#sam winchester x native american reader

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Croatoan | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: implied suicidal ideation, canon violence, canon gore, medical stuff lol

Word Count: 6176

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Sam had another vision; one involving Dean killing some dude strapped to a chair. Apparently, the dude had been begging, saying, “It’s not in me!” 

‘What’s not in him, though? A demon? THE demon?’ you thought as he relayed his story.

“Well, I’m sure he had good reason,” you told Sam when he was finished.

“Well, I sure hope so—”

“What does that mean?” Dean grunted.

Sam didn’t reply.

“I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man,” he scoffed.

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

“He wouldn’t, Sam,” you stated, your tone warning.

“I never said he would!”

“Sure seemed implied,” you commented.

“Look, we don't know what it is,” sighed Sam. “But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what.”

“Fine,” Dean said.

“Fine,” said Sam.

The rest of the drive to Crater Lake, Oregon, was done in silence. 

***

You pulled into the small town of Rivergrove along the main strip of small businesses and homely apartment complexes. Most of the shops almost looked like wooden cabins, and you approached a man sitting under one of the wooden overhangs cleaning a rifle. 

“Morning,” Dean called.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” He turned to you.

“Yeah.” Dean pulled out his badge. “Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Kymberly Herrin. U.S. Marshals.”

The man furrowed his brows. “What’s this about?”

“We're looking for someone,” he answered.

“A young man, early twenties,” added Sam. “He'd have a— a thin scar right below his hairline.”

The man seemed surprised. “What’d he do?”

“Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us,” Sam replied. 

“Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, not yet,” Dean chuckled. He looked down at the intricate tattoo on the man’s forearm. “I think maybe you know who he is… Master Sergeant.” He smiled. “My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal.”

“What company?” the man asked.

“Echo-2-1,” Dean replied, smiling proudly. 

Sam got back to business. “So, can you help us?”

The man hesitated before talking again. “Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean.”

Dean nodded. “Oh, I'm sure he does. Um. You know where he lives?”

“With his family, up Aspen Way.”

“Thank you.”

You bumped into a telephone pole as you and the brothers headed back to the car. You looked down at it, and something caught your eye. There was a single word etched into the pole: “CROATOAN.” You brushed your fingers over the etching. “Guys, look.”

“Croatoan?” Dean read.

“Yeah.”

Dean looked at you blankly.

Sam gave him a look. “Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?”

“Yeah! Shots heard 'round the world, How bills become laws…” Dean trailed off.

“That's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock,” Sam scoffed.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Anywho,” you cut back in. “Roanoke was one of the first English colonies— late 1500s-ish?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that,” Dean said excitedly. “The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan.”

“Yeah. There were theories,” you continued. “Native American raid, disease, famine, but nobody really knows what happened. They were all just… gone. Wiped out overnight.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean—”

Sam cut him off with a sigh. “Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?”

“Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so…” Dean trailed off.

“We should get help. Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe?” Sam suggested.

“Good idea,” you said. You pulled out your phone to call Bobby, only to discover you had no signal. “Great. No signal.”

The two brothers took their phones out as well. 

“Huh, me neither,” said Sam. 

“Nada,” Dean stated.

“Payphone, maybe?” you tried, leading the boys over to one. Unfortunately for you, all you heard was a beeping to signify no signal. “Line's dead.” You hung up the phone.

“I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step,” Dean noted, pointing at the payphone. 

***

You pulled up in front of a homely, slightly tacky cabin. Sam rapped his knuckles against the door, and almost immediately, a teenage boy opened it.

“Yeah?” he grinned.

Dean flashed his badge. “We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?”

“Yeah, he's my brother,” the boy nodded.

“Can we talk to him?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. “Oh, he's not here right now.”

“Do you know where he is?” Dean pressed.

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake.”

“Your parents home?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, they're inside,” the boy nodded.

“Jake?” a voice called. ‘Oh, that’s his name.’ “Who is it?”

Dean spoke as the owner of the voice appeared. “Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane.”

Mr. Tanner seemed confused. “Wh— Why? He's not in trouble, is he?”

“No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all.” Dean flashed a winning smile.

“When's he due back from his trip?” questioned Sam.

“I'm not sure.”

“Well, maybe your wife knows.”

The man’s eerie smile was far too cheerful for the current conversation. “No, I don't know, she's not here right now.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Your son said she was.”

Jake seemed caught. “Did I?”

This whole thing was weirding you the hell out.

“She's getting groceries,” Mr. Tanner smiled. “So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?”

“Oh, no,” Dean said. “We'll just check in with you later.”

The three of you turned back down the steps, and you waited to talk until you heard the door close. “That was kind of creepy, right? Little too… Stepford?”

“Big time,” Dean replied.

You headed around the back of the house, ducking down to avoid being seen by the Tanners. You caught sight of a poor woman with mussed up blonde hair tied to a chair sweating and crying. You cocked your gun as Dean kicked in the door, and you quickly shot Mr. Tanner in the chest when he tried to charge you with a knife. You turned to Sam and Dean who were over by the window.

“He got away,” Dean grunted, referencing Jake who had leapt out of the window.

“Great,” you sighed. You turned your attention back to the woman in the chair and noticed a profusely bleeding wound. “Dean, start the car. Sam, get her to the backseat. I’m gonna patch her up as best I can til we can get to a doctor.”

The boys nodded and rushed to do your bidding. You rushed to the trunk of the Impala and pulled out your makeshift first aid kit— a collection of wraps, bandages, antiseptics, antibiotics, sutures, sewing needles, thread, and painkillers you gathered from random pharmacies and kept in a small, vintage tin box with roses etched into the lid and occasionally refilled. You hurriedly got in the backseat with the woman, and you kept her conscious by asking her questions about herself. You learned her name was Beverly, and that her two sons, Duane and Jake, went fishing and hunting together all the time. Her first sign that something was wrong was that Jake didn’t go with his brother on the trip. After her hiccups mourning the death of her husband— for which you profusely apologized to her— and hissing in pain as you kept pressure on her wound, you finally arrived at a small clinic on the main stretch of road. 

You held the pressure on her shoulder as you led her into the clinic, yelling, “Doctor! We need a doctor!”

A young woman in a pleasant floral jacket and cute pink headband came rushing out, concerned. “Mrs. Tanner, what happened?” she asked the woman on your shoulder.

“She’s been attacked,” you explained, hurrying past her.

“Dr. Lee!” the young woman called.

The doctor instructed you to head down the hallway into an examination room. You gently placed her down on the bed, and Beverly moaned as you shifted position around her to continue holding her shoulder. The doctor came into the room moments later followed by Sam and Dean, who stood at the doorway. You filled the doctor in on the medical history you’d gathered from Mrs. Tanner on the way to the clinic, and the doctor immediately set to work stitching the wound. You tossed the tattered and bloodstained jacket Mrs. Tanner had been wearing into the garbage and washed your hands up to your elbows. 

Beverly began to explain what happened to the doctor, who seemed shocked. “Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?” the doctor asked.

Beverly nodded. “They beat me. Tied me up.”

“I don't believe it,” the young nurse breathed out. 

“Beverly… do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?” Dr. Lee questioned.

“No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them.” Beverly shook as she spoke.

You walked out into the hallway with Sam and Dean.

“Those guys were whacked out of their gourds,” Dean commented.

“Ya think?” you snorted. “And what I don’t understand is, if they already beat and subdued her, why put that giant gash on her shoulder? That wound was fresh; like it happened this morning. Everything else seemed a few days old, at least.”

“Yeah, this whole thing is weird, man,” Sam added. “What do you guys think? Multiple demons, mass possession?”

“If it is a possession there could be more. I mean, God knows how many, it could be like a friggin' Shriner convention,” Dean grumbled. “Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside.”

“I don't know, man. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs,” Sam reminded his brother.

“Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if you woulda taken out the other one, there'd be one less to worry about,” the older brother chided.

Sam huffed, “I'm sorry, alright? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!”

“Boys, relax!” you scolded, standing between them.

Dean looked over your head at Sam. “No, it was an ‘it’. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam.”

“Dean,” you murmured harshly. 

Dr. Lee stalked out of the lab, heels clicking loudly on the floor to let the brothers know it was time to stop arguing. 

“How is she?” you asked her.

“Terrible! What the hell happened out there?” she questioned.

“We don't know,” Dean shook his head.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor.” Dr. Lee crossed her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you told her. “All of us would’ve been dead if I hadn’t.”

“Maybe so, but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner —”

Sam cut her off. “Phones are down.”

“I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?” Dr. Lee pleaded.

“Yeah, we do. But it crapped out just like everything else,” Sam said.

The blonde ran a hand through her hair and began to pace. “I don't understand what is happening.”

“How far is it to the next town?” you asked her.

“It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

“Alright, I'm gonna go down there, see if I can find some help. You’re coming with me.” He looked down at you before clapping Sam on the shoulder. “My partner 'll stick around, keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?” Dr. Lee questioned pointedly.

“We'll get back to you on that,” Dean responded. He then led you away from Sam and Dr. Lee and out to the Impala.

“What’d you do with Mr. Tanner?” you asked him.

“He’s in the lab somewhere. Man’s heavier than he looks,” he joked as he began to drive off.

“Dean, I killed him,” you mourned. “He was just a guy. Now, his two sons don’t have a father. He was a person.”

“(Y/N), since when are you all morally gray?” Dean questioned gently. His usual bite behind his sarcasm was missing. “I get it, but he wasn’t ‘just a guy’ anymore.”

“I know that,” you said. “That’s what I’m starting to get worried about. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice. Vamps used to be people. Hell, one of my first vamp kills was my parents. I don’t know what’s happening to me, man. I don’t hesitate— hell no— but… I don’t know.”

“Hey, I get it.” He reached across the seat and grabbed your hand. “I’m a straight shooter, too. I’m in the same place you are.”

You scooched across the bench seat and kept your hand entwined with Deans, playing with his fingers. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed it, eyes never leaving the road. 

“Things keep getting weirder, dude. Since when do we second-guess?” You tried to muster a laugh, but your heart wasn’t in it.

“I know. This whole thing is spinnin’ out of our control. I hate it,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, me, too,” you murmured. “I wish we could’ve met under normal circumstances.”

He chuckled. “Hm. Me, too.”

The rest of the drive was spent hand in hand and silent. You continued to play with Dean’s fingers and kept your head on his shoulder. Only when you saw two cars blocking the road and men standing with their large guns drawn did you pull your head up. Dean’s grip on your hand tightened— whether to reassure you or himself, you weren’t sure— as he rolled to a stop. You noticed one of the men in front of you was the teenager from the Tanner house, Jake. He stopped the car, frowning. Something banged on the roof of the car, making both you and Dean jump. His hand never left yours, and he shifted his body toward the man leaning down into the window almost protectively in front of you. “Oh-ho-ho. Hey,” Dean awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry. Road's closed,” the man at the driver’s side window grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that. What's up?” Dean questioned.

“Quarantine,” was his simple reply.

“Quarantine? Why?” you asked. Dean stiffened and tried to hide you more with his body when you spoke.

“Don't know,” the man tsked. “Something going around out there.”

“Uh-huh. Who told you that?” Dean asked, sass lying just below the surface of his tone.

The man’s face was blank when he responded. “County Sheriff.”

“Is he here?”

“No. He called. Say, why don't you get out of the car and we'll talk a little?”

Dean laughed nervously. “Well, you are a handsome devil, but I don't swing that way, sorry.”

“I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute.” The man’s stoicism was beginning to drop, and the anger bubbling just below the surface was becoming visible.

“Yeah, I'll bet you would.” Dean released your hand to quickly throw the car in reverse. The man grabbed his collar and held on for dear life as you tried your best to pry his fingers off. Thankfully, Dean swung the car around, finally cutting the man loose, and sped away. The sound of guns firing at the car filled your ears, but none of the bullets seemed to be hitting their desired target.

“You okay?” Dean asked you, throwing you a worried look.

“Yeah,” you heaved. “You?”

“Peachy,” he grunted.

Suddenly, the ex-military man you first met in town stepped in the path of the Impala, brandishing a rifle.

Dean slammed on his brakes, and you put your hands on the dashboard to steady yourself.

“Hands where I can see 'em!” the man yelled.

“Son of a—” Dean grumbled, holding his hands up. You did the same.

“Get out of the car! Out of the car!” he commanded.

You slowly slid across the seat to the passenger’s side door as Dean started climbing out. You took the opportunity of your hands being hidden behind the door to quickly whip out your handgun.

“Drop the gun!” you ordered.

“Put it down, now!” the man yelled back at you. “Are y’all part of 'em?!” 

“No!” Dean answered. “Are you?”

“No!”

“You could be lying!” Dean protested.

“So could you!”

“Alright! Alright,” you broke in. “We could do this all day, alright? Let's just, uh, let's take it easy before we kill each other.”

The sergeant relaxed slightly. “What's going on with everybody?”

“I don't know,” you admitted.

“My neighbor— Mr. Rogers, he—”

Dean interrupted the man. “You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?”

“Not anymore,” the man responded gruffly. “He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one, I mean, it's happening to everyone.”

“We’re heading over to the Doc's place, there's still some people left,” Dean explained.

“No, no way. I'm getting the hell out,” the older man stated.

“There's no way out, they got the bridge covered, now come on,” the older Winchester said.

“I don't believe you,” the man replied.

“Fine, stay here, be my guest.” It was then you noticed Dean was pointing a handgun at the man, too, who hesitated before walking over to the backseat of the Impala. He swapped his rifle for a handgun as he stooped down into the backseat, and you kept your gun trained on him over the back of your seat. The older man kept his gun aimed at you, but his eyes would frantically flick to Dean every now and again.

Dean looked between you and the man and put his gun away to be able to drive back to the clinic. “Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive.”

You pinned the sergeant to his spot in the backseat with a hard glare and your gun on him. He returned your glare and pointed gun the whole way to the clinic. Despite your aching arms, you refused to falter. “What’s your name?” you asked him, still on your guard.

“Mark.”

“Mark. Nice to meet you, Mark,” you smiled despite your situation.

Dean slowed to a stop in front of the clinic, and you and Mark mutually agreed to relax your guns. 

“Sammy? Open up!” Dean banged on the door to the clinic. 

Sam appeared at the glass a few moments later and allowed you inside. You kept your gun cocked and in your hand but pointed at the floor. 

“Did you guys, uh, get to a phone?” Sam questioned, looking between the three guns you were all brandishing.

“Road block.” Dean turned to Mark. “I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside.”

Mark looked between the three of you, hesitating, before heading inside.

“What's going on out there, guys?” Sam asked.

“Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. I mean, Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Doc thinks it's a virus.”

Dean snorted. “Okay, great. What do you think?”

“I think she's right.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Really,” Sam answered. “And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The, uh, the virus? Leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“Cool. Demonic virus,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare,” Sam added.  “At least it explains why I've been having visions.”

“It's like a Biblical plague,” noted Dean.

“Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean. I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony,” Sam began. “Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “Well, that— that's terrific. Why here, why now?”

“I have no idea. But Dean, who knows how far this thing can spread? We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people—”

Before any of you could speak, Mark called from the back of the clinic, “They've got one! In here!”

Dean entered the room behind Sam. “What do you mean?” he asked Mark.

“The wife. She's infected,” Sam explained.

“We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get,” Mark urged.

You hesitated, but only for a moment, before brushing past Sam and Dean into the lab with your gun drawn. 

“Whoa!” the sweet nurse from earlier exclaimed. “You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?”

“Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?” Sam pleaded.

“Can you cure it?” You turned toward Dr. Lee.

“For God's sake, I don't even know what ‘it’ is!” she cried.

“I told you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through,” Mark told you.

“Just leave her in there, you can't shoot her like an animal!” the young nurse said.

You slowly walked over to the door of the utility room Beverly was being held in. You, Dean, and Mark held your guns steady on the door. Sam carefully opened it to reveal Beverly huddled on the floor in a corner, crying into her knees. She jumped as you approached. “Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's, it's them!” She pointed at you, Dean, and Sam, who stood over your shoulder. “They locked me in here, they— they tried to kill me! They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!”

“You sure she's one of 'em?” Dean asked, looking at his brother. 

Sam nodded. Mark pulled back, looking distraught, and you took the opportunity to step forward. 

In an attempt to hear as few of her cries for mercy as possible, you quickly fired one shot square between her eyes. Guilt immediately clawed at your throat, and you thought you could throw up. You stowed your gun and crouched beside her crumpled form. You moved her into a less disturbing configuration, laying her on her back with her arms crossed over her chest. You closed her paralyzed, open eyes and brushed through her hair with your fingers. With the back of your hand, you wiped your own eyes and stood, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you. 

Choked up, you pushed past a concerned Sam and Dean and headed out to the car. You grabbed your duffel bag to have some reason for going outside from the trunk when you heard a sound from down the street: a car approaching. Your breath caught, and you ducked behind the wall of the clinic’s entrance; back pressed to it. You peeked out briefly to see Jake was the one driving the car with the man who had tried to kill you and Dean earlier. Soundlessly, you slipped back inside the building and turned the lights at the entrance off. 

You locked both the door to the entrance and the door to the waiting room behind you, hurriedly pulling down the shades and turning off as many unnecessary lights as possible. You turned the light off in the waiting room and stormed into the lab where everyone was huddled together. You pulled down the shades behind Dr. Lee wordlessly.

“(Y/N/N)?” Sam asked gently. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re here. Everybody, get yourself a weapon from my bag if you know how to use one. Don’t grab one, get injured, and then get infected, got it?” you ordered.

Sam nodded and grabbed your bag from you. He threw you your bowie knife and pulled a hunting knife from the duffel for himself. 

The young nurse, who you learned was named Pam, dropped a vial of blood, and she screamed. “Oh god! Is there any on me? Am I okay?”

Dr. Lee tried to calm her down. “You're clean, you're okay.”

“Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go!” Pam cried.

“No, we can't because those things are everywhere,” Dean stated firmly.

Pam began to sink to the floor. “Oh god!—”

“Hey, shh, shh,” Dr. Lee told her.

Sam turned to you and Dean who stood together by the lab’s entrance. “She's right about one thing,” he said just loud enough for the two of you to hear. “We can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here, get to the Roadhouse? Somewhere. Let people know what's coming.”

“Yeah, good point,” Dean nodded. “Night of the Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty.”

“Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice,” Mark cut in. “Lots of folks up here are good with rifles— even with all your hardware we're- we're easy targets. So unless you've got some explosives…” he trailed off.

You looked up at the shelf of medical supplies and turned to Sam. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Yeah, actually.” He grabbed a bottle of potassium chloride and waved it at you.

“I’m lost, what’s happening here?” Dean questioned. “Speak, nerds.”

You deadpanned at him. “Potassium chlorate bombs. I’ve gotta figure out a way to ionize the chloride and get some oxygen in it; otherwise, this’ll never—”

Your explanation was cut off by a loud banging on the door.

“Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!” the voice called as you approached the door.

“It's Duane Tanner!” Mark announced. He opened the door to let him in, and you grabbed your gun in your jacket immediately.

“Thank god,” Duane breathed out, walking into the clinic. 

Mark locked the door behind him. “Duane, you okay?”

Dean quietly asked Sam, “That's the guy that I, uh—” he clicked his tongue.

Sam nodded, seeming shaken.

“Who else is in here?” Duane went to step into the lab, but Dean grabbed his arm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief,” he said. “Hey Doc! Give Duane a good once-over, would you?”

Dr. Lee led your group into the lab. “Pam?”

Pam seemed to understand what that meant and moved to gather medical supplies.

“Who are you?” Duane asked Dean.

“Never mind who I am. Doc.”

Dr. Lee nodded nervously. “Yeah, okay.”

“Duane. Where you been?” Mark asked softly.

“On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I— I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?”

Your heart squeezed in your chest and bile rose in your throat.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Dean whispered to you. 

You could barely hear him over your heart pounding against your ribcage. You then noticed a deep gash in Duane’s left leg. “He’s bleeding.”

“Where'd you get that?” Dean interrogated.

“I was running, I must have tripped.” Duane’s cool tone was making it difficult to read whether he was infected or genuinely had no idea what was going on.

“Tie him up, there's rope in there,” the older brother ordered. You complied and dug the rope out of the supply closet.

“Wait—” Duane said, attempting to stand.

“Sit down!” Dean commanded, pointing his gun at Duane.

“I'm sorry, Duane, he's right,” Mark agreed. “We've gotta be careful.”

“Careful? About what?”

“Did they bleed on you?” Dean questioned, not answering the young man’s question.

“No, what the hell? No!” Duane frantically answered.

“Doc? Any way to know for sure, any test?” Sam questioned. You could tell he was trying to deescalate the situation before his vision came true. 

Dr. Lee sighed. “I've studied Beverly's bloodwork backwards and forwards.”

“My mom!” Duane cried.

Dr. Lee continued. “It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so… no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns.”

Sam looked over to his brother. “Dean, I gotta talk to you. Now.”

Dean looked over to you, and you nodded, standing up from where you’d tied Duane to the chair he was sitting in. You drew your gun and trained it on him while the brothers stepped out into the hall.

Dean reappeared a minute or so later.

“Where’s Sam?” you asked him.

He didn’t answer you. He simply cocked his gun and looked past you at Duane. Pam and Dr. Lee startled to their feet, chests heaving as they looked between Dean and Duane.

“No, you're not gonna—” Duane heaved. “No, no, I swear it's not in me!”

“Oh God. We're all gonna die,” Pam cried.

“Maybe he's telling the truth,” Mark tried.

“No, he's not him, not anymore.”

“Stop it! Ask her, ask the doctor! It's not in me!” Duane pleaded.

Dr. Lee shook her head and hesitantly looked at Dean. “I… I can’t tell.”

Duane began to sob. “Please, don't. Don't, please. I swear, it's not in me, it's not in me, I swear, I— I swear it's not in me. No, don't.”

Dean seemed to get choked up, too. “I got no choice.” 

You stared at him, eyes almost pleading him not to pull the trigger. However, you would also respect his choice if he did; you knew the risks. Dean trembled, hesitating, and finally lowered the gun. “Dammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

He left the room, and you followed. Dean let Sam out of the room he’d apparently locked his younger brother in wordlessly and kept stalking down the hall. Sam simply looked after him for a moment before turning back to the lab, but you followed Dean further.

He turned into a dark exam room at the end of the hall. You did so as well, making sure the curtains were drawn as tightly as possible before you flicked on the desk lamp. Dean sat in a chair while you sat in another, facing him. Neither of you said a word for a moment. 

“What made you stop?” you asked him.

He hesitated before answering. “Sam,” he replied simply. “And you.”

Your breath caught at his admission. “Me?” you asked, just loud enough for him to hear. 

He nodded, unable to meet your gaze. 

“Why?” you asked softly.

“Couldn’t let you watch me do that,” he muttered. “And… I want you to see me how I see you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean— You just— You remind me that there’s good out there. In all this crap. You make me wanna be better,” he admitted, gaze still pointed to the floor. 

You reached over and tilted his chin to face you with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. “Dean—”

He cut you off by surging forward to crush his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, winding your hands around his neck and threading your fingers through his hair. He cupped your chin with one hand and grabbed your waist with the other. You kissed once, then again, then one final time before simply resting your foreheads against each other’s. You nudged his nose with yours, eyes still closed, and he stroked circles on your hip with his thumb. 

The two of you were broken apart by the sound of a scream and two shots being fired off. You barely shared a look before sprinting toward the sound with your guns drawn.

“It’s Sam,” Mark told you. “He’s infected.”

Your jaw went slack at the sight of Sam on the floor with an open wound on his chest and Pam lying dead on the floor beside him.

“Oh, god,” you breathed out, turning to see Dean completely shocked and terrified.

*** Your group had Sam tied to a chair with a bandage over his wound. Dean was angry, and Sam seemed defeated. Your heart broke for both brothers and for the fact that you were gonna lose an amazing friend soon. 

“Nobody is shooting my brother,” Dean stated firmly.

Duane argued, “He isn't gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.”

“Nobody is shooting anyone!” you shouted. 

“He was gonna shoot me!” Duane gestured toward Dean.

“You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!” Dean grunted.

Sam’s sad voice caught everyone’s attention. “Dean, they're right. I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself.”

“Fuck that,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things,” Sam pleaded.

“Sam, we've still got some time—”

Mark cut Dean off. “Time for what? Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this.” He pulled out his gun.

“I'm gonna say this one time— you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? Do I make myself clear?!” Dean growled.

Mark’s face was set in hard lines. “Then what are we supposed to do?!”

Dean tossed Mark his kets. “Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now. (Y/N), you go with them.”

“Dean, no!” you said. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Sweetheart, you have to—”

“No!”

“Guys, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance!” Sam cried.

Dean turned to his younger brother. “You're not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

Mark chimed back in. “No, he's right. Come with us.”

Dean just stared at him.

“Okay, it's your funeral.” He led Duane and Dr. Lee out the door.

“Thank you, for everything,” Dr. Lee told you as she left.

“Don’t mention it,” you said halfheartedly.

She shut the door behind you, and Sam began to cry.

You were repeatedly surprised by Dean’s sense of play and slight immaturity at the grimmest of moments. “Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something.”

“Don’t do this,” Sam pleaded. “Just get the hell out of here.”

“He’s right, (Y/N), you should leave,” Dean tired.

You crossed your arms and spoke with authority despite your soft tone. “Dean, we’ve discussed this already. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Give me my gun and leave,” Sam begged.

“For the last time, Sam. No,” Dean stated.

Sam slammed his fists against his chair. “This is the dumbest thing you've ever done.”

“Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?” Dean shuddered.

“Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you two,” Sam sobbed. “You can keep going.”

“Who says I want to?” Dean admitted.

“What?” you and Sam breathed out.

Dean pulled his handgun out of his waistband and put it on the file cabinet behind him. “I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life… this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it.”

Sam scoffed. “So, what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has—” 

“You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but…” he trailed off.

“What is it about?” Sam questioned.

A knock at the door broke the tense silence settled over the room. “You'd better come see this,” Dr. Lee called through the door.

You quickly untied Sam and brought him out to where Dr. Lee, Dean, Mark, and Duane were already gathered. 

“There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just… vanished,” Dr. Lee explained.

“Croatoan,” you realized, looking over at the telephone pole opposite you.

***

Miraculously, the virus didn’t incubate in Sam’s blood. Strangely, when Dr. Lee looked back at the Tanner samples, the sulfur was gone, too. Confused and slightly uneasy, you and the brothers packed up the Impala. 

“Hey, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come,” Duane suggested to Dr. Lee.

“I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here. If they'll believe me. Take care,” she told them.

Mark waved to the three of you as well as Dr. Lee. 

“What about him?” Dean pointed to his brother.

“He's going to be fine. No signs of infection,” she grinned.

You turned to Sam.

“Hey, don't look at me. I got no clue,” he said.

“I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go? It's like they just fuckin’ melted,” Dean griped.

“Why was I immune?” Sam wondered aloud.

“Yeah. You know what? That's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away.” Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car and pulled away from the town. His words hung ominously over the car for the remainder of your drive.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[callsign-hummingbird]

I’m not Your Indian Princess

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Native American Reader, Sam x Fem!Native American Reader(platonic)

WHAT DID I JUST WRITE???

Warnings: Triggers of racism, Strong Political Themes(most of you Natives will understand what I’m talking about), A bit of sexism, crack story..., Cas is not in this one. Sorry!

WARNING! IF YOU STRONGLY DISLIKE NATIVE AMERICAN PEOPLE, PLEASE LEAVE AND DON’T LEAVE ANY MEAN COMMENTS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! IF i DO FIND ANY OFFENSIVE COMMENTS, I WILL BLOCK YOU AND DELETE YOUR COMMENT(OR FIND A WAY). ALSO YOU MIGHT HAVE JUST GOT A WHOLE TRIBE OR FEW AFTER YOU. YOU WERE WARNED!!!!!!!

A/N: This one is for @tinymoony​!  hope you like! It’s sort of weird, so please forgive me.

 The night was dark and the moon was out. It was almost a full moon, which meant that werewolves could be out right now, well metaphorically speaking. Tonight, there would be no werewolves and there most certainly would not be any werewolf hunting either. Tonight was Halloween and we would get a break from the storm that we called our life. Tonight we would rest and then start again tomorrow because tomorrow is when all the real monsters came out to play.

I scanned the page that was pulled up on my computer. Not a hunt in sight so far. I just finished my last hunt with a Wendigo and now I needed to find another one. It’s not that that I wanted to, but I needed to. I needed to keep my brain occupied or else it would drift back to that dark memory of the night I lost my cousin. Dark memories of that night flashed through my mind. I did not want to talk about it, nor did I want to speak about it. All I wanted to remember was that it happened that night and I needed to find the monster that killed my cousin. Along the way, I found a few more things to hunt and learned a few new things. I also found two tremendously good hunters as well. Their names were Sam and Dean Winchester and they wanted to hunt with me. Something about me being Native and helping them with the cultures and lores. I told them that I was only one tribe though and that there were many tribes that represented themselves as Native American or a better term would be Indigenous. They didn’t mind anyways and said that I could help with getting in with the tribes anyways. Apparently from what Sam has told me, it has been hard for them to even get some of the Indigenous people to help them. I told them that it was probably because of what happened back when America was being colonized and not to be offended by it- just learn and move forward. Ever since I joined them though, more Indigenous people have been more open to telling us things and opening up a little more. 

“Hey (Y/N).” I looked up at the person calling my name, meeting beautiful, forest green eyes. The man with the beautiful, forest green eyes was named Sam Winchester. He had beautiful short brown hair that he spent hours on and a tall, towering frame that  made him bigger than most. Even though he was tall, he still had the personality of a playful puppy. I smiled at him. “Yeah Sam?” I asked, looking back at my computer. “All you do is work, you need to just relax tonight.” I sighed and ran my hands over my face. He was right after all. I had to get away from the computer and start having a little more fun. If not for Sam, then for Dean. Dean... Dean Winchester was the  oldest out of the two and he had me whipped. I loved how his eyes sparkled in the sun and how they complimented his face shape. I also loved how he styled his hair and how he looked so put together with the various hairstyles that he did. Oh and his voice. It was like warm, dark chocolate melting in  my mouth. He did things to me, but it was not not just the physical things, it was also the things unseen as well. His personality was was a mix between a cute, little, feisty kitten and a ferocious tiger. Some of the girls that I have talked to have even compared him to a sex god. I wouldn’t go that far to describe him though, even he might and probably was good in bed. 

I sighed and turned my head just in time to see him sitting at the bar, talking to a girl dressed in an offensive Native American Costume. The costume consisted of cheap brown fabric that tried imitating buckskin, but failed miserably. the skirt came up above her knees, showing all of her leg area. Her feet was cladded with brown boots that failed to be moccasins, while her chest area was on display as she leaned over and talked to Dean. She also had her blonde hair in two loose braids, while she had a beaded head band on and fake colored feathers in the back. With a revealing outfit like hers, there was literally nothing to the imagination. To make it worse, almost all the guys in the bar were gawking at her. 

I shook  my head and turned back to where Sam was sitting. Sam looked at me and then where I was looking a few minute ago. He just smiled at me knowingly. “(Y/N), that girl will never be as beautiful as you in such clothing.” I sighed and looked at him. “I don’t care if the girl holds a candle to me in that clothing, Sam. It’s outright disrespectful that she would even wear such a costume.” I said concernedly. The smile that he had on before was quickly replaced with a smile. “what do you mean?” he asked. This answer alone just made me frustrated. I sighed and got up. “You know what? Watch and learn.” I said and made my way out the barn. I would show him. 

A few minutes after I left, I heard a voice calling out to me. It was Sam again. “(Y/N)! Wait up! Where are you going?” I huffed a little, turned around and looked back at him. “Do you want to know what a real Native American looks like? Because that is sure as heck isn’t it!” I started yelling. He looked down at the ground. “I’m sorry if I offended you.” I looked around and took a deep breath. “It’s not your fault Sam. It’s just...” “Just what?” He asked, trying to look for some explanation from me. I sighed again. I’ve noticed I have been doing that a bunch lately. I looked at him again. “ It’s just that I can’t believe after all that I have taught Dean about Native American culture, he still has the mordacity to look at that girl who doesn’t even know what any of that stuff that she’s wearing even means. It’s literally a slap in my face and a joke to all Indigenous women out there.” I said, in a frustrated tone. 

Before I even knew what was happening, I felt big arms make their way around my body, engulfing me in a hug. “I am so sorry.” he said. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back. “It’s ok.” I said in a whisper. He pulled away immediately and looked at me. “No it’s not! You’re right! With all that has happened with the Native American nation, Dean and I should be more respectful!” He pulled my hand and started pulling me back into the bar. This gesture made me confused. “Wait Sam, what are we doing.” I asked. He looked back at me and smiled. “I have an idea.” He said, mischievously.

After that, we went back in and got Dean. Dean was really disappointed, but Sam said that it was very important. The girl, who was with him looked very upset and gave me a mean look. Then she walked off and started talking to some other guy. Afterwards, Sam pulled us both back to Baby and we were off. 

In what seemed like thirty minutes, we were back at the Bunker. Sam got out of his seat and with in minutes was opening my door. I was so very confused, but did not question that big genius in front of me. If he had a plan, he had a plan and I trusted that he had a plan. 

As soon as we got into the bunker, he told me to get my stuff that I usually used for pow wows(for the sake of this fanfic, reader is a pow wow dancer. If you don’t know what that is, look it up. There’s too much to explain.). I stopped cold in my tracks. “Why?” I asked, looking at him. “Remember how you said that there was a cultural dance or pow wow near us that was happening to celebrate Halloween?” I just nodded. “But then I said that it was ok if we didn’t go because Dean wanted to do other things anyways?” I added in a question. Sam nodded and smiled. “Well, I was thinking that we could go to it and we would learn what real beauty an actual Native American girl has, instead of the crazy getups that those girls that Dean hangs out with wears. “ This answer made my lips form an O shape, while nodding. I just smiled and started to my room to get my stuff again. 

 As soon as I got into my room, I started packing my stuff. Dean, nor Sam have ever seen me in my regalia. I only just told them about this hobby of mine and how much it meant to me, but to see me in action? This would be weird and crazy, but I was going to trust Sam on this. 

I continued to pack my stuff and then got my makeup that I usually wore for pow wows. Did I mention that Sam and Dean have not really seen me in a face full of make-up either? I mean, I touch up my brows a bit, wear a few swipes of mascara, and occasionally, maybe a neutral lip color, but that’s about it. I zipped up my suitcase and started for the front door of the bunker, while meeting Sam on the way. “Ready to show Dean what a real Native American looks like?” He asked. I nervously smiled and nodded. Let’s do this. 

----------------------------------------------------------

It was a long drive to the gym where the pow wow was being held. Occasionally Dean would ask where we were going and Sam would just respond with a “You’ll See”. As soon as we came into the parking lot of the gym area, Sam stopped at the front and dropped me off. “Good Luck (Y/N).” He said, and then they were off, with Dean in question. I waved and then I started for the door. When I opened the door, the pow wow music filled my ears, making me want to cry. It had been a while since I have been to one, nevertheless competed in one. This would be my first time in a while, since dancing in a pow wow again. 

I started towards the bathroom, where al the girls were going to get dressed. Flashbacks and memories of my family filled my mind. During another time, I would go with them to these things and dance with my siblings. We went to as many as we could when I was a child. Though, when my cousin got killed, I stopped going to them and started hunting, leaving my family behind. They thought that I was going to college, but I wasn’t and only I knew that. I couldn’t tell them because if I did, I risked getting them hurt or even killed, like my cousin. 

As soon as I reached the bathroom, I went into the first stall that was occupied and started getting dressed. I put on my dress, belt, leggings, and moccasins and then started braiding my hair. The thought of Dean came into my mind. I didn’t know what his reaction would be, but let’s hope good? A part of myself told myself to stop thinking about him and to think about the things that I should be thinking about which were good things for myself and my family. 

In no time, I was dressed and out of the stall, now focusing my head accessories, which included my head band, hair wraps, and a feather. Not the fake one, like the girl at the bar had, but a real one. Then I started on my makeup, fixing it to perfection. 

The outfit and hair.

The full makeup look, besides the lips.

The lips.

As soon as I was done with everything, I took one last look in the mirror. Everything looked as good as I could get it, so I made my way out of the bathroom and to the gym area, where the music could be heard. Time to make a statement. 

When I walked into the gym, all I could spot were native people just like me and the occasional Caucasian going few that wanted to immerse themselves in the culture. My eyes roamed every area of the gym, until they landed on a guy with naturally, short, wind blown hair shaped to the said and another guy with long hair, tucked behind his ears. They were looking at what was happening at the dance floor. I started walking over to them, when all of a sudden my category was called, which was women fancy shawl. I turned around and started  making my way to the dance floor. As soon as I stepped into the floor, I made myself comfortable with all the other girls in my category. The thought of Dean and Sam and what Dean would think pushed all the way back into my mind. It was time to get in the zone. 

I held my shawl close to my body, as the Mc started talking. He was just giving updates for a little while and he asked one of the drum groups to take it away. The music started and I closed my eyes. The beat filling my ears as I started dancing. Everything being pulled away from me as a I had the time of my life. 

-----------------------------------------

Dean’s P.O.V

 I watched as (Y/N) started dancing. Wow, I did not know that she could move like that. She looked so graceful and just breath taking. Everything about her was breath taking. She looked so much better than the girl in the bar. If I could compare her and the girl, that girl does not stand a chance against her. She was like what you saw in the picture when you ordered from Amazon and the girl was like what you get instead. (Y/N) was authentic and beautiful every way, in her culture or not. I turned to Sam, my jaw dropped. “She looks awesome.” was all I could manage Sam just smiled and nodded. “She’s beautiful.” He stated.

-------------------------------------

The music ended and made my final pose. I took a few deep breaths to catch my breath and then I stood straighter and started walking to the entrance of the dance floor, while the other girls stood in line to be judged.

As I made my way outside of the of the dance floor, I immediately spotted Sam and Dean standing by the bleachers. At first, I was surprised that they even came in, but then I remembered why they were here. immediately, I turned around and started walking the other way. Thoughts of Dean not wanting to be here in the first place and him probably getting frustrated with me came into my mind. He probably was dragged in here by Sam. What would  he think of me? He probably was going to think that I was just trying to impress him and that I like him because of it. That was not it at all though! I just wanted to make a point that, that girl in the bar was just a “clown” as everyone would say today and that Indigenous Women were more than what she was portraying. 

 As I was walking away, I heard my name being called through the loud music. I started walking faster, until I was almost running now. I pushed through a crowd of people lined up to get food and quickly said sorry. Then I was running again. The person kept calling my name and now that we were away from the loud music, I knew who it was. 

Dean Winchester was calling my name, while I ran away from him. He was running after me trying to catch up to me. In any other setting this would be a dream come true, but this was just not the setting. I wanted him to effortlessly fall for me. I didn’t want to force him, just because I showed him a part of me that was different. A part that he didn’t get to see every day and that showed a part of my inner beauty(Sam’s words, not mine). 

I finally made my way, running outside and stopped until I was at the end of the parking lot and stopped. I bent over, while my hands went to my knees. My breaths came out in deep spurts every now and then. Dancing and running afterwards was not a good combination. I put my hands behind my head and tried to control my breathing. 

As I turned around to start walking back, I stopped in my tracks. There in my peripheral vison stood the very man that I didn’t want to see right now. He was looking me up and down with a look of awe. “Hi.” he finally said, after a little bit of silence. I looked down at the floor and didn’t say anything. “(Y/N).” he said again. I signed and looked back him, meeting his beautiful, green eyes. “What?” I said a little harshly. This shocked him and made him step back a little. “You want me now, after you just saw me? You didn’t want me back at the bar, while you were hanging with that skimpy girl, who was making a fool out of herself, while she was trying to imitate me!” I yelled. I wasn’t even trying to hold it in anymore. It was too much and I needed to let it out. “(Y/N), I-” I cut him off. “No, you listen Dean Freaking Winchester! You are a disrespectful jerk.! You know that!” His eyebrows were scrunched, while a look of confusion washed over his face. “Why am I a jerk?” he asked. I sighed, trying not to lose my composer. “You don’t have any respect for my culture at all!” “Why do you say that? I have the utmost respect for your culture! I just stood in there and watched you dance! I was entranced by you! Why would you say that?” He was now yelling and pointing at the door to the gym. 

Tears started making their way down my face, probably ruining my makeup. “BECAUSE!” I screamed. This made him shut up and look at me. There was a moment of silence between us. He looked shocked and I am pretty sure that I looked terrified. “Because.” I said, more softly. “You were staring at her in that stupid outfit and that outfit shows so much disrespect to me and the people that I represented tonight. I expected more from you Dean.” My head turned away, while I closed my eyes. Tears kept coming out, probably washing all my blush, concealer, and foundation off. “(Y/N), I would never-” I cut him off again. “Save it.” I said, making my way past him and back into the gym. 

From what I could remember, he didn’t even call my name after that. He didn’t even run after me. Part of me wanted him to, but the other half was just frustrated and heartbroken with him that I didn’t have the motivation to care. 

I went inside and found Sam waiting for me. I think he knew what happened because his arms were in the form of wanting to give me a hug. I let him engulf me in a big bearlike hug and then I pulled away. He smiled sadly and wiped my tears away with the pad of his thumb. “You looked amazing out there tonight.”he softly spoke. I sadly smiled and pulled him in for another hug. “Thank you.” I said into his chest and then pulled away again. “Can we go now Sam?” He just nodded and let me go get changed. 

I quickly got changed and put everything back into my suitcase. I took my accessories out of my hair and slowly undid my hair, while looking at myself in the same mirror that I got ready in before this all happened. I looked at myself and smiled. “Everything is going to be ok.” I whispered to myself. 

From the corner of my eye, I saw an elderly women all girded up in buckskin walking towards me. “Shiyazhi, you are going to be okay.” she said, touching my shoulder. From the word that she used, I could tell that she was Navajo. The only reason that I knew that was because I had a friend(or if you’re Navajo, just disregard this sentence.) who was Navajo. The word meant baby or my baby- she was just trying to be nice. 

I smiled at her and then took the top of  my suitcase and made my way out. Before I went though, I turned around to her and said thank you. She smiled and nodded. 

I opened the door to the bathroom and made my way outside, seeing Sam waiting for me while watching the dancers still. I came up to him and set my suit case down. “Are you ready?” I asked, seemingly knocking him out of his thoughts. He turned away from the dance floor and nodded. Together, we walked out of the gym and started walking towards Baby. This was going to be one awkward ride. 

---------------------------------------------

As soon as we got to the bunker, I quickly got my things and made my way to my bedroom as fast as I could. As soon as I was in my bedroom, I closed my door, set my stuff down and tiredly made my way to my bed. I fell down and as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out.

---------------------------------------------(The Next Morning)

I heard someone knocking on my door, telling me to get up. Lazily, I turned the other way and pulled my blanket over my head. The knocking still continued. I groaned. “Not Now.” I grumbled, while I turned the other way and did the same thing. The knocking still continued and this time someone was yelling on the other side of the door to get me up. 

I sighed and shoved off my blanket, making my way to the door. I opened the door and came face to face with Dean. He was already dressed and cleanly shaved. “Get up Pocahontas, we’re going somewhere today and you can’t say no. Oh and by the way, could you put your hair in two braids?” he asked. This made my nose scrunch up and open my bedridden eyes at him. “What?=I said sassily. He smiled at me. “You just looked so cute last night and I have a cowboy fantasy that I want to fulfill with my Indian Princess.” I sighed and shut the door. “I’m not your Indian Princess.” I said as I made my way into the bathroom to get ready. 

I took a shower, taking my time because I didn’t want to even see Dean today. I got out and put on some underwear. After that, I pulled on a cute white shirt that read “best friends” with a cute puppy and kitty on the front, a shirt skater skirt, and white shoes to match. I wasn’t going to indulge Dean in his stupid cowboy fantasy, so I put my hair up into a loose bun, with strands hanging out from the sides. I grabbed my black, silky backpack with everything that I needed and then I went outside to meet Dean by Baby. 

He was leaning against the shimmery impala, with his  hands in his pocket. “Dean.” I called out to him. He looked up at me and smiled, showing no disappointment to my hair in a bun. He came around the passenger side, following me. Opening the door for me, but before I could get any further, he pulled me close to him. He shut the door and pressed his body closer to mine, until there was no space in-between us. His arms wrapped around my waist, locking me in. Green eyes met (e/c)(I once saw a Native with blue eyes, so you never know.) eyes. “Dean?” I questioned looking away from him and down at where his arms wrapped around my waist. “(Y/N), I wanted to say that I’m sorry for disrespecting you and your culture. I was only talking to the girl because I imagined you dressed up in her costume. To be honest, I think I have a thing for Native American girls(I feel like Dean so would!).” He said. I looked down, trying to ignore him. I really didn’t want to  hear this right  now. “I didn’t think that me staring at that girls outfit and imagining you in it would be disrespectful to you or your culture.” Tears starting coming down my face as he said this. He unwrapped his arms from my waist, and brought  his big, rough hands up to my face and started wiping my tears away with the pad of his thumb. “What’s the matter baby?” He asked. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. “You don’t get it. do you?” I said, pushing him off with as much force as I could muster. Once I finally did, I started towards the garage door that led outside. I needed to walk this off. 

I heard hard boots clonking behind me. This time, Dean caught up to me and walked in front of me to keep me from escaping. I huffed and put my hands on my chest. “Tell me! “ He practically yelled. “Teach me what I don’t understand! I’ll never know if you won’t teach me!” I laughed sarcastically in his face. “You’re one to talk!” I said. He growled and put his hands up in the air. “You are so stubborn! Just tell me! Please!” he shouted at me. I sighed, looked down at the ground and then back at him. “You want to know why it’s disrespectful to me? It’s disrespectful to me because Native girls, like me don’t ever dress like that! I each culture, we have a standard of dressing modestly and keeping ourselves well groomed! Also, not all tribes wear buckskin! Not all Native Americans are the same! We all don’t dress like that!” I shook my head at him and turned away. “I’m not a whore like the movies make us out to be. “ I said softly. “I’m a girl too. A human being just like the rest of you, with feelings. I’m not here for any mans pleasure and to be objectified.” I turned around and looked back at him. “ Native Women are held with the highest regard and respect in Indigenous culture. Not what has been shown on tv.” 

When he heard me say this, a look of guilt washed over his face. He came over to me and engulfed me in a hug. I let the tears flow as I was pulled closer into his chest. “Wow, (Y/N). I didn’t know. I’m so sorry for ever doing that. Because I didn’t mean to.” I pulled my head out of his chest and looked ot the side. “That’s why Sam decided to go to the pow wow. So that he could show that he respected me and show you that I was more than just what that outfit interpreted.” He sighed and rested his chin on the top of my head. “Well thank you because baby, you were so beautiful and showed me how beautiful Native American people are.” He pulled away and smiled at me. “I will never ever think about disrespecting you or your culture ever again because that’s part of what makes you you and since that is a part of you, it also makes you beautiful.” I smiled at him. “Thank you Deano.” He smiled at the nickname I gave him and started to lean in. 

I closed my eyes and tilted my head, allowing him access. I felt warmth bubbling in my chest and excitement go through my body. Dean Winchester was about to kiss me. 

After a moment of anticipation, I didn’t feel his lips on mine. I opened my eyes just enough to see him contemplating. “What is it?” I asked him. He laughed a little nervously and looked down, blushing a little. “Can I uh... Can I kiss you?” He asked in a shy voice. I smiled and nodded, bringing him back in for our kiss. 

-----------------------------------------------

A/N; So this didn’t really go as planned, but for my Indigenous girls, I hope you liked it! I just kind of chose a pow wow setting because pow wows are universal for all tribes, so don’t hate me. Um, if you want to request you can or you can just pass by, either or... Haters stay off my page and do  not comment if you don’t respect the Indigenous people. I don’t condone racism or any bad themes talked about in the story. We are all children of God and he loves us. Thanks for reading! 

[sofreddie]

Friday Feature: April 16, 2021

Welcome to Feature Friday, where every Friday I feature a different Fanfic Writer’s blog. This week’s Feature Blog is:

Link to Masterlist.

About the Author:

Hi all! I’m Saxxy, I’m 22, and I am a mixed, multi-tribal Indigenous gal living in Los Angeles. I’ve been writing for about 5 years, mainly for Supernatural, but last year I started writing for Marvel as well. I’m also a theatre major currently in community college.

Other info and plugs: I have hundreds of fics, NSFW drabbles, and series chapters on my Patreon. My lowest tier is just $3 a month, and you can gain access to all exclusive work on a month-to-month basis. You can follow/support my Etsy shops @scentsfromthebunker and @infinitybeads.

Saxxxy’s Fave Personal Fics:

What Goes Bump in the Night (series) - Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader (Victorian!AU)

Summary: New York City, 1888: Omegas are considered a commodity, existing only to be sold to Alphas to continue their bloodlines, danger lurks in the alleyways of New York City, and Sam, who has recently acquired an Omega, finds himself torn between his life’s work, the “Family Business,” and loving the girl he never wanted.

Why Saxxy likes this fic:

I like this story because it takes place in one of my favorite eras. I wasn’t sure it would take off or be as well liked as it is, but out of all my works posted to Tumblr, it’s the only one receiving constant attention regardless of how long it’s been since it was written.

For Everyone to See - Soulless!Sam x Reader

Summary: Sam’s bored, and you’re his only source of entertainment.

Why Saxxxy likes this fic:

This story is just straight up filth for me and it’s got a little something for everybody who likes things rough without them being dark. I also just love Soulless!Sam and I indulge in him whenever I can.

Cosmo Says... (series) - Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It all starts with a subscription to COSMO…

Why Saxxxy likes this fic:

I like this series because it was my first time openly writing a Winchester-duo relationship with the reader. I also never gave Dean much attention and it was honestly therapeutic to be able to write him the way I want to see him. This series did really well on patreon, but when I started posting it to Tumblr, reader engagement was super low, so while a few chapters are posted on Tumblr, the rest of the series is only available on Patreon.

Saxxxy’s Fic Recommendations:

Call Out My Name by @whitestarbucky - Steve Rogers x Native American!Reader

Summary: To Steve, you would always be his attractive ex-roommate that he happens to work with. The sex was just an added bonus. Until feelings started to build. His feelings. Not to be the one to push those feelings on you, he dedicated himself to burying them. Forever dwelling in this unrequited love. Unless, maybe, it wasn’t so unrequited after all?

Why Saxxxy likes this fic:

Riley is just a phenomenal writer and the fact that she wrote a Native American!Reader just made my heart explode. Indigenous fic writers are hard to find, even in a place where writers of color are boosted, so it felt really good to have a piece with one of my favorite fictional characters paired with a reader that I can identify with. Riley’s fic is also inclusive to any Indigenous background, which as a mixed, multi-tribal Native, made me really happy!

6 AM by @nacho-bucky - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky tackles some post-mission messes and chaos.

Why Saxxxy likes this fic:

I love this story because we get to see some of the craziness in Bucky’s life when he’s a father. It’s very sweet and fluffy and exactly what I’d expect if we saw this onscreen.

One More For Luck by @kittenofdoomage - Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: He knows exactly how to get you going again.

Why Saxxxy likes this fic:

I love Sam, and I love Rhi, and I love smut. Rhi writes some of the most delicious smut out there, and I’m always on her Sam Winchester fics the second I see them posted.

Thank you for checking out this week’s Friday Feature. Be sure to check out Saxxxy’s blog, follow, send asks, go crazy! Check out all the fics linked and be sure to REBLOG and COMMENT!

Authors love to know what you think about their work - not just praise, but constructive criticism as well.

Constructive criticism is a helpful way of giving feedback that provides specific, actionable suggestions. Rather than providing general advice, constructive criticism gives specific recommendations on how to make positive improvements. Constructive criticism is clear, to the point and easy to put into action.

Shout out to @talesmaniac89 for the beautiful dividers she created and offered up for us for free! Check out her other resources here.

Would you like your blog to be showcased in a Feature Friday?

Maybe you have a fic you’ve written that you’d like to be included in the weekly Fic Recommendations?

Something you’ve read and loved?

Tag me! Send an ask! Drop a DM!

And as always, Happy Fanfic-ing!

Want even MORE? Check out the Friday Feature Masterlist!

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

FRIDAY FEATURE:

@deanwanddamons

[were-all-idjits-here]

Still Alive, Part II: Purgatory A La Astra

Summary While watching the season 7 finale of Supernatural, you're zapped from your world to a world where everything that happened in the show is real. Sam's real. Dean's real. Monsters are real. And so is Purgatory--where Dean's currently trapped, unbeknownst to Sam. How convenient that you end up getting zapped into his backyard. But now for the hard part: trying to convince Sam you're telling the truth. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst, cursing

A/N: It's been awhile since I've seen this part of the show and I don't 100% know how astral projection works, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Thanks so much for reading. 

~~Read here on AO3~~

What was it with going to sleep one place and then waking up in the next? You blinked, slowly sitting up as you rubbed your eyes and took in the dreary, dark forest around you. This had to be a dream, right? You took a moment to scan your surroundings, jumping as several twigs snapped a few yards behind you. You quickly rose to a crouch, your hand closing around a large branch that had fallen from one of the trees. When there was no further sound or movement, you slowly began to get up. Right as you found your feet, a dark shape suddenly slammed into you, knocking the branch from your hand. You winced as your back hit the hard bark of a tree and were pinned in place.

“Where’s the angel?” a rough voice asked.

Your eyes flew open, coming face to face with none other than Dean Winchester. You stared for a moment, your mouth moving but no sound coming out. This had to all be some sort of acid dream…

“Answer me!” Dean pressed you further against the tree and you could feel the rough bark scraping you through your PJ shirt.

PJs—wait, you were in the PJs you had bought at the Target by the motel. The same ones you had worn to go to sleep in the motel room. You hadn’t been wearing them when you’d first made contact with Sam. So at least that part was real. But how the holy fuck did you get to Purgatory? You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall anything that might be helpful and remembered during your research at the library, you’d found out the motel had been built on top of an ancient Native American site that was supposedly used for astral projection. There were stories that some of the old magics used still lingered. Maybe something had happened while you’d been dreaming?

“I don’t, I’m—Jesus…” You didn’t know what to say. Having Sam Winchester point a gun at you in a normal backyard of a normal house was one thing. Dean Winchester holding a makeshift machete to your throat and pinning you against a tree in Purgatory where he’d been trapped with nothing but monsters for six months: completely different level of oh, fuck. “I’m not a monster, I swear—”

Dean eyed you for a moment with an expression you couldn’t identify. You hadn’t even gotten used to the fact that the Dean Winchester was standing in front of you when he reached a hand into his pocket and whipped it up to your face. You flinched, expecting a punch, but were met with water splashing over your face instead. Next, he roughly grabbed your palm and pressed a small silver ring into the middle of it. When nothing happened, he frowned, staring at you for a minute before taking several large steps back. You leaned on your knees for support as you caught your breath.

“You’re…human,” he finally said, staring at you as if you’d grown a second head.

You nodded, rubbing the sore spot on your neck where the machete had been. “I…I don’t know how I got here. Sam dropped—”

“Sam?” Dean walked closer, his eyes large and hopeful. “My brother, Sam? Sam Winchester?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he looking for me? Are you helping him?”

You nodded. “Sort of. Apparently, the motel I’m at is famous for old magic that’s still hanging around from the Native Americans that lets you astral project, so I’m not sure if that’s how I got here.”

“So where’s Sam?”

You took a moment to look Dean over while you tried to figure out what to say. He was covered in dirt and grime, the strange gray pallor that hung over Purgatory making it even worse. Dried blood coated his face, hair and clothes, which were also torn and dirty. He’d already been here six months, but still looked like he could pick you up and crush you with his bare hands.

“I…don’t have a good way to explain without telling you everything.”

Dean nodded, motioning you deeper into the woods towards a small fire burned with a bag next to it. Dean sat a few feet away, still wary of you. You launched into the same tale you told Sam, trying to keep it concise as strange sounds circled around you in the dark, unsurprised when Dean started giving the same quiz about his life that Sam had. When he was finally satisfied, he turned his attention to the fire and was quiet for several minutes, absentmindedly picking the grime out from under his fingernails with the tip of the machete.

“You don’t think I sound insane?” you finally asked.

“I don’t think anything is insane anymore,” he replied, finally returning his attention to you. “Plus you showed up in Purgatory completely clean and in…” he grimaced, “cat PJs.”

You glanced down at your shirt. “What’s wrong with cats?”

“They’re cats!”

“It’s not like I have matching bottoms!”

“Yeah, well, at least you have that going for you.”

“Hey!”

Dean shrugged, trying to appear annoyed, but it seemed like he was relieved to have contact with another human being. Albeit an astral projected (if that’s what had happened) one. “Anyway, why are you helping Sam find me? Why not just go home?”

You paused as you thought about what you wanted to say. “Just after watching so long and getting so attached to you guys, I just wanted to help where I could. Plus, Sam has no idea how to get me home anyway. And, I’ve already had this conversation with Sam and I’m not having it again: my life at home is shit and worthless and I know the hunting life fucking sucks, but at least you’re doing something. You’re helping people and saving people and I want to be a part of that.”

“You can’t seriously want to stay here—”

“I can and I’m going to.”

“This isn’t a life you want, kid.” He gestured to his surroundings. “Look where it got me. Maybe you don’t have much back at home, but at least you’re safe. There aren’t monsters.”

“There are monsters. They just look different.”

Dean stared at you as if trying to pull something from your eyes. You stared back with just as much intensity, trying to let him know without words how much you needed a purpose. You weren’t stupid, you knew the risks of this life. But your life back home was going nowhere. Despite the risks of the hunting life, at least you could do some good, leave a legacy if the worst should happen. You could save people and maybe even save yourself.

Dean shrugged. “Okay. But don’t say later that you didn’t realize what you were getting yourself into.”

“I won’t. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. There’s a way out of here. Well, for humans at least.”

“According to the show?”

“Yeah. There’s a portal. Humans aren’t supposed to be here, and the portal will help you escape. There’s a vampire named Benny that can take you to it.”

Dean thought for a moment. “I need to find Cas first. The show doesn’t say where he is, does it?”

You shook your head. “He just kind of shows up. I think you need to find Benny first, then you find Cas.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, but how do we get you back to…the motel or whatever? I’m assuming you and Sam will be waiting on the other side of wherever this portal leads?”

“Um…”

“What? Is Sam okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine, he just…sort of…”

Dean’s eyes were an intense green in the dark that seemed to yank the information out of you at will. “He what?”

“He, um, said he didn’t know if he believed me and every time I asked him how we would move forward, he just danced around the question and kept saying he would be in touch to figure out how to get me home. He put me up in a motel close to his house—well, his girlfriend’s house—and just told me to stay put.”

Dean’s face was an unreadable wall for several seconds. He finally turned away, but you could see the information had bothered him. “I’m sure he’s just trying to keep you safe while he figures something out.” He turned his eyes back to you. “You’re sure you want to become a hunter? You’re 100% positive that’s what you want, that this life is better than what you have at home or what you could possibly have in the future at home?”

“Yes, 100%.”

Dean signed. “All right, well if you’re gonna be dumb, you should at least be smart about it. If I make it out of here alive, Sammy and I will show you the ropes.”

You nod, breathing a sigh of relief.

“By the way, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

A shrill noise suddenly fills your head and you squeeze your eyes shut as your head rings. When you open them again, you recognize the motel room ceiling above you. Daylight spills in through the gap in the curtains and as you glance around the room, you realize the shrill noise is your phone ringing. You see Sam’s name on the screen and quickly sit up to answer. “Sam?”

“Hey,” you hear his voice on the other end. “How you holding up?”

“Um, I’m okay. Just woke up.”

“Sorry if I woke you.” He sighed. “So, I have this friend name Lee that I called to come help you. He’s a hunter and has dealt with some weird, interdimensional shit before and thinks he can help. He’s on his way to you now and says he should be there in about three days. You got everything you need till then?”

“I think so…You mean help me get back home?”

“Yes, and you are going.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and let your hands fall into your lap, sighing. “Sam, we’ve had this conversation—”

“Yes, we have, and you’re going back home.”

“What about Dean?”

“Y/N…Just, he’s dead, okay? There’s no way in hell he’s alive.”

“Yeah, because he’s not in hell, he’s in Purgatory, Sam. Literally every single detail of the show has been accurate so far. Why wouldn’t this be? I know I’m some stranger, but if there’s even a chance he’s alive, don’t you want to take it? He would do it for you.”

“I’ve gotta go, but Lee should be there by Friday, okay? Until then, let me know if you need anything.”

“Sam—” You resist the urge to scream as the line goes dead. You let your phone fall onto the bed before heading into the bathroom, your screaming bladder something you can no longer ignore. You do a double take as you walk by the mirror. On the back of your light gray PJ shorts, there are two dark mud stains. Your mind flashed back to the dream and how real everything had felt, the passage about this motel still having old magic floating around and your conversation with Dean. You knew he was alive and you knew how to get to him. If that wasn’t enough for Sam, then it would be enough for you. You still had three days to get out of town before Lee got here and forced you back home—forced Dean to stay trapped in Purgatory for another six months. It was time for a road trip.

***

Tag list: @totallyluciferr​ @ dr7girl @ pillowjj 

[brown-bi-beautiful]

Supernatural Series Rewrite

Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Dean Winchester x Named Reader (eventually)

Series Warning: language violence, angst, fluff, sexual content, Gore, molestation, mention of sexual harassment, usual supernatural violence. (If you’re triggered by any of these then please don’t read)

(A/n- I had to give the reader a name, there’s reason behind it but you can change it if you want. I changed some of the plot and some of the scenes but mostly it’s the same. I do not own the supernatural series but there are some things that are completely my imagination, it has nothing to do with the actual mythology or the series)

Phantom Traveler part 1

Season One. Episode Four.

Phantom Traveler. (Part 2)

"This is your late husband?" Sam asked as he picked up a photo frame from the centre table.

"Yes, that was my George." Mrs. Phelps answered.

"And you said he was a dentist?" You asked with an raised eyebrow. You were sitting on a chair beside Dean and Sam was sitting on his other side still examining the picture.

"He was headed to a convention in Denver." Bonnie answered after age nodded in your question. "Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to die like that." Her voice almost broke.

"How long were you married?" You asked softly.

"13 years." She answered.

"In all that time.... Did you ever noticed anything strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?" Sam asked and all of you looked curiously toward Mrs. Phelps.

"Well....he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean." She said and you had to stop the urge of slamming your head on the wall with frustration.

"That will be all, Ma'am." Dean said and you guys stood up to make your way out of the house.

"It goes without saying, it just doesn't make any sense." Sam said as you guys made your way toward the impala.

"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer, is not exactly evil personified." Dean said and an idea struck in your mind.

"You guys know what we need to do? We need to get inside NTSB warehouse check out the wreckage." You suggested and both the boys stopped to look at you.

"Okay, but if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part." Sam said.

"If your suggestion requires me to wear a skirt, it's not gonna happen." You stated coldly.

"We'll get you a pantsuit, don't worry." Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulder and led you toward the car.

Dean drove to the nearest shop that rented suits, which was apparently know as 'Mort's for style.' 'what a weird name.' you thought.

The man inside took your measures and went inside to look for suits which could fit the three of you. Sam and Dean were already dressed in there suits, 'these Winchesters have some good genes' you thought checking out the brothers.

When you looked at Dean again you heart jumped to your throat. "Damn he looks like a snacc" you muttered under your breath and realized how sleazy it sounded.

"Here, it was really hard to find a suit to fit your feminine figure but after a lot of searching, I found this." He said and handed you a suit bag. "Go try it on." He smiled at you and you walked inside the trial room.

Ones you tried it on you were in love with it. The suit looked a lot more feminine than you thought it would. The fabric was lovely and you looked so cool in it. You put on your boots again and walked out of the trial room. The grin didn't leave your face. You guys quickly paid and walked out of the store.

"Man, I look like one of 'the blues brothers'." Dean complained.

"No you don't, you look like a seventh grader at his first dance." Sam said making you chuckle

Dean glared at his brother before saying "I hate this thing."

"Hey you want into that warehouse or not?" You asked and Dean got inside the car without another word.

"I feel like I'm one of the men in black. It's so cool." You gushed and got inside the car as well.

Dean pulled up in front of the NTSB warehouse and he took the lead as you guys walked inside you guys walked confidently up to the desk and flashed your badges. The security guard's eyes fixated on you as he was questioning your age but he let you in anyway. They buzzed the doors and let you in on the wreckage.

You saw as Dean took out a device from his pocket and stuck the car buds in his ear which made you raise an eyebrow.

"What is that?" Sam asked wording out the question you had in mind although you had an idea of what it was.

"It's an EMF meter. It reads electromagnetic frequencies."

"Yeah, we know what an EMF meter is but why does that one look like a busted-up Walkman?" Sam said.

" 'cause that's what I made it out of. It's home made." Dean stated proudly

"Yeah, I can see that." Sam said and the proud smile was immediately gone from Dean's face. You have to say though, intelligence was always something that turned you on.

Dean ran the EMF meter through the parts of the plane. You were walking beside him checking out the wreckage as well. The EMF started going crazy once he ran it over a broken door handle.

"Check out the emergency door handle." There was a yellow powdery stuff stuck on it. Dean scratched it with his fingernail before saying. "What is that stuff."

"Sulphur." You said and the boys looked at you with raised eyebrow. "What? I was a science student, I'm not sure though."

"Well, there's only one way to be sure." Sam said before taking out a knife and scraping it in a small forensic bag. Dean went to wipe his hand on your jacket but you glared at him so he wiped it on Sam's instead.

You heard multiple footsteps running toward the wreckage and you look at the boys and it seemed they heard it too.

"Looks like our partners are here." You ran out of the exit just as those people entered the hall. You peeked from behind the wall to see it was clear and then started walking toward the gate.

When you heard the alarm went off you quickly started running. It was too high for you, before you could say anything a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and helped you up,  you looked down at Dean before latching on the locked gate and jumping on the other side.

"Wow, I could never do that in a skirt." You commented as the three of you ran to the Impala.

Dean immediately drove off to Jerry's office and gave him the powder you collected from the door handle. He put it under a microscope and started analyzing it. "Alex was right, this stuff is covered in sulfur." Jerry said and Dean turned to you with a proud smile on his face.

"You're sure?" You asked

"Take a look yourself." He said and you heard a man outside yelling and pounding at something. "If you fellas will excuse me I have an idiot to fire."

Dean walked over to where Jerry stood and took a look through the microscope. "Hmmm. There's not too many things that leave behind a sulphuric residue." Dean stated.

"Demonic possession?" You said.

"It'd explain how a mortal man would've the strength to open up an emergency hatch." Dean said.

"If the guy was possessed, it's possible." Said Sam.

"This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person but use them to take down an entire airplane?"

"You guys ever heard of something like this before." You asked looking at the boys

"Never." Dean replied and Sam shook his head.

You guys went back to the motel and pulled out every books and articles you had on demons. You and Dean were sitting side by side going through books while Sam was surfing through the internet.

Your thighs brushed together both of you could easily scoot away from each other but you didn't. You felt him sliding even closer to you, as if that was even possible. You snapped out of your thoughts when Sam started talking.

"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, native American, Hindu, you name it."

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this." Dean said resting his hand on your knee.

"Well, that's not exactly true. According to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes,  another causes disease. And this one causes plane crashes."  When you finished once again the boys were looking at you with raised eyebrow.

"Ok I know I said I was a science student but I used to spend a lot of time with Bobby's books...........I didn't really have any friends." You said playing with your hair embarrassingly.

"Wow, you're a bigger nerd than Sam which I thought was impossible." Dean said getting up from the bed. "Ok, alright so what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah and you know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam said and Dean let out a laugh. "What?"

"I don't know, guys. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything just death and destruction for it's own sake. This is big. I wish dad was here." Dean said scratching the back of his head. 

"Yeah, me too." Sam replied and before you could say anything Dean's phone started ringing and he picked it up. "Hello?"  "Hi Jerry. Wha....Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?.....where'd this happened?.... I'll try to ignore the irony in that... nothing Jerry, hang in there, alright? We'll catch up with you soon." Dean said before hanging up.

"Another crash?" You asked.

"Yeah, let's go."

"Where?" Asked Sam.

"Nazareth."

When you guys pulled into Nazareth you saw black smoke coming out from the wreckage. Jerry was already there, collecting any evidence he could take from the plane crash. You guys followed him back to his office and he put a slide under the microscope before examining it. "more sulfur?" Dean asked, Jerry nodded.  "Well, that's great. Alright, so that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"With all due respect to Chuck if that's the case, that would be the good news." Said Sam.

"What's the bad news?" Dean asked.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly 40 minutes into the flight. And get this, so did flight 2485." Sam said.

"40 minutes? What does that mean?" Jerry asked and you opened you mouth to answer him but Dean beat you to it and you have to say you were pretty impressed.

"It's biblical numerology. You know, Noah's ark, it rained for 40 days. The number means death." Dean explained to the completely clueless man standing on his right.

"I went back and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly 40 minutes in" Sam said, you couldn't help but ask if there were any survivors and he said no.

"Not until now, at least not until flight 2485, for some reason." He said.

"On the cockpit voice recorder remember what the EVP said? No survivors, but there were seven survivors, so this demon or whatever, it's going after the survivors." You explained looking between all three men in the room.

"It's trying to finish the job." Said Dean , nodding his head.

You were sitting in the Impala using your skills to make phone calls to the survivors to find out if they had plans to fly again.

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey and if you do plan to fly please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." You said in a extra sweet, high pitched, accented voice. The boys in the front seat cracked up as soon as you hung up the phone.

"You didn't really have to do the accent, you know?" Said Sam.

"Yeah I know but where's the fun in that. Ah well that takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon." You said and crossed off the names on the list.

"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker." Said Dean as he drove toward the airport.

"Right, her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at 8:00 pm. It's her first night back in the job." Sam said.

"Ah that sounds like just our luck." Dean commented sarcastically.

"Dean, this is a five hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel." Sam said.

"Why don't you call Amanda again, see if we can't head her off at the pass."

"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off. God, we're never gonna make it." Sam complained.

"Oh we'll make it." You mumbled before jumping over the seat and sliding down on the front seat.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean almost yelled.

"Dean, why don't you let me drive for a while." You asked sweetly.

"Yeah that's not gonna happen."

"Dean, trust me, I can take us there, an hour top." You said making his eyes widen.

"No way in hell you're doing that to my baby." He almost yelled again.

"Dean, it's time you trust me with your baby, if there's anything I can do better than killing monster and seducing men, this is it." You said.

"Dean give her the wheel." Sam backed you up and you smiled at him.

"Fine but I'm not sitting in the back." He huffed pulling the car to a side and getting out and Sam got to the back. As soon as you touched the steering wheel your insides melted. "God I miss my cherry." You whispered remembering your car as both the boys took their seats and fastened their seat belts.

"Ok, boys, sit tight, we are going for a joyride." You said with a grin and pushed the gas pedal reaching the top speed.

Like you promised, you got there in an hour, well 12 minutes more than an hour and you still had half an hour left. When the boys got out of the car, they looked like they were about to throw up.

"You are never driving ever again." Dean said and snatched away the car keys.

"Alex, we don't have extra lives on us, you know that right?" Sam commented.

All of you rushed inside looking for the departure board. "Right there. They're boarding in 30 minutes." Sam said.

"Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone." Dean says looking around with a nervous look ok he face. You found a courtesy telephone and Dean picked it up immediately. "Hi, gate 13...I'm trying to contact an Amanda walker. She's a flight attendant on the flight, um... Flight 424." He said.

You and Sam leaned into Dean to hear what was going on the other side. "This is Amanda Walker." Came a girl's voice from the other side.

"Ms. Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James. Headfield from St. Francis memorial hospital. We have a Karen walker here." He lied through his teeth. "Nothing serious just a minor car accident but she was injured, so.."

"Wait, that's impossible. I just got off the phone with her."

"You what?" Dean asked and you backed away rolling your eyes. "Oh, well...there must be some mistake."

"Guilty as charged." He said after a few seconds  letting out a fake chuckle. "He's really sorry." He said making you frown. "Yes, but he really needs to see you tonight, so... Don't be like that. Come on, the guy's a mess. Really, it's pathetic......oh yeah. No. No, wait Amanda, Amanda!" Dean yelled and then slammed the phone down.

"Damn it, so close." Dean said pacing around.

"Alright, it's time for plan B. We're getting on that plane." You said not realizing that you never even had a plan b.

"Now, just hold on a second." Dean protested.

"Dean, she's right, that plane is leaving with over 100 passengers on board and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash." Sam explained to his brother.

"I know."

"Well, okay. Then we're getting on the plane, we need to find the demon and exorcise it. Now, we'll get the tickets you get whatever you can out of the car, whatever that'll make it through the security, meet us back here in five minutes." Sam said but Dean didn't move an inch. He looked terrified.

"Are you okay?" You asked and he shrugged. "No. Not really." He squeaked out.

"What? What's wrong?" Sam asked with a frown.

"Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh.."

"Flying?" You completed his sentence.

"It's never really been an issue untill now." His voice was smaller than ever.

"You're joking right?" Sam exclaimed.

"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?"

"Alright uh, she and I'll go." Sam said and you nodded along.

"What?"

"We'll do this one on our own." You said

"What are you, nuts? The plane is gonna crash. You said it yourself."

"Dean look, either you can come with us or we can do this on our own. I'm not seeing a third option here."

"Come on really?......man."

"You know what? Why don't you get the tickets, I'll stay with Dean." He nodded and went away and you turned toward the older Winchester. "You stay right here. I'll go grab the things." You commanded and took the keys from him before going back to the Impala. You gathered the things in a small duffle bag and went back inside to see Dean standing right where you left him, completely pale and slightly shaking.

You walked up to him, his eyes never left yours. "Dean, I need you to focus, buddy. Everything's gonna be alright, ok." You said grabbing both of his hands and he gave you a little nod.

"Now breath with me, slowly, breath in....breath out." You instructed and he tried his best to follow you and breath with you. "very good, now do it again. Breath in.....breath out."

'this is gonna be a hell of a flight...... Literally.'

*******

Part 3

Taglist: @rach5ive @paintballkid711 @chubby-dumplin @hobby27 @colie87 @iilooveereadiingfiics @spnchick1996 @greenarrowhead @for-a-brothers-love @deanw-is-pretty @puppies-make-me-extra-happy

[huntertales]

Part Two: I Just Want To Be Good. (The Great Escapist S08E21)

Episode Summary: When Sam, Dean and the reader receive a distressing video message from Kevin Tran, they set about trying to uncover the third trial. The boys and the reader make a discovery that sends them to a casino in Colorado, to find a mysterious recluse who may be able to fill in the holes in Kevin’s research. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4,949.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

The path to finding someone who could translate a demon tablet you didn’t even have was growing colder with each passing day. Kevin was the only one who knew where it was, and somehow he ended up dead. All the prophets who were in line after him were still going on with their daily lives. You were at a near dead end, but you had one more shot at figuring out what the final trial was before you threw in the towel for good. It was an ambitious move, and probably even a little bit stupid, to track down this Metatron guy. He was the messenger of God who came in contact with this Native American tribe centuries back. It was a long shot, but you didn’t have many left. You were hoping the Two Rivers hotel might have some answers to your questions. 

You followed behind the boys when all of you headed into the casino and hotel, your eyes wandering over the many machines with their flashing lights and noises, enticing anyone who dare take a chance at gambling away their money. For a place like this you were guessing to see old folks gambling away their retirement fund. Maybe even a few people enjoying themselves with a weekend away. But the place was like a ghost town, not even an employee was around to greet the three of you. Dean hit the bell placed conveniently on the counter, hoping it might draw some attention. Sam waited beside his brother, casually glancing around to see if there was any other guests besides the three of you. 

"Morning. Hi. Uh, we'd like a room?" Dean gave whom he presumed was the hotel manager a smile when he saw him emerge from the back office to see who was ringing the bell. The offer for business didn’t seem to make the manager move, he just kept staring at Dean, causing the older Winchester to be more specific. "Here, please." 

You found yourself drifting away when you became curious about seeing the rest of the hotel, wondering what else there might be to do here besides playing a few slot machines. When you noticed a door that lead into another room, you began walking forward to it. You winced slightly in annoyance when you noticed a buzzing sound that you couldn’t describe. It was hard to tell if it was coming from the other room, or your ears were starting to ring. You poked a finger into the canal in some kind of attempt to make it go away, but it only got worse with each step you took away from the boys. It got louder and louder to the point where it felt like white noise. 

For a second you felt like you were in your own world from what happened next. You blinked a few times when you noticed your vision was starting to go blurry, making the game room you spotted hard to see. And the damn ringing was getting louder. You were experiencing something you've never quite felt before. You quickly turned around in your spot and took a step towards the boys, and just like that, suddenly the noise disappeared and you could see just fine again. You furrowed your brow slightly from what just happened. 

“Did you guys hear that?” You asked them, wondering 

"Hear what?" Dean asked you. He listened for any odd sound other than the slot machines and birds chirping outside, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. He looked over at the manager and gave him a friendly smile, explaining your behavior. "She has the flu."

The manager barely showed any changes in his facial expressions, his brow furrowed together at your behavior, causing Dean to awkwardly chuckle and smile once again. When the man still wouldn't even crack the slightest of emotions, Dean rushed out a forged signature and booked it out of there. Dean wasted no time getting out of the lobby and onto one of the double beds.He couldn't stand another night of sleeping next to you with you being like this, your skin hot to the touch. You laid down after complaining that you were thirsty, Sam took on the task of grabbing you a drink while Dean mentioned something about checking around the place. You waved him off when he asked his brother if he was okay with watching you for a few minutes.

Sam watched you as downed a glass of water in mere seconds, acting like a woman dying of thirst before asking for another one. With the fever running through your body, you were bound to be dehydrated. He got up and went to the bathroom sink to get you another. You smiled and tried to somehow take a sip while lying on your side on the bed farthest from the door. The cold water felt amazing down your throat. All though you were hot to the touch, you felt awfully cold. And suddenly so tired. Maybe you were getting the flu. Because you were feeling weird lately. It was different when you were back at the bunker, but you were discovering that your body was feeling more unusual, almost like you were moving in a fog.

“Regular tourist mecca we got here.” You turned your head to the door when you heard it open to see that Dean was back from his sweep around the hotel. “We’re the only guests in this whole place. Last entry in the registry was in ‘06.”

“Mmm. Anyone else getting ‘Psycho’ vibes?” You cracked a joke that you thought wasn’t even the slightest bit funny, but it was enough to make you smile. You tried to put the empty glass on the nightstand, too tired to sit up and make it easier on yourself, only your attempt ended with you missing and accidentally dropping it to the floor a quiet thud, the carpet managed to save it from breaking. Your smile grew wider at your clumsiness and rested your head back into the pillow, you placed an arm over your face, trying to block out the sun peeking out from the blinds. “Hey, Dean, you remember when uh… when John and my mom took us to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, on that pack-mule ride?”

“The what?” Dean asked you, not sure where this conversation came from. 

“And you’re, uh…your mule kept farting, just—letting go, like, gale force?” You weren’t the one to laugh like a school kid at jokes like that. But the memory made you let out a series of laughs that made the boys look at you with an odd expression.

“Y/N, you were like four years old.” Dean said. “I barely remember that.”

You giggled to yourself and turned your head to look at Sam, “Your brother rode a farty donkey.”

“Okay. Uh, since Sam has some background on this kind of stuff, him and I are gonna check out the Two Rivers Tribal Museum and Trading Post.” Dean said, telling you the plan.

“Yeah, yeah! I’m gonna…I’m gonna—“ You were finding it hard for you to sit up on your own, for a second, it seemed like you forgot you were almost six months pregnant with a belly that was far past being a small bump like you remembered. You got yourself up and pointed a finger at the boys to tell tell them what you were going to do while they were gone. “I’m gonna follow the hotel manager. D-Dr. Scowley-scowl. He’s like a villain from Scooby-Doo.”

“No, hey, uh, how about no?” Sam put a stop to your plans, watching as you tried to gather some energy to stand on your feet. You continued to sit on the eye of the bed, trying to force your eyes to stay open to keep this conversation going. “You should get some rest.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled with no resistance at all. “I can do that too.”

And with that, you fell back to the bed, suddenly losing consciousness a little too quickly. When the boys made sure you were still breathing, they made their way out of the room to conduct some of their own research while you to some much needed rest. 

+ + +

You weren’t sure how long you had been sleeping for after your head hit the pillow and lost consciousness in record time. From the way your body was feeling and the thin layer of sweat covering every inch of you, you took a wild guess that it was a while. You groaned softly when you tried to get yourself up into a sitting position, moving slow as possible, not sure why your body aches so much. You looked around the room to see if the boys had returned, but you were still alone. The room was quiet for the most part considering there hadn’t been any other guests since ‘06. You thought that’s what Dean said. Maybe you didn’t hear him right. 

You had been pretty out of it when you got settled into the room, talking about some family trip you took with the Winchester’s decades ago when you were still in each other’s lives. You forgot about it until just recently. The memory was crystal clear in your head, like it happened just the other day. If you had to think about...things had never felt so much clearer. You slowly got up to your feet thinking you just needed to stretch your legs from sleeping in such a stiff position. Maybe even see what the hotel manager was up to. You did mention something to the boys about tailing him to see what he was up to. It was odd enough this place wasn’t crawling with at least a few drifters. Something weird was definitely going on here.

Somehow you were able to get yourself to the door and opened it just enough for you to stumble your way out into the hallway, not taking into consideration how your appearance must look at the moment. There was no doubt in your mind your hair was a mess, your skin felt clammy and sweaty. Not to mention you had a sickly color to your skin. You felt like how you looked right at this moment. But every instinct was telling you to get off your ass and do your job. 

You moved at a gruelingly slow pace, making sure to steady your hand against the wall to keep yourself from falling and the other to block out the extremely bright florescent light. You stumbled your way down the hall and to the corner, wondering the hell the manager was, not taking into consideration you really shouldn’t have been out in the open like this. You took a few steps down the hall until you heard it again...that ringing you noticed when you checked in. This time, it was louder than before. Everything felt off. 

The hallway you stood down of suddenly appeared like it was spinning around you, the ground beneath your feet felt like it disappeared. You couldn’t hear your heavy or even anything else, all you could concentrate on was that chiming noise ringing loudly in your ears. For a second you were caught up in the rush of feeling, not realizing the manager was closer than you thought. Quick as the dizzy spell came, it vanished right after you saw the elevator doors slowly opened, giving you a small window to find a hiding spot. 

You managed to press your backside against the nearest door’s alcove just as the manager stepped off the elevator, pushing something that sounded like a cart from the squeaky wheel that echoed down the hall. You slowly peeked your head out from the corner to see he was crouched down on the ground with his back towards you, giving you a chance to see what he was doing. You noticed he was stacking delivery boxes on top of at least a dozen others. You furrowed your brow slightly in confusion. Why the hell was he delivering packages? There wasn’t anyone else here besides you and the boys. Maybe the previous guests before you checked in and loved the place so much they never wanted to leave. 

When you saw the manager push the cart away and back to the elevator without seeing you, you began moving when you heard the ding of the doors closed shut. You slowly made your way over to the hoard of boxes, wanting to know what was in there. You grabbed one of them to read the mailing address, only to discover it was the same as the hotel’s. All these boxes had to be filled with something important. You ripped open the box to see what was inside. What you discovered was...not what you expected. 

Books. At least a half dozen of them stacked neatly inside. You picked up a hardcover that was a pretty pale blue with silver swirled details engraved into the cover. You read the title, “Oliver Twist” by Charles Dickerson. A classic you remembered reading in English class years back for an essay. Then was more, books of all kinds, from different genres to different decades published. Classics. Mysteries. Self help books to quit smoking. You put them back where you found them, wondering why the hell the manger was dropping them off in another room. That’s when it hit you. 

What do writes love more than creating their own work? Reading other adventures. You pushed yourself back up to your feet and headed to your own room quickly as your body would let you. You didn’t know why you figured it out sooner. He was under your nose the entire time, hiding in plain sight. And yet hidden away from the world, probably spent centuries reading. An introvert’s dream to spend out their days. Their own company fictional beings. Endless worlds that weren’t their own. 

You shut the door behind you and pulled out your phone, you scrolled through your contacts until you found Dean’s number. You blinked a few times to get your eyes to focus when you noticed your vision was starting to grow blurry again. You managed to hit the send button and heard the first ring before you felt yourself starting to get light headed, to the point where you were starting to get nervous you might fall. 

You took a few steps to make it over to the bed closest to you in some kind of attempt to sit down before that could happen. You felt your knees give out on you could make it there, causing your body to stumble to the floor and your phone mere inches from your grip. You didn’t hear the sound of Dean’s voice when he picked up on the second ring.

+ + +

All you remembered before passing out on the hotel room floor was that you were in the middle of trying to make a phone call to Dean after the discovery you made. It was too important not to wait on. You managed to make it back to the room and dialed his number before you found yourself losing consciousness, probably from the fever that was some kind of effect from doing these trials. Everything felt blurry, like you were in a fever dream. During the time you were passed out for a short while from the time the boys discovered you and when you woke up you were bombarded with all sorts of memories you either forgot or compressed down. Things about who you used to be, and the horrible things you did. 

When you finally came back into consciousness you weren’t exactly sure where you were for a split second. Your senses started to pick up on the fact that you felt like you were floating in water, freezing cold from what it felt like. You suddenly realized your lungs were starting to burn, the familiar sensation that made you start to panic. You felt your brain starting to scream for air as you felt your arms suddenly shoot up, feeling for a surface you could grab a hold onto. You grabbed each side of the tub you were lying in and quickly pulled yourself out of the ice cold water, your body freezing cold to the bone and your lungs burning for the need of air. When you finally managed to get yourself up into a sitting position, you quickly realized you were in a bathtub full of ice cold water. 

You inhaled a wheezing breath before the next few came out in short and quick pants from the temperature your body wasn’t used to. You looked up to see the boys were standing above you, the ones who were responsible for putting you here in the first place. You felt your teeth starting to chatter and your body shaking from how freezing you were, you needed to get out of here before you got hypothermia. You slapped away Dean’s hand when he tried to help you out of the tub so you wouldn’t risk the chance of slipping and hurting yourself.

“Get off!” You shouted at him, your voice coming out shaky as you managed to push yourself up to your feet and stumble your way of the tub, only to make yourself feel worse at the even colder feeling room. You stood in the middle of the bathroom with your clothes soaked to your body and your entire body violently shaking. “What the hell?! God!” 

“Take it easy.” Dean told you. You tightly crossed your arms around your chest to try and warm yourself up before you could get anymore freezing. Sam grabbed a towel to wrap around your body to start warming you up best as he could. “We found you on the floor, passed out. Your temperature was a hundred and seven. I had to force it down or you were toast.” 

“He’s here, guys. Metatron is here.” You stuttered out the news you wanted to tell them over the phone before you passed out. Sam momentarily stopped grabbing another towel to try and help warm you up from the words he heard come out of your mouth. Both of the boys gave you a confused expression. “I know it. I can feel it.” 

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked. 

“All I know is that I’m connected to it somehow.” You tried to explain it as best as you could to them, figuring it explained the ringing in your ears and the dizzy spells that you had earlier. 

“What, like you got a link to him, like a prophet?” Dean went on with his questions, wondering what the hell you were talking about. 

“I don’t know! I just know he’s here.” You said. “Metatron is here.” 

“Okay. Where?” Dean decided to amuse this idea of yours, wondering if you were still delirious from the fever you had earlier today.

“I can show you. I can show you.” You muttered to them, sounding a little bit worrisome as you started to get a look in your eye. “The manager—he was delivering books to him.”  

“Books?” Dean repeated what you just said. 

“Books. Hardcovers, paperbacks, novels—books.” You practically spelled it out for them, trying to make them understand the point you had figured it out on your own.��

The boys took a few seconds before you realized why the books were such a factor into figuring out that it was Metatron the entire time, stories were something he would have enjoyed. You shrugged off the towel and wasted no time at all changing into a new set of clothes, wanting to hunt down and have a talk with the angel yourself. The boys kept insisting that you should have kept it easy and rest, but you shrugged off their concerns, saying that you were perfectly fine. Your stumbling around and odd behavior before wasn't exactly proving you were in good shape to keep on going like how you wanted. 

You managed to get dressed and make your way out the door with the boys following right after you in some kind of fear that you might fall again and hurt yourself this time. You took your time getting out into the hall again, steadying yourself on the wall while Sam kept his arm stretched out just enough to catch you if you were to take a tumble, Dean shut the door behind him and began following behind you as you slowly made your way down the hall to the room you were trying to show them that supposedly belonged to this angel. 

“I should be taking you to the E.R.” Dean said, sharing his concern for your wellbeing. 

“They can’t do anything for me. I have to get worse before I can get better.” You found yourself mumbling the last sentence to yourself, but Sam managed to catch your rambling. “You know, I’ve been remembering things—little things so clearly.”

“What?” Dean asked you. “Donkey rides?”

“You used to read to me, when you were still learning how to, from this really old Grimm's fairy tale book. My favorite one used to be 'Little Red Riding Hood.' You read it so much that I'm pretty sure you had it memorized. You would always make up these voices for all the characters. You always told me that you were the hunter. And I was Red.” You found yourself reminiscing on a memory from times when things were much simpler, when you still lived in Lawrence and the boys were in your lives. You and Dean shared a small moment of childhood innocence that was long lost from the years. Until you started to remember all of it. “I thought I was for a long, long time. Little Red Riding Hood, I mean.” 

You steadied one hand on the wall as you kept on walking with the boys following behind you, for a second you wondered why you were saying any of this. But another part of you felt like you needed to get the past off your chest. "I used to be obsessed with that stupid book. You know that? I forced my mom to read me a story from it for the first year when I moved to Y/H/S. It was the only thing that would help me fall asleep. Mostly it was the ones where the princess or some pretty damsel was cursed. They had something wrong with them. I thought I was one of them, too. How stupid was that?” 

You found yourself smiling at the things that were coming out of your mouth, finding your childhood innocence on things so stupid. “Yeah. It’s normal for little girls to believe in fairy tales. Happy endings and Prince Charming. But that wasn’t it. Things happened to me that nobody could explain. I thought it was easier to believe that someone cursed me. And that one day it was all going to disappear. I didn’t know what was really wrong…” You felt a lump form in your throat at the clear memories flooding back to you, things you tried so hard to forget. “I should’ve.”

You used to hear voices. See things nobody else could. And have blackouts of rage that you didn’t even remember doing. All of this was things turned into a blurry memory before you subconsciously buried deep down inside of you. Every trace of hints that you were a monster were hidden from daylight for long as possible. You settled into a safe and normal lifestyle your mother sold her soul for. Maybe she knew the entire time what kind of monster she made. She tried her hardest to keep it chained up and brainwashed you into keeping away from the very thing that brought you into this world. But one could only do so much beyond the grave. 

When you’re a kid, you’re taught the things that go bump in the night were just figments of your imagination. Characters in a story that was made up by someone to scare little kids. But kids have the mindset to believe these things. Because at that age anything is possible. For a short time before society and adulthood tricks us into thinking, you know about the evil in the world. And yet you’re still innocent enough to believe there is good as well. When you grew up you learned the truth. But the part of optimism where you get a happy ending dies. You had to take off your rose colored glasses and see the world for what it was. The monster you always were. 

“What are you talking about, Y/N?” Sam asked you, wanting to make sense of all the things that were coming out of your mouth. 

You stopped walking and stood there for a second with your hand pressed against the wall. You slowly turned around in your spot to face the boys to continue on with what you were saying. “I thought for the longest time I was Little Red Riding Hood, walking through life and being tricked by monsters who pretended to be my friend. Deep down. I thought I was good. But I wasn’t. I was never...clean.” The way your lips twitched at the word, it made it seem like you were saying a vile thing. “I was the wolf hiding in plain sight. I lied to you guys. I lied to myself. For the longest time I tricked people into thinking I was capable of making good decisions. But everything I touched turned to crap. I was tainted. Evil.”

You felt your lips twitching into what looked like a smile, but your eyes told a different story from how you were feeling at the moment. The boys had felt their fair share of emotions over the years, Sam had empathized with your pain about feeling unclean. At the end of all of it, you weren’t to blame for how you turned out. “Y/N, it’s not your fault.” 

“For the longest time I thought it was. I blamed myself for the horrible things that happened. Sam dying. You going to hell. Lucifer being set free. The apocalypse. Everything could have been avoided if I made different decisions. I mean, knowing that I was a half-demon didn't really bother me. I could control her. I did my entire life. You know what really hurts the most?” You asked them, but not giving them a second to take a guess. They would never get it.” “It’s the fact that Lucifer made me. The most evil thing out there created me. I felt so alone. Isolated.” 

“You’re not alone, Y/N.” Sam reassured you. He placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, hoping a touch would break you out of this head space. “You never were.”

“I’m the only of my kind. And there was no changing that. But I don’t feel like that anymore. Because these trials..." You felt yourself inhaling a deep breath, taking a pause between what you were about to say next. The look on your face from the things you knew for the future made you seem like you were suddenly at ease, despite all the things you admitted to just a few minutes earlier. A sense of hope followed after, it bloomed in your chest from the three words that followed after. "they're purifying us." 

Dean felt himself being taken aback from the last word that slipped out from your mouth. He found himself standing there for a moment, trying to wrap his head around what you meant by that. Even though in the back of his mind he knew the answer, he wanted to hear it out of your mouth. The different answer than he suspected. You had been acting strange since you started the trials, and you were only getting worse. He watched as you made it down the hall and to the last door on the right. You stood there for a moment, trying to find something that was no longer there. 

“They were here, the books, the boxes!” You pointed at the empty ground that no longer had the things you seen earlier today. Your voice was growing frustrated at what was happening. All of this was making you look like you were going crazy. “They—They’re gone.”  

What you didn’t discover was the fact that room three sixty-six was opened just the slightest to anyone who dared walk inside. Dean took it upon himself to push open it wider and took a look inside to the hotel room you claimed belonged to Metatron. He stepped inside first to see the place was empty, you followed after and Sam trailed behind, discovering a collection of books that must have taken decades. You felt your anger slowly subsiding when you discovered the stock pile of books all around you. Piles that were taller than you, neatly stacked on tables. You read every title you could as you passed by, wondering to yourself if they had all been read. 

The more you traveled into the place, the more you discovered thousands upon thousands of books from what it felt like. All neatly packed together on the floor and shelves. Someone was a bit of a bookworm. You and the boys traveled farther into the hotel, trying to find this angel you had traveled all the way here to see, not taking into consideration he might have been one step ahead of you. You felt your gaze going straight forward when you felt someone’s grip around your arm tug you back slightly, stopping you from walking into the barrel of a shotgun. 

[Next Part]

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[spnfanficpond]

April Angel Fish Awards

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle or Mana to check and make sure we got your submission.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE APRIL’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @kittenofdoomage

Known by @stusbunker 

I haven’t finished reading it yet but it’s a really unique story, very dark and gritty. It’s brilliant so far and I can’t wait to read the rest. I’m not usually one to read OC’s either but the mix of OC and reader is so well done… anyway, I love it lol

As I Live and Breathe by @katehuntington 

This is an awesome Dean x reader. Her writing style is really good, she’s got so much potential, everyone should check out her masterlist.

Nominated by @slytherkins 

Hell and Apathy by @risingphoenix761 

Oh. My. Glob. I do not even have words to adequately describe how much I love this fic. It’s like dying and going to fanfic heaven. This. This is what they would serve there. It’s so well written. So in character. For something so short, it’s breathtakingly dark and angsty. There is instant mood. BAM. MOOD. It’s the perfect length, too. It could have easily been overdone or underdone, but it is just right. It brings up all the right questions. It. Is. Hawt. Like, not a little bit. Like, all the way. It is surface-of-the-sun scorching.  This fic…this fic is perfection. 

St. Fergus by @risingphoenix761 

This fix-it fic is amazeballs. Part crack, part existential reflection. There be banter, and it’s all marvelously In Character.  (Pre-s14 finale In Character, that is. *shakes fist at Chuck*) It’s funny. It’s heartwarming. It better have a sequel or I’m going to die.

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis 

His Princess (series) by @georgialouisea

At first, I thought I’d like this just because I do love a good royal AU, but in the most recent part, the story took a turn that I truly wasn’t expecting!! I always love me some protective Winchesters, and bodyguard!Dean is wonderful, but this story has a few extra elements to it that I can’t help but wonder if they’re going to play into the story. I can’t wait to find out!!

Sweet Reunion by @wi-deangirl77 

This is the part of the 300th episode that the Show forgot to show us. What exactly did John and Mary get up to while the boys were in town picking up groceries and discovering TEDTalk!Sam was a thing? Heh heh heh. You know. *wink*Wink*nudge*nudge* This is sweet and romantic without getting NSFW and it gave me all the John and Mary feels!!!

House of the Rising Sun (series) by @kittenofdoomage 

I mean, of course, everything Rhi writes is fabulous, and her smut is top shelf, but this series is making me ask questions about Stockholm Syndrome and consent and other issues presented in this story. There’s a million directions this story could go and I can’t wait to see which one Rhi picks!!

Bed of Roses (series) by @crispychrissy 

This is a mobster AU where the first thing Dean does is torture our heroine for information. The second thing he does is fall for her. Things just go downhill from there, with twists and turns you might not expect. I can’t wait to find out if she can ever get past everything and love Dean! I literally grin every time I see an update!

Control and Release (series) by @thecleverdame 

HOLY HOTNESS, BATMAN!! TEDTalk!Sam has some control issues and likes to exert most of them over the reader. In public. I don’t know if this will ever take a turn for the soft and romantic, but even if it doesn’t, this story is STEAMING!!

Dear Dean (series) by @purpleskiesandcherrypies 

I wasn’t sure if I could really get into a WWII AU since I’m not much of a history buff, then I read the first chapter and nearly busted! Jamie Blum, only sister in a family of brothers, parents long since dead, decides to follow her brothers when they all go off to war. But instead of becoming a nurse, she cuts off her hair, puts on her brother’s clothes, and goes to fight under the command of Lt. Dean Winchester. POV switches between the two, AND I LOVE IT. This is a must read!!

Splintered Flames, Burning Dreamer by @thedevilinthedetails 

Part 1 of this is your typical ABO fuck-or-die scenario, with a good amount of angst layered into it. Part 2, however, takes that angst, multiplies it, and stabs you right in the heart with it. Then, just when you think you’re done, it rips your heart right out and stomps on it. A lot. SO GOOD!!!!

Nominated by @thelittleredwhocould 

Crazy Love by @saxxxology

This series is hot AF. Saxxy fucking killed it. Plus, as someone who’s part-Native American, this fic is extra awesome to me.

Take the Edge Off by @saxxxology 

For all your TED!Sam needs. Delicious.

Bitten (series) by @saxxxology 

I haven’t seen many monster!Winchester fics and this is one of my favs. I absolutely love the spin Saxxy puts on A/B/O in this verse. Plus, smut. Sexy sexy smut.

Faith and Amazing Grace by @mrswhozeewhatsis 

I absolutely love this revisiting of a s1 episode. So angsty. So good.

I Know Your Wife (She Wouldn’t Mind) (series) by @teamfreewill-imagine 

This is a fic that will never get old, imo. I don’t read RPF (like, ever), but Jamie has created such beautiful dynamics between all the characters and this fic gives me life.

Forever by @bamby0304 

Feelings. Aaaaaaallllll the feeliings. So many feelings. I might have cried a little.

Her Saviours (series) by @bamby0304 

I am adoring this rewrite. The relationships between the reader and the boys are such a mess, and watching them work through familiar cases together is so much fun. The very sexy sex is a nice bonus ;D

Spanner in the Works (series) by @bamby0304 

This is probably one of my favorite series I’ve read so far this year. This is also the fic that first really introduced me to Amber’s writing and I can’t wait to see how it goes.

Nominated by @manawhaat

We Kill and We Fuck (oneshot) by @jayankles

Well, fuck me! I am a sucker for serial killer kink, through and through, and this fun twist of A/B/O, AND Alpha Ruby with the two of them... hot damn!

 I Have A Dream (oneshot) by @idreamofplaid

It’s so fluffy!!! I absolutely love tattoo artist Jared, love the tattoos you described on his body, love the sea shells and that he does it on you in the comfort of your own place. It’s soft and warm and ugh, just so Jared. 

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

As with the BFAs, these are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

[callsign-hummingbird]

Dean Winchester Dating A Native American would include

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Native American Reader. Idea came from @tinymoony

Ever since he found out that you’re a pow wow dancer, he wants to go to more pow wows.(disregard this, if you don't pow wow dance.)

He starts listening to all the Native Rez Songs with you like, NDN car, Come and Get Your Love, and artists like A Tribe Called Red.

He surprisingly loves the music you've shown him.

Whenever there is anything that involves Native American Legends, especially with your tribe, Sam and him always look to you. You have friends all over.

He loves your hair and always plays with it or tries to find a reason to run his hands through it.

He tries all that he can to learn about your culture.

Whenever you guys always hunt near a reservation and go to a bar, other Native guys seem to hit on you.

This gets him jealous because he is not your ethnicity and thinks that you will leave him for those Native guys.(which you probably won’t)

He loves, loves, loooovvvveeesss when you talk in your language. He thinks its such a turn on and would love to hear you talk in it all day.

He especially loves when you say that you love him in your language.

He loves it when you tell him about the legends of your tribe. It makes him feel honored that you would even consider telling him.

There are many fights between who was better, cowboys or indians. You usually win those fights because he can’t think of a good enough reason why cowboys are better.

You finally give into his little cowboy fantasies and become his”indian princess”.

You have tried to tell him that there is no such thing as a Native American princess and that Cherokee Princess is actually a derogatory term, but he won’t listen.

He tells you that you are a princess in his eyes and that since you are Native American and his, that automatically makes you his “Indian Princess”.

You have to tell him that Indians are from India and how Columbus thought he had landed on India, so that’s how the nickname stuck. Then you tell him that it’s Native American or Indigenous.

He still won’t listen either and says that if Clint says so, then it must be true.

This makes you facepalm and gives him the silent treatment.

He hates that you won’t talk to him and finally changes it to his “Native American Princess”.

He dreams about having a family with you and about what your kids look like.

He never stares at anyone else but you.

He loves the way your skin looks and is just fascinated by the color.

Oh yeah, He definitely has a thing for Native Girls.

He loves how you help him and Sam learn your language, so that they both can start communicating with you that way. It brings a stronger bond between you both.

Cas is fascinated with your culture too and asks if you can hook him up with a Native girl too.

Sam is very protective of you and sees you as a little sister.

He likes watching Native Tik Toks with you. Afterwards, you teach him how to use Tik Tok.

Whenever fair season comes around, he dresses up like a cowboy and always wants you to dress up Natively(if that’s even a word….)

When you go visit your family, they always joke that he has to bring them eight animals of some kind and some land, if he ever wants to marry you.

This gets him freaked out a little, but after you tell him that it’s just a joke, he calms down.

Your dad makes him chop and haul wood whenever you guys come over.

Your mom teaches him how to make frybread when he comes over.

She’s impressed because he did such a good job on making the frybread round. Bruh…

This is quite a turn on for you.

You guys make Frybread night a thing and make Frybread together.

Your family jokes a bunch with him, but he doesn't mind.

He surprisingly gets all the Native Jokes.

He starts using Native Pickup lines on you.

This doesn't end well...

He loves you so much, that he asks you to marry him.

He loves how you get possessive of him whenever girls are around.

He loves how crazy and passionate you get about something. This drives him mad.

He finally knows who Adam Beach is...haha.....

He loves you and thinks that you are the most beautiful girl in the world!

[stusbunker]

Known: Friends in a Fix

A Supernatural Dark Fan-fiction

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Demon!Reader, Dean x Female Vessel OC

Series Masterlist

A/N: With the dates I let you know where the action falls in regards to air dates, I try not to repeat information you already know. Please ask if something doesn’t make sense! xoxo Stu

Not really any warnings this chapter, there will still be show level violence, possession, mental health concerns, and a reminder that it is a Slow Burn. Each Chapter will have its own warnings, because I am generous like that. xoxo Stu

The dark figured loomed in the doorway, an insipid strobe light shone from another room, effectively blinding her as she tried to make out a face or species to her capture. Chloe was pinned down to a wide table, unable to move any of her extremities and the maddening realization that she was going to die like some bitch in a horror movie caused her to taunt the bastard.

“Oh goodie, you’re here—” her voice came out flat, as if she had an accent or something shoved in her mouth. When she looked down at her surroundings, everything shifted. Her hands paled and thinned as she tried to figure out what was happening. Then his voice sent a shiver down her spine, it was familiar yet ominous. Her head snapped up to face him when suddenly she woke up.

The raggedy blanket she kept along the passenger’s seat back wedged beneath her head as a makeshift pillow.

Earth Date: October 8, 2013

Location: A Rest Stop Somewhere between Madison and Milwaukee

She never had nightmares, for a hunter it was a rare quality, one that she had prided herself on. That was until she started to, when exhaustion nor booze could quell the festering dreams that haunted her even in daylight. CC started to question her fortitude, trying to relive the past few weeks and see what would have triggered such elaborate horrors. It was like she had ingested someone’ else’s trauma, the unfinished memories at odds with her own strengths and fears. She quickly grew dismayed over the new, if unfounded, weakness.

CC sat up, rubbing her face with flat swipes of her palms, chasing away the barely two hours of sleep she had managed before the last episode. She stared at the clock on the dash before grumbling to herself and starting the engine. She had turned off her phone the night before after a landline had refused to stop calling and to leave a message with more information than a selfish urgency. There were only a handful of people Chloe Collins would answer after that kind of dramatics, and two of them were dead. She thought about calling Garth, but let the idea float out of her focus as quickly as the wind picked up over the moraines.

It was another day before she remembered to turn her phone back on, having driven mindlessly until she stopped in front of an overgrown gas station and convenience store that looked like it had survived a tornado or some other natural disaster that would have shattered its windows. There was a residue to the place, as if a spirit had led her there to clean up its mess. If there was a spook behind the numbing atmosphere, it remained perpetually silent and out of sight.

“Hey, look, I know things are probably bad out there, but if there is any chance you are near Colorado, call me. Sam’s laid up and, I, I can’t do this myself, not right now. Consider this calling in all my favors. Thanks, Chloe.” Dean Winchester’s voice dropped on her name, it was a plea, not a sign off. He never used her real name. And he rarely asked for help. She turned West before scrolling for his number in her contacts list.

Nothing seemed real anymore.

Location: Nebraska

Despite the bright sunshine and crisp air, Castiel was growing bitter towards his surroundings. He heard Hael’s warnings in his memory as he walked down the quiet two-lane road. Hoping he could do what he had to, in order to stay as far away from every other angel as possible. He had changed clothes, spending his last coins on vending machine nutrients and a bottle of water. The truck driver had been polite enough, dropping him off at the next stop without any agreed upon repayment. And so, he started walking, again, painfully hungry and alone.

The passing vehicles rumbled passed Cas in a blur, his arm held out awkward and listless as he glanced half-heartedly at the few potential rides. Suddenly a rusted pick up screeched along, failing to come to a complete stop as it blew through the shoulder and into the grassy ditch. Castiel instinctively chased after the seemingly out of control vehicle, worry cresting his brow. When he reached the passenger side window, his stomach pitched against its emptiness.

Demon.

The woman appeared frozen, knuckles white against the worn steering wheel. She was shaking either from the impact of the accident or from fighting the entity that was trying to control her. Once he spoke, she spun to face him, her heart shaped face familiar over the parasite’s sinister features.

“I know you—”

“Castiel?” The woman’s voice croaked out of her clenched jaw. The flash of her grey eyes and the charm hanging from her rearview mirror brought pieces of old conversations and images back into focus. Dean mentioning a friend who had made repelling talismans by combining Native American chants with hoodoo ingredients. Her grandfather was a master of petroglyphs, spellwork and runes while her mother had visions from an early age.

“Chloe? Chloe Collins? Did Dean send you?” Castiel’s voice was urgent, but the worry clouded his now human features.

“I tried to stop, but my foot, it’s like it wouldn’t--- am I okay?” She begged for reassurance, not being able to move more than an inch in either direction. Castiel pained for this woman, unaware and at the mercy of her attacker.

“You’re going to be fine,” Castiel walked around the truck, never taking his eyes off of the hunter. When he reached the driver’s side door, the demon took hold. Her head tilted at an unnatural angle, eyes blackened as a horse-like huff flared her nostrils.

“Hello, thief. Long time.” The demon struggled back against her host, Chloe’s voice wavered as she pushed open the door, sending Cas flat on his ass. She leaped from the cab, nearly pouncing on him.

“What’s a-matter?” The demon continued to taunt him, “It seems if the jailbreaker has lost its wings?”

Castiel drew the Angel Blade from inside his stolen hoodie, the fear and humanity rolling towards the demon’s nostrils in intoxicating waves. The weapon got the demon’s attention, she snarled at him as worried voices came out of nowhere. Cas looked back to the road, a family had pulled over to check on the stalled vehicle. The mother’s voice beckoning to the father as he approached the struggling pair.

“Everybody okay over here?” The man’s large hands were gripped in front of his chest as if he was warming them before beginning a task.

Chloe’s eyes returned to normal as she leaned down to pull Castiel back onto his feet. He didn’t say anything but gave the demon/hunter a sidelong glance.

“Yeah, should be, I got caught rubbernecking this one, but he was kind of enough to see that me and my truck are square.” Chloe’s voice had returned, her thick hair drifting in the breeze as she shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans.

“You okay, man? You look like you saw a ghost!” The concerned motorist chortled as Castiel thought about what the man meant.

“No, there are no restless spirits here.” Castiel’s confusion broke the man’s revelry.

“Alright, could you do me a favor and wave to the Missus? She wouldn’t believe me unless everyone’s smiling.” As if on cue, Chloe and the bystander turned and waved back at his minivan, his wife beaming with relief as Castiel tried to patch on a smile. As soon as the family was back on the road with another round of enthusiastic waving from Chloe, Castiel redrew his blade.

She froze with the deadly point pressing gently above her kidney, “You kill me, you kill the girl, Castiel. You might be a half-dead has-been, but you wouldn’t do that to the Winchesters. Not when Dean sent her to collect you.”

“What are you doing with her?” Castiel was unmoved by her rationality.

“Nothing you need to worry about, besides,” the demon spun, hard, landing a firm elbow to his temple. “We are too exposed out here, for both our sakes.”

***

Castiel woke in her passenger seat a few hours later, the sun igniting the horizon behind them in a burst of pink and lavender. Chloe smiled at him as she briefly took her eyes off the road. He sat up, hand twitching over his missing weapon.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hunt you Castiel.” Her voice was soft and genuine, he realized he was talking to the woman and not the demon now. “But, if you don’t believe me, the Angel Blade is under your seat. I didn’t want to accidentally stab you while I dragged your unconscious ass into the cab.”

Cas didn’t bother verifying her explanation, he had grown too distracted by the giant-sized soft drink in the cupholder. “May I?” He asked with an audible swallow over his parched throat.

“Be my guest,” CC hummed a melody after her offer, one in stark contrast to the radio commercial jingle playing. Castiel removed the thin plastic lid and poured the bubbly, icy liquid down his throat. He paused when the frigid temperature burned his chest, just as an obnoxious belch escaped his lips.

“Excuse you,” CC chuckled, handing him a fistful of napkins from the glove compartment, he hadn’t realized he had spilled down his front.

“Why are you helping me?” Cas’s question caught her off guard.

“Obviously, so I can hold you hostage and take advantage of you,” CC didn’t miss a beat, winking at the perplexed grimace on the Angel-man’s face. “I’m a friend of the Winchesters? Dean was freaking out because Sam was laid up, so he asked if I was near Colorado?”

She continued to end each sentence as if it were a question, hoping the connections would be made in his brain. “When did you last talk to Dean?”

“I haven’t, just started driving West. Got pretty lucky to have spotted you, too. You look half-dead. Everything alright?” She was leading him, but he didn’t feel threatened with her concern.

Castiel sighed, “I’m not up to my full power, thank you for your help, Ms. Collins.”

“CC, Cas. It’s, just, CC.”

***

Castiel felt their presence before he heard his name over the radio waves, the Angels were closing in on him. Traveling with a demon, even a somewhat accommodating one, had been too risky after all. They had stopped for gas and a quick meal, but he knew better than to lead his fallen brethren back to CC and whoever was possessing her. Before CC returned from the women’s room, Cas ducked out of the small convenience store and made his way across the highway to a fast food restaurant.

He slowly made his way up the frontage road and stuck his thumb out for a ride in the opposite direction. Twenty minutes later, he was whisked away, hopefully drawing the Angels away from the confusing demon’s scent.

That night he called Dean from a borrowed cellphone at a group home.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas, what the hell?!” Dean barked over the line.

“I wanted to contact you because, well, I left CC at a truck stop in Nebraska.”

“Glad to know she got my message, why’d you split? Everything alright?”

“No, the Angels were trailing me, and I didn’t want to endanger her. Dean? How long has she—"

“Yeah, sorry about that, she can be a bit of a pistol sometimes,” Cas could hear the eye roll in Dean’s voice.

“That’s not what I mean, Dean. You do know that—”

“Oh, okay, right. Sorry, man, Sam was talking. Listen, you just get here asap. I’ll call Chloe before she burns half the corn fields looking for your ass.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

“You sure you don’t want us to pick you up?”

“No, Dean, I think I can manage another state or two.” It was Cas’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Well, okay. But, uh, be careful out there, man.” Castiel hung up as his cover name was called out from the reception desk, announcing his bed assignment.

***

Earth Date: October 13, 2013

Location: Las Vegas, Nevada

Chloe kicked herself for showing up to the care facility on a Sunday afternoon. The residents were exhausted from an outing the day before and the staff was not the most enthusiastic to last minute visitors. An extremely tall blonde female resident frowned at CC as she approached the corner where her mother sat gossiping. With the practiced patience and subtly of her trade, she slid into a seat beside her mother and listened to the perceived drama around her.

One of the night nurses was a kleptomaniac, Doris, her mother’s companion was certain. It was all very mundane with a nostalgic level of neighborhood paranoia, drawing an easy curl to her closed lips. CC sat for ten minutes before the women looked up and realized they had company, her hands folded over her elbows as if holding herself together.

“Hey, Mama,” she leaned forward and patted her mother’s knee. Her mother watched her skeptically, following her hand as it retracted back to her lap as if Chloe’s had personally offended her.

“What’s the matter with you?” Her mother’s tone was blunt, but to be expected. “Your energy is all foggy.”

“It’s nice to see you too,” CC grumbled, tucking her hair behind her ear, her piercings sparkling in the pre-sunset glow that shown through the long windows behind them.

“Please tell me you didn’t bring something with you? I don’t have the means to expel spirits in here.” Her mother huffed, searching the area around their small square of chairs as if a ghost would jump out at the suggestion and attack them all. CC sighed, somethings never changed, mood disorder medicated or not. Her mother had dark eyes and kept her hair in a thick, meticulous plait down her back. Other than that, the women were nearly identical, barely a laugh line or forehead crease deeper on her mother’s smooth features versus her own.

“I’m clean, Ma’am, I know what I’m doing,” CC whispered adamantly now. “Can we talk in private?”

Her mother eyed Doris knowingly, “Like you’re going to rat us out, I swear.”

“Fine.” Chloe leaned back, sighing as the older women shared a look.

“Constance, I’ll be back, I’m going to tell our eavesdropper to mind her own damn business.” Doris and Constance snapped their heads back to land disapproving eyes on the woman that had given CC a very similar look when she first arrived. Soon, Doris was out of earshot.

“Do you hear them?” CC asked, looking at her mother’s shoes.

“Of course, I hear them, girl. They won’t shut the hell up. It’s like they think they’re the only ones to experience a change of address.” Constance Collins groaned, rubbing her temples against the broadcast of celestial communication.

“Yeah, well, moving pains are the least of our worries. It’s like a temper tantrum met turf warfare.” CC explained what she had figured out about the dispelled angels’ situation.

“What are you going to do about it?” Constance watched her daughter, noting the shadows that drooped into her usually full cheeks.

“See how it pans out for now, I guess. Not really something a single hunter can do about all of Heaven.” CC shrugged.

“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.” Her mother recited verbatim.

“Thanks, Margaret, didn’t realize I had stepped in to a Soc class.” CC rolled her eyes.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, Chloe Cathleen. If you want to fix this mess; you can. Simple as that.”

“Thanks?”

“Anytime,” her mother smirked at her, until CC’s face pulled up and grinned back. “You in town?”

“Not really,” CC admitted, checking her phone for the time.

“Well, the night meds get distributed soon, better scoot before they added you to the queue, doll-baby.”

CC stood, rubbing her sweaty palms on the front of her fitted jeans. “Take care of yourself, Mama.”

Constance stood leaning up to place her cheek against her daughter’s, and with a short hum came a dark send off. “Don’t be too reckless out there. Come back to me.”

CC closed her eyes, “Of course, Mama.”

They broke apart and left with stuttering smiles on both of their lips.

Earth Date: October 17, 2013

Location: The Bunker

Dean woke to the frustrating buzzing of his phone against his nightstand, without a glance at the caller id he groaned a greeting.

“Go for Winchester.”

“Dean?” She sounded so small.

“Chloe, Christ, where have you been?! I’ve been calling for weeks.” Dean sat up, batting at the covers in order to free his bare legs, tossing them over the side.

“North Carolina, uh, just outside of Whittier.” She wasn’t sounding any better the longer she talked. “Uh, I don’t know how I got here, Dean. I remember looking into a case and then nothing.”

“Are you somewhere safe?” Dean rubbed his eyes, panic flooding his thoughts.

“I’m in a diner, but I don’t know where my truck is or—”

“Okay, well get a room, call me and I’ll give them my card. Got it?”

“Yeah, okay, right, first motel in the phonebook, right?”

“That’s my girl. Okay, sit tight. I’ll be there soon.” Dean waited for her sign off, throwing on pants with one hand to his ear.

“Okay, thanks, Dean.” Dean swallowed, exhaling tightly before ending the call. Everything from hex bags to Angel possession crossed his mind as he drove East in a fury. He could have called another hunter, he should have told Sam where he was going, but he didn’t. He just drove.

 My girl. Dean’s words flooded your thoughts as you sat hunched over your malt at the diner counter. Now the waiting began.

tags: @dontshootmespence @because-imma-lady-assface @mrswhozeewhatsis @smi727 @sassykayla255 @dxr-supernatural-fanfic @supernaturalboi @dumbthotticus @eve05glee @veroinnumera @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @forgettingthoughts @shokushuhime-stuff @fanfictionrecommendations-com @soullesscollection-world @igotdressedthroughthemess 

Next Chapter: A Line Once Crossed

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The Winchester House

Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 1629

Summary: The Winchester brothers meet their match in this house filled with vengeful spirits. When the three of you get separated in it’s twisting corridors it would be a wonder for you to make it out alive.

Notes: Here’s the main Halloween Special for you guys! I figured Supernatural was perfect for Halloween, so I hope you enjoy! (Taking some creative liberty with the house, so it isn't going to necessarily be accurate) I also kind of ran out of time for this one, so excuse any mistakes or anything. 

You stared out the Impala window, laughing at the irony of the song. Sam looked at through the rearview mirror.

“What?” He asked, smiling at your amusement.

“Thriller? Really?”  You snorted. Sam shrugged.

“I thought it was fitting.”

“I hate Halloween.” Dean groaned from the passenger seat, trying to sleep. The three of you had been driving for hours to the location Dean had been dreading ever since you’d gotten the call from the caretaker. Apparently, the hauntings at the well known Winchester House had gone from the occasional ghostly whisper to dismembered patrons in the kitchen.

“Holy shit,” You muttered, looking up at the massive house as Sam parked. The three of you got out of the car and were greeted by a frantic caretaker.

“Thank god you’re all here.” He sighed, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief. He pulled you and Sam into an awkward hug and you shot each other a look. “This way.” He ushered you up to the front door. “Nothing usually happens until nightfall, but I thought you guys would want to look around.”

“That sounds great,” Sam said, noticing the man’s wariness to open the door. “If you want, we can just head in on our own and settle in.” The man shook Sam’s hand vigorously.

“Thank you. Thank you.” He rushed back down the stairs to his own car and sped off without another word.

“He seemed nice.” Dean scoffed, stepping inside. All of your jaws dropped. The Winchester House. Everywhere you looked there was another passage, another door, or another set of stairs. “This place must be ghost central,” Dean said, looking through the bag of weapons that he had brought in. Sam pulled the map he'd printed off out of his pocket.

“Okay, so he said that the seance room is the most active so we should probably set up there.” It took the three of you nearly ten minutes to find the room, getting lost in the twists and turn.

“This place is gonna be a bitch to get around at night.” You muttered.

“No kidding.” Sam agreed, ducking to have to fit through the door. The room was empty and cold, all of you immediately feeling uneasy. You shivered and Sam grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through yours. Dean took a deep breath.

“Let’s get to work.”

After nearly two hours of gathering iron weapons and laying down salt in every crevice, the sun began to set. The house was deadly silent. The floor started to shake, the three of you holding onto each other.

“What the hell was that?” Dean boomed. You grabbed a salt-filled shotgun.

“There’s only one way to find out.” You stepped toward the door, but Sam grabbed your arm.

“Are you crazy? We don’t know how many spirits are even out there.” His eyes were sincerely worried. “The legend is that this place is haunted by the people that the Winchester rifles killed. Which means this place is crawling with vengeful spirits.”

“Are you guys sure you’re not related to these people?” You teased, hiding the fear behind your eyes with humor. Sam sighed, seeing right through you. He’d always been able to tell how you were really feeling and it drove you nuts. “Look, we’re not going to do anything just hiding out in here. If we want to catch some of this bastards, we have to go to them.”

“She’s got a point.” Dean sighed, grabbing his own gun. Sam glared at him.

“Fine!” He exclaimed. “But if we’re going out there we are going together.”

“That was the plan.” You smirked. You knew if you pushed, he would have to come with you. There was no way in hell you were going by yourself. You stepped out into the hallway and felt the floor start to shake again. You looked up at Sam, this time letting the fear show. “Sam?”

You screamed as the floor shot upwards, Sam’s shouts getting lost in the sound of stone and wood rubbing against each other. The hallway jolted this way and that and you felt your head spinning as it finally stopped.

“Sam!” You called out into the darkness. “Dean!” There was a laugh behind you and you whirled around, firing a round into the large man dressed in pioneer clothing. With an ear-splitting shriek, he vanished. You checked how many rounds you had, finding that there were barely enough to even get to another hallway if what Sam said was right. “Shit.”

Dean had grabbed Sam just in time before his leg was sheared off by the moving wood.

“Y/N!” Sam cried out, but you were already gone.

“This is not good.” Dean watched as other rooms and hallways flew by. As soon as everything was stable again, Sam bolted out of the room, looking down every hall he could see, but it was no use. You could be anywhere.

“Y/N!” He shouted again into the empty halls. Dean followed him, watching the shadows carefully. Sam turned around and saw a Native American woman lifting a knife behind Dean. “Look out!” He shot her in the head and she disappeared.

Meanwhile, you were tiptoeing to the nearest room. Inside, the walls were lined with frames with stained-glass windows. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket and hit Sam’s number.

“Y/N?” He answered frantically. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m not sure…” You shined a light on the glass, reds, blues, and greens reflecting back at you. “There’s just a bunch of stained-glass.” He started up a flight of stairs.

“Okay, don’t go anywhere. We’ll try and find you.” You moved your light and saw a face staring back at you.

“That might be harder than you think.” The first wall of glass shattered, pieces of glass flying everywhere. You screamed.

“Y/N!” Sam said, hearing the sounds and screams from the other end. He looked at Dean with panicked eyes and they started running.

You ducked, covering your face as shards flew over your head and pierced your arms and legs. You sprinted as fast as you could out of the room and the door swung closed behind you. The ground shook and this time you braced yourself, holding out your arms to the walls as you were jerked to the side. Sam and Dean held onto the railing as the stairs moved down.

A figure flickered in front of you. A little girl, her black hair hanging down in front of her face. You stepped backward, trying to ignore the stinging wounds from the glass. She flickered again, this time appearing right in front of you, her hands gripping your arms. A searing pain shot through your body and you fought against her, punching her hard, the iron ring on your finger causing her to cry out, letting you go just long enough for you to break free.

That’s when you heard him. Sam.

“Sam!” You yelled. He sprinted towards the sound of your voice.

“Y/N!” Dean shouted back. He and Sam ran through the endless dark halls, listening to the sound of your screams. You turned to see the girl getting closer to you.

You opened another door, stepping into the night air. You looked down at the ground as you fell, a hand latching onto yours, catching you just in time. Sam held onto you while Dean shot at the ghost. Sam pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you as soon as your feet returned to the ground.

“I may have forgotten to mention the Door to Nowhere.” He chuckled breathlessly and you couldn't help but laugh. He pulled away. “Are you okay?” You nodded.

“I hate to break up the happy couple, but we don’t have time for chick flick moments.” Dean motioned for the two of you to follow him. “Come on, Research Boy, what could these all be connected to?” Sam didn’t even get the chance to think before you were surrounded by spirits, all ready for the kill. You positioned yourselves back to back to back and started firing. You cleared a path just long enough to run, Sam holding onto your hand to make sure you didn’t get separated again.

There was only one room that the ghosts seemed to be protecting. Of course, you had to go in there. With another shot from Dean, you all stumbled into the room, greeted by a jarring silence compared to the commotion of the past few hours.

“This must be Sarah Winchester’s room,” Sam noted, looking around. “That must be why they were all guarding it. If there’s anything these spirits are attached to, it’s in here.” You all started searching the room until Sam gasped. A woman appeared in front of him, her hands wrapped around his neck. Dean raised his shotgun, but he had no rounds left. The closer you looked at her, you realized that she was the woman in the picture sitting on the dresser. Sarah Winchester.

“Sam!” You cried.

“Find.... the…. Object….” He barely managed to say. You kept searching until you found a rusted and chipped gun. Sarah turned to you and let go of Sam.

“Start a fire!” You ordered and Sam and Dean obeyed, lighting a fire in a small metal bucket they had found. You tossed the gun to Sam and he threw it into the flames. Sarah started to scream and she burst into flames. You heard a chorus of other screams from throughout the house and the floor started to shake violently. You, Sam, and Dean huddled around each other as pieces of brick and wood fell around you. And finally, there was quiet. Dean was the first to break away.

“I hate Halloween!”

[spnfamilystuff]

Confidence.

Request: Can I request a dean x reader where the reader is Deans sister and she comes out as gay? I've been thinking about coming out for a while now and I need something as a confidence booster? Thank you! Btw I love your blog!

Requested by: @heyyycasssbuttt

Tagging: @bloomingskulk @milligan-writes @youtubehelpsmesurvive @damiansbeloved

Pairing: Dean x Sister!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Warning: If you’re homophobic or from this kind of crap, do not read it, you might have a brain! 

A/N: Sorry for posting this late! Was supposed to be last weekend! Sorry guys! Hope you like it, requests are open!

Words: +1K

We all get to this one special part of our teenage life where we start to know who we are, what we like, who we like. It’s not an easy phase to know who we like, if we’re into guys, girls, both, none...it’s not easy as we have to go through this alone, but when we do find out, we have to learn to accept it, to accept who we are; this should be the hardest part, but the hardest part is to tell your family, and when you’re a (your age) lesbian, and your brothers are hunters, coming out as gay isn’t easy. I see the struggle my brothers have to find love, what tells me that I will too? I have way fewer chances than them, and this is scaring me, I do not want to end up alone, I know I’m not going to grow old, but I do not want to die and never had found love, that is one regret I will never have on my death bed, no, no way that my last thought is about a love I could’ve had.

But for me to be happy and able to find love, I know I have to come out as gay to my brothers and it scares me.

I decide to get dressed up and go get breakfast. When I get to the kitchen there is already Sam, drinking coffee and reading God knows what on his computer.

Me: Mornin’.

Sam turns and looks at me.

Sam: Mornin’. How are you?

I take my cup of coffee and sit in front of Sam.

Me: Half awake. What you lookin’ at?

Sam shrugs. He’s looking for a case, a case that he doesn’t want me to get involved in it.

Me: What do you think it is? How many victims?

Sam sighs knowing that I wouldn’t give up on asking him or eventually find it out by myself.

Sam: I have no idea. In one week there have been five attacks. That thing kills people that are around a campfire in the forest or in the hills.

Dean comes in and hears half of what Sam said.

Dean: Well, what a joyful conversation in the morning, guys. Keep it up! 

I roll my eyes and look back at Sam.

Me: Give me your computer, two seconds.

I grab it and search for whatever this creature could be.

Me: It only happens in East of Tenessee, killing people around a campfire, in the forest or the hills? Hm.

You look at your coffee cup, tapping your finger on it, trying to remember.

Dean: What?

Me: I read something about it. In here, it says that victims that survived heard the monster scream before attacking them. But the police only found prints of paws of a cougar. It’s just... it reminds me something, I just can’t put my mind on it. 

You spent about ten minutes repeating it to yourself. “Forests and hills of East of Tenessee, campfire, screaming, paws of cougar...” Again and again, until Sam decided to call for Castiel.

Once Castiel arrived, Sam explained it to him and when you heard what Sam said you realized what it was, so did Castiel.

Castiel/You: It’s a Wampus Cat.

Dean: A what?

You: A Wampus Cat. Half woman, half cougar, it’s a curse. I do not know much about it, all I know is that one day some wizards were telling some sacred stories around a campfire, and she hid under a skin of a cougar, to listen to them but one wizard caught her and cursed her to be a monstrous cat, half cougar, half woman. Since this night, she is prowling in the forests and hills of east Tenessee and screaming to protest against her curse and swearing that she will get her revenge.

Dean: Great.

Sam: I guess she did.

You: I think she is just starting. I’m going to do some research about it. 

You take a notebook, and Sam’s computer and pour coffee in your cup. You start searching. 

You type “Wampus Cat” and read the first article.

“ The Wampus cat is often compared to the Ewah of Cherokee mythology, in that it was a woman who disguised herself in the skin of a cougar to spy on the men of the tribe, as they sat around the campfire with their wolf brothers, and told sacred stories on a hunting trip. When the woman was discovered, the tribe's medicine man punished her by transforming her into a half-woman, half-cat, who supposedly still haunts the forests of East Tennessee. The range of this creature has been tracked into the Carolinas as well. In folklore, it can be seen as one of a number of fearsome critters. In some sections of rural East Tennessee, the legend of the Wampus Cat takes on a more sinister tone. It is said that the Wampus Cat is a spirit of death and the earth, and when her cry is heard, it means someone is going to die and be buried within the next three days.”

You write it down and keep searching.

Sam and Dean were looking at you working.

Sam: She’s good at it.

Dean: Of course she’s good at it, she’s a Winchester. But no matter how good she is, she can get herself killed, Sam.

Sam: I know. But to be honest I rather have her hunting with us, than having her hunting alone.

Dean sighs, knowing that Sam was right.

You fall on another article, this one seems to have more details.

“They say that the Wampus cat used to be a beautiful Indian woman. The men of her tribe were always going on hunting trips, but the women had to stay home. The Indian woman secretly followed her husband one day when he went hunting with the other men. She hid herself behind a rock, clutching the hide of a mountain cat around her, and spied on the men as they sat around their campfires telling sacred stories and doing magic.According to the laws of the tribe, it was absolutely forbidden for women to hear the sacred stories and see the tribe's magic. So when the Indian woman was discovered, the medicine man punished her by binding her into the mountain cat skin she wore and then transforming her into a terrible monster - half woman and half mountain cat. Ever after she was doomed to roam the hills, howling desolately because she desires to return to her normal body.A man was hunting one night with his dogs when they both whimpered and ran off the path. At that moment, the woods were overpowered with a horrible smell like that of a wet animal that had fallen into a bog after it messed with a skunk. Then something howled on the path behind him and the man whirled around, dropping his rifle. His heart pounding with fear, the man found himself staring into the big, glowing yellow eyes of the Wampus Cat. The creature had huge fangs dripping with salvia. It looked kind of like a mountain lion, but it was walking upright like a man. Then it howled, and the man's skin nearly turned inside out in horror.With a scream of terror, the man leapt backwards and ran as fast as he could through the woods, the Wampus Cat on his heels. He fled to the home of a friend who lived nearby, and burst through the front door only a breath ahead of the creature. His friend slammed the door in the face of the Wampus Cat. Instantly, it started shuddering under the weight of the attacking monster. The man's friend grabbed his Bible and started reading aloud from the Psalms. Upon hearing the holy words, the Wampus Cat howled in frustration and then slowly abandoned its attack and went back into the woods.The man spent the rest of the night at his friend's place. When he went home at daybreak, he found his dogs huddled in the barn, shaken but still alive. The man never hunted after dark again.”

You look through the comments in case someone saw the Wampus Cat but fell on something else.

“ There has always been the tale of my Great-grandfather rushing home one night (in the 40s) out of breath with a face struck with horror. He had said he was walking along and the Wampus attacked him (in Knoxville). He said it took all his might and seemed like forever to fight the animal off. I never even bothered researching this story at all until now. I thought it was a name he had pulled out of the air to scare some people. No idea it was actual East TN folklore... “

You hum.

Sam: What did you find?

You: Someone’s great-grandfather fought the Wampus, but the comment is anonymous and from 2010. For all, we could know the grandfather is probably dead by now. Just give me some time to find more. 

Dean: Nothing on how to kill it?

You shake your head.

Sam: Maybe fire?

You: No, because fire is what actually attract it, I think that if it’s a curse...

Castiel: Only the magic that created the Wampus Cat--

You: --could kill it, or reverse the curse. 

Dean: Awesome! 

You: Still, we have the colt. 

You keep searching.

“ In Missouri they call it a Gallywampus; in Arkansas it’s the Whistling Wampus; in Appalachia it’s the just a plain old Wampus (or Wampas) cat. A half-dog, half-cat creature that can run erect or on all fours, it’s rumored to be seen just after dark or right before dawn all throughout the Appalachians. But that’s about all everyone agrees on. In non-Native American cultures it’s a howling, evil creature, with yellow eyes that can supposedly pierce the hearts and souls of those unfortunate enough to cross its path, driving them to the edge of sanity. “

You didn’t find more about, half of it all says the same about the Wampus Cat, sadly you didn’t find anything about how to kill it. You sigh loudly and put your head on the table.

Dean: Sup sis?

You look up at Dean and sigh.

You: I didn’t find anything to kill it, D. 

Dean: It’s okay, we have the colt.

You nod, putting your head back on the table.

Dean knew something was up with you, this had nothing to do with the case, he knew it but he couldn’t do anything if you didn’t want to open up to him.

Dean: Sweetheart, what’s wrong?

You look back at him.

You: Nothing, why?

Dean: Stop lying to me. I know you, ok? I know there is something wrong. Why don’t you tell me? You used to tell me when things were wrong.

You: It’s just...it’s different.

Dean: What’s different?! I’m still here for you! You’re my sister!

You: You just don’t get it, Dean! This is something I have to got through alone!

Dean storms out of the kitchen, leaving you alone. You sigh and slap your hand on the table.

You: Damn it.

You found out that it was really a Wampus Cat and only the colt could kill it. After you came back to the bunker you went straight to your bathroom taking a shower.

Sam: Okay what is up with you and Y/N?

Dean: I don’t know, I just asked her what was up with her this morning.

Sam sighs and sits down.

Sam: Dude, I told you to let her come to us when she will be ready to tell us what is wrong. She’s like you, dude! The more you push her, the less you will get from her!

You finish your shower, you dress up and go to your bed. You fall asleep instantly.

You were standing in the middle of the library watching Sam and Dean packing their things in duffle bags. You tried to move, to talk but you couldn’t. You knew somehow this is how it would’ve end, no matter what.

Dean: I can’t believe you hid this from us. You’re disgusting me.

Sam: You don’t know how much of a failure and disappointment you are.

Their words broke your heart, but their looks broke your soul. You watched them leave without being able to stop them. The sound of the door closing makes you realize they are gone. You react and run to the door but the more you ran the less you were getting to the door. You cried for Sam and Dean, but they were too far gone. Why would they want a lesbian as a sister?

You were calling out for Sam and Dean, once they heard you screaming their names they ran to your room with their guns, but once they realized you were having a nightmare, they put their guns down. 

You were in the library drinking coffee.

Dean: How are you doing?

You shrug. There is no way you would tell them. If they knew, they’d leave you. Right?

Sam: Okay I was up for the “let her tell us when she’s ready” plan but it’s getting worse. There is obviously something going on and it’s making you having nightmares, so spit it.

You mumble under your breath, looking at your cup.

Dean: What?

You sigh and look at them.

You: I’m...I...I’m g...I’m...I just can’t.

You stand up but Dean stops you.

Dean: You won’t go anywhere until you tell us what is wrong.

Sam: We’re worried, Y/N/N. Please talk to us.

You: I’m gay! I’m gay....

There was a silence until Dean broke it.

Dean: Wait, so you were having nightmares because...?

You: About you leaving me after you found out.

Sam: This ain’t news, Y/N.

You look at them shocked.

Dean: Sweetheart, you’re the one who comes to me to check out a chick!

Sam: And we see you when you watch they asses. We’re not blind.

You let a breath out, and some tears fall.

Dean: We love you, no matter what is your sexual orientation. Come here.

You hug Dean and Sam put a hand on your head.

You: I love you guys.

Sam: We love you too.

You didn’t know what you thought, your brothers stick with you after all of the mistakes you made, there is no way they would leave you for this, but you are grateful that you have such an amazing family. Sure, it’s little and broken, some of the members of it are dead, but in your line of work, death isn’t a goodbye it’s just a see you soon, and you were lucky, because, no blood, hell, heaven, gods, and demons that could come between you.

[saxxxology]

Daddy (oneshot)

In an effort to spice things up with Sam, you confess your need for him to occasionally take on a different role in your relationship. 

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Native American!Reader

WARNINGS: relationship anxiety, brief fluff, daddy!kink, oral sex (female), fingering, multiple orgasms, creampie

NOTE: Edited by @crispychrissy. Do not save or repost my work. 18+ only! This work has been a Patreon-exclusive since May 2019.

⭒ become a patron for just $3 ⭒

Things with Sam are good. Not great, not shabby… just good. 

He’s been busy working hunts back to back, which you understand, and it’s fine when he’s too tired to have sex of any kind, but when you do have sex, it’s just been… good. You’re younger than he is, nineteen to his thirty-five. You like things rough and kinky, roleplaying, biting and scratching and marking. Sam always makes you cum, thank God, but the last few months you’ve barely gone beyond vanilla. It’s like he’s bored and just isn’t into it anymore. 

And you don’t like it. It makes you nervous. 

Finally, the boys get a weekend off. Dean promptly heads out for a day and night on the town, leaving you and Sam alone at the bunker.

You find him in the kitchen around noon, poring over the daily newspaper and a cup of coffee. He smiles when you perch on the edge of the table. Before he can say anything, however, you launch into your questioning.

“Am I good enough?”

He furrows his brow. “What?”

“In bed,” you murmur, “am I good enough for you?”

“Baby,” he bites his lower lip and reaches for your hand, “what’s going on?”

“Please just answer me.” You shift to face him and fold your hands in your lap. “I know the last few months have been rough, but… I don’t know, I feel like I’m not good enough.”

He purses his lips and chews on the inside of his cheek. “Okay, um…” he looks down briefly, eyebrows pinched before he returns his gaze to you. “I feel like there could be more,” he says, “I want more. I love being with you, don’t get me wrong, but we could be better together. I got it in me, but I’ve been afraid to ask you if you can take more than what I’m giving.”

Your heart lightens just a bit, but there’s still a bit of a twinge in your gut. If you’re really open with him about what you want and how you want it, it could change everything. “I want more, too,” you say, trying your best to appear confident. 

“Great.” Sam smiles and folds his arms on the table. “Do you wanna tell me what it is?”

“It’s…” your voice trails off, and you dip your head, “it’s weird, what I’m into, can you promise that you won’t be mean about it?”

Sam nods slowly. “Promise.”

“I—” you swallow thickly, “I wanna call you… I wanna c-call you Daddy. When we’re in bed… y’know…”

A look of astonishment flits across Sam’s face. It’s only there for a second before his mouth stretches into a wide grin. 

“What?” you feel your heart sink into your stomach. “If it’s bad you can just tell me, you don’t have to—”

“Baby.” Sam pulls one of your hands into both of his. “I don’t think it’s bad, I don’t think that at all.” He stands up and moves to stand in front of you. “Is there a reason why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why you wanna call me Daddy.”

You shrug. “Call it therapeutic?”

He nods and lowers his head to kiss your forehead. “Okay. How about we order some pizza, put a movie on?”

You tip your head back and trail your fingers over the buttons on his shirt. “Sounds good to me.”

He chuckles and kisses you, slowly and tenderly. “Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“You know I love you, right?”

Your cheeks burn warm. “I love you, too.”

Three hours later, you and Sam are curled up in bed, watching the end credits to Age of Ultron. It’s the latest update to the MARVEL binge the two of you have been completing, and it feels good to have settled back into a semi-normal routine. 

Sam clicks the TV off and sets the remote on the nightstand before turning to you. You’re half naked already, down to just a flimsy crop top and the pair of pink panties that Sam loves. 

“Come here.” He pulls you into his lap, cupping your ass in both hands. You brace your palms on his chest and tip your head forward, allowing it to rest on his shoulder while he starts to touch you. His hands roam over your skin, creeping up underneath your top to pull it over your head. You let him push you up, and then his tongue drags warm and wet over your nipples. 

“You have the cutest tits,” he praises, grazing his teeth over your areolas. “So soft and sweet… my pretty baby girl…”

You shiver as the words leave his lips and rock your hips down against the bulge in his jeans. He’s getting harder by the second, and when you feel him throb you let out a girlish whimper that makes him growl with arousal.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Rub your pussy on my cock, baby, get yourself all nice and wet for me.”

You lean back, hands splayed out on his stomach as you grind your pelvis down. Sam watches, groping your breasts with an expression of complete, animalistic awe. You keep going even when he’s so hard it has to hurt when you move. 

“D-Daddy…”

Sam grunts when he hears the soft whisper leave your lips. “Yeah, baby girl?”

“Can I please cum like this?” You meet his gaze, your pace slowing.

Sam instantly understands the question; you want to have to ask permission to cum. “Yes,” he replies, the ‘s’ sound clipped as you give another swivel of your hips. “You can cum for me, baby, show me.”

He spreads his legs slightly, bare heels digging into the mattress as he holds your waist. Your thighs quiver, and you look down at him through half-closed eyes. 

“Wanna cum,” you whine, “wanna cum so bad, Daddy…”

“C’mon…” Sam smooths his hands over your thighs. “You can cum for me, baby girl, it’s okay.”

Your orgasm is stronger than any you’ve had in weeks. Your pussy clenches tight around nothing as you rub your clit against the denim of his jeans. It builds hot and wet in your belly until it explodes in a shower of heat and indescribable pleasure. 

“That’s it,” Sam watches you fall apart, head tipped forward as you desperately hump his bulge. He whispers to you until you’re shaking, spent, and slump forward onto his chest. He takes advantage of your temporary inability to move and rolls, coming to rest on top of you in the center of the bed. 

“That was beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss against your parted lips. “You ruined your cute little panties.”

You don’t stop him as he kisses down your body, not stopping until his head is level with your hips. He traces a finger over the soaked fabric, chuckling to himself as he pulls it aside to expose your bare pussy. “Oh, baby girl, you’re so wet…”

He kisses your smooth mound before lapping through your folds, performing your favorite swirl of his tongue over your clit. You whimper loudly and roll your hips, still sensitive from your orgasm not a minute before, but Sam doesn’t let you go. He holds your thighs open, fingers digging into your smooth skin as his tongue and lips torture wet, tender flesh. 

You cry out when he slides a finger inside you and holds it there, knuckle deep. Both of your hands move to hold his hair, and he groans when your nails scrape over his scalp. His eyes are closed, brow furrowed as he focuses every ounce of his being on pleasuring you.

“Yes…” you choke on your speech as Sam runs his tongue against your clit, over and over and over again. Your legs are still shaking, and you throw your head back against the covers in frustration as Sam sends waves of pleasure coursing through you without actually making you cum. “Daddy… oh, please, lemme cum…”

Sam kisses your clit before looking up at you. His lips are shiny with slick. “You wanna cum?”

“Yes,” you nod frantically, “I need to cum really bad.”

He nuzzles the inside of your thigh. “You can cum, honey, I’m not stopping you.”

It only takes a few more licks of your clit and a crook of his finger to send you into another orgasm. This one isn’t as intense, almost right off the back of your first one, but your eyes still roll back in your head as it burns through you before sputtering out. Satisfied that you’ve cum for the second time, Sam wipes his finger on the covers and leans back to pull his shirt over his head. His belt opens next, and he unzips his jeans, pushing them down far enough so he can free his cock. The cold metal buckle taps against your thigh, and you wince playfully as he leans over you. 

“Do you want me inside you?” he asks, letting his cock rub against your wet folds. “Want Daddy to stretch your tight little pussy out?”

“Yes.” You grip his shoulders, biting your lower lip. “I want your big cock in my pussy.”

“What do you say?” he asks, teasing your entrance with the swollen crown of his dick. “Magic words, baby girl.”

You swallow, trembling at the dominance Sam’s asserting over you. “Yes, please, Daddy.”

He rolls his hips sharply, his thick cock sliding into your pussy with ease. You’re used to taking him by now, but you still wince as he bottoms out. His balls press against your ass, and you revel in the sensation of him almost impossibly deep. 

“Good girl,” he says, his voice a soft husk against your ear. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you stutter, “p-please…”

Sam holds himself over you as he pulls back, waiting until just the tip of him is sunk into your cunt before pushing forward again. You close your eyes, biting down on a knuckle while he settles into a steady, passionate rhythm. 

“Lemme hear you,” he says, “lemme hear how good it feels, baby.”

He curls over you, caging your body in with his. The sudden heat and weight of him coaxes a high-pitched gasp and several “ah, ah, ah” moans from your throat. He focuses on that, keeping quiet save for the odd grunt or moan as he continues to fuck you.

You don’t work right for the orgasm this time, just settle back into your role and let Sam provide the control you’re desperate for. He keeps it steady, fucking with long drags and rolls that make your head spin. You forget how long it takes, maybe five, six minutes, before he’s pausing, leaning back to watch his cock slide in and out of your wet, sticky pussy. 

“Gimmie your leg,” he instructs breathlessly. Once you’ve lifted one leg up, he maneuvers you onto your side and rests your ankle on his shoulder. The angle changes, and Sam growls loudly when your cries and gasps grow louder. “That’s it,” he encourages, “rub your little clit for me, baby girl, make yourself cum all over Daddy’s cock.”

He quickens his pace, the loud slap of his hips against your ass filling the room. You slip a hand down between your legs and rub your middle and index fingers over your clit. Sam grunts loudly as your pussy squeezes his cock tight. 

“It feels so good,” you whisper, “Daddy, your big cock feels so good inside me…”

Sam leans over, keeping your leg on his shoulder as he kisses you. “I can tell, baby, you’re getting all messy.”

You moan against his mouth as his thrusts grow even more vigorous. He’s desperate now, bucking his hips urgently into the cradle of your body. When he gets like this you know he’s not gonna last much longer.

“Cum with me, Daddy,” you sigh, “fill my pussy up.”

Sam grits his teeth, moving your leg to his other shoulder so that you’re spread up and open for him. “Oh, baby girl,” he grunts, “I’m gonna cum so hard…”

You arch your back, moaning freely against his mouth. “I’m gonna cum, Daddy, please—” your words choke off as he replaces your hand with his, rubbing hard and fast with his thumb. His hips are beginning to stutter, and you let out a loud cry of pleasure as your third orgasm rips through you. Your vision goes foggy, and you barely discern Sam climbing to his peak with several sharp, borderline-painful thrusts that only make you gush over his dick. 

“Cum inside me,” you sob, “c’mon, Daddy, cum…”

Sam shoves forward with a loud yell, muffling the sound with a wet, sloppy kiss. He’s cumming so hard you can feel it, every individual throb of his cock as he spurts warm and thick. It’s over fast, but he shudders through the aftershocks as he pulls out, already starting to go soft. His cum flows out in a thick white line down a cheek of your ass, and he hastily grabs his shirt, tucking it underneath your hips before it can stain the sheets.

“That was…” he slumps over beside you, pulling you close. “You okay?”

“I’m good.” You sniff and bury your face in his chest. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Sam feels his blood burn hot as the word settles in his mind. “You’re welcome, baby girl.”

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[saxxxology]

one more try (drabble)

Newly mated, you and Sam are ready to expand your family.

PAIRING: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Native American!Reader

WARNINGS: smut

NOTE: Do not save or repost my work. 18+ only. Written for @emoryhemsworth​

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It’s been six months since Sam claimed you. His bite’s healed into a silvery crescent scar that sits on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, the slight raised lines sensitive to the touch whenever you bathe or brush your hair. He loves the sight of it, shining pale against the rest of your skin. 

His claim reminds him that he still has a duty to fulfill. He hasn’t given you a child yet, and with your next heat approaching, the tension’s building. He’s eager to see you full of his child. 

The days tick by and the scent of your heat fills the small house he keeps you secretly tucked away in, away from Dean, away from all the monsters and creepy-crawlies that might dare to hurt you, he finds himself unconcerned about the outside world. 

His only mission is to give you his seed and watch you grow full and round with his pup.

When the first intense, pulsing wave of your heat washes over you, he’s ready, not bothering to carry you to bed. He lays you out on the rug in front of the fireplace and strips you bare, throwing your clothes every which way until you’re both naked. 

You cry out when he slides in, your wet heat encasing him to the root as he sinks deep. He growls, one hand fisted in your hair so he can tug your head back. Your fingers scrape over his shoulders, heels digging into the backs of his thighs, and he ruts forward hard enough to make you choke on your own breath. 

“Fuck,” you whimper, “Alpha… please…”

Sam presses a heavy kiss under your jaw and growls, reveling in the way you writhe and buck underneath him, desperate for his body to give you what you want. You’re so wet and hot around him, it’s a miracle he’s holding on this long. You, on the other hand, are more than overwhelmed by the onslaught of stimulation between your legs, and Sam winces when your nails dig into his skin, body shuddering as your first orgasm comes out of nowhere. 

“Cum for me,” he pants, “keep cummin' for me, baby, just like that… gonna work you nice and open.”

Your legs hook tighter around his waist, ankles crossed to keep him close as he props himself up. His arms curl under your body, holding you in place for him as his own climax starts to build. You let a soft whimper when his knot starts to press at your entrance, and with a vicious growl and a sharp stab of his hips, it’s inside you, swelling thick as Sam lets out a loud, gasping groan, and the heat of his seed warms your belly. 

He slumps down, panting hard against the side of your neck. You hum contentedly, running fingers lazily through his hair.

“D’ya think we did it?” You turn your head to look at him. “Did we make a baby?”

Sam chuckles. “Baby won’t be made for another few days, but from this…” he reaches down and gingerly feels where he’s pressed into you, the swell of his knot tucked inside your body, “I’ll keep doing this until we know for sure.”

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[saxxxology]

Keep it Cool (oneshot)

The air conditioning in the bunker goes out, and Sam’s choice of cool clothing is nothing but a distraction to you. 

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Native American!Reader WARNINGS: smut and all the deliciousness that comes with it NOTE: This fic was originally co-written with @kittenofdoomage​. It is also 18+ only. Do not save or repost my work without my consent.

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The air conditioning in the bunker sucked. Being underground, the place usually stayed colder, enough that in the winter you had to get the heater working, but for some reason, the summer heat had infected every single room. All you could do was put on deodorant, get the fans going, and stock up on ice water.

Dean was good at staying cool, proudly displaying his glorious bowlegs as he ambled around in just a pair of boxers and a tee shirt. Sam, on the other hand, had a much more interesting alternative to staying cool.

Walking around shirtless in just a ratty pair of gray sweatpants was his way of keeping the heat off, which did absolutely nothing to help your own temperature regulation. 

You were in the kitchen, trying to fix yet another a fan you’d found in the basement and wearing nothing but a baggy tee shirt and cotton panties when Sam strolled in, those damn sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He was sweating like a pig, and you watched as he grabbed a bottle of ice water from the fridge and tilted his head back to down almost half of it in four long, deep gulps. He poured the rest over the back of his neck and shoulders, not caring as it splattered to the concrete floor.

“How in the hell can you exercise in this?” You asked, watching as the wind from the fan already on the table blew his hair back. “It’s almost ninety in here, Sam.”

“Gotta keep in shape,” he replied simply, “routine is everything.”

“Routine can go fuck itself when it’s this hot,” you returned. “You could get heatstroke.”

He shrugged and pulled the waistband of his sweats up, which did nothing as they simply sagged back down around the V in his hips. “I know my limits,” he said. “What are you up to?”

“Trying to fix this fan,” you muttered irritably, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his back flexed as he pulled a hairband from around his wrist and swept his long, coppery locks into a knot on top of his head. “Got all the dust out of it, now I just have to get it working.”

“Need help?” He ran a palm over the four-day stubble on his jaw. “I got time on my hands.”

You swallowed thickly and shook your head. The last thing you needed was Sam distracting you. “No thanks… it won’t take long.”

Sam offered a kind smile that was quickly betrayed by the twinkle in his eye. “‘Kay then. Call me if you need anything.”

An hour later and you still hadn’t got the damn thing to work. Sam wandered back into the kitchen as you—still not wearing any pants—called it names. He smirked at your indignation with the technology and leaned on the table once again, those powerful biceps now only a foot away from your face.

“You sure you don’t need help?”

The fan had you in a mood already, and Sam’s playful little smirk just rubbed you the wrong way. “Fuck you,” you mumbled, glaring at the failed project on the table.

Sam rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight, just enough that you could see the thick length of his dick hidden beneath the thin, gray fabric of his sweats. He was all sweaty and shiny and perfect; you could smell the musk seeping from every pore. 

“Well, I said I’d help,” he replied and your back went straight. “You look like you could relax a little.”

It seemed like all of the oxygen went out of the room as you turned to him, taking in the lewd smirk on his face. He was looking at you with lidded eyes, giving them the impression of total blackness and a shiver ran down your spine, pooling into your core with an unbearable heat. He’d never been like this in all the years you’d known him; the sweet, soft-eyed Sam you knew was gone within seconds, replaced by a feral, lust-filled man that was this close to fucking you silly.

You inhaled sharply, trying not to let him get the better of you. Sure, a good, dirty fuck sounded incredible, especially with a man like Sam, but the two of you were supposed to be just friends...

He shifted and you swallowed, lifting you head when he stood straight. God, he managed to make the room look smaller when he stood his full height, all flexing muscles and tanned skin.

“When do you get time to sunbathe?” you blurted out, nerves forcing your brain into the wrong gear entirely.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “That’s where you went with that?”

“Sorry.” Your cheeks burned out of pure shame as you stood up and walked to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “It’s just… you’re really tanned and it’s distracting.”

“Am I?” He looked down at his bare chest, purposefully rolling his shoulders to show off the wide, muscular expanse of his chest, and you moaned without restraint. Sam was smirking again when he looked up, eyeing you hungrily. “You’re really tense, Y/N,” he murmured, stepping a little bit closer.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Sam?” you asked, horrified at how girly and wispy your voice sounded.

Sam laughed, backing you against the table, only inches separating you. “Is it working?”

You shivered as the heat of his skin filled the space between your bodies. His scent was intoxicating, the sweet, honey-like perfume clouding every breath you took until you were literally breathing Sam in. You whined, almost stomping your foot at how infuriatingly seductive this God of a man was.

“Yeah,” you whimpered, “yeah, it is.”

His fingers grazed your cheek, and just like that you were gone. You stretched up, practically begging him to kiss you, and he obliged without hesitation. His lips were full and warm, and his stubble was delightfully scratchy. His hands promptly slid down your back to grab handfuls of your ass, and you gasped when he pulled you flush against him. The thick line of his cock pressed against your belly, held back only by the thin fabric of his sweats. His index fingers slid down between your thighs, pressing against the damp fabric covering your pussy. 

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, “could just slide right up inside you, huh?” An indiscernible sound left your mouth. Grinning wickedly, Sam took your hand, guiding it to his cock, and you squeezed through the cloth, feeling him twitch in your fingertips. “Come here, baby girl.”

You gasped as he hauled you off the floor and slung you easily over his shoulder. Long strides carried you swiftly down the hallway, reaching his room in no time at all, and the second the door was locked he dumped you on the bed, crawling on top of you and watching your thighs press together in an effort to seek relief. He took advantage of your positioning to hood his fingers in your panties, pulling them down and tossing them off the edge of the bed. You eagerly stripped off your shirt, feeling cool air from the single fan on the nightstand wash over your sweat-dotted skin, and Sam growled at the sight of your pert nipples, practically begging to be sucked on.

“Sam, please,” you whimpered, reaching for him.

“Ah ah ah,” he teased, “not yet. I want you to see what I’ve been doing while I think about you.”

You moaned when he rolled to lie on his back beside you, slowly pushing his sweats down until his cock sprang free. He was huge, the tip almost reaching his navel, and if anything, your pussy only grew wetter thinking about what he’d look like stretching your walls out.

“Fuck,” you breathed, reaching out to try and touch him. Sam took your hand and guided it down between your own legs. 

“If you need to touch something, touch yourself,” he directed with a dark smirk. “Hands off until I say so.”

You obeyed, watching him grip the base of his dick in one hand while massaging the shaft with the other, long up-and-down strokes causing the muscles in his forearm to flex deliciously. He let out a sharp huff and groaned, his lips parted as his back arched off the bed. “Shit,” he panted, turning his head to kiss you, “touch yourself, baby, show me how needy you are.”

Again, you obeyed, rolling your clit under your middle and index fingers as Sam stroked himself. A bread of clear precum dripped from his slit, falling in a thin, clear strand down to land on the smooth skin of his lower belly. He pumped himself harder, spreading his legs and bending his knees so he could thrust up into his grip.

“I bet your pussy’s better than this,” he muttered, chest heaving with exertion, “look at what you do to me, baby, you’re such a fuckin’ turn-on.”

You moaned louder, keeping your fingers working on your clit as Sam bucked his hips up. “Sam…”

“Lemme taste you,” he said breathlessly, reaching for your hand and pulling it from between your legs. He greedily sucked your fingers between his lips and sighed, sliding his tongue across the slick pads of your fingers, moaning at the taste. “God,” he gasped once he’d gotten as much as he could, “come here.”

Sam hauled you into his lap, arranging your legs on either side of his hips. His cock pressed at your entrance, and without even a consideration of birth control, you rolled your hips, letting the thick, warm head of him slide inside. 

A gutteral shout left his lips, and you felt him throb excitedly as you sank down even more. Sam pressed his shaking fingers into your waist, holding you as you started to ride… or tried to. You’d never ridden anyone so long, so thick, and you found that it was more difficult to keep him inside you than you thought as your inner muscles clenched and pushed around him. He made it easier by holding his cock at your entrance as you adjusted, your arousal aiding you as you slid down even more until you could practically feel him in your belly, but even then, he was just so big.

“Thatta girl,” he urged, staring up at you. His bun had come partially undone, and strands of hair were stick to his forehead and neck, the combination of that with his scruff utterly mouthwatering. He craned his neck up, wrapping his lips around one pert little nipple, and you cried out as his teeth scraped the soft flesh of your breast.

“Sam, I can’t,” you shook your head, inhaling sharply when he throbbed again, “you’re too big, you need to—”

Your words choked off into a loud scream as Sam wrapped his arms around you, pulled you down until he was crushing you against his chest, and started thrusting madly into you. The thick, heavy heat of him repeatedly punching into your cunt was more than you could handle, and your next breath was ragged with pleasure. Sam held you tightly as you writhed against him, his own growls and grunts matching yours in volume and intensity.

“That’s it,” he snarled, “that’s it, baby, take it all.”

He rolled, pushing you onto your back and holding himself over you. The angle of his cock changed, and you felt him slam into your sweet spot. Tears bloomed in your eyes, and Sam only chuckled between breathy groans as you held onto him for dear life.

“S-Sam,” you stammered, “fuck, I can’t take it—”

“Yeah, you can.” He pressed a sloppy, scratchy kiss to the side of your neck and tugged your hair, exposing your throat for him to lick and suck at.

The next cry of his name turned into a rough sob, and when his teeth caught the soft skin under your chin, you almost lost control. Sam only thrust faster, pressing his knees into the mattress in order to shove his entire weight forward. Your bodies were coated with sweat, and as a rush of heat bloomed between your thighs, you realized that he was making you squirt. He felt the rush of liquid, the sudden, frantic spasming of your pussy, and his forearm came up, landing on the mattress over your shoulder and caging you in underneath him. 

“God, that’s fuckin’ nice,” he panted, staring down at you as his bony hips continued to slap against yours, “always thought you’d be a cute squirter.”

You shuddered and arched up, your breasts and stomach rubbing against Sam’s hot, firm skin. Your nails dug into his arms, and you cried out again when he gave another sharp thrust, forcing more slick to gush from your wrecked pussy.

“Yeah, look at that,” Sam nibbled at your jaw and resumed his brutal, animalistic pace, not caring as you clawed at his back and clenched your thighs around his waist. “Such a needy little cunt.”

You whimpered when he reached up to grab the headboard, his cock now impossibly deep inside you as he used the heavy wood as leverage. “Sam, p-please—”

“Please what?” He growled into your ear and practically crushed you beneath him, using his entire body to hold you down while he fucked you. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

You choked on your next words as he shoved his cock in deep and held himself there. “I n-need to come…”

Sam smirked down at you, watching as your eyes rolled back in your head. He was so deep inside you he could feel your cervix against the tip of his cock. “Oh, baby, you don’t need to ask permission.”

He growled into your ear, the primal sound sending a bolt of arousal straight down to your core. His hips jerked as he steadily worked himself back to his rhythm, and you held onto his arms, your vision going white.

“Gonna come,” you gasped, “gonna come, Sam…”

Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your orgasm slammed into you, only made more intense by the second as Sam twisted his hips, grinding his body into yours so perfectly you felt like you were melting around him. You might as well have been; the room was already sweltering.

You were barely able to think straight as you came down from your climax. Sam was grunting like an animal, his hips bucking furiously as his cock swelled, throbbed, and poured into you. His cum dripped around the edges of his cock, sliding down the curve of your ass to pool underneath you. 

No man you’d ever been with had come that much.

Finally, he fell away with a groan, his cock slipping from your folds. You felt the warm rush of his cum inside you and moaned at the feeling of it dripping out. Sam’s chest was heaving with exertion, and you heard him clear his throat.

“You okay?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.”

“Good.” He swallowed. “So… that happened.”

You laughed at his sudden awkwardness. “It did. It was good.”

He looked at you. “It was?”

“You made me squirt,” you said, blushing. “I made a mess.”

“Uh, more like we made a mess,” Sam corrected you, rolling onto his side and looking down at the mess between your legs. “I’m gonna need new sheets.”

You giggled and ran your fingers over the scruff on his jaw. “And I’m gonna need an ice bath.”

Sam chuckled and trailed his lips over your jaw. “I might join you on that one.”

You were just about to deepen the kiss when a fist pounded on the door. In the minutes of your frantic coupling, you’d forgotten about the other inhabitant of the bunker. 

“If you don’t mind,” Dean called grumpily, “you could keep it down next time!”

“Sorry!” You called back, grinning nevertheless as Sam slid an arm around your waist and pulled you close. 

“You’re not sorry at all,” he teased, nuzzling your jaw with the tip of his perfect, pointy nose.

You shook your head and laughed as he kissed your neck. “Nope. Not one bit.”

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[saxxxology]

What’s On Patreon - May 2021

SERIES

Once Upon A Time - 4

Once Upon A Time - 5

Once Upon A Time - 6

Once Upon A Time - 7

ONESHOTS (exclusive)

Wild, Wild West - Cowboy!Sam x Native American!Reader

Behind Closed Doors - Alpha!Sam x Omega!Demon!Reader

Long Awaited - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Alpha, Daddy - AlphaSam Winchester x Delta!Reader

Troubled Man - Bucky Barnes x Reader

NSFW DRABBLES (exclusive)

Once in a While - Sam Winchester x reader (dialogue)

Lips & Kisses - Bucky Barnes x Reader (lips)

Go Loud, Go Hard - Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader (loud)

Urges - Sam Winchester x reader (no prompt given)

Lace - Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader (lingiere)

For Marriage - Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader (dialogue)

FLUFF DRABBLES (exclusive)

All My Heart - Sam Winchester x reader (fluff + heat)

COMING JUNE 2021

SERIES

Chapter 8 - "Once Upon a Time"

Chapter 9 - "Once Upon a Time"

Chapter 10 - "Once Upon a Time"

Chapter 11 -  "Once Upon a Time"

ONESHOTS (exclusive - more will be added as commissions come in)

Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader - Ada

Bucky Barnes x Reader - Amanda A

Cowboy!Sam Winchester x Reader - Bel

Cowboy!Sam Winchester x Reader - Kickingitwithkirk

Drabbles (exclusive - more will be added as commissions come in)

Sam Winchester x Reader - Venus

Cowboy!Sam Winchester x Reader - Fangirlextraordinaire

Bucky Barnes x Reader - Gina S

Bucky Barnes x Reader - Nicole G

Cowboy!Sam Winchester x Reader - Emory P

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[saxxxology]

“In Another World”

Sam Winchester is the rich, spoiled, trust-fund son of John Winchester and heir to the global monster-hunting company known as HunterCorp. You’re a hunter dabbling in the business of monster-killing while also doing your best to navigate the relationship with your boyfriend and keep up with Winchester-level appearances.

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Native American!Reader (HunterCorp!AU)

CHAPTER COUNT 3+

NOTE: Edited by @kittenofdoomage​. Do not save or repost my work without my consent. The reader is indigenous from her background and cultural perspectives, but physical descriptions are left open as a some natives do not have stereotypical features. The summary of this series is intentionally vague as the plot is ever-evolving and I don’t have a clear endgame in mind.

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

⭒ Chapter 3

Chapter 4

more to come...