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babsharrison · 9 months ago

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Between Worlds - Neo x Reader

Pairing | Neo Anderson x Fem! Reader

Summary | Neo returns to your life after disappearing, revealing that the world you live in is an illusion of the Matrix. Now, you must choose between the safety of the life you know and the unknown truth alongside Neo.

Word Count | 1.5k

CW | None. just some fluff

A/N | Hey luvs, this is my first fanfic here! I really hope you like it, and sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, I did my best. 😭

The soft morning light filtered through the café windows, casting dancing shadows on the tiled floor. Neo sat at a table in the corner, a forgotten cup of coffee in front of him. His eyes never left you, as you laughed and chatted animatedly with a group of friends at the next table. To them, you were a young woman full of life, hope, and possibilities. To him, you were a painful reminder of what he had lost and could never have.

As he watched you, memories flooded in, bringing back the conversations you’d had about dreams, the future, and freedom. Words that now seemed distant, almost unreal, as if they belonged to a time and life he could no longer reach. You were trapped in that illusory world, believing everything around you was real, while he lived in another dimension, fighting against the invisible shadows of the Matrix.

Your friends stood up, leaving you alone. Your gaze wandered around the café, and he noticed a sudden melancholy in your eyes, a trace of emptiness that tightened his chest. The urge to run to you, to hold you, to tell you that everything would be okay, grew inside him. But the words weighed heavily. His heart raced erratically as he shifted in his chair, nervous. He had never known how to handle the feelings you stirred within him.

Neo knew the world you belonged to was a prison, an illusion carefully designed to keep you asleep to the truth. He couldn’t let you stay there, ignorant of your own condition. But there was fear—fear that, in trying to save you, he would break the trust between you. What if you hated him for destroying what you believed to be real? The doubt gnawed at him.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he stood up, the temporary decision to leave taking hold. He felt weak as he crossed the café door, leaving you behind once more. There was a shadow of guilt within him, knowing that his continued distance only made you more vulnerable. He hid in corners, watching you on the streets, following you from a distance as you carried on with your routine, completely unaware of the devastating truth.

Days passed.

He became a shadow in your life. He watched you walk to work, carrying a simple briefcase, your face focused on some daily task. He saw how your lips curved into a smile when someone told a joke. How your hands moved, almost dancing, as you spoke animatedly on the phone. But he also noticed the sadness in the moments when you were alone, the pensive expression, perhaps wondering why some parts of your life felt empty, as if something was missing—an absent presence.

Sometimes, he followed you to the building where you worked. From across the street, hidden in the shadows, he watched you get lost in the hurried crowds. And even though you didn’t know it, he felt the growing anguish of always being so close, yet so far.

He knew he couldn’t continue like this for much longer. The guilt was slowly consuming him. If only he could explain... If only he could make you understand what was real.

Until one day, he made a decision.

He couldn’t live on the sidelines of your life anymore, watching from afar. The risk of losing you forever was great, but the fear of never trying was even greater.

You were having a normal day, walking back home, shopping bags swinging at your side. Your steps echoed softly along the sidewalk as the day waned, and the sky turned shades of orange. Neo followed closely, closer than ever. With each step, the weight of the choice he was about to make became more evident.

You approached the gate to your building, distracted, fumbling with your keys, when suddenly you felt a presence behind you. A chill ran down your spine, and you turned quickly, your heart leaping in your chest. There he was. Neo.

Your gaze met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. He stood still, the dark coat gently flowing with the wind. The face you hadn’t seen in so long, the figure that had disappeared without explanation, was now there, standing in front of you.

“Neo?” you murmured, surprise and shock mingling in your voice. “You... you’re here?”

He took a step forward, his expression serious, but there was something else in his eyes. Something you hadn’t recognized before. “I couldn’t keep watching you from afar,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper. “I... I couldn’t leave you alone in this world.”

Your heart raced, a confusion of emotions washing over you. “Alone? What are you talking about?”

He hesitated for a second, the words he needed to say weighing heavily. But he knew the moment of truth had arrived. “I need to show you something. Something that will change everything.”

“Change everything? Neo, I thought you... I thought you were dead.” Your voice came out fragile, your eyes wide with disbelief, a mixture of pain and relief surfacing in the words you spoke.

Neo felt the impact of those words. Part of him wanted to apologize for letting you believe that, for disappearing without explanation, but he knew that any words would be insufficient. He had failed to protect you from the truth for too long. And now, here you were, standing before him, not knowing that you lived in a prison, not knowing that the world around you was a lie.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he admitted, his gaze fixed on your face, trying to catch every nuance of emotion passing through your eyes. “But I couldn’t... I didn’t know how. This world... this life you know isn’t real.”

You took a step back, confused, trying to process his words. “Not real? What are you saying? This is my life, Neo. My job, my friends... my life.”

He stepped forward, trying to close the distance between you without pushing. “All of this was designed to keep you trapped. Like an illusion, a prison for the mind.” He was pleading with his eyes, his voice low and serious. “I was trapped too, until I found the truth. Now, I’m fighting against it... and I need you.”

Your mind was spinning. Everything he said sounded like madness, but there was something in his eyes—something that made you stop, hesitate. The intensity in Neo’s gaze, so familiar yet so distant, hit you hard. You had always trusted him, always knew he was different. But now, he was speaking of things that were beyond what you could understand.

“I... I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered, your hands trembling as you held the shopping bags, trying to find some anchor in the reality around you.

Neo knew this would be hard. He had gone through the same confusion, the same denial. The revelation of the Matrix was devastating to anyone, but he needed you to trust him. He needed you to see.

“I know it sounds crazy. I didn’t believe it at first either. But let me show you.” He extended his hand, hesitant, as if the simple gesture could change everything between you. “If you trust me, I can take you out of this.”

Your heart raced. Part of you wanted to back away, to flee from all this madness. But another part, the part that still believed in Neo, that still felt something for him, was curious. What if he was right? What if everything he said was true?

You looked at Neo’s outstretched hand, feeling the crushing weight of the choice ahead. On one side, the life you knew—comfortable, familiar, safe—and on the other, the truth he offered you, mysterious and terrifying. Fear mixed with the desire for answers, but there was something deeper, something that went beyond words.

Neo was everything to you. The days without him had been long and lonely, a silent pain you could never ignore. Now, he was here, standing before you, more real and more beautiful than you remembered, like an impossible dream that had materialized.

The air around you seemed heavy, almost palpable, as your fingers hesitated for a moment. Every movement carried the gravity of that choice, an invisible line that separated the past from the future. Slowly, your trembling fingers began to move until they found his hand, sealing what, in a way, had always been inevitable.

Neo watched as you made the choice. His heart, which had seemed frozen, started beating again with force when your fingers finally touched his. There was a moment of silence between you, as if the world around you had disappeared, leaving only the connection between your hands.

“I trust you,” you finally said, your voice low, almost a whisper. “Show me what I need to see.”

Neo gently squeezed your hand, the expression on his face softening for a brief moment. He knew that what lay ahead wouldn’t be easy for you, but at least now, he wouldn’t be alone. The journey you were about to face together was only the beginning.

#keanuverse #neo x reader #neo anderson x reader #neo anderson #the matrix #keanu reeves x reader #keanuverse fic #fanfic #romance #tecnology #my fic #keanu reeves #keanu my beloved #fiction #keanu characters #neo anderson imagine #keanu reeves imagine #fanfic writing

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fernpetals · 15 days ago

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After Life: The Present

Masterlist

Yandere Neo Anderson Headcanons

Part I Part III

Based on this idea

Warning: Stalking, unreliable perception and grasp of reality, NSFW, dub-con, power imbalance, manipulative, creepy and slightly delusional behaviour, major canon diversions and my miserable attempt at making this work. Inspired by a post about dark Neo by @97keanu and some late-night discussions with my mutuals (wink)

Unedited Piece

You are dreaming. It is the same dream, the same man, over and over again. You dream of sitting inside a cafe you have never been to, and waiting. Who are you waiting for?

You don’t know.

It is the same damn cafe, always evening. At times, a faceless man shows up. Flowers in hand, carnations. But you never quite recognise him.

It has been a year since you have been having these ‘dreams’. At this point, you want to visit the cafe. But something in you is afraid. Afraid of what? You do not know.

You just feel…different. As if something is missing. You want to reach out, but it is like a veil has been put over your mind. You are brushing against memories that do not exist, but you feel them.

It’s like you are losing your mind.

Had it been just the dreams, you would have managed. But you randomly wake up in the middle of the night to an empty and dark room, as expected. But the air feels…charged. You feel every single hair on your body stand up, and the static.

You look around like you are expecting to see something or someone. But there is no physical evidence of an intruder. Never. You just feel it in your bones.

—---

“What if they track your pattern? You are endangering yourself and her.” Morpheus’s voice is hushed on the phone.

“They can’t reach me, or trace me, I made sure of that.” Neo’s voice is soft and quiet, lower than usual. He does not want to wake you.

As Thomas Anderson, he longed to be in the position that he is now. In your room, watching over you as you sleep.

Neo does not take off his eyewear, though. It helps him keep the codes in check. He is in control of this matrix now; the agents simply do not know it yet. They never will, until he hunts down every last one of them.

For now, he is content to play a subtle game with you. He wants you to revisit the cafe. He wants you to remember him. But some systems are permanent here. Like a necessary evil.

Every person who consumes the red pill is automatically removed from the memories of the Matrix, and the people trapped here. So, according to the Matrix, Thomas Anderson never existed. No one remembers him, and there are no traces left of him. Digital, physical, nothing.

It works to keep the world from descending into chaos and madness, but also aids in keeping people from sensing that something is wrong with this world.

He retreats into the corner, waving his palm and turning invisible to those bound to the Matrix when he senses you beginning to wake up.

Like every night, he watches you wake, looking around, as if expecting to see someone. He knows you can sense him, and it only turns him more determined. You can sense him, while no other human can. Your connection to him runs deeper. It was always meant to be.

There’s a slight heaviness he feels when you frantically look around, confused, unable to express what you feel, unable to put a pin on it. But you feel him. Somewhere deep inside your subconscious, you know it's him. It knows him

—--

You are standing in front of the cafe again. You have walked into this path many times, without even noticing. But something in you never lets you step inside. The space seems inviting and warm. So why do you hesitate?

Fuck it, I’m going in.

With that, you take a deep breath and walk—

You frown, realising that the lights seem suddenly brighter, as if it's night time already. You look around, only for your lips to part at the view outside.

You walked in moments ago with the sun high up in the sky. But from the cafe, you can see the nightlife. The street lights are lit up, the buildings are all bright, the sky is dark, and there are rumbles along with flashes in the sky.

How is this…

You look around, realising that you are the only person bothered by this strange phenomenon.

Your gaze zeroes in on a corner table with a bouquet placed on it. Without another thought, you walk towards it and pick up the bouquet. Carnations. Fresh, fragrant, beautiful blooms invite you to run your fingers through them. The bouquet from your dreams. Only the mystery man is missing.

You pick it up and find a little card taped to it. ‘To (Y/N)’ it reads when you unfold it. You turn to look to see if anyone is there, waiting for you. But somehow, you feel like you are the one waiting. For what? Whom?

Your eyes stop at the view outside. With the thunder rumbling and the wind picking up speed, the streets seem calmer. But one man is standing right underneath a street light. You take a step forward for a closer look. Despite the good distance, somehow, you just know he’s looking straight at you.

He is dressed in black. The hem of his coat moves and flows in stagnant waves as the wind picks up. He stands still, though. A part of black eyewear, hair brushed back, and broad shoulders straightened with a calm sense of foreboding and self-assurance.

You rush outside the cafe, the bouquet still in your grasp, only to stumble back at the feeling of sunlight as soon as you are outside. You look up and immediately shut your eyes under the unforgiving glare of the summer sun. When you turn to see that streetlight again, you find no one.

You drink yourself to sleep at night. Unable to come to terms with the events at the cafe. Yet the bouquet sits in your guestroom vase. Something in you could not leave it behind. Your eyes keep drifting towards the door before they feel too heavy to keep open. As if you are expecting someone to walk in. Who?

At the cafe, you have felt longing like never before. Deja Vu. That is the only explanation you have for what clouded your heart and mind in that cafe. The rest…the day, the night, that…that man. You have no idea what it was. Were you hallucinating? Was it all in your mind? Who was that man? Who left the bouquet?

Whatever you have experienced was real– the bouquet sitting in your living room is the evidence. But it has unsettled you to the core. You cannot look at the world the same way again. It has been like a jolt to you. Like you had been asleep for a long, long time and are about to wake up.

Tonight, your dreams manifest out of nowhere. You see yourself back in your office. But you are not working. You are in your cubicle, and the place feels eerily quiet, except for the whimpers and moans that escape your lips.

Fingers. Moving in a deliberate pattern inside you. You see the side of his neck, the white collar of his shirt that has a tinge of green. A very faint, but not just his shirt, everything around you seems to have a shadow of green cast over it. The world is the same as the world you live in, but it does not feel real.

Yet, his fingers moving inside you, producing that squelching noise that seems to grow embarrassingly louder with each moment, are what ground you. They feel real, this man feels.

You want to look up at him. You can smell him, feel the heat of his body against yours, you feel him standing between your thighs, your skirt hiked up, and his fingers inside your ruined panties, but you only have a zoomed-in view of his face.

Your cheeks pressed against his. You nose inhaling his scent before you feel his other hand bunch up your hair and pull your head, and meet his eager lips.

Your eyes flutter close, and at the same time, he curls his fingers one last time before you burst into a million sparks of ecstasy. You whine and rub your hips against his moving fingers, feeling conquered in the way his tongue caresses yours and the top of your mouth like he is contemplating something life-altering.

You gasp awake with the sight of the ceiling of your bedroom greeting you. Your hands are on your sides, fisting the ruffled bedsheet but you catch your breath. Your tongue has a lingering taste like no other, your lips are covered with saliva, and your womanhood throbs deliciously. You feel empty, and the warmth and slickness between your thighs do not help.

You look down to find your underwear messily shoved down enough to make space for fingers to be inside. It is ruined anyway. A heady scent hangs in the air as you look at your fingers. Did you just touch yourself in your sleep? Your fingers seem dry and smell nothing of the musk you anticipate when you bring them to your nose.

No, no trace of what you expect, but…but something else. A smell you know you have never smelled before, yet feels somehow familiar. You sigh, feeling a headache catching up. You have no energy to get up. You feel heavy and exhausted after experiencing pleasure like never before.

Taking off your underwear, you toss it away and fall back on the bed. Sleep, surprisingly, comes easily.

—-

It takes everything in Neo not to pick up the discarded underwear that has landed right in front of him. He stares down at it instead, the damp cotton tests his self-control. His throat dies, but he forces himself to tear his gaze away from the piece of cloth towards the bed.

His jaws clench when he is greeted by the most delicious sight imaginable. Nothing covers your lower half. Your soft thighs, legs messily tangled with the sheet and bare mound, are all for his sight— a low burning of his desire now shooting into dangerous flames licking at his sanity.

But he remains still, silently breathing in the scent of the room now heavy with the scent of your arousal while his eyes take in your form.

Parched. He is parched and empty without you. For now, though, he is satisfied with only licking his fingers slick with your essence.

—--

You do not understand what exactly is wrong with you. But maybe everything. You have dreams every other day. They manifest from all the nasty scenarios you had written in your digital diary. You type away your experiences, thoughts and often sensual imagination on your computer almost daily.

You conclude that you must be stressed. The strange encounter at the cafe has left you rattled. So your mind has come up with a way of relief, although temporary.

The only difference is the presence of this…mysterious, faceless man. You can feel him, smell him, even address him, but never see his face. Part of him. But never his full face, nothing to visually recognise him. You simply know it's him.

It is one of your dreams again. This time, it is a tinted glass wall, high up in a skyscraper, where the world below seems like an ant kingdom. You feel the cool glass and the golden sunset. Your breath condenses against the glass with each huff.

It is a dream. You have come to realise every time this happens. It is a dream, but this time it is different. You have never written or imagined such a scenario.

But sounds of pleasure escape your throat nevertheless. You feel fingers slide across your neck, holding you still as your hips rock with his, the sensual rhythm and the delicious fullness of having him inside you elicit a breathy chuckle from you.

It is him. You know the touch, the cologne, the way he feels and the warmth he provides.

That's when you see it--the reflection on the glass, and your smile drops. This man behind you, pressing your naked body against the glass, smells and feels familiar, but is not the same you have dreamt about for so long. But it is the man you saw right outside the cafe that day.

The man with black eyewear, all dressed in black, hair brushed back and an air of authority that seems to command the room he walks into.

You gasp and try to move, but he keeps you pinned, still thrusting in and out of you, drawling out pleasure that keeps holding your rational mind hostage.

Your hands, once on the glass, come to hold or push him, desperate to turn around, yet too deep in pleasure to stop your movements or the spasming against his length.

“Wh–who—” is all you can manage.

“You know me.” His voice somehow sounds deeper, unfamiliar, despite it being the same voice you have heard in your dreams many times before. “You have to ask yourself.”

You feel his lips against your ear before his teeth clamp lightly over them, and you jolt forward. Your walls flutter uncontrollably, and you feel the slickness rolling down your thighs as he continues to thrust inside you. The flood of warmth makes your eyes roll back while a guttural moan escapes your throat. You gasp, claw and mewl, crying out in pleasure.

You are lit up in flames of desire– in this moment, you feel him filling inside you— filling your veins, mind and soul.

You open your eyes once more, damp lashes blink at the man pinning you against the glass, lazily thrusting to drag out the pleasure, before you are snuffed out of your dream world.

You wake up, glistening with sweat, and a sweet ache and emptiness between your legs. You hear the wetness and feel it. Thick and sticky, yet your mind is muddled enough to think it's only your own arousal. You fall into a dreamless sleep as soon as you wake up.

This time, you dream of a hazy figure in black, hovering over your bed, running his fingers through your hair.

—-

“Soon, I would need a red pill,” Neo says to Morpheus on the phone. He is one with the bustling market crowd, but his eyes never stray from your figure.

Your shoulders appear slumped, and your eyes are downcast. You are visibly exhausted, yet you carry on. Soon, you will be free from these meaningless burdens. Then, you can focus your energy on what truly matters, your relationship with him.

“What are you planning, Neo?” Morpheus’ voice turns slightly distorted other end “Shouldn’t you be focusing on the Matrixes that are not yet under our control?”

“She is important to me. Start preparing my apartment.”

—-

You think you are going crazy. But there is no proper sign of madness yet. Only you see that man everywhere. He is never right in front of you. No. You see glimpses of him. Like a shadow, you feel him everywhere you go, and see him from the corner of your eyes. But he disappears when you turn.

It becomes a regular occurrence, and you think you are slowly spiralling into insanity. But all the other aspects of your life remain undisturbed. You only see this mysterious man dressed in black from the corner of your eye

It started with the tail of his coat, the flowing fabric of a dramatic and rushed exit. You ignored it as any rational person would. But then, it turned to seeing the silhouette of a full-grown man from the corner of your eyes.

Every day, you feel him closer. You see a little more of him, like his pale skin, the dark eyewear and dark hair.

He just feels unreal. But he is very much real–you know it in your bones.

Every time you wake up at odd hours, you somehow expect the man looming over your bed. But you find no one. Nothing seems out of place, but your home does not feel the same. The air has shifted.

You cannot explain how, but it feels like you are no longer the only resident here. The door you remember closing turns out to be open, the windows you forgot to close before leaving are closed shut when you return, and there is this…smell.

Leather and fuel, along with hints of earthy fragrance. You have tried bringing your friends for a sleepover to see if they feel the same. But none of them seem to notice.

At this point, you are afraid to confide in any friend. What if they think that you are losing your mind? What if you really are losing it?

Your dreams become more vivid. The touches fell more profound. Not like they weren’t before. But you see more of him. And the more you see him in your dreams, the more you realise that the man in your dreams is eerily similar to the man you see from the corner of your eyes.

It must have been apparent that you're disturbed about something, at least to your friends at work. So they drag you for a fun Friday Night.

It turns out to be actually fun. You get to drink, eat, laugh and let loose a little. You find yourself on the dance floor, but no one is close enough. Yet you feel the static energy buzzing around. You are sober enough to feel the shift, but not enough to be truly alarmed.

You remain where you are, feeling suddenly braver. There is a buzzing need to ground yourself. You tell yourself that it will all go away once you face it head-on, whatever, or whoever he or it is.

But all thoughts evaporate when you feel the warmth of a palm over your swaying hips. The familiar touch jolts you awake from the haze. This time, it is different. This time, you are not in your bedroom; you are not asleep. You are awake, and you are at a nightclub. You are awake and among people, and yet you feel the familiar touch and the presence.

You feel his lips over your ears, his body pressing against yours. You smell him—leather and fuel. “Trying to run away from the truth?” You stiffen, yet your eyes flutter close in surrender.

“Thomas?” You do not know why you say that name, but it flashes in your mind, and your tongue rolls on its own.

Thomas? Who is Thomas?

You want to turn around, but he holds you firmly against him. Unlike the wild pace your heart has taken, you only feel his steady heartbeat. His lips brush against your ear with a deliberate movement. “My name…Is Neo.”

“Neo…” His name tastes like enchantment, and perhaps, you are already enchanted. You must have been too drunk, or simply lost any remaining sense of self-preservation, as you lean against him, testing his name on your tongue again.

So this is the man who haunts your dreams and infests your reality? Is he the final push to your descent into madness?

He takes your hand and leads you away from the crowd, towards the bar, where a man dressed similarly to him serves drinks to the patrons.

It's like you are in a daze— you let him lead you towards it. Maybe it is due to the joint you smoked with friends earlier? The lingering effects perhaps take away any sense of self-preservation.

He takes off his dark eyewear, and you get to look into his deep, calm orbs. He exudes an extraordinary sense of calm and authority, like you can hide nothing from him, like even if you choose to break into a sprint, it would be futile.

“Drink”, he offers you the red drink. Your hands reach out for it, even though your mind screams for you to stop. You pause and look at him. One nod of encouragement is all it takes for you to tune out every warning your mind throws at you.

It’s like you are devoid of any thought or free will. Your movements feel strange, drawn-out, unlike you. But you have no control over your own body. You take a sip. Despite the caution and confusion, the beverage tastes better than anything you have ever had.

“What do you remember about Thomas?”

You frown at the question, gazing at him while you take another sip of the irresistible drink.

“I…I don't know. It just slipped out.” You seriously have no idea. It was out of the blue.

“You aren't supposed to remember, but something in you does. This is a sign.”

“Wh-what sign?” You take a final gulp, finishing the drink while he tugs you towards the exit of the club.

You suddenly feel it, something solid and tiny passing down your throat along with the drink “Wh–what was that?” You finally feel like you are in control again and try to pull your hands away.

But his grip is iron as he drags you towards an isolated exit of the club. When he opens the door, you expect stairs, but are bewildered to find your living room.

“That, and this…” He turns to you, shutting the door, “... it's all a lie, a prison. I am saving you.”

He finally lets go, but you do not answer him, you are in no state to. Instead, you rush towards your apartment door, still in shock. Throwing it open, you find the common corridor you are familiar with.

“No...this can’t be.”

“She is not ready, Sir.” The other man states.

“She will be.” You vaguely hear him through your laboured breathing as you see thin lines of numbers appearing all around you. The colour green has never been more sickening.

“N–no…no. What’s happening?” You gasp out, feeling piercing chills all over, “I’m cold!” It’s like you are losing your voice, it comes in gasps and muffled “I’m cold!”

You try to scream, but you cannot. Your legs can no longer hold your weight, but ‘Neo’ wraps his arms around you.

He is warm, you vaguely realise, feeling the green almost blinding you. But you are still cold.

#yandere neo anderson #neo anderson #the matrix neo #yandere neo anderson x reader #the matrix #neo anderson xreader #after life

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devonsawas · 9 months ago

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THE MATRIX | 1999 ↳ Written & Directed by Lana & Lilly Wachowski

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blackcoffeeblackeyes · 18 days ago

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.｡.:*✧ 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚗𝚜𝚏𝚠 𝙽𝚎𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 ✧*:.｡.

#the matrix #neo the matrix #my moodboard #keanuverse #thomas anderson #neo anderson #keanu reeves

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discoscoob · 10 months ago

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FRIEND ZONE | Neo Anderson x Reader

Under the warm glow of a single lamp and the flickering light of the television, that neither of you are paying any attention to, Neo sits silently on the couch in your shared apartment. Curled up beside him, with your head buried against his chest, you sob against the worn fabric of his dark hoodie.

Neo feels his heart ache with a heaviness settling in his chest and one question clawing at his insides. How could anyone hurt you like this? You’re too kind, too precious, too… perfect to be inflicted with that kind of pain. How could someone take your love for granted, when he would do anything to have you look at him the way you look at those unworthy fools who only end up hurting you?

He shifts slightly, unsure how to hold you without holding too tightly. His arms feel clumsy in moments like this. He wants to cradle you, to keep you safe and protect you, but instead he just awkwardly rests his arm on your shoulder, the lightest touch - the only touch he dares.

You sniffle, lifting your head just enough to speak, the sight of your swollen and puffy eyes, agitated by your tears, provokes a coiling ache in the pit of Neo’s stomach.

“Why do I always pick the worst guys?” you wipe your tears with your sweater paws, your voice shaky and raw as you speak. “I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong? Why is it so hard to find someone who actually cares? Someone who will love me… for me.”

Neo’s throat tightens. Every time you say something like that, it’s like you’re throwing daggers straight at his heart, unaware how much he aches to unburden himself of his hidden feelings towards you. He wants to shout, I'm right here! He wants to pull you closer and tell you that you don't have to keep searching. He wants to tell you that you’ve already found the guy who would give anything to make you smile, to protect your heart like it's the most precious thing in the world— because to him, it is.

“He was a jerk, Y/N. You didn’t do anything wrong, he’s an idiot for not realising how lucky he was to have you.” Neo says softly, his fingers gently rubbing circles on your shoulder. “You deserve so much better than him. Someone who will cherish you and would do anything just to make you happy.”

“I don’t think such a guy exists, Neo.” your shaky laugh sounds bitter as you hopelessly admit your dwindling faith in love.

The words hit Neo in the chest like a hammer. His heart twists painfully, almost cruelly. It's not just what you said—it's the finality of it, the way you’re so convinced that no one would ever love you the way you deserve. No one, including him. It's like you don't see him at all. It makes him feel invisible.

I exist, his mind screams, but his mouth stays sealed.

“He does exist, Y/N. I promise, he does.” his strained voice answers around the lump in his throat that he painfully swallows. Neo hesitates, the truth on the tip of his tongue, held back by his own cowardice. The thought of losing you, your friendship, your laughter, your late-night talks — it paralyses him. He knows if he tells you the truth, everything could change. What if you pull away from him, the only person he's ever felt this connected to? What if he loses you? That scares him more than anything.

“Maybe… maybe he’s closer than you think.” Neo cautiously adds, his fragile heart anxiously teetering between the possibility that you might catch onto his subtle hint and realistically knowing that you won’t. His heart will fall either way because the possibility of you knowing will only lead to the possibility of your rejection.

“I wish more guys were like you, Neo. You’re the only one who never lets me down. I don’t know what I’d do without you… you’re like my rock.” Neo feels his chest clench uncomfortably at your words, because they’re agonisingly close to what he desperately wants to hear but almost cruelly they’re not meant in the way that he wishes. They’re never meant in the way that he wishes.

“I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. I promise I’ll never let you down.”

And he means it. Even if it means swallowing his own feelings. Even if it means watching you fall for someone else again and again. He will pick up the pieces of your broken heart and carefully put them back together with tender care. While neglecting his own broken heart. Because loving you is the easiest thing he's ever done. Telling you... that's the hardest.

#finished quicker than I expected #it’s just a short piece #keanu reeves #neo anderson #the matrix #neo anderson x reader #neo x reader #my fics

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