Yandere Delinquent x Reader
⤷ TW: yandere themes, obsession, toxic attachment, threats of violence, and self-harm.
You didn’t expect the most feared delinquent in school to confess his feelings to you.
In fact, you didn’t even expect him to know you existed.
Everyone knew the rumors about Rian. He was the school’s living legend, the guy who supposedly sent three seniors from another school to the hospital without even breaking a sweat. People swore he took a broken bottle to the face during a fight behind the train station without even flinching. He was tall, with a sharp, lean build and a permanent scowl that could stop a teacher mid-sentence. His reputation was so intense that students actively cleared a path in the hallways whenever they saw his messy dark hair coming their way.
You were just a regular, average student. You went to class, hung out with your small circle of friends during lunch, and complained about the upcoming exams like everyone else. You weren't a social outcast, but you certainly weren't popular either. You were just perfectly content blending into the background of a crowded room.
Which is exactly why you were standing there in absolute disbelief, trapped against the rusty metal railing of the old rooftop stairwell where you had just gone to skip the noisy hallway crowd during break.
Your brain completely stopped working. Out of pure reflex, you reached down and aggressively pinched your own thigh through your uniform skirt, praying that you were just having a very weird, stress-induced nightmare. Ouch. No. The sharp sting proved you were wide awake. You were definitely awake, and the school's most notorious bad boy had his hand planted firmly against the concrete wall right next to your ear, breathing like he had just run a marathon.
"I like you," Rian growled. His voice was naturally a low, gravelly rasp that usually meant someone was about to get hurt. But right now, it was trembling. He thrust a slightly squished paper bag into your chest. "Date me. Please."
Through the top of the bag, you could see a hot strawberry crepe from the expensive bakery near the station, the one that always has a two-hour waiting line.
You looked at his split knuckles, then at the terrifying intensity in his dark eyes, and your survival instincts completely took over.
God, please don't make me regret this.
"Okay," you said, your voice remarkably steady despite the racing pulse in your throat. "We can try dating."
The change was instantaneous.
His jaw dropped. The scary glare in his eyes cracked, completely replaced by a wide, watery layer of pure shock. A fierce, burning red rushed up his throat, turning his face, his ears, and even the back of his neck a dark, bruised crimson.
He stumbled backward, his heavy sneakers tripping over his own feet on the concrete step. He clutched his own chest with both hands, his breathing turning shallow, frantic, and pathetic.
"Y-You said yes?" he choked out, his deep voice cracking into a high, trembling squeak. He looked like he was about to faint right onto the stairs. "You're not telling me to die? I practiced this in the mirror for three weeks because I thought you'd throw the crepe at my face."
"Rian, you need to breathe," you said, taking a cautious step forward because he genuinely looked like he was losing oxygen.
"Don't look at me!" he whined, quickly covering his flushed face with his massive, uniform-clad arms, his broad shoulders shaking violently as he hid from you. He was a tall, intimidating guy, but right now, he looked like a terrified puppy that had just been handed a treat and didn't know how to process it. "Your eyes are too close. If you look at me while I'm crying, my heart is going to burst open. I'll literally die right here."
You stared at him, the squished paper bag still heavy in your hands. He was still hiding his face behind his arms, his ears burning a violent red, occasionally peeking through his fingers to make sure you hadn't vanished. The sheer absurdity of the school’s fiercest fighter melting into a puddle of nerves over a simple "yes" was almost comical. You awkwardly cleared your throat, offered a small goodbye, and slipped down the rooftop stairs, leaving the legendary delinquent leaning against the rusty railing, clutching his chest like a Victorian maiden.
By eight o'clock the next morning, your choice to date him out of fear turned into a completely different kind of nightmare.
You couldn't even reach the school gates without his massive shadow blocking the sun. Rian was waiting by the concrete pillar, his uniform blazer unbuttoned, revealing a glimpse of his lean frame. He had a white band-aid over his cheekbone, but the moment his eyes found you in the crowd of students, the tough, scary delinquent completely vanished.
He scrambled over, his long legs moving with a clumsy, frantic eagerness. In his arms, he was carrying three separate, brightly colored insulated lunch bags.
"I made lunch," he blurted out, his deep voice dropping into a soft, nervous rumble as he fell into step right next to you. He pulled himself as close to your side as possible, his shoulder vibrating with nervous energy, though he kept a careful two-inch gap so his sleeve wouldn't disrespectfully brush against yours. "I didn't know if you liked sweet egg or pork cutlet today, so I made both. And I bought the exact milk tea you got from the vending machine last Tuesday. The one with the green cap."
You stopped walking, staring up at him. "Rian, that was a week ago. I don't even remember buying that. How do you even know that?"
Rian froze. The soft, nervous pink in his cheeks instantly drained, leaving him a terrifyingly hollow shade of pale. His wide, dark pupils dilated so much that his eyes looked almost entirely black. He looked straight at your throat, his thick eyelashes fluttering with a frantic, wet panic.
"I notice everything," he whispered, his knuckles turning a bloodless white as he gripped the lunch bags closer to his chest. "I know which classroom windows you look out of when you're bored. I know you walk exactly three paces behind your friends when you're tired. I know everything. I have to know, or my head feels like it's going to crack open."
You took a small step back, the air suddenly feeling very heavy. "Rian, that's a bit creepy."
The second the word creepy left your mouth, his entire frame fractured from the inside out. He didn't get angry. He didn't step toward you. Instead, he dropped heavily onto his knees right on the concrete sidewalk, ignoring the students who stopped to stare at the school's most feared predator begging in the dirt. He grabbed the very bottom hem of your school skirt, his fingers twisting into the pleats so tightly they were shaking.
"I'm sorry," he choked out, his voice dropping into a low, frantic, unhinged rasp. He lifted his tear-stained face, his eyes glassy and completely bloodshot. "I'm a monster, right? I'm disgusting. If you break up with me because of this, I'll take the pocket knife I keep in my locker and I'll carve your name into my chest. I'll do it right in front of your window so you can watch the blood match the strawberry crepe I bought you. If I can't belong to you, I don't need my skin to be clean. I'll peel it off, (Y/N). I'll pull my own teeth out if it makes you smile."
He choked back a sob, his grip on your skirt tightening as his dark eyes locked onto yours with a terrifyingly protective, feral intensity.
"And if anyone else looks at you... if anyone tries to take you away from me or makes you smile the way I'm supposed to, I'll break them. I'll destroy every single one of them until they're crawling in the dirt. I'll smash their faces into the concrete so they can never look at you again."
He was offering his own body up to be destroyed just to keep you from walking away.
You sighed, looking down at his shaking shoulders, realizing you couldn't shake him off even if you tried. You reached down and took the heavy insulated bag from his hand. "Get up. The bell is going to ring."
The effect was instant. Rian let out a long, shuddering sigh, his broad shoulders slumping as a wet, breathless, completely adoring smile broke through his pale face.
"Okay," he whispered, his deep voice melting back into a soft, happy purr. "Anything you want."
yousharknotpass
jimmyeatworldofficial
tangentwithtanner
theartofmadeline
amandla
titsay
romaincrisis
