall door.

You gasped as you saw a man in front of you, he gave you a smile as you froze up, and spoke with a sickly sweet voice,

“Aww, you found me, babe!” He stepped out of your racks of clothes, revealing his tall, looming figure and something in his hands.

You tried to run, use your weapon, do anything, but fear had petrified you to your spot, and now you were being held down by the man as he held that thing in his hands to your mouth. You realised only too late that it was a chloroform rag as you started to fall unconscious. “Shhhh,” He hushed.

“It’s going to be alright...”

///

“Hey baby, I was wondering when you’d wake up!” Exclaimed a voice from... somewhere.

Yoy couldn’t seem to see until you had blinked a bit, but even then you disregarded the voice and tried to stretch your arms, trying to shake off the tendrils of sleepiness. But to your horror you couldn’t move your arms much at all. You looked around to try and find the cause of it, when you spotted that man from last night sitting at the edge of what was definitely not your bed.

"Did he actually kidnap me?" You thought, your mind started racing with questions, "What’s he going to do to me?" "Am I going to die?" "Why me?" Your thoughts were cut off though as he spoke again.

“Are you ignoring me babe?” He asked,

“You know that won’t end well. For either of us.” He whispered in your ear, causing goose bumps to erupt over your neck.

“Why am I here?” You squeaked out, holding back tears. The man noticed your fear and started rubbing your cheek despite your obvious discomfort, “You’re here," He paused, "Because I love you.”

“W-what?” You gasped out.

“I have loved you since we first met, in seventh grade, you helped me out all the time!”

“Remember?”

He stared at you expectantly, but you couldn’t remember him, you graduated a year ago, but you'd suppressed those memories long ago.

The man looked familiar though, not with a comforting sense of familiarity, instead with a deep seeded fear, like he’d been responsible for the ‘incident' at the end of seventh grade.

“You don’t remember me?” He asked her, his voice shaky and uneven. You were just about to answer when he’d started screaming,

“You f*cking bitch! How could you forget me! We’re soulmates, or are you too much of a whor* to remember that?”

All of his shouting had driven you to the point of tears, not like you weren't probably already going to cry. You had tried to hold them back but they flowed across your cheeks as you sobbed quietly, willing your captor to not notice them in fear of being hurt.

“I’m sorry...” He stated calmly, although you could hear his heavy breaths, and stared into your eyes as he started to stroke through your hair. You thought of slapping his hand away but thought of the consequences, and that you couldn’t move your hands.

“I should of known you'd forgotten, seventh grade was pretty traumatic." He sighed, but you felt like he was involved in that trauma.

“I guess I should reintroduce myself then,” He added, with a peck to your blotchy red cheek.

“My name’s Blake.”

“And you babe, helped me out when no one else would!” He shifted off the bed and grabbed a photo album, “Every single day I was tormented by those f*cking bastards,” He seemingly struggled to keep his voice level.

“But you always saved me afterwards!” He added with a wide smile and opened up the album to a page full of photos of you, some were from behind, some were seemingly consensual, and others had been taken while you were asleep, and all of them made you incredibly uncomfortable.

You decided to just nod along.

“Did you ever even question why everyone hated me?”

“N-no.”

Blake chuckled and answered. “All of them made a fit just because I followed you home one day,” You felt bile crawl up your throat as your stomach began to turn.

“I was only following you to protect you from those creeps!”

“But, y’ know I taught them all a lesson babe.”

Blake's words had proved exactly what you were dreading.

He’d been responsible for the 'incident' in seventh grade.

///

I stood in front of the school bathroom mirror, freshening up before I’d head out with my boyfriend, or whatever we were now.

I'd confessed to him yesterday and he said he’d liked me too, although not as long as I had, so we'd decided to date.

After about five minutes I finished brushing my hair for the third time today and headed outside the main gate to meet him, but he wasn’t there.

After standing there and looking in every direction, I checked my phone; nothing.

I sent him a text:

where r u???

Sent

I waited ten minutes for a reply, but nothing, not even a ‘seen’. I started to search around, asking the kids who where still hanging around if they’d seen him. A group of them said they’d seen him following another dude through the hall,

“Great,” I thought, “he’s just gonna cop out on me before the first date.”

I figured I should at least find him and tell him my frustration if he wasn’t going to read my texts, so I headed towards the gym, presumably where one of his team members had probably dragged him off to.

As I walked through the hall towards the gym I heard a strange noise; Something muffled.

I quietly stepped towards the door it was coming from, the storage closet, and listened.

“So what did you drag me here for?” Someone asked.

“You took something from me,” Someone else answered back.

“What did I take?” The first person asked, the smugness feeling very familiar.

“YOU f*ckING KNOW!” Roared back the other person. Fearing things were gonna get ugly, I tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. I looked around for anyone, but the halls were empty. It must’ve been way past the end bell now so the only people left were in their clubs.

I had one choice: to try stop this while I could.

I prepared myself and rammed the door with my shoulder with all my strength.

First try; it didn’t budge.

Second try; Something smashed in the closet.

Third try; if this didn’t work I’d need to go get help.

But thankfully, it did.

But I wouldn't be so thankful soon.

Just as the door busted open, I saw it. The beaten body of my boyfriend and a tall, dark figure grasping a baseball bat hunched over him.

I tried to reach out to him but the man grabbed my wrist, twisted it, and pushed me to the ground. Through the pain I held back tears as I tried to get up, but what I saw next had me begging for the blurry censorship my tears provided.

I got up, but before I ran for someone to break this up, I tried to punch this psycho while he resumed to beating my boyfriend to a pulp with his bat.

Instead however, he turned right around as my fist collided with his back and struck my shins with his bat, the residual pain keeping me on my knees after the initial strike.

“No, no, you’re gonna watch this,” A voice too deranged to recognise muttered.

He continued to senselessly beat the barely alive mess of flesh, blood and bone that was once my boyfriend into a pulp.

“It’s all for you after all.”

///

“No! No no no no no!” You cried in shock and terror.

“Oh, but yes!” He replied in a mockingly jolly tone, “You have no idea how f*cking great it felt to crush that insect of a boyfriend!” He added, licking his lips and thinking with a nostalgic look on his face.

“Just... Why?”

“Why? Isn’t it obvious?”

“I told you already; I love you.”

“I just want you all to myself, tied up and away from all the f*cking perves that want you for themselves.” Blake held you tightly in his arms, you knew better than to squirm.

“S-so you wanted them to hate me?” You cried in confusion.

“Well... It certainly wasn’t part of the plan, but how could you have a relationship if everyone thought you killed your last boyfriend?”

“How could you not fall for me? The clumsy but charming guy of your dreams, who was always there?” He asked staring deep into your eyes.

“I mean seriously, how couldn’t you?!” He raised his voice, “I WAS ALWAYS THERE, BUT ALL YOU DID WAS IGNORE ME AND PLAN ON LEAVING THIS ‘DUMPSTER OF A TOWN’!” he continued, voice now booming in the small room.

Your eyes immediately dilated and your palms began to sweat, tears pricking at your eyes once again.

“YOU'VE BEEN TRYING FOR YEARS, f*ckING YEARS, TO LEAVE ME!”

“W-why?” He’d finally calmed down, and started almost crying himself, the sight made you feel an uncomfortable mix of smug and sorry.

No.

He's a murderer.

“I couldn’t live with the harassment anymore.” You started calmly, hoping you wouldn’t flare up his anger.

“Didn’t you want me to be happy?” You asked.

“But I need you to be happy.” He responded weakly.

You remained silent and decided to take a closer look at the room you were stuck in.

You were currently laying on a queen sized bed, with three layers of blankets and plain blue sheets.

The walls of the room were painted the same blue as the sheets, though it was hard to tell at first due to photos of you and posters covering most of the area.

"The room must be Blake's," You thought. "Which means..." Your stomach turned at the thought.

You'd have to sleep with this psycho.

And then what would happen?

He would push himself onto you, and you'd either have to accept it, or... You didn't want to think about what he'd do to you.

His threats when you didn't acknowledge him, the fact that he broke into your home and kidnapped you, and...

What he did to your boyfriend.

And how he enjoyed the aftermath of fear and bullying towards you. He stood by as people made your life a living hell. Because they thought you were a criminal, a murderer that was about to get what they deserved.

Maybe they were right. You did kill him. Who knows how many other deaths you were responsible for?

No.

He killed him. Blake did.

And all of this, that's what'll clear your name once you escape wherever this psycho is keeping you.

"W-where are we?" Your voice came out softer and meeker than you'd like, but maybe that would help. Get him to believe you were just scared and worried, though you really were.

The male sat in front of you, shaking a small amount.

"Home."

Uh, so this is kinda old, but then I added onto it and rewrote it to be x reader. I was mega hyped for this blog when I started writing this, even making a Pinterest board for this character, but I never actually described his appearance, and personality wise he is a pissbaby.

Bruh, my first draft on this account made realise I changed his name from Joey to Blake.

Edit: I f*cking forgot to change his name once and used third person phrasing instead of second person in one part. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa