warning; some harassment
the next day, you woke up with a mix of relief and weariness. the events of the previous day had left you emotionally drained, and all you wanted was to go back home. with a heavy heart, you checked out of the motel and stepped out into the unforgiving streets of the infernal city.
as you walked, the weight of your own thoughts burdened you. the encounter with striker lingered in your mind, and you found yourself unable to shake the confusion and curiosity that it had stirred within you. his enigmatic presence and the unexpected glimpse of something that seemed like attraction left you questioning your own worth.
you sighed, berating yourself for even entertaining the notion. it was foolish to believe that someone like striker could see anything in you worth desiring. you were just an ordinary imp, with nothing special to offer. your heart sank as you wondered if you would ever find a sense of belonging or acceptance in this twisted world.
you couldn't help but notice the curious glances and leering stares directed your way. it was no secret that hell was a place of lawlessness and chaos, and unwanted attention was a common occurrence for imps like yourself.
as you continued on your path, a group of rough-looking demons, both men and women, approached you with menacing smirks. they seemed to take delight in making you uncomfortable, their eyes tracing over your form in an unsettling manner.
"hey there, little imp," one of the men sneered, his voice filled with contempt. "what's someone like you doing here all alone?"
you tried to walk past them, wanting nothing to do with their games. "i'm not interested. just let me be," you replied, your voice steady but your heart racing with anxiety.
the demons laughed, finding your reaction amusing. "aw, look at this sad little thing," one of the women taunted, stepping closer to you. "what's the matter? can't handle a little attention?"
you felt a hand reaching out to grab your arm, and your heart sank with dread. before they could touch you, however, the door to a nearby building swung open, and striker emerged from within. his presence seemed to startle the group, and they took a step back, wary of the infamous cowboy.
striker's gaze narrowed as he looked at the group, his voice cold and filled with disdain. "what are you pests bothering em' for?" he spat, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
the demons hesitated, seemingly aware of striker's reputation. "we were just having some fun," one of the men stammered, trying to sound nonchalant.
striker scoffed, his disdain evident. "fun? with someone like them?" he gestured towards you, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of hurt at his words. "pathetic."
you were taken aback by his harsh assessment of you, feeling a mix of anger and embarrassment. striker barely knew you, and yet he had no qualms about belittling you in front of others.
YOU ARE READING
𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐋𝐘𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ; striker x reader
Romance''❞ striker x reader ━ your existence feels like an endless cycle of boredom, sadness, and a sense of being lost. but everything changes when you stumble upon the harvest moon festival, a rare glimmer of excitement in you...