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peaskyblonders · 4 years

Text

Tease

GIF NOT MINE!!!

John Shelby x reader

26: “Bite your lip one more time. I dare you.”

Warnings: swearing, slight choking (oops), reader being a tease

1.8k words

You had known the Shelby family for a few years now. You first met them when applying for a job as a bookkeeper when their business was still considered "small" and consisted mainly of family members, but considering you were one of the only women in Small Heath who knew how to add and subtract, they gave you the job and welcomed you with open arms.

The company eventually started to expand and grow and with that, so did your position at Shelby Company Limited. You moved from bookkeeper to John Shelby's secretary, a position that you were content with and wouldn't change for the world.

Unbeknownst to everyone else, you secretly favoured the mischievous Shelby brother to the rest. You remember how giddy you felt when you got offered the job and recall having to stop yourself from jumping with glee upon hearing the news.

You came to work early every day, making sure that Johns desk was tidy and everything was in place, you then wrote him a to-do list for the morning before moving towards your smaller desk across from his room. Your desk was placed directly in front of his windows so you had a clear view of him throughout the day. It was helpful as you could tell if he was too busy to deal with clients, bringing it upon yourself to take a message from them which you would forward onto him later in the day.

The placement of your desk also meant that John could see you at any given moment of the day, he wasn't complaining, of course. He was actually the one who insisted your desk be placed there. Truth be told, if he could have it his way, your desk would've been placed in the room with him, but he couldn't always get what he wanted and he supposed that what he was given was more than good enough.

Johns feelings for you started to shift after a month of you working for him. You had both gotten into a steady routine and were getting used to each other's company, you were getting more confident around the people that you worked with and started wearing clothes that you enjoyed wearing, rather than clothes you thought made you look professional. The first day you ever came to work for the Shelbys, you had on a pair of trousers, a day which John hasn't forgotten since. You seemed to have favoured wearings skirts to work recently, John had noticed, but he wasn't complaining as he knew you'd look good in anything and everything.

You had been wearing a skirt the day everything changed between you and John. You got into work and did all your necessary tasks, you believed it was just a normal day, but John, on the other hand, was frustrated the moment you sat down at your desk. He wasn't sure if you had noticed that your stockings were on full display to him, but he didn't really care as he was finding it difficult to concentrate on anything except them.

You were silently killing him as he nervously bounced his leg up and down behind his desk, hoping somehow to ease the tension that was building around him. He found it even worse that you had no idea what you were doing to him, you were just simply doing your work, he couldn't believe what kind of effect you had on him.

You, of course, knew exactly what you were doing. You could see how uncomfortable John was and you were loving every minute of it. You could see him from the corner of your eye as you did your paperwork and you were determined to see how far you could go before he cracked.

You knew you had to step it up a notch when you saw that John had calmed slightly, you shifted in your seat, trying to make your next moves appear to be as seamless as possible. You crossed one leg on top of the other and ran your hand along your thigh, exposing the garter of your stockings to John. You never once looked up from the paperwork on your desk and silently prayed that he was watching your every move.

He was, you realized when you looked up for a split second to find him already looking at you with his jaw clenched and his hand placed firmly on his knee, holding the majority of his body weight upwards. You gave him an innocent smile, as you normally would, and continued on with your work, trying your hardest to ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

You carried on with your work for an hour or two, until you eventually got bored and looked up into Johns office, finding him emersed in paperwork. You heard the telephone ring from your desk and quickly picked it up. "Shelby Company Limited, Y/N speaking, how may I help you?" you asked, you saw John's head shoot up at the sound of noise outside the office and you made eye contact with him as you continued your conversion with the man on the phone.

You bit your lip slightly as you listened to the man, and raised your eyebrows at John when he requested to speak with him. John furrowed his eyebrows at you causing you to smile and point at the phone and then towards him. He nodded his head when he seemed to understand your message so you redirected the call and hung up from your end. John leaned back in his chair as he took the call, but never seemed to remove his eyes from yours. He was staring at you with a look of hunger in his eyes and you were starting to think that you may have taken your game to far.

You tried to go back to work, putting an end to your childish game. Out of habit, you bit your lip as you calculated numbers, you hadn't even noticed you were doing it until you heard the phone slam down. Your head shot up and a shiver ran down your spine when you saw John motioning for you to come into his office.

You took a deep breath as you stood up, flatting out your skirt before you walked the short distance to his office and opened the door. "Everything alright, Mr Shelby?" you asked, an innocent look plastered on your face.

John scoffed at your words. "Would you like a drink?" he asked as he walked to the other side of his room, you made your way closer to his desk, wondering what the hell was happening and if you were about to get fired.

"Em no thank you, I don't drink while I work."

"You don't think it's ok to drink while working, but you think it's ok to tease me all day and not let me get any work done, huh doll?" he spoke as he took a predatory step towards you, causing you to walk backwards and lean on his desk.

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't act all innocent now, darling" he scoffed as he swallowed his drink in one long gulp. He leant down to place it beside you on the table. You could feel his breath on your shoulder and you bit your lip to stop yourself from letting out any noise. John straightened up and his eyes immediate fell towards your lips. He hand moved to gently grab your chin, his tumb removing your lip from your teeth before his hands fell down to hold the desk, entrapping you between him and the desk. "Bite your lip one more time. I dare you," he whispered as he looked deeply into your eyes.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat and john smiled mischievously at the sound. "We shouldn't be doing this, John" you warned, although your body seemed to be betraying you as you leaned closer to him.

"And why the fuck not?" he wondered, his head ducking down to be eye level with you.

"It's wrong, I'm your secretary, Imagine if Tommy found out-"

"Tell me you don't want this. Tell me and ill step back."

You, once again, bit your lip at his words, knowing that there was no way you could tell him you didn't want this when you had constantly dreamt about it for over a month. You opened your mouth to speak but before you could get any words out, John had slammed his lips onto yours, his two hands cupped your face, pulling you into him while his body pushed you further against his desk.

You kissed him back with as much force as you could, grabbing the sides of his suit jacket and pulling him even closer to you. You were certain he could feel every curve of your body and the only thought going through your mind was that you wanted him even closer.

John eventually pulled away, his chest rising and falling rapidly with every breath the took. He closed his eyes as he rested his forehead against yours. "Told you to stop biting that fuckin' lip, Y/N"

You brought your hand up to gently run your fingers over the side of his face. His eyes fluttered open at the feeling, causing a smile to grace your face. "Make me."

Those words seemed to be a breaking point for john. His eyes darkened in colour as he shoved the books off his desk and placed you on top of it. Standing in between your legs, he ran his hands along your thighs as he kissed you again, with more passion this time. One of his hands moved to grab the side of your neck while the other squeezed your thigh. You involuntary let out a moan and John grinned at the sound.

His mouth moved to your neck, kissing every bit of flesh that he could find until he found your sweet spot. He began to suck lightly on the patch of skin before pulling away and blowing lightly on it. "No hickeys, John," you warned.

He laughed as he placed a quick peck to your lips. "I'm afraid its too late for that, sweetheart. Besides, it'd be nice to look at tomorrow, a little reminder so to speak." You rolled your eyes at him, the action being cut off as he applied the tiniest amount of pressure to your throat. "None of that love."

"Just kiss me you idiot" you moaned as he resumed his previous position. You felt his hand move higher on your thigh, hissing lightly as he lifted your garter and let it fall against your skin.

"Now these have caused a tremendous amount of pain for me, think id prefer to just take them off, hmm?"

"John your anyone could walk past" you scolded, although your eyes were closed and you were leaning into his touch, so you doubt you put up much of a fight.

"Lets put on a show then," he grinned before kneeling down and removing your stockings at a painstakingly slow pace.

And put on a show he did.

#john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #john shelby one shot #Peaky Blinders #john shelby #john shelby fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #Shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine

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star-killer-md · 4 years

Text

My Foolish Heart

Requests:

@worm800 : babe, let's get some kylo fluff in here. KING of minimal and accidental kindness lmao. there's an option at the bottom of fluff prompts that says "writer's choice," so consider this a wildcard. some /suggestions/ i have are from the kiss prompts 7, 26, 25, 44. <3 <3 <3

@obsessionprofessional : I don’t know if you’re still taking requests (thanks, shitty tumblr functions) but may I request Kylo being sweet with the reader after you’ve had a bad day? Thank you!!!! Also please disregard this if your requests aren’t open!

Thank you both so much for requesting and waiting for me to actually write things. I hope you enjoy 💖

Summary: A little companion piece set before the events of DALDOM, one of RC’s very first dreams of Kylo after her promotion.

Warnings: the set up is angsty cause it’s me, but there’s some fluff at the end, you don’t really need to have read my longer fic to understand, but it might be helpful

Word Count: 1.5k

It was the yelling that did it.

That set you reeling and made your heart pound in your ears and your hands shake and your breath rattle in your lungs and—

And you wanted to put your fist through the top of your desk to relieve some of the pent up adrenaline, but that would mean admitting it got to you. Either way you came out wounded. At this point it was just a matter of what’s more important: your hand or your pride.

Hux’s voice still bounced around in your skull, bruising neural pathways with the way it echoed. Logically, you understood that sometimes situations were simply irreparable. That there were occasions in your line of work when egos had been too badly damaged or high ranking individuals too personally insulted for you to do any sort of patch job. To be fair, you were most certainly not the one who had shot down multiple allied space crafts during the invasion of a resource rich, outer rim planet killing the son of one very important ambassador in the process, but somehow it ended up on your desk nonetheless.

And there were not enough credits at your disposal to make up for a dead son.

You suspected there may not be enough credits in the whole of the galaxy to negate that loss.

Not that you would know—holodramas can only get you so far in understanding conventional family dynamics—but it seemed a cheap move even as the offer of compensation left your mouth.

Turns out, you were right.

The negotiations ended with a severing of ties from the Order and your ass in Hux’s line of fire. Of course it was you on the receiving end of his verbal arsenal seeing as Commander Trigger Happy Ren was conveniently predisposed in the medbay.

How fortunate for him.

You’d escaped to your office just in time, closed the door and sat and wished you had a pillow so you could scream into it. Because if you screamed, the stinging in your eyes might go away and take the growing knot in your throat with it.

You weren’t bad at your job, in fact you had just been promoted.

You thrived in fast paced environments, you could think on your feet and Hux must not believe you’re a complete moron—he did hire you—but you just…

There was nothing you could have done to salvage that meeting. Nothing you could have said or offered, but it felt like there must have been something you missed.

You wanted to be impressive, needed to be impressive. To whom you weren’t sure, maybe everyone. The look of disgust and disapproval on the General’s face was burned into your eyelids. You simply couldn’t stand the thought of failing.

This was the only thing you were ever actually good at.

And you needed to be good at it, because you didn’t have anything else.

Something wet and shameful dripped from your chin and onto the cold, metal desk. The stream continued until there was a veritable puddle forming, threatening to spill over the edge and soak your uniform trousers. What was it Hux had called you?

Pathetic.

Damn if you weren’t just proving him right.

You thought sourly of Kylo Ren. He’d surely be surrounded by medical droids and basking in the light of his victory, completely unbothered by its consequences. He stood on a pedestal—the hero of the First Order, its strongest weapon, a god in his own right leading you on the path to glory—while you were swallowed up in the shadow he cast.

Trapped in the dark trail left behind, you carried the weight of massacred planets and dead sons on your shoulders.

And how dare you falter.

How dare you be anything but grateful.

That’s what all your coworkers said when you got this position. What an honor, they said.

What an honor.

What an honor it was to work so closely with such powerful men.

And, gods, you had actually believed that.

What an honor?

What a load of shit.

You sniffed, wiping your face and nose on your jacket sleeve. This wouldn’t be the first time you’d been screwed over, and it most certainly wouldn’t be the last. The least you could do was finish the report quickly. That way it could be sent off to rest in the graveyard of all the Order’s other failed alliances and you could forget it had ever happened.

Which would give you more time to stew, more time to focus on who was truly at fault here.

You’d known very little about Commander Ren coming into this position—and while a reluctant part of you was enamored by his strength—the more you learned, the more he enraged you. In fact, you didn’t even know what he looked like behind that ridiculous mask he insisted on wearing at all times, but that mattered very little.

Your anger did not need a face.

Swiftly, you typed the report, forwarded it to the appropriate recipients and went directly to your quarters. The shifts would be changing soon and you wanted to escape into sleep for a while. The cafeterias would be open when you woke up anyway.

Something felt strange as you stripped and slid into your bunk, the hard mattress pressing into your spine. The blankets were thin and scratched painfully at your skin in the low light. Your eyes fell closed somewhat against your will, like it wasn’t quite sleep that pulled you hard into a dark unconsciousness, devoid of thought. But you didn’t have the power to resist it regardless. In seconds the room faded out into a drowsy haze and you surrendered into the comforting oblivion.

***

It felt like waking.

A sort of gradual coming into existence starting from your toes and working up until you could just barely peel your eyes open.

Your head was spinning in the way it often did when you woke up at your desk expecting to be in bed. That same, strange disorientation flitted about your brain as it registered whatever was laying underneath you was much softer and warmer than your mattress. It rose up and sunk every so often like it was breathing. Maybe it was. Certainly felt that way, considering the cool prickle of moving air on your neck.

Everything was still black, so you concentrated on the placement of your limbs in space. You were face down. There was something large and solid squeezed between your thighs, what felt like bone under muscle pressing in when you shifted. It felt very much like a body, with arms crushing you to a massive chest, and your head tucked into the crook of his neck. That explained the warmth then. You burrowed deeper into him, breathing in the scent of mint that fanned across your face.

After a few moments of settling, the body shifted. He dropped his head, grazing the softest, plushest, pair of lips over the shell of your ear. You shivered and his arms tightened around you, eclipsing your body in his. The lips wandered lower, ghosting across your neck and licking a wet stripe down until they reached the joining at your shoulder and nibbled at the skin.

Like he was tasting you, drinking the tension in your bones. With every press of his lips to your flesh, you went limp and melted into the body below you.

Long locks of hair brushed your nose as he moved, descending on the other side to suck and bite at the skin. Teeth dug in, stinging as they printed marks across your chest.

It was so…

Familiar.

A quiet hum escaped you and was muffled by the broad expanse of torso. That made him still, made him pause, and tilt your head back by the hair. His hand cupped the whole of your skull in his palm.

So big, so firm.

So all encompassing.

You couldn’t see, but you felt eyes on you—searching, though not finding.

There was breath on your lips, and it wasn’t your own. It was sharp and clean and so close you could taste the warmth of it. The burning inside your chest and eyes was laid to rest under his scrutiny. A hand, with calloused, thick fingers ran along the curve of your jaw, clenching every now and again as though they were accustomed to such a soft touch. Used to more force. A tighter grip, a more violent purpose.

But not here, and not now.

You inhaled deeply, stealing some of him and hoarding it deep inside yourself. It felt warm, like his hulking body below you.

It felt good.

It felt right.

It felt safe.

It felt like a beginning.

His hand tensed, and tucked you back into him like his ribs might crack open and swallow you whole. By degrees, your awareness faded out. Your limbs lost their physical presence and everything faded into this odd, in between space. This time it was sleep that called. So, calm, content, and willing you followed its call.

-----------------------------

#kylo ren x reader #daldom #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren drabble #kylo ren fluff #angst and fluff #prologue piece #dream cuddling

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lexiseigneur · 5 years

Text

Chapter two: Quinlan’s hunt

Chapter on ao3

Lexi did not sleep a single moment. Fear was not conducive to proper rest. Lightheaded and weak, she got out of bed as her alarm clock displayed an ungodly early time. Outside would still be dark at this hour. Where was Quinlan? The door of the free room stood ajar and she steered clear from it. This man was terrifying. Riddled with bullets he still walked about. Very clearly, he also had been whipped. The scars crisscrossed his marbled skin but she knew better than to start interrogating him about them. Other matters had distracted her immediately after their discovery anyway. Lexi dry-heaved at the memory of his drinking blood. Her blood. Enjoyment had completely transformed his face. Ugh.

Light flashed several times before settling when she flipped the switch in the infirmary. All she wanted was alleviating her malaise but the chaos of this usually pristine space was bothering her. Order was efficiency, efficiency was survival. Staggering but determined, she threw away all used instruments as well as cut clothing. With pure bleach, she disinfected all surfaces. The bullets she placed in a glass bottle filled with water. The liquid turned milky from the blood. Here lied the proof that despite her fear, despite her disgust, this man was hope. For a task that desperate, on which the survival of her species depended, she needed someone who could survive such punishment. Lexi did not plan on dying in this hole, alone and useless. If there was ever a cause worth joining, it was this one. The woman sighed and took a saline pouch out of the fridge. Veins rolled annoyingly under the push of the needle. Hands were an inconvenient placement for an IV but she had little choice. Then she perused for injectable vitamins and added their contents to the bag with a syringe. Iron sounded good and so did B12. The clear liquid turned pink. Waiting for the mixture to enter her system, she turned the bullet bottle between her fingers. Even his blood was white. Such a strange creature. So very civilized. Heavy footsteps echoed in the control room. Lexi took all the bottles, vitamins and bullets, and shoved them back in the fridge. She hooked the bag on the index finger of her unpierced hand and went to meet him.

Quinlan was fully dressed, coat, sword and her shirt.

- “I require a vehicle. Is this one in working order?”

His gloved finger pointed at the screen showing the feed from the topside entrance. By the doors leading to the elevator, an old truck was parked. Lexi tensed. Was this ungrateful monster really going to take her blood, her clothes and then her truck? Just like that, he was going to use her and leave? Oh hell, no.

- “Where are you going?” She asked and glanced at the drawer containing the car keys.

- “I must retrieve weapons from a cache. Yesterday, I was hoping to gain enough distance from the horde to reach it.”

- “I’m going with you.”

The dhampir stared. His eyes landed on the IV drip fastened to her hand.

- “You most certainly are not.”

Lexi’s nostrils flared in anger. The nausea was intense but she hid her discomfort. He would not drive away with her only vehicle, she would make sure of that.

- “That’s my truck and we are a package deal.”

Quinlan raised a prominent and hairless brow. Defiantly, she jutted her chin forward. I’m joining the fight, even if it means fighting you first.

- “Do not slow me down.” He said and turned away.

Lexi rushed to get dressed, took the keys from the desk and met him at the elevator. When they reached the surface, the sun had coated the countryside with its orange glow. She sat on the passenger side and tossed the keys to the dhampir. The IV bag she kept in her free hand against her shoulder. They departed and almost instantly, he sped up too fast for her comfort.

- “Slow down! Jeez!”

The truck still flew down the dirt road. Each pothole made her jump several centimeters in the air.

- “No. If you so desire, I can stop long enough for you to exit.”

Lexi felt the urge to punch him. With greeted teeth, she swallowed a reply. His expression barely changed but she could not help but think that he looked extremely smug. Fortunately, the ride lasted barely twenty minutes. They stopped at the edge of a field without any obvious characteristics. A few trees in the distance and patches of dying grass on the naked earth. Not even a fence or a traffic sign. Without a word, the dhampir got out, taking the keys with him. Lexi did not follow but stared as he made his way on the dry soil and crouched. When he stood back up, his hand was closed on a metal handle. A large metal trunk had been buried vertically and with a single hand, he tore it from the earth. The metal chest appeared just as weightless as he walked back. The truck shifted under the weight of this cargo. Exactly how strong was Quinlan? This was insane. Lexi braced herself for the ride back. At least, the nausea was subsiding as her circulatory system absorbed the saline solution. The bag was empty when they sped down a steady asphalt road. She removed the needle from her sore hand. A single drop of blood followed and rolled between her fingers. Shit. Lexi immediately covered it with her sleeve and glanced at Quinlan. The clear blue eyes were fixated on her. His expression was the same as the previous day: hungry. The woman cowered and reached for her gun. He detached his gaze and focused on the road ahead. The woman was unable to do the same. At that moment, he was the nearest danger.

- “I would feel more relaxed if you could stop staring.” He said with a rattle.

Lexi only did so because his speaking made him appear more human than Strigoi. They drove in silence and in the distance, deer sprinted away. At that moment the woman wished she could flee that fast and jump that high. Tires screeched and the seatbelt tensed on her body. The flat nylon strap stopped her from flying through the windshield as the truck connected with one of the large animals. Lexi could not breathe. Her chest was crushed by the violence of the impact. Desperate, she scrambled for the clasp and untied herself. The driver’s door was wide open and Quinlan was nowhere to be seen. Had he been propelled out? Clutching her contused clavicle, she stumbled out of the truck. A dead deer lay ahead on the road. Just a few paces to the right, the dhampir leaned above a still moving animal. As soon as it was immobile, Quinlan sprinted to the dead one. Sprinted was the wrong word. Lexi had just been able to see a blur. How fast was he? Although Lexi knew he likely had a stinger, she still grimaced at seeing it projected at the animal. Quinlan snarled in frustration. He took the back legs of the dead deer and lifted it as high as his arms could reach. The serpentine appendage contracted to absorb the blood. She understood immediately that Strigoi and apparently Quinlan, relied on the own heartbeats of their victims to drink. Gravity was only a subpar choice as it was slow. After a full minute, the dhampir’s stinger retracted and he tossed the animal off the road. The initial shock had subsided and left Lexi with growing furor. Her body hurt because of him.

- “You did it on purpose you goddamn MANIAC!” She yelled at him.

The metal bumper was dented as well as the edge of the hood.

- “It was necessary.”

Lexi snorted. What a load of crap.

- “Not it fucking wasn’t! I just saw you move! You could have outrun them!”

The dhampir was suddenly an arm’s length from her. A savage growl emerged from his chest.

- “ARE YOU THREATENING ME?” She roared at him.

She had given him her help, her blood, her favorite pajamas… Then he had damaged her property and had the nerve to give her attitude when confronted. I’m going to shoot him. Her hand flew to her side and found nothing. The holster was empty. The impact had dislodged the gun. No shooting him for now. It was probably for the best. Instead, she poked the center of his chest with an accusatory finger.

- “I’m driving now!”

The dhampir sneered and stared at her collarbone.

- “Once you calm down, you will be in no condition to drive.”

The woman could feel it. It was difficult to breathe deeply without agony shooting through her ribcage. Even moving her arms was becoming a struggle as the inflammation increased. Her lips contracted into a fine line. What she would give to wipe that smile off his face.

- “Fine!"

She sat back in the passenger seat where her gun had fallen. It was still tempting to shoot him but she put it back in its leather holder. Then she slammed the door shut and fastened her seatbelt. They resumed their drive in heavy silence. Lexi refused to even look at him. With each passing minute, her adrenaline levels decreased. The pain was almost too much to bear. Her breathing turned quick and shallow and she winced at each imperfection of the asphalt road. When they reached the dirt, she focused entirely on being quiet. Then they hit the first pothole and she could not hold back a cry. The last stretch would be torture. The car slowed down significantly. Lexi sighed in relief but would have rather cut her own finger off than admit that it helped. When they arrived, Quinlan exited and walked to her side. He opened the door and with another whimper, she got out. Every step of the way, she remained quiet but he helped her unprompted. Lexi did not even bother being embarrassed when she typed in the code calling the elevator. Of course, she had not given it to him the previous day. She had had no guarantee that he would come back if he left. In addition, she wanted to keep the option of refusing him re-entry.

Another cry of pain escaped her when the elevator cage stopped abruptly. Drops of sweat were falling into her eyes, mixing with tears she could no longer hold back. Avoiding Quinlan’s gaze, she walked carefully to the infirmary. Her arms moving as little as possible, she reached for a bottle of Vicodin pills. She swallowed one and attempted to remove her jacket. That range of movement was impossible without overwhelming agony. Did she have broken ribs? Frustrated, she grabbed the sheers she had used the previous night and cut her shirt open. A swollen welt from her shoulder to waist was forming rapidly. She faced the mirror and with extreme care, palpated her sides one by one. The pain of that self-examination made her want to vomit. Quinlan was using the elevator again. The pneumatic sound echoed in the control room. There was the loud clang of metal dropping on concrete and his heavy footsteps approached.

- “How are you?”

Quinlan had entered the room and she grabbed her jacket shut. Lexi did not want him to see her bruises. However, the painkiller was not yet working and she needed assistance.

- “Come help me.”

She asked and expected to be obeyed. Quinlan followed her to her bedroom where she whispered more orders.

- “Jacket, slowly.”

She faced away from him, and he pulled gently on the sleeves. The jacket fell around her ankles. She attempted to kick off her boots without success. He quickly untied and removed them without her asking. She’d suffer her cargo pants for the time being but her bra would cause her pain as it was tight around her ribcage. The woman trembled from embarrassment at being stripped like an infant.

- “Shirt.”

He grabbed the fabric around her shoulder and pulled down. It fell on the jacket.

- “The…the hooks.”

With her right hand, she pointed at the clasps of her bra. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her chest. He undid it and unhooked the straps from her shoulders. Her arms pinned to her sides prevented the undergarment from falling. She attempted to control her voice.

- “Please leave.”

There was a gush of wind and the door clicked shut. Knowing Quinlan had been a painful experience so far. She moaned as quietly as possible when lying down on her back. It did not take long for the medication to dull her torment. Humiliation kept her awake longer than the physical ache.

Quinlan inventoried the content of the metal trunk while she slept. It had taken time but her breathing had finally turned even and the stirring had stopped. The dhampir focused on her sounds every few minutes because of his guilt. Of course, she had no idea how close he had been to drinking her in that car and how weak he still was. Attempting to outrun deer on the little blood she had gifted him would have been a mistake. The gamey taste coated his tongue. How repugnant. Even with the quantity ingested, he was still far from his preferred state. Animal blood was a crutch. Setrakian’s sword lay on the desk next to the Occido Lumen. Quinlan had carefully separated objects made from silver before extracting the rest. There were Dr. Goodweather’s hard drives, given to him by the dying man himself. A duffel bag of clothing he had already put on his bed. Most of the trunk’s contents were ammunition and firearms. Too few for his liking. The dhampir sat and with a sewing kit, mended his coat. The harness holding his sword would remain usable but would need repair. With care, he conditioned the leather until satisfied with its flexibility and shine. Quinlan then headed to the bedroom and switched to clean waxed denim pants. The borrowed shirt was replaced by a tight cotton sweater and a vest partially covering the swirls of this throat.

His ear twitched. Lexi was stirring again and with that sound, the rumble of an empty stomach. Quinlan needed the small woman cooperative and that meant helping her as well. Memories of her naked back in front of him made him cringe and he headed to the kitchen. Cooking had never been a concern of his even when he had briefly enjoyed a normal domestic life. Nevertheless, he was not a bumbling idiot and had learned a few things passively. A clear jar contained dry oats and as the only familiar ingredient visible, it became his choice. Two handfuls would suffice considering how small she was. After dropping them into a metal pot and adding water, he placed them on the electric stove and waited.

Lexi had gotten out of bed and was using her bathroom. Noises of fabric rubbing on fabric followed by her moans and cries made him tense. Had he known the full extent of her injuries, he might have abstained from mocking her. How very petty he must have appeared to her. The swollen shoulder, so delicate as to appear bird-like, had been difficult to face. Removing the garments without adding to her discomfort had felt so very awkward. The woman had stopped crying and made her way to the control room and then, to the kitchen.

Quinlan glanced, froze and averted his gaze. A thin button-up shirt covered her frame. It had likely been the only top she could put on without forcing her muscles into agonizing positions. The fabric was too sheer for his liking and she had not managed to close it at the top. Resolutely, he avoided looking at what this revealed of her physique. Lexi sat and stared. The dhampir poured the slimy oatmeal into a bowl, stabbed it with a spoon and placed it in front of her. Thanks were not expected so he did not take offense as she remained coy. This was his doing and the least he could do was prevent her from starving. As she had done just a day prior. Lexi ate a spoonful and her eyes widened in surprise. Complete and utter disgust spread over her face. Oh. Had be made a mistake?

- “There is a jar of lemon jam in the fridge. Can you please…?”

He obeyed and she added the sweet gel to the porridge. Quinlan crossed his arms and waited patiently for her to consume her meal. Half-way through the bowl, she put the spoon down.

- “I thought about what you told me last night. Your first plan was the best and you need to try it again.”

The chair rattled when he pulled it to him and sat.

- “Please elaborate.” He asked as politely as he could.

- “You and your friends had it right the first time.”

His head cocked at the word. Had they been his friends? He doubted it.

- “The coffin idea worked.”

Quinlan sighed.

- “If it had, we would not be having this conversation.”

Lexi licked her lips and closed her eyes tightly. Was it the pain again?

- “It worked, Quinlan. The Master was lucky. Luck isn’t a talent or something he can control. Without that brat throwing a fit and exploding New York, he would be rotting at the bottom of the sea.”

Lexi ate another spoonful and Quinlan mulled over her words. The dhampir had not considered the question before for several reasons. The first being that he no longer possessed the coffin and that silver had become an exceedingly rare commodity. The quantities required to build another were out of his reach. The second reason was that he did not have the knowledge or expertise required to build another jamming device. Without that technology, forcing the Master into submission alone would be difficult. And if he managed, he would need to escape the thinking minions, while dragging a supremely heavy object.

- “The coffin is lost. After I fled from New York, the Master would have destroyed it.”

- “Build another one.”

- “Silver has become too rare…”

- “Use the book. It’s silver, isn’t it?”

The Occido Lumen indeed possessed a thick cover forged from the metal but it was very obviously insufficient.

- “It is…”

- “Too small, I know.”

Quinlan frowned in confusion.

- “You don’t need to lock up his shell, his body. Just the worm.”

His breath was stuck in his throat. He stood and paced the length of the room. The locket in his pocket was smooth against his fingers. Quinlan took it out to stroke it as he thought. Once before he had destroyed the Master’s body sufficiently for the worm to be uncovered. Surely, he could do it again? But that would require some assistance. Last time, he had not been alone.

- “The devices, the brains, I could not save them.”

The blast of the atomic device had destroyed them completely. Lexi nodded and swallowed another spoonful.

- “Those can also be built again.”

Quinlan’s heartbeat picked up. Had this woman answers for everything? After a year of scrambling after a plan doomed to fail from the start, he was hoping again.

- “Those Feeler brains were special… more powerful in the way they shared the bond.”

Lexi waved a dismissive hand and Quinlan caught himself smiling.

- “If I need a big battery and I only have small batteries, I just rig them up together and I get a big battery.”

The dhampir shook his head. What could she possibly mean by that?

- “The Feeler brains are big batteries and normal Strigoi brains are small…” She started.

- “…so you rig them up together and get a big one.” He finished.

Lexi grinned and nodded.

- “Would you be able to decipher Dr. Goodweather’s notes? To build those new devices?”

She shifted position to face him fully. With a sudden grimace of pain, Lexi cradled her shoulder and side. Quinlan was instantly back in the chair, cursing his restlessness.

- “It’s my job to understand how living things work.”

- “Are you a doctor?”

Their eyes met and she squinted.

- “I have a doctorate, yes.”

The formulation was strange but he did not care.

- “You must understand though, those notes are unlikely to be perfect and will still need adaptation.” She said. “Don’t expect me to start building things tomorrow or even next week.”

Lexi shut her eyes. Deep and cutting sadness fell on her face.

- “The worse has already come to pass. We have time…and with time we can accumulate resources.”

- “Agreed.” Said the dhampir.

Eagerness was pushing him to question further. Part of him wanted to start this instant and another was convinced that a flaw not yet discovered would render the plan impossible. No... She was right. The Master had been lucky. He would no longer be. Quinlan smiled viciously.

- “Were you always a…soldier? Warrior? I don’t know…”

The suddenness of the personal question caught him off guard. A soldier? Perhaps not. A predator…always. He elected not to tell her that.

- “Most of my life.”

Her hazel eyes scrutinized his face.

- “How old are you?”

That human curiosity.

- “I was born nearly two thousand years ago.”

She scrunched up her face, shook her head and waited for him to continue speaking. He remained quiet and she appeared almost worried.

- “Are you pulling my leg?”

- “Do I seem like the type of person to do such a thing?”

- “No… Really not.” She blurted out. “Why do you even have a British accent?”

Quinlan shrugged as he did not have the inclination to answer all of her queries. Her eyebrows knitted together.

- “Why are you alone? Why aren’t the other dhampir helping you?”

This was a fair question but based on an erroneous premise.

- “There were four before me but they are long dead.”

- “Well, that…”

She glanced at him then away. Was she pitying him and his lonely existence?

- “…must suck only having slow and weak humans as a backup.”

Quinlan did not bring up the Strigoi he had trained for the Ancients. Those were also dead. And so were the humans who had brought him so very close to victory. All dead. It struck him that the same fate awaited this one, whether they succeeded or not.

- “It does at times.”

Why was this useful woman in such a particularly weak body? It had only been a day and she was already injured.

- “How many Strigoi have you killed?” He asked.

It was his turn to interrogate. Lexi snorted.

- “Well, you were there. I did not count how many.”

- “On the hill…this was the first time you killed a Strigoi?”

The woman blushed and her ears, cheeks, and chest turned a lovely pink.

- “Yes. I usually avoided them. Until someone dragged an army of them on my doorstep.”

Quinlan ignored the quip and focused on the meaning. Literally no experience. Nothing.

- “You need to learn how to fight them. Firearms eventually run out of bullets and are pointless in very close combat.”

Lexi’s blush intensified. Quinlan tried not to look at the blood rushing under the delicate skin above her heart. The hint of a burn appeared in the back of his throat.

- “What…with you? You want to teach me?”

Quinlan stood and filled the bowl with another helping of porridge. To fight, she needed to heal and healing required sustenance.

- “You can study Dr. Goodweather’s research until you are healthy. Then you will learn how to defend yourself.”

Lexi ate in silence while the dhampir imagined each step of the plan.

#mr. quinlan #the strain #quintus sertorius #the strain fanfiction #the strain fanfic #the strain fx #quinlan

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