∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
SYPNOSIS. Ivon has always been such a crier since birth. Even his parents thought so. So, even if he loves you so damn much, why does it seem like you love a weird guy like him even more? Gender-neutral! Reader! WARNINGS! Reader is much worse than him. Pathetic Yandere. Kidnapping and drugging. Stalking. Obsessive Behavior. Weird stuff by our yandere boi. Stockholm Syndrome. Mentions of Masturbation (From Ivon). Mentions of suicide. WC. 1.4k
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Ivon was a pathetic crybaby.
It got to the point even his own parents got sick of him.
So, it wasn't uncommon when people called him a crybaby. In fact, he was called it so much that he can't even recall the last time someone called him by his name properly. But it didn't matter. After all, at least he had some attention, even if it was negative as hell.
By now, you can probably conclude he was a huge loser who's mom and dad didn't love him enough.
Insult the mole under his mouth and he'll start sobbing.
Because when he was young, he quickly grew to realize how much crying bought everyone's attention. His parents were busy on work and chores? A cry will let them rush beside him. No one wants to be his friend? Just fake a sniffle and they'll comfort him.
But that quickly shot back at him.
Not only was it grabbing too much attention, he was just doing it too damn much, that it wasn't even impressive anymore. One can only wonder why he still does it.
In truth, it's just the only thing he's good at.
If he doesn't do it, no one will turn their heads for him anymore. So he'll do it. Good or bad.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Imagine his surprise when you told him to man up.
He was being bullied again, so, of course, he cried. He got your attention, which was surprising since you never paid attention to anyone before, much less, someone that can be considered a stranger like him.
You didn't tell him to continue crying, to assure him everything's gonna be alright. No, you didn't.
"Stop crying. A pretty face like that shouldn't be wasting tears for those nobodies."
He swore he felt something snap. Before he knew it, he cried even more. Not for attention, not for the insults.
They felt more like happy tears. It was a genuine compliment.
"Hey, what did I just say?" He snapped back to reality when he heard you mutter to him in almost a threatening way. You were glaring at him, and he had to gulp back his saliva down his throat, "S-Sorry…"
He watched you walk away, admiring your figure. You actually told him to be brave. Well, correction, to 'man up' and stop crying, but close enough.
Soon enough, Ivon started following you. Well, following you was a kind enough to sugarcoat stalking.
He worshiped every pen, pencil, and eraser that you gave him during class. He wasn't really lacking any materials, rather, it was a poor excuse to talk to you, but can you blame him? He hasn't had this much comfort in years! It was the first time where someone actually told him to not cry and man up.
At first, it started small, like following you around campus and keeping all of your stuff in his closet. But, not long after, it escalated into following you home and stealing everything that came from you (that includes every strand of hair that leaves your body).
He loves you too much.
Doesn't matter if you make him cry.
He'll cry for you.
He won't cry for you.
Just love him.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
You've had your eye over Ivon since he first came to class. He was cute. Very, very cute.
You never really spoke to him since many people said he was just an annoying crybaby. Really? That was stupid, but you didn't want to look like a fool. But that didn't stop you from stalking his socials. You were always staring at him. Gradually, you memorized his schedule, his lunch, and printed out his photos to stick them into your wall to admire him.
You don't know why you liked him so much, but you didn't bother. He was quite pretty.
Until, one faithful encounter, you got to class pretty early and some weird jock was throwing crumbled paper at him, continuously saying things like crybaby or weirdo depressed kid. It was such a pitiful scene that you had to stop yourself from physically cringing.
So, you swooped by and became the hero, insulted the jock in his face to leave his ass alone. Once he did fuck off, you patted his back, "Hey. Look at me," you ordered and put your hands to his cheeks to forcefully let him face you (gently, of course).
When you finally saw his face properly, scrunched up in tears, you felt your heart skip a bit. He looked prettier. You wanted to lick the overflowing water escaping his eyelids. That's when you finally snapped out of it.
"Stop crying. A pretty face like that shouldn't be wasting tears for those nobodies."
You swore that in those eyes, you saw them lit up. His cheeks blushed a bit and in a blink of an eye, he cried even more. As much as your heart beat faster, you told him to stop even harsher anyway.
You felt quite bad. But, hey. Crying did make him a bit more uglier. The tears just made his beauty shine. A bit confusing but you'll get there.
However, you saw him almost everywhere after the encounter. And oh boy, you weren't complaining.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
Oh, your room smelled heavenly. It was exactly like you. Cozy, warm, and beautiful. He didn’t mind taking your underwear or two. You wouldn't either, since you had many more.
This lasted for over a week.
He would be home early, just to sneak into your house, sniff and bathe your scent while hugging your blankets. He sometimes had to clean up the mess he made after doing his business, looking at your pics while sniffing the very blanket that you use to sleep at night.
He can't let his beloved hate him. Oh no. He'll kill himself if they did.
While prancing around your room, hugging the cute pillow that had your scent, he bumped into your bookshelf and dundundun-
A fucking diary. Your Diary.
He never really bothered looking into your bookshelf since he didn't want to ruin the touch you had and its pages. But the goddamn urge to just take that diary with him and open it, just to know every little secret you had.
Slowly but surely, he took the diary and opened it. It was normal for a few pages, until…
"That Crybaby was cute."
Ivon swore he felt his saliva stuck onto his throat. It's gotta be him! Is it..? The more he read, his breathing and heartbeat increased. You loved him! He was right all along! It was normal, until the pages were filled more and more of him.
"My Ivon looked good today as always."
"I hated seeing him cry. But his tears made him prettier."
"I swear to god if someone made him cry more,"
"I love him. I love him."
"Ivon, Ivon, Ivon, Ivon-"
"It seems like I came home early too," He froze and stopped reading, hearing the familiar voice. He turned around and he swore he saw an someone better than an angel. It was you.
"You thought I haven't seen you, my love?" Your chuckle made his fucking dick twitch. "Always behind me. Always breaking in, stealing my undies," you approached him and Ivon gulped,
"Come here," You opened your arms to take him in a hug. He felt like the heaven's gates were opening. Without hesitation, he rushed to your embrace. He started crying again, "I-I'm so sorry… P-Please don't hate me..!" He spoke through pathetic sobs
You quietly shushed him, "Oh, baby. I'm not mad… Far from that," He felt his shoulders relax. You laid him in his bed and once again, you put your hands to his cheeks to let him look at you. And before he knew it, his lips were on yours.
It was the best kiss he had on his entire life.
It lasted for a couple more minutes until you pulled away, making him whine. "I've always loved you," you smiled. "I-I love you too…" he muttered and sighed in content.
But after all of this, you weren't gonna let him get away.
"Sorry for this, dear…" In a blink of an eye, you put a drugged handkerchief on his mouth and nose. His eyes widened in shock, but the drug took effect and he began to lose his senses. "Sleep well, dear…" was the last thing he heard from you.
You looked down at his unconscious body. It was unethical, yes. But now…
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘
