the-fic-locker

[the-fic-locker]

The Widow | Part Two

Pairing: Min Byungyu x f!reader x Baek Yoonho

Content Warning: character funeral, grief, panic attacks, dissociation, bottling up emotions, early pining

Genre: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut, slow burn

Summary: He knew the memorial service was going to be hard on you both, but what he didn't expect was to witness just how kind-hearted your soul really is. No wonder Byungyu had been drawn to you. There might be a little part of Yoonho that's a little jealous, though, can you be jealous of a dead man?

Word Count: 2,790

Author's Note: I must say, I have never seen so many activity notifications! It felt like I was constantly getting more and more activity, and that was so heart-warming! So much so, I had to hurry up and finish part two! This one has also not been proofe read, but I still hope you enjoy!!

previous | next | series info | masterlist

Due to the sheer number of deaths that occurred during the raid, there was a mass memorial service was held a week later. Part of Yoonho felt (y/n) got cheated. Another part of him was glad they did it this way. You wouldn’t have wanted a bunch of mourners circling you, crying over you. You’d always hated that thought.

The news of you leaving a widow behind had hit the news the day after they returned. The Association was still unsure of who could have let the information slip. Jinchul had started mercilessly interrogating everyone working in the office, resulting in lots of sick days for those who cracked under his intense pressure. As a result of the leak, Yoonho had been sleeping on the burnt orange couch in the living room. He was there as moral support when you woke up screaming or vomiting in the middle of the night, but he was also there to scare off any reporters who had come in search of their next big headline. The memorial ought to keep them sated for a few days.

At the service, you were dressed in a solid black dress with a small hat with a veil covering your face. It was old-fashioned, but it looked good on you, plus it hid the redness in your eyes well. Yoonho accompanied you to the funeral and sat by you, but he gave you a moment of your own to mount the steps to the memorial to pay your final respects to your late husband. When you returned after laying your flower at his picture along with a letter of your own, he got up and made his way up.

Yoonho didn’t know why he was surprised seeing Jinwoo Sung coming down from the frame where he’d laid his flower with the ever-growing pile. The man looked utterly dejected, his face pointed to the ground. Yoonho knew from experience that great power came with great responsibility and an even greater amount of criticism from the public, who never really understood the weight of what Hunters did. The country had seen what he was capable of. Maybe not everything, but they’d seen enough to wonder why he wasn’t there to begin with. Yoonho was sure he was feeling responsible for not just Byungyu’s death, but for the deaths of everyone, and that weight wasn’t good for anyone to carry.

So he stopped him and relayed the words of wisdom that Byungyu himself had once laid on him three years ago. He made Jinwoo promise to wait for him at the bottom, and then he kept climbing.

“I’m sorry you never got to live your life with (y/n) or meet your child. I should never have brought you back in, but without you, we’d all be dead. Thank you for your sacrifice. And I promise I’ll take care of your wife and child,” he whispered, eyes caught on Byungyu’s smiling face.

He laid his white flower down on the pile and gave the man one last smile before walking down the steps and joining Jinwoo at the bottom.

“Come with me,” he said. “I want you to meet someone.”

Jinwoo looked hesitant, and Yoonho half expected the man to disappear like he was never there, but he let Yoonho lead him to the front where you were waiting. Jinwoo’s body locked up upon seeing you.

“(y/n), I’d like for you to meet Jinwoo. The man who helped save all our lives and end that nightmare,” Yoonho said.

He didn’t know you well enough to know how you’d react. Part of him was screaming that this was an absolutely horrible idea. The other part was hoping heavily that this was the right decision. That you could help one another find peace.

You turned around to look at them, your eyes watery beneath the veil. Jinwoo looked like he was near collapse, so Yoonho carefully, without touching his shoulder, guided him to have a seat in his spot beside you.

“You ended it?” your voice was weak as you spoke.

Yoonho could make out a subtle nod and he wished he could grab Jinwoo and express just how grateful he was– they all were– that he had showed up when he did. It didn’t matter that he was late. They all had their own lives, and he was no affiliated with any guild. He had a responsibility as a Hunter, but that responsibility was not commanded. He wasn’t there on the first, second, or third raids. He didn’t have a stake in the game. He simply showed up, however he did so, because he knew they were going to die. He is the only reason they all hadn’t lost their lives like so many of the Hunter’s from Japan.

He didn’t really know what he was expecting from this interaction. He didn’t truly know how you would react. Maybe for you to reassure him that you didn’t hate him. Maybe to slap him for being late. Maybe to promise him that your husband had given his life with purpose. Whatever there was, he definitely didn’t think you would throw your arms around the man’s neck and weep into his shoulder.

Jinwoo was hesitant. He never struck Yoonho as much of a hugger or someone who liked to be touched. He’d always brushed Yoonho off when the man grabbed his shoulder, then again, their very first meeting was less than ideal. However, Jinwoo wound his arms around you, holding you against his body and something inside of Yoonho’s chest rumbled.

This was his idea. The hug was an added bonus, but as he watched the tears drip down your cheeks, landing on Jinwoo’s black dress jacket, he couldn’t help but wish he was the one soaking up your tears. As quickly as the jealousy presented itself he forced it away. He had no business feeling protective and possessive over his best friend's widow. Especially when you were hugging the man who’d made his death mean something.

When the two pulled away, Jinwoo hid his face shyly as he rapidly wiped at his eyes. He was more affected by Byungyu’s death than Yoonho had expected.

He stood up, whispering his condolences and farewell to the both of you before departing and Yoonho took his seat again.

“Thank you for that,” you whispered.

Your hand found his, resting on his knee. You gave it a soft squeeze before folding your hands back in your lap and looking forward and the speeches started.

When the ceremony finished, everyone filed out slowly. Yoonho, hand resting protectively on your lower back, guided you through the crowd to where his black SUV was parked next to Jongin’s much more expensive and flashy red Corvette. He opened the passenger door and helped you in before closing it behind you and walking around to his side as Jongin and Cha Haein were approaching.

“How’s she doing?” Jongin asked, voice low even though the doors were shut.

The question was honest and earnest. As soon as Yoonho had learned about the full severity of the situation, he had phoned Chairman Go. From there, he wasn’t surprised that someone, likely the “indelicate” Jinchul had made the S Rank Hunter’s aware as they were all still shaken up and affected by the death.

“She’s… grieving, but pretending she’s ok,” Yoonho answered as best he could.

He didn’t know you well enough to be sure, but he suspected you were hiding your emotions when he was around, something he hoped to help you with as you got to know each other a bit more.

“I can’t believe he…” Jongin started, then, seeming to find it as indelicate as Manager Woo, paused. “I’m glad she has someone she can lean on. Let me know if I can do anything for either of you.”

This was not the Jongin Yoonho was accustomed to. Choi Jongin was an arrogant, selfish man who constantly held an annoying smirk across his face, but as he stood in front of Yoonho dressed in black with a red tie, there was no trace of that persona. Could it be possible that there was more to Jongin than Yoonho realized?

“Would it be alright if I came by tomorrow? I’d like to meet her,” Chaein spoke up.

Her voice was soft and delicate and Yoonho found himself giving her a respectful smile.

“I think having another female around to talk to about things like her feelings might do her some good. I’ll text you the address.”

He climbed into the driver's seat eventually and turned the ignition.

“Friends of yours?” you asked.

Yoonho nodded as he backed out amongst the traffic.

“Yes. They were there… and Chaein, the girl, would like to come over tomorrow. Is that alright with you?”

You thought for a moment before nodding.

The rest of the ride was silent. When Yoonho pulled into the parking lot of the apartment, you unbuckled and grabbed your purse from the floor.

“Are you coming inside?” you asked.

“If that’s alright with you.”

You nodded and climbed carefully out of the SUV as soon as he turned off the engine. Yoonho stayed back a moment, watching you head into the apartment building before he climbed out and followed you. You met again in the elevator, refusing to look at him, and eventually, you made it to the apartment where your hands were shaking so bad you couldn’t hold the key straight to unlock the door. Gingerly, Yoonho eased the keys from your hands and slid it into the lock, twisting it until it clicked and he was able to push the door open. You walked through the door, your whole body practically trembling now. Yoonho saw all the signs. His background as a firefighter was enough to queue him into a panic attack. He himself had experienced it a time or two. Quickly, he shut and locked the door before spinning around and placing a hand on your lower back. You barely seemed to realize he was there, and as he gently pried the purse from your hands, he caught a glimpse of your clouded eyes.

“Hey,” he spoke softly but firmly. “Look at me.”

He came around in front of you, one hand still on your back and the other now lifting to your chin. He tilted it carefully, guiding your face up from where you’d been looking ahead, and forced your eyes to meet his. Your pupils were dilated and your irises clouded over. He knew you couldn’t see him. You couldn’t see or process anything. He doubted you could even hear him.

Both hands came to rest on your waist and he gently guided you forward as he stepped back, his heightened senses allowing him to look behind him without taking his eyes off yours. He guided you over to the orange couch and grabbed the blanket that was thrown over the back of it once you were seated. He threw the blanket over your shoulders, tucking your arms into it gently and swaddling you in it as best he could.

“(y/n)?” his voice was soft and calm, but it didn’t seem to jar you back.

He sat down on the couch next to you, slipping an arm around your waist and drawing you a little closer.

“(y/n)?” still nothing.

He could see unspilled tears gathering in the corners of your eyes and he finally closed the distance between your bodies. He drew you into him, spreading his legs and pulling you to rest between them fully, your body pressing into his chest. When you still didn’t respond more than letting him maneuver you, he cupped your cheek in his hand, his other arm wrapping around you tightly, keeping you pressed hard against his body as his calloused fingers stroked over your cheek.

“You don’t have to hold it in,” he spoke softly. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re not hurting. You can bare yourself to me. I won’t judge you. I’ll be right here beside you through this whole thing.” As they sat there, Yoonho talked to you as his fingers continued to stroke your face and his arm held you secure. He talked to you about his own feelings. About how he missed his best friend and where the White Tigers were heading. Then he talked about his days before his awakening. The days when running into a burning building had been so normal, and how crazy it was that those buildings had become gates. Then he talked about nothing. Blabbering nonsense to fill the silence. And finally, after what felt like an eternity but was really only a few minutes, he felt your body mold into his, your face coming to rest on his chest as tears spilled freely.

“What just happened?” you sobbed.

He brought his hand up to gently stroke your hair.

“You had a panic attack that turned into dissociation,” he said. Your body shook against him, but not like before. You turned in his hold until you were face to face with him, hot tears streaming down your face freely now.

“How am I going to do this… any of this… without him?” you asked through broken sobs.

Yoonho secured you against him with his arm and drew you to him tighter until you rested your head against his chest and sobbed against his white button up shirt that had long since become uncomfortable.

“I don’t have all of the answers. I don’t know what it’s like to be in love or to lose the person you’re in love with, but I do know a thing or two about losing loved ones. It’s hard, unbearably so at first, and you never really get over it, but it becomes easier to bear over time,” he said.

He lowered his head to press a soft kiss against the top of your head.

“You will not forget him. You will always love him, and even though he isn’t here physically, and even though this is cliché as hell, he’s always in your heart,” he muttered against your hair and pressed his knuckles softly against your chest over your heart.

“And you don’t have to do this, any of it, alone. I will be here with you throughout it all. You’re not going to have to do anything alone if you don’t want to. I am here to comfort you, to get you ice cream in the middle of the night, to drive you to your doctor’s appointments, I am right here with you no matter what,” he said.

“W-what about your guild?” your voice was weak and cracked, but he could understand you clearly.

“They can manage without me for a while. I may have to check in on occasion, but they’re always telling me I work too much, and they’ll understand. If nothing else, I can ask Mr. Sung to step in as guild master for a while. It’ll be good practice for him,” he said.

You nodded against him and your shoulders finally stopped shaking.

“I want you to move in here. I feel better when you’re here, like he’s somehow here… And when you’re here… I know that everything’s going to be ok,” you said the last part at a whisper.

Without thinking twice, Yoonho nodded. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”

You nodded and nestled deeper into his chest, making yourself comfortable as your tears slowly dried on his shirt. It wasn’t long after that that your breathing slowed to a steady rhythm, soft snores leaving your stuffed nose. He smiled down at you fondly.

It had been a long time since he’d held a woman in his arms like this while she slept. Most women he met nowadays were eager to get into Yoonho Baek’s bed in hopes of witnessing the beast within, but they all left before the morning, leaving him unsatiated and hungry for a closeness he didn’t think he’d ever find. With you in his arms, his heart swelled. You were what he’d been missing. The piece of the puzzle that had yet to be put together, but you were his best friend's widow. You were not his missing piece. You couldn’t be. And he’d never tell you that you were.

He carried you to your room, careful not to wake you up. He laid you down on the bed and tucked you in carefully. You ought to change out of the dress and remove your makeup before sleeping, but he didn’t want to wake you, so with a kiss to your forehead, he crept out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

What the fuck was he going to do?

[the-fic-locker]

The Widow | Yoonho Baek

Pairing: Min Byungyu x f!reader x Baek Yoonho

Content Warning: character death, grief, mentions of blood, tears, loneliness

Genre: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut, slow burn

Summary: There were a few things Yoonho was certain of. 1) His best friend had a wife he'd never told him about. 2) That same friend had died before his wife could tell him something that would change their lives forever. 3) He owed it to Byungyu to look after and protect his wife, even if it meant denying himself for the rest of his life.

Author's Note: This is a series I am just starting. I had this idea ironically when I was joyriding around the block, screaming the words to "I Have Nothing" by Whitney Houston, which really has nothing to do with this story, it just sort of popped into my head. I will update as often as I can!

Notes on the genres: 😘 - fluff, ���� - angst, 🥵 - smut

"Take care of her, Yoonho. And let her take care of you." -- Min Byungyu

Part One | 😭

Part Two | 😭 slight 😘

Part Three

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist

[the-fic-locker]

The Widow | Part One

Pairing: Min Byungyu x f!reader x Baek Yoonho

Content Warning: character death, grief, mentions of blood, tears, loneliness

Genre: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut, slow burn

Summary: Yoonho never imagined that his best friend would keep such a monumental secret from him, but after his death, Yoonho is tasked with breaking the news to someone he has never met.

Word Count: 2,685

Author's Note: This has not been proofread, so I will be going back eventually and editing, however, this is also part of a series, so as parts come out, I will be trying to edit. I cannot guarantee how quickly parts will come out, nor how long this series will be exactly. Just bear with me and I hope you enjoy!

next | series info | masterlist

In hindsight, Yoonho supposed he really should have figured it out sooner. Byungyu’s distaste for battle wasn’t new, but the desire to join the contract sector as an average citizen was new, one he didn’t expect. The man’s financial situation was elite. He had participated in enough dungeons that he had a very lucrative bank account. He didn’t have to do anything. Though Yoonho supposed he couldn’t blame the man for wanting to do something with his life, though why he didn’t choose to go into the medical field was, well, confusing. 

When his best friend had denied him the first few times, it was understandable. Jeju Island had already claimed so many lives, including their best friends, but something had suddenly changed his mind. Yoonho didn’t think anything of it; he was just happy to have the talented healer with them. He should have asked more questions. 

“President Baek, exactly how much did you know about Min Byungyu’s situation?” Chairman Go had asked shortly after the fourth and final raid of Jeju Island. 

He should have been paying more attention, but his chest ached with grief, and his muscles were sore. Hunter Sung had managed to heal them somehow, but nothing could take away the stinging in his hands when his claws protruded. All he wanted to do was go home and crack a beer, and sit in the silence of his empty apartment he never had the time to fill with personal effects. He wanted to wallow in pity and self-hatred until a new day dawned and he had to go back to his guild and act like everything was ok; worse, to celebrate the enormous victory. 

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, sir. He wanted to give up being a hunter all together and go work as a custodian in an office firm,” Yoonho had explained.

The look the Chairman had given him was diplomatic, but there was a twinge of something, perhaps sorrow, hidden behind his eyes. Yoonho had glanced up at Manager Jinchul Woo who was dutifully standing behind the chairman, but as always, the man was more difficult to read than thousand-year-old hieroglyphics written in decayed clay. 

“So you weren’t aware of his private and personal life?” Chairman Go asked, sounding surprised. 

There was another thing to be guilty over. He called himself Byungyu’s best friend, but he apparently didn’t know anything at all about him! He’d only ever been to the man’s apartment once, and he’d since moved. He hadn’t set foot in the new, larger place. He didn’t interact with the man all that much anymore, except for the occasional text, which was usually Byungyu sending him memes he’d respond to three days later. There was the occasional beer, but Yoonho had been so depressed after losing Eunseok in the third raid that he’d let Byungyu slip farther and farther from his mind. 

“Well, regardless,” Chairman Go sighed, seemingly disappointed. Even Jinchul seemed to be uncomfortable now, shifting his weight from one foot to the other restlessly. “We have a… less than comfortable task to handle. Typically, I’d send Jinchul, but he has been… hugged out… for a while and needs a break, plus he isn’t always as delicate as this situation requires.”

Yoonho wished the old man would get to the point so he could go home. He glanced up at Jinchul, who didn’t seem to care that he’d been called indelicate. Yoonho doubted there was anything about him that was delicate at all. And hugged out? What was that supposed to mean? 

As Yoonho was waiting for the chairman to finish his long-winded explanation, Jinchul disappeared, stepping out of the room to grab something off his desk before returning, holding a small, white box. 

“As you know, upon awakening, we take a memento from every Hunter to deliver back to the family of a fallen Hunter. Byungyu’s token was changed two years ago from a patch from his uniform, a typical token for a bachelor, into this.”

As Chairman Go finished, Jinchul opened the white box. Resting inside, on a white cushion, was a silver locket with a silver chain. There was something engraved upon the top, but Yoonho didn’t feel like using his heightened sight to strain to read it. 

“He has asked that this locket be delivered to the widow he’d be leaving behind, and we thought you should be the one to do it.”

The fact that his best friend was married and he had no clue was another punch to the gut, but what’s perhaps worse was thinking about the grieving woman in their apartment, waiting for her husband to come home. She would know that their helicopter had landed. She’d know that they’d won. She probably wouldn’t know about Byungyu’s death yet. The camera had evidently cut out by then. And now…

“Sir… respectfully… I can’t…” he mumbled, already feeling numb. 

Chairman Go pulled something out of his pocket and placed it in Yoonho’s hands. It was a letter, folded a few times on otherwise unremarkable paper. As Yoonho unfolded it, his hands shaking, he gasped as he found Byungyu’s handwriting scribbled as neatly as the man could. 

Yoonho, If you’re reading this letter, I can only assume it is because something happened and I have lost my life. First of all, don’t beat yourself up about it. Whatever happened, I’m sure I went out trying to protect my friends, and there is no better way in my book. However, now that I am gone, I am leaving you with a difficult task. I am sorry this has fallen to you.  I have a wife. Her name is (y/n). She pieced me back together after Eunseok’s death, and we got married a year later. I know this is a bomb to drop, and I tried to tell you, many times, but neither of us were in a good state at the beginning and as you feel deeper and deeper into your guild, using the work to keep you from actually feeling the sorrow, I moved on, and I didn’t think you’d understand.  Yoonho, being a Hunter is hard work and it’s messy. I have never regretted my decision to leave, but if something has pulled me back in, I know I died happily for you. Do not let my death pull you into another depression. This one might kill you. You were reckless enough as it is. I am not mad at you for however you pulled me back into the game. Do not let your mind convince your heart that I am. And don’t throw yourself into your work to punish yourself. That’s not doing anyone any favors. Instead, you can atone for my death (if you still feel like you need to) in two ways.  Take the locket and a letter back to my Jimin. Tell her how I died, she needs to know everything. Comfort her. She worries a lot and has habits similar to your own. Don’t let her kill herself through her work. Be there for each other. Stop trying to take the blame for everyone else's decisions. We all make our own. You have never forced anyone to do anything. We make decisions based on your words sometimes, but they are still our decisions. Stop letting yourself be convinced that you’re a god who mind-controls everyone else into doing your bidding. Everything I have ever done has been of my own volition.  I wish you the best in this life, Yoonho. Don’t be afraid to let yourself live life and find love. Hunters are constantly busy, but you can have it all. You can be a Hunter and a life. It’s time for them to stop being one in the same.  I will see you on the other side, my friend.  Love,  Byungyu

The letter had tears pricking to the corners of his eyes and he finally understood the smile Byungyu had given him as Jinwoo had released his shadow. He clenched the letter tightly as looked up at the chairman, only nodding once. He’d watched as Chairman Go fished out the second letter and then he was dismissed, locket and letter tucked inside the same box in his shaking hands as he made his way to the car and punched in the address he’d been given. 

So here he was, standing in the hallway of the apartment building he’d been directed to, staring at the plain white door that matched all the others, reading the number from Jinchul’s text for the third time to be absolutely sure he was at the right door. 

He could hear movement inside and music. There was the occasional clang of something hard slamming into something else that almost made his skin crawl. He wanted to cut tail and run, to pretend this wasn’t happening, but his arm seemed to act on its own as it raised and knocked firmly. 

The music stopped and he could hear bare feet padding across the floor to the door, his ears picking the sound up easily. He heard the door unlock, and a second later, it was pulled open, revealing his best friend's widow dressed in sweatpants and a stained t-shirt. 

“Baek Yoonho?” your voice was full of confusion. He couldn’t blame you. 

“You know who I am?” he asked. 

“Of course,” you said, wiping your soapy hands on your pants. “Gyu has so many pictures of you and Eunseok all over this place. It sometimes feels like a shrine,” you chuckle softly. 

“How can I help you? Is Gyu ok? He hasn’t come home yet and by the look of you, you all just got back.”

“Can I come inside?” Yoonho spoke, voice soft. 

“Uh yeah sure,” you hold the door open wider. 

He stepped through, admiring the place. The door opened into the front room, living room, where there was a paused Spotify playlist casting from the television. There were slightly mismatched couches pointed at the television, the longer of the two was a thick, plush burnt orange, and the other, smaller one gray with a blanket thrown over the back of it. There was a coffee table with books stacked up on one side and a vase with a handful of roses on the other side. As you led him to the couches, he could see the kitchen from a serving counter window with three bar stools on the end. Inside the kitchen, he could see a strainer full of wet dishes and the sink full of soapy water with a washcloth perched on the side, likely discarded when he’d knocked. 

You motioned for him to sit on the orange couch while you sat down on the gray one, folding your hands into your lap and looking at him expectantly. 

Yoonho’s hands began to shake, and the box in his pocket suddenly felt like it was scorching his skin. He clasped his hands together, trying to hide the way they quavered. 

“Mr. Baek… Where is my husband?” Your voice was quiet, but his accelerated hearing could pick up on the way it cracked on the final word. 

“He…” Yonho had to clear his throat and blink away the tears that threatened to gather. “He didn’t make it… He died… trying to protect me,” his voice came out hoarse and broken in a half-choked sob. 

You were quiet momentarily, processing what he’d just said. When you finally spoke, your voice was strong but uneven. 

“Did he suffer?”

Yoonho tried to think back. Had he? When he saw that things arm go through him… all he could see was blind rage. 

“Not for long. It was over quickly. But he managed…” he swallowed. Should he tell you that his soul saved someone? No. Probably not. And he promised Jinwoo to keep that confidential anyway. “He managed to save one more life before… he was truly gone.”

He looked up into your face. You had silent tears streaming down your cheeks and made no move to brush them away. Your bottom lip trembled, and your chest heaved with labored breathing. 

“I’m not sure if you’re aware… but when becoming a Hunter under the Association, they provide the Association a token in the event they don’t make it back from a raid. This was his,” reaching into his pocket, Yoonho pulled out the box and opened it, placing it on the coffee table. 

You took out the letter on top first and, using his abilities, if against his will, he was able to read the message her husband had left for her. 

My Love,  If you are reading this, I have left you alone in this life and in this world and for that, I am truly sorry. Please understand that if I died in a raid, it was because I will always be there to back up Yoonho and to protect him from himself. He isn’t the best at patiently waiting for the right time to strike, and if no one else is there to back him up when he pounces, I will always be there.  Yoonho scoffed at that. ‘Pounces.’ He wasn’t a cat! He didn’t pounce! Please understand and don’t hate him for it. It was not his fault.  Let him be there for you. You’re going to need to lean on each other. Don’t let the grief drag you down. And don’t let him blame himself.  You both meant so much to me. Know that though I died protecting him in battle, I died protecting you back home. I could not go on living without you and I know that is unfair since that is exactly what I am asking of you. Be strong and move on. Don’t let my death hold you back from living your life.  We will-

You put the letter down before Yoonho could finish reading and buried your face in your hands to cover the wails that left your lips. Yoonho wasn’t sure what came over him. Maybe it was Byungyu’s letter to him, maybe it was the fact that he’d always hated seeing women cry. Whatever the reason, he found himself moving onto the gray couch beside you and placing his hand on your back, stroking it soothingly. He wasn’t expecting you to lean into him, burying your face in his side. It took him a second to respond, but when he did, he held you against his side securely and continued to rub your back. 

You sat like that for a while. You sobbing and Yoonho comforting you in any way he knew how. When your shoulders finally stopped shaking, and you shifted against him, he loosened his hold, allowing you to sit back up. Your eyes were red and bloodshot, but you looked back to the table where the box with the locket still sat. 

Picking up the box, you examined it before lifting it out of the box and opening the locket. There, resting in the two tiny frames, was a picture of  Byungyu giving his most dazzling smile, dressed in his Hunter’s uniform with dirt stained on his cheek. It was an image taken shortly after the first raid under the White Tiger’s guild. The second was you and Byungyu holding onto one another on your wedding day, looking at each other with gazes full of love. 

A sob left your throat as you closed the locket and passed the necklace to Yoonho. 

“Help me put it on,” you said.

Taking it, you turned your back to him and lifted your hair. Yoonho slid the locket around your neck and carefully clasped it in the back. When it was secure, you let your hair fall over the chain and looked down at the jewelry resting on your shirt. 

“Now I guess I have two tokens from him,” you whispered. 

Yoonho was going to ask what you meant until he watched you place your hand on your belly, a sad smile spreading across your face. Yoonho had never felt so sick. 

[the-fic-locker]

Anime Masterlist

This is a consolidated Anime Masterlist that I will be adding to as time goes on. This is subject to change as I post more and watch more anime, so don't get too attached to the outlook I suppose.

😘 - fluff, 😭 - angst, 🥵 - smut

Solo Leveling

One Shots

Turning Red | Jongin Choi 🥵

When an A Rank dungeon turns into a Red Gate, you and Jongin must find a way out. Weird writing inside of a cave might have answers that neither of you are prepared for.

Series

The Widow | Yoonho Baek 😘, 😭, 🥵

There were a few things Yoonho was certain of. 1) His best friend had a wife he'd never told him about. 2) That same friend had died before his wife could tell him something that would change their lives forever. 3) He owed it to Byungyu to look after and protect his wife, even if it meant denying himself for the rest of his life.

[the-fic-locker]

Turning Red | Jongin Choi

Pairing: Jongin Choi (Solo Leveling) x fem!Reader

Content Warnings: porn w/ little plot, almost straight smut, all about smut, virginity taking, slight blood, oral f!receiving, mentions of powerful monsters, not beta read at all!!

Summary: When an A Rank dungeon turns into a Red Gate, you and Jongin must find a way out. Weird writing inside of a cave might have answers that neither of you are prepared for.

Word Count: 3,770

Author's Note: This was written rather hastily. I really wanted to write and publish something and I have been very dissatisfied with the lack of Jongin ff's, so I decided to write one, but I am very rusty, so my apologies for grammar mistakes.

It was supposed to have been a normal, run of the mill training exercise for the high ranking members of the Hunter’s Guild. As a precaution, Jongin Choi himself had elected to attend. After the last A rank dungeon where nearly half the unit had been whipped out by High Orcs no one expected to be there, he wasn’t taking any chances, especially with the few brand new recruits. He had planned to watch one of the higher ranked A’s lead the squad while he stayed in the background for support, but not everything always goes according to plan and lately, his luck seemed to have been running dry, or that’s how it seemed at first. 

As an A rank in the Hunter’s guild, you worked hard to distinguish yourself from the rest, and maybe you were a bit of a brown-noser at times after all the late night coffee runs and after hours dinners with the guild master himself. You had been making a name for yourself not just in the guild, but in the eyes of the leader himself. He had begun to make it a habit of trusting her with small responsibilities, treating her almost as an equal as opposed to another random person in the guild, and now, it was your time to shine. All your extra training and late nights helping him, Jongin Choi had finally noticed your potential as a leader and had asked you to prepare a team to lead into a recently opened A Rank dungeon. And so you did. 

You gathered a team of six other guild members, including two healers, and together, the eight of you gathered at a huge A Rank dungeon in a back alley. The dungeon had only been open for about two days, but no one had dared breach it. In an attempt at repair the damage the orcs left on their reputation, the Hunters guild had laid claim to it, and here they were, standing in front of the massive gate. 

“Master Choi and I will go in first, behind us, the tanks, then the mages, the swordsman, and then the healers,” you announced. 

No one said anything, they all nodded politely and you squared your chest, sword strapped to your hip. You took a few deep breaths, preparing yourself for what was to come. When you were ready, you took a step into the dungeon and disappeared behind the gate, Master Choi right behind you. The tanks were prepared to step in after Choi, when there was a loud clang and the atmosphere of the dungeon began to change. 

“Shit!” You heard Jongin curse. 

You both turned back to look at the entrance where six dumbfounded faces stared at you as the once blue gate turned red, sealing you and Jongin away alone. 

“What is happening?! This has never happened before an entire party entered!!” You yelped, but by now, the dungeon entrance had disappeared and you were locked in with Jongin until either you beat the boss or there was a dungeon break. 

“Great,” Jongin muttered. “Now they’re going to have no choice but to call Vice Guild Master Cha and Sung. Then, because Baek watches him like a hawk, the White Tigers will show up!” Jongin vented grudgingly. 

“I’m sorry Master Choi. If I had realized-“ 

“I’m not exactly sure what you’re apologizing for. It’s not like you forced the gate to turn red. I’m just complaining. Ignore me and let’s try to get through this thing quickly. For every hour outside, a full day passes in here.” 

Together, you ventured into the vast greenery of a dungeon, eyes sharp for anything that might sneak up on you. The trees were thick and dense, anything could be hiding amongst the branches. Your feet crunched on decayed pine cones and leaves as you walked, and the occasional sound of something reminded you that this was not a normal stroll in the woods. You had to be sharp and ready for anything to launch an attack. Judging by the forest that was beginning to drip rain, you guessed it’d be some kind of ranged attack. 

 While you were both high ranking hunters, Jongin found it difficult to fight alone, seeing as he couldn’t shield himself with his fire, and you were sometimes a little too zealous, charging forward without thinking, which was part of the reason you wanted to become a captain, to force you to voice your strategies aloud. Neither were good traits for one on one combat. The dungeon likely would have been easy if the others, even one tank, had made it through. 

As you both crept deeper into the dungeon, you realized that something was off. While you could hear something off in the distance, it was sounding more and more like a normal animal, not a monster or beast, and seeing as it didn’t rush you immediately, it didn’t seem interested at all. It almost felt like you were both in the dungeon completely alone, which didn’t make sense for a Red Gate. 

As the day waned on and your bodies became weary from walking, you found a cave and walked through it, ensuring it was free of monsters before waving to Jongin, who’d been collecting branches and leaves from the foliage and forest floor. As if there was something triggering it, as soon as Jongin stepped beneath the entrance of the cave, there was a downpour, though for some reason, the falling liquid didn’t appear like rain. Instead it was thick, heavy droplets of dark purple fluid that splashed loudly on the ground and stuck to it like glue. 

“Something tells me we shouldn’t get caught up in that,” Jongin chuckled as the ground was quickly covered in goo. 

“Hopefully it won’t seep into the cave,” you said and lead him down a narrow shaft and to the end of the surprisingly deep cave. 

Jongin dropped the sticks in a pile on the stoney ground and began arranging them into a neat stack for a fire before snapping his finger, bringing a small ball of fire to life. He lowered his hand and the fire danced from his fingertips, eagerly onto the wood, gripping and munching on the kindling like it was a sentient thing. 

With the light of the fire, the cave light up and for the first time, you were able to actually see the cave walls. Walls that should have been completely blank or splashed with mud was instead scribbled over in some reddish brown substance that looked far too much like old blood. 

“The Virgin Sacrifice,” Jongin read aloud. 

Your cheeks heated up at the words, but you didn’t speak, afraid your voice would come out as too much of a squeak, so instead, you walked over to where Jongin was standing, reading over his shoulder. 

“If you want to leave the cave, spilling of blood is the only way. Spill too much and your journey will end. Spill none and the creature we’ll send. Blood of virtue is the only way. Deflower the virgin, and win the day.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” 

Jongin ripped his glasses off his face and cleaned them virgoriously on his shirt as if the words were a mere smudge on the glass, but as you stared, mouth agape at the wall, you suddenly knew why there were no beasts yet in the dungeon. This was the test. This was the boss. 

“We have to… y’know,” you mumbled. 

It suddenly made sense now why the dungeon had only allowed two of you in. One a virgin, and one to deflower the virgin. 

“What?! Spill blood?! Are they expecting one of us to injure the other?!” 

You shook your head. Jongin was smart. He had to understand, but you could see why he’d be so confused. There was nothing about you that screamed virgin. You were tight fitted clothing that accentuated your breasts and buttocks. You flirted with him on a daily basis and you had the dirtiest of minds and mouths when you had a few drinks in you. You had intentionally put up such a facade to make people believe you’d been with a man before when in reality, you’d never even taken one home. 

“You have to take my virginity, Jongin,” you muttered quietly, cheeks blazing hot now as you cast your gaze upon the floor. 

Jongin was silent beside you. 

“No… that can’t be what it means. There’s no way…” but he knew. He was smart enough to know. 

“We’re never going to get out of here if you don’t… That’s why it only allowed the two of us…”

Jongin didn’t respond. He turned on his heal and squeezed back down the narrow shaft toward the entrance, but returned several seconds later, face as red as his hair in agitation. 

“The entrance is completely blocked off now. Whatever that goo raining down has us trapped here. Who knows when it’s going to- why are you disrobing?!”

The game of denial Jongin was playing was losing it’s appeal rapidly. You knew it wasn’t an issue of attraction. You’d watched the man’s eyes rake over your body seductively when you both stayed a little too late in the office. He’d bite his lip and look away when you didn’t think he noticed his pink tongue flick out of his mouth and graze over his lips like a ham-hungry hound. 

“I don’t know how else to say this. We are not getting out of here until you fuck me!”

You saw a switch snap behind Jongin’s eyes as you hooked your hands in the bottom of your shirt, hauling the material over your head, but before you could rid your hands of the fabric, Jongin had seized them and shoved your body back against the wall of the cave, hot mouth claiming yours before the gasp could pass your lips. 

His lips were searing, almost like he was trying to spark a fire with them. You could feel your lips blister at the touch slightly, turning scorching red, but as they moved with yours, you found yourself bothered less and less. 

When he finally pulled away, you could swear there was steam rising off his body as he held your gaze with a dark, burning look. 

“I didn’t think our first time would be your first time and in a dirty cave of a dungeon no less,” he spoke, voice deeper now, husky with need. 

Your thighs quivered slightly as you chewed on your bottom lip, careful of the newly sensitive flesh. 

“So you thought about our first time? How would that have gone?” you asked, voice barely whisper. 

Jongin’s face relaxed slightly as he took another step toward you. 

“I would have started by kissing you softly,” he spoke, leaning in again and kissing your lips once more, much softer and less scorching than the first. 

He placed one hand beneath your jaw and guided your head back until the crown rested on the stone. Hand still loosely wrapped around your throat, he poked his tongue between your parted lips, slipping into your mouth  and flicking across your muscle, teasing it into dancing. Together, your tongues swirled around your mouth, his taking every opportunity to explore yours until he pulled away, having sufficiently stolen your breath. 

“I would have kissed down your throat and eased my hands up the shirt you’ve already mostly discarded,” he whispered. 

His fingers moved from their spot around your neck, being replaced by his lips that glided smoothly down your skin while both hands slid onto the tender flesh of your torso. 

He glided them up your ribs, making you shiver. His tongue poked out of his mouth to meet the flesh of your neck, gliding over it in a wet trail down to your collar where he nipped and sucked the area until it bruised with his reward. 

Your hands slid themselves out of the tangle of your shirt and wound themselves into his hair, tugging lightly. He growled against your skin and slid his hands up to unclip the bra caging in your breasts. Expertly, he pulled the garment free, sliding the straps down your arms and letting the heavy mounds fall against your stern momentarily before the cotton bra was replaced by his hands. 

Skillfully, he massaged the supple flesh, fingers digging softly into the tissue until they found your perky, untouched nipples.You gasped, back involuntarily arching off the stone wall as his fingers pinched and pulled them carefully. 

“Jongin,” you breathed, tugging hard on his hair as his fingers flicked over your buds. 

“Does it feel good darling?” he whispered, dropping himself down to be eye level with your nipples. He poked his tongue out of his mouth, tracing over the nipple lightly before taking the whole thing in his mouth, suckling around it. 

“Yes,” you moaned. 

With his mouth preoccupied alternating between nipples, his fingers slipped down to the button of your pants, popping it open almost effortlessly and slowly, tantalizingly, pulled your pants down until you kicked them off. He pulled away from your freshly hardened nipples, blowing cool air on the wet flesh before pressing his lips back to yours. You took the opportunity to push your hands up his shirt, lifting it from his skin until you were tugging it over his head as he separated his lips from yours long enough to shrug it off. 

As you explored his newly exposed chest, he pulled you back in for a kiss. Your fingers trailed up and down the toned muscle before he lifted you off the ground, forcing you to wrap your legs against his waist for stability. He lowered you down to the stone floor, eliciting a hiss from your throat as your back hit the cold rock. He swallowed your hiss and pulled away. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, voice already hoarse. 

“If I’m going to lose it to someone in a dungeon, I’m glad it’s to you.”

With a grum smile, he kissed down your throat again and trailed his lips down your chest between your breasts and to your naval. He pressed a kiss to it, making you giggle before he continued kissing further until his lips found the lace band of your underwear. He grabbed them between his teeth and pulled down down your legs, guiding your limbs out of the confinement before finally leaving you naked, illuminated only by the flicker of the fire nearby. 

You saw Jongin swallow thickly before slipping in between your thighs, pushing them apart and kissing up your thighs slowly. Your hips quivered in anticipation, but he didn’t tease you or make you wait. As soon as he reached your core, his tongue dipped out of his mouth, giving a testing flick to your bundle of nerves that made a screech leave your lips as your hips flew into the air. 

“Well hello there sensitive little clit,” he grinned, eyes flicking up to you. 

You didn’t have a chance to respond before his lips were back on you, wrapping around the bundle of nerves and suckling on the isolated nub as your hips bucked and flinched almost wildly and desperate as pleasure like you’d never felt before coursed through your body. The vibrator hiding under your pillow at home was nothing compared to Jongin’s mouth, bt it wasn’t until his tongue pressed dow on your clit that you really let out an ear splitting squeal, fingers clenching in his red hair. 

Jongin, seemingly spurred on by your inability to control your actions, slipped a hand up between your legs beneath his mouth and pressed a single digit into your already dripping core. Your body sucked him in eagerly and your thighs snapped closed around his head as his ring slipped past your barrier and his finger was fully submerged. He let it sit there, unmovingly for a few moments before gliding the pad along your walls and pulling it out, then pushing it back in. 

“Jongin!” you breathed, eyes squeezing shut. 

His mouth finally relinquished it’s hold on your clit and his tongue flicked over your core before slithering in with his finger, flicking over your walls as his finger curled inside you, searching for something. 

He slid a second finger inside of you and curled them again until they hooked around and caught something that made you scream and squirm. 

“Found it,” Jongin muttered triumphantly once his tongue was freed. He watched your reactions to his fingers as he pumped them slowly inside you before adding a third, and that’s when the burn started. 

“Shh,” Jongin soothed. 

He pressed a kiss to your clit as his fingers spread inside of you, stretching your entrance to make it a bit more comfortable. 

When the pain ebbed away, his fingers began hitting the spot inside you that was already making you see stars and his tongue went back to work writing the alphabet on your clit. The familiar knot in your stomach was tightening, but it felt stronger. 

“Oh fuck Jongin!” You moaned, back arching off the ground, forcing your hips against his face. 

His fingers kept the same rhythm, his tongue continued tracing over your clit until your toes were curling, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“Oh fuck! Yes!” you screamed. “I’m coming!!”

Your orgasm washed over you in a tight white flash that had your entire body quivering. His fingers and tongue never stopped as they worked you through your orgasm until you were pushing away away, begging him to stop as the overstimulation set in and made your body twitch with aftershocks. 

He obeyed politely, looking up at you with his mouth dribbled in your juice. He brought his fingers to his lips, wrapping his lips around them and drinking down the juice coating them before wiping his mouth on his discarded shirt. 

“Think you’re ready to get out of here?” he asked, hands going to his belt and unfastening the leather. 

Breathlessly, you nodded, eyes eagerly watching him unfasten the belt and open his pants, pushing them down his legs, allowing his hardened cock to spring up and slap against his belly. He was long and thin, tip bright red with pre-cum dribbling from the tip. You ran your tongue over your lips, already imagining the taste, but Jongin didn’t give you the time to spring to your feet. 

“We’ll save that for next time, when I can properly ravish you in my bed,” he said, crawling over your body and hooking his arm under one of your knees, bringing it to his shoulder to spread you move for him. He pressed his tip against your entrance and looked into your eyes. 

“Last chance to back out,” he spoke. 

You shook your head. “I’m ready.”

He was slow, pressing into your entrance inch by inch, allowing you to feel all of him. The pain was there, but bearable. The stretching had loosened your walls enough that he could slide in with ease. He peppered a few kisses along your neck until he bottomed out. Then he stopped, allowing your body to adjust to the foreign intrusion. 

After a while, the ache faded and you rolled your hips, forcing him to bob just slightly inside of you, but pleasure shot through your body. 

“Mmm!” you moaned. 

Jongin grinned and pulled himself out of you slowly, letting his length drag against your walls as he went. When he was almost completely out of you, he slammed back in and a scream ripped from your throat as your nails found his back, digging into his skin. 

He repeated the process, thrusting deep inside of you over and over again, rearranging your hips and angling until he found that same spot that had you seeing stars before. When his tip hit, you threw your head back, slamming against the rock as you cried out. 

“Jongin!!!”

Smirking above you, he snapped his hips inside of you over and over again, hitting that same spot until the knot was coiling back inside your stomach and your eyes squeezed shut. 

“No! Look at me!” Jongin demanded. 

Your eyes snapped open to see him staring deep into your eyes, his usually perfectly combed hair sticking to his sweaty face as his hips rocked into you. 

“Look at me while I fuck you! Look at me while I make you cum!” he demanded. 

You nodded, eyes staring into his as his hips snapped and the knot grew tighter and tighter. 

“I’m gonna cum!” you whined, eyes threatening to close. 

“Look at me!” Jongin hissed. 

The dam broke with a few more thrusts against your sweet spot and stars bloomed in your vision, but you never took your eyes off the male hovering over you. Your body shook through your orgasm and his hips helped you ride it out until he was twitching inside of you. He pulled out quickly, making you whine at the loss. He pumped himself few times before his white seed dribbled from his tip in a hot stream to shoot strings over your stomach and breasts. 

After a few moments and deep breathing, you both calmed down from your high and you shifted to look at the stone beneath you. Sure enough, there was a little blood beneath your body and the ground seemed to shake. 

“I think we just cleared the dungeon,” Jongin said, panting. 

“That was it? No fighting beasts, just fucking?!” you asked. 

“I guess we’ll find out. Are you ok? Did I hurt you too much?” he asked. 

“No, I’m ok, but I’m not finished. Let’s get out of here so you can finish showing me what you would have done if our lives hadn’t depended on spilling blood in the cave,” you chuckled. 

Jongin gave you a small smile and the two of you dressed, clasping your hands together as you made your way out of the cave where the dungeon entrance greeted you. Jongin pressed a kiss to your lips as you stepped through the gate, completely unaware of the numerous eyes watching your figures retreat. 

“We’ve found her master. We’ve found the one strong enough to handle our eggs,” a ghastly, monstrous voice whispered in the void of the darkening dungeon. 

“We must have her, and the boy too,” a deeper, darker voice responded. “And we’ll get them. Soon.”

The dungeon disappeared as your figures stepped through the gate to find your team standing there waiting with questioning and panicked glances that neither you nor Jongin cared to answer.

Thank you for reading! Check out my Masterlist if you'd like to see more!

[the-fic-locker]

ONE OF THE BEST JINCHUL SCENES!

MANHWA:

ANIME:

[the-fic-locker]

Well written and beautiful!! I kept getting so pissed off at everyone who dared disturb me while I was trying to read!!! Can’t wait to read more!!

a little bit of love ◆ jinchul woo

pairing: jinchul woo (solo leveling) x fem!reader

content warnings: eventual smut, forbidden-esque romance, angsty, slowburn, probably not proofread (will add more general tags as series progresses), mentions of domestic abuse, mentions of cheating, mentions of trauma

extra: the reader is Y/N Song to avoid overuse of "Ms. L/N" lol

author's note: shoutout to @hiraethwa for helping me brainstorm this. ave deserves like 50% of the credit ngl

(no gifs of our boy, so an image it is <3)

In which you, a freshly awakend A-rank hunter, end up working rather closely with Jinchul Woo, the Chief Inspector of the Hunter's Association's Surveillance Team.

note: if a chapter has the emoji next to it, it is safe to assume that the content warning is explicit

😳 for smut; 🫥 for angst; 🥹 for fluff

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prologue 🫥

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

[the-fic-locker]

Hi!! Was wondering if you had recs for Bucky and reader fake dating??

Fake Dating / Marriage

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

Keeping Score by @all1e23

After hearing you begging Steve to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to keep your family off your back, Bucky quickly jumps at the chance to play your boyfriend even though you’re a hundred percent sure he hates you. What could possibly go wrong?

the right partner by @bucky-bucket-barnes

You and Bucky have always possessed a complicated history, and even more strained relationship with one another. Begrudgingly, you're sent out on a mission with Barnes where you two are posing as a newly wed couple. In an effort to investigate the consistent disappearance of young women in a certain neighborhood, you find yourselves forced to confront a whirlwind of emotions.

Suburbia by @wkemeup

Posing as husband and wife, you and Bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a Hydra hacker. Perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.

where do we go from here by @traitorjoelite

when you agree to be bucky's date for his sister's wedding - and his fake girlfriend for the weekend - you're expecting a good time with your best friend. but things may never go back to normal

Fake It Till You Make It by @buckyalpine

Fake dating solves everything… right?

A Little Longer by @buckyalpine

It’s just a little lie.

Crossing The Line by @jadedvibes

After your friends set you up on a blind date with your sworn enemy, you both drunkenly decide to mess with them by making a bet to see who can pretend to be a happy couple the longest.

annoying neighbors and fake boyfriends | 2 by @lovelybarnes

“You stayed over at my place one night but my nosy, annoying neighbour saw you leave. They always get on my case about being single so I told them that we’re dating to show them”

SERIES

The Holiday Hack by @gogolucky13

You ask Bucky to be your stand-in boyfriend for your family’s Christmas party.

Breaking The Rules by @redgillan

You hate James Barnes with a burning passion and the feeling is entirely mutual. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, you are tricked into attending his sister’s wedding as his girlfriend. Stuck with a bunch of strangers, you come up with a set of rules that are not going to last long.

Best Boyfriend You’ve Ever Had by @language-rxgers

When you find out your sister is getting married and expects you to bring a date to her wedding in two months, you panic, having not gone on so much as a coffee date with a guy in far too long. After all, being an Avenger doesn’t leave too much time for a life outside of work. So, when your best friend, none other than the James Buchanan Barnes himself, offers to pretend to be your boyfriend and plus one, how can you refuse? It seems like something that would come out of a movie. However, real life is never like the movies, and stories like this never go as planned.

Stepping Up by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend

When Steve can’t go with you to your cousin’s wedding, he sends Bucky in his place. What happens when more than one person assume you’re dating? 

Picture Perfect by @writingsoftheloser

When Steve asks his collegue to be his fake girlfriend, she accepts, thinking nothing could really go wrong. Then, she meets Steve’s best friend.

-> this is not bucky and reader fake dating but it’s one of my favorite fics so I included it!

Worst Idea Ever by @firefly-in-darkness

Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what's the worst that could happen?

Heart to a Gunfight by @lailannajacobs

You didn’t want to help Bucky Barnes make it through the party by pretending to be his fake girlfriend, after all, you had just met him. You also didn’t plan on the charade lasting as long as it did. 

am i more than you bargained for? by @morsmordre-writes

Bucky has an unwanted secret admirer, so naturally you pretend to be his girlfriend until it blows over. Will someone catch feelings? Will they be absolute idiots about it all? Will they live happily ever after? We may never know.

Almost Had Me Believing It by @tuiccim

An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes' wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

A Certain Romance by @wienerbarnes

With the threat of yet another bad date at the result of Sam Wilson’s meddling, Bucky’s desperate to find a solution. As are you, another victim to Sam’s failed matchmaking. The two of you come up with a genius plan: pretend to date each other in order to escape the poking and prying nose of the Falcon.

The Proposal by @toomanyrobins2

Y/N Arnaud is the liaison to the Avengers, but she’s also a French citizen. After a couple mistakes, her visa application is denied. Even though they can’t stand each other, Bucky offers to marry her in order to keep her visa status in the U.S. and avoid deportation.

[the-fic-locker]

Among the Rubble | Steve x chubby!Reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x chubby!reader Warnings: blood, scared children, violence, injured reader Summary: The Battle of New York started unexpectedly, especially for (y/n)'s elementary school class. The day was normal, then suddenly, you are tasked with getting 20 five-year-olds to safety with the Chitari attack sending bombs and debris falling everywhere. Good thing Captain America emerges from the rubble to help them get to safety. Word Count: 5.3K Author’s Note: I suck at summaries so hopefully that makes sense. This fic is not beta read, so I'm sure there are probably some grammatical errors and discrepancies I'm too lazy to find right now. I hope you enjoy it none-the-less!

Numerous tables with four chairs tucked beneath, all resting on a purple rug over the dingy gray carpet, each chair filled with elementary school students, all coloring in words on their papers that corresponded to the letter of the alphabet you were currently talking about, W. You knelt by the desk of a sweet but often confused girl, smiling kindly as you pointed to the word “whale” and explained why she should color it as well. She laughed at herself and began curling the Orca whale pink, shooting a warning glance to two boys whispering at the back table, both of who immediately quieted and continued coloring their W words. 

The entire room was mostly silent with the exception of your voice answering questions, the students coloring or changing out crayons, your laptop playing a quiet violin rendition of popular cartoon theme songs, and of course, the busy noise of the outside world as New York City carried on with the hustle and bustle of city life, something you’d learned to ignore, for the most part. You walked over to the window in the corner of the room to glance at the street below once you were satisfied each student was coloring in their last W word. Outside, it was busy, as usual, and you didn’t think you’d ever fully get accustomed to so many people walking on the sidewalks right outside the school. You’d only been in the city for about a year, and there was still so much to learn, especially as you didn’t get out very much. However, you knew enough about the city and its culture to know that the dozens of people running down the sidewalk in the same direction was not a normal thing. 

Shrugging and turning away from the window, you clicked the button in your hand to flip to the next slide word, X, when suddenly, the power in the room went out and the only thing lighting the darkness was the window you’d just been looking out not a moment later. Naturally, the students began getting anxious. Trying to keep them calm, you walked back over to your desk, bumping your hip on a table as you passed, but trying to ignore the pain as you wrenched open the desk drawer, fumbling blindly through the contents until your hand enclosed around what you were looking for. You pulled it from the contents of your desk and clicked the push button on the bottom, immediately the device lighting up. 

Gasps filled the room, and this time, they weren’t of fear. 

“Captain America!” small voices cheered and you sighed in relief. 

The battery-powered Captain America lamp had been expensive and very much an impulse buy you’d regretted almost immediately after you’d bought it, but your students loved it and while you didn’t get “Captain America” out very often (because it was too much of a distraction), it certainly came in handy today. 

“Listen up everyone, we’re all going to very slowly get out of our seats and walk over to the reading mat. Sit criss-cross apple sauce and I’ll tell you guys a story while we wait for the power to come back on,” you spoke in a soothing voice. 

Lit by the luminescent “Captain America” lamp, the 26 students each got up from their seats, most remembering to tuck their seat back under the table before cautiously making their way to the large circular rug with a reading elephant stitched in the fabric. They dropped down to sit on the rug, all crossing their legs as they were told and eagerly waiting for your story. While they were waiting, you grabbed your phone from your desk, checking for any emails from the school principal. Finding none, you assumed the outage was a temporary fluke, nothing to worry about. You walked over to where the students were seated and placed the Captain America lamp up on the bookshelf where they each could see it but no one could touch it (his leg could only be reglued back on so many times, afterall). I dropped into the white rocking chair I typically sat in during story time. 

“Alright, once upon a time, there was two raccoons hanging out in their small house up in the largest tree in the forest. Millie Raccoon was relaxing on the couch while Marvin Raccoon was reading a book at the table. Next door, the Squirrels were making a lot of noise opening their acorns for the winter. Marvin Raccoon paused his reading every time Slyvester or Susan Squirrel-”

Your story was cut off suddenly by the sound of glass shattering an odd, beeping metal ball crashed through the window. Immediately, shrieks and squeals erupted from the kids, many of them jumping up and running to the rocking chair. 

“It’s alright, shhh,” you soothed softly, petting their backs and getting up from their chair to investigate the weird object. 

It had rolled under one of the desks and was now beeping louder and more rapidly, a red light blinking on the top. It didn’t look like anything you’d ever seen, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was as the beeping grew even louder and more constant.

Urgently, you walked back to the students, trying to keep your pace leveled and mask the panic on your face. 

“Alright everyone, it has come time for us to leave. Beth,” you called the little red headed girls attention and she stepped closer, her knees shaking. They knew something was going on. You took the Captain America lamp off the bookshelf and handed it to her. “Hold onto him as we go outside, ok?” 

She nodded, taking the lamp from your hands and holding it close. You hoped the lamp would help ease their fear, but you didn’t have much more time to think about that as the beeping was nearly deafening now. 

“We’re going for an early recess, lets head to the stairwell!” you said, attempting to make your voice as excited as it usually was. 

No one cheered like they usually did. 

Beth with the lamp led the way to the door, you stepped in front of the table with the device under to shield them from it if it went off while they were walking out. Maisy, Beth’s best friend, opened the classroom door and the line of five year olds trickled out quickly, headed for the stairwell that led down to the playground. It seemed the only other class upstairs had the same idea and was taking their students down ahead of yours. Mrs. Turner, an older more seasoned teacher shot you a confused look that you returned with one of panic as you caught up with your students. 

“What’s-” Mrs. Turner didn’t have time to answer before a loud boom resonated from your room, sending a hard shockway through the floor and immediately catching student artwork outside your door on fire. The shockwave knocked several students off their feet, some falling down a few steps and their cries made your heart clench. 

“Something’s going on, and it isn’t good,” was all you could say to a now alarmed Mrs. Turner as you raced down the steps to pick up any fallen student and usher them quickly outside. They didn’t fight you as you herded them out the door. 

Your hopes that outside the building would be safer for the students was quickly dashed across the rocks as you saw chaos and suddenly, the running citizens down the street made sense as building tumbled over, others on fire, loud blasts of guns and bombs all over the place. 

“Ms. (y/n)!” several teary-eyed students shouted fearfully, most of them clumped together, huddling for support. 

This wasn’t a part of your training. None of this was something you ever thought was going to happen, but as you watched the wreckage unfold from all sides, you knew it was your job and duty to protect the kids at all cost. And you would lay down your life for theirs. Anyday. 

“Everyone, head to edge of the building,” I said as calmly as possible as the building next door blew up in flames as some weird alien thing zipping through the air flew away. 

Aliens weren’t real, and yet here they were, shooting down innocent people and blowing up buildings at random. They were merciless. You couldn’t help but wonder when would they turn their eyes on you and the children. 

You met your students by the building and wiped a few of their eyes on the edge of your dress, patting their heads as you huddled them together against the edge of the building, shielding them with your wide frame as best you could. 

“It’s going to be ok,” you soothed softly, hoping someone believed those words, even if that someone was you. 

“Ms. (y/n),” a small, trembling voice said. 

You looked down at Beth, who still held the Captain America lamp clutched in her arms. 

“Is Captain America going to save us?” she whimpered. 

This seemed to catch the attention of a few others, all who turned to look at you with the same hopeful eyes. With the world crashing around them, you didn’t know how to tell them the truth. That this was one small school would catch the eye of any of the superheros circling the town. The best hope you had was that Iron Man’s tech would pick up the presence of little kids and try to steer the aliens away from you. You couldn’t tell them that though. 

“Of course he is! He’s just busy fighting right now, but when he finishes that fight, he’s going to start making his way toward us,” you said, smiling at their faces. 

You could see the hope flash across their faces and that was enough to quiet some of their sobs as they waited for their favorite hero to show up and get them to safety. 

They all huddled back up against the building as you continued your story from earlier to try to distract them. 

“In annoyance, Marvin Raccoon slammed his book closed and scurried down the tree until he could jump over to the Squirrels tree. When he’d climbed up to their house, he knocked loudly on the door, but no one came to it, for the cracking of acorns was far too loud. He-” the story was cut off by a loud black for too close for comfort. Frantically, you grabbed two students that were close to the side of the blast, hauling them away from the edge just as the side exploded where they had been. Rubble crashed full force against you three and you fell to the ground, quickly hauling yourself above the students to protect them as best you could, brick and rock showering your body, your head pounding from where rock as smacked against it and something warm and wet trickled down the side of your face. 

“Ms. (y/n)! Several students shouted. 

You tried to shush them, fearing to alert anything that may have been nearby, but it was too late. Energy blasts began hitting the ground around you and you glanced back to see one of those ugly aliens holding a gun like you’d never seen before, firing in your direction. You hauled yourself up from the ground, ignoring the seering pain in your head as you gather your students around you, pushing them behind you to protect them as the alien grew closer, gun pointed in your direction, and this time, the aim was correct. 

Whatever the cost.

The gun fired and you stared at the blast headed straight for your chest, but it never struck. Instead, a tall man in a sturdy blue uniform wielding a circular shield blocked the path of the blast, the shield deflecting it before he threw the shield and in one swift move, decapitated the alien. 

“Captain America!” you heard several of your students whisper. “He really did come!”

The man in question turned around and your heart jumped naughtily in your chest. He looked just like he had in the 40’s based on the old cards your grandfather had given to you as a child. He must be wearing the same uniform too. 

“Are any of the kids hurt?” he asked, his voice stern but comforting at the samr time. 

You turned to look at them. The two boys you’d pulled from the side of the building before it had blown up had scratches on their arms, but everyone else looked fine. 

“I think they’re all ok,” you said. 

The man before you nodded and urgently strode toward you. 

“There’s shelter in the subways. I’ll get you there. Maybe some of their parents will be there too, most civilians have been taken down now,” he said. 

You nodded, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed to speak as you motioned for your students to follow him. 

He led the way off of school grounds, or what was left of the school, anyway. The trek to the subway was about a mile from the school, which typically wasn’t too far but today, dodging energy blasts from aliens and falling buildings, it felt like an eternity. 

Halfway along the trip, Zach’s foot got stuck in a pile of rubble just as another building was falling nearby. 

“Captain!” you shrieked, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and wrenching his foot from the rubble probably harder than you should have. By now, the super soldier had turned around, headed back to help you. The only thing you could think to do, to get Zach as far from the crash as possible as soon as possible was to throw him. 

“It’s ok, Zach,” you tried to soothe the boy, eyes still on the building that felt like it was falling in slow motion. “You’re gonna be ok,” you promised as you shifted him in your arms, hands against his ribs, bending your elbows for leverage. 

The Captain, who was now walking toward you, appeared confused as to what you were doing. The look quickly disappeared as you threw Zach away from you, sending him airborne in the man’s direction. The boy shrieked at the sudden move and continued yelping as Captain America’s arms closed around him.

“You’re ok,” you could hear him soothe, though you weren’t paying too much attention as pieces from the building had now begun falling. 

“Ms. (y/n)!” several small voices screamed. 

“Get them to the subway!” you begged the Captain as more rubble fell down around you, you dodging them as best you could. 

“No!” several shrieked. 

“Go!” you raised your voice, turning from the building back to the group.

You turned back to watch the building fall to find a heavy cinderblock falling straight toward you. You moved away as qyickly as possible, but you weren’t quick enough. It fell hard against your knee, your other buckling in pain and your body collapsed amongst the rubble. You heard screams from the children and you prayed Captain America would get the safely to the subway. More parts of the building rained down on you, a rock smacking against the side of your head where the brick had hit earlier, reopening the wound to allow more blood to spill down the side of your face, pooling around your eye that was now closed in pain. 

The building was growing closer and closer and there was no hope of getting out of this now. You just hoped it would crush you quickly, as painlessly as possible. You squeezed both eyes shut now, not wanting to watch the building fall on top of you even if you knew it was coming. Your body braced for pain, and you waited. 

You heard horrible screeching of metal on metal, the metallic sound of heavy materials shattering over it, and rock smacking against rock as debris fell around you, none of it hitting you. Slowly, you opened your eyes, fearful it was too early and the building was still falling, but like rain hitting an umbrella, falling around you but never hitting you direction. Shielding you was a man holding a shield over his own head whilst also protecting yours, taking the brunt of the building in a way that would have knocked any normal person off their feet. But he took it and as the final shell of the building fell, a giant mass of metal, his shield dented in the side like it was half-melted butter. He groaned at the weight bearing down on his shoulders and let out a yell as he shoved it to the side away from you both. 

With the last of the building down, the Captain let his shoulders drop, exhaustedly as he turned back to face you, his blue eyes finding yours determinedly. 

“No man left behind,” he panted. 

Painfully, you turned your head in the direction of your class and found them all sobbing, holding onto one another beneath a canopy of a half demolished building. 

“We have to move. Can you walk?” he asked after he’d regained his breath. 

You turned your attention back to him and shifted your injured knee. Pain shot through you but you tried to hide it. 

“I think so,” you gritted out, rolling onto your side slowly as the pain intensified. 

You were shaking, the pain in your knee and head had escalated drastically, so much so you could hardly focus on anything else as you tried to haul yourself onto your good knee. 

“Ok, I’m going to hold onto your left side, put all your weight on me and I’ll pull you up onto your good leg,” the man said, his feet crunching in the rubble as he grew closer. 

“No, you can’t support my weight. I’m too heavy,” you breathed, forcing your bad leg onto your foot and using a raised piece of building to try and push yourself up. 

“Did you not see me just hold up a building. I guarantee you aren’t too heavy,” he argued, his voice closer now. 

You opened your mouth to argue, but your mouth wouldn’t cooperated, too focused on the seering pain shooting through your knee that you were sure at least dislocated. 

“Stubborn,” you heard him hiss and a few seconds later, a muscular arm wrapped itself around your waist and in one swift move, he pulled you to your feet, supporting all of your weight like you weighed nothing. “Now let’s get these kids to the subway, we’ve got about two more blocks,” he said. 

Nodding, you tried to move away, but his arm around your waist held you locked to his side. 

“That knee is no good. You’re not getting anywhere on it. Your options are me supporting this side or me carrying you. You pick,” he spoke sternly and your heart fluttered a little more. 

“Fine,” you bit out, allowing him to support you as you hobbled on one leg over to where the students were standing. When they saw you, they surrounded you both, many small hands reaching out to touch you as if you would disappear if they didn’t. 

“Let’s move,” Captain America said, voice much softer than he’d spoken to you a few minutes earlier and this fact only made your heart stutter more, but you quietened it. This was no place to be fawning over Captain America. 

The rest of the trip down to the subway was mostly uneventful. Captain America had to fight off a few more aliens trying to impede our path, but it was nothing compared to the building earlier. They were handled swiftly and finally, the subway entrance came into view. 

You sent the students down first, quickly wanting them out of the mess that had become New York. As they were headed down, you turned back to survey the situation. Aliens on weird hover crafts were flying in all directions. A giant, green, mass of muscle was throwing cars at them while lightening fried more of them. There was a man on a distant building shooting exploding arrows and a man in a metal suit whizzing through the air shooting the alien things. He seemed to spot the Captain and blew in our direction as the last of the students dipped into the subway. 

“When you’re done playing husband, get her number, then we could really use your help,” the voice of Tony Stark spoke sarcastically. 

“These are the kids from the elementary school. Didn’t think we should have a bunch of kids running around. Now I’ve got to get her down here because she can’t walk,” Captain America shot back. 

Iron Man didn’t have time to respond before more alien creatures began firing in your direction again. He shot blasts at them and took back off to the sky, leading another group away from you. 

“I can make it down the rest on my own,” you ensured the Captain. 

Iron Man was right. The problem was no where close to resolved. 

“No you can’t and like Stark said, I haven’t gotten your number yet.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the statement but you didn’t have time think about it as he began leaded you down into the subway. 

Walking down the steps was proving to be more difficult than you’d wagered and your other knee was starting to buckle from the brunt of your weight. 

“I’m sorry” you wheezed exhaustedly. 

“It’s ok,” the man said. 

He paused on a step and removed his arm from your waist. Assuming he was letting you go here to get back up to the city, you gripped the railings for support and negotiated with your knees to carry you a little further. You didn’t have time to make them work, however, before they were swept out from under you, an arm bracing your back. You let out an alarmed shriek. 

“Relax. This is easier and your body is too tired to continue. I promise I won’t drop you.”

You wound an arm around his neck to help support yourself as he carried you down the rest of the steps into the vastly overcrowded subway. 

“Where are my kids?” you asked, looking around, growing frantic when you didn’t see them. 

“They’re over here,” the Captain said, walking in the direction he’d seen them. 

You looked away from him to where he was taking you and, sure enough, there they all were huddled against a wall sipping juice boxes with animal crackers around a woman whom you recognized to be one of your students’ parents. Said girl, Maisy, was sitting cradled in her mothers lap. 

“Ms. (y/n)!” a few of your students cheered as they saw you.

Captain America walked you right up to the group and looked around evidently for a wheelchair or something to put you in, but finding nothing, he had no choice but to sit you on the floor. 

“I’ll be fine here. Go save someone else,” you assured him. 

He nodded and gently lowered you down onto the floor, sliding his arms from beneath your legs. At the last moment, you wrapped both arms around his neck and he froze, shocked. You were shocked by what you were doing too, but you couldn’t stop now. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing your lips against his cheek. “Thank you for saving them, saving us.” 

When you let him go, he stood up fully, his cheeks pink and his feet shuffling awkwardly. For a moment, you thought you’d broken him before he turned to leave. 

“You’re welcome,” he said in the same gentle tone he’d used with the kids earlier. 

A moment later, he was gone, back out into the chaos. 

“Are you ok?” the voice of the mother asked. 

You turned around and nodded slowly. 

“Well you look like hell,” she continued, voice light. “Judgment impaired too, you realize you just kissed Captain America, right?” she teased. 

Suddenly the weight of what you’d done brought flames to your cheeks. 

“I can’t believe I did that,” you muttered. 

The mother scoffed and let out a small laugh. 

“You have literally been through hell today. Getting all these kids to safety in the middle of a literal war zone, he was your saving grace who, by the look of it, actually saved your life. It’s totally understandable!” she said. 

You nodded, nerves still settling heavy in your stomach with disbelief. You kissed Captain freaking America! 70 year old man freshly frozen since the 40’s!

“He probably thinks I’m the wackiest woman in the world,” you groaned. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! I’m sure he gets that all the time,” she offered. 

Despite her efforts to make you feel better, the feeling in the pit of your stomach only deepend. 

“Ms. (y/n),” the small voice of Beth called your attention and you snapped out of your worries over kissing Captain America to give her your full, undivided attention. 

“Yes sweetheart?”

The girl stood up from the group she had been huddled in. Her hair was now in a maddening tangle of red blossoming from the golden clip she’d been showing off to everyone previously that morning. Her blue and gray dress was now covered in dirt with a few rips up in the fabric. In her arms, she carried the Captain America lamp. It was no longer lit up and looked like it had a few cracks, but it was still in one piece. You smiled at her and held out your arms. She gladly waded through the sea of bodies and sat herself on your lap, clutching the lamp to her body.

“I wanna go home,” she whispered. 

You nodded and pet her tangled hair. You were sure that was all anybody wanted right now. 

~

It felt like hours later when the first responders used the intercom system to tell everyone that the battle was over. The “Avengers” had one, the aliens were gone. We could all come out and go to the hospital or home. By this time, all of your students had been located by their parents, the police had assisted with this and, it was deeply surprising how many parents were in the same subway entrance as you were with your kids. Only a few had to be taken to different entrances by police officers and you’d gotten confirmation that they’d made it. 

Upon the announcement, the crowd began to clear out with a rolling mutter, brave souls venturing to the top to see the mess the city had become, others being put on stretchers to be take to hospitals. You’d already waved off a few paramedics who had come to take you to a hospital. There were other, far more injured people that needed medical help much more than you did. You could always nurse your knee for a few days then go. 

One paramedic had charitably given you a pair of crutches to get around on and as carefully as you could, you hauled yourself up on them to hobble out of the subway and try to get home, if you still had one, that is. 

“All the kids get to their parents ok?” a voice behind you startled you. 

You jumped and dropped one of your crutches before turning around to see who the wise-guy spooking a crippled girl was. You eyes widened when you saw Captain America picking your crutch up off he ground. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

You shook your head and offered him a small smile, heart accelorating. 

“Were you looking for someone?” you asked, voice coming out shy and timid now that all of the adrenaline had been flushed from your system. 

“Yeah, you,” he said. Your heart jumped. 

“What does Captain America need with me?” you asked, swallowing. 

“Well for starters, it’s Steve, and secondly, I realized I never got your number. Plus what kind of gentleman makes a beautiful woman walk home alone?” he gave you a sweet grin with a half smirk. 

“You really don’t have to do that Cap- Steve, and I’m (y/n).” 

“Oh but I do. You seem stubborn. I bet you weren’t planning on seeing a doctor about that knee until the hospitals cleared out. Am I right?” he asked. 

You just stared at him in shock. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Well, it’s a good thing I happen to know a good doctor with some homevisit experience,” he said. 

Your jaw slacked, unable to retort. The man before you took that as an excuse to gather you back up in his arms, another small shriek leaving your lips. 

“Hey! I don’t know how things worked in the 40’s, but you can just go around picking girls up! Especially ones that are bound to literally break your back!” you argued, glaring at him. 

“Break my back?” he tossed you up in the air and caught you smoothly in the air as though to prove a point. You yelped and squirmed as he smoothly caught you again. 

“Hey!” 

“Now are you going to tell me where you live or are you going to make me guess? Because I promise, I’m not the best guesser.”

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest but gave him your address never the less. It wasn’t too far, eight blocks away, but you didn’t like the thought of your body weight baring down on Steve’s shoulders after he literally just saved your life a few hours ago. He didn’t complain though, keeping a steady pace the entire trip until he walked you straight up to your apartment doors (surprisingly, the apartment and most things surrounding were still standing and untouched). 

You unlocked the door while still in his arms and he carried you through the doorway. 

“Nice place,” he said before gently placing you down on the couch and snagging a throw pillow, placing it on the coffee table to elevate your leg. “Dr. Banner should be around later tonight, he has a few things to clean up first,” Steve said. 

You nodded and leaned into the cushions, letting your muscles relax as you slowly felt yourself succumb to the events of the day. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you sniffled. 

He sat down on the couch beside you and took one of your hands in his. 

“I wasn’t going to let you or any of those kids die,” he promised. 

You nodded, hot tears slowly rolling down your cheeks and he caressed your skin, brushing the tears away with his thumb. 

“I know this is horrible timing, emotions are high right now because we just got out of an intense fight, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to get dinner with me sometime? Or maybe go dancing if we can find somewhere?” he asked. 

Maybe it was your already raw emotions or the shock of the days events, but you found yourself giggling at his question, so much so that he almost looked confused and insecure, afraid you were laughing at him. 

“I promise there are places to dance around here, but I doubt they’d be anything like you’re used to,” you chuckled. 

This brought a smile to his lips. 

“I’d be happy to give it a chance if you’ll give this a chance. Will you?” he asked. 

You thought about it for a moment. A thousand questions were running through your head. Why you? Why now? How was this even possible? But despite all those questions, there was still a small voice in the back of your head saying ‘Captain America will come rescue us,’ and he did, some way, some how, he found us. Now he was finding just you, and that warmed a piece of your heart you thought had been frozen a long time ago. 

“Yes,” you whispered. 

A smile crossed features and he scooted a little closer. 

“How’s Saturday night sound?” he asked. “Assuming you can walk.”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, leaning closer to him. 

When you kissed his cheek this time, it wasn’t out of shock or delirium and you didn’t immediately regret it. This time, when your lips touched his cheek, you wished it were his lips, but that would come in time. You could be patient because he was worth being patient for.

[the-fic-locker]

Liking someone can be such a burden. One second, you’re fine. The second, you can’t get him out of your head. His voice. His smile. The sound of his laugh. And the aching loneliness when you can’t see him, hear him, talk to him… Long distance makes it worse. Seeing him once every few months when your heart stops pounding when someone mentions his name, but throbs when he texts back, and beats out of your chest when you finally see him again. When you think maybe your over your crush, but instead, it somehow seems to have grown stronger in the distance. And what makes things even worse? Knowing he probably doesn’t feel the same…

[the-fic-locker]

Forgotten Letters | June 26, 1943

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Warnings: mention of character death, WWII, Summary: Steve left for war and Y/N Barnes was left behind worrying about the best friend she’s in love with and her brother. Letters between the three keep her nerves calm, but she can’t bear the thought of losing them when something happens. Author’s Note: This is a series of short letters between Steve, Bucky, and the reader. Each part is a different letter. This fic takes place during Captain America: The First Avenger.

Dear Steve, 

I can’t believe you!! You wait to tell me all of that TWO DAYS before you’re set to undergo the procedure!!! I had no time to talk you out of it!! I know that was your plan, but that is completely ridiculous! I can’t believe you would do that!! What did you even know about this “project”? Why were you the person they wanted? What was this supposed to do to you? How long it takes? The chances of survival? Do you know the answers to any of those questions? Honestly Steven, I can’t believe you wouldn’t at least tell me what was going on before it happened so I may have had a chance to talk to you about it? I honestly can’t even believe you right now! Now I have to wait even more anxiously, hoping you didn’t DIE from a procedure you knew little about!! And besides all that, what kind of changes was this project supposed to make? Making you less sickly is one thing, but “Super Soldier” sounds like something entirely different! Did you let this “Peggy” chick talk you into doing some kind of enhancement bull so that she’d find you attractive? Because damn Steve, you ARE attractive!! Even if you can’t open your own eyes to see it!! Gah! I am so mad right now!! How am I even supposed to write a non-angry letter after reading yours! I just can’t… 

You make me so angry sometimes and I almost want to tell you that I’m going to break into your apartment and break everything! But we both know I’d be lying! Yes, I’ll work on bringing all of your stupid stuff to my apartment when the lease clears you overgrown bag of beautiful weeds! I can’t even insult you properly! You had better send me a letter AS SOON as you get this one, but I swear, if you don’t, I’m going to figure out exactly where you are, fly out there, and drag you all the way back home by your EAR!! Just like Mrs. Rogers used to do!!Christ what made you agree to something like that! I’m appalled! And I’m sure when James gets my letter, he’s going to be just as appalled! He might side with me for once!

I’m sorry this letter is short, but you don’t deserve a long one! I love you you dumb oaf! And you better come home!

Love,

A very angry Y/N

[the-fic-locker]

Forgotten Letters | June 10, 1943

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Warnings: mention of character death, WWII, Summary: Steve left for war and Y/N Barnes was left behind worrying about the best friend she’s in love with and her brother. Letters between the three keep her nerves calm, but she can’t bear the thought of losing them when something happens. Author’s Note: This is a series of short letters between Steve, Bucky, and the reader. Each part is a different letter. This fic takes place during Captain America: The First Avenger.

Dear Y/N,

I miss you too. It isn’t the same without getting up and coming into the tea shop or staying the night at your house and getting woken up by Duncan instead of a trumpet. But regardless, I’m alright. The commander definitely doesn’t make things easy on me, but I’m learning. I can feel myself getting stronger. I’ve only had a couple asthma attacks since I’ve been here and they only threatened to send me home on the last one, but Dr. Erskine was quick to convince them differently. He keeps saying they need me. It’s comforting, but I’m the runt of the bunch. Everyone else is brutishly strong. I’m even smaller than our second in command, Agent Peggy Carter! 

Speaking of Peggy, she’s a really nice girl… dame… woman! She doesn’t pick on me like the commander does, but I don’t know why. Maybe she sees something else in me. Maybe she sees the same thing you see in me! I don’t get how we became such good friends either! But that’s beside the point. 

Bottom line, I’m well and alive. I really don’t see them sending me out to fight Nazi’s any time soon. All any of us have been doing is training, which sure, it’s a good thing, but there are still people dying! Bucky’s group isn’t doing much better though, last time I heard anything. Then, of course, I’m sure you already know that. I’m sure you probably know more about the two of us than we know about each other, especially if you’re sending him letters too. 

On the topic of the letters, if Howard Stark left that money in the tip jar, I’m sure he knew what he was doing. I wouldn’t stress too much about not spending it to give it back to him. Even if he didn’t realize how much was there, if he still hasn’t come back for it, he isn’t missing it. However, do not, and I repeat, do not use all that money to send letters to Bucky and I! Use it to buy good food or even maybe as a downpayment on an apartment. I know you’re worried about your Nan, but it’s not like you’re not going to see her at all, and she’s running you crazy having you run the shop and still come home early enough to make her dinner and put her to bed. She isn’t helpless! She isn’t really even that old! And she’s in good health, unless something has changed since I left. Don’t let her continue to use you. Please. I don’t want to come home and find my best friend six feet under before me because her Nan stressed her out to the point of exhaustion. 

I’m sorry the letter is short. I enjoyed reading yours and I hope to read more. They bring me comfort and a sense of companionship, even though we’re not still goofing off in the tea shop. I hope I’ll be able to write a longer letter next time, but right now, I’ve got troop mates walking around and three have asked if I’m writing to a girl. If I say yes, they’re likely to tear up the letter and it’ll take me even longer to respond. 

I’ll keep you in the loop about my health and I promise not to be too reckless, for you. I’d hate for you to kill me if I die. I love you too, Y/N. I can’t wait to come back home and see my best friend again. 

Until my next letter, Steve

[the-fic-locker]

Forgotten Letters | June 20, 1943

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Warnings: mention of character death, WWII, Summary: Steve left for war and Y/N Barnes was left behind worrying about the best friend she’s in love with and her brother. Letters between the three keep her nerves calm, but she can’t bear the thought of losing them when something happens. Author’s Note: This is a series of short letters between Steve, Bucky, and the reader. Each part is a different letter. This fic takes place during Captain America: The First Avenger.

Dear Y/N,

I understand your worry, but I promise, I’m being careful. I know I don’t have the best reputation at knowing who to trust, but I really believe Dr. Erskine and Peggy both have good intentions. They’ve both done nothing but help me. Making sure I don’t have asthma attacks and keeping me out of the line of fire from Hodge and the other troop members that are, well, bullies. Now, I will say, I have agreed to help Dr. Erskine out with a little experiment. He calls it the Super Soldier project. I can’t go into a lot of details, but if it works out, I’ll be a changed man and all of my sickly complications should be, for the most part, over. I have to go through a whole procedure to undergo the project, but I’ve been assured that it’s safe, mostly anyway. 

I am happy to hear that you’re moving out! It’s not like you to take my suggestions, but I am very happy to hear that you’re taking this one. Your Nan takes advantage of you. No one deserves that! Hopefully, you’ll be reading this letter in your new apartment! And the possibility of living together will definitely give me ambition to get back home! I doubt Mrs. Crane will wait for me to return before releasing my apartment. We both know she isn’t a very patient woman. In fact, perhaps after you move in, you can maybe take some of my more valuable items back to your apartment? I know it’s a lot to ask, but, like I said, we both know how Mrs. Crane gets and if the plan is to live together after the war, it could make everything easier! Though, I am sorry to ask so much of you, and you obviously don’t have to if you are against it. I understand!

I suppose as I reach the bottom of the page I should tell you a couple of things that I’m sure you won’t like. First, I may have ignored your earlier request. It wasn’t completely intentional. I did it with sound mind, but it was a reflex. There was a grenade. A dummy grenade, though I didn’t know that at the time. I jumped on top of it and waiting. I said goodbye to you and Bucky in my brain before I realized it was fake and that’s when the official request was sent. Apparently, Dr. Erskine was waiting for the commander to sign off on the Super Soldier project with me, but the grenade stunt sealed the deal. 

On that same note, I’ll be undergoing the project in two days so, by the time you’re reading this, I’ll have already undergone the procedure. Please don’t be mad at me for this decision. I hope you hear from you soon and I promise I’ll write as quickly as I can so you know I’m alright. 

Love,

Your bestest friend, Steve.

[the-fic-locker]

Forgotten Letters | June 14, 1943

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Warnings: mention of character death, WWII, Summary: Steve left for war and Y/N Barnes was left behind worrying about the best friend she’s in love with and her brother. Letters between the three keep her nerves calm, but she can’t bear the thought of losing them when something happens. Author’s Note: This is a series of short letters between Steve, Bucky, and the reader. Each part is a different letter. This fic takes place during Captain America: The First Avenger.

Dear Steve,

I can’t describe into words how happy I was when your letter arrived. I had been waiting for the post every day since I sent my first letter. I know that’s an odd thing to say, and James is definitely going to tease me about it when I receive his next letter, but I couldn’t help it. I’m worried about you. And not in the way you’re probably thinking! I’m just as worried about James! You’re my boys! I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you! But Steve, I really don’t know how I’d cope if I lost you. So no… running into heavy gunfire unprotected or jumping on top of grenades like I know you would! I need you to come home. I need to hug you again. 

I am sorry for being so negative. I know you don’t like it, but the dreams are back, and this time, they’re far more real than you getting hit by a car or murdered in the back of an alley. Now, you’re not here where I can come to your house at 2am when I can’t sleep and that is starting to haunt me. But regardless, I don’t want the entirety of this letter to be selfish. 

I’m glad to hear you’ve made a friend! Peggy sounds nice! Does she train with you? Know anything about her? There aren’t many women allowed in the war, is she a soldier or a nurse? You don’t hear of female soldiers very often. Though you did call her “agent,” is she some sort of spy? I only ask because, well, you know how some people can be. Two-faced. Pretending to be transparent when, in reality, they are a color that distracts from their true color. Like black concealing orange. I don’t want to see you getting hurt. Make sure you can really trust her before you let yourself get too caught up in a one-sided friendship. 

Changing the subject, however, this doctor, are you sure you can trust him? Does it strike you odd that every other doctor in the city declined your request to enter the war, but not this man? That sounds fishy to me Steve, and I didn’t have the chance before you left to tell you. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, though I’m sure it sounds that way. I just don’t want you getting hurt. I apologize for my protective nature, but you know it’s not something I can help. 

On a lighter note, Mr. Stark never came back to the shop. It’s been long enough now that I assume you’re right. He isn’t coming back. And if he does, I’ll explain the situation. He seemed nice enough to understand. I did go out and buy plenty of ink and paper to write to you and James, but I promise, I also got good food! Actually, I got plenty of food to stock in the new refrigerator in the new apartment I’m working on leasing. It isn’t a done deal, but the owners are very nice and we’re waiting for the lease to open before they fully accept my offer. Nan isn’t happy, of course, but you’re right. I’ve gotta get out of that place. Plus, the apartment I’m working on leasing is a two bedroom apartment! Maybe when you come home, we can live together! Just like we always planned!

Be safe Steve, and write me again so I know you’re being safe! I love you and I will continue waiting by the post for your letter. I’ll continue counting down the days until you come home. Win the war quickly. 

Lot’s of Love,

Y/N

[the-fic-locker]

Fucked Up | Bucky x Steve x Reader, Platonic!Tony x Reader (Angst, mild Fluff)

Category: Angst, mild Fluff (Suggested) Age: 16+ Trigger Warnings: Arguing, mentions of abusive past (parents), physical violence, PTSD, panic attack Ship: Bucky x Steve x Reader, Platonic!Tony x Reader Summary: Tony Yells At Reader, Triggering Her PTSD Of An Abusive Past Request: “I hope you’re doing well and I hope I don’t add to a huge list of requests! if I do, feel free to ignore this request 😘 Stucky x reader where reader has certain triggers from past trauma and men yelling at her is one of them. Tony gets really angry at her after a mission and Stucky doesn’t like it at all because they know she’s going to be scared and cry. She does and suddenly she’s really small and Tony frightens her as he steps towards her. Protective!Stucky. thank you 🥰🥰” Contains Spoilers for: N/A Word Count: 3,474

—

The tension that lingered in the air on the jet home was nothing new to any of the team.

Almost everyone has been on the receiving end of the man who’s bubbling with anger, (Y/N) included, but here she is again.

She understands that she went against the plan but it worked out in their favour - she got extra information. Did she put her life at risk while getting it? Yes. But all of their lives were at risk the entire time so why was it any different? Unnecessary danger. That’s what Tony calls it.

Who gives a shit? Danger is danger regardless.

Keep reading

[the-fic-locker]

Forgotten Letters | June 10, 1943

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Warnings: mention of character death, WWII, Summary: Steve left for war and Y/N Barnes was left behind worrying about the best friend she’s in love with and her brother. Letters between the three keep her nerves calm, but she can’t bear the thought of losing them when something happens. Author’s Note: This is a series of short letters between Steve, Bucky, and the reader. Each part is a different letter. This fic takes place during Captain America: The First Avenger.

Dear Y/N,

I miss you too. It isn’t the same without getting up and coming into the tea shop or staying the night at your house and getting woken up by Duncan instead of a trumpet. But regardless, I’m alright. The commander definitely doesn’t make things easy on me, but I’m learning. I can feel myself getting stronger. I’ve only had a couple asthma attacks since I’ve been here and they only threatened to send me home on the last one, but Dr. Erskine was quick to convince them differently. He keeps saying they need me. It’s comforting, but I’m the runt of the bunch. Everyone else is brutishly strong. I’m even smaller than our second in command, Agent Peggy Carter! 

Speaking of Peggy, she’s a really nice girl… dame… woman! She doesn’t pick on me like the commander does, but I don’t know why. Maybe she sees something else in me. Maybe she sees the same thing you see in me! I don’t get how we became such good friends either! But that’s beside the point. 

Bottom line, I’m well and alive. I really don’t see them sending me out to fight Nazi’s any time soon. All any of us have been doing is training, which sure, it’s a good thing, but there are still people dying! Bucky’s group isn’t doing much better though, last time I heard anything. Then, of course, I’m sure you already know that. I’m sure you probably know more about the two of us than we know about each other, especially if you’re sending him letters too. 

On the topic of the letters, if Howard Stark left that money in the tip jar, I’m sure he knew what he was doing. I wouldn’t stress too much about not spending it to give it back to him. Even if he didn’t realize how much was there, if he still hasn’t come back for it, he isn’t missing it. However, do not, and I repeat, do not use all that money to send letters to Bucky and I! Use it to buy good food or even maybe as a downpayment on an apartment. I know you’re worried about your Nan, but it’s not like you’re not going to see her at all, and she’s running you crazy having you run the shop and still come home early enough to make her dinner and put her to bed. She isn’t helpless! She isn’t really even that old! And she’s in good health, unless something has changed since I left. Don’t let her continue to use you. Please. I don’t want to come home and find my best friend six feet under before me because her Nan stressed her out to the point of exhaustion. 

I’m sorry the letter is short. I enjoyed reading yours and I hope to read more. They bring me comfort and a sense of companionship, even though we’re not still goofing off in the tea shop. I hope I’ll be able to write a longer letter next time, but right now, I’ve got troop mates walking around and three have asked if I’m writing to a girl. If I say yes, they’re likely to tear up the letter and it’ll take me even longer to respond. 

I’ll keep you in the loop about my health and I promise not to be too reckless, for you. I’d hate for you to kill me if I die. I love you too, Y/N. I can’t wait to come back home and see my best friend again. 

Until my next letter, Steve

[the-fic-locker]

Forgotten Letters | June 5, 1943

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Warnings: mention of character death, WWII, Summary: Steve left for war and Y/N Barnes was left behind worrying about the best friend she's in love with and her brother. Letters between the three keep her nerves calm, but she can't bear the thought of losing them when something happens. Author's Note: This is a series of short letters between Steve, Bucky, and the reader. Each part is a different letter. This fic takes place during Captain America: The First Avenger.

Dear Steve, 

Things aren’t the same here without you. The tea shop has been empty without our favorite customer. No one has the time for tea anymore anyway. Mostly, we see those same rich stiffs who are too up their own butts to bother with a “please” or a “thank you” rather than barking orders. You’ll never believe who came in yesterday though! Howard Stark! As in the inventor we saw at the fair right before you left! 

I was in the process of cleaning up the counters when he came in! I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked up and saw him! I nearly forgot to ask what he wanted to order. Howard Stark! In my Nan’s little shop! 

He ordered that expensive tea we hardly ever sell and I kept apologizing for taking so long. Like I said, I was in the middle of washing the counters, so the cups and other equipment were in the water waiting to be washed. He was patient though. He stood at the counter and talked to me while I was washing the dishes. I didn’t think there was much to talk about, honestly. I don’t understand the mechanics of inventions, but I can appreciate them. He was telling me about some new things he’s working on and they made sense as he was talking! 

We talked about other things too though. I made him his tea and expected him to leave, but he sat at the bar and sipped his tea while we talked. He was very polite. I felt a little bad when we got on the subject of the war because I couldn’t stop myself from telling him all about you. My best friend! Guy who stopped at nothing to go off to war even when the world was telling you no. I told him how proud I was of you and how much I missed you. He was very empathetic. Even offering to give me money for stamps so I could write to you more often (I declined the offer. It was too much to ask of a patron). 

Before I even realized it, the sun was setting and it was time to close the shop. I was sad to usher him out, especially after such splendid conversations, but Nan was expecting me back home and well, you know how she gets when she’s hungry. So he paid and slipped some money into the tip jar. I didn’t want to be rude and look while he was standing there, so when I locked the door behind him and began shutting off the lights, I looked. Steve, he left me a hundred dollars in small bills.I ran out of the shop to call after him, to thank him or ask him if he meant to leave that much (I wasn’t sure which), but he was already gone. I felt really bad, so I’m going to hold onto the majority of it and hope he comes back so I can give it back to him. It’s too much!  Though, I must admit, I used a little of it to buy fresh paper and ink and a pack of stamps. I couldn’t not send you a letter, of course! 

Writing this letter has just reminded me of how much I miss you. I hope the ink doesn’t smudge too much, but if it does, don’t worry, I’m not crying over you! I got something in my eye!

I hope you are well in the war. They know about your asthma and lung problems right? I swear, I still can’t believe that the doctor agreed to sign your papers! I’m glad you’re living your dream but Steve, please be careful. Don’t push yourself too far, and for goodness sake, don’t pick a fight again! James is in an entirely different division! He can’t save you and I don’t want you sent home in a box! Especially not from being beaten to death by your own squadmates!

I know I must sound horribly cynical. I’m worried for you. Leaving so last minute… I didn’t even get to give you a proper goodbye send off like we did for James! I guess we’ll just have to celebrate when you both come home. So you better come home!

I have so much more to say, but I’m running out of room. I have to try and ration the paper, I don't want to have to use more of Mr. Stark’s money…

Please be safe and write soon so I know you’re ok. I love you Stevie and I better get to see you again, alive. Don’t do anything stupid. (Maybe I should put that same statement in James’ letter too…). I look forward to your response letter. Please don’t make me wait too long. You know I worry. Hear from you soon!

Love,  Y/N