#neil tenet imagine

[neutron-stars-collision]

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 4 - North Greenwich Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 3 Summary: Neil's brief disappearance does nothing to extinguish the sparks. As he returns, you make a series of discoveries about each other and grow ever so much closer. Warnings: Swearing, E-rated language, ridiculous amounts of flirting as per usual. Buckle up bc we're amping the pace a little... ;) Author's Notes: Well... that was a long break between the chapters 🙈 My apologies, turns out that having a job takes away the little joys in life like writing silly stories. Anyways, here we are, at last. With another 10.7k. And this one's packed with many good, fun things ;))) Some of those scenes had been months in the making (if not years, considering I first mentioned this AU to Shet in like 2021? I think?). So, yeah. They had it long time coming. More cameos, more nonsensical POV changes and, above all, more certified idiocy by them two kids. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think? 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

What Neil’s departure from London did not do was change the way things worked between you. Although you only had meagre information about his whereabouts (such as that he was within the same time zone but in a different country), there was no sense of a breach building in the space of that strange yet solid connection. With the anxieties surrounding the imminent ‘Don Quixote’ premiere keeping your blood pressure high daily, you more than enjoyed being able to pick up your phone and message him whenever possible.

He did not always respond immediately, but it was not a must. What mattered was that Neil eventually got back to you. Never disclosing any information about his work trip, apart from the fact that it was warm there even in mid-October, he still made the effort to keep up with your antics. In that sense, the insanity of the date you had risked changed absolutely nothing.

But it also changed everything.

It was as if your free will chose to conspire with the soul’s desires to get what they wanted. Namely – Neil. Because as soon as you had even begun considering breaching the line separating friendship from every other kind of relationship, your brain decided it was done.

Being his girlfriend was not on the list of priorities or wants, but getting in his pants definitely was. It was almost freeing to admit.

The only question left after all that soul-searching was whether Neil wanted you like that, too. Sometimes there were no doubts about that, either.

Almost a week in, with the ballet previews looming on the horizon and no chance of sleep anytime soon, you huffed an annoyed sigh and picked up the phone from your bedside table. Bleary eyes registered the hour (five past midnight) as you opened apps randomly, already giving up on the promise of sleep. It took you another few minutes to make up your mind, open the texts and stare at the conversation with Neil. It had been a few hours since the last exchange concerning the warmth of the climate wherever he was. You had been (fruitlessly) trying to make Neil send you a picture. Of himself. Not necessarily without clothes, but that was the dream. And a girl was allowed to dream, right?

Squinting at the screen, you hesitated for another millisecond before typing out the simple question:

/ 🏹, 00:15 am/ Are you missing me yet?

Neil did not make you wait for long.

/✝️, 00:26 am/ Obviously.

/✝️, 00:26 am/ I’m barely coping here, sunshine.

/ 🏹, 00:29 am/ Gee, you’re making it too easy.

/✝️, 00:30 am/ Making what too easy?

/ 🏹, 00:33 am/ Missing you.

/ 🏹, 00:34 am/ See, I thought my cheeky line would get a lukewarm response, so I was prepared to tease you further.

/ 🏹, 00:34 am/ And now I’ve no quips to offer.

/✝️, 00:39 am/ Apologies. I’ll do better next time.

/ 🏹, 00:40 am/ I’ll make sure of that.

/✝️, 00:42 am/ And what punishment do you propose?

/ 🏹, 00:43 am/ I’ve always wondered what you’d sound like if you begged.

/✝️, 00:44 am/ It could probably be arranged.

/✝️, 00:45 am/ I’ve no qualms about getting on my knees for a beautiful woman.

/✝️, 00:45 am/ But that would hardly be a punishment.

/ 🏹, 00:48 am/ Yeah, but if I let you have that and then left you… on your knees, so painfully hard with no release… How would that feel?

/✝️, 00:51 am/ You win this one.

/✝️, 00:52 am/ And yes, I’m blushing. Fiercely.

/ 🏹, 00:59 am/ Good, I was hoping you are. Goodnight, Neil.

As you hit send on the last message, your head hit the pillows with an audible ‘oof’. Your cheeks burned; the blush invisible in the dark yet still very much there. That was the problem with Neil and your chats. It was impossible to say when they would turn in that direction. When you would both lose control and follow a line of conversation that probably never should have happened. Not that you were complaining.

It was good to know what you could expect from Neil. If things happened the way you wished, they would. Admittedly, he’d look good on his knees. That was a fact.

That night you only got five hours of sleep, but who counted it anyway. What mattered was that you had some excellent dreams. Dreams that you hoped would end up prophetic.

On other days, your conversations were a little more serious. Like that early afternoon when you just finished the final in-costume run of the Cupid variation and exited the ROH to wander the streets of Soho. Whenever you felt close to losing your sanity, the walk around those familiar spots always did the trick. It was easier to breathe, to hope that you would not fuck it all up when the curtain call came. To believe that imposter syndrome was nothing more than a vile bitch.

Sighing against the thoughts muddling your brain, you took out the phone and immediately noticed the new message:

/✝️, 1:49 pm/ How’s the garden of the Dryads coming along?

/✝️, 1:50 pm/ It probably goes without saying that you’re my favourite ballerina.

/ 🏹, 2:06 pm/ Damn, that’s high praise. Especially considering that I’m the only ballerina you know.

/ 🏹, 2:06 pm/ I think the garden is coming along nicely. Not so sure about Cupid, tho.

/✝️, 2:08 pm/ I call bullshit on that.

/✝️, 2:09 pm/ I just know that you’re brilliant.

/ 🏹, 2:12 pm/ Doubt, she said.

/ 🏹, 2:12 pm/ ‘Cause like… How do you deal with the overwhelming weight of expectations?

/✝️, 2:18 pm/ I mean, I panic and lose it instantly, but generally speaking, I think you just sort of… ignore it and trust you are good enough.

/✝️, 2:19 pm/ I know that you are, Cupid. This role was made for you.

/ 🏹, 2:22 pm/ Elaborate, please. I need my ego stroked.

/✝️, 2:23 pm/ Well, she sorts of saunters onto the stage and has a minute to dazzle everyone, yeah?

/✝️, 2:24 pm/ Which is exactly what you did to me.

/✝️, 2:24 pm/ You’ve got this.

/ 🏹, 2:26 pm/ God, you’re irreconcilable. Better come back so I can force you to sit through this.

/✝️, 2:27 pm/ Working on it as we speak.

A smile painted itself on your face with an inerasable stroke of brush. Neil’s constant support and cheerleading were a welcome surprise. Sometimes, your meeting almost felt like a divine intervention. That is if you believed in such things. Because the odds of gaining both a fascinating man to pursue and a friend were quite low. And yet.

As you looped your steps back towards Covent Garden, you made the mental note to visit the box office and add a request for the guest list. It was a rare enough event to have someone you could invite to the performance. And have the right to believe they would come. You were not going to squander that sort of chance.

***

The whirring ceiling fan was starting to get on his nerves with its endless sputtering. And it was not even working, as far as Neil was concerned. The sweat still clung to his skin and trickled down his back to a point where he seriously contemplated ditching the shirt. And that rarely happened. Especially not on the job, with the whole squad confined to a medium-sized safehouse.

The bustle of the city streamed through the windows, cracked open so they could let in fresh air while still having a chance of keeping them safe from snipers and the like. Granted, one could never be fully prepared for an inverted shot, but it was worth trying not to get killed. Especially during a mission that technically was just a recon. Though Neil knew better than to believe The Protagonist when the man claimed something was perfectly safe. He meant well, sure. But despite the appearances, he did not know everything.

So, the windows cracked open three inches had to do. Neil sighed, annoyance digging deep beneath his skin to stay there for a little longer. It was another one of those boring, yet technically productive afternoons in the safehouse. Today, the task was to plan a hypothetical pincer movement. Just in case, they said. Well, Neil sure did hope the case never came to be.

He glanced at the blacked-out screen of his phone, the muscle memory betraying him as he picked up the device almost mindlessly and opened the conversation with Cupid. It had been a few hours since the last chat, which was pretty usual. They did not need to talk all the time. Neil knew that. He also knew that it was probably better they did not talk constantly. Considering that 3 out of 5 conversations always ended up dirty, up to the point where he was blushing like an idiot. And, sometimes disappeared in the bathroom to deal with some troublesome effects of those chats.

Yes, considering all that, Neil knew it was best they took some breaks. But also-

“Blondie, can you give us a hand with this?” the yell from further inside the apartment acted like a bucket of cold water tipped over his head unceremoniously.

Neil whipped his head up, glaring at the open doorway. Unfortunately, being referred to as ‘blondie’ was becoming more frequent. The petulant nature urged him to ignore it, but he knew that was hardly the last one. With another long-suffering sigh, he heaved himself out of the armchair and called back:

“I said I’m coming,” granted, that was over fifteen minutes ago, but everyone could get distracted. Right? “Would it hurt you to ask nicer?” he stalked down the corridor toward the living area with an arched eyebrow.

It was not surprising to meet a mirroring expression on the faces of Ives, Wheeler, and Jeremy sitting in a trifecta of judgment. Neil had no doubts about his place in that makeshift courtroom.

“Yes, when you’re slacking,” Wheeler dropped the disapproving glare with all the air of nonchalance and pointedly glanced at the table covered with maps and blueprints.

Neil had no choice but to sit down in the remaining chair and offer an apologetic pout to anyone willing to hear him out:

“I’m not slacking. I’m just-” whatever excuse he could whip out on a whim got interrupted prematurely.

“Otherwise occupied with your girlfriend. Yes, we know,” Wheeler raised her head once more with a dismissive wave of hand, making Neil consider the possibility that she was close to losing it right there and then.

That possibility was always worrisome, for no anger could compare to that of his friend. Especially when she was pissed off.

But that careful consideration was nothing in the face of the two realisations brought forward by that simple assumption. Firstly - Cupid was decidedly not his girlfriend. Secondly – fucking Ives.

Neil glared at the man in question, hoping his eyes would reveal the murderous intents hidden underneath as his clarifying statement broke the awkward silence:

“She’s not-” he never finished that sentence (perhaps for the better), for the harsh sound of his ringtone filled the room with cacophonic clamour. Neil scrambled to pick up the phone without as much as glancing at the screen, “Hello?” the tentative opener sounded ridiculous even to his ears.

Soon, it was clear he should have checked the caller before picking up.

“Hi, Neil,” Cupid’s silky tone caressed his ear through the device.

Neil knew she did that purposefully, solely inspired to make the idiot inside him blush and giggle like a loser. Make no mistake; Neil was certainly a loser. And an idiot.

Once he felt the shock pass enough to ensure he would not drop the phone he repeated the greeting.

“Umm, hi,” from the corner of his eye, Neil could see the accompanying trio stare at him without trying to be covert about it. Absolute assholes “You’ve never called me before” trust him to state the obvious.

For a second, Neil considered faceplanting onto the table. Equally, the idea of jumping out of the window sounded appealing. The thoughts of potential demise were interrupted by Cupid’s reply:

“I know. I just thought it might be fun to spice things up,” she was definitely enjoying this and the damage she has caused. It was audible in the lightness of her voice, the vowels curled by a cheeky smile he could hear as she asked, “How’s your day?”

No longer happy to ignore his audience, Neil turned towards them with another glare. All three stared back, with Ives going as far as shooting him a knowing smile.

“It’s fine, except for my team being desperate to berate me,” Neil directed the venom in his voice at the trio as Wheeler casually got up from the table and put the kettle on.

The light chuckle from the phone almost made him feel better about it.

“That’s rude,” her remark contrasted with the laughter he could hear in her voice. Yet it was too late to raise the alarm or prepare for what would follow, “Would it be better if I reminded you what a good boy you are?” as soon as Cupid finished the question, Neil felt the full-body reaction she wanted.

A shudder ran through his spine as his face flushed pink. On a last conscious thought, Neil leapt up from the chair and paced towards the window, hiding from the group. A half-swallowed groan broke through his mouth as he tightened his fist, hopelessly trying to forget how those two words sounded on her lips. It was pathetic.

The more tragic outcome was that now Cupid had even more blackmailing material in her arsenal.

“Jesus Christ, you’re evil,” Neil knew he still sounded wrecked.

There was no way of hiding that. Of making her forget this had just happened and the conclusions she could draw from it. Neil barely resisted the urge to smash his head into the window.

“Oh, so it would help,” as expected, Cupid sounded delighted by what had transpired. The cheeky smile he liked way too much was undoubtedly present on her face as she added, “Not so dully noted” may he rest in pieces, apparently, “When are you coming back?” the question sounded almost out of place.

Yet even in his muddled mind, Neil knew it was genuine. That she wanted to know. If that fact meant anything at all, he did not know. And he tried his hardest not to think about it too much.

“Why? You miss me?” ignoring the chorus of ‘awws’ behind his back, Neil allowed himself to ask.

Even if only for emotional validation. Because while she has hinted at it before, Neil was never tired of being reminded. The whole thing with her might have been hopeless, but it did not change how he worked. How his heart ticked and what beat it chose. Tragically, romanticism was tricky to get rid of. Neil experienced that first-hand.

“You know that I do,” Cupid did not mind humouring his whims as she offered a simple admission without a fight.

With all his predictability, Neil could not hold back the idiotic grin from making an appearance. Sure, it had no future, but that did not make him less eager to play along. What’s the worst thing that could happen? Famous last words and all. Probably.

“I should be back in a week. More or less,” that was the hope, anyway.

The few stray thoughts that had somehow escaped the web spun by Cupid, and her attention reminded him about the work still left to be done. Like the fucking pincer movement plan. With threebastards taunting him mercilessly. So much fun.

“Fab. I got you a great seat for the premiere, so… You know what to do,” the hopeful note in her voice was worth the future pain.

He had no doubts about it. The fact was that Neil was looking forward to the ballet. The hazy memories of seeing ‘Swan Lake’, aged six, hardly compared to the Royal Ballet company. It was a good enough reason to attend. The other excellent reason was Cupid herself, but that was best unsaid. And unthought. Somehow.

“Got you,” ignoring the ridiculous thoughts, Neil offered her a smile she could not see and a silent prayer cast into the heavens that he was not lying unknowingly.

“I know you do. You’re a good boy, Neil,” Cupid’s strike came with no warning.

Yet again, she dropped her tone a notch and whispered the damned two words with a breathy sigh. The metaphorical nail to the coffin this time was how she said his name, almost caressing the letters. And yes, this time it worked, too.

Neil had the mind to faceplant into the window and groan with frustration. The inescapable blush warmed up his cheeks as his body shivered. Some… particular parts of his physique also showed interest in what was happening, eternally oh so eager to betray his wish to stay unbothered.

“For fuck’s-” the choked curse got swallowed by the mightiest effort on his side as Neil took a steadying breath and asked, “Why?”

As if happy to punish him, Cupid laughed.

“Because it’s fun,” the unspoken duh made him both more annoyed and more bewitched by her, “I’ll let you work now, but…” as did the carrot dangled in front of his face like the sweetest of baits.

Always the idiot, Neil could not possibly ignore it.

“Yeah?” he could hear her take a deep breath as if steeling herself for a difficult admission.

“I’m glad we’ve met,” Cupid whispered the confession without as much as a pause between the words.

“Me too,” his reply got lost in the static as she hung up.

Letting out the breath he did not know he was holding, Neil lowered the phone onto the windowsill and stared at the city outside. Well then. The call would take a while to process; that was unquestionable.

“Aw, aren’t you two cute?” Ives’ teasing threw Neil out of that pleasantly fuzzy mind space with all the grace of an elephant.

He turned around with the glower at the ready. This time, he could not bite back the curse:

“Shut the fuck up,” on an afterthought, Neil added, “Please,” noticing the soldier open his mouth for a quip, he dropped his tone to a warning timbre. That called for a final caution, “Unless you want to start looking for a new physicist,” his glare slipped over the trio before Neil settled at the table and unfolded the blueprints without another word.

***

When that awaited text from Neil came, bearing the information that he was back in London and happy to meet you whenever you did not jump for joy. Definitely not. What you did do was grin and discuss the possible rendezvous immediately. When that Tuesday afternoon arrived, with the glory of a decent rehearsal and a good coffee in your paper cup, you happily bypassed the crowds at Green Park and skipped the steps down to the correct platform.

That twenty-minute walk to the station was a blessing, just as much as a curse. When Neil proposed the time you could meet on the train, you did not correct him about your location that day. Or that grabbing the Jubilee line would be entirely off the quickest route back home. You just accepted the time and place and ignored the voice at the back of your head reminding you that this was not how you usually behaved.

It could go fuck itself.

Once you settled on the platform, one glance at the watch told you the next train would be the right one. The strange giddiness sparked in your veins, but you blamed it on the three-week gap between the meetings. It was just that, nothing more. Obviously.

The autopilot carried you through the motions until you had boarded the carriage and came face to face with the cause of all this idiocy. Neil smiled, instantly clocking you before you had even placed both feet inside. It was impossible to keep your face neutral, returning the grin and manoeuvring around the commuters to sit next to him on the three plastic chairs facing the sliding doors.

Then, as if seized by insanity, you propelled your body forward with the arms coming up around Neil’s neck to embrace him tightly. His freeze took approximately twenty seconds to thaw as he returned the hug with equal strength. You could feel the warmth of his breath hitting the crook of your neck and making you fight back a shiver that would not do. Instead, you let yourself breathe him in, rest in the moment that was potentially a mistake. Still, you were not going to treat it like one. Not when the warmth of his hands seeped through the clothes as they rested on your waist.

When the lurch of the train reminded you of reality and all its flaws, you ruefully disentangled from Neil and met his wary gaze. His blue eyes scanned your face as if looking for clues towards the reasons for the madness you just allowed yourself. When that offered no answers, Neil broke the silence with a careful observation:

“I didn’t know that we’re doing hugs,” his impassive face offered no clues either, triggering a wave of uncertainty you had to smother.

Because what if you went too far? What if that was not what Neil wanted?

“We are now,” the confidence was missing from the statement, making you add a crucial question, “Is that okay?” you could hear the insecurity in your voice, betraying the worries.

They disappeared the moment Neil flashed you a smile, his hand lightly patting your knee as a complement to the simple reassurance:

“Sure is,” lowering his gaze to catch yours, Neil winked.

Thank fuck. It surely made life much easier. Or the plans you might or might have not made regarding him. Now that the crisis had passed, you shifted in the seat to find a more comfortable position and allowed yourself a selfish look, measuring him up as usual. The slight tan line revealed by the rolled-up sleeves confirmed what you did know about his disappearance. The minor tiredness in how he carried his body strengthened your guesses. The rest of him blinded you as always.

Especially the three buttons left undone, revealing a strip of his chest. And inspiring ungodly thoughts in your head. Ignoring that what could not be addressed. Especially not right now in a carriage full of people. You switched your attention to the other crucial topic. Everything was better than being arrested for public indecency. At least you did hope so.

“How was the trip?” you noted the shift in Neil’s posture.

How he strengthened in the seat, the mask back in place. Although his mystery had fallen into the background over the acceleration of your dynamic, it was still very much present. You had to figure him out. Had to crack the case. Even if it killed you.

For now, though, simply asking mundane questions had to be enough.

“Well… it was fine. The usual” the answer did not help much, however.

Neil looked as if he knew how enigmatic it sounded but could not do anything about it. Upon your questioning look, he only shrugged and offered no further details. This time, you could not let the moment pass without a comment. You rolled your eyes, a frustrated huff interrupting the silence with petulance:

“God, you couldn’t be any less mysterious if you tried,” although anger was not one of the present emotions, you knew Neil would understand the message as you glared at him without heat.

He winced as if admitting to the guilt you hinted at and turned to you with a more open expression on his face:

“Sorry, it’s uh… maybe one day,” Neil met your gaze meaningfully, making you keener to believe him.

You held his gaze for a beat, even if only to have an excuse to look into his eyes and see Neil without the veil of pretence. It was easy to hope one day he would tell you more. That there was one day, somewhere along the line, waiting for you. That whatever was happening would not burn to a cinder in two weeks and leave you bereft. As things like this tended to do.

“I’ll hold you to that,” before breaking the eye contact, you reached for his hand.

It was another insane reflex that was difficult to explain, even to yourself. Yet, still, Neil went willingly. His long fingers tangled with yours without resistance and allowed you to rest your joined palms between the seats, almost like a beacon to whoever was curious about your meeting. And you could see the nosy stares, the inquisitive grandmas eager to judge and label everything and everyone existing within their vicinity.

You used the warmth of your connected hands to anchor you in the present as Neil asked:

“How’s the imposter syndrome? Did it fuck off at last?” the softness in his eyes could undoubtedly be fatal.

As was the way he knew what to ask and hit the jackpot without even trying. Because, of course, the feeling of not being good enough did not disappear. Of course, you still got up every morning with the vague desire to approach the ballet director and tell her you are giving up. That you cannot do this. It almost seemed like Neil could sense your thoughts.

Which was both terrifying and appealing, if you were to be honest. It would make your job easier if he knew exactly what you were thinking. About him.

“I wish,” the suffering sigh was a cheap trick, but viable in your books, “I still think I’m going to embarrass myself, but well,” not willing to give up the comfortable weight of his hand in yours, you offered Neil a one-sided shrug “Can’t exactly capitulate now” the desperate edge to that sentence did not escape his attention.

Sure, you would not actually give up, but that did not mean you were not half-heartedly wishing it happened anyway. Ideally, in the form of someone else doing the job for you. Pathetic, innit?

Neil squeezed your hand, capturing your attention without needing to try at all. The frown was still present on your face, its force turning the corners of your mouth downwards. As always, Neil seemed to see through all that you were not saying. He met your gaze (which was a feat considering you were happy to look anywhere but at him) and spoke:

“I wouldn’t let you,” there was an edge to his voice, a steely resolve that told you the conversation was gaining another layer.

A different destination to the one you had expected at first. Although, with how your chats recently played out, it was to be anticipated. Probably.

Without giving yourself the time to overthink, you leaned closer to Neil and placed a hand on his thigh. You could see his eyes widen upon the move, the pupils blowing up in the quickest form of flattery a man could give you. Sharpening your smile to the perfectly saccharine variant, you delivered the prepared lines:

“Oh yeah?” his thigh muscles tensed underneath your hand as Neil’s mouth fell agape without him being fully in control of the reaction. It was adorable. And an ideally ripe ground to lay the final strike, “You’d force me? Have your way with me?” the sparks in his eyes were a pretty addition to the already gorgeous picture.

At that moment, you knew that you had missed this. No texting could ever replace the real thing. The back and forth with the arresting strength of his eye contact and the unpredictable suspense of what would come next. Like the sudden softening of Neil’s features and an unexpectedly tentative counter to your bold questions:

“If you’d let me,” he swallowed hard as if desperately trying to get rid of the thoughts in his head and simultaneously unable to shake them off.

As if ripping the thread connecting him to you and shortening it at an alarming rate was causing Neil physical pain. The revelation acted like a hot poker pressed against the tender skin of your palm. It was difficult to shrug it off as if it was nothing. It nagged and prodded until you could do nothing but stare dumbly at him, feeling every passing second like a wasted beat of time you would never get back.

Before you could get your shit together in any way, it was too late. Neil had already jumped to conclusions, as you worried he might. His brows furrowed as his teeth nibbled on the chapped bottom lip in a familiar nervous tic. Slowly, as if navigating a mined battlefield, he shifted in the seat, widening the space between you by a fraction. You noticed it anyway.

“You don’t mind that this sort of thing keeps happening?” the question was completed with a vague gesture, slashing the air between you awkwardly.

The inflexion offered no space for doubt. Neil concluded that you very much did mind. That somehow you were not an active and eager participant in the heavy flirting and mutual teasing. Neil was an idiot.

And you had to put that point across instantly.

“Why would I mind?” without thinking, you let your fingers repeatedly stroke his forearm as you leaned back into his orbit to confess what ought to have been obvious, “I mean every word I say to you. Including all that post-Watershed talk” it was delightful to see your favourite smile disrupt his frown.

At the same time, it was nice to have it out in the open, no longer unsaid and implied. Because you did mean it. And you did want it. Whatever Neil would offer, be it a friendship or more. The choice was his.

You could pinpoint when the weight lifted off his shoulders and let him breathe deeper. You stared as Neil absorbed and processed the information, his blue eyes showing a spectrum of emotions. Some were unreadable. Other more obvious, like the devilish sparks that always guaranteed the conversation would take a curious turn. Or the cautious hope, making him look so much younger and innocent. Your unoccupied hand itched with the desire to brush his golden locks from his forehead, so you tightened it into a fist hidden in the coat pocket.

Just like you hid everything that had no place in your life.

At the periphery of your attention, you could register the called stations. Or the fact that your stop was mercilessly getting closer. Only one question could make you forget the reality altogether:

“So, what would you do if I kissed you?” when Neil asked, you were glad you had never forced yourself to look away from him.

That hesitant hope was still there, lightening up his eyes. You let it pull you in, as there was no need to search your heart for an answer. It was fair to assume Neil knew that, too. The question was only a preliminary. But it was still admirable he asked. People rarely did.

You shrugged, highlighting the evident conclusion he hopefully had already reached. It would have been easy to close the gap and let that be the answer. Too easy. It was enough that you could hardly ever look away from him, constantly drawn and arrested by his eyes.

Forcing yourself to break the spell, you met his gaze and offered him an impassive smile. If only to keep up the façade for a little longer.

“There’s only one way to find out, Neil,” you hoped that was enough, that he would understand the ball was back in his court to do as he pleased.

You also hoped Neil came to the right solution. Sadly, that did not seem to come to be just yet. One glance outside the window alarmed you about the surroundings and that you were arriving at your station. The frown twisted your mouth downwards as you risked a glance at Neil. The disappointment in his eyes told you he already caught up.

Two choices were waiting at your disposal. You could either stay, miss your stop to find out what would happen next. Or you could choose cowardice and leave the carriage, delaying the fateful moment a little longer. Definitely not forever.

It was hard to say why you chose the second option. Why you stood up without as much as a look at Neil and feigned a cheery farewell that felt foreign on your tongue. Later, you were keen to pretend it was just the influence of the moment. A sudden spell of insanity.

“Oops, that’s me. See you soon,” it was a miracle that you did not trip in the haste to get out.

You barely registered the surroundings as you bolted towards the sliding door and stepped onto the platform, missing the gap by mere millimetres. It was pure luck that you did not walk into any poor soul as you attempted to get away from the train as fast as possible.

You did not get the time to flee. All because you did not consider one thing – Neil had a choice, too.

When you felt a hand take yours and pull you back, there was that split second of panic. Your disoriented mind rapidly flicked through at least ten different disastrous scenarios, starting at a random appearance of Liam and ending at a violent assault you were about to be subjected to. Only then, at the very end, your brain pushed forward another observation. There was something familiar about that handhold.

Before you had a second to follow that thought, the interrupter pulled at your hand, making you whirl around to face them. Your widened gaze fell upon the undone tortoiseshell shirt buttons and wandered up the neck to land on Neil’s blue eyes, patiently staring back at you. It took you another second to understand what happened. And another one to begin processing what it could mean. Why he did it.

Without being aware of the movement of your body, you stepped closer to Neil, tightening the bubble you both had created in the middle of the platform. People bypassed you as they rushed to the train with the beeping doors hastening their steps. But that hardly mattered. It was just white noise. Unimportant and ignorable.

Unlike Neil, who closed the gap between your bodies to mere millimetres, and wordlessly repeated the question from before. The answer did not change. You offered him a tiny nod, not feeling the need to speak. The surrealism of the moment could not be labelled anyhow.

From the second you had tasted Neil’s lips, you knew it would not be something you could forget. That the feel of him would burn into the cortex of your brain and stay there to haunt you for eternity. You were right.

Your eyes snapped shut as soon as he closed the distance and covered your mouth with his in a soft kiss. His gentle and pliant lips caressed yours attentively without effort, making you cling even closer to him. Your arms came around Neil’s neck as your fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. It took another second, a blissful beat of existence, to make you kiss him back. Just as carefully. Just like you never kissed anyone before.

Neil’s relief came through in a short gasp, let out into your opening mouth, and the warm weight of his palms came up to rest on your waist beneath the open coat. Following the logic you did not understand, you tilted your head and allowed his prying tongue to lick into your mouth. The liquid heat traversed your veins, warming up your skin as Neil took his time to map out the inside of your mouth. Suddenly, the instant connection you felt made sense. Things clicked into place as you breathed the taste of him and breathed out the uncertainty. It felt right. Good. Unforgettable, even.

It felt like no first kisses and endless one-night stands ever did. And that made no sense.

Soon, that first kiss evolved into another and then the next. The platform, the people and the noise faded into the background as you swapped kisses, barely interrupted by quiet groans and swallowed gasps. On its own accord, your hand ventured up to tangle in his hair, grabbing a fistful of the golden locks and tugging in time with a particularly hungry nip taken out of Neil’s bottom lip. The reward of a barely stifled moan was more than worth it.

As was how Neil held you close and returned your kisses with equal zeal. He matched your energy and pushed you further until the remaining part of your conscience worried about being arrested for public indecency.

When the burn of your lungs excelled that of your soul, you placed a palm over the centre of his chest and pushed Neil back. Just a fraction. Just to catch your breath. His answering whine felt like another spark of pride, making your eyes glow with self-satisfaction. That was better than any other form of gratification you could think of.

When you finally forced yourself to blink your eyes open and look at Neil, you were met with kiss-bruised lips and darkened blue eyes, showing nothing else but hunger. At least ten increasingly ridiculous religious metaphors battled for leadership in your mind, but you pushed them all aside. The most accurate comment went to two simple words, pushed forward by the strength of your soul’s crudeness. Fucking hell. In the best of meanings, that is.

Following deeply rooted instincts, your tongue darted out to thoroughly trace the expanse of your bottom lip. And get remains of his taste, that you had already started missing. As far as kisses had gone, this one was pretty damn spectacular.

Neil seemed frozen, his eyes fixed on your mouth as if that was the only thing he could do. Admittedly, it was adorable. Yet, still, you decided to break the spell, the only way you could think of:

“I think your train has left,” you glanced over his shoulder, noting the expectedly empty platform.

Only now, when the haze of the kiss (or rather a whole make-out session) had begun to lift, you could understand what had transpired. And that Neil was keen to delay his return home for the price of a kiss. Or for the hope of a kiss, for clearly, he did not think he would get that far. Idiot.

You could see it now, back on his face. The slight disorientation and confusion suggested Neil could barely believe that what just happened was real. He blinked twice, then again, as if forcing himself to wake up and met your gaze with wide eyes. Without thinking, you allowed the hand you had pressed flat to his chest to venture up, stopping when your fingers started grazing over his neck. That was the trigger Neil needed to return to reality. He seized your adventurous fingers in a loose hold and placed your joined hands back over his heart. You could feel it racing.

“I’ll wait for the next one,” Neil offered you a half-smile, the uncertainty shining through the tentative joy in his eyes.

It was not something you were used to. Usually, after a kiss like that (never even preceded with a question, because who the fuck still asked for kisses?), you only ever got smugness. And an attempt at a smooth transition to sex, which did or did not succeed, depending on the participating party). Never uncertainty. Never shyness. Never contentment with what happened without pushing you for more.

You didn’t know what to do with any of it.

“No regrets?” the question was also one that you never asked before.

Not after something as trivial as a first kiss. But then, nothing was the way it usually went with Neil. That much was quite clear.

“Not really. You?” as if sensing your growing uncertainty, Neil did not hesitate before answering the question.

He squeezed your fingers, still wrapped in his palm and met your gaze with something almost resembling confidence. Somehow, that was enough. You took a fortifying breath to gather courage and discard the doubts. There would be more than enough time to deal with them later. Hopefully.

For now, there were other things to do and say. Like answering Neil’s question and reclaiming the conversation from its sombre paths. Especially since no cell in your body regretted the kiss. Or any other thing you had ever said or hinted at to him. It is just that somehow, somewhere along the line, your normal confidence had been wiped off the table. And it felt like it was never to be seen again. Not like before.

You hoped to ignore that bit of revelation, too.

“Nope. I’d offer a coffee at mine, but… I think some things need a better build-up,” you hoped the chaos in your head was not easily seen as you dropped the line with an attempt at the usual smoothness and met Neil’s eyes with remaining poise.

You meant that, too. A part of you, the same that had difficulties ending the kiss, wanted to continue it wherever it may lead you. You were quite sure you knew where it was going. And you certainly wanted that. But, at the same time, rushing into it seemed… wrong. As if the fact that you also wanted to be friends with Neil needed a little more respect. A little more time.

You could tell he understood from the way Neil nodded, his eyes still blown out by the darkened pupils.

“Agreed,” he shook his head slightly as if trying to clear it before glancing at the timing screen over your heads. Whatever the impact those 7 minutes of waiting had, the next thing Neil did was to heave a sigh and set his weary eyes on you, “Actually, I might walk back home. Should probably clear my head,” a small smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

Without overthinking the act, you seized his hand and started for the stairs. Just because you were not yet taking him home did not mean you could not drag out the goodbye. Right?

Right.

***

Although the kiss was not forgotten and only added to the general restlessness, you never mentioned it again. It was another layer added to the sprinkled, complex mess that was your relationship. A tiered cake that had so many flavours it was impossible to label it using a concise, less than five-word description. It just did not get discussed.

That was both a blessing and a curse, considering that with mere days left till the public Don Quixote premiere you could barely handle one type of stress and uncertainty. Let alone two. The reality check deadline crept up on you without warning, catching you pacing the flat for over an hour the evening before the official pre-premiere. The event always happened at least a night before the opening soiree and was reserved for the press, Royal Ballet directory and special guests of honour. It also meant that every detail of the performance had to be up to par if one wanted to continue advancing the career in the company. Which you did want. Desperately. It was just bloody unfortunate that the usual insanity of anxiety now was interlaced with something else.

Something that made you stop the pacing and pick up the phone only to open the messages and stare at the text conversation with Neil. It had been a few hours, and considering the 9 pm on the clock, you had a fair right to believe that he might be asleep. Maybe. But that could hardly deter the part of your brain that tended to get ahead of itself. Especially fuelled by stress and anxiety.

Without letting yourself falter, you typed the question:

/ 🏹, 9:04 pm/ Are you still up?

Luckily, you only had to hold your breath for an answer (or a lack of it) for less than 5 minutes. For that, your lungs were eternally thankful.

/✝️, 9:08 pm/ Is this the moment you ask me for dick pics?

A ridiculous guffaw broke the silence of your flat, along with that necessary intake of oxygen. Conversations like those still happened daily and only increased the want you could not get rid of if you tried.

And you didn’t try. There was no point to it.

/ 🏹, 9:09 pm/ Nah. Not yet.

You were having fun, chatting the shit on the daily with someone who seemed more than eager to keep the ball going. That was partially why you reached out on a whim, desperate to get out of the flat even for a little while. After all, asking Neil offered a fifty-fifty chance of an entertaining evening. All other intentions did not have to be disclosed. Even in your mind.

/✝️, 9:10 pm/ That’s a relief.

/✝️, 9:10 pm/ How can I be of service, my lady?

/ 🏹, 9:11 pm/ You’ve no idea, babe.

/ 🏹, 9:12 pm/ I was thinking of going to the dance studio, that’s open till midnight. Do you want to come?

/ 🏹, 9:12 pm/ You’ve said you wanted to see me dance so…

After sending the third message, you put down the phone and exhaled. That nervousness residing in your bones was new. It was almost as if it mattered what Neil’s answer would be. As if you cared whether he would say yes to the tentative proposition. None of that had ever happened before.

The urge to faceplant into the pillow was derailed by the buzz of an incoming message. With embarrassing speed of reaction, you read the texts:

/✝️, 9:15 pm/ Happily.

/✝️, 9:15 pm/ When and where do we meet?

You grinned. As you copied and pasted the location pin into the message, you could already feel a different type of nervousness enter your system. It was time for Neil to see you dance. You would also see him for the first time since the kiss. It was high time someone covered this topic on wikiHow. Or, at least, you thought so.

***

Although the Royal Ballet had more than good enough facilities at the Covent Garden building, the company could also use a studio by the Southwark Underground Station whenever you felt like it. Conveniently, that alternative place was open till midnight on weeknights, offering a one-in-a-million chance to run over the choreography for a billion times more before the pre-premiere. Without an audience of your fellow ballet dancers and their critical eyes, at that.

The other perk to the external studio was that nothing stopped you from bringing someone from the outside along. Nothing except for maybe the deeply rooted fear of showing Neil what you could do. Or couldn’t do.

That fear had not left through the Uber drive from your flat, growing in force from the moment you set your eyes upon Neil waiting outside the studio with a smile on his face. You exchanged the usual niceties, bypassing the awkward tint to the interaction with an avoided hug and nonsensical commentary from your side.

The nerves seemed to reach the peak as you left Neil in the main ballet studio room, the space lit up sparsely to maintain the strangely surreal atmosphere of those late autumn nights in London when nothing seems to be tangible and real. Having left the house in a pre-planned rehearsal outfit, you only took off the unnecessary layers, leaving you in a simple bodice and a wrap mid-thigh skirt and pulled on the woollen leg warmers to keep the chill at bay.

Luckily for your racing heart, the ritual of putting on and lacing up the pointe shoes always did its magic, allowing you to centre yourself and take a couple of deep breaths. Until there was nothing left but to march out of the changing room and connect your phone to the speaker, the right track ready for you to press play.

But before you could go that far, you made the mistake of locating Neil in the room. He had settled on the floor opposite you, his back pressed to the mirror-covered walls of the studio. He stared as you entered the invisible stage and offered you an encouraging smile. A slow, gentle warm-up was a valid opportunity to falter. A necessary step you had to take while also admitting that it was convenient. Although, Neil’s attentive gaze following your every move was much less convenient.

Once you had run out of all other options, you started the music, put down the phone and took up position. Desperate to rehearse as much as possible, you chose to go through the entire dream sequence at the end of Act 2. As always, the Minkus score did its magic, helping you settle into the movement and almost forget about everything else.

You followed the steps with practised ease, hearing the dull thud of pointe shoes hitting the hardwood floors with each landing between the orchestral notes. When the cue to finish was near you were almost out of breath. The pearls of sweat clung to your temples as the sweetness of exertion burned through your muscles and tendons. When those final notes rang off in the quiet studio, you held the finishing pose and waited for the music to end. The resulting silence was deafening.

Slowly, as if pained to do it, you opened your eyes. Neil was right where you had left him; his gaze seemingly never trailed away. But the exact look on his face was different. Instead of the ease and unbothered nonchalance he tried to emit earlier, Neil was now speechless. Dazed. His mouth was still agape, and he had to remind himself to close it before swallowing hard. You tried your hardest not to let that get into your head. You failed.

“So… what do you think?” unable to keep quiet for much longer, you released the question into the ether with a permanent frown and a minimal level of conviction.

It seemed to be what Neil needed to wake up from the stupor. He shifted, pulled up his knees to his chin and eyed you with a bright gaze. The desire to look away rose with every minute, but you tried to endure it. Somehow.

“You’re brilliant. Do you know that?” the matter-of-fact tone threw you off kilter, bringing out an automatic (albeit manic) grin from its hiding back onto your face.

Neil mirrored the expression instantly, only widening your smile in the process. Feeling the need to move again, you flexed your calves, completing a set of rapid changements. Only once that was done you could attempt to answer the question.

“Maybe,” you shrugged, unwilling to stray onto that sort of honest territory just yet, “It doesn’t hurt to hear it again, though,” unable to ignore that one voice at the back of your head that had not been convinced, you asked, “Was it actually… good?” the emphasis on the word was automatic.

You could tell Neil saw right through your faux nonchalance as he smiled, a different type of fondness shining in his eyes. That, too, was best left alone for now. The observation was shelved among others of its kind in the darkest cavern of your brain. Ideally left alone for good, never to be touched or thought of again. Just in case.

Neil’s gaze never strayed from yours as he offered you an answer without a hint of exasperation:

“As far as my virgin eyes could tell, it was perfect,” the corner of his mouth rose in the makings of a familiar smirk.

It eradicated any illusions that he did not know what he was saying. Or the effect the sentence would have. You closed your eyes against the sight, hopelessly willing the inconvenient feelings to disappear.

By now, it was painfully clear that Neil could be a bastard when he wanted to. It was just another thing that you liked about him. Perhaps too much.

For a second, you debated following the easy way out he had offered. It would have been effortless to take up the tone and turn the conversation into yet another pleasant back-and-forth that could potentially lead you past the talking. Past that one kiss, that had lowkey driven you insane with the promise of potential.

But the doubts were still there. They still clouded your mind like a flock of hungry birds of prey hunting for a bite of flesh. And Neil was the only person you could talk to and know he would listen. That he would care. For some reason, it was a crucial thing to share. An important topic to raise. Here and now.

“Allow me to ignore that double entendre potential for a second,” your apologetic frown was accepted with a subtle nod and meaningful glance.

“You’re excused, Cupid,” Neil grinned, evidently taking pleasure from the nickname you became fond of.

Especially because it was him, who bestowed it on you.

“Thank you,” shaking off the sudden rush of affection, you completed the gratitude with a cheeky addition, returning Neil’s smirk, “Sir,” only once noted his answering blush, it was safe to delve into what you really wanted to tell him. You took a deep breath, completing half a pirouette to face the mirrors on the wall and asked, “Do you ever feel like you’re just constantly pretending? Like the whole ‘fake it till you make it’ deal, except you never stop faking it?” training your gaze on the hardwood floors, you stared at the tips of your pointe shoes.

The worn-out, ragged edges caught your attention for a split second. You took a mental note to break in the brand-new pair and prepare them for tomorrow’s show. On the periphery of your vision, you could see Neil’s reflection. You could feel him staring, the intense gazing boring holes in the back of your head. But not even that could make you turn and face him.

“Pretty much every day,” Neil’s reply made you look up, meeting his eyes in the reflection. That was not an answer you had expected, “I’ve found that sometimes, if you’re lucky, all that pretending can fool the brain, too,” he signed off the addition with another reassuring smile.

Still, the scepticism reigned free as an unbidden scoff tore from your throat, forcing you to swallow down the sudden desire to retreat from the conversation. Years of practice did not seem to share Neil’s thesis. Things never got easier. You doubted they ever would.

“I’d hope so. Except that, I’m not sure I am that lucky,” that was a given, an undeniable fact of life like the laws of physics or the ignorance of the Tories. Unchangeable. The familiar wave of frustration threatened to pull you down as you allowed the insecurities to speak their part,“I may appear as a fucking cool cat, confident and all, but… I’m not,” hearing the broken note in your voice, you swallowed hard, unable to look at Neil anymore. There was only one final thing to add, “And I wish I could be,”

There. The curtain has fallen, revealing the truth underneath. Now, it was clear Neil had no illusions left about you. No reason to think of you highly. Somehow, you felt lighter. Sure, still unable to meet his gaze, even in the reflection, but it was better that way. Now, when you did disappoint him somewhere along the line, for whatever reason, it would be much less surprising.

You had no doubts whether that moment of disappointment would happen. It always did.

“You have every right to be. Because you are” when Neil spoke, at first, you did not register it. His words flew right over your head before being caught by your heart, desperate to find anything to hold on to. Only then did you hear what he said. You looked up in time to see the remains of the fading blush on his cheeks, “If that even makes sense,” he shook his head slightly as if scolding himself over the awkward reassurance and stood up. The tense shoulders betrayed the lightness he still tried to emit, “Trust me when I say I feel useless and stupid every minute of every day,” the weariness in his voice clashed with the disbelief you felt when hearing what he said.

That made no sense. The turmoil made you turn around in a half-pirouette and face Neil with wide eyes and mouth agape. Your brain was experiencing severe computing issues, the smoke almost sizzling out through your open lips.

He was none of those things. You barely resisted the urge to close the miles between you and shake him by the shoulders, all the while screaming at him to stop saying such bullshit. You did not do any of those things.

“But you’re… you,” instead, you gestured vaguely towards him, armed with words that were not enough.

No words seemed to be apt to describe him. Neil was just… impossible. Ineffable in his wonderfulness. Much better than anyone you had ever known. But that was something you could not say. Not now.

“In my books, that’s not necessarily a good thing,” Neil glanced at you with tired eyes, kicking around at nothing as he slid across the parquet in his socks.

When you entered the studio, he started unlacing his shoes before you could protest. Said something about not wanting the cleaner to have more work. The comment made you smile too brightly before you excused yourself into the changing room and hid your face in the palms of your hands. That state didn’t seem to have passed.

In an effort not to do anything stupid, you backed away till you could feel the barre against your back. Only then you met his searching gaze and made sure to show Neil the extent of earnestness on your face:

“It is. I’ve never met anyone like you, Neil,” the admission was met with a surprised double-take, so you decided to soften the tone with a stupid addition, “The hottest priest in London and whatnot,” you did mean that one, too.

Neil’s huff of laughter felt like a dodged bullet.

“Funny,” the bright sparks in his eyes confirmed the praise with doubled force, making you turn back towards the mirror to avoid being blinded by the strength of his affection. That stuff could be dangerous, “You’re the hottest ballerina in London, so we’re even,” once you registered Neil’s words, the silky tone of his voice that had not been there just a second ago, you knew that trouble was coming.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him close the gap. The warmth settled in your cheeks as you felt the comfortable heat spread around your body. That pleasant anticipation ignited in your bones with every step Neil took. Somewhere, at the edges of reason and logic, you knew you still had a choice. You knew that whatever he had envisioned in his mind, could easily be stopped with one word from your side. What was the problem?

Mainly that you didn’t want him to stop. Did not want to cut short the moment slowly blooming into something crucial. You could feel it buzz beneath your skin as Neil took the final steps towards you and leaned in. His hands came to rest upon the barre, millimetres from yours. Not quite touching but enough so you could not ignore his presence. You could feel the heat from his body as Neil pressed his chest to your back and whispered into your ear:

“A cool cat,” in normal circumstances, the call-back to your rant would have made you laugh.

But those weren’t normal circumstances. Not with Neil’s proximity, his hands slowly tracing invisible lines up your arms. You could feel his breath on the nape of your neck, creating goosebumps effortlessly. And the thing was – this wasn’t anything new. It was far from the first time someone had done this. Far from the first time you had been tempted by someone who desired you. But it was the first time they seemed to take their time for it.

Your head felt dizzy with the revelation as Neil’s fingers lightly brushed the neckline of your bodice and journeyed down. It was a first in the fact that he did not even try touching your breasts, instead respectfully settling over your ribs and tapping a vague rhythm over your heated skin. Without searching your heart, you knew that you did not mind it. Not one bit.

You covered one of his palms with yours, firmly pressing it against your waist and raised your head to seek Neil’s gaze. He was already looking back at you, the blue eyes of his eyes dark and consumed with something you wanted to call hunger. The same feeling could be easily found on your face.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” you frowned at the hoarseness of your voice and the breathless tint to the question.

For the first time, it was impossible to fake your reaction. Impossible to pretend you were not affected. Neil’s answering smile, full of confidence and mischief, made that discovery seem fine. Not troubling at all.

“Is it working?” the warmth in his eyes made you feel safe, not threatened by the potential of what could happen.

Not viable to the pains of consequences. That seemed enough.

Enough to make you gently tug at his hand, asking for the freedom of movement to turn around and face him. Only then, with Neil’s curious gaze beaming down on you like a desirable spotlight, you placed his palm back on your waist and offered an honest reply:

“I think you already know,” as proof, you picked up his other hand and guided it to press against your chest, feeling the rapid heartbeat.

The wolfish grin you received in return was worth any leftover sense of shame and embarrassment. Neil leaned in, and just as you were about to close your eyes, awaiting another life-changing kiss, he left a promising peck on the edge of your jaw. On its own accord, your hand tightened over the wooden railing as you exposed your throat for his use.

Neil wasted no time leaving a trail of kisses down the slope of your neck, only just being careful enough not to leave marks. Each kiss felt like a hot poker pressed against the tender skin of your neck, blazing hot and impossible to shake off. You closed your eyes, letting the sense take in the sensation of his tender care. Of the contrasting burn of stubble, scratching at your skin with a delicious sting.

Every kiss took time, only then to be sealed with a lick of his tongue, eliciting your quiet gasps and barely kept in groans of pleasure. The wave of insanity rose, threatening to take over your brain, save for one consistent thought. One revelation.

No one had cared this much before.

Letting go of his hand, you tangled your fingers in his golden strands, lightly tugging to gain his attention. The answering groan was sure to enter the library of sounds and images you liked to relieve in private. But before you could attempt to formulate the desire painted across your face, the door to the studio creaked, disrupting the silence.

You gasped in shock as Neil took half a step back, warily eyeing the doorway. A thousand curses lodged themselves in your throat as a silhouette of an older man, armed with a bucket and a mop, peered inside the room with a scowl. Fucking Rich, the Janitor.

The older man scanned you both from head to toe and sighed.

“It’s closing time, kids. Go home,” his gravelly voice acted like the much-needed bucket of cold water.

As he turned back towards the darkness of the corridor, you met Neil’s eyes. The depths of exasperation visible there told you this business was far from over. You certainly hoped so.

#neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet #tenet 2020 #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet fanfic #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x you #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson imagine #deadlines & commitments

[mariailoveyou-guerin]

watched tenet for the 7th time first of all Neil and the protagonist are literally boyfriends been know since first time I watched it you can’t tell me other wise the way Neil kept coming back in time in revert to save the protagonist they IN LOVE YOUR HONOUR the give doctor and river song vibes 2nd how come I’ve watched this 7 times yet I ain’t know that was Aaron as Ives or maybe I did and just forgot Aaron Taylor discography insane this to bullet train now that’s marvel actor done great now rdj too cuz he’s in Nolan movie too! back to the movie I can without a doubt

say this is Nolan greatest film I’m sorry it’s this or memento that’s just facts and prestige is 3rd best Nolan movie ofc I’m so sorry people didn’t get tenet the first time or 2nd or 3rd time it’s literally one of the greatest movies and Nolan greatest movie no doubt in my mind I’m sorry y’all dumb and couldn’t understand the nuance of the movie the storytelling and plot but that’s just seems like you problem imagine not like one of the greatest movies bc you didn’t get it so you hated and gave it bad reviews ah fcvk it was also clearly racism involved cuz wryly the one time the main lead actor is black man in Nolan movie y’all hate it an give bad reviews and rankings it’s like how y’all treat every black lead movie especially the princess/superheroes movies bc y’all believe they taking away roles from ur fav same old yt actors

it’s clear it was racism that fuelled the hatred for tenet you can’t convince me y’all would’ve ate it up if it was yt actor y’all love who did the movie like y’all already loving Oppenheimer even tho y’all haven’t even seen it and will give great rankings reviews etc call it his

best work etc bla bla give it a high RT same old same old yt privilege sh*t while we on Oppenheimer was it hints in the movie bc they talked about him and atomic so much in the movie it’s like Nolan was giving us obvious huge clues hints that it was gonna be his next movie and it is the amount of times they talked about Oppenheimer atomic b0mbs grandfather of the blax2 it’s clear he was letting us know imagine if tenet and Oppenheimer was in the same universe that would’ve been so cool cuz they can invert themselves back in time what if they somehow found

a way it would’ve been so cool I know they can’t go that far back to a time where they weren’t born but its Nolan be most have a way of doing that it would’ve been so awesome cuz the guy we never met was getting things from the future what if he made sure Oppenheimer got the idea

the future or whatever that would’ve been the most mind blowing sh*t to ever happen in film imagine if Nolan created his own multiverse like this with tenet being a way for Oppenheimer sort of? and why do I feel we getting a tenet2 plz god tell me we are plz Nolan need them back

I need the boyfriends back I need to know how they met how he recruited her how he became aware of the whole thing from Neil and the protagonist perspective this time since we only saw Neil knowing the protagonist for years they literally been bfs for years I’m gonna end it all

bc why would the protagonist feel so strongly about a man he just met unless he subconsciously knew they were more he was crying for godsake over a guy he met few days ago max a month but he also knew Kat that long yet he been villing to risk her life for the mission timex2 again

#tenet #christopher nolan #oppenheimer #memento #the prestige #robert pattinson #john david washington #cillian murphy #michael caine #robert downey jr #aaron taylor johnson #Nolan movies #neil x protagonist #protagonists x Neil #neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet 2020 #the protagonist #protagoneil #neiltagonist

[antimonyandthyme]

Athy, I saw you also like tenet as well 👀 So I wanna hear your thoughts on sebchal tenet au. Like seb, as an experienced spy who's fiercely loyal and got recruited into the undo-apocalypse team project, meets with a puppy-eyed man named charles for the first time. But why doesn't it feel that way? How does charles know about jägerbomb? What are those gazes charles gives him when he think seb doesn't notice? And then some tokens give charles away and seb gets his italicized oh moment 🥺 The tension and angst of this au. . . chef's kiss!!

Anon. Anon. This is only the most perfect idea ever. Oh my gaude. Oh my gaude! A sebchal Tenet AU. It’s never even crossed my mind but now I see, I see! It couldn’t be more fitting! Anon your mind. Your mind! I have to write this. I have to! Thoughts under the cut, will be a little scrambled at the moment so bear with me!

Imagine Charles as Neil and Sebastian as the Protagonist! A reminder to everyone that the world didn’t end because Neil loved the Protagonist!

Anyway. Sebastian’s on this mission. It’s so top-secret he doesn’t even have details of what it is, or who he’s going to meet. Is it nuclear? Probably. (It isn’t. It’s temporal.) He dresses up in a midnight blue pinstripe suit for his first meeting with his contact. In a crowded bar, someone slides into the seat on his left.

Jesus. He’s young. The circles around his eyes are deep, like he hasn’t slept for two days. His suit is rumpled and marred with gunpowder stains. He already looks like he’s seen too much. Sebastian wants to yell. He keeps his tongue trapped behind his teeth. The fate of the world doesn’t care for the corruption of innocence. And anyway, the man before him is staring at him strangely, drinking him in like he’s seeing a ghost from his past. (Charles is, by the way. Sebastian is alive, alive! Come back to him at last, for this period of time that Charles needs to make the most of. To save the world and to convey to Sebastian just how much he is to him. The love of his life. Sebastian just doesn’t know it yet.)

Maybe he’s nervous, this young man. Sebastian smiles a little, to try to put him at ease. Oddly, it just makes the man’s lip wobble.

He clears his throat, flags a waiter down. “Vodka tonic,” he says, and points to Sebastian, “and a Jägerbomb.”

Sebastian blinks. “That’s for teenagers.”

The man smiles. “You still drink it.”

It’s the truth, though not one Sebastian has ever broadcasted. There’s so much more the man seems to want to say. Sebastian shifts, feeling like he’s being held up to the light and examined. It’s unlike him to feel out of control and wrong-footed in first meetings. There’s something so familiar about the way the man’s sitting, hunched but leaning persistently toward Sebastian. “You’re well informed.”

“It pays to be in our profession.” The man holds out a hand. His grip around Sebastian is tight, and he pulls away with what can only be described as reluctance. “Charles.”

Sebastian nods. Charles’ eyes are eager and determined and so, so wide. (Much later, Sebastian will look back upon this meeting and wonder. If it would’ve been better for them never to have crossed paths. It’s stupid. He would trade the world for more time, looking into Charles’ eyes.) “Let’s get to work.”

#athy texts #sebchal #tenet au #fanfic #rpf #tenet anon #please you’ve given me such a great idea #imagine charles looking at sebastian with such longing but being unable to say anything about it #and then they go bungee jumping into a building together #and then they save the world #and then sebastian realizes who he is #and who charles is #and what he has to send charles to do #and their parting is one of heartbreak but such love #and then sebastian goes back to recruit a young charles #oh my gaude #i’m talking myself into a frenzy #must write!!! #anyway for any of you all who are interested i’ve written tenet fics #they are… sad and heartbreaking i’ve been told

[hellerism]

hi i just have to thank you for mentioning Not Easily Conquered! i don’t even usually read stucky/marvel but oh my god i cannot stop thinking about that fic even though i finished it four days ago. i think it changed me forever. so i have to know if you know of any similar fics, either stucky specifically or that level of quality in any fandom bc clearly you’ve got great taste lol. ty in advance! <3

oh wow i’m so glad you liked it! it ruined my fucking life when i was a 16 year old stucky stan and even now when i dislike them there’s just something special and insanity inducing contained in that fic. it’s one of the most romantic things i’ve ever read in my life and i will never be over it. and thank you for the compliment >:) the secret to good taste in fic is only read fics that have been thoroughly vetted beforehand

as for other fics…ummm to be honest i don’t really read a lot of fic. i don’t know of any stucky fics that are on the level of nec but i can list off a few well-written ones that i remember being my favorites

no matter how long the day is (i’ll come home to you) by alby_mangroves and talkplaylove: steve is the regular canon captain america struggling to adjust to modern day life. he meets bucky, a civilian bookshop owner, and they bond while bucky helps to ground him in modern life

thirty-eight days and counting by thecommodore_squid: bucky is in witness protection and steve is the agent assigned to protect him. posing as his husband ofc. clintasha is there as a supporting couple

various stucky fics by thebrotherswinchester: these fics were all deleted from ao3 bc the author started publishing real books but you can download the pdfs from that link. i don’t remember the plots of most of them but i know they were well-written. the reason i bring them up is bc this author wrote one of my favorite fics ever which i’ll mention later

where there’s no end or need for goodbyes by buckyjerkbarnes: bucky is a lighthouse keeper and steve washes up on his island after a storm one day. bucky patches him up and they start to get to know each other. i really debated including this one bc it was my white whale when i was in the stucky trenches. it’s a wip that was abandoned halfway through and steve and buckys relationship isn’t even close to being resolved. but the writing is good enough that i think it’s worth the lack of closure and you can just like imagine for yourself what happens next

for other fandoms

i’m assuming you know the spn classics but my personal favorites are and this, your living kiss and so says the sword

this could be a city by cherryice: spn, deanbenny. i have to spread the deanbenny agenda or i’ll die. alternate s8 where benny stays in the bunker. examines and begins to dismantle the tenets of monster hunting. found family galore. plate tectonics. my deanbenny scholar bestie swears by the rest of cherryice’s fics too but this is the only one of theirs i’ve personally read

tell me about the big bang by thebrotherswinchester: star wars, finnpoe. post-tfa character study of finn adjusting to. like. being a person instead of a stormtrooper. it was written before tlj so there’s no reference to any of that bullshit. this is the fic i mentioned before. its one of my favorite fics of all time and i reread it yearly. it’s got a few off moments but if you’re not a militant finn stan like me they won’t bother you

i loved you first by thirdactlove: tenet, protagoneil. only read this one if you’ve seen tenet as it won’t really make sense otherwise. follows neil before, during, and after the events of the movie and details his relationship with the protagonist. the sequel follows the protagonist and does the same from his own pov. had me writhing around in my bed at 3am out of misery and lovesickness

#i went through my entire ao3 history for this #i think i still haven’t read at least 75% of the fics in my history and are only in there bc i stuck in my read later #and then forgot about them #anyway. welcome back to 2016. reccing st*cky fic #ask

[hollandorks]

you’ve been thinking about me 🥺🥺 MISS YOU SO MUCH also so fucking excited for SITN im gonna be checking EXTREMELYYYYY frequently!! ❤️

and yes lmao i’m glad we’ve cleared the air!! but it’s SO weird he didn’t like me back because everyone else (including me) felt like he did. to be fair it’s only been 2 weeks but the vibes were fucking there and it was SO weird he didn’t reciprocate it. but also he’s so fucking weird and i just wanted a kiss (i would hate to date him) so it’s no big loss or anything, just absolutely embarrassing HAHAH but we’ve talked and we’re all good since then!

but he’s literally so weird. he told me once that he makes strap on harnesses for his lesbian besties and all i could do was fucking blink. and then he said that he made one for his bisexual girlfriend (they’re non-monogamous) for her to use on others and on him?? literally just stood there. he says things that makes my brain fucking short circuit

hope you’ve been doing well❤️

So glad you've been having a good time, seriously!! I've been waiting to see if you'd be able to send a little update honestly 😂

Lmaooo you'd hate to date him 💀 that's so funny to me for some reason. That's weird though especially if everyone was picking up on those vibes! Oh well, sometimes like is Like That

Also what the fuck 😂 my brain short circuited a little reading that I cannot imagine someone saying that stuff to me in real life! I'd be just fucking blinking too, I don't blame you 😂

But yeah I've been doing well!! Writing so much between making MOTN a "real novel" and working on SITN and working on a Neil (Tenet) fic too! My brain is overloading!

#asks #rosie 🌹

[wanderedaway]

🌹

Again from my TENET WIP. A little context is needed on this one. 😅Neil thought he would provide an anxious OC with a distraction in the form of him letting her do up his tie for him. *runs and hides*

There was an awkwardness to her movements as Neil watched her. His plan hadn’t quite worked the way he hoped. The distraction wasn’t enough to take away her anxiety. Perhaps he himself is the problem, but he couldn’t imagine why.

#ask game #wip game #🙈

[itsnothingbutluck]

“Don’t try to understand it, feel it,” Clémence Poésy’s physics whizz suggests, which proves sound advice, since the plot is quite literally the opposite of straightforward. As Washington investigates the provenance of inverted bullets – “relics of a future war”, Poésy calls them – he is drawn into a far-reaching conspiracy involving the Russian oligarch Andrei Sator (an enjoyably bloodcurdling Kenneth Branagh), a child of one of the Soviet ‘hidden cities’ of the Cold War era whose temporal meddlings could end up jackknifing reality itself.

The Nolan project that Tenet most closely resembles is his existential heist thriller Inception, from 2010. But while Inception’s nested-worlds premise could be explained in the abstract – and in fact was, for much of its opening hour – the mechanics of Tenet only really make sense when you’re watching them work, since to put them into words you’d probably have to invent a new tense first. In line with its palindromic title, the film’s action set-pieces fold neatly down the middle, with characters moving through them in both chronological directions. 

Nolan’s eye for spectacle is as hawklike as ever, but it’s the uncanny juxtaposition of backward and forward movement – as seen in, for instance, a fist fight between Washington and an inverted opponent – that proves to be Tenet’s defining effect.

This is hardly unexplored cinematic terrain: throughout his career, the great surrealist Jean Cocteau was a reverse-motion addict, while in his 1927 film October, Sergei Eisenstein offered the chilling vision of a toppled statue of the Tsar heaving itself back aloft as the counterrevolutionary forces went on the attack.

But Nolan’s films have always been less concerned with showing you new things than making you look at the world in new ways. As with Inception’s anti-gravity corridor walk – which was first pulled off by Douglas Fairbanks in 1919 – a silent-era technique is made to feel as fresh as the day it was first seen through feats of unparalleled imaginative force.

Plotting, choreographing and editing the thing must have been a living nightmare, yet watching it is often thrillingly intuitive. Tenet is stitched through with subliminal clues and ingenious shorthand, from reversed sound effects and music – Ludwig Göransson, rather than Hans Zimmer, wrote the shuddering, synth-driven score – to those supremely haunting masks, which indicate the wearer is operating in rewind, since normal air is toxic to inverted lungs.

Feeling your heart and brain race to keep up is a significant part of the fun here, and in that unique and unmistakable Nolan-esque way, there is a series of exhilarating mental snaps whenever the two temporal perspectives intermesh, like the teeth on opposite sides of a zip. As for the parts you won’t and can’t, appreciate first time around – well, rewatching is always an option. If Tenet does revive the British box office, as cinemas are praying it will, that will be down in no small part to the fact you have to see it at least three times to be sure you understood it.

Washington, you’ll be relieved to hear, is as adrift in all of this as we are. But at least he has a handful of allies, foremost among them Robert Pattinson’s Neil, a crumpled expat he meets in Mumbai, on a mission that involves a reverse bungee-jump up the flank of a crumbling high-rise. (Again, the tailoring is to die for: in one sequence, Pattinson’s subtly checked double-breasted jacket made me gasp in a way I’d more typically associate with the brachiosaur scene in Jurassic Park.)

Michael Caine, Nolan’s longtime talisman, plays a silvery MI6 spook in a single scene that’s by turns droll and poignant, while Elizabeth Debicki is the upper-crust English wife of Branagh’s oligarch, and an inspired 21st century spin on the Hitchcock blonde. 

The depth, subtlety and wit of Pattinson and Debicki’s performances only becomes fully apparent once you know where Tenet is going, or perhaps that should be where it’s been. Still confused? Don’t be. Or rather do be, and savour it. This is a film that will cause many to throw up their hands in bamboozlement – and many more, I hope, to clasp theirs in awe and delight...

#Tenet movie review

[athenaeum-simps]

Credit:- @filmcapri on Instagram

#neil tenet #the protagonist tenet #tenet fanfic #tenet spoilers #robert pattinson tenet #tenet #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson batman #robert pattinson edit #robert pattinson fanfic #robert pattinson imagine #robert pattinson twilight #neil tenet fanfic #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet x reader #christopher nolan

[neutron-stars-collision]

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 1 - Stratford Underground Station

Masterlist Summary: Everybody knows anything can happen on London tube. That includes meeting a handsome stranger with a strange name, who doesn't mind saving a ballerina in distress. Chapter playlist Warnings: Swearing and E-rated language (as the preview already shows). Author's Notes: So it's finally here, my opus magnum. Or so I hope. As I've hinted before, this project is the love-child of a few things - my unfading obsession with Neil, fascination with London and the love of public transport. Or something along those lines. I've no idea how long it'll be, or the exact details of what's going to happen, but I know that it's going to be fun. For both me, and them. And you, too, I hope. Chapter titles come from station names (in case you've been wondering) and I decided to go wild and attach a short, chapter-centric playlist to each of them, because why not. Enjoy and please, let me know what you think 💕 Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

The discovery that it would be a day came a mere two hours after the harsh sound of your phone alarm. Its harbinger took the form of Liam – a moderately tall, dark-haired man with an acceptable face and an ability to make you come that did not seem to get the hint.

Instead, he continuously nagged you for days after the (absolutely intended) ghosting you have implemented. While you would admit it was harsh, it was also not your fault that you had enough of him after the hook-up no 5. It was just fine, nothing spectacular and, most importantly, it was getting predictable. Solution? Ending the situationship before it could become a chore rather than a pleasure. Problem? Liam did not seem to think the same.

So, when, this morning, you finished the lukewarm coffee and picked up the phone to check the socials before leaving, only to find another string of texts with pathetic emojis, the mood has soured. It was nothing new, just more hearts, pleading eyes and invocations to your goodness, all culminating in the same way. With another proposition of date, with another love confession he could not have possibly meant. This time, you’ve had enough. You ignored the urge to smash the phone and instead broke the silence by sending him a simple message – Fuck off. With that, you let out a string of curses that probably made poor Miss Stevens next door recoil in disgust and blocked Liam. The triumphant spark did not outweigh the annoyance, however.

The second blow of the day came not that much later and could also easily be blamed on Liam. Or so it was easier to believe. There was no sense of distraction as you tied up the ribbons of your pointe shoes and started warming up. And, at first, it was all just as it was supposed to. You welcomed the opening notes of the coda enthusiastically, happy to go through the steps just as you were supposed to be. As you were taught. A turn after turn, the burning in your legs felt like a benediction. That was what you were always supposed to do.

Until it started to feel different.

One misstep was instantly noticed by Jane, who danced alongside you, perfecting the same choreography. You could hear her quiet gasp, wordlessly pointing out the mistake you would never have missed anyway. In a split second, you knew it was enough to throw you off, losing the tempo and balance, barely managing not to sprain your ankle and topple onto the parquet. Refusing to look at Jane, you slid down the wall by the barre and let out a frustrated groan. Not long after that, you decided to check out of the studio. One humiliation was quite enough.

By the time you had set onto Southwark station, intending to catch the tube back home, you were half contemplating unblocking Liam to sue him for mental damages. And the cost of reparations of your dignity. It seemed like a fair deal, considering everything. On autopilot, you descended the steps to the station, welcoming the cooling air of the metal-plated hall. While the whiteish subway tiles in most stations felt like home, the futuristic tinge of Southwark had always felt special. Even if the afternoon bustle could sour your mood and make you throw daggers at any human in your path. There was a dose of relief in the knowledge that it had already been done. You were pissed off beyond measure.

Any innocent bystander could probably see it in the angry square of your shoulders as you strode through the ticketing hall and past the gates. After all those years, there was no need to check the signs; your body knew where to go. Down the escalator, following the graphite signage leading towards the correct platform. Once you were there, you looked up at the timing screen to check the ETAs. Stanmore 2 mins. Thank fuck. Moving down the platform like god intended, you got lost in the chaotic ambience. Sometimes, especially on those difficult days, the noise was better than any music you could listen to. The babbling children, the chatting adults, and, if you were lucky, an odd bark or two in between. That, combined with the PA overhead, was enough to ground you. To take in that deeper breath.

Only that tell-tale whoosh of the approaching train could pull you back into the moment, the body yet again taking the needed steps without you ever telling it to. One step back, not crossing the yellow line. Two steps to the side, aligning with the platform edge doors, yet not standing in the way of those leaving. By the time the train arrived, you were exactly where you were supposed to be. A surveying look inside the cart told you the crowds had been avoided. Luckily. With only a handful of people occupying the space, you stepped aboard and zoned in on one of the empty seats by the window.

It was then that fate chose to intervene again.

You barely stepped in the right direction before the train started again, the sudden movement throwing you off balance and making you drop the bag hung precariously on your shoulder. You watched it fall, unzipped pouch spilling the insides onto the dirty grey floor. Another string of curses lodged in your throat as you knelt among the wreckage of personal items. Before you could reach for the notebook, another hand appeared on the edge of your vision. Long, fair-skinned fingers met yours over the moleskin cover, making you look up and follow the outline of a person. Up over the legs, clad in black jeans and over the bare forearms, revealed by the rolled-up sleeves of a dress, pinstripe shirt. Until you met the striking blue eyes of the man kneeling in front of you, having joined the fray. The stranger stared back, his piercing gaze roaming over your features, seemingly just as struck as you were.

A beat passed, and neither of you moved. You glanced up, taking note of the dirty blonde hair falling over his forehead in disarray. The announcement over the system began calling up Waterloo. It was the wake-up you both seemed in need of. He was the first to shake off the stupor, snatching the notebook to place it in your waiting palm. He shot you a friendly smile, the expression brightening his stunning features.

“Bad day?” his husky voice was another pleasant surprise, shooting through your brain like the restart to the systems you seemed to have been missing.

You looked up to find him one step ahead again. There was something mysterious in his handsome face, instantly making you forego the suspicions against strangers. This one did seem at all dangerous.

At least, you hoped he wasn’t.

A sardonic smile invited itself onto your face. For the first time since the morning, the expression was not forced.

“You could say that” picking up the bag, you accepted the belongings he had collected from the floor and hoped to convey the gratitude through a simple word “Thanks,”

“No worries. Hope that’s everything…” the stranger threw a final glance at the cart floor and got up, brushing the dust off his knees.

The nagging feeling in the back of your head did not ease off, helping you decide what the next step should be. After all, there was no reason to cut the interaction short. One glance out the window told you there was still time. The train had just left the Waterloo station, giving you at least a quarter of an hour till you had to get off.

Perhaps, that was your sign from the petty destiny to get your shit together. Strictly speaking.

“Looks like it,” dropping the remaining items into the pouch, you extended your hand in greeting, “I’m Y/N,” raising your head to find his gaze, you were welcomed with yet another bright smile.

Judging by the lines around his mouth and crinkles in the corners of his eyes, your mysterious saviour did smile a lot. The realisation only strengthened the conviction, pulling you into his orbit effortlessly.

His warm palm engulfed yours in a firm handshake. It lasted just a second too long, yet no complaints were to be raised.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Neil,” the gleam in his eyes was like the poisoned edge of a dagger, a fatal weapon to strike you down should you be reckless.

You knew for sure that face would be hard to forget. Even if you were to never see it again after today.

“You don’t look like a Neil,” catching onto the peculiarity of his name, you shot him a cheeky smile.

Finally remembering what started the ordeal, you took the seat you had been hovering over and motioned for Neil to join you. He did not hesitate.

It only made you like him more.

“Elaborate, please,” the curious tint in his voice, completed by a deadpan look, made you grin, unable to defy his charm.

Not that you were trying to, anyway.

Making a show of giving yourself time to think of an answer, perfected by the loud hum and a hand stroking your chin, you measured him critically. Still amazed by the man Transport for London put on your path. By the seemingly faultless features, harsh lines of his cheekbones and the kind eyes that still held uncertainty that you were all too familiar with.

“You know… a little more geriatric. A little less dashing,” you sent Neil a wink, watching with fascination as the pinkish blush spread over his cheeks.

That sort of reaction was always a compliment. A sign that you should keep going because it could only get better. The frustrating morning had been almost forgotten, having stood no chance against the unpredictability of the interaction.

You could see Neil process the compliment with rapidly blinking eyelids and a parted mouth. Westminster had been called before he spoke again:

“That’s a new one, but I’ll take it,” the blush had faded slightly, yet the disbelief in his pretty eyes told you he was not used to the flattery.

Which was a surprise considering the way he looked. But that, like all the other discoveries you had made within minutes, would have no application. You would likely never see him again.

“You should. I don’t hit on complete strangers every day,” you sent him a pointed look, meaning every word and hoping Neil would see that.

The amused smile he cracked along with a chuckle, were the rewards for the risks you had taken. Being that forward with a stranger could backfire terribly. You had first-hand experience of that. This time, though, no alarm bells were to be heard as you waited for Neil’s response, with your gaze fixed on his face. If only because it was hard to look away.

“Now I’m flattered,” the sparks in his blue eyes burned bright as he took a cursory look out the window and then back to face you with complete focus, “So… do you want to tell me about your day?” the lack of judgement in his gaze helped you decide before you even knew you were considering it.

Usually, confiding in random people met on the tube sounded like a bad idea. Not entirely off-brand for your poor judgements, but still. But this interaction was anything but usual. The temptation was too big to be ignored. You twisted in the plastic seat to face him properly and channelled the anger dormant beneath your skin. It was all too easy to do.

“There’s this guy… We’ve had sex a couple of times, and it was quite good, but now he wants more, and I- I’m not even sure I believe love exists, let alone feel that way about him. Trouble is he doesn’t get the hint, so…” becoming aware you unloaded the whole speech without taking a break to breathe, you took a greedy inhale and spit out the conclusion with a frustrated huff, “He’s just pissed me off” it was a lot.

You could tell Neil was slowly coming to the same conclusions from the dumbfounded look on his face as he processed your rant. He blinked, unseeingly staring at the Jubilee line plan above the opposite seats. The apology was ready on the tip of your tongue when he finally spoke again:

“Overeager?” the sympathetic wince in his face made that same affection stir in your heart.

All because he understood. He got it. And that was rare. Yet again, you contemplated unblocking Liam. This time, to send him Neil’s phone number with an annotation – This guy gets it. He can explain.

But it was hard to say whether Neil would be up for such a task.

“Mm, yeah,” you offered him a tight-lipped smile and a nod, confirming the theory.

“Sorry,” it was your turn to suffer through a double take.

With incredulity filling every inch of your soul, you stared at him in confusion:

“What for?” as the train arrived at another station, you glanced up to check you had not somehow missed your stop.

But it was fine. There was still enough time to continue what was slowly becoming the most fascinating conversation of the previous couple of months, if not years.

It was Neil’s turn to be amused. His eyes roamed over your face as his lips quirked into a smirk. The cheeky expression sent your heart tumbling through the ribcage. You knew he could be dangerous. You were right. Again.

Yet, no sense of foreboding danger could make you look away. That was for the weak. Or the smarter.

“Being a representative of the male species,” Neil shrugged as if his answer did not leave you agape with amazement, “I know almost everything is our fault, one way or another,” the slight grimace passing through his face told you he knew that was an understatement.

But it was better than nothing. Better than the load of self-entitlement and egocentrism displayed by most of the men you had ever met. It sure did set him apart.

“Guess that’s true,” nodding in agreement, you chose to forego the subtlety and reached out to pat his hand, “Thank you, though,” yet met his eyes, not trying to hide the extent of impression he had left on you “I can already tell you’re a better representant of the species than Liam,”

The fading anger at that man seemed so distant now. Like a dream that you could no longer remember, except for how it made you feel. Liam would stay blocked and hopefully never seen again, but now you could finally see yourself having a pleasant evening. That felt like a reward in itself.

“And he’s called Liam? Good god,” Neil’s dismayed tone was the one to bring you back to the present.

The smile played in the corner of his lips. The amused expression was fast becoming your favourite. Which could be problematic, but you were never the one to search your soul if that was uncalled for. Which it definitely wasn’t.

“I know” sharing an eye-roll with your companion, you chose to focus the attention on that second part of the shit day, “The other thing that happened was how I fucked up the ballet practice” almost automatically, you winced, self-consciously rolling the right ankle as if feeling the phantom pain of the twist that never came (thank god) “But it also can be blamed on him,”

Too caught up in the thoughts of vengeance you would never actually implement, you missed Neil’s surprise, reflecting through the widened eyes and an intense stare boring through your temple.

What you did not miss was a question uttered with so much disbelief that your head swivelled in its direction faster than you thought possible:

“Hold on, ballet practice?” Neil’s scrunched-up face, complete with a frown between eyebrows and mouth agape, was the reason for your giggle.

“Yup, I’m a ballerina at the Royal Ballet,” there was an unusual sense of pride in the proclamation.

Probably because it had been a long time since you got a reaction this stunned. You did not remember the last time someone looked starstruck when hearing about your occupation.

“I’ve never met one before,” his blue eyes still roamed over your face with amazement as Neil confirmed the obvious.

While attention was always pleasant and a reason you got into professional ballet in the first place, this kind of focus felt different. It made the rare blush dust your cheeks as joy surged in your veins from the sheer force of being noticed. From being seen through the best you could offer rather than the multitude of shortcomings that were all easy to find.

“Well, now you have,” you opened your arms in the ta-dah motion and added, “A second soloist, to be exact,” the hierarchical promotion was still an additional point of pride.

A result of years of practice and mental conditioning to try and improve. The culmination of hours of pep talks, pleading to your strength not to give up. To keep on trying. A proof that you were good enough. But it was also a reminder that you were not there yet. That there was still more to achieve.

“I’ve no clue what that means,” the apologetic tone in Neil’s voice was another reason for a smile.

Without thinking, you nudged his shoulder with yours and grinned upon noticing the bashful blush creeping back onto his cheeks. That alone was a reason to delve into the explanation:

“That I’ve still got a long way to go if I want to get promoted to principal dancer. Which is the dream,” hope waged war with scepticism as you chose to stare at the window opposite the seats, taking note of the passing darkness of the tunnels outside. That moment of wistfulness inspired the next thing you said, “You could come to see me if you wanted to,” it was another risk taken.

Another potential to end the conversation prematurely by misjudging the limit. Before you could find the tenacity to see the reaction, Neil’s question got rid of the doubts:

“Are you hitting on strangers again?” the smile in his voice was matched by a cheeky grin on his face.

The brightness in his eyes told you he was enjoying the conversation, that it was not just you who been silently wishing for more time. For more opportunities to continue the back-and-forth, testing the limits of what was acceptable within an unusual connection like yours. Because, surely, there were limits. Right?

“You’re not a stranger anymore, Neil,” instead of searching for the lines drawn in the metaphorical sand, you laid a careful hand on his shoulder and watched with the breath caught in your chest as he glanced at it and back at your face. The only indication that too was not a misstep was the darkening shade of pink on his cheeks and the persistent smile, motivating you to land a double strike, “I am, though. Is that bad?” innocently batting your lashes, you signed off the move with a quick stroke of fingers, tracing the collar of Neil’s shirt.

He swallowed hard, clearly reacting to your risqué move. The goosebumps rose on his skin following your touch, making your smile widen. Unwilling to stop the fascinating game just yet, your fingertips skimmed down the front of his shirt to strengthen the invisible lines in the collar and encircle the tortoiseshell button. As your fingers drifted ever so closer to the bared sliver of the chest revealed by the two buttons left undone, Neil gasped and met your searching gaze with an intense look of his own. It was easy to see the curiosity there, brewing underneath the composure. Not for the first time since you met, you wondered what else was hiding behind that steel-like grip of control. What else was there to discover?

“I’m not complaining,” answering your question with ease, Neil did not flinch away from your taxing gaze.

It was good to know. Just because.

Unable to look away, you realised that your hand was outstretched with the fingers lightly touching the collar of his shirt. The heat from his skin radiated onto your palm, making your fingers flex unconsciously. It was your turn to swallow against the sudden dryness in your throat, as yet again you found yourself arrested by his gaze. Like then, the time seemed frozen, leaving you stranded between one heartbeat and the next. You were content to stay there.

Only the familiar announcement over the PA system could wake you up. The train is now approaching St. John’s Wood. Your body jolted awake with the curse ready on your tongue:

“Shit, that’s my stop” a spiteful glance at the darkness of the tunnels outside was a reflex, born out of the annoyance for the world that did not seem to care about your happiness or the desire to stay in that Jubilee line train cart till the very end of times. The anger passed quickly, yet you knew the frustration would persevere long after you made it home. The only way to push back against it was to turn your focus back to Neil, “It’s been a pleasure. I’d say I won’t forget you, but I’m not sure I can promise that,” the exaggeration in the statement, and the knowledge that it was unlikely you would forget him, were better left unsaid.

As much as the chance meeting was everything you never dreamt of experiencing, it was just that. A pleasant outlier. The one-off happening, that would never happen again. You could feel the sharp prickle of that realisation stab at your consciousness as you checked whether all your belongings were accounted for and got up from the seat. The train was slowing in the approach at the platform, forcing you to grab onto the nearest railing.

“Try your hardest,” Neil’s response made you whip your head back up to stare at him in confusion until the meaning of his words caught up.

Then you could only grin, willing to stretch the limits one last time.

“Or?” the question was accompanied by the tip of your tongue running over your lower lip as your eyes traced Neil’s gaze.

He caught the hook. The intrigue and hunger in his stare proved the point as he glanced at your mouth, not even trying to resist the obvious trick. You were glad it worked.

One look at the world beyond told you there was no time to lose. The familiar voice called out to make sure everyone minded the gaps, and you could not help but throw one final glance at Neil. His dirty blonde strands caught the fluorescents and created a washed-out halo-like effect. The blue eyes were still fixed on you, observing and calculating. Yet again, a wayward thought begged you to stay. To say fuck it and check what could happen if you had more time. But the courage was not quite there when the train came to a stop, and the doors slid open.

Before you could take that decisive step outside, Neil replied:

“I’ll be disappointed,” the smile in his voice was an easy trigger, bringing a breathless chuckle to your lips.

You still laughed as the doors closed behind you and the train started moving away from the platform. You did not look back, letting the crowd of commuters carry you along the tunnels and towards your apartment. It was better that way.

Only once you got back home did you realise one crucial fact. One simple observation easily missed in the rush of thoughts about striking blue eyes and sharp cheekbones. It had been hours since Liam crossed your mind. And somehow, it all made sense.

#neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet 2020 #neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet fanfic #neil tenet imagine #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson imagine #deadlines & commitments

[mariailoveyou-guerin]

they was having a Nolan marathon at the cinemas today N I cant believe he got me crying about the gays again plz they fit every me trope blonde x dark hair he fell first and he fell harder, them only been willing to risk their lives for each other or the world! fcvk u tenet Nolan

Nolan really has me crying about mf Neil and his protagonist boyfriend again in the mf year of 2023 when movie came out 2 years ago now in time it didn’t deserve to come out bc it didnt get the respect it deserved thanks to this stupid pandemic ruined it for us and me N my chance

If ever getting tenet 2 imagine Nolan waited and released tenet now the love and hype it would’ve gotten the same love and hype Oppenheimer is getting bc people can actually go to the cinemas now unlike during when tenet was released in era of a world pandemic which ruined it for

them and the blockbuster the cult following it will get some day soon but should’ve gotten from the first day it was released as it’s the greatest Nolan movie the script is insane deserved Oscar nominations for everything effects acting script the whole lot I’m so mad now being

reminded of what tenet could’ve gotten but didn’t get thanks to the pandemic and racism and stupid people not getting movies! I’m so 😡 it deserves so much better then what it got so much better so did all the actors they were amazing the movie was brilliant phenomenal incredible

like Neil like to say what’s happened has happened anyways tenet 2 Neil who’s also a protagonist and that’s what I think tenet 2 is about! Plz I need tenet 2 about how Neil feel in love with the protagonist which he wasnt supposed to mission wise yet he did from the start the joy

the mf love in his face when he saw the protagonist for the first time him remembering what he likes doesn’t plz he was always jealous about kat! asking if the protagonist was gonna go see her or watch over her from afar, plz they was crying for god sake him giving his piece of

most dangerous weapon to him just so he could go back to keep saving the protagonist because to him that’s more important! Fock you Nolan I’m not gonna watch Oppenheimer out of spite for making me feel this way again and again now I’m 2023 and until I get tenet 2 with Neil being

protagonist which people will love and call it his best work his best movie but as long as we get Neil and protagonist I don’t care as long it’s Pattison and John David! Please god I’m begging I need it now hope I get in 2-3 years which is Nolan script an filming new movie window

I did not just see people shipping Neil and Ives it’s always yt girls doing the most they didn’t even interact except at the last scene or the one scene when he called them please be for real like we get y’all obsessed and always pushing two white males together but stop especially here when Neil only knows and cares about the protagonist also I didn’t see protagonist x Neil not top most romantic real canon Nolan ship even tho it was the most real canon ship but ofc the one that top is a yt mlm ship and ofc article was written by a yt woman who said the movie tenet was Nolan most disappointing cold films yeah she’s insane she’s never watched a movie in her life let alone Nolan movie ever because then she would know this is Nolan greatest or top2-3 greatest movies he’s ever made and she clearly sounds like a yet woman who can’t understand epic good storytelling and plots sad really like please she can’t be for real ofc she said they cuz the lead wasn’t a yt man she finds attractive but a black man like who’s surprised shocked not me same old bullshitt always happening thanks to yt woman who are obsessed with yt mlm ship to a fetishising degree and only care about movies series anything especially ships if it includes 2 yt men

#neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet 2020 #tenet #the protagonist #neil x protagonist #protagonist x Neil #christopher nolan #protagoneil #neiltagonist

[antimonyandthyme]

TENET AU IM OBSESSED god the romantic swells in meeting neil playing when seb sees charles for the first time, the scene in the fucking shipping container when neil is So Immediately concerned that the protagonist has been shot….. charles explaining physics to seb to pass the time…. i’m so……

god. you unlocked a piece of my brain. ANYWAY!

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again people SLEEP on the Tenet soundtrack can you imagine Charles-shades-of-Bruce-Wayne in that suit investigating with FREEPORT playing in the background??

Anyway anon I’m just thinking about the bit where Charles is reprimanding Sebastian for trying to reverse an event that already took place telling him What’s happened, happened, and Sebastian responds I get it now. But it's harder to take things on trust from people speaking half-truths.

And Charles’ look of pure devastation and hurt because this is a Sebastian who doesn’t yet trust Charles fully! (Doesn’t yet love Charles, though he’s on his way.) And Charles has volumes of things he can’t even unload to a Sebastian who doesn’t know him! He can’t ask for comfort, or a shoulder, or any of the affection he was given so freely by a different Sebastian. And all he can breathe out is a very small, very wounded—

That’s not fair.

Scenes, anon! Absolute scenes!

#athy texts #tenet au #sebchal #fanfic #rpf #must write!!! #tenet anon

[imaginedisish]

The Adults are Talking (Tenet) Neil x Reader

A/N: HEY GUYS!!! HERE IS THE SMUT!!! This is my first time writing smut in a long time, so I’m sorry if it’s awkward ahhh!!! It’s 3:30 over here on the East Coast of the US, so I’m going to BEDDDD!!!! Enjoy!

Summary: (dom!)Neil teaches you a lesson for being forgetful and late, and it’s the type of lesson you're sure to never forget. 

Warnings: SMUT, SO MUCH SMUT. Overstimulation, lot’s of cursing, minor violence, and a very dominant Neil, so this is very much 18+, read at your own risk...

Word Count: 3,747

I’m so fucking late, You think to yourself. 

Nervousness swells in your gut as your black boots press harshly into green grass below your feet. Your eyes search the crowd around you as shoulders hurriedly crash into your chest. No one apologizes, they just keep moving as they try to get a better view of what lies at the front of the crowd. 

You were 10 minutes late for a training session with the new recruits. You knew that Neil would most likely tease you endlessly for it. You were late because of him, after all. 

You and Neil had been secretly together for quite sometime, which meant extensive sneaking around, just like a couple of teenagers. Usually you would go to his room while everyone was still eating dinner in the cafeteria, spend some time together, and then head back into your room to go to sleep. No one saw a thing. No questions were asked. 

But this time was different. This time, you let yourself fall asleep in his arms. 

I’m an idiot, You think to yourself as you push a hand through your dampened hair. Neil decided to steal the keys to your room and run into the shower ahead of you as a playful punishment for your forgetfulness. 

“I don’t know what to say, but I’m disappointed, (Y/N)!” Neil sarcastically sings through the other side of the bathroom door. 

You rush over to the door, and knock a few times. “Come on Neil, let me in, or at least give me my keys so I can shower in my room!” You can’t help but smile, despite the fact that you were definitely going to be late. 

“No, I’m teaching you a lesson here,” Neil pauses, “And then after the training session, I’ll teach you another.” You feel your cheeks flush with redness. 

Your heart somersaults in your chest at the thought of the other lesson Neil had planned.

You look around, forcing yourself to focus. You can easily tell that you stick out like a sore thumb amongst the new recruits. You look far too polished and put together to be new. You’re too…sophisticated. Your black, faux leather dress pants and tight black turtleneck clash against the beige and green bodies spread across the open field. Still, despite your appearance, you get the feeling that you’re a freshman being judged by the older kids, when in reality it should be the other way around. You shake the feeling off, remembering that you have nothing to prove. 

While you weren’t recruited to Tenet too long ago, you were granted extremely high clearance almost immediately. TP saw something special in you from the very second he met you. You were skilled in hand to hand combat, and you could shoot a gun better than anyone, better than Ives, better than Neil, even better than TP.  After all, you were a high level CIA operative before you were recruited to join Tenet. Your training goes back years. 

“(Y/N)!” You hear a familiar voice call out from the near distance. You stand on your tippy toes, searching for the dirty blonde head that matched the voice. 

Out of the corner of your eye you spot two slender, toned arms waving erratically at the front of the crowd. He smirks, and waves even faster as he realizes that you’ve found him. You push through the recruits as you get closer to the front. 

All of a sudden, a hand grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the sea of people. 

“Took you long enough,” Neil says, a cocky grin spread across his face. Your heart thumps in your chest. His long fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. He pulls you closer to him, and brings his lips to your right ear, “Try to be faster next time, love, and maybe I’ll go easier on you.” 

You feel your face redden with heat. He lets you go, but you’re all shaken up now. You almost wish he held on. A shiver travels down your spine. Your mind is too foggy with thoughts of Neil to recognize that Ives had already started talking. 

You clear your throat, still focused on what Neil had just said. “G-go easier on me?” 

With the blink of an eye, Neil grabs your waist, and pins you down to the ground. He presses his right hand into the center of your chest. He pulls a knife from his back left pocket and points it in the direction of your throat. The recruits rowdily cheer Neil on. He smirks, basking in the attention. You can’t even imagine how red your face is now. 

“And at this point,” Ives pauses as a slight smile tugs at his lips. He looks down to you, “We can see that Neil has the advantage. It’s safe to say that (Y/N) would be dead if she were the enemy.” Neil puts the knife back into his pocket, and stands up.

He extends a hand out to you, and you grab it, grateful for the assistance. That is, until he twists your arm, turning you to face the crowd. His right arm pulls your back into his chest. Your hips brush against his. He pulls you even closer so that you’re glued against him. You’re stuck; there’s nowhere to go. He takes his knife out of his pocket and brings it to your neck again. 

You swear that you can feel him pushing his crotch against your lower half. 

“Are you alright, darling,” He mumbles against the skin of your neck. You can feel his gaze land on your face. You swallow harshly and nod. “Good,” Neil says in response. “I wouldn’t want you too beat up, especially for later.” 

Later? You think to yourself as you ignore Ives’s description of Neil’s move. “What’s happening later?” You whisper back to him. 

He lets you go and gives you a smug look that reads, You should know already, love. 

You breathe in sharply as your mind races with thoughts of Neil. Now wasn’t the time for this. You were embarrassing yourself in front of the new recruits. They were going to think you were weak. 

You tilt your head side to side, cracking your neck slightly. You roll your shoulders back and get into your fighting stance. You’re ready this time. You tune everything out and focus on Neil’s movements. He flashes a smile your way but you know he’s trying to distract you. The recruits’ cheers quiet down a bit as their interest piques. 

“You’re so unbelievably cocky, Neil. It’ll be the death of you,” You playfully remark. Neil furrows his brows and squints his eyes. He takes a single step towards you and you take a single step back. 

Neil chuckles, “What? You’re too scared to get any closer to me?” You can tell Neil’s guard is down. You’ve got him right where you want him.

The left corner of your mouth turns up slightly. You rush towards him, stepping onto your left foot and round housing Neil on the right side of his stomach. He buckles over. You feel a twinge of guilt before you take another step, sliding down to the ground, and kicking your legs into Neil’s ankles in a circular motion from left to right. You sweep him off his feet and he falls to the ground. You stand back up and look down at him. 

“Now that’s what I call a comeback!” Ives shouts. The new recruits roar in excitement. You reach out your right hand to Neil and he takes it. He gets back on his feet and brushes off the dirt from his navy blue dress shirt.

Neil shakes his head in defeat. “Yeah, I guess she got me back,” He says taking a step towards you. He lowers his voice and says something that’s clearly only meant for you to hear, 

“But I’ll get you back later.” 

Later, the word repeats itself over and over in your head. 

“Alright everyone! We’ll reconvene after lunch!” Ives yells, and the recruits make their way back into the boxy white building that houses the Tenet headquarters. 

Neil and Ives walk a few feet away from you and begin to chat. Ives briefly looks concerned, but Neil waves his hand, appearing to reassure him about something you’re not supposed to hear. Ives shakes his head as the concerned look falls back upon his face. He breaks his stare from Neil and looks towards you. 

You take that as your cue to walk over. “I kicked your ass there, didn’t I?” You say jokingly, nudging into Neil’s side with your elbow. 

Neil sighs and moves his head to turn towards you. “The adults are talking, (Y/N), pipe down love.” The sense of elitism in Neil’s words are carried through an ever so dominant tone. You know he’s teasing you, but you can also tell he’s trying to get under you skin. 

Ives chuckles, “The ‘adults’? Neil, since when have you proved to me that you’re an adult?” You can’t help laugh at Ives’s dig at Neil. Ives’s laughing continues as turns away from you and Neil and follows closely behind the recruits. 

You take a step forwards to walk behind Ives, expecting Neil to come along as well, but he doesn’t. He grabs your upper arm and pulls you towards him. 

“Thought you could get away?” He stares into your eyes. “You didn’t forget about what I said earlier, did you?” He questions, his grip growing tighter around your arm. 

Your heart pounds in your chest as you think of some sort of response. “I-I-,” But you’re speechless. 

Neil’s eyes pierce through your soul and he parts his lips, “I believe I told you that I’d be teaching you a lesson, didn’t I?” His domineering voice leaves goosebumps on your arms. 

You look around, noticing that everyone had already gone inside. It was just you and Neil now. 

Neil pulls you closer to him yet again. “You still haven’t answered, love,” He says softly as his free hand glides down your side, settling finally on your hip. 

“Yes,” You mumble under your breath. You can’t concentrate. You’re too wrapped up in the thought of Neil pinning you down to the ground and taking you right here and now. 

Neil releases your hip and begins to walk you towards the building. “Good,” He says nonchalantly. You walk across the green field and onto the concrete sidewalk that outlines the shape of the headquarters. You finally approach a door. Neil opens it and brings you inside. He instinctively lets go of your arm the second you enter the building, as the sounds of people and the flow of pedestrian traffic overwhelms your senses. 

“Follow me,” Neil demands. He walks in front of you, and you follow close behind. You walk down a series of similar hallways before recognizing where you are. 

You’re headed towards the living quarters of the building. 

You swallow hard, trying to keep up with Neil. He turns around to catch a glimpse of you, and notices that you’re starting a slow down a bit. 

He grins confidently as he closes the gap between you and him. “What? Are you overwhelmed, darling?” He questions as his hands land on your waist. 

“Neil,” You whisper, “What if someone sees us?” 

Neil pulls you against his chest. “That just makes it more exciting, doesn’t it?”  

You gasp as he pulls the collar of your turtleneck down a bit, bringing his lips to your neck, planting soft kisses on your now exposed skin. He sucks lightly. You look around. The coast is clear, but you know it won’t be for long. 

“N-Neil,” You moan. Neil’s lips leave your neck in response, and he brings his left hand up to cover your mouth. 

He looks left, and then right, searching for somewhere to go. There’s a single door at the end of the hallway. He uncovers your mouth and grabs your wrist. He practically runs into the door before twisting the knob and pushing it open. 

He pulls you into the room as the door shuts behind you. 

“What happened to going back to your room?” You ask, confused as to why you’re in what appears to be a dark, tiny, unused office.

“Because, I couldn’t wait any longer.”

You feel your need for him growing. He takes a step towards you so that your back is up against the door. Neil reaches behind you and twists the lock. 

You can feel yourself getting more and more wet. You need friction between your legs. The sensation is driving you crazy.

Neil’s hands secure themselves onto your hips, pushing you harder into the door. His lips find themselves in the crook of your neck again, but this time Neil is rougher. He lightly sucks your skin, intending to leave his mark on your. You moan in pleasure as Neil’s right hand finds its way in between your legs, spreading them a part slightly. 

“You need me, don’t you?” He asks as his lips leave your neck. His ocean eyes deeply stare into yours. 

You breathe shallowly. “Y-yes,” You stutter. 

Neil grins. “I thought so.” He grabs your waist again, picking you up and setting you down on the desk that’s on other side of the tiny room. He grabs the inside of your thighs and parts your legs with his hand, filling the newly made gap with his body. He rests his right hand on your thigh, and his left on your waist. 

“Please, Neil,” You murmur, wanting him to touch you where you need him most. 

“Please what?” Neil asks, his face moves closer to yours. 

“Please,” You pause as your heart beats out of your chest, “Touch me.”

Neil’s lips crash into yours as his hands wander to the hem of your pants. His fingers move down to play with your button before undoing it completely. He finds his way to your zipper and carelessly unzips your pants. His hands move back up to the top of your trousers. Much to your dismay, his lips leave yours. You groan at the loss. 

Your unhappiness ends almost instantly as you feel Neil slide your pants down your legs, discarding them to the side. He pushes himself back in between your legs and brings his thumb over the your underwear to your clit, slowly sliding down to explore the rest of you. 

He lands over your folds and smiles. “You’re already wet for me and I’ve barely touched you at all,” Neil says. He takes his hand away from your heat and brings it up towards the hem of your panties. He plays with the elastic band for a second and brings his attention to your eyes, searching for consent. 

You nod your head in anticipation, and he pulls at the hem, bringing them down your legs, and throwing them on the floor. 

Neil grabs the bottom of your shirt next, pulling it up over your head as you lift your arms to give him easier access. He places his hands on your back and starts to mess with the hooks of your bra. With ease, he undoes the clasp, and your bra falls to the side. 

He steps back, looking you up and down. You bring your knees together, rubbing them against one another in search of some sort of friction. Neil shakes his head and spreads your legs again. 

“You haven’t earned that yet,” He breathes. His hands grab your waist and slide up the sides of your body. He stops at your breasts, playing lightly with your nipples. 

You gasp at the feeling, needing more. Neil squeezes them tightly. He smirks, and then moves his hands back down to your hips. 

“What do you want me to do?” Neil asks. His breathing becomes heavier. Despite his attempt to be the dominant one, you can sense his need for you.

You take a deep breath as his hand moves down towards your heat. “I want you to make me come, please,” You plead. 

You gasp as Neil’s thumb brushes over your clit. It’s slow at first, but still enough to make you moan. He picks up the pace a bit, rubbing small, slow circles where you need them most. You throw your head back and moan. Neil smirks, loving how he’s making you feel. 

Neil’s circles get faster, pushing you closer to the edge. You shut your eyes tight, letting the pleasure take over.

Abruptly, Neil’s touch disappears, leaving you feeling cold and empty. You groan in agony, wanting more. “N-Neil don’t st-,” 

You’re cut off by a warm, wet sensation at your folds. You open your eyes to see Neil’s head in between your legs. His tongue rolls over your clit. Suddenly, you feel a finger at your entrance.

“Shit, N-Neil,” You cry out in pleasure as Neil pushes his middle finger inside of you. He sucks roughly on your clit, pushing his finger in and out. 

Neil adds his index finger, and it’s already too much to handle. “Fuck,” You whimper as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to climaxing. 

“You like that?” Neil says, his words vibrating against you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. 

You moan in response, but that’s not enough for Neil. He takes his lips off of you, and takes his fingers out. “I asked you a question, (Y/N).”

You want him to fill you up again, to make you feel whole again. “Y-yes Neil, I like it. You feel amaz-, oh fuck!” You practically scream as Neil shoves his fingers back inside of you, his tongue lapping at your folds. 

“You taste amazing,” Neil says against your clit before sucking on you again. His words alone could take you there. 

“Neil I-,” You try to get your words out, but you can’t form a proper sentence. 

“I love when you say my name like that, darling,” He says, sucking even harder now. 

You can’t hold back anymore. “I’m so close,” You mumble. “I wanna come, please,” You beg. 

“Then come for me, (Y/N), now,” Neil commands. You do as he says. You feel your walls tightening, you feel yourself collapsing around his touch. 

“Holy sh-shit,” You stutter. You come around his fingers as you throw your head back against the wall. 

Neil removes his fingers from you and stands up. 

“I think it’s my turn now,” Neil remarks slyly, undoing his belt. You feel butterflies flutter in your stomach. 

You watch closely as he slips his pants down his legs and steps out of them. He brings his hands up to the top of his shirt and unbuttons each button one at a time. He throws his shirt to the side. 

You gulp harshly as he pulls his boxers down, revealing his hardened member. He gets closer to you, pushing your hair out of your face, searching your eyes once more for consent as he lines himself up with your opening. 

You nod.

“F-fuck!” You cry out, feeling the overstimulation wash over every inch of your body as Neil enters you. He grabs your right breast with his hand.

Neil starts out slow. “You feel so good around me,” He says, moving rhythmically in and out of you. 

He then brings one hand up to your chin, and the other to the middle of your back, forcing you to sit up and stare into his eyes. His lips meet yours hungrily, searching for something more. Neil picks up his pace, growing faster and faster. 

“Neil,” You sigh, “I don’t know how long I can last.” You were already close.

“You got to hold on longer, darling. Don’t come yet.” Even when he whispers he’s commanding. 

“O-okay,” You mumble, bitting down on your lip, trying to hold yourself back. It was all becoming too much for you to handle.

“You’re taking me so well, (Y/N),” Neil praises you as he speeds up even more, his hips bumping hard into yours. 

He’s going to send you over the edge. Your walls begin to clench tightly around his cock. 

“Neil, I-,”

He cuts you off. “No, not yet,” He says shakily. “I’m so close. Shit!” 

Neil moans loudly, his lips capturing yours in another passionate kiss. 

“Y-yes,” Neil huffs, pushing in and out of you even quicker now. You know he’s seconds away from finishing, and so are you. “I’m ready now, love. Come with me,” Neil begs. 

You do as he says, your walls clenching harder around his hard dick. Profanities fly out of your mouths as you both reach your climax. After a few, slow pumps, Neil pulls out of you, stroking his cock a few times before reaching down and grabbing his boxers. He slips them on, and looks over at you, still sitting on the table. You’re so sore, so tired. But it’s all so worth it. 

He walks over to you, cupping your right cheek in his hand, and bringing your face close to his. 

“I love you, (Y/N),” Neil says as his lips find yours again. 

You part from him. “I love you too, Neil.” 

Neil grins, looking around the room at the mess you two made, and the mess he made of you. He looks proud. 

And he should be, You think to yourself. Only Neil could make you feel this way. 

You stand up, grabbing your panties and slipping them on. They’re still soaked. You grab your bra put it on as well. You look over at Neil, who’s buttoning up his dress shirt now. 

He’s watching your every move, as if he’s still fucking you in his head. 

“Just looking,” He says, a wide smile makes its way across his face. “I mean, how could I not?” He slides his pants back on, and buckles his belt. 

“So,” He pauses for a second, “Do you think you learned your lesson?” He questions finally, arching an eyebrow in your direction. 

You can’t help but giggle. “If the lesson was that I should ‘misbehave’ more often, then yes, lesson learned.”

Neil grins widely and walks over to you. “I guess I’m a good teacher then.”

He embraces you tightly, pulling you into his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, I guess you are,” You say, grinning back at Neil. 

#neil tenet smut #neil tenet #neil x reader smut #smut #neil x reader #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet x reader smut #neil smut #tenet neil x reader #tenet #tenet reader insert #tenet smut #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson smut #robert pattinson x reader smut #tenet imagine #tenet fanfiction #tenet one shot #neil imagine #neil tenet imagine #neil fanfiction #neil tenet fanfiction #tenet neil imagine #tenet neil smut #tenet neil x reader smut #fluff #fanfiction #imagine #one shot #oneshot

[valmalfoy]

hii! can i please get a robert pattinson imagine in which he’s dating the reader (who is 23) and the media keeps saying that he’s too old for her and he kinda lets that get to him so the reader tells him that she doesn’t care because she’s so in love with him and nothing would make her feel otherwise

Pairing: Robert Pattinson x Reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst but mostly fluffy :)

A/N: Hi sweetie! I’ve never done an age gap fic before so this was super fun to experiment with. Thank you for requesting and I hope you like it!!

Y/N was in the kitchen making dinner in Robert and her’s shared apartment when she first had noticed that Robert had been acting a little off. But hey, it was Rob and he always acted a little bit off. This time around it felt a little different however. She’d never seen the man on his phone so often. He was always the type that would rather lock his phone in a box and spend the day with whoever it was he planned on being with, phone free with zero distactions. Y/N on the other hand loved sharing things that interested her on social media. Wether it be cooking, art, music or anything else she enjoyed, it was all over her social media platforms. And that included a glimpse into Robert and her’s life.

“Everything alright, hun?” Y/N asked with a soft tone to her voice. She knew that whenever Robert was down he appreciated her soft voice and comforting touch.

“Oh- um.. yeah.” He was quick to reply, hoping Y/N would not hear the lack of confidence in his voice. But when he looked up to see a frown on her face and a hand on her hip, he knew she would always catch something like that. “Just going through some emails.” Robert shrugged it off before his eyes returned to his phone screen.

“Uh huh..” She quietly said before turning on her heels to stir the soup she had been making previously. Y/N never normally let things like this bother her but his odd silence was making it obvious that he was not reading emails. Because when he did read emails he’d tell Y/N about the job offers he got and the funny scam emails that the two of them would joke about for days after. Sighing in frustration, she set a time on the oven and walked to sit next to Robert on the couch.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” She said with a raised eyebrow. Robert tried to play it off with a confused look on his face but she looked straight past it. “Rob, seriously.”

“You’re like a detective.. you know that?” He tried to make a joke but there was something else on his mind. “It’s just- I was reading articles about our relationship and everyone is saying-“ Robert paused for a moment, looking from Y/N’s eyes and to his lap. “They think i’m too old for you. I don’t know.. ” He let out a deep breath, finally feeling the relief of giving up a feeling that he’d pressed down for days. But Y/N did not have the reaction he feared, the one where she’d agree with the writers of the article. Instead she laughed causing Robert to look back up to her with knitted eyebrows. “Why are you laughing?” He asked with a half smile on his face.

“I am so in love with you.” She finally broke the laughter with her words of affirmation. “And some stupid article about our age difference is not going to change that.” She brought a hand up to his arm and absentmindedly traced her fingers up and down. Robert nodded in agreement. Y/N always found a way to make him feel immediately better. “Now stop second guessing yourself and help me with dinner.” She gave him a peck on the lips before standing up, only to have her arm pulled back by Robert into a much longer kiss.

“I love you.” He whispered back before letting her free to make dinner, closely following behind to help in the kitchen.

#robert pattinson #robert pattinson imagine #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x you #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen x you #tenet #neil tenet #tenet neil imagine #neil tenet imagine

[wanderedaway]

5 & 11 😊

I promise, I haven't forgotten about these! 🥺 I finally had some free time to answer.

5. How many wips do you have? What fandoms/pairings are they for?

Too many. 🥲 I'll tell you about the ones I have some framework for. Lots of scenes written, just to get them out of my brain, but the plots keep changing. I like to do character driven stuff. I'll imagine myself working on parts of me I know are a problem and apply them my OC's. I just want them to eventually be happy. And the characters they interact with, too.

Bullet Train, leaning towards OFC again because I've given her codenames now, which is like pretty much naming her. We'll see. I still need to play with it a bit. For now, OFC x Tangerine. I even had most of 3 to 4 chapters written until 💩 hit the fan. I would love to finish it one day. But I have all sorts of ideas of interactions between her and Tangerine, her and Lemon (best of friends, I love what I have planned for them), and then of course, the three of them together, I feel like make quite the dynamic. I'm pretty sure this will be a fix it fic, set after the events of the movie.

TENET, OFC x Neil (though I'm heavily debating writing as a reader insert. Not sure what to go with yet and it doesn't help that half the stuff I have written is in my OC's POV and the other half in reader's POV. 😅) So maybe a wee bit about what I'm working on: Nina, if I go through with it, gets recruited into TENET and she learns how to open up a bit more after living most of her life emotionally closed off. All she's known is Mahir, her closest friend, kind of a brother to her. Throw Neil into the mix and he helps Nina learn to trust people again. Definite fix it fic, because . . . . you know why.

Star Trek (Alternate Original Series, you know with Chris Pine), OFC x Chekov. Anna Pike, daughter of Cristopher Pike, wants to show that she's capable. Prove to her father that she's worthy of his praise and attention, but while she does eventually gets her dad to see that, she learns she doesn't need it from him or anyone from the help of the crew of the USS Enterprise. There are some neat friendships there, too.

Mission Impossible . . . No pairings, except maybe hints of Ethan and Ilsa. OFC, Elizabeth "Lizzie" Lane. Low key, black widow vibes in the sense that she was taken from her biological family and raised by Solomon Lane to be part of his secret project. I plan to do like movie tie in type of fic, while also spinning it a little bit. Lizzie was supposed to be raised in Solomon Lane's image and be quite a dangerous operative, but Lizzie starts to think for herself when she meets Benjamin Dunn. He wants to help her out of her situation.

The Batman . . . F!Reader x Bruce Wayne/Batman. Pretty sure I could safely write that one as a reader fic. I have scenes for it, but not much plot for it. I have this vision of reader helping Bruce and Alfred making the suit. And then some angsty stuff because it's Bruce.

The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, OFC x Bucky. Louise, still a little unsure what her place is in the MCU, I've been playing with it for awhile and just kinda hit a stop. Pretty much follows the events of the show.

There's a splash or two of found family in all of these because of reasons. 🥲 Hands down, my fave trope.

11. Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

Oh, honey, how I wish I could just write stuff in order, but my brain is like nope.

When my brain is nice to me, I can get some things down, but that is a rarity. 🥲

send me a fanfic ask?

#ask games #thank you yanna! 💕

[chellestrash]

Care for You

Neil x reader 

warnings: none really :) just bad writing and some dyslexia typos I probably missed during proof reading so...

summary: friends taking care of each other...or more?

authors note: okay so I apologize for how long this is im not sure why it is...like t I didnt plan for this to be very long. I haven't written in a bit so if something feels a bit off...yeah I wouldn't be surprised. I hope I still managed to write Neil well enough that some of you will enjoy this. if you do, please let me know I love reading that you guys think about my lil...things I write. If you didnt like it let me know as well, so Ill know what to work on in the future. Anyways, thats it for now, thats for reading!

“You should’ve gone to the hospital wing with these.”

 You mumbled under your breath as you carefully inspected Neil’s face and neck. You knew it wasn’t his fault and you couldn’t just blame him for getting injured during a mission but at the same time, you wanted to wack him in the back of his head for not being careful enough.

„No it’s alright, it's nothing. Just a few cuts and scratches, I’m sure I can live with that.”

„Right.” You frowned a bit looking at the bigger wound going across his right eyebrow. A few inches lower and he could’ve lost an eye…or worse.

„You should've been more careful.” You spoke again and he chuckled.

„Careful is my middle name (y/n), you know it.” He lifted his arm to press his sleeve to the, still bleeding, cut above his eye but you slapped his hand away.

„Neil, that’s so dirty! You might get an infection..christ okay, come with me.”

You grabbed his wrist and lead him to the small couch in the middle of your flat.

„Wait here.” You instructed him and left the room to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom and quickly came back into the living room area. When he noticed you coming back with the kit he shook his head slowly and stood up.

„(y/n), I told you its okay, I'm alright its not a big deal.”

„Neil I swear to god.” You cut him off while picking out all the bandages, cotton pads, and other things you thought you'll need to clean him up at least a little bit.

 „Just let me clean them, okay?” You looked up to make eye contact with him again, you could see he didn't want to impose himself on you, but then why did he come to the flat in the first place? You thought.

It's not like he missed you and wanted to make sure you were still here when he got back from the field right?

Right?

„Its either me or the hospital wing so you know, choose your enemies wisely.”

„Alright!” He gestured an „I give up.” motion. before he walked over to the couch and sat down next to you.

„I trust you with this… I think? Should I?”

You rolled your eyes with a small smile and moved closer to take a look at the scratches on his face again.

„Probably not.” You joked with a concentrated expression as you poured some hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton pad.

„Well, that's very reassuring isn’t it?” He turned to face you and you huffed out a little laugh.

„I mean if you’re not sure about my provided services I don't understand why you wouldn’t just head to the hospital facility when you came back, and choose to visit me in my little single flat instead. Now shush.” You turned his head, careful not to touch any of the cuts, and proceed to slowly clean them off one by one.

„I've missed you.”

He what?

You gasped softly as you felt butterflies in your stomach. Did he mean it like, that? Surely he didn't… Your relationship with Neil was… bizarre, to be completely honest. He used to be your mentor when you got assigned to join his team shortly after you first joined Tenet. You trained under his eye, he watched you grow as a person an agent a soldier but also as a friend. As you got closer and closer together a very firm bond blossomed between you two. You were able to find comfort, peace, relief, and just simply joy in echo other companie. But almost everyone at Tenet could say they were in fact friends with Neil. He was just the type of people person who gets along with almost everyone without having to try particularly hard. It was just something that came easily to him. You on the other hand were quite the opposite, especially that despite having finished the basic and advanced training you were still quite new in this whole operation. Maybe that's why he stood out to you so much because he didn't mind where you stood in this hierarchy as some other people did. He just seemed so genuine, so interested in you,  so sweet and so-

„Hey! Earth to (y/n)?”

You blinked a few times and looked at him confused for a moment.

„.. I zoned out” You admired embarrassed.

„Oh, I've noticed. I remember you used to do that during training too.” He chuckled and you could feel the heat on your cheeks.

„Right okay, shut up. I won’t do it again!” You pushed him playfully hoping he’d just change the subject and you could move on.

„Oh please be my guest.” He smirked, „I was just admiring the beautiful faces you we're making.”

You hid your face in your hands embarrassed and plopped down onto the couch.

„I hate you.” You chuckled, looking at the ceiling.

„Nah, you know you love me.” He winked the moment you looked back at him.

Fuck.

 You sat back up on the couch and cleared your throat. As you were contemplating whether or not to try and express the way you feel for him you realized you haven't even properly starter what you promised to do.

„Oh…shit I should…” You looked at the first aid kit set out on the little coffee table 

„I was supposed to…”

„Oh…” It seemed like he also somehow forgot the main goal of this „meeting” as he gestured to the bandits and nodded 

„Right you… you go ahead please I’ll try nor to distract you too much.”

You rolled your eyes again at his little joke and moved closer to get a better view of the cuts and bruises on his skin.

You placed your palm on his temple and softly dabbed the cotton pat on the little wounds. Focusing hard on trying not to cause him any more pain, you worked on his face and neck as carefully as you possibly could. He tilted his head back to make it easier for you and closed his eyes, you watched as his breath became slower and steadier, he had to be exhausted. You placed your hand on his cheek preparing to clean the biggest cut on his face, the one going across one of his eyebrows. He unexpectedly leaned into your palm and groaned so softy, he was asleep at this point. You bit your lip and mumbled, 

“This might sting a bit.” Even tho you were certain he couldn’t hear you anymore. 

„Ah, shit!” He jumped back when you pressed the pad on the open wound. He instinctively pushed your hand out of the was and shook his head. „What happened?” He asked confused and you chuckled.

„I didn't want to wake you, you look very tired.” You explained.

„Ah thanks, guys love hearing that.” He rubbed his eyes and yawned heavily.

„Neil, the germs.”

He moved his hands away from his face quickly and held them up.

„Ah right right…the germs.”

He could be such a kid sometimes.

„Right I should… I think I should take a look at your chest now.”

He raised an eyebrow at you with a smirk.

„You think?” He run his hand through his hair.

„Oh, I can’t with you. Your shirt has holes in it so I'm assuming some of the…shards or waterer it was, got your chest too.”

„Yeah yeah, for sure.”He noodled with a small smile. 

You sighed heavily and got up from the couch.

„I'll go get you a cup of tea and you take it off oaky,?  ill look at your chest, clean what needs to be cleaned and then you can take a nice hot shower. I think you need it.”

„Oh so now you’re telling me I stink?”

He called after you as you walked to the kitchen. You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself.

...

A few minutes later you came back with a cup of tea in one hand and a plate tuna sandwich in the other.

„I thought you could be hungry.”

You looked up and almost dropped the plate at the sight of Neil sitting on the couch, casually waiting for you with his chest completely exposed.

Fuck

You swallowed hard as you looked down and tried to get yourself together as fast as possible. Bitting the inside of your cheek you sat back down on the couch and set the thing down on the coffee table.

„…here you go.”

„Ah, you didn't have to.” He said but reached for the teacup. 

„See that's why I prefer to come here instead of the hospital wing. Better food, better tea, nicer nurses.”

„I'm your friend Neil, not a nurse.  The nurses would probably treat you much better considering how most of them have a thing for you… and I mean they're also professional trained in that filed so they’d know what they’ll have to do.”

„You don't?”

„No idea. I'm just winging it. Like everything else in my life.”

Neil laughed and shook his head.

„Well, I have to say you seem to be doing just fine so far.”

Even tho it was just a response to your silly joke, the compliment feelt sincere and honest, you couldn’t help but smile. Neil smiled back at you.

„What?” You asked.

„Nothing I just like you!”

You felt the heat on your cheeks and quickly got back to cleaning the wounds on his chest.

God hive me strength. You thought,

...

After about an hour spent on carefully taking care of every cut and scratch on Neils shoulders, chest, and back you were almost done. It was difficult to focus, with him sitting… like this the entire time but what were you supposed to do?

„Done!”

You finally said not wanting to risk getting lost in your thoughts again.

„You are?”

„Yeah, I'm pretty sure I got everything. I should talk to Ives, ask him to take better care of you when I'm not around.”

„Oh, I can take care of myself perfectly well thank you very much.”

„…and the hour and a half I just spent cleaning you up is a perfect proof of that.”

You finally relaxed as you sunk into the couch and yawned heavily. You did even realize how late it got and how extremely tired you were at that point. Neil seemed to notice because he picked his shirt up and was about t put it back on.

„I should probably head back.” He started but you quickly stopped him.

„Neil! You can’t just put this back on now. Look how dirty it is.”

„Well… I can’t just walk back to my place…like this.”

You could just stay here. You thought to yourself but didn't say anything.

„You can take a shower here.” You offered. „You can take a nice hot shower and ill look for some spare clothes. I'm sure i’ll find you something.

You liked to keep some extra clothes around in case any of your friends or family came to visit or had to stay over unexpectedly.

„You’re an angel.”

He smiled softly at you and you smiled back.

„Well, I try.” You chuckled.

You could swear he looked down at your lips and quickly back up at your eyes. For a moment you thought he was about to kiss you but he cleared his throat and got up.

„Right so…ill just.” He pointed to the bathroom over his shoulder. „I'll be in there.”

You nodded with a smile „Sure.”

...

You managed to find a black t-shirt that looked to be about Neil’s size and a pair of gray sweatpants that you thought would fit him okay. You couldn’t provide him with any clean boxers but you figured he’d be okay with the ones he had on. You shouldn’t be thinking about Neil in boxers, right?

You waited for him to turn off the water and knocked on the door gently. After a moment he opened the door a towel wrapped around his hips, his hair wet and chest still wet from the shower.

„I emm.. I got you some clean clothes I thought might fit you.”

„As I said, you’re an angel.” He smiled softly at you, run his fingers through his hair, and took what you brought him. „Right, ill be out in a second.”

Neil left the bathroom after a moment, watering the clothes you provided him with. The black t-shirt was a little tight on him but not enough to make it look bad or frill uncomfortable, the basic gray sweatpants somehow fit him perfectly. You thanked yourself in your head for picking them out and smiled at him.

„I don't think I’ve ever seen you without your suit or the filed gier on.”

„Really?”

„Yeah! I think so…”

„Well, how do I look?” You laughed at his little pose.

”You like it?”

„It suits you.” You looked him up and down. 

„It looks a lot more comfortable!”

„Oh, it certainly is.”

He walked over to the couch where you were waiting for him and sat down next to you.

„Thank you, for everything. It's so late, I shouldn’t have bothered you earlier I just wanted to see you I didn't know you were gonna do all that.”

„Yeah I know I know, don't worry about it.” You said quietly as he put his head on your shoulder and yawned. You smiled softly to yourself and rested your head against his while softly brushing your fingers through his hair.

„Someone’s tired.”

He shook his head slowly „Just a tad. I don't feel like…walking.”

„Well, you can always stay here…if you want.”

He frowned at your offer. „Oh, I’ve already caused you enough trouble tonight love.”

Your heart jumped at the little nickname.

„Oh shut up. I like having you here.”

He looked up at you.

„You do?”

You threw your hands in the air. 

„No, I don't that's why I took care of you and am now offering you my bed to sleep in.”

„Wait.” He sat up 

„Your bed?”

„Yeah?” Its better, bigger, more comfortable, ill take the couch I’ve napped on it many times before I know how to fit myself into its shape perfectly. It's a good offer!”

„(Y/n), I would never sleep in your bed!”

„hey! What is that supposed to mean.” You smacked his shoulder slightly.

„Wait! I mean, I can’t sleep in it if you’re gonna be here on the couch!”

„Right… I thought you just disrespected my bed.”

„Oh, I’d never do that.” You chuckled at his serious expression.

„You're my guest so you take the bed.”

„But” He started but you cut him off quickly.

„End of discussion! Now ill go get ready for sleep and you go and make yourself comfortable.”

Not letting him disagree with you again you quickly left to the bathroom.

...

You took a quick shower and changed into your pj's. Until this point, you weren’t even sure what time it was but your phone clearly said 2.45 am. You exhaled heavily, slowly starting to feel how extremely tired you were. You didn't blame Neil, you were so happy he wanted to see you after the mission, you enjoyed his presence, and maybe, just maybe, he enjoyed spending time with you too?

You exited the bathroom and your eyes instantly landed on Neil. He was laying on the couch under some blankets with his back turned towards you.

„Neil, what the hell?” You walked over and poked his shoulder.

„I'm sleeping.” He explained without opening his eyes.

„Neil I told you to take the bed. Your too tall for this couch.”

„Shhhhhh. I'm the guest so I decide what I want.”

You rolled your eyes.

„Fine, have it your way.”

You walked straight into your bedroom grabbed a pillow and stormed back into the living room.

„Right.” You started. „Move.”

„Sorry?” He opened his eyes and looked at you confused after he turned to face you.

„I'm taking the couch and if you’re not gonna move, fine, that's your choice.”

You lifted the blanket and placed your pillow next to his. Laying down you realized how to tint the sofa was and how close to Neil you’d have to be if this thing was gonna work.

„I'm…just gonna…emm if you could, move your leg a little.”

„Oh umm, of course. Is that-”

„Yeah, yeah that's better thanks.”

You were facing each other only inches apart, this was a bad idea. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest and your cheeks getting hotter, You tried to relax your body but minutes passed, Neil wasn’t saying anything and you just felt more and more awkward. Was that too weird? Did you make it weird between you two now?

„You're gonna fall off.” He said quietly and you snapped out of the train of thoughts.

„Sorry?”

„You’re…about to slid off the edge I-„

He quickly wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer so you wouldn’t fall. His lips were almost touching your forehead now, your whole body pressed against his chest.

„Is it okay if I…hold you like this?”

He asked politely not wanting to cross any boundaries he didn’t know.

“`Neil I can go if you want, this was stupid I'm sorry I was so petty I can just go sleep in my bed and you'll have the whole couch for yourself, you’d be much more-„

„No, I…I'd like you to stay if thats alright.”

You're heart felt like it was about to explode, you shut your eyes close and forced yourself to ask him.

„Why?” This short quite question left your mouth and you froze hearing your own voice.

„Because I care for you. More than you think I do, more than you’re allowing yourself to believe.”

In that very moment, your whole body relaxed into his touch, you moved closer and hid your face in the fabric of his shirt, you gently wrapped your arms around him and he tightened his grip around you, holding you close tenderly. You exhaled loudly into his chest and you could heard him chuckle softly.

„You alright?” He asked quietly, running his hand up and down your back.

„I'm processing.” Your muffled voice made him smile softly at the sound.

„If you need time, we can just, romantically fall asleep in each other's arms and talk about it some more in the morning?” He suggested and you huffed out a little laugh.

„Deal.”

“Deal.”

“Now just hold me close and kiss me goodnight.”

__________________

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

#neil tenet #neil x reader #neil tenet x reader #tenet #neil #neil tenet fanfic #neil tenet imagine #the protagonist #the protagonist tenet #john david washington #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson character #christopher nolan