Infectious Submission (M. Yandere x Fem. Reader)

The cold, damp tiles pressed into your aching bones, a familiar torment. The dim, flickering light in your cell did little to pierce the oppressive darkness, a darkness that had become your constant companion. You rolled onto your stomach, the coarse dirt on the floor grating against your skin, each movement a fresh reminder of the cuts and scrapes that adorned your body. A soft groan escaped your lips, quickly swallowed by the cavernous silence of the abandoned subway.
Relaxation was a foreign concept here, a luxury you couldn't afford. He could return at any moment—minutes, hours, days, there was no telling. Your body twitched at the mere thought of him, the memory of his 'sessions' a fresh wound on your mind. You tried to push yourself up, but exhaustion weighed you down like a heavy shroud. Your eyes scanned the filthy floor, searching for something, anything, to distract from the gnawing fear that was your only true constant.
