(daddy's little girl) (Permanently Discontinued)

chapter twenty-two

The breeze blew through your wings and hair, blowing them back. The moon hung over the wrath's ring sky, it was so bright you could almost see the stars that were covered by the smog produced by the newly made factorys.

Bombproof chuffed lightly, fire leaving his maw as he snapped his jaws shut.

Striker sighed in contentment, inhaling the air. It still slightly smelled like cigarettes and burning garbage, how he could enjoy the smell was beyond you. But who were you to judge, you lived in the smoggiest City and enjoyed living there.

Looking forward you watched as bombproof came to a stop in front of the old theme park. The gates were decayed and covered in rust and moss.

The game booths and rollercoasters from what you could see were burnt, charred and missing parts.

"Um, why are we here exactly?"

You question, sliding off bombproof ungracefully.

"Just felt like bringing ya. To explore and just hang out I guess."

He mumbled hopping off of bombproof rubbing his hands together.

Shoving your hands down into your pockets you moved forward towards the old rusted gate. How this place was still somewhat intact was beyond you. Pulling out a hand you pushed the gate open slowly, the rust beneath your fingers crumbled slowly.

Striker followed behind, placing a hand against the gate he traced the patterns made by the rust before moving forward. Passing the old stalls you moved between old burnt booths, stepping over charred pieces of wood.

"Good Satan! It smells like death and shit."

Striker exclaimed, covering his nose with his red scarf thing.

Rolling your eyes you continued to move forward looking for something interesting.

"Your the one who wanted to come here dumbass."

Striker scoffed tossing his hat at you, instantly regretting as you grabbed the hat, looking over at him slyly as you traced the rim of it.

Approaching you slowly he reached for the hat.

"Now, y/n. Play nice, can I have my hat."

He spoke slowly, as if at any moment you'd do something drastic.

Humming you tapped your chin, thinking before answering.

"Oh? This hat?"

You asked coyly, holding it up while looking at it.

"No, I don't think you mean this hat."

You spoke, pulling the hat to your chest, stepping back slowly as striker advanced on you.

"Y/n. Do you know who your fuckin' with? I wrangle huge ass hogs without a hitch, I assassinate blue bloods for a living. Don't think for a second I can't take your ass down- hey! Get back here!"

He shouted out, chasing after you as you jumped, dodged and weaved through stalls and booths laughing.

"You sneaky shit."

Striker mumbles, pushing himself to run faster after you. You were no where in sight, you must of taken shelter In one of the remaining stalls. But which one you were in was gonna be hard. Because at anytime if he was checking a stall, you could make a run for it.

So he opted to lay traps down, a not so visible net he laid on the ground. It wouldn't cause you harm. Satan forbid it, he would never be able to forgive himself if he ever did.

Stepping back he grinned, hiding behind a stall.

A hand tapped his shoulder and a cold 'ahem' filled his ear.

Turning around his eyes widen. Crimson was standing behind him, holding your hand and holding the reins of bombproof in the other.

"Care to explain at home?"

Crimson spat out, he knew there would be consequences leaving you alone in a room where the window is openable. He'd just have to nail it shut and buy you a fan for your room.

He was not impressed with your little stunt, not one bit. He was gonna ground you, and give another punishment after that.

Word count 646