Jaded | A Striker x Reader Story

Feelings

I had showered, drank two cups of coffee, and cleaned up the mess from the night before by the time Striker shambled out of the bedroom. Dressed in nothing but his jeans, he leaned against the door frame, watching as I was bagging up the trash to take to the dumpster, "Morning, darlin'."

"Don't call me that," I replied shortly, moving quickly towards the door. I cursed under my breath as the bag hampered my movements. 

"Then what should I call you after I spent the night with your ankles around my ears?" Striker's answer made me stop short. Dropping the bag, I spun around to face him.

"The fuck did you just say?"

"You know," He mused, crossing his arms, "I can't tell if you're mad because you regret the choice to sleep with me or if you are just masking feeling behind a wall of anger."

Storming up to him, I snarled, "I don't think you are qualified to give me psychological advice. What happened last night was the result of pent of stress and alcohol."

Striker shrugged, unperturbed by my outburst, "Say what you want, darlin', but you are as red as a tomato right now. You can pretend that feelings weren't involved last night, but it doesn't erase the fact that your neighbors could hear you screaming my name."