BSD Oneshots || On Hiatus

The Adventures of Mark Twain- Mark T. x Reader💫

"We could ask Miss Louisa." Mark replied, yawning. 

"She isn't here at the moment." A girl's voice said haughtily. Lucy Maud Montgomery.

You turned around and smiled at the girl. "Do you know where she went?"

Lucy frowned, twisting the towel in her hands. "Down to the city to buy supplies I suppose."

"Hm ok, thanks. Maybe Poe will know." You said, turning to look at your boyfriend. 

The redhead shrugged. "That shady racoon guy? Yeah, maybe. I hear he's smart."

The two of you continued down the hall until you found the writer's room.

 "Poe? You in there?" Mark asked, knocking on the door. 

"Come in." The man replied. 

"Lady's first, darling." Mark said teasingly as he held the door for you. You stuck your tongue out at him and walking into the dimly lit room.

"You should open some windows." You suggested but the dark-haired man shook his head, the racoon on his shoulder chittering.

Soft classical music played almost eerily from a small radio on the desk, and you shuddered. 

"You sound like a classic villain. This music sucks, play some rock or something."

"Wagner's music is better than it sounds." Mark unexpectedly butted in, and you raised an eyebrow at him. 

"First of all, that makes no sense, and secondly, I didn't know you liked classical."

He shrugged and Poe sighed. "Do you need something from me, Y/n?"

"Boss has us looking for some smugglers but he threw us out without telling us where they were." You explained, rolling your eyes. 

"Ah those, I heard Steinbeck talking about them with Lovecraft. Very well, they should be in one of the docks warehouses. Easy enough. Will you leave me in peace now?"

"Thank you, Poe!" You beamed at him, and he looked a little flustered as you grabbed Mark again and skipped off down the hall.

"I can use my ability to see which warehouse they're in and then we're all done, easy peasy." 

"I have a feeling that's not how it's going to go, my love." Mark groaned as he ran after you. "Didn't Fitzgerald say that it was a trap?"

"Yes, but my ability also shows me where danger is sooooo... and if it's an ambush, can't you just use your own ability to shoot them?"

"I suppose so."

And that's how the two of you found yourselves in this situation. 

Arguing, crouched behind a block of cement, with a warehouse halfway in flames behind you. 

"FUCK" Mark swore loudly as he glared at a burn on his abs. 

"Maybe you should button up your shirt then." You laughed, flicking his nose. "And swearing isn't good."

"When angry, count to four, when very angry, swear. I am very angry." Mark snapped.

"How was I supposed to know they'd literally throw the stuff at us?" 

The smugglers, when confronted with the two of you, had quite literally thrown the stolen cargo at you. The case they had thrown, unfortunately for you, had been full of explosives.

"Isn't your ability like, predictive? Whatever, arguing isn't going to do anything. Are they all still alive?"  Your boyfriend asked, pulling his shirt halfway off to inspect his wound.