''❞ 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...
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the neon glow of the city cast an eerie ambiance as you and striker navigated the bustling streets. it had been weeks since that night at the fancy bar, and your partnership with the cowboy assassin had evolved into a dynamic rhythm. the banter persisted, but now it was laced with a shared understanding that transcended words.
striker glanced at you, his hat pulled low over his eyes. "we've got a big one tonight, darlin'. a target that ain't to be taken lightly."
you tightened the grip on the handle of your weapon, a newfound confidence emanating from the training and missions you'd tackled together. "i'm ready. lay it on me."
he smirked, a mix of pride and amusement. "well, our target goes by the name of malachi. a demon with a rap sheet longer than a hellhound's tail. runs a network of illegal activities, from smuggling to information brokering. dangerous fella."
you raised an eyebrow. "sounds like a real charmer. what's our approach?"
striker's eyes scanned the darkened alleyways. "malachi frequents a high-end casino downtown. we've got a contact who slipped us some intel. he'll be there tonight. we're gonna blend in, play the game, and then when the time's right, we strike."
the plan unfolded seamlessly as you and striker made your way to the upscale casino. the air inside was thick with the scent of demonic indulgence – a mixture of expensive cigars and the faint whiff of brimstone. striker, in his usual attire, somehow managed to blend in effortlessly, his demeanor commanding a respect that transcended the opulence of the venue.
as you moved through the crowd, striker leaned in to whisper, his voice low and calculated. "keep an eye out for malachi. he's got a thing for bodyguards, so he won't be alone."
you nodded, scanning the room with heightened awareness. the tension in the air grew palpable as the moments ticked away, each second bringing you closer to the encounter with malachi.
the casino's opulent décor served as a stark contrast to the impending danger. the roulette wheels spun, and demonic laughter echoed, creating a surreal backdrop to the impending confrontation.
and then, across the room, you spotted him – malachi. a towering figure with a menacing aura, flanked by two heavily armed bodyguards.
striker leaned in, his voice a hushed whisper. "you handle the one on the left. i'll take care of the right. we need a clean entrance."
with a silent nod, you and striker moved with a synchronicity born of countless missions. as the casino's ambient noise masked your footsteps, you approached the unsuspecting guards.
you engaged the one on the left, your movements fluid and controlled. a well-timed distraction – a flirtatious smile and a casual touch – diverted the guard's attention long enough for striker to make his move on the other side.
