Lookism Gun x Reader: How The Mighty Fall In Love

Sorry Gunny Gun Bun Bun

"Want water?" I asked walking into the kitchen.

"Sure." He called back and I smiled.

Sorry Gunny Gun Bun Bun...

I grabbed a cup and placed it on the counter. I filled it with water and scratched my wrist while clicking a button on one of the gems on my bracelet.

A small drop of colorless, tasteless and orderless liquid dripped on to the tip of my finger.

I rubbed it on the lip of the glass before I grabbed a new glass cup.

Sorry again!

I let it slip and gasped loudly as it fell to the floor.

"Are you okay?!" Gun asked and ran over.

"I'm sorry! It slipped!" I apologized.

"It's fine, here, I'll get the broom."

"No, I can pick it up."

I had to be careful not to cut myself. One, cuts hurt. Two, I don't want this sleeping drug to enter my system.

"Your water is right there by the way." I said as I picked up the pieces on the floor. I threw them away and washed my hands well to get the drug off. Poor glass needed to break in order to give me an excuse to wash my hands after doing nothing but pouring him a glass of water.

Don't wanna seem sus

I dried my hands off on my shirt and poured myself a glass in a clean cup.

Gun finished his water and put it down. I downed my water and stretched. I have two minutes to get him to lay down before he passes out peacefully.

"Wanna watch a movie in my room?" I asked and he nodded.

"Sure."

We made our way up to my room slowly, taking up a minute.

He took his shirt off like he always does.

50 seconds.

He fumble with his belt and placed it on the nightstand.

He never gets in bed with his pants on, not even next to me.

30 seconds.

He flopped in bed next to me and his eyes drooped.

He yawned.

20 seconds.

"Tired?"

"Yeah...I'm just going to close my eyes for a second..." He mumbled and I nodded.

10 seconds.

Consider his age, height, weight and gender, I have about four hours until he wakes up. I don't know if that will be enough time, but I'll have to make due.

Besides, Plato is hard to get information on so it might be more than enough.

I slipped on my glasses and checked for active cameras or audio recorders.

None.

Perfect.

I took out a wipe and cleaned his lips to get rid of any excess drug.

I grabbed my laptop and went downstairs to read comfortably. I sat on the couch and put in the USB. I typed in the password and sighed as I pressed enter.

Here we go.

Well that's not good.

It hasn't been good for two hours. Death Essence found a lot more on him then we did, and he's been busy...

How did we not find any of this ourselves? Are we not trying hard enough? I'll have to give him something in return for him telling me how he got all this information...or maybe I can get it out of him for free!

Although he's hella stingy at times....

Ugh. I hate my job!

...Sometimes...

I'm going to kill Plato.

I'm going to kill him for what he did. For EVERYTHING he did!

I'M the one that will kill him. I made that clear to all the other organizations. If they kill him, New Group will pay them a little visit that they won't like.

After it's done though, they won't care very much. It's hard to give a shit when you're dead and scatter across camp.

I read over the report again for the millionth time and sighed.

I don't understand how he's killed so many and keeps hiding so well!

Well, that's a lie. I could do it too and never be tracked down. I can't be found unless I want to be found. Everyone knows that.

I need an excuse to travel to get this bitch. But by the time you finish a report, Plato has hit five different countries around the world and on to his next.

I hate myself. How dare I?