meadow-writings

[meadow-writings]

Yandere Kidnapper Prompt: "This Is Why You Need Me"

-----------

You’d gotten used to the silence.

The cabin was quiet, tucked so deep in the woods that even birds seemed reluctant to sing too loud. He never left your side—never more than a few feet away, like a shadow stitched to your spine. You’d learned to play nice. Laugh at his jokes. Eat the food he cooked. Sleep in the bed he picked out for you. The doors were always locked. The windows sealed tight. But you were allowed to roam the house. You were allowed to breathe. And that, he reminded you, was his gift to you.

So when, for the first time in days, he stepped outside alone—to water the plants he loved almost as much as he loved you—you knew it was your chance.

Your heart slammed against your ribs as you tiptoed to the opposite side of the house, the one facing away from his garden. One window. Just one. You slammed your elbow into it, shattering the glass in a violent crunch. The sound was deafening, but you didn’t stop. You climbed through, ignoring the jagged shards slicing your skin—

And then your world exploded into pain.

The metal clamped shut around your leg with a horrific SNAP, the jagged jaws of a bear trap sinking deep into flesh and bone. Your scream tore through the trees, but no one came. No one but him.

He was there in seconds, eyes wide with something between panic and... disappointment.

“Shhh, shhh, baby, I’m here—I’m here,” he whispered, crouching beside your writhing body. “Why would you do this to yourself? Why would you try to leave me?”

You sobbed and beat your fists against his chest, your face twisted in agony. He held you like you were fragile china and carried you back inside, humming some lullaby under his breath. Blood soaked into his shirt.

He cleaned your wounds with such gentleness it almost hurt worse. The bandages were tight. The kisses he pressed against your tear-stained cheeks were soft. Too soft.

“This… this is why you need me,” he whispered. “You're not ready to be out there. You’d die without me. I told you. I warned you.”

You didn’t hear the snap in his voice, but it was there.

And then came the food. He insisted you needed strength. That your body couldn’t heal on tears alone. You were too weak to argue. Too tired. And after a few bites, your limbs began to turn to water. The ceiling spun slowly. You blinked, sluggish. Helpless.

You didn’t know that he’d crushed sedatives into every bite.

You didn’t know this was all a test—one he believed you’d failed.

Now, you barely move from the bed. Your thoughts are cloudy, like smoke on glass. Every time you wake, he’s there, brushing your hair back, murmuring sweet things like:

“Good girl. You’re safe now.”

“You won’t ever hurt yourself again.”

“I’ll take care of everything.”

“This is for your own good.”

You don’t scream anymore. You barely speak. And that, to him, is proof that he was right all along.

This is your life now.

And he never plans to let you leave again.

[meadow-writings]

You hadn’t seen it coming.

The day had stretched out like any other—uneventful, quiet. You were walking home, the sun dipping low, painting the sky in fading shades of pink and purple. The air was crisp, filled with the familiar smells of the city settling into night: wet pavement, distant exhaust, the faint aroma of food from a nearby diner.

Your thoughts wandered aimlessly, distracted by worries and plans that now seemed trivial. You didn’t notice the figure until it was too late.

A rough hand clamped over your mouth, stifling the scream you barely had time to breathe. Panic flooded your senses, sharp and immediate. You twisted and fought, heart pounding wildly in your chest, but the grip was merciless—unyielding. The other hand yanked you backward into the shadows of a narrow alleyway.

You kicked and struggled, desperate, but the arms that held you were like iron. Every attempt to break free only tightened their hold. Your blindfold was forced over your eyes moments later, plunging you into a suffocating blackness that swallowed every detail of your surroundings. Your breathing became shallow, ragged, the world reduced to the pounding of your own heart and the slick, raw taste of fear.

Your wrists were bound tightly with rough rope. You flexed your fingers, tested the knots, but the bonds were firm. Cold metal scraped briefly against your skin—handcuffs or shackles—yet you couldn’t be sure.

“Quiet,” the voice near your ear hissed, low and urgent. “No noise.”

The threat sent a shiver down your spine, but your terror screamed louder than obedience. You fought the urge to scream or cry, swallowing it down, biting your lip until it bled. You tried to focus, to think—how far had they dragged you? Which way were you being taken?

Your feet scraped on cold, uneven concrete. The scent of damp earth and rust filled your nose—something underground, something old and forgotten.

A heavy door slammed shut somewhere behind you, muffling the outside world. No more city noises, no distant voices or traffic, just the harsh echo of your captor’s footsteps as they moved you further into the darkness.

You wanted to scream again, to rage against this nightmare, but your voice was useless. All you could do was breathe, and fight the overwhelming wave of helplessness that threatened to pull you under.

Minutes stretched endlessly. Time blurred. You didn’t know how long you’d been dragged here, or how long you would remain trapped. Your mind churned with desperate thoughts—plans to escape, memories of every self-defense trick you’d ever learned, the face of anyone who might come looking for you.

A soft sound startled you—a shuffle of footsteps, a creak. Then the faint scrape of metal against stone. A key turning in a lock?

The blindfold was abruptly yanked away.

Blinding light flooded your vision, forcing you to blink rapidly. The room was small, cold, with walls stained by years of neglect. The air smelled of mold and dust, thick and stale. You were in a basement, you realized with sinking dread.

He stood there—your captor—his face half-shadowed but his eyes fierce and unreadable. The hand that had held you was still trembling slightly.

“You’re here,” he said softly, almost to himself. “Safe now.”

But the word “safe” felt like a lie. The chains clinked softly as you shifted, wrists aching. You could barely move, barely think beyond the crushing wave of fear and pain.

“Why?” you whispered, voice raw.

His gaze didn’t waver. “Because you’re important. Because I can’t let you go.”

You wanted to scream. To run. To fight. But the walls closed in, the silence pressed down, and you were caught in this nightmare with no clear way out.

Yet, beneath the terror, beneath the confusion, a flicker of something else sparked inside you—something stubborn and fierce.

You would survive this. You had to.

[meadow-writings]

(author's note: this is my first writing for Jayce so it might not be entirely accurate but I'm planning on doing a pt.2 to this with some juicy stuff, so here's a little opener for y'all. 😋🫶🏻)

Jayce Talis x Reader

(spicy, suggestive, romantic, kissing, ect, no smut yet)

-----------

It had been a long day—the kind that seemed to stretch on without end, each task more draining than the last. Exhausting didn't even begin to cover it. All you wanted now, more than anything, was to throw yourself onto the welcoming expanse of the couch, retreat into the brightly colored world of your favorite show, and mindlessly munch on a family-sized bag of chips. The thought alone was enough to make your shoulders sag with relief.

The familiar jingle of keys echoed as you fumbled with the lock, finally turning it and pushing the door open. Stepping inside, you scanned the entryway, half-expecting to see someone, but the house was blessedly empty. A wave of gratitude washed over you. Kicking off your shoes, one flying haphazardly towards the coat rack, you tossed your coat over the back of a chair and practically collapsed onto the couch. The cushions sighed in response, molding to your weary form.

You lay there for a moment, savoring the silence, the absence of ringing phones and demanding voices. It was a balm to your frayed nerves. But the lure of a salty, crunchy snack was too strong to resist. With a groan, you pushed yourself up, the effort making your muscles ache in protest. You made your way towards the kitchen, the linoleum cool beneath your stockinged feet, the promise of food a beacon in the fading light.

And that's when you heard the unmistakable click of the front door opening again. Your heart sank. Your boyfriend, Jayce, must've been home early. You internally rolled your eyes, a wave of disappointment washing over you. You loved him, of course, but tonight, all you craved was solitude and the soothing hum of the television.

Planting your hands on the cool, smooth surface of the kitchen counter, you took a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily. You could almost taste the chips, feel the satisfying crunch between your teeth. But the image was shattered as—you felt him. He pressed himself firmly against your back, his body heat radiating through your thin shirt, his hot breath tickling your ear, shattering the fragile peace you'd briefly found. A shiver ran down your spine, a mix of annoyance and something else you couldn't quite name.

"Hey, baby. How was work today?" Jayce's voice washed over you, a familiar wave of warmth and optimism that usually lifted your spirits. It was a low, comforting rumble, laced with the affection that always made you feel safe.

"Endless," you replied, the word feeling heavy as it left your lips. More than just tired, you were emotionally drained. "I'm ready for bed."

"Bed?" A soft laugh escaped him, the sound a gentle question in the air. "It's only six."

You rolled your eyes, a sigh escaping your lips. It wasn't about the time; it was about the weight of the day pressing down on you. "I can go to bed whenever I want," you retorted, a touch of defensiveness creeping into your voice.

The shift in his demeanor was subtle but immediate. The easygoing smile faded, replaced by a concerned furrow of his brow. He gently cupped your chin, his calloused thumb brushing against your cheekbone, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually bright with amusement, were now etched with concern. "Something happen today?" he asked, his voice softer, laced with a tenderness that usually melted your resolve.

A familiar warmth bloomed in your chest at his concern, a testament to the depth of his love. But tonight, it felt like an unwelcome intrusion. The last thing you wanted was to dissect the day, to unpack the frustration and disappointment that had settled deep in your bones. You just wanted to escape, to retreat into the silence and solitude of sleep. "No! Just leave me alone," you snapped, the words sharper than you intended. The instant they left your mouth, regret flickered across your face, a shadow of guilt darkening your features. "Sorry..." you muttered, barely audible, the apology swallowed by the weight of your exhaustion.

Jayce recoiled slightly, a flicker of hurt in his eyes, but his touch remained gentle, unwavering. He stroked your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline, then began to knead the tense muscles in your shoulders. His touch was firm but tender, a silent offering of comfort. You leaned into his touch, a small sigh escaping your lips as the knot of tension in your neck began to loosen. "I can make it better," he murmured, his voice a low, suggestive hum that vibrated against your skin. His meaning was clear, an unspoken promise of pleasure and intimacy. "If you'd let me, of course."

You hummed noncommittally, savoring the warmth of his hands on your skin, the way his touch seemed to chase away the shadows of the day. He pressed soft kisses to your cheek, each one a gentle reassurance, then trailed them down your neck, his lips lingering on the sensitive skin beneath your ear. A shiver ran down your spine, a mixture of anticipation and reluctance. He paused, his breath warm against your skin, the scent of his cologne filling your senses. "I need an answer, darling," he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

You turned to face him, a playful smile dancing on your lips, excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “You've got my permission to do whatever you want,” you said with a cheeky glint in your eye, your heart racing at the thrill of the moment.

Jayce chuckled, a rich sound that sent a thrill through you, making your stomach flutter with anticipation. In an instant, he hoisted you up by the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing at all, and set you down on the counter with a gentle yet firm motion. The cool surface beneath you contrasted with the warmth radiating from his body, and before you could fully process what was happening, your lips met in a passionate kiss. It was electric, igniting a spark between you that made everything else fade into the background.

As your kiss deepened, you could feel his hands exploring your waist, pulling you closer as he began to trail soft kisses down your neck. Each gentle brush of his lips sent shivers down your spine, and you could hardly contain the excitement building within you. “I'm going to make you feel so good,” he boasted, his voice teasingly low, filled with promise as he moved lower, his intentions clear.

“Oh yeah?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your face, wanting to see just how far he would take this.

“Yeah,” he replied confidently, the heat in his gaze making your heart race even faster. He sank to his knees in front of you, his eyes locked on yours, filled with a mix of desire and determination that made your breath hitch. You could feel the tension in the air, thick with anticipation, as you wondered just what he had planned next. The world around you seemed to vanish, leaving just the two of you in this intoxicating moment, and you couldn't help but feel excited about where this would lead.