#Bulletproof

[feelingpure]

♪♪♪

FELLOW TRAVELERS 1.02 ‘Bulletproof’

[thethirdmaulertwin]

the guys :-)

Original image ↓

[foursthemagicknumber]

Uhhhhh yeah

[assassin-artist]

Mild obsessed with Mercy and I wanna know more about her! What would you say her relationships with other heroes is like? Namely the current Guardians roster.

A couple of doodles to go with the answer (:

I talk about the events of the show including the latest episode (3x07) so don't read if you aren't caught up!

-immortal - bad. immortal started off with warning her that he's watching her every move, similar with mark. he doesnt trust the twins because he never trusted omni-man, and his distrust was clearly justified after the events of the first season. she thinks he's an egotistical asshole who doesn't care about anyone else because of his refusal to become attached to his teammates, he thinks she's a time bomb waiting to go off just like her dad and brother. more than anything, though - she hates that he keeps comparing her to her father. her dad is one topic that she's sensitive about and can get temperamental if he's brought up. she tries to just stay away from immortal most of the time because she's confident she'd just start fights with him every other conversation.

-black samson - okay! samson, to me, has the vibes of a guy who's trying to hold the team together as best as he can. he's a charming guy who seems to care about them, and he does his best to get to know each of them. mercy isn't part of the guardians of the globe roster, but she works with them often enough that he probably considers her an honorary member or something. mercy is pretty closed off to others trying to 'take care of her' because she's trying really hard to be seen as independent and mature, so i think she shakes his concern and compassion off most of the time. not too rudely, though - she appreciates his attempts to be friendly. she just wishes he'd be friendly in a 'this person is my ally and teammate' way instead of in a 'this is a child i need to protect' kind of way.

-bulletproof - okayish. i don't think they interact much with each other at all in the beginning. but considering bulletproof is the only other flyer that she works with on a regular basis, i think just them having convos as they fly to and from missions will go a long way to building a rapport - for no other reason than because it's something only they can do. they'd be work friends i think. getting along on the job, but not really talking much off the job. i think they could be good friends off the job too, both of them like art and being a hero, but Mercy is the one who isn't interested in getting to know him further. sorry man, let's keep it all strictly professional..

-rex - close friends. she kind of had a crush on him the first time they met, and then she realized he was dating eve so she backed off immediately. and then she learned he cheated on eve and hated him with a passion for a while. similar to immortal, she thought of rex as egotistical and a complete jerk for a long while. but of course after his near-death experience, he turned his personality around and started being less of an ass, so her opinion of him changed quite a bit. the only person on the team that Mercy actually hangs out with outside of the job - they're similar in age and can talk to each other about their struggles of being abandoned by a parent (or 2 in rex's case). i think it's interesting that they gave Rae and Rex a romance in the show, because if Rex didn't have a romance, she absolutely would have been interested in him again. Well... we know how it ends, so i guess it's better for her that she never let her feelings develop too far...

-robot and monstergirl - bunking them together because Mercy always sees them together so they're basically a duo in her mind. Robot is crazy intelligent and Mercy respects it, but his penchant to talk from multiple copies of his robots kind of creeps her out and interests her at the same time. Kinda wishes she could do that too lol. Mercy feels sympathy for Monstergirl because of her curse, and the few times they do talk they get along just fine. It's just that they don't talk often. They aren't on the same team together and they never interact outside of the job, so there's just not enough there to build a relationship of any kind off of.

-duplikate - they have an okay work relationship, but they're both headstrong people with very different views on things. i think one of them might throw a jab at the other and that's all it would take to start a fight between them. they do NOT talk outside of work, and in fact, only talk during work if they have to communicate during a fight. in the headquarters? they're not really interacting at all. Mercy rolls her eyes when she learns that Kate and Immortal are getting married because "yeah of course the asshole is marrying an asshole".

-shrinking rae - not as close as Rex, but Mercy and Rae could definitely get along pretty well. maybe if we get to learn more about Rae in the show I could see them being friends outside of the job as well, but for now they're just close coworkers.

-darkwing ii - lastly, darkwing 2. crush material, but very slow buildup. she didn't go on that mission when Mark took Darkwing in for murder, she only heard about it second-hand from Mark himself, so that might be why she's way more forgiving of his issues than she is willing to be for Sinclair(she saw Sinclair's labs and victims personally). she still thinks he's unstable in the beginning and generally avoids him for a while, which he definitely notices, but i think all it would take is one comment from him talking about his remorse for what he did, and she might be willing to stay and talk it over with him. a short debate about morals turns into a longer conversation about regrets and what they would change if they could go back... about how the things they've seen and done has changed them forever. i think the two of them could be very good friends.. and maybe more (: such a shame he disappeared so fast in the show, but maybe id change the story a little bit now that Mercy is here to save the day, heh...

Edit: I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT SHAPESMITH.... He's my personal favorite hero on the guardians team, which of course means Ellie is going to like him too (: Another rare instance of Mercy allowing this coworker to hang out with her outside of the job. I think she'd be really interested in learning about his life on Mars, and in return she'd help him acclimate to life on Earth. Always bringing him little trinkets or candy from a dollar store, stuff like that lol. They would be the best of friends, I swear. He's not the best person to go to when she's looking to vent her frustrations about life and her issues, but he's always there to listen anyway, and she appreciates that.

[donavanmonarch]

Powerplex must have been in heaven during the Invincible War

[toxicrelief]

Crawling Back to You

Chapter eighteen

Synopsis: This isn’t your first rodeo anymore. You’re growing confident in your abilities, and you know what you’re capable of. Does anyone else? (The Gala Pt. 2)

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Chapter: 18/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: Mild Descriptions of Blood and Wounds

Note: There are two unintentional puns in this chapter. I had a large section of this written out in my notes app for a long while, 😛Ya’ll know exactly what I'm doing here

The other man led you inside, his grip on your hand much rougher than Rex’s had been. You were a few steps away from the assigned dance area when you realized you still had Rex’s coat. “Oh, crap I should probably-” You took a step back pulling the coat off from around your shoulders. It could have been an attempt to go back, to will him to do or say something, you could come back and dance with this guy after.

“Eh, just place it on the table over there, you can give it to him after our dance, okay?”

You nod begrudgingly, obviously not about to get out of this without raising suspicions. So, you follow him onto the dance floor, he takes your hand and places his other on your hip the exact way Rex had, but his touch inspires nothing in you. This whole excursion has returned to being just another job.

“So, what do you do for work?”

“I don’t.” You say it offhandedly, repeating the same charade you had told multiple people tonight when asked the same question. “I have the privilege of not having to work.” You didn’t divulge further, more information than was necessary would come across like rehearsing from a script.

He hums, “Housewife?”

You take a shallow breath, trying to remember to stay in character. “No.”

He hums again, this time it feels almost antagonistic, his hand gripping tighter on yours. “I hear that those who have that kind of privilege have a lot of time for charity work like this. Is that true?”

“I suppose.”

“Charity is so rewarding, don’t you agree? I love to help people in any way I can. If I have time, I even take visits to the hospital, it’s good to provide companion care, is it not?” You nod distractedly, glancing out at the other dancers, as you both shift with the music. “I just wish I could go in and heal every one of them. Do you ever get that feeling?”

You blinked a few times and then turned your gaze back to him, your brow furrowing.

“What?”

“Go ahead, turn on your earpiece so I can talk to them. This is exciting, isn’t it?” His eyes widen on ‘exciting’ and you feel your blood run cold.

“What was it you said your name was?”

“I didn’t, be a good girl and turn it on, yeah?”

You grit your teeth, it was unlikely he was alone. You needed him to reveal who his partners were before you did anything. Reaching your hand up you press down so you are transmitting.

“See? Wasn’t that easy?” He grabs your face and angles your head to talk directly in your ear.

“I have men stationed throughout the house ready to turn this into a blood bath. Get me Mune, alone, in one of the rooms, and we won’t open fire.”

You are met with silence, most likely because they aren’t sure if the man will be able to hear them conversing or not.

“You must know who I am, which means you must know I am not here alone.” You speak, trying to stop the malice from overtaking your tone.

“Oh, yes.”

“Then you must know this is futile. You’re bringing guns to a fight where your opponents are atomic bombs. In what world do you get what you want and waltz out of here?”

“I have no intentions of leaving.” His eyes glinted, and you felt a pressure placed against your abdomen, no doubt a gun of some sort. He obviously didn’t know everything about you.

“Shooting me won’t help your case.” You bite out, the orchestra still playing loudly.

“It’ll sure hurt though.” He presses it firmer against you, his other hand still leading you in the dance you almost forgot you were both partaking in. “And eventually you’ll die, and if not, I’ll have plenty of fun seeing if you can.”

“How did you get those weapons in here? There were screenings on every individual guest.”

“It’s an awfully big house, you’d be surprised how many hiding places there are.”

“So, you came in before the gala, planted the weapons, then came as guests?”

“What is this, detective hour?” He seems to be growing tired of your questions, his gaze flickering over the other people around you, flashing a fake smile.

“No, I just want the facts straight for when the police arrive.” You scowl at him.

“You seem very self-assured-” His words are cut off with a quiet gurgle, the aggravating smirk dying at his lips. You don’t move, watching coldly as his body goes ridged during his attempted statement. The revolver he had pressed against you he pulls back in a jerky movement placing it back into his waistband. His eyes moments before that were cocky and arrogant now shined with fear, confusion.

“Are you feeling okay?” You say it loudly, loud enough for a few couples nearby to look over. But your expression doesn’t reflect any of the concern that seeps through your voice, contempt is the last thing he sees before he shrivels to the ground, leaving your head feeling raw.

Several people look over in concern, and you blink before putting on your best act. “Oh! Sorry! One too many drinks!” You give an apologetic shrug with an awkward laugh. “Could any of you help me move him off the floor?” A few people come by and move him to a corner, laying him down and commenting things along the lines of ‘this isn’t some college frat party’.

You blurt out your apologies and thanks as they walk away, and then hold your hand up to your ear to make sure your earpiece is still running. “This one’s taken care of. Have you located all the gunmen yet?”

A few seconds passed.

I’ve got two taken down in the west wing.

We took down one near the bedrooms.

Bulletproof’s voice then quickly followed by Lance’s both sounded off. The music crescendos louder, causing you to hold a hand over your other ear so you can hear. “What about Rex? Where’s Rex?”

You snap your head back at a loud sound, someone dropping a chair or knocking over one of the cocktail tables, maybe? You could hardly hear it over the bellowing music.

“Does anyone have eyes on Rex?” You paced over to the backdoor to see if he was still standing there, stepping over the stone of the patio and looking out over the garden.

A lengthened silence beats by. With every second you start to feel more and more sick. Just as you open your mouth to repeat yourself another voice calls out over the comms.

Got three of those fuckers in the east wing.

You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice, then rested your hands on your hips, taking a few deep breaths.

Authorities are on their way, bring all of them to the room I debriefed you in. We don’t want the guests to panic. We’re running a sweep for any explosives as we speak.

“I’m going to need some people to come to the ballroom. I can’t pull this guy out myself without drawing a lot of attention.” You head back into the designated area, whispering apologies to people who had come to stare at the man’s unconscious stature.

Sending men your way.

“Thanks.” You turn off your earpiece and finally look down at the man. “Jackass. Couldn’t have waited five more minutes to pull me into this fucking scheme?”

--

Two men had come to ‘help’ you carry away the leader. When you entered the debriefing room Zandale was standing over five men, all incapacitated in one way or another. Rex was dragging in the last man from his area, and with yours added on it made seven people total.

“Do you know who these people are?” You cross your arms over your torso, feeling far too overdressed to be standing in what felt like a crime scene.

Lance simply shrugged, after barking out a command to one of his men. “Probably someone disgruntled by any number of Dr. Mune’s works. They aren’t the first and it is very unlikely they will be the last.”

Bulletproof takes a few steps towards you, his hands resting on his hips. “Did you get the name of the leader?”

“I didn’t ask.” You shrugged, looking down at him, face relaxed from his state of unconsciousness. You could kick him.

“How did you manage to neutralize him without alerting any of the other guests?” Lance asked, reaching down to pull the man’s revolver from his waistband.

“He must have got overexcited.” You murmured, an awful answer but hopefully with the amount of excitement so far no one would think about it for long. You glanced over at Rex who had settled against the ledge of one of the desks. A pang of guilt flashed over you as you remembered his coat long forgotten, a few rooms away. The feeling was overshadowed as your eyes trailed down to his side. Red tinged the seam of his suit vest, dark towards the center and fanning out lighter around it. “What’s that?” Rex froze as if being caught with his hand in a cookie jar and then followed your line of sight to his side.

“Oh, that’s…uh that’s not mine.” He scratched the side of his face, glancing up at you with a sheepish grin.

“…Really?” You raised a brow at him, quickly closing the gap, your hands coming out to open his vest. Once you were closer you could clearly see ripping in the fabric. An entry wound. “You got shot?”

“Only a little, seriously I’m fucking fine.” He pushes your hands away, leaning back further against the desk as if to evade you.

“Goddamn it, Rex. Let me see it, you’re losing blood.”

“I’ve been through a lot worse, Joy-”

“I swear to god, if you don’t let me assess you-” Rex throws an awkward glance at the people standing behind you, they were probably watching the small commotion, but you didn’t care. He didn’t get to be a martyr right now. “Do we need to go somewhere else?” You whisper the question to him, maybe he’s embarrassed in some kind of way. He took down as many men as the others had combined together. To you, there was nothing to be embarrassed about. But you didn’t care about any of that, if he was injured, which he obviously was, it was your duty to help him.

“Joy.” He breathed out with a laugh, looking at you like you were joking, the smile fading when your expression didn’t falter.

“We’ll be right back.” You turn to the group behind you before grabbing Rex’s hand and practically dragging him out of the room behind you. While searching for a nearby empty room you did not look back or speak to Rex. The initial shock of him being once again injured has worn away into irritation. Not only did he not come to you about it. But he explicitly tried to hide it from you. Not very well, but still, the intention was there.

After passing by a few rooms that you had to back out of with an apology to whatever random people were loitering in, you finally found one that was empty. High shelves lined up the walls and across columns throughout the room. Books with every color spine lining each shelf, accented by different busts and artwork. A library. It was dim, only the light coming in from outside and the light flickering under the door illuminated the area. You pushed down the urge to look around and turned to face Rex, who had been entirely silent for the short journey. He looked surprisingly calm, his expression soft, and his lips slightly parted.

“Okay, I need to see.” You dropped his hand, noting how he held on a few seconds longer. Another thing to think about later. Steady fingers come up to unbutton his vest, pushing it off over his shoulders, then moving to his dress shirt. You can feel his breath on your hands, heavy, uneven. Anxiety fills you with the prospect of him having lost more blood than you thought if he is having this labored of breathing.

Peeling away the white dress shirt you look closer at his wound, pushing your hand against his chest to angle his torso out more. The bullet had ripped through his left lumbar region, no exit wound. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself, glancing around as if supplies would magically appear. “I don’t have any of my stuff. But- that’s fine, I could do it without, just would have made it a bit easier-”

Rex’s expression tightens as if he is just realizing your intent to heal him, even though you had expressed it earlier. “Don’t.”

“Don’t, what?” Your hand that currently rested splayed on his chest shifts, pulling a hair’s width away.

“I don’t want you to heal me.” His gaze meets you for a few beats, and you feel your defenses start to rise.

“I thought we were over this, Rex.” You bite out the words, emotion lacing your tone. “I thought you were trying to be better.” The edges of your mouth curls into an expression close to disdain.

“I am.” His brows lift in hurt as if your word’s stinging him.

“Really? Cause this is the same shit I’ve had to deal with since the beginning. Always thinking about yourself, and your- your stupid pride, ego-” You step back, placing your hands on your hips.

“I’m not always thinking about myself, this isn’t about me-!” Your name leaves his mouth at the end of the exclamation. He holds his hands out in exasperation before running them through his short hair, a groan forced from his lips as the movement tweaks his injury.

“How, Rex? How isn’t this about you?”

He pauses, his eyes dropping to the floor.

“How!”

“It’s about you! Alright?” His tone is low, in a whisper, but he still spits it out with effort.

You blink a few times, confusion flickering across your features. Your arms drop from where they were perched at your hips. “What?”

“I know! I know what it takes for you to heal people, I know about the strain, I know about the pain, all of it.” He runs a hand over his face, then continues. “I’m not having you put yourself through that for something this menial.”

Menial? He was fucking shot! “Don’t worry about me-” You start, holding an accusatory finger out at him.

“I’m going to worry about you, okay!” He practically snarls it out.

You take a step back, not out of fear, but out of habit. Any time you had ever experienced confrontation like this you had given in, backed down. You weren’t going to give in as easily this time.

“I’m not some junior varsity hero, Rex. I’m a fucking Guardian, same as you.” The statement leaves your tongue in a bitter tone.

“Fuck, I know that I know. This has nothing to do with your abilities or-” His tone softens, and he takes a step forward, looking almost apologetic.

“It’s always been about my fucking abilities with you, Rex. When has it not?” You snap before he can finish his statement, stepping forward so that you are completely back up to him, entirely in his space. “If it wasn’t about my abilities, it was about me, fundamentally! I’m either a glorified nurse or an incompetent- fucking-” You stutter, trying to piece anything together through your anger, “I don’t know, a fucking idiot I suppose!”

“I don’t think you’re-”

“If you truly respected me, as a hero, as a Guardian, as your fucking friend then this wouldn’t be a question.” You hiss it out in a hushed tone as you hear people walk by the room, then continue once they are gone. “But you don’t, and I don’t know why.” You trail off in a mutter. Both of you are right up against each other, if you tried to step forward you would be standing on his toes. “What do you want from me, Rex? What is it? ‘Cause I’m growing tired of this dance.”

“I want-” He looks away sighing heavily, then continues in a lower tone. “I want you…”

There’s a pause, you wait for him to finish his thought, irritation still bubbling under the surface.

“You want me…?” You urge him forward through his thoughts.

He looks at you, and for a moment your anger fades minutely. It is just the two of you. The man who pointed out different types of countertops in a home design magazine, voice etched with excitement. The man who volunteered to go on this mission with you, who helped you zip your dress, who danced with you in the grass. The man you were falling for. But he was also the man who spent months actively working against you. Scoffing out your name every time you were brought up by another member. He was changing, you were sure of it, you’d seen the proof. As angry as you were now, you didn’t hate him. But he obviously still held resentment towards you, no matter how small. Or this wouldn’t be a discussion.

“I want you.” He looked down at you, brow furrowed tightly.

“What, Rex, you want me to what?” Frustration oozes through your words as you look up at him.

“Fucking-” He takes a step back, running his hands over his face again. “I want you to not be in fucking pain because of me.” He sucks on his teeth, looking out past you.

You sigh heavily, shaking your head. “Fine, Rex. Do what you want. I don’t care.” You hold your hands up to metaphorically wash your hands of the situation. “You should see if Lance has anything to dress that though. Or it’s going to be a long night.” You turn and leave him standing alone in the library.

--

When you return to the debriefing room there are several new faces, all sporting officer’s uniforms. Dr. Mune was standing talking to one, while others brought stretchers for the dead and wounded. It was a miracle to you how no one from the gala had seen the commotion and started spreading the word. Mune catches sight of you and holds a hand up for you to wait for her. She continues with a quick back-and-forth to the officer, then approaches you.

“They always ruin my fun; I have to bring the event to a close in order for everything to be cleaned up for the brunch tomorrow. Apparently, Mr. Sloane made quite a mess in one of the dining rooms.” One of the dining rooms. Her tone lowers, “I liked how you dealt with Robbie. Very discrete, Merlin.”

You squinted at her, how much had Cecil really relayed to her about you? “Who was he?”

“A ghost from my past, like they always are.” She looks down through her spectacles over to where the man is being loaded onto a stretcher. “This particular one actually worked at the GDA. I’m surprised Mr. Sloane didn’t recognize him. They were in the same program.”

“Program?” You shook your head.

“Mm, Robbie was a few years ahead I suppose, one of the first trials. The chip didn’t take with him.”

You looked at her closer, your brows knitted closely together. “I’m sorry, I’m not following.”

“Hm, I’m surprised you didn’t know. Have you never read Mr. Sloane’s files?”

You cringed at the memory, the general upset that had been caused when it was revealed you had. “Yes, but I only skimmed most of them, and there was quite a bit redacted. I mostly only had access to the extent of other members’ powers, or their drawbacks.”

“Well, my dear Merlin. Mr. Sloane only has his abilities because of my work. I designed the neural chip that gives him his…well, I suppose you could say his spark.” She flutters her hands in an over-the-top gesture.

“He wasn’t born with them?” You knew that there were heroes around who only had powers because of genetic modification, but you hadn’t thought it was very common.

She paused to look at you, taking off her spectacles. “To be truly born with naturally occurring powers is very rare. In all my years I could count on one hand the number I know of that were flukes.”

“I guess I would understand why so many people would want to gain them artificially.” You nod, the sound of the door opening causing you to look back. Rex had finally decided to enter, not looking at you and making a B-line to Lance. Hopefully to ask for medical attention, or at least a medipack.

“I don’t.” She states bluntly. “Just because a curse has its ups, doesn’t change that at the end of the day, it is still just a curse.”

“If that’s how you view it, why did you work to bring it about?” Your brows raise a centimeter, analyzing her reaction.

“Sometimes it takes a few decades to truly see the effect of your work.” Her tone was tired, her attention was shifted to where Rex was standing talking to Lance.

“Would you go back and undo it all?”

She sighs gently. “I have no way of knowing the outcome would be better if I did that, so no. But I wish I could go back and tell myself how it ends.”

You nodded quietly, watching as the last body was removed from the room. Smears of blood streaked across the center of the floor where some of them had been dragged slightly into the pile. With each day that passed, you understood her more and more.

--

With all the bodies gone, and the explosive sweep coming back clear it was time to nudge the guests towards leaving. Dr. Mune gave a tasteful speech about having the class to know when the host wants you to leave but doesn’t want to say it. She reminded them all that they were expected at brunch the morning after, telling them all to board at a hotel she owned down the road. How rich was this lady? She had gone around inviting select people to stay with her in her guest rooms, weaving her way through the crowd somehow faster than you could keep up with. When you had the chance, you gathered up Rex’s coat you had left at a table close to the dance floor.

You saw him after about an hour, he was wearing a new shirt. Lance must have helped him patch his side up because there was no visible wound through the white linen. Irritating was the main emotion that coursed through you at the sight of him, but it quickly gave way to worry. He had survived perfectly his entire life without you worrying about him, but you couldn’t help it. You gave a shit about Rex Splode- or Rex Sloane as you had come to find out tonight.

Somewhere internally, the you from a month ago groaned heavily.

“Shall I have Gareth show you all to your room?” Mune’s voice poked through your thought process.

“Hm?” You wrenched your gaze from the back of Rex’s head, to give her a quizzical look.

“You three will be staying here, yes?”

“Oh, I figured we would just stay at a hotel or something.”

“The only hotel for miles is mine, and it is completely booked.” She shakes her hands at you like it’s no big deal. “I have plenty of space-” She looked over at one of the groups she had just invited to stay as well. “Well, I have space.” She corrects.

“Oh, then sure?”

“Good, Gareth has already brought your things upstairs to the room.”

“Our things?”

“Cecil sent you all outfits for the brunch tomorrow. You never know if there will be a second wave.”

“No, I mean our things, as in all to the same room?”

“There’s only so much space darling, even in a house like this.” She waves down a couple that is about to escape without her talking to them and marches over, shouting greetings.

Oh boy.

Gareth seemed to materialize out of thin air next to you. “Shall I show you to your room?”

You ran a hand over your face with a sigh, already mentally preparing for the argument that was about to happen the moment you all reached the room. Maybe it was set up for three people, and you were dreading nothing.

--

Gareth rounded the three of you up, Bulletproof made several comments about being ready to knock out for the night, which went without response. All three of you were feeling the exhaustion without needing to mention it aloud.

At the top of two different sets of stairs, you all found yourself in a long hall, each set of doors looking identical. The only things serving as landmarks were the different portraits on the wall. The one next to your door portrayed a medieval knight on horseback appearing to be leaving for battle. A woman with golden hair was tying a red fabric around his arm. Mune was nothing if not consistent at least.

Gareth opened the door for the three of you, holding his hand out so you could go inside. After stepping in you looked back to see Bulletproof and Rex loitering outside the door.

“Well, see you in the morning.” Bulletproof waves awkwardly. Rex doesn’t meet your eyes.

“You are all staying in this room tonight, Mr. Randolph.” Gareth states humorlessly, still holding the door open.

Both of them seem to cock their heads to the side in unison, glancing inside as if expecting to see a row of beds. They both only furrowed their brows tighter after seeing the large bed dead center and two couches placed in various different positions in the expanse of the room.

“Oh, hell no.” Zandale steps in to look at the room closer, his gaze flittering over it once again, and landing on his luggage set next to a red upholstered couch. “Seriously?”

Gareth doesn’t respond, just continues holding his hand out until Rex begrudgingly steps in.

You take in the room fully for yourself, sighing once again before speaking. “I guess I’ll take the other couch?”

Author's note: God can these two get along for more than two seconds I’m going to blow my brains out (I did this to myself) Extra points if you know exactly what painting I was describing

divider credit: @/ saradika

taglist: @kittymeowmrow @sketchlove @jewelwayne101 @0ut0fsweets @sugaramped @spidernuggets @sweet-cuddlebug @ohmysoultakemysoul @lapisbwub @velovicy @liquideyes request to be tagged for new parts!

Chapter Nineteen

[tickitytak]

Shapesmith I want you in the way that I would want a stray cat with worms

[mensfactory]

Rezvani "Knight"

[winterjackal]

WEED!

[gebo4482]

Invincible - S3 E7 #9

[mandareeboo]

The composition of this shot is so fucking funny. Mark yelling at the ship to go faster bc he's used to flying fast. Rudy, fresh off of mind control, chiding him that it doesn't go faster, actually. Black Samson trying to peer over the chair. Monster Girl squished into the back. Eve and Bulletproof looking carsick. Shapesmith looking the most solemn he ever has. Immortal can't even fit into frame.

The fact that the one driving is the one with the body of an eighth grader.

[dasinclair]

i think rex realized something about himself in this moment

[gatorbites-imagines]

you guys should send me invincible requests *blinks cutely*

ive only finished season 1 but im already watching season 2, so feel free to send requests about the characters.

i have also only read like the first 13 issues of the comics, so most if not all my knowledge is based on the show and the wiki.

Note that my fave is def Mark at this point, but many of the characters have grown on me, especially Darkwing 1 and 2, Immortal, Rex, etc. ill even write about the flaxans at this point, cuz why the flaxan leader kindaaaa.... also a big fan of the evil versions of invincible.

Ive already had a few ideas, like a reader thats kinda based around mysterio from marvel. Or maybe the reader being green ghost, or even some viltrumite reader stuff.

and yes, of course i write smut too 🔥

[hyperfocusfeatures]

Underboob... I wish I was Radiohead, 1995

[donavanmonarch]

Invincible and Cecil have a chat 

[toxicrelief]

Crawling Back to You

Chapter seventeen

Synopsis: You, Rex, and Bulletproof are working as a private security detail for a high-end donor’s Gala. Your job is to blend in and mingle, which is hard to do when you want nothing more than to stay near Rex the whole evening.

Pairing: Rex x F!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Chapter: 17/?

Masterlist of all Chapters

TW: None, but the tension is crazy, eat up

Note: Kind of includes an OC like character, so warning for that? No one in the canon universe fit the need for the part so I just made up someone. Sorry if you hate added noncanon characters, I needed someone to be the donor in order to progress this part of the story. This chapter (plus part two of it) is also extremely self-indulgent so I hope you enjoy anyways!

“You think if all the Guardians pooled their money together, we could afford a place like that?” Bulletproof stepped out in front of you and Rex.

“I didn’t even think anything could be that big.” You stated, feeling mildly overwhelmed by the looming estate before you.

“I can think of something-” Rex snickered and then seemed to immediately regret it. “Sorry-”

“Do we just…walk up?” You continued, ignoring Rex, taking a cautious step forward.

“I thought we were arriving early, why are there so many planes already here?” Bulletproof commented, looking back at the large array that lined up with the Guardian’s jet.

“You guys are thinking way too critically about this, I came to party, and that’s what I’m going to do.” Rex, walks ahead of both of you, holding his hands intertwined behind his head.

“We’re here to work, Rex.” You reminded him in a dry tone, but even for you, the anticipation was rising.

To call the estate before you a house, would be a falsehood, to call it a mansion still felt untrue, but closer. It was practically a castle. High-reaching spires jutted out towards the heavens, accented perfectly by the pink tone of an oncoming sunset. Various chimneys contrasted against the sharp peaks with their rectangular structure. As you got closer you could somehow clearly see where the land stopped, and the backyard began. There were various stone walkways, surrounded by meticulously upkept greenery. A fountain laid dead center, although to call it simply a fountain also felt like it was falling short. It was more like a pond, or a small lake, with marble enclosing its sides. A stone pillar in the center served as a base for a small waterfall. Upon approach you could feel the cool spray against your skin.

The backdoor was formed of overexaggerated double wooden doors, pushed further into the dark outer stone wall. There was a covered walkway against the house, vines trailed down from the columns and covered the archways. You figured it was a stylistic choice rather than the owner letting them grow due to lack of care. The whole area was far too well-upkept for it to have been missed. You imagined what they might look like in season and wondered if they would bloom or not. Either way, the whole place was breathtaking.

The large arched windows revealed bright but still soft, yellow lighting from inside. From just a few yards out you could see the busy bustle from inside, all the people within your view wearing identical black suits. Caterers.

“This place is insane.” You whispered, not meant for either of your companions. Stopping, you looked back to take the garden in, as well as the land that spread out for miles. Further off behind the makeshift aircraft hangar, you could make out trees. You did a small spin looking around as far as you could before your vision was stopped by the walls of the building. This entire area was closed off by a forest.

You wanted to laugh, giggle, do something. You couldn’t really believe where you were, well, you didn’t really know where you were to begin with. But to you, it felt like you had walked into a storybook. Any twisting feeling you had felt on the journey here was completely gone and replaced by the buzz of excitement.

After doing another semi-spin to look at it all again you realized Rex was standing quietly, his hands shoved into his pant pockets, staring at you. Clearing your throat you dropped your shit-eating grin and walked forward a few paces, leaving him behind. You didn’t need his negativity ruining this for you. Even as you walked up to the back entrance there was an extra pep in your step.

“Do we knock-?” Zandale’s question was cut off by heavy creaking as the large double doors began to shift on their hinges. It took a few seconds longer than necessary, which made you shoot a small chuckle in Rex’s direction, snickering at the over-the-top feeling of it all.

A single man stood in the center of the doorway. He was wearing a tuxedo, with a dark bowtie, his features seemingly stuck in a look of displeasure.

A moment.

“So-” Rex starts.

“Dr. Mune wishes to meet with you all before guests arrive, please, follow me.” He did not wait, quickly taking off at a pace that felt a lot like running to you. He did not seem to share in your breathless sentiment, easily spouting out facts about different art pieces you passed as if he were giving a tour. Every room you walked through, or rather sprinted through, seemed to have more and more luxurious décor. Complex lighting fixtures both on the wall and in the form of chandeliers, pearlescent columns, and waxed floors. You tried to take as many mental notes as possible to add to your persistent country home daydream. Although, granite columns might be going a little overboard.

“God, this place is a little…” Rex whispered from next to you. He looked far less pleased than you felt. In fact, he even looked a little sour, a firm scowl displayed across his features.

Before you could quietly question him on it the man who had been leading you all slid gracefully to a stop. You did this less gracefully, not expecting it and jerking back a few feet. As fancy as your dress was, you still had the mannerisms of someone more…normal? Is that the way to put it?

It was hard to think that all of this could be viewed as normal for anyone.

“Dr. Mune, your Guardians are here.”

Cheesy. But you were grinning like an idiot anyway. This was already better than any stakeout you had ever experienced the misfortune of being bored out of your mind on.

A woman, tall but well filled out stood next to two workers. She was wearing half-moon spectacles, a pearl-encrusted chain connecting them down to her neck. There was a general no-nonsense air to her. A tweed skirt reached down to her knees, which was met by a pair of black tights. She was wearing a matching jacket with a white flowy blouse underneath. One of the workers uttered a few hushed tones to her, which she responded to with the same frequency. Her maroon-lined lips formed around every syllable. With a nod, the two workers left and she turned her attention to your group.

“Ah, the guests of honor.” She smiles; the action accentuating wrinkles across her face. She couldn’t be much younger than Cecil. However, unlike Cecil, she still had luxurious hair, black with only a few white streaks accenting through it.

The three of you were not the most competent when it came to introductions, but luckily the man who had led you spoke first. “I have given them the tour-” It took you maybe three minutes to reach where you were now, how would that be a proper tour? “And I told Lance to prepare the earpieces.”

“Oh, we’ve already got some.” You start, taking an apprehensive step forward.

“We’ve got jammers placed out all over.” The woman speaks. “You won’t be able to reach each other. My security team has some, that way you can keep them up to date as the night moves forward, yes?”

“If you have a security detail already, why do you need us?” Rex scoffs out. It’s a valid question, but the brash execution has you cringing.

She doesn’t falter in her smile or demeanor. “Because, Mr. Sloane, threats of this magnitude don’t always end well under the careful watch of the everyday man, do they?”

Mr. Sloane? You turn slowly to look at him. His jaw is clenched, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“Why are you getting threats?” Bulletproof asked, folding his arms.

“Were you not all briefed in some capacity?" She straightens out her jacket, moving forward towards the small semicircle of people in front of her. “I am not very well-liked by a multitude of crowds. Although-” She turns her attention to the man who had brought you. “Who has the largest price on my head right now?”

“That would be Mister Liu, ma’am.”

“He still upset about that?” She laughed but did not divulge what she was laughing about. “My point is, it could be anyone or anything. Liu doesn’t think it is worth wasting his own time, but he sends assassins now and again.” She flutters her hand like she’s discussing the afternoon weather. “You don’t have to watch me specifically, as I said I have my own detail. However, our most recent threat was remarked as…What was it again, Gareth?”

“I believe they claimed that they would ‘scar the earth so heavily that no one could build in the same area for two thousand years’, ma’am.”

“Ah, yes.”

You paused, deciding if it would be appropriate for you to speak. A glancing over at Rex provides you with no help or comfort in the answer as he was still staring forward with an unpleasant expression. “Excuse me, Dr. Mune-”

“Mune is fine.”

“Mune,” You repeat, “If you are receiving threats like this, should you really be throwing an event like this? Isn’t it kind of…tempting fate?”

She blinks a few times at you, and you feel like the floor is being pulled out from under you.

“My dear, if I heeded every threat nothing would ever get done. This one isn’t half as colorful as the ones I usually receive, but,” She sighs, folding her hands, “I received word of movement that concerns me, so I would rather be cautious.”

“How would you like us to start?”

She explains her estate in detail, promising an escort will show your way to each place once she is done. Throughout she seems exceedingly sure that nothing will happen, which puts you less at ease every time she says it. At the end of her presentation, she tells the three of you to ‘enjoy yourselves’. Rex scoffs but doesn’t say anything else.

“Gareth will take you to get your earpieces and meet the team. I’d like you to stay behind if you please.” You looked up and she was gesturing towards you. Ah, crap.

“We should all stick together-” Rex starts, taking an almost indistinguishable sidestep towards you.

“I don’t bite, Mr. Sloane. And if you wish to indeed, blend, you shouldn’t all stick together, yes?” Her smile remains unwavering, as she ushers him away.

You give him a shrug taking a few steps towards her, when a hand grabs your wrist. Glancing back, you give him an odd look, mouthing a small ‘what?’.

He doesn’t say anything but imperceptibly shakes his head. Now what the hell are you supposed to do with that? This is a job, a duty, you can’t just tell your employer ‘No, I won’t stay behind to discuss anything with you’.

“I’ll catch up.” You reassure, but his reaction was doing nothing to calm any of your nerves.

His eyes almost seem to darken a shade but he just nods, slipping your wrist from his grip and following close behind Zandale and Gareth who were already a good yard or two away.

“Cecil has talked about you.” Dr. Mune starts, turning to a worker who walked up with a book of some sort. She didn’t seem interested in addressing Rex’s hesitation.

“Yeah? Hopefully okay things.”

“Okay is putting it mildly.” She chuckles, before shaking her head at the worker and then turns her full attention to you. “You’re the poster child for everything Cecil wants in a hero. Obedience, self-sufficiency, discretion.” She takes off her glasses, letting them hang down around her neck. “He couldn’t have made a better soldier if he crafted one himself.”

You hummed, not sure exactly what to say to this. Part of you was pleased that Cecil spoke well of you or even spoke of you at all. The other part was concerned as to where this was headed.

“I like you.” She affirms, glancing up and down your figure. “I think we’ll get along just fine.” She holds out her arm for you to take, which you realize after staring at her for a few moments. “You shall be my Merlin.”

What on earth is this woman on about? “Merlin? As in King Arthur?” You ask it with a polite scoff in the way you appease someone who just spoke utter nonsense to you.

“That’s right.” She pats your arm while leading you in the direction the others went. “I took an interest in the Arthurian legend a few decades ago. Security humors me and it pleases me to see everyone fit into their roles.”

“And you think I would be the Merlin in your story?”

“Yes.” She says it like it was a ridiculous question. Maybe the papers Donald gave you all should have mentioned she was about two days away from madness. “Mr. Randolph strikes me as a Bedivere, do you agree?”

“I can’t say I know exactly who that is, Mune.”

She sighs dramatically. “No one ever realizes my true genius.”

“You worked a lot in the body enhancement side of the GDA, didn’t you?” The question slips past your lips the moment there is a lull in conversation.

“I suppose, I don’t work in it anymore, but I hear they still use my blueprints. Or at least I get the royalty check every month in the mail.” She laughs off-handedly. It feels like you have both been walking for ages, passing door after door, the sound of your individual shoes clicking against the floors.

“How long did you work there?”

“Longer than you’ve been alive. I worked there when I was still young, full of life, you know the sob story.” She pauses in her step. “The GDA hasn’t always been the place it is now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t get genetically modified superheroes without casualties.” Dr. Mune continues walking, pulling you with her. “How is Mr. Sloane doing?”

The question takes you off guard. “Oh, Rex?” She nods and you continue, “Pretty good I’d say? He’s excellent at what he does.”

“Oh, I know.” The first true sense of distaste flows off of her. “He always was.” Between this and Rex grabbing your arm earlier, you were questioning what their history was. “He’s a Gawain.” She states suddenly before the two of you pull up to the final door. She let go of your arm and gestured for you to go inside. “My Lancelot will tell you everything you need to know. I do hope you are able to enjoy your evening.” She says your last name, a small twinkle in her eye that made you wonder for a moment if she planted a bomb herself just for her own entertainment.

“Lancelot?” You ask, quirking your brow up slightly.

“It’s cute, right?” She smiles, more to herself than to you, before turning to leave you there.

“But Lancelot betrays Arthur.” You cock your head, and she slows to a stop, a smile still spread across her wrinkled features.

“Good thing I’m not Arthur.”

“Then who are you?”

“Excalibur.”

--

You couldn’t quite decide how you felt about her. She was odd, but she was sure of herself. After so many years and so many accomplishments maybe you would be too. A part of you liked her, the idea of her interacting with Cecil was one that intrigued you deeply. But you were put off on behalf of Rex. He obviously didn’t trust her, and she even conceded to them having some kind of history. Alongside keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, you were also determined to figure out who Mune thought Arthur was.

People began to arrive while Lance, affectionately called Lancelot by Dr. Mune, familiarizes you all with the equipment. He was very no-nonsense, speaking in as brief of statements as he could. Once he felt confident that the three of you were set, he had Gareth come back and take you all to the ballroom, while repeating one last time to notify him if any of you saw anything.

The ballroom was just as meticulously decorated as every other room you had seen so far. Gold plated chandeliers hung from a ceiling painted with a beautiful mural. A night sky with ancient figures all wearing roman attire. The floor itself was wooden, waxed over with something to protect it from spills. A stage sat towards the front, where artists and their instruments were gathered. Tables of varying sizes speckled the area, and there was a bar at each side of the room for refreshments.

The expansive area filled quickly, people from all walks of life, all well dressed in the most obnoxious way. Even still, you could feel your excitement returning. The three of you had decided to stay together for the first few minutes, then slowly peel off into the other parts of the ballroom. Zandale had already made his way over to the bar, speaking with an older man in a suit that looked like it cost more than a year’s rent.

“So,” You looked over at Rex, who had been suspiciously quiet since you rejoined the group. “What’s the deal with you and Mune?”

“There’s no deal.” He says shortly, then sucks his teeth and continues. “She worked at the GDA when I was a kid, I’ve met her a few times.”

“That was a pretty strong reaction for just a few times.” You say it softly, your eyes scanning the room behind him. You doubted that anything would happen this early in the evening, but you still wanted to keep an eye out.

“Well, it wasn’t exactly the happiest point in my life.” Rex grits out, his gaze following the other side of the room behind you.

“Is she not trustworthy?” You wait a moment, but when he doesn’t answer you poke his arm. “Rex, this is serious. We’ve got to get through this job, I need to know if I should be watching her as well as everyone else.”

He rubs his arm absentmindedly where you had poked him. “She’s trustworthy.” He concedes begrudgingly. “She’s practically Cecil in a different fucking font.”

“I don’t mind Cecil.” You mutter, returning to look at a couple that walked through the doors.

“I don’t mind Cecil either, but I don’t doubt that he’d sacrifice anyone of us if he thought it was for the greater good.”

“It’s the job.” You respond simply, but you know he’s probably right. “Hey, by the way, did you know apparently that you are ‘Sir Gawain?’ to Mune?” You raise a brow with a soft smirk.

“She’s still doing that shit?” He sighed. “At least I’m not Mordred anymore. When I was younger, she sat me down to tell me exactly why that was who I was. Not great to hear one of the more prominent adult figures in your life compare you to the bad guy of a kid’s fairytale.”

“I thought Morgana was the bad guy?”

“She is too, but Mordred kills Arthur so- ah shit I don’t even know.” He raps his fingers against the cocktail table the two of you are standing at.

“We’re you a troublesome kid of something? Kill any kings?” You laugh, but your smile falters slightly when Rex does not.

“Uh-”

Are you two going to split up or stand there talking away all evening?

Bulletproof’s voice sounded out over the comms, interrupting Rex before he could finish. He puts a hand to his temple and stays standing next to you for a moment, his fingers still tapping on the table.

“See you soon?” You finally say, giving him a small smile.

He looks at you and blinks a few times before curtly nodding and heading in towards a group stationed behind you.

“Shit.” You whisper to yourself, looking down at your hands as they spread across the dark tablecloth. A glance back to the bar shows Zandale still chatting with the elderly man, but you catch how his gaze flits across the room every few seconds.

“Hello.” An unfamiliar voice fills the space around your table from where Rex had just been standing. A man, most likely in his early to mid-thirties stood before you. He was wearing a light grey suit, with a black bowtie.

“Hi.” You say, giving him a polite smile, glancing behind him to keep an eye on the door.

“Are you waiting for someone?”

“No, just people watching.”

“You came to a house of this magnitude and you people watch? You could do that anywhere.” He grins.

“Well, maybe I like to look at all the ridiculous outfits.” Low risk, high reward, He either agrees with you and it’s fine, or he disagrees and leaves you alone.

“You definitely won’t find a shortage of that here. For a gala that is supposed to have dancing, there is a surprising lack of ballgowns.”

“Did you leave yours at home?” You glanced back to where Rex had been, his back was to you as he talked to a tall slender woman with a fur coat. You wanted to know more about his experience with Mune, you were practically counting down the minutes until it would be appropriate to walk over to him again. The woman laughed and you felt yourself stand up a little straighter, what were they talking about? It couldn’t be that funny. You practically felt your mood sour at the sight, turning back to the guy who had welcomed himself to your table.

“Touche.” He says, picking up his wine glass you hadn’t realized he had set down. “You’ll have to save me a dance.”

“Oh, I’m not sure I will be dancing.” You state quickly,

“Well, if you change your mind, save me one.” He lifted his glass to you and walked past you to another table where two people were standing.

You could feel your excitement fading once again. Tonight was going to be a long night if every interaction was like that. And it was going to be even longer if you kept turning to watch Rex seemingly hitting it off with everyone he talked to.

--

The evening was running without a hitch. You managed to make perfectly fine small talk with a variety of people while only conceding to a few drinks. Not that they had time to work their magic with your elevated blood processing. About forty-five minutes in, Mune entered the room, silence slowly falling over the different groups that is only broken by a few whispers.

“I hope you all donate as much as you drink up my fine wines.” The crowd laughs, but Mune seems more put out by them than actually making a joke. “The orchestra will be starting up in the next few minutes to start up the dancing, so I expect every one of you to visit the floor at least once. And if you don’t want to now, have a drink until you do.”

You would need a lot more than one drink to convince you to step out there, even if you didn’t have practically an immunity to alcohol as it was.

You nodded your goodbyes to a couple you had been talking with and spotted Bulletproof loitering around an empty cocktail table.

“Have you seen anything?” You ask in a low town as you take your place next to him.

“I mean, some idiot is definitely trying to steal a few pieces of the silverware but that’s about all the malicious intent I have seen so far.”

“It’s surprising how many of these people hate each other, and how easily they announce it to complete strangers.” You sigh, putting your hands on your hips and stretching out your back.

“You owe me so big for this shit.” Bulletproof grumbles, straightening out his tie.

“What, you’re not even having a bit of fun? You should go dance or something.” You snicker, turning so that your elbows are resting on the cocktail table behind you.

“I hate dances, I hate high society, and I’m starting to hate you.”

“Me?”

“You should have just asked Rex to join, why am I even here?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply but I do actually like your company on missions Zandale.” You pause before shifting your hand in the air and adding with a smile: “Somewhat.”

“Am I wrong though? You asked me to come to bait Rex into coming didn’t you.”

“No, I asked you to come because I didn’t want to come alone, and you’re one of the only people on the team who can stand me.” You sigh heavily, giving a polite smile to someone as they walk by.

“Well, Rex-”

“Not everything is about Rex!” You say a little louder than you meant to, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “I couldn’t ask him, okay? He shouldn’t even be on the field; he was just shot in the head for Pete’s sake.”

“It’s the job.” You cringe at your words being recited back to you.

“I know.” You mutter gently. “But… I want better for him. I want better for Rae. Hell, even Kate should have had better.”

“You can’t protect him.” Zandale shrugs, but his voice is understanding. “Or any of them. We all knew the risks. Do you?”

You look up and out into the crowd, searching silently. Verdant eyes meet you during your search. He’s standing in a circle of people but angled just right so that you can see him between the shoulders of two people in front of him. You angle your head to the side to see him better between the two people. He mirrors the gesture, his lips downturned slightly before they grow into a full boyish grin. You smile back at him and then his attention is taken away from you as someone speaks to him.

“It was easier when he was mean to me.” You murmur bitterly, still watching Rex who appeared to be listening intently to what someone was saying.

“If you want, I could let him know, maybe even help him pull together another scheme to try and get you kicked out.”

“Ooh, enticing offer.”

Bulletproof looked back to where you were looking and sighed when he saw Rex. “You should go talk to him, ask him to dance, something. This thing sucks but it sucks more with your obvious ogling passing over me. I’m gonna barf.”

“I’m not ogling! I was watching someone else over there…” You feign a gasp. “Oh my god! He’s got a gun!” You look back at Zandale, “I’m working, see?”

“You both are insufferable to be around.”

“In a good way?”

“What-? No! How can you be insufferable in a good way?”

Bulletproof heads back to the bar, and you decide to look around outside. Huge double glass doors lead directly from the ballroom into the garden you had seen earlier. Attendees stand outside chatting and smoking cigarettes at several different parts of the patio area. Cocktail tables are set up sparsely all the way out and up to the fountain.

The smell of smoke and crisp night air fills your lungs, it is much cooler outside. A couple passes you, leaving an open table for you to stand at that easily surveys the area.

“I think I’ve missed my calling.” You don’t have to turn to know who it is, an uncontrollable smile crossing your face.

“Yeah?”

“I think I should have been a fucking con artist; these people love me.” Rex moves in next to you, breathing the night air in deeply. “I could do fundraisers, get ridiculous amounts of cash, and then just pocket it.”

“Let me know how that goes.” You snort, swiveling your head to face him.

“Seen anything?” It’s unnecessary, an excuse to keep talking. Even if you don’t fully believe Rae in her insistence that he shares your feelings you can recognize this from a mile away. You had said the same thing to Bulletproof earlier, but that had been to keep things light. Rex wasn’t one for small talk like that.

“Nope, Zandale saw someone stealing some silverware, but it’s been pretty calm, you?”

“Nothing as exciting as that.” He scoffs, his gaze trailing over the garden. You turn so that your back is to the table, leaning on your elbows again while watching the glittering lights from inside. Faint orchestral music can be heard from all over the garden. Couples dance, some with less grace than others, but all of them seem to be putting the most effort possible into it.

A small shiver travels up your spine at the chill of the night air. “God, a little cold out here, right?” More small talk.

Without hesitation Rex is pulling off his coat jacket. He brushed it out with his hand as if it made any difference and held it out to you.

“Oh, I’m not sure I really need-” He pulls his hand back almost imperceptibly and you let out a breath. “Okay.”

He places the coat over your shoulders after you step away from the table. It’s not horribly warm but at least it stops the breeze, Worse than the breeze is the fact that it smells like him. You hadn’t even realized you knew his smell until now, which was something you’d unpack later.

“Do you dance, Rex?” The question leaves your lips and almost instantaneously you can feel Rex tense beside you.

“No.” He responds curtly.

You just nod, not sure if you expected him to say something else. Your hands distractedly play with the edges of the tablecloth,

“Would you like to dance?”

“What? No.” You laugh awkwardly, still intently watching the pairs spin from behind the glass doors.

“I’m not asking if you want to dance, I’m asking if you would dance.” You look over at him and he had shifted, his hand outstretched to you. An actual invitation. “With me.”

“You don’t dance.” You respond softly, your gaze flickering down to his hand.

“I don’t.” He repeats, that boyish grin returning to his face. “Could I have this dance?”

You glance back to the crowd of dancers, then snap your gaze back to him. His emerald gaze is soft and nonjudgemental. You weren’t sure you even knew how to dance. You’d get out there and probably look like a fool in front of everyone. Rex would get irritated because you stepped on his foot one too many times, it was sure to be a disaster-

“You may.” The affirmation seemed to tie an invisible line between the two of you, as your hand met his. He doesn’t lead you into the ballroom though, rather he leads you down the steps into the grass. Most of the people who had left for smoke breaks had slowly trickled back inside. Besides a few stragglers, the two of you were alone.

“Afraid of the crowd?” You joke lightly, as he takes your hand and intertwined your fingers, his other hand coming to rest gently on your hip. Like he was holding it almost painstakingly away from direct contact.

“Maybe I don’t want to share.” He said it offhand as if it didn’t make your brain short-circuit. Weeks of casual conversation and visits to his hospital room, and this was the boldest thing he had said to you. It made you feel warm, fuzzy.

“Oh.” Was all you could manage. Rex took the lead, instructing you to follow his moves. “Where did you learn to dance?”

“Oh, well, I didn’t.” He says honestly. “I just watched the people inside for a long time. It’s fairly simple.”

“You were analyzing the people dancing?” You tried not to outwardly laugh, but your expression was giving you away. “Why?”

A beat of silence passes between you, and you listen to the cues of the loud orchestra rendered quieter by distance.

“I wanted to know what I was doing when we danced.” He admitted quietly, his hand on your hip twitching faintly as he finally let it rest fully against you. The feeling of his hand on you has your head spinning so much that you almost don’t register what he just admitted.

“You were planning on dancing with me?”

“Did I have much choice?”

“Yes, obviously!”

He chuckles lightly. “I’d be a fucking idiot not to take the opportunity.”

“Have you been drinking?” His hand tightens slightly against yours as you take your hand off his shoulder to pull his jacket back over your own once you start to feel it slide.

“Not much. Definitely not as much as Bulletproof, dude doesn’t seem to remember this isn’t a paid vacation.”

You scoff. “I feel bad for asking him to come, I just didn’t want to come alone.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” The air between the two of you feels like it’s buzzing at the question, and your eyes lock with his.

“Did you want me to?”

“Yes.” His admission is quiet, whispered like it’s a secret. It makes your mouth feel dry, and your body feels even more responsive to his touch than you had thought was possible.

“I’d hoped you would come.”

“Then I guess we both got what we wanted.” A tense silence falls over the two of you as you glide across the grass, a small laugh leaving you as your heel gets caught on the uneven ground and you trip. You can hear the music winding down for the end of the dance, and both of your movements slow.

“You look…” He hesitates, biting the inside of his lip and looking away from your gaze. “You look beautiful tonight. By the way.”

“Don’t tease, I’m not an idiot.” You roll your eyes, but his words make you feel mushy, your guard dropping more by the second.

“Tease?” He cocks his head slightly, but his gaze doesn’t meet yours, it is settled further down your face. The realization sends an electric shock up your spine, into your fingertips.

He slowly looks up to your stare, his eyes half-lidded, and his pupils blown. Oh.

You open your mouth to retort, or really say anything, convinced you were imagining this. He looked down at the action, leaning in a few millimeters, but not enough to close the distance in any meaningful way. He seemed to be watching your reaction, waiting to see you react poorly, push him away, call him out. But you didn’t do any of that. You just waited, your eye darting over his face to watch every micro expression. His throat bobbed but he didn’t lean forward anymore, his brow furrowing.

“So, can I get that dance?” A voice cracks through the tension that had been building to a head, causing Rex to pull back entirely, his attention turning to the person speaking. His hand leaves your hip, but he doesn’t immediately drop your hand.

Mind racing you look up at who was maybe one of the people you would want to see least in the world right now. The man with the grey suit from earlier. He’s leaning against the archway, his arms folded over his chest. “You said I could have one if you decided to dance, and from the looks of it you just did.”

“Uh…” You run your free hand through your hair, willing your thoughts to quiet down so you can think. “Yeah, okay, just give me a moment.”

“The next song’s gonna start.” The man states, an insufferable grin spreading across his face.

You sigh and look at Rex, he looks back, his expression unreadable. Maybe you had misread the whole situation. Imagined that he might kiss you. You slid your fingers from his grasp and headed up the stairs back onto the patio area. “Thank you.” You called back to Rex, who was still standing where you left him.

Author's Note: Fun fact, the idea of Mune comes from a concept I have for a Cecil x reader one-shot. We will see if I ever write it :P

divider credit: @/ saradika

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Chapter eighteen