Helluva Boss X Reader (Season 1)

CHAPTER 17: PATIENCE

Moxxie: EVERYONE at the shooting range had to evacuate! This is a fiasco...

Millie: Aww, you're doin' your best hon.

Moxxie: I'm not saying this for me, Millie. Y/N is too young for this.

Millie: Oh come on Moxx!  Y'know a lot of us are taught that kind of stuff as soon as we learn to walk.

Blitzø: Are you sure no one here can see us, Mills?

Millie takes her eyes off her cell phone to see her boss who's waiting for her answer.

Blitzø impatiently wags his tail without changing his sniper stance, letting only the weapon's suppressor to peek on the edge of a London building's roof where they both wait for their victim.

The IMP employee puts her cell phone in her pants pocket and takes out her binoculars to look for signs of life on the street.

Millie: Oh!  Yes sir, there ain't any humans in the perimeter for now, most of them are at work, or at school or... drugged and unconscious on some poorer street than this one.

Blitzø: Ok great!  We'll just have to worry that no one hears the shot when I blow the bastard's brains out.

Millie picks up her ax to lean against it, bored.  The job given to them today is so simple that a single Imp could do it, but somehow she must help if she wants to get paid.

The Imp's cell phone vibrates once more, notifying her that her husband has sent her a message.

Moxxie: I don't mean she's small in age.. She's too.. innocent you know?  I don't think this'll work.

She frowns at Moxx's message.

Millie: Where are you now?

Moxxie: We're heading back to the office, but I wanted to stop at a coffee shop to tell you all this and release some stress.

Millie: Oh honey..

Moxxie: And also because I wanted a venti caramel iced macchiato.  with 15 vanilla syrup pumps, made with HEAVY WHIPPING CREAM, barely ice, one shot, with added whip, extra caramel drizzle, a dash of....

Millie stopped reading the message and turned off her cell phone when she saw that the text was 28 paragraphs long.  She sighed and walked over to Blitzø, laying down on the edge of the roof next to him for fun.

Millie: It seems that training your little hellhound will take time.

The boss hearing this lets out a long groan and looks up at the sky.

Blitzø: UUUUGH.  Don't even mention it. When I tried to train her to punch, she couldn't even scratch the training dummy.

Mills couldn't help but notice that her boss, thinking of Y/N, put so much pressure on his sniper rifle that she almost expected it to break suddenly.

She knows that Blitzø wasn't really in favor of training his new daughter, but she can see this is something that really stresses him out for some reason.

Millie: Wouldn't it be better to take your daughter to a militarized assassin's academy?

Blitzø: A what the fuck now?

Millie: An academy, y'know.  With people who have more experience in teachin' this kind of thing?

Blitzø looks away for a few seconds and thinks about the proposal but also about his plans.

Blitzø: Nah, no shit.  I'd have to spend a ton at that crap, more than we earn in this business.

He frowns again irritated and settles down a bit trying to refocus on work.

Blitzø: Besides, all that money would go to heaven since that girl isn't capable of hurting even a cheap fornicated squeaky toy.

Millie: Well, maybe it's 'cause she's only 7 years old.

The Imp sniper, without taking his sights off the metal door below in the opposite building, where his victim should be coming out in a while, snorts.

Blitzø: Oh please.  At half her age, you already sharpened axes and threw them at your victims with good aim.

Millie: Yeah, but it's 'cause my parents trained me to kill relentlessly.  Meanwhile Y/N has been with a family for less than a week.

Blitzø's employee fiddles with her ax, throwing it up and catching it over and over again for entertainment.

Millie: There hasn't been anyone to teach that girl how the world works outside of that adoption center 'til now.

Blitzø furrows his eyebrows as he pays attention to Millie, thinking about what she said.

He looks at Big Ben, looming in the distance to check the time, and seeing there are still a few minutes left before the victim arrives at his location as stated by the client, he lowers the rifle and shifts his position to face the Millie.

Blitzø: You were willing to learn this shit. You've always been thrilled by blood and murder, like every single hellborn.  But that kid questions every little fucking thing.  She wishes everyone to be pure happiness and sugar to turn any malnourished vegan into a diabetic. She's not into being a mercenary.

Millie: Well, if she insisted on bein' a part of IMP even after knowin' what we do, it's 'cause she's interested.

They both go silent for a few seconds.  Blitzø is already mentally exhausted from thinking about that kid and his situation non-stop. He wants to stop caring so he can focus on work or anything else.

Blitzø: I don't know what to do with her..

The sound of a metal gate opening causes the Imps to refocus and scurry out of sight as they peek out.  The victim, an adult in his fifties, leaves the building to lean against the wall of the alley to smoke, as indicated by the client.

The Imp boss silently thanks Satan for his victim's arrival and moves back into position, finally forgetting about the subject. He aims the sniper rifle directly at the man's head.

Blitzø: You say when Mills.

Millie nods and looks up at Big Ben to see that the clock is about to strike 4 o'clock and the countdown begins.

Millie: In 3.. 2.. 1.. Kill that bitch!

Blitzø pulls the trigger, the gunshot noise drowned out by the loud ding dong of the giant clock.  And so, no one listens when the smoking man drops dead and not from lung cancer.

The proud Imp walks away from the edge and gives his employee a high-five.

Blitzø: Headshot and perfect stealth, I'm an ace at these things.  It's becoming like a retarded baby game to me.

He pulls out his cell phone to dial Loona to send them back to hell, but Millie remains absorbed in this as she just had an epiphany.

Millie: A game...

Tomorrow she has to train Y/N.