Oneshots- Anyone, any request

~Valentine's Day~ Gregory x Reader x Christophe

This was requested by @Weirdeerer
Thank you for requesting this! I love the mercenary boys, so this was super fun to write. Enjoy!

Valentine's Day.

A day for the couples to share their love, for families to smile and embrace their brethren, and for loners of all ages to forget their loneliness by indulging in new drunken affairs.

And such is the day we concentrate upon, in a hotel called Jones.

The hotel bar was exceptionally full that night, from people trying to start new relationships, or forget past ones. The room was filled with a heavy, boozy haze that brought with it the barely-resistible temptation of a fun night out.

Amidst the bright lights and laughter sat three young mercenaries from South Park, Colorado.

As much as they wanted to party, they couldn't- they had a new task. But alas, Valentine's Day isn't for everyone.
One of the mercenaries, a scathy brunet, chuckled as he lit a cigarette. "I bet you think eet sucks ass that ve 'ave to vork on St. Valentine's," he said with a heavy French accent.
His partner, a female, scoffed. "As if. I'd much rather be working then getting laid."
"Zaid no one ever."
"Shut it, Frenchie."
A sigh was heard from the final member of the party, a dashing blond in an orange shirt. "Guys, can we please focus on this job? We've put it off for long enough."
The female snorted, lightly punching him on the arm. "Quite the workaholic, Gregory; and on Valentine's Day, no less!"
The blond, Gregory, rolled his eyes. He pulled a manilla envelope out from his inside jacket pocket. "The target is a 45-year-old man named Walter Cobb. He's a human trafficker, one of the biggest in the business, based near Denver. We were told he would be here tonight. Be on the lookout."
The female rolled her eyes. "Greeeaaaat. Does this mean that I have to dress up in the sexy tight dress to try and seduce this scumbag?"
Gregory patted her back reassuringly. "Oh come now, (Y/n), it's not that bad."
"Oui, you're only going to be exposed to ze chances of rape," the first said, taking a drag on his cigarette and blowing it out into the already smoky lounge.
(Y/n) and Gregory both glared at him. "That's not funny, Christophe!" Gregory shrieked.
Christophe rolled his eyes. "But eet's true, non?"
Gregory opened his mouth to retaliate, but was stopped by (Y/n). "Listen, I'm gonna go change. Call me if you find him, or if anything else happens."
The two watched her walk away, both sighing in infatuation. For you see, the group of friends had known each other since fourth grade, meeting when the four idiots signed up to rescue Terrance and Phillip. Since then, the bond between (Y/n), Gregory, and Christophe had grown, to the point where the boys both fancied (Y/n) greatly.
They were so immersed in their thoughts, they barely saw that very same girl walk back up to them, now clothed in a short, tight (F/c) dress that flowed at the hip. There was a slit up the side where, if one looked closely, there was a dagger holstered to her thigh.
(Y/n), looking down, saw what state the two were in, and rolled her eyes. Normally, she would leave them as they were, but today, she needed them to be on their guard. Sighing, she snapped her fingers in the boys' faces. "Helloooooo. Up and at 'em. C'mon. Let's go."
Shaken, Gregory and Christophe looked in awe at (Y/n)'s transformation. "Y-you look gorgeous, mon belle," Christophe stammered.
Gregory nodded. "Yes, tr-truly stunning."
The girl blushed and smiled. "Aw, thanks guys. Now, imma catch this creep. You tell me if anything happens."
With that, she walked towards the bar.
Gregory sighed. "If only this weren't a mission."
"Why, zo you can try to court ma belle amie?" Christophe said. "Psh, een your dreams. You vouldn't ztand a chance against moi."
Gregory sat up offended. "Excuse me?"
Christophe merely took another drag. "You 'eard me. She would go for zomeone more rugged, more dangerouz; like me."
Gregory shook his head. "You must be daft if you think that you're better with the ladies than me. If anyone knows how to court a girl, it's- him."
Christophe looked at Gregory, confused. "Ven did you ztart referring to yourself een ze third person you piece of sheet?"
Gregory gritted his teeth. "No you dolt, I mean our target. He's over there."
Christophe turned over his shoulder to see a fat man in a brown pinstripe suit trying to chat up their captivating friend. (Y/n) was playing along with it, of course- giggling, touching him lightly, brushing her hand further and further up his legs. The swine was clearly getting hard, if he wasn't already. The sight alone was nearly enough to make Christophe snap his shovel in two. However, he and his blond partner stayed put, each wanting to stalk over and start swinging.
(Y/n) sat on the edge of her seat, internally grimacing at the actions she was currently taking part in. Sure, she was fine with acting this way- did it often, actually, especially around Gregory and Christophe- but the man before her was positively revolting. He thought he had more charm than he did, and when it didn't work, he tried to impress her with his wallet the size of Alaska. Of course, she wasn't interested. She liked a guy who tried to win her over with charm, or at least more than this douchebag had. Still, she had to play along for just a bit longer.
Walter was on his third drink, and was drunk enough bet money on a dog in a racehorse competition. His pudgy face was red, and he was breathing heavily. His slicked back salt-and-pepper hair was falling into his eyes. He tugged at his collar. "It's getting pretty stuffy in here. Whaddaya say we go upstairs, have some fun?"
It took all of the girl's self control not to cringe, but she smiled and nodded. "I thought you'd never ask."
Chuckling, he pulled her close and ushered her upstairs, looking back over his shoulder and giving a slight nod.
Gregory and Christophe watched as they ascended, barely noticing the tap on their shoulders.
In fact, Christophe didn't notice it at all until a man leaned close to his ear and whispered "Hey, pig fucker."
Christophe whirled around to see five men of similar size and stature, all dressed a bit too nicely for this kind of bar, looking down at them. The one closest to Christophe smiled, "You two look a bit on edge. Have a drink."
"Not a chance," Christophe snarled. "You won't call me a peeg fucker and get away with eet, you shithead!"
He felt around for his shovel, only to discover that the fourth man had it enclosed in his grasp. Growling, he tried to stealthily reach for his pistol hidden in his waist band. Unfortunately, the second man saw, and swung at him. Gregory blocked it, but was soon attacked by another punch.

----------

Meanwhile, (Y/n) was regretting everything she'd ever done, especially this. Walter was waiting in the upstairs room, lying on the bed. He had begun to get a little grabby, so (Y/n) excused herself to go "get ready."
And to vomit.
Here she stood, in the small, dismal bathroom of a three-star hotel, while some fat pig in the other room could barely wait to get his rocks off with her. She ran a finger over the knife strapped to her thigh. It will be over quickly, she thought to herself. Just get in there and catch him off guard.

(Y/n) brushed her (H/l) hair out of her face and gave herself a smile. She could hear Cobb's labored breath through the bathroom walls. She turned and walked back into the main room, letting the straps of her dress slide down her shoulders. "I hope I didn't keep you very long."

The man wheezed happily. "Perish the thought, dear. Now come here."

He opened his arms, and (Y/n) swallowed hard before moving. She sat on his lap and tried not to cringe as his eyes moved hungrily over her body. HIs thick, sweaty hands travelled up her legs, under her skirt. Gregory, Christophe, please come soon.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Cobb's raspy chuckle. "Just relax, baby. They're not coming."

(Y/n)'s (E/c) eyes snapped open. "Wh... What did you say?"

"You didn't really think I didn't know I had a bounty on my head, did you?" With each sentence, the man's wheezing became more frequent. "As soon as I saw you three, I knew what you were here for. I just thought I could have some fun before it ended."

His hand travelled up her chest, and he grinned, leaning in. "Between you and me sweetie, something tells me that's not completely off the table.'

The sentence was barely out of his mouth before (Y/n) was upon him, her fist making direct contact with his nose. He tumbled over the bed and onto the floor, landing with a thud. The (H/c)-haired woman wasted no time, retrieving her dagger and pulling it quickly over the man's throat. She wiped off the blood with his tie, and stood up. "Finally, I can get out of this damn thing."

----------

Her friends downstairs were in a similar shape, having just finished off the last of Cobb's men. "Ugh, they should really wash their hands before a fight," Gregory huffed. "Those goons got my shirt dirty."

"Typical of you to zink of your clothing after fighting for your life." Christophe twirled his shovel, looking around. "Hm, Gregory. Zhould ve go check on our dear lady friend?"

Gregory nodded. "Indeed, she should be done by now. Perhaps then we can grab a drink."

"I doubt they're gonna let us back here after they see what I did to the room."

Both men turned at the voice, seeing the (E/c)-eyed beauty herself behind them. She giggled, causing smiles to break out on their faces. "It took you guys that long to end it? I could've showered while I waited."

"You should 'ave. You ztink of American liquor."

"Newsflash buddy, we're in America. Thanks for worrying about me though."

A slight blush arose on the French male's face. "Vhatever. Let's get out of 'ere."

"I'm glad you're alright, (Y/n)," Gregory said softly, grasping the woman's hand. "What say we spend the rest of our Valentine's Day to the fullest?"

"Works for me," (Y/n) yawned. "What say you two buy me chocolate, give me a massage, and draw me a bath?"

"In your dreams, beetch."