Dean x Reader- Human Maybe?You stood next to Dean. Not just Dean, it was Demonic Dean. He had been bad so, you treated him as if he was a child and put him in timeout. Or a demon trap. He stood there facing you, arguing. Sam was leaning against the wall in the back of the room and Castiel was next to you looking worried. He looked concerned. After all his best friend was pretty much getting interrogated. Now, you would never kill Dean he was still your boyfriend. You were the one too calm him down if he got to mad. You still loved eachother, but you weren't sure if he would cheat on you but, you were trusting him. Now, on occasion Dean would get mad and kill a random person, in which he had to go in the trap. And now was a time. And he was being bitchy.More Like This
"(Y/N), come on. Let me out!" He tried to order you.
"Dean, you are killing innocent people!" You shouted back.
"So? I don't understand why you care so much about them!" He argued.
"Dean! Really? Are we gonna argue about this? You save peo
Bed, Wed, Behead (Avengers X One Shot)[A/N: There is talk of sex in here, and the word "Fuck" But what do you expect from the game "Fuck, Marry, Kill" (also named "Bed, Wed, Behead")?]More Like This
You took your seat in the large circle of couches that had been gathered in the middle of the room in Stark Towers. The other Avengers sat in the seats next to you, Natasha on your right, Steve on your left.
"Alright people," you began, "what game will be playing tonight?" It had become a weekly tradition to play a game with the Avengers. Whether it be a verbal game like Telephone, a physical game like Twister, a digital game on a gaming station like the Wii, or a board game like Monopoly. You held this tradition every week, whether only two of you were able to make it or everyone was. It had become a tradition everyone looked forward to on Wednesday evening.
"I liked the game of twisting we played last week," said the god of thunder in a voice that was a few notches above an inside voice.
"Like you said, we played that last we
SamxHunter!Reader: Hair Washing. You lounged in the Bunker, feet on Sam's lap as both of you read intently. As it had become tradition to exchange favorite books every month or so, a little tidbit to keep both of you sane. He read "Perks Of Being a Wallflower" (a dear favorite of yours) and you read "One Day" which wasn't exactly sappy but you didn't know how else to describe it. Little known fact, you were secretly loving it. Emma and Dexter, opposites attracting, hell you lived for this!More Like This
Not such a little known fact, both of you stank. Reeked even. Having just gotten back from your latest hunt, a slimy-glob ghost and the constant replay of "Who you're gonna call?" on the Impala. Dean was taking a shower, having declared the unholy dibs.
Right before he had gotten in the bathroom, you thought you'd heard the flapping of angel's wings. Quite excited flapping at that. You grinned michesvously. Of course, Sam noticed.
"What's so funny? You should be balling your eyes out by now..."
"Hush, it's just Emma's
You're A What? - Winchesters x ReaderI nervously tug on the sleeves of my jumper before walking down the hall.More Like This
You can do this, I tell myself. You can do this. You can do this. You can
I can't do this. There is no way in Hell I can do this. I can't do this even if someone held a gun to my head or a vampire threatened to change me and the only way out was if I told the boys this crucial fact about myself.
I've managed to keep it from them for the past three years. I could get away with it for the rest of our lives together, can't I? No, I can't. They would start asking questions. Dean's already beginning to make jokes about different aspects of my life - especially when it comes to relationships. I use the same excuses though. We're hunters. I have no time for relationships. You know, the usual crap.
Telling my parents about it wasn't easy. My mother told me that I was lying and that I was making it up. My father had nodded his head and didn't say anything. My brother was confused for a while, questioning me about it and a
Gym (Chris Evans X Chubby!Reader)More Like This
Author’s Note: A lot of things aren’t actually true, so this is pretending that 1) Chris’s dog East is still alive, as I, sadly, believe that he has passed away already, 2) Chris, his brother, Scott, and the reader all live in Boston, 3) Scott is dating Jonathan Groff (because why not and I need it for the plot), and 4) Jonathan Groff has a daughter, who reader kind of treats like her own daughter/a little sibling (Scott also treats her like his daughter). Anyways, this is really random and probably really crappy, but I’m gonna post it anyway, hope you don’t hate it too much!
You hummed contentedly as the warm water rained down, soothing your sore muscles. Your New Year’s resolution had been to lose some weight (you had always been a bit on the chubbier side), so you joined a gym.
And so far, you hated it.
Your abdominal muscles felt like taffy that someone had stretched and stretched beyond repair, your legs felt like they were attached to cinder bl
Chapter 4: Helmet Ceremony Pt. 1More Like This
Loki had awoken on his birthday upon an unearthly hour, he lay in his bed unmoving his muscles sore from his tantrum the night before as his eyes filled with the tinges of the rising sun over the gleaming city of Asgard. He still didn't move but shifted slightly at the sound of his favorite hand maid Gerta enter the room. In her soft voice she called, "My lord are you ready to dress for the ceremony?" Loki glanced her way, he was known to be quite cruel to the servants of the palace since he was a child playing tricks and treating them as though they were dirt beneath his boots.
But Gerta was different when Frigga was not available she had become like a grandmother or aunt of sorts playing with him as a child helping him with his daily morning and evening routines. He groaned, "Gerta I do not wish to stand nor even look upon that armor...I fear father only wishes to bequeath my helmet to me because mother wishes it." Gerta huffed, "Hush my lord, you're more than deserving of that helme