Mystic Messenger x Seme Male Reader

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟.\\ Seven x Male!Reader x Vanderwood

"𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍"

× 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝘀 : ×
• pure fluff with a grain of angst ;
• 2nd pov ;
• there was only one bed but make it three people .

× 𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : ×
• spoilers for Seven's real name (as if there's anyone who doesn't know it yet) .

× 𝗞𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 : ×
(Y/n)  —  your name .

『 > Agents dream of the life they will never have. 』

a/n :
Life's been getting a lil better recently. Guess I have no right to delay updates now, lol

~~~~

"Is this a joke?"

"Be glad we don't have to sleep in the car this time." Vanderwood huffed.

The cabin you were supposed to stay in, only had two single beds.

The three of you exchanged glances and Vanderwood rolled his eyes in advance, knowing what will happen. Right after, Seven rushed to the other end of the room and jumped on the bed.

"This one's mine!"

"I'll ask to give us a different room." the brown-haired agent sighed before leaving the cabin.

"...Nothing will come out of it," you said quietly, voicing both your and Luciel's thoughts.

Not wanting to upset Vanderwood even more, you threw your bag at Seven.

"Ouch!" he rubbed his side. "Hey, wait! I got here first."

"Nobody asked."

You sat on the edge of the bed, taking your shoes off. The hacker turned to face you, resting his head on his hands.

"I thought wounded warriors have a right to personal beds."

You glanced at him skeptically.
"You got your finger caught in the car door."

"A wound is a wound." Seven smiled.

"Yeah," you chuckled back. "We should make boss pay you a premium for being injured on a mission."

Your conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. The two of you immediately fell silent. Yesterday you suspected you were being followed, so now you had to be alert all the time.

Grabbing your bag, you both jumped behind the bed.

"You or me?" you whispered, grabbing guns from the bag and tossing one to Seven.

"You."

"No you."

"Rock-paper-scissors?"

"We don't have time for this!"

Another knock, a louder one.

"Motherf-- Fine!"

You quickly moved to the door, trying to remain unnoticed through the window, and peeked through the peephole. The blurry face certainly didn't belong to Vanderwood, but they weren't holding any weapons either.

Another knock.
"Towels for your room, sir!"

You and Seven exchanged glances.

"We need those towels," he whispered with his lips only.

You rolled your eyes, and glanced through the peephole again, trying to gauge the threat.

'Whoever they are, if they send such wimps, they're underestimating us.'