DO YOU SEE HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU?
synopsis: a yandere who is a crybaby tries his best to maintain you now that you were kidnapped by him, but the moment he arrives home from work you notice his eyebags, and when he hears you call for him the first time, his whole self crumbles infront of you. (4.3k) warnings: love obsession, kidnapping, anxiety, depression, anger issues, self-harm, overworking, cursing, overthinking reader's gn a/n: literally my desired type of yandere... let me know what you think about it, i love reading your opinions!
he has kidnapped you weeks ago now, and ever since then, you have not spoke for the life of you. he even tried hearing anything you might get to say when you're all alone through the cameras he had installed for your arrival at his home, but to no avail—you haven't said anything.
he knew you might be struggling—he knew you would since the beginning—he knew you would take your time to get accostumed to this new and strange life with him, but had hopelessly thought it would be quicker and softer than whatever it's happening right now.
he knew you liked to talk yourself out whenever you were alone (or thought you were), so he didn't get it how were you standing so strong on your need to not say a word.
whenever he asks if you are hungry? if you're thirsty? cold? bored? you just look at him with those dull eyes of you, which of course had given him chills on more than one ocasion now, and he doesn't like that either—but what else can he do? he's in the edge of collapsing.
he's done everything he can to finish off work as quick as possible and try to spend more time by your side and see if something could change, expecting a miracle to happen so you'd be in a better mood and maybe finally telling him a simple yes or no when he asks if its ok to cuddle that night with you. he'd end up doing it whatever you say though—but maybe, just maybe, if you do use your voice to tell him not—he'd obey. he's got that desperate nowadays.
you got him going crazy, mind spiralling so much these days he can't focus on anything but trying to remember your voice and searching—thinking of anything that might get you to talk to him.
he's begged, he feels miserable admitting it, but he's gotten on his knees and pleaded you to voice at least one of your thoughts, to insult him or tell him how angry you feel with him—but none of that ever comes. he's left in tears, facing the floor with bruised fists of so much hitting the ground in desperation.
did you know what you were doing to him? he always thought you did, because if you didn't, you wouldn't deprive yourself so much in the sake of seeing him suffer—would you? he really hopes not, he already thinks you hate him enough but not to that extent.
weeks had turned into months and he's gotten promoted on his job to a higher rank without knowing why 'cause he's been more scattered than usual—whatever, now he's gotten a higher salary, he planned on spoiling you even more. he doesn't plan on hurting you to talk to him, no no, it's the other way around—he plans on making you the happiest ever to get to see you recover to your normal self—to smile at him.
however, as this new rank had its perks, it had its drawbacks as well. he wouldn't spend much time with you anymore and that got him thinking twice about signing the papers—but as his more depressed voice on his mind told him—if you aren't talking to him now, maybe if you miss him enough you'll do, and when he goes back home with lots of presents for you, you'll change your mind about this silent treatment nightmare.
yeah. he'd take the offer.
he didn't expect the work to be as insufferable as it has come to be, he's gotta deal with lots of clients a day while going in and out of meetings with some superiors while teaching juniors how to start with the business. to say he's going even crazier would be an understatement—he's losing his sanity.
however, something peculiar about him is that he doesn't like lashing out with the first person who makes him snap, no, he's a sensible man—a crybaby. he doesn't scream his lungs out when things aren't going his way, he doesn't grab by the collar a stupid costumer nor does he slap the shit out of those who take advantage of him because of this same reasons—he just cries, cries and hurts himself as he punches the walls that protect his dignity even by being all alone and letting all his feelings flow along his tears.
so he arrives home one of this tiring and stressing days—expecting you to be locked on your shared room, hugging your knees as close as possible to do not meet him in the eye—he expected everything to be as quiet, as cold and as dark as a cave.
he's been dealing all by himself the tasks of taking care of yourself, he's prepared some meals and had ordered take out every now and then as well, he's bought you some clothing and let you choose yourself via app to order some more or even things for hobbies he knew you had before taking you captive.
he knew the routine by now, and thinking about repeating it all over again day and day didn't bother him at all as long as he had you much than now.
he's wearing himself out for some dream he knew wasn't bound to happen until you'd let it—until you love him. until you love him too.
he was pretty confident on himself before kidnapping you it'd come to happen one day or another, but having been as long as it has already been, he's not sure anymore.
you weren't showing any signs of letting your guard down, of trusting him even a bit, nothing—you just looked so empty.
or that's what he thought at least.
when he'd first taken you from away from your life you were scared, angry, anxious and mostly, sad. you couldn't comprehend your thoughts as your mind raced miles per minute with everything that was happening at once.
there was this man who had come up with you and messily but sort of sweetly confessed his love to you, a very intense one as he let see. the next second—as you told him you didn't know him so you politely rejected his feelings—he was on you putting a cloth on your mouth and nose.
when you woke up, you were on a place you had never seen and the same man appeared and gave you a welcome—with a sheepish smile and looking like a teenager in love—told you to feel comfortable around here and to not be afraid to ask for anything, that he'd provide all your needs in the blink of an eye.
you were incredulous, you couldn't believe he was so devoted to you as to know each and every one of your likings, dislikes, hobbies, prefered music, everything. maybe he even knew you better than you knew yourself—it scared you.
how were you expected to respond to all that love bombing? you were scared and sad when he'd explained you wouldn't leave the house ever again, or atleast until he deemed it possible, as he still thought you would try to escape from him—and of course you agreed on your mind.
but you were that afraid of anything he might do that your body wouldn't obey you. you wanted to scream so loud but the only thing that ever came out were tears of frustration—tears holding the deep feelings you were holding from not talking for so long with someone else—even when he's been a "gentleman" and asked you to talk to him so many times.
you just wouldn't budge, sometimes because of the anger, some others because of fear and mostly nowadays because you were giving up your life altogether.
no one has come here, to wherever this house was. when he's turned on the tv there were no reports on missing people, you didn't have your phone either so you got no messages from family members or friends asking where were you or if you were ok, you missed all of that and wish you could matter some more to all of them to have already found you. but they hadn't—they weren't really looking that deep on anything for time to have passed so slow yet so fast that it'd already been half a year and there was nothing from them.
no one cared about you—or so you thought until you saw him one day arriving to the house looking so tired, with eyebags so marked and sluggish steps going straight to the bedroom to leave his suitcase and greet you as usual with the same sheepish smile and a kiss on your forehead. you thought no one cared about you—but as he then dragged his tired body to the kitchen to get started on making your favorite dish for the nth time on the month, you weren't so sure anymore.
you were starting to trust a little bit on him, but reprimanded yourself so hard on your mind that you were left exhausted mentally everyday with your dilemma.
you needed to distract yourself, you couldn't bear that all the things you were bottling up on your throat before they could even taste the tip of your tongue would always swirl around your mind and dreams to get turned on nightmares being awake or not so often now.
so you got up from the bed one day and took tiny and doubtfull steps to the kitchen after your kidnapper had left for work—not without giving you your forehead kiss of course.
upon arriving to your today's destiny, you put on the apron he's showed many times before to you telling you he bought specially for you for when you're on the mood of joining him to help on preparing the food for the day.
a smile crossed your features without knowing. it had a design of your favorite animal on a cartoonish style printed cutely on it.
you got a look around the shelfs and the refrigerator to mentally make a list about possible recipes you could get done with everything there is.
before living whatever the hell this all has been you see—even if you weren't so doted on it—you liked cooking. trying out recipes only you could mix up and to your contentment, the majority of your dishes would end up being to your family's and friends' liking.
you got absorbed on making a specific dish that your bad thoughts were all forgotten and replaced by the thought of seeing your plate finished and the smile of your captor when seeing it.
how would he react? would he be angry? suspicious of your sudden actions? there's no poison around here so there would be no need for him to worry about anything like that though...
you admitted you would feel a bit sad if he were to talk badly about your cooking skills, but still were adamant on trying to get it done, so persevered and as the clock hit the time he was supposed to get out of work as he's told you weeks ago for his new rank, you had plated two sets of your soup and main dish along a mini dessert at the sides.
you felt anxious—your stomach wasn't as hungry as you thought when you smelled the soup cooking up minutes ago, no—you were nervous.
as some time passed and the clock hit the next hour, you decided to take a shower to hopefully get the warm water to calm your racing heart and wild butterflies in your belly.
you put on some of the clothes you've chosen and accesories he's bought you that made you feel comfortable to turn on the tv and continue watching a movie.
however, you kept glancing the clock every five minutes approximately and grew even more anxious and disappointed when it had passed two hours since he was supposed to arrive.
he's has never begged so hard for earth to just swallow him up so many times before in a day but here he was. his boss had left on unannounced vacations for a whole month and dumped all his responsibilities on him while a new course had opened for recently graduated juniors to get experience on the area, and just when he thought it couldn't get worse—an important partner of the company had demanded a meeting with the same person missing for some stupid vacation on miami now of all times.
everytime he turned around at any room there would be a new person or a colleague asking him for favors, questions he's felt he's answered hundreds of times already, to sign so many papers he's not sure he's really doing his best to keep his signature the same 'cause his hand hurts so much. his feet are aching and his headache is doing nothing but making the day feel endless.
he wants to arrive home already—he wants to go with you even if you'd just look at your arms or knees instead of him—he's one hundred percent sure that'd be better than all this chaos.
he hadn't had the time to check out on you now that he thinks about it. but just as that thought occurs, another phone rings and he has to sit on a new chat with an angry client, slowly getting so overwhelmed with it that he forgets about checking the app on his phone that had become a salvation for moments like this—where he sees your every movement around his house, even if its not that much.
and just as he had thought—the workload wouldn't let him go rest at his designated time, no, it would prolong until two more hours later of suffering. he wanted to cry so bad now.
when the last colleague had left and the company's lights finally turned off, he almost felt his soul leave his body from relief.
he tried his best to grab his things and return home as quick as possible, but his swollen feet from all the walking around offices, dizzy mind and buzzing ears made it an impossible task. he stumbled upon every stone on his path to his car, almost crashed it and could be seen sleeping on every red light.
he wanted to be with you right on that instant so badly he swore he could die happily even if that was the last thing he did.
as he parked his car and as carefully and silently as he could opened the front door to do not wake you—he let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding all the way until here, closing his arms and trying to stretch his legs for the muscles to relax now that he's in a safe space.
when he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the turned on tv with the netflix warning reading "are you still watching?" for when a show had ended but no movement was made after some minutes. then, his eyes instantely fell on the back of your head resting on the couch of the living room. he took more steps in in the way of your bedroom to leave his suitcase as always—but the scene before it left him astonished.
the table was set up—cutlery placed neatly and deliciously looking food put on the bowls and plain dishes it made his mouth water almost instantly, but most importantly, his heart started beating fast and his cheeks reddened. soon, his eyes let out all his frustrations from the day into salty tears and broken sobs came from his dry throat and deeply overwhelmed mind and heart.
you had prepared it. you prepared all this for the two of you. the set for the other person accross the table was untouched which meant you hadn't eaten either. you were waiting for him too—you waited for him. to eat dinner—to eat dinner together.
he felt like he died and reborn once more. he wasn't taking it easy and dropped his suitcase without thinking the noise would startle you. his hands going straight to his eyes to stop his with his waterfalls and choke down his sobs.
you woke up startled by the noise of... him crying? oh no, he'd arrived and you've fallen asleep! he's already seen the surprise but maybe he hadn't like it? you felt terrible, your stomach dropping upon seeing him desperately rubbing his eyes and crumbling on the dining room's floor.
you got up and came behind him, taking into account that because of his loud crying he hadnt' noticed you. you got worried for him—just as you got worried all those times ago when he'd cry and beg for you to talk and look at him—you didn't like seeing him cry, but he wouldn't stop.
so you spoke.
"hey," something as simple as that but you did it. something you hadn't done for the almost seven months you've been trapped with someone you barely knew but had told you he'd fallen deeply in love with you—with someone who'd spent everyday since then showing you—his in fact—endless love for you.
he stopped his crying immediately, shoulders tensing and mind short-circuiting. did you just—did you just talk to him?
"i-i'm sorry if it's not of your liking, i-i just-i just thought about making dinner but never really asked for permission-i'm-i'm so sorry"—you rambled, now that you started speaking you couldn't really stop yourself anymore.
your mind now freely spoke everything it came to it, forgetting about the overthinking you did about the right moments or right words—you just did it.
he wasn't really reacting. how could he? he didn't know what to do or say—many things he's dreamed of had happened in the spawn of five minutes since he's arrived.
he turned slowly to face you, the light hitting him from the back didn't let his swollen red eyes and runny nose from all the crying be seen easily—but you could see his form shivering—he's holding his tears back now. just as you got surprised by the sudden recover of your voice, he also was.
so you spoke up again, but this time with your actions.
you took some steps closer to him—coming face to face with his chest as he was a lot taller than you—and wrapped your arms around him.
you were doing anything before thinking further on it, really. he started crying even harder this time. almost making you retract yourself but you didn't—you didn't want to let go.
he's proved you he would mantain you—he's given you some kind of freedom under his roof and brought you so many things that on your previous lifestyle you could only dream of. he's talked for the two of you all this time you were deprived of it—even if he felt bad about it—he never hurt you or said bad things to you. he encouraged you to, he really demonstrated he did all of what he did because of love.
and you've fallen for it.
now that he had everything he's asked for he couldn't react as he thought he would. he thought that whenever it was that you would hug him first, he'd instantely reciprocate the affection and drown you whole on it. he'd smother you with tons of kisses and tell you so many cheesy lines even he'd feel grossed out from them, but he wouldn't care 'cause you wouldn't care either, you'd be happy—happy together.
after some minutes of you holding him together on your arms as he sobbed out uncomprehensible lines and looked at you through blurry eyes, you ended the hug and unconsciously moved your hands to take place on both of his cheeks so sweetly—so carefully as he if he's made of porcelain—and stared into his eyes so deeply his knees got weak, your eyes were full of love—they were screaming it—he could hear it.
you've fallen for him—you've really done it.
you looked from his wide-puppy-like eyes to his lips as if asking permission for sealing this silent promise of eternal love you've sentenced upon the two of you since you hugged him.
he nodded his head a little and sucked in a breath as if preparing for what's to come. you reached closer—neither closing your eyes just yet until you connected your lips with his.
it felt as if the world stopped for seconds—it felt right—so damn right. he finally got rid of his frozen posture and placed one of his hands on behind your head and the other on your hips to pull you closer, while you focused on laying all your emotions for him on that kiss—that special and never-forgettable moment you'd just share.
you lasted some seconds more until he pulled away to look at you in the eye, look at you already looking at him—not like all those times in the past when he'd have to search for your eyes—you shared the same warmth as he's shared for you all this time until now, for him.
"i love you so much," his mouth let out, reciting it out in the open once again as he's done for so many nights on the past even if you didn't tell him anything.
but to his surprise, today you'd decided to reciprocate it. "i love you too."
four words, eleven vocal tones united to form four words that all come together meaning such a common yet powerful feeling humans feel for another—another human or thing, moment or memory—this being confessed only when seem proper, mostly when two people mean it, not without a risk of course—risk of losing it all but said with the confidence of it not happening. said with the hope it won't—hoping this love would flourish into something deeper and comfortable in many forms, the forms of a house, a family—an eternity together.
four words that made him remember why he's loved you so much and felt all his time spent on you was worth every single second.
"i'm so happy with you, i-i love you," he repeated, this time taking your hands on his bigger ones, and his smile so big that his teeth were showing and eyes almost closing resembling that of a child getting the latest toy they wanted.
you squeezed softly and started to walk without letting go, to the table—only doing so when you went to take out the chair for him to have a seat and gently indicating him so, picking up the cold plates and going to warm them up in the microwave.
he's eyes never left your form—just as when he'd watch you while doing paperwork through the cameras—he was and would always be infatuated with you. he felt so blessed in that moment and thanked whatever came to his mind for what was happening.
as much as he'd like to help you out right now—he just felt so tired and so enraptured with your movements that he stayed still until you returned with the food and placed it down again on its place, smiling softly at him and taking a seat too.
he took the first bite, already thinking it would taste delicious if it came from you, savoring it he noticed how wrong he was—it tasted heavenly. his face relaxed and he started eating faster, devoring everything as his now more than empty stomach begged for some food after the long hours he's spent without eating.
you took it as a good sign and felt relieved—finally digging in—you both finished fairly quickly and as you were about to wash the dishes, he came behind you saying, "let me get those done, you've already cooked for the both of us, it's the least i can do."
"no, you've just come from working, and if i decided to cook then i'm in charge of cleaning them too." you defended, taking the gloves and almost putting them on before he negotiated, "then what about doing them tomorrow, i'm so tired right now i'd like to just hug you all night." he smirked after seeing you ponder for a bit, he got you.
"fine... i'll-i''ll wake up early to clean them before you even think of doing so!" you claimed, taking off the gloves and tangling your arm around his, both of you walking to the bedroom.
"i'll undo the bed, you can go change," you offered, going up to it and starting to place the decorative pillows on the armchair next to the desk in the bedroom—where he'd often spend restless nights firstly figuring out his plan to get you, and when he'd gotten you—nights planning out how to get you to fall for him, now he's watching you place those pillows yourself, undoing the bed and taking place on it as if you were already a married couple.
he changed to his pajamas carelessly, tossing his uniform on his wardrobe and shoes long-forgotten somewhere on the carpeted floor of the dressing room that covered the whole bedroom as well.
he then let himself fall on the bed, arms looking out immediately for your body and wrapped gently yet tightly around you, taking a deep breath on the side of your neck and letting all his worries vanish from his mind by having you all to himself like this.
"good night," you whispered, hands going to play with his hair and caressing it softly as if petting a cat, he felt like he'd most definitely end up purring too.
"good night, my love."
PT. 2 HERE
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