Anarchy (Spec Ops Guy(s) x Reader)

Chapter 10

Tank is silent as he carries you towards the now-demolished medic tent. He sits you down on a table and turns away, crouching to sort through the discarded supplies on the ground for something useful.

"Hey," you say softly to get Tank's attention. He turns to you as you remove the backpack from your shoulders, unzipping it and showing him the supplies inside. You always made sure to carry a bag of medic supplies, just in case something like this happened. 

Rather than start cleaning dressing you arm like you expected, he turns away and pulls out a phone, quickly dialing a number and whispering angrily into the receiver. Hanging up, he turns back towards you, but maintains distance, leaning his weight against a table directly across from you. 

You stared at his mask searchingly, trying to get him to look at you, but his gaze stays locked towards the ground. You were about to ask him what was wrong, but the sound of the tent opening captures your attention.

Riot's looming form instantly invades your personal space, crowding between your legs as his gloved hands grip the sides of your face, turning it this way and that to check for any cuts or scrapes. His hands frett over your body, checking for any damage aside from your obvious elbow injury. 

"Are you okay," He finally asks, voice saturated with sincerity and worry. 

"I'm totally fine, I promise. It's only a little scrape," You say, as if trying to talk down a child from a state of desperate panic. It must soothe his worry somewhat because his rigid form seems to relax a bit. 

He lets out a heavy breath and starts working on dressing the scrape on your arm. You try to stifle a whimper of pain when he has to pour rubbing alcohol on the scrape, but he must hear because a hand comes to cradle your cheek, his thumb gently brushing across your cheekbone as you watch him. Your hand comes up to grip his hand on your cheek, squeezing it in appreciation and reassurance for him to continue. 

Once the area is clean and wrapped in gauze, Riot's form envelops you in an embrace so tight it knocks the breath from your lungs. His hand comes to tangle in your hair as he cradles the back of your head against his chest, thumb rubbing soothing circles behind your ear. 

Your arms come up to rest against his back, gently rubbing up and down along his broad back in reassurance. 

"Do not ever do that again," He whispers in your ear, his warm breath running across your skin. 

"Or what?" you shoot back. Riot's form stiffens under your hands, but the eases again as he responds.

"I guess i'll have no choice but to punish you," He whispers back. The small smile that had been dancing across your features drops instantly and your mouth parts slightly in shock, not expecting that answer. 

His hands drop to your hips, where he gives a slight squeeze before saying, "Quit acting like a brat and let's go protest."

He turns away, grabbing your hand and pulling you behind him to exit the tent. It must be the removal of his body's warmth from your space that causes a shiver to creep along your spine. 

You look behind you to see Tank following but at a distance. This strange behavior was starting to worry you, so you lightly tugged at Riot's grip to catch his attention. 

"Why's Tank acting so strange," You ask once he's turned towards you. 

Riot looks past you at the figure standing a few feet off, staring steadfastly in the opposite direction. 

"Shit- yeah, he does this sometimes, let me go talk to him," He says before walking over to Tank. 

You see Tank turn at the feeling of a hand at his waist. 

Riot must say something to him because Tank looks down towards the ground and slightly shakes his head. 

In the next moment, Riot's hand comes up to rest on the Tank's nape, dragging him forward to land in an intimate embrace. A small smile comes across your features at seeing their bond. 

Soon the two men part and cross back towards you. 

You walk forward and grab Tank's hand, shooting him a wide smile in hopes of making him feel better. You pull him along as Riot leads the way back into the crowd of protesters, never straying far from your side. 

When you're somewhat close to the front of the crowd, you slightly tug Tank's arm asking him to lean down so you can ask him something.

"You okay?" You ask, worried about the odd behavior he was displaying only moments ago.

"Yeah sweetheart, m'fine, just felt bad for leaving you alone that's all," He responds. You're confusion at his words turns to guilt. 

"You don't think it's your fault the cop pushed me do you?" At your words he looks away.

His hand comes to nervously scratch at the back of his covered neck, "I mean, if I'd gotten there sooner I could've protected you. Who knows what would've happened if I was a minute later," he finishes. 

"Don't you dare blame yourself for this little scrape. First of all, it was my choice to try and stop those pigs from doing that. Second, the only reason you couldn't get to me before then was because you're unreasonably tall and I'm short enough to elbow through people easily. Third," you poke your finger at his chest, similar to what he did to that cop earlier, "it isn't that bad. It's a tiny little scrape. Completely insignificant. Don't feel bad for this because much worse has happened to me, okay?" You finish, your voice serious but gentle at the same time. 

He sighs and nods. Satisfied, you turn back to face the cops opposing you, only to be met with the backs of more unreasonably tall protesters. Why was everyone so goddamn tall? You weren't even that short?

Groaning, you grab a free sign nearby and held it up as high as your arms could manage.

You were confused when Tank crouched down in front of you, facing away, and made a gesture with his hands.

"What?" you say.

"Hop on your noble steed m'lady," He says. 

"Are you sure," You ask, timidly placing your hands on his shoulders.

"Why would I pass up a chance to get my head between your thighs?" He shoots back.

You lightly swat him on the back, calling him a pervert under your breath, before hopping onto his shoulders.

He rises to his massive height and you can't help but smile at the view in front of you. 

You now know that the best feeling in the world is literally looking down on the police while yelling "Fuck 12". 

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howdy, hopefully a double update will make up for my extended absence (sorry again my lovelies)

although being tall must have it's advantages, remember that you are never too short to figuratively look down on the police. fuck them.

ily all❤️💕✨

here's a pic of donald being sad to make u happy bc nothing is better than seeing this man's hopes and dreams be crushed to dust🥰