in the midst of a storm | yandere x reader

07. a storm so violent that it's peaceful

"WHAT... HAPPENED TO YOU..?"

It's as though your words ain't registerin' in his mind, ain't sinking in past the daze of his eyes, 'cause he don't respond—

—well, not with words, at least.

It's loud; his growl—all low and deep and croaky. It travels through the ground, vibrates the pebbles under you 'til they're bouncin' 'round like the kids in town, 'til they're rolling and rolling over to your side with loud, blaring horns and blinkin', red lights.

You take a step back.

Louder.

Then another.

Deeper.

Then—

—he pounces, and you're tumbling back 'fore you can even blink.

His hands, you notice, are like claws; sharp claws what sink into your arms and cause a sudden, searing burn unlike any you've felt before. It has you reeling, breath sucking itself in between your teeth as your eyes squeeze shut—

—'fore shooting straight back open.

Something fell on your cheek. Something slimy and gross and—

Oh god, they're staring right at you—them sharp, piercing blades in his mouth—glarin' with a hunger, a sick, twisted sense of excitement that swirls in their eyes.

Your lids widen, pupils shrinking as the cold in your veins filters out in favour of bein' replaced by a fiery warmth what breathes life into your limbs; strength what helps your arms push.

Then he's off you, and he takes a good chunk o' your flesh with 'im.

Your hands fall behind you, fingers curlin' as grains o' sand dance between each one. They frolic under you, scream and howl and cry in laughter as you desperately crawl away, as your breath quickens and your chest pulses.

"Uncle Aaron, it's me! It's pea!"

But it's no use, he ain't listenin'.

You draw in a sharp breath as he lunges once more—this time, though, you're prepared, dodging it with a swift roll to the right.

Then you feel it—the horrid burn what engulfs your arms—and you find yourself hissin' at those pesky grains mocking your wounds with burnin' jabs at each side o' you.

Gun. Use the goddamn gun, Y/N!

You fumble, fingers pullin' on the strap 'round you in an attempt to bring the weapon to'ard your front.

You're not fast enough.

Uncle Aaron—can you even call him that anymore?—is fuckin' relentless.

He lunges at you for the third time, jaw open wide as that slimy substance drops from the roof of his mouth, coating his teeth in their disgustin' wake.

You thrust the gun in front o' you, hands growing warm as the inside of his mouth surrounds 'em, as the prick of them sharp points comes close to almost piercing your skin.

It's so... what's the word?

His growl blasts your face with heat, and you find yourself squinting to avoid the spray of water what goes with it.

Ah, right. "Disgustin'."

Another growl draws you back in, hands shakin' all frantic-like as the man—beast—refuses to let go, clampin' down harder than ever before.

This ain't good. This ain't good at all.

He's holding your only shot at beatin' him hostage, how the hell're you supposed to get it back when his grip is this unrelenting?

Think, Y/N, think! What would daddy do?

Your pa... your pa would say to look for any weaknesses, any point where you can catch 'im off guard. Just like he once did with Perkins way back when he was still in the bounty huntin' business.

Weaknesses...

Your eyes trail down, 'fore widening.

Then your knee comes hurdlin' up.

And you're launched straight back with your weapon still in your hands.

Perfect.

You rise up, knees wobblin' as your legs finally, finally find purchase once more.

The wind picks up, your daddy's stetson restin' high and stubborn on your head as the rapids fly 'round it. Your poncho dances with the currents as they engulf your hands with their own, aiding you in rising the heavy thing you're holding and whispering words of encouragement into your ear as you take aim.

Then E/C meets with E/C, and time stops.

All of a sudden, your uncle's back, standin' right where that beast once was and smiling real wide at ya—real big and happy-like.

"It's me, pea," he says, "It's your uncle Aaron."

Your grip loosens 'round the trigger.

He lunges.

And a bang resounds into the night.

Your ears are ringing, and you blink a few times 'fore you register the gaping hole located right through the middle o' your uncle. You can see the bright red what lines its edges, what drips down from the top o' the shape like a damn waterfall.

The growling's stopped.

From the other side, you spy double barrels—smoke visibly leakin' off them—paired with a familiar dirty blond.

"For fuck's sake, Y/N, I told you to wait!"

Your head falls with the body—with your uncle.

He lays there. Like the outlaws. Like the cattle. Like the—

"Y/N!"

You blink, and finally register the arms planted firmly on your shoulders.

"Shit. Yer bleedin'."

So it seems you are.

And so is uncle Aaron.

"Uncle..." you try to speak, to call out to him and tell him he can stop playin' this silly game with you 'cause you ain't no little girl no more... but it's useless, there's a lump stoppin' you.

Cold. It's so. cold.

You're shiverin' 'cause it's just so. damn. cold.

"Y/N."

Rough, calloused fingers grab ahold o' your jaw, and soon your blurry vision meets with that familiar pair of almost-glowing green.

"Get a hold o' yerself."

You blink one... two... three more times.

Then it all comes out.

Cries. Sobs. Wails. All of it—it all comes out, and the Sheriff's arms're around you in an instant.

But... for some goddamn reason, it's still. so. cold.

Just wanna let you guys know that I received fanart for this fic ^^
It's over on quotev in case you want to view it. You'll find it on this same chapter. I'm not putting it here on wattpad in case the artist doesn't wish for their art to be on this site (I never clarified if they do or don't with them so I won't put it here just to be safe).