↳ ❝ EVERY INCH OF YOU IS MINE TO TOUCH. ❞
⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯ yandere!mafia boss x male!reader
「 Once upon a time, Y/n saved an injured boy and nursed him back to health. And now years later, the same boy comes back to Y/n, now the leader of a powerful syndi...
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this was way longer than I intended it to be...supposed to be 2k and ended up at like 4K words oops 😭 this chapter kinda messy but it's pretty defining in a sense as after this chapter shit starts to happen (finally)
also I'll update trapped in a minute so look forward to that!
comment along the way as it motivates me! more comments mean faster updates!
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PAST
Y/n missed him.
Moving had not been easy. His father stayed drunk, his mother had stayed missing—and Andrei remained nothing but a missing memory. His childhood. He became nothing more but a little ray of light in his younger days: a conversation topic, a reminder of the better days. Y/n's childhood days had ended, and suddenly he was supposed to live on. To forget it all—to view it as simple nostalgia. Memory tapped a gun to his inner skull and demanded for those days to be back.
The funny thing about having an alcoholic father was that Y/n didn't even have an alcoholic father. Y/n's father was just some drunk person who happened to be his father. He was just some person who watched him grow up on the sidelines. He was just someone who held the beer bottle the way he should have held Y/n.
His mother had been slightly better. Both at fault, but one still better. Y/n was embarrassed to find that even at sixteen there were times he still called out for her. Mother, he would think, I wish you were here. With me. He call for her until his my throat was scratched and dry, until his voice was reduced to a pathetic rasp.
Y/n would call for her until all that he could taste was the blood that his mother regretted giving him. So many times they would parrot the same line to him, over and over again, until Y/n would be sick of hearing it. You were an accident. We never meant to have you.
Andrei made him feel human. A person. That he was worth seeing. And in those three months Y/n had not seen Andrei he feared he had begun to change into someone undesirable. Someone disgusting. Sometimes Y/n thought back to when they met—sometimes Y/n thought back to the times he had talked lightly and affectionately with Andrei—before the weight of his current reality would crash upon to once more.
Someone. Please. Fill my heart. I think it's broken.
This continued again and again. Y/n would wake up gasping, upset. Terrified. Grieving. It continued—
Until it stopped. Y/n couldn't remember what had transpired the day before. It was a murky mess; with his head throbbing, rattling, shaking. His pupils had dilated and his lips had gone dry.
And the word Andrei was absent, wiped dry. And so was his blissful past.
