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her-power · 4 months

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Last Chance to Dance (Part Three: Rockstar! e.m. x fem reader)

🚨🛑🔞18+++ MINORS DNI - YOU WILL BLOCKED🚨🛑🔞 TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING (For entire series): Rockstar! Addict! Sweet! Mean! Eddie, smut, unprotected p+v, fluff, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (m+f receiving), heavy drug use, descriptions of IV drug use, swearing, talks of anxiety, panic disorder, mental illness, talks of suicide

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Last Chance to Dance Part One Part Two

Summary: Full Summary on Part One

Word Count: 4.9k

I feel your hands on my waist before I open my eyes, your fingers trace a line down my abdomen, stopping above my pelvis. I let out a soft gasp and smile into the pillow. I feel your lips graze against my shoulder, leaving soft kisses. I feel you press your breasts against my back and your hand slinks down, grasping my length in your hand, gently fisting up and down. A soft moan escapes me, and your lips press against my neck. Your hands are soft, delicate and you pump me faster. I groan, turning my face to you, pressing my lips to yours. I turn on to my back, holding your face in my hand to deepen the kiss.

“Mmmm.” I moan against your lips. “What a way to wake up.”

You smile at me, pushing your body into mine. I hook your leg around my waist, kissing you deep. You continue to pump me with your hand while grinding against me; I can feel the wetness between your legs. I move myself on top of you; bringing your nipple into my mouth, squeezing your breasts and you moan softly. I grip your ass, kissing you deeply and I rub my hand against your clit and your opening. I groan loudly and push my cock inside you. You let out a gasp and I smile against your lips. It had been like this since yesterday; the snowstorm had finally let up this morning, but the plows had yet to come down the streets. I planned on shoveling out your car, but ever since we made love, we haven’t been able to stop. It was Christmas Eve, and I don’t think I’ve been sober for a holiday in ten years. I feel a small ache in my chest, and I pull away from your lips for a second to look at you. Your fingers curl through my hair, and I run my hand along your face, your jaw. I slowly rock my hips and your head falls back in pleasure; I continue to stare at you. How could this be real? How was it possible that fifteen years later we had found each other again? Over a letter? My eyes flutter close, and I bury my face in your shoulder, thrusting faster, you feel so good.

I remember us back then, how young we were, full of life. There was so much passion, even when we fought. It was always the little things we fought about, how you knew how to get under my skin, and I knew exactly what buttons to push. We had left Steve’s house after a house party. Well, you had left, because I was an asshole, and I had chased after you. It was pouring out. It was the middle of summer, but the rain was cold.

“Baby, come on! I’m sorry!” I chase after you, stumbling over my own feet because I’m a little drunk. You’re drunk too, but you know how to handle yourself because you are a fucking champ.

“You’re sorry.” You scoff, you’re picking up speed. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. You’re always fucking sorry!”

“Stop, stop, stop.” I’m able to catch up with you and stop in front of you. The rain soaks the both of us, your black dress stuck to your skin, I could tell you were shivering. “You’re shivering, come on. Let’s go home.”

“I’m not going home with you; I’d rather sleep outside.” You push past me, and I groan.

“You’re seriously making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Nothing?!” You turn towards me so fast it startles me, and I stumble backwards. “You told Steve that I’m a better fuck when I’m high!”

“Baby, I was kidding!” I say, trying not to laugh. “It was a stupid joke. I didn’t mean it, I meant to tell him when you’re high, you get wild. And the sex is great—"

“Oh, because that makes it better! Get away from me.” You scoff, shoving me away. “I know he’s our best friend, but it would be nice if you kept our sex life private, that shits embarrassing.”

I’m getting annoyed now, I was wet, cold, I felt like a drowned fucking rat. “Oh, but it’s okay for you to tell Robin I like getting fingered in the ass?”

You stop walking and turn towards me. “She wasn’t supposed to say anything, and I was drunk when I told her that.”

“I’m drunk now!” I almost laugh. “Baby, do you hear yourself? This is so stupid.”

“You told Steve I was better at fucking when I was under the influence! That is not the fucking same! That’s YOU saying that I’m boring when I’m sober. That’s fucked up.” Your wet hair is sticking to your face, the rain is getting heavier, and I can see how cold you are. I’m able to grip your upper arms and you tense under my touch.

“Sweetheart, you are the girl of my fucking dreams. Sober, not sober, you rock my fucking world.” You stare at me, your eyes darting from my eyes to my mouth. You lean in like you’re about to kiss me.

“Liar.” You whisper under your breath and pull yourself out of my grip, turning away from me. I roll my eyes and groan. You’re walking faster away from me but still talking. “You can’t get shit past me. I may be fucking you now, but I’ve been your best friend since diapers, so I know when you’re full of shit.”

“So, this is just what we’re doing? Just fucking? Nothing else?” I’m angry now, how dare you think that.

You turn towards me, walking backwards. “I don’t know, you tell me Eddie. I feel like you have a fucking magnet to my vagina everytime you see me since we started having sex! I feel like that’s all you want from me.”

“That’s not all I want from you, are you being serious right now?” I stare at you with my mouth open. “You’ve known me your whole life and you think it’s just the sex for me?”

“What else could it be?” You sneer at me, and I shake my head, I’m pissed now.

“Fine, think that. I’m not fucking stopping you.” Thunder booms in the distance and you storm away from me. We go opposite directions; you head towards your house, and I go to my trailer. Wayne was working another overnight and I was grateful I didn’t have to have a conversation. The rain was hard against my face as I run the few steps to the trailer. I run inside, the screen door slamming behind me. I pull my wet t-shirt over my head and toss it towards my room and light up a cigarette. My hair drips onto my skin and I grab a towel, squeezing out the wetness from my curls. The cigarette dangles from my lips and I almost choke on the smoke when I hear the screen door open and close, and you’re standing there, soaking from head to toe; your hair all over your face, your skin damp. You’re glowering at me, your chest heaving like you ran here. I put out the cigarette in the sink as we stare at each other. I walk towards you slowly and your eyes are still fixed on me like a wild animal. I grip your upper arms, and you try to move away from me, but I hold you in place. My mouth is inches from yours, and you sneer at me.

“I really can’t stand you.”

“Then why are you here?” I whisper to you; I tease my lips over yours and you groan. You pull me towards you by my hair, and we end up crashing into the kitchen counter. I hoist you up by your thighs and you kiss me desperately, wrapping your legs around me tight. You pull away from me again and are still glowering at me.

“I really hate you.”

“Yeah? Why don’t you show me how much you hate me?” I crash my lips against yours again, and your hands find my waist, pulling me closer. My hands go in between your legs, and you moan loudly. I push your underwear to the side; they were soaked from the rain and from you. You push me away by my chest, your hands in a hurry to undo my belt. I lean my palms against the cabinets next to your head, watching as you unzip me and pull down my pants, exposing my hardness. You kiss me again, pulling me towards you by my ass. I can see your nipples through the wet fabric of your dress, they peaked so nicely, I lean down and nip them through the fabric. You gasp and hold the back of my head, my fingers tickle your clit, and you moan against me, grabbing my dick. I scoot you towards me, holding your face in my hand. Your head falls back as I push myself inside you, and I groan. I fuck you against the cabinets, feeling every inch of your walls and feel your fingers claw my back.

“I hate you.” You moan. “Fuck-I…”

“Ungh, you feel so fucking good. Hate me all you want, baby, you’re not stopping me.” I moan when you grab my ass, pushing me deeper. You kiss me hungrily, opening your mouth wide, fighting my tongue with yours. I slam into you harder, your body thumps against the cabinet. “Mmmmm, like that baby?”

“Fuck…yes…ohhhhh…” you bite my shoulder and I gasp, rolling my hips faster. The squelching of your wetness and the sounds of my balls hitting your cunt as I slam harder sends a blaze of euphoria through my entire soul.

“Ohhh, fuck. Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum.” I groan against your shoulder, and I feel you move your hips with me. “Fuck yeah baby, just like that…unghhhh.”

“Cum inside me, baby. I want my pussy to swallow you whole.” You say, staring deep into my eyes. I smile at you, my thrusts getting sloppy and I feel your pussy clench around my cock and you’re screaming. And I mean SCREAMING my fucking name and it sends me into a fucking spiral of madness and lust that I explode my entire load into your pussy, still fucking you. Not stopping for breath, your nails cut up my back as another orgasm cries out of you and you’re holding on to me while I hug your waist tightly. Our sounds loud and pornographic and it feels like the entire trailer is shaking. I pull myself back to look at you, moving your wet hair from your eyes. Your lips are parted as your breath comes out in waves. I hold your chin with my fingers, gently grazing my lips over yours.

“Do you still hate me?” I whisper.

“Always.” You say, licking my lips.

I groan, smiling. “Good.”

Down, down, down… I can hear them outside my door listening. They think I can’t hear them but I’m smarter than them. They’re trying to taunt me. They’re trying to break inside my head and feast on my brain.

Both my arms sting as I crawl on my hands and knees underneath the windows.

They try to mock your voice, getting me to open the door. You wouldn’t be here. You don’t even know where I live. What would you think of me right now? I wonder. Crawling on all fours, hiding from these imaginary creatures that are trying to feast on me.

It’s not real.

I’m not real, so they’re not real.

We have two weeks off before we hit the last five cities of the tour. I’m in my cabin, in upstate New York.

I bet these creatures followed me from the woods after my walk.

What if Gareth sent these things? He hates me now, I’m just a junkie in his eyes, who still knows how to put on a good show so he can suck my dick.

I had met my dealer yesterday; I was low on cash, he was willing to give me a discount if he could suck me off, so I let him, and then he wanted me to fuck him, so I did that too.

Men, women, it didn’t matter anymore. If I got something out of it, I didn’t care what I put my dick in.

They’re chatting outside my door now. I need to stop the noise. I crawl to my coffee table, blindly searching for a needle.

I find one, and my stash, loading up the chamber with the drugs. I go to the bathroom to look in the mirror, my veins in both my arms are fucking sore, so I find a good one in my neck. My eyes flutter close, and I smile, awkwardly stumbling back to my living room. I couldn’t even feel the sweet burn anymore, it was almost like the burn was just built into my now.

I sit on the couch.

It’s quiet again.

Thankfully.

I can’t handle the noise again.

“Generals gathered in their masses…just like witches at black masses, evil minds that plot destruction…” I sing the beginning of War Pigs by Black Sabbath under my breath as my head lulls back against the couch. My phone buzzes in my pocket; I slowly take it out of my pocket and put it to my ear.

“Eddie?” It was Ted.

“Did I miss curfew again?” I say and a stupid laugh escapes me.

“Jesus Eddie.” He says quietly. “Are you by yourself?”

“Nope, they’re outside my door. I think they’re asleep, they’re quiet now.” I tell him, curling my legs up to my chest.

“Who? What are you talking about?”

“I think Gareth sent them; they think I can’t hear them.”

“Eddie, I’m coming to you. I’ll be there in an hour.” He says, he sounds panicked, then I begin to panic.

“No! Teddy! If they see you, they’ll hurt you! I can’t let them hurt you.” I feel tears spring to my eyes. “Please, man. I can’t lose you too.”

“Just stay put, buddy. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, okay.” I nod into the phone, and he hangs up. Part of me knew that whatever those things were weren’t real, and it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but they felt real to me. I know I didn’t just do heroin tonight; I think ketamine too. Cocaine? I had to protect Ted; he has done so much for me. I get up from the couch, taking the metal baseball bat I keep near my door. I swing open my front door, the hinges squeaking, and I stare out into the darkness of the woods. “Come on mother fuckers!” I yell out. “Think you can fuck with me?!”

I hear my voice echo around me, and all that talks back is the silence. I laugh, twirling the bat in my hands. “That’s what I thought, pussies!”

I hear something skitter on the grass in front of my porch and I yelp, falling back on my ass, the bat rolling away from me. I scramble to my feet and run back in the cabin, shutting the door and locking it. I slide down to the floor, pulling my knees up to my chest, I keep my eyes on the window, I have to look for Ted’s headlights, to make sure I can get him in safely. They weren’t gonna hurt him, I’d rather die than have something hurt him.

I see the headlights reflect off the window, and I quickly stand up. I hear his footfalls go up the wooden steps of the porch and I open the door. “Get in, get in!” I say, grabbing his arm and pulling him in, he stumbles into my living room.

“Eddie, what the fuck?” He says, staring at me with wide eyes.

I turn to him, and I whisper. “They’re out there.”

“Eddie, there’s no one out there.” He tells me gently.

“There is, there is.” My eyes are wide, I can feel it. I can also feel my tears on my cheeks. “They live in the woods.”

Ted grasps me by my forearms. “I think…I think you’re gonna have to take it easy the next few days.”

I stare at him, and nod. “Yeah…yeah, I need to rest. I need to…I feel like I’m going insane. They’re not out there?”

“No, son.” He tells me quietly. “Where is your stuff?”

“B-back bedroom and there.” I tell him, pointing to the coffee table where my needles were, my empty bag of drugs, and a few loose pills. He takes everything off the table, and I shiver, watching him walk away. “Where are you going?” My voice sounds younger, childlike.

“I’ll be right back, buddy. Just sit down. I’ll fix us something to eat.” I nod at him again and sit on my couch. Was this what my life was now? Constant paranoia, fearful of what walks outside. I look down at my arms, even with all my tattoos, you could see how black and blue my arms were. The track marks went all the way up towards my wrists, my arms looked skeletal. When was the last time I ate?

Did people really still enjoy our shows? How could they not tell how fucked up I was every show? We were still up on the charts; Rolling Stone wanted another interview after the tour.

I run my hands through my hair and shiver. This was madness. I was a fucking madman.

The next morning, I wake up, feeling an ache in my stomach. No no no no. I try to move from the couch but every single muscle in my body feels stiff. I groan loudly, was I dying? Was this death?

I look at the coffee table, none of my stash was there. I grit my teeth, trying to sit up.

“Ted!” I yell, my throat was raw.

I see his form come into the living room; his hair was tied up in a bun. I try to sit up but a wave of a nausea hits me.

“You’re finally awake.” He says, putting a mug of coffee in front of me. The smell alone makes me dry heave.

“What?” I hold my stomach, and grimace. “Fuck why is it so cold in here?”

“You’ve been sleeping for two days.” Ted tells me and my eyes snap to his. Realization hits my gut, and I start to remember a few days ago. I told him to get rid of my stuff, that I needed a rest.

No. No. No. No.

“Where did you put it?” I ask, my teeth grind as it feels like my stomach is being clawed at.

“It’s gone, Eddie. I did what you asked me to do.” He stares at me, and my eyes narrow.

“Well, I was fucking lying!” I groan out in pain, my body folds back on the couch. “FUCK. This hurts, Teddy this hurts so bad.” I feel sweat pool behind my neck and my joints feel locked in place. “I need it, man. It’s the only thing that will make this pain stop.”

“It’s gone, Eddie. I’m sorry.” He tells me, leaning back in his seat.

“Fuck you!” I growl and tears spring to my eyes. “Why did you come here?!”

“Because you were fucking losing it!” He yells at me. “Saying there were these things outside, taunting you, that Gareth sent them. Eddie, you’re rotting your brain with this shit!”

A painful groan and sob escape me, and I gag. He brings a large cooking pot over to me and I vomit into it. My insides felt like they were on fire, nothing I did was making me comfortable. I clench my fingers against my stomach, my body was trembling.

“I’ll give you Motrin for the pain.”

“Fuck that!” I scream at him. “Ughhhhhhh. Fuck. Teddy, please, please I need something stronger.”

“No.” He says, no emotion in his tone.

I grit my teeth. “Fuuuuck you! Please, please man. I just need it to stop.”

He leans back in the chair, lighting up a cigarette, just watching me. I wanted to fly off that couch and strangle him, but everything hurt. I was stuck there.

I had passed out, the pain getting to be too much. I had taking off my clothes in the middle of the night and was just in my boxers. Ted was sitting in the recliner chair; some stupid fucking show was on the television. I had slid off the couch on my hands and knees, grunting as I crawled towards him. “I need…the fucking drugs, Teddy.” My voice is hoarse, and my muscles feel stiff. My head pushes against his thigh and he holds me back by my shoulders. I groan angrily; my palms were sweating as I tried to force my way through him. Tears pool from my eyes as another wave of pain hits my joints.

“Please.” I sob. “I’ll do anything…I just want this pain to stop.” I feel his eyes on me, and I gaze up at him.

He holds my face in his hands. “No.”

I collapse onto my back, my chest heaving with sobs. “Fuck you, man. Why are you doing this to me?” He doesn’t respond. “Answer me!!!”

I don’t even know what day it is.

But I want to die. I want these withdrawals to take me out. I almost shit myself tonight. Ted had to drag me to the bathtub. I couldn’t stop crying; it was too much.

I think I was saying your name in my sleep. Ted kept asking me who you were, and I finally said, “the girl that I loved and lost.” He said he never remembers me ever talking about you, and I tell him that it hurts too much to talk about.

The shaking has stopped, my bones don’t feel like they’re breaking anymore. I still want to die, I’m feeling everything.

“Get up. Take a shower.” Ted tells me, nudging my shoulder. I turn away from him, curling my legs up to my chest. “Eddie. Get. Up.” He shakes my arm again; I slap his arm away.

“Get the fuck away from me.” I grumble.

“You’re acting like a child. Get up, man.” He says, sighing loudly. I don’t answer him, and before I know it, he’s throwing me over his shoulder. I’m kicking and screaming all the way to the bathroom. I’m surprised he can carry me. Well, I’m sure I don’t weigh much. He plops me down in the shower and turns it on, the water bites my skin and I scream at him.

“You’re a fucking asshole!” I scream at him, trying to get out, but the warm water against my skin feels good and I stop.

“Clean yourself up. You’re starting to stink.” He tells me, throwing a washcloth at me.

“I could fire your ass, you know.” I snap at him, standing under the stream, my hair soaking. “Are you gonna stand there and watch me like I’m a fucking mental patient? Get out of here.”

“Fire me all you want, I’m not leaving.” He says, closing the shower curtain and I hear him sit on the lid of the toilet.

“Stubborn prick.” I grumble, squirting shampoo onto my hand and putting it through my hair. I could feel how gross and greasy my hair was, it felt stiff.

“I may be a stubborn prick, but you should feel lucky that I’m here.”

“Yeah, so lucky.” I scoff. “Once we’re back on the road I will find a way to get high again.”

“Okay, that’s your choice.” He sounds like he’s flipping through the magazine.

“Yeah, it is my choice. This wasn’t.” I peak my head behind the curtain to glare at him.

“You told me you needed a rest. Probably a good thing, wouldn’t want you worrying about little creatures crawling into your bed at night.” He says, meeting my eyes and smirking.

“Oh, fuck you.” I close the curtain forcefully, washing my body until it was raw. I’m able to actually look at my arms. They were scabbed over; the bruises had a yellow tint to them.

“Who’s the girl?” Ted asks me.

“What?” I wipe the soap from my eyes.

“The girl you’ve been moaning about in your sleep.”

I pause. I feel my stomach clench and my heart ache, I let the shower rinse the shampoo from my hair. “No one.” I snap.

“Doesn’t sound like no one.” He says, and I hear him light up a cigarette.

I sigh. “Someone I knew, back in Hawkins.”

“Girlfriend?”

It takes me a minute to answer him. “More than that.” I mutter.

“What happened?”

“Jesus, Ted. I don’t want to talk about it.” I turn off the shower and open the curtain, squeezing the water out of my hair. “Hand me a towel.”

“Say the magic words.” I hear the arrogance in his voice.

“Hand me a fucking towel, please.”

He pulls a towel off the hook and throws it at me. I dry myself off, wrapping the towel around my waist and I walk towards the adjoining bedroom. I toss on a long-sleeved t-shirt and pull on a pair of dark jeans. It was early spring, but up here, it still felt like winter. I throw on some thick socks and take my cigarettes off my dresser. The smell of bacon hits my nostrils and my stomach rumbles painfully. I really don’t remember when the last time I ate was. I walk to the kitchen, seeing Ted with a dish towel over his shoulder, and plates of bacon, sausage. He was making eggs now.

There was coffee in the pot, I move past him to grab a mug and pour myself a cup. I poured half the sugar into the mug; I still felt shitty, but the shower had helped some.

I sit down at the table, lighting up a cigarette, pulling my leg up to my chest. The Eagles played softly on the radio, and I close my eyes, inhaling on the cigarette. I jump when Ted places the plate in front of me and I glare at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that too loud?” He asks me sarcastically. “Why don’t you stop glowering at me and eat the damn food.”

I scoff, sipping my coffee and biting into my meal. The taste and aroma of the breakfast fills all my senses and I have to control myself from shoving all of it into my gullet.

Fuck.

I forgot he could cook.

I mean, breakfast was easy to cook but he used to be a chef so, he puts his own twist on it. I was full once I was done, and Ted had given me two Motrin which I reluctantly took. The rest of the day went by surprisingly smoothly, I had written a few songs with the acoustic while Ted sat in the recliner chair, watching his dumb television show.

I decided to fuck with him the following day, to pass the time. I had some coins in my pocket, his opened coke can was in the cup holder next to him. I put the coin in between my two fingers and lined it up just right, launching the coin right into the mouth of the can. It splashed a little on him and he glares at me.

“Lucky shot.”

I take another coin, and the same thing happens, I smile at him. He shakes the soda drippings off his hand.

“Don’t fuck with me, kid.” He grumbles and I launch another coin into the can, and I laugh. He throws his shoe at me, and I laugh louder. I’m able to get a smirk out of him, and we go back to sharing the comfortable silence.

Evening approaches, and he had made us some steaks on the grill. It was a warm night, so we sat out on the back porch, the fire pit going as we smoked cigarettes. I lean back in my seat, staring up at the stars. My body still hurt, but this was the first time in a long time I felt content.

“The girl you heard me talking about was my first love.” I tell him quietly. “And my only love.”

“What happened?” He asks me gently, inhaling on his cigarette.

“I happened. Well, my stupidity happened.” I sigh, letting the smoke billow from my nostrils. “We grew up together, did everything together. Her dad had died when she was a baby, her mom was a drunk. My mom was dead, and my dad was in jail, so we only had each other. And Wayne. Wayne made sure we were taken care of the best he could. We got older, and we fell in love.” I stub out the cigarette in the ashtray and I light up another. “This was a fucking insane kind of love. A lot of passion, a lot of arguing, a lot of laughing. She drove me crazy, but not as much as I drove her crazy. When I started to realize how deep my feelings were for her, I got scared. So I left.”

“Why?” He asks me.

“I ask myself that every day, man.” I chuckle. “Doesn’t matter now. She’s probably happily married with kids somewhere. And I’m here, detoxing from heroin in a cabin in the woods.”

“She sounds like she was one hell of girl.” Ted says with a smile.

“Yeah, she was.” I smile back at him.

That was the first time in a long time I felt at ease with myself. That was also the first time in a long time Ted, and I had sat down with each other and just shared comfortable silence.

Should’ve known that I was going to fuck that all up again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* a/n: hi! I know it's short, but I'm just preparing you for the next couple of parts. Fair warning it's...well, you'll see. *insert evil laugh here* My son is having surgery on Thursday to get tubes in his ears so I will leave you with this, and maybe about a week for the next installment, maybe sooner. Who knows?! Again, I love you guys. <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fluff #eddie munson x smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson comfort

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asexual-means-no-attraction · 1 year

Note

ik this is gonna kinda be an everyone-is-different situation but how do you cope w "what if no one sees me as a man dysphoria"? ive been struggling rlly bad w that tonight n i rlly didnt know who else to ask so im sorry if im overstepping boundaries or anything- and ofc dont at all feel obligated to ask!! i hope youre having a great day🤍🤍

I got a general ask here about tips for dysphoria.

But what you're asking seems to be more about the mental health side of things. Which is such a struggle I know. I can't say I've always dealt with it in healthy ways or in ways I'm proud of. But it's been a while since I was really depressed and mental health wise I'm doing way better. So most of my advice will be from things I found useful in my past. My memory might not be the best tho.

Some general easy things I found that can help:

-write it out. I can't stress how much holding in the anxiety and depression thoughts about "whether I'm a real man/women" can tear you apart. It's good to get it out of your system.

-likewise, talking to someone can help.

-if you're afraid you might harm yourself then don't let yourself be alone. You don't have to talk to someone or do anything with them. Just be in the same room. I know you don't want to be around anyone in that moment. But you're less likely to hurt yourself if someone is in the same room. Bonus points if it's someone who accepts you, but it's not necessary.

-therapy is always a good option. Finding someone that specializes or has other transgender patients.

-redirect your thoughts. "What if no one sees me as a man?" -> "What if they don't see me as a man YET?" Adding a yet can help a lot. Just because you're not there right now, doesn't mean you'll never be. It's similar to how saying "I want to take a nap" instead of "I want to kill myself" has been shown to improve people's self confidence. You can't just magically stop your brain from making those thoughts, but you can change the sentence to something more optimistic or mild.

-Distraction. Distraction. Distraction. When the thoughts as so intense that you can't handle it, sometimes it's best to just distract yourself until they've calmed down. Then you can address things. Whether that's what you need in a current moment will be up to you to decide. But making a good list of things that you think could be good distractions can help. Ex, I like to act out scenes from the stories I write, look at weird houses on Zillow, play video games, anything that involves having to think and move in some way. Just sitting and watching TV isn't engaging enough, and going on a run still lets my mind wonder. Those things aren't good for me in terms of distractions.

-meditation doesn't work well for me, but I've seen it work extremely well for others.

-make something. Bake something, cook something, design something with play dough. Being able to stand back and see something you've done is a good feeling to push the bad feels outta the way.

-do an activity you find gender affirming. Do you find using power tools to make you feel more masculine? Then go use some. (Gender roles are stupid and dumb, but so long as the exist you might as well use them to help you feel better about your actual gender).

-mantra line up with meditation and can help too. These are sentences or words you tell yourself regularly. And then you can use them when you're feeling especially bad to help lift your mood.

Hopefully at least one of those things can help you. Like I said, it's been a while since dysphoria has really hit me that badly. But things do get better. It's a tough place to be in I know. But there is a future for you where you will be seen for who you really are.

#answered #ask #not discourse #advice #transgender advice

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rocksandboulders · 5 months

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i wrote this about how im doing right now and about the path ive taken to get where i am. it's a healing bit of writing, but it hurts. it's mostly about childhood and growth. enjoy.

tw: mental health issues, suicide mention, parents

I think at this point in my life, upon coming to terms with my childhood, my past, I have moved forwards into a mourning of sorts.

It started with an anxiety, a fear of what I had to overcome to heal. I looked away from everything to escape, I moved, I isolated, I cut down and restarted from the beginning to build myself a person in which it was safe to live, and a mind in which I would not continue to kill myself.

When I relearned my lungs, I screamed. I cried out in anger for what I now had to face. I lashed out at my mother. I shunned her from me. I rejected her. I built an impassable fortress around myself and my space and my mind, only letting one in to correspond on business terms. It was dark. There was no warmth.

When my mind finally calmed down, when I shivered in the cold of my aloneness and my eyes ached for the light again, I turned on my lamp and I wrote poetry. I longed to see my mother, my siblings, my family. I found pieces of them in every person I knew, I remembered them in songs I heard, and I began to look at the open places where I had so unceremoniously torn them from inside myself.

And then, I cried.

And as I look, now, upon myself, and upon this old house, upon my past and present, upon those around me, and those who are not, I find myself comforting each of those parts of myself.

I take my boy in corduroy and fit him with the weighted blanket of the one who gave him his first taste of a new, true home.

I regret the tears I caused in that lobby, and thank the universe that my phone battery died when it did. But I’ll never disagree with what I said.

I look at my mother, my siblings, my family, and the spaces that they are finding ways to fill once again, and I take a moment to ponder the hole left still empty. It has the scratches on the walls of one buried alive. There are many versions of me, from many times in my life, that still inhabit this body. Once they finally heal back together, that’s where they’ll all go. Once we are, once I am one person once again.

And, I still cry.

I’m sad to leave, now, when I do. This is my home, this is where I grew and changed. This is where everything that has ever happened has happened. This is where I was before everything. And this is where I come back to, still. I keep all those feelings I’ve had, they all still live inside.

I still run, retreat, hide, and reject those I know.

I still curl into my own body, the walls of my skin and muscle and bone protecting the gentle and heated soul that raptures and destroys.

I still search.

I still write.

And I still yearn. I wish for the years that have passed to be different. I wish I had memories to find joy in from my youth. I wish to read the books they wrote to me and remember how their promises carried through.

I had wanted kids for a long time. I couldn’t stop laughing.

It was the best day in my 25 years of life.

You cried- Mama & Papa felt very bad. But you were brave, very brave.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

I wish for a childhood that I can remember, not just in fondness, but one I can remember at all. I want, so badly, to be able to hug my mother and know that it isn’t new. I want to feel as though being held by her is something I remember from anywhere, anytime. I want to believe she has always wanted me close.

I want for the unwavering love that a child deserved.

And I want to cry. When that finally sinks in.

#writing #poem #poetry #writer #angst #healing poetry #free verse #tw suicide mention #tw mental health #tw mental illness #tw parents

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knucklegagging · 5 months

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I know this is mostly an anorexia tumblr account but tbh I havent been really struggling w my anorexia lately. Found old emaciated pictures and I think thats a lot of the reason why. Side by side my highest weight and lowest weight one looks weak and the other looks sexy. And Like... I wanna live. If i can. Especially now. And maybe a lot of this is that I was dealing shit no one is ever supposed to talk about but I have never been fat. I have been big busted hourglass booty girl slimthicc milkshake walking cunstain looking barbie body. And I have been emaciated. Thats so weird to really notice for the first time in my twenties. And it's not like I've been actively wanting to die or anything intense like that, but I didnt know life could feel good. And lately it really does. And my set range right now is 111 to 116. Which is healthy, as is my bfp. So i get that this is an anorexia tumblr account primarily... But maybe it doesnt always have to be? Idk tonight just feels really good. The girl I like seems to like me. And by that i mean shes made it clear she does in more ways than one. And frankly ive been a migraine and she still around. Its been a lot to adjust to. I have not been an easy person for her to be around. At least, i know I would be tired of my anxiety bullshit by now. She has so much patience and kindess and goodness in her soul. I feel like I have known her before, almost like memories from a dream that you woke up from too quickly. The taste of thoughts percolate my mouth with painful dripping sighs that crave to know her better, like filling in the blanks. Theres something so different, so unmistakable about the way that she is.

I dont know how to comfort myself at times because I cannot be running away in the opposite directiom but sticking my heels into blue on the treadmill next to her is terrifying. I get these scared moments thinking that I am going to ruin everything in one fell swoop w one stupid comment or being too hyper, talking too much, saying shit she wouldnt care about, moving too fast, not moving fast enough, not being whatever it is she expects of me. ...but yet she just roll w the punches. I dont want her to know how inexperienced i am w relationships. I dont want her to know anything bad thats happened to me and have it sour the interest that she has in me. I'm like paranoid that somehow she would find this blog and see my thoughts spelled out even though ik she won't. That wouldnt happen. But out of nowhere sometimes I just get scared like she will wake up one morning and decide I am not good enough. That I am too autistic or I have too much of a past behind me. That I have already been defiled and that makes me too much drama. I cant say that sentence out loud. I can't say many if any things out loud. I am always writing them down for her.

I am terrified about how to play my sleeves. At some point she will probably see my arms or thighs if we continue to spend time w each other. How the fuck is that all supposed to play out? Do i pretend its nothing and just rip the bandaid off? Wear a tank top when i see her next? That sounds dumb. There is no way to gradually unveil my body in ways that are not jarring when you have as many scars as I do. I like myself fine I just sometimes notice how much i do not know and that can psyche me out. But today has been good. Tonight has been happy. I am very much okay today. I just wish time would move faster slowly, so that i can know how we end up so that i can have a road map. I want thw answers for how to behave so that i dont cause any problems for her. If i could read her mind, if i could see the future, if i could know now what i will know then about whether i am going to make her life difficult... I am so scared. I am so happy. But I am also so scared.

Whats gonna happen when I am really visible and she can really see me? I've done so well at being invisible. With her I dont want to be. But it is all unknown and I'm a big ol scaredycat

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roseamonglilies · 2 years

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Love and Legacy : part I

Viktor x Lab Assistant!Reader ▪︎ Part I of V

Part II ▪︎ Part III ▪︎ Part IV ▪︎ Part V

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Sexual tension, Some mild angst, fluff-very-fluff, Viktor being self destructive (because he is.), it will not be this cute in the future

Synopsis: Viktor and Jayce must attend a party to celebrate the success of hextech. Jayce insists Viktor get a date since he's going with Mel, and suggests the lab assistant as his +1.

His words dabbled on, as they always did. You’d found the texture of his voice to be a soothing sound, the sentences flowing in rhythm, intermingling like rain hitting pavement that pooled into a rambling puddle of thoughts and theories. The sound had often become a peaceful part of the ambience as you worked.

Viktor was always so quiet, often lowering his voice when others passed, leaning in so he could continue in a hushed tone, as though secretive of the information he kept. Yet, he had so much to say to the listening ear; you often wondered how such a small figure could possibly contain so much text.

However, today, his conversation seemed more strained than usual. A slight level of stress, or perhaps annoyance, tainted his words. The source that stirred the pot: Jayce, of course. Arguments between them weren’t uncommon, and in fact, occasionally humorous to eavesdrop on whilst you pretended to be busy with an assortment of colorful vials.

There was a complication in the math, a frustrating obstruction in the pursuit of discovery. These tests on Hextech had moved into the biological aspect, entertaining the idea that its properties might reach beyond engineered industrialism, it may very well be the key to heal any illness. Though, the process couldn’t seem to even reach past basic flora. Whatever predictions and theories that either men had scribbled messily in their notes hardly matched the results you were getting with each experiment. By calculation, the plants should have flourished under contact with the hex core, and despite brief success, everything seemed to wither with time.

You were currently examining the dying cells of such flora. It seemed even being close to the Hexcore’s presence caused the verdure to shrivel. Red pen in hand, you scribbled down potentialities, reasons for why this scientific wonder seemed so toxic to the fragility of life. At this point, the messy red ink, intermingling with Jayce’s precise lettering and Viktor’s rushed, florid cursive, had well overlapped the original notes. The two men for whom you reported chatted idly away in the background, and you found yourself drifting your attention to their conversation, finding the colossal task of finding the necessary error in the math to be too exhausting for you to handle today.

“Come on, Viktor! Just try to think about it,” Jayce’s voice was needy. This may very well be the hardest argument he’s ever tried to win. The test tubes clinked against each other in your hands as you slowly poured one’s content into the other, swirling the yellow and red liquids, creating a vibrant amber hue. The color reminded you a bit of Viktor’s eyes. “Do you plan on following me around the entire time? You’ve gotta find someone to at least pretend you’re being social.”

“Is there even a point in me going, then? I hardly see why my presence is so important; I’ve never... liked attending these kinds of affairs, you know that,” He stuttered slightly towards the end. You sympathized with his anxiety at least, though he had admittedly avoided any social gatherings that involved Hextech as of yet. “You’re much better at being the face of our research.”

“These aren’t just my achievements, Vik,” Jayce glanced your way; you maintained his gaze, eyes flickering between him and his partner. Viktor himself seemed to grow more frustrated by his situation, passing his cane from hand to hand, avoiding eye contact with the man looking down on him expectantly, trying to dig up more excuses to dodge getting dragged along with Jayce. “You’ve gotta start taking the rest of the credit you deserve; we’re partners, all the way.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Viktor replied bitterly, finally standing. He eyed Jayce in annoyance, though his lips quirked into a knowing leer. He spoke hushed and low, the same as he did when discussing his studies. “More importantly, if you plan to spend your whole evening with Mel, why go yourself? I think you’re capable of finding much better ways to spend time with each other than this. Just like I’d rather spend the night working here.”

“You’re kidding! When was the last time you spent a night outside this room?” Though meant as a jab, the question held some genuine weight. Studying Viktor’s face, it wasn’t hard for anyone to see that the products of labor had left their marks. He was exhausted, thoroughly and irrevocably. Your initial concerns for his fatigue eventually melted into everyday occurrence. You questioned if you’d actually ever seen the poor man leave his research before anyone else each night. You couldn’t recall.

You half wondered if Viktor might commit to his act, but something seemed to finally break in him first, signified by the heavy sigh that left his mouth. He shook his head, dropping back onto the stool.

“Maybe, I’ll think about it later. But, please, let’s finish our work first, please.”

“God knows that’ll never happen…” Again, Jayce’s eyes met yours, but you averted them quickly and acted the part of a dutiful assistant, working diligently on her work. Though when you finally payed attention down at the actual work, you noticed that you’d mixed the wrong vials. The entire process was void; you’d have to start over. A quiet shit left your mouth as you fumbled with the glass tubes. Heat spread across your face as you scraped your days work from the table to the nearest trashcan and buried your face in their notebooks, using the research to distract yourself from your distracted thoughts.

Hours passed.

Little else was said on the matter between them. They still had a few days to bicker amongst themselves.

There was to be a grand festivity on the eve of Piltover’s Progress Day, celebrating exactly one year since Jayce and Viktor’s introduction of Hextech to the public. The Acumen Gala, the public had begun calling it, ironic in hindsight to the subject of discovery. It was to memorialize the final steps into the new age of progress, likely both of the men’s most important nights of their lives. And Viktor wanted nothing to do with it.

You didn’t notice when the sun was set, but as you set your pens aside and stretched your aching back, it was evidently dark through the lab’s windows. The distant lights of the sleepless city twinkled through the frosted glass like stars in an abstract painting. Clouded, yet endlessly bright and twinkling.

Likewise, you hadn’t noticed Jayce’s departure. Perhaps he’d said his farewells and you’d simply entangled it with the rest of your surrounding. Perhaps he hadn’t said anything. The lab seemed awfully quiet at night, especially now as you gazed around in a tired trance at arbitrary equipment and models.

“Winding down soon, Miss (Y/n)?” The voice was crystal clear in the still room, soft and inquisitive. How had you not heard him approaching? Were you that tired? Rotating the stool around, you nearly stopped breathing when you saw him. Viktor stood, leaning against the table for support, his cane tucked snugly under his other arm. He was less than a foot away from you; your knee nearly brushed against his leg from where you sat, and he leaned forward ever closer. His eyes eyes weighed heavy from clear fatigue, accentuated even more so by the dim lighting, yet his eyes still shone bright. “I hope you don’t plan to stay much later, it’s getting late, even for you.”

He was right, it must have been past midnight now. It was unfortunately easy to lose track of time when you get so engrossed in your work. You easily understood Viktor’s habit of working for hours on end without taking a break, but he clearly took his devotion to an entirely new level. Though, something about the way his last words sounded, a part of it left a knot in your gut.

“I’m finishing for the night, I think,” You bit the inside of your lip, studying the creases in his face. They’d seemed to deepen with your response. He’d asked this at times before, asking if you were going to stay for the night. Most nights you didn’t. Sometimes you did simply to finish whatever menial task at hand. Realistically, though you may be able to kid others, that wasn’t the only reason. “You should try and wrap things up, too. You need the rest, Vik.”

“Perhaps another night, there is still much I need to do.” He shifted his weight from the table to his cane, finally beginning to give you a reasonable amount of space. A sympathetic smile breaking through his weighted look. Somehow, you’d somewhat missed the close contact. “But I don’t see much reason for you to stay if you have nothing else.”

“Still?” Your hand found itself reaching out before you’d thought to extend it. It barely grazed his arm before you pulled it away. Though the action had already set off a reaction. Viktor’s head swiveled to face you, taken back by the contact. His golden eyes gazed into yours, flickering between each one. You wondered what it was he was looking for within them. What he hoped they might reveal. “It can wait can’t it? At least until the morning?”

“I’m afraid progress has its price, Miss (Y/n)…” Deterring his stare, his eyes seem to sink further, clouded with burden. He paused, but you didn’t respond as it seemed he was still trying to let a few more words loose. “But I would not mind a small break. I’ll walk you home… if you’d have my company.”

It was fortunate that your dormitory was less than a 20 minutes walk from the lab: the perks of being a student at the same academy you worked. He’d had to layer his ordinary uniform, consisting of the same familiar red button-up and the tight-fitting white vest, with a coat and scarf. The shirt brought color to his usually pale complexion. It was a sight you thought you’d never get tired of, regardless of how many times he wore it. Though, sadly, the brown coat hid most of this.

Occasionally while walking, your shoulders would brush. Eyes would connect followed by a rush to deflect, and, at least on your end, an attempt to hide an ever-growing blush. Though the distance shouldn’t have been an issue, Viktor seemed to be struggling before you’d even past halfway. He stumbled every few moments, and it was clear that something was wrong when the shoulder brushing had begun to develop to full-on leaning.

At some point, your arm found itself snug around his waist, the other gently pressed against his heaving chest as he struggled to catch his breath between haphazard coughs. The two of you had stopped moving awhile ago, taking a break to allow Viktor some rest. His weight had found a more stable home against the nearest wall while you continued to hold him steady.

“I must apologize, Miss (Y/n),” Looking up at him, though paler than before, he smiled meekly. A weak chuckle left his throat. Your heart twisted in your chest from guilt. His smiles were rare, but you felt they could warm you instantly in the coldest of weather. Though, tonight, it seemed to serve as more of a mask to hide his discomfort. “I must be more tired than I thought.”

Unfortunately for him, his residence was more than a reasonable distance, as was the lab by this point. Fortunately for you, this could work many ways in your favor. But first, Viktor needed to catch his breath.

“How long has it been since you’ve had a good night’s sleep?” You pulled him from the wall once he seemed calm enough to continue, though you kept at a slow pace, still holding him up. Your waist pressed into his, curves fitted against each other like a jigsaw puzzle, and you moved in unison. Viktor neglected to answer, and you didn’t exactly need an answer to understand just how sleep-deprived he was, with how heavy he felt against you.

After about 15 minutes more of edging along the path home, you finally made it to your front door. You bit your bottom lip as you debated with yourself. Viktor was in little state to be left alone, as if you would actually expect him to make it all the way back to the lab without keeling over in 5 minutes. He was already pressing most of his weight onto you, and had you the idea to let go, there was no doubt that he’d immediately crumble.

No, you wouldn’t let him do that to himself. Standing in your doorway, door wide open, you stood, gazing up at the sickly scientist. His eyes were shot, sunken, and exhausted, begging for the chance of sleep, and his skin was gaunt with a color you thought couldn’t get any paler. Viktor had begun to turn away, mumbling a goodnight to you, eyes cast down. He didn’t seem to even have half of his mind present as they seemed more of a slur than a real word.

A tug on his sleeve stopped him in his tracks. Again, like before in the lab, he glanced back, though this time much more hesitantly.

“Come inside for a bit,” His eyes widened just ever so slightly, and an exhale escaped his lips. Almost unnoticeable, but it didn’t escape your attention. Your hand that remained hooked on the fabric of his coat began to pull him in. “At least for a few minutes, so you can take a bit of a breather…”

“I shouldn’t- I don’t want to intrude, really-“

“Viktor.” Your tone was just serious enough to silence him. He thought for a moment, almost embarrassed of the proposition, but he knew what his options were.

Wordlessly, you lead him in past the door, and he let you without protest. It was a crude living space, messy, books and clothes that you neither knew were clean or dirty strewn about, mixing together on the floor. Regardless, the bed remained made and things in the order that they belonged. It was at least presentable to someone like Viktor, who, based on his current state, with his vest unevenly buttoned, shirt untucked from his pants, and hair wildly unkempt, you felt had no place to criticize. He didn’t seem in the slightest bit interested in any aspect of the room. His coat had long since fallen off onto the floor as he stumbled further in.

You did little to guide him. He must have been secretly relieved that you let him in, regardless of how much he tried to be polite. By the time you’d turned to close the door after letting him free of your hold and turned the lock, you’d already heard the sound of a quiet impact and a heavy sigh. Turning, Viktor had seemed to target your bed the minute his eyes scanned the room. His head faced the ceiling, arms spread out, chest rising slowly; Out like a light.

You had to admit, after you got him inside, you had no idea what would follow. So, you just stood, debating, listening to his soft steady breaths. He seemed calm.. at peace even. The sight was almost abnormal. Viktor and sleep were two words that never really belonged to each other.

A sight like this was rare, seeing Viktor in such a vulnerable state, asleep.

So you crept forward, slowing your breath and stepping on the ends of your toes to remain as quiet as possible as you approached the man.

It was... cute.

Less so with you staring down at him the dim-lit room. This was the first time you could remember seeing his face without a concentrated frown. A part of you secretly committed the image to memory. Moments like this had come before; little glimpses of an innocence most would only see in a child. The face of someone who still dreamt despite the weight of life.

But now what? You had a man you knew as a colleague, dead asleep on your bed. For a moment, you considered calling for Jayce, but you doubted Piltover’s Golden Boy would be willing to drag himself out of bed at this ungodly hour to help you with such a minor inconvenience. That, and, how the hell would you explain this to him? He teased you enough as is, this would exacerbate the issue tenfold. No, Jayce was out of the question. And honestly, there wasn’t anyone else besides him who could have helped.

Quietly you changed out of your uniform, locking the bathroom door out of precaution, and changing into simple sweats. Normally you’d wear something more loose, but you didn’t want him to see you like that in the morning. It was awkward enough that he was going to wake up in your bed. By the time you’d changed and finished your night routine, Viktor was still sound asleep. He hadn’t moved an inch from where you left him.

Sleep itself called you in, perhaps jealous of how easily Viktor seemed to find it, but there was little to go. Viktor left no room for you to fit with him so you ended up in a ball on the loveseat that laid parallel to the bed. And after a strenuous moment of rolling around, trying to find a comfortable spot, you couldn’t blame Viktor for stealing the bed. Your legs dangled off the edges of the couch, and your neck felt crammed against the armrest. It would be hard to imagine someone as tall as Viktor ever fitting on such a small piece of furniture. Regardless, sleep wasn’t hard to find. The room was usually so silent, and you’d always find yourself fighting your thoughts before you could drift away, but tonight, Viktor’s rhythmic breathing was almost… hypnotic. It sounded like waves washing against the beach, like a quiet whisper amid an autumn breeze, and it pulled you in with ease.

You didn’t dream. You were just floating in an abyss that felt like tv static, and not a thought passed by, but when you awoke, it had felt like you’d only been asleep a few seconds. Yet, you could still sense that sunlight was present. If you thought to open your eyes, you felt they would be blinded by the light, so you opted to keep them shut a moment longer, to savor the bliss of not waking fully.

Perhaps it’s best that you did. As your mind came more to, sounds were becoming more apparent, and had you not heard it, you might have opened your eyes to see a peculiar sight.

There was a creak, not far from the loveseat.

A shift of weight.

And then a small series of steps, approaching you. Though they were light and careful, they were indistinguishable. They stopped right in front of you.

You nearly flinched when you felt a hand brush your hair from your face. It was gentle, almost feathery, as though trying not to wake you, though his attempts were obviously futile. His fingers tingled against your skin as they drifted up your cheek and tucked the strands behind your ear. They lingered, for a moment, and you realized then he was staring directly at you.

A feeling like a cold breeze washed over your face, and you wondered just how close he was leaning down over you. You prayed he still thought you were asleep, and that your face wasn’t turning as red as you were afraid it might be. You don’t think you could handle the look in his eyes if you opened yours to meet them. Your neck ached to be moved, but you fought from moving, from changing even a single beat of momentum in your breath as you maintained a slow, steady rate.

Viktor’s hand withdrew, yet he didn’t move, his breath still tickled your face. It smelled sweet like freshly baked bread or like a cherry pie left on an open kitchen window to cool. You were rigid, putting every effort of your body into not moving. You could only hope it still looked natural. A sigh escaped the room, followed by another creak, then more steps. Something heavy and soft found your shoulders, a blanket.

And then, finally, the door, opening and closing with an assured click.

The moment the click reached your ears, you shot up, and looked around. He was gone. You were alone.

Sunlight filtered through the window’s curtains lightly. It’s soft rays hit the hard-wood floor and gave the room a honey-hued lighting.

Viktor had made the bed. There wasn’t a single wrinkle on the on the sheets or quilt, and the pillows seemed to be lined perfectly. It seemed he hadn’t wanted to leave a single piece of evidence that he’d ever been in your dorm room. Or, he was just trying to clean things up after his intrusion.

Your hand found your face, touching the same spot that he’d trailed with his fingers. The area on your skin still tingled, and the blush you’d been hiding finally bled out in it’s entirety.

Despite his best efforts, there was an undeniable piece of evidence left behind: The blanket, and the bed you imagined, still smelled like him. Vanilla and coffee, and something that had an oneiric quality, almost like maplewood. The smell had flooded you the minute he’d laid the blanket down, and felt like you’d been drowning in it every second after.

That wasn’t the only thing left either. His tie was still hung around the post at the foot of the bed. You would have to return it to him, then. Just as soon as you could muster the courage to get dressed and go to the lab. Where you were sure he was headed right now. And where you would eventually have to meet again.

#viktor #arcane #viktor arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane viktor #arcane viktor x reader #viktor x reader #viktor fanfiction #arcane fanfic #arcane x reader

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animereaderinsertwriter · 2 years

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Of Rats and Men (Levi x Reader)

Part I: Secret Love Song, Part II (Little Mix)

part II here

part III here

part IV here

ao3 link here

Excerpt: "Tomorrow, they would get up, (Y/N) would pack her things, and they would pretend none of this had ever happened. They would each go to work, and when— not if, they too often worked too closely together for that— they saw each other in their discharge of their duties, then they would greet one another cordially and act as though they were nothing more than casual acquaintances. They had done it many times before, but now— now there was finality to the act that had not been present before. This was truly the last time they would be together like this."

Description: This is a tale of Staff Sergeant Levi Ackerman and ADA!Reader, and how they desperately try to convince themselves and everyone else that they aren't in love (and, of course, they fail miserably) while trying to take down the biggest crime syndicate in Shiganshina: the Marley family. Also, there are songs involved in the chapter titles.

Warnings: Smut, angst, Cop!AU, Happy ending, conflict of interest, MINORS DNI, non-graphic violence

As Levi ducked into the shadiest, seediest bar on this side of Shiganshina, he cursed the day he ever set foot into the police academy.

Cold, hungry, soaked to the bone, he griped to himself. That Jaeger brat had better have something good to give us, or else I’m going to kick some of his teeth out again.

Every other sane person in Shiganshina was at home, warm and dry and cozy and far away from the hellish winter storm that was raging outside. Unlike Levi, they were probably snuggled up by a fireplace, drinking hot tatis and laughing with partners or family members; unlike Levi, they were likely settled and happy and delightfully un-married to their jobs.

Levi’s feet squelched and squicked against the sticky bar floor as he made his way to his usual table. The lighting was dim as always, and Levi shuddered to think what he’d find on the soles of his shoes later. He made his way past the bar and a few of the booths until he found his usual spot— a booth in the back with a hole in the wall next to the salt and pepper shakers— and settled in, pretending to look at a menu as a voice came through on the other side of the wall.

“Took you long enough, Sergeant Ackerman.”

Levi tch-ed. “I have a day job, brat. Unlike you.”

Despite the wall between them, Levi could practically see Eren Jaeger’s shrug.

“Dealing’s a full-time job. I was still on time for this meeting, though, and I manage to answer all my texts.”

It was a direct jab at Captain Erwin’s lack of communication and they both knew it; even so, Levi didn’t take the bait. That wasn’t what he had walked two miles in the sleet for. Intel was.

“I’ll talk to him about it, but we let you know coming into this that we don’t keep a tight leash on our U.C.s. The burners are for emergencies only. Now, tell me what you’ve got.”

“You gotta pull me out.” His voice was strained, tight with anxiety. “There’s a fucking rat in SPD, and sooner or later, that rat will follow the cheese trail back to me.”

Levi’s eyebrows raised. “How do you know?”

“How do you not know?” Eren hissed. “You and Erwin planned a perfect sting three weeks ago, and we got intel six hours in advance to move everything. You saw the empty warehouse. How else can you explain it?”

“You have a point.” Levi shook his head. “All the more reason not to pull you out just yet.”

There was a beat of silence, then—

“Why the fuck not?” Levi mentally willed Eren’s voice to quieten, but to no avail. “We can arrest every Marleyan gang member from here to Trost on all the crimes I’ve seen committed! Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“It is, but we may never get a chance to smoke out the bastard or bastards that keep feeding Marley information if we pull you out now.” Levi glanced around, then added, “Besides, if I pull you now, Mikasa and Armin will be left hanging. You don’t want that, do you?”

That was a low blow— Eren, Armin, and Mikasa had grown up together, went to the academy together, and were now in separate branches of the Shiganshina Police Department’s Undercover Unit—but it was one Levi didn’t mind making. Whatever it took to hold Eren together and keep him in place, Levi would do; he just hoped that Eren could take the pressure as well as Erwin wagered he could.

“No,” Eren admitted after a tense silence. “No, I don’t.”

Levi had always wondered what the bond between the three of them was that held them together so tightly. He’d known them since their academy days, had watched them rub cramps out of each other's legs, run their fingers through each other's hair, and oh-so-subtly clasp hands when they thought no one was looking, and yet after watching them from the sidelines for years, he still couldn’t figure out what made them tick. As far as Levi could tell, Mikasa was blindly loyal to Eren and viciously protective of Armin; likewise, it seemed that Eren loved both Mikasa and Armin fiercely, and was bound by that love as though they owned pieces of his very soul; and Armin, so cautious, so careful in all matters, was to all appearances recklessly in love with Eren and Mikasa… he would die for them. The passion between the three of them was evident, and Levi had always marveled at how they each could find enough love in their hearts for two people and the bravery to commit fully to both of them when Levi couldn’t muster a tenth of it for even one person.

“That’s what I thought.” Levi sighed. “You’re doing good, kid. It’s only for a little while more. I swear we’ll smoke this rat right out of SPD and you’ll be out of this mess before you know it.”

Eren was silent for a while, and Levi let him be. He sensed that Eren needed this moment more than he needed texts from Erwin; Eren needed to be reminded of who he was, what he was fighting for, and if a few moments more with his Sergeant could help in that regard, then Levi would give it gladly.

“If you can,” Eren said, his voice tired, “Tell Mikasa and Armin that if I don’t make it—”

“Shut up.”

Eren protested, but Levi smacked the wall so hard that the picture frame above him rattled.

“I said shut up. I’m not telling them shit because you’re not going to die.”

Levi meant the words with all his heart, and he thought he heard a shaky breath on the other side of the wall.

“Okay.” There was strength in his voice now, determination. “Okay, Sarge. I’ll do it.”

Levi nodded, satisfied. “Good. Be careful, Eren. You know who to call if you’re in trouble.”

Eren huffed a laugh and said something from the other side of the wall, but Levi didn’t hear it; his phone buzzed, and a text popped up on the screen.

‘Will you be home tonight?’ the text read, and Levi felt a sharp pang of something that felt like guilt. ‘If not, no worries.’

That’s what she always fucking said. “No worries,” when that’s all they both ever did. “No worries,” when he sought company in dive bars and rode home with pretty girls he’d fully intended to fuck just to see if he still could and instead walk home all the way across the city with a guilty conscience for nothing at all; “No worries,” when her eyes met his in court, and she presented his testimony against criminals time and time again even though they both knew there was a conflict of interest that would get them both fired were their relationship more… legitimate.

‘I’ll be home,’ he typed back. ‘Use your key.’

“Sarge? Levi?”

Levi started.

“Yeah?”

“You’ll be there when I call?”

Levi frowned, and the guilt he already felt grew even heavier.

“Yeah.”

Eren sighed. “Okay. Alright. I’ll see you later, then.”

“See you. Stay safe.”

With that, Eren took his leave, and a weight settled heavily over Levi’s shoulders. On impulse, he pulled his phone back out and typed,

‘Put a kettle on. I’d kill for a cup of your darjeeling.’

Barely a second later and another text dinged through.

‘Already on. It’ll be ready when you walk through the door.’

Levi shoved his phone back in his pocket and closed his eyes, exhaling, wishing like hell he’d never tried any darjeeling ever at all, much less one brewed for him by tender hands.

It was more difficult than he would have believed possible not to send back, ‘I love you.’

***

(Y/N) sat up when she heard the door open, her eyes winking sleepily open and her nipples hardening against the cold draft her lover’s entrance let in. She pulled Levi's fuzzy housecoat tighter over her loose-fitting tank top, beneath which she wore no bra, and Levi raised a brow at the sight she made lounging leisurely on his fancy, cozy, vintage-patterned couch.

“Honey, I’m home,” Levi drawled, kicking off his shoes, then his socks (which fell to the floor with a wet plop). His coat and shirt followed, then his pants, and when (Y/N) came back from fetching a towel to clean up the water with, a laundry basket to carry off the wet clothes, and a pair of boxers and soft joggers for him to change into, Levi was completely, unashamedly naked.

“You could have told me you were walking home,” she chided gently as they cleaned up the mess together. “I could have drawn a bath for you, or, heaven forbid, actually picked you up.”

“No, I couldn’t have,” he said, pulling on the joggers. “I wasn’t somewhere an ADA would be welcome.”

(Y/N) paused, drew away, but Levi’s strong, nimble hand wrapped around her arm, keeping her in place.

“It’s not like that,” he said gently, his thumb tenderly stroking her skin. “It was— confidential. Work stuff.”

“It’s not my business even if it was like that,” she replied, turning away. “It’s not like it matters anyway.”

Levi sighed as if the weight of the world had pushed the very breath out of him, and (Y/N) felt immediately contrite.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “You didn’t come here for that conversation, and neither did I. Come into the kitchen, your tea is waiting for you.”

(Y/N) moved to go, but Levi didn’t budge. She turned to see what was the matter, but before she could get a read on him, he pulled her to him and kissed her lightly on the mouth, stealing the breath off her lips. She moved closer, deepening the kiss, and Levi’s hand came up to caress her cheek. (Y/N) couldn’t help herself; she leaned into the touch, and Levi’s breath shuddered as her tongue slid behind his lips.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he said, his mouth moving against hers. “It’s been too long.”

“It’s been a week and a half, Levi.”

“Still too long.”

The worst thing was, (Y/N) was tempted to agree.

“Come on,” she said, tugging his hand. “Tea first— you need something to warm your bones.”

Levi grumbled something about “naked” and “warming up faster,” but (Y/N) would hear none of it. She led him by the hand to the kitchen and shoved a steaming cup of darjeeling into his hands before slipping out to the living room to grab a blanket for each of them.

“How was your day?” she asked, sipping her own cup of tea. “Catch any bad guys?”

Levi grunted and shook his head. “Not quite. You put away any bad guys?”

(Y/N) snorted and echoed his reply. “Not quite. The Shannon Brady case is going tits up— literally. Have you seen the social media commentary on it?”

“No. What’s up?”

“Got a video of her flashing her tits at a rave. Anyone with two eyes can see that it’s not the one where her assault took place— and even if it were, it’s hardly relevant, but— well, you know how people are.”

“Mh.” Levi took a sip of his tea. “That’s fucked.”

“Yeah.”

“Reporters get ahold of it?”

“My scotch bottle is empty,” she said by way of reply, and Levi scoffed.

“Unbelievable.”

“I thought we weren’t gonna talk about work.” (Y/N)’s voice was smaller and softer than she had intended it to be, and Levi reached over to grab her hand.

“I know.” Eyes the color of steel met her own, and a shiver ran down her spine at how soft they were. “It’s just such a big part of us… we live for our work. What the hell else are we supposed to talk about?”

We’re not supposed to talk at all outside of our jobs, (Y/N) thought, but she didn’t need to tell Levi that. They both knew what they were getting into the first night he drove her home.

“I know,” she replied. “I know, Levi.”

They sat in silence, drinking their tea, and when Levi’s stomach growled, (Y/N) didn’t even try to hide her smile.

“Oh, I know that look,” said Levi, a grin crawling its way across his face. “Where’s my shepherd’s pie?”

“In the crock pot,” she replied, nodding towards the counter. “Fix me a bowl. I had some already, but I’m still hungry.”

Levi brought two steaming bowls to the table, and (Y/N) tucked into hers immediately. She’d made it hours ago when she got off from work with no intention of leaving her couch, but then she’d thought of Levi working late and in the cold, and she’d sent him that text without a second thought.

“I think this is my favorite food,” Levi said, his foot finding hers under the table. “Thank you. You’re too good to me.”

And she was. She really, really was.

“Well, someone has to keep SPD’s best Sergeant alive and well,” she replied with a smirk. “If I hadn’t messaged you, I have half a mind to think you’d have died of hypothermia.”

“As dramatic as ever, I see.”

(Y/N) winked. “Just for you.”

Levi’s expression fell, and (Y/N) regretted saying anything at all.

What am I doing here? (Y/N) wondered, her eyes downcast. What the hell am I thinking?

(Y/N) jumped, startled as Levi slammed his spoon down on the table, and when she looked up, she found his expression embittered.

“Fuck this,” he said, sliding his chair back. “Come here.”

(Y/N) moved slowly, warily, but she came to him, and when he beckoned her to sit on his lap, she willingly settled her weight over his thighs.

“This is so stupid,” he said, his hands coming to rest on the crease of her hips, dipping into the crevice her thighs made with his thumbs. “I say anything, I fuck it up; you say anything, I fuck it up. No matter what, we end up fucked six ways from Sunday.”

(Y/N) grimaced and tried to move away, but Levi held her fast.

“I’m tired of fucking this up, so let me do something right, just this one time.”

He placed his hands on either side of her face, his fingertips tracing her ears, and (Y/N)’s heart pounded in her chest.

“To make things clear beyond a single shadow of a doubt— I love you, (Y/N). I loved you from the moment you slapped my face in front of an entire courthouse full of people.”

Despite the gravity of the moment, (Y/N) laughed. She remembered that day well— she’d had an especially trying time on the job (a whole host of terrible new cases to slap on top of the pile she’d already been given), and then, after a horrific court session, she’d come outside to hear the snark and smack-talk of a sarcastic, smartass SPD Sergeant. Levi had deeply insulted her to her face, had told her exactly what he thought of her abilities as a prosecutor, and as a result, she’d slapped him so hard everyone in the adjacent corridors heard it. After that, he’d told her he was entirely serious and would repeat the same accusations later over drinks, and that was how they’d first fallen into bed together. It was nothing short of a disastrous, one-off hate-fuck, a release of tension with a sexy, impossible cop, that had somehow morphed into… this.

“You’re the person I think of when my shift is a little too long,” he continued, stroking long, elegant fingers down her neck. “You’re the one I envision when they ask me who I’m hurrying home to afterwards.”

“Levi,” (Y/N) breathed, squirming closer and bringing her hands up to rest on his shoulders, but Levi moved them, holding them in his own. “You’ve never said any of this before—”

“Let me finish, love.” His eyes were fond, and yet so sad that (Y/N) wasn’t sure what she should be thinking. “I love you, but as things stand… we don’t work, do we?”

“Levi—” she began again, but once more, he stopped her.

“I can’t put your name down as my emergency contact. You can’t stop by my office and drop off the lunch I forgot so that I won’t have to buy out for once. I can’t even take you to the nicest restaurants a cop’s salary can afford and treat you like the princess you are.”

Levi looked away then, and (Y/N) could have sworn he was ashamed.

“Worst of all, we sure as hell can’t share a life together— not without one of us giving up our careers that we worked so hard for. I refuse to let that happen to either of us; we’d be miserable. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met, so I know you know this. I only have one question.”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly. “Ask it.”

He looked up at her then with such an earnest expression that it broke her heart.

“Why is a woman like you wasting her time with me?”

Secretly, (Y/N) was grateful for his chosen query; it was a question she could answer just as earnestly as he had asked it.

“Because I’ve loved you since the moment I asked you what drink you thought I’d like and then you bought me the most vile liquor I’ve ever tasted.”

“Oi,” he chuckled lightly, squeezing her hands. “That was expensive vile liquor, and you kept drinking it.”

“No way was I gonna let you get the better of me,” she grinned. “I’m a woman in a male-dominated field; I had been going toe-to-toe with far meaner bastards than you by that time.”

“That, I can believe.” Levi stroked her hair away from her face with a small smile. “I can’t help but remember thinking I’d never heard someone talk so fast, so much, or with as much vehemence as you before we met— I thought, there’s only one way to get that good at arguing.”

(Y/N) nodded sagely. “Lots and lots of practice, preferably with someone dumber and more persistent than oneself.”

They were silent for a moment, and (Y/N) closed her eyes, resting her forehead against Levi’s. It hadn’t escaped her notice, what Levi was trying to do. This was the beginning of the end; it didn’t matter that his hands had started to roam her body, or that she wanted more than anything to just forget either of them had ever said anything. This was it, the last hurrah, the calm before the storm.

I will not cry, she thought as Levi’s hands traveled up to the sides of her neck. I won’t do that to either of us.

“You know we can’t do this forever,” he murmured, his breath fanning over her face.

“I know.”

“You know we should end it soon, before someone finds out and both of us get fired.”

“I know.”

“Well, then.” His hands stilled, and (Y/N) opened her eyes. “What do you say we make the most of tonight, and start weaning ourselves off of this thing before it kills us?”

(Y/N) forced body not to tremble, forced her voice to be steady and replied, “If that’s what you want.”

Levi grimaced. “That’s not what either of us wants.”

“All the same.”

Levi nodded, somber. “I understand.”

They didn’t talk for a long while after that. (Y/N) never moved from Levi’s lap, and he didn’t ask her to; instead, he grabbed the bowl of shepherd’s pie and spooned bites into his own mouth, and then (Y/N)’s, taking turns feeding each of them until they were full. It was only once they were stiff and tired from sitting that they felt the need to move, and when they did, it was to go together to the shower, which they shared with tender touches and sweet caresses, but no more.

“I love you,” (Y/N) said as Levi washed gently behind her ear. “It feels good to say it.”

“I know, baby,” Levi replied, kissing her temple. “It really does.”

From the shower, they moved to Levi’s bed. It was small, barely big enough to fit the two of them, but they hardly needed any extra room. Levi guided her gently beneath him, and they kissed and touched until he was hard and leaking between them, and (Y/N) was so wet she was almost embarrassed. His hands opened her up slowly, with the care one might take polishing a precious pearl; (Y/N) cried out as he pressed inside her, stretching her walls around his length, and she tried not to think that this might be— should be— the last time.

“Look at you, so good for me, so pretty,” said Levi, his thrusts slow and deep. (Y/N) lived off his praise, let it take a life of its own in her breast as he kissed her neck, scraping his teeth across delicate skin. “My pretty girl, my best girl— you feel so good.”

“Yes, yes,” (Y/N) whined, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her nails trailed down his back, and he hissed as those nails made welts whithersoever they went. “Fuck, Levi—”

“I love you,” he replied, increasing his pace. The sound of his balls slapping against her filled the room, and as his mouth trailed lower to her breasts, (Y/N) began to tremble. “I love you so much.”

There was little room for talking after that. Levi’s mouth was busy latching onto pretty, pert nipples, and (Y/N) was fully occupied just trying to catch her breath. By the time (Y/N) reached her peak, Levi was hammering into her at a merciless pace, and her neck and breasts were a patchwork of hickeys that left her sore and satisfied— when she came, her eyes rolled back in her head, her body went rigid, and Levi chased after her, his own body stuttering as he came in tandem, pushing even more deeply inside of her as his orgasm took hold.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Levi said, echoing (Y/N)’s thoughts. “With you, it’s always so—”

“Intense,” she finished, smiling a little sadly. “I know.”

Together, they cleaned up in silence— Levi never could abide a mess— and then they lay with their limbs entangled, taking what comfort they could from one another.

Tomorrow, they would get up, (Y/N) would pack her things, and they would pretend none of this had ever happened. They would each go to work, and when— not if, they too often worked too closely together for that— they saw each other in their discharge of their duties, then they would greet one another cordially and act as though they were nothing more than casual acquaintances. They had done it many times before, but now— now there was finality to the act that had not been present before. This was truly the last time they would be together like this.

“Don’t cry, love,” Levi murmured into her hair. “I can feel that you want to, and I— I’ll never make it if you do.”

(Y/N) nodded, and though her nose stung with the effort, she refused to allow herself to cry— even so, by the time she fell asleep, there were teardrops in her hair.

part II here

#attack on titan #aot x reader #levi ackerman #levi imagine #aot fanfiction #aot smut #cop au #ao3

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shoutaaizawas · 3 years

Text

↳ touya todoroki x reader → ❝safe in your arms❞

summary: your bleeding shivering and scared you stumble to the last place you thought you’d go for safety inspired by @one-lonely-whumperfly post word count: 1.9k+ tags/warnings: injury mention, blood mention, mention of being drugged, angst, fluff, light enemies to lovers a/n: ive been super unmotivated to write but this was a lot of fun so shoutout to this prompt. also it’s super cold here. hope everyone is doing well.

Dabi was enjoying a quiet night at his apartment. It wasn’t a nice place and it wasn’t in a nice neighborhood but it was the place he called home. Being around the league could be too much at times so it was nice to get away and have time alone.

He was laying across his dingy couch with a plastic cup of cheap whiskey in hand as he watched whatever was on TV when he heard banging at his door.

Dabi let out a huff as he stood up, if Toga was here to bother him again he was going to have to move and hide his new address. Opening up his front door ready to scold Toga the words disappeared from his mouth at the sight in front of him.

There you stood, slouched against the wall. Blood smeared across your face, a foggy look in your eyes, and fear and exhaustion rolling off you in waves.

There was a lot to wonder in such a small amount of time. What happened? Why did you come here? How did you even know where he lived? Granted he didn’t have time to consider these things as you were currently falling to the ground.

Dabi reached out to grab you, his arms wrapping around your waist just in time. He pulled you up letting you rest your weight on him so that you could stand.

“I didn’t take you as the type to show up at my place and fall for me.” He teased. Was it the right time for a joke, no, but he was a villain he wasn’t supposed to care about those things. Not to mention the anxious wave rolling through him was unbearable and cracking a poorly timed joke was an easy way to cope. The smirk on your bloodied lips reassured the worry of offending you that he pretended wasn’t there. Despite your acceptance of his joke, your reply was serious.

“Didn’t know where else to go.” You rasped out. There was a rawness to your answer. There was none of that hero bravado. Just fear. It stirred something in him that he had been trying to pretend wasn’t there for a long time. It was easy to brush off when you were standing tall throwing his snarky banter back at him with the same level of wit he had thrown it at you with. There was something terrifying in your vulnerability that he couldn’t exactly place. Or at least he pretended like he couldn’t place it.

“Not sure if this would even be my first choice.” He said as he readjusted getting a better grasp on you. It was tempting to pick you up and carry you over the threshold of his apartment like a princess but he resisted. With your arm over his shoulder, he helped you to his uncomfortable couch, placing you down on it. Turning on the light he tried to get a better look at you.

Squinting from the brightness of the light only made things look worse. The blood on your face was still fresh, dripping down onto your clothes. Casual clothes. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen you in anything other than your hero costume.

He took your chin between his fingers with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of anymore, even more, surprising was how you didn’t flinch away from his touch. He wasn’t sure if that was some form of trust from you or just a sign of how out of it you were. There had to be some explainable reason you were here and not at a hero’s house or the hospital.

Looking at the cuts on your face he felt an anger rise in him that he didn’t expect. He wasn’t an innocent man, he had done this to people, he had probably done this to you at some point. Why was this upsetting him?

“Stay here, let me grab some stuff.” He said before going to the bathroom and grabbing his first aid kit from underneath the sink along with some wash clothes covered in warm water. Returning he knelt on the ground in front of you. Your eyes were closed and you were swaying back and forth even seated on the couch. He didn’t know anything about what happened but he had a bad feeling that someone had slipped you something.

“Tell me what happened.” A part of him was dying to know but he also knew you would need something to distract you from the pain of your wounds being cleaned up. Your eyes opened up and you stared at him blankly for a moment.

“Um, I- It-” You took a moment to get started. “I was at a bar. I was supposed to meet my friend. It was supposed to be a girl’s night, I got all ready, I even put on my favorite shirt.” You said looking down sadly at the black blouse you were wearing that was now covered in blood. Dabi carefully wiped away the blood on your face with the warm cloth looking for the wounds. “They couldn’t make it, hero emergency. I thought I’d at least stay for another drink since I was already there and dressed up.”

“Typical heroes, always running off.” Dabi scoffed.

“There was this guy, I didn’t think anything of it. I- I just wanted to finish my drink and go home but he started talking to me.” You said closing your eyes for a moment like you were trying to remember it all. “I thought he was maybe a fan. He wouldn’t stop talking to me, he got me a drink. I didn’t really want it but I didn’t want to be rude.”

“I would think a hero like you would be more careful.” Dabi scolded as finished cleaning up the cuts on your face. The thought of some guy bothering you made him sick which was unexpected. He moved on to cleaning the wounds on your face.

“I- I didn’t think he was dangerous.” You said in a small voice. Dabi paused, his hand resting on your chin tilting your gaze to his. For a moment he was pulled into your eyes, the warmth there even under the fear that still lingered. “I got up to leave, I was outside but my head was spinning. I didn’t drink that much, I knew something was wrong but I could barely stand up. Someone grabbed me, there was no one around, they pulled me into the alleyway there and I couldn’t do anything. My quirk wouldn’t work right, I couldn’t do anything to protect myself.”

The thought of you defenseless was far more upsetting than he could fathom. You hesitated to say what happened next, not that you really needed to, it was clear on the wounds that he was cleaning what they had done.

“Do you know who it was?” He asked trying to keep his voice even. The anger rising in him was hard to control, not that he was used to controlling himself.

“A local crime boss, or at least his guys.” You said. “I’ve been trying to stop him. He’s been using people, using their fear to get money and control from them. I’m going to stop him but he tried to stop me first I guess.”

Dabi made a note, it wouldn’t be hard for him to find him. Especially if he framed it as a business proposition from the league. That could wait, right now he just wanted to help you. How odd that was for him.

“Can’t let your guard down when you mess with underhanded criminals like that.” He said.

“What about criminals like you?” You asked. Your tone was teasing but he could hear the edge of honest interest in your voice.

“I’m a lot more straightforward. No fun beating your heroic rival when they’re already roughed up.” He said as he placed a bandage on your cheek. You had a few scratches on your face light bruises were already forming on your skin. “Let me get you some pain killers.”

Dabi returned with a glass of water and some pills before he went back to his room to find clothes you could wear. He grabbed a black shirt and some shorts.

“You can stay the night here.” He said. “Change into something more comfortable.”

You looked down at the clothes for a moment, possibly reconsidering the situation that you had put yourself in. To his surprise, you took the clothes and shakily stood up. He pointed you in the direction of his bathroom.

Dabi went into his room trying to tidy it up. Making the bed, grabbing the trash off the nightstand. He couldn’t recall the last time he had cleaned up for someone. He never cared what people thought of him or his place and it wasn’t like he had very many guests.

He turned at the sight of you in the doorway. You looked good in his shirt. You looked better in general, you had cleaned off the blood and grime that had been leftover and you looked a little more coherent now. He was still waiting for you to realize you were crazy for being here but you were still here.

You moved to lay down on the bed, pulling the thin covers over yourself.

“I’m cold.” You said.

“I don’t have any more blankets.” He replied. It wasn’t like he even needed blankets, he never got cold.

Before he could do or say anything else you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into bed. For a moment he laid there in shock as you scooted closer to him.

The silence wasn’t awkward or tense but he found himself wondering if he should say something to break it. Social anxiety wasn’t something that Dabi faced often, you seemed to be putting him through a lot of unfamiliar moments tonight.

“Why did you come here?” He asked finally. The question had been on his mind all night. The pause of silence made him wonder if you had fallen asleep.

“I was scared and felt alone, I could barely think straight I knew I needed to go to someone but for some reason, your face was the only one in my mind.”

Dabi glanced over to you, you were looking up at him with a soft look in your eyes that made his heart flutter. Having you here tonight made him realize that his fascination with you was past that of a villain has for their rival. His interest in you was resembling a crush more than anything else at this point.

The fact that in a vulnerable state you thought to go to him, no you weren’t even thinking it was an instinct that brought you here.

“You’re safe here.” He said quietly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you in. Your head rested against his chest and the way you nuzzled against him made his cheeks warm. Your eyes closed and your breathing evened and he knew you had fallen asleep.

One night had changed so much for him. He wasn’t sure if you would wake up tomorrow and regret coming here or if just maybe you felt similar to him. The thought was scary but for now, there was nothing he could do except enjoy the weight of you in his arms and think about how good it would feel to incinerate the person who had hurt you.

taglist: @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkghatesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write @todominica @why-so-red @kvichisaki @curiouslilbeast @izukukozume @maat-the-prescriptive

#dabi x reader #dabi #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha

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primalsouls · 3 years

Text

white rabbit pt 3

langa hasegawa x gn! reader (pt 1 - pt 2)

anon: omg is there going to be a part three of the white rabbit ?? i liked it a lot but its ok if you dont want to write a 3rd part :D

⚠️ : mentions of blood (like from small cuts??)

theme: general

note: sorry if the part where they skated is badly written lol. ive not good with "action" scenes. 💀 anyway, here is part 3! i hope you like it, enjoy it, and thank you for reading! no proofread, sorry for any mistake. let me know what you think. :)

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

Skateboards were lined up beside each other. Their owner stood on them with ease, readying themselves once the horns go off. The crowd watched with anticipating gazes. Whispers were thrown among themselves on who would beat who. Bets were placed. All eyes set on the young pair. Excitement and anxiety swim around the atmosphere.

Langa took a deep breath. His baby blue eyes looked over to his group of friends. Reki sent him a wink, mouthing "good luck" toward him. Miya and Shadow talked among themselves what the White Rabbit would do to Langa. Said boy was nervous, for the time during a beef. He was nervous. Going up against his crush. Was probably not the best way for first impressions. Maybe, just maybe a beef wasn't a good way to talk to his crush. At all.

Before the race start off, Langa turned to the other skater.

"[Y/N], good luck." Langa said, surprising them with a kind smile. [Y/N] blinked, repeating his words through their head before a click of the tongue was heard and their eyes narrowed.

"I don't need your well wishes." They started quietly, voice low and steady. "I'm gonna win and you'll be the one leaving S. Not me." Langa was taken back by their words. He picked up the broken tone on their last two words. "And it's White Rabbit to you and everyone else. We're not friends and we'll never be." As they spoke, the traffic lights above them, went on one by one. When it reached the third light and the horn went off at the same time [Y/N] said those last three words, they dashed away from the crowd and Langa, already starting to get ahead of him. Langa froze a bit, watching them skated away. His head repeated their words over and over. It made his heart stirred uncomfortably inside, a heavy feeling settled inside his chest.

"Langa! What are you doing!?" Miya called out, bringing the boy out of his thoughts. He glanced over to them. Miya's face scrunched in a pissed manner as Shadow and Reki stared at him confused.

"Ah... Sorry..." Langa mumbled before he prepared himself shortly and took off with ease speed. Reki watched with a frown on his face.

"What's up with him?" Shadow asked as they all watched the bluenette disappeared from their sights. Reki shrugged, turning to the other two.

"I don't know... He look upset for a moment there." Reki said, scratching the back of his head. "Langa," he started off, catching their attention. "He has a crush on [Y/N]." His voice was low, wanting to keep it between the three of them but Shadow was shock at the confess he repeatedly the sentence loud enough for the small crowd surrounding them to hear but Reki and Miya shut him off, whispers being thrown at him to quiet down. "You guys heard me right." Reki continued, pulling them away from the crowd and headed to the large screen displaying Langa and [Y/N] racing down the old mine. Langa was still a bit far from them it made the watchers believed he won't be able to catch up.

"A crush? On [Y/N]?" Miya started slowly.

"aka the White Rabbit of S?" Shadow chimed in.

"Adam's sibling!?" Reki jumped when they both yelled at him in unison, causing him to take a step back and held his arms up to defend himself. He nodded rapidly to answer their three-part questions.

Miya shook his head, disbelief written all over their face. Shadow crossed his arms, head shaking as he disapproved of Langa's crush on the other skater.

"That's absurd. Of all people, this slime likes [Y/N]!? Did he hit his head or something!? Not only that, what makes him think beefing them would get them to like him back?" Miya paced back and forth, hands moving everywhere as he rambled on.

"Heh. He probably wants to see if they were compatible. I mean, it's such a uncool way to talk to your crush. If it were me, I would have just show them my awesome tricks!" Shadow exclaimed but when he turned to the boys, he received nothing but deadpan looks. "Why are you looking at me like that!?" Shadow glared, gritting his teeth.

"Oh, please, you wouldn't have the guts to do that in front of the pretty florist manager. Much less talk without looking like a fool." Miya taunted, smirking. Shadow splurted out insults at the youngest. Reki chuckled awkwardly. The redhead turned to the screen, the camera set on Langa. His brows knitted down. Reki could see he focused on something else than on winning.

"Langa..." Reki muttered, fists clenched by his sides.

Langa turned a corner, catching up to [Y/N] and the skaters that watched by the sidelines down the narrowed racetrack cheered for him and the White Rabbit. Most of them demanding the skater in front of him to guide him through their thorned pit. Langa didn't want this. He realized that now. This won't get him anywhere aside skating against them. And from the way they spoke to him in that little time between them, it sounded like anger flowed through their voice. He wondered why. Has he said something wrong to them? Has he spoke to them in the past and pissed them off in any sort of way? Langa couldn't recall any moment approaching them. So, why did they acted cold towards him? Why did he felt hatred from them? It bothered him. It upset him.

[Y/N] clicked their tongue. They glanced over their shoulder and noticed the boy catch up to them with great speed. They won't lose. They won't leave S. They won't be strip off their title. Off their everything they built. [Y/N] won't allow Langa to win. They had to win. Their life was on the line. Just the thoughts of it eagered them to speed up. They lowered their stance, picking up speed. As another corner came to view, the rabbit swirled side by side a bit, bend slightly and turned the sharp corner. Their breathing quickened. They were anxious for the race to come to an end. They know they be should careful but they wanted to end the beef already and prove to Adam what they were capable of being S's White Rabbit.

Langa. It was all they heard from their older brother. It disgusted them. Made their skin crawled. When their eyes first landed on the bluenette and the way he skate, it left them stunned. [Y/N] never saw anyone skate like him before. And when they saw Langa go up against their brother that one night. The way he avoided his signature move, Love Hug had left them astonished. [Y/N] only got hurt terribly when his brother practiced Love Hug on them and when their aunts questioned the bandages and injuries on them, they lied by saying they fell down somewhere. Bruises were always left on their body from that move. And it envies them that Langa found a way to avoid it.

[Y/N]'s handa clutched into fists. They reached into their single pocket on the front of their hoodie. They pulled out a long rope. Small, yet thick enough to hurl it at someone. It was littered with small sharp pointers that resembled thorns. The rabbit turned half their body a little towards Langa. As he came up behind them, a few feet away, they threw the rope with great force at him.

"Argh!" Langa covered his face when the object was thrown at him. He felt small thugs on his sleeves. He ended up taking a step back, making him lose his footing on the board but Langa forced his body to calm down and steady itself. When he tried to shoved the object away from him, it scrapped small cuts on his cheeks. He pulled down his arms down, looking around. Due to his small step back, he slowed his speed down, creating distance between them. The boy looked down at his arms and noticed small tears on his sleeves. No cuts created on his skin, though. But he did felt a hint of liquid streamed down his cheeks. Langa figured he got some cuts on his face and blood trickled down but he was scared to see it. He didn't have time to faint at the sight of blood.

A smirk was visibled on their face. With Langa's fall back, there would be no way for him to catch up. They were nearing the factory after all. Where the tracks narrowed down with no room to move or do tricks. The thought of reaching the winning line clouded their mind, [Y/N] forgotten what Langa was capable of doing.

And speaking of the young man, Langa made a couple of shortcuts to reach the rabbit.

It was beginning to look more of a chase now.

A bluenette skater chasing a white rabbit with crimson eyes. The factory being their thorns of pit.

[Y/N] looked around. Their eyes widen when they spotted Langa once again catching up to them. "What the hell!? How!?" They exclaimed. Cheers were heard from around them in the factory. It pained them. They were supposed to cheer for the White Rabbit. Not a pathetic boy who followed the rabbit down the hole. With teeth gritted, [Y/N] faced the boy completely, a deep frown on their face. "I won't lose." They whispered, coming to a halt by the stairs the narrowed catwalk led to.

Langa frowned slightly, looking around and trying to come up with a way to avoid the rabbit. Yet the same moment, he wanted to see what they would do.

"Oh no..." Miya said. Reki watched with mouth gaped.

"They're gonna hurt him. Real bad." Shadow added in.

"Langa... Langa, careful!" Reki shouted out with both hands around his mouth.

[Y/N] reached behind their back pocket and pulled out two black containers the sized of their palm and shaped like the spade. A single outlined white rabbit drawn in the middle of the spade container. As Langa neared them, [Y/N] raised their hands and like the stopwatch the white rabbit carries, time seemed to slow down around the both of them. Langa's eyes widen as the arms were pulled down, fingers releasing the containers, watching them aimed down at the space between them both. Shouts were heard from around them. Langa looked down at the ground once the containers hit the floor. Right before his eyes and [Y/N]'s, who still stood by the stairs, off the board, glaring directly at Langa with hatred, the containers exploded. Langa squinted when he noticed black like-vines popped out of the containers. They were thick like the rope from earlier, covered in thorns-like pointers as well. But this time, they were a little bigger that it looked like a tangled mess around the catwalk.

The thorned vines decorated the rails. From a far, it looked like an arch entrance was created. Langa closed his eyes and covered himself as he skated through the vines. His clothes getting caught on the thorns that looked like were getting closer. They were shrinking. When Langa glanced up, [Y/N] was already skating down the track, more arched vines coming life around the rails. They were spreading like they had a mind of their own. Langa bit his lower lip back. If he keeps going through the narrowed path, he would be cover in cuts, badly. And once wrong move would leave him blind.

He was determined. He would catch the rabbit.

Langa picked up his speed, deciding to go through the vines until he could figure out what to do. Blood spilled around his clothes from the cuts that covered his exposed skin but he didn't care at the moment. His eyes spotted an opening through the vines. Langa took a deep breath and jumped with his skateboard on that opening, a part of the rails that wasn't cover by the vines and swiftly rotated on the rail. A breeze going through his hair. [Y/N] glanced at their side and watched in shock as Langa clicked the front of his board on the rail that hasn't been decorated with their vines and moved once again with the other side of his board and jumped to land in front of the rabbit, a few feet away from them. The vines behind them both now, still spreading but with no one caught in their webs.

The White Rabbit was in rage. Langa escaped their hole. Despite the damage he received, he managed to crawled his way out and get ahead of them. They couldn't do anything else. The finishline was up ahead. Langa and [Y/N] tried to gather as much speed as they can.

"No. No, no, no, no...." [Y/N] whispered, pushing forward.

Reki, Miya, and Shadow were at the finishline, cheered for Langa to keep going.

Friends. It must be nice to have them. The support one gets. Having fun with them. They didn't had many friends growing up. Always isolated to their bedroom. They weren't allow to attend school like their brother had. No even oversea school. [Y/N] was stuck doing homeschool. No one ever knew about the child who came from another mother. Their father made sure no information about them were leaked out. Their father only paid attention to Ainosuke, after all. Neglecting only [Y/N]. Their aunts' so-called love hurts them. They didn't like the way they disciplined them. It traumatized them. A "love" like theirs was no love. Images was all they care about.

It sucks. And it wasn't fair.

Life wasn't fair.

"No..." [Y/N] stopped right on the finishline. Hands limped by their sides. Cheers grew louder around them.

But they didn't cheer for them, the White Rabbit.

"You did it! Langa!" Reki yelled excited, running up to his friend and threw himself at him. Langa huffed as he catched him but winced in pain.

"Careful, Reki! He's hurt." Miya pointed out, running up to them with Shadow. Langa waved a hand dismissively.

"I'm fine..." He said, resisting the urge to look at the cuts. His friends sighed at his response, shaking their head in disagreement.

Langa only smile before he looked around, looking for the other skater. He glanced back at the finishline and spotted them standing them, skateboard still on the ground, one foot to keep it from slipping away. Their head hanged low. Langa picked up his brother and walked up to them, believing he could possibly talk to them properly.

"[Y/N]-"

"It's not fair..." Langa heard them, yet their voice was barely above a whisper.

"[Y/N]... Wha-"

"Congratulations, my SNOW!" a familiar voice announced, cutting Langa off. Said boy looked at the source of the voice. From the entrance behind the crowd, Adam waltzed in on his board. Like the first time they met. "You did it! You defeated the White Rabbit! How wonderful." Adam applauded, stopping in front of the two young skaters. "You finally caught the rabbit and dragged it out of its hole." Langa frowned. "And I'm sure that rabbit knows what happens when its loses." Adam glanced at his sibling. Their fists clenched together.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Reki called out, taking one step forward.

"The white rabbit leaves Wonderland. Forever."

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17wishbones · 3 years

Photo

Will fix GIF quality later. I had a better one but, for whatever reason, it wouldn’t update or save the post! //sad face

But here it is! This one is a nice one, I think. And it’s got a tasty lemon at the bottom. As always, thanks for reading! Next chapter will be out in a couple of days. :> - - - - - - - -

CHAPTER IV: BLOOD AND BONE

On missions, you both kept it professional. Your first objective was always to save any humans in danger. The second was killing demons on sight. Third was seeking out the 12 Kizuki and Muzan.

Your eyes wouldn’t lead you wrong. With time passing, his aura trailed in a thin line. You slowly followed the trail. You needed your nerves calm and your anxiety dialed down to a 2.

“You got this, _____!” Rengoku cheered behind you. “Just concentrate. I have your front and your back!”

What a pleasure to have him on this journey back to Osaka.

“Nn.” You didn’t quite approve of doing what you were about to. ‘I haven’t done this since Lord Ubuyashiki took me in.’ You returned to that same alleyway from last time and where wandering eyes wouldn’t be on you. ‘This saved me from being killed many times. I survive on instinct thereafter.’ You gently gathered a bit of the aura in your hand and licked at your palm.

Your vision blurred as your brain scrambled to make sense of what it was seeing through this vile taste. You heaved seconds later with beads of sweat dripping down your forehead.

“What did you see?” Rengoku helped you up.

“Doors. Many doors. To… a different place, beyond our reach.”

Rengoku looked at you with concern drawn on his face. “Were you able to see past it?”

You swallowed hard as you tried gaining your senses quickly. “Yes. These hallways never end. They go on and on and…” His aura was honestly the worst. His aura made you sick to your core. “There’s a biwa demon lying deep within, and a corral of Lower Rank Kizuki.” You swallowed again and closed your eyes, as a figure formed in the center. “He must meet with them there. And even to them, he is menacing and dangerous.”

“We should push forward!”

You grabbed for his wrist, shaking your head vigorously. “No!”

“Sunflower?”

“If we were to invade by ourselves, our lives will be cut short. Just like--” doors opened and out came an arm of teething flesh! An upward slash crippled the large arm, splitting its burning flesh in two. “Flame Breathing. Second Form. Rising Scorching Sun.” You jumped out of the way, but this arm went on the offense towards you both. Both of you breathed in.

“Flame Breathing! First Form! Unknowing Fire!”

“Flame Breathing. First Form. Unknowing Fire.”

You and Rengoku blitzed in sync, damaging said arm until it retracted back through the doors. “Just like that.”

Rengoku caught you before your knees buckled. The aura was lingering in you. It wouldn’t be for some time for it to leave you. He wasn’t going to waste time on asking if you were going to be alright or not. He wasn’t about losing you here. “To the streets!” Rengoku dashed with you tossed over his shoulders, coming out where the crowd passed them by, looking at the both of you weirdly. “We have to return as quickly as possible!” Rengoku tried whispering to you as he set you on your feet. “I can carry you if you are unable to walk!”

You shook your head. “It will lessen in pain over time. Let’s head back as you suggested.”

“Right!”

You and Rengoku made the long trip back to the Demon Slayer HQ. You had one hell of a piece of information to tell Ubuyashiki as you didn’t even expect to come across anything this useful. And you won’t forget staring into the depths of moving flesh as it tried devouring you.

Being a Demon Slayer was not for the weak and weak willed. You survived due to momentarily gaining instincts to attack and live, but it was to Rengoku that you both got out alive.

You were certain now, more than ever.

Aoi gave Rengoku a hand by setting up your futon as well as preparing some tea in order to help you recover at the Butterfly Estate. She had never seen his eyes downcast and his brows so close together as he held you in his arms. “Please, take care of my Sunflower,” he spoke at a reasonable volume, “I shall be back in the morning.”

You tugged at his haori to gain his attention. “Warm me as you usually do.”

“With pleasure.” He pressed a warm kiss on your forehead and squeezed your hand with reassurance. “Goodnight, Sunflower.”

He left you with a sirene smile on your face and love in your heart.

The night grew lonely without your presence and it made him feel that he shouldn’t have left you there, but he wanted to be home with Senjuro whenever he returned, but what kind of husband was he going to be if he left his wife by her lonesome? He lied on his futon, conflicted while trying to go to sleep.

“I’ll just go back now!”

“Go back where now?”

The room warmed as your healthy presence surprised him. “Sunflower!” He didn’t waste a breath as he embraced and kissed all over your face. “You’re feeling better?”

“Much better!” You laughed. “I haven’t done that in a long time so it’s due to make me sick, but I didn’t think for that long. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s okay! I didn’t want to leave you alone so I had decided to make my way back to you.”

“But then we wouldn’t have any privacy.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and drew him into a kiss. As each slow and soft kiss progressed to lip sucking and tongue exploration, Rengoku unbuttoned your uniform while you untied his nemaki (sleepwear).

You trailed your fingers up from his Adonis belt to his neck. You lifted his head up and kissed him from his jaw to his ear. Your lips made a pathway over his chest, his abs, and to the tip of his erection.

“Let me service you.” Rengoku’s body flushed red when you began taking him in your mouth.

“That’s good, Sunflower.” His groans and hands in your locs always turned you on, but they paled in comparison when he looked down at you with lust filling those gorgeous eyes of his.

You held steady at his hips, sucking him sloppily, the way he liked it. You wanted him wet and ready when he entered you. You knew the moment he started stroking into your mouth that he was ready.

It took everything in you to not let him pump his worth down your throat, though you’d swallow with glee. You let him free, staring at your hard work before getting his nemaki and spreading it down on the floor. He needn’t ask as you got down on your hands and knees and looked back at him. “I heard this was a good position for…” you blushed. “You know.”

“My Sunflower is so thoughtful!” He leaned over you with his erection rubbing between your thighs and his hands roaming up to your breasts. He rolled his thumbs over your nipples as he sucked and bit on your left earlobe. He then kissed from your shoulder, down the middle of your back, and to your hefty cheeks.

He gently pinched and tugged your nipples which had you moaning lightly and grinding up against him. He grinned with excitement as he erected himself upright and positioned the tip at your entrance. “You have an amazing back. You know that, Sunflower?” He began praising. “Your legs are strong, thick and yet smooth, soft.” His fingers roamed down your sides and thighs. “I love the way your body looks and feels.”

Ever since he saw how others treated you, he found it his life’s mission to compliment you as much as he could, to show that the girl he saw was extraordinary.

Whenever your gaze fell upon him, he could feel your love and admiration for him every time you two were together. Your energy was unrivaled. And whenever you needed that shoulder to cry on or advice, Rengoku couldn’t help but love how much you relied on him to see it through to your success. It was all worth it to get to here, and speaking of. . .

You lowered your upper half and spread your legs open so that he could dive deep into your waterfall. “Show me how you feel about me, Kyōjurō.” If he could praise the way you looked down below, you’d never hear the end of it, but it wasn’t for here or now. Definitely after the wedding, though!

He groaned once he pressed a well-positioned stroke within you, feeling the walls inside form around him as they always did. He had to have you.

Rengoku grabbed unto your hips and thrusted into you like this was going to be the last time. “I love it when you call my name,” your fingers clenched tight as his strokes echoed out into the hallway, “When you moan,” your lips quivered, “When you scream,” a few soft “ahs” escaped your parted lips as he kept a strong and steady pace, “I love it all!’

He made his intentions clear as he hiked up one of his legs and sped it up. “Nnf! Nnf! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Right there, Kyōjurō!”

“Just like that?” He let up for a moment as he drew back, before plunging down to the base, hearing your voice cry out into the night.

You crumbled first, what with your body shivering from the pounding Rengoku put on you. He put passion into everything he did, with one of them being sure he took care of you first, but you wanted that feeling inside you, too. “Please, fill me.”

He did just that, his body shuddering as he filled your opening, a creampie. Rengoku gazed at your blissful expression with a smile. “My beautiful Sunflower.” - - - - - - - - - Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII (Part 1) / (Part 2) / (Part 3)

#rengoku kyoujurou #rengoku x you #rengoku x reader #kny fanfic #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic

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jupiterswlrd · 3 years

Text

Spectacular- mark lee

mark never intended on getting bit by a spider on his was home in the subway, he also never intended on saving you from falling in front of the moving train car either. it was all just some sort of sick coincidence. mark had never believed in super powers, yeah what he saw on TV and comics book was cool but it was never realistic. ‘someone just can’t magically change over night’ he thought to himself all the time.

that was, until it happened to him. after his little run in with you he went home and took a nap, shook up a bit on how well his grip on your jacket was, almost like his hands were stuck to you. ‘crazy...’ he chuckled drifting off to sleep. when he woke up his found his upper part of he bunk covered in spider webs.

“ew” he said quietly trying not to wake his roommate haechan up. ‘maybe if hyuck would be a cleaner we wouldn’t have this issue’ mark struggled to sit up something making him stick to his bed. he flopped all around his bed, webs confining his arms to the bed. he finally broke one and somehow tripped off of his bunk. he prepared for his body to hit the ground but something caught him. a string of webs wrapped around his ankle and attached the top bunk. he was confused, but he was mostly relieved. “mark?....” haechan opened his eyes wondering why he saw his roommate dangling from what seemed to be the ceiling. with that the web snapped causing mark to fall on his head.

“dude...” haechan observed mark like he was some foreign species. “did you do that?” he pointed to the the webs covering marks bunk. “n-no!?!?” mark looked at the younger boy like he was out of his mind “do i look like a spider to you?” haechan stared at him for a long minute. “...there’s a fucking web growing out of your wrist right now....”

“HUH?” mark flung his hand somewhere, flinching in a way. haechan grunted loudly his head banging aganist the wall. his body was taped to the wall with one big web. “MARK” he yelled in amazement and extreme pain and discomfort. “I promise i didn’t do that....” mark didn’t know what to do with his hands, he stuck them in the pockets of his shorts fearing himself and what he’d do. haechan eventually broke free, examining the web pattern closely. He had a thing for spiders.

“this is completely unique...your webs have a little M in them. we should take to these y/n, you know shes a science freak” mark completely shut down at the thought of you seeing him shoot webs out of hands. what if you thought he was some kind of freak? “THATS NOT AN OPTIO-“ then you walked into their dorm room, unannounced and unwarranted. “i heard my name from outside the hallway, why are you all so l—“ you were confused to see that mark was no where to be found. “uhhh?? i thought i heard marks voice”

“you di—“ haechan did a double take “oh haha, yeah we were on the phone he’s in the bathroom— he got stuck in the toilet”

haechan shoved you out the room nervously. “yeah so y/n, we’ll see you in class okay?” once you were successfully pushed out the room, mark was sitting with his legs crossed his head in his hands. “bro what the fuck was that?” haechan slammed the door and locked it. “what was what?”

“i don’t know your little disappearing ac— YOU CAN TURN INVISIBLE”

“haechan are you on drugs? you have to be on drugs only people with POWERS can do that and that’s not possible be—“

haechan clamped a hand over marks mouth.

“dude you’ve done the impossible for like 2 hours now, you have powers” the younger boy slid on his shoes and grabbed his jacket. “where are you going?” mark asked laying back down. “you mean where are WE going” he threw marks slides at his head.

“we’re gonna go see what you can do.”

mark and haechan went out to a abandoned parking lot. haechan was good at making something out of nothing figuratively and quite literally. “okay mark pick up that big ass tire over there” mark walked over to it, absentmindedly picking it up “this one?”

haechan pulled a clipboard out his backpack “okay superstrength...check”

after many trials and errors. mark and donghyuck found out that he was very agile, very fast, and very sticky. mark couldn’t go 3 seconds with out sticking to something.

as mark and haechan were walking back to the dorms, mark heard something his ears turned up as he looked around. “do you hear that?” mark pulled his hoodie up and walked a bit faster. “no what do you hear? is everything oka—“ mark took off running in the opposite direction past the parking lot, leaving his backpack and a confused Lee Donghyuck behind him.

mark turned the corner the feeling that was rushing through his body, it was more than adrenaline it was like an itch that so desperately needed to be scratched. he had to find out what that noise was. he found himself in the subway again. the same place his was now 24 hours ago. his head was now spinning the same place he was bitten now stinging more than ever.

his balance was off and his body felt weak. mark blinked harshly, the itch slowly fading away. but everything was fading away he slipped into darkness, passing out on the grimy new york subway floor.

“mark” a familiar voice called out to him. “yes y/n?” he responded, a swirl of neon colors surrounded him, his skin was no longer slightly tan it was neon red with some swirls of blue. he was still in the subway but it was empty. dead silent his own thoughts, and spiders the only things in the station. you were in the form a beautiful pink tarantula crawling all over marks body.

“you know what you have to do right?”

“what do i have to do?”

“save new york” you brushed against his cheek lovingly “save our friends, save me, and most of all” you had somehow reappeared in front of him crawling down from her own line of webs. “save yourself.”

“how do i do that?”

“22nd street my love”

mark heard that laugh he always loved to hear, then a sharp pain in his arm again.

“FUCK” he yelled when he woke up, surprised to see that it wasn’t the “pink tarantula” that hit him, but an IV going into the underside of his wrist.

“calm down mr.lee it’s okay, you had quite a scare there” a nurse rubbed his forehead “anything i can get you? some water? some juice you had a pretty bad panic attack there”

mark sighed

‘how am i supposed to save new york with anxiety?’

☀︎☂︎☀︎☂︎

“hyuck” mark said as they walked home from the hospital. “yeah?” he responded taking one of his headphones out his ear. “have you ever been to 22nd street?” haechan shrugged “yeah i’ve been by there, it’s nothing but some apartments...why?”

“i think we have to go there”

that piqued haechan interest, not in a good way though. “you’re not tired i mean...i know you have super stamina but you just had such a bad anxiety attack you passed out” he blinked “i don’t see how you’re not exhausted, fuck— even IM exhausted” mark shrugged and walked in the other direction in hopes to catch a bus, “you coming?”

“so am i like your agent or something” haechan said smacking on the lunchable from his backpack loudly, so loud that mark couldn’t even hear himself think. between the homeless people, the bucket drum line, haechan obnoxious chewing, mark couldn’t hear himself think. “OKAY JUST SHUT UP” he snapped, all attention on him. “oh— uh not you guys i—“ mark quickly became flustered looking at haechan for some help. “OH— uhhh, my friend here has a disorder. sorry about that” haechan rubbed mark on the back, watching as heads turned back to what the were doing. “thank god” mark sighed in relief as they reached their stop. “i feel something...” the same ringing in his ears was back, becoming quieter as he walked in different directions dragging haechan in zigzags along with him

finally, mark and haechan arrived at their “destination”. all it appeared to be was just a regular apartment building. “what the fuck?” mark huffed slamming his fists aganist the wall, accidentally triggering something.

the small alley way they were in between revealed a door, the two boys looked at each other in pure amazement as they jumped through. “what is this?” mark said in awe staring down the walls. “don’t touch anything” an older man said swatting his hand away “you’re the new guy?” he looked mark up and down “the standards must be in hell”

“hi nice to meet you too!” mark sarcastically said. “i didn’t ask.” the man simply replied. “follow me though.” the boys did as they were told. “i believe that we were all put on this earth for one reason, to wreck havoc and help when havoc wrecks things” the older man laughed at his own terrible joke. “that’s why some people their genetic code is different, they’re products of some very expensive experiments, and my favorite” he chuckled “wrong place right time”

“so where do i fall?” mark wondered out loud. “the third one sweetheart” the older man bent down into a mini fridge and got out something to drink. “so basically what i’m saying kid.” he slurped it loudly in marks ears “help when havoc wrecks, whenever it does”with the snap of fingers, haechan and mark were back home and mark was dressed in a red and blue spandax suit. a black spider embroidered on the chest. “bro? you look—“ mark raised a brow, thinking he was still in his regular clothes. “you look like an actual superhero!” haechan danced around the room. “i do?” he stepped infront of the mirror “oh— I DO”

“what should i call myself. tarantula boy?—no too weird spider boy? no too immature”

“spider-man” haechan suggested

“spider-man...” mark said to himself in the mirror.

“i guess i’m spider man...”

102 notes · View notes

viking-raider · 3 years

Text

The Immortal Sky - Part VI *Mature*

Summary: A decision is made for the next step in your and Henry’s journey, and the events that happen afterwards, will have lasting consequences for everyone involved.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 9,773

Chapters: I II III IV V

Warning: Futuristic!AU, Dystopian!AU, Language, Angst, Fluff, Dark themes, blood, torture, kidnapping, interrogation, imprisonment, mentions of past violence and sex

Inspiration: I’ve always wanted to write something like this.

Author’s Note: Tell me what you think! Thank you to @wondersofdreaming for being lovely, being my beta and putting up with my crazy muse! You’re amazing!

Even though you woke up in bed alone, you could hear Henry shuffling and rummaging around the room. But, you didn't open your eyes or move as you listened to him. You didn't want the magic that had culminated between you during the night to vanish, ruined by Henry forcing you to return to London with him, and starting another blow out argument.

That wouldn't end with another round of atomic sex.

When the room was quiet again, you rolled over onto your back as the sound of the toilet flushing filled the room and the sink came on. You sighed, looking out the bright window, the sun starting its slow ascent into the sky.

“You're awake.” Henry's chipper voice said as he came out of the bathroom, fully clothed. “How'd you sleep?” He asked, smiling at you.

“Better than I have in the last several days.” You replied, forcing a smile back at him.

“Same.”

He could see the conflict inside of you amplify so much more, and felt his heart grow sore. The magic was started to evaporate into the air between you.

“I don't want to rush you. But,” He sighed, carding a hand through his curls. “It's a long walk to where we're going, and only so many hours in the day.” He told you, fidgeting and chewing on the corner of his lip.

You hesitated for a moment, sighing heavily, before throwing back the duvet and getting out of bed. “I want to take a shower first, if that's okay with you? It's been a while since I had one.”

“Of course.” Henry nodded, hoping the hot water would help soothe you some.

Nodding, you took your previously discarded clothing and took them into the bathroom, softly closing the bathroom door behind you, just needing a moment of privacy. You put your clothing aside and stared at your fragmented reflection in the mirror, the tired smudges under your eyes and the just plain tired and melancholy shine to your eyes. Letting out a hard breath, you started the shower, and even though the water was still cold and heating up, you stepped underneath the icy spray, shivering once before just standing there and letting it wash over you.

Your body was so sore and worn out from walking and the ongoing situation, but you could also feel the throb between your legs from having sex with Henry; it wasn't entirely uncomfortable or painful, but it was unmistakably and noticeably there, none-the-less. The water finally heated up and you washed yourself the best you could with the meager options to do so.

“Yeah?” You called out, at Henry's soft knock.

Henry opened the bathroom door. “This is the only towel the room has.” He said, holding up the towel he had dried himself with the night before.

“Oh, thanks.” You smiled at him, turning off the shower and stepped out, taking the towel from him.

“Of course.” He smiled back at you, then actually dared to kiss you on the cheek, before going out again.

You felt a flutter of butterflies swarm your stomach at the warm touch of his soft lips on your damp cheek; it felt nice. Drying off and getting dressed, you joined Henry back in the room and found him opening his backpack, removing your shoes from inside. Smiling, he held them out for you to take, which you did, your fingers brushing as you did. The air between you and Henry was starting to get thick again, you could feel the anxiety inside of you start to grow, wanting to bolt and run for Bristol; Henry be damned. Henry was also on edge, trying to fight the feeling to grab you and throw you over his shoulder, marching you both back to London, to end this rising disaster.

But, both of you fought it.

Henry opened the room door for you and you stepped out into the hall, before going down the stairs and returning the room key to the front desk, a woman was running it this morning, the previous front desk clerk nowhere to be seen. Both of you paused at the hotel entrance, taking a deep breath and exiting into the cool morning air.

“Let me see.” Henry said, pulling out his mobile and bringing up the Runner map. “There's a supply store right over there.” He pointed across the street to a store front, the front window boarded up with plywood. “See if we can scrap up some breakfast.” He suggested, throwing you an encouraging smile.

“Okay.” You nodded, but didn't smile back.

Crossing the street and opening the supply store door, a soft chime of a bell as you did, the supplier appeared from the back, giving you and Henry a look, but didn't say anything to either of you. You roamed around the makeshift shelves lining the space, while Henry found where they stored the food and grabbed a couple of things, for breakfast and the trek. Going back outside, you and Henry found a relatively intact park bench and sat down, splitting a blueberry muffin and a bottle of water for breakfast.

Sighing, when the food was gone, you got up and turned towards London and started that way. Henry stared at you for a moment, still seated on the bench. His lips slightly parted as he watched you start in the direction of the capital city, he was thoroughly surprised by your decision to return to London with him, without him making you, or doing his best to convince you into it. It made his heart both skip a beat, that you had chosen him, but also stop, because you had chosen him over your brother.

Frowning, Henry stood up, he had already made his choice, a long time ago. So, he caught up with you as you continued to walk down the cracked and uneven sidewalk, grabbing the back of your elbow and pulling you to a stop. You turned to look up at him, your face was angry, but your bottom trembled with held back tears. Sighing softly, Henry folded you up into his arms and hugged you against him, letting you cry yourself out into his chest.

“I'm sorry.” He whispered softly, stroking your hair. “But,” He cleared his throat. “You're heading in the wrong direction.”

“I know which way I'm going, Cavill.” You replied, sniffling up at him.

“I know you know where you're going, love. But, you're not going in the direction you want to go in.” He clarified, pressing his lips to your warm forehead.

“I picked you. Mikey knows the bullshit he got himself into.” You huffed, frustrated you were even talking about it. “Made bed and lie in it, all that jazz.” You told him, rubbing at your eyes.

Henry smiled down at you, tipping your head back a little bit more and kissed you soundly on the lips, before putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you towards Bristol. “We are going this way, Nugget.”

“Henry.” You sighed, shaking your head.

“Neither of us will be able to live with the choice of just going back to London.” He replied, softly. “You won't be able to live knowing you could have prevented your brother's potential death, and I wouldn't be able to live with knowing you chose me and possibly resenting me for it, and I can't stand the thought of him getting hurt.” He explained to you.

“Stupid as he might be for becoming a Runner, in the first place.” He added, with a roll of his eyes.

“You're really going to go to Bristol with me, to get my dumbass brother?” You asked, turning back to him, and lifting a skeptical brow; sure he was just testing you.

“Yes.” He nodded, giving you a serious face.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” He retorted, lifting his own brow. “I told you, why.”

“I don't believe it.” You replied, folding your arms.

Henry narrowed his eyes at you. “You just want to hear me say, I love you.” He chuckled, seeing straight through you.

“I did.” You grinned at him.

“You silly girl.” He sighed, smirking. “Come on, we only have so much time to reach the next safe place.” He said, kissing you again, took your hand, and started walking towards Warmley.

“And, I love you.”

It had taken a while, and many things had come to light, but you and Henry finally made it to Bristol.

“So, how do we find him, now that we're here?” Henry asked, resting his hand on the small of your back protectively, as you both stood to the side of the bustling street.

“I have no clue.” You sighed, for the first time, you were starting to feel discouraged. “What do you suggest, High Marshal?” You asked, looking up at him with half a smug smile and half pleading with him.

Henry took a deep breath in as he looked around, biting his lip. He had been thinking about how you both were supposed to find your brother once you arrived, ever since he decided he would go with you to Bristol in search of him. You couldn't just start asking anyone and everyone, it would invite more attention than Henry wanted to attract, especially with people out looking to harm you.

“I might know someone.” He sighed again, rubbing the side of his tired face.

“Who?” You asked, blinking at him.

“Someone I went to school with.” He explained, taking your hand and leading you through the crowd. “He was once a Beta Marshal, until he was found to be letting Runners through his Sector, for a portion of their profits. He probably would have just been fined for it, if he hadn't attempted blackmailing an Alpha Cleric that was presiding over his case. So, he was stripped of his offices and banished to Bristol.”

“I'm just not sure if he's still here, or if he's even still alive, for that matter.” He told you, side eyeing a guy that tried to nudge him in the ribs. “It's been nearly three years.”

“Well, how are we going to find him?” You asked, pressing closer to him.

“Most people that held a high office that have been banished to Bristol hide in the lowest Sector, to try and avoid others they might have sent here themselves.”

“And you know all of this, how?”

“I'm a High Marshal, it's my job to know these things.” He replied, gripping your hand even tighter as the crowd thickened.

You thread your way through the Sectors, until you reach the unguarded and trashed gate of Sector Fifteen. Bristol had a trashy vibe to it as you walked its crowded streets, but the almost empty streets of Sector Fifteen were, by far, worse. The dark, dank and foul smelling air hung heavily in a haze, that made your eyes water and the back of your nose sting. You could feel Henry's body tense beside you, going into full protective mode, on high alert for anything out of the ordinary, for any possible and would be threat to either of you.

“Who is this guy?” You whispered to him, too frightened to speak any louder.

“Ramsey Kellan.” Henry replied, his jaw tight.

“Lost?” A raspy voice asked from behind them.

“No.” Henry growled back, turning towards the voice. “Looking for an acquaintance.”

“Oh, and who might that be?” A sleazy and rail thin man replied, looking you and Henry over.

“Ramsey Kellan.”

“What do you want with Remy?”

“That's between him and I.” Henry hissed, glaring darkly at the other male.

“I'll tell ya where to find him.” He answered, his eyes shifting over to you. “For a price.” He chuckled, showing a mouthful of black and missing teeth as he grinned at you.

“Or I could just beat it out of you.” Henry barked at him, his hand practically crushing yours.

“Hey, no need for violence, man.” The guy huffed, looking disappointed. “He lives over there.” He pointed down the street to a dingy building, over half the windows were missing from it. “Third floor.”

You expected Henry to turn and start that direction, but he didn't move, staring after the guy as he walked away. Only when he vanished from view, did Henry turn on a dime and started inside. You climbed the three flights of stairs to Ramsey Kellan's floor, looking at the name on each of the flat doors until you finally came up to the scuffed door with 'Kellan - 309' on it in black, block letters.

“Stand right there.” Henry told you, pointing to a spot beside the door. “Don't say anything or make a peep.”

“Why?” You asked, narrowing your eyes up at him.

“Because I asked you too.” He replied, heaving a sigh and looking at you, the pinnacle of his exhaustion showing through his blue eyes.

“Fine.” You sighed back and did as he asked.

Taking one more deep breath, Henry lifted his fist and knocked on Kellan's door. It took a moment before the door jerked open and a thin male appeared. He looked at Henry for a moment, his expression angry, before it widened with shock and horror.

“Cavill?”

“Kellan.” Henry replied, looking the former Beta Marshal over.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Ramsey asked, blinking at his former colleague.

“Looking for you.” Henry answered, folding his arms over his chest.

“Don't tell me the straight laced Henry Cavill has fallen from grace?” Ramsey laughed, thoroughly amused at the thought of it.

“Not exactly.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “I need your help finding someone here in Bristol.”

Ramsey's look hardened some and he shifted uneasily. “Who?”

“A Runner for Jaxon Quinn, Michail Keagan.”

Ramsey gulped thickly, his eyes shifting around, unable to meet Henry's stern glare. “I can't help you, Henry.” He mumbled and started to close his door.

Henry's hand shot out, preventing Ramsey from closing his door. “I know that's a load of shit. You've had the low down on every Runner there is, and I know you still do. So, you're going to tell me where to find him.”

“And what do I get out of it?” Ramsey hissed back. “Last time, I lost my job and my livelihood. This time around, I’d lose my life. So, what can you give me, Cavill, in exchange for the information.”

“Maybe, I tell the Marshal Council you helped me bring down one of the top Crime Bosses England has. Perhaps with a word like that, from a High Marshal with ties to the Cleric and Royal Councils, it could get you back into London.” Henry told him, keeping his voice low, but stern.

“You think you could do that?” Ramsey asked, sounding desperate and surprised.

“Only if you tell me what I want to know.” Henry told him, narrowing his eyes. “And if you lie to me, I'll make sure Crime Bosses and Bristol are your last worry.” He added, the dangerous threat dripping from his voice.

You heard the gulp and whimper that came out of Ramsey, you saw the sheer look of evil on Henry's face as he said it, and had to slap a hand over your mouth to hide your giggle, biting your lips. You were terrified and surprised by the pure authority Henry had pulsing off of him, even more so than usual, but part of you was also turned on by it.

“Come in, I don't want the neighbors to hear this.” Ramsey said, opening the door again.

Henry turned his head, looking at you, then motioned to the open door. Nodding at him, you pushed off the wall and stepped in front of him, giving Ramsey a tight smile as he blinked at you, surprised.

“Who the hell is this?” He snapped, looking over your head to Henry.

“None of your business, so move.” He barked back, pushing Ramsey out of the way.

You shyly smiled at Ramsey as you slipped by him, after Henry, who breezed into Ramsey's flat, looking around it with unmasked disgust. He turned in the middle of Ramsey's living room, tightly folding his arms against his chest, glowering at the former Beta Marshal, with screaming High Marshal authority. You felt sheepish as Ramsey closed his flat door and turned towards Henry, standing between them, in what could easily be no man's land.

“What do you want, High Marshal Cavill?” Ramsey asked, with smug mockery.

“I want you to tell me where I can find Michail Keagan.” Henry replied, the crease between his brows deepening. “He's an Adjutant Runner for Jaxon Quinn, here in Bristol.”

“You can't just waltz into a city like Bristol, and start demanding people tell you where top Runners are at, Cavill.”

“That's why I came to you, Kellan. You're already doing the waltz, so tell me where he is.”

“And if I don't?” Ramsey asked, narrowing eyes at Henry and rolling his shoulders.

Henry's arms dropped to his sides and he took three giant steps towards him, suddenly reaching out and nabbing Ramsey by the shirt, then slamming him against the nearest wall. Ramsey grunted, all the air left lungs as his back connected to the concrete wall. He was dazed for a second, black and flashing spots in his blood shot eyes, blinking rapidly to clear them away, and trying to focus on the rage he felt coming off of Henry.

“I'll beat your face in.” Henry hissed, his teeth gritted and blue eyes smoldering.

Your mouth dropped open, blinking at the rage Henry was exuding as he pinned Ramsey to the wall. It was no wonder that the blue of a flame burned the hottest. But, you were worried that Henry might actually harm Ramsey, and as much as you wanted to find your brother, you didn't want anyone getting hurt for it.

“All right, all right!” Ramsey squeaked and slumped against the wall, practically shrinking before Henry. “I'll find him for ya.” He gulped, frightened and shaking.

“Good.” Henry replied, his voice low, and moved away from him, still tense.

Chewing on his lip for a moment, before slowly sliding along the wall towards his coffee table, where his laptop was sitting, Ramsey flipped it open and sat down on the couch, he typed quickly, his fingertips clacking on the black keys as he squinted at the screen. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure everyone in the building could hear it, while you watched him work. Henry stood in place, eyes burning into Ramsey, like it would make him work faster, as seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours.

“It looks like this Runner is living in Sector Three, while he's being trained to be an Adjutant Runner.” Ramsey finally said, rubbing at his face. “With his handler, Knox Monroe. Who is a very hardcore Runner. I really wouldn't go messing about with him.”

“Why?” You dared to ask, eyes darting to Henry.

“Knox has brought in more revenue than any Runner, for the last five years running.” Ramsey replied, looking up from his laptop screen. “He was caught, once, and the Hernandez family bailed him out.” He looked up at Henry. “You know how serious they have to be about him, if they're willing to keep him in such an elevated state, instead of tossing him out of Bristol on his ass.”

“I do.” Henry nodded, his expression and body language never changed, but there was a small twinge in his stomach. “Where in Sector Three are they at?” He asked, without hesitation.

“Are you--” He started to protest, but stopped, seeing Henry's face, and took a deep breath. “Sector Three, block twelve, there's a pub there, the Black Bone. Knox frequents it often enough and I'm sure, with how close a handler is to their Runner, he'll bring this Keagan with him. All you have to do is use your special High Marshal skills and stake the place out, until they show up.”

Henry shrugged his shoulders and rolled his neck, processing all the information that Ramsey had given the two of you. “I hope you're not lying, Ramsey.” He sighed, settling a tired eye on him.

“I'm not, Henry.” Ramsey sighed, rolling his eyes at him. “Especially, if you can get me out of this hell hole.”

“We'll see.” Henry huffed at him, turning back towards the door. “Come on.” He said to you, opening the door and letting you step out into the hall first.

The man you and Henry encountered walked around the corner of a building, moving out of your sight, but peeked around the corner, watching you and Henry enter the apartment building he directed you too. Narrowing his eyes at the building, he quickly turned away and hurriedly walked through the streets of Sector Fifteen. Rudely bumping into people to get them out of his way, before he finally reached the nearly pristine gate to Sector Fourteen, flashing his pass ID at the guards and breezed through as they opened the gate for him.

Swinging around a corner and kicking open the door of a bar, he sallied up to the bar, slapping his palms to the sticky and worn counter.

“Gideon, where's Aries?” He asked and leaned over the counter, reaching beneath it and grabbed the neck of a bottle that was there. “I need to talk to him.” He added, sitting back and spinning off the cap of the whiskey bottle.

“He's upstairs, where he always is, you dumb-fuck.” Gideon, the bartender, barked back at him, yanking the bottle out of his hand as he started to chug it down. “So, get fucking lost.” He barked, wiping the head of the bottle off with the hem of his shirt and secured the cap back on, storing it in its previous place.

He smiled up in Gideon's face, winked at him, then shoved away from the bar, twirling on his heels towards the back of the bar. Yanking open a hidden door in the wall, stomped his way up the stairs and pounded on the closed door at the top. After several minutes of relentless pounding, the door swung open to a burly male.

“Fuck you want, Atlas.” He hissed at him, his lip curled with distaste.

“I need to see Aries.” The man, Atlas, said, licking his lips and looking back at him. “It's important.”

“Get lost, Atlas.” He huffed and started closing the door.

“Who is it, Danny?” A voice in the room behind him called out.

“It's me, Aries!” Atlas yelled back, grinning smugly at Danny. “I have some information you might want!” He added, pressing through the door.

“Let him in.” Aries sighed, slumping back in his high backed chair. “What is it, Atlas?” He groaned, watching Atlas sashay into the room, picking through the various bottles strewn across the long, black table, until he found one that was reasonably full.

“There was a guy and a chick, in Sector Fifteen.” He said, taking several deep gulps of the clear liquid. “Huge fucker too, and she was a teeny thing. Cute..”

“What's the point, Atlas?” Aries huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don't have all night.”

“Well, it was the girl, you see.” Atlas replied, leaning against the edge of the table. “She looked familiar, and I don't mean, seen her in the whore house, familiar either.”

“I care why?”

“Because, she looked like that girl you got a memo on from the higher ups.” Atlas answered, grinning at Aries with smug confidence.

Aries's hand dropped from his face and looked across at Atlas, studying him. “Danny, hand me that memo tablet.” He said, holding his hand out to him, without taking his eyes off of Atlas.

Danny left the room for a quick moment and returned carrying the black, sleek tablet and carefully rested it in Aries's hand. Aries closed his hand around it and the screen came to life, he messed with it for a few minutes, before sliding it across the table to Atlas.

“Her?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat.

“Looks like her.” Atlas nodded, bending over the tablet.

Aries snapped out of his chair and strode across the room, yanking on a jacket. “Where did you see them?”

“Sector Fifteen, they were looking for Kellan.” Atlas explained, twisting around to follow him as he moved around the room.

“Fucking Ramsey.” Aries huffed, angrily. “Get him out.” He barked at Danny and pointed at Atlas as he made for the door.

Aries stormed down the stairs, shoving open the hidden door and scaring the new patrons that had come in after Atlas had gone up. He paid them no mind as he stormed out of the bar and towards Sector Fifteen, hoping to get to Kellan's flat before you and Henry left. But, he knew by the time he did get there, that you both were long gone. He still went up to have a visit with Ramsey though, wanting information.

“Aries!” Ramsey squeaked opening the door and found him there. “How's it going, man? It's been a--”

“Cut the shit, Kellan. Tell me where she is.” Aries hissed, cutting to the chase.

“Who?” Ramsey frowned at him, genuinely confused.

“The girl that was seen here today, with another fellow.” Aries explained to him, his eyes darkening.

Ramsey blinked at Aries a couple of times, his brain struggling to compute what Aries was saying. Who was the girl with Henry? He thought, his chest tightening. He refused to tell him who she was, and he seemed seriously protective of her. She must be someone of importance if Cavill was so protective of her, if Aries was so interested in her.

“I don't know who she is, Aries. Honestly.” He mumbled, running a hand down his face. “She came with a former colleague of mine.”

“And who might that be?”

“Henry Cavill.” Ramsey blurted out, obediently. “He's a High Marshal for the City of London.” He explained to him. “He came to me, with her, looking for a Runner. A Runner called Michail Keagan. He works for Quinn and is being trained by Knox. In Sector Three.”

“There's an active High Marshal in Bristol, looking for a Runner?” Aries asked, looking thunderstruck at the notion.

“Yes, Sir.” Ramsey nodded, gulping and fidgeting in place.

“Hernandez is going to lose his fucking mind.” Aries replied, raking a hand through his hair and turning on his feet. “I have to warn him.” He said to himself, already planning on going straight to Sector One to warn Hernandez about it, and you being in the city.

Within their grasp.

“Mr. Hernandez, Aries Novak to see you.”

Benji Hernandez looked up as he hunched over his desk, arms braced against the dark cherry wood. Rubbing at his tired face, he pushed off the desk and waved his hand for Aries to enter, rounding his desk to drop into his high-back leather chair.

“You can leave, Johnny.” He dismissed his assistant, then motioned to a chair before his desk. “Sit, Aries.”

“Yes, Sir.” Aries nodded, obediently and quickly taking the offered seat. “I have some very important information for you, Mr. Hernandez. I'm sure it'll make your day a sight better.” He rushed out, a bubble of excited and nervousness energy.

“What is it, Mr. Novak?” Benji sighed, lifting a brow at the other man.

“That girl you've been looking for,” Aries grinned, making the Devil look like a sweetheart. “She's here. In Bristol, of all places, and with a London High Marshal!”

Benji blinked at Aries a couple of times. “That little bitch is here, in my city!” He growled, his shoulders tensing.

“Yes, sir. She very much is.” Aries nodded, smiling even more. “One of my men saw her and the High Marshal at a former Beta Marshal's flat not three hours ago, in Sector Fifteen.”

“Where are they now?” Benji hissed, leaning forward, hand reaching for his phone.

“Kellan said, he gave them directions to the Black Bone pub in Sector Three. They're looking for Knox and his new Runner, Keagan.”

“Why are they looking for the two of them?” Benji asked, narrowing his eyes at Aries.

“He doesn't know, neither of them told him the reason behind it, just to tell them where they could be found.” He explained, rubbing his sweaty palms on his thighs, being near Benji had always given him the shakes, mostly because he knew what he was capable of.

Benji picked up the black receiver of his phone and pressed it to his ear with his shoulder, punching the glossy numbers with the tip of his index finger. “Ashe, I want you in my office. Now.” He barked into it, then slammed it back down into the cradle. “Aries, get out.” He huffed, jerking his head towards the door as he got up out of his chair and strode across the room to a table of decanters and glasses.

“Do-don't you wa--” Aries started to stammer.

“I don't want anything out of you other than what you've already given me, Mr. Novak.” Benji answered, cutting him off, as he poured himself a drink. “Unless, you're withholding something more?” He asked, turning back to Aries as he brought the full glass to his lips.

“No-no, sir!” Aries yelped, the blood draining from his face.

“Then, get the fuck out.” Benji huffed, rolling his eyes and downing the rest of the strong brown liquid.

Nodding his head, like a broken bobble-head, Aries pulled the door open as a man on the other side raised his hand to knock. The two men gulped and nodded at each other, then traded places.

“Ashe!” Benji called out, sounding a bit happier to see him than he had been to see Aries. “Come in and close the door.”

Ashe gave Aries with a short nod and closed the door on him. “How can I be of help, Mr. Hernandez?” He asked and folded his arms behind his back, giving Benji his full and undivided attention.

“There's someone of great importance in my city and someone else that can cause some other issues with her. I want you to go down to the Black Bone pub in Sector Three. I don't want you to grab them as soon as you see them. Watch them, then when they leave, grab them and bring them back here to hold.”

“Of course.” Ashe nodded. “Who would that be, sir?”

Benji crossed back to his desk and removed a tablet from his drawer, turning it on and flipping through it for a moment, before holding it out to Ashe. “That's her. She was in Twist's warehouse in London, waiting to be sold, when someone came in to look at Twist's collection, picked her out of the line-up and purchased her.” He explained to Ashe. “Not five minutes after purchasing her, Twist's warehouse was raided by the Marshal Council.”

“Come to find out, the guy who purchased her was working for the Council. Ordinarily, that wouldn't be an issue, but being that she was purchased during a Council Raid, she's a witness and can fuck my family's entire operation in London. So, I had a hit put out on her, if she's dead, she can't testify. Which would make the consequences of the trial less disastrous.”

“So, you want me to kill them?” Ashe asked, studying your face on the tablet's screen.

“No, I want you to bring them back here and put them in holding.” Benji replied, leaning back against the edge of his desk. “I want to find out what I can from them. See, if they know anything about the trial Twist and his men are being sent too. We might be able to cut out a few more people from the jury and not take such a massive hit to our operations.”

Ashe nodded and handed the tablet back to his boss. “I'll get on it right away, Sir.”

“Good.” Benji smiled, pleased.

“Eat.” Henry said, setting a plate of food in front of you.

“Why?” You frowned at him.

“Because, you look suspicious and it's hard to look suspicious when you're eating something.” He told you, handing you a fork and knife. “We don't need any attention to be drawn to us, while we wait for Knox and your brother to show up. So, eat your food and leave the room watching to me.”

“You're the boss.” You chuckled, nudging his knee with yours.

You and Henry had entered the Black Bone pub twenty minutes before, ordering food and drinks, while Henry put his vast experience of surveillance and undercover work to use, taking regular bites of food and sips of water as he pretended to stare at the flickering tv screen mounted above the bar top, showing some sporting event that took place in Bristol. While his actual attention, from his peripheral vision, was on the single entrance and exit the pub had. No one had come in or gone out since the pair of you entered the half packed establishment. You had already done a quick sweep of the patrons that dotted the place, none of them were your brother or looked like the picture of Knox that Ramsey had shown you just before you left his flat, in Sector Fifteen.

“There's enough grease in this to oil a car.” You commented, pushing the food on your plate around with your fork.

Henry's face broke out into a massive grin, his shoulders shaking as he laughed at your comment. “We already know you purr like an engine.” He teased back, making reference to the sound you had made the night before, as he pleasured you.

“Oh, dear god.” You giggled, your face hot with embarrassment. “Henry.” You grinned at him, shyly.

“It's the truth, and you know it, Nugget.” He chuckled back at you, his shoulder gently brushing yours as he leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“You wag that tail, like you're a Puppy.” You teased him back, rolling your eyes at him.

Henry had opened his mouth to make a comment to that, when the bell above the door rang and the door opened. His mouth snapped shut and his body language changed from that playful relaxation, to suspicious and high alert tension. His blue eyes darted to the new patron as they stepped into the pub, a male, about Henry's own height, but slimmer, though by no means less built. There was an air about him, that Henry felt on the other side of the room, a professional air, but that could be a by-product of the life he lived before being marooned in Bristol. But, Henry wasn't completely sure of that, and cast his eyes back to the tv, as the man scanned the room.

“Don't look over there.” Henry hissed as you started to turn your head towards the door.

“Sorry.” You mumbled and took another sip of your water. “But, you don't like him.” You pointed out, feeling how rock hard the muscles of his side were against yours.

“I don't let anyone in here.” Henry replied, forcefully relaxing himself. “Other than you.” He added, the corner of his lip twitching up into a soft smile.

“Well, as long as that's true.” You chuckled, resting your hand on his thigh.

Henry rested his hand on top of yours and gave you a sweet smile, squeezing it gently. “Since I met you.” He whispered, softly.

“Aw.” You cooed at him, turning your hand into his.

Squeezing your hand again, Henry turned his eyes back to the tv, watching the new patron move from the door to the bar, motioning to the bartender and ordering something to drink. The longer the man was there, the colder the feeling running up and down Henry's spine got, making him shiver with worsening paranoia.

“Are you done with your food?” He asked, looking at your plate.

“Yeah, I'm done.” You nodded, pushing it away from you.

“All right, we're going.” He said, standing up.

“But,” You started to protest, but the look on Henry's face said it all.

Nodding, you got up and followed him out of the pub, trying to keep up with his long strides as he hurried down the street, before taking a sharp turn into an alleyway. You frowned at him as he stopped at a brick wall.

“Come here.” He motioned you closer with his fingers. “Take this.” He pulled a plastic room key out of his back pocket and slipped it into your front pocket.

You frowned up at him, shaking your head. “What are you doing?” You asked, getting an anxious feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Meet me back at our room.” He told you, lacing his fingers together. “If I'm not back in an hour, do not come looking for me. Stay in the room, don't answer the door, unless you are sure it's me.” He instructed you, quickly.

“Henry?”

“Give me your foot.” He rushed you.

“Henry?”

“We don't have time, so give me your foot.” He barked at you, gritting his teeth as he tried to hold his temper.

Gulping, you placed your foot into his cupped hands and he boosted you up, to straddle the top of the brick wall. “Henry?” You panted, your anxiety turning into panic, realizing he wasn't going to follow after you.

“You'll be fine, just do what I told you to do.” He answered, taking a calming breath and squeezing your ankle, trying to reassure and calm you, as he looked back to the entrance of the alleyway and saw the guy from the pub appear.

“Go now, I'll be right behind you.”

“And if you're not?” You gulped, hands shaking.

“I will be. Now, go.” He told you. “I love you.” He whispered, softly.

You glanced up at the approaching man as he started towards you and didn't look all that happy. “I love you too.” You whimpered back, then disappeared on the other side of the wall.

“Good girl.” Henry sighed to himself, turning to face the guy, his quick footsteps echoing off the brick and metal surrounding the alleyway as he rushed Henry.

Henry had enough time to tense up his body, before Ashe bull rushed him, sending them both into the brick wall Henry had just sent you over. Grunting as his back connected to the bricks, knocking some of the air out of his lungs, Henry slid his body to the left as Ashe's fist came out and breezed by his head, crashing knuckles first into the grimy bricks behind him. Ashe howled and growled, drawing back his scrapped and throbbing hand, ugly black and purple bruises already forming on the swollen and bloody digits. Taking his distraction, Henry jabbed his own fist hard into Ashe's unprotected side, feeling his ribs crack under the force of his blow, and making Ashe double over, then drove his knee into Ashe's gut.

“I do mean to ruin your day.” Henry laughed, grabbing a handful of Ashe's blond hair and forcing his head back. “But, you're not going to get your filthy hands on her.”

“I'm afraid to disappoint you, but we will get that wee bitch.” Ashe panted, hand reaching into his back pocket and yanked something out of it, pressed it to the side of Henry's thick thigh and pressed a button on the side.

Henry's entire body became rigid and trembled, his eyes losing focus and twitching as several hundred volts of electricity coursed through him. Clicking the stun stick off and watching Henry slump against the wall and slide to the ground, Ashe stood up, flipping the stick in his hand, then pocketing it again, before removing his mobile from his front pocket.

“Hey, Sully. It's Ashe.” He chuckled, squatting down in front of an incapacitated Henry. “I didn't get the girl, but I did get the High Marshal, and I'm sure after a 'talking to' he'll fork over where to find her.” He explained to his handler, giving Henry a gloating pat on the cheek.

“I know he's not ideal, but he's a fucking High Marshal, think of the shit he knows, other than where the girl is? Benji won't be that pissed off about it, we'll get her once we've talked the good Marshal into telling us.” He laughed, poking Henry in the chest.

“Sweet! Send the boys over. He's a beast.”

A few minutes later, a group of guys arrived in the alleyway with Henry and Ashe, flanking Henry, who was still out for the count, and hauled him out of the alleyway and into a van, before speeding out of the Sector, back to Sector Three, where Benji and his team waited to interrogate him on where you were now hiding.

Your lungs were burning, by the time you ran back to the room you and Henry had rented in the Sector when you arrived. You hoped with all you had that Henry would be there waiting for you to open the door with some witty remark on how long it took you to get back, with your nugget sized legs. But, he wasn't and your already throbbing heart felt like it had been sent through a paper shredder. You let yourself into the room, locking it behind you and paced the room, a million worst and best case scenarios running through your head on why he wasn't back yet.

“Come on, Henry.” You gasped, chewing your lip to bits and wringing your hands. “Please, knock on the door.” You begged, staring at the room door. “Please, please, please.” You whimpered.

But, the knock never came. Not an hour later, or even three hours later.

You considered going back out to look for him and half opened the door to do so, before shaking your head and closing it again, knowing Henry would be pissed if he found you weren't there when he got back, or if you ran into each other on the street. So, you stayed locked in the room, restlessly pacing or staring out the window, hoping to see him approaching the building from the sidewalk five stories below.

“He's fine.” You mumbled to yourself, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “He's just toying with me. He's just standing in the hall, waiting for me to bolt out of the room, so he has something to tease me about. Claim I'm not good at listening.” You tried convincing yourself, hugging his shirt to your chest.

“The jerk, he can wait out there all night, for what I care!” You yelled, hoping he heard you.

A stinging slap rang out in the air and Henry's scruffy cheek burned, like it had been singed by molten lava. Henry grunted as another burning slap connected with his other cheek, snapping his head painfully to the side.

“Wakey Wakey, Mr. Cavill.” An overly jolly voice cooed inches from his face. “Nap time is over.” The jolly voice turned sinister. “I think our sleeping beauty needs a little more help walking up, Emilio.”

“Doable, Boss.” A deep voice laughed.

Henry's eyes flew open and doubled over with a weak gasp as an iron blow struck the center of his chest, and the audible creaking of his ribs. He whimpered and moaned, a thick string of drool dripped from his lips. He leaned forward in the metal chair he was tied to, his arms bound by the wrists around the back of the chair and his ankles tied to the front legs, that like the back legs, were heavily bolted to the cement floor.

“Good morning, Henry.” Benji smiled at him.

“Ho-how--” He panted, trying to get air back into his screaming lungs. “How do you kn-now my n-name?” He gulped the thick saliva in his mouth down, his throat sore.

“I know to you, Mr. Cavill, Bristol is just a back water, shit-hole. But, we do have a great deal of the same technology you Londoners do. So, fingerprint identification isn't a foreign concept to us.” Benji sighed, shaking his head as he walked around Henry.

“Where am I?” Henry gasped, sitting back and flexing his arms, testing the strength of his bonds, only to get a stiff punch to the face.

“Easy, Emilio.” Benji called, patting Emilio on the shoulder. “We don't want to tire Mr. Cavill, before he can be so nice as to answer our questions.”

“I'm not telling you shit, Hernandez.” He growled, jerking his body in agitation.

“Oh, how intuitive of you to deduce who I am.” Benji laughed, stopping in front of Henry. “You must be a top notch High Marshal in London.” He smirked, taking a seat in a chair several feet in front of Henry. “Well, I know you are, I've read your files and your work history. You have quite the prowess for undercover work, used to be SWAT as well, before transferring to Homicide.” He said, reaching back for the tablet one of his men was holding, taking it from him.

“What was it that you transferred, Mr. Cavill?” He asked, scrolling through files that should have been private and sealed.

“Get fucked.” Henry barked at him, his broad shoulders straining.

Benji chuckled, then cleared his throat. “Says here, while on a raid in London's Sector Thirty, there was a shoot out in a warehouse and you were injured, almost died as a result.” He rested the tablet on the thigh of his crossed leg.

“I'm not telling you where she is.” Henry said softly, staring Benji straight in the eyes. “So, you can save your breath.”

“Oh, it's not my breath you'd want to save, Henry.” Benji said, lowering his voice and resting forward. “It's yours.” He grinned, his brown eyes lighting up. “I wonder, if that wound still gives you trouble?” He inquired, drumming his fingertips on the back of the tablet.

Henry didn't say anything or move, just stared Benji in the eye, his lips sealed. The Crime Boss could do whatever he liked to him, he wasn't going to tell him where you were, even if it ended up killing him. No matter how much pain they caused him for it. Henry would protect you with his body and his life.

“Do what you will.” He told Benji, resolved and at peace.

Benji's eyes darkened, realizing that he wasn't going to be able to 'sweet talk' or coax Henry into volunteering the information about your whereabouts. He knew it wasn't going to work, but had given it a shot anyway, hoping Henry would be intelligent and want to save his own life and a good amount of pain.

“All well.” He sighed, shrugging his shoulders at Henry. “Where was that wound?” He hummed, turning back to the tablet. “Abdomen, left side. Through and through—oh! It took out one of your kidneys! Well, it's a good damn thing you're a High Marshal with a father in the Cleric Council and a mother in the Royal Council! All that money, power and influence, so you could get the best organ transplant care.” He said, shaking his head and enlarging a photo taken of Henry, not long after he had surgery to treat his injuries.

“What was it?” He asked, looking up at Henry. “Organ donor? Organ regrowth or an Organ replacement?”

“What's the difference?” One of Benji's men blurted out, without meaning too.

“Well, you see.” Benji laughed, in an uncommonly good mood. “An Organ donor is when some nice and caring person donates their kidney to the recipient. Organ regrowth is when a large team of doctors and scientists grow a new kidney for the person that needs it, and organ replacement, is a device, made out of hardware and biological software to look and function like the required organ or body part. Think of it as the kidney equivalent to a prosthetic leg.”

“All of which are insanely expensive.” He added, then looked back at Henry. “So?”

“You obviously have access to all my medical reports, so why bother.” Henry hissed at him, unamused.

“Because, I want to have a conversation with you, Mr. Cavill. So, satisfy my curiosity.”

Henry licked his lips, his upper lip twitching as his anger slowly built in the pit of his stomach. “Replacement.” He growled out, his hands squeezing into fists, cutting off most of their circulation.

“So, a special, bionic kidney for the special High Marshal.” Benji sat up straighter, his eyes and face bright with wonder and interest. “I want to see it!”

“Sir?” Ashe gasped, head snapping towards Benji.

“I don't mean cut him open, you idiot!” Benji barked, the sparkle of his face dimming with his flare of annoyance. “The scar, you brain-dead buffoon.” He yelled, throwing the tablet at Ashe. “Cut his shirt off!” He snapped at Emilio.

Grinning, Emilio grabbed a box cutter off a metal table covered with various items and approached Henry. Sliding up the razor-blade, Emilio grabbed the bottom hem of Henry's grey short sleeve t-shirt and slid the paper thin blade up, cutting through the thin fabric. Henry winced, hissing and bared his teeth as the tip of the blade nicked the skin of his sternum, a thick bead of bright red blood dripped down his chest, disappearing into the patch of hair of his belly; the elastic band of his boxer briefs soaking it up.

Emilio tore away the rest of Henry's shirt and discarded it, as Benji stood and closed the gap between them, seeing the neat and thin scar above his left hip, a slightly puckered dot of scar tissue in the center of it, where the bullet entered. Pressing his lips together, Benji rounded Henry's chair and made him sit forward, straining his arms and saw the thick scar on his back, from the surgery to remove his damaged kidney and replace it with the engineered one.

“Fascinating.” He cooed, touching his cool fingertips to the burning hot skin of Henry's back. “I wonder?” He hummed, then promptly sucker punched Henry in the back, landing it squarely on the scar.

Henry howled in agony, arching his back away from Benji, the cut on his chest bleeding more as the skin of his sternum stretched. His breathing was ragged as Emilio jabbed his fist into Henry's stomach, almost choking on the air stuck in his throat, eyes watering furiously.

“So, it does hurt.” Benji laughed, pressing his fingers into the forming bruise and moved back around to see his anguished face.

“Let me punch you in the fucking kidney, and tell me how it feels, you piece of shit.” Henry barked, spitting at him.

Emilio clocked Henry across the face, opening a gash on his cheekbone and snapping his head sideways, making his neck ache and throb. “Spit at him again, and I'll cut your fucking tongue out.” He growled, grabbing a handful of Henry's sweat soaked curls and yanked his head back, making his scalp burn.

“Where is she, Henry?” Benji asked, pulling out a handkerchief and wiped the wad of spit off the tip of his shoe, before tossing the square piece of fabric into the bin. “This will go so much easier, if you just tell us where she is.”

“I'm not going to tell you, so you can do whatever you want with me.” Henry wheezed, glaring up at Benji. “Torture me. Kill me. I don't care. I'll never tell you anything.”

“Are you sure you want to play this game, Henry?” Benji asked, stroking his jaw as he regarded him.

Henry's body went slack and slumped in the chair, mentally centering himself for the pain and chaos that was no doubt about to rain down upon him. All so he could keep you protected, and god he hoped you were. Henry prayed that you had listened to him and went back to the hotel room, baring yourself inside until, and if, he was able to get back to you. He feared that Ashe had more people with him that saw you go over that wall and followed after you, tracking you back to the room, if you even made it that far, and were somewhere in the building he was clearly in, being tortured as well. His Adam's apple bounced as he swallowed down that overwhelming fear. He couldn't let that negativity breed inside of him or it would tear him down and he would lose to Benji and his torture even faster.

“I'm not telling you, where she is, or even where she might be.” He replied, finally. “For all I know, she's nowhere I'm aware of. She's an extremely self-willed girl, and doesn't listen. So, even if I were to tell you where I think she is. She couldn't be. She could be anywhere at this point.” He told him, almost smugly.

“Bristol is a big place.” He added, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

Emilio got a running start and the punch he landed square to the center of Henry's face, busting his nose and blackening his eye. Henry coughed and spit a mouthful of blood to the floor, his chin resting against his bare and bloody chest.

“Why are you and she in Bristol?” Benji asked, lifting a brow at him.

“To fuck your mother.” Henry replied, spitting blood at him, but came up short.

Picking up a long object from the table, Emilio swung it into Henry's stomach, and if the chair hadn't been bolted to the floor, it and Henry would have been sent flying backwards with the force. Henry wavered forward, slack and groaning in pain, shaking his throbbing head to try and clear it.

“I'll ask you again, why are you here?”

“Again, to fuck your mother.” Henry rasped, clearing his throat and licking his lips, tasting the cooper of his own blood.

Benji looked up at Emilio and nodded.

Grinning, Emilio dropped the pipe on the table with a clatter and retrieved his box cutter, his preferred method of extracting information from difficult people. The smallest shutter went down Henry's spine as he approached him, pressing the sharp tip to his jean-clad thigh. Henry growled deep in his throat, gritting his teeth and flexing his arms as Emilio slowly pushed it into his leg; breathing heavily and teeth tearing into his bottom lip, blood dripping down his chin.

“We can do this for a very long time, Mr. Cavill.” Benji said, crossing one leg over the other and tilting his head as he watched the blade of the box cutter disappear into Henry's meaty thigh. “Even after we find her. But, I find it curious that a High Marshal would go to such lengths to protect a Slave he bought, even if it was part of a sting operation.”

Henry blinked at Benji, the searing pain of the blade cutting through skin and muscle momentarily forgotten.

“Oh, yes. I know it was you that bought her from Twist. That you were the one that was undercover at the warehouse. It's all in the paperwork.” He explained, motioning to the shattered tablet laying on the ground. “The report your superior typed up after the fact, your own reports while undercover and afterwards. A high bred, high standing Londoner, with a life and connections anyone and everyone would die for, protecting some Slummer that was just part of the job.”

“Why are you protecting her?”

“Like you said,” Henry answered through clenched teeth. “It's my job. I'm supposed to protect her until she testifies.”

“Nothing more?” Benji poked.

“Nothing.” Henry seethed, his dull fingernails cutting into the skin of his palms.

He wasn't going to show or give away that he loved you, that would only cause more issues and add to the endless list of things Benji and his men could use against him, to torture and torment him into give you up. No, he buried those emotions and thoughts so deep inside of himself, it was as if they never existed to start with, building an iron-clad fortress around them and you.

“She means nothing to me, other than getting her to testify against you, then send her back to the hell hole she was born to and I can get my life back.”

“Well, if you tell me where she is, I can let you go.” Benji replied, regarding Henry. “I'll even have one of the boys drive you back to London, safe and sound, and you can go back to your job as a High Marshal.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Henry laughed at him. “My job is to stop you, and you'd let me freely continue to do so?”

“Yes.” He nodded, pressing his lips together. “All the Councils of London have been hindering my family's business for decades, and we're still sitting fat, happy and rich here in Bristol. So, one little High Marshal, like yourself, won't even be a thorn in my side. What do you say, Henry? Give us the girl and we'll have you home by morning?”

Henry leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with him. “No.” He said, softly, but with clear malice.

161 notes · View notes

neutron-stars-collision · 3 years

Text

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 23 - So Far From Who I Was

Masterlist; Chapter 22

Summary: As plans for operation in Stalsk-12 are underway, you and Neil can’t seem to find a common ground. His selfish plans overturn everything...

Warnings: Even more angst (sorry!!! swear it will be over very soon); swearing; some slightly dubious thoughts appearing in the reader’s minds but it’s nothing too serious.

Author’s Notes: Okay, I’m really sorry for the 10.8k, but it once again shows that I’m incapable of writing short things. This one is a wild ride and it was fun to write even if painful at times... I hope you’ll ‘enjoy’! Let me know how you liked it... and I promise... fun is near :)))

From that morning, when the precious intel magically appeared for you all to use, the metaphorical dice were cast. The last stage of the plan was officially on, and there was not much time to waste. After two days of chaotic talks, interrupted by training and trying to make sense of living aboard the icebreaker, you were told to meet with everyone else on the bridge for the official confab. Your war council consisted of TP, Neil, Ives, Wheeler, and yourself. And you were the first to admit that you had no clue what your job was supposed to be there. However, ignoring the deepening sleep deprivation, pounding headache, and weariness that has made home in your heart, you made it to the destination with time to spare. That morning the sky over the Barents Sea was overcast with heavy, grey clouds, increasing your internal melancholia and tiredness. Basically, life was hard. And you still contemplated joining the seals. Probably more often than any sane person should. But then you never really considered yourself rational. Sighing, for the umpteenth time this morning, you sat down on the sofa and relished in the solitude. In moments like this, without the oxygen mask making you feel close to suffocation, or the looming danger of losing your control around certain individuals, you were almost at peace. They never lasted long.

“Morning sunshine,” Ives marched into the room with a grin on his face.

He was one of the people you could tolerate. Still.

“Hi,” you cracked a smile of your own in his direction.

He took off the mask and opened up the laptop, preparing for the meeting. After a few minutes of companionable silence, Ives groaned, stretching his limbs exaggeratedly.

“The bloody bunkbeds are a pain in the arse,” you snickered at the comment.

“My condolences,” offering him a mournful expression, you stood up.

Wandering over to the panoramic windows, you took a moment to stare at a seagull diving on the horizon. Well, technically it was springing up from the sea, but you preferred to imagine the traditional way of things. Just to maintain a functioning brain.

“Not everyone is lucky enough to have a Prince Charming looking out for their comfort you know” the casual remark made you look up at Ives.

Sure as hell, he was grinning smugly, satisfied by how he has managed to catch you off guard. But that was not the most outraging bit…

“Prince Charming?” you repeated with a deepening frown, “Spare me please, I’d rather forget he exists” conversation was ruined.

Prince Charming, my ass. Unless those tended to be lying bastards that never knew what they wanted. Or terrifyingly beautiful idiots that should never be trusted. Well… fuck.

“Good luck with that” Ives patted you on the shoulder.

You knew that despite the nonchalance, he was someone you could count on. For a second, you contemplated asking him to punch Neil next time he shows up. However, all train of thought disappeared when the man himself walked into the room the very next minute. That same neutral smile on his face, blocking off any attempts to read his mood. His gaze slipped over you. A shadow of a frown as though your presence was not a pleasant discovery. Just brilliant.

“Good morning” Neil nodded in your direction.

You could see Ives hesitate as though wondering how much could have been overheard. You found that you did not care. Ever since your blunder in the kitchen, you came to a decision that you need not hold back. Neil never did, after all.

“Morning mate” Ives squeezed his shoulder in a greeting.

Before either of you were forced to initiate small talk, TP marched in, with Wheeler following at his heels. With the whole team on board, you could skip the awkwardness and begin. You took your seat on the side of the table and placed the dossier with plans right in front. That way, you could have an easy escape should it be needed. These days you could never know for sure. The first surprise of the meeting took place when you heard a scrape of the chair on your side, followed by someone sitting down. One look was needed to ascertain that it was the blonde bastard. Fab. You refused to give him any satisfaction of being caught staring and so you focused on the documents, reading the same set of instructions for the hundredth time.

“Do you want coffee?” his question took you by surprise.

Looking up into his blue eyes always felt too startling. Especially considering your history. But that did not seem to matter whenever your gazes met. That same jolt of electricity heightening your senses. Until you would look away again, Neil was everything you could focus on. On the periphery of your attention, you could see Wheeler prepare cups of the beverage in the small kitchenette. Right…

“Yes, please,” perplexed by his helpfulness, you gave him the tiniest of smiles.

In response, Neil only nodded and got up, joining Wheeler at the counter. That was surprising. Somehow you assumed that he would do everything not to interact with you like that. And yet he was willing to get you coffee, knowing full well how dependent on it you were. When Neil sat down again five minutes later and handed you the mug, you muttered:

“Thanks” your hands brushed for a millisecond, causing a minor heart palpitation.

Nothing new. He met your gaze again, smiling lightly. It was in the moments like this that you felt completely at a loss for words. The tenderness and attention felt like the old days, as though nothing happened. But it did. And it made no sense.

“Hope I got it right” breaking the silence, Neil gestured towards the coffee steaming underneath your nose.

He used to know your coffee order well. Unable to deny yourself the curiosity, you took a sip of the beverage under his watchful gaze. Of course, it was perfect, a spark igniting your body with energy. Ignoring the idiocy of the situation, you grinned at Neil over the brim of the mug. Conveying gratitude more than any words could. Judging by the glimmer in his eyes, he understood.

“Attention, please,” Ives’s annoyed voice brought you back to reality “You’ll flirt later,” you blushed furiously at the comment.

Shooting daggers at the squad leader, you focused all of the attention on the dossier again. Yeah…no.

The next hour was spent trying to make sense of the plans you all had been weaving since the intel came. The obvious parts were the facts: a deserted city in the middle of the Siberian steppe, the dead-drop in the cavern underneath the ridge, three ways in, and a lock, that was the crux of it all. The instructions from TP were ominous enough: no guaranteed way out for whoever would open the door. And that fact was the needed spark that day…

“So, temporal pincer” Ives summarized the last few minutes of the discussion, writing the words on the whiteboard “One team normal, the other inverted and they deal with the mercs. A splinter unit goes into the dead-drop and extracts the algorithm before the timer goes off” he added.

That was the obvious bit. You finished the coffee in one swig, feeling Neil’s knee bump into yours under the table. It was like this for the past hour. Sudden touches, making you wonder whether it was all intentional. Another form of elaborate torture. Or whether it was just Neil unable to control his long limbs as per usual.

“Kat is the backstop?” you asked the question, distracting yourself from the mess in your head.

“Yep,” jotting down the note, listening in to the squad leader, “That’s the simple stuff. What we need to figure out is how do we deal with that lock, and what about the splinter unit”

Fun. You skipped through the information again, hoping to find any source of inspiration in the materials.

“What do you mean?” TP asked, and you glanced up at him.

With the arms folded on the table and face frozen in a permanent frown, you could feel the tension radiating from him.

“They shouldn’t leave the field” Ives shrugged upon an inquisitive glare from the boss “It’s safer that way” the cold steel look in his eyes was foreign.

It was a terrifying realization that he was right. If you were to succeed, you had to make sure that it could not happen again. At least not in the linear sense. Looking around the people sat at the table, your heart sank. It could as well be that you were not coming out of this alive. Not all of you. TP had to survive if the story was to follow as it should. But for the rest of you, nothing was guaranteed. Enough to make the anxiety worse.

“Right,” TP’s sombre nod made you focus back on the moment “I don’t think we need to decide on who that will be this early,” he added, his gaze slipping over all of your faces.

Looking at the companions, you could see that everyone else was deep in thought. Mortality was never something you paid much attention to, preferring to stay sane by taking every day as it is and then moving onto the next. When you finished the university and started getting used to the idea that your future will be spent behind the desk of one of the governmental buildings in Whitehall, you stopped giving it much thought. Death would come when it had to, and that was it. But apparently not. Perks of choosing an unusual occupation. Feeling the stress levels elevate, you got hold of the passing thought. The damned lock that has been at the forefront of your mind since the news first came. Maybe now was time to voice the vague plans…

“When it comes to the lock… I’ve been thinking-”

“It’s rather obvious, isn’t it?” Neil’s interruption made you look up at him sharply.

What? You did not like the enigmatic smile gracing his features. As though you have missed something glaringly self-evident, and he was waiting for you to catch up. Impatiently, at that.

“Neil… elaborate please,” TP’s plea was dripping with tiredness.

Relatable.

“I’m the best locksmith out there” he shrugged smugly, ignoring your stare.

You did not like where this was going. Before you could find any words of response, Ives’s dry chuckle pierced the silence.

“Smooth, mate,” he added when Neil turned to stare at him.

“It should be me,” the blonde man pressed, annoyance seeping into his words, “Ives, you know that. Stop looking at me like that” he waved his hand at the squad leader.

The pieces clicked in your head. Fuck. He sounded too sure. As though he has already made up his mind. But…

“The person who opens the lock doesn’t have a guaranteed way out” Wheeler looked weary, as though she was scared about the direction of the conversation.

Exactly. The heart was hammering in your chest, slowly absorbing the reality. Figuring out the implications. No. You could not allow that. Even the mere idea was enough to make you nauseous. It was one thing to wish you did not have to deal with Neil, the other to consider that he would volunteer for something like that.

“So?” the nonchalance in his voice was terrifying.

He was still refusing to meet your gaze, but you persistently kept your eyes fixed on him. Urging him to give in. To be able to check this was actually happening. Because once Neil would lock his eyes with yours, you had a chance of getting to him. Until he said it to your face, you did not want to believe it.

“That could be a one-way trip,” TP voiced your thoughts, eyeing Neil warily.

You could see that he was surprised and concerned. Ever since they were stuck in the container for a week, a comradery has formed. Finally resembling what you were used to from them. But now Neil was willing to destroy it all. One-way trip. The ultimate sacrifice. No.

“Evidently,” another shrug.

That was the needed signal for your brain to kick back into action. To fight. Point out the insanity of the situation.

“Surely there’s a different way of dealing with this. We could send the locksmith before the splinter unit and-” your rant got interrupted with a sudden creak of chair to your right. Impatience.

“Why complicate something simple? I go in and open the door. That’s it” Neil flayed his hands around as though compensating for the tension permeating the room.

Wishing to dissolve it by fake excitement. Not on your watch. Urging your body to stop trembling, you garnered the strength to voice the obvious question. The one everyone seemed to skirt around for the past ten minutes.

“You don’t want to come back?” your voice wavered, betraying the nerves.

That was exactly what Neil needed to finally look you in the eye. With reluctance, he turned to you. When your gazes met, he flinched. Barely perceptible and yet there. Great.

“This isn’t about what I want or don’t want” you could tell Neil was just about keeping himself cool.

This could go either way. You found yourself on the tipping point, tiptoeing the edge. The fall never seemed so inviting. Almost as good as letting yourself drown in his eyes. Anything to ignore the reality.

“As if you knew what you want,” you muttered, aware he will catch on to the implications.

Neil clenched his jaw as his hand gripping the mug tightened. You have hit the mark. Top job. It took him a moment to respond. You could feel the gazes of everyone else fixed on you two. Their breaths were held as though afraid anything could set off the explosion. They were probably right.

“…Maybe you haven’t gotten the memo yet, but this isn’t about us anymore. If the task requires sacrifice, then be it” Neil finished the sentence with a hard look in his eyes.

Us? The emphasis he placed on the word made you blink in shock. On its own accord, your mind drifted back to the conversation in Tallinn. We’re just us. Me and you, was what he said back then. Only now, it was not that simple. Ignoring the ache in your heart, you swallowed hard, trying to find any traces of reason.

“But-” it was not meant to be.

Before you could add another word, Neil took hold of your hand, making you shut up. Shocked, you met his eyes, only to be paralyzed by the harshness of his expression. Your protests were not welcome. He has made up his mind.

“Darling, I appreciate the concern. However-” his tone was dripping with condescension.

The nickname felt like a slap. You tugged at the hand he still had in his grasp, cutting in sharply:

“How very patronizing of you” giving him the fakest of smiles, you added, “I had the illusion that you’re better than this… but well, as with most things I was wrong” a shrug to complete the insult “I still think there must be a way around it. There’s a reason why we got this warning” ending the torture of prolonged eye contact, you glanced around the table.

A silent cry for help. TP met your gaze, rapidly catching on to the desperation pouring out of your eyes. If anyone should get it, it’s him.

“Okay, hold on. Let’s suppose we do it as you say-” the boss interjected, putting all of the charisma into the sentence.

For nothing.

“Maybe the reason was that you need time to get used to the idea. Clearly, you’re the only one who opposes it this strongly” Neil was still looking at you only.

Cold blue eyes and lips twisted into a cruel smirk. That was the same man that fought with you on the highway in Tallinn. Terrible beauty. And yet, you could not look away, drawn by the gravitational pull that kept you tied to his side.

“What are you trying to say?” your voice sounded small.

The confidence was gone. The gloves were off. That was it. The explosion everyone feared. Judging by the way Neil leaned in closer, it was all part of the plan. Calculated and measured for the greatest impact. His knee bumped into your thigh. You froze as his nose brushed over your ear. Too close.

“That you lied to me a few days back. That you still l-” blood froze in your veins as you took in the meaning.

Before he could say the word, you hissed and lurched back.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the curse ripped apart the tense silence.

The pain was unimaginable. You felt close to screaming. Helpless. Alone. Desperate. In love. All for nothing.

“As I said, sometimes feelings need to be put aside. Whatever they might be,” you heard his voice as though from afar.

Enough. Releasing a long exhale, you closed the folder and stood up. That was enough. He did not deserve the sight of your tears.

“Now, let’s assume I go, open the door for the splinter unit, and… What are you doing?” Neil noticed your movement a second too late.

The confusion on his face was almost laughable. Pity.

“What does it look like?” you scoffed, pushing the chair back onto its place “I’ve had enough of this sacrificial bullshit and personal insults” addressing the room at large, you added, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the range”

You noticed Wheeler’s sympathetic nod breaking in through the concern on her face. Ives looked pissed off, and you could not blame him for it. You have made quite the show. Again. TP just glanced at you, utterly perplexed. There was no logical explanation for any of this.

“You can’t just-” attempting protest, Neil took hold of your hand again.

You knew the purpose behind that. If everything else failed, he was well aware that touch was your weakest point. That previously it always worked. Not anymore. You met his eyes, encountering nothing but annoyance and frustration.

“Neil” Wheeler’s warning was a welcomed addition “Let her go,”

That was all he needed. Letting go of your hand, he gave you a final look. Something shifted for a split second. But you found that you did not care. Without a second thought, you bolted out of the room. The very last thing you heard felt like the final blow:

“She’s being ridiculous,” Neil muttered dejectedly.

She. Just that. With shaking hands, you closed the zip lock.

“And you’re stupid. Sit the fuck down,” Ives’s command rung out in the air behind your back.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you ran down the corridor. Fuck.

*** That day you have successfully managed to hide from everyone. Wheeler came to check up on you in the evening to, as she put it, make sure you have not taken the shooting practice a little too seriously. You could only offer her your tear-streaked cheeks and reddened eyes as you assured her that this would be the worst state she was likely to see you in. Was that a lie? Maybe. To put it bluntly, after the morning nightmare of a confab, death sounded like an interesting option. Certainly better than another week of Neil offering to get himself killed just because. You chose 2 am that night to finally emerge from the cabin in the search of food. Without bothering to touch up your bedraggled appearance, you tiptoed down the corridor, taking one extra look at the door of Neil’s room. Why? Fuck knows. The silence was encouraging. However, that confidence was to be your ultimate downfall.

The moment you dealt with the airlock leading to the galley, you knew that you were not alone. Neil was there, chatting to one of the squad members you vaguely remembered from the days spent in inversion. Dominic, or something. Briefly, you considered turning back around and leaving as though you were never even there. But when the men turned, and your eyes met, it was too late. Luck was never on your side.

“Hi,” you gave them both a nod and opened the fridge before either could take a longer look at you.

“Evening” Neil cleared his throat awkwardly.

After a pause, the men picked up their conversation in hushed tones while finishing sandwiches. Mindlessly you stared at the contains of the fridge, hoping to appear occupied. To be forgotten. But to no avail. You could feel someone’s gaze burning into the side of your head. Somehow you knew that if you dared look up, the blue eyes would be there. Ready to analyze you. To find weaknesses and strike when appropriate. You could only hope he would not do it with Dominic present.

Fridge held no answers. You closed it quietly and took hold of the granola bar from the cupboard. Only tea left now… easy. They were still talking. From what you could hear, it had something to do with the inverted weaponry and the training you were all forced to recap before Stalsk. You thanked the gods for the presence of the buffer, as you not so patiently waited for the water to boil. The false sense of security shattered seconds later:

“Thanks, mate. See you in the morning, yeah?” Dominic rinsed the plate quickly and started to put on the mask.

What is worse, Neil was not doing the same. Instead, he was still sitting at the table, smiling at the colleague.

“Yep. Can’t wait,” the fake enthusiasm radiating from him in waves.

But it seemed like only you could see it. Another observation for nothing. Your pulse quickened as you realised that it was only a matter of seconds till you were alone again. And the fucking water was still boiling.

“Goodnight, Y/N” Dominic smiled at you before moving to open the airlock.

“Night night,” your response came out too breathlessly.

Crap. Just like that, he was gone. It was you and Neil, staring at each other like two animals locked up in a cage. He quickly assessed your appearance, taking in the puffed-up eyes, tangled hair, and shaking hands. You wanted to ask him whether he was satisfied with his work. But that would mean admitting how much it hurt. And your pride was in the way. The kettle switched off. Neil’s taxing gaze stopped as his eyes widened.

“Is that-” that is when you realised.

Fuck. When leaving the cabin, you have not changed. That meant you were still wearing the only article of clothing that brought some comfort. Neil’s burgundy sweater. And he most certainly recognized it.

“Neil I-” his name was the only answer as you struggled for words.

Neil stood up and pounced, closing the distance. The malicious look in his eyes was terrifying. And inspiring.

“Why do you have my sweater?” to emphasize the point, he took hold of the material, drawing you near in progress, “I didn’t take you for a thief,” delivered with a cruel smirk.

With Neil that close and acting ridiculously, you realised that above all, you were tired. And had enough of this. Of him.

“I used the opportunity and went into your apartment,” a tight-lipped smile thrown in before he could interject, “Yes, I know, don’t worry, I haven’t stolen anything else,” you added, enjoying the surprise flashing in his eyes.

He forgot about the keys. Or did not think you would use them after everything. And now, when he realised how much you knew, it was hard to accept. That was encouraging. You waited for Neil to bite back, letting yourself stare at him without shame. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes lit up. There we go…

“You know that you’re not making any sense?” he blurted out the question and tugged at the sweater “You just- You’re telling me that it’s all over and yet here you are, wearing my clothes” another tug, bringing you just as close as the last time “I mean that’s one way of confusing me further” he finished on a whisper.

It took you a moment to recover. To realise that once again, you were too close. When that clicked, you took a step back and met Neil’s gaze. Too satisfied. His pupils were darker than usual, and that was worryingly enticing. Focus. Anger was the answer.

“Confusing you?” a sudden idea struck, “Fucking hell, you know what?” another step back, “Just take it, and let’s end this discussion” you started taking the garment over your head.

“What- Why are you...” much to Neil’s shock.

Good. The cold air hit your body as you took off the sweater and threw it in his face. You were eternally grateful to your morning self for putting on that tank top. Not much, but still preventing you from the walk back in only the bra. As Neil scrambled to pick up the garment that fell onto the floor, you added:

“I’ll give you back the keys tomorrow” you met his wide-eyed stare with pleasure, “There’s no need to stare. You’ve seen it before,”

Yet, the way his gaze roamed over your body was fascinating. There was nothing to see there, but still, he seemed transfixed. You took that as your chance to strike.

“Hell, you’ve even had your hand down my pants. Twice” Neil flinched, and you smirked, “Talking about wrong life choices and all that” it was nice to see him hurt.

For once. Even if it was another lie. He looked lost, unable to find a response to something like that.

“I-” a pathetic attempt at god knows what.

You took a final glance at him there. Clutching the cashmere sweater in his hand. Hair falling into his eyes. Shoulder sagged. Defeated. Confused. Finally.

“Goodbye,” you grabbed the mug and left before Neil had a chance of recovery.

The walk back to the room was cold. But probably worth the pain.

*** Sighing with happiness for the first time that day, you closed the door to the cabin and collapsed onto the bed. For the past three hours, you have been occupied with training that Ives made mandatory for all the mission participants, and you were exhausted. The only encouragement was the fact that the squad leader made sure your shift was different from that of Neil. What was even better, he did that without you needing to ask first. Just like that. And you were very grateful. Moments like those last two encounters in the kitchen were best avoided at all costs. Any contact was ideally off the books. Even when it hurt.

With the sweater gone, you had no more things to hold on to. Well, apart from all those memories and the ability to read him like an open book. Utterly useless skills like algebra or functions at this point. You have changed into the comfiest set of sweatpants and a hoodie, hoping to spend the next few hours marinating in your misery. But long before you could even think of the first reason to cry, a knock made you jump up. Who the hell…. Grudgingly, you got up and opened the door.

“Hey…” you did not expect him.

Despite everything, your heart was naive enough to stumble upon the sight of Neil. And his stupid hair. And the repentant look in his eyes. What even.

“What do you want?” you decided to cut the bullshit, meeting his gaze coldly.

The visit was certainly unexpected. As was the fact that he seemed apologetic. Meek, even. Neil shifted nervously before answering:

“Here’s the sweater. You can keep it” he handed you the garment with a tiny smile, “It smells more like you than me now, but…” trailing off, he shrugged.

The implications of that statement were too much to handle. As was the fact that he gave you back the sweater. You gaped at him, speechless. It made no sense. But the silence stretched too long, and Neil looked even more uncomfortable.

“Okay…” you accepted the gift, making sure your hands have not brushed.

“I’m sorry about how I reacted yesterday it wasn’t reasonable,” he added, with that contrite tone you were not used to.

Unreasonable? That was one way of describing what happened the previous night. You did not know whether it was the glaring lack of confidence radiating from him or as something as simple as the fact that you missed him. But you could feel the resolve crumble.

“I’d say nothing you do is reasonable… thanks though” mustering a weak smile, you stepped away from the door, “You can come in if you want,”

Risky. And something Neil did not expect either, judging by the way he hesitated before entering the cabin and closing the door. You sat down on the edge of the bed and observed his awkward movement. A look around the small space. His eyes slipping over the few personal items you had. The sparring gear you have carelessly thrown onto the floor. And the bin full of used tissues. How humiliating. Then he perched on the chair and met your gaze wearily. Without you even needing to ask the question, he answered:

“I guess it surprised me to see that you’re using something of mine after everything” the honesty was strangely comforting.

For the first time since the disastrous mission in Tallinn, you could tell that he was genuine. Open for you to read and interpret however you fancy. That was intriguing. Enjoying the way his eyes roamed over your features, you leaned back on the bed. Relaxed. Sincere. You could try that.

“It surprises me too,” shrugging, you pursed your lips, staring thoughtfully at the window.

You did not have to look at him to imagine the expression on his face. A little concerned, extremely curious.

“How do you mean?” the soft tone made you glance back.

Sure enough, the furrowed eyebrows and sparkling eyes were there. Neil crossed his legs, studying you intently. You could tell that he wanted to know. That this was probably the closest you would ever come to a normal conversation with him. Might as well use it.

“Well, the heart knows best,” offering him a sad smile, you laced your hands in your lap.

Here’s to hoping he won’t turn it on you. But when you dared look up at Neil again, you were surprised to see him stunned by what you revealed. After a beat, he found the words:

“I thought you don’t-”

Of course. Unable to stop the irritation gnawing at your heart, you scoffed, preventing him from saying something so wrong.

“I never said that,” you explained upon his wide-eyed stare, “But that’s beyond the point, isn’t it?” you sighed, hoping to make him drop the topic before it would drift somewhere dangerous “Why are you here?”

You took a longer look at him then. Taking in the denial painted on his face. He wanted to press on, to get you to explain things. Not today. Then, returning your taxing gaze, Neil offered you his wistful smile.

“I suppose I’ve missed you” the sincerity of the statement was terrifying.

You felt a painful pang in your chest, as though the heart itself was awaiting the tragic end to this conversation. Courage. For a second, you wanted to cross that meter of space. To… Yeah, what exactly? One memory of what he said in the kitchen a few nights back was enough to sober up. You had to be careful.

“...right” the next words were a result of annoyance, pure and simple “Are you sure there isn’t anyone better? Because I bet there are at least five people aboard this ship who would give you everything. Without questions asked. Maybe you should talk to them” once you were done with the rant, you faced Neil again.

He was gaping, speechless. It seemed like his sharp wit was missing. That was only good news for you. A myriad of feelings passed in his eyes. You could discern shock, offense, heartbreak, and most surprisingly, something darker. Contradicting the very next thing he said:

“If I was looking for that, I’d never come to you. Because I value you more. But I don’t expect you to believe me” the defeat in Neil’s eyes was confusing.

But not any less than you were at that moment. More than what? A cheap fuck? One could hope so. But at the same time, considering the multitude of instances when he seemed desperate to get too close, it felt like a lie.

“I don’t, so you got something right,” you admitted, hoping to keep the emotions in check.

His blue eyes were fixed on you with intensity, trying to read all that you were not saying. After a minute of excessive staring, you were the first one to give up. The last thing you saw was a smirk forming on Neil’s lips. As though he knew that you were close to breaking. Close to potentially doing something stupid. Jumping up, you paced to the window. Nothing but sea and sky. And the damned birds. But even that was better than being faced with what you have lost. After a few days on board the icebreaker, you got used to the casual outfits he sported. What was worse is that they did nothing to make this any easier. It only proved the theory that Neil looked good in anything. Well, fuck him. Only not literally.

With the silence stretching well past the point of awkwardness, you grasped onto the first passing thought, turning to Neil again:

“You’ve talked about… me with TP, haven’t you?” it was a strange change of topic, but also something that has been on your mind for a while “Because suddenly he seems to trust me and I’m not sure what the fuck happened” throwing in the expletive, you sat down on the floor with your back against the wall.

Neil eyed you curiously. He was strangely quiet, and you wondered why that could be. Whether it meant that for once, he did not know what to say. Or maybe because he already regretted coming to see you. Yeah, probably that second option.

“Yes, I’ve explained a few things on the way to Oslo” the diplomatic tone was mildly annoying.

He leaned back in the chair, making sure to face you in the new dynamic. Only the nervous foot-tapping was a sign that he did not like the direction of the conversation. Interesting.

“Such as?” pressing on, you took a moment to observe him.

These days he gave up on styling the hair as the wind outside would always blow it in his eyes. That was rather adorable. He unzipped the pullover, shifting in the seat. Tension spilling out in weaves as Neil waved his hand dismissively.

“It doesn’t really matter,” another remorseful smile.

So, he must have said much more than just the basics. Could he have admitted to things even you were not allowed to know?

“Well, you must’ve said some crucial bits if he’s now so eager to take my side” arching your eyebrow, you met his gaze purposefully.

Hoping he will catch on. Just like the matter of whatever it was between you, the battle plans were a clear no-go in this conversation. But that did not mean you could not hint at it. He had to understand that you were not going to give in so easily. That his suicidal mission was not getting a green light from you. The bait worked. Kind of.

“I said things that you and I should probably explain to each other one day” Neil’s grin did not reach his eyes.

Oh. He must have read the shock from your face, for his eyes glimmered dangerously as he relaxed on the chair. Your brain froze. Things? As in what? You both did and did not want to ask. Instead, you chose to attack.

“We won’t have time if you sacrifice yourself” simply put with a merciless stare.

Neil frowned, not expecting that kind of a dig. Before you could taste the satisfaction, his weary expression caught you off guard. Could that really hurt him? The cold of the wall was digging into your back.

“Let’s leave that for the meeting tomorrow,” a silent plea in the blue eyes “I don’t want to argue,”

He meant it. The tiredness etched onto his face told you as much. You were used to seeing the same kind of exhaustion every morning in the mirror. You could let him off.

“Okay…” a solemn nod before you got up and picked up the pacing again.

It was a strange feeling to be with him alone and yet not close. You realised that this was likely the first time since the early days when you were together somewhere private and were not even touching. It felt wrong.

“How did you like my place?” Neil’s question was like a much-needed grounding.

Swallowing down the discomfort, you turned back to him. The innocence was just a façade that he has put on for your sake. He expected an answer, and you did not know where to start. And then… the way his hair caught rays of sunlight was an inspiration.

“It was… enlightening,” you relished in the curiosity reflected at you, “For starters, I never realised that this is all fake” crossing the space in one leap, you ran your fingers through his hair.

Just like the old times. Only then, Neil would not shudder upon the initial contact. It took him a longer moment to recover. You smirked seeing his stunned face and resumed the movement, separating the strands slowly. You had no clue why this was the fact you latched onto. Blonde or not, he was a sight. But the idea that he dyed his hair would not leave your mind like the worst of brain worms.

“Ah, you’ve seen the photos” when he finally found the words again, his voice was hoarse.

As though whatever you were doing had some sort of an effect. A spark of confidence. You tugged at a strand sharply, the gasp making you bite your lip hard. A dangerous game. The words you have been biting back begun to spill from your mouth:

“It fascinates me because you act oh so confident all the time, and yet you’re pretending you’re someone you’re not” glancing down, you noticed the closed eyes and pursed lips.

It was definitely working. Whatever you even wanted to achieve. It was nice to hold power for once. To call him out on the bullshit you had to deal with every day.

“That’s just hair,” Neil protested weakly, grabbing onto your free hand and encircling the wrist.

Unable to stop the emotions bubbling under the surface, you scoffed:

“It really isn’t. I mean, why? It’s not like you have to scrape for attention” his eyes met yours with defiance, “Unless you’re compensating for something. In which case, that’s just ridiculous” the hit came with a visible flinch from Neil “And ever so manly” you perfected the punchline with a final tug on his golden strands.

That turned out to be a step too far. Before you could sense a change in the mood, Neil used the hold over your hand to bring you down. More accurately, to make you sit in his lap. Your brain caught up too late. Suddenly he was too close, with hands settling on your hips, securing you in place. Fuck. You opened your eyes, cursing the moment of weakness. Neil was staring right back, his eyes unreadable and dark. You messed up.

“What are you doing?” too breathless.

He caught onto that, rubbing circles onto your thigh, focused on you. It would be easy to get up and throw him out, ending this madness. But you found that you did not want to.

“I’m not sure. Say a word, and I’ll leave. But...” he trailed off, searching your eyes for something.

A protest, most likely. A clear-cut rejection. When he found nothing, he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. So close. Slowly your willpower was waning. You placed your palm over his heart to feel the warmth.

“Neil, why...” unable to find the words, you stared at him with questions multiplying in your head.

What was this? Was it why he came? And why, despite the hurt he inflicted, you could not tell him to stop?

“Because you’re here. It’s all I need to start feeling like...” another open-ended response.

Adding on to the confusion. His heart was beating fast, breaths coming out shallow. With fingers still tangled in his hair, you urged him to keep eye contact. That was the only chance of telling whether he was honest.

“Like what? Like you could want me?” the words were hard to say out loud.

For a moment, you felt like this was Tallinn all over again. Like you were losing sanity just for the sake of getting something from him. The ever-present yearning getting the best of you. The only difference was that this time Neil was the desperate one. His hands roamed over your hips and thighs, causing worrying jolts of electricity. It shouldn’t be that easy.

“You know that I do,” a whisper, eyes overfilled with determination.

Did you? Now – maybe. Any other day – hell knows.

“Maybe once I did. But recently... I don’t think you know what you want. You’re just...” you offered him the honesty, absentmindedly running your fingertips over his temple.

Exploring all that was familiar yet missed so much. The creases on his forehead deepened.

“What?” Neil leaned in once again, nuzzling the skin on your neck.

The shaky exhale felt like a defeat. It was increasingly hard to think, let alone give him coherent answers.

“You’re not making any sense” that had to do.

Only it was whispered breathlessly. Not convincing.

“Maybe this will make sense...”

Before you could contemplate the meaning of his words, Neil kissed your neck, drawing out a shudder. One of his hands wandered underneath the hoodie. His fingers ghosted the skin. You have not realised how much you’ve missed it until you got it. As he got braver in his ministrations, teeth grazing over your pulse point, hands stroking your bare back, you felt intoxicated. Unable to do anything but pull him closer and let your hands venture underneath his black t-shirt. It made no sense. But as soon as a reasonable thought would come up, Neil would do something to make you forget. It could be a kiss right under your ear or fingers getting too close to your sports bra. Christ. No logic, just Neil being the sole reason for insanity. The heat travelling up your veins was getting too evident to be ignored. As he gave you a particularly forceful mark by sucking on the skin in the crook of your neck, you could not hold back a moan. It pierced the silence accompanied only by your shallow breaths. Neil froze as though he was not expecting a reaction that strong. His breath causing goosebumps all along your neck. For a second, you wanted to pull him even closer, to give permission to take everything he desires. Even without a promise that it would mean something to him. He raised his head, meeting your wild gaze with the darkened pupils of his own. The proximity was suffocating. Unable to make sense of your thoughts, you leaned in, hoping to get lost in a kiss. To buy some time before you would have to make up your mind. That is when Neil did something unexpected – he pulled back, with a strangely remorseful look in his eyes. Fuck. Alarm bells started ringing out in your head, harshly reminding you about the reality of the situation. As though nothing happened, Neil’s hands went back to the meticulous caress of your upper body. But you could not ignore the nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach. What if this wouldn’t mean a thing? Suddenly it seemed like the worst mistake you could make. The previous frenzy was quickly replaced with dread. Not meant to be. You retracted your hands from underneath Neil’s shirt and pushed him back. It took all the strength available to deliver the next sentence with necessary firmness:

“I think you should leave,” you hoped to hide the pain behind the schooled features.

If he was surprised, he was very good at pretending. His eyes searched yours for a beat, and then he let go of you. His touch was already missed.

“If that’s what you want,” Neil’s voice revealed remains of passion as he nonchalantly smoothed the hair you have tangled.

That was the cue to get up. With cheeks burning, you turned away from him, doing your best to cool off and keep the scraps of dignity you had still left. Before you could risk a dangerous spiral, Neil’s voice brought you back to the moment:

“Too close, wasn’t it?” you frowned at the casual tone.

He was zipping up the pullover, staring at you with startling composure. As though the past minutes have not happened. As though he has not marked you as his for the umpteenth time. It was terrifying.

“What?” you gaped, trying to collect the thoughts and keep calm.

“We got too close. And you’re worried because for a moment you wanted more than you should” Neil shrugged upon your quiet gasp.

He could read you too well.

“Don’t do that,” a pathetic attempt at a plea.

But it must have worked for his expression softened. A small smile split his face as Neil pressed the door handle:

“Just thought you should know that I don’t mind. I don’t have much left to lose,” a parting remark, and then he was gone.

You covered your face with your hands, falling onto the knees when the remains of strength gave out. What a fucking mess.

*** What you did not expect to be the hardest feat of all before the meeting the next morning was making sure that all the bruises were covered up. You did not need to add questions and human curiosity to the list of your problems. After all, it would have been obvious to anyone with a brain. You fucked up, and Neil was the reason why and how that happened. As usual. That was best avoided since everyone on your war council knew enough already when it came to your relationship. Or whatever the fuck it was.

As you walked in, everyone else was already on the bridge, spreading the materials and preparing the whiteboard. Wheeler gave you a welcoming smile which at that moment was worth more than it should. Any expression of kindness was at a premium. You sat down, and before you could process much of what was going on, a mug of coffee appeared before your eyes. Just so. A second later, Neil took the seat next to you without acknowledging your existence. Cool. Perplexed, you looked around the room, locking eyes with TP. He shrugged as though exactly aware of your issues yet unable to help. That much was enough to make you feel a tiny bit better. After a beat, the boss spoke up:

“Before we begin… Y/N?” his question interrupted the first experimental sip of the coffee.

Perfect. Again.

“Yes?” you ignored the annoying spike of anxiety upon being the centre of attention.

“Is Mahir going back to meet Kat in Vietnam on the 14th?”

Ah, that. The little side quest that you have been given ages ago with close to no information towards its purpose. Thankfully, Mahir cooperated. No questions were asked as you arranged for him to invert in London and travel to Vietnam to be Kat’s aide. That kind of smooth operation was a welcomed change.

“Yep, as ordered,” you offered the dark-eyed man a small smile, “Turns out I am capable of not fucking up some things…” that addition was a product of spite.

It was rewarding to see Ives and Wheeler crack a grin at your comment. It made you feel less alienated, as though it was only the man on your right that had issues. And he might as well be ignored. Neil was being helpful in his silence too, moodily staring at the papers in front, refusing to lay his eyes on you. It was painful, especially considering the previous day, but it also meant you felt more at ease.

“It would be great if we could agree upon a few things finally,” TP interrupted the silence, looking at you all expectantly.

“Can’t promise you that, chief” you shrugged, aware of the way Neil shifted in his seat.

His knee bumped into your leg, starting the irritating dance you thought you had moved past. But, supposedly, laying his hands all over your body yesterday was not enough for him.

“I know. But let’s try” you focused all the attention back on the boss “Splinter unit,” the phrase fell between you all like a death sentence “Who and how?”

“The tunnel” you picked up the map and showed it to him, “That’s what the intel said” taking the sip of coffee, you added, “As towards who…”

One of the sleepless nights has been spent wondering whether you should not volunteer for that. The logic was that there was a reason why TP chose you as his link with everyone else. It meant his future version trusted you enough. But it also meant you were important. In those hopeless moments, it felt like maybe that was the purpose. And if it would mean no coming back? So be it. Death for the means of saving the world did not sound half that bad. Before you could express the thoughts, TP spoke up again:

“It should be me” his voice was emotionless.

“Why-” Neil’s voice rang out in the room.

You glanced at him, noticing the tension and worry radiating from him. It was a strange situation; everyone could see that. You all knew that TP had to survive. After all, how could you be at this point if he did not? He had to set up Tenet, hire Neil, Ives and everyone else, prepare the ground for the operation to unfold just like this. But then, considering everything you have been told about temporal paradoxes… could it be that simple? Or was Neil wrong, and what’s happened could also unhappen, so to speak? Too much. Your head began to pound.

“I’m the protagonist of this whole operation. The reason why you’re all here” that was convincing.

And in any other situation, you would have laughed at the prophetic overtone of the statement. But now other emotions were more prominent…

“Mmmm, I’m here because of him,” you retorted, pointedly staring at Neil,

“Only, he doesn’t care” that is when the man turned to look at you for the first time that morning.

Irritated. Fed up with your bullshit. Lips pressed into a thin line. Eyes glimmering dangerously. Nothing new.

“What are you-” the sharp edge to his voice was satisfying.

Any kind of reaction meant you succeeded at pissing him off. Somehow back then, it was the best thing that could happen.

“Just being salty. Don’t mind me” you shrugged, making sure to pat his shoulder quickly.

Another tiny stab. Neil’s eyes flicked to your hand in a flash and then back to meet your eyes. You could only give him a deliberate smirk.

“Anyways… The splinter unit will be two people” Ives brought back the topic with palpable annoyance, “I’ve got an obvious choice on my mind, but I’ll discuss that later with some of you” the definitive tone would have made anyone shut up.

Not you though. Not when there was nothing to lose, and you decided that you might as well have fun with this mess.

“Why so mysterious, huh?” another quip, all to make Ives look up at you with surprise.

He rolled his eyes, showing you exactly what he thought of your new approach to things.

“We’ve got a more pressing topic to deal with” nothing to play with there.

What a shame. Mouthing an apology at the squad leader, you could feel the tension surge. The more trivial topics have been already mentioned and moved past. Now it was the time for big guns. For another clash of the titans.

“Precisely,” Neil jumped at the chance and spoke “The elephant in the room is rather obvious” his eyes scanned the space with a predatory gleam, settling on you, “I mean, look at her… she’s barely staying quiet,” a mocking smirk to compliment the statement.

Presumptuous fuck. Despite the anger reaching a boiling point in your veins, you refused to give him the satisfaction. To show how much it hurt.

“Her?” arching your eyebrow, you met his gaze defiantly “Neil, that’s a low blow. Even for you” a passing flinch on his face giving the power to keep going “But yes, I’d love to know whether you’ve changed your mind regarding some important matters” you addressed the room at large, searching for support.

That concerned look Wheeler shot you was helpful. As was the way TP hunched in the chair, burdened with terrifying possibilities of Neil’s stubbornness. Maybe you won’t have to be alone in this.

“I’m going in,” the blonde man shrugged nonchalantly, staring you down, “The only thing you can do is help us plan how to make it work,”

The strategy was to alienate you. Make it sound like you were the only one protesting against his idiotic plan. Well, not on your watch. Now was the time to put all those sleepless nights to use.

“How to make what work? Your suicide?” you scoffed, taking pleasure in how he frowned at the word, “If you let me speak for once, I’ve got an idea” finishing the lukewarm coffee, you gathered needed strength.

“Go ahead, sunshine,” a sarcastic half-smile, begging to be wiped off his face with a slap.

Maybe another time.

“What if two people went first to take care of the lock?” your voice cut through the tension permeating the room, “You rarely send anyone out without a cover. Because it’s unreasonable. So why this time it should be different?” that was logical.

The most sensible of plans you could come up with. Two on the splinter unit; two to deal with the lock. More likely to find an exit or, simply, survive whatever was waiting by the dead-drop. You also had ideas when it came to who should accompany Neil. But those were best kept a secret.

“Because losing two is worse than one. Even you can do the maths” the unnecessary dig made you roll your eyes.

He was ridiculous. In moments like this, you wished you had never fallen for him. But there was no point in crying over the spilt milk.

“Two have greater chances of survival,” you counterattacked, stating the obvious.

The truth he was so gladly ignoring for his purposes.

“You’ve got a point,” Wheeler chimed in, making you both turn to her.

“Thanks,” you offered the brightest grin you could muster and searched for more backing on the faces of the fellow companions.

Before you could analyse the grave expressions on TP and Ives’s faces, Neil spoke up again:

“You’re also rather emotional…” another insult.

Fuck. It was getting increasingly hard to stay calm. But that was the only thing to do. Another scene before the whole team was certainly not desired. You took a deep breath, fighting to maintain composure.

“Neil, stop” Ives was your saviour of the hour, interrupting with the non-bullshit attitude, “I think this idea is worth going over. It’s not like we’ve got anything better,”

You vowed to send Ives a bouquet of roses if you were still alive after all this. Or better, take him out to a pub. Nothing was settled upon during that meeting. The chaos of you all trying to convince Neil to listen to your arguments was only interrupted with him throwing more offences at you. Apart from emotional, you learned you were also delusional. And a potential loose cannon that was best kept away from making crucial decisions. You debated putting all of those on your CV and asking him to provide the references. After all, Neil was the expert when it came to your skillset. After half hour of barely held-together discussion, Ives told you all to calm down and fuck off for the time being. At least until you could decide on something without jumping to your throats. You doubted that was even possible. You were resolved to drive your plan forward. And so was Neil.

When the meeting was over, you were the first one to leave, hoping to slip out before anyone could stop you. You made it as far as the corridor leading to the bridge when you felt someone grab your arm, making you turn around. Of course. Neil’s steel-blue eyes were staring at you coldly. He was getting ready to attack, and you did not want to let him. Before either of you could break the silence, someone stopped in the corridor, and the familiar voice spoke:

“You two should fuck each other already,” you scowled at Ives’s choice of words, “Or break-up. I don’t care, only don’t do this again” he gave you a long taxing look, with annoyance brewing underneath.

You could not blame him. Only that kind of comment was too much right now. With cheeks burning, you desperately searched for words. Neil found them for you:

“We’re not together” dead simple with a tinge of anger to it.

You took a look at Neil, noticing the frown set on his face. And the fact that he was still holding on to you. Fingers wrapped around your bicep, just enough force to make it seem questionable.

“Could’ve fooled me” the squad leader shrugged and walked off before either of you could react.

Great start. Yanking your arm free, you asked:

“What do you want?” you made sure to make him hear the irritation.

That was against the plan, and you doubted your ability to survive yet another confrontation. From the look in his eyes, you could also guess where this was going.

“I know what you’re doing. All I’ve got to say is don’t,” Neil stared you down, keen on intimidation, “I won’t let it happen” no room for discussion there.

Well, maybe with any other idiot. You knew it would come to it. The moment when you would have to admit that your plan involved going with Neil. And there would be no debate about it. It had to be you. Reasons? Inexplicable.

“Tough luck because I’m not letting you get killed,” you counterattacked, meeting his intense gaze without reluctance, “Or go in there alone,” a pointed emphasis, to show him you meant it.

You felt like you could win this one. Maybe even walk away without the tears in your eyes. Just this once. But then Neil did what he does best – changed the topic.

“If this is about what happened-” he reached out to you again, fingers curling around your wrist.

There we go. You were surprised it took him that long to mention the previous afternoon. His touch and the bruises were hard to forget, but so was the lack of affection in his eyes. As though you were just another hook-up. Someone to seduce, get pleasure from, and then leave without a word of explanation. Nothing more. You deserved better than this. With heart hammering in your chest, you responded:

“Not everything is about you trying to fuck me, Neil,” it was his turn to scowl, as though the words have hurt him.

It was only fair.

“Who said-” his grip on your wrist tightened, drawing you closer.

But that alone was not enough to distract you from the denial he tried to pass as the truth.

“Please,” you gave him a pointed look, “That was a mistake, and it’s best treated like one” swallowing down the discomfort, you let the statement fall between you.

You wanted nothing but to forget about it. Brush it under the carpet. The marks were enough of a punishment for a moment of weakness. Neil seemed to consider something quickly, weighting the options, before he nodded:

“Of course,” the formality had the potential to drive you mad, “I’m glad we seem to agree on something,”

For a second, you contemplated leaving the scene. You knew he would not follow, too caught up in the grudges and apprehensions to stop you from escaping. But you wanted to have the last word. To put to use the ability to see right through his act. Neil was staring at you with eyes narrowed, trying to anticipate the very next move. You were sure to surprise him.

“Think I have figured it out though,” he arched his eyebrow in a silent question “Why you’re so keen on doing something that stupid” his face fell, you took a step forward “It’s that hero complex, hidden under honourable acts and philosophical bullshit” pulling your hand out of his hold, you advanced to intimidate, “You think you’re past redemption. That you don’t deserve it. But you can’t give up until you save everybody else. That’s just who you are” the sheer panic in his eyes was fascinating “Only there’s me. An obstruction” Neil swallowed hard as you laid your hand on his shoulder; nearly there, “And you might not love me, but it still doesn’t mean I can let you do it” you gave him a final sad smile, brushing away a stray hair from his pullover.

Yours, judging by the length and colour. A quirk of fate. You were too busy contemplating the fact to notice a shift in his eyes. Denial. Disbelief. Darkness.

“My god… you’re so stupid” the sharp edge to his voice was dripping with venom, “How can you not see it?” Neil was looking at you as though you were an idiot.

Wow. Fighting the urge to breakdown, you took a deep breath. You should have known he had not had enough of hurting you. Always naïve.

“… thanks,” you chuckled dryly, holding on to the remains of anger in your system, “First ‘emotional and delusional’. Now this… you’re expanding your vocabulary” his silence was deafening, “I wonder what will be next… expletives?” the next statement came from the depths of your heart “It would be much easier to just admit that you hate me, and we could be done with this”

That childlike belief in the existence of love wanted him to say no. To deny that he could ever despise you in any way. But the innocence had to be buried if you were to survive.

“I’ll consider that” the cold calculation in Neil’s eyes was terrifying. It was truly over. Even if your heart felt like it was being ripped out. The edges of your vision were blurring, eyes burning with tears begging to be released. Not yet.

“Fab,” you brushed away the strand that was falling into his eyes, “As a final note… I admit that the worst mistake I have ever made was allowing myself to believe you’re worth it”

It was not exactly the truth. But the tiniest moment of passing shock in his eyes was a good enough response. For a second, Neil was speechless, stunned by your harsh words and the way you caressed his face. One last guilty pleasure.

“I’m glad you’re acknowledging it” his face split in an attempt at a smile.

It was broken. Dishonest. There was something fascinating in him at that very moment. The set jaw, eyes cold as ice; yours, but not at all. The beautiful and damned. Gently, you ran your fingers over his stubble, hoping to memorise his face in every way possible. The intensity of his gaze was beginning to drive you insane, offering eternal suffering if you were to make the smallest mistake. Never again.

“The cruelty looks good on you” you zipped up his pullover in one smooth motion and turned away.

The searing pain in your chest was the needed punchline.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #neil x reader #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

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