Reflection

Summary: Working at Stark Industries meant a lot of sleepless nights. But when you run into Steve one night, you notice he might be in the same boat as you. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (platonic-ish) Word Count: 2793 Warnings: Language, angst, talk of bad childhoods and experiences, fluff A/N: I’m trying to get out of my writer’s block, so I apologize for the lack of stories. I was hoping to have Wildfire up this weekend, but every time I went to work on it, my brain would just short out, so I decided to see if something would flow from my WIP’s, and here we are! It’s a bittersweet story about Steve and his loss of self-identity. It was beta’d by @saxxxology and the below gif was made by me. Enjoy!

Marvel Masterlist

The light tapping on your knee drew you from slumber, and you blearily blinked open your eyes as you sat up, grimacing as you peeled off the piece of paper stuck to your face. The pen was still in your hand, albeit loosely held, and you rubbed your eyes before looking over at what woke you.

“Hi, Dum-E,” you cooed, smiling when he opened and closed his metal claw excitedly. “Thanks for waking me up.”

The robot let out a soft melodic stream of beeps before waving his arm and rolling away from the table and back toward the main workshop area, only bumping into one table along the way. The new AI coding you’d been developing at Stark Industries had come a long way, and Dum-E was definitely evidence of that. Although he might not be as “smart” as the other robots, he held a special place in your heart.

“Jarvis?” you said through a yawn.

“Yes, Miss Y/L/N?”

“Is Tony asleep?” you asked, lethargically shuffling various papers into their respective folders and closing your laptop.

“He retired a little over an hour ago, and is currently asleep upstairs with Miss Pots,” the AI informed you. “Do you require his assistance?”

“No!” you shouted, before clearing your throat. “Er, sorry, Jarvis. No, I don’t. I’m glad he’s sleeping. The man can go an impossible amount of time without sleep.”

“Indeed. I have had to call Miss Potts or Captain Rogers for assistance in the past when he surpasses the safety thresholds I am programmed with.” Jarvis sounded almost disappointed, like an annoyed father.

The Freedom of Music

Summary: Bucky’s musical knowledge has been lacking, so you plan on making sure he broadens his taste. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic) Word Count: 2381 Warnings: Minor angst, canon violence, language, FLUFF A/N: This was written for @captain-rogers-beard​ and her One Hit Wonder Writing Challenge. Congrats on your milestone, Mimi! My song was “We’re Not Gonna Take It” by Twisted Sister. I have other songs in this as well, but Twisted Sister takes the main stage. This was beta’d by the lovely @saxxxology​. Enjoy!

Marvel Masterlist

The sound of the quinjet became a low hum in the background when you slipped your earbuds into your ears. There was something so freeing about being cut off from the outside world, at least in an auditory sense, and the peaceful disassociation allowed you to prep your mind for the upcoming mission.

When the first few guitar strums of Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” filled your ears, your eyes fluttered shut. Music was an escape, and the team thankfully had no idea what songs you like. From classic rock to 80’s punk rock anthems, you had a plethora of music to listen to, no matter what mood you were in. The mission you were en route to would require a lot of concentration, so the soft melodic beginning part of “Nothing Else Matters” allowed you to relax, but as the beat picked up throughout the song, your adrenaline began to pump, readying you for a fight.

A warm hand touched your shoulder, and you opened your eyes to see Steve looking down at you with a soft smile on his face. He waited until you removed one of your earbuds before speaking.

“We’re about to touch down. You ready?”

Tugging the cord to your earbuds, you pulled the other one out of your ear and gave him a nod. “Yup, ready to go, Cap.”

Steve tightened the straps around his arms and slipped his shield onto his back before turning to address the various Avengers milling about in the jet. “Right, so Y/N, you’re going to be paired with Bucky, Nat is with me, and Clint will be with Sam watching the exits for runners. Everyone ready?”

Markers and Magnets

Summary: An awkward drunken interaction with Bucky brings to light how he feels about his arm. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic) Word Count: 2151 Warnings: Angst, alcohol induced awkwardness, language, literally so much fluff you’re going to need a bigger boat A/N: Another idea that came from daydreaming, I’m really proud of how this turned out and this is something I would definitely do! This was beta’d by the lovely @saxxxology, gif made by me. Enjoy!

Marvel Masterlist

“Y/N?”

“Ya-huh.”

“What’re you doing?”

Blinking up at Bucky, you shrug, taking another sip of your drink before returning your attention to Bucky’s metal arm. “Magnets.”

“I can see that.” Bucky twists his upper body slightly to watch you closer, balancing his beer bottle on his knee. “But why?”

“Y’arm… it’s shiny and deserves decorations,” you slur, pushing the outrageously bright pink magnet of a flower up the side of his arm toward the red star on his shoulder. “I didn’t think they’d stick. What’s this thing made of?”

“I don’t… really remember,” Bucky says through his clenched teeth. “Never got to ask, and it’s not like I want to read my Hydra file and hope there’s something in there about what metal alloy they used.”

The noise of people talking in the area you were sitting in is suddenly a lot quieter, but your alcohol hazed brain doesn’t register the sudden quiet, the tense muscles in Bucky’s body, nor the tension in his voice.

“Yeah, I get it, but you’d think they wouldn’t want it to be magnetic, right?” You bring your drink up to your face, miss your mouth, and let out a giggled snort as you focus your crossed eyes on the blurry cup in your hand and bring it slowly to your mouth to drink. “Got any hidden compartments that you can hide snacks in?” You poke a finger around the silver plates with squinted eyes.

High Times

Summary: Bucky asks about the way you deal with stress and insomnia. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic) Word Count: 3035 Warnings: Fluff, language, minor angst, drug use (weed), Bucky being adorable, so much fluff A/N: Since a lot of the stigma around marijuana has vanished over the last 10 years, it really made me wonder how men out of their time, like Bucky and Steve, would react to it being legalized. Curiosity really seems like a Bucky trait, especially with how much he’s missed out on, and it’s my own personal hope that if he ever has a chance to partake, it would help him sleep or relieve any pain he has. I’m recovering from surgery myself, so I was quite high while writing some of this lol. This was beta’d by the lovely @saxxxology​. Enjoy!

Marvel Masterlist

The unexpected knock on your door is timid, yet forceful, and you know exactly who it is before he speaks. Not unlike the way he knocks, Bucky’s always been quiet and shy around most of the other Avengers, but if something comes up that he’s passionate about, he makes sure his opinion is voiced. That being said, you know what time period he hails from, and you quickly stub out the blunt you’re smoking, exhale out of the open window before closing it, and tuck your box of goodies back under your bed.

“Come in.”

The door opens and a mop of unruly dark hair appears around the edge of the door. Bucky’s tired blue eyes meet yours and he smiles before slipping into your room, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t say anything, but you see his nose twitch at the pungent smell that is likely still swirling around your room. The serum running through his veins heightens his sense of smell, so even though you can barely detect the odor, you know he must be able to discern it clear as day. Even though it’s legal, you’re nervous at his reaction, but you ignore your anxiety and raise one of your eyebrows, silently asking what he wants.

“Hey, umm, I wanted to know if you were going to be doing yoga tomorrow morning?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at the fidgety and shifty behavior you are failing miserably at hiding. “Are you okay?”

“M’fine, Buck,” you chirp, willing your body to fight the lethargy clawing its way up your body. “I’ll be out on the terrace at around seven. Were you wanting to join me?”

Crash Landing

Summary: A normal day at your bakery takes an interesting turn, but lucky for your unexpected guest, you are definitely not normal. Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (platonic) Word Count: 2707 Warnings: Fluff, language, angst, injuries, blood, violence, Tony being Tony, more fluff A/N: Hoo boy! This story just poured out of me. It was written for @sunmoonandbucky​​ and her 5k Constellations writing challenge! Congrats on the milestone, Hann! The prompt I chose is from one of my favorite movies, Misery, and is in bold in the fic. I completely flipped the context in this fic though. It was beta’d by the amazingly talented @cake-writes​​ and the gif was made by me! Enjoy!

Marvel Masterlist

Living in Nebraska had never been your dream. But then again, was it honestly anyone’s dream? The wonderful state of Nebraska was just far enough from your hometown that nobody would be able to find you, which worked out well for your predicament. The last thing you needed was to be thrown in a lab and poked and prodded until scientists and doctors could figure out how you worked.

It wasn’t like you asked for your abilities. According to a journal you found shortly after your parents died, some distant great-great something rescued an imprisoned man who turned out to be some kind of demigod. Said demigod blessed your ancestor with healing abilities that, as long as the bloodline stayed pure and didn’t use the power for maliciousness, would be passed down from generation to generation.

Of course, all of this was supposed to be explained to you once you started showing the abilities, but a drunk driver decided to remove that possibility from your life a few days before your eighteenth birthday. Only by dumb luck did you find the journal while cleaning out your parents’ home and less than a week later, you learned about your abilities by mistake.

It was an accident. Any person would stop to comfort an injured and crying child. The moment you placed your hand a few inches away from the wound, your hands began to tingle and glow a deep blue color. It scared you, but before you could have a full on freak out, the kid’s skinned knee sealed up and vanished, leaving no trace of an injury.

The kid asked in awe, “What are you?”

That was a good question.

Familiarize Yourself

Summary: The pull of a witch leads you to an interesting place. Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (platonic), Dean Winchester Word Count: 1713 Warnings: Minor angst, minor violence, fluff A/N: This has been a fic idea in my phone for the last year or so and I really wonder what would happen if this were to occur in the show. Sam is very proficient at magic, and I think it could totally be possible. Thank you so much for reading! This was beta’d by @saxxxology, gif made by me. Enjoy!

The rusted iron door in front of you seemed oddly ominous. Normally when you felt the pull of a witch, it was to a house or apartment… not to a strange water processing plant in the middle of Kansas. Strange ideas were running through your head so rapidly, you didn’t get a chance to knock before the door swung open and a gun was in your face.

A startled squeak left your lips and you raised both your hands. “Don’t shoot me!”

The gun lowered slightly, and a pair of piercing green eyes roamed up and down your body. “Who’re you? And why have you been standing out here for twenty minutes?”

The pull was stronger now, but this man was not who you were seeking. “Does someone else live with you?”

The green eyes narrowed. “Listen, lady, I’m not telling you squat until you tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.”

Blood Haven

Summary: Y/N finds herself in a bad situation and the Winchesters help as much as they can. Characters: Peter (OMC) x Reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Maggie, Aaron (OMC), Camille (OFC), various others Word Count: 3686 Warnings: Language, angst, non-con, incestual voyeurism, canon violence, trauma, mild fluff A/N:  This takes care of the Voyeurism square for @spnkinkbingo. This is as close to actually writing a full non-con scene that I will ever come (it’s not too explicit). If you don’t want to read that part, skip the text that is in italics, it can be read without it. If the feedback from this is positive enough, I will write a part two with a time jump. :) It was beta’d by the lovely @dean-winchesters-bacon and the gif was made by me.

Swiping the tears from her eyes, Y/N took a deep breath and squeezed tighter on the steering wheel as if it was the only thing grounding her. She glanced in the rear view mirror, staring at the piles of her belongings crowding the back seat. It was one thing to come home and find Peter, her boyfriend of three years, cheating on her, but it was another thing entirely to find him cheating on her with her brother.

After twenty minutes full of arguments and excuses, Y/N packed up everything that couldn’t be replaced and piled it into her car, speeding down the road and out of town, not even bothering to look back. The betrayal stung, but being a freelance computer programmer allowed her to be nomadic while still earning an income to survive. She passed the state line almost three hours ago, and the urge to drown her sorrows became too great.

A flickering neon sign for The Blood Haven Bar appeared on the horizon another thirty minutes later, and Y/N shrugged, pulling into the parking lot. There were quite a few cars in the lot, probably a usual amount for a Saturday night, and Y/N parked toward the back of the lot and grabbed some cash and her ID out of her purse. There was a group of rowdy bikers outside the main entrance that whistled when she walked past, but Y/N paid them no mind. She was here to drown her sorrows, not for a rebound.

Cat Scratch Fever - Part 2

Summary: As the reader’s body continues to change, she finds herself in a bad spot when her primal instincts take over. Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel Word Count: 3631 Warnings: Angst, shit hitting the fan, mention of minor character deaths (not graphic), more angst, language, sexuality, fluff A/N: Part two and it is now complete! Nothing like a good cat fight, right? Right?  It was beta’d by @kittenofdoomage and gif made by me. Enjoy! -Part 1-

You felt someone shifting you into their arms and carrying you, but the hand that was stroking you was now scratching at your ears, so you remained with your eyes closed. Sam and Dean’s voices were surrounding you, but you couldn’t understand what they were saying. It sounded muffled and far away, like they were on a speakerphone across the room. The arms that were holding you deposited you onto something soft, and you drifted off, not feeling the cold metal of the shackle as it was fastened around your ankle.

The next time you woke, you rolled to your hands and knees and stretched, leaning down so your arms were out in front of you on the soft blanket and your ass was up in the air.

“Y/N?”

You turned around quickly and tilted your head when you saw Sam. It was then when you realized you were chained in the dungeon, and the shackle around your ankle jingled as you shifted towards him. Fear bristled inside you and you immediately got into a crouch and growled, trying to shake the chain off your right foot.

Sam said something to you, his palm facing you to calm you, but you couldn’t understand what he said. His lips were moving but you could only hear mumbled speech in a soft baritone voice. It sounded like the adults on the old Peanuts cartoons, and your eyes went wide. Opening your mouth to say something, you began to talk, but your words came out as squeaks, whimpers, and pathetic mewls.

Busted

Summary: On a slow day in the bunker, an unanswered question becomes too much to resist, leading to some interesting discoveries. Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Word Count: 1816 Warnings: Language, violence, blood/gore, dark comedy, bad dude getting some karma A/N: This is kinda borderline crack, and definitely something I would do as a hunter. I have a really dark sense of humor so this made me giggle while writing it. I think we’ve all wondered this, and I hope you enjoy the imagery. :) It was beta’d by @saxxxology​ and the gif made by me and very relevant.

It all began as general curiosity. As a hunter, Y/N knew how they worked, but she didn’t know exactly how well they worked. Dean was able to escape one when he was being cured, and Ramiel wasn’t phased by the one drawn on the floor in his house or on the bullets Dean shot into him. So, for this experiment, she decided to use a regular demon in order to get a nice baseline.

“What’s Y/N been up to?” Sam asked, walking into the kitchen and taking a seat across from his brother at the table. It had been a few days since he’d seen her for more than five minutes at a time.

“No idea,” Dean replied between bites of his burger, “but she’s been studying a lot recently. Ever since we got back from that shapeshifter hunt, I keep seeing her grabbing books from the library and bringing them to her room.”

“What kind of books?” Sam reached out and grabbed a french fry from Dean’s plate before he could swat his hand away.

Dean scowled as his brother happily chewed the crispy fry. “I dunno. Old ones. She was getting them from the hunting basics section that you and Charlie made. Like, the ones that explain monsters, weapons, and other stuff that help us level the playing field.”

Burgers and Blunts

Summary: Sam finds you in a compromising situation, but decides to keep his mouth shut for a small fee. Characters: Sam x Reader (platonic), Dean x Reader (platonic) Word Count: 498 Warnings: Drug use, language, crack!fic A/N: This is for @impala-dreamer‘s “Tell Me a Funny Story Crack Drabble Challenge” and my selected quote is in bold in the fic. I barely made the word count, I had to struggle so hard. It’s short and sweet and I hope you all enjoy the giggly crack. This was beta’d by @saxxxology. Enjoy!

“Sam?! What are you doing out here?” You squealed, scrambling to try and hide the half-smoked joint behind your back while waving a hand around in front of you.

The younger Winchester only watched your uncoordinated flailing from his spot on the concrete steps outside the bunker, a sly smirk on his face. “Dean was looking for you,” Sam answered, taking a step closer and leaning to his side. “Whatcha got there, Y/N?”

“Nothing,” you lied. Neither brother knew about your herbal self-medication, and the last thing you needed was more judgmental stares. Sam crossed his arms across his chest and only grinned at you, making you roll your eyes and cave. “Fine, it’s a joint, Sam. Are you going to rat me out to Detective Dean?” The last words of your sentence were dripping in sarcasm.

Fledgling Furor

Summary: After being summoned to aid Castiel with the Winchesters while he is away, you learn new things about humanity and even make a few discoveries about yourself along the way. Characters: Angel!Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel Word Count: 3952 (whoops?) Warnings: Angel awkwardness, FLUFF, minor angst, allusions to a sex act? A/N: This was a request from @sireennotsiren that read:  “can i request a fic where the reader is castiel's littlest sister (like the youngest angel) and she tags along with cas when he visits the winchesters? and they get along well and she becomes a part of tfw?” Well, I hope you don’t mind that I ran with the idea and kept running. Almost 4k words, I couldn’t stop myself. I don’t think I know how to drabble anymore. I’ve become a word monster. Haha. I hope you enjoy! This was beta’d by the ever so lovely @atc74. Gif made by me.

From the moment you were created, you knew you were meant for something more than the boring mundane tasks of normal angels. You had need for knowledge and exploration that consumed you. Even though you were still a fledgling, your curiosity constantly got the better of you and the constant barrage of questions to your older siblings made them steer clear of you.

Until you met Castiel.

You had heard stories about him. He saved a man from Hell, had been trapped in Purgatory, and even had Lucifer use his vessel. He was almost like a celebrity in some angel social circles, and that’s why it surprised you when he approached you one day. He needed to take care of a few things in Heaven, and you were tasked to assist the Winchesters with any angelic guidance they needed. He said he would stay with you for the first few days while you adjusted, but after that, you would be on your own.

The Winchesters were just as famous as Castiel, if not more so, and you were unexpectedly excited about the assignment. You were still very young and had not had many opportunities to interact with humans, which is why this assignment was somewhat confusing. The last time you were on Earth was several years ago when your older brother wanted to show you some of the fantastic new inventions that humans have imagined.

“Y/N,” Castiel gently touched your shoulder, “are you okay in there?”

You blinked at him and nodded your head, pushing the memories away. You straightened the suit jacket your vessel was wearing and took a deep breath. “Castiel, may I ask you a question?”