Clean Up

Summary: As part of Stark’s clean up crew, you never have a dull day. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader-ish? Word Count: 3511 Warnings: Language, minor angst, fluff A/N: A lot of fics take place either during missions, the jet ride after, or when the team gets back to the tower/compound. I always wondered if there was a special crew that was assigned to a clean up crew, that helped these cities/towns rebuild and clear up dangerous stuff. This fic is a product of that brainstorm! It was beta’d by the lovely @saxxxology and gif is made by me and I hope you enjoy!

Marvel Masterlist

The transport bus glided to a halt at the end of the long stretch of road that led up to the once standing machining factory. Standing from your seat at the front of the bus, you put your hands on your hips and arched your back, grunting when a few of your vertebrae shifted with a low pop. Turning to face the other passengers, you smiled, clapping your hands to gather their attention.

“Okay, everyone! Seems like this is just a simple structure collapse, but there was some minor damage to a few local businesses and residences as well as,” you dragged out the word as you pulled out your tablet and tapped into the mission report to read quickly, “some debris in the surrounding woods. Team A, you’re on the main factory building, Team B, you’re on the damaged buildings in town, and Team C, you’re with me on the debris in the forest. Any questions?” 

“Any chemicals or hazardous materials at the factory?” Joyce, one of the longest standing members of your team and the current lead of Team A asked.

“No,” you tapped a few more times on the tablet just to make sure, “looks like this was just a weapons factory, nothing more hazardous than the normal things like gasoline, oil, and sharp pieces of metal. Make sure you guys are all wearing your nano suits.”

Joyce nodded and, at the same time as everyone else on Team A, held up her hand, showing the fancy StarkTech bands that adorned each one of their wrists. They were a wonderful safety device, preventing anything sharp, caustic, or otherwise harmful from penetrating through while your workers were sifting through debris and cleaning up anything dangerous.

“Wonderful,” you grinned, looking around the bus, “any more questions?” When nobody spoke or raised their hand, you nodded, grabbing your bag from the seat and throwing it over your shoulder. “Alright, let’s get to it! Radios on channel three, and don’t forget to check in every thirty minutes!”

Made Up

Summary: Y/N is using Sam as a guinea pig for something important, but things go awry when Dean and Castiel come home. Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester, Castiel Word Count: 2191 Warnings: Fluff, language, talk of wounds/injuries, sexuality, angst, fluff A/N: A hunter choosing this type of hobby and career path really makes sense. Who better to know what various injuries look like and be able to recreate them? This was beta’d by the lovely @dean-winchesters-bacon and I hope you enjoy! 

Y/N’s tongue was sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she delicately applied the dark powder before smudging it with the pad of her thumb, blending it into the blues and purples that were already present. She sat back, admiring her handiwork, and her canvas smiled.

“How’s it look?” Sam asked.

“Well, seeing has how I already know what a black eye and cuts look like on you, it’s pretty accurate.” Y/N placed the make-up brush down on the kitchen table and narrowed her eyes at the cut across Sam’s cheek. “I’m gonna mess around with this cut again, it looks too plasticy to me.”

Sam nodded and allowed her to turn his chin before she grabbed a pair of tweezers and began reshaping the prosthetic. When she first asked him if she could practice doing makeup on him, he was skeptical and said the last thing he wanted was to be dolled up to look like a drag queen. Once she stopped laughing at him, she explained she was planning to go back to school for special effects makeup, not cosmetology, and needed a portfolio to show the admissions board.

Y/N was a hunter just like him, so it allowed her to create realistic bruises, cuts, and gashes since she’d seen quite a few real examples on herself and the Winchesters over the years. Although hunting was a large part of her life, a close call on a hunt a few weeks ago made her reconsider hunting as a career path. Ever since she was a kid, she loved Halloween and doing her makeup as gory as possible, so when she saw an ad for a local college in Kansas offering a special effects makeup course, she signed up and Sam was gracious enough to be one of her makeup subjects for her portfolio.

Healed

Summary: After running into the Winchesters on a hunt, a secret you’ve kept your entire life comes to light in an emergency situation, leading to some aggressive interactions with one of the brothers. Pairing: Reader x Platonic!Winchesters Word Count: 3593 Warnings: Fluff, language, SPN canon violence and injuries, blood, protective!Dean, fluff, karaoke? A/N: Here I go, being a lore whore again. Researching stories is half the fun, and I hope you all enjoy. This was looked over by @seenashwrite who gave me some wonderful insight on the flow of the story and helped me shape it into the polished gem that is is now. She truly is an amazing writer and amazing person. Gif made by me!

“Of all the dive bars in the entire country,” you said in a sing-songy voice as you approached their table, “I happen to be in the same bar as the Winchesters.”

Both of the brothers looked up from their research and beers, smiling when they saw you at the end of their table with one hand on your hip, the other holding a half empty bottle of whiskey. Sam was the first to stand and wrap his long octopus arms around you, lifting you slightly off the ground in a bone-crushing hug. Dean was next, pressing a kiss to your forehead and hugging you. While his hugs were slightly less constricting than his brother’s, you could feel the tension leaving his body the longer he held you.

“I’ll grab us some extra glasses. Have a seat, Y/N,” Sam said as he smiled at you and headed toward the bar.

Dean shifted to the seat to his left and patted the chair next to him. Making sure Sam was out of earshot, you sat down and leaned closer to Dean. “I take it you two worked things out? I mean, I don’t see any black eyes or busted lips, so you obviously survived a road trip to Branson, Missouri sitting next to each other.”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, nodding his head slightly. “Thanks again for the advice. I know you’re busy doing your own thing and I hate to bother you, but -”

“Dean,” you interrupted, “you’re my friend. I’m here for you whether you need me for hunts or if you’re having brother drama and need someone to heal your emotional wounds. My friendship doesn’t come with any fine print.” You playfully nudged his shoulder and he chuckled softly.