Yandere loser x Reader [GN]
Everyone loves a yearning yandere, but what about one who genuinely cannot get anything right? poor guy tries so hard to impress you, only to fumble it every single time.
Yandere loser who absolutely cannot believe the fact that you out of all people agreed to date him and spends the first week waiting for you to realize it was a mistake.
Yandere loser overhears someone making a joke about you It’s not even that serious. You laughed it off yourself, but he didn’t.
He spends the next two hours pacing in his room, rehearsing lines like he’s preparing for a courtroom drama instead of a hallway confrontation.
He finally approaches the guy the next day, heart hammering like it’s trying to escape his ribcage.
“h-hey. don’t— um. don’t say things about them.”
“…what?”
He freezes, every rehearsed line evaporates like morning mist.
“they’re… they’re very nice,” he blurts out, voice cracking.
The guy just stares at him, confused, maybe a little amused, and walks away.
He stands there, fists clenched, convinced he just defended your honor like some tragic knight.
(he did not)
Later, when you realize his intentions and thank him for “standing up” for you (for the sake of making him feel better), he nearly ascends.
Yandere loser who read somewhere that a little jealousy is attractive except nothing about his jealousy is little.
so when he sees you talking to someone else, he decides to act “cool” about it.
Arms crossed, leaning against a wall, casual.
except he’s not casual.
he’s gripping his own arm so tightly his knuckles turn white, he hates it but is scared of saying anything. What if you think he is controlling and try to leave? What would he even do without you?
You walk over to him eventually.
“hey! you’ve been quiet.”
“…just observing.” he replies in a tone clearing showing how upset he is.
observing???
He immediately regrets it.
you raise an eyebrow. “observing what?”
“…the trees.”
THE TREES???
he wants to evaporate.
later, he writes in his notes app:
do not say “the trees” again.
Yandere loser who practices smiling in the mirror because you once said, “you should smile more.”
that sentence lives rent-free in his brain forever.
so now he stands in front of his mirror at 2 a.m.
trying.
smile #1: too wide, looks unhinged. rejected. smile #2: too small, looks like he’s plotting something. rejected. smile #3: shows teeth, he immediately panics and drops it.
The next day, he finally tries it on you.
You say something mildly funny, and he forces the “perfect” smile he practiced.
it lingers just a second too long.
“…are you okay?” you ask.
“…yes.”
he goes home and avoids mirrors for the rest of the week.
Yandere loser who, after digging through your search history and skimming your messages, comes to a horrifying realization: you have a type and it is not him.
You like the cool ones atleast that's what your tumblr history says.
The ones with that careless edge. leather jackets, tattoos, maybe a motorcycle. The kind of guys who look like they’ve never once second-guessed themselves.
He stares at his reflection for a long time after that. Then, very quietly, he decides he can fix this.
The next time you see him, something feels… off.
He’s standing there, trying very hard to look like he belongs in a completely different life and in his hand is a cigarette, held stiffly between his fingers like it’s a prop he doesn’t know how to use.
you blink.
“…since when do you smoke?”
your tone is all confusion, because this is him. the same guy who looks like he’d apologize to a chair for bumping into it.
he nods once, too quickly.
“i do.”
the confidence is fragile. paper-thin.
(if you had asked one more question, you would’ve watched the entire act crumble instantly)
He had no idea where to even buy cigarettes. he checked multiple shops before realizing they weren’t just… everywhere. By the time he made it to a gas station, he was already panicking.
“can i have a cigarette?”
the cashier stared.
“…what kind?”
he blanked.
“um… the normal one?”
“…brand?”
silence.
“…whichever is good?”
Back in front of you, he brings it up to his lips, trying to mimic something he’s only ever seen other people do.
He lights it with shaky hands, for half a second, it almost works.
then he inhales, and everything falls apart.
He coughs immediately, violently, like his body is personally offended. His shoulders hunch, his eyes water, and he nearly drops the cigarette as he struggles to breathe through it.
This is not a cool cough, this is a full system failure.
he looks at you in panic, like you might have the answer to this extremely predictable problem.
you step closer, thumping his back a few times.
“hey— slow down, breathe.”
Usually, even that much contact would have him flustered beyond repair.
Right now, he is too busy trying not to die.
(it is completely undeniably he had to look up a tutorial just to figure out how to light it, he almost lit the wrong end. But hey! atleast he got you thumping his back and offering words of comfort.)