#Soulmate Expert | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

brunchable · 1 month ago

Text

𝗠𝘆 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗣𝗼𝗿𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿

Pairings: PornStar!Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Sexual Innuendo/humour,Guy next door, situational comedy? If you're not up for a few second-hand embarrassment sit this one out lol. Summary: Your coworker peer pressured you to look up SergeantBarnes in Pornhub, reason? Because apparently you're missing out. A/N: This would make a good mini series. . .but we'll see. I had a dream. . .that he was a guy next door, just wanted to-of course-add a twist to it asdfghjkl.

It was all Amy’s fault. And Trish’s. And okay, maybe you shared a little bit of the blame for caving to the intense peer pressure at work. But still.

You’d been minding your own business in the break room, scrolling through lunch menus, when Amy had sidled up, leaned in with that conspiratorial look on her face, and whispered, “Have you seen him yet?”

“Seen who?” your eyebrows creased as you asked, confused.

Trish popped up out of nowhere, clutching her latte in her hand. “Girl, SeargentBarnes. The guy is legendary—I mean, a literal internet icon.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference while they exchanged a look that practically screamed, amateur. They started talking all at once, dropping cryptic phrases like “too hot to handle,” “you’re gonna die,” and, “you’ll never look at men the same way again.”

So there you were that night, alone with your laptop, curled up in bed and biting your lip as you debated whether to type it in. It’s just curiosity, you reasoned. Research purposes.

Your eyes widened as the screen filled with… well, humanity, in all its naked, unfiltered glory. Your face heated up so fast you could’ve sworn it was the same shade as your throw pillow. Videos lined up like some weird buffet, titles more scandalous than anything you’d ever whispered in confession, and… was that a whole category devoted to delivery men? You slapped a hand over your mouth to stop from yelping, mortified at the intensity of it all.

“I need to go to church after this,” you muttered, squinting like that would somehow censor the thorough dedication people were showing in their, uh, procreation endeavors.

“SergeantBarnes,” you muttered to yourself as you typed, fingers hovering uncertainly over the Enter key. Then, with a sigh, you hit search, and… oh.

You nearly choked on oxygen. Because there he was, in HD glory, right on Pornhub, with that cocky grin and those blue eyes that looked like they’d been crafted in a lab. And he wasn’t just standing there looking smug—oh, no, he was on a mission, shirtless, flexing, and smirking at the camera like he was the world’s best-kept secret. The scene panned to him sitting on the edge of a bed, peeling off his belt with one hand, a glint in his eyes that seemed to say, this is what you came for.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, equal parts horrified and morbidly fascinated, as he proceeded to… well, get very familiar with his costar. SergeantBarnes was apparently an expert at multitasking, using every muscle, every inch of his well-equipped arsenal. And the way he was delivering lines? He was clearly treating the camera like it was his soulmate.

By minute two, your jaw had dropped. By minute five, you’d set the laptop on your nightstand to “watch responsibly.” By minute ten, you were convinced Amy and Trish had permanently ruined your life.

And the costar—she was practically putting on an Oscar-worthy performance, her reactions so intense you half expected her to start speaking in tongues. Every time SergeantBarnes’s… rod of justice plunges deep inside, she gasps like she was witnessing a miracle. You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Come on, is that really necessary?

As you watched, he gave a low, rumbling sound—half growl, half sigh—that sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. His gaze burned through the screen with a confidence that was practically magnetic, and suddenly, you understood exactly why the costar was gasping. A new, unbidden heat pooled between your legs, making you shift uncomfortably, instinctively pressing your thighs together as if that could somehow stop the flush creeping up your face. Oh no, now I wish I were her, you thought, immediately cringing at yourself.

With a mix of half-laughter and half-horror, you reached over and slammed the laptop shut so fast it was like you were trying to save yourself from spontaneous combustion.

“Holy—oh, wow,” you whispered, pressing a hand to your face. “Okay. That was a one-time thing.”

Or so you thought.

Except now, every time you even glanced at your laptop, SergeantBarnes was right there in your mind, reminding you exactly why he was internet-famous. It was becoming a bit of a problem.

× × × ×

The next morning, you stumbled out of your apartment, looking like something that had been left out in the rain and dragged through a blender, mentally cursing last night’s “research” session. The world had no right to be this bright, and your regret levels were at an all-time high as you lugged the world’s heaviest box down the hallway.

You were so absorbed in avoiding a complete breakdown that you barely registered the deep, too-familiar voice beside you.

“Need help with that?”

“Thanks, but I got it,” you muttered automatically, barely sparing him a glance.

Except...then you did.

You looked up, squinting in confusion. Because, standing in front of you, in the perfectly mundane hallway of your perfectly mundane building, was him.

You froze, your brain spinning like a buffering screen. Okay, this guy’s insanely handsome. Tall, broad-shouldered, stubbled jaw, eyes so blue they should have a health warning on them. You stared, mentally cataloging each feature, when—wait a minute... WAIT. A. MINUTE.

Your eyes narrowed, suspicion prickling as your brain finally fired up. Is that…? No, it can’t be.

But it was. Oh, it absolutely was.

SergeantBarnes, the very star of last night’s “educational” viewing, right here in the flesh. And suddenly, like a tractor beam had locked onto you, your gaze dropped right to his crotch, where you’d witnessed things you could never un-see.

This, of course, did not go unnoticed. His brows shot up as he followed your very obvious, very treacherous line of sight, glancing down at his jeans before looking back up at you with an infuriatingly smug grin.

“Uh… nice shoes?” you blurted out, your face feeling like it was on fire. You vaguely gestured to his boots, wishing you could vanish right into the walls.

“Thanks,” he replied smoothly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “They’re pretty sturdy. But, you know…” He paused, his voice dropping just a hair. “I don’t think they’re what you were looking at.”

Your heart sank as you forced yourself to look up, his amused blue eyes practically laughing at you. Abort. Abort mission. Oh God, we are way past mission failure.

“Uh—no, I just… um…” You floundered, desperately trying to think of something, anything, that might save you from the hole you’d dug. But no words came. Not even the faintest semblance of a coherent thought. Just one long, silent scream echoing in your brain.

“Bucky,” he offered helpfully, sticking out his hand like he wasn’t SergeantBarnes from Pornhub, but just some guy offering to help with a box. “New neighbor, by the way.”

You stared at his hand like it was a booby trap, your brain short-circuiting as it reminded you exactly where those fingers had been. That hand had gripped… things. It had been places you’d only dreamed of, doing things you’d probably need a core workout just to survive. You could practically see the “viewer discretion advised” warning flashing in your head as you hesitated, still staring at his hand as if it might explode.

But, against your better judgment—and every shred of dignity—you slowly reached out and shook it, feeling your own fingers betray you by sweating as they made contact with his very… experienced ones.

“Uh… hi… I’m… yep.” you blurted, mentally cringing.

“‘Yep’? That’s a good name,” he said, smirking as he let go. “You sure you don’t need help? You seem… a little flustered.”

Flustered? Understatement of the century. If your dignity had been a cup, it was empty, bone-dry, and cracked. You forced yourself to focus, eyes straight forward, pointedly ignoring the very tempting crotch-level view.

“I’m fine! Totally fine!” you squeaked, cringing at your own voice. Oh God, calm down!

But he just chuckled, that same dangerously cocky smile from last night plastered all over his face. “Alright, Yep. Guess I’ll see you around.”

As he turned to leave, you stood there in the hallway, clutching the box like it was a life raft, heart racing a mile a minute. You’d just had a very public staring incident with SergeantBarnes, your new neighbor, and all you’d managed to say was nice shoes.

I’m gonna need new coworkers, you thought, practically burying your face in the box as you scurried to your apartment.

The door slammed shut with a bang that could probably be heard across state lines. You dropped the box unceremoniously, ignoring the loud thunk as it hit the floor, and whipped your phone out, fingers flying across the screen like you were composing a manifesto.

Guys, you’re NEVER gonna guess who my neighbor is—

You paused, staring at the screen as the rest of the text formed in your mind: THE SergeantBarnes. LIVE. IN. THE. FLESH.

But then another thought stopped you dead in your tracks. Oh no.

You could already picture it: Amy and Trish showing up like rabid fangirls in their “I Heart SergeantBarnes” merch, carrying suspiciously flimsy plates of brownies. Trish would have binoculars. Amy would be taking notes, probably trying to “accidentally” leave her phone number under his door. You shuddered, imagining them cornering him by the mailboxes, all of them acting like they were definitely not the type of women who had his entire catalog bookmarked on their phones.

A horrible realization hit you. If I tell them, this man’s gonna be living a nightmare right next door to me. Not just a nightmare, a Trish-and-Amy-sponsored fan club nightmare, where they might even break into song—probably chanting, “SergeantBarnes! SergeantBarnes!” while he tries to get his groceries.

You looked back at your unsent message and deleted it in one go, feeling weirdly proud of yourself. Yeah, no. I’m not letting them anywhere near him.

Totally altruistic, of course. It had nothing to do with keeping the eye candy to yourself.

You took a deep breath, looking around your empty apartment like you were expecting the FBI to burst through the door at any second. Sure, you’d just been in the hallway with the actual SergeantBarnes, but maybe… maybe you were imagining things. It had been a long day. Moving was stressful. Stranger things had happened, right?

With a surge of resolve (and denial), you dashed to your bedroom, practically sliding across the floor as you went. Your laptop was waiting innocently on the nightstand, and with a quick glance over your shoulder to ensure you were still alone, you opened it up, clicked incognito mode like you were hiding state secrets, and went straight to the website you’d sworn off only hours ago.

“Alright… just to confirm,” you muttered to yourself, feeling your cheeks burn as you typed SergeantBarnes into the search bar, mentally bracing yourself for the flood of results.

And there he was. The whole page filled with him, in various… positions. You swallowed, scrolling until one video caught your eye: “Sergeant Disciplines the Bratty Recruit.”

You snorted, almost slamming the laptop shut. “Oh, for heaven’s sake…”

But curiosity was a dangerous beast, and before you could talk yourself out of it, your finger had already clicked play.

The video started, with SergeantBarnes in all his glory, wearing what looked like the world’s tightest military uniform. His face was as smug as ever, that telltale glint of mischief in his eyes as he muttered something absurd like, “Think you can handle me, recruit?”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, cringing as you half-covered your eyes but peeked through your fingers anyway.

But there was no denying it—the face, the voice, the ridiculous, smoldering look into the camera. There was no escaping it now. It was 100% him. The same guy who was now living approximately ten feet away from your own front door.

As the video continued, your disbelief only grew. This man… this man is next door, could eating cereal right now, you thought, torn between horrified fascination and the urge to laugh. Because there he was, in full “disciplinary action” mode, doing things you could barely process, and here you were, watching it again, just to make sure it was really him.

“Oh, I’m doomed,” you muttered, slapping the laptop shut. You weren’t even sure if you were embarrassed, impressed, or maybe just a little terrified of your own neighbor.

× × × ×

Over the next few days, it was like living in a twisted sitcom. Everywhere you went, he was there, lurking like some kind of sexy, mildly inconvenient specter. It was uncanny. You’d turn a corner, and bam—there he’d be, giving you that polite nod and a smirk that clearly said, I know exactly what you’ve seen.

It started small. You’d step into the elevator, praying for a peaceful ride, and ding! in he’d stroll, flashing that devastating grin. Instantly, you’d stiffen, gluing yourself to the opposite wall, practically trying to meld with the buttons, heart pounding like you were about to pass out. You couldn’t even look him in the eye without flashes of his, uh, “filmography” playing in your mind. Every single time, without fail, you found yourself studying the very clean floor of the elevator as he leaned casually against the wall, the corners of his mouth tugging up.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” he’d ask, all smooth, innocent charm. Meanwhile, you were there like, Oh, totally, perfect day to run into my favorite Pornhub star.

You were in the laundry room, blissfully alone, humming to yourself as you separated your clothes like a responsible adult. Whites here, colors there, delicates—well, you were kind of just tossing them wherever at this point. Then, suddenly, you felt it: a shift in the air, a presence. You froze, the hair on the back of your neck standing up, a sock suspended mid-toss in your hand. Why do I feel like the music should be getting dramatic right about now?

Slowly, as if sensing his approach, you turned. And there he was—Bucky, striding in with a laundry basket filled with a suspiciously pristine pile of perfectly folded, incredibly manly clothing. It was as if he’d just stepped out of some kind of… laundry commercial. Or worse… one of his own videos.

You blinked, eyes widening as a thousand clichés suddenly flashed through your mind. Oh no, why does this feel like the start of a porn? you thought, biting your lip as you realized the two of you were, in fact, very alone, surrounded by washing machines and suspiciously warm lighting. You mentally kicked yourself. Snap out of it! This is laundry. Regular, boring laundry.

Bucky caught your eye, giving you an amused once-over. “Doing some laundry?” he asked, his voice low and casual, but somehow it felt like the most suggestive question in the world.

You opened your mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Uh-huh,” you managed, trying to sound like a normal human being. “Just, uh… laundry.”

Your face felt like it was on fire as you realized half of your load was underwear, strewn everywhere. Panties, bras, socks—they were all there in their mismatched glory, practically screaming, We’re personal items! Pay extra attention! You yanked your gaze away from the pile, mortified, and flung the sock into the washer like you were trying to disarm a bomb.

You slammed the washer lid down, feeling like you’d just revealed way too much. But Bucky only grinned, strolling over with that maddening swagger. He tossed a shirt into the washer beside you, leaning against it with a smirk.

“Nice sorting skills,” he commented, eyes flicking down to the very obvious pile of bras and lace that you’d tried to hide. “Very… thorough.”

“Yep!” you squeaked, feeling like you might explode. You fumbled with the detergent bottle, struggling to open it as your brain went into full-blown panic mode. Why does this feel like one of those videos? Don’t look at him. Just don’t look. Pretend you’re alone. Pretend this is fine.

But of course, he wasn’t making it any easier. He folded his arms, watching you with a raised brow, the picture of calm while you were desperately trying to load underwear without dying of embarrassment.

“You know,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh, “usually people try to separate colors from whites.”

“Oh, I do! I mean, I… it’s a system,” you stammered, feeling like you were caught in a lie by the laundry police. “Sometimes it’s… it’s an artistic choice.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with that insufferable amusement. “Artistic laundry, huh? Didn’t take you for the experimental type.”

“Yep,” you said, forcing a laugh as you stuffed in the last sock, your hands moving at lightning speed, desperate to finish and escape.

But as you turned to leave, he held up a stray bra that had somehow escaped your grasp, dangling it between two fingers with a raised eyebrow.

“You forgot this,” he said, voice dripping with that same mischievous humor.

You stared at the bra in horror, feeling your face go molten.

“Uh… thanks,” you mumbled, practically ripping it out of his hand and stuffing it into the washer, slamming the lid down one last time before you spun on your heel and speed-walked out of there.

Behind you, you heard him chuckle softly, his voice echoing in the hallway. “See you around, neighbor.”

Yep, you thought, already halfway down the hall, never doing laundry again.

By day three, it got ridiculous. You’d ducked into the mailroom, hoping he was out doing normal human things—maybe mowing a lawn or whatever. But no, as soon as you opened your mailbox, there he was, standing by his own, sorting through a stack of letters. You froze, briefly considering whether you could just flee and come back later for your electric bill.

And then… the grocery bag incident.

You were in the hallway, arms overloaded with bags because, naturally, you’d ignored the cart right by the entrance and had instead decided to carry it all in one go. You were so close to your door when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Need help?” he asked, that voice making you nearly fumble every bag in your arms.

You turned, scrambling to say, “No, I’m good,” but of course, in your panic, one of your bags tipped, and a lone, horrifying item fell out and hit the floor. You watched, paralyzed, as the little bottle of lube rolled out with an audible clatter, spinning lazily to a stop right in front of him.

You could practically feel the heat exploding from your cheeks. No. Oh no. Not like this.

You looked up, meeting his amused, slightly raised eyebrows as his lips twitched, clearly fighting a smile.

“Uh,” you choked out, unable to form a single coherent sentence. Think fast, make it sound normal, you told yourself, even though every possible explanation was racing out of your head.

He bent down, picking up the bottle with a glint of pure mischief in his eyes, inspecting it like he’d just found evidence of some grand crime.

“Hey, everyone’s got needs,” he said, deadpan, but that twinkle in his eye was anything but innocent. “Don’t worry.” He tossed you a wink, handing the bottle back like it was no big deal.

Your mouth opened, then closed, then opened again as your brain scrambled to form a sentence. Finally, the words tumbled out like a train wreck, your dignity left somewhere back at the grocery store.

“It’s… it’s for my friend,” you squeaked, clutching the lube bottle with both hands like it was a sacred artifact. He raised an eyebrow, looking entirely too entertained for your liking. “She’s, uh, she’s constipated.”

A moment of silence.

“She needs it to… you know, help with a suppository.” You forced a grin that you were sure looked more like a grimace. “She, uh… can’t get things moving. Really jammed up in there.”

Bucky’s face twisted in barely suppressed laughter, and his shoulders shook as he struggled to keep a straight face.

“Right,” he drawled, nodding with an expression that was one part pity and two parts are you for real? “That’s… thoughtful of you.”

You felt like you were overheating, a human furnace on the verge of combustion.

“She’s desperate!” you blurted, doubling down on your ridiculous story, even though every fiber of your being was screaming to stop talking. “I’m just being a good friend, you know? Supportive. I mean, she’s the one who’s backed up.”

He nodded again, still fighting a smile, the look in his eyes a mix of amusement and something else that made your pulse race.

“Sure,” he said, “nothing like helping a friend in need.” He paused, that wicked smile growing as he added, “In my experience, though, there are plenty of other uses for it.”

Your soul left your body.

He held out his hands in mock innocence, chuckling as your eyes widened to saucers.

“Just saying,” he winked. “Versatile stuff.”

And with that, he turned, strolling down the hall with a casual wave, leaving you frozen and mortified, clutching the bottle to your chest like a lifeline.

“Gotta… go,” you managed, voice barely a whisper, stumbling the last few steps to your door as you fumbled with the keys, practically falling inside.

The second the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it, staring at the ceiling and whispering, “I’m never leaving my apartment again.”

Just as you were about to bury your face in your hands and live in the sweet, silent embrace of shame, your phone buzzed. You pulled it out, still reeling from the lube disaster, and saw a text from your friend, Clara.

Clara: Hey!! Did you get the lube?? Need it ASAP, things are… not moving over here, if you catch my drift.

You groaned, staring at the message, letting it sink in that yes, this entire disaster had been real.

You: Yes. Got it. Never speaking of this again.

Clara: Bless you, you lifesaver. My digestive system owes you a standing ovation.

You rolled your eyes, still red-faced. Clara had no idea you’d just had to explain the entire situation to your painfully attractive neighbor—who now likely thought you were a walking sitcom.

× × × ×

It started subtly—just a little teasing, or so you thought. But it quickly spiraled into a game you could only describe as Bucky Barnes: Merciless Teasing—Extended Cut. Every time you crossed paths, he managed to twist the knife just a little deeper, making you sweat, stumble, and practically choke on your own words.

The first time it happened, you were hauling a huge box out of your car, trying to look capable and independent, when he strolled up beside you, leaning against the car with a smirk.

“You act like I’m a celebrity,” he said, eyebrow cocked. “Every time you see me, you look ready to run.”

You fumbled, nearly dropping the box.

“Nope! I’m just…uh, busy!” you squeaked, scrambling to walk away at top speed, box clutched to your chest like a shield. But you caught his laugh as you rushed off, making you want to evaporate on the spot.

The next time, you were in the stairwell, headphones in, desperately trying to avoid any more awkward run-ins. Naturally, the moment you looked up, there he was, lounging at the landing like some kind of paid actor in a commercial. You froze mid-step as he raised a brow.

“Look at that,” he said, giving you the once-over, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost every time you see me. Is it something I did?”

You stammered, turning pink.

“No! Just, uh… headphones! Music! Loud music!” you blurted, before speed-walking up the stairs, praying he didn’t hear the Spice Girls song you’d been blasting. Behind you, his chuckle echoed up the stairwell like the final taunt of a villain.

But the absolute worst came at the coffee shop.

You were in line, looking at your phone, hoping you could just breeze in and out. The moment you placed your order and turned to leave, there he was, standing right behind you, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“Hey, neighbor,” he drawled, eyeing your coffee cup like it was some incriminating evidence. “Funny running into you here. Or… do you keep running into me?”

Your face flushed, and you tried to think of something clever, but it was like all your brain cells had gone on vacation.

“Nope! Definitely just getting coffee! I don’t even… live near here!” you babbled, immediately regretting everything.

“Oh, interesting,” he replied, his grin widening. “Because I could swear you live right next door. But hey, if you want to keep pretending you don’t know me, I’ll go along with it.” He handed you your coffee with a wink. “See you around… or not.”

But things took a turn for the mortifying when, one evening, you were pacing the hallway on the phone with Clara, trying to vent without actually collapsing in a pile of awkwardness.

“It’s him, Clara!” you hissed, oblivious to the fact that you were pacing right outside Bucky’s door. “I’m living next door to SergeantBarnes! Can you believe this? I’ve seen everything he has to offer! I’ve practically studied him!”

Clara was howling with laughter, but you were too wrapped up in your frustration to care.

“And he knows, Clara! He keeps showing up everywhere, saying stuff like, ‘You seem nervous’ and ‘You keep looking at me like you know something I don’t.’ I swear, he’s doing it on purpose!” You paused, sighing dramatically. “The man is basically torturing me!”

“Yeah?” Clara snorted. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Nothing! I’m gonna hide in my apartment forever! I mean, the guy is—” You froze mid-sentence, sensing a presence that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Please, for the love of all that is holy, no.

You slowly turned, and there he was. Bucky. Leaning against his door, arms crossed, looking like he’d just won the freaking lottery.

“Oh… my god…” you whispered, feeling your soul leave your body. He was watching you with an expression of pure, unfiltered amusement, one eyebrow quirked, lips pulled into that infuriating, knowing smirk.

“Well,” he said, voice laced with mischief. “That makes one of us.” His eyes glinted with barely-contained laughter. “And here I thought you were just a fan of my boots.”

You could practically feel your brain cells going up in smoke.

“I… uh… well… I…” you stammered, cheeks burning. “Boots… are great,” you managed, wanting to sink into the earth.

“Yeah? Because I seem to remember you looking… elsewhere last time,” he teased, stepping a little closer, enjoying every second of your embarrassment.

“Oh, no! Just… boots!” you squeaked, backing up, practically tripping over yourself. “I really should go… water my… uh… plants!”

He chuckled, savoring every second of your panic. “Good luck with that,” he said, throwing in one last wink as he slipped back into his apartment, leaving you in the hallway, feeling like you’d just gone through a slow-motion car crash.

Back in your apartment, you slid down the door, hands over your face as Clara’s laughter erupted over the phone.

“Boots?” she howled. “THAT’S what you went with? Boots?”

You groaned, banging your head back against the door. “Shut up, Clara.”

× × × ×

Determined to reclaim a shred of your dignity, you strode into the local coffee shop, praying for a quiet morning with zero embarrassing encounters. But, as if on cue, the universe had other plans.

There, right at the counter, was Bucky. He spotted you instantly, his face lighting up with that all-too-familiar grin that had haunted your dreams. There was no escape.

He waved you over, and before you could even think of pretending you hadn’t seen him, he was calling out, “Morning, neighbor! What’s your coffee order again?” His voice was loud enough that half the shop turned to look.

“Oh, um… it’s…” you stammered, but he’d already waved to the barista.

“Got it covered,” he said, leaning casually against the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ve got a feeling you like it with extra cream.”

You choked on your own saliva, feeling your face turn crimson as he handed you the cup with a wink.

“Unless I’m wrong?” he added with a smirk, feigning innocence.

“N-Nope, that’s right!” you managed, grabbing the cup like it was a shield. “Extra cream… perfect.”

He chuckled, gesturing to an empty booth in the corner. “Great. Then you won’t mind sitting down with me for breakfast.”

“Oh no, really, I should—”

He raised an eyebrow. “What, got somewhere better to be?”

You froze, helplessly aware that the entire coffee shop was listening in. You managed a nervous laugh, mumbling, “Well… no, I guess not…”

Before you knew it, you were sitting across from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes anywhere but his face, your cheeks burning as he sipped his coffee and watched you with a smug smile.

“So,” he said, leaning forward, “what’s a girl like you doing watching a guy like me online, anyway?”

Your jaw dropped, coffee cup halfway to your mouth. “I—I wasn’t watching—It was research!” you spluttered, already kicking yourself for falling right into his trap.

He chuckled, clearly reveling in your embarrassment.

“Oh, sure, ‘research,’” he said, nodding like he totally believed you. “I get it. You know, it’s important to be informed.”

You practically shrank into your seat, glancing around to see if anyone else had heard. “Could you not say that so loudly?”

He smirked, taking a long, deliberate sip of his coffee.

“Relax, I’m just curious,” he said, leaning in close enough that you could smell his aftershave. “Gotta say, it’s a little flattering to have a fan right next door.”

Your brain completely short-circuited. “Fan? I—no! I mean, not like that… I… I barely even…” You could feel the lie crumbling in your throat as his smirk deepened.

“Uh-huh. Then why did you look like you were about to sprint every time you saw me?” He tilted his head, studying you, eyes twinkling. “And I swear you turned pink the second you walked in here.”

Your hands shot up, covering your cheeks. “I did not! You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” he said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Because it’s like clockwork. Every time I’m around, you look like you’ve been caught red-handed. I don’t mind, you know,” he added, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

You let out a strangled laugh, ready to crawl under the table.

“That’s… obvious,” you muttered, feeling as though you might combust at any second.

“Okay, so since we’re having breakfast together, how about you tell me: any favorite scenes?” He laughed, looking entirely too amused as he stirred his coffee.

You practically choked on your coffee, face flaming as you tried to hide behind your cup.

“I—I can’t believe you just asked that!” you squeaked, horrified and unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, come on,” he grinned, clearly enjoying every second. “It’s just small talk. I mean, who better to ask than a neighbor?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please pretend this conversation never happened?”

“Nope. Can’t do that,” he replied, laughing. “I think it’s a little late for that.”

Just as you were starting to pray for an earthquake to swallow you whole, you glanced up at him, cheeks still flaming.

“Did you… did you know I recognized you this whole time?”

He leaned back, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.

“Of course I did,” he said, laughing. “Figured it out the second I saw that look on your face. I just wanted to see if you’d ever bring it up.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, feeling mortification seep into your very bones. “And you kept messing with me?”

“Of course,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a wicked grin. “I was just waiting to see how long it would take for you to crack. Guess now the ice is broken, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re the worst.”

He winked, finishing his coffee. “Yeah, but I make breakfast interesting, don’t I?”

You laughed, feeling the last traces of embarrassment fade away—well, at least enough to breathe normally again. But just as you started to feel almost… comfortable, Bucky tilted his head, giving you a curious look.

“So, neighbor,” he said, smirking, “I’ve gotta ask… what’s your name?”

You blinked, realizing with a jolt that you’d never actually told him. In all your attempts to dodge, deflect, and survive the relentless teasing, you hadn’t even bothered to introduce yourself.

“Oh… right,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up again. “I, uh, guess I never actually said.”

“Nope,” he replied, leaning in with a grin. “I just assumed you wanted to keep a little mystery between us.”

You rolled your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Trust me, I’m not that mysterious.”

“Really?” he replied, eyebrows raised. “Because all this time I’ve been calling you ‘Yep.’”

Your face went red as you remembered the first time you’d stammered a barely coherent “yep” instead of an introduction. “Oh my god. You haven’t been calling me that in your head this whole time, have you?”

He shrugged, smirking. “It’s kind of cute. Suits you, actually.”

You groaned, but laughed despite yourself, finally holding out your hand across the table. “Alright. I’m Y/N. Officially.”

“Y/N,” he repeated, taking your hand, his grip warm and firm. His smirk softened into something a little more genuine. “Good to meet you, Y/N. Officially.”

His hand lingered in yours for a beat longer than necessary, and for a moment, there was no teasing, no innuendos—just the two of you, sitting across the table, smiling like two normal people who’d just met under… semi-normal circumstances.

Then, just as you were starting to think maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this weirdly charming neighbor situation, he leaned back, that mischievous glint creeping back into his eyes.

“Now that we’re on a first-name basis,” he said, winking, “you can tell me all about your favorite scenes. You know, for professional feedback.”

You burst out laughing, face in your hands as he watched you with a triumphant grin. Yep, you thought, already regretting nothing and everything.

2K notes · View notes

catssluvr · 3 months ago

Text

𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅, spencer reid

spencer reid x roommate!reader

in which everybody’s falling in love and you’re falling behind or you come back from an awful date and spencer comforts you. well, he does his best

warnings: kinda sad for a bit, r really wants to be loved, two idiots in love <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You take off your shoes as soon as you reach your apartment's floor, exhaustion taking over. One hand reaches inside the bag to pull of the keys and the other rubs against your face one more time. You're sure your mascara is all smudged already. Not that you would ever cry for someone like that, but you don't think you've heard someone talk about their car as much as him and it honestly made you get sleepy.

You regret accepting to go on a blind date, deeply. It's never been your thing so why did you decide it was a good idea?

The truth is that it's hard to watch all of your friends fall in love and brag about their happy relationships when you don't even know how it feels to truly be loved. It's also not great that you're in love with your roommate when it's clearly not reciprocate. You have so much love to give, so why can't you find love as well?

Besides, the guy you just went out with is a total jerk. He made at least four sex jokes before the drinks arrived and bragged about his career for about half of the time (the other half was about his car). As soon as dinner was over you practically bolted out the restaurant, ignoring his comment about a 'second desert'. It's safe to say you never want to see him again.

Unlocking the door with a sigh, you are met with the sight of Spencer sitting comfortably on the couch with a book in his hands. You curse inside your head, it's not that you don't want to see him. In fact, you think he looks absolutely adorable in a sweatshirt all curled up in his seat. But you don't want him to see you like this, it's obvious your date didn't go well.

"Hey, you're home early." His voice is laced with fatigue. He leaves the book behind and approaches you, his signature smile in full display.

"Yep." You use all your strength to give him a smile back. You don't want to be unpleasant with him just because of a not so great date. Turning your back to him just as fast to place your shoes on the shoe rack.

"How did it go?" He asks tentatively and you frown at the way he seems nervous to know the answer.

"Uh- not great." You decide to not elaborate it, all you want right now is to bury yourself in your bed covers and cry.

"Oh, i'm sorry." You can't bring yourself to look him in the eye, you really don't want his pity. What you miss is the way a sparkle of what looks like relief flashes across his eyes. Before you can dismiss yourself he adds, "You know, given half a billion potential soulmates, the chances of finding your true love on a blind date are one in ten thousand."

As much as you want to tell him that's not necessarily what you need to hear right now, you don't feel like you have enough strength to do it. You know he's mostly trying to comfort you and he's just really not an expert when it comes to emotions.

"Yeah, i guess so." You answer and it's now his time to frown. You're usually way more excited to hear about his statistics. "I'm just gonna go to my room. Night, Spence." And then you're scrambling to your room, closing the door behind you before he can have a reaction.

Exhaling deeply, you throw your bag somewhere in the room and move to the bathroom. You turn on the shower and quickly discard your clothes to the floor, feeling immediately better when the warm water hits your skin.

Stepping out, you get yourself into some comfy sweats and a large old shirt before rushing through your skincare. Not bothering to dry your hair, you slip under the covers with a content hum. You can't help but imagine how it would be better if Spencer was laying with you, it would be tempting to curl up against his sweatshirt and forget about all of your problems.

Snapping out of your daze, you grab your laptop and settle for a comfort show that you know will help you relax. Your stomach grumbles slightly in hunger and you now realize how you had barely touched your food at dinner. Ignoring it anyway because the chances of you leaving your bed for the rest of the night are very low.

A gentle knock sounds from your door and you grumble, dragging yourself to open it. But as soon as you do, regret fills you for getting annoyed at all. There stands Spencer, wide and concerned eyes staring at you.

Now you take a moment to actually look at him and not just his sweatshirt. His hair is mussed by his position in the couch, his mismatched socks peeking from his sweatpants and his lanky hands hold a bowl of mac and cheese and a can of your favorite soda - like he's read your mind. It just reminds you of a few of the reasons to why you're so head over heels for him. He can read you like a book without having to profile you.

Sometimes you wonder how you're ever even going to get over him. Since becoming his roommate a year ago, this was the first time you had gone out on a date. It's not that you didn't want to go on dates, not being the most outgoing person came with it's liabilities. But you always thought going out with someone would make you forget about Spencer. Turns out it just made you realize how perfect he is compared to any other guy.

"I-I just thought maybe this could cheer you up. I know i wasn't much of a help." He smiles sheepishly, standing awkwardly on his feet. Your heart clenches at remembering how you dismissed him earlier.

"Thank you. You really didn't have to." You smile back kindly, looking at him with nothing but adoration.

He clears his throat nervously, "You know- uh- there's a study that says hugs slow down the heart rate and decreases the level of cortisol, the stress hormone. In turn, it makes people feel relaxed and safe." He stutters along his words.

You can't help but chuckle at his peculiar way of offering a hug. "A hug would be great, Spence." You say as you take the food from his and settle it somewhere on your bed. Returning quickly to stand by him and wrapping your arms around his shoulder with no hesitation.

He visibly relaxes at that, nose burying in your head and breathing in lightly. His sweatshirt really does feel just as soft as it looks. He squeezes you, hard enough to pull a giggle out of you but somehow affectionately.

You find yourself not wanting to pull away, a dramatic pout forming in your mouth when you force yourself to do it.

"You wanna make me company while i eat? We can watch Star Trek." Your fingers move almost involuntarily to untangle his curls as you speak.

He nods eagerly before mumbling, "Yes, but we're watching Friends. Last time i picked so we should watch something you like this time." Before he's walking to your bed, sitting comfortably with the covers to his lap.

You almost blush at the thought of him wanting to watch your favorite sitcom with you.

When you join him in bed, he's already setting up the show on your laptop and your heart almost bursts at how comfortable you feel with it, with him.

You eat your mac and cheese, occasionally offering him a few bites.

You feel a weight on your shoulder and turn to see Spencer with his cheek pressed up against it comfortably. You question if he feels sleepy but his he looks wide awake, gaze fixated on the screen in front of you.

Your thoughts drift again as you look at him. You question if maybe this i all just a silly crush because he's so nice to you. But you really don't think you're supposed to be thinking about a silly crush on a date with another guy.

Or maybe you just need to tell him. Maybe if you confess it to him it'll be easier for you. It wouldn't be a secret anymore and even though he doesn't feel the same, a weight would be lifted off your shoulders. You don't really get to think much about it before the words are spilling out of your mouth.

"Spencer?" You call gently and he answers with a small hum, not moving from his position on your shoulder. "I only went on that date because of you." You admit, heart breaking when you feel him tense up and sit up.

"Why- What do you mean?" His brows furrow in confusion.

"I only went on a date because i thought it would help me get over my feelings for you, turns out i'm way too in love for that. And i'm sorry, i know it's one sided. But can we please keep being friends? I promise i can pretend we didn't have this talk- i just needed to get it off my chest." You feel your eyes grow wet as the words come out, imagining the worse scenarios possible. It's already bad enough to feel like you're never going to experience true love, you don't want to lose your best friend too.

"You think i don't love you?" Spencer seems even more confused now, but he looks at you more gently than ever. His eyes glow with the dim yellow light and you find it hard to concentrate on his words.

"Not the way i do, Spence." You breath out, eyes fully glassy now and you're sure that anything can cause you to fall apart now.

"I leave you coffee and a note every morning, i've read all of your favorite books just so i could learn about your interests, i got an email just so you could send me videos of cats and i don't feel disgusted with the idea of eating your food or giving you hugs - not at all." He pauses before adding, "You think i don't love you?" He asks again, just as gentle as before - if not more. It's more of an affirmation then a question.

"Oh." You can't help but feel like you've been blind for all this time. You were so stuck with thinking that you would never find someone you could comfortably show your love for that you didn't notice he was right there, right under the same roof.

"I'm such an idiot." You chuckle, rubbing the tears off your eyes with the back of your hands.

"You are. But i'm also a complete idiot for never doing anything about it." He grinned sweetly, moving to sit closer and tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Hm, how 'bout i kiss you, you kiss me back, and we call it even?" You play with the long sleeves of his sweatshirt, smile mirroring his.

Spencer's cheeks redden as he pretends to think before he lets out a chuckle of his own, "I'm in."

You have to contain your smile when you lean closer, lips finally touching his after waiting for so long. And now that you get to do it, you don't think you ever want to stop. His hands gently hold your face, thumbs rubbing against your cheeks in the softest way, as if you can break with anything.

It doesn't last as long as you would have wished, both your smiles getting in the way.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

love you,

cat 🤍

#Spotify #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #fluff

1K notes · View notes

prythianpages · 17 days ago

Text

Hopelessly Devoted | Eris x Reader

Eris x Reader x Azriel | You're hopelessly devoted to Azriel, suspecting he’s your true love. Meanwhile, Eris is hopelessly longing after you. aka Eris being your mate but you're too infatuated with Az to notice.

warnings: slight angst, reader being a bit delulu

*also disclaimer that I am no expert in astrology and my knowledge is usually what I gathered from friends or tiktok so if I'm wrong, please correct me but do it nicely pls bc I am sensitive lol*

a/n: I wasn't sure whether to include Az or not in the pairing but I liked the idea of leaving this fic up to your interpretation. Anyway, happy reading! <3

As you entered the Night Court’s observatory, you traced your fingers along the edge of the great celestial map laid before you. You could feel the soft hum of magic beneath your fingertips, still smell the faintest hint of sage–a remnant of your father’s last ritual here. For centuries, your father has served as the Night Court’s astrologer. He’s guided and advised High Lord Rhysand and on occasion, Keir, the steward of the Court of Nightmares.

Above you, constellations and planets danced across the domed ceiling, the stars gleaming as though they were ready to whisper secrets just for you. You took a deep breath, centering yourself, and placed a palm flat against the massive zodiac wheel etched onto the floor. It began to glow, a warm golden light tracing symbols of the zodiacs and planets.

“Stars above and stars below, reveal the path I seek to know,” you quietly murmured.

The markings on the wheel shifted in response, aligning and realigning with clicking sounds, the warm golden light following. Then, your own chart had appeared, shimmering above you. It was a translucent web of stars and planets connected by silvery lines. You’ve read your birth chart many times, become so familiar with it that you knew it by heart even.

But tonight, you needed the extra reassurance. So you looked up, watching as the planets moved slowly. Your heartbeat a little faster as you spotted Jupiter making transit through your seventh house. The promise of growth, abundance, luck and most important of all, love filled the air.

You slipped a small vial from the hidden pocket of your cobalt blue dress. The words Love Potion No.9 gleamed on the glass, the dark red liquid swirling. It was the enchanted perfume you’d bought from a witch last week—a little love potion designed to make you irresistibly alluring to your soulmate.

You felt a bit foolish, seeking a witch for guidance on love of all matters. Witches were frowned upon in the Court of Nightmares, after all. But impatience had finally nudged you to venture beyond the court’s dark mountain and into the surrounding forests, in search of someone who could help.

“Seek the one who walks between light and shadow with a mask of cool indifference, where fire meets the edge of night. There your heart shall find its match,” she had told you as she handed you the enchanted perfume.

Her words had only confirmed what you had been suspecting for years, centuries even.

Azriel was your soulmate.

Azriel, the very embodiment of cool indifference, wore a mask of stoicism in the Court of Nightmares, just as High Lord Rhysand did. But his hazel eyes always seemed to burn with a hidden fire. And when you were alone with him, away from the cold nobility of the Night Court, Azriel would let that mask slip, revealing a kinder side that laughed and smiled with you. He was your friend and not only did he literally walk among shadows, he wielded them. It had to be him!

And then, there was your birth chart. Your seventh house lay in Taurus—a sign ruled by Venus. With Venus positioned in your twelfth house, everything pointed to the idea that your future soulmate would bring your happiness and pleasure. And since you met Azriel all those years ago during a counseling your father led, happiness had been an emotion you'd grown more familiar with.

The stars couldn’t have given you a clearer message!

There was a flutter in your stomach as you approached Azriel. The two of you had been stealing glances at one another, as you usually did anytime you found yourselves in the same place. He looked as beautiful as ever. As dreamy as ever.

Though your High Lord and High Lady had moved to the center of the ballroom for a dance, he had stayed by the dais. “Hello,” you greeted him with a small smile.

Azriel turned to you, that mask of his slipping for just a brief moment to smile back at you. He took the extra wine glass in your hold, murmuring a small thanks. He turned his head back to the dance floor, attentive to his High Lady’s whereabouts. But he shifted closer to you, the coolness of his shadows caressing your bare arm and you couldn’t help but wonder if the perfume was working.

“You look nice,” he commented.

“Thanks.” A blush rose to your cheeks. You’d taken care to match your dress to the exact shade of his siphons. And he noticed. “So do you.”

“I wear this all the time.” Azriel replied drily, referring to his usual Illyrian leathers.

“Yeah, I know.” You cursed yourself inwardly for the awkward response, then shifted closer, leaning toward him. “Do I smell to you?”

Azriel paused, his shadows brushing close, as if curious themselves. “No,” he said after a moment.

“Oh.” Disappointment seeped into your voice despite your best efforts, and his gaze shifted to you, a hint of a frown in his brows.

“Do you want to smell?”

There’s a teasing edge to his tone, a subtle quirk of his lips. You shook your head, letting out a small, nervous laugh. "No. I just wanted to know if I smelled any…different…,” and then, in a much quieter tone, you murmured, “to you.”

Azriel considered your words. He looked to you in what seemed like permission. You gave a nod of your head and he leaned in, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. “You smell the same to me.” At the breath you let out, he quickly added: “which is good by the way. You smell nice.”

“Oh, okay,” you smile, albeit a bit awkwardly, the flutter you had felt in your stomach earlier twisting into a knot.

“Y/n, is everything alright?” Azriel asked softly.

“Yeah, I just thought—” You stopped, not sure how to explain without sounding foolish. It wasn’t like you could admit to feeling disappointed over the lack of reaction from an enchanted perfume you’d spent quite a fortune on. Especially when he was the sole purpose for it. Had the witch scammed you?

Azriel waited for you patiently, concern flashing in his eyes. Maybe the perfume hadn’t worked, but the stars and planets had never led you astray. That still had to mean something, right?

“I’m fine.” You finally said.

“Are you sure?”

The way he was looking at you had warmth creeping up your neck and settling deeper in your cheeks. “Yeah.”

A single shadow curled around Azriel’s ear and in the blink of an eye, his head turned. Your gaze followed his, to where Rhysand and Feyre were standing. Rhysand sent him a slight nod and with a sigh, Azriel returned it.

“Sorry, I have to go.” Azriel said, quickly downing the remaining wine from his glass.

You held out your hand, offering to take it for him.

“Thank you. I’ll be back. Don’t have too much fun without me, alright?”

“I’ll try not to,” you replied.

You watched Azriel disappear into his shadows before turning away from the dais and making your way to the refreshments table. You were eager for a refill on your glass. Perhaps a little more wine would help ease the sting of disappointment. But he’d said he’d be back, hadn’t he?

As you scanned the room, you noticed your father in conversation with one of Keir’s sons and your mother eyeing potential suitors for your older brother. As an elite warrior of the Darkbringers, he had no shortage of admirers, and it was only a matter of time before your mother secured him a match—perfect or not.

You suspected you’d be next on her matchmaking list, so you busied yourself with small talk among familiar ladies. Conversations were always a mind-numbing, the ladies your age exchanging beauty tips that centered around the male’s eye or fawning over this season’s most eligible males. Which this season just so happens to be your brother. Gross. If only they knew him the way you did….

Second to him was Bret—or some equally uninspiring name. A Scorpio, of all things, which clashed miserably with your chart. Not that it mattered. You had no interest in any noble of the Court of Nightmares. Or any male here. Most, if not all, were cruel and narcissists, only viewing females as child bearers and nothing more.

There was a reason why this court was burdened with the title “Nightmares.” And to marry someone from here would mean never waking up from this darkness. No stars to light your night skies, only endless shadow and despair.

So, you’d taken fate into your own hands. You’d turned to your birth chart, hoping the stars would lead you somewhere beyond Hewn City, beyond this never-ending nightmare. And they had. They led you to believe it was Azriel. Azriel, who was not only honorable and single but also, technically, part of the Court of Dreams. He’d been your friend for centuries, seeing you for who you are rather than an object or prize like most males here.

As you sneak away from the conversation, you bump into something–someone. Behind you, a deep voice huffed a low, mocking chuckle. “Easy there, librarian.”

You could recognize that voice anywhere, could recognize the heat radiating from him. It pressed down on you, leaving you simmering with irritation.

“I’m a libra, not a librarian.” You bit out. It hasn’t even been a minute and already you were exhausted by the searing presence behind you. “And besides, to you, it’s Lady Y/N.”

When you turned, you found Eris looming over you. His amber eyes gleamed with a familiar, infuriating mischief. He gave you that signature smirk of his, the one that made his sharp features all the more arrogant. “Such a harsh tone. Hardly fitting for a Lady.”

Your gaze hardened into a glare, only to have it stray toward a movement across the ballroom. A flicker of shadow caught your attention, and your heart gave a small, hopeful jump as your gaze softened. There he was—Azriel.

He had returned to the ballroom…but he hadn’t returned to you…

Eris raised a glass to his lips, amber eyes flicking lazily between you and Azriel. “Disappointment doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m not disappointed.” You muttered hastily.

He gave a scoff, his smirk widening with dark amusement. “Please. I can practically feel it.”

“Liar,” you shot back.

“Azriel said he’d find me again and unlike you, he’s a male of his word,” you continued, not sure why you were telling Eris this. “He’s…”

Your words trailed off as you watched Azriel, who stood next to Nesta and Elain. He laughed–actually laughed!-- at something Elain had said, shadows absent from his frame as his focus remained solely on her. You couldn’t miss the soft smile playing on his lips, nor the warmth in his gaze. Did he do that with every female he knew? You thought he reserved that just for you…

The bubble in your chest slowly deflated.

“Keep dreaming,” Eris huffed out. He seemed to take special pleasure in your reaction. It prompted your cheeks to flush but this time, with irritation.

“Oh, go away, you prick,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You don’t understand.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?" he replied, leaning closer, his sharp gaze burning into you. You missed the flash of longing in his amber eyes, too focused on Azriel. Or the way the words that had been on the tip of his tongue faltered as your scent suddenly overwhelmed him, his breath hitching slightly.

"You smell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you mumbled absently.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, his voice gruff and pupils flaring. “You smell different tonight…good...”

You blinked, barely processing his words. Was he actually being nice to you? In all the years you’ve known him, he’s always had snark remark after snark remark for you. The way it would roll smoothly off his tongue always left you wondering if he’d rehearse them for his visits to the Court of Nightmares.

You fidgeted, fingers grazing your wine glass as you cast a hesitant glance back at Azriel. Your chest tightened as he remained engrossed in conversation with Elain. Turn around, please. But he hadn’t even looked your way once.

Eris stepped in front of you, drawing your attention back to him. His gaze roamed over you, your dress. He took in the shade and he knew why you had chosen it–and for whom. "You know," he said, his gaze lingering on your face. "Red suits you far better.”

“And there he is, you’re back…”

"I’m serious. This—" He gestured to your gown with a slight grimace, his fingers brushing the silk fabric in disappointment. "This color washes you out. Red would bring out the color of your eyes…”

Your jaw clenched but you remained silent, refusing to admit that his words stirred something within you. Eris was insufferable, arrogant, and yet you couldn't deny his eye for detail. He, after all, was always dressed impeccably in the finest Autumn attire. But you would never give him the satisfaction of admitting he might be right.

His smirk widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Do you want to know another thing?”

“No,” you said immediately.

But he leaned in anyway, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re hopelessly devoted to a male who doesn’t even look your way.”

Your mouth opened, brows furrowing in protest, but he went on. His smirk softened, fading into a half-smile. One that didn’t reach his eyes, dimming the fire that usually burned so brightly there. And then, in a much quieter, reluctant tone, he murmured, “And I am no different, it seems.”

"But…" You stammered, resisting the urge to steal another glance at Azriel. "He does look my way…sometimes.”

Eris’s smile faded, his expression tightening. A flicker of pain crossed his face. So brief, you almost thought you imagined it. "You’re delusional.”

“And you’re insufferable.” You scoffed, heart pounding.

“Better than being a fool.”

The mocking tone was there but the usual sharpness had been softened by a strange, subtle sadness. Was this… pity?

You swallowed, lifting your chin defiantly. “The stars wouldn’t lie to me,” you said, though the conviction in your voice wavered. “He’s the one for me.”`

You met his eyes then and Eris held your gaze. His amber eyes warm and molten, the intensity of his stare prickling at your skin. An unsettling flutter erupted in your stomach, rising to your chest. A feeling you quickly dismissed when you felt something cool brush against your arm.

“Is he bothering you, y/n?”

Eris scoffed at the sudden presence beside you. It sickened him to see that sweet, adoring look on your face, the triumphant gleam in your eyes as you looked up at Azriel. The sight made Eris grit his teeth. His instincts roared at him, the fire in his veins was scorching.

You blinked, snapping out of your daze, realizing both males were waiting for your answer. “No,” you said but the way you shifted to stand behind Azriel said otherwise.

Azriel’s gaze hardened as he looked toward Eris. “Stay away from her,” he seethed.

A low growl rumbled from Eris’s chest as he took a step forward, his amber eyes flaring with rage. Though not as tall as Azriel, he seemed to tower over him at this moment. His teeth flashed as his lips curled into a snarl. “I do not take orders from bastards like you.”

Azriel’s wings tensed, threatening to unfurl and the movement of his shadows quickened. Like a storm ready to unfold. But before it could, you placed a hand on his arm. Right over one of his glowing siphons that seemed to be growing hotter and hotter, daring to match the fire coursing through Eris’s veins.

“Az, don’t,” you told him gently, not wanting to draw any attention to the three of you. You felt his muscles ease under your touch, his shadows brushing over your hand in agreement.

Eris’s gaze dropped to your hand on Azriel’s arm, his expression darkening into something unreadable. He exhaled sharply, turning his head as though trying to shake off whatever thought had crossed his mind.

When he looked back, his features had shifted into his usual cool mask, that infuriating smirk sliding back into place. He looked right at you.

“When you wake up from this deranged dream of yours, come find me.”

You watched him, feeling a strange, unwelcome tug in your chest as he turned to leave. Perhaps, one day you’d realize that the enchanted perfume you had bought was not a scam.

And that the male you searched through the stars and planets for was not the one standing beside you, but the one who’d just walked away.

a/n: sorry if you're not a libra, I just thought it'd be funny for Eris to purposely say reader's sign wrong as he knows astrology is a huge influence on her.

[series masterlist]

[Eris masterlist]

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits15, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

#eris x reader #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar fanfiction

679 notes · View notes

mjtwinflamesoul · 2 years ago

Text

Golden Deja from the Gold Flame Coven - Twin Flame & Soulmates Support & Readings

Her first professional spiritual counseling she started doing for other people at age 14, always having an above average clear eye for energy details and love situations. The way I got to know Deja, she was also there for me a few times, when I needed adv

Dear Readers In this special Sunday introduction article, I would like to present to you my spiritual daughter and close friend, Deja, from the Gold Flame Coven. She is a child prodigy, who has spiritual skills since childhood and youth, where she already begun training her special third eye and crown chakra (Gold Flame, therefore the name) and helped quite a few love troubled folks in her life…

View On WordPress

#Child Spiritual Prodigy Deja supports you and your Twin Flame Love #Gold Flame Work for Twin Flames by Deja Gold Flame Coven #Golden Deja - Twin Flame Energy Worker #Golden Deja from the Gold Flame Coven - Twin Flame & Soulmates Support & Readings #Susan Elsa recommends Gold Flame Coven Medium Deja Ray #Teenager Spiritual Counselor and Psychic Medium Expert #Twin Flame & Soulmates Support & Readings

0 notes

psychicleaders · 2 years ago

Text

Soulmate Check Online Services at Affordable Prices in USA

If you want to know your compatibility with someone, then look no further than our Soulmate Checker. If you are feeling that you are in a bind, then we at Soulmate Check online can help you by offering solutions to all the problems facing you.

For more information, visit https://www.psychicleaders.com/live-expert/Soulmate-Check or call us at +1646 3966630.

#Live Soulmate Check Expert #Soulmate Check Professional #Soulmate Check Online

0 notes

unearthly-doting · 8 months ago

Text

finding their soulmate: genshin edition.

a/n: i haven't made a post here in a hot second and i honestly apologize about that lol. the motivation to write just hasn't been there but!! here's a small lil genshin post for now. i just spun a wheel to pick who i write but if u want me to write for some of the others then just lmk!!

includes: xiao, kaeya, kujou sara, albedo, tartaglia, and ayato.

warnings: mdni, yandere content, not edited, gn reader, kidnapping, forced relationships, arranged marriage, manipulation, reader injury in both kujou sara's, albedo's and tartaglia's parts, childe stabs you :peace sign:, canon is a very vague concept in my writing more often than not btw, this is kinda cringey </3, the yandere content in albedo's part is actually very mild bc i was restraining myself bc there was a lot i wanted to do w it.

XIAO — never really cared much about finding his soulmate. His entire existence was dedicated to protecting Liyue, even if the nation no longer needed his protection. Besides, with how long he's been around, he just assumed his soulmate was long dead and that he'd never meet them. Though, a small part of him wondered... what was his soulmate like?

And, almost as if the universe had been listening, he ends up meeting you. His soulmate. It wasn't a classic, romantic meeting. He didn't save your life or anything like that. You were just a traveler who decided to stay at the inn.

He didn't think much of you until his eyes met yours and suddenly color was flooding into his world. It made him dizzy, and it stunned him into absolute silence because all he could so was stare at you with wide eyes.

You were clearly going through it as well, because obviously. You just met your fucking soulmate on a damn business trip. What the hell were you supposed to do now? It would be awkward to just... ignore what had happened, right? I mean, he's staring right at you and this was all just very overwhelming.

It was an awkward first meeting, that's for sure.

But during your time at the inn, whenever you were free from work, you spent it with Xiao. He was closed off, clearly keeping his guard up and not letting you get too close. You didn't know the reasons, but you didn't expect him to tell you his entire life story just because you two were apparently bound by the universe.

Honestly, you just assumed he didn't want to be with his soulmate. This didn't upset you. It wouldn't work out, anyway. You're only staying for a few weeks before heading home.

But archons, did Xiao want you. Behind his typical, distant behavior, Xiao was taking note of everything about you. Your interests, your habits, your sleep schedule, your favorite foods and desserts... everything you told him or subconsciously revealed, Xiao was tucking it away in his mind.

He wanted you. He wanted you to stay here, in Liyue, with him. Where you belong. But he didn't know how to express that. He's never been in love before, and it's not like he'll just suddenly become an expert at romance after meeting you.

When it was time for you to leave, he was crushed. He needed you to stay. He needed you by his side. Letters wouldn't be enough to fill the emptiness in your wake if you left. You had to stay.

You will stay.

And when you wake up to find yourself no longer in the inn, and instead in some small home deep within the mountains of Liyue, you're distraught.

Xiao looks genuinely guilty, robbing you of your freedom but... you understand, don't you? You have to understand. He just couldn't let you go. You're his soulmate, you were destined to be with him! You'll love it here, he'll make sure of it.

Just stay.

KAEYA — had always wondered what his soulmate was like ever since he was a child. He would spend hours just staring at the small crescent moon forever stained on his wrist, wondering if and when he'll meet the person with a matching mark.

Of course, as he got older he spent less time thinking about such things, though he did always hold out hope that he might be able to one day meet his soulmate. Little did he know, he's met his soulmate already. Multiple times.

You took over Sara's shifts at the Good Hunter whenever she had other things she needed to focus on, so Kaeya has spoken with you on numerous occasions, he's just never realized you were his soulmate because you keep your wrists covered. He's not one to judge, his wrists aren't visible either.

Him finding out was an accident. You had been handing him his order when your sleeves rolled up a bit, and his gaze just so happened to look at your wrists and he saw the very same crescent moon that was on his.

And for a moment, he froze. He just stared. Long enough that you were starting to feel a little uncomfortable. But before you could awkwardly send him on his way, he was showing you the crescent moon on his wrist as well and thus began your love story.

Or... well... it's what Kaeya had hoped for, but you didn't seem interested in soulmates at all. You didn't want the universe to decide who you were meant to be with, you wanted to make that decision yourself, so you had, to put it simply, bluntly rejected him.

And he gets it! It hurts, sure. He spent his entire life dreaming of this day, and it's not turning out the way he had hoped, but... you guys can be friends, at least, right? No strings attached?

For a while, Kaeya was fine with that. You and he had a really strong friendship. He cared about you, and you cared about him. Though your feelings were platonic, he was holding on to the hope that maybe one day, you'll realize you two were meant to be together.

But it was starting to seem as though that day might never come, because almost a year into your friendship with him, you had told Kaeya that you were thinking about entering the dating scene. He was... not too pleased about that, honestly. It was pretty obvious too, the way his entire mood soured the moment you brought the topic up.

He didn't stand by idly while this happened. Any person he saw you chatting up with romantic intentions would suddenly avoid you like the plague the next time you saw them. Any blind dates would end with you being ghosted. Hell, even some of your friends, the ones who were helping you get dates, were starting to avoid you too. It was so confusing.

But not Kaeya. No, Kaeya was always by your side.

Whenever you needed him, he was there. He always seemed to be able to make time for you. He listened to you vent your frustrations out, never once judging you or telling you that you were being dramatic. He was the only constant in your life these days.

Of course, you were completely oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of all of this. It's not that hard to blackmail people, he's learned. But they didn't deserve you anyway, seeing how easily they gave up on you the moment he approached them.

Maybe... maybe dating Kaeya wouldn't be so bad... I mean, you're the one deciding this, right? The universe isn't having any play in it. This is your decision. Isn't it?

KUJOU SARA — never cared about her soulmate. She knew she had one, you were in every dream she had. She found it to be more of a nuisance than anything else.

Her entire life was dedicated to her training, and to the Raiden Shogun. She neither had the time, nor the interest in searching for her soulmate. Besides, it didn't seem as if you resided in Inazuma. Your clothing was similar what people in Fontaine wear, and Fontaine was far away from Inazuma.

She was confident that she wouldn't be meeting you any time soon, so she never gave you any thought when she was awake. She never made any plans on what she would do if she did, by any chance, meet you. It didn't matter.

And she can't help but regret that, now that you're standing in front of her. If she had known that meeting her soulmate would make her feel like this, as if everything in the world suddenly made sense, then... well... she doesn't know what she would've done, to be honest.

No matter, Sara had no time to entertain you. Your stay in Inazuma was only temporary, so she saw no point in trying to form a bond with you. You, however, seemed to have different plans. She was used to seeing you in her dreams every night, but she was not used to seeing you in her waking moments.

Whenever she wasn't preoccupied with something, you were there to offer her company. It was annoying, and she's sent you away more than once, but that didn't seem to deter you. If anything, you seemed to become more determined each time she brushed you off.

At some point, she had given up on avoiding you. It was easier to just let you stick around. And, the more time she spent with you, the more attached she was becoming. It wasn't smart, she knew that, but could you blame her? You're so... irrevocably you.

Her fondness for you didn't go unnoticed.

Many people in Inazuma treated you with the same respect they treated Sara. You were her soulmate, after all. Should someone insult you, they would in turn be insulting her. Nobody wanted to get on her bad side.

There were, however, a few bad apples.

It should come as no surprise that a target was placed on your back the moment people took notice of Sara's attachment to you. She didn't think she'd have to worry much, because no one would be idiotic enough to actually try and harm you under her watch, but she should've known better.

It happened a few days before you were set to leave Inazuma to return home. A disturbance was going on within the city so Sara wasn't with you when you went on your daily walk just outside of it. It was supposed to be safe, but it wasn't.

Some vagrants had got the jump on you, and you nearly lost your life. You were lucky enough to have been found by some bystanders, but Sara was less than pleased when she heard about this. She had never taken pleasure in killing anyone before, but there was a deep-rooted sense of satisfaction deep within her chest when she watched the lives of those who hurt you fade away.

And as she sat by your side, waiting for you to wake up, she came to a decision. You can't be alone. If you are, you'll get hurt, and she won't be able to protect you. She can't let you leave Inazuma. She knows you'll more than likely hate her for making this decision for you, but if it means she can keep you safe, keep you alive and by her side, then... that hatred is something she'll be willing to bear.

ALBEDO — doesn't have a soulmate. At least, he's not supposed to. He's an artificial being, so it wouldn't make sense for him to have a soulmate. Of course, he does find the concept of soulmates to be intriguing. Who, or what, decides who people are destined to be with? It's a question he hopes to find an answer to.

So he wasn't surprised when he found you passed out in the snow, deep within Dragonspine. He's seen this countless times before, travelers who don't take precautions before trying to brave the deadly cold that comes with being here. He assumed he would just nurse you back to health and you would go on your merry way.

That changed, however, when he was cleaning your wounds and he saw his name inked on your skin, right on your collarbone. In his handwriting, at that. It confused him, because... that would mean that he's your soulmate. But he can't be. And yet, it didn't come off when he tried wiping it off. It was a part of your skin.

This left him with many questions, though none of them got answered when you woke up. You couldn't remember much about yourself, other than your name and a few other details. You didn't even know why you were in Dragonspine, or where you were from. You did hit your head pretty badly, judging from the headwound, so that would explain the amnesia, though he's not sure if it was going to be something temporary or not.

You both decided it would be best to just have you stay here until you were able to recover some of your memories and although Albedo wasn't eager to make friends with you, he was grateful for the company. He was incredibly patient with you too, answering any questions you may have had ranging from a multitude of different topics.

And in return, you helped out as much as you could without overexerting yourself and making your injuries worse. You'd make sure to keep his little lab tidy when he was away. You'd help out with some of his experiments too, if he knew you wouldn't get hurt doing so.

All while trying to figure out how he could possibly be your soulmate. He checked over himself. Four times. Your name was nowhere on his body. So why? Why was his name on yours? As much as he hates to admit it, he thinks he may never get an answer to this mystery.

Though... that's not such a bad thing, he thinks. He finds himself enjoying your company more and more with each passing day, the whole soulmate thing rarely even crossed his mind. At least, until you had asked him why his name was permanently etched into your skin. It was fairly easy to explain everything to you, though he was unable to answer a few of your questions, sadly. Soulmates were still a mystery, after all.

And when you asked if you could write your name on him so you two could match, he found himself unable to say no. He found himself unable to speak at all, actually, as you wrote your name on his shoulder. You even added a little heart next to it.

But no, Albedo was too busy coming to terms with the feelings he has for you. They weren't new. He's been aware of them for a week or so now, he just never gave it much thought until now. Now, with you so close to him, it was simply impossible to ignore.

And once you pull away, you smile at him and say, "There! Now I'm your soulmate too, right?" And oh.

Oh.

There was no way Albedo was going to let you leave Dragonspine now.

TARTAGLIA — feels a little bad for his soulmate, whoever they are. They can feel his pain, and he can feel theirs. So... they probably hate his guts, considering he's not the most careful person in the world. He pushes himself to his limits and beyond, and his soulmate has no doubt felt every single second of it.

Don't get him wrong, he would love to meet his soulmate. It's been a dream of his since he was a child, always eager to hear the story of how his mom and dad found out they were soulmates. Even as he grew older, the desire never went away. It was just... buried.

And his soulmate just so happened to be you, the significant other of a man who owed the Northland Bank a lot of money. He doesn't normally partake in debt collections, but he didn't have anything better to do so he decided to take this one on. He was going to use you as an example to your husband, though the moment his blade stabbed you, he froze.

He felt the pain. He stabbed you, and he could feel it. Oh fuck, he just stabbed his soulmate. That's definitely not the picturesque first meeting he was hoping for. Probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell his family this either...

Stabbing aside, he was utterly delighted. You, on the other hand, were terrified. Not only did this man just fucking stab you, his expression went from bored to something akin to crazed glee. He stared at you with a hunger that made you want to shy away from his gaze.

He doesn't care that you're already in a relationship with someone else. Not anymore, you're not. You're his, destined by the stars or however the story goes. And if your lover tries to get you back, he'll just kill them. Easy as that. Absolutely nothing will get in the way of him having you.

And he likes that you fight back against him. He especially loves it when you manage to escape. Hell, sometimes he'll even let you go just so he can chase you down again. It sends a thrill through him like no other when he catches you, and you stare at him teary-eyed and out of breath.

You're always so scared that he'll hurt you, but he would never do such a thing. He treats you like you're royalty, spoiling you with a seemingly endless amount of gifts. You're not quite sure how he knows what you like, and you're too hesitant to ask.

Honestly... he'd probably let you stab him. Y'know, he stabbed you, so it's only fair that you get to stab him in turn, right?

You think not. You're very hesitant, staring at him as though he were insane for even proposing such an idea. A part of him was disappointed. He wanted one of the many scars on his body to be from you. But a much larger part can't help but go soft at the sight of you shaking your head, sternly refusing to hurt him.

If he wasn't obsessed with you before, he certainly was now. You're too good. Too kind. He's holding you captive (lovingly, of course) and you refuse to hurt him? You don't even want to pinch him? How adorable.

Why, if he didn't know any better, he'd think that you might care about him.

He was nothing if not stubborn, of course. You might not care about him now, but you will in the future. He'll make sure of it.

After all, he's spent his whole life waiting for you.

AYATO — never had the time to think of his soulmate. He was blessed (or cursed, depending on who you ask) with the ability to see the red strings that tied people together. When he was younger, before having to take on the duties of the Kamisato name, he would always stare at the one tied to his pinkie.

He even has the habit of twirling the red string around his finger whenever he gets stressed. Only behind closed doors, of course. It would probably appear strange to others if they saw.

Meeting his soulmate was something he had always planned out in his head as a child, and when he finally did meet you, it was so... simple. There was nothing magical about it, you had just bumped into him one day when he was out in the city and that's what started all of this.

For you, it was a forgettable encounter, one that would never cross your mind again. For him, it was everything he had been waiting for. Thoma thought it was a bit strange, but he dutifully gathered information about you when Ayato asked it of him. He needed to know everything there was to know about you.

He already knew what he was going to do when he met his soulmate, the only thing left was to actually do it. And you were definitely shocked when Kamisato Ayato himself showed up at your home and asked you to marry him.

You said no, obviously, because why the hell would you agree to marry someone you didn't know? Ayato had planned for this, of course. That's why he had Thoma learn everything about you, so the moment you declined his offer, he just smiled and made a comment about your family. It was very obvious what he was implying.

And even if you aren't close with your family, you can't live with blood on your hands. You were pretty much forced into accepting Ayato's marriage proposal. He was pleased with this outcome, promising to take care of everything himself.

Marrying him meant that you would, unfortunately, have to leave your home and instead live at the Kamisato Estate. Everyone was under the impression that this marriage was one of love and not coercion. You highly doubt that anyone would believe you if you told them the truth, and you were too concerned about what the consequences would be if you did.

Everyone at the estate was nice to you, at least, though the only people allowed to actually get close to you were Ayaka and Thoma.

And when the wedding was over, it was time for your honeymoon. You were not excited about that, but it seemed Celestia itself was on your side during that time because he was too busy to spend time with you.

If he wasn't threatening the lives of your family, you would have made numerous escape attempts by now. Still, you've made it very clear that you hate his guts.

Your hatred is something he detests, though he can't fault you for it. He understands that what he's forced you into is wrong, but in his mind, it was something that had to be done. He's sure that given enough time and space, you'll grow to understand why he did what he did.

And even though you scorn his existence, Ayato looks at you as if you've placed the stars in the sky.

Your strings are forever tied together, so there's no getting out of this. He doesn't plan on ever letting you go. He'd be a terrible husband if he didn't keep you close, wouldn't he?

1K notes · View notes

bunnygirllover45 · 29 days ago

Text

— FLESH DIVINE.

♱ TRIGGER WARNINGS: Johann purposely weakens reader's body on this one, manipulation, Johann and the reader have an established friendship, reader has a crush on Johann?, suggestive kiss at the end ig. word count: almost 2k.

Johann was always meticulous, almost maniacally so. Maybe that was why he never got along with other people—he always had a way of pushing people away with his complicated nature. Always controlling, observing, and criticizing, a guy like him was hard to deal with, and you knew that very well.

Even though you managed to get through almost five years of friendship —a very rocky one at that— it still amazed you how someone who could seem so utterly unapproachable stuck by your side. Have you needed a shoulder to cry? Johann was there. Need a hand with your work? Johann is an expert on this, somehow. Need someone to remind you when to take your meds? Oh, he had the days marked down in his calendar already. No way he could forget such important details, he was a meticulous man after all, remember?

Not that you weren’t reliable either, during his first breakup you were there. The memory was still fresh in your mind as you recall how utterly bored he looked as he told you about that girl you thought was his soulmate. Couldn’t help but wonder if he truly cared about any of the relationships he had before, or even if he cared about the ones he has now, but you held back from asking at the time. Johann really cares about you, if he didn’t then he wouldn’t go and take such measures to ensure you’re doing alright, or checking up on you, right?—the little bug gnawing at the back of your mind didn’t think the same.

He cares about you, he really does, right? Even when you’re this weak and unable to do anything for yourself, he doesn’t think you’re an annoyance.

“You’re spacing out again.” Johann’s deep voice pushed those thoughts away in a split second, the man stared at you, leaning in to tap with one finger against your forehead in a playful gesture that was a little strange taking into account he looked as expressionless as always. “You’re thinkin’ too much, gonna fry your brain into jelly if you keep doin’ that.” A small smile rose on the corners of his lips, black eyes staring at you with a little glint on them you couldn’t quite decipher. “I like you better when you don’t think.” The words made you shiver a little, ‘I like you— ’ and the rest was a blur inside your head. A part of you wished he genuinely meant that in another way, he liked you truly, entirely, not just a small part of you. “What’s that even supposed to mean?” You laughed a little, forcing a smile.”Last time you told me you ‘liked me better when I was sick’ should I be worried?”

Johann’s eyes scanned your face for a second before he went back to pay attention to the stove; he was boiling some water to make you tea, Johann always made you some when he came home, you didn’t know why, he wasn’t even a fan of tea, but the gesture was sweet enough to make you forget how utterly weird it was the fact he only made one cup.

“Worried ‘bout what? I just said I like you when you’re sick because you’re more obedient. That’s it.” He turned to grab some cups from the cupboard as he spoke. “You’re less prone to pull out some bullshit and get hurt.”

Your face twisted a little into disappointment, oh, so he meant that. With a deep sigh, you tapped your fingers against the table, head resting against the heel of your hand. His words really weren’t laced with any malice, he spoke with his usual soft and calm tone, so you knew he wasn’t jabbing at you or even really blaming you for anything, but it still hurt a little. Noticing your expression Johann quickly approached, leaning over the counter to pat your head, his hand lingering on top as he scratched a little, like you would do with a dog. “Hey, sorry, was I too harsh? Y’know I don’t mean it for real.” “I know, I do. But it just feels bad… I’m always depending on you and I— I’m starting to feel that I’m just a burden, you know.” Johann lifted his hand, the sudden movement making you stare back at him. Eyes widen a little as you notice how his hand is still hovering on top of your head, it was like his brain stopped midway, his black eyes pierced through you. “You’re not a burden. Not for me.” Your head fell downwards as you managed to speak again, fingers fidgeting against the edges of your clothes, Johann’s stare was like a nail digging onto your skin, it felt so fucking unyielding you just wanted to pull back, to get away from his eyes. Why is he even staring at you so intensely? You didn’t say anything that bad.

“Yet I’m still calling you each time I can’t get out of bed in the morning. I really don’t fucking know why my body is like this, I-I’ve been healthy all my life, and then all of the sudden—”

His hand shooted to grab at the sides of your face and tilt it upwards to stare back at him, his fingers weren’t harsh on your skin but you could still feel the lingering threat of his nails about to dig, veins around his forearms bulging with barely restrained rage, yet his face remained so calm. “You’re thinkin’ too much again.” He continued. “Will you just let me take of you? I don’t care if I need to get up the bad at fucking three in the morning to help you go to the bathroom, I will.”

Your hand reached to grab his, trying to peel it away from your face, but Johann’s doesn’t even budge. “You’re not my family to have me as your responsibility, I’m really thankful, trust me, I am. But you’re my friend, and it’s not your job to take care of me when you’re always busy with college and—.” “I’ll quit college for you then.” What the fuck. Your eyes widen at his words, but he doesn’t look any less cold than a few seconds ago. “W-What…?” “You’re worried I’m wasting my time? I might be. I’m wasting my time by being away when I could be here with you.”

You should be happy, really, he’s telling you something so sickly sweet yet the way his eyes never waver away from yours, the way he holds your face like he’s about to break you and yet still remains so gentle, the way he’s speaking so carefree about something that important— yes, you really can’t be happy. “What are you talking about? I don’t want you to do that. Hell, you worked so hard for this career!” “I worked hard for this, for us. My career? It’s just a fucking side hobby at this point when I want to distract my head for a little while.”

You didn’t even notice when he walked around the kitchen counter, now he stood there before you, crouched down to meet your eyes. His thumbs caressed your cheeks with a tenderness you never imagined a guy like Johann could have, the feeling helping your already confused and dizzy head become even dizzier. “You know. For the only thing my studies have helped me is to know where to start.”

“Start—what?”

A dark chuckle escaped his lips, it was rare to hear him laugh and it was even weirder to see him with such a delighted smile, if you squinted you could even see a small blush forming on his cheeks. His fingers kept caressing your face as he kept your head still, unable to make any movements, forcing you to stare. “Oh, don’t play coy. You said it yourself, your body was never like this, right?” “Feeling sick all of the sudden, being unable to walk sometimes due to your debilitating state, damn, sometimes when I look at you I wonder if you can even breathe for yourself. I would love to help if that isn’t the case.”

Cold sweat began to form on the palms of the hands you clutched so tightly against his wrists, nails digging past the bandages and reaching to his skin, Johann didn’t even react to the stinging sensation, too lost on the heady feeling of excitement coursing through his veins. Leaning forward he pressed his body against yours, caging you against the chair. “That was me. All me. I even made sure you didn’t do any kind of physical activity to be extra sure you wouldn’t be able to handle it by yourself.” Bile rose inside your throat, what kind of fucked up person could say such things with that gleeful glint in their eyes? Was this the same Johann you knew all your life? Something felt so wrong, something with him was off this time, the hints were there but you were too blind to see.“And eventually like a flower, you bloomed into something beautiful and mine. Scheiße.”Your hands fell helplessly by your sides, you couldn’t even speak anymore, words long gone together with all the thoughts inside your head, the confusion and fear took a toll on you, and your weakened state made you unable to struggle, even if you wished to do so, your brain screaming to fucking kick him and run away. “You look pale, baby. Is your blood sugar running low? Here, let me help you.” Peeling his body away from just a second but not giving you enough room to even stand up Johann reached for something on the counter, you could some kind of paper being ripped, probably with his teeth or the free hand he didn’t hold against your shoulder, and then he went back to look at you again. “Here, say ‘aah’.”

As you didn’t even make the attempt to move Johann frowned slightly. “Y’know I don’t want to be forceful with you, sometimes I’m afraid you might break if I do too much. But you don’t leave any other options, do you?”

Next thing you know, Johann’s lips are against yours, tongue sliding with ease against yours, you could even feel his tongue piercing scraping against the roof of your mouth, he lets out a low amused sound like he was approving the taste of your lips. Being suddenly snapped out of your daze your hands reach to clutch against his shirt, clinging onto dear life as he devours you with eagerness. The kiss is unusually sweet, and you notice the small wrapper of the sugar you use for the tea empty on top of the counter. You close your eyes, embarrassed at how utterly disgusted you felt, not because of the sensations or the fact he was kissing you, but at how much you enjoyed it.

Once the two of you separated, you let out a breathy sigh of relief, and Johann wipes away your lips with his thumb, then his with the back of his hand. “There, much better now, right?”

You were right, Johann was truly a meticulous person.

#eng sucks please ignore that #also the ending is VERY rushed lol #anyways #yandere #yandere oc #male yandere #yandere x reader #original character #johann the bastard #chrona... writes stuff?

650 notes · View notes