#i dont know why i thought striker lives in that old mine XDD but i did and thats where this is set

[slashingdisneypasta]

Striker x Small!Meek!Fem!Reader || Drabble

I LOVED HIM SO MUCH in the new episode.

Plot: Striker fails her so Stella shows him why he should be afraid of displeasing her- by leaving you a bloody and beaten mess on his doorstep.

Warnings: You are really badly brutalised and Striker has this weird combination of love and degradation for you that's ... interesting... 🤔🤔😅

God fucken damnit. You weren't made for this kinda bullshit. How'd that bitch even know about ya?

As Striker lifted your very delicate, shaking body up off the filthy ground, just about melting at the feel of your fragile little fingers pinch at the front of his shirt and the sound of your little nose sniffling against his chest as you cry. This is not right. You don't go fucking up weaklings for no reason.

"St- Striker- "

"I know, darlin'. I'll clean ya up- you'll be right as rain in no time."

You continue to sniffle, giving a bubbly little sob, and its so pathetic his black heart actually feels lie its broken. What the hell? ... That royal cunt better watch her back- next time he sees her, she wont be makin' it out alive. Grimacing, Striker walks with you in his arms over to an old wooden bench. The wood is rough as hell but its the only one he trusts to not snap under you, and surely a few lil splinters aint gonna make no difference with what you're already dealin' with.

He leaves you there cold and alone for a few minutes as he goes in search of his first aid kit- he doesn't need it all that often, so he's not too sure where he left it last. By the time he finds it, dusty and unused, buried under some fallen rubble, you've managed to get your own shoes off. Which makes him give you the smallest of grins, setting the first aid kit on the table beside you. "There you go, little girl. Good job. Can you wriggle on outta yer pants for me, too? Gotta get to those cuts... "

Striker's luminescent, snake-like eyes focus on your little form as you try; Sticking your thumbs under the waistband of your jeans and shifting, pulling, trying. You fail, and you're just a pitiful little bunny covered in tears and blood, and Striker's frown just gets worse.

How... how could someone do this to you?? You were pathetic before, sure,.. but now you're fucken tragic. Jesus fucking christ.

Its gonna be hard to let you outta his sight, after this.

When you give up, and just cover your face with your hands and start to cry again - thinking he's mad at you, - , he gives a relenting sigh. "... C'mere, tough girl, I'll help ya." With a hiss, Striker pulls out his blade and slices the garment off you. Then he flicks the first aid kit open, one hand on your bare thigh and his warm body nice and close to yours, as he methodically begins to care for and wrap up your bloody gashes, slashes and grazes.

He starts with your legs, wrapping up your sweet thighs completely in gauze before kneeling down and doing the same to your dainty calves. When he's done with that he grunts, and gets back up to his full height - he hangs over you even as you sit on the table.

When he cups your face in one of his hands to clean away the tears and hold you still so that he can stitch up a particularly nasty slice Stella gave you when you started to cry, he essentially engulfs both your cheeks. When he's finished with your face, he pauses- his eyes gaze down at your lips- before letting you go with a scowl and picking up your hands one at a time.

The left arm is worse, already turning a disgusting purple colour and practically broken so he carefully sets that one up in a sling before winding gauze around the other; Gently rubbing circles of disinfectant cream into your palm when he notices a gash there with dirt spread into it. "Hmmmm... " He hums lowly at it, frowning deeply and glaring as his thumb works away at the area- soothing your hurt but making you nervous.

"I- I... I'm so sorry, Striker... I'm- I'm... so weak... " You whimper meekly, eyes still full of tears.

"Yeah... " He sighs. "But yer my weakling, so... I shoulda been there to protect ya."

Sniffing wetly, you immediately shake your head- a little, spark of defiance that ordinarily, Striker woulda found fucken adorable. You? Thinkin' you can stand up to him?? Sweetheart, no... "No, its not your- "

"It is... " Pinching the bridge of his nose and letting go of your hand, Striker lets out a long suffering groan... frustrated and pissed but trying really really hard to compose himself. To not scare you. "... but you know what? That's okay."

"... What?"

"I got a fix, for this. Its alright."

"What's your... what's your fix?"

Here he lets go of his face and looks down at you again, a look on his face that isn't warm but isn't quite cold either; Its curious, and makes something heat up inside you- deep in the pit of your stomach. "... I'll move ya in here with me tomorrow. That way, I can keep an eye on ya." Cuz clearly you cant take care of yourself.

Fuck- Shit- He knew that, already. He knew that from the moment he first saw you, and he still let this happen.

Seeing him beating himself up again inside his head, you start to feel bad. And not because you're physically aching, and stinging, and torn to pieces- because your cowboy is upset. You hate it. If only you were tougher... then you could keep yourself safe and he wouldn't have to be so hard on himself!...

... If only.

After a few moments of silence between you two, you raise your creamy hand to his face; grazing your knuckles softly against him for a second- before second-guessing yourself, becoming embarrassed, and attempting to retreat again quickly.

He catches your hand though in his much bigger, tougher, capable one and holds onto it. "... That's nice, darlin'. Y'can do that anytime."

"Okay... I- I will."

"For now, though... " This wins your full attention, causing you to look at him again; Eyes wide and innocent. There's a tired look on his face, but he gives you a devastating smirk. "Lets go to bed, sweet thing. Y'need your rest, after a beating like that... and I don't wanna let ya go for a little while."

"Th- That sounds good."

"Yep." With that, he gently scoops you up again and takes you away to his bed. As he lies you down, he gives you a kiss on the cheek, before laying down himself.

#i dont know why i thought striker lives in that old mine XDD but i did and thats where this is set #i mean. he could. who knows #Striker #Helluva Boss Striker #Striker x Reader Drabble #Helluva Boss Striker x Reader Drabble #Helluva Boss Striker x Reader #Striker x Reader #Drabble