[Song: I Found by Amber Run. I feel like this is a really good song for this fic. The lyrics fit it so perfectly, not to mention the fact that its such a beautiful song!]
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(Y/n)'s hands twisted in Stiles' hair, gripping tightly onto the chocolate locks while they laid together on his bed. He hovered above her, rough hands resting on her hips. She couldn't take her eyes off him, wishing to memorize every little feature of his being while she still could.
It would seem he had the same idea, but he used his hands. They moved against her soft skin, eyes shut tightly as he traced every dip and curve of her body by touch.
Neither of them can remember how long they had been lying like this, though by the way her foot was going numb would suggest that its been a while. They'd lost track of time again, just like they always did.
Just as he moved to kiss her lips, let his eyes fluttering shut, he found that he couldn't find what he desired.
His eyes opened, and suddenly he was in a completely black room.
A spot light flicked on, and (Y/n) sat tied to a chair, mouth tapped up and eyes wide and teary. He let out a gasp, trying to run to her but no matter how far he thinks he runs, it never seems like hes getting any closer to her.
A masked man suddenly emerges from the darkness, a sharp knife glistening in the light. He steps up to her, dragging the end of the blade up her arm, across her shoulder and up to her neck.
She let out a sob, a cry for help, but Stiles was frozen in place; as if his feet were glued to the floor.
The masked man presses the sharp blade to the middle of her neck, and with one swift movement he dragged it harshly to the right. As soon as Stiles saw the blood, he let his glaze fall to the dark floor.
He felt sick to his stomach, his hands shaking while he dared to look back up again.
He glanced toward the man to see him removing his mask, it slipping painfully slowly from his face. And what Stiles saw when it finally revealed the man's face sent his blood cold, and he almost felt as though he was going to throw up.
It was himself.
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Stiles awoke with a gasp, breathing heavily while he sat up in his bed. He rubbed his face in his hands, ridding it of the sweat that formed there while he was dreaming.
He'd been having this dream constantly for the past three days, it all ending the same way. He'd wake up breathless and confused, wising desperately to forget about it. Except he can't. No matter what he did, the image of (Y/n) being killed stuck right at the front of his brain.
Stiles crawled out of bed, creeping down the hallway and and downstairs.
He walked into the kitchen, fishing a cup out of a cupboard before filling it with tap water. He swallowed the entirety of it before placing the cup on the kitchen counter. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, head dipped while he shut his eyes.
What was wrong with him?
He isn't supposed to feel so drawn to someone he was supposed to kill. He told himself countless times that she meant nothing, and that the feelings would pass with time, but every time he looked her in the eyes, felt the softness of her skin against his much rougher hands, he began to second guess himself.
Love isn't supposed to be in a girl he had locked up in his basement.
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A/n: Sorry this update is just a filler, I couldn't really think up of anything for this chapter so here's this. I hope it isn't awful x
Also, thanks for 5k reads you wonderful people!
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Psychopath (Stiles AU)
Fanfictionpsychopath / noun; a person suffering from chronic mental disorder with abnormal or violent social behavior. ☩ "Lets play a game." "What game?" "A game of twisted nightmares."
