Peccatum Valentini

The Sins of Valentine

Felix x Reader

"Hey (y/n)" The orange man chuckled from his chair. You knew you were fucked. "A little birdie told me that you've been stealing our equipment." he was right, you had decided that you weren't getting paid enough for your hard work so you had been stealing the equipment and selling it. This really isn't how you wanted to spend your valentine's day.

"What of it?" you asked, if death was imminent you might as well have some fun with it, and who said insulting your superior wouldn't be fun?
"Well, we here at Felix Inc generally frown upon stealing company property. The official punishment is firing squad" he says with an unreadable face because he's wearing a helmet.

The room was silent for a bit, before a subtle annoyed sigh was heard.
"Unfortunately, firing squad is not the punishment, Felix." the mysterious voice came from behind him, well, it came from the chair. Felix was cluelessly perched atop a very, very angry locus. He was so angry that he was almost emoting, an incredibly rare occurrence. How did Felix not see him? He didn't even have active camo on!

"Look, we have to use that firing squad sometime and somehow absolutely no one has made an attempt on your life yet." He replied exasperated before quickly getting up and sitting on the desk like that guy from your French class about to show you his new Nintendo switch. "So I made a few changes to the rules, i decided that the punishment for theft would now be firing squad. Same with uniform violations, doing a shit job and returning with no kills."
"What doesn't get you a firing squad?" you chirped up feeling forgotten.

"Friendly fire" he responded.
"Is that to cover the collective asses of the firing squad?"
"maybe." he loaded his gun "And don't hit on the firing squad"
"is the punishment-"
"Yes." He got up and pointed his gun at your face. "Alternatively I could just shoot you myself." As he threatened you, you realised he was taller than you. Much taller. You didn't even go up to his shoulders.

"Look sir, i have Plans. Today is Valentine's Day and I have a ton of letters to respond to"
"And from whom were these letters sent?"
"Uh... you wouldn't know them... They go to different militant organisations—in canada!"
"Huh, well as head of HR employees aren't allowed to date so I'll need you burning those letters or the punishment is -"
"Firing squad?" you interrupted.
"No, it's crucifixion" He finished with an edge of annoyance. "Ah fuck, now what is it?!" His eyes flying off to whatever stupid idiot decided to knock on the door—wait! He's distracted!

You slowly crept away as Felix began talking to the person at the door, some incompetent fool glued guns to the toaster again, thank god they'd left the door open behind them. With the speed of Shazam, you hot-footed it out of the room. Unfortunately you weren't as discreet as you imagined, so a few minutes later you feel a knife materialise out of thin air to get held against your throat. Normally, you'd call this a normal Friday night, but staring into your boss' beautiful brown eyes which glare into your soul made you kinda... Scared but like, in a hot way.

"How stupid can you be?" he said with a an almost amused scowl. You had one shot. Not in your gun or anything, just in general. One chance at this. A last hurrah one might say. The final opportunity to make a witty comeback.

You smirked, your (e/c) eyes twinkling in the light of the dim hallway.

"Impale me, humongous paternal figure"

Unsurprisingly, these aren't the coolest last words. And sadly, last words are pretty permanent. You know, being your last words and all.

What I'm getting at was that you were stabbed on the spot. If it makes you feel better, you did kind of try to say "Stab me daddy" to an empathy lacking mercenary just to be a dick. You tried to outdick THE dick. You also signed up to kill people. You had zero prior experience and kinda got in because you wrote a semi-decent Romblr rant about torture methods a while back, like, a WHILE while back. The Knack were still together when you wrote that post.

But Romblr roblogs don't matter when you've just been stabbed for by your cockhead of a superior. Direct cuts to both of your carotids? Ouchie, dude.