You winced as you sat up on the bed, feeling sore. Striker noticed this as he returned from the bathroom and smirked. He pulled his boxers back on and put away the cards that were still laying on the table. You had a million thoughts running through your mind before he cleared the silence with his voice.

   "Still wanna talk about last night?" He teased. You frowned, coming back to reality from what felt like a dream.

   "Yes actually." He ignored the comment and went to put the cards back in the bedside table drawer.

   "What are we, Striker?" You asked, breaking the ice.

   "Simple. I'm tired and you're sore." He said, smirking. You sighed.

   "You know what I mean..." You said, trying to pull in the reins of the conversation.

   "Do I?" He sighed as he walked over to you, leaning over you.

   "And what exactly do you  think we are, (Y/N)?" He said, with a slight edge to his voice. You blushed as he stared down at your glistening, disheveled body. You took a moment to gain your composure back before responding.

   "Well...I know I've been spying for you for a while and you have this whole lone rider persona going on, but sometimes I feel like there's a little more to it than just that." You said. He scoffed.

   "The fuck are you going on about?" He backed away from you.

   "All I'm saying is clearly I'm more than just a tool to complete your mission, right? Why else would you sleep with me...twice?" You inquired.

   "For enjoyment. Just cause you're a tool doesn't mean I can't use you like a toy." He said. You were a bit suprised by his statement, unsure of how to react.

   "So that's what I am to you...a toy?" You asked.

   "Is there a problem with that? Cause you seem to enjoy it in the moment." You couldn't stop your face from heating up as the blood rushed to your cheeks.

   "I do enjoy it, don't get me wrong. But I do have a problem with that. I might be just a toy to you, but you're so much more than that to me. I can't explain why I feel the way I do, but I really think...you really make me...what I'm trying to say is that I think I'm starting to fall in love with you." Striker's eyes widened as he paused.

   "I'm done having this conversation." He said, beginning to walk away from you. He sat down at the table.

   "Excuse me?" You asked, not sure how to respond to his dismissive tone.

   "You heard me, don't make me repeat myself (Y/N)." You scoffed before responding to him.

   "Hold on just a minute. We're not done yet. I just confessed to you that I'm in love with you and you're dismissing the conversation?"

   "Good, you're starting to catch on." He rolled his eyes, making you even more frustrated.

   "What kind of a dick move is that? I'm being serious Striker, I-" He cut you off.

   "What in any part of how I'm acting makes you think I'm not serious?" He questioned with an edge to his voice.

   "So that's just it. This is your fucked up way of telling me that you don't feel the same way about me?" You asked, trying to stop a few tears from shedding.

  "So wait a minute, since you caught feelings for me, it's my  fault that I don't reciprocate them?" He asked.

   "No, I'm not saying it's your fault, it's just-" He cut you off again.

   "It's just what? That you thought you were capable of loving me? Pathetic." He taunted.

   "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Of course I'm capable of loving you!" You exclaimed, desperate to get through to him.

   "It's adorable that you think you can love someone." His words really set you off. You let a few tears slide down your cheeks.

   "What the fuck is your problem? It's almost like you're so insecure that you're afraid to let someone love you!" He was caught off guard by your words, frozen for a moment before responding.

   "I'm not insecure or afraid of anything. Let me make myself very clear: you can't love." You stood up, wincing a bit as you were still sore.

   "Dammit Striker, who do you think you are?" You exclaimed.

   "It's more about who you are darling." He spat back, confusing you.

   "What do you mean?" You asked.

   "You're so stupid. Then again, what more did I expect from the daughter of Asmodeous?" His words made your eyes widen. You wondered if you heard him right.

   "I have no idea what you're talking about. I never met my father, he was just some deadbeat from the lust ring that knocked up my mother by promising he would marry her one day." He raised an eyebrow at you.

   "Sounds like the bastard ruler of Lust himself, doesn't it?" He said. His words started to sink in as you thought back to your past and everything your mother had ever told you about your father. She never told you that he was Asmodeus, but everything she did tell you started to make sense.

   "How did you know about this?" You asked, a few more tears shedding.

   "It's not that hard to tell when you and your daddy share a similar ability." You looked at him with a lost expression, searching for answers to a million different questions. He sighed.

   "(Y/N), your father is Asmodeus, the ruler of the Lust ring. Because he's your father, you have some of his power. You have this ability to manipulate and get what you want from others using means of seduction and lust."

   "Does Blitzo know?" You asked, knowing that he was a close family friend of your mother's which is why she entrusted him to watch over you when she died.

   "Yes, he knew." He said.

   "Why didn't he tell me?" You asked, letting a few more tears shed. Striker sighed, clearly getting annoyed with all of the questions.

   "He probably didn't want you using your little ability in the ways your daddy does. But now you see why I told you that you can't truly love someone?" You frowned.

   "You're wrong. I don't give a damn who my father is, you can't tell me that I don't love you, I know where my feelings stand." He scoffed at your words.

   "Even if you did love me, I could never love you because if I did, I would always have my doubts because of your abilities." His words stung like salt in a wound. You felt a few more tears streaming down your face.

   "You may doubt that I love you, but that doesn't change the fact that I do." He reached in his pocket and threw a glass vial at you which you caught in your hands. You looked down at the vial, observing it.

   "What is this?" You asked.

   "Anti Venom." He narrowed his yellow eyes, a very serious look on his face. You knew what this meant, he was done with you. You took a moment to dry your eyes and keep your composure before getting dressed and leaving the motel room. Once the door was shut, you couldn't keep it together any longer and you slumped down against the door and cried. After a few minutes, you heard Striker strumming his guitar from inside the room. He was singing a familiar tune that you recognized as "Ain't No Sunshine", but it was a deeper, more emotionally filled version of the tune. You listened somberly as he played, not sure how to feel or where to go from there.

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