Bless the Broken Road | A Striker x Reader Story

Personal Space

Striker was fuming. I watched him pace up and down the length of the living room from where I sat in the chair. While I had managed to convince him to put the pistol down, that was about as far as I had gotten. His tail rattled each time he turned on his heel, and I began to worry he would wear a hole in the rug.

"They won't pull up in broad daylight and be polite next time," Striker snarled.

I sighed and shook my head, "Maybe it's time just to sell..."

Striker stopped pacing and turned to face me, saying in a low hiss, "So you just want to give in?"

Giving him an agitated look, I stood up and stretched, "I don't know what else to do, Striker."

"You defend what's yours," He replied, moving so that he towered over me. I wanted to tell him that defending myself was what had gotten me here. That every time I defended myself, I dug myself into a bigger hole. I was tired of fighting everyone to keep what was mine.

"Are you just going to roll over and let every entitled bastard take advantage of you?" Striker continued, moving closer. 

"Please step back." I said in a small voice. 

Striker grinned, "Then consider this a teachable moment. You want me out of your personal space? Defend it."

I glared at him, taking a step back. Striker matched my pace, boxing me in, "Defend your personal space, darlin'."

I don't know if it was this evenings events or if it was the fact that my back was literally against a wall, but I snapped. Bringing my fist up, I punched Striker straight in the nose, sending a spray of blood over the both of us. Striker reeled back and I stared in horror at what I had done. 

To my surprise, he began to laugh, "Good job, darlin'! That's one hell of a right hook."