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brattyfics · 3 years

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family day | writer wednesday

Pairing: Ezekiel Reyes x Black!OFC [Lena] Summary: Lena comes to the clubhouse to meet the guys. Tags: Angsty Fluff, Unresolved Feelings. Word Count: 1.5k

“Come by the clubhouse this weekend. We’re having a cookout. A family day.”

Lena tutted her skepticism while Ezekiel spoke. She had only caught glimpses of the Mayans’ gatherings, parties, whatever, but nothing about them screamed family-friendly. “Pops and Angel will be there.” She wanted to giggle at him using his father and brother as bargaining chips, but his voice had gotten more desperate with each word until he was almost pleading. She pouted on the other end of the line. He wasn’t playing fair.

“And most importantly...you?” Lena teased. He smiled. She could hear it in his tone. “Yeah. I’ll be there too. You?” She let out a dramatic sigh as if he were pulling her leg, but she had already made up her mind.

Since she and Ezekiel reconnected, Lena found herself in Santo Padre every other weekend. Usually, she arrived early on Saturday mornings, and Ezekiel held her close on his pull-out bed (which was surprisingly comfy considering). When they finally awoke for the day, he took her on little adventures. It was always something sweet and exciting-- an intimate ride on the back of his bike to somewhere beautiful. They revisited the beach, this time during the day. He chased her around in the sand, tickled her from behind in the salty water. Lena was able to stop and relax, see things she would never have been able to otherwise. It was so easy to get lost in the hustle and bustle of city living. She missed the simplistic beauty of nature.

Other times, he took her places to remind her of the past. The Carnival they frequented as teenagers, to the old ice cream parlor down the street from his dad’s shop. They spent all the time they could together, and when Ezekiel was busy with club business, she spent the time with her parents, helping them out around the house with whatever she could. There wasn’t much to do, there had never been, but something about it was enjoyable. Being in Santo Padre felt like stepping into a time machine. Nothing had changed. It was psychological warfare on Ezekiel’s part, but Lena never called him out on it. So, she relented, the way she always did when it came to him. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

True to her word, Lena arrived at the Mayans clubhouse around noon, several homemade cakes in tow. Ezekiel met her outside as she was getting out of the car. “I didn’t know you still baked.” It had been a hobby of hers in high school, something inexpensive and fun to do while stuck in the house. Many things about her had changed, but some hadn’t. The thought made him smile. Maybe there was more hope for them than she thought after all.

“I told you, you didn’t have to bring anything.”

“I know, but I don’t like to show up places empty-handed. Can you take this, please? I need to get the other boxes out of the car still.” Ezekiel scooped the cardboard cake box from her. She kissed his cheek in thanks. It was out of instinct, an old habit, but he froze.

“What, I can’t kiss you now?” Yes, they had been sleeping together. Quite often, actually. And they had been going out on what most people would call dates, but they hadn’t been kissing. Not really. It would make what they were doing real. Lena avoided it as much as possible to protect herself. But the lines had started to blur, and she couldn’t distinguish the nostalgia from her real feelings. She would have to make a decision soon.

Ezekiel took advantage of her being distracted, pushing forward until her back rested against the closed car door. He sat the cake box on top of the car. “You can kiss me as much as you want. I just prefer you do it...” His lips brushed against hers. “...here.” She couldn’t think about anything when he kissed her like that. Nothing but him, the way he tasted on her tongue, what he felt like up against her. She closed her eyes tight and tried to memorize it all, kissing him with just as much desperation.

“Damn, Prospect, I know you’ve been out of the game awhile, but you should at least get the lady inside the trailer first!”

And then Angel fucking Reyes had to go and ruin it.

Ezekiel broke the kiss with a groan, giving his older brother a scalding look over his shoulder. But Angel didn’t care about things like not interrupting people or being polite, so he made his way over to them anyway, clapping his baby brother on the back. “Give her some room, bro.” He tested his luck, elbowing Ezekiel to the side. He filled the space, pulling Lena into a tight hug before his brother could retaliate.

“Are you really using me as a shield right now?” She complained, arms loosely hanging at her sides.

“Yes. Now, hug me back.” Angel would hold onto her until she did what he wanted. She knew that for a fact, so she brought her arms up to wrap around his midsection. “It’s good to see you.” He mumbled into her hair. “You too.” And she meant it, squeezing him back before letting go.

“Ooh. What’s this?” He cajoled when his eyes caught sight of the box.

“Cake.” Ezekiel answered for him dryly.

Angel snorted, rolling his eyes. “Obviously, Boy Scout. What kind is it, Lena?” She glanced over her shoulder at it, to be sure. “It’s vanilla cake with buttercream icing.”

“Vanilla? Aww, man. Where’s the chocolate? You know that’s my favorite.” EZ cut his brother’s complaining short. “You don’t like it, don’t eat it.”

“Shut up.” Two words from Angel was all it took for the two of them to start bickering. Angel grabbed for his brother’s thick neck, trying and failing to pull him into a chokehold. Ezekiel got the upper hand, and then the two of them were grappling, kicking up red dust in the process while they talked shit to each other. Lena sighed and stepped out of their way. “I see nothing’s changed.”

The sound of their scuffle gathered the attention of the other Mayans. Coco, who Lena thought she recognized as Angel’s friend, was among them. The shortest man of the group headed the bunch, kissing his teeth when he saw the fuss was just Angel and Ezekiel. Again.

“Break it up!”

Lena flinched, and she wasn’t even doing anything wrong! The brothers broke apart immediately, then sat down in the dirt, out of breath and wearing sheepish expressions. They were children. Lena refrained from the “If Marisol were here...” speech she so desperately wanted to give, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Hi, querida. You must be Lena.” The man introduced himself as Bishop, taking her hand to kiss.

“Oh, yes. Hi.” She squeaked out, suddenly shy. Ezekiel stood, grabbing hold of her waist, and took over the introductions. “Guys, Lena. Lena, this is...” He went down the line one by one, and she smiled politely and nodded along. She was flattered that they already seemed to be familiar with her. Ezekiel had to run around talking about her all day. The thought made her heart ache.

Bishop directed the guys to help her with the rest of the stuff. Tranq balanced a cake in each hand, Coco taking the bag with the cake cutters and plastic forks. Angel was pleased to learn that one of them had chocolate-flavored icing with yellow cake on the inside, just the way he liked it.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Bishop told her with a smile, patting her hand one final time. “Nice to meet you too.” She called after him while Ezekiel muttered something under his breath in a grumpy tone.

Lena got to know their guys and their families. She learned she had met Coco before, and she got to meet his teenage daughter, Letty. She was sweet in an adorable, hissing cat sort of way. Lena teased Ezekiel about Letty having a little crush on him, but he denied it. Swore Letty just appreciated him for helping her out with something. He wouldn’t elaborate on what the something was.

“I get it now.” Lena told him when they found themselves alone by the abandoned fire pit. She sat on the wooden bench next to him, halfway into his lap, a warm flannel blanket on top of them. He watched her closely. “You do?”

“Yeah. You have a place here. Community. Family. It’s nice.” They had played a card game earlier. The guys traded friendly insults across the table, but it was all out of love. She felt it.

“Mhm.” He looked down and cleared his throat. “Does that change anything? For you?” Lena considered it, drowning in the hopefulness in his hazel eyes. How could she tell him no? Say goodbye forever to those eyes?

“I don’t know. I mean, I’m not sure what I was expecting. Everyone’s so nice. Well, except Angel, but I already knew that.” Ezekiel smirked. “Yeah, he was born an ass.” He brought the cold beer bottle to his lips to sip, and then he got quiet.

“Do you think you’d like to come to another?”

Lena nodded. “Yeah, I think I would.”

Notes: Inspired by this week's prompt by @autumnleaves1991-blog. Card game is only briefly mentioned, but what can I say, I followed the muse?

@thesandbeneathmytoes This is for you. I’m slowly pulling it together. ❤️

General Taglist:

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus @sparklemichele @luckyharley1903 @thesandbeneathmytoes

#writer wednesday #mayans mc #ez reyes x oc #ezekiel reyes x oc #Ezekiel Reyes x black!oc

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whump-angst-fluff-repeat · 3 years

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Hey cutie!! All your WIPs sound so so amazing 😭😭 Can you tell me more about "Of puppy eyes and potatoes", "One day I'll fly away" and "Til the morning comes"?? Thanks!!! YOU'RE INCREDIBLE!!!!! <33 p.s. those 5+1 fics sound so awesome!!

AAAAAAAH thank you so much!! ilu

Ok SO “Of puppy eyes and potatoes.”

Honestly I have no clue where I got the idea for this one, it just popped into my head out of nowhere one day. I actually have it pretty much finished, there are just a few little parts that I don’t love and I wanna fix. Also the genre is just not my forte, I’m better at like whump and angst than fluff and humor. BUT essentially it’s a one-shot where Loki runs into Peter who’s just come home from patrol with a bullet in his leg. Cue Loki having to kinda patch him up and they both have to avoid Tony’s suspicion. Here’s a snippet:

Peter sits there on a chair, left leg crossed over the right one, frozen in the act of pulling his suit off of his foot. The window is letting in a breeze behind him and it’s clear he’s just come in from patrolling as Spider-Man.

They’re both paused, Peter looking like a deer in the headlights, and Loki’s eyes drop to what is automatically drawing his attention - the boy’s leg, dripping with blood.

Loki’s eyebrows raise as he meets Peter’s eyes again, having half a mind to call Stark then and there - he doesn’t care what they say, that man is most definitely the boy’s father, adopted or surrogate or whatever.

Peter seems to read his intentions on his face and immediately his hands shoot up, tensed, as if with the gesture he can bind Loki in place. “Don’t tell Mister Stark!”

So yeah, this is out of my comfort zone and idk if I did Loki’s voice right at all and I feel like it needs more of something -humor maybe- to be a good story.

“One Day I’ll Fly Away”: Oosh ok so I wasn’t positive if I should put this on here bc I actually haven’t written anything except a couple attempts at a beginning. But I do have several specific parts pretty well planned out. Basically I heard the song “One Day I’ll Fly Away” from Moulin Rouge, saw the clip, and made up my own story to go along, knowing absolutely nothing about the film lol, so don’t judge. It’s sorta got a reverse-Greatest Showman feel? Peter is an orphan who was taken in by Norman Osborn as a child and, y’know, injected with spider DNA. Osborn works with the circus and trained Peter to become the Amazing Spider-Man, the main attraction for Osborn’s show. Peter’s a teenager now and longs to get away (Osborn calls him his son but is abusive and everything), and when Tony comes to see the show they connect. I’m trying to figure out how and why exactly they connect, if it might possibly be a platonic soulmates au, but I’d rather that not be the focus of the story. That whole relationship development part is what I’m really stuck on. But I’ve got other scenes detailed with their meeting and then when Peter makes the choice to leave and be adopted by Tony, the pushback from Osborn and other members of the circus, etc.

So I love the idea and the plans I have, I just don’t know how to write it lol.

“Til the morning comes” Ok I really love my whole idea for this one but I got stuck actually writing after a chapter or two. Harley and Peter get kidnapped together, Harley taken just because he was with Peter. This is after Endgame (but not compliant ofc), Tony introduced them to each other and they’re attending MIT together. No slash fyi, I just really like a soft brotherly relationship. :) Their captors experiment on Peter but mostly leave Harley alone, and Harley tries to patch Peter up and help him when he comes back from whatever experiments *cough*torture*cough* they’ve done. Your basic torture fic except I’m trying out Harley being the caretaker instead of Tony. :) Don’t feel like I’m explaining it great, but I love what I have planned for the ending, I just needta get there.

I don’t feel like I have a great snippet as an example of the fic in general, but here’s a bit I’ve written anyway:

Harley swears, sitting up slowly and rubbing at his face. He gazes around the cell in much the same manner Peter had. “Ah, I see we’ve got the luxury suite. Working toilet and everything.”

“Well I haven’t tested it yet, so… I’m not sure how working,” Peter admits.

Harley smirks lightly before his face solemnifies a little. “What happened? Last I remember, we were walking to the Landau, and then…”

“Tranquilizer darts,” Peter supplies. “They got you with one and you were out.”

“Dang. Tranqs. That’s actually… pretty awesome.”

Peter laughs and shakes his head. “You sound just like Ned.”

Harley grins at him. “Did they tranq you too?”

“Yeah. Took four to put me down.”

“Stupid superpowers,” Harley mutters.

What do you think? Thanks so much for asking and hope you don’t mind how long this is lol! I’m always happy to provide even more details if you’d like but I didn’t wanna make this way too long. :)

#my writing #asks

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cagestark · 4 years

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Tony/ofc pretty please? Iron Man helps out after an animal breakout at the Bronx Zoo, and a young zookeeper there wants to thank him for his services? ~@ironspiderstarker

I had so much fun, even if I know nothing about zookeeping or animals. Hope you can suspend your disbelief and enjoy this PWP!

About this: Tony/unnamed, undescribed OFC. Oral. 2.4 k. Nff. -

In her office is their first face to face meeting.

(Sure, she’d been among the six other employees called in at three in the morning during the worst snow-storm New York City had seen in the last ten years. They’d all met trundled up in their coats and hats and scarves and boots outside the gates, shivering when Iron-Man—Iron-Man! she thought to herself, breathless—appeared like a star in the sky, landing in front of them in a flash of burning thrusters.

But then, when they’d met, it had been face-to-faceplate, and everyone (herself included) had been far more concerned about Lyuba.)

“Cat’s out of the bag, huh?” the suit had said, voice more mechanical than human. “Or cage, should I say. That’s a hell of a malfunction in your security system. Why can’t you tranq her?”

“She’s pregnant,” another employee said. “Twin, male cubs. There are more people in a single city block here than there are Siberian Tigers left in the entire world—we can’t risk causing her or the pregnancy any harm.”

“And we can’t risk our funding by reporting this,” someone muttered under their breath.

“I don’t know if you’ve seen the news, but I usually wrangle humans. Bad guys, specifically. I don’t think I’m qualified to cat-sit.”

He had been persuaded, though. They had huddled around each other watching on the surveillance cameras as he approached the tiger without fear, coaxing her back to the enclosure. They’d all let out cheers, breathless with relief. One after one, they had trickled out until only you remained in the office, watching over footage of Lyuba roaming the zoo. Then rewatching the footage of Iron-man shooing her along like a sheep-dog might his flock.

When the knock comes, she calls out a distracted, Come in, without thinking about how any other employee wouldn’t have bothered knocking. When she looks up from the footage, Tony Stark is standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. A masked madman might have shocked her less—though it certainly wouldn’t have made her so breathless.

The closest she’s ever been to a celebrity is walking past Matt Damon once two Christmas Eves ago. This kind of close contact is far different. Tony Stark is far different. He looks at her with the most clever eyes she’s ever seen. She can’t help but feel like he sees through her, into her. When he smiles, her knees press together underneath the desk. He looks even more handsome in person than on television.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says, not looking sorry in the slightest. “I left my suit at the curb and running. But I figured this would only take a minute.”

“I—sorry?”

He points to the computer you’re sitting at. “Whatever malfunctioned in your security system and opened the tiger enclosure? I figured I could lend a little expertise. Save me another midnight trip.”

“Oh! Of course. Please—”

Tony crosses the room with sure steps, and she scrambles up and aside to give him her seat. He brings with him the scent of expensive cologne, the kind with a name her lips are too clumsy to form. The smile he gives her is warm, lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Then he turns his eyes to the computer, fingers moving expertly across the keyboard.

She can’t help but stand by him and watch while he works.

“Thank you again for helping us with Lyuba,” she says. All the words come out in order—no small miracle with how nervous she is, with the way her hands are shaking. She clasps them together in her lap. “I spent the most time with the large cats. I was actually the first one that they called when she escaped. If anything had happened to her, it would have broken my heart.”

“Hey, what’s the use of a multi-million dollar, practically indestructible suit if I can’t use it to help round up wayward cats in my downtime? And you know, I think I see your problem here. Jesus, this program is outdated. I’m going to make a donation when the sun’s up. A big one. Splurge on something a little more twenty-first century. Off-topic question here—” she blinks when he turns to face her. God, his eyes are huge, dark as the whiskey she keeps in her freezer. “—what would you have done if I weren’t in Manhattan?”

“Well,” she says. “I probably would have gone in after her. I don’t have a multi-million dollar indestructible suit, but I do have knucklebones.”

“I’m sorry—?”

“They’re her favorite treat.”

“Ah,” Tony says. “Well. I’m not exactly comforted by your protective equipment being something that only makes you look like an even tastier treat to a protective tiger.”

“Needless to say, I am very, very grateful.”

He laughs, a charming sound. This time when her knees clench together, it’s a visible motion, one that she catches his eyes flickering down to spot it. When he turns back towards the computer screen, it’s with a smirk. He wets his lips, and she wets her own in unconscious mirroring.

“You’re welcome,” he says lowly.

She swallows, grateful that he can’t see the way her pulse pounds, the temporary insanity inside her that makes the next statement pass her lips: “Maybe I could—thank you properly.”

For a moment, the meaning doesn’t dawn on him. He stares with an almost innocent openness. Then his eyes widen fractionally. “Ah—a generous offer. Not necessary though, I assure you.”

“I—of course. Jesus. I shouldn’t have even—I’m not usually so—”

“It’s fine,” he says, smiling. “Like I said, a very, very generous offer. But I’m not usually in the business of haranguing sexual favors as payment for being a good samaritan.”

“I’m hardly feeling harangued,” she admits. “If you aren’t interested though, I understand.”

“It’s not a lack of interest,” he says. “Trust me. But I have been making notable progress in being less of an asshole these last few years. It’s taken a lot of self-reflection and, full disclosure, plenty of therapy, and—”

“And saving tigers.”

“—that too. I—” His tirade cuts off when she slips from the stool down to kneel beside him in the cheap Ikea rolling chair he’s seated in. His throat bobs as he swallows, staring down at the sight of her. When she places one hand just above his knee, he lets out a long, audible breath into the quiet room.

“If you really aren’t interested,” she says, voice trembling. “Now is the time to say something.”

His head falls back to rest against the top of the chair while he looks upwards toward the fluorescent lights. Then his burning gaze is back on her, eyes serious and searching as they rake over her face. “You really want to do this?”

If he were to put his hand between her legs, he’d have overwhelming physical evidence, but this is the last thing she feels brave enough to say. She’s already on her knees in front of Tony Stark himself. That fills her quota of bravery for the day. Instead, she just nods fervently. Whatever his last reservations were fall to the wayside. His hands fall to his belt buckle and her legs clench together at the sound. Worse than one of Pavlov’s dogs, she thinks.

“This is what you wanted, right?” he asks, quiet while he pulls out his cock. He’s only half hard, but it’s impressive. All those nights she’d spent gossiping with girlfriends about how Tony Stark must be well hung, and now here is proof. Cut, thicker than she’s used to, and long, jerking under her gaze. When she glances back up at his eyes, she can see that he’s asked a question, but she’s already forgotten what it is.

Instead, she leans forward, letting one hand press flat against the well-trimmed pubic hair to steady the base while her tongue laps at the head. He tastes clean, maybe a little soapy, like he’d rushed to shower before stepping into the Iron-man suit. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees his hands tighten on the arms of the chair and considers that bolder encouragement than any spoken word.

Pressing his cock upwards towards the band t-shirt he wears, she ducks down to lap at his balls, watching his face to assess his reactions. Judging by the way his eyes shut, full-mouth parting, this is something he likes. So she throws herself into it whole-heartedly, sucking one into her mouth and then giving attention to the other until Tony’s cock is full, silken, burning skin when she tilts her head to nuzzle against it. When she pulls back, she is pleased to see the way his chest heaves, the way precum pearls at the tip of his cock.

When she leans in again to lap it away, Tony groans.

“Jesus, your mouth,” he murmurs.

She hums, heart buzzing with fresh confidence. As often as his eyes fall shut, he fights them open again and sets them on her, on her mouth where she presses open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, one palm cradling his balls in her warm palm. After a while, she is torturing herself as much as she tortures him, so she pulls back and opens her mouth (jaws already straining at the sheer width of him) and takes as much of his cock into her mouth as she can.

The long, low fuck he mutters travels down between her legs, causing her to give a groan of her own. While she’d love to work a hand down to where she’s wet and aching, she needs both of them: one to work the length of his cock that she can’t swallow, and one to roll his balls.

“Fuck me,” he says. “Did I say I didn’t want any more midnight trips to the zoo because—holy shit, that’s, that’s, God, please don’t stop—”

She takes him deeper in response, letting the blunt head of his cock nudge the back of her throat. He jerks, hands tightening into fists on the arms of the chair. She takes a steadying breath and then works him deeper into her mouth, swallowing around the urge to gag, swallowing again and again when sounds begin to drip from Tony’s mouth in an endless stream, half-formed pleas and praises and filthy words.

It’s easy to lose herself between his legs, to become nothing but an aching knot of need, a useful hot mouth for his hips to fuck into (though he is very gentlemanly about it, little aborted thrusts, one shaking hand coming up to pet at her hair). She reaches up to encourage him to thread his fingers through her hair and take hold of her, to guide her, to use her. She keeps one hand fisted at the base of him to keep from injuring herself and otherwise lets him use her.

She can’t help but imagine it happening again and again in a thousand different scenarios. Her beneath his desk while he works, keeping his cock warm. Her beneath the table during a rough meeting, his hands knotted in her hair. On her knees between his legs in his fancy penthouse, sucking him off for her own enjoyment.

Suddenly he coaxes her off, one hand cupping her chin. “Are you alright?” he asks, breathlessly. “You were whining.”

“‘M good,” she says, voice husky from the battering her throat has taken. “So good. Please don’t stop.”

Tony shudders all over. “Fuck, I like the way you sound like that. Is that because of me, sweet thing? When your throat is sore in the morning, are you going to remember this and touch yourself?”

“Uh-huh,” she breathes in the affirmative. Her eyes can’t focus on his face for any longer than a moment, not when his cock is there, glistening with her saliva, red and throbbing. Not when her mouth feels empty and open and desperate to be filled. She opens her mouth again, tongue lax, and he moans as he feeds his cock back between her lips.

“I’m getting close,” he breathes, one thumb tracing the line of where her lips are wrapped around his cock. “Where do you want it? Absolutely no obligation to swallow, you’re in charge—”

All the ideas are appealing: him pulling out to come on her face, pearlescent seed that she can lap from her lips. Pulling off so that she can finish him with her hand, so that she can watch every last twitch of his cock as she drags him over the edge. But this is the only chance she’ll ever have to be on her knees for this incredible, god-like man. There’s no chance she’ll let him cum anywhere but her mouth—no chance that she won’t swallow every last drop of him down.

Kneeling up for better vantage, she plants both hands on hips and coaxes him forward, forward to thrust into her. The message must be clear as the realization crosses his face, eyes squeezing shut in an expression of the most sublime ecstasy. He murmurs one last warning before his pelvis tightens, abs showing in sharp definition where his shirt has ridden up. Then his cock jerks in her mouth, the scent of cum sharp on the back of her tastebuds. She groans, working her tongue as she swallows once, twice, thrice.

As soon as he has finished, he draws her up onto shaking legs and pulls her onto his lap, his erection pressed between them as he cups her jaw tenderly and kisses the breath out of her. He must be able to taste himself in her mouth with the way his tongue plunders her, drags sensually against her own, but he only groans.

When he draws back, his cheeks are red, eyes hazy. “I don’t even know your name,” he says, laughing a little.

“I don’t remember it right now myself,” she says.

“How about your address?” Tony asks. “I’d like to continue this, if you’ll have me. Somewhere more private. Unless you’re comfortable coming back to mine.”

She blinks in surprise, sex throbbing when she wonders how he means to continue this. This whole night has been like a fever dream, the strangest, wettest fever dream of her life. And she realizes that she isn’t ready to wake up. So she drags her knuckles gently across his iconic facial hair and says, throat raw: “I’d like that.”

#tony stark/ofc #tony stark/original female character #tony x reader #tony x original female character #nff #tony stark x reader #cagewrites

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tattooednursewrites · 4 years

Text

Falling is Like This - Ch 9

Masterlist

Ch 1

Ch 8

Summary: The mission to rescue Jemma doesn't go as planned.

Warnings: Language

Steve x Bucky x OFC

Soulmates AU – Not Civil War compliant. Not Agents of Shield Compliant.

AN: I feel the need to apologize for being MIA for so long. My husband leaving has thrown my life into a bit of a tailspin... and I'm learning to be alone after 17 years. It's hard to focus long enough to make words happen. On top of that, work has been stressful. But thank you all for sticking with this story. I have in no way given up on it, it's just slow going. Love you guys, and hope you all are safe and well.

Ch 9

The building definitely didn’t scream ‘scary murderous organization’ to you. There were definitely things that raised a few red flags if you were a suspicious sort, though. Firstly, it was isolated. That alone might not be worrisome. Add in the top of the line security? Well… definitely odd, but not necessarily unusual with research and development. The armed guards, however, should make even the most naïve person hesitate. You, however, had no doubt the evil that lay within, so your smile didn’t falter as you strutted to the door, ignoring the guard’s eyes on you.

The identity you had created would at least get you in the door, a rich socialite looking to invest in a company that may or may not develop some very interesting recreational pharmaceuticals. What these people wanted with Jemma you had no idea. Nor did you care, you just wanted to make sure they didn’t get it, and that Jemma was safe. You checked in at the desk and sat down to wait. You were supposed to meet some bitchy figurehead that would no doubt try and con you out of as much money as she could, but you would let her feel like she was getting whatever she wanted if it got you closer to Jemma. She just needed to get you into the more secure areas. Then you could knock her out and stash her somewhere.

You scanned the area again as you waited, fidgeting with the earrings Fitz had given you. They allowed the team to see and hear what was going on, and if you pressed three times, that was the abort code, and they’d come in to get you and Jemma out the hard way. You were hoping to avoid that, though. You sighed, your thoughts wandering to Steve and Bucky. You hoped they wouldn’t be too mad at you. When they met Jemma, they would understand. You remembered Bucky and Natasha catching your reunion and had to redirect your thoughts before the blush overtook you.

You heard your alias called, and you stood, taking the woman’s hand. She was younger than you expected. She led you quickly through the guarded door, and then two more locked doors. You were so focused on memorizing your path you didn’t realize you had entered a room until you heard a gasp. You turned, your eyes finding Jemma, then you felt the pinch of a needle, and everything went black.

***

Bucky paced as Steve and Natasha sat at the table watching the feed. You had just walked into the building and Bucky couldn’t keep still. He was thankful Nat had convinced Coulson to agree to the three of them joining the group at the extraction point. He didn’t like that the mission, one that put you in danger, was already underway, but at least he was here if anything went wrong.

Steve had been surprised, but happy, to see Coulson alive and well. Bucky figured there was a story there, but didn’t ask. Fitz, a friend of Hazel’s and the soulmate of the missing Jemma, was stationed in front of a computer, watching the same feed, his eyes not leaving the screen. Bucky paced as Steve sat next to Coulson, going over the plan and safeties in place. Bucky knew he should be paying attention, but he was having trouble focusing. This was more Steve’s thing, anyway. Bucky got bored with planning fairly quickly.

“No, no, no!” Fitz shot up and Bucky was the first at his side.

“Fuck.”

The picture had tilted, meaning you weren’t upright anymore. Jemma could be seen crying in the background as you were approached by guards. Bucky felt Steve grab his arm as the feed cut out.

“What happened? Why did the feed cut out?” Steve looked to Fitz, then Coulson.

“I… I… It, they shouldn’t…” Fitz was staring at the feed as he muttered.

“Contact May and Daisy, see if they still have eyes,” Coulson said, resting a calming hand on Fitz’s shoulder. “We’ll get them out.”

***

Fuuuuuccckkkk. Getting drugged never got any easier. The headache was insane. Getting hit over the head almost hurt less. You kept your breathing measured and cracked your eyes a bit. No one else that you could see so far. Listening as much as you could, all you heard was a slight whimpering. Shit. Opening your eyes fully you turned. Jemma was curled up on a bench against the wall. You looked around the room, confirming it was just the two of you, before turning back to her.

“Jemma, it’s okay, breath sweetheart,” you murmured, bringing her attention to you.

“Hazel! I’m so sorry! I tried to warn you, they were just…”

“No, sweetie, no,” you swallowed, nausea overwhelming you as you moved to sit up more. “You couldn’t have done anything. I’m just glad to see you. Are you alright? Do I have to kill anyone?”

“I… I’m okay, I think. A bit bruised. Mainly worried about you. It… it was a trap and…” she broke off when there was a noise from outside.

You both listened for a few moments before you scooted yourself toward her a bit. It was awkward with your wrist and ankles tied – fucking zip-ties – but you managed. “Any idea what their evil plan is?” You mumbled, keeping your voice low.

“They were trying to make me work on a formula. When I wasn’t doing what they wanted, they were hoping to get some… leverage. I think they expected Fitz,” she paused, taking a shaky breath. “Thank you, for keeping him out of this.”

“Of course. Well, you know I can take a lot of damage, so don’t give in on my account. I can handle it, if it comes to that.” You spoke quickly, trying to instill your voice with a confidence you didn’t feel. Torture was definitely high on the list of your least favorite things. “I’m hoping I can get us out of this before it’s a problem, though.”

Jemma winced. “I don’t know if I could…”

“You can and you will,” you cut her off, your voice forceful, prompting her to look at you. “It won’t be easy, but we do what we have to do, yeah?”

She swallowed, but gave you a shaky nod. “I’ll do my very best.”

“I know, sweetie. And I can’t ask for more than that. So, how much do we think they know?”

“They don’t seem to know much about you, they called you my lab rat friend, I don’t think…”

She was interrupted by the door opening.

***

“I understand your urgency, but we can’t rush this,” Coulson insisted, looking between Steve and Bucky. Steve took a breath and turned to Bucky.

“I want nothing more than to go in there right now, but what if we get her hurt, Buck? I’d never forgive myself. You know I’m never one to wait for a safe plan, but for her can we at least try to make an exception?”

Bucky stopped glaring at Coulson and turned to Steve. “If something happens to her…”

“I know. I promise I know. Nothing but ash. In the mean time I could use your help. Nat says there are a couple places that we could place a sniper, and since you’re the best…”

Bucky grumbled, but moved to look over the aerial map Steve had gestured to, nodding. At least he could do something.

***

Sometimes it really fucking sucked to be right. You tried not to react as the punch landed on your cheek, but a small grunt of pain escaped. Another punch quickly landed on the other side, and you slumped over, hoping they’d decide to hit somewhere that wasn’t your face for a bit. You listened as the bitchy chic you had met with originally told Jemma they’d give her a few minutes to make the right decision. Oh goody! A break! You tried not to chuckle as they left you alone with Jemma. Idiots.

“Hazel? You okay?”

“Eh, been better, but not as bad as they think I am,” you muttered, not sitting up as you worked at your boot. Your wrist and ankles were still tied, but they weren’t secured to anything. Jemma was right, they must think you were like her and Fitz… a lab geek. Well, only a lab geek. They had pulled the knife from your boot, but you had an almost garrote-like piece of metal looped into the leather. You quickly used it to cut through the zip-ties holding your hands, then your feet, before turning to Jemma.

You removed the ties from her wrists, they hadn’t bothered with her ankles. She brought her hands to your face. “Oh, Hazel!”

“I’m fine, looks worse than it is,” you reassured her. You knew you looked a mess. You could feel your eye swelling and the split lip. You definitely tasted the blood. “Let’s get the fuck out of here, yeah?”

Jemma nodded, and took your hand as you pulled her behind you. The door lock didn’t take you long to disable, and you moved quickly, making sure Jemma stayed with you.

“The fuck?!”

Shit!! You pushed Jemma backwards into the wall and jumped into the guard, pushing his gun up and praying he wouldn’t hit anything vital if he fired. You kneed him in the groin twice before pulling the taser off of his belt and using it on him. He dropped to the ground. You didn’t like the idea of having him at your backs, but you didn’t want to… fuck. You went through his gear quickly, taking what you thought you might need. Tranq darts? Hmm. You stabbed one into his ass before you could think too much about it, and pocketed the clip with the rest.

“Hazel,” you heard Jemma whisper.

Right. You nodded at her, handing her his backup gun. Now that you were both armed you started moving again. When you started to see windows and daylight, your hands went to your necklace. It was another gift from Fitz… and it was just a normal necklace, until it was activated. You twisted the gem, activating it. He said it was short range, so you weren’t sure they would be able to pick you up yet, but daylight was good enough for you. You couldn’t help but wonder how many hours had passed. Fitz must be freaking out.

The necklace was only one way… but hopefully they could hear you. “It’s Hazel,” you tried to keep your voice low, but loud enough to be heard. “I have Jemma, and we’re making our way out of the facility.”

***

They had a plan. It took a couple of hours longer than Bucky would’ve liked, but it was a fairly solid plan. And he definitely appreciated having powered people on his side. Daisy could literally demolish walls… easily. And she obviously loved his girl and Jemma. A lot. She was almost as impatient as he was. Steve was nervous, but Bucky figured that was more due to having both of his soulmates in harms way, than the plan itself. As they were gearing up and going over the plan again, Fitz rushed in.

“It’s Hazel! The necklace! She made contact!” And with that he turned and ran back out of the room, everyone following him.

“What do you mean it’s Hazel?” Steve asked as they approached Fitz, who was back in front of his monitor. He hit a few keys on the keyboard and your voice, barely more than a whisper, came from the speakers. “It’s Hazel. I have Jemma, and we’re making our way out of the facility.”

“Holy fuck.” Bucky looked to Steve, who was frozen, staring at the speakers.

“Told you not to underestimate her,” Natasha sighed, looking between Steve and Bucky. “She’s not a damsel.”

Daisy laughed. “No, she’s more likely to do the rescuing than the other way around – usually with little regard to her own safety.”

Bucky grunted and narrowed his eyes at Steve. “Just what I fucking need. Two of you.”

Daisy nudged him. “Don’t worry, she avoids field work when she can. Prefers the lab. This is… a special circumstance.”

“We’re sure this isn’t a trap?” Coulson asked, squinting at the speaker.

Bucky turned, about to give Coulson a piece of his mind, but May interrupted him.

“Hazel remembers the protocols… hell, she came up with some of them. You hear any of the warning words?

Coulson sighed, shaking his head. “I just don’t want any more of my people in danger in there.”

“We know, boss,” Daisy grinned. “So, what are we waiting for? Can’t let them have all the fun.”

“Fun?” Fitz stuttered, looking at Daisy with wide eyes.

“We’ll have them back here in no time, Fitz, don’t worry,” Daisy said, giving his should a pat.

Steve nodded, looking to Bucky, who nodded back. “Let’s go.”

Ch 10

#tattooednursewrites #marvel #MARVEL FANDOM #marvel fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers #steve/bucky #steve rogers x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x ofc #Steve Rogers x OFC #bucky barnes/ofc #steve rogers/ofc #Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers/ofc #bucky barnes x steve rogers #bucky barnes x steve rogers x ofc #soulmarks #soulmate au #soulmate alternate universe

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authoressskr · 6 years

Text

Uses to Conceal

Characters: Reader, Balthazar, Castiel, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Casey (OFC), Joey (OMC) :: Warnings: Language, Sass, Mentions of death, Random Monster :: Word Count: 5255 (It got out of hand...)

This was written for my 400+ Celebration!! Request your own here!!

Prompt: “You don’t get to come for information and then tell me to stay out of it. That’s - quite rude, actually.” This was written for @archangelgabriellives who requested the trope of Sarcasm to Hide Secret Feelings to round the request off!!

Note: Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

It was pouring rain the first time Balthazar saw you, standing close to Sam in an attempt to block some of the onslaught. He’d stood next to Cas, staring at you across the burning pit filled with the two chupacabra. You had given Castiel and himself a warm smile, despite how you cradled your arm, the blood tinged pink with all the rain. Cas had healed you, giving you a small smile before Sam and Dean relaxed, knowing you had been taken care of. Neither Winchester had bothered to introduce him, Castiel only doing so once he’d coughed - loudly - through Angel Radio.

What he’d been dissecting afterward was why he kept staring, and returning your ever-present smile, when he didn’t actually care for humanity half as much as Castiel. And once he realized not only that he was thinking about you - but about your safety and concern for a race that didn’t know what you’d sacrificed to keep their petty-filled world turning - but thinking he cared. And that had to be stopped - or at the very least, contained.

Which led to the current situation - your moving in day.

Hunters kept very little in the way of personal effects, but you seemed to be the exception. You’d insisted on a queen-sized bed and decorating. Eight large boxes full of clothes, sheets, and blankets later, you’d come down the hall with yet another box, he couldn’t help the scoff that escaped. A quick quirk of your eyebrow made him stop, gesturing to the box in your grasp.

“Shouldn’t Bed, Bath and Beyond be empty now?” Your head had pulled back, your gaze sharpening at his words. Sam and Dean were coming up the opposite end of the hall, Dean’s face hardening when he saw you not smiling.

“Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need. Ephesians 4:28.” And continued onto your room, Sam and Dean smirking as they passed by, Balthazar’s chest warm with your wit and the sharpness he needled out. He enjoyed the interaction. Shit. This was going to be a lot more difficult than be had first hoped.

Nearly four months later, you’d caught a bad cold from pulling a teenage boy from an icy river when a vicious skinwalker case popped up in Arkansas. The 104 fever, chills, and dizziness at any little damn movement made going impossible, so you were currently buried under a mountain of blankets blindly reaching for a water bottle that Sam had left on your bedside table before they’d left.

A low whine escapes you as you can’t immediately locate it, shimmying from under your blankets as your body achingly protests.

“Y/N?” Castiel’s deep voice sounds funny through the cottony feeling in your ears. “You shouldn’t be up.” He chastises, coming to your side to re-cocoon you.

“I was looking for the water bottle.” Your voice is hoarse, watching blearily as Castiel locates and uncaps the water for you. He helps you to sit more upright as you drink, Balthazar appearing in the doorway as you attempt to muster a glare over the top of the water bottle at him.

“Look at the widdle huntress.” He coos sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. You pull away, Cas recapping the bottle before frowning at his brother.

“Bite me.” You grump out, snuggling back down into the nest of blankets.

“Witty comeback.”

“I wish you could get sick because I would shove my tongue so far down your throat…” You mumble, turning onto your side and pulling the covers up under your nose before sleep drags you under.

“If only you knew how much he wanted that.” Castiel smirks at Balthazar knowingly, smoothing a hand over your exposed hair a few times before they both left the room.

“You’re a jackass, Castiel.”

“And you are enamored, Balthazar.”

“She could have gotten worse than a cold from doing that.” Castiel smothers a smile at Balthazar’s exasperated tone.

“It was a risk she was willing to take. Hunters tend to do that.” Balthazar glowers at his brother and disappears to a bar halfway around the world.

Nearly a month after that, you’re once again stuck in the rain - this time in Arizona, watching an old warehouse where a rather large nest of vampires was holed up. You’re on your belly, pressed against a few spindly bushes that provided a semi-sheltered vantage point for you to watch Sam sneak around the back.

You’d been silently cursing the onslaught of rain for almost fifteen minutes when it suddenly stopped. Cautiously, you turn slightly, revealing Balthazar lying beside you. Furrowing your brow at him, you peeked upward, seeing nothing, but could see the rain rolling off the invisible shield.

“Helping out?” You whisper, turning your gaze back to the warehouse.

“Keeping you from getting sick again.”

“Humm. How gallant of you.”

“I am just that type of angel.” You scoff at his words, pulling the tranq gun from its resting spot just under your right hand as a few vampires attempt to flee the warehouse and the trio of hunters inside. Placing your eye to the scope, you aim for the one furthest from Dean, who had just come flying out the back door to give chase, easily taking the burly man down with Dead Man’s Blood.

You shoot another two vamps before you see one scampering up the hill towards you, second row of teeth on display just before a light seared from his eye sockets, his smote body tumbling back down the hill. You hadn’t even noticed the rain pelting you at Balthazar’s temporary absence until the rain stopped once more.

“Why’d you do that? I had it under control.” You huff, shoving yourself off the ground and upright.

“Yes, darling, you were managing wonderfully. If you’d given him any more time you could have set up a tea party for his arrival.”

“Bite me.”

“He would have.”

“This isn’t the time or place for your ill-placed sarcasm, Balthazar.” You snap, turning to gather the handful of vials and gun from the ground. “And I don’t need you to protect me from the rain - I’m not going to melt.” Slinging the gun strap over your shoulder, you come face to face with blue summer eyes and a ticking jaw before his hands wrap around your upper arms, hauling you against his chest as his lips met yours in a bruising kiss.

“Seems you need plenty of protecting to me.” He mutters smugly before flashing a grin and disappearing.

“What the actual hell?” You whisper to no one before Dean calls your name, and you begin carefully picking your way down the slippery hill, pausing only once to look at the vampire with his eyes burned out of his skull.

A few days after the vamp hunt (And the kiss you kept not thinking about. Mostly...) and one day after sleeping for nearly ten hours out of sheer exhaustion, you got a call from your old hunting partner.

“Hey, Velma. I, uh, I need your help.” Your spine had straightened immediately at her tone, anxiousness wiping any fog from your mind.

“Casey, just tell me what you need.” Rising from your seat, Dean giving you a quirk of his eyebrow at the sudden change in demeanor.

“I need,” She grunts on the other end of the line before continuing. “I need you to come help me. I don’t know what the hell attacked us, but - but,” You can hear her fighting back tears. “They killed Joey.”

“The kids?” Your voice is barely audible, even in the quiet room.

“Naw, they’re, uh, they’re with Joey’s mom for her birthday. Down at the lake.” Your walking briskly out of the library now, with Dean hot on your heels and Sam stopping in the hallway as you head to your room, only to end up following the both of you.

“Just tell me where you are, sweetie.”

“Ohio. Just outside Sagamore Hills, in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park.” You’re writing down everything on a notepad on your desk as Dean takes a seat on the end of your bed, one elbow propped on his knee as both of them carefully watch you.

“I’m coming. I will be there as soon as humanly possible, okay? Are you injured?”

“Dislocated my damn shoulder getting away from the wolf.”

“Wolf?”

“It was bigger than a real wolf. Waaaaay bigger. And no matter what we emptied into it, it just kept coming.” Her voice wavered a little and you knew she was crying.

“Anything else you had to go on?”

“Joe,” Casey grunts in pain. “Joe, uh, he was worried cause there were reports of an abnormally large black wolf. It - Jesus, I didn’t think I was this out of shape, Y/N - it killed two little girls. One was seven and the other just turned four. Snatched them right out of their yards. With his mom living so close by...he thought we should take, uh - shit, take care of it.”

“I’ll bring the Jack. You send me all the details.”

“You still owe me from last time.”

“Fine. I’ll pick up a couple bottles of wine too. I’ll see you soon. Promise.”

“I love you, Velma. Be safe.”

“I love you too Case.” And the line went dead, and you let a few tears slide down your cheeks for Joey. You’re already bringing up a map on your phone to see how far it is when Dean clears his throat, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Well?”

“I’ll be gone for a few days.”

“Nope,” Sam mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ll be gone for a few days.” You manage a nod before a few more tears slip down your cheeks. You’d known Joey nearly as long as you’d known Casey. He’d grown up in the life while you and Casey had only been introduced to it in college when a pair of vetala had been taking men from the fraternity across the road.

“You can tell us the story and what you know in the car. We all know you drive like a soccer mom.” Dean huffs playfully, kissing your forehead before leaving, Sam nodding at you before following his brother.

Twelve and a half hours later, you arrive at the edge of the Cuyahoga Valley National Park. The trip had been filled mostly with Dean sending you flirty looks once he found out you’d been part of a sorority, with Sam and you rolling your eyes through the hour and a half of endless questions and smirking glances after it had been brought up. You’d driven in shifts, the boys letting you sleep the last leg, but you’d been too jittery the last couple hours to sleep.

The last stop you’d made, you’d slunk away from the car to make a call.

You’d been wrestling with the call most of the trip and even dreamed of his light blue glower if you didn’t call and had to emergency pray in a tight spot.

“Hello, darling huntress.” Damn him and his cockiness and accent.

“Balthazar,” You steel yourself, inhaling deeply.

“Still thinking about our last interaction?” He damn near purrs through the phone.

“I need your help.” Silence. “I, uh, my old hunting partner called, and they were talking about a wolf.” More silence. You pull the phone away from your ear to make sure the call is still connected. “Hello?”

“I’m still here. Can the Winchesters not handle a werewolf?”

“Casey said the wolf was abnormally large. Definitely not a werewolf.” You bristle a little. “Do you think I would call you if it was a werewolf?”

“Considering this is the first time you have called, I would venture to say no.” There was that condescending sarcasm that made you want to say fuck it and just figure it out yourself. But there was something else in his tone too. “Calm down, love. I can feel you practically vibrating with the need to throttle me.” He huffs a little, “Continue.”

“Casey unloaded several clips into it. One with regular bullets, the other with silver centers. Said it didn’t even slow it down. I did a quick review through the “furry” section of the library and didn’t see anything that might match the description of size and ferocity.”

“I’ll confer with Castiel, but it sounds like something I’ve heard about. I’ll dig a little and get back to you.”

“Thank you, Balthazar.” You breathe out, the information he may know easing some of the tension in your body.

“Of course, Y/N.”

You think about the conversation as Dean pulls the Impala up to the little shabby cottage-like house Casey had directed you to.

Casey, nearly six-foot-tall with long brown hair that was pulled into a messy bun, comes out the front door, a tight smile on her beautiful, tired face. You exit the backseat a little too eager, the need to comfort your best friend overwhelming. She’s wrapped in your arms before she can even manage a ‘hello’, hands rubbing soothing circles up and down her back as she pulls herself together to greet the boys.

“Velma, aren’t you gonna introduce your handsome friends?” You roll your eyes, keeping an arm around her waist as you both turn to the Winchesters.

“Casey, this is Dean and Sam Winchester.”

“Hmmm. Damn.” Dean grins lazily at her before her face falls. “Well, I would say it’s nice to meet you, but circumstances being what they are…” The boys both nod and enter behind the two of you.

Once inside, she goes over the whole story again, handing over all the clippings and official report copies she had on the case before bursting into tears.

“So, uh, why do you call her Velma?” Dean asks, changing the subject swiftly as you hand her a tissue.

“Not only has she seen every damn episode of Scooby Doo - original, Scooby Doo Show, Scooby Doo Movies with the celebrities and most of the actual films - she is irritatingly good at deduction.” She sniffles a little before giving a watery smile. “Seemed logical given how long we’ve known each other.”

“She mentioned you’d been friends since high school.”

“Yep. We met in English, second period, Mrs. Park, seated beside each other. We didn’t actually talk until a week or so after the first week of school. Haven’t stopped talking since.” She answers Sam, smiling wider. “She’s godmother to all three of my children.”

“Well, that explains why she’s always grinning at her phone and who she’s always talking to.” Dean’s mouth turns up on one side as his eyes shift to you.

“Are you okay now Case?” She nods, straightening her back and pointing to a map by Sam.

“We were about here when we were attacked.” She marks it with a black ‘x’. “I made it across the 271, headed for the Brandywine Falls when it attacked again. It dislocated my shoulder, scratched the shit out of the back of my left calf, and added some more bruises.” She marks that with a black ‘x’ as well. “The first of the two little girls bodies were found here by Hines Hills Road,” she grabs a red sharpie, marking the map. “And the second body was found maybe a mile up the road, closer to the Stanford Trail.” Casey sighs. “We were just trying to keep our children safe. We’ve visited this state park dozens of times when we visit Joe’s mom.” Her voice wavers when she mentions her husband’s name, and you reach out to squeeze her hand. “Don’t think you’re leaving me behind. I - I - I need to bring him home.”

“Of course.” You agree. “But you do as we say. Cause you are gonna go home to your children.”

Once it started getting dark, you’re standing with Dean as he digs through the trunk.

“Still nothing from Douche-azar?” You check your cell for the ninth or tenth time since arriving, chest tight.

“Nope.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Balthazar states loudly from behind you, Castiel beside him.

“Well, when that source of faith is you…” Dean trails off, returning to his digging.

“Do you know what it is?” You ask hopefully, moving closer to the angels.

“I always deliver.” Balthazar’s voice is missing its usual undertones, sounding more harsh than flirty.

“What is it?” You query, ignoring the change in Balthazar’s tone and stance.

“Pricolici,” Balthazar answers before looking away. Castiel shoots his brother a look and steps forward.

“It is a werewolf/vampire hybrid. They’re stronger than vampires and they’re stronger than werewolves. The lore states that it can shapeshift into wolves, dogs, owls, and bats. Although the owls and bats seem a bit far-fetched.”

“More handsome men, Y/N?!”

“Oh! Casey! This is Castiel,” You gesture to the tan-coat covered angel. “And this is Balthazar.” You gesture to the thorny blonde angel, whose face has changed from moody indifference to the skin by his eyes wrinkling slightly as his lips quirk up.

Castiel gives her a nod as Balthazar moves a little closer to you, raising a hand in acknowledgment to Casey. You frown at the quick switch, glancing at Balthazar with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I’m all ready. Sammy’s ready to modify the silver bullets. Just let us know how to kill it.” Dean moves into the space between you and Balthazar, smirking at the angel.

“Wolfsbane,” Balthazar answers, eyes boring into Dean’s before softening and switching to meet yours. “And silver. And remove the head.”

“And we’ll burn it just to be safe.” You look to Dean, who nods then places his hand gently on your lower back, guiding you back towards the cabin.

“Let’s go tell Sammy.” You stop in front of Balthazar.

“Thank you for the information. You can go back to doing whatever you were doing.”

“You don’t get to come for information and then tell me to stay out of it. That’s - quite rude, actually.” You pull back at his tone, furrowing your forehead.

“Well excuse me for thinking this was just something you put up with, especially with your attitude on the phone and when you got here.” It clicks suddenly, mentally reviewing the words you used when you called and his attitude until he found out your old hunting partner was a woman. “Oh my gosh! You’re jealous!”

At least he has the sense to look indignant. “I am not.”

“He is.” Castiel supplies, just a foot or so away, earning another glare from his brother.

“What should I be jealous over, darling?”

“Another suspected male who you believed had been intimate with Y/N. Especially considering your heavier use of sarcasm when she is around.” Castiel leans in a little, lowering his voice. “I have learned from Dean these are uses to conceal when one party is interested in another party. Usually in regards to sex.”

“Dude!” Dean tugs you away from the angels as you smirk at Balthazar. He points a finger at Balthazar. “No. Hell no.”

“May we come inside?” Castiel asks Casey, who is enjoying the exchanges far too much.

“Yeah, of course, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” Balthazar follows him quietly, although Dean continues to glare at him throughout the walkthrough of the hunt, with you avoiding his glances. You weren’t going to cave to the snarky angel.

It was a little before eleven pm when you all reached Joey’s remains, Castiel transporting the body back to the run-down cabin before rejoining the rest of you.

Balthazar had attempted a few times to speak to you, only to interrupted by Casey (accidentally) who had thought he was simply going to tell you that your pack had come open on one side.

The second time was intentional. And it was Castiel who did it - which had surprised you to no end actually - easily slipping ahead of his sibling to walk by your side as you ventured deeper into the woods.

“Shh,” Sam whispers at the head of the group, all of you freezing in place just as Cas and Balthazar turn to your right, staring straight ahead before you hear the deepest fucking growl you’d ever heard in your life.

You know it’s there, it knows that you’re there - no sense in being coy. You pump the shotgun in your hand, each one of you adjusting your stance when you see the faintest dark gold eyes through the trees.

Too close is your only thought before the enormous inky black wolf bursts out of the dark wood.

You move quickly in front of Casey, even as she makes an annoyed sound in the back of her throat as shots ring out in succession around you.

At first, when the two of you move, it’s clunky and choppy. Out of practice.

But you’re in sync as soon as Dean shouts “DOWN!” before shooting directly behind you, Casey dropping into a low crouch before emptying all her bullets into the hind end of the beast, an angry snarl seeping from its chest as it turns to look you directly in the eye. Balthazar’s arm winds around your waist, yanking you from the suddenly charging and pissed off pricolici.

“Still in need of saving, I see.” He whispers loudly before releasing you, handing you another handful of shotgun shells.

“I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.” You call out just before he runs back towards Castiel.

“Is this how you guys flirt?” Casey pants, slamming a new clip home.

“Hell, if I know, Case.”

“For knowing a lot, Velma, you sure are blind.” And she heads back towards the wolf, with you hot on her heels.

“IF I DIDN’T LOSE MY FUCKING GLASSES ALL THE TIME!” You both laugh, drawing the intense gold eyes once more in your direction before it swings to Casey.

And holy shit was that thing even bigger up close.

“Alright, bring it, Jacob.” Casey snaps out, her thin lips nearly curling up to reveal her canines.

Castiel and Balthazar shoot forward when it does, both the angels shoving their grace through the pricolici as Casey, Dean, Sam and yourself all unload what’s left of your bullets into the giant black monstrosity.

He goes down with a groan, shifting back to his human form as his body twitches, riddled with bullet holes that were smoking - from the gunpowder, the silver or the wolfsbane, you had no idea.

“That was for Anna Lee. And Daisy. And for my Joey.” Casey’s voice is loud in the suddenly silent wood, unsnapping the machete from her thigh before cleanly removing the bastard’s head.

Sam’s butane torch lights the wood and kindling easily, the body going up almost as easily.

“Thanks for healing me.” Casey nudges Castiel with her elbow, smiling sadly. “Again.”

“Of course.”

“I can’t believe everything that’s happened the last couple days.” Her voice is soft as Cas joins the Winchesters and Balthazar at the foot of the pyre.

“I hope there aren’t more of those things. I can’t believe you called him Jacob.”

“Oh, come on - you were thinking it too.” The silence sobers you both of the deflective humor, Casey turning and folding herself around your smaller frame, sobs racking her body.

“Shh. I know, sweetie. And I’m so damn sorry.” You shed a few tears along with her, knowing she was looking at a lot more tears. “Shh.” You soothe, running a hand up and down her back.

When you got back to the cabin, you gave Joey a hunter’s funeral, Casey sobbing even harder as the flames engulfed the man she thought she was going to grow old with.

The others keep a respectful distance, allowing the pair of you to grieve long after the ashes began to smolder.

It was Dean and Sam who scooped Casey and yourself off the carpet of fallen leaves, tucking you both into the only bed. You fell asleep holding Casey as she cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, Casey had the sheet pulled over both your heads, keeping the outside world at bay for a while longer.

“What am I gonna do, Y/N?”

“Well, you'll never forgive yourself, unless you get up, get dressed and you brush your goddamn teeth, 'cause your breath stinks.” You begin, quoting one of your favorite shared movies, Practical Magic. She gives a huff of a laugh before tears cloud her eyes again. “Casey, you are the most strong-willed woman I have ever met. I think even Heaven is afraid of you.” You smooth a hand up and down her arm. “You wanted us to start hunting, then we look karate and gun classes. You wanted to not have one night stands anymore, and boom - there was suddenly Joey. You wanted to get out of the life, and you did. You wanted a family and you did that too. There is nothing you can’t do. I guess you just take it one day at a time, take as much of it as you can handle and cry the rest out.”

“That’s why you’re the smart one.” She sniffles, using the back of her hand to wipe away the tears and snot. You shoot her a small smile and jerk your shoulder in a little shrug. “A little shit too.” She adds, pushing at your shoulder with her left hand, stopping when she saw her wedding ring. “At least I got seven wonderful years.”

“And three beautiful children.” Casey scoffs playfully.

“Yeah. I mean, I guess so.” And the pair of you drift off to sleep again for a few more hours.

When you wake up again, you’ve shoved the covers all away from your overly warm body, Casey tugging them closer around herself.

“So…” She begins, making you groan. “You and blondie gonna get sassy then get nasty?”

“Oh my god Casey! There was soo much wrong with that whole question!”

“I’m just sayin’... the way he looks at you… ya know.”

“Pssh.” You roll your eyes, flopping onto your back and tossing your arm over your eyes.

“Don’t ‘pssh’ me, Y/N. Jump on that fine piece of angelic ass.”

“You are going to hell.”

“He’s not gonna let that happen if I help him get you.” She perks up, changing her position as the bed moved, making you look. “You’re like a ‘Get Out of Hell Free!’ card!”

“That’s not how it works.”

“When you guys get home, bang him. Hard.”

“That didn’t work in college - it’s sure as hell not gonna work now.”

“Sure, it is!” She leans in like she’s telling you a big secret and you roll your eyes. “Next sarcastic comment he says to you, just kiss him senseless then walk away. Then you deliver a zinger of your own. Boom! The sexy times - they commence. You’re welcome.”

“No. But I love you.”

“You’ll be thanking me later.”

“Uh-huh.”

When you finally arrive back at the Bunker, nearly a week after the boys - electing to stay behind with Casey to help with the kids, it’s eerily quiet.

“Hello?”

“Kiddo!” Dean hollers from down the hall, boots making hardly any noise as he hurries towards you. “SAMMY! SHE’S HOME!” A second set of boots echo lightly down the hall, Dean reaching you and pulling you tightly into his chest.

“Missed you too, Dean,” you manage before Sam tugs you impatiently from his big brother’s grasp and crushing you in his own. “And you, Sam.”

“Tired?” The younger Winchester asks, Dean picking up your duffle.

“You have no idea.” You huff. “Don’t get me wrong, I love the little terrors, but how she does it on a daily basis is beyond me. I got up every day at the crack of dawn and fell asleep well after eleven. I’m sore in places I’ve never been sore in, just to help give you another piece of this puzzle.” Dean chuckles.

“Sounds like you want three just like ‘em.”

“Nah, I like the whole love ‘em and hand them back aspect.” You manage around a yawn, looking up from the Bunker’s floor to realize you were almost to your bedroom door. “If you guys don’t mind, I’m gonna sleep for a few days.”

“Only awaken at feeding times - gotcha.” Sam smiles down at you enough to show dimples. “Get some sleep.”

“Thanks, Sam.” You kiss his cheek and then repeat with Dean. “Thanks, Dean.”

You get your door closed and your pants unbuttoned and unzipped when you hear someone clear their throat to your left, making you jump. Luckily, you manage to suppress the startled squeal as you see Balthazar sitting propped up against your headboard.

“My, my...” His grin is almost cheshire worthy and you expect his eyes to roam, but they never leave your face. “I was thinking you might not come back.”

“I can see you’re really torn up about that.”

“Not so much anymore with this impromptu strip show.”

“Sorry, but that’s not a show you’re getting, buddy.” You don’t bother to zip or button your jeans, just put a hand on your hip as you look at the angel on your bed. “Did you need something, Balthazar?” A smirk dances across your lips. “Still upset your brother outed your feelings?” His lips pressed together in a thin line, summer sky colored eyes boring into you.

“You’re worth every ounce of chaos you bring to the table, you realize that?”

“I am not chaos. You’re chaos.” You squint your eyes a little at the half-assed comeback, the tiredness rolling back over you anew.

“Good come back - pick that up from Dean, did we?”

“Balthazar, I just wanna sleep. I really am not in the place mentally to deal with your bullshit.” He shifts on the bed so his back is to you.

“Well, go on then.” He orders, taking his tumbler from the side table and taking a few healthy sips.

“What?”

“Get. Dressed. For. Bed.” You sigh, deciding not to fight it anymore as you shimmy out of your jeans and kick them away, pulling a fresh set of pajama shorts from the stack on your desk and sliding them on before turning your back to Balthazar’s and quickly removing your tee shirt and bra, slipping on the matching short sleeved button up pajama top and buttoning it as you moved closer to the angel.

A soft brush of your fingers on his shoulder stirs him from his thoughts, his face softening.

“Lie down.” He manages thickly, watching as your eyebrow shoot up. “Darling, I am always a gentleman, so calm yourself.” You crawl past him onto the bed, wiggling down until you’re comfortable, watching as he stands and removes his jacket and shoes.

“Pants too.” You grumble, eyes already heavy.

“Whatever you say, love.” You get a glimpse of toned legs, darker than you thought they’d be, before the covers rise and he slips under them with you.

“Balthazar?” You mutter softly, letting him turn you on your side to spoon you.

“Yes, little huntress?”

“What is this?”

“I believe humans call it courtship.” You chuckle at his choice of words.

“No one calls it courtship anymore.”

“Wooing?”

“Still no.”

“Let’s just call it sleeping for now, darling.”

“Okay.” You yawn again, wiggling impossibly deeper into the angel’s embrace before a little contented sigh leaves you. “Night, Balthazar.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He nuzzles against your throat, waiting until he feels your consciousness slip away. “I love you.”

Tagging: @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @unleashthemidnight @sumara62 @clockworkmorningglory @crowleys-poppet-queen-of-assgard @whinywingedwinchester @chelsea072498 @sakurablossom4 @galaxiesinmymind @stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @keepingcalmisoverratedgoddamnit @ourloveisforthelovely @archangelgabriellives

#balthazar x reader #authoressskr writes #supernatural reader insert #authoressskr 400+ Celebration #400+ celebration #castiel #dean winchester #sam winchester #balthazar #sorry this took so long #just keep adding to it #sarcasm to hide secret feelings trope #I love sarcasm

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