1. A Promise | Yandere Oc x Reader | Mason
Warning: Yandere Themes. Includes stalking, obsessive thoughts, kidnapping, drugged reader, mention of torture, amongst other things I know you’ll quite like considering if you still clicked "Keep Reading".
Summary: You wake up in what seems to be a basement, meeting your self-proclaimed husband.
Plink. Plink. Plink.
The stubborn, god-cursing sink is leaky again. Somehow, it always manages to loosen even though you tighten it every other week.
You roll over in your bed. You can fix that when the sun's out.
Clink-clink. Plink. Plink.
Stupid pipe. You're half asleep but that sound is so piercing in the early morning silence.
Plink. Plink. Plink.
You're gonna have to call the landlord. Gosh, but it's still dark out and you’re hurting for money nowadays. Can’t you just take a break, universe?
Plink. Thud. Creak. Plink.
Debating whether to wake up in the morning is a common occurrence for you, but you decide to let yourself rest for now. The problems can wait until the sun rises. Somehow, your body is quite sore from the day before.
Plink. Plink. You turn to your other side. Clink-clink. Plink. Thud. Creak. Plink. Thud. Creak. Plink.
Wait. Sore from doing… what, exactly? And that sound?
A creak of an open door jolts you awake. You sit up immediately, looking in the direction of the sound.
“I was scared for a moment there.” The man chuckles in relief as walks closer, “Thought I put too much, but it seems I was just impatient. Are you sore? You were asleep for quite some time, and the mattress I have down here isn’t quite the best.”
The man walks closer, setting down a tray of what looks to be your breakfast for the day on the table in the middle of the room. You retread to the corner where your bedside touches the wall, the chain on your ankle clinking as it moves with you. Eyes wide as you look at your new ankle chain.
The man sits down at the table and welcomes you to come sit with him. Your eyes dart between the man and your surroundings. Dark brown hair, dark tan skin, green eyes. The room itself was all made of concrete, and there was a small horizontal window near the ceiling. There's another room attached to this one, but you can't make what it's supposed to be under the one light that shines in this room. Is this a basement? You feel his eyes on you.
He continues to speak in a soft, gentle voice.
“Well, it’s not the best, but hopefu—” the man corrects himself with a chuckle, “soon enough, when you get better, you’ll be able to go upstairs and rest in our bed! Much softer, I’d say.”
“Who are you?! Why am I here? What did you do?!” is what you would shout, but his smile is so unnerving that you lose your words.
He inspects you from afar, taking note of your anxiousness. “I’m not going to hurt you, darling. I don't think I'm ever capable of doing so, really."
You try out your luck and ask your first question. “Who are you?” It's more of a demand than a question with how it came out of your mouth.
“Eat first while I talk, why don't you? The drug makes you crazy with hunger," the man chuckles, "I'd know.”
Your adrenaline masks your hunger greatly. You stay put though, the thought of eating something your captor gave you makes you even more anxious.
“It’s not like I poisoned it or anything. Look, I'll even taste it for you.”
He smiles as he chews. You still stay put, still taking in what happened since you woke. It's setting in now, that anxiety and panic.
“Well, to start off,” he says, looking mildly disappointed at the food, but switches his mood as he looks up to you, “I’m Mason. Your husband.”
You looked at him, wide eyed.
Are you going to be a sex slave of his? Is this some kind of sex dungeon? How did you even get here? Didn't you lock the door before you went to bed? You weren't even sure. Tracing back your steps doesn't work when you don't fucking remember anything.
“I just want you to know that I'll treat you well, better than myself, obviously, as my spouse only deserves to be happy," Mason smiles with that creepy, hollow smile. He stands to walk over to you, both hands raised and outreached. He approaches slowly to not startle you even more.
Tears are about to fall from your eyes, and you scream out, “Please, let me go home! I don't want to be with you. I don't even know you," you speak, but the tears make your voice choppy.
Mason approaches the bed, kneeling down, with his eyes softening even more if you haven't noticed it before. You push further into the corner, pushing the comforter with your feet to form a pathetic barrier. The chains clink loudly as you do.
“Honey, please understand me. I'm not going to hurt you, and I'm not going to abuse you in any way. We're gonna be a simple, loving couple; because we're meant to be. We're lovers!” Mason fumbles with his words, and hand gestures wildly, trying to appear unthreatening. “Gosh, this isn't going how I expected. We're supposed to celebrate today together, albiet you getting used to your situation. You're with me, there's no need to be afraid, you're safe.”
His reassurance slip in one ear and out the other. You're too scared to understand, he sees. Mason climbs onto the bed, still moving as slowly as he can. But the way his eyes focus on you, unblinking, it feels like he's stalking you down. The smile doesn't make it any better.
“The police are gonna find me and jail you if you do this. Please just let me go,” Your begging is more forceful. “Please. I w-won't tell a-anyone.” You're full-on crying now.
“The police aren't gonna do anything, because I took care of it; in the same manner that I'm going to take care of you: devotedly careful. You're just confused right now because it's a new thing you need to get used to and understand, dearest.”
Like you, your words go in his ear and out the other. You jump forward to push him away, trying to make your way to the door. Mason grabs you tightly, pulling you towards his chest. You fight against him, sobbing, but he restrains you easily. You're exhausted, too hungry, and too emotionally drained to fight back. All you could do is measly push him back. The drug still has its grip on you.
Mason hugs you tight like he's squeezing you. “I know you're very confused right now, and you don't know what's going on, but I need you to know this,” he pets your hair, “you're being manipulated, by everyone close to you. Your friends, your coworkers, and even your DAMN family. Their manipulation conditioned you so much, you don't even realize how much they've hurt you.”
He continues to try to comfort you while you're in his lap. Kissing your forehead, petting your hair, and holding you tightly so you can't get away. The physical affection Mason gives you makes you cry harder. You can't accept this to be happening.
“But don't worry about them, darling. I've taken care of them too. They've hurt as much as they've hurt you.” He nuzzles your head. The sound of exhausted weeping fills the basement-like room.
“They don't deserve the mercy of such a caring angel such as yourself, so I tried my hardest to make them suffer. Obviously, I let them live so they can feel the pain of losing you, amongst other things."
You don't know if you're grateful Mason didn't kill anyone or furious that he hurt them.
“We don't need to think about those people anymore, though. We don't need to care about your career, or making enough money for rent. We can focus on what's REALLY important, me and you."
Locking you in with his legs, Mason rubs his thumbs under your eyes, but it's a pointless gesture. You push his hands away, more tears flowing down your cheeks. He goes back to smoothing down your hair, albeit now with some stronger restraint on your fighting body.
"I can focus on you. I'll protect us from all of them. Every single one. No one will hurt you like the world has done to you. Not when you have me. We will get through this, my love. It'll be ok.”
You shout out, “Please, I just want to go home. Let me go, you're fucking psychotic!” Your fight is coming back, trying to hit, claw, bite your way out of his grip. The bleeding of his wounds doesn't deter him away from you for a second. He's just too strong, too much of a manic to care.
“You are home, first of all, and I know the basement sucks but I'll let you go once you're better. It's a promise, darling. You'll be able to walk inside the house, cook your delicious food, and do all sorts of things.”
As fast as your fight began, it diminished as quickly. The adrenaline wore off as he subdued you even tighter. You couldn't even move a limb, much less than a finger. He gives your head a kiss.
“But for now, I'll feed you. I'll wash you. I'll take you to the bathroom. I'll do everything you could ever need. Now, and forevermore.”
Mason cups your cheek in his hand and directs you to face him. With your red, teary eyes, you gaze into his. His piercing stare makes you worry about what's to come.
“It's a promise, my love."
Nothing he says comforted you in the slightest. It feels too much like a bad dream. But the pain of his hug and the redness of your chained ankle says otherwise. Mason sensed you calmed down, lessening his grip ever so slightly. You try once more, and with all your strength, you push yourself out of his grasp.
Running, but still wobbly from the aftermath of the drugs, you make your way to the table, knocking down chairs to slow him down, and trying to reach the door. Of course, you don't make it. You fall almost immediately after feeling a stab behind your thigh.
Mason injects a clear liquid from the syringe he embedded in you, and you fall into his arms. He puts the empty syringe back in his pocket. It's getting dark pretty quick.
"Until you get better, I'll take care of us. I'll take care of everything."