hello!!! could you maybe write something abt reader helping ghoul feel better abt his scars during sex? i feel like it would be really sweet. thank you!
a/n: hello! i have been neglecting my asks so hard and for that i'm sorrryyyyyyyy. i really loved this ask though as someone who struggles with body image and my own scars. thank you anon this is so sweet! one million smooches to you! little drabble for y'all.
It’s subtle. Just the smallest tightening under your hands when your fingers brush over the raised skin. You feel it immediately. The way his breathing shifts. The way his shoulders pull in like he’s bracing for something that isn’t coming.
You lift your head from where you were kissing down his chest and look at him.
“Hey,” you murmur.
He shrugs, but he won’t quite meet your eyes. Ghoul’s always been loud, teasing, and confident. All sharp smiles and swagger, but this is different. Smaller.
“It’s not pretty,” he mutters, trying to make it sound like a joke. “Kinda ruins the view, huh?”
Your heart cracks clean open.
You sit up fully, straddling, and take his wrist gently so he can’t turn away. You don't rush. You just look at him, soft and steady, until he finally looks back.
“I love them,” you say.
He scoffs lightly. “You don’t have to-”
“I do,” you interrupt, still gentle. “They’re yours. They’re a part of you. Every inch of you.”
You press a kiss to one of the scars, slow and deliberate. Not hurried, not erotic. Just reverent.
He goes still.
Another kiss. This one to the curve of his shoulder, where the skin is uneven. Your fingers trace the lines like you’re memorizing constellations.
“You survived,” you whisper against his skin. “That’s not ugly. That’s... incredible.”
His hand comes up, hesitant at first, settling on your waist like he’s grounding himself. Like he’s not sure he’s allowed to feel this.
“Doesn’t feel incredible,” he admits quietly.
You lean down so your foreheads touch.
“Then let me help you see it the way that I do.”
Your thumbs brush over the scar along his collarbone, and instead of avoiding it, you stay there. You let your touch linger. Warm. Intentional. Affectionate. You kiss the marks like they deserve tenderness, because they do.
Slowly, you feel the tension leave him.
His breathing deepens. His grip on you grows more confident as you ride him slowly, tracing your hands up and down the uneven ridges of his chest. He’s not defensive anymore; he’s present.
When he pulls you down to kiss you, it’s different than before. Softer. Less performance, more feeling. Like he’s letting himself be seen instead of hiding behind his charm.
And as you move together again, it isn’t about distracting him from his scars.
It’s about reminding him he’s wanted exactly as he is.
Ok, posting the second part even though it’s the asscrack of dawn. I’m having a lot of fun with this, I think picking up an old piece and working on that instead of writing something entirely new is really helping me get back in the swing of things :]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
If you end up giving it a read let’s kiss on the mouth, ok?
Plot: Reader hears a lot of rumours about the BAU before she applies to join the team. (Part 2 here!)
Author's Note: I love the idea of the BAU being notorious in the FBI, because honestly, they totally would be! And I would be lying if I said I've never crushed hard irl on a mysterious genius boy...
Masterlist
------------
Before you decided to join the BAU, you had heard all kinds of gossip about its members. It was a hot topic among your colleagues, but you could hardly blame them for the shameless act, when you left one ear open for it yourself.
Professionally, if they weren't called the BAU, people called them the "serial killer guys", since they couldn't seem to escape them in their cases. But among your lunch group, they were called "The Seven".
It was an embarrassing name in your opinion, too easily implying that the BAU was elite, untouchable. But the more you learned about them, the more you thought there could some truth to it.
Number One was SSA Hotchner, the unit chief known for his stone cold attitude. You heard a rumour that he once threatened the BAU section chief without so much as batting an eye. Anybody else would have been fired on the spot, but it seemed that Hotchner was so unrivalled in his job that he was asked to stay anyway.
Hotchner's opposite was SSA Rossi, who seemed to be the more "human" of the two, but that didn't make him any less intimidating. He was famous both in and out of the FBI, having built the BAU from the ground up, and written multiple best-selling books about criminal analysis. Why he decided to return to the BAU was a mystery to everyone, but you had a feeling he actually missed it.
Then there was SSA Prentiss. Everyone's consensus was that she seemed nice, but ultimately professional. People theorised that her political upbringing made her into a politician herself, but you once saw her in the BAU office laughing so hard that tears started rolling down her cheeks, and that's when you decided she couldn't be as stiff as the rest made her out to be.
SSA Morgan was the one everybody liked, on a shallow level at least. All your fingers and toes weren't enough to count how many people you knew had a crush on him. You've seen grown women visibly swoon when he walked by, which was partially hilarious for you, but also partially embarrassing for womenkind. You could see the appeal, somewhat, but he wasn't your speed.
Your favourite was JJ. Jennifer Jareau was the BAU's communications liaison and the only one you'd dare call a friend. You'd worked with her on multiple cases in the past, and in fact, she was the one who recommended you for the new position. She's a complete sweetheart, but you also knew that she once headshot an unsub right in the BAU office to protect Penelope. That fact only increased your admiration for her.
She was also the one to introduce you to the BAU's infamous technical analyst. You had heard of Penelope Garcia prior to that, but she so rarely emerged from her office that you almost thought she was a myth. The real person was unlike an FBI agent at all, always donning some combination of bright colours, feathers, and/or sparkles. Most people who'd seen her labelled her as a weirdo, but there was something about her, a sense of positivity, that you loved.
Last but not least, the one that slipped under everyone's radar, Dr. Spencer Reid. People didn't talk much about Dr. Reid because, well, there was nothing really to talk about. He was the youngest person to ever join the FBI, had an IQ of 187, and you thought he was far too pretty to be doing a job this terrible, but that's where the conversations usually ended.
Everything that could be said, envied, or admired about the genius had simply been covered already, and he offered no new fodder for the gossip trolls to chew on; he rarely left the office, he didn't mingle with the other departments, and frankly, everyone thought he was socially awkward.
Yet, you found yourself continuously coming back to him in your thoughts. Maybe, subconsciously, you wanted to join the BAU so that you could figure him out.
The first time you met Dr. Reid, he was giving the profile of an unsub to the larger team. His words sped by so quickly, yet with so much insight and detail that you found yourself scrunching your face in concentration in order to get it all, and that impressed you.
You had always been a quick study but you instantly knew that Dr. Reid would be a challenge, both professionally and personally, and you hadn't even got to know him yet.
As you submitted the request to join the BAU, you admit that the excitement of that challenge was at the forefront of your mind. And when you were called into SSA Hotchner's office a few months later, the thought rang in your head even louder.
"Agent Hotchner, you called for me?" You asked at his door, suddenly feeling timid in the face of your potential boss.
"Sit down, agent," he said without looking up. As you took a seat, he opened a file that was undoubtedly yours and looked up. His eyebrows were furrowed, but if what you'd heard about him was true, this didn't necessarily mean anything bad. And you were right.
"I have your test results with me," he began. "Firstly, I'd like to congratulate you for scoring the highest in your class." You swore he almost cracked a smile.
"I've also heard a lot about you. Your boss had many good things to say about your work ethic, your field experience, and your commitment to justice," he continued.
Now it was your turn to smile.
"But I want to know the real reason why you want to join the BAU." Your smile faltered slightly, something that you're sure Hotchner would pick up on.
He leaned forward in his desk, purposefully applying pressure on the situation, and you let out a quiet breath in preparation.
"The reason I wanted to join the BAU may not be new to you, but I'm looking for a challenge. I want to make a change." You started. "I understand that those two may be contradictory principles, but I believe I can grow and do a lot of good with the BAU."
"And what if the job gets too much for you?" He asks, a flicker of emotion that I didn't recognise crossing his face.
"I'm prepared for that," you said determinedly. "I may not know what this job will take from me, but I'd like the opportunity to prove that I can grow from it, sir."
Agent Hotchner eyed you for a moment before standing up. "Very well, then." He reached out his hand. "Welcome to the BAU."
You looked at his hand for a second, the shock barely registering, before scrambling to your feet. "Thank you, sir! I won't disappoint you!" You shake his hand grinning.
"And next time, just call me Hotch." He said, this time smiling amusedly at your enthusiasm.
"Got it, and thank you again, sir." You said, excusing yourself from his room with a noticeable skip in your step.
You tried to cool yourself off walking back to your department to share the good news, but the excitement proved too much to hold in when a familiar voice calls out to you.
"Hey babygirl, considering you just came out of Hotch's office with a smile, I'm guessing you're going to be our newest teammate."
You turned around, trying to swallow your giddiness, when you realised that person was none other than SSA Morgan.
"Agent Morgan," you stuck out your hand in greeting. "Nice to meet you, and yes, I am."
"Derek." He corrected, grinning as he shook your hand. "Looking forward to working closely with you."
"Just call him Morgan. Don't need to get too close to this player." SSA Prentiss nudged Derek out of the way, raising her hand to meet yours. "I'm Emily Prentiss."
You giggled at their closeness.
The rest of the introductions quickly followed, including hugs from JJ and Penelope, and a starstruck moment when Rossi left his office to personally welcome you to the team. But there was one person whom you hadn't formally met yet.
Dr. Reid had finally separated his head from his work amidst the commotion (plus a very strong encouragement from one Mr. Derek Morgan to "go get her, pretty boy") and walked up to you, a nervous gait in his step.
He stuck his hand out to your surprise, having heard that the doctor was a tad germaphobic, and shook yours. "Dr. Spencer Reid," he said. "But you can call me Spencer, everyone else does."
"Nice to meet you, Spencer." You tried out the foreign name on your tongue. "Honestly, I'm quite a fan of your academic papers. I'm looking forward to working with you."
You knew the genius was a bit awkward, but he instantly turned beet red at your words and retracted his hand. The thought that this was the first time somebody had complimented him this way made you a little sad. But you thought his reaction was incredibly cute, and apparently so did the rest.
"Pretty boy, pret-ty boy, is that how you should react around a lady?" Derek sing-songed, putting his arm around the poor genius' shoulders, tugging him down.
JJ shot you an apologetic look for her childish teammates, while the rest joined in to poke fun at Spencer. Although he was frowning, his voice betrayed no hints of annoyance. Clearly they were all very close.
You laughed along, feeling a growing warmth in your chest, and wondered if you'd be a part of this family in the future.
But first, you’d have to get used to being the Eighth.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“Shouldn’t I be on top? More so than I am now, I mean.” Munkustrap turns his attention back to drowning her in lazy kisses, reassured that nothing is wrong. He starts back at Demeter’s neck, following the naked curve where her collar usually sits. “If you want to be,” he breaths. She shivers against the sudden heat of his voice. “Though I think you look very nice exactly where you are.” Demeter closes her eyes, turning her head to the side to give him more room to explore. Her reply is unconvincing, her pleasure obvious. “I’m being serious. This is supposed to be about you.” “And it is. I’m paying attention to the best part of me right now.” — Or, Demeter pegs.
pairing: Hallmark Christmas Movie Au! Poe Dameron x Reader
word count: 6.9k+ words
summary:
warnings: alcohol cw
Adore You series: 01, 02, 03, 04, ... - AO3
Even though you’re on vacation, you are far from exempt from your work. And nothing is proving that more than the headache you nurse as you continue pouring over document after document on your tablet. Numbers and figures, charts and graphs, blueprints and sketches, even interviews and gossip articles – they’re all blending together after staring at the screen for what’s likely been hours.
Snoke’s call the night before was not a social one – they never are. He was going on about some acquisition Kylo’s been trying to make for the past few months, and apparently, he was missing something crucial, which is where you usually come in. The two of you have always been a team for a reason. He was more of the passion and ideas, whereas you were better with relations and logistics.
Snoke had immediately sent over hundreds of digital files for you to go through and find… well something. Most likely some kind of professional blackmail. Some kind of small violation or incident that would really be such a shame if it came to the media's attention. You know, the usual.
So far, everything they’ve done is up to code, as far as you can tell. But Snoke won’t take no for an answer. He’d have your head for it. So you continue looking through page after page, searching for some dirt, searching for any kind of upper hand on the competition.
After coming back in that night while on the phone with Snoke, you blew past your parents and went straight up to your room, where you’ve been for almost the entirety of this Sunday. You couldn’t even face them after that absolute embarrassment of an evening. And though this morning you did stalk around the house if only to get a thing or two to eat, you pointedly ignored your mother, only giving your father a small silent nod of acknowledgment.
Stealing away to your room for a full day of silent, frustrating work was not exactly your idea of a fun vacation back home, but neither was last night. Just the thought of running into Poe again makes you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment and stress. He probably thinks you’re an idiot now. Probably never wants to see you again. And who could blame him if he did?
If you were a different woman, you’d probably have shed a few embarrassed tears in the solitude of your room, but that wasn’t you. Not anymore. So you rub your eyes once again, and get back to work.
You’re back to staring at a tax filing by the company’s CEO from seventeen years ago when a notification pops up at the top of your screen.
Unknown Number
hey! its rose! i got ur number from when you called the shop lol hope thats not creepy
i was wondering if ur busy tonight? i was thinking of getting drinks w/ some friends at Kanata’s! wanna come? i can pick u up since ur ride is chopped ;)
You blink back at the notification. Drinks? At Kanata’s?
You can’t remember the last time you actually went out with a group of friends, especially for fun. Taking clients you and Kylo were wooing out to dinner was a common occurrence. But fun? They were never.
Another wave of anxiety washes over you. Friends? Who were these friends? Would they like you? Did you know them? Maybe it would be better to just stay and finish your work. Nothing could go wrong if you did that.
You open the message, absolutely ready to type an excuse why you can’t come, when there’s a gentle knock at your door. You already recognize it as your mother by the way she knocks even before she calls out gently.
“Love? You in there?”
“I’m here.” You leave your voice flat and emotionless. You need her to know you’re still mad.
“Can… Can I come in?”
‘No’ dances on the tip of your tongue for a strong moment, but the uncertainty in her soft voice gives you pause.
“...Okay.”
The door clicks open slowly and your mother pokes her head in, a small, nervous smile affecting her features. You only look at her blankly from your nest of blankets and pillows that have been on your bed since high school.
She steps more fully into the room, closing the door behind her most of the way. She leaves it open just a little, giving the both of you some air to breathe, but also, in a way, making sure not to lock herself in a cage with a wounded animal.
And she approaches you like one–cautious, hands visible and apologetic. You huff, curled up in the corner of your bed, and try to look anywhere but at her. But she’s hard to avoid as she sits gently on the far edge of your bed and pulls her hands into her lap, looking down and rolling them over one another contemplatively. You two sit like this for a moment, simmering in the uncomfortable tension, but like hell you’re the one with anything to apologize for.
She lets out a deep sigh. “I’m… so, so sorry… about my behavior last night. I suppose I just… wasn’t handling your absence as well as I thought I was.”
Despite the small sorrow your heart finds at her small and broken tone, the anger–rage even– that has been boiling since the night before claws desperately to be let out. You breathe deeply, and do your best to keep it still in its place. But that doesn’t exclude the fury that seeps into your quiet voice, as you level your gaze with hers.
“Mom, that was the most embarrassing thing that has happened to me in my entire professional career. I need you to know this.”
She nods understandingly and looks back to her fiddling hands. “Yes. I know. And I couldn’t be sorry enough. I realized...I– I don’t know how to be your mother anymore.” You blink at this. A terrible lurch in your gut crawls into your throat at the sight of the tears silently beginning their descent down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do for you when you're a grown woman who’s accomplished so much on her own without me. I miss you, but I’m not really sure I know you anymore.”
She looks up suddenly at you, her face twisted with grief and regret.
“I didn’t mean it like that… I-”
You stop her, shaking your head, swallowing the lump in your throat, willing the sudden strange wetness in your eyes away. Your voice comes out more choked up than you wish. But whatever wall was up is quickly crumbling away.
“No… Mom, I think I understand.” You look down at your own hands now, picking at your nails nervously, silently discovering the lineage of this habit of yours. You smile sadly at the thought. “I feel that way too sometimes… about myself.”
“Oh, love.” Your mother reaches out, placing her hand on your foot, the only part of you she can reach, and squeezes it gently. She smiles sweetly, her eyes and cheeks still wet, though she’s wiped away the tears.
“You’re not my little girl anymore… but you’re still my daughter, and I’ll love you no matter what.”
You nod, suppressing a sniff as you rub at your nose. She squeezes your foot one more time before standing up and making her way back to the door. She reaches for the handle when you call out.
“I love you, Mom.”
The smile she sends you is genuine, heartfelt, and warming to your core. It makes you realize how much you truly missed your mother, even if she had her difficulties. “I love you too, girlie.”
With that, she closes the door, leaving you alone with your tablet and the unanswered message. But you know your response now.
Me
Sounds fun! Let me know what time. I’d love to come, if you’ll have me.
You begin entering Rose’s information into your contacts and her response is almost immediate.
Rose Tico
duuuh! ill get u at like 8ish? and we’ll meet them there! cant wait!
You look down at the message and can’t help but feel a little more at home.
______________
You run a hand through your hair, adjusting your outfit for the hundredth time. You’ve opted for something more casual tonight. Something a little more friendly, approachable. You suddenly frown at your reflection. You don’t need these people’s approval. Well, no. But it wouldn’t be so bad to be friendly for once would it?
The two voices in your head continue to battle it out, leaving you frozen in the mirror, desperately trying to understand how you feel in this moment. Anxious? Perhaps. Regretful of accepting this invitation? Maybe.
Your phone chirps, lighting up on your desk. Glancing over, you see it’s Rose. You don’t need to read it to know it’s just her announcing her arrival, but you pick it up anyway, settling down on your bed and slipping on your shoes as you open the message.
Rose Tico
here!!! right in front lol
Me
One moment!
You lace up your boots quickly, practically sprinting out of your room and down the stairs, snatching up your long coat on the way.
“I’m headed out, I won’t be back until you guys are already in bed. So, goodnight.”
You call out to the living room as you pull on the coat, your parents turning from their seats on the couch, eyeing you with interest.
“And where are you going this late, young lady?” Your father questions sarcastically, raising an eyebrow.
“Out with friends,” you rush, already halfway out the door, spotting Rose in her car and giving a small wave. “Love you, bye!”
Half-jogging down the steps, you cross quickly but cautiously through the snow-laden yard, careful not to slip. As you close the gate behind you, Rose is already opening the passenger door from the inside, beckoning you in.
“Get inside, it’s freezing!”
You allow yourself a small laugh and slide into the seat next to her. Pulling the door closed, you look around, taking in the space of the car, as she starts it back up and pulls away from the curb.
Like most things in The Base, it’s worn and old, peeling and chafed, likely held together with duct tape and love. But despite all of its imperfections, it’s not only comfortable, it’s cozy. It’s warm and personal, every dent containing a story, every mile meaningful.
You can’t help but think back to the chill rigid efficiency of your TIE. Sure, it gets the job done, and is mighty stylish while it does so, but you’ve never felt like it was yours. Never felt anything but cool indifference for its sleek lines and dark exterior.
“So, you’re looking snazzy tonight.” Rose pulls you out of your thoughts with her cheery tone.
You look down at your outfit, once again tugging at its hems.
“Am I? I was actually trying to dress down.”
She laughs at that. “You think that’s dressing down? No way, this is dressing down.” She takes one hand off the wheel, gesturing at her own attire: A brown button-up with a sewn name tag and a pair of dark cargo pants. Likely the uniform she wore to work today. Her cool attitude and smooth voice put you at ease, and you can feel your guard begin to lower.
“I like this on you,” you quietly praise. You pick at your nails, continuing, “Don’t take this the wrong way, please, but… I admire that you can wear clothes like that and feel comfortable. I feel like I have to dress up all the time, no matter what. I don’t know… I- Nevermind.”
You look up at Rose and she pulls her eyes away from the road for a moment to give you a meaningful look. She nods sympathetically, her previous lightness replaced by understanding. She realizes the weight of this seemingly minor admission.
“I get it, I do.” She gives you a soothing smile. “I just hope you can feel comfortable here… with us. We like having you back, even if just for a moment.”
Still smiling, she turns back to the wheel with a light shrug. “Plus, this isn’t Canto Bight. You’ll look great no matter what.”
You groan, half sardonic, half-serious. “Oh, please don’t remind me. You know, I thought I was a vulture, but those people,” you give an audible shiver. “They’re something else.”
Rose laughs melodically. “Oh, do tell.”
______________
The ride to the bar is short, the car only really needed for warmth, but the company is appreciated. Rose laughs along to your story of once attempting to cover for Kylo’s drunken rage in front of investors, and while it was a very unamusing situation at the time, you find yourself chuckling with her.
“Well, that’s why we don’t let him have Bespin Fizzes anymore.”
Rose giggles at that, before piping up in her seat a little. “There it is!”
The bar comes into view just ahead, a familiar neon sign reading Kanata’s hanging overhead a small brick building. The parking lot is compact, but practically full, reminding you just how small the town is, as Kanata’s is the only real bar in the whole Base, and as such, is the town’s favorite happy hour hangout.
She leans up the dashboard, pointing to an old, grey, junky Corellian that’s as familiar to the town as the bar.
“There’s the Falcon,” she points out with a smile, though you don’t need her to tell which car it is. “They’re here.”
You nod, smiling at the old hunk of junk fondly, before suddenly realizing what the Falcon’s presence implies. She pulls up to the spot next to it as you turn to her.
“Wait, we’re getting drinks with Han? ” You try not to sound upset, only curious, but Rose reads your panic easily.
“No, silly,” she giggles, and seems to dodge the question, stepping out of the car. You quickly follow behind, stepping out into the chill night air. Closing the doors, Rose rounds the car and you trail next to her, past the Falcon and towards the bar's entrance. She continues her explanation without you having to ask.
“About five years ago, Han gave the Falcon away.”
“He gave it away? Why would he do that? To who?”
She pushes open the door, leading you into the dimly lit bar, which you only now realize with its unfamiliar interior, that you never stuck around to be old enough to actually enter it. The lights are low, yellow and red, but not unwelcoming, in fact creating a warm atmosphere. It’s brightest around the bar itself, with neon and string lights, as patrons sit on the stools, chatting over the low playing jukebox on the far side of the room. Near it are a couple of pool tables, busy with players in the middle of games. A few locals drink in booths against the walls, however Rose leads you towards the high tables and stools in the middle of the room. You’re scanning the bar for anyone you recognize when you finally see where she’s leading you– to the only couple occupying the tables, and your heart drops into your stomach as your fight or flight instinct kicks in.
“To them!” Rose points but once again you don’t need her helpful hand to see what you need to.
At the table is a girl you don’t recognize with a sweet face and dark hair, but it’s the familiar face next to her that makes you want to run.
Finn, your old classmate, but more importantly your old employee, sits smiling and laughing, casual as anything. You knew Finn left First Order – on very bad terms, one would be remiss to forget – after a fateful trip home for somewhere less cutthroat and competitive, but you thought that meant somewhere like Alderaan. You didn’t think he’d come back, and you certainly didn’t think you’d actually see him here.
Rose doesn’t notice your hesitation, continuing to pull you forward and calling out to her friends. She catches their attention, waving, and you brace for the moment of impact.
Finn is going to be mad that you’re here. He’s going to be furious. He’s going to stand up and yell at Rose about how awful of a person you are and make sure nobody in this town will even so much as smile at you ever again. He’s going to laugh in your face and tell you to go back to Coruscant and you’ll do it because you’re so deeply embarrassed.
The girl turns first, smiling and waving back at Rose. She grins brightly at you as well, obviously unfamiliar but still friendly. Finn turns second with an easy expression, glancing at you briefly before doing a double-take. His face falls, but not into anger like you expect. It drops to confusion, like he’s making sure it’s you, which then turns into half-smug disbelief, a bewildered smile taking over his features.
Finn speaks first. “No-freaking-way.”
Tension still wracks your body as he steps off the stool, meeting you and Rose in front of the table. Rose looks between the two of you before dropping your hand and covering her eyes.
“Oh my God, I totally forgot about the whole…” She looks to you apologetically, not towards Finn, which confuses you. “I’m so sorry I forgot to say.”
“No, I- it’s okay. I just hope I’m not intruding.” It seems that this town just loves to leave you at a loss for words.
Finn laughs, seemingly completely at ease. “Not unless you’re here to talk about work. Or to try to win me back.”
“God, no. Not that we wouldn’t love to have you back but,” you glance quickly at the friendly girl still sitting at the table, obviously confused. “I understand that you’re much happier here.”
“That I am.”
“Then that’s all I care about.”
Rose absolutely buzzes with energy at the exchange. “Yay! So we’re all still friends and everything?” Her hands are clasped and her hopeful eyes flicker back and forth between the two of you.
You turn your gaze back to Finn, hoping that you look as genuine as he does. “I hope so.”
“I don’t see any reason why not,” He smiles warmly at you, offering his hand. “Besides, you weren’t exactly the one that left me with a bad taste in my mouth.”
You take his hand easily, and just barely manage to quell your surprise when he uses it to tug you into a warm hug. The recent bombardment of hugs you’ve received in the past few days is the only thing that gets your arms moving properly, wrapping loosely around Finn for a moment before you part.
As you pull back, an awkwardness comes to hang in the air as a silence settles between the four of you. You suddenly remember the girl at the table seemingly the same moment that Finn does. He pipes up, turning towards her and half leading you to the table where they were sitting.
“Right, uh, Rey, I’d like you to meet an old friend of mine.”
You extend a hand and introduce yourself to the woman, Rey, and she lets out an awkward laugh as she takes it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I was a bit, erm, hesitant to intrude on the moment. Seems like there’s a lot of history going on here.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” Finn laughs before his nose scrunches up in thought. “Actually, you might have some idea. You know the place I used to work before we met?”
Rey’s face twists in disgust. “You mean that awful tech company? God, you couldn’t stop talking about how awful it was for almost a year. Must’ve been terrible. Did you work there too?”
She looks to you as your cheeks heat up and you can't help the grimace that creeps into your expression. “I actually still do.”
Finn opens his mouth but Rey beats him to it. “Oh no, that must be awful. What do you do? Get yelled at all day by some tall blonde woman like Finn did?” She chuckles at her own joke, but she’s the only one. Finn and Rose look like they’d rather be anywhere else. Probably at the bar. With strong drinks. Yet, you feel a chill indifference wash over you. The one you feel whenever you walk through the doors of the First Order offices and meetings.
“Actually I’m the COO.”
Rey’s jaw slackens with the shock, mouth starting and stopping any words she attempts to get out. “I… I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.” Finn has his head fully in his hands and Rose looks like she might die. But you smile softly.
“It’s okay. I’ve heard far worse before. From people whose opinions were far more important.”
The urge to storm out tugs at your gut but your feet stay planted. It’s strange. You’re not quite sure what emotion it is that you’re feeling exactly. There’s anger, but it’s the blow to your pride that fuels it. There’s certainly embarrassment. Mostly, you realize it’s guilt. Guilt that the company you worked so hard to build has hurt people - people that you care about. You knew it happened, probably every day, probably right at this moment, but being faced with the conversations that people must be having behind your back… It hurts. It hurts in many directions.
“Drinks!” Rose chirps loudly, desperate to break the tension. “I’ll go get us some drinks!”
She spins on a dime and immediately heads towards the bar. Looking between you and Rey, Finn gulps. “She’ll probably need some… help with those…” He’s immediately out of his chair and trailing behind Rose.
Rey sits quietly, a thoughtful look on her face as you finally take a seat on the stool across from her. The silence hangs for a moment as the jukebox croons quietly in the background.
“I really didn’t mean it that way,” Rey starts quietly. “It’s just…” She leans towards you, elbows resting in front of her on the table. Her eyes are earnest, kindness pouring forth. “Finn was miserable when we met in Jakku. Work was stressing him out to no end, but mostly… he felt like he was hurting people. He had a stable and successful job but… what did it cost him? All he ever wanted to do was help people.” She sighs, and a small smile tugs at her lips. “I like to think I helped him, but really, he knew all along what he had to do. I’m so grateful that we’re both here now, working with the kids, helping people where it feels like it really matters. I can’t speak for you, but it sounds like you’re proud of your company, and I’m glad but… It just wasn’t right for Finn. I hope I haven’t offended you.”
You’re momentarily stunned by her small speech. Not just the words but her honesty. You can tell from the tone of her voice just how much she cares for Finn and how much she believes in their cause. You find a small stain on the table, gazing at it intensely in thought. You’ve just wanted to help people too, all your life, but making something of yourself always came first it seemed. You told yourself you were helping people, creating new things that made so many people’s lives easier, donating intensely to charities, but how many people were you hurting on the way? How many times can you tell yourself that some eggs must be cracked to make an omelette? How many people have you screwed over, blackmailed, and outright stolen from? How many shady people have you bought from or sold to? How many things have you ignored or swept under the carpet just to keep business running as usual?
“If it helps… Finn always spoke highly of you.”
You look up as Rey draws you out of your thoughts, something she obviously picks up on going by her smile.
“Well… He’s a good man. A good friend before he was an employee… I didn’t mean what I said either - about your opinion not mattering. That’s not true, I just…” You trail off, but look up to find comfort and forgiveness in her warm expression. You give her a small genuine smile of your own. “Maybe we should just start over.”
You extend a hand, introducing yourself and she does the same, laughing lightly as she does so. At that moment, Rose and Finn come shuffling over, each balancing a tray with a few colorful drinks and rounds of shots. Placing the trays on the table, Finn eyes your smiles and parting hands.
“Are you guys… Is everything good now?”
You nod, laughing. “Yes, I think we just got off on the wrong foot.”
“And we’re just here to have a good time and hang out - no work talk.” Rey winks at Finn. He lets out a hearty laugh, clapping you two on the back.
“Oh, you two are good.”
“Actually, there’s one more thing,” Rose cuts in. She looks absolutely tickled pink, poorly suppressing her roguish grin. Finn and Rey raise an eyebrow in unison, seemingly used to this behavior.
Rose giggles, “I invited Poe!”
You instantly feel your heart rate pick up and a gentle heat rise in your cheeks, but it seems your the only one excited about this development. Rey only sighs with an unamused laugh. Rolling his eyes, Finn shakes his head, “That’s not exactly a surprise.” He turns to you. “She invites him out every time. And every time he says no. ‘Too busy.’”
“He never just relaxes,” Rey chimes in. “We’re constantly inviting him out, even inviting ourselves into the shop occasionally, but he’s just so dedicated to his work. It’d be admirable if it wasn’t so annoying.”
“Yeah yeah yeah,” Rose waves her hands around, as if attempting to dispel the negative comments in the air before they reach you. “BUT… I told him a certain special someone was gonna be here!”
Finn and Rey both turn to you, Rey holding an expression of curiosity and Finn looking at you with new eyes, the gears turning almost visibly in his head. Did she mean you? Everyone seems to be looking at you expectantly so… she must be. Sure, Poe seems to like you well enough but… This is behavior that seems to have been going on for years. How could your presence possibly change that?
“Wh- Me?” You ask, turning to Rose at a sudden loss for words. “Why- What makes me special?”
Rose rolls her eyes so hard her head can’t help but follow. “You are so oblivious. And so special.”
Finn nods, with a grin you can only describe as ‘shit-eating.’
“Of course.” He bites his lip deviously. “This is gonna be so fun.”
“Really wha-”
You’re cut off by the sound of the blowing snow and wind as the door creaks open behind you. As if on cue, each of your heads swivel to the entrance to see the door swinging shut behind Poe shaking the snowflakes out of his hair, cheeks ruddy from the outside cold. He looks up from tugging his gloves off to see the four of you gawking at him. If he can tell he just walked in on a discussion of himself, he doesn’t show it. He practically beams at the four of you, but lets his eyes settle on yours.
“Hey guys.”
“This is gonna be so fun,” You hear Finn whisper behind you.
You fail miserably at trying to hide your smile, but you know it’s for the best.
______________
“God, I know it’s embarrassing but... that’s so funny.” Rey chuckles with red cheeks, thoroughly amused.
“But it’s so embarrassing,” You exclaim, a little louder than you’re usually comfortable with but the drinks you’ve been slowly consuming for the past two hours have loosened your tongue just a bit.
Finn continues to shake his head in laughter. “I do love your mom, though. I wanna thank her for that one. A proper Base welcome.”
“C’mon, it really wasn’t so bad,” Poe laughs.
Once he’d arrived, everyone made quick work of getting him a drink and dragging over a stool, planting him firmly and snuggly between you and Rose. Small pleasantries and catching up eventually turned into you and Poe recounting the previous night's dinner and conversation at the strong behest of the rest of the group. It mostly consisted of you complaining and apologizing to Poe and him simply laughing it off, attempting to placate your worries. Finn, Rey, and Rose simply watched in entertainment, soaking up every juicy detail.
“Really, you have to stop beating yourself up about it. You’ll drive yourself insane.” Poe places a hand on your shoulder, sending a little shiver of electricity through your body that you desperately try to curb. You look down at his hand on your shoulder and are struck with the desire to see it as often as possible. Meeting his eyes, they are warm and kind and cause you to immediately lose whatever it was you were going to just say. You are now very aware of just how buzzed you are.
“I’ll… I’ll try.” You give him a small smile and he accepts it readily, his own smile growing. Over your shoulder, Finn must catch his eye because he swiftly turns his head back to his drink on the table and clears his throat. His hand gives you a small pat and quickly retreats back to his lap. His hand makes a loose fist and you miss its warmth.
“Well,” Rose starts. “It’s getting late and I am so beat. I should get going.”
Rose gives a meaningful glance at Finn and Rey, “Isn’t it a school night? You guys should get going too. Don’t want to have to show a video tomorrow.”
Finn’s eyes widen a bit and Rey nods fervently.
“Yes, absolutely. You’re so right, Rose.” Finn begins standing up from his stool. “C’mon, Rey, we should be off.”
Those fucking conspirators. You know you should be grateful - they’re trying very hard to set you up with your high school crush - but all you can feel is panic. You’re an expert at talking to people, from brokering deals to conducting yourself in interviews and even giving presentations, you’ve trained and practiced in the art of discussion. But for some reason, just being in the same room as Poe makes your brain short circuit. Your mind constantly pulls back and forth whether to close off and shut him out or loosen up and actually let him in. It’s barely been three days but it feels like so much longer. And that’s terrifying.
“Uh-Wh- Are you guys okay to drive?” You sputter.
Finn sends you a reassuring smile as he grabs Rey by the shoulders, “Rey might not be in any state to drive, but I’m totally fine. I’ve had maybe two drinks in the past couple hours. Don’t worry.”
Rose is off her stool too, gathering her coat. “Could you maybe drop me off too? I’d just walk but it’s so damn cold.”
“No problem, Rose.”
“What about me? I’m supposed to walk then?” You interject, flustered. “Rose, you drove me here.”
Rose gives an exaggerated look of cluelessness, giving you a shrug before looking over at Poe.
Breaking his momentary silence, Poe gives you a nod. “Yeah, I can give you a ride if you want.”
You can only nod along. “Yeah, that sounds good. Thank you.”
Rose lets out a little squeal, scrambling over to give you a kiss on the cheek and skip out the door, calling out goodbyes over her shoulder. You can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh along with Finn and Rey, both of them giving you and Poe sidehugs before taking their exit as well.
As the doors swing shut and the silence between you settles, you glance around at the bar. There are about half as many people as there were a few hours ago but the place doesn’t feel empty by any means. The few patrons still mill about, some playing pool, some chatting at the bar. You sigh contently at the sight, something Poe catches as he watches you.
“Good to be home?”
You look over, momentarily studying his handsome features in the warm lights as you try to figure out how to answer his question.
“I don’t know. Like I said before, it’s not really home. And yet it is.”
He nods, thinking for a second. “But are you happy to be here?”
You eye him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m starting to be.”
“Well, I’ll drink to that.” He grins, holding up his bottle. You meet his with your own, both taking a swig with a smile.
As you settle your drinks back on the table, Poe leans over with a lowered voice. Your pulse thrums in your veins. “You know, I actually had a great time last night, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
You sigh with chagrin, momentarily closing your eyes to rub at the spot between your brows.
“Well, I’m glad you had so much fun at my expense.”
Poe leans away, shutting his eyes in his own embarrassment.
“That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry.”
You chuckle lightly, a sound that gets Poe to open one eye before breaking into a smile, laughing with you. He leans in again, still smiling but a serious tone overtakes him.
“I really understand if you don’t want to talk about it but… What was your mother talking about… with Ben?”
You feel like a bucket of water has been dumped on you, ruining the easy-going mood you’d let slowly wash over you for the past few hours, but when you look at him, you can’t help but want to tell him everything.
“I just… I’ve only heard bits and pieces about what happened after you graduated. You really… disappeared.”
“Not disappeared,” you say quietly, with grit in your voice. “They just started paying attention to me somewhere else.”
“I paid attention to you,” Poe murmurs. When you catch his eye, he corrects himself. “I mean, we all did.”
You smile sadly, “Yeah, this is different.”
Poe gently knocks your shoulder with his, making you let out a snicker. Glancing over, Poe levels you with a genuine look, with soft eyes and a smile. “I get the feeling you don’t talk about your life often. So, tell me about it.”
He’s right. You never talk about your life, you certainly never regale your story to whoever asks. Doing that requires you to be vulnerable, it requires self-reflection and introspection. It requires you to think about things that you’ve long locked away inside. But…
“Well, I’m not sure how well you remember, or if you ever noticed but… no one ever really talked to me. Then one day, Ben did. No one ever really talked to him either, so we made a fast pair. He was odd... but he was a real friend to me. I wouldn’t have traded that for anything.”
Poe nods understandably, encouraging you to keep going.
“We decided to stick together. We got into Imperial University together and got out as quickly as we could. Neither of us… We couldn’t stay here, not with what we planned on doing with our lives. This town… it just wasn’t for us.”
“Yeah, I hear that a lot. I get that, too.” Poe takes a drink.
“You do?”
He laughs softly. “Yeah, but that’s a story for another time. Keep going.”
“We learned at school that we worked really well together. Our mentor Snoke realized that, too. He led us, taught us, molded us. He helped us build our company, First Order Tech. He was our first investor, he still sits on the board of directors. Kylo… Ben may be the CEO, but Snoke is still in charge of both of us to this day. It’s our company, we created it from the ground up but… We still bow to him.”
You shake your head. Time for the hard part. Might as well get it out quick and easy.
“Somewhere along the way… I don’t know if it was love. It wasn’t love how it should be - I can tell you that. But, Ben and I… were together. And then he proposed. I don’t think it was because he wanted to. I think he just thought… he was supposed to. Just the natural progression of our lives, I guess.”
You don’t realize you’re crying until the teardrops reach your chin, where they hang heavily before dropping onto your lap. You quickly wipe them away, as Poe once again places a hand on your back, but this time it stays there, his thumb rubbing comfortably back and forth.
“You don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”
“I just,” You sniffle, wiping your nose. Way to break down just as he was warming up to you, kiddo. “I’ve never talked about this before, not really. I don’t even think I’ve ever cried over this before.”
“Anyway, I somehow became lucid enough to call it off a few months before the wedding.”
You sniff wetly and press the backs of your hands to your eyes, your makeup no doubt ruined by now. Poe’s thumb keeps its motion.
“I just wanted it so bad,” Your voice cracks. The lump that had been caught in your throat breaks free in the form of a sob. “I let myself be blind because I…”
Your hands are shaking and tears run freely down your face.
“I wanted to be loved. And I thought that’s how I would get it. But I woke up.”
You drop your hands onto the table, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You clench your fists and your voice no longer trembles.
“And I’m glad I did. We’re both better people for it.”
Only now do you chance a look at Poe. You had kept your gaze down, too scared to find what his expression might be, too scared to read his thoughts on his face. But his hand had stayed planted, comforting you. That had to mean something, right?
Looking up, you see only his warm gaze that had assured you deeply enough to get you talking in the first place. It carries a sadness, a kind of worry in the crease between his slightly upturned brows. But you find no disgust. No pity.
“I wish I knew what to say.”
You chuckle wetly, “You don’t have to say anything. I understand that it’s a lot.”
His hand makes a broad stroke across your back as he leans in once again.
“There’s actually a lot of things I want to say, but I’m sure you’d hate all of them considering they all sound like condescending things your mom has probably said to you over the years.”
A genuine laugh bubbles out of you at this, a bright smile pulling up your wet mascara stained cheeks. Seeing this, Poe can’t help a smile of his own.
“Things like ‘you’re so brave’ and ‘you poor thing’?” You giggle.
He chuckles, “Yeah something like that, the usuals.”
“Well thank you for sparing me.”
“No problem.” He pauses for a moment. “But really, thank you for telling me.”
He sounds like he means it.
“Thank you for listening, Poe.”
And so do you.
You sit like that just for a moment, gazing at each other. You take in the small details, admiring the creases around his eyes, the shape of his jaw, the curls in his hair. He seems to be taking you in as well, his eyes flickering across your features. You see them linger on the stains of your cheeks, turning your head away subconsciously.
“Ready to go?” He asks softly.
You smile and nod, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”
You wobble just a bit as you get up from your seat, but Poe’s hand is still there to steady you. It stays there as you walk to the door. Stepping out into the cold, you instinctively huddle against him, a move he readily accepts as you walk.
“I’m not always a sad drunk, I promise.”
You feel the rumble of his chest as he laughs gently at your small joke.
“Don’t worry. I believe you.”
The ride is comfortably silent, except for the low hum of the radio as you drive. Pulling up to your house, you want to say something, do something, to thank him for what he did tonight. For driving you home, for listening to you and comforting you as you practically sobbed in his arms, for coming to the bar at all, supposedly just because you were there.
But you don’t do anything.
“I’ll see you around,” is all you say.
You hear him swallow as he nods. “Yeah, I’ll… I’ll see you.”
When you finally slink upstairs and collapse in your bed, you still feel the phantom touch of Poe’s hand across your back.
-
notes: Whew! Thank you SO much for reading and thanks to all the people who stuck around! It’s been such a long and hard year and I hope everyone is doing okay. I’m determined to make this year great and I hope you all will join me!
I understand it’s been forever so if you’re on the taglist and would like to taken off it, hit me up and I’ll totally understand - and if you’re not on the taglist and would like to be leave a reply or send me a message! love you all <3
taglist: @ikbenplant @jamesdeerest @fortheloveoflamp @operation-spot @asianravenpuff @whovianayesha @ultrunning @nowheredreamer @honestlyjustwow @badwolf-212 (for some reason i can never tag you properly :( )
(A 3AM Short Story) - (SHORT 1/2) - The Dark Knight
A/N: Hi guys, I have a lot of drafts I've been editing inside the draft folder of my Tumblr page. Sorry that I have not published them, I'm aware I make a lot of grammar mistakes, therefore, just I want them to be written properly, for it to have a strong narrative voice and can be easily understood.
Nonetheless, here is one of them...
Let me add, I'm actually busy updating my other stories, so do standby for that!
Cast -
'Q' is an Original Character
'K' / Kieran Sorensen - Mads Mikkelsen
WARNING: SEXUAL TENSIONS.... you need cold water!
The Dark Knight
Even before Q was known as 'Q', she was first a trainee under 'K' or Kieran, her commanding officer. However, she didn't expect to work beside him after finishing her training and working for the MI6. Neither did she expect that he was preparing her to take over once he steps down. That he wanted her to succeed him.
It all started when she entered the training programme. He had interviewed her for the first time, whilst holding on to the piece of paper which contained information about her background.
A woman who spent her primary education in Dragon School, and a secondary education at top international school in Shanghai, before graduating tertiary in Cambridge. With these, she could've been considered a 'strong candidate'.
"Privileged..." was his reply, upon reading everything. He clearly wasn't impressed. "You're probably very intelligent, but do you have grit?"
She gulped nervously and was thankful enough that she didn't write anything about her grandfather being an admiral or her father being an officer.
She remembered what he had told her clearly the first time, which is why it was a surprise to her that he considered her as a 'successor'.
Her job was something classified, she was not a field agent, but her duty was akin to that of a chess player, a tactician, a strategist and her chess pieces, were the agents under her command. And the playground was the operations she led and handled. And after a long time, she became good at it.
Throughout the years, she slowly got the hang of it, and finally earned the respect of her colleagues and superiors, specially Keiron, who had eventually become fond of her.
Everything was fine until she received a piece of devastating news.
Q's mother had committed suicide and her sister had a breakdown. At first, she couldn’t believe it. She knew her mother would never do such a thing! Didn’t she just remarry a good man who also happens to be wealthy? and had told her that she is in love with her new husband? That didn’t sound like the jovial mother she had often talked to over the phone. But as the details and truth began to resurface, everything became clearer...
As Q dug deeper for the truth, receiving the suicide note, her mother’s diary, the Private Investigator’s report and her sister’s story, one thing became clear; the cause of her family’s ruin was her mother’s new husband; Vincenzo Rosello.
Much to the family’s dismay, the truth was something painful to learn. Q broke down and cried. She considered dropping everything, just to get to her sister.
Her sister Helene, according to the report given to her by the investigator, was locked up in a private mental institution/ rehab in Mallorca and was given medication that had kept her mind blank every day.
Her grandfather and father were willing to do anything to get Helene rescued. But Q knew that if both her grandfather and father made a move, it will cause a diplomatic problem for the country. It was enough pretext for them that they should not intervene or try anything. Besides, the fact that the information was classified and Vincenzo Rosello was no ordinary man, makes it no easy task for her grandfather and father who holds high positions in the government, compared to her, a 'small fly'. So Q talked her family out of it and took it upon herself to rescue her sister, whatever it took.
At first, Q leaks the story to BBC News and CNN through an agent contact in Madrid, believing that public sympathy and pressure would force the country to intervene. However, Kieron Sorensen had done something, causing the networks to retract the news as a hoax.
Q was angry of course, upon learning of what happened. But she couldn't show it, and couldn't let anyone know that it was her who had leaked the information.
She didn't know what was coming for her until Kieron summoned her to his office.
"Ah, Q, please take a seat," Kieron offers, as she closes the door behind her. She had a feeling he might try to pry something out of her, but whatever it was, she decided that she will not admit to anything.
"What did you call me for?"
"Straightforward as always! Well, do you remember the painting at the museum that we saw?" he starts.
She scratches her head and thought how random the question was. "Which painting?"
"In front of the painting where I first handed you your badge," he said.
She suddenly remembered the event years ago, when he had welcomed her officially to the agency, by giving her a gun and badge inside a box, at a gallery, right in front of a painting. It looked more like a transaction between two people instead of a 'welcome' due to its secret, unnoticeable nature.
"Yes... what about it?"
"What was the painting again?" he asked.
"A knight and a lady," was her answer.
"A yes! 'A knight and his lady'! remember what I told you that time?"
"That there is no knight in shining armour to the rescue, that you are your own knight..." she casually mentions.
"And?" asking her to continue.
"That we should not aspire to be white knight, but a 'dark knights'" she rolls her eyes, thinking that this was a waste of time. "If there is anything else, I would like to go. I have a lot more paperwork to do,"
Kieron smiled " I am glad you remember, what is this then?" he pushes a paper towards her, containing the report that was leaked to the networks.
" I do not know what is this about?" she feigns ignorance.
His handsome face twists into a cynical smile. "Oh Q, isn't that your sister in the news?"
"Yes, I can see that, but we have been estranged ever since our parents divorced..." she lied. In fact, she almost communicated with them every day.
"I see..." Kieron folds his hands and takes a long hard look at her, which made her uncomfortable, but she was not going to give anything away. "I just want to remind you not to play the 'Dark Knight' in this situation. I'm not saying it was you who did this but consider the position your family would be in."
"Is that a threat, Director?" she clenched her teeth.
"No, it's a warning..." was his response, followed by a handsome smile, that she had so wanted to punch.
"Duly noted..." was her resigned response.
"I'm glad you understand, we have to always choose and preserve the greater good..."
"Greater good? so you want me to abandon my sister?" her voice was strained, as anger began to rise within her.
"I never said that... What I'm saying is, incidents like this can be considered as something against the agency and the government "
"I am aware of that and don't need you to remind me..." was her curt reply.
"I will not tolerate insubordination, and I will not back you up or rescue you if you continue this," he adds.
"I did not break any rules..." was her firm response, bent on not admitting anything.
" If that is so, you are to take a two-week compassionate leave,"
"I don't need it, I have a lot of work to do," she says, brushing it off.
"It's not a request, it's an order..." was his stern reply. "You're not into step into the office within those two weeks,"
"You can't do that?! I have a lot of work to do, and people who depend on me," she insists. She knew the moment she leaves the office, she will be unable to access some resources needed to rescue her sister.
"That's all taken care of," he said nonchalantly.
She felt her plans fall apart. It was obvious why Kieron was doing this. And that is to prevent her from taking any action, and this made her extremely frustrated.
" You have 2 days to finish whatever you can. After that, surrender your access card and gun before you go..." he adds, which finally broke the camel's back.
In a fit of anger, Q bolts out of her seat and attacks Kieran, pulling his arm forward, and punches his face the moment she had close the distance, which caught him off guard.
But a seasoned combatant like Kieron had recovered quickly and caught her body, swung her into his back and slammed her hard on the table.
Q, flinched in pain, but was not one to give up, countered his attack by trying to lock his arm, forcing him into submission. However, he was able to free himself from it and back throws her, causing her to land on the nearby couch with a loud thud.
But before she could even recover, Kieron had already gone on top of her and held both her wrist above her head, pinning her down the couch in a compromising position.
He leans close to her face and whispers to her ears, "You do that again, I will not be as merciful..."
She felt goosebumps on her neck with what he did. It was no mistake, she was turned on. It was also not a big help that Kieron is a handsome man. She did not want to look at him in the eye, or the feelings that she had withheld inside her, for him, all these years, might just spill...
He drags her back up and buttons the top part of her shirt, which she had not noticed was open. Some of the buttons were gone due to the physical altercation that had happened between them earlier. Her face felt warm as she looked away, as the gesture felt sensual and intimate. A significant other is supposed to do these things, not your boss! And certainly not after a fight!
He stilled her and gently tilted her chin to meet up his gaze. For a moment she was lost in his citrine eyes.
"Don't cause trouble, I would hate to lose you..." he whispered, and it felt more of a warning. "Go..." he turns around and walks back to his table, waving her off.
"Damn him..." she muttered under her breath as she went back to her small office. She had only two days to do her work, in addition to getting whatever resources she needs to rescue her sister. If Kieron thought this setback will discourage her, then he is wrong.
**********
After two days of work, the moment she had reached home, she had finally decided to go off-grid. She knew the moment she had left the agency, Kieron would've probably put her under watch list.
Pushing a heavy bookshelf on the side, the self glided easily despite its weight, revealing a small secret room with a vault inside her apartment. On one part of the shelf, was two fake passports and identity cards she had procured over the years, on one part was a thick clipping of the currency 'Euros'. She takes them and throws packs into her bag, before coming back for the vault, and taking another handphone.
She leaves her handphone on the bedside table and didn't plan on taking it with her to Spain. Kieron surely would use it to track her and she couldn't risk anyone knowing her plans and ruin them.
But before leaving, she messages her father;
'Perseus is coming for Andromeda'
**********
Mallorca, Spain
Q was not surprised that it was raining hard the moment she arrived at Mallorca. It was after one of their coldest seasons.
She wasted no time and immediately embraced her new identity, Geórgia Santos, a woman from Terrassa who will work as the cleaner at the psychiatric hospital where her sister, Helene is confined.
She eventually took on her role well, and immediately gained the respect of the medical staff within a few days of working as a cleaner. She even gained information who are some of the patients, through gossip with the nurses.
By the end of the week, she learned that the forbidden room she wasn't allowed to enter was the same room Helene is solely confined in. Not only because it was guarded. Moreover, thrice a week, a man comes to visit the room and stays there for almost a whole day, and he would ask the staff about his 'prisoner' in the room.
Upon learning the whole truth, she had sneaked in one night into her sister's room and found her in a state any family member would not like to see. Her informer was right, Helene was kept mentally blank every day. She had eventually bribed the nurse and the doctor assigned in Helene's room for information and their silence. According to the nurse she had bribed for information, the ‘stepfather’ would often visit Helene and stay at her quarters for a ‘very long time'.
Flabbergasted, Q calls out the nurse for not doing anything. But the nurse reasons that the ‘stepfather’ is a powerful man and they themselves were afraid to go against him. When she made it known that she wanted to take Helene from the institution and bring her back to England, the nurse and the doctor, though feeling guilty, advised her not to, as Vicenzo Rosello will not allow it. It will put the whole staff in jeopardy.
When she promised a way out, and a way to cripple Vicenzo, so that he would not misdirect his anger. Both of them immediately agreed and cooperated.
"Saint George, has seen the dragon" she sends another cryptic message to her father. What it actually meant is that she had seen Vicenzo.
The messaging window indicated 'typing' for a long time. She knew her father was holding back the anger, he was surely thinking of giving an order to kill. But no, he seems to have thought it through.
"Saint George should not slay the dragon," was his response followed by "Yet...".
Q chuckled upon receiving the message. Oh, the many ways they plan to hurt Vicenzo. After all, killing him immediately is an easy way out. They should torment him every chance they get, after what happened to her mother and Helene.
Unbeknownst to the agency, within her two last days before her compassionate leave. She had forged a directive signed by the agency's head to begin "Operation Persues" a rescue mission that is spearheaded by the SAS that she had developed within a short amount of time as 'Plan B" for her own attempt to rescue her sister.
On the night of the extraction, the moment the power was cut, Q hurriedly rushed to the floor where her sister was confined. The guards were out so she was able to easily enter her room.
When she entered Helene's room, she found her sleeping soundly in the dark, much to her relief. She checks her watch to see how much time she has. She could carry her sister to the nearby coastline herself where a boat is supposedly waiting for them, or wait for the soldiers she assigned to guide them there.
Her plan was to get Helene to Madrid and have her transported via car (as she was not mentally stable) to the south of France where their grandfather was waiting for them.
She felt her hands grow cold, as the clock ticks. The guards will be back any time now, and she has no gun to neutralize them if it comes into an altercation.
Suddenly, there was a sharp sound of a suppressor, followed by a loud thud on the floor. There was a knock on the door before it opened to reveal an imposing figure standing in the door frame, dressed in black night ops camouflage, with a large rifle. A normal person would probably be scared if they see him. After all, he looked like the stuff of 'nightmares' specially with his face covered, and his eyes were night-vision lenses that made him look like a multi-eyed monster.
"She's not stable," she whispers to the man. " I'm afraid of her waking up, and causing a commotion. "
The man nodded in understanding, before signalling another soldier outside of the room to come in.
The other soldier takes out a syringe containing a sedative to calm Helene down, in case she wakes up. In any other situation, Q would be fine, doing it to the target. She had carried out a lot of operation that needed this course of action. But now that they're doing it to her sister, she felt a little conflicted.
Another soldier enters the room and carries Helene out carefully. The first soldier, who first entered the room pulls out a gun from one of his armour's holsters and hands it to her.
"Thank you," she says softly, glad that he was considerate enough to give her a weapon to defend herself.
In a few minutes time, the power will come back, they needed to get to the nearby coastline by foot, as the sound of the car can attract attention this late at night, at a quiet place like this.
The smell of the incoming rain was obvious to her, the moment they stepped out of the hospital, they needed to get to the boat before the rain falls. There were 5 soldiers, and the boat can only carry 5 people, which meant two should stay ashore, and leave in another way.
"I will see you at Bordeaux, give her to the Admiral as instructed..." she says, referring to her grandfather, as she instructs the soldiers and they respond with a nod. She trusted them enough to carry their duty. Moreover, it wasn't the first time working with the SAS.
She watched as the boat left the shore, and turned away once she can no longer see them in the distance.
Turning her attention back to the soldier who stayed behind with her, she realized that it was the same person who first entered the room earlier and passed her a gun. Though she could not see his face like the rest of them, it was his aura that separates him from his team. He seemed like a very seasoned soldier and she wouldn't be surprised if he was, as her guest and observations were often right.
"Thank you for staying behind, I do not know if you have a plan B, but I'll take care of us here, from now on. And we'll be back in London before you know it!" she tries to convince him, but he did not respond and just stared at her. She sighed in resignation and asks him to follow her, as the rain began to fall.
Not far from the hospital was a small cabin she had rented as her temporary quarters.
"Come in..." She opens the door and holds it open for him.
The moment they entered the house, he was met with countless papers, photographs, stuck on a corkboard, and a few, small spy tech, including a laptop. The rest, was just a small kitchen, a small fireplace, bathroom, a queen-size bed, and a small couch, nothing more, nothing less. The small house looked like an operational briefing room, instead of living quarters.
"I'm sorry about the mess, I'll burn them once we leave, go make yourself at home. You must be tired so you can take my bed and I won't mind it, I'll sleep on the couch" she uttered mindlessly, as she started packing some of the equipment for more space. "Besides, I need to forge a few papers here and there to get us out of here, I'll buy you new clothes tomorrow too," she adds, turning towards him, still without a response.
"So, uhh... I don't plan on seeing you in the raw, so... just cover yourself up with a blanket" she sighed, though she meant well, not wanting him to stay in his damp clothes, she felt sorry for the guy. He probably thinks she's a weird pervert now for saying that carelessly. "Sorry, I came unprepared for this part. I didn't know it will rain..." she reasons.
The man finally sits down on the couch and makes himself comfortable, and began slowly dismantling his rifle.
She heaved another sigh, before remembering the gun he has handed her earlier on. "Ah yes, I almost forgot, here's your gun, I-" she paused for a moment and disarmed it, removing the silencer and the bullets and then she felt a certain texture on one side of the gun and saw an engraved quote;
'This is a tool, I am the weapon'
There was no mistake, this was her gun that the agency confiscated before she left for her 2 weeks leave. How did a special ops soldier end up having it?
She looked at him confused. "H-How did you?"
The man's answer was silence and then he took off his night visions goggles and his mask, only to reveal Kieran, underneath the camo.
"Shit..." she muttered under her breath, as alarms started ringing inside her head. This operation was unsanctioned, to begin with, and the only way she was able to carry it was by using her and her father's money, forging signatures for approval and unprofessionally using the companies resources to carry out the rest, which she knew she had distorted the evidence so that they will not find out.
"How... how did you-?" she was lost for words.
"You made a small blunder... that's how I found out..." he says sternly, as he slowly approached her, his expression was cold. She knew what was coming. He was going to kill her in cold blood. It didn't matter if she was his prodigy and that they've been colleagues for a decade, or that he was fond of her. Kieran was first and always a cold-blooded assassin/operative, even before he became the division head. She heard the stories, and she witnessed how cold and cruel he could be. Nor does he take betrayal well. And this unsanctioned operation is considered betrayal in the agency's eyes, and his. And what happens when one commits 'insubordination? if lucky they can get away with getting court-martialed if not, they are 'neutralized'.
Unfortunately, she will be getting the latter.
But she didn't want to die. She wanted to reunite with her family, to finally be there for Helene, after years apart. To finally mourn her mother properly. She didn't want her family to have another person to mourn for. She wants to live, and she will fight to live.
Wasting no time, she throws the gun at his face, as she didn't have enough time to re-assemble everything.
"Fuck..." Kieran cursed under his breath when the heavy metal hits his chests and was followed by the silencer before she made a run for it outside.
*****
The backwoods was dark, and she almost tumbled down, running. Especially now that it rained heavily, the place was slippery. This setback was certainly something she didn't expect. She needed to gather her thoughts and think of a plan C. She did remember that she had kept backup 'necessities' in a locker at the port. She just needed to get there safely and get Kieron off her trail.
However, before she could make her next move. A pair of strong arms wrap around her waist, swung her to his shoulders, and then throws her back down into the ground.
"That's for earlier..." Kieran mentions as he circled around her.
"This is not fair, I thought you were a gentleman!" she says, in spite of the situation.
"I am... I haven't injured you yet, haven't I?" was his playful remark. "Get up!"
She struggled to get up and glared at him. " You think this is a game?"
"And you thought I wasn't serious when I warned you? Remember, every action has a consequence and this is yours..."
She finally gets up and rushes forward to attack him. He immediately blocks her fist, but she kicks his knees, breaking his stance.
He quickly recovers and prepares for an attack, but she had jumped at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and using the force of her momentum to throw him back down to the ground. She quickly grabs his back leg and twists it.
Quickly wrapping her legs around his, she cranks it the wrong way, pulling it forward, hyperextending it, in an attempt to dislocate and cripple him.
He screams in pain, as she put him into a kneebar submission. However, he quickly counters her move by kicking the back of her knee with his free leg and freeing his other leg out in the process.
Unable to continue the kneebar, Kieron immediately grapples with her once he was free. But she was too quick and got away quickly.
"Not bad..." he laughs.
She tried to catch her breath and glared back at him. She rather escapes than prolong this fight. Fighting against a veteran like Kieron is futile. However, before she could make a run for it, he moves forwards and quickly strikes her in the gut, causing her to lose air and then consciousness.
**********
It was 4 am according to her clock when she gained consciousness once again and found herself with her arms tied up to the bedpost.
The only thing that serves light in the room was the small fireplace, and Kieron was in front of it smoking a cigarette, with nothing but a blanket on, wrapped around his waist.
If this was any other situation, this was a wet dream come true. She had always been curious about the body underneath those sharp custom made, Saville-Row suits and smart apparel he wore to work. He was like those silver fox models that were displayed in GQ and not once did she see him undone and raw like this. Heck, he looked good even when doing violent interrogations.
His body was muscularly lean and well-toned, with scars here and there. In short words, he's damn hot.
She sighs and takes in the sight before her. It was probably the last thing she would see and remember him for before he ends her life.
"Like what you see?" he teased.
"Put a shirt on... you're ugly..." was her rude response.
He laughs out loud and stares at her.
"Just kill me..." she pleads. She was not willing to go through torture and interrogation, and she knew that was coming next.
He gets up and seats down on the side of the bed. "But I'm not done with you yet...." he whispers.
" We can be done in a minute, I will tell you everything. I admit to it. I forged all your signatures for approval, used the agencies resources to gather information and used my own savings to fund this operation. That is all... now... do what you have to do..." she says in resignation. "And do it quick, I don't want it to be painful" she adds.
He takes out a knife and she closes her eyes shut, preparing for what's next. However, to her surprise, Kieran cuts of the rope binding her arms instead, before walking away and sitting back down in front of the fireplace.
"Kieron..." she calls his name whilst rubbing the lacerations on her wrist.
"You're a fool, you know?... I've advised you many times to not do this..."
"The agency will..." she began but he quickly cut her off.
"They're not aware, I've cleaned it up for you..." was his simple response.
"Why-why? you said...-"
"I'm not that heartless that you and others make me out to be..." he says nonchalantly, waving it off. "You're not trained as a covert agent... do you know how worried I was when I found out?"
"Who are you to care? we're nothing but colleagues and your nothing but the heartless department director who wants results! I am well aware that I am just your pawn!" She shook her head. Kieron Sorenson was too cold to even care. " Please save me the pretence..."
He glares back at her and gets back up to approach her. Closing in the distance like a predatory animal and she was his prey.
"Kieron... I-" before she could say anything, he crushed his mouth against hers and much to his surprise, she did not protest or struggle and welcomed it wholeheartedly. Returning the kiss with equal intensity.
He tried in vain to slow down and pull away for them to catch their breath. Only to find her looking back at him with longing eyes.
"Since when?" she asked. Of course, she was confused by this sudden 'confession'. She may admit that she does have a secret crush on the cold-blooded director. But not once did she expect that he had affection for her too.
"The museum..." he whispers huskily, referring to the time he had welcomed her to the agency. She looked so beautiful that day, her head held high, upon proving how wrong he was about her, as she sat beside him in front of the painting. " I wanted to kiss that witty mouth of yours... but that's just unprofessional..."
"You're being unprofessional now..." she remarks.
"I don't give a damn..." he says and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.
A/N: I think I might have made some grammatical errors. So I'd do soft editing. I'll write Part 2 (SMUT!!!) next after this.
you should forcefem mikey way. it would be so silly and goofy if we forcefemmed mikey way together. preferably current era but any era works. I think it would be really cool and neat if you wrote mikey way forcefem please :3
obviously only if you want, im bein silly
Moment of Truth
a/n: hello hello! anon this is delicious and i'm obsessed with this idea. i love love love love forcefem. i will say though i really was not feeling a reader insert for this one so have some RIKEY. yayyyyyyyy
Ray had imagined this moment so many times that when it finally happened, it almost didn’t feel real.
The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. The bag sat on the coffee table between them like something dangerous neither of them had decided to touch yet.
Mikey now knew what was in it. He hadn’t said anything for a while.
He sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees, staring down at the carpet while the skirt and bra rested beside the bag like silent evidence of Ray’s strange, embarrassing secret.
“You’re serious about this,” Mikey muttered finally.
Ray didn’t answer right away. His fingers were laced together so tightly that his knuckles had gone pale.
“...Yeah.”
“That’s... Really not in my comfort zone, Ray.”
Ray let out a small breath. “I know.”
But, he didn’t say that he was sorry.
Mikey glanced at the clothes again. “You think I’d look good in this?”
Ray’s throat tightened. He forced himself to nod.
Mikey shook his head, laughing under his breath in disbelief.
“You’re unbelievable.” But, he didn’t push the clothes away. A tiny detail that made Ray’s pulse start racing.
A quiet silence settled over the room again.
Finally, Mikey sighed heavily and stood up, grabbing the skirt and bra in one awkward motion.
“If I do this,” he said without looking at Ray, “you don’t get to make fun of me.”
Ray sat up straighter immediately.
“I wouldn’t.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.”
Mikey pointed at him. “And you’re not allowed to stare like a creep either.”
Ray didn’t answer that one.
Mikey squinted suspiciously.
“…Ray.”
“I’ll behave,” Ray said quickly.
Mikey didn’t believe him, yet he walked toward the bedroom anyway.
The door shut behind him. Ray sat perfectly still. His heartbeat had become painfully loud in his ears.
He dragged a hand over his face, exhaling slowly. What the fuck was wrong with him?
He had felt embarrassed when he bought the clothes, and even more embarrassed when Mikey found them. But now that Mikey was actually changing, something darker and more electric had taken over that embarrassment. His mind kept replaying the image he’d imagined a hundred times.
Soft fabric.
Bare thighs.
Mikey blushing.
The bedroom door opened, and Ray looked up instantly. And everything in his chest seized.
Mikey stood in the doorway, frozen.
The skirt rested low on his hips, the black cotton brushing the tops of his thighs when he shifted his weight nervously. The bra straps sat slightly crooked on his shoulders, clearly not designed for his frame.
His arms were crossed tightly over his chest. His face was bright red. He refused to look up.
Ray’s pupils blew wide immediately. The sight of him hit like a punch straight to his lungs.
For a moment, Ray didn’t breathe. He just stared.
Mikey noticed right away.
“Don’t,” he muttered.
Ray stood slowly. His eyes never left him. Taking in every detail.
The way Mikey’s knees pressed together slightly. The way he kept tugging the skirt down, even though it wouldn’t move. The way his shoulders curled inward like he wanted to fold himself smaller.
Mikey shifted under the weight of that stare.
“Ray, stop looking at me like that.”
Ray took a step closer. Then another. He looked completely transfixed.
Mikey backed up instinctively until his shoulders touched the wall.
“Ray.”
Ray stopped inches away from him. Up close, he could see the tremble in Mikey’s breathing.
“You’re shaking,” Ray murmured.
“Because this is humiliating,” Mikey snapped quietly.
Ray lifted a hand slowly. Mikey flinched slightly.
But Ray only reached for the bra strap that had slipped halfway down his shoulder, sliding it gently back into place.
His fingers lingered there for a second longer than necessary.
“You look…” Ray began.
Mikey squeezed his eyes shut instantly.
“Don’t.”
Ray swallowed.
His voice dropped into something softer.
“…pretty.”
Mikey’s face burned hotter.
He tried to cross his arms tighter around himself, but Ray caught his wrist gently before he could.
“Don’t hide,” Ray murmured.
Mikey shook his head weakly. “I should be hiding.”
Ray tilted his head slightly, studying him with intense focus. Pupils blown wide, almost swallowing the color of his irises entirely.
“You’re so shy,” Ray said quietly.
Mikey’s breathing had slowed without him realizing it. Something strange was happening inside his chest.
The embarrassment was still there. Heavy and hot. But the way Ray was looking at him made everything feel distant and soft around the edges.
Ray noticed immediately.
“There you go,” he whispered.
Mikey blinked slowly, confused by the softness creeping into his thoughts.
Ray reached up and brushed Mikey’s hair back from his face. The gesture was careful. Gentle and almost reverent.
Mikey’s shoulders loosened slightly.
Ray inhaled sharply, completely captivated.
His thumb brushed lightly under Mikey’s eye. A tear had gathered there without Mikey noticing.
Mikey sniffed softly, embarrassed. “This is so stupid.”
Ray’s voice softened even more.
“Shhh.”
His thumb wiped the tear away.
“Shhh, shhh.”
Mikey looked up at him, finally. Ray’s expression had gone dreamy, almost dazed with fascination.
“You’re my pretty girl,” he whispered.
Mikey froze. The words should have snapped him out of the strange haze forming in his head.
Instead, he sank into it.
Ray hand cupped his cheek gently.
“Shhh, shhh,” he murmured again, voice low and soothing. “Don’t cry.”
Mikey’s breathing slowed further.
Ray brushed his thumb across Mikey’s cheek again.
“You’re my pretty girl,” he repeated softly.
Mikey’s face flushed deep red, but he didn’t pull away this time.
Ray watched the change happen in real time.
The tension in Mikey’s shoulders was easing. The nervous resistance faded into something quieter.
His pupils were widening even more. He looked utterly enthralled, like he’d just discovered something delicate and beautiful that he couldn’t stop staring at.
Ray leaned a little closer.
“See?” he whispered.
His voice was gentle, almost hypnotic now.
“You look perfect.”
Ray didn’t move away. If anything, something inside him seemed to snap. The careful distance he’d been holding vanished as if it had never existed.
His hand was still cupping Mikey’s cheek, thumb brushing under his eye, but now the touch lingered longer, warmer, like he couldn’t make himself stop.
“Shhh,” Ray murmured again, voice rougher now, breath uneven.
Mikey let out a trembling breath.
“I’m— this is so embarrassing,” he whispered, voice breaking.
But he didn’t step away. That was the thing that made Ray unravel completely.
Because Mikey was still right there.
Tears sliding down his face, cheeks burning red, the skirt barely brushing his thighs as he shifted his weight nervously. And he wasn’t leaving.
Ray’s pupils were huge. Dark. Completely blown wide. He looked almost lost in it.
“You’re okay,” Ray murmured, but the words sounded more like he was convincing himself than Mikey.
His other hand came up without hesitation now, settling firmly at Mikey’s waist. The fabric of the skirt bunched slightly under his fingers.
Mikey gasped softly at the contact. Ray inhaled sharply. The sound seemed to go straight through him.
“There you are,” he whispered, voice low.
His hand moved. Slow at first. Sliding along Mikey’s waist, feeling the shape of him through the thin fabric, but once he started, he didn’t seem capable of stopping.
His fingers traced the edge of the skirt.
Then his hand slid up Mikey’s side, across his ribs, like he was mapping every inch of him.
“You’re so—” Ray stopped himself, breath hitching.
His other hand had moved too now.
One thumb still brushing under Mikey’s eye, catching tears as they fell.
The other gripping lightly at his waist.
“You’re so pretty,” he finished, voice barely above a whisper.
Mikey was crying openly now, though the sound was quiet and breathy.
“I feel weird,” he murmured.
Ray barely seemed to register the words.
His attention was completely consumed by the way Mikey looked. Flushed, trembling, glassy-eyed, and standing there in the soft black fabric with tears sliding down his cheeks.
Ray’s hands moved again.
He smoothed Mikey’s hair back, fingers lingering in it for a moment before sliding down to his neck, his shoulder, the strap of the bra.
His breathing had gone uneven.
Like the sight of Mikey had completely taken him over.
“You’re floating,” Ray murmured, almost to himself.
Mikey sniffed softly.
“I think I am.”
Ray exhaled slowly, like the words sent a shiver through him.
His hands were everywhere now. Gentle but constant. Brushing Mikey’s arms, settling again at his waist, sliding up his sides like he needed to keep touching him to believe he was really there.
“You’re my pretty girl,” Ray whispered again.
Mikey’s head dipped slightly, tears still slipping down his cheeks.
Ray watched him as if he’d never seen anything more beautiful.
His hands pulled Mikey a little closer without thinking.
“Don’t cry.”
Mikey’s forehead nearly brushed Ray’s shoulder as he leaned forward slightly, breathing slowly and unsteadily.
Ray’s arms wrapped around him instinctively, one hand still tangled gently in his hair.
