Favorite Fixation (Yandere boys x Reader)

116.) Finifugal

TW: GORE

Asahi took one shaky step into the closet, his figure a dark mass against the dim light filtering in from the room beyond. The moment he crossed the threshold, (Y/n)'s hands clenched around the industrial-grade flashlight. Without a second thought, she swung it down, all her weight behind the blow. The heavy metal struck the back of his skull with a gut-wrenching crack, and Asahi stumbled forward, his breath rasping as he grasped at the wall to steady himself. His fingers clawed at the air, desperate for balance, but she gave him no time to recover.

With a surge of determination, she swung again, harder this time, her rage fueling the impact as the flashlight crashed against his skull once more. He crumpled forward, collapsing to the ground, but as he rolled onto his back, he looked up at her with his one good eye, wide and bewildered. The left eye, a mess of swollen, blood-crusted flesh, was barely open, giving his face a grotesque, nightmarish look.

Her breaths were shallow and fast as she stood over him, her hands trembling with adrenaline. Then she saw it- the glint of steel as his hand clutched a pocket knife. He held it weakly, like even lifting it drained him of the last of his strength. But the defiance was still there, flickering in his bloodshot eye.

"The... the fuck are you doing?" he hissed, voice barely a whisper, his chest rising and falling unevenly as he blinked at her, disoriented.

The flashlight felt solid in her grip, the metal cold and unyielding, as though it understood the gravity of her intent. Without a word, she dropped to one knee, and then moved to straddle him, her heart pounding in her ears. He tried to raise the knife, but her arm moved faster, swinging the flashlight down toward his forehead. The blunt force hit hard, a sickening thud reverberating as his head jerked back. His hand flew up, instinctively trying to shield himself, but she knocked it aside, sending the knife clattering out of his grip, landing a few feet away, forgotten.

"Stop-" he gasped, his voice fragile as blood trickled from his mouth. She could see his body writhing under her, desperate for air and relief, but her grip tightened, her jaw clenched. She raised the flashlight once more, her movements precise, mechanical.

"This... this is for Aiko," she spat, her voice cold, sharp with rage. She brought the flashlight down again, the heavy metal connecting with a sickening crunch that echoed in the confined space. His body jolted, his pleas fading into weak gasps as his remaining eye filled with confusion, then terror.

"(Y/n), plea-" he tried to speak, but his words barely escaped his lips, choked off as she swung again. The flashlight came down against his temple, his face twisting as his strength waned, each labored breath rattling in his chest. Occasionally, the flashlight would flicker on and off from the brunt of the impact, drowning the room in a subtle glow of red before turning off again.

"This is for my mother," she continued, her voice choked, each word an outlet for the anger that burned within her. The flashlight crashed down once more, the unyielding metal bruising, cutting, forcing the life from his expression. Her grip was steady now, her focus unyielding. She didn't even feel the burn in her muscles; all that existed in this moment was her, the weight of her loss, and the blood-streaked figure beneath her.

As she raised the flashlight yet again, her vision blurred with tears, but her hands gripped the handle tighter, refusing to release the anger simmering inside her. "And this... this is for me." She brought it down with all the force she had left, each blow a release of months of fear and pain. The flashlight connected with his face in a sickening crunch, and she watched as the features she had come to hate warped and collapsed under the relentless strikes.