All Hail the Meme Queen [yandere!boys x f!reader]

"oh, he stealin', he stealin"

"Yeah, I know," you said, going with the lie.

Rhys held up a hand. "Aleksander, Ayven, you are dismissed. I'm to have a sleepover with [Y/N] tonight, so tell Pops that. My... friend needs attention, and I will give it to her."

You never agreed to a sleepover! Sure, you were expecting a late-night hangout, but a sleepover? It would require your parents' permission and Rhys' ability to behave.

As if the world finally started to work again, your parents called you.

"Who is that?" Rhys asked, tone sharp. "I'd like to know."

You held the phone up to your ear, telling him to shush. "It's my parents, you dingus. Relax your balls."

"[Y/N], we're staying at a friend's house tonight, is that alright? Your mother is drunk"—there was a muffled crash in the background—"and I don't think I can drive us home either because I'm equally drunk," your father slurred on the phone.

"Okay. Did you get me take-out, though?"

There was a scream on your father's side of the phone. "Yeah. I'll leave it on the counter tomorrow."

"Thanks, by the way, I'm having a friend over for a sleepover." And you hung up the phone. You put away your phone and looked Rhys in the eye, which made you crane your head up. "Do you have any clothes?"

Rhys purred, "Did you want some of my shirts?"

"No," you replied, snorting. "For you to sleep in. Plus, I already have a lot of shirts from Damon." You pulled on your Panic! At The Disco shirt. Then you corrected yourself. "Most of my shirts, that aren't uniform, are Damon's. frequently, and sometimes I wonder if he has a house or not."

"Damon... the actor?" Rhys asked.

"Yeah—you can borrow one of his shirts if you'd like," you said. However, Rhys had more muscle than Damon, who was muscular lean. Then another great idea popped in your head. "How about we go shopping?"

Rhys frowned. "Most shops would be closed by now." He looked at his watch that surely cost more than your roombas combined. "It's eleven o'clock, [Y/N], be sensible."

You smiled. "High-end shops would be closed, but Rhys darling, have you ever been to a twenty-four hour ?"

"No," Rhys drawled slowly and suspiciously.

"Allow me to enlighten you."

---

As Rhys picked out his shirt in Walmart, he looked at the price tag. "Five ninety-nine?" He looked at you, who carried a shit ton of snacks in your hands and poured it into the cart. "Are you sure it's not five hundred ninety-nine? Maybe these people put the decimal in the wrong place..."

"No," you said, looking at the price tag. "That definitely says five ninety-nine."

Rhys' jaw dropped. "Are you sure? That's awfully cheap. I feel like I'm being scammed. I could walk into any other store, and this shirt would be at least a hundred." Right next to this Walmart was the , and you weren't so sure if you wanted to blow Rhys' mind more just yet.

"Well, Walmart is where you save a lot of money, Rhys," you explained. "That's why a lot of people shop here."

"I wonder why Pops never took me here as a child." Rhys excitedly pointed to the toy section. "I would have loved it here! Look, [Y/N], let's go look at the toys! There's a whole section of them! Come on!"

When you were too slow to follow him, he grabbed you, placed you in the cart filled with food—you weren't complaining—and his shirt, and wheeled you to the toy section. As you ate your chips, which you intended to pay for, Rhys grabbed a stuffed elephant from the shelves. It was half his height and twice his size, yet he still managed to carry it without problems.