Imagine making a wish for a different life to get away from your neglectful husband and your wish is granted… but now you’re trapped in the body of an unhappy housewife from the 1950s. Your husband in this time period is a typical patriarchal white collar man, James Prescott. And the only way to go back to your world is to play your part… a shame you hadn’t realized just how neglected he’s been. Otherwise you wouldn’t have fed a starved man the affection he so desperately craved.
Yandere Husband who is surprised when you, his wife, are suddenly affectionate that morning. You hardly kissed his cheeks anymore or wished him a good day at work. Especially when she turned down his desire for a family all those years ago. Were you sick? This wasn’t like you at all. He was suspicious. Did you want something? Work had been going well lately so he could afford to buy you a gift… if you wanted one, of course.
Yandere Husband who is surprised to come home to a warm meal after a long day that actually tastes good. You were never a good cook before. He was startled but also satisfied to be taken care of. He even gave you a rare compliment he never had before. “The food is good today. I really like this roast.” His blue eyes studied your face for a reaction and he only received a warm smile. His heart fluttered for the first time in two years since he started this dead marriage. Meanwhile, you kept a journal noting his likes and dislikes so you’d have an easier time in this world. A fact that would later come back to bite you.
Yandere husband came home with flowers after work the next day. Blush pink roses with the thorns taken off with care. His blue eyes were hopeful as he waited for your reaction and you didn’t disappoint. He came home to another delicious hot meal and a warm smile as you happily accepted the flowers. It was like the love was back again… the love back when the two of you first started dating three years ago. And James was so thrilled.
Yandere husband loved coming home to warm meals and a clean house. James loved his clothes being washed and folded. He also loved how you ironed his work shirt. You hadn’t been this domestic in ages… you deserved more from him. Heavens, you deserved the world.
Yandere husband began to bring flowers or chocolates by every day after that just to see you smile… and he was so thrilled when you hugged him. You felt him tremble a bit as he tightened his hold on you as if he was terrified you’d disappear in a mere moment. “…how about we go on a date this weekend?”
Yandere Husband who was all too eager to put on a suit that matched the dress you wore. He made sure to open the car door for you, the restaurant door, and even pull out your chair. You were shocked at how eager he seemed for this date… and the fact that he gave you his utmost attention.
Yandere husband who made sure to order your meals once you told him what you wanted. His hand held yours under the table as his thumb brushed against your knuckles with utmost affection. James was so happy you wanted to do these kinds of things together again. He had missed this more than anything but never wanted to voice it.
Yandere husband who cuddles you in bed at night now. His hands wander more and he gets bolder as the days drag on… but you didn’t know how long you’d stay in this world with him and you would feel awful if you left suddenly. But you were happy that someone wanted to touch you… your husband back in your world hadn’t in ages either. So why not indulge this one?
Yandere husband who was gentle at first but it wasn’t long for him to grow rough once he had a taste. Had intimacy always been this good? Or had James just been denied for so many years that he was losing his mind in you? He didn’t care that the bed creaked in protest or how your back arched in a way it never had, James was so thrilled to touch his wife again.
Yandere Husband who now kissed your shoulders every morning when the sunlight streamed in before work. James would hold you from behind as you cooked and helped with dishes. He was so happy to have all his stress melt away with your touch.
Yandere husband who finds your journal and despite knowing it was wrong to read it, he read it anyways. James’s heart fluttered at the words.
James really enjoys pot roast, steak, mashed potatoes, and carrots. He says he likes tomatoes, but I notice he will push them off to the side when I’m not looking. He also prefers beef gravy over chicken gravy. James says he likes his coffee black, but he always adds in a table spoon of sugar when I’m not looking.
Yandere husband who read deeper and soon discovered your secret. You weren’t his real wife or at least, his original one. You were from another timeline trapped in a loveless marriage just like him… and he’d felt such a kinship with you.
My husband from my world hardly ever spent time with me. He never stayed for dinner and we never went on dates. I really like James. I want to stay with James. How could someone not love James? He’s such a wonderful man.
Yandere husband was so flattered that you were noting his preferences. James never thought anyone noticed him… and he’d be damned if he’d ever leave him. He loved you too. James loved you so much. More than anyone else in his entire life. Even more than himself and more than his cushy job at the law firm.
Yandere husband who put the journal back and made a decision. He was going to keep you here in this world with him forever. And he’d never, ever let you go.
You were just a child when you met a boy and played house and marriage with him, treating it like nothing more than an innocent game in the playground. It wasn't until years later that you realized that what you had taken so lightly was, in a strange and unexpected way, considered valid.
Pairings: Yandere!Prince!Gojo x Reader
Genre: Royalty AU (Still in modern era) (Though its not really focused on the royal part)
Warning: Psychological thriller themes / Kidnapping / abduction / Obsessive behavior / Stalking / paranoia / Manipulation and control / Memory loss / suppressed memories / Emotional distress and panic attacks / Possessive relationship dynamics / Mystery and suspense / Mentions of drugged unconsciousness (But for me or if you r use to this kind of stuff, this is just mild)
Word Count: 3k
Crimson Cage
When you were young, you met a boy who seemed only a year or two older than you. Even now, you can still remember how unreal he looked, as if he didn't belong in the ordinary world. His snow-white hair glimmered beneath the sunlight, and his vivid blue eyes mirrored the endless sky, bright, clear, and almost impossible to look away from. Though he was still young, there was something untouchable about him, a quiet arrogance woven with natural authority, as if the world simply bent itself around him without question.
The next day, you waited for him at the playground just like you promised. Your small hands gripped the chains of the swing as you swayed back and forth, your shoes brushing lightly against the ground beneath you.
The afternoon breeze carried the scent of freshly cut grass while your white dress fluttered softly around your knees.
The same dress he insisted you wear.
"It has to be white." he had said so confidently the day before, as if it were an obvious rule everyone in the world should already know.
You didn't really understand why.
All you knew was that the two of you had planned to play house together. You had happily suggested being husband and wife with children, thinking it was nothing more than another childish game. But he had looked at you with those striking blue eyes and calmly explained that husbands and wives had to get married first.
Apparently, married people signed contracts.
So you simply agreed.
Because when he spoke, it always sounded like he was right.
Now, sitting alone on the swing set, you kicked your feet impatiently while waiting for him to appear, wondering if he would really bring the 'contract' he talked about so seriously.
When he finally arrived, he was dressed far too formally for a child his age. A crisp white button-up sat neatly beneath a dark coat, making him look less like a kid coming to the playground and more like someone important attending a ceremony. In one hand, he carried a stack of papers folded carefully against his chest.
The moment he stood in front of you, he held them out with the same calm confidence he always had.
You took the papers from him, your eyes scanning the countless fancy words scattered across the page. The letters blended together into things you couldn't understand, long and complicated enough to make your head hurt after only a few seconds.
So you ignored them.
Instead, your attention drifted to the elegant signature written neatly at the very bottom. It curved beautifully across the page like something printed from a storybook.
You looked up at him curiously.
"What's that?" you asked, pointing at it.
"It's a signature," he explained simply. "When important people sign things, they don't just write their names normally."
You stared at it for another moment before looking down at the blank line beside his signature.
You didn't have anything pretty like that.
So, after thinking hard for a few seconds, you carefully grabbed the pencil with both hands and slowly wrote your full name exactly the way your parents taught you. Messy little letters filled the line unevenly, each stroke made with the concentration only a child could have.
When you finished, you proudly lifted the paper toward him, your childish handwriting sitting awkwardly beside his elegant signature.
You tugged lightly at his sleeve, your impatience finally spilling out into a small whine.
"Can we play house now?"
For a moment, he didn't answer.
Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on the paper in his hands, the corners of his lips slowly curling upward into a satisfied grin, the kind that looked oddly triumphant for a child, as though he had just completed something incredibly important.
Carefully, he folded the paper and tucked it away like it was something precious before finally turning his full attention back to you.
Then he nodded once.
The moment he did, your face lit up with excitement.
Without wasting another second, you dropped onto the grass and quickly pulled out your favorite doll from the small bag you carried around everywhere. You cradled it carefully in your arms before proudly holding it up toward him.
"This is our kid." you announced happily, already completely absorbed in the game.
Meanwhile, he simply stood there watching you with an unreadable expression, the afternoon sunlight catching against his pale hair and impossibly blue eyes while you babbled on about names, bedtime, and what your 'family' was supposed to do next.
────*୨ৎ*────
Days passed, then weeks, and eventually, months. But he never came back.
At first, you waited for him every afternoon at the playground, sitting on the same swing with your doll tucked against your chest, hoping to catch a glimpse of white hair in the distance. You kept expecting him to appear with that calm, confident look and those strange papers he treated so seriously.
But the playground stayed empty.
No goodbye. No explanation.
As the years went on, his face slowly blurred within your memories. The vivid blue of his eyes became harder to recall, and the sound of his voice faded into something distant and unclear. Eventually, you couldn't even remember his name.
The only thing left was the strange feeling that, once upon a time, someone important had existed in your childhood.
And then life moved on.
Now, years later, you were a college student pursuing the dream you had worked tirelessly for. Your mornings were filled with rushed schedules, unfinished assignments, and half-drunk cups of coffee balanced beside stacks of notes. The childish memories of playground games and imaginary families had long since been buried beneath adulthood.
At least, that was what you thought.
You had just grabbed your bag and slipped your shoes on, preparing to leave for another ordinary day, when the sound of a car pulling up outside caught your attention.
Moments later, there was a knock at your door.
Standing on the other side was a woman dressed in immaculate formal attire. Her posture was straight, composed, and professional enough to make her seem completely out of place in front of your home.
The moment your eyes met, she gave a polite bow.
"Good morning," she said smoothly. "I apologize for appearing so suddenly."
Then, after a brief pause, she held out a familiar-looking document toward you.
"We are here regarding your marriage contract with the crown prince."
You ignored the woman in front of you, assuming she was just another scammer or someone trying to sell you something you didn't need.
"Look, I don't really have time for this," you said sharply. "Try someone else or whatever."
The words came out harsher than you intended.
You were just… tired.
Lately, everything had been piling up at once—studies you couldn't afford to fall behind on, student loans hanging over your head like a constant weight, and the growing pressure of finding a side job just to keep yourself afloat. Rent, electricity, water, food… every basic necessity felt like another problem you were slowly losing control of.
And the worst part was knowing you weren't the only one trying. Every posting you checked had dozens of other students competing for the same few openings.
The woman didn't respond right away, but you were already halfway ready to walk away, convinced this was just another dead end in an already exhausting day.
Finally, you arrived at your university and settled into your seat, carefully laying out your notebooks and pens, making sure you had everything ready for the lecture ahead.
You began writing your notes when, for a brief moment, you caught sight of silver-white hair somewhere in your peripheral vision.
Your hand paused slightly.
You almost turned your head to look, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at your thoughts, but before you could, the professor entered the room, and the lecture officially began.
Still, something lingered.
Every now and then, your eyes would drift unconsciously, noticing that same snow-like hair again, even if only for a second. It wasn't just recognition. It felt deeper than that, like a memory you once had but couldn't quite reach anymore.
A quiet nostalgia settled in your chest, unexplainable and persistent, as if someone from a forgotten part of your past had brushed past your life once again… and left without a name.
"Hey, that new guy is cute, isn't he?" one of your classmates whispered beside you, nudging your arm lightly.
You only shrugged in response, your eyes still on your notes as if you weren't interested.
But deep down, your gaze had already drifted toward him.
Of course he was the new transferee.
The moment you saw that familiar silver-white hair, something in you quietly confirmed it before anyone even said a word. The rumors had already spread through campus like wildfire—some said he was royalty, others insisted he was just unbelievably wealthy. Either way, everyone agreed on one thing, that he didn't belong in an ordinary classroom.
He walked in like he owned the space without even trying. Calm, composed, and strangely distant from everything around him. Like the world was something he observed rather than participated in.
────*୨ৎ*────
You walked down the quiet street with exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders, already planning out the rest of your night in your head.
Eat whatever was left in your apartment. Review your notes until your eyes hurt. Then sleep for as long as your responsibilities allowed.
A simple routine.
At least, that was the plan.
Until you caught sight of snow-white hair again from across the sidewalk.
Your steps slowed instinctively.
The silver-haired guy stood a short distance away beneath the dim glow of the streetlights, hands tucked casually into his pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world.
But your first thought wasn't why is he here?
Instead.
Why is he wearing sunglasses when it's practically nighttime?
You stared for a moment longer than you probably should have. The dark lenses hid his eyes completely, making him look even more out of place somehow. Most people would've looked ridiculous dressed like that after sunset.
But on him, it strangely suited him.
As if the sunglasses weren't a fashion choice at all, but something he simply refused to take off.
Then, almost like he felt your stare, his head turned slightly in your direction.
You immediately looked away the moment he turned his head, pretending you hadn't been staring at him in the first place. Tightening your grip on your bag, you continued walking down the street, trying to brush off the strange feeling crawling beneath your skin.
It was nothing.
Probably.
You glanced around casually as you walked. People were still minding their own business, students laughing together near the convenience store, workers hurrying home, cars passing beneath the dim evening lights.
And when you risked another quick glance toward where the snow-white-haired man had been standing earlier…
He was gone.
Your brows furrowed slightly.
You should've felt relieved, yet for some reason, the uneasy feeling in your chest only grew heavier. The back of your neck prickled uncomfortably, like invisible eyes were fixed on you from somewhere just out of sight.
You looked behind you again.
Nothing.
Still, Why did it feel like you were being followed?
────*୨ৎ*────
Ever since that night, it felt like snow-white hair followed you everywhere.
A glimpse near the train station. A figure across the street. Someone standing at the corner of your classroom building.
And every single time you looked properly he was gone.
At first, you convinced yourself it was just paranoia lingering from that strange encounter. Stress could do that to people, right? Between sleepless nights, financial problems, endless studying, and the constant pressure weighing on your shoulders, maybe your mind was simply playing tricks on you.
That explanation sounded reasonable enough.
Still, a small part of you started wondering if there was another reason.
Maybe you just kept noticing him because you found him attractive.
It wouldn't have been surprising. Half the university practically talked about the mysterious silver-haired transferee like he had walked straight out of a movie. Maybe your brain had simply latched onto his appearance so badly that you started imagining him everywhere you went.
But the more you thought about it, the less sense it made.
Because liking someone wasn't supposed to feel like this.
Every time you thought you saw him, your stomach tightened painfully. Your pulse quickened. Panic curled beneath your ribs so suddenly it made your breathing uneven. Instead of wanting him closer, every instinct inside you screamed to leave before he noticed you.
To escape.
No matter how many times you tried to rationalize it, one thing became painfully clear that this wasn't a crush.
And whatever this feeling was is terrifying.
But apparently, today had decided your suffering still wasn't enough.
The professor adjusted his glasses at the front of the classroom while announcing the next major requirement, a paired essay project worth nearly half your grade.
A collective groan immediately filled the room.
You barely paid attention at first, already mentally preparing yourself for another exhausting all-nighter, until the professor began reading out the assigned partners.
Then you heard your last name.
Followed by his last name.
Gojo
The entire classroom seemed to pause for a second before whispers instantly erupted around you.
"No way…"
"She got paired with the new guy?"
"Lucky…"
Lucky? You?
Your grip on your pen tightened. Then you slowly lifted your head and there he was.
The silver-haired transferee sat only a few rows away, sunglasses still resting lazily on his face despite being indoors. One arm was propped against the desk while he looked completely unbothered by the attention surrounding him.
Then, as if sensing your stare yet again, he turned toward you.
Your heart immediately dropped.
That same strange panic clawed up your chest so suddenly that you almost looked away on instinct.
Why? Why does he make you feel like this?
And he didn't even seem surprised about being paired with you. If anything, the faint grin pulling at the corner of his lips made it seem like he had expected it all along.
The moment class ended, the room exploded into noise.
Chairs scraped against the floor, conversations overlapped one another, and yet somehow, you could still feel him before you even looked up.
You stayed seated longer than necessary, pretending to organize your notes while secretly hoping he would leave first.
You had no such luck.
Soon a shadow fell across your desk. "Partner."
That voice. It was Smooth, calm, familiar in the worst possible way.
You lifted your head to look at him up close, he looked even more unreal. Snow-white hair framed his face carelessly, soft beneath the afternoon light pouring through the classroom windows. The dark sunglasses still hid his eyes completely, reflecting your own startled expression back at you.
You swallowed hard.
"We can just divide the work," you said quickly, avoiding his gaze or at least where his gaze should have been behind those glasses. "You do your part, I'll do mine, and we won't have to meet up that much."
For a brief second, silence settled between you.
"Won't have to?" he repeated softly, almost amused. "You talk like you're avoiding me."
Your chest tightened instantly.
"I'm not." you replied a little too quickly. The words left your mouth sharp and defensive, but even you could hear how unconvincing they sounded. A terrible lie. And judging by the faint curve tugging at the corner of his lips, he knew it too.
"You've been avoiding me since the first day."
Something about the way he said it made your stomach twist uneasily. Not the first day at university. Not the first day you met as strangers. Just… the first day.
Your fingers curled tightly around your pen as an unfamiliar sense of dread crept beneath your skin. "We literally just met." you said carefully, almost cautiously.
At that, he went quiet.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed softly.
The sound wasn't mocking or cruel. If anything, it carried a strange kind of fondness, quiet amusement wrapped around something deeper you couldn't quite understand.
"You really don't remember." he murmured, almost to himself.
The words sent an uncomfortable chill down your spine.
He simply looked at you in silence, those hidden blue eyes behind the dark lenses making it impossible to read what he was thinking. Yet somehow, it still felt like he was seeing far more than he should. Like he was looking at a version of you that existed somewhere beyond your own memories.
"We should work at my place." he said casually, like it was the most natural suggestion in the world.
Your response came immediately.
"No."
Not even a second of hesitation.
The corner of his lips lifted slightly, amused by how fast you rejected him. "You answered too fast."
"Because absolutely not." you shot back, clutching your notebook a little tighter against your chest.
A quiet laugh escaped him at your obvious distrust. "You think I'm suspicious."
You stared at him flatly. "Aren't you?"
Silence settled between the two of you before his smile widened. Not offended in the slightest, but entertained, like your suspicion was far more amusing to him than it should have been.
That finally earned a genuine laugh from him, low and warm enough to draw curious glances from the students around you. For the first time since you met him, he slowly reached up and removed his sunglasses.
Bright blue eyes met yours, clear, endless, and painfully familiar. Then it hit you all at once, a forgotten memory crashing into your mind, a child proudly holding out a paper contract saying, "Now we can play house properly."
Your breath caught. Across from you, the silver-haired man smiled like he had been waiting years for this exact moment.
"Found you." he said.
The moment those words left his mouth, you stood up so quickly your chair nearly scraped harshly against the floor.
You didn't even say anything.
You just turned around and walked away.
Calmly. Controlled. Its ok, its ok, don't be nervous, calm down.
At least, that was how you tried to appear. Your steps were stiff, forced into something normal despite the panic violently clawing inside your chest.
And the strangest part was that he didn't stop you. He didn't call your name or chase after you like you expected him to. He simply stayed where he was, watching you leave with that same unreadable expression, as though he already knew you would run and was letting you.
The second you stepped outside the campus gates, whatever composure you had shattered completely.
You ran.
You ran past crowded sidewalks and dim streets blurred by the thoughts occupying your mind. Your lungs burned painfully with every breath, yet your legs refused to stop moving.
Run. Run faster. Get away from here.
But no matter how far you went, that voice still echoed in your head.
"Found you."
Your heartbeat pounded violently in your ears until eventually your legs gave out beneath you, forcing you to slow down. Gasping for air, you finally looked around properly for the first time since fleeing.
And froze at the sight.
A playground.
Empty swings creaked softly in the evening breeze while fading sunlight painted the rusted metal in gold. No children. No laughter. No people at all. Just silence.
Your breathing slowly faltered.
Why were you here?
"Out of every place I've could've run to… why did my feet bring me here?"
Something twisted painfully inside your chest as you stared at the playground, a strange familiarity settling over you like a forgotten dream.
You took a slow step back, unease crawling deeper beneath your skin. The empty playground suddenly felt far too quiet, the rusted swings creaking softly in the evening breeze like a warning you didn't understand.
Then theres suddenly a hand clamped over your mouth and nose from behind.
Your eyes widened in panic as a cloth pressed tightly against your face, the sharp unfamiliar scent instantly flooding your senses. Before you could properly struggle, strong arms pulled you backward and shoved you into a vehicle parked just beyond the playground.
The door slammed shut.
Your blurry vision darted around frantically until it landed on a familiar woman seated across from you, the same woman who had approached you before, rambling about marriage and things you thought were nonsense at the time.
Fear crashed through you violently.
You tried to move, tried to fight, but your body already felt unbearably heavy. The strange smell soaked into your lungs, dragging your consciousness downward no matter how desperately you tried to stay awake.
Your eyelids slowly began to fall shut.
And just before darkness completely swallowed you, you heard his voice.
"Tsk, seriously? I told you guys to be gentle with her." A soft chuckle followed, warm enough to send chills down your spine. "She's your future queen, you know. At least treat her a little more carefully."
The last thing you felt before slipping into unconsciousness was the faint brush of fingers against your forehead, almost affectionate.
"Theres a chance, dear butterflies, that I could write Satoru perspective when he was a child, bringing the documents to his parents and see the reactions." (For anyone want to be tag for part 2 just comment)
➤ summary : for some reasons, the top actor that everyone loves so much seemed to be so obsessed with you, his "savior".
if there is one thing that you regretted the most, then it will be saving yandere top actor's life.
it was a normal day where you were forced to go to a hospital because of your daily check-up. during lunch, while you were waiting for your doctor. you decided to spend your time in the rooftop.
and that's when you saw that guy, yandere top actor, who was about to jump off.
you panicked, of course. your initial reaction is to pull him away from that place. and that was when the two of you fell into the ground with you, on the top of him.
when you got a closer look on his face, you had finally recognized him. the actor that the whole world adores and the son of the family who owns one of the most powerful empire in the business world- yep, that's him.
flustered, you immediately got off of him and apologized frantically. welp, this is awkward.
but yandere actor only smiled at you. asking you a question, why did you saved him?
you pondered for a minute. yeah, he's right. why did you save him anyway? he watched how your eyebrows furrowed, thinking for a reason. but much to your annoyance, you cannot think of one.
so, you decided to tell him that. hearing your answer, top actor laughed.
because in his eyes, you were a breather from all of the mess that he has to deal with. you have no expectation to him, and seeing how you behaved around him, it seems like you were not his fan. that's good. he prefer it that way.
after that, for some reasons. yandere top actor had started following you around.
the nurses, patients and doctors who had seen that laughed. gushing on how cute yandere top actor was- but you? you were confused.
what is this famous rich millionaire (maybe billionaire, you don't know) was doing?
anyway, yandere top actor made sure that before you left this hospital. he will have your number on his phone, and he did. looking at you casually typing your number on his phone, yandere top actor started to get worried. he doesn't know if you were gullible or doesn't simply care about him.
anyway, after that day. you and yandere top actor had became text mates. you didn't know how it happened though, or why does he kept sending you messages. but not gonna lie, he was fun to talk with.
yandere top actor had entered your life casually, as a friend, for now. this guy acted as if it was nothing. like bringing you gifts, groceries and inviting you to watch the movies where he was casted in.
without any doubt, he is good when it comes on manipulating you. i mean, he is an actor for the petesake. acting like a pitiful guy for your attention was really easy for him.
yandere top actor is definitely a husband material. because after he, himself, had witnessed how much of a disaster you were in a kitchen and how you spend all day eating junkfoods. yandere top actor decided to take this matter onto his own hands and cook your foods everyday.
you decided to ask him one time. how could a top-tier actor like him have too much time on his hand anyway? does he not have any work?
and what is yandere top actor's reply?
" do i look like i have to actually work, ( name )? "
ah, you forgot. this guy is already rich and acting was only his hobby.
many people thought that for yandere top actor, acting was everything. but they were wrong, because being born as his parents' children, yandere top actor had everything. money, influence, face, prestige and talent. he feels like everyone only sees him as an actor or a son from a wealthy family. and just by thinking about it was really tiring for him.
that was why he decided to end it all on that hospital- but thanks to that, he had meet you. the first person who made him feel "normal". maybe because of that, you became his everything.
anyway, without any doubt- yandere top actor is the type of a person who wouldn't hesitate to use his money for you.
just like that one time when you told him about how you finally got a new job and now, you were finding an apartment close to your company.
yandere top actor didn't hesitate to buy an apartment complex and asked you to move in with him. you blinked, agreeing easily.
but for some reasons, yandere top actor seemed to be displeased and a little worried? he put his hand on your shoulders and spoke.
“ don't say yes easily to anything or people might take advantage of you, ( name ), really. ”
“ but, i mean- it's you and you are not a stranger."
hearing your reply made yandere top actor's heart skip a beat. fudge, you are really bad for his heart.
but anyway, unknown to this guy. the main reason why you never called him out for his actions was because... you found him useful. around him, you didn't have to cook or clean- yeah, you know that you're being dependent but so what? he liked it when you depend on him anyway. but then, as time passed by. you had realized one thing.
it was the fact that you are slowly seeing this guy as "him". not the useful actor who likes to take care, to cook for you. but the guy who laughs with you, spends his whole time with you. it made you certain about one thing- you are fucked.
because you knew that if yandere top actor realized that. this guy would become more handful- more obsessive and clingy than before. ah, damn it.
￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣
"so you’re staying because of me, not the lifestyle? good... that means i don't have to feel guilty about making sure you never have a reason to leave this apartment again."
yandere!hunter... cw: heavy impact play and noncon!!!!!!
You've been running for what feels like days.
You can smell him, you can hear him. You know he's trailing after you and that he's getting closer and closer and closer. Your heart is beating so fast and so loud its the only thing you can hear for minutes on end. Everything hurts, you're tired and you're afraid. But you really can't stop running, because as soon as you stop he gets closer, and the cycle starts again.
But you're only prey, and prey gets exhausted far too easy. You can't feel your legs or feet, you can't feel anything at all as you're crawling. The crunching of the leaves isn't your body anymore, its his heavy combat boots too. He's mere centimeters away, you can smell the bloodlust that permeates the air the second he's near. You shake, curling into a little ball. A kick to your ribs makes you curl even more, and he smirks.
"I thought you were running," He murmurs, crouching to be at your level. Grabbing your jaw, forcing you to face him. You keep your eyes closed, you're crying and whimpering. The tears coming out of your eyes are too thick and heavy to let you see properly anyway. You sniffle, he slaps you. "Look at me when I'm talking," More tears, you can very clearly tell he's enjoying himself, you can really tell he's enjoying you, in pain and in distress. He's gentle this time, with the way he grabs you in his arms and the way he kisses the cheek he slapped. "C'mon, little rabbit. I didn't even have to fire a warning shot this time." You squirm in his arms at the mention of getting shot, too familiar with him to know he's not joking, that he would blow a piece of you clean off if you gave him the opportunity and the reason. He manhandles you as you struggle, futile efforts since his grip is inescapable.
Pinning you to the ground, you can hear how he undoes his belt. The smell of the earth is strong, and you can only breathe rapidly as he puts one hand on your neck to keep you in place. He's heavy, you can feel his weight as he bottoms out inside you. Your cunt fluttering around him, as a reminder that even your body can betray you with the way it welcomes him so easily. You remember now, that you ran away naked and scared and stupid. Because you're a prey animal, and prey never plan ahead. He pins one of your arms to the ground when you try and scratch, and his hand over the back of your neck squeezes harder. You're dizzy, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours suddenly brings you back to reality. The intrusion hurts, because his cock is way too big for your body, because your cunt is clearly not prepared enough even if you're getting even more wet every second that passes.
"Fight me, I know you want to," You struggle again, he frees your arm to smack your ass so hard you can't help but howl. You scream for help, even if nobody can hear you, even if nobody will come and rescue you. He flips you around with ease, like you're weightless. You try to scream again, he smacks you so hard you see stars. You can feel the side of your face burning with how much strenght he used to hit you, you can already imagine the bruise. Your eyes are wide, you're confused and dopey. Your chest rises and falls rapidly with your heavy breathing and your heart rate. He chokes you even more, making the confusion worse. You gasp for air, he lets go. He sits you over his dick, making you ride him, using you like you're a doll. You can't help but cling to him, aching for comfort. He slaps you again. "You don't deserve that after what you did, dumb slut," He grabs your chin with force, stopping his thrusts. "Look at me," He slaps your breasts, you cry out something, anything, he slaps them again. "You're mine, and if you ever try something like this again," He goes back to fucking you, his eyes filled with anger, with lust, with desire, with a deep disturbing love. "You'll belong to the worms and the earth too."
