First off is this new multi-chapter fic from @nellblazer:

It’s a Far Cry/MCU crossover as you can see and I just love how Nell writes dark!MCU and crossover fics. It features a variety of our MCU faves with a female reader. The characterization is always on point and the elements blend way better than I ever thought possible. There are currently four chapters and I can’t wait for more! 10/10 because I’m a sucker for the dark and twisty and the smut-leaning chapters are just that good.

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Then we’ve got this monster of a fic/series by @shurisneakers:

This fic/series boasts 14 chapters of Sam Wilson x Reader content with a forthcoming epilogue. It’s a whole ass novella filled with twists and turns and it’s hard for me to gush properly without going into spoilers. 😂 It had the vibes of a well written action thriller. 10/10 if this was a movie I would watch it all of the time.

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Up next is this ongoing series by @kellyn1604:

This series currently boasts two expertly written parts featuring Jareth x Sarah with more to come. This series is written by an adult for adults and the sheer depth of the language and content shows and it is refreshing! What she does so wonderfully with writing for Labyrinth is how complicated the relationship dynamics are, and what I like the lost is how she tackles Sarah. Her age, the complexities of growing up, of loss and trauma- its navigated with an impressive ease. 10/10 It’s also some of the most enchanting fiction I’ve read in a while and I’m patiently looking forward to more, should the inspiration rise.

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And last but not least I finally read through the last of this series by @laketaj24

“This hotel is pretty far off, like in the middle of nowhere far off...” (Y/N) exclaimed, pulling the map closer to her face. She squinted, reading the street names and turns. Dean chuckled, setting the map down onto her lap. She sighed, looking around the car when she noticed a small card. She picked it up, and after reading it, she scowled.

“You applied for a caretaker job? Dean, I know we needed some money but really? This is supposed to be our vacation!” She whined, turning to Dean. He exhaled loudly, turning on the radio for some music. 

“Dean,” She called out, sternly. In response, he turned the volume louder, and began singing with it, tuning her out. She grumbled, tossing the card onto the backseat. 

After about 2 hours, they had taken a small break. Dean had run off to use the bathroom, which left (Y/N) in the passenger seat, watching the seconds pass on her watch. She got bored quite quickly which resulted in her yanking out her phone from her purse, and dialing Sam.

“What’s up?” The younger Winchester’s voice buzzed with excitement.

“Nothing much, except I found out that Dean applied for a caretaker job at the hotel we’re gonna stay in.” She replied, huffing in annoyance. She could practically hear Sam becoming confused.

“He did what now?” He asked, and she cleared her throat, starting to explain it all until she noticed Dean coming back.

“I’ll call you later.” She said, abruptly. She hung up, stashing the phone back into her purse and smiled at Dean as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He glanced at her, before revving up the car once again. Breathing a sigh of relief, she fixed her gaze out the window, admiring the scenery as the car was back on the road. Her eyes started to droop, and before she knew it, she was fast asleep. 

She was awoken by a loud honk from the car, and she glared at Dean, fumbling out. He laughed, hands filled with suitcases. 

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” He said, in a sing-song tone. She whined, grabbing the baskets of food from the trunk. She turned to the hotel and her heart sunk. Sure, she wasn’t expecting a 5 star one, but she sure as hell wasn’t expecting this place. This was like, the epitome of where ghosts live. She stared at Dean, shocked by his nature.

“What the hell, Dean?” She cried out, dropping the baskets. 

“What do you mean?” He questioned, irritated by the fact that she just dropped the food onto the ground.

“You chose this for our vacation? For all we know, there’s probably ghosts in there. This was for us to relax, not hunt again!”

“We’re not going to hunt these things, because there’s nothing in there, (Y/N).”

“Dean, honestly, what the hell were you thinking?!?”

“Enough!” Dean roared, silencing her up. He had never used that tone on her, and she flinched. They both stood there for a couple more seconds, before (Y/N) snatched her suitcase from him and stormed inside. The place was practically deserted, nobody was here. The lobby was dark and gloomy, only a small lamp at the front desk that illuminated through the entire place. She held down some of her anger and ascended the stairs. The creaking didn’t help her frustration and she paused for a slight second before taking another step up. She walked up to their room’s door, kicking it open and plopped onto the bed. It was rock hard, and the pillows looked like people had thrown up over them countless of times. She whined, wanting nothing more than to go back to Bobby’s house. 

“I should’ve planned the trip,” She scoffed. A couple minutes later, Dean entered the room, dropping down the food and other suitcases. He didn’t even look at her when he said

“Alright, let’s go meet the hotel manager.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, sitting still. Was there even a hotel manager in this place? She thought to herself, still disgusted by her surroundings. Dean glared at her, signaling her to stand up. She glared right back, not wanting to lose this battle. The tension in the air was thick, and no it wasn’t the usual sex-crazed-but-too-stubborn-to-do-anything type, but more of it was the need to scream and punch at each other. Dean growled, signaling her to stand up once again. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” She stated, bitterly. Dean nodded, looking around for a while, before forcefully grabbing her arm.

“Dean, what the-”

“Shut it!” He hissed, dragging her downstairs into the lobby. She was clawing him at this point, trying to get him off her. He didn’t even bother to listen to her pleas and cries. All of a sudden, he let go, sending her falling to the ground with thump! She winced as she got up, rubbing her sore arm as she maintained a steady scowl at Dean. The older Winchester had never treated any woman like this, she was sure of it. What ever happened to the, “I respect woman,” tune that he marched to every day? She scowled at him and then her eyes fell on a wiry, old man. If she thought this place couldn’t get any creepier, she was surely wrong. The man stared at her, no words were uttered but the eyes spoke so much in an instant. He was a perverted fuck and she was just a second close to shooting him, but Dean broke the silence by clearing his throat. 

“Thanks for appointing me, I’m sure this place will be in good hands.” (Y/N) nearly gagged, forcing herself to look around and search for anything that would make this place worth-while. It was already set in her mind that she was going to call Sam and Bobby, they’ll know what to do. 

During the night, Dean had gotten new pillowcases and comforters. They were surprisingly clean, considering the state that the rest of the hotel was in. However, she didn’t feel like sleeping and took this time to call her ‘best buddy.’ 

“Hey Sam,” She whispered, looking back at Dean to make sure he was still sleeping. He stirred in his sleep, getting himself comfortable.

“What’s wrong? What else stupid choices did Dean make?” Sam snarled from the other side of phone. (Y/N) sighed in response,

“Well, he took me to the most creepiest hotel ever. With an equally creepy hotel manager.” 

“Is Dean asleep?”

“You bet he is, the fucker’s sleeping peacefully as if nothing’s wrong.” She growled, and suddenly Dean opened his eyes. He moaned out her name, asking her what was going on.

“It’s just a friend, Dean. Go back to sleep.” She said, softly. His head fell back onto the pillow, retreating back to slumber. (Y/N) took a breath of relief, before turning back to the corner of the room,

“Tell Bobby what’s happening. Goodnight, Sam.”

“Yeah, goodnight, (Y/N).” She hung up, staring out of the window. The moon was bright, and honestly it was the only clean thing she could think about. She had no idea how Dean was sleeping in here, and now she wanted answers. She wanted to know what was wrong with him, but for now, she had to at least try and go to sleep. She shifted onto the bed, dragging the covers over her. She silently hoped there wasn’t going to be any rats or bugs waiting for her when she opened her eyes again. Dean’s soft snores was the only thing to comfort her, and she wrapped her arm around him, inhaling his familiar scent. She dozed off, waiting for tomorrow.

(Y/N) woke up with a groan. The blinding light forced her eyes open and the first thing she noticed was the empty space next to her. She frowned, rubbing her eyes a bit before lazily getting up.

“Dean!” She called out. No answer. She opened their room’s door and called out his name once again, and there was still no answer. She was freaking out, she didn’t want to be left alone in this hotel, surely not in this room. 

Meanwhile, Dean was in their bathroom but he didn’t respond. He heard her cries for him, but he didn’t open the door. He didn’t appear before her with his signature smirk, instead he was busy trying to understand what was happening to him. He had undressed himself, prepping himself to take a nice, long bath until he noticed his face in the mirror. His eyes had faltered for a moment and he swore he had black eyes. He was reverting back into something he didn’t want. He had kept this secret from everyone for so long, and if anyone found out he would die. No, he had to keep quiet, not utter any sounds. He debated whether or not he should go to (Y/N), and he stood still, his feet planted onto the hard tiles that were fading into a color of something close to light brown. 

“Dean!” She called out, and he sighed opening the bathroom door to reveal himself in nothing but a simple towel, that was tightly wrapped around his waist. She inhaled sharply, looking at him before her face settled into an angry expression.

“I called your name like a thousand times and you were in the bathroom the entire fucking time?” She screeched, and before she could utter another word, Dean yanked her into the bathroom, pushing her into the bathtub. Usually by this time, they would have been making out, but she wasn’t having it. The water was trickling down her, completely drenching her. Her clothes became transparent and Dean licked his lips, taking in her entire form. She frowned, failing to push him away from her. He had her up against the shower wall, lips crashing. She melted, forgiving him instantly. She smiled into the kiss, arms wrapping against him. When all clothes were gone, and hands were roaming her body as a pretty little mouth was kissing her neck, she opened her eyes.

Her eyes had caught something she never thought she would see, and she bit her lip feeling the water run down her back. Dean’s eyes weren’t the perfect green she usually would see, but instead they were black. She shut her eyes hard, and slowly opened them again and it was like nothing ever happened. It was still Dean, and those eyes were back to normal. She couldn’t shake the feeling off her and she frowned as her lover seemed to search her face to find what was bothering her,

“Is something wrong?” He asked, hands sliding down to her core. She was about to answer him until he slipped a finger in, causing her to choke out his name. She rested her head at the crook of his neck, and as he began pumping into her, she kept quiet on what she had seen, maybe she could bring it up later.

When they both were exhausted due to the multiple orgasms, they crashed onto the bed, snuggling with each other. (Y/N) had tried hard not to moan so loudly (possibly due to the creepy hotel manager) but Dean’s skillful hands, mouth and that fucking cock was too much to handle. She wanted to bring up what she saw, however there was a growing fear on how he might react to her. (Y/N) ultimately made up her mind to keep quiet, it was probably just an hallucination or something, Dean couldn’t be a demon... or could he?

The next few days felt off, not just because Dean kept straying further and further, but the atmosphere itself didn’t feel right. (Y/N) had her eyes on Dean the entire time, watching his movement and behavior and just as she suspected, they were all off. During the times they’d eat together, he’d be real quiet, staring blankly at the plate or some wall that was next to him. When they were cuddled up watching the TV together, he would stare at it with a blank face, and when it was something related to gore, he would get all excited and comment about how the killer should’ve used a different technique to murder the victim,

“It’d be quicker and efficient.” He stated and her blood ran cold in response. 

One particular night, (Y/N) had gone off to sleep early, wanting to get some more sleep than usual. She wrapped herself up with blankets and dozed off quite quickly, until a few minutes later she woke up, instantly. She heard scraping noises coming near her, and she got up, turning on the lamp, only to find Dean sitting on a chair, sharpening his knives.

“Uh, what the- I mean, what are you doing?” She asked, trying to sound a bit polite so Dean wouldn’t stab her with them.

“Sharpening my knives,” He replied, blandly. There was some kind of glimmer in his eyes as he stared down at the shiny metal. She sat there on her bed, choosing her next words carefully.

“Hey, Dean?” She called out, and the hunter raised an eyebrow in response, his eyes still glued to the knives as he continued sharpening them.

“I think we should pack up and go home.” The words fell out of her mouth sooner than she thought it would and Dean stopped every movement, turning his head slowly to face her. She gulped, grabbing a pillow and using it as shield.

“Why’d you say that?” He asked, his voice calm but there was something hidden in it that terrified her more than anything else. Her breath hitched in her throat, her mind racing on how to reply to that properly.

“You’ve... You’ve been acting off.” She whispered, eyes falling from Dean onto the bedsheets in front of her. He squinted his eyes, slowly getting up from his seat.

“I’m not off.”

“I never said you were, I said you were acting off...” 

Silence. The room was just silent. Dean’s eyes bore into her soul and for the first time, she felt scared. She had hunted a dozen monsters and creatures but nothing could prepare her for this... this person in front of her. Dean scoffed and walked out the room, slamming the door shut. She jumped a bit, before sinking deep into the covers. She reached out for her gun, her entire body shaking as she did so. Why was she so scared all of a sudden, if he was a demon, she’d surely know how to deal with him. She was hunter, but... but there was something else to this and she wanted- no needed to find out what it was.

The next morning, (Y/N) creeped downstairs. She looked around, making sure no one would see her. Her heart felt like it was about to explode, her breathing becoming labored and her hand sweating profusely as she gripped onto her gun for her dear life. She slipped into a room, closing the door carefully before turning around to face a small desk in the middle of the room. The curtains were drawn, revealing a dark cemetery through the windows,

“How perfect,” She mumbled, walking up to the wooden bureau. Papers were scattered everywhere, the red ink blaring at her. Before she could make out the words, she noticed a device at the corner of the table. It was her phone and she gasped quietly, hands flying to grab it. She scrolled through it, realizing Sam had called her hundreds of times and she immediately blamed Dean. 

Alright this is enough for me, she thought to herself, heading to the exit but she stopped. The papers were still there, and though it had no possibility of moving or talking, it grasped onto her. It beckoned for her to come closer and read it, despite knowing that Dean would probably be here in any second. She looked back at it and for once she had to choose,

Risk everything and read that paper or get yelled at by Dean and possibly... get killed?

Her mind was racing, her forehead throbbing from all the tension and suspense and she simply said, “Fuck it,” and went to see what the red ink had to tell her. She pocketed her gun, and held the papers close and her eyes widened as she realized that it wasn't red ink, it was blood.

“She can’t know you’re a -” She read through, but that was it. The last word was erased or smudged and though Dean must've written this multiple times, each time the end was gone. It wasn’t until she grabbed the last piece of paper (that seemed to be unfinished) did she really become surprised.

That’s what the last word was.... it was demon.

Suddenly, she heard voices speaking outside and she looked out the window to find Dean and someone else talking to each other. (Y/N) crouched down, ultimately crawling out of the room and shutting the door close, praying that Dean would never know about the situation. Racing upstairs, she burst into the bedroom and locked it shut, and then crashed onto the bed. 

It was late at night, the wind outside had died down and Dean had finally come back into the hotel. After receiving tips on how to be less obvious of his secret, he walked into his little room near the lobby. The minute he walked in, he knew. He just knew (Y/N) had came here. He stared at the desk, running up to it and then he groaned, she figured it out. She knew all about it. The phone was gone, and the papers were all messed up. 

“The little bitch,” He cursed, running out the door. “(Y/N)!” At first, Dean was just willing to talk to her and explain about himself, but each step he took felt a step down the wrong path. He was calling her, calling her blood. Every second that passed made him only crazier and by the end of it all, he wanted to see her blood run down his hands.

She could hear him and she felt her gut dropping down at least 3 feet. He was screaming out her name and the other voice on the phone didn’t calm her down at all.

“(Y/N) what’s happening?” Sam asked, his voice bringing the smallest amount of comfort. She was crying at this point, stifling her shaky breaths and tears as she ripped the door open and raced the opposite way and through a secret entrance she found when she began walking around the hotel. Her gun was still with her and she silenced Sam slightly by lowering the volume on her phone,

“Sam,” She croaked out, her voice barely above a whisper. On the other side of the phone, Sam was panicking and he grabbed Bobby’s car keys, desperate to go retrieve his friend safely.

“Stay with me, (Y/N).” He stated, racing past a confused Bobby and into his car.

“Whoa, Sam!” The old man cried out, trying to grab the younger Winchester’s attention, but it was too late. Sam was already on the road, the car driving at a high speed.

Meanwhile back at the hotel, (Y/N) was in a locked room, sitting fairly close to the window. If Dean came breaking through the door, she had a quick option to leap through the panels and run for her life. This wasn’t what she planned the vacation to be and she kept praying to have Sam come bursting through the door instead and save her from the monster Dean had become. The door to the room jiggled, as if someone on the other side was furiously trying to open the door and come in. Just from the footsteps, she knew who it was and she braced for impact.

Sam had reached the hotel in a matter of minutes, outracing a couple police officers as he did so, because nothing mattered more to him than having his friend being saved from Dean. Dean was a ruthless guy when he wasn’t himself, and by no means would he want her harmed. He prayed to God, praying that nothing happened to (Y/N), that this was all gonna be good and he could go fix his brother before he did something he would regret later.

“(Y/N)!” He called out through the phone, walking up to the hotel and realizing that she really meant it when she said the hotel was creepy. “Come on, please, answer me!”

He took another step noticing that a familiar figure was pulling the door open. Sam halted in his tracks, squinting his eyes to make out who it was. They were all filled with blood stains, one hand gripping an equally bloody knife. The other was holding a phone near their ear, and they beamed. Sam bit back a cry, holding the urge to charge at his brother. Dean’s black eyes bore into his soul, the signature smirk still present as he opened his mouth to greet his little brother,