(Just a head's up, this is a side-story for me, so it may not be updated as often as others!)
(3RD PERSON -accidentally wrote it I'm 3rd POV)
"Toughen up, (Y/n)," Toby mumbled as he pointed at the cardboard target. "Let's get this o-over with. It has no s-suppressor and someone might hear it."
(Y/n) held the gun firmly and tried to gain her withering confidence. "Just bored, but on a scale of Chuck Norris to Chuck Norris 2.0, how good is your shooting aim?"
"How about w-we end useless questions," he mumbled beneath his mouth guard. "Straighten your arm." She did as he said. "Turn off t-the safety and aim at the t-target," he ordered, his neck twitching slightly.
"No, like this," he sighed and held the gun, "Hold it like this.
"Okay, Twitchy," (Y/n) felt his glare, but truly she couldn't care less. Staring her down would be a useless tactic to frighten her. Then again, she knows from first-hand he could and would kill her if needed, perhaps wanted to, on the spot. He killed people before, so she wished dearly to not be on his shit list.
Two hours of practicing in the same abandoned house they hid in before, (Y/n) was getting the hang of the small fire arm. "Alright, (Y/n), t-try to aim correctly, m'kay?" Toby mumbled behind (Y/n), whom was rolling her eyes. Toby scoffed, "Eh. Here," he leaned against (Y/n) and tried to help her where to aim. (Y/n) realized how space between them became non-existent, causing the faint blush to appear on her cheeks.
Few minutes and they were leaving the woods together to (Y/n)'s home. Toby slouched as he walked beside (Y/n), who kept on admiring the gun. "(Y/n), you know that store down F-Fourteen Street?"
She nodded, "Which one?"
"The one with that old man who's always s-smoking outside all the time," Toby replied.
"Oh yeah, that one. Still can't believe he's alive still. Ever since I was itty bitty, he's always been smoking cigars and cigarettes outside the store."
"Well, y-your house is just there- here," Toby handed her a slim, folded piece of paper. "Old guy's nephew has to go." He patted her on the shoulder and left, putting his goggles and mouth guard back on.
"Umm... Adios?" (Y/n) called to him.
"Oh, I'm not ready for this at all!" (Y/n) ripped her temples and stared at the paper with a picture printed onto it. She desperately hoped this to be a prank and Toby would jump out of no where and be like: "Oh, guess what, I'm kidding!"
Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. Why did she have to kill this guy? Does Toby has some grudge or something. (Y/n)'s (e/c) eyes scanned the picture. Brown, curly hair, tan skin, and skinny lil shit. Yup, seems like a lot of the rednecks around here.
How would she even get away with it? Agh. Everything was very out of control in her mind.
(Short chapter, sort of a what-should-I-do-tonight kind of chapter)
YOU ARE READING
Under Control (Ticci Toby X Reader)
Fanfiction(May contain sensitive topics) Things never went as plan as (Y/n) hoped. Her family had dissipated, leaving her with her solemn aunt. There, she was alone and liked it that way. When she had developed bad habits of drinking, she was falling into her...
