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restlessmaknae · 2 days ago

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fire prince // sungho

One stormy night, a royal entourage arrives at the Phoenix Inn you've been running ever since your father left. Turns out Prince Sungho is as humble as one can be, and you quickly fall for him, but his visits afterwards hint that he might feel the same way.

➳ Characters: prince!Sungho x innkeeper!female reader/you

➳ Genre: magical kingdom au, royal male lead x commoner female lead, elemental powers au, fluff, comedy, one angst scene but it's a happy ending!

➳ Words: 8.9k

➳ Warning: one small mention of past wars, reader's father drank a lot in the past and eventually left, metaphorical cut and bleeding

➳ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️ Merry Christmas, dear! Wishing you all the best for 2025! I'll always be there for you, you know that. Love ya! ❤️❤️❤️

➳ Author's note: This is a spin-off to my Leehan story 'water prince', but they can be read separately.

➳ Header taken from this Weverse picture

It was a quiet, chilly day at the inn until the wind outside picked up its pace, and soon enough, a heavy storm followed. The rain was knocking on the tightly closed windows fervently, erratically, it even attacked the rooftop, so much that you felt like it was pouring straight onto the building. Sometimes the wind also made screeching noises, and the creaking of the wooden floors seemed even more ominous than usually. When the thunder struck, it felt like it was ripping off the horizon, so loud they could be heard.

You closed the kitchen already, so the staff could go home before the storm made it impossible for them to walk even just a couple of miles. Some of the staff insisted on staying though - like Intak, the stableboy, who said that it was more important to take care of the horses than himself because he was a big boy, he wasn’t afraid of storms anymore, but the horses were. Chanyoung, the porter, also stayed even though you told him that it was unlikely you would have many guests for the night because of the weather.

Even your dearest friend, Haewon – who was working with you, helping to share the burden as the innkeeper after your father had left – insisted on staying. Or more like, chattering your ears off for the rest of the night.

“Worst case scenario, we will have the most boring night in the history of the Phoenix Inn, and we will have a good laugh about it one day. Best scenario would be, of course, to have a mysterious, handsome young man walk into the inn, and fall in love with me,” she reasoned very seriously, and you had to give it to her that she had a very wild imagination.

“Because mysterious, handsome young men just fall from the trees around here, right?” You retorted after you put some more wood onto the fireplace, so that it wouldn’t die out. Not only was its light important for such a stormy, dark night, but it would hopefully provide enough warmth, so you wouldn’t need to walk around in your thickest coat.

“I’m just saying, anything can happen these days. You know, even that woman at the market who–”

Haewon was cut off by rhythmic knocking on the door. You exchanged a glance with her before you averted your eyes to Chanyoung who stood by the door. Beside him, Mr Kim – the usual night porter – looked out of the window, but due to the constantly falling rain, he could only see the shadows of four figures. Nevertheless, he was brave enough to open the door for the intruders, and all eyes in the hall went to the four strangers.

First, one muscular man dressed like a soldier came to the front, followed by one dressed in a thick coat, his face almost entirely covered by its hood. Then, they parted to make way for the third one who was dressed in burgundy-black with dark cotton pants and a pearl-dotted coat, even his dress shoes seemed polished. Even though the latter had an umbrella, a few raindrops sat atop of his locks, and he might have been the most beautiful man you had laid your eyes on.

The coated figure got rid of his hood, then cleared his throat before announcing:

“His Royal Highness, Prince Sungho of the Fire Kingdom, wishes to inquire if there is any vacant room for four people for the night.”

The room completely froze for a few seconds before everyone dropped into a clumsy courtesy. Or well, some form of it because you weren’t used to seeing royalty anywhere around here, much less at the Inn. You could see Haewon’s impressed face and mischievous glint, but you could also see Chanyoung’s perplexed reaction, and you had a feeling that yours mirrored the boy’s.

Most people around here had never seen the royal family. You were working tirelessly just to put food on the table, and you didn’t go to the palace’s events when common people were invited, simply because you lived far from the palace. Your Inn was actually closer to the Water Kingdom than the capital of the Fire Kingdom. So seeing the prince and his entourage at your humble little accommodation was more than baffling.

“P-prince Sungho?” Mr Kim blabbered, and you had never seen the forty-something man more flustered than when the young man who announced their arrival confirmed the question with a bob of his head. He was fairly young, around Prince Sungho’s age, but his expression was stern and his stance confident. You wondered who he could be.

“Y/N?” Haewon giggled as she made her way towards you, and her voice was enough to pull you back to reality.

“Oh yes. Yes, we do have enough room for four people… Your Highness,” you added belatedly before they could take your head (did they really do that or was it just the groundless rumours?), and you could see an amused glint in the eyes of your best friend.

“Can we talk to the innkeeper?”

“I am the innkeeper,” you answered matter-of-factly, and you didn’t know whether the young man in front was some sort of royal advisor, knight or administrative personnel to the prince, but he was the one who exchanged a glance with Prince Sungho upon hearing this piece of information. You knew what was coming, so you beat them to it; to have to ask the question on their mind.

“My father left about a year ago, and I’ve been the innkeeper ever since,” you confessed, not batting an eye. You knew it was rare that a young woman your age would be the innkeeper, but it just turned out this way. The reason half of your staff was also in their twenties was because without having your father around, most of the previous ones resigned. They didn’t want to work under a young woman, and some had been very vocal about it.

Awkwardness seeped into the thunder-stricken atmosphere, and it was even more embarrassing having to listen to the wind knocking on the windows when everyone was so silent. Maybe that’s why the prince was quick to dissolve the tension in the air.

“This will definitely do, Taesan. Thank you,” the prince decided as he turned to the coated figure, and you nodded, acknowledging his words.

“You said four people, right?”

“Yes, the coachman is still outside,” the so-called Taesan replied. You immediately asked Mr Kim and Chanyoung to help with the luggage, and let Intak know that he would need to take care of not only horses but a carriage as well.

“Is it fine with you if we store the carriage inside the stables? We do not ever have guests with carriages, I am afraid that is the best we can do… Your Highness,” you reminded yourself to address him properly, but he didn’t seem like he would mean harm. If anything, his eyes widened in a surprised manner when you even mentioned taking care of the carriage.

Once the porters came back with the luggage, you showed the way to the assigned rooms. The wooden stairs leading up to the first floor suddenly seemed too narrow with four of the royal guests, Mr Kim and Chanyoung bringing the luggage and you and Haewon following behind with four jugs of fresh water. You showed Taesan and Prince Sungho to their own rooms while Haewon showed the soldier and the coachman their own ones. You let them know that if they needed any assistance and no one was around, they merely needed to ring the bell on the desk in the hall, and someone would come and help.

However, the most important thing on their mind seemed to be food.

“Oh well,” you looked at Haewon who looked back at you with a slight pout. “Most of our kitchen staff went home because of the storm, so we cannot provide you with the usual meals of the menu. However, if you do not mind, you can join us for dinner. Those who are working here will have dinner together soon.”

You were surprised yet again that Prince Sungho gave in without hesitation – he didn’t seem disgusted or appalled by the lack of fancy options, and didn’t make a comment on the fact that he couldn’t choose what he was about to eat. You appreciated it because you were already so embarrassed by the fact that they were here, in your inn, and you were sure that it wasn’t up to the level of luxury that they expected or that they had been used to.

While the guests were settling in, you notified the ladies in the kitchen about four extra people joining you for dinner. On the other hand, since the headcount for the night was less than usual either way, it was fine, you had enough ingredients to make a big enough batch of hearty stew with seasonal vegetables and sourdough bread.

You were just about to let your new guests know that dinner was ready when you bumped into Prince Sungho and Taesan descending the stairs. They both got rid of their coats, and if anything, the prince just seemed even more ethereal in his cherry-red buttoned cardigan and silky white shirt with a ribbon in front. The way his chestnut-brown locks fell into his eyes recklessly made you want to toss them aside, so that you could look into his pearl-like orbs, but even just the thought seemed awfully inappropriate. He looked so elegant and chic compared to you, let alone the slightly run-down wall beside him which seemed ridiculously basic. That definitely needed a repaint.

Taesan, on the other hand, wore a black turtleneck that was tucked into his wide cotton pants. You heard that mostly royalty and people of high rank wore burgundy all the time which was the colour of your kingdom, however, you had never seen it for yourself. You yourself couldn’t care less about the colour of your clothes.

“You are just in time for dinner,” you announced when you found your voice, and the prince gave you a grateful smile in return. He turned to Taesan to say something to him, and he disappeared within seconds to fetch up the coachman and the soldier with them.

You led the four of them to the dining room where most of the staff already had a seat. This was where guests had complimentary breakfast, and they could also ask for lunch or dinner during the day. Obviously, not only guests could come and enjoy the meals as it was more profitable for the inn to welcome visitors and people from the town, too.

There was another round of awkward bowing and curtsy when the others caught sight of the royal entourage after they had been told who was here to visit. Prince Sungho merely waved his hand in a somewhat coy manner.

“Oh, no need for such formalities every time you see me. Please, take a seat, all of you!” He gestured for those around, and even though everyone was a bit reluctant to be the first to sit down, Intak took it upon himself to do so and sat onto the wooden chair with a loud thud. He decided to sit on the prince’s left while Taesan sat on his right, followed by the coachman and the soldier who took a seat across from them.

You could have easily joined the housekeeping ladies at the end of the table, but you felt like it was your duty as the innkeeper to keep an eye on the prince, to see if everything was up to his liking. To be precise, as much as your humble little services allowed.

So you took a seat beside the coachman, and everyone helped themselves to stew and bread, taking turns to scoop themselves some food from the three bowls that were placed at the front, middle and end of the table. Intak even scooped some for the prince, and though he seemed surprised, he appeared somewhat amused by the gesture, too.

It turned out that Intak and Prince Sungho were actually the same age though it was very difficult to believe it with the prince sitting there in all his glory and Intak being there in his worn-out pants and carrot-stained jumper that Mrs Park from the kitchen had knitted for him last winter. Despite the obvious difference between the two of them, the prince answered the boy’s overzealous questions about palace life in detail, sprinkled with a little humour here and there, and the stableboy made him laugh so much, it was endearing to see. His laughter was so genuine, you found yourself laughing along with them on more than one occasion.

Soon enough, you got to know more about your new guests; that Juyeon was the coachman and Leedo was the soldier; Taesan was the right-hand man of Sungho’s, his advisor and administrative personnel; how he had been chosen through six different tests while being the youngest of the applicants, and that they were on their way to the Water Kingdom to talk about trade matters.

It was all in good spirit, and if it hadn’t been for the thought constantly looming over you that they came from the royal court, thus they were obviously very different from you, you would have treated this conversation as a nice way to get to know ordinary guests.

“Thank you so much for the lovely dinner! This was probably the best stew I have eaten in a long time,” Prince Sungho announced after all of their plates were emptied, and turned to Mrs Park who blushed like a teenage girl.

“Ah, you flutter me!”

“I mean it. It was really good,” he insisted, sparks flying in his eyes, and your little heart did a somersault at the sight. How could he be like this, so genuine, so kind and getting on so well with common people when he was a prince? You couldn’t fathom it, and even though you had never had any fantasies of royalty falling in love with you like Haewon did, it was hard not to be affected by Prince Sungho’s words when he complimented the Phoenix Inn during dinner.

You were thankful that they put an end to dinner by standing up and retreating to their rooms because you weren’t sure that you would be able to take more from them. It was all just too good to be true.

That night, you watched the flames in the fireplace dance along to the rhythm of the rain hitting the windows. Even though it had been a few hours since the storm had started, it hadn’t seemed to die down. There had been quieter periods in between, but the wind had picked up its intensity and the thunder had returned, making you unable to fall asleep. Or to go to bed in the first place.

You had sent Haewon home, but only because she lived in the house across the inn, otherwise, you wouldn’t have insisted because there were plenty of vacant rooms for everyone who didn’t want to bear the storm. After dinner, you had asked everyone if they planned to stay, and helped them to more blankets, candles and lanterns for the night before retreating to your own room, only to find yourself restless by the cacophony outside.

So you decided to sit beside the fireplace in the hall in one of those inviting armchairs that you could sit hours in. You prepared a book to pass the time with, but you spent a few minutes just daydreaming and thinking about what had happened in the past few hours.

Until someone decided to join you.

“Oh, is there anything you need, Your Highness?” You got to your feet immediately when instead of Intak crawling out for some late night cookies or Chanyoung asking for more candles, you were pulled back to reality by Prince Sungho’s voice.

He had changed into looser clothes rid of any pattern or jewellery, but you could still tell that his nightwear was made of the finest material, smooth and thick, perfect for such a chilly night. He wore a knee-length night robe as well, something that highlighted his broad shoulders and slender build.

“No, not at all. I just can’t sleep well in unfamiliar places, but don’t get me wrong, it’s not because of the inn. Not at all,” he justified fervently before you could jump to the conclusion that it must be because his bed was less comfortable than his own bed at the palace, the room was smaller than he preferred it or something of the sort.

You nodded, signalling that you believed his words. He asked for your permission to sit down, and how could you say no? Still, you appreciated the sentiment, and watched with curious eyes as he sat down beside you, claiming the other armchair to himself, so now you were both facing the fireplace.

“It must be hard for you when you travel a lot,” you mused out loud, watching his expression change from slightly awkward to surprised to resigned.

“You get used to it after a while, and it’s never too bad to be wary of your surroundings and others around you,” he explained somewhat lightly, but there was a serious edge to his words. He was looking at you, but still, you had a feeling that he was replaying some memories in his head.

His words made you wonder if he could ever allow himself to fully relax, and the thought made you sad. You couldn’t imagine always being on alert even though you had that period in your life right after you had taken over the management of the inn. You had been certain that someone would break in or commit something horrible, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

However, you had gradually become more comfortable with the responsibilities and the duties, and besides, Mr Kim was a light sleeper, and probably the most masculine man in town, so no one would have dared to come in had they known he was here.

On the other hand, you couldn’t know for sure whether having someone like Leedo around him made the prince feel more reassured, but you didn’t ask about it.

“Do you enjoy leading this life?” You inquired instead, genuinely curious because it must have been a difficult life with all the rules to follow, the etiquette, even the dresses he had to wear. Sure, he had the luxury that most people around here didn’t, but still… you always thought of royalty as rather lonely people.

Prince Sungho didn’t say anything for a few seconds, he was still looking at you, looking into your eyes, but his lips parted slightly, as if he was taken aback by your question. Thinking that it must have meant that you offended him, you immediately apologised:

“I am sorry if I crossed the line with my question, I did not mean–”

“No, no, it’s not about that,” he objected, waving his hands in front of his chest after awakening from his stupor. He even let out a giggle, probably feeling silly for making you feel this way.

“It’s just that you are the first person to ask this question,” he started as he leaned back into the armchair, interlacing his fingers and dropping them into his lap. “People usually assume that I have an easy life, and don’t want to hear complaints about it. I can understand that though,” he added, and as he started talking about his life, it felt like listening to an ordinary person – despite the context of his words –, he was so open and genuine about it.

About the fact that though the pressure was there, he felt like he could be a part of change if he wanted, and that he could help out a lot of people. He also enjoyed the business and trade within and outside of the kingdom as those had always interested him. He also loved that he could practise using his powers safely within the walls of the palace, and even though he didn’t really have the chance to use it in everyday situations, he still thought of it as useful knowledge – just like horse riding or sword fights or literature.

You knew that the members of the royal family and a lot of those who worked at the palace or within the court possessed the power of fire because that was the base of the four elemental kingdoms. However, since the palace was so far away and their powers weren’t used to protect or destroy like back in the days when kingdoms had been at war with each other, it was easy to forget about it.

You listened to him in awe because he had such an eloquent way to say what he wanted. He shared enough about himself, but it never felt like too much. He was firm in his words, but there was gentleness to his tone – especially when he was talking about his younger sisters or working on distributing more to the elderly in the kingdom. He wasn’t boasting, but talked about initiatives that he was passionate about, and that he felt like were benefitting the kingdom and its people.

You swore you could have listened to him talk all day, and you would have been fine with it, but he asked about your side as well, if you enjoyed being the innkeeper. So you told him about how you had learned the ropes from your father, and how some people had already been working here before. How you had made friends with the younger ones, and how you felt like they were your little family since your father had left.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” Prince Sungho said in such a heartfelt way, you almost felt bad for correcting him.

“He didn’t pass away. He just left me and the inn behind. I don’t know where he went, but he hasn’t come back for a year now,” you shared with him, averting your eyes from his face to the crackling fireplace. To be honest, it was easier than ever to talk about your father, you had learned how to navigate the topic, but it was like a cut that always bled – you might not have seen it or felt it constantly, but it was there, it was hurting.

Yet, before the prince could apologise for bringing it up, you added without further prompting:

“He actually drank quite a lot, and caused trouble afterwards. Not just in town but also at the inn, so it might be better in a way that he’s gone,” you confessed, and you didn’t feel guilty anymore for feeling this way.

Deep down, you knew that he wasn’t himself when he was drinking, but you didn’t seem to be a good enough reason to give up on it. So he gave up on you and the inn instead. There had been no big argument or a sudden realisation, one day, he had just left. It had been a similarly cold, stormy night, and since then, the rain didn’t wash him home.

“It must have been difficult for you to keep everything together, including yourself,” he pointed out gently, and your heart squeezed at his words. Now that he put it this way, you realised just how true it was, and it was scary and touching at the same time that he could understand you so easily.

Sensing that you might not be able to speak up yourself after this, Prince Sungho decided to ask about funny stories that happened at the inn. He was especially interested in ones involving Intak. You let out a joyous laughter hearing his request, but you were more than happy to share them with him.

Soon, one story turned into ten, and whilst the rain was pitter-pattering on the windows and the flames were dancing beamingly in the fireplace, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of him, until you ended up falling asleep, kept warm by the flames he added to the firewood just by a touch of his hands.

You woke to the creaking sound of the wooden floor, and opened your eyes to see who it was, only to realise that instead of your room, you were in the hall. The memories of the previous night came crashing down on you, and you felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks while Mrs Park greeted you with a gentle smile and reprimanded you for sleeping in the armchair instead of your own bed. You reassured her that it wouldn’t happen again, and she retreated to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

You went to your room to get changed and clean up a bit before going back into the hall to rearrange the furniture. Then, you unlocked the front door and looked at the remaining puddles from last night, the first rays of the Sun painting the fading green of the grass in orange and light purple. The smell of the passing rain was evident, and you took in a few deep breaths before you got started on your day.

You made yourself busy long enough for Haewon to show up for breakfast, but after she greeted you and went her own way, she came to find you again, only to ask you about last night.

“As far as I know, everyone had a peaceful night. There was nothing major happening,” you replied to her, but she sighed so dramatically, you quirked an eyebrow.

“No, I meant what happened last night between you and Prince Sungho. Intak told me that he heard you and Prince Sungho talk in the hall.”

“Ah, I knew that he would want to get cookies for himself again,” you pondered loudly, trying to dodge the question, but the girl seemed persistent, disappointed even. So you told her that you talked because neither of you could sleep, but it seemed like you couldn’t appease her.

“Did he make your heart flutter?”

“Haewon!” You shushed her, seriously hoping that the prince wouldn’t walk by the storage room right this instant. You would soon need to tell them that breakfast was ready, and you also had a feeling that with the storm passing, they would continue their journey to the Water Kingdom. There was no time to waste for them, you assumed.

“What? He seemed like a kind person, and besides, he was giving you those eyes during dinner,” your friend chatted while helping you fold a clean batch of towels and blankets.

“Those eyes?”

“Yes! You know what I mean… people look at each other like that when they are interested in one another,” she justified as if it had been the most obvious thing in the world, and despite your best attempt at hiding your contentment, you couldn’t fight the blush invading your cheeks. Surely, he hadn’t looked at you like that…

“You like him, too, I knew it!” Haewon squealed when she caught sight of your flushed face, and you were faster than ever to clear up the situation:

“No! I mean, it’s too early to say that I like him like that. As you’ve said, he seems like a kind young man, but at the same time, he’s a prince, and we might not see each other ever again. Besides, he's him, and I’m just a humble innkeeper. We would never work out,” you said it in one-go, but your hopeless romantic friend didn’t seem saddened by your train of thoughts. She shrugged off your concerns like little specks of dust.

“You know, I believe in happy endings. I’m rooting for you,” she said as she balled her hands into fists and held them high, a sign of her support. You shook your head, a smile hiding in the corner of your lips, before you told her to notify the royal entourage that the breakfast would be served soon.

In the meantime, you went outside, and fetched Intak from the stables who had been feeding the horses (and trying to charm them with his irresistible smile and overdramatic stories, too bad the animals couldn’t understand him). Prince Sungho and the others were already seated when you showed up to the dining room, and when you caught the prince’s eyes, you bobbed your head and gave him a shy smile. He smiled back, and you already felt weak in the knees just by the sight of him there, so you decided to sit with Chanyoung, Mr Kim and Taeyang - your gardener - who were sitting at the other end of the table, not beside Prince Sungho, Taesan, Leedo and Juyeon.

However, you couldn’t hold yourself back from looking in the prince’s direction from time to time, especially because he was having a great time listening to Intak and Haewon’s stories about their times at the inn, and his laughter was so contagious, you found yourself smiling into your bowl even though Taeyang was talking about the plants that had been the most hit by the storm last night.

Breakfast came to an end sooner than you would have wanted, and it was time for the guests to go. Chanyoung and Mr Kim helped them with their luggage, Intak helped Juyeon with the carriage, and the housekeeping ladies already got ready to clean their rooms after their departure. Haewon insisted that you should go outside with her and say goodbye to them, but it must have been what everyone thought because almost everyone was outside, lining up beside the carriage. Prince Sungho seemed taken aback by the amount of people, but he said goodbye to each and every one of them and thanked them for their efforts.

You were at the very end of the line, and you were sure that the slight tremble of your body wasn’t due to the weather but due to the prince’s presence. Even as he halted in front of you, you felt like your heart was crushing your ribcage, it was beating so wildly, and the prince’s words didn’t help at all.

“Thank you so much for everything, Y/N,” he bowed his head and you curtsied as much as your dress allowed. He made your name sound so elegant, so precious, you felt heat rising to your cheeks. “You should be proud of yourself, you are really the heart and soul of the inn,” he added with a smile so gentle, it felt like a feather-like touch caressing your cheeks.

“T-thank you, Your Highness. I am delighted that you had a pleasant stay,” you stuttered a bit, your voice coming out small. The prince boasted a slightly amused smile seeing your reaction before turning around and getting into the carriage.

You could see Haewon’s lips curling upwards from the corner of your eyes, and you wished you could vanish right then and there. This encounter might have been like a fairytale, but he was a prince, and you were an innkeeper, you were sure that this was it.

You were wrong, it seemed. Even though flowers already started blooming the next time Prince Sungho showed up, he did so nevertheless. Then, he came during summer and during autumn, too. He never stayed too long, only a night or two if he decided to drop by on his way to the Water Kingdom and on his way back.

One of his sisters got married to Prince Donghyun from the Water Kingdom in the meantime, so there was a lot to do in terms of negotiating. He didn’t always tell you what he was up to, after all, you were sure that much of it was confidential, and you didn’t want to pry. However, whenever he talked, he made you feel like you weren’t two worlds apart, he shared every detail and background stories. He made you feel like you were a part of his world.

It was flattering, to be honest, and it made you wonder if he felt the same way towards you. After all, he could have chosen any inn he wanted, yet, he kept coming back to yours, keeping you company beside the fireplace at nights, and he wasn’t hiding the fact that he was looking for you whenever you weren’t around. Needless to say, Haewon always called him out for it.

You enjoyed the thrill of it; the subtle touches by the fireplace, the warmth he could quite literally bring with him, the ways he cared even if he didn’t boast about it, the gazes that you shared at the dinner table, and the times you spent stargazing on the newly built patio whenever the weather allowed. All of those who worked at the inn welcomed him back warmly, and scarcely did you have a guest who knew the prince personally, so you didn’t feel like you had a reason to hide from others. Besides, they could see what was going on between you two, and you were sure that even the quiet Taesan knew about it.

You were usually very giddy to see him again, looking forward to each and every day as it held the hope of a new encounter. However, the following winter passed by slowly and full of doubts because you had heard the rumor that Prince Sungho might be getting married to a princess. You were moping, of course, because you hadn’t heard anything about a marriage the last time he had been there, but who were you to hold him back? You were just a commoner, nothing more.

You had a feeling that the reason Prince Sungho didn’t show up until early spring was exactly for the reason you were so heartbroken in the meantime, but he did show up, and nothing seemed to change about him. On the other hand, you were more wary towards the prince, and he caught onto it. He even decided to ask you about it at night when you inquired if he had anything he needed for the night. If he had just said no, you would have had the chance to escape him. He answered differently though.

You were standing by the door in the corridor while he was leaning against the door from inside his room, but you felt like there was more than distance between you two now. The looming rumour of his marital status drove a wedge between you two.

“Am I bothering you?” He asked straightforwardly, and you were sure that he used this tone of his for trade talks: firm, straight to the point yet not accusatory. He was looking at you gently – like always –, but you felt like he was pinning you to the door with his gaze.

“No. I merely believe that there are better-suited places for a prince,” you answered rather coldly, trying to keep your voice void of any emotion.

It was better this way, you told yourself. You and the prince had been doomed from the start, so it was better that you were over it before it could turn into something more. So why… why did you feel so betrayed?

He looked perplexed for a few seconds, but then, he regained his composure and confessed as if it meant nothing to him to say such words:

“It’s because I feel the most comfortable here out of all places, and I like spending time with you, too. I feel at ease beside you.”

“Prince Sungho…” You croaked out, torment scratching your throat when his name fell off your lips. Why did he have to be so genuine? Why did he have to look at you like that – like he really meant it, and he would do everything to keep it that way? Why, just why did he have to look up from his eyelashes, his deep, dark eyes boring into yours, keeping your gaze hostage?

“Hmm?”

“You should not say things like that.”

“Why?” He blinked at you, confused, as if all those communication lessons he had sat through at the palace had been in vain because he could not understand a girl like you.

“Because it makes me hopeful,” you retorted, raising your voice out of frustration. The prince seemed taken aback by it, too, his eyes widening at your sudden change of reaction, but he stayed still nevertheless. He still had no clue, did he?

“Ah, nevermind,” you mumbled and turned around to leave, but the prince caught your wrist.

“Y/N?” He called out, perplexed and desperate, and you wished nothing but to be strong enough to resist him.

His grip wasn’t hurtful, it was gentle enough, so that you could yank your hand away from his if you wanted. The truth is, you didn’t want to, so you turned back to him instead. It was a grave mistake though because he looked so hurt, so vulnerable, your heart immediately sank at the sight.

“Prince Sungho, I am afraid I cannot do this any longer,” you reasoned quietly, looking away, so that you wouldn’t have to look at him, to look at the hurt you had caused. It didn’t help though, you merely felt worse by it, so you looked back at him. Afterwards, there was no turning back, the words just bubbled up.

“I like talking to you by the fireplace, too. I like when you say my name like that. I like that you see me for who I am, and I can let go of the burden of the inn when I am with you. I also like that you make me feel more confident in myself and remind me that I should be proud of where I am instead of what more I can do, and I like how I am feeling beside you. But… I do not think it is right for me to like any of this, to like you above all. I have heard that you might get married soon, and that is the way it should be. You are a prince, and I am just… me.”

There was no need to deny it; you were so very different, and it had been so very obvious from the start, but there was always that seed of hope within you that wanted to bloom despite the harsh weather conditions around. Now reality trampled on this little flower that almost managed to bloom… but almost was never enough.

“I am sorry,” Prince Sungho said simply, his head hanging low, and even though there was no reason for you to ask for confirmation, you had to because you didn’t want to delude yourself into what ifs anymore.

“So is it true?”

He nodded without hesitation, twisting the knife that was already deep inside your heart. You felt like choking, tearing up, anything but standing there still, unable to move.

“I’ve wanted to tell you, but I did not know how. It is complicated, but…” The prince started, searching for your eyes, and you needed everything in you to be able to hold yourself together when he continued. “I want you to know that I like you too.”

Oh, how much you have wished to hear those words before, but now they seemed utterly wrong. Now, it seemed wrong to like him out of all people when he might have to marry a princess, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The only option was to minimise the pain, so after closing your eyes for a few seconds to ponder over your answer, you decided on it.

“I must ask you to not come back anymore after your current stay. I am sorry,” you said so quietly, resigned, before yanking your hand away from his and walking away from him.

Prince Sungho didn’t come back again – just as you had asked him.

The thought of going back to the way things had been before meeting him pained you, and to be honest, it would have been futile to act like nothing had happened. Everyone knew that something was up, and since everyone else heard the rumours of his possible marriage, you had a feeling that you didn’t have to spell it out for them; that the prince would likely not come back.

Days blended into weeks and then into months. Time was moving at a different pace now that you didn’t look forward to each day in hopes that you would run into Prince Sungho again. You busied yourself with renovations of the inn until there was nothing else to fix, and still, it wasn’t enough to forget about him. Haewon tried to set you up with boys his brother had become friends with, but to no avail. You didn’t feel anything towards them even if you wanted to. Each and every time, you were thinking how differently the prince would do things, he was constantly on your mind. Rainy days, starry nights and the smell of firewood reminded you of him.

Though you didn’t hear any more marriage news from the palace, you believed that it was because finalising a marriage between royalty took a long time. That’s why you were even more taken aback that a letter arrived one day, delivered by one of the royal mailmen who insisted on staying until you gave an answer based on the content of the letter.

You exchanged a look with Haewon who seemed rather excited, so much that she took the letter from your hand because you hesitated too much. She opened it immediately, and her free hand flew to her mouth in surprise when she saw the inked lines written on the paper.

“What does it say?” You raised an eyebrow in question, but instead of answering properly, the girl hit your shoulder giddily before handing you the letter to read it for yourself.

Your heart skipped a beat when you realised that the letter was from none other than Prince Sungho himself, and he invited you to attend the autumn farewell ceremony. The Fire Kingdom had a farewell ceremony for all four seasons when people bid goodbye to the previous one and welcomed the new one, gathering around a huge fire in front of the palace and giving their blessings to the kingdom and the royal family. You had never been to one because you had been too busy making ends meet, but now the prince invited you and any companion you wanted, and if you said yes, he would make sure to take care of everything – sending you a dress beforehand and sending you a carriage on the day of the ceremony.

The prince said that he was waiting to see you and that he wanted you to be the first one to know about something important, something that he must tell you to make up for last time.

“I bet he wants to tell you that the marriage was called off, and now you can be his!” Haewon squealed, and bounced on her legs, unable to contain her excitement. You gaped at her in disbelief, but at the same time, there might have been something to her words. After all, why would he invite you to the palace out of all places if he was about to get married?

A few minutes later, when Haewon’s overly excited chattering died down, the royal mailman reminded you to give an answer, and you decided to listen to your heart and give it a try. So you said yes, and that you would take Haewon – who, though touched, didn’t seem surprised at all –, and off he went.

As promised, your dress arrived a week before the ceremony, but there was another one in the box alongside it much to Haewon’s zealousness. They were both pitch-black as black represented the end of something in your kingdom – just like how flames turn to black ashes when they can no longer feed on oxygen –, and it was the official colour of the seasons’ farewell ceremony. They were so smooth, so soft, even having patterned, lacy and pearl-dotted parts, something that you had never been able to wear before. Even just looking at them made you weak in the knees, let alone on the day of the farewell ceremony when you could finally wear them, and Haewon helped to braid your hair and do your make-up.

Even though you scarcely wore make-up, your friend insisted that you should do it this time because it wasn’t everyday that you were going to the palace. Not to mention that she was set on her ‘steal the prince’s heart’ agenda, firm in her belief that Prince Sungho wanted to let you know that you could finally be together.

Though it seemed too good to be true after your last encounter, you wanted to believe her, and most of all, you wanted to enjoy this magical time. You didn’t even remember the last time you had spent a day away from the inn, but you were grateful for everyone working there because you knew you could leave them for this time and everything would be fine. Even though Intak teased you that you would likely not want to come back after going to the palace once, Mrs Park was visibly touched when you and Haewon waited in the hall in your dresses and Mr Kim almost fell down the stairs when he caught sight of you two. At these times, they really did seem like your family.

The carriage arrived in time, and even though the journey to the palace lasted a few hours, you weren’t bored because you were with Haewon after all. However, the closer you got, the more nervous you were, and it didn’t help that you didn’t know where you were when the carriage halted and you stepped out of it because there weren’t a lot of people, except for multiple empty carriages. That meant that you were probably on palace grounds, not where the ceremony was supposed to take place.

“I will show you the way to Prince Sungho. He is waiting for you,” a court lady announced with a polite smile as she walked up to you two and you exchanged a glance with Haewon before following her through beautifully crafted arches painted with the historical moments of the Fire Kingdom, giant fountains trickling with bubbling water and an enormous statue with a man and a woman holding a torch in their hands which was actually lit up with fire. You wondered if it was always burning with magic because it seemed likely here.

You were surprised that even Haewon was quiet on the way, but you could understand her silence because it was just too much to take in for people like you; all these luxuries, beauty and wealth. Yet, the most magnificent of them all was Prince Sungho when he walked up to you alongside Taesan, wearing a burgundy suit over a black shirt tucked into his cotton pants, his broad shoulders and slender waist highlighted by the waist-length of the suit.

He seemed almost relieved when he laid his eyes on you, but at the same time, he was definitely taken aback. You felt your cheeks burning up when he averted his eyes to your dress, though he did it in the most respectful way possible, and immediately found your eyes afterwards.

“Your Highness,” Haewon curtsied beside you, and you followed suit when you finally awakened from your stupor. Heart beating rapidly, you straightened your back, just in time for the prince to call out your name.

“Y/N… So glad you could make it,” he said so gently, so lovingly, and he would have just stood there smiling at you if your friend beside you hadn’t cleaned her throat, gaining his attention. He immediately looked at her too and bowed his head, albeit a bit sheepishly. “You too, Haewon. Thank you for coming.”

“It is truly my pleasure, Your Highness. What a wonderful court you have! I was wondering if maybe someone, someone like Taesan could give me a tour?”

“Me?” Taesan’s eyes widened, the bewilderment written all over his features. He looked at the prince for help, and the disapproval was evident on his face when the prince gave in to Haewon’s suggestion, and sent him away to show your friend around. Then, the royal advisor let out a long sigh, but did as he was told.

Before they would disappear though, Haewon turned around to send you a wink, and you had to hold yourself from giggling aloud. She was so unbelievable, but in the best way possible.

When you looked back at Prince Sungho, you immediately melted into a puddle – it was his effect, it seemed. You could barely register that he asked a question, you were so occupied with the swirling feelings inside of you. You managed to pull yourself together and tell him about what you had been doing since you had last met. When you inquired about his side, he was quick to confess that the marriage offer was withdrawn.

“Why?” You asked immediately, both out of relief and surprise. You thought that when such offers were made, they would surely be finalised, but it seemed that it wasn’t always the case. Not that you knew a lot about marriage proposals…

“Apparently, I was not charming enough for the princess,” Prince Sungho answered matter-of-factly, no hint of disappointment in his voice, but you were hurt on his behalf as well.

“How? She was clearly blind then,” you exclaimed totally out of character, and you were about to apologise for your outburst when the prince let out a giggle beside you. You realised that you had missed hearing him laugh, hearing his voice, just being with him, and the warmth he carried around found its way into your heart again.

You smiled coyly seeing his reaction, but couldn’t help but ask another question.

“Why did you tell me?”

You were here for a reason, you were here because the prince had invited you, so you were certain that he had more to add to the story even though you were immensely relieved hearing that. You also felt a bit guilty for holding a grudge against him all this time when he had not been set on marrying a princess, at least he didn’t seem disappointed in the slightest.

He took his time to formulate his answer, but when he did, you were just as confused as relieved.

“Being a princess is not the only way to marry a prince. Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your eyebrows, your heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t want to see more into his words than could be, but you couldn’t push down that hopeful surge of energy going through your body.

Prince Sungho boasted a somewhat content grin as he continued, his words proud and also a bit playful. You liked that look on him; when he was confident and light, his features as peaceful as they could be.

“I have just made my father approve of the new rules for royal marriage within the Fire Kingdom. Actually, it was my cousin, Prince Jaehyun, who begged me if we could tweak the law a little bit, but I felt like it was my time to speak up on the matter as well.”

You didn’t want to believe your ears at first. This was what you had been dreaming about, and yet, you needed one little confirmation to actually believe it:

“Is your cousin in love with a commoner just like you are?”

“Yes. Very much so,” he bobbed his head, and suddenly halted in his steps, so he could turn towards you. He reached for your hands to hold them in his, his touch electrifying you from head to toe. He was gentle, his touch was so gentle, even the way he looked at you was so tender and loving and caring, you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

“Yes, I am in love with you if that is why you were asking,” he confessed, keeping the eye-contact, so you could see how genuine and earnest he was. Your lips curled upwards immediately, and you felt like you could burst out in excitement.

“I-I don’t know what to say…”

“Maybe you can say that you feel the same way and let me hug you,” he suggested a bit teasingly, a lopsided smile appearing in the corner of his lips. Despite his suddenly playful attitude, you did just as he told, confirming that you were very much in love with him and hugged him tightly, sinking into this warm feeling, soaking in this happiness that seemed so far away once, but now it was all yours.

You didn’t even want to let it go, you didn’t want to let him go again.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think! 😊

Click here for my BND masterlist

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for BOYNEXTDOOR or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here. 🥰

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

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micherrim · 1 year ago

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I've been thinking, xie lian was already aware of hua cheng, mu qing and feng xin's identities during banyue arc, revealed to hua cheng his awareness to his identity early on but prolonged the two's masquerade, was because he wanted to get back a little bit on his two former friends

#i didnt see anything...i mean i didnt hear anything #if that is what their family they looked like will you still wanna fuck them?#xie lian is a little shit but i love him for that #and the at the revelation on the silk pit #priceless #like rubbing a salt to the wound #and he even call feng xin nanyang after that #i really like his cheekiness #and i love how openly cheeky become xie lian was when reunited with his friends #then they just exchanged comedy like that #txt #edit: today i have this one on draft as well #might as well fly

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vaguely-concerned · 3 months ago

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as I am replaying origins -- a game which, to be clear, I love very VERY much -- I can't help but feel that people do don the rose coloured glasses on it a bit specifically when it comes to the range of dialogue options you're actually given to work with at any given time (something I've seen my fair share of silent vs. voiced protagonist discourse about over the years *smokes tired cigarette in survivor of a decade of DA tumblr*). like... there are a couple of situations where you're given a decent range of responses, but the vast majority of the time you have about three dialogue options, and often they're presented sort of like 'polite/bland/unprovoked near-cartoonish levels of assholery'. arranged like, y'know:

I am [BLANK]. It's an honor to make your acquaintance.

You can call me [BLANK].

How dare you speak to me. Fuck you and your family back five generations. I'm going to rob your mother's grave before your eyes.

(sometimes if you're real lucky you get the secret extra 'Something else/I'm bald/but I'm a dwarf!' option)

I'm not at all saying it's worse in that aspect than the other games (Dalish Inquisitor 'Who's Mythal' just entered the chat), but I do think it's worth considering that this might be a bit of a franchise original sin that has been present since the beginning, as indeed it is in most rpgs because making rpgs is real hard, and you notice it more with the dialogue wheel format than when the responses and questions you can ask are all laid out in a list together

#sometimes you also have 'sane and relatively polite' and then two different flavours of cartoonish assholery haha #or 'three barely rephrased versions of the same sentiment'. listen. It's hard to make a game sometimes you just need to get the player #through to the next part of the conversation I understand that perfectly haha #dragon age #I personally like the clarity the dialogue wheel gives you as to what is a question that'll loop you back #to uh the trunk of the conversation tree as it were and what responses move the conversation along and make those unavailable #you basically just have to feel the vibe on that in origins sometimes and it stresses me out even now #(also nice to know when you've flirted with a companion it's always sad to ninjamance someone and then have to crush their dreams lol)#but I absolutely see how some people might prefer the list layout and see the whole line their character will be saying #the dialogue options you get before facing uldred especially are. fucking wild tho #I think they're trying to do a whedonesque deadpan comedy exchange with the crazy guy (which like sure it was a different time)#but especially if you're a mage and just witnessed the devastation of everyone and everything you've ever known... weird vibe!

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unproduciblesmackdown · 4 months ago

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(genderly) chill as hell if i was only ever glimpsed / detected like this

#Shrouded In A Rectangle neither sleeves nor an open front to be besieged with? yes #just doing whatever else like doesn't matter. tee cargo shorts which is my best guess rn of my ideal outfit. + sandals Absolutely #unfortunately my hair could never do that. somehow neither am i yet like forties fifties? have i not been at this for eons?#i Can be like uh let's just nobody talk to me i'm busy pensively perceiving truths that you don't ever actually wanna hear about #just the other day it was like hey....a [way Having To Talk could be a difficulty / problem] was under my nose in this lifelong pattern #certainly noticing the Verbal Exchange Demand heaped upon burnout as like [delay delay delay struggle weariness stress]#but also who knows like spent plenty of time just probably indeed Not having to have such exchanges while burned out. not noting them #anyway like this isn't even [dysphoric Ideal Outfit until i could [whatever supposed even more ideal than that gender euphoria]]#though shoutout to that but like nah get shrouded anyway. the only [how do i look] im motivated to consider is: when it's a costume #when it's just me it's like. i guess whatever pants and a comfortable enough tee. need glasses. hair's w/e so cut quite short ig #might accessorize w/things that are fun to me like hey yeah yknow i might want a calculator watch #[yea as a kid it was like :( im actively appreciating the animals supposedly Gross or Bad] if i had hated little friends Sure yaay #if i had disorienting light effects like a pelagic creature. but you don't even need that. like hey i'm nd in real life. i got it #chat i'm in the walls too bestie lmao. if only my bigfoot pose reference Step was this good #tl;dr long rephrasing of my being like; now the gender slay....#& nodding & Noting when [worksheet exercise: what's your gender euphoria look?] is like shrug idk. but this is serving maximally to me; so #going Chat how can i up my uncanny stats. looking up ''isn't it like Uncanny knowledge e.g. so like why not....canny''#but i think the un canny is the Uncanniness Accuser's perspective. not of My ken. your literal weird one maybe #so again apt to be like jk i'm just autistic & shit; i got it....horror shit challenge impossible: Don't have sm typical mundane #[disability moment] as like Unsettling danger/malice cues. challenge impossible; again #subverted here like as [horror holding hands touching foreheads w/comedy] w/o Rescinding just casual disabled behavior/qualities #just remembered like three witches weird sisters etc macbeth. weird uncanny soothsaying gendering. word #anyway i should be shrouded (made no any connection whenever i put the blanket now over my head & shoulders in place min ago)#perhaps the real Ideal Look insight: i do not have any way i wish to be observed by people. secret passages / removed room anytime

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explorersaremadeofhope · 11 months ago

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paradise lost update, god has resorted to asking raphael to pop down to earth and have a friendly chat with adam over lunch and casually drop into the conversation what a bad move it would be to eat the apple

trying to take this seriously

#*#feeling increasingly like a comedy #this coming after the frankly iconic exchange between satan and gabriel in the garden where satan just. called gabriel stupid.#like that's a dignified thing to do befitting his position.#which again followed 5 minutes after he went off on the two junior angel soldiers who apprehended him because they asked him who he was #and his ego couldn't take it #PL updates

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cloudberrylane · 2 years ago

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baby food task

#taskmaster #taskmaster s6 #s06e03 #russel howard #tim vine #greg davies #alex horne #liza tarbuck #alice levine #asim chaudhry #tv #comedy #i just felt rly bad for the babies #you look most like a baby #all chickens are vegetarian arent they #this whole exchange was too funny

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sailforvalinor · 2 years ago

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#I was just in the shower (yes at 2 am because this is uni we don’t take showers before midnight we die like men) and I was suddenly struck #with this memory of this time at the end of my senior year where this guy in my dance company who I had known for like four or five years #but had barely exchanged two sentences with suddenly referred to me as ‘dearest sweetest of Vals’…but only to ask me to grab him a water #bottle 💀#and I thought it was a little weird but I moved on until like the next day I found out that he had broken up with his girlfriend the week #before and I was like was he trying to do something there?? or was he just being weird?? likely the latter but still that timing was a bit #strange that’s all I’m saying #anyway filing it in my collective pile of evidence to support the fact that every interaction I’ve had with a guy with romantic (or #potentially romantic) subtext has been objectively weird #I’d really like to disprove my conviction that my life is a dark romantic comedy and I’m the butt of every joke but ladies the evidence is #MOUNTING.#the only thing I’ll say about the guy who is the greatest evidence for this is that it involved a) a debate about the early church and #communism b) The Wingfeather Saga and c) him writing poetry comparing me to a rock #you can’t make this stuff up folks

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seeminglyseph · 2 years ago

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Aw fuck I watched an Overly Sarcastic Production video and now I’m thinking too much about mythology again.

And now I need to work on trans man war god of rebirth and madness Dionysus, who I’m considering changing “war on Persia” to “war on Perseus” because it is way easier to justify going to war on Perseus. I can make a comic about going to war with Perseus. While Greece and Persia had a considerable number of historical wars, I am fatigued by the modern connotations.

I want to fight the guy who killed Medusa instead. Ego battle between two sons of Zeus. There are multiple ways this fight has been written going down, some are really fucking nasty and that’s fun! In some Dionysus transforms into a giant and causes earthquakes and vines begin growing up an tangling around and choking out enemy forces and a chasm opens up and swallows whole sections of Perseus’ troops and Hermes has to intervene and to put it mildly Perseus fucked up really hard in that version and is one of the reasons for the multiple myths of Dionysus seeking the entrance to the underworld to request from Hades to bring someone to Olympus. Often it is his mother Semele, but he does sometimes bring other people as well. Because of the flexible nature of myth I think the most popular version is actually one where he goes to request that Hades release a the recently passed real life comedian. Because life is fucking absurd like that.

#seph talks greek myth #the comedian one I believe has one of my favourite exchanges in all mythology #between heracles and dionysus where it is the most brotherly energy I have ever beheld in my entire life #basically #dionysus: do you know how to get to the underworld?#heracles: have you tried a noose?#and it's just 100% pure brother interactions #these absolute shitheads I love them so much #like it's good hearted I think they rib each other comedically a bit #since it's a comedy

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brunchable · 2 months ago

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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.

3K notes · View notes

chelseeebe · 5 months ago

Text

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here.

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?”

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking.

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.”

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?”

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.”

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.”

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched.

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room.

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it.

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message.

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something.

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much.

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave.

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now.

not if you were sleeping in his bed.

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it.

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done.

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly.

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process.

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips.

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.”

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze.

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation.

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie.

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house.

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre.

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered.

tonight it’s different, you get to pick.

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it.

you land on edward scissorhands.

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble.

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath.

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way.

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary.

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on.

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you.

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone.

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive.

it’s torturous.

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding.

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night.

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know.

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land.

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act.

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core.

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour.

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case.

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him.

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief.

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips.

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red.

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears.

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt.

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand.

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?”

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was.

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up.

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?”

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off.

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away.

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek.

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window.

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?”

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started.

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out.

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please.

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him.

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article.

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,”

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making.

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did.

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across.

if only she knew.

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria.

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now.

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties.

eddie can’t take it anymore.

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer.

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure.

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport.

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women.

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand.

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down.

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful.

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones.

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much.

“you want some help with that?”

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion.

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs.

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager.

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame.

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric.

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house.

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin.

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking.

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears.

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was.

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch.

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere.

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house.

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute.

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life.

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things

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