HIATUS// Ride 'Em Cowboy || Striker X Reader 18+

Common Decency

While standing outside of work the luminous red sky beams at you, walking home after a long day had to be your least favourite part of having such a late shift. The thoughts you had about your life and yourself would always dawn on you, work was no place to think. You had to stay focused if you wanted to keep the shoe box you called home.

Silently walking you begin to think of what lead you to this low point in life, although being a stripper is demeaning, you never gave your body to any imp, no matter the price. Having a job as such you had taught yourself ways to fight back. We cannot have a re-run of last time can we? The dimly lit streets called your name as you began to tread on home.

Your phone goes off, not giving much of a glance knowing that it would be your "friend" Monica asking for you to cover her shift again. You instead put on some music for the way home, hoping to keep your thoughts in check.

Your pov now :)

Not a-lot of the imps in hell have any sort of "common decency", not that I myself have much of it left after the pain i have endured the past few years.

There are few people in hell who I considered friends especially growing up in lust. Everyone and everything costed not only your body, but whatever dignity you may have had left. My distant friend always told me to play to my strengths, what would she say about me now? Why hasn't she checked in on me..why haven't I check on her. Its been so long at least 6 years, I am 23 now and still have not had the common decency to call her back, ironic isn't it.

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Stepping into you darkened home, you begin by letting out a deep sigh of exhaustion and frustration, flicking the light on to reveal the half furnished home. Although you no longer lived in the lust ring you couldn't say living in ImpCity was any better.

Sure there wasn't blaring music and bed headboards pounding against the walls throughout the night but the sounds of cars honking followed by dead silence, was not any more comforting.

You headed to your kitchen just for a drink, on nights like these you are glad to be an adult. Opening the fridge to tiredly grab an already opened can of beer. Chugging the rest and grabbing a new one, cracking it open to hear the sounds of a soon to be silenced mind.

Huffing you start to your room, you took pride in making your bedroom comfy after all you were either at the uncomfortable club or in here. Kicking off your heels you shut the blinds and changed into something comfy (your choice). Slowly walking to the bathroom you brush your black hair, wipe any leftover makeup off your face not being much. You are beautiful you don't need it, but the voices in your head tell you otherwise. After chugging the other beer you had opened, you brush your teeth. You space out and stare at your figure in the mirror. Fat. Ugly. Not worth it. A pushover. 'You deserve what happened to you.'

Tears trickle down your cheeks, your vision becomes foggy and your tail begins to swish uncomfortably. You quickly finish brushing your teeth and head straight to bed. Feeling the small buzz and warmth creeping up to your brain you breath a hitched sigh from the crying.

Silence at last, as you fall asleep.