#Bev's Milestone Challenge

[news365timesindia]

[ad_1] Amrut’s Expedition launch marks a historic first for India’s alco-bev industry, as Amrut proudly unveils the oldest single malt ever produced in the country-a true masterpiece sculpted by time, patience, and masterful craftsmanship. This extraordinary expression has undergone an unprecedented 15-year maturation period, a feat never witnessed in Indian single malt-making. It first spent eight years in a specially sourced Sherry cask from Europe, cultivating deep, opulent flavors, before transitioning to an ex-Bourbon cask from the United States for an additional seven years, further refining its complexity and depth. With only 75 bottles ever crafted, this release is more than just a single malt-it is a tribute to Amrut’s relentless pursuit of perfection and a defining milestone in India’s single malt heritage. A senior food and single malt critic who has sampled majority of Indian Single Malt expression and has covered the topic extensively critiqued that the “Indian Single Malt category can be broadly classified into two : Amrut and Amrut Inspired” rightfully touting the pioneer tag.    Amrut launches India's first oldest and the rarest single malt whisky   At first glance, the Expedition packaging exudes the grandeur of a royal heirloom, a treasure reserved for the modern-day monarchs. Crafted to mirror the rarity and grandeur of the single malt within, the packaging of Amrut Expedition stands as a true marvel of design and engineering.  Merging metal and wood seamlessly was an intricate challenge-one that took six months of relentless innovation and five prototypes to perfect with designers working round the clock meticulously bringing the outer case to life.  Each box is handcrafted and painted, housing individually engraved and numbered bottles, making every unit a unique collector’s piece. The bottle features a distinctive diamond-cut design, adorned with intricate gold engravings that form an elegant bespoke pattern, and houses the precious liquid as it undergoes a voyage to meet its rightful owner. Adding to its exclusivity, a regal silver peg measure, handcrafted by a skilled Bangalore silversmith, accompanies each bottle. Ensuring authenticity, every bottle is embedded with an NFC tag and a bespoke authentication card, narrating the story behind this historic release. A testament to Amrut’s uncompromising commitment to excellence, Expedition is not just India’s oldest single malt-it is also the most exquisitely packaged single malt the country has ever seen. The global launch of Amrut Expedition is a momentous occasion, spanning key markets across India, the USA, the UK, Europe, Dubai, Singapore, and Australia. Amrut loyalists from across the globe have flown in to witness this historic unveiling, underscoring the brand’s worldwide admiration. With only 75 bottles ever produced, this extraordinary release has already cemented its status as a coveted collector’s item-one that Amrut enthusiasts across the globe are eager to acquire. Expedition’s price tag of over USD 12,000 echoes a twist of destiny moment, as Indian manufacturers were once shunned to be a home of economical and unsophisticated offerings.  A single malt of this caliber is not just an indulgence; it is an investment in history, offering a once-in-a-lifetime tasting experience, an heirloom to be passed onto to future generations.    The launch of Amrut Expedition is more than just a historic single malt release-it is a tribute to 75 years of Amrut’s pioneering journey, a voyage that has been nothing short of an expedition in itself. At the heart of this legacy stands Mr. Neelkanth Rao Jagdale, Chairman and Managing Director of Amrut, fondly known as the Father of Indian Single Malt. His unwavering vision, relentless pursuit of excellence, and commitment to putting India on the global single malt map have made this moment possible. This exceptional release is a fitting homage to his contributions,

celebrating not just India’s oldest single malt but also the remarkable journey of Amrut over the decades-a journey that began with the foresight and entrepreneurial spirit of its founder, Mr. JN Radha Krishna Rao Jagdale, whose pioneering foundation laid the groundwork for Amrut’s rise as a global icon.   Mr Rakshit N Jagdale (MD – Amrut Distilleries) comments, “Amrut Expedition is more than just a single malt-it is a celebration of our 75-year journey, a testament to our relentless pursuit of excellence started by grandfather, Mr JN RadhaKrishna Rao Jagdale. Aged for 15 years across two exceptional casks, every drop tells a story of heritage and craftsmanship. With only 75 bottles available worldwide, it is a true collector’s piece crafted to near perfection. This launch is also a tribute to my father, Late Mr. Neelkanth Rao Jagdale, whose vision and pioneering spirit put India on the global single malt map. Seeing Amrut reach this milestone is an emotional and proud moment for us. Expedition is not just a single malt-it is history in a bottle."   Tasting Notes  Colour: Cola Nose: It is Sherried truffle as the first impression and leading to a very delicate nose with a dose of cane molasses. It is fruity with an alter ego of sherbet complemented with a dose of vanilla pod sitting on the top. It is so velvety and vibrant at 62.8% abv and creates a confusing wood aroma of sandalwood and then the subtle oak is dancing in the background.  Taste: It is chocolate coated sherry and the mid-palate is so delicate and silky. Then there is a sharp contrast of cracked black pepper for a few seconds and the bitter coca emerges to put that off with a marvellous dose of vanilla and dried fruits. It is spectacularly soft and velvety with a layered note of fruit marmalade. The third layer is of subtle oak tone with a bitter cocoa note and is refreshing!  Finish: It is salivating beneath the tongue and with a classic bitter cocoa finish. !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments); if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window,document,'script', 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '311356416665414'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); [ad_2] Source link

[news365times]

[ad_1] Amrut’s Expedition launch marks a historic first for India’s alco-bev industry, as Amrut proudly unveils the oldest single malt ever produced in the country-a true masterpiece sculpted by time, patience, and masterful craftsmanship. This extraordinary expression has undergone an unprecedented 15-year maturation period, a feat never witnessed in Indian single malt-making. It first spent eight years in a specially sourced Sherry cask from Europe, cultivating deep, opulent flavors, before transitioning to an ex-Bourbon cask from the United States for an additional seven years, further refining its complexity and depth. With only 75 bottles ever crafted, this release is more than just a single malt-it is a tribute to Amrut’s relentless pursuit of perfection and a defining milestone in India’s single malt heritage. A senior food and single malt critic who has sampled majority of Indian Single Malt expression and has covered the topic extensively critiqued that the “Indian Single Malt category can be broadly classified into two : Amrut and Amrut Inspired” rightfully touting the pioneer tag.    Amrut launches India's first oldest and the rarest single malt whisky   At first glance, the Expedition packaging exudes the grandeur of a royal heirloom, a treasure reserved for the modern-day monarchs. Crafted to mirror the rarity and grandeur of the single malt within, the packaging of Amrut Expedition stands as a true marvel of design and engineering.  Merging metal and wood seamlessly was an intricate challenge-one that took six months of relentless innovation and five prototypes to perfect with designers working round the clock meticulously bringing the outer case to life.  Each box is handcrafted and painted, housing individually engraved and numbered bottles, making every unit a unique collector’s piece. The bottle features a distinctive diamond-cut design, adorned with intricate gold engravings that form an elegant bespoke pattern, and houses the precious liquid as it undergoes a voyage to meet its rightful owner. Adding to its exclusivity, a regal silver peg measure, handcrafted by a skilled Bangalore silversmith, accompanies each bottle. Ensuring authenticity, every bottle is embedded with an NFC tag and a bespoke authentication card, narrating the story behind this historic release. A testament to Amrut’s uncompromising commitment to excellence, Expedition is not just India’s oldest single malt-it is also the most exquisitely packaged single malt the country has ever seen. The global launch of Amrut Expedition is a momentous occasion, spanning key markets across India, the USA, the UK, Europe, Dubai, Singapore, and Australia. Amrut loyalists from across the globe have flown in to witness this historic unveiling, underscoring the brand’s worldwide admiration. With only 75 bottles ever produced, this extraordinary release has already cemented its status as a coveted collector’s item-one that Amrut enthusiasts across the globe are eager to acquire. Expedition’s price tag of over USD 12,000 echoes a twist of destiny moment, as Indian manufacturers were once shunned to be a home of economical and unsophisticated offerings.  A single malt of this caliber is not just an indulgence; it is an investment in history, offering a once-in-a-lifetime tasting experience, an heirloom to be passed onto to future generations.    The launch of Amrut Expedition is more than just a historic single malt release-it is a tribute to 75 years of Amrut’s pioneering journey, a voyage that has been nothing short of an expedition in itself. At the heart of this legacy stands Mr. Neelkanth Rao Jagdale, Chairman and Managing Director of Amrut, fondly known as the Father of Indian Single Malt. His unwavering vision, relentless pursuit of excellence, and commitment to putting India on the global single malt map have made this moment possible. This exceptional release is a fitting homage to his contributions,

celebrating not just India’s oldest single malt but also the remarkable journey of Amrut over the decades-a journey that began with the foresight and entrepreneurial spirit of its founder, Mr. JN Radha Krishna Rao Jagdale, whose pioneering foundation laid the groundwork for Amrut’s rise as a global icon.   Mr Rakshit N Jagdale (MD – Amrut Distilleries) comments, “Amrut Expedition is more than just a single malt-it is a celebration of our 75-year journey, a testament to our relentless pursuit of excellence started by grandfather, Mr JN RadhaKrishna Rao Jagdale. Aged for 15 years across two exceptional casks, every drop tells a story of heritage and craftsmanship. With only 75 bottles available worldwide, it is a true collector’s piece crafted to near perfection. This launch is also a tribute to my father, Late Mr. Neelkanth Rao Jagdale, whose vision and pioneering spirit put India on the global single malt map. Seeing Amrut reach this milestone is an emotional and proud moment for us. Expedition is not just a single malt-it is history in a bottle."   Tasting Notes  Colour: Cola Nose: It is Sherried truffle as the first impression and leading to a very delicate nose with a dose of cane molasses. It is fruity with an alter ego of sherbet complemented with a dose of vanilla pod sitting on the top. It is so velvety and vibrant at 62.8% abv and creates a confusing wood aroma of sandalwood and then the subtle oak is dancing in the background.  Taste: It is chocolate coated sherry and the mid-palate is so delicate and silky. Then there is a sharp contrast of cracked black pepper for a few seconds and the bitter coca emerges to put that off with a marvellous dose of vanilla and dried fruits. It is spectacularly soft and velvety with a layered note of fruit marmalade. The third layer is of subtle oak tone with a bitter cocoa note and is refreshing!  Finish: It is salivating beneath the tongue and with a classic bitter cocoa finish. !function(f,b,e,v,n,t,s) if(f.fbq)return;n=f.fbq=function()n.callMethod? n.callMethod.apply(n,arguments):n.queue.push(arguments); if(!f._fbq)f._fbq=n;n.push=n;n.loaded=!0;n.version='2.0'; n.queue=[];t=b.createElement(e);t.async=!0; t.src=v;s=b.getElementsByTagName(e)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(t,s)(window,document,'script', 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '311356416665414'); fbq('track', 'PageView'); [ad_2] Source link

[lalaryneee]

"Shaping Dreams with Bev and Ghia"

Meet Bev, a mom who has seen it all when it comes to raising her child through the twists and turns of middle and late childhood. From the early days of kindergarten, when little hands were still clinging to hers, to the moments of independence that came too soon, Bev’s journey has been filled with both challenges and joys. As she watched her child grow from a curious toddler into a bright and adventurous kid with her own dreams and ideas. As Bev tells her story, you can hear the pride in her voice as she recalls each milestone like first school friends, the ups and downs of school projects, and discovering new hobbies. With every new stage, Bev found herself growing along with her child, learning as much from the experience as she was teaching. Through it all, Bev has learned that parenting is not about perfection, but it is about being there, guiding, and loving every step of the way.

During middle and late childhood, Bev noticed several changes in her daughter's physical abilities and overall development. Although her daughter was not particularly tall compared to her peers, she often stood out as the first in line. Initially, Ghia loved to eat, especially when she was mostly at home with limited interaction with other kids. However, once she was exposed to a wider variety of foods, she became a picky eater, favoring processed snacks like junk food, gummy bears, and sweets.

Bev also observed changes in her daughter’s dental health, recalling how Ghia had a dental filling at age four and had a broken tooth removed at age six. Additionally, she began to develop body odor, likely due to her energetic and playful nature. Teachers often mentioned Ghia’s active behavior in class, noting that she was always moving around and never seemed to tire, enjoying playtime with all her classmates, regardless of gender.

In terms of sports, while Ghia expressed interest in various activities, she had not shown a strong passion for any specific sport until recently, when she expressed a desire to try soccer, hoping to become a soccer player. Another significant change was her growing awareness of her body, although she mentioned her "boobs" getting bigger, they were not very visible yet. Bev had instilled the importance of privacy and body boundaries early on, teaching Ghia that no one should touch or see her private body parts, not even family members. She also encouraged Ghia to avoid sitting on the laps of boys, following her guidance about appropriate behavior.

Bev was proud to see her daughter becoming more independent, taking care of personal hygiene, bathing herself, and choosing her clothes. This independence and attention to appearance were likely influenced by her surroundings, particularly her teenage sister. While Bev appreciated her daughter’s self-sufficiency, she wished Ghia could learn household chores like washing dishes or cooking rice, which some kids her age already did. Nevertheless, she felt confident in Ghia's growth and happy to see her taking steps toward independence.

Bev also noticed a significant improvement in Ghia's thinking, problem-solving, and school performance. From a young age, she encouraged Ghia with positive reinforcement, like personal medals for her school efforts, helping to build her confidence. Even when Ghia did not win competitions like spelling bees or quiz bees, she proudly declared herself "the best among the rest" or "the smartest." This self-assuredness was evident when Ghia ranked first in second grade,she walked across the stage with pride. During events like "Buwan ng Wika," she was so confident that she posed as if she would win the best-dressed competition, and indeed, she did.

While proud of her daughter's self-assurance, Bev sometimes worried about how Ghia might react when exposed to children who are smarter or in situations where she might feel uncomfortable. They do not pressure her to be an achiever, but Bev knows the importance of balancing confidence with humility, emphasizing that it all comes down to how a child is raised.

One challenge Ghia faced with schoolwork was related to family structure. Having been raised without a father, Ghia had been conditioned to understand that she did not have one. So, when activities like creating a family tree came up, she would automatically mark an X for her father. In kindergarten, this was not an issue, as faculty were aware of their situation. However, as Ghia entered grade school, teachers often asked her questions like, “Why don’t you have a father?” or “How were you born if you don’t have a father?” Ghia would explain that she did not grow up with a father and that her uncles and grandfather filled that role in her life. While Bev felt Ghia was fine without a father, these external questions sometimes triggered uncomfortable situations for her daughter. Despite this, Ghia handled the questions maturely, but it was a challenge they both had to deal with.

Bev takes immense pride in her daughter's cognitive growth, especially when Ghia receives awards that reflect her own hard work and determination. She believes her daughter’s achievements are a result of Ghia's effort and dedication. At church, for example, others are often amazed at how well Ghia can read the scriptures without stuttering, even at a young age. Such moments, where Ghia's skills and confidence shine, make Bev feel truly proud.

As Ghia grew older and was exposed to various environments, Bev noticed a significant improvement in her daughter's relationships with others. When Ghia was younger and mostly around family, she was more reserved. However, as she interacted with more people, she became adventurous and less shy. This exposure to the outside world played a crucial role in Ghia’s social development.

Bev is also aware of how much children mirror what they see on television or phones, which can have both positive and negative influences. Because of this, she emphasizes the importance of parental guidance, ensuring her daughter stays on the right path while building healthy relationships with friends and family. One of the most rewarding aspects for Bev is witnessing how others recognize Ghia as a unique child with many capabilities. Bev feels proud when people compliment and appreciate Ghia, and she finds joy in seeing her daughter navigate social situations confidently, even with adults. What amazes Bev most is how Ghia does not feel intimidated, possibly because she sees everyone as a potential friend. This perspective makes Bev feel blessed and grateful.

As Bev reflects on Ghia's journey through middle and late childhood, she feels an overwhelming sense of gratitude and pride. Watching her daughter embrace independence, tackle challenges, and thrive in social settings has been a rewarding experience. Each milestone, from learning to read without hesitation, has reaffirmed Bev's belief in Ghia's potential. Despite the challenges they faced, including questions about their family, Ghia’s resilience and confidence have shone through brightly. Bev recognizes that parenting is not just about guiding her daughter, it is about celebrating her growth and encouraging her to chase her dreams. With each passing day, their bond deepens, creating a foundation of love and support that Ghia will carry into her future. As they start on new adventures together, Bev knows that Ghia is not just a reflection of her care but a remarkable individual ready to take on the world, and that fills her heart with hope for what lies ahead.

[martin-cambell]

India's Electric Vehicle Market Racing Towards a $37.70 Billion Milestone by 2028

India, the world's third-largest automotive market, is on the verge of a monumental shift towards electric mobility, spurred by the government's ambitious target of achieving a 30% penetration of electric vehicles (EVs) among all vehicles sold by 2030. This transformation is not only reshaping the automotive landscape but also paving the way for a sustainable and eco-conscious future.

The Indian EV market is witnessing rapid evolution, largely driven by state subsidies and a concerted push for battery electric vehicles (BEVs). BEVs are emerging as the largest and fastest-growing segment, offering an eco-friendly alternative to traditional internal combustion engines. Government incentives such as the Faster Adoption and Manufacturing of (Hybrid &) Electric Vehicles (FAME) scheme, coupled with tax advantages, are making sustainable choices more affordable and accessible to consumers.

Commercial vehicles, in particular, are leading the charge in India's electric vehicle adoption, driven by a growing demand for sustainable transportation solutions. However, challenges remain, including the availability of commercial EV models and the need for a robust supply chain for EV components within the country.

The industry landscape is characterized by significant developments, with companies like Tata Motors, MG, Mahindra, Citroen, BYD, Hyundai-Kia, Maruti Suzuki, and Tesla making strides in the Indian market. Tata Motors, in particular, has captured a significant market share with popular models like Tiago, Nexon, and Tigor, while Hyundai-Kia's Ioniq 5 and Kia EV6 have propelled them into the spotlight.

Looking ahead, the Indian EV market is poised for continued growth, with projections indicating over 300,000 EV units by 2025, representing a remarkable compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 59%. As industry players invest in innovation and consumers increasingly embrace electric mobility, the future of transportation in India is being rewritten towards a more sustainable and electrified horizon.

To read more, click here.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Characters: Gabe x Reader

Summary: Gabriel is many things but what happens when he comes across something he has never experienced before?

Word Count:  1441 words

Prompt: Crazy Little Thing Called Love - Queen

A/N: This is my humble offering to @chaos-and-the-calm67 and her milestone challenge.  Thank you so much for giving me this song which I LOVE!

You and Gabriel had been hooking up on occasion for well over six months now and that’s all it was.  If either of you had an itch you needed to scratch you helped each other out, no big deal. The arrangement worked really well right up until it didn’t.  

It had started out innocent enough.  Gabe had been spending more time just hanging out with you recently, something that had not gone unnoticed by your friends, and had joined you and the rest of Team Free Will for a movie night.  “Cas, you can’t be serious.”  Dean grumbled as the angel held up his choice for the evening.  

“It has good reviews Dean.  It is my turn to choose and this is my choice.”  The innocence of the angel still made you smile and you glared at Sam and Dean, letting them know you would step in and defend Cas on this one. It wasn’t often he got to choose and Two Weeks Notice wasn’t that terrible.  Corny, yes, predictable, hell yeah but one chick flick wasn’t going to kill them.  So, there you all were, frowning at the screen as Hugh Grant carried Sandra Bullock over his shoulder through a traffic jam.  Excusing yourself for a comfort break the boys took advantage of your absence to perform their own commentary.

“Are we seriously supposed to believe these two love each other?” Gabe scoffed, pulling a lollipop out of his pocket.

“I don’t think they have realised it yet but yes, they do little things for each other.” Cas was still frowning and watching the movie intently, trying to understand the interactions.

“And that’s love is it?” The archangel rolled his eyes.  He always thought that L.O.V.E. was all about the big bold gestures. He figured that when he decided to give it a go he would be great at it, big and bold were definitely his wheel house.

“For two guys who have been around you seriously don’t understand women.” Dean sighed taking a sip of his beer and pretending not to be enjoying the movie.

“The little things matter.” Sam nodded, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Like when Gabriel…” Cas began only to be interrupted by Dean spitting his beer out and chocking out,

“Cas!”

“Whoa, what?  Like when I what?” Gabe looked at them all suspiciously, unsure where this was heading.

“Nothing. When you nothing.” Dean glared at Castiel who tilted his head and looked confused.

“You just…”

“Sammy.” Dean warned.  There was no way he wanted to be getting into all this, he just wanted to enjoy the stupid chick flick.

“Come on, you telling me he hasn’t realised?” Sam defended, gesturing towards Gabriel who was becoming increasingly irritated at being the only one out of the loop.

“She hasn’t so why would he?” Dean reasoned and Sam sighed, knowing his brother was probably right.

“Hasn’t realised what?” Gabe stood up and looked at Dean challengingly.  Oh he was gonna make Winchesters life hell if he didn’t spill what he knew.  In fact, he might just make it hell for kicks.

“That you’re in love with her.” Cas stated matter-of-factly as he watched the screen. Dean sighed and rolled his eyes and Sam chuckled to himself, shaking his head.  Gabriel, however, was frozen.

That was the moment right then, like a subtle shift in the world that meant he was permanently off kilter.  He had always laughed, somewhat condescendingly, at the way this ‘love’ made fools of people and now here he was.  Could it really be true that he was… no, no that would be ridiculous.  You were a convenience.  He frowned at that thought, you were so much more than a convenience.  You made his day better.  Not just the sex either, there had been times when he had dropped by just to watch you sleep after a trying day.  You always looked so peaceful and that soothed him.  But love?  That couldn’t be what he felt.

For three months the beautiful mess of an ethereal being avoided seeing you. Convinced that Cas had been wrong, that Dean and Sam were seeing things that weren’t there.  He filled his time with treats of course and you never even crossed his mind.  He certainly didn’t think of you when he was in bed with that girl who had eyes a very similar shade to yours only they were missing that light, that spark yours had. You didn’t cross his mind when he had that girl with an ass quite like yours bent over a table.  He definitely wasn’t thinking about you when his fingers were tangled in the hair of that girl who had kinda similar hair to yours as she sucked his cock.  To be honest he had given up denying he was thinking about you by the time he was screwing some other random girl, who reminded his of you in a million little ways but was just a pale imitation of you, against the wall of some motel room. He missed you.  Not just the little noises you made when he did that thing you both liked but he missed your laugh, the way you would look at him, amusement dancing in your eyes.  You made him feel invincible and vulnerable at the same time.  Even thinking about you made his stomach churn in a way that was familiar and strange all at once.  The way you could make him feel so many opposing emotions had his head spinning and he had to admit he kinda liked it.  Enough was enough.  He needed to

He could do this. Hell, he had done far more challenging things that talk to a girl.  It wasn’t like he hadn’t talked to you before, done quite a lot more than talk, this would be a cake walk, but then the course of true love never did run smooth.

Propping up the end of the bar his eyes scanned the room and landed upon the dance floor.  Of course you would be there, surrounded by potential suitors no less.  Watching your hips gyrating to the beat made his mouth dry and his trousers just a little tighter.  You didn’t even know he was there and yet you got him so hot and helpless.  He hated that.  Hated not being in control.  You were driving him crazy and it wasn’t like you even cared.  Irrational anger began to bubble deep inside him as he stood on the sidelines, observing your interactions with the men who were nothing, inconsequential sacks of meat.  You belonged to him.  Gabriel could eviscerate these nonentities with the snap of his fingers, show you just how powerful and dangerous he could be.  

His mind seethed, shaping such fantasies that any form of reason was quashed in the heat of their path.  He was a being that had existed for millennia and in that time he had seen so much damage done by lust, want, desire, this so-called love. When emotions took over then truth and reason were strangers to each other.  The red mist in his mind dissipated just enough for him to realise you were headed his way.  Pretending he hadn’t just been glaring in your direction he pulled an interestingly colourful cocktail out of thin air and twirled the purple paper umbrella sticking out the top of the glass.  He couldn’t think straight.  Definitely shouldn’t be making any grand declarations in this state.  Shaking his head he tried to be cool, relax.  “Hey stranger.” Just the sound of your voice made him want to sigh but he caught himself.

“Hey sugar.  Enjoying yourself?”

Crashing through the door of the motel room, lips locked as your tongues wrestled for dominance of the kiss.  Hands all over each other, pulling at clothing.  His foot kicked the door shut and you began to fumble with the buttons of his blue shirt when he pulled back, his hands coming to rest on yours preventing you from continuing.  Looking up at him questioningly he smiled back softly.  There was no way he could do this without letting you know how he really felt and there was no denying that this was the L word.  “I just… you… to me, you are all the world.”  He shuffled his feet a little awkwardly and opened his mouth to say more only to be interrupted.

“You going all chick flick on me angel?” you raised an eyebrow as you failed to hide a smirk.

“No.” he huffed and you grabbed hold of his shirt and pulled him back towards you.

“I love you too.  Now take your clothes off.”

Tag: @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @nea90sweetie@knittingknerdy@feelmyroarrrr @vintagevalentinexx@goody2shoessmut @cojootromuelle@palaiasaurus64@littleblue5mcdork @littlenerdgirl16 @thewhiterabbit42 @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @sumara62 @captainemwinchester

[growningupgeek]

Eighteen and Life

Characters-Sam, Dean, Claire, Castiel

Word Count-2422

Pairing-None

Warnings-Character death, a little angst and a bit of fluff.

Italics are memories 

A/N- Written for @chaos-and-the-calm67 Milestone Challenge.  I chose Skid Row’s Eighteen and Life because it’s one of my faves and they opened for Bon Jovi the first time I saw them.  I knew I wanted to write a ghost story, an easy salt and burn for the boys featuring Dean for a change.  I’m not going to apologize in the least for what happened and will be awaiting the mob with it’s pitchforks and torches. Many thanks to @getyourrocksalt for doing the beta on this.

Eighteen and life you’ve got/Eighteen and life you know/Your crime is time and it’s eighteen and life to go.

            Dean felt the bullet rip through his chest before he even heard the gunshot.  His ears were full of Sam’s voice screaming his name from somewhere to behind him where his brother always was.  There was no pain, he just felt numb as his legs gave out and he fell to the floor, wondering how he could have been so stupid.

              He was four years old.

Dad shoved a blanket wrapped bundle into his arms and told him to run.  Moving as fast as his legs could carry them, Dean went down the stairs away from the heat and the flames in Sammy’s room.  Once out the front door he headed for the only safe place he could think of, his dad’s car.  He sank down against the front tire facing the house, hoping with all his heart that his mom and dad would make it out.  Red lit the night as firetrucks and police cars filled the street.  Eventually, Dad found them, lifting the two boys onto the trunk of the car and removing Sam from his arms.  With one arm around Dean and Sam in the other, John watched as they carried his wife’s body out of the charred remains of the nursery.  As young as he was Dean knew that things would never be the same.

             Around him Dean could hear thuds and grunts; even behind his closed eyes he was aware of flashes of orange light.  Sam was fighting his way across the room to his brother, but Dean was pretty sure he wasn’t going to make it.

              He was standing next to his brother looking into the open trunk of the Impala.  Sam tossed a sawed off into and put his hand on the lid, ‘We’ve got work to do.

              An arm around his shoulder, Sam had made it to him. Dean felt something it his face and realized that Sam was crying.  He tried to get a breath to talk but the hole in his lung made that impossible.  He tried to raise his hand but his body wouldn’t obey him.  At last he managed to get his eyes opened, the movement must have caught Sam’s eye because he looked right at Dean’s face.

            “Dean,” was all he said before Dean’s world went black.

              It was his eighteenth birthday and John had just dropped the keys to the Impala into his hand.  He looked over at Sammy with a huge grin. ‘Let’s go for a ride, Sammy!’

            The two of them jumped into the car.  As they drove down the road, Dean looked at his brother in the passenger’s seat and thought this was how it should be forever.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

FIVE YEARS LATER

            Sam’s personal cell phone rang. He answered it when a quick glance at the screen showed it was Claire.  Only a few people still had that number since he’d retired from active hunting when Dean died.  He wasn’t alone, the bunker was now an open secret in the hunting community and hunters stopped by all the time.  Occasionally he would realize that he was becoming Bobby and smile ruefully as he saw the hunters off to their next case.  He tapped the speaker button on his phone to answer it.

            “Claire! Hey, kiddo, what’s up,” he asked smiling even though she couldn’t see him.

            “I’m on a salt and burn in Grayling and I saw the ghost, Sam,” Claire’s voice sounded shaky.

            Sam’s heart froze and his smile faded. “Claire, don’t…”

            Claire yelled, “It was Dean.  He looked younger than I remember but it was Dean!”

            Sam took a deep breath, “I gave him a hunter’s funeral, Claire, you were there.”

            Sam’s tone calmed Claire down a little, “Why do you think I’m freaking out? I think I need you on this one, you’re the only one who knows exactly where it happened.”

            “I don’t know if I can,” Sam almost whispered.

            “You’re going to have to, Samuel,” Claire’s voice was hard and scared at the same time. “I can’t…I can’t do this one myself.”

            Sam was quiet, letting her words sink in.  If it was Dean would he be able to do this?  Then he pulled himself together, this was his mess and he owed it to Dean to help clean it up.

            “It’s going to take me a few hours to get there, but I’m on my way as soon as I pack,” he told Claire.

            He could hear the smile in her voice, “Just bring Baby, I miss her, ya Moose.”

            Sixteen hours later Sam pulled up in front of The Alpine Motor Lodge, stretching as he got out of Baby.  Moving a little stiffly from sitting so long he walked up to room 2 and knocked on the door.  There was the sound of movement inside, a long pause, then the door flew open and he was hit by a blond human missile.   As Claire nearly strangled him, he lifted her up and returned her hug.  Once she let go, he settled himself at the table in her room to let her tell him what had happened.

            “You haven’t been eating again,” was the first thing she said to him.

            Sam gave a short bark of laughter, “You sound just like Jody. How’s she doing?”

            “They finally made her retire as sheriff. And she says if you don’t stop by on the way home she’s going to give the house to Alex and move into the bunker,” Claire gave him a look that was part evil and part merriment.  “Once she sees you she may do that anyway.”

            “I’ll stop,” he promised with a smile.  Then he got serious. “So tell me what happened.”

            Claire took a deep breath and began.

            She’d been tracking the shifter for two weeks and three states before finally catching up with him in Grayling.  He was holed up in an abandoned building, all that was left of an old lumber yard, near the center of town.  She slipped in keeping to the shadows, watching as he stood near a dark spot on the floor.  Drawing her gun, she got a bead on the center of his chest and flipped off the safety. He must have heard the click because he turned towards her.

            “Hunter,” it hissed starting across the room.

            That’s when it happened; a tall, bow-legged figure appeared between her and the shifter. With a gesture, it flung the shifter across the building and stepped out of the way, leaving Claire with a clear shot.  She squeezed the trigger and planted a silver bullet right in the things heart.  Then the figure turned and stepped into the moonlight coming through the holes in the roof.  All Claire could do was gape at the familiar green eyes and smile, even if the face was years younger than she remembered.

            “Good shooting, kiddo,” Dean said in a hollow voice as he vanished.

            Claire ran back to her car, pulling her phone out as she went.

            “And that’s when I called you,” she finished.

            Sam had been quiet while Claire talked, listening to her tone of voice, watching her face and body language.  She believed what she was saying and he was inclined to believe that she had seen Dean’s ghost.  He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath, then looked at her.

            “First thing tomorrow we’ll go to the building,” he said softly.  “I must have missed something when I was cleaning up that’s tying Dean there.”

            Claire looked at the man she had considered her big brother for a good portion of her life.  It bothered her to see him so upset, he’d missed Dean so much and now she was stirring everything up all over again.  She nodded her agreement. “You want to shower while I go grab some food?”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

            Morning sunlight streamed through the holes in the roof creating a patchwork of light and shadows on the floor of the building.  Sam stared at the dark, irregular splotch on the floor for so long Claire started to get worried.  Finally he looked back at her, his eyes filled with pain.

            “This is the place,” he told her, his voice sad.  “This is the exact spot where he died.  That has to be his…”

            Claire walked over and put her hand on Sam’s forearm causing him to look at her with a soft smile.  “I can do this.  I’ll break up that section of the floor…”

            “No,” Sam cut her off.” It’s my responsibility.”

            He went back to the Impala and got the sledge hammer he’d bought on the way here.  Hefting it with a grunt he brought it down in the middle of the dark patch that had been a puddle of blood years ago.  There was a crack, so loud that Claire flinched, as the cement floor broke into pieces.  She went to get salt and lighter fluid from the car.

            Sam was only vaguely aware of Claire leaving he was so focused on what he was doing.  He poured five years of sorrow and anger into breaking up the section of the floor that was the place where his brother had died.  He felt his emotions ebb as the three foot section of cement was ground into gravel under his hand.  He lost track of time until he lifted the hammer and it went flying out of his hand.  He whirled pulling his gun from the waistband of his jeans only to freeze in his tracks.  Behind him was Dean; his face unlined, eyes clear, hair no longer carrying the traces of grey that had begun showing.  He looked like Sam remembered him when he was eighteen.

            “Sammy,” the spirit's voice was curious and hollow but still Dean’s. “Man, what happened to you?”

            Sam stared, unable to speak around the lump that formed in is throat, all the things that he’d wanted to say to Dean running through his head.  The spirit of his brother smiled at him like he hadn’t seen him smile for years before his death. Finally Sam managed to clear his throat. “Dean?”

            “Son of a bitch, how long has it been,” the spirit asked.  “You should be like fourteen and you look old, dude.”

            Sam swallowed again, “Dean, it’s been five years since you-“

            “Died,” Dean supplied. “Don’t be afraid to say it, I’ve kinda gotten used to the idea.”

            “Dean, what’s the last thing you remember,” Sam asked urgently.

            The spirit’s face darkened, “You arguing with Dad about Stanford and storming out.”

            Sam felt tears forming in his eyes; the last memory wasn’t a good one. “I’m sorry; it’s my fault you’re stuck here.”

            The spirit lightened a bit, “Just tell me you stayed out, that you had a good life. That will make it all worth it.”

            Sam sighed; even in death Dean still just wanted him to be happy. “It’s been a good life Dean.”

            At that moment Claire returned with the salt and lighter fluid, her face flooding with a mix of emotions when she saw Dean.  Without turning around Dean seemed to know she was there and his face produced that smirk that always seemed to get him the girls.

            “The hunter chick from last night, what’s your name gorgeous,” he flirted turning to face her.

            Claire’s face turned red, then went white, “Eww, dude no!”

            Sam couldn’t hide his smile at her horror.  Snapping his fingers he turned Dean’s attention back to him. “We’ve known her since she was a kid, jerk.  And she’s the adopted daughter of your best friend.”

            “Bitch,” Dean snapped back.  “Damn, how old was I when I died?”

            Sam’s smile turned rueful. “Older than either of us ever thought we’d get.”

            Dean’s face fell as he realized that Sam hadn’t gotten out of hunting.  He flickered a little as his emotions took over for a minute, then he stabilized looking a little older than he had just a minute before. Now the look he turned on Sam was full of sorrow.

            “Did I ever tell you how sorry I was about Jess,” he asked Sam. “How glad I was when you didn’t leave again after Azazel was gone?”

            Sam felt tears forming in his eyes but Dean didn’t give him a chance to say anything before he continued, “You were my rock, sometimes the only thing that kept me going. You’re my brother and my best friend and I don’t want to say good-bye.”

    Behind him Claire cleared her throat and Sam turned towards her. Castiel was standing with her, sorrow written all over his face. Sam wanted to yell at Cas for not telling him that Dean wasn't where he belonged but the angels demeanor stopped him. He held out his hand to Dean.

       “I'm sorry, Dean,” he said his voice rougher than normal. “But it's past time for you to leave.”

      Dean set his jaw, eyes turning hard and a little wild. “I'm not leaving Sam.”

      Claire, Cas, and Sam exchanged a look, the three of them recognized the tone of voice as Dean at his most stubborn. Sam have Claire a barely perceptible nod and before Dean could react she tossed the salt and lighter fluid to him.  He spread both over the pile of gravel at his feet, then pulled a book of matches out of his pocket.  He lit one, holding it to the others as he looked towards his brother’s spirit.

“I don’t want to say good-bye, either,” he managed to choke out. “But you’ve earned your rest, Dean.”

With that he dropped the book of matches onto the rubble and there was a muffled whoosh as the lighter fluid caught fire.  Before they had to watch Dean disappear in flames, Cas touched his shoulder and they vanished from the building in the flutter of feathers.  Sam and Claire stayed to watch the fire burn itself out, Sam occasionally poking at the gravel with the head of the sledgehammer he’d retrieved from across the building.  

When there was no more flames and only blackened stone, Claire reached up and placed a gentle hand on Sam’s shoulder.  “There’s a bar in town that serves one of the best burgers I’ve ever had.  Let’s go have one for Dean.”

Sam looked down at her, seeing some of his own sadness reflected in her eyes, he nodded.  Arm in arm they headed back to the Impala.

The Usual Suspects-

@darkcastersruletheworld @black-shad0w-w0lf @imagine-that-supernatural @ladysaraharper @thedepthsoffandomminds @kbrand0 @soaringeag1e @supernaturalismalife @iwantthedean @jojomonsterbunni @little-red-83 @growleytria @ashleymalfoy @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @halespecterwinchester @driverpicksthemuusic @torn-and-frayed @isometimeswritesomethings @whyisleepacesoamazing @mist-and-echoes @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @kaylas-obsessions @aerisawriting @letsgetoutalive @divinitycas @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @jodyri @soab1967 @busybee612 @appleschloss @kazchester-fanfiction @oriona75 @deandoesthingstome @littlegreenplasticsoldier @screeching-pterodactyl-fangirl @sammy-moo @for-the-love-of-dean @mrswhozeewhatsis @kittenofdoomage @sandlee44 @apeshit7x​ @purgatoan​ @fast-times-in-the-impala​ @wereallbrokenangels​ @wonderless-screwup​ @dontsassmecastiel​ @cherrie-liquor​ @deascheck​ @mrssamfuckingwinchester​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @tjforston​ @helixiaray​ @babi-correia​ @writingthingsisdifficult​ @mysaintsasinner​ @mogaruke​ @wheresthekillswitch​ @skybinx-blog​ 

[the-awkward-writer]

Towers

Pairings: Jared x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fighting

A/N: This is my entry for @chaos-and-the-calm67‘s Milestone Celebration! The song that I chose was Towers by Little Mix. Obviously, I love Jared. This is meant with no disrespect at all. It’s just a work of fiction. This is also complete and utter shit, so I sincerely apologize for that. I’ve been having a bit of writer’s block recently and this definitely reflects that.(P.S. The rules said that you were going to send me a gif, but I never got one, so I just used my own)

x

You met the man you thought you were going to marry in a bar.

He was tall, sweet, and handsome. The two of you talked over drinks and got to know each other. Before the two of you left the bar, you had already made plans to meet up the next week for coffee.

The first date was phenomenal. As was the second. And third. And fourth. And thirtieth. Not that you were counting or anything.

On the, what, fifth date? The man took you to a bar, this time. He bought you drinks and told you about his past. How he struggled with depression and self esteem issues. In return, you told him about your own skeletons. Your abusive childhood and anxiety struggles. “Well aren’t we just perfect for each other?” You raised your glass.

“Two equally fucked up adults with alcohol. Never was there a better pair,” he clinked his glass to yours in a toast, and the two of you simultaneously tipped your drinks back.

Yeah, Jared Padalecki was the one for you.

Jared Padalecki was the one for you.

You realized that Jared Padalecki was not the one for you on January 13th. It was a Friday.

You were exhausted from your shifts at the hospital as a social worker. You took on some really tough cases that hit very close to home.

When you got home, you immediately sprinted for your favorite sweats. You were prepared to spend the weekend alone with some wine and Netflix. The perfect de-stressor after the most intense week of your life.

You had settled down with The Office on Netflix and a brand new bottle of wine when your phone started to vibrate on the coffee table. A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was just past 8, the usual time that your boyfriend, Jared, called you.

You slid the green button, holding the phone up to your ear. “Hey, babe!” You greet him, trying to sound upbeat.

“Hey, how are you?” Jared’s voice filled your ears.

“I’m about ready to curl up in a ball and cry myself to sleep for the next two weeks, how about you?” You knew you sounded dramatic.

“I’m good. We got a lot of filming done today, so they let me go early,” he said. You would be lying if you said you weren’t a little disappointed that he didn’t ask you more about your day.

You sighed heavily, “That’s nice, Jare,” you pick at a loose thread on your sweatpants, “Look, I’m exhausted so I’m just going to go to sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Jared said, clearly offended, “Yeah, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

You hung up, turned off your phone, and tossed it to the opposite side of the couch. You were in a really bad mood, and you didn’t want to deal with anything.

You had just gotten settled back down when a knock sounded on your door, “Jesus Christ, I do not care about your godly pamphlets,” you muttered as you walked sluggishly to your door.

You flung it open, not bothering to check who it was. “Hey, baby,” Jared greeted you.

You took a step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I told you, filming wrapped up so they let us go early,” he said with a smile, leading you back into your apartment.

You forced a smile onto your face, “That’s neat.”

“Sure is,” Jared smirked, leaning down and peppering kisses down your neck.

You shoved him away, “Jared, please stop. I don’t want to tonight,” you said firmly.

Jared respected your wishes and backed off before excusing himself to go to the bathroom. You sighed as you sat down on the couch. Shouldn’t you be more happy that he’s here? Excited that he came home early? You knew you should be, but you couldn’t help but feel even more annoyed by his presence. You just wanted one night to relax and unwind.

A few minutes later, Jared emerged from the bathroom, “What are we watching?” He asked, flopping down beside you.

“I am watching The Office,” you supplied, taking a sip of your wine.

“Ugh, I’ve already watched this twice,” Jared said. He took the remote right out of your hand and exited out of the Netflix program, switching to sports instead.

“Uhm, excuse you?”

Jared looked at you out of the corner of his eye, “What? The Heat is playing tonight!”

You nearly scoffed at his feeble argument, “I was watching a show. This is my TV, my remote, my house. Change it back.” You knew it was petty, but you were in no mood to deal with it.

Jared laughed, “No.”

Your nostrils flared and your blood boiled, “Get out.”

Jared did a double take, “What?”

You snatched the remote from his hand, “Get the fuck out.”

Jared rolled his eyes, “I think you’re being a little over dramatic,” Jared said, holding his hands up, “Are you on your period?”

You saw red. You stood up from your place on the couch and stomped over to Jared’s bags. You heaved them into the hallway quickly, “What the hell are you doing?” Jared yelled from behind you.

“Get the hell out of my apartment!”

“You’re kicking me out over a TV show? That’s kind of pathetic, Y/N,” Jared said.

You slammed the door shut; you didn’t want your neighbors to hear your next words.

“No, Jared. I am kicking you out because you don’t give a fuck about me. I try to tell you how awful my week was, but you just ignore me. I try to watch some TV on a television that I pay for, but I can’t even do that, and I can’t even show how upset I am because apparently you’ll assume that I’m on my period!” Your voice rose in pitch until you were nearly hysterical. You took a deep breath, calming yourself slightly, “So get out and don’t come back.”

“So that’s it?” Jared questioned. “You’re just going to break up with me over one stupid argument?”

You sighed, this was going to take a lot more than you expected, “No, Jared. I’ve been feeling this way for a while now,” you said truthfully.

“What did I do?” Jared’s voice was filled with hurt and anguish.

“You know about my past. I also know about yours. I am always there to support you, but when I need some support of my own, I come up empty handed.”

Tears began to form in Jared’s eyes, “Come on, Y/N,” he said, reaching out for you, “We can work this out.”

Your own tears began to pool, “No. We can’t, Jared. I can’t be with someone that doesn’t want to support me.”

“Baby please,” Jared begged as his tears began to fall.

You shook your head vigorously, “No, Jared. This is the end. Goodbye.”

Jared looked you in the eyes, realizing that he fucked up the best thing that he’s ever had. He grabbed his jacket from the dining chair, “Can we still be friends?” To Jared, his voice sounded pathetically desperate.

It was hard to talk around the giant lump in your throat, but you managed to get the word out, “No.”

With that one single word that echoed in his brain and destroyed his heart, Jared Padalecki left your apartment.

Jared Padalecki never stopped believing you were the one for him.

i know it’s trash. i’m sorry.

tags: want to be added or removed? shoot me an ask!

Forevers:

@evyiione, @iputthesininbuisness, @mogaruke, @thatshellfiredean, @jannalionheart, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, @whit85-blog, @allofmyimagination, @ria132love, @stressedbisexualwinchester, @infinity-dreamchaser, @not-impala

[trexrambling]

10 Reasons

This was written for Bev’s Milestone Celebration. Congrats on all of your accomplishments @chaos-and-the-calm67! I chose the prompt: Let me give you a list, a top ten list of things NOT to do when you’re breaking up with a girl. At Number 10...  with Dean. The gif she gave me is posted first. The second gif I added in myself.

A/N: My tumblr writing soulmate @hannahindie was my beta for this, and she’s the only reason it sounds as good as it does. I really struggled to write this one. She helped me connect thoughts and add perfection. Love you, babe!

Warnings: a bit of angst, fluff, smut if you squint hard enough

Word Count: 1,082

I’d been down this road so many times that the words were like a well-rehearsed script. Maybe it had become an empty script, but that just meant some damn great acting if I do say so myself.  I’d seen the ugly tears, the white-hot rage, the snarky bitterness, and even the apathetic glares. Most of the time I didn’t see anything, because if I’ve learned anything it’s to get the hell outta there before the sun starts shining.

But sometimes the script doesn’t work. Sometimes you lose yourself in the moment. Sometimes... you can’t help yourself. Because sometimes, she’s more than just a one-night-stand. Let me give you a list, a top ten list of things NOT to do when you’re breaking up with a girl.

At Number 10 - Timing. Avoid birthdays. Steer clear of Valentine’s Day. Sidestep Christmas. Basically, all holidays and the four days buffering either side are off limits. That type of timeline begs for excess tears and ducking to avoid projectiles thrown in your direction, and purses hurt like a bitch. Look out for moments when you’re feeling cracks in your walls. Escape moments when you feel your resolve slipping. Flee from moments when you’re weak. Those times beg for surrender.

Number 9 – Don’t just leave a note. Don’t just text or call. Be a man and own the fact that you knew this wasn’t going to last. From day one you entered into this knowing it would end. Your life is too dangerous, you’re too broken, and everyone around you just gets hurt. In a moment of weakness you might let yourself believe otherwise, so don’t be weak at the end of everything, too.

Number 8 – The script. When rehearsed words start to be laced with emotions, you tend to say stupid shit. The cracks in your façade will start to show, and if you throw away the script altogether everything will crumble. She’ll slip into those cracks like ivy on an old house, searching for a foothold in her fragile state. You’ll say things you shouldn’t, things that will wound and offer healing at the same time. You’ll accidentally offer the hope you desperately want to reach for yourself. Don’t slip up – stick to the script.

Number 7 – Don’t lie. Most of your time with her was a lie anyway. Maybe not the feelings – you definitely wanted her, and she definitely wanted you. What you felt towards her wasn’t fake, and what she felt towards you she did so with the best knowledge that she had. But who you really are, she never knew. She was with someone that put on a mask every day and left most of himself behind. So where you can be truthful, do it. Tell her it’s all on you. Tell her you can’t be who she wants you to be. Tell her she deserves better. Tell her the truth.

Number 6 – Don’t stay. After all the kissing and discarded clothes, after the desperate need and the follow through, after the moans of pleasure and the sighs of contentment, after the close snuggles…don’t stay. You’ll want to. Oh God, will you want to. She’ll be warm against your side, tucked perfectly against you as if she were made to fill the spot. And even though you’ve faced hell and lived to talk about it, you’ll feel safer with her there. But you can’t stay – the safety is a charade. Leave and don’t ever look back.

Number 5 – Don’t let her talk to you. She won’t always believe you when you tell her she deserves more. She’ll try to fight you on it. She’ll make you feel like you’re worth something, that you’re worth fighting for. She’s always made you a better person, so she’s only ever seen your best self. She doesn’t know everything you’ve done. She doesn’t know that you’ve killed and tortured and let down more people than you can count. But her words are hope in the darkness. And you’ll be tempted to cling to them, to believe what she says. So the best thing you can do is say your part and leave before she can say hers.

Number 4 – Don’t take her hand. When she reaches out to you, take a step back. Her hand is a trap, a connection to herself that speaks forgiveness and acceptance. She’s heard everything you said, and yet she’s still offering herself to you. Her outstretched hand is a symbol of love. It’s the same hand that has intertwined with yours, the same hand that has held you, the same hand that has reached out to comfort when you returned home from a hard hunt. Her hand is a trap that will have you falling back to her. Wait until she finally lets it drop.

Number 3 – Don’t look into her eyes. Her eyes have always said more than her words ever could. There will be tears there, reminding you that you hurt her. There will be confusion as she searches your face for answers. There will be flashes of anger as she looks for a way to process. And above all, there will be love. So much love it will trap you. You’ll be frozen like a deer in headlights, and there will be nothing you can do to pull away. Don’t let yourself be trapped.

Number 2 – Don’t wrap her in your arms, to hold her in the sorrow of the moment and feel her flush against you. She’ll cling to you, but not as tightly as you’re clinging to her. She is warmth and sunlight, peace and rest, love and hope. Your arms are where she belongs and where she can’t stay. You are security and danger, calm and chaos, alive but dead. Your arms are just as much a comfort as they are poison, and she’s too pure to be tainted. But if you pull her into you, you’ll never let her go again.

Number 1 – When she slowly pulls back, when she looks at you with love, when she places her lips on yours, you can’t kiss her back. You can’t pour out your emotions in the way you know best, and you can’t tear down that final wall because you’ll never be able to build it again. Her lips will seal a promise you’re terrified to make. And you won’t be able to leave her. You never wanted to anyway. Because here, with her, it’s the only place you ever want to be.

Tags: @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @pinknerdpanda @arryn-nyxx @hannahindie @chaos-and-the-calm67 @jotink78 @ruprecht0420 @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @super-not-naturall @a-bouquet-of-fandoms @aiaranradnay @percywinchester27 @deanssweetheart23 @jpadjackles

[paintrider13-blog]

If You Want Blood

This is my entry for the amazing @chaos-and-the-calm67 My prompt was If You Want Blood by AC/DC  ;) Thanks to the ever wonderful @death2thevirgin for letting me bounce ideas and for reading it through for me! I hope you like it! It gets SUPER steamy!

Word Count: 3179 yeah its worth it.

Warning: smut, blood, gore, killing, talk of addiction, did I mention smut? 

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Lyrics are in Bold and italics 

“Crowley, it’s not enough.” You stormed into the throne room, making sure the doors crashed open, not giving a shit who was present.

“My pet, what is not enough?” He asked looking over the demons before him.

“Any of them. None of them! I’m on fire Crowley! I need something better!” You were almost shrieking at him at this point.

You felt like your veins were burning it didn’t matter how many demons he gave you, the blood couldn’t give you that high you needed. They only tied you over for so long, you knew that the addiction was getting worse but you couldn’t help it, the high that you got from the blood at first was better than anything you’d ever felt before. Now you were chasing more.

Crowley had found you shortly after you had gotten addicted. The demon had left you high and dry, literally. For some unknown reason the King of Hell took to you like a father, you were his little Princess. It probably helped that you were a nasty little thing and had a hell of a temper when provoked.

“Everyone out.” Crowley barked.

You turned to leave just as he called you back.

“Not you my pet, I have a solution.” He steepled his hands in front of him on the throne. Looking thoughtfully at you.

You chewed your bottom lip and waited. You knew that he would fix this. He had taken your addiction to the demon blood that magnified your psychic abilities and channeled all of that anger and destruction. You had been his Angel of Death for close to 70 years. Putting down any demons that crossed the line or that needed to be brought home. Only recently nothing satisfied you and the cravings had gotten worse.

“Since my demon population is not satisfying you, we are going to try something, off menu. However, you my pet, will have to track him down. He is a bit on the rogue side. Find him, you’ll be satisfied, however, you need to do something for me when you find him.” Crowley smiled at you.

“If he will fix this, I’ll find him. Who am I after and who do I have to put down?” You asked sitting on the step at his feet looking up at him. You knew whatever he needed was someone sent back to the depths of Hell.

“Dean Winchester.”  

You made your way into the bar tugging your top down a little further. You had been stalking the black eyed hunter for the past few days. You wanted to make your move count. Plus, you had to so you could get his blood.

Dean was at the bar, dressed in a maroon button down shirt and fitted jeans that hugged his ass and a sexy pair of bow legs. God he was attractive, he oozed confidence and sex appeal. The man was a Demon in every sense of the word.

You smiled to yourself as you stalked towards the bar. You passed him at the corner, knowing he saw you, and stopped a few people down. You ordered two double shots of whiskey and turned your back to him.

His eyes fell on you like a caress. You could feel his gaze like a physical touch. You smirked looking down into your glass, you could feel the air shift as he moved towards you down the crowded bar.

“Mmmm, don’t you just smell perfect.” A masculine voice purred in your ear. You felt him slide his nose up the side of your neck as he pressed against your back. “I bet you I am much more fun than whoever you are waiting for.”

“Hello Dean.” You purred back, without turning around you slid the extra tumbler towards him on the bar. “You’re awfully cocky.”

“Do I know you princess?” He asked still pressed to your back.  

“Not yet, but hopefully we will get to know each other very well.” You turned towards him drinking your whiskey. You looked up at him and smiled seductivley.

“My room or yours?” He asked smirking at you.

“Yours is probably closer, however, I have a job we need to get done first.” You trailed your finger over his chest.

“Who sent you?” He asked catching your wrist in his large hand in a vice like grip.

“Ooooh, I like it rough,” you almost moaned to him.  “Crowley did.”

“I am not his dog to be told what to do. No thanks Princess,” he told you tossing his whiskey back. He still had a hold of your wrist.

“But it will be fun. Plus, you need to satisfy that itch. I can feel it,” you breathed leaning your body flush against the front of him. You could feel the power rolling off of him, it was intoxicating. You wanted to taste him so badly it took all of your control not to bite him hard enough to draw blood right here in the bar.

“Crowley sent you to help me?” He asked skeptically.

“Perse, more or less he sent me because we can help each other out.”  You told him focusing on his lips. God they looked kissable.

“Meaning?” He licked his lips knowing full well that is where your focus was.

“Well you need to satisfy that nasty little thing,” you nodded towards his arm. “And I need some satisfaction that can only come from you.” You met his eyes.

“Not enough sex out there for you Princess?” He chuckled.

“Oh, it’s not the sex babe,” you leaned towards his ear. “It’s the blood. See as a Knight of Hell, you are top shelf kind of satisfaction. But I do bet you are one hell of a lay. All we have to do is clean up a couple of demons who don’t want to go home. You give me a little bite, or two, of you and we are square.”  

“A bite? I know who you are. You’re Y/N, Crowley’s little bitch.” He leaned back and looked you over. You were dressed in tight black jeans, a halterneck black corset and heeled boots.

“Oh, now, now, you are Crowley’s Bitch the last I checked, and I prefer Princess. Two different things.” You told him shortly. You waved the bartender down and ordered two more whiskey’s.

“You’re a mouthy little shit.” Dean growled at you roughly grabbing your hip. Ooh, he had a temper.

“Hey babe, it takes one to know one. Now are you going to help me or not?” you looked pointedly at him. You knew you had to behave a little, you needed his blood and you were not going to survive without it. You could already feel the effects of the last demon fading.

“Why would I help you?”

You smiled at him and leaned into his chest, sliding your hand closest to the bar down below his belt line to cup him through his jeans.

“Because, you’re bored of trolling the bars for sex that is passable at best,  and you need to satisfy the voice that is begging to be fed. Begging for you to kill, to feel that high.” You tighten your grip on his dick causing him to take a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Who do you have to put down?” He asked leaning in towards your face. He smelled of whiskey and excitement.

“There is a bar ten miles outside town called The Red Lantern. It the demons version of the hunter’s Roadhouse.” You slid your other hand up around the nape of his neck and pulled him closer.

“How am I supposed to help?” He asked following your pull.

“I can do ten on one, twenty is a little harder and thirty is rough. Help me take them out, let me feed and we are good.” You let your breath fall across his lips.

“How much do you need?” He asked focusing on you.

“After we are done, it will be worth it.” You whispered. “Let’s get out of here.” You grabbed his hand and led the way for the parking lot.

You talked him into your Chevelle and made your way out of town. He didn’t ask questions until you pulled into the lot.

“How many?” he asked quietly, looking at the front door of the bar.

“Forty give or take. I can only take half of them alone.” You told him following his look.

“All you need is for me to help send them back?”

“Yep, all you need to do is go tear through them. I am surprised you are asking questions.  I give you the opportunity to kill and you are questioning me.” You reached across the seat to stroke his thigh.

“Well Princess, this all seemed a little too good to be true. I’ll get the back doors, let’s go,” he opened the door and slid out of the car. He rolled his head to loosen his neck and started towards the bar.

“Well okay then,” you huffed getting and following him.  

Once inside you watched Dean make his way to the bar to get a drink, you discreetly flipped the lock on the front door biting your lip, surveying the mass of demons in the bar. 40 total.  You sashayed your way to the jukebox in the corner, pulling most of the eyes in the bar to you when you bent over to pick your selection. You scrolled through and found the AC/DC cd’s and quickly made your selection.

As the song started you planted your hands on the sides of the jukebox and swayed your hips, tossing your head back and forth:

It’s criminal

There ought to be a law,

Criminal

There ought to be a whole lot more

You get nothing for nothing

Tell me who can you trust

We go what you want

And you got the lust

You bent down to slide your blade from your boot and turned suddenly, stabbing the demon who had come up behind you.  Your mouth curved into a sadistic smile as you kicked the demon back to fall to the floor causing the entire bar to erupt into chaos.

If you want blood you got it

If you want blood, you got it

Blood on the streets

Blood on the rocks

Blood in the gutter

Every last drop

You want blood, you got it

You twirled around removing the head of another demon that came at you laughing as his head hit the floor with a thud. You winked at Dean who was still at the bar, he tossed his drink back and joined you in the fray shaking his head at you.

It’s animal

Livin’ in a human zoo

Animal

The shit they toss to you

Feeling like a Christian

Locked in a cage

Thrown to the lions

On the second page

You paused watching Dean cut through the demons as they scattered across the bar running for the exits. Watching him fight was like watching a finely rehearsed dance. He was smooth, vicious, he cut through everything in his path. He had a satisfied smirk on his face as he went. He was enjoying this. God his blood would be rich and full of adrenaline and power.

You had put the song on repeat, by the third time through there was nothing left standing in the bar. Dean was standing with his back to you breathing heavily. You watched him roll his head back looking up at the ceiling taking a deep breath. He was still on the high, the blood fueled drive.

He turned suddenly, his eyes landing on you, standing with your legs braced apart surrounded by bodies breathing heavily. You had blood running down your arm to drip off your blade, and you were sure it was splashed on your face, a little blood never did bother you.

You quirked an eyebrow at him and smirked as he started towards you. He dropped his blade on the way, not a word said as he scooped you up in his arms, his lips crashing to yours in a scorching kiss.

You moaned at the sensation of his hard body coming flush with yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and let him carry you to the bar. He set you down and deepened the kiss.

His hands were everywhere, he ran them up your thighs to cup your ass, pressing your core into his hard dick. You moaned cupping his face in your hands. Good God the man could kiss, that alone set him apart from every other demon you had fed on. You could feel the passion coming off of him, he wanted sex, and he was going to take it.

His hands moved to the front of your corset making short work of the hooks before he pushed it back off your shoulders baring your breasts to him. You laced your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck as he attacked you, drawing a taut nipple into his mouth, a filthy moan spilling from your open lips.

You pushed at the button down shirt he was wearing to get it off his shoulders. He quickly took the hint and ripped it off followed by his t-shirt, only letting go of your nipple long enough to get his shirt over his head.

The man was gorgeous, he was all broad planes and freckled tan skin. You ran your hands over his shoulders and down his back, hooking your heels around his ass to pull him closer to you. You ran your hands back up into his hair pulling it to guide him back to your lips. You were met with solid black eyes as he looked up at you.

“God you’re hot,” you moaned as your lips came into contact with his. You ground yourself shamelessly against the front of him needing more than just the friction. Your hands slid down his chest to his belt, you pushed him back a little bit so you could unbuckle it.

“You in a hurry Princess?” He chuckled nibbling down your jawline. He slid his hands up your back and around to your front to knead your breasts causing your fingers to fumble with the button on his pants.

“I want you Dean,  I want to feel you, and I need to taste you.” You growled in his ear finally getting the button on his pants to release. You slid your hand down the front of his boxers to cup his throbbing cock, he was huge and ready.

“I’m all yours,” he moaned as you slid your thumb over his head smearing precum.

“Good,” you nipped at his ear pushing his pants down over his hips.

He nibbled your neck and slowly unbuttoned your pants pulling a moan of protest from you with his leisurely pace. You wanted him now, and it was taking all you had not to sink your teeth into his neck or shoulder. You wanted him to really see how it was to be fed on by the King of Hell’s Princess.

“Hmmm impatient,” he cooed at you reaching down and tugging your boots off one at a time. You watched him drop them to the floor before he hooked his hands in the waistband of your pants. You lifted your hips so he could slide them down your let’s and deposit them on the floor with your boots.

He winked at you, cupping your ass, as he slid your hips to the edge of the bar. He drug the head of his cock through your soaking folds pulling a desperate moan from you.

“So wet,” he whispered looking up at you.

“All for you.” You breathed, rolling your hips.

His eyes flashed green for a slight second before being engulfed in black as he slid himself into your soaking pussy in one thrust.

“Fuck youre tight Princess,” he moaned pausing to let your body adjust to him.

“Please Dean,” you begged circling your hips pulling his face to yours to kiss him.

He clasped your hips in his large hands and slid almost all of the way out to pound back into you. You cried out meeting his thrust begging for more. He found a bruising rhythm pounding into you pulling obscene moans from you. You dug your fingers into his shoulders holding on for the ride, your body winding tighter and tighter as he took you higher.

“Tell me when you are going to cum,” you purred in his ear. You were already so close, you wanted to keep it at bay for a second longer.

“God, I’m close,” he growled grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you in for a hot kiss.

“Good,” you pulled away from him, wrapping your legs tightly around him, you cradled his head in your hand pulling it slightly to the side.

You licked along the column of his throat feeling his pulse under his skin, his rhythm faltering.

“Dean!” You screamed his name as your orgasm hit you hard, you latched onto his shoulder, your teeth breaking the skin. His blood was intoxicating as it flooded your mouth. You felt the heat spread through you pushing your orgasm even higher.

“Fuck!” he cried out thrusting a few more times before spilling himself inside you. You felt his whole body shudder as he pressed his dick as deep into you as he could, wrapping his arms around you, his whole body continuing to shake. You sucked at his shoulder causing him to cry out again as another shudder wracked his body.

You sucked for a second longer, before lapping at the broken skin pulling back, licking your lips.

“Jesus, that was… wow.” His eyes met yours, they were green now. His hand made its way up to his shoulder to finger the bite that was there.

“And you were worried about me biting you.” You smirked a him. “It wasn’t that bad was it?”  You asked.

“Is that how it always is?” He looked up at you licking his lips, you would feel him softening inside you.

“If it is done right yes.” You draped your arms over his shoulders, tickling his back with one hand.

“Fuck me.” He chuckled rubbing his nose along the inside of your arm.

“Oh honey, I did.” You winked at him pulling him forward to kiss him. You knew he would be able to taste the ting of his blood on your lips.

“I can tell you, you taste the best by far,” you whispered against his lips. “All passion and power, you’re intoxicating.” You tilted his head with your arm and kissed down his jaw. You felt his dick twitch inside you.

“All you wanted was one bite,” he asked rolling his head back to give you more access.

“Oh no, I want to devour you, I am nowhere near done with you yet Dean.” You chuckled sucking at his pulse point.

There was going to be blood tonight, and he was going to be delicious.

Want to be added? removed? anything? send me an ask! my box is open :) 

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Dean:

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Reader insert only:

@jensen-jarpad

[ariannnawinchester]

The Edge.

Characters: Dean, Reader, Sam, Jess, Ellen, Jo, Cas, Benny, Lisa, Garth, Charlie and Bobby.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Character death, descriptions of death, gory stuff, suicide, talks of a miscarriage and swearing. This is angst af. Sorry.

Summary: This is an AU. The world is ending, and the crew are the only people left, that they know off. It takes one bite from a flesh eater for a person to turn. The crew only have each other, a certain death tips the brothers over the edge and this leads to chaos and death.

A/N: This is for @chaos-and-the-calm67 (Bev)’s Milestone Challenge, Congrats! Your work is super awesome and you deserve every single follower! I chose the song ‘when the levee breaks’ by Led Zeppelin. You like let me know, because I love feedback sm. Have an awesome Tuesday!

“If it keeps on rainin’, levee’s goin’ to break If it keeps on rainin’, levee’s goin’ to break When the levee breaks I’ll have no place to stay”

The rain continued to fall, the dark clouds hanging over your head accompanied by the roaring thunder and the white flashes of lighting reminded you that the world and the last few people left on it, were screwed royally.

You sat shot gun in the old Jeep, your hand clasped tightly with Dean’s as he stared ahead, his eyes focused on the terrain in front of him

The other vehicles trailed behind in a straight line, waiting for any signal from Dean. Tension inside was palpable, the chilled air was the only thing filling the silence. You looked up into the review mirror and noticed silent tears rolling down Jess’ face as her trembling fingers carded through Sam’s wet tangled hair that was sprawled across her lap. His eyes were shut as if he were asleep but when you looked out of the corner of your eye, you noticed he was crying too.

“Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan Mean old levee taught me to weep and moan It’s got what it takes to make a mountain man leave his home Oh, well, oh, well, oh, well”

“It’s not anyone’s fault.” You voice cracking through the tension, “it’s no one’s fault. You hear me?” you saw Dean’s jaw clench and heard a strangled sob leave Jess’ chest.

“He’s dead. He’s fucking dead.” Dean yelled, his voice making your ears ring, “I had to put a fucking bullet in his head.” he banged his fists against the steering wheel.

His outburst shook you, you lip began to tremble and your heart thudded louder in your ears.

“Dean.” Sam’s voice thick with emotion, “I‘m sor-”

The Jeep came to a screeching halt, your head jerked forward so sharply that you nearly hit the dash. Dean whipped around to face Sam, his face red with fury, “Bobby is fucking dead and all you have to say is sorry? All you fucking have to say is sorry? This is on you, Bobby’s death is on your head.”

Sam’s voice rose in contest with Dean’s, “My fault?” He stabbed a finger at his own chest, “You were the one who put a goddamn bullet between his eyes. “ then he stabbed a finger in Dean’s face.

“Maybe if you had your head screwed on right he would have still been alive. You let him get bit, he died trying to save your sorry fucking ass. You killed him.” Dean growled, his eyes were gone dark and hard, a cold look settled in them.

“Fuck you Dean.” Sam spat, before jumping out the Jeep and slamming the door behind him.

“This fucking son of a bitch.” Dean snarled as he got out too, stomping after Sam, the wind whipping his shirt against his body, “You walk away from this family don’t you dare come back. Don’t you fucking dare.” Dean ground out.

“Like it fucking matters. Like any of this shit matters. We’re going to die anyway, ain’t that what you said fearless leader?” Sam laughed sardonically

“Don’t it make you feel bad When you’re tryin’ to find your way home You don’t know which way to go? If you’re goin’ down South They got no work to do, If you don’t know about Chicago”

Cas and Benny had gotten out of the truck, watching and waiting on the sidelines to see if things got bloody between the brothers or if they had to intervene. Cas’ eyes met yours through the back glass, fear and agony clouding the blue.

“Y/N.” Jess began, “It’s my fault that Bobby is dead. Sam was distracted because of me.”

“What do you mean?” you reached out for her hand.

“I told him I was pregnant. I’m pregnant Y/N.” Her tears falling harder making her breathing uneven as she sobbed. She settled her hand on her belly before jumping out to join Sam.

You ran your hand through your hair, a ragged breath leaving your throat. Jess’ confession didn’t shock you, you had a feeling for weeks but you didn’t want to pry. You didn’t want to unsettle things. But the truth always finds it way out.

Dean’s eyes darted to Jess, “Damn it, get back in Jeep Jess. You’re pregnant, we suspected it for weeks. You’re in no position to follow this son of a bitch anywhere. Get back inside, I won’t tell you again.” his tone left no room for argument.

“I’m done with your bullshit Dean.” Sam spat, flipping his middle finger at his brother, holding it high for everyone to see and then charged him. His balled fist smashing against Dean’s jaw.

A shocked gasp left your mouth when you saw Dean spit blood, and before you could blink his fist connected with Sam’s nose. You bolted out of the Jeep, putting yourself between them.

You slammed your palms against their heaving chests, “Stop it!” you screamed, “Just fucking stop it! You think this is what Bobby would have wanted? You turning on each other?” you glared at Dean then Sam, “Is this how you honor his fucking memory?” you spat, for the first time today you weren’t numb, you felt everything. The fury, the grief and the pain bubbling beneath your skin, “You both are supposed to lead us. They look to both of you for fucking guidance and this is what they get.” you stab your finger in the direction of the others. “Both of you trying to beat each other to death instead of helping each other survive. That poor fucking girl is pregnant. You think she needs this?“ you fling your hand towards Jess in the Jeep, We all lost Bobby. We are all dealing.”

“Cryin’ won’t help you, prayin’ won’t do you no good Now, cryin’ won’t help you, prayin’ won’t do you no good When the levee breaks, mama, you got to move”

You heard a agonizing wail as Ellen crumpled to the grass, her head bent as she sobbed. Jo’s eyes red from crying as she embraced her mother in her arms, trying to bring comfort that will never come.

“Ellen’s lost the love of life. Imagine the ache she must feel. The least we can fucking do is lay Bobby to rest in his old house with the good memories before everything went to shit.” Your voice broke, the tears dribbling down your cheeks, “Get in the goddamn Jeep, so we can have this funeral. So we can give Bobby what he wanted.”

You watched the fire lick at the wood and Bobby’s body wrapped in a white sheet. The wind beat against your face as you stood still, the grief making your feel nauseous. You could only blink at the pyre, you didn’t know what to say to Bobby or to make you feel better. Everyone had said wonderful things to remember and honor Bobby when Ellen had dropped the match to light the fire but you couldn’t even form words, you just stood there, clinging onto Jess. Midst of Garth’s speech, Dean had stalked off with a clenched jaw and his fist balled at his sides, like he was trying to hold himself together. You wanted to run after him, but you couldn’t even will yourself to move.

“Y/N.” Cas said your name as his arm curled around your shoulder, “You okay?”

You scoffed, turning to face him with a rigid thin smile on your face, “I’m the furthest thing from okay.” you leaned against his side, “First Charlie, now Bobby. How many people is Dean going to see die before he loses his mind? Losing our unborn child, that sent him hurtling right to the edge.” A sob raked through your body, “I’m trying to be strong. For him, for us all but I can feel the ropes slip. It hurts so much. How much longer can I hold on before everything collapses. I love him Cas, and I don’t know how to save him from himself.”

“All last night sat on the levee and moaned All last night sat on the levee and moaned Thinkin’ about my baby and my happy home”

A shrill scream alerted you and Cas, sending both of you racing to the back of the yard. The first thing you saw was a body, the head blown to smithereens and the thick black blood seeping in to the beige sand.

“It came right at Lisa.” Benny said, his chest heaving and his gun smoking, “It was snapping at her.”

Lisa was huddling in the corner, tears streaked down her cheeks and her knees up to her chest as she shivered with fright. Benny raced to her, pushing her hair out off her face and cradling her in his strong arms.

“Cas, go warn the others.” you said, closing a fist around the barrel of your gun, “And, Benny go get Lisa checked out ,we gotta get out of here.”

“How’d they find us?” Lisa whispered.

“I don’t know but we gotta go. Now. I’ll find Dean. Get to the others and warn them.” you demanded

They just stood blinking at you, they were remembering Dean’s words. They weren’t supposed to leave you alone. Not when he wasn’t around.

“But Dean sai-”

“I know what Dean said Cas.” you scolded, “But now I’m telling you to go. Tell them to get out of here.”

There were too many of them, snapping their jaws for any bit of flesh. The ammunition was running out and it was getting dark. There was no way for everyone to walk away alive.

Dean and you were back to back, the flesh eaters had you both cornered. They could smell you because you were bleeding but Dean didn’t know that, not yet.

“Dean,” you tangled your fingers with his and squeezed, “You gotta go. Save them and save yourself. You tell Sammy to take care of Jess. You take care of each other. You hear me?”

He turned to face you, confusion etched on his face, as he cupped the back of your neck roughly and brought his lips to yours, “What are you saying Y/N? It’s not too late, we’ve had worse.”

“It’s too late for me Baby.” you lifted your arm up, showing him the bloody teeth marks, “I got bit.”

“No, no-” he was panicking, tears hanging heavy in the rims of his eyes.

“I always said I’d go out guns blazing.” You grinned, blowing a kiss before you lifted your gun to your temple, “Come get me you son’s of bitches.” you let out one last whistle drawing the flesh eaters out of the shadows and to you.

Dean’s screams and Sam’s voice as he dragged him away from you was the last thing that filled your ears before everything went black.

“Going, going to Chicago… Going to Chicago… Sorry but I can’t take you… Going down… going down now… going down….”

[jayankles]

Knight in Distress.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 5378 <--- longest fic ever, yay me

Warnings: ANGST, fluff.

A/N – This is my submission for @chaos-and-the-calm67 #Bev’s Milestone Challenge – the prompt and (3rd) gif is bolded and below. This also works for @mamapeterson  / @mrs-squirrel-chester ’s #SPN FAMILY LOVE AND ACCEPTANCE DAY 2017 challenge(sorta)  based on 12x03 - The Foundry.

Part of my on going series - Daddy’s Nugget.

Opening the door to your daughter's room, you peeked around the wooden frame, in search of her. 'Lizzie? Baby, are you ready? We gotta leave soon to see grandma and grandpa.' 'Mama! I need my coat! I can't find my coat!' She screamed, frantically pacing back and forth at the foot of her bed. 'Just grab your bag, I got your coat.' You assured her. 'You didn't take anything out of you bag did you?'

Lizzie bit her lip and looked down at her feet, her wiggling toes concealed by her booties, now holding more appeal than her mothers gaze, your gaze. 'Lizzie?!' You mustered up your best, stern voice, obviously it was working as she stumbled over her words as she tried to explain. 'I - uh - may have taken out my, uh, snacks and my iPod.' She narrowed her eyes, squinting off in the distance, the area behind you becoming her focal point. 'Please don't say what I think you're going to say.' She giggled innocently, you knew better, 'I ate them. And I listened to my music, I think it died.' 'Lizzie!' You huffed and rolled your eyes, 'you know I love you but you're just a pain in the ass, you got that from your daddy.' She looks up into your eyes and pouts as if she's about to cry. Please don't, you inwardly think. 'I'm sorry, mommy. I got hungry and I was bored and excited, so I listened to my music until I fell asleep.' She rushed out, hiccuping between every other word. 'Alright, it's okay. Come 'ere, kid.' Quickly, she ran to you her arms wrapping around your waist as her head lie against your stomach. Untangling yourself from her, you lifted her into your arms and held her close to you, her face buried in your neck. 'You know what your daddy does when you were upset?' 'Give me want I want until I stopped asking?' Her statement coming out with hesitation. You laughed at her honesty, not expecting that to come out of her mouth. 'Yes but when you were younger he would sing 'Hey Jude,' and you were out like a light. You were all snugly in his arms and when we tried to put you to bed you wouldn't let go of daddy. Had to have you sandwiched between us.' 'I can't remember.' She whispered hoarsely against your skin - you almost missed it - twisting the strands of your hair between her fingers. You hummed, setting her feet firmly in the ground again. 'You wouldn't, you were either too little or too tired. Maybe you could ask him when we get back to sing it for you? And as for the snacks and your iPod, we've got a car charger and we'll just go to the store on the way there, so you don't have to be upset, okay?' She nodded. You told her to finish getting ready and to come to the kitchen when she was ready so she could have breakfast and say goodbye to Dean.

You walked into the kitchen seeing that Sam and Dean were already dressed, sitting up the table with breakfast already scattered across the table.

'Hey Sam. Morning Dean.' Before you could walk off to do yourself some toast, you were pulled into his lap, unexpectedly, an involuntary squeal leaving your lips. 'Please don't, it's only the morning and I'm not ready to throw up just yet.' Sam sighed talking to the ceiling. You secured your arms around Dean's neck, for balance and comfort, and rested your forehead against his own. 'I'm gonna miss you.' 'Sam you might wanna get outta here.' Dean suggested. 'Can you just not?' 'I'm gonna be without her for a few days, need to make it up to her.' Dean pulled you tighter as Sam rolled his eyes at you. The latter whining as you planted a kiss on the former's lips. 'Shut up Sam, you see us kiss all the time!' You mentioned. 'Besides aren't you going to miss me, I'm a delight to be around.' He chuckled at your words and continued to dig into his breakfast. Too occupied to know anything more, your lips returned to Dean's, lips curling upwards as the long, deep kisses transformed into short, quick pecks all over your face. You were only going for a week, but to you knew it would feel like an eternity without Dean, as ridiculous as it sounded, you needed him, you especially hated when he went in hunt that lasted longer than necessary. Thoughts flew around your head, whether or not he was even alive what the main question that nagged you, floating around in the back of your mind, every time he wasn't home at the bunker. You shook the thought from your mind, not wanting to be upset, if you did that you were just torturing yourself and you knew that Dean could see the distant look on your face and the change in the atmosphere. You had gone into the dark place. Dean stopped kissing you, he bought his hand up to cup and cradle your face, thumb swiping over your cheekbone to bring you back to the here and now, to the present, to the safe place. ‘What have you found on her majesty’s secret service suck bags’ Dean asks as he pulls away from your lips. Sam sighed. ‘I turned the bunker upside down looking for any reference whatsoever to the British Men of Letters, all I found was this letter tucked into an old ledger from the London chapter house.’ ‘‘kay, well that’s somethin’.’ He questions positively. Sam huffs as he reveals his discovery. ‘Yeah, not so much.’ He twists the letter between his fingers and you notice that the letter is mostly blacked, the majority of it contents sworn to secrecy, no way of declaring, or making the hunters aware of what happened or what to do. You hate to admit it but the British Men of Letters did a damn good job. ‘Awesome.’ He really does say that a lot, you inwardly muse. ‘Morning Sunshine.’ Turning to see Castiel in the doorway, you ask, ‘you want some coffee?’ ‘no, thank you, I have to go.’ His lips quirk into a grateful smile even though he politely declines your offer for the hot beverage. The three of you shrug to each other, bewildered as you share a look between you, before Sam and Dean follow Cas out into the hallway. ‘Hey.’ ‘Cas, wait.’ The brothers both say simultaneously. ‘Where you off to?’ The seraph doesn't seemed fazed by the inquiry. ‘Cleveland, Ohio. I think I may have a lead on Lucifer. I found a police report about a man whose eyes flared a glowing red. Could be Lucifer in a new body.’ ‘We should check it out.’ Dean interjects. Cas is adamant as he quickly retorts. ‘No the devil is free because of me, finding him is my responsibility.’ ‘But you’re gonna need some back up on this.’ ‘If it is him, I will call you. In the meantime, I think you are needed here.’ The Angel squints and makes his exit. ‘What the hell was that about?’ Dean obvious confusion evident in his voice. ‘Mom.’ Sam simply states. ‘What are you talking about Mom’s fine.’ ‘You sure? I heard her walk around all night. You think she seems a bit withdrawn...shaky?’ ‘of course she’s shaky. She hasn’t been around since Jane Fonda been wearin’ leg warmers all she needs is a little R&R, some family time, she’ll be aces.’ Mary walks in, dressed and ready to go, her hair cropped short, it's a good look for her. 'Morning Mary.' 'Good morning, (Y/N).' She smiles at you, then turns her attention to the table, where the bacon is sitting, grabbing the first crispy piece she can get her hands on. ‘We can fry up some more, that stuff is probably cold by now.’ Sam offers. ‘It’s bacon.’ She smirks. ‘Wow, we are so related.’ Dean smiles as he looks between the three of you. 'No shit, Sherlock, she's your mom.' You giggle, rolling your eyes at him, a mechanism that you seem to use a lot around him. Sam’s head tilts a little as he examines his mom’s new appearance. ‘Did you cut your hair?’ ‘Wanted to keep it short, if i’m on a hunt. Don’t wanna give the bad guys an advantage of long, pullable hair, right?’ You had to agree with the woman. Although you never hunted, you understood her train of thought and where she was coming from. ‘I’ve been trying to tell Sam that for years.’ Slapping the older Winchester in the back of the head, you told him to 'stop it.' ‘Did you say going out on a hunt?’ ‘I found a case.’ She shrugs, wiping the grease off of her top lip with her pinky finger. ‘I thought you were still struggling with even the idea of the internet?’ Sam shakes his head in confusion. 'Okay, this seems like family hunting business, so I'm going to go check on Lizzie, see how she is before we go.' You collected the toast you had made and started to nibble on, putting it on a plate and making your way out. But not before you kissed him one last time, whispering against his lips that you loved him. Once you were gone, Mary continued. ‘I had Dean pick up some newspapers when he went into town.’ Dean goes into defensive mode. ‘Woah, woah. You didn’t tell me you were looking for a case.’ His face contorts, clearly distressed thinking that Sam would blame him if his mother dived right back into hunting straight away. ‘I wasn’t! I just found one. Minnesota. Two dead, locked room, victims had put in a call about a crying baby, the place was empty, the only one thing at the scene was their bodies, it’s been 5 days and the coroner still hasn’t put out the cause of death. Seemed fishy...It’s probably nothing, I just thought I’d get out there, stretch my legs.’ ‘I-I thought you-you weren’t down to hunt in the first place?’ ‘Things change right? Family hunting trip?' Dean asks his mother and younger brother. ‘Sure.’ Mary easily concedes before walking out of the room, leaving her sons to their own devices. Dean's answer comes out much more enthusiastic than you would have thought possible. ‘Alright, meet in the car in ten.’ ‘What about the R&R?’ Sam whisper shouts to his older brother. ‘Look, man, Cas healed your s'mores foot, all right? I got Baby back to mint. We're road ready. If mom wants to hunt, I say we hunt.’ He motions to the table, clearly indicating that Sam should clean the table before they leave. 'Yeah you got this...I gotta go say bye to my girls.' He jogged to Lizzie's room the one he'd hoped you would both be in, which you were. Your back was to him so he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist, linking his fingers together. Yelping in surprise, you quickly relaxed into his touch, practically melting into his embrace. Your head rests on his shoulder, one hand rubs over his forearms as the other makes it way to the nape of his neck, playing with the short strands located there. 'Daddy!' Dean's little girl squeals with delight as the sight of her father. Your little moment with him is interrupted, he plants a kiss on your neck and releases you, just in time to catch Lizzie, who jumped straight into his arms. 'Hey Nugget, you almost ready? Because Daddy's gotta go in a few minutes.' 'you got a case, huh?' She frowns playing with his ears, a fascination she has always had when she was becoming upset and in her father's presence. She clings to him tighter not wanting to part just yet with him. She knows that his job is dangerous, that he might not come back so when he does tell her that he is leaving, she pours in every single piece of love she feels for him; nothing more, nothing less. 'I'm sorry, princess.' He states sincerely. He tells her that he should be back in a few days, assures her - assuring the both of you. You know it's for his benefit. He wants to have a normal life, one without monsters, where he can life in piece, without constantly having to look over his shoulders and be scared that his family would be taken from him. He wants it. So badly craves it. But he knows he can't have a completely normal life. The closest to normal he is going to get is hunting monsters while he had Sam by his side, his mom back in his life and, you and Lizzie and any newcomers that you hope would join the party of three later on. He knows he can't leave this life, he can't abandon it because he knows what's out there. And quite frankly, he can't leave this life because he believes he's damn good at it. He knows he's a damn good hunter. It kills him every time he has to leave but you have convinced him that he makes the world a safer place, not just for himself and his family but for the others in this world that get caught up and tangled with the murders and crimes that the monsters, whether people believe in them of not, commit. 'It’s okay, daddy. You're a superhero and you have to save the world.' She’s determined to let him know, she was never old enough to understand until now, and it just puts a smile on his face. If he can appear a superhero in the eyes of his daughter, it’s all worth it. 'Don't you forget that, baby girl. Anytime you are in trouble, I'll always come to your rescue. You got it?' She nods, 'okay but you gotta pinky swear and lock it in. You remember what we do?' She repeats the previous action and sticks out her pinky immediately, waiting for Dean to do the same. When he does, their pinkies interlock, they then bring their fists up and kiss their own respective thumbs. They stick their thumbs together in a silent promise and rest their head against each other's. It's always been their thing, it has been their secret little handshake that everyone knows about but can't copy or repeat the action with anyone else, including you apparently. You stand back as they interact with each other, she's always been a daddy's girl. Tears threaten to spill, you don't know why, but they just do. You wipe away the no existent tears before the water begin to trail from your eyes, the precipice almost breaking. 'Shall we go say bye to daddy, Sammy and grandma Mary before they go?' You asked her as they pulled apart from each other. 'Yeah!' Dean didn't release Lizzie, instead, his grip tightened until the three of you reached the garage. Lizzie wiggled free as she walked through the doors. Spotting her uncle, she ran to him colliding with the back of his legs. Caught off guard, his knees buckled, nearly causing him to fall forward. He quickly regained his balance. Sam spun his torso around and saw his niece, holding to his long legs. Reaching behind him, he one handedly hauled Lizzie off of her feet by her waist, she squealed in surprise as she was turned upside down and Sam started to tickle her sides. 'Uncle Sammy...Stop...I can't... I can't breathe!'Her small, sweet giggles turn into obnoxiously loud cackles and you may think that sound is your new favourite; it shows that she’s truly happy to be around her family. Watching the two play around, your arms wrapped around Dean's waist, playing with the lapel of his jacket. 'We made her. Just saying.' 'I gotta say something.' He sounds hesitant but his words flow easily from his mouth. You acknowledged his words with a hum and looking into his eyes as he spoke. 'I'm proud of us. I'm amazed that someone like you could love a monster like me.' 'Dean-' you interrupt. 'No, let me finish.' His tone was soft yet demanding, 'we made something so pure, so precious, and for that I owe you my life and so much more.' 'You done can I talk now?' Your attitude shining through as you raise your eyebrow at him and purse your lips. His brows creased as he nodded at you, signalling that you could continue. ‘You, Dean Winchester, are not a monster, you are anything but that. Did you not listen to Lizzie? You are a superhero whether you like it or not. And if I have to tell you every day then so be it. You are the good guy in this. You’ve been to hell, for gods sake, you went to purgatory. You were a demon for crying out loud. You’ve had a weight on your shoulder since you were four years old. Dean, you practically raised Sam, you were bringing up Ben even when you didn’t know whether or not he was yours. You, Dean Winchester, are the bomb dot com. You are the most amazing human being I have ever met. How could you even think something like that? A fucking monster?' You scoff. 'The only thing that makes you a monster was when you listen to Taylor Swift and didn't change it over. Anyway, my point is, I love you for you. You have overcome all these shitty obstacles and you're still here and you are stronger for it. In my eyes you are so perfect, you're an adorable little bean.' He smiles, flashing you his perfect teeth and deep dimples. Show you exactly what you wanted to see. 'Yep, that right there,' you point to his smiling face, 'is one of the many reasons that I fell in love with you.' 'It wasn't my charming good looks and smooth moves.' Waggled his eyebrows at you. You grip him tighter, burying your face in his chest, laughing at him. 'That was how you reeled me in but I stayed because you treated me like queen and even though we fight I just know that I can't live without you and our little family over there,' you gesture to your daughter and her uncle, Mary watching them for where she was standing, leaning against Baby. 'Alright, stop with the sap, you little shit otherwise I'm going to cry and you know I have to keep up appearances and be the tough guy.' He shrugs Your clasp on him loosens, hands trailing over stomach, - the muscles going taut, reacting to your touch - running up to his chest, fingers tracing the where his tanned skin met his grey tee. Dean sighed at the contact and pressed his forehead to yours, perfectly content with just staying in the bunker with you, in that moment. Leaning forward, your noses bumped together making you smile. You were definitely going to miss moments like these. His arms wrapped around waist tighter, pulling you further into him. You rose so you were stretched in your toes, the action pressing your mouths together, your breaths mingling as both you and Dean passionately kissed. When you eventually pulled away for breath, your lips slanted against his one more time, a quick kiss; you just couldn’t get enough of him. 'You better go,' you reluctantly advised, your arms tracing over the shoulders of his green canvas jacket, 'say goodbye to Lizzie and I'll say bye to Sam and your mom.' Sam had just put Lizzie back on the ground, giving we a little time to recover, ‘see ya soon, shorty.’ She and Sam share a hug that lasts a few seconds before she ran straight into the arms of Dean. You quickly said goodbye to Sam and Mary before they had all jumped into the impala, waiting for Dean. 'Hey Dean?' 'Yeah, sweetheart?' His voice grave and deep, making you almost melt right then and there. 'If you need me, I'll come straight away. I don't care what time it is, you tell me when and where and I'll be there, we'll be there. I’ll sew you up even though it grosses me out.' You shivered, even at the thought of it. 'I'll keep that in mind but I'll be fine.' With that, Dean got into the car and pulled out of the garage, honking his horn signalling their departure and final goodbye. You guided Lizzie back to her room to grab her belongings for the week. She hauled her rucksack onto her back and tried to drag her duffel which you instantly took from her, it was way too heavy for her smaller stature. Most of your bags were already in your car so you didn't need to worry too much about that. The last things to grab were your keys, phone, purse, and shoulder bag. Once those were on your person, you were ready to go, trailing behind your daughter up the stairs. The bunker was warded and locked up, there was no way anyone could get in. Luckily it was only a two hour journey to get to Manhattan, Kansas so you could stop off at the supermarket and finally be on your way.

Three days later...

The hunt was successful. If is wasn't for Mary intuition to go back to the house, the brothers would have thought the case was over, after just burning the Lucas Kellinger's bones, the myling that was attached to Hugo Moriarty’s spirit. ‘Well are you gonna take a shower or a nap, you really went through it today.’ ‘Nah, I’m okay.’ Mary replied gently. ‘And erm, listen apologies, if me and sam hijacked or sidelined ya in anyway, this was your case, you know, and you kicked ass.’ ‘I kicked ass? You saved me.’ She half heartedly exclaims. ‘Yeah but you were right, you know, those kids were innocent. We didn’t even know what Moriarty’s deal was.’ ‘I do. When he possessed me, I saw, I felt it, all of it. When Hugo lost his child, he went mad, buried himself alive in his basement and walled himself in and starved to death’ ‘Damn.’ ‘But when new families moved in, families with children, he coveted those children, so he took them, killed them and somehow that bound their spirits to his, that’s where he got his power. He was so greedy...twisted.’ ‘Mom it’s okay. Alright? You’re home now.’

‘No’ Mary looks down at her feet, saddened and embarrassed as she chooses her next words. ‘I’m not. I miss John. I miss my boys.’ Sam walks in, pushing his hair behind his ears, overhearing his mother. ‘We’re right here mom.’ ‘I know. In my head. But i’m still mourning them as I knew them, my baby Sam and my little boy Dean. Just feels like yesterday, we were together in heaven and now I’m here and John is gone and they’re gone. Every moment I spend with you reminds me, every moment I lost with them. And I thought hunting, working, would clear my head.’ Mary looks around at the boys. Dean feels as if he can’t breathe, he’s just got his mother back, the one that’s been dead for over thirty years, and now she says that she doesn’t want to be with them. It’s like a punch to the gut, it’s something that Dean won’t be able to understand. ‘Mom, what are you trying to say?’ ‘I have to go. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I just need a little time.’

Mary steps towards Dean, but his emotions are running high; he’s hurt and he’s fuming. He backs away from her refusing any contact  with her; eye contact and physical contact. Their mother stops and looks at him for a moment before turning and picking up their late father’s journal. She has the nerve to go to Sam, but it’s not her Sam, not the six month old child that she remembers. She hugs him tightly, whispering that she loves him, she shuffles out of the embrace and turns to face Dean once more.

‘I love you both.’

Dean acknowledges her words with a small nod, his lips drawn into a thin line, but, her words, they don’t mean anything, you know the saying actions speak louder than words. Her actions are killing him on the inside, but the words in his head revolves around the same sentences.

‘You’re not good enough Dean. Sooner or later, everyone leaves.’

He doesn’t know which hurts more.

Mary returns to the table and stuffs her husband’s journal into her bag and makes her way up the stairs, her decision clearly made. Sam jumps at the sound of the heavy metal door slamming, no one could have prepared for the pain that followed when Amara brought back their mother.

You are just about finished with eating dinner with your family. It's been a long time since you have seen them, estimated around a year. You remember to tell Lizzie stories about them, show them pictures of who your family are; what they look like, what they are to you. She's quite good at remembering names and faces. It's hard after a long period of time away from them but she quickly recalls them after another introduction. She runs towards your brother as he rounds the corner. Her eyes light up at the sight and Jake plasters a genuine smile on his face, happy to see his bouncing baby niece.

Your other family feels a little resented, but they understand that her small mind cannot obtain all information. She takes time to warm up to the others, slowly but surely she break out of her shell. She cuddles against her grandparents, aunties and uncles, and her cousins up until dinner is ready and she climbs into the seat in between you and Jake. Your phone sings and you beam as Dean's name flashes across the screen. Excusing yourself from the table, you answer the phone a chirp in your voice that is covered by the food that you haven't yet swallowed. He sniffles on the other end and your happiness dissipates, obviously something is wrong. Dean clears his throat and takes his time, he murmurs your name hoarsely and it breaks your heart. 'Please don't leave me.' He whispers. Dean's behaviour is abnormal, you know about his self loathing and the way he puts himself down but it never been this bad that he has called you when you offered for him to call you. He always been so put together, takes it in his stride and takes full responsibility for his or anyone else's actions. He's never sounded so broken and that rips your heart to shreds. 'Dean, what's going on? What would make you think I would leave you? Why are you saying this?' Your voice is cracking as you start to panic. 'Mary's gone, she left. Said she needed space. Did I do something wrong?’

You note that he called her Mary, not mom.

'Dean, no, you didn't. It's not because of you! Are you at the bunker?' He hesitated his response, 'yeah, got here a few hours ago. All in one piece, mostly.' Apart from his heart that has been shattered. The mom that he had imagined, created, and grown to love, was just that. She was a figure of perfection that was made up from his four year old brain. 'Okay baby, we're coming home now okay, see you in a few.' Before you could hang up, he quickly stopped you from doing so. '(Y/N), wait! I love you.' His last words were mumbled, but you could still hear them perfectly, before he abruptly pressed the button to end the call not giving you anytime to respond as you mull over his words. You rushed into the dining room where everyone was settled in their seats still. Their animated conversation came to a halt upon your return.

‘Mom, Dad, I’m sorry. Lizzie and I have to go. Something happened with Dean’s mom.’

‘Oh God, sweetie, is she okay?’

‘I’m not sure but I promise I will come back and I will keep you both posted, we just gotta go.’

‘Alright, just be safe okay?’ You kissed your parents and waved goodbye to the rest of your family, making your way home to where your knight in distress was.

You were home within an hour and a half, thanks to your crazy, but safe, driving and light traffic. You rushed into kitchen, where you knew he would be sporting a bottle of whiskey in hand.

Lizzie ran into his arms, which he just had enough time to put the bottle to the side. She giggled as he buried his face in her neck, his slight beard that starting to grow, poking and scraping against her soft skin.

You sunk down on the floor next to them, your legs outstretched and automatically tangling with his.

‘Let’s go to bed.’ You whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder momentarily.

Your daughter slides off of him and grapples at his hand, pulling him up easily with your teamwork and his co-operation. He picks her up and settles her on his hip as he leads you to your shared bedroom.

Drawn into each other, Lizzie is sandwiched between the two of you and Dean’s arm reaches over Lizzie’s small body and drapes over your waist, on the bed. He grips your hip, afraid that your are going to be ripped away from him, much like his mother. That was a mistake and a choice she made. Sleep came quickly to you, being surrounded by the people you love. But, Dean on the other hand, had his eyes open just staring at your and his daughter’s sleeping figures. He was scared. He believe that, although you came back to comfort him, you would just up and leave, he wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers, not when his mother had just left him.

He extricated himself from his daughter’s killer clutch on him, rolling her to her opposite side so that she could cling to you.

He strolled over to your side of the bed and couched down, amiring the frown on your face as you peacefully slept, his favourite dimple appeared as your twisted to lay on your back; the one between your brows when they creased closer together. Dean couldn’t stop his arm as it shot out and his finger gently traced and caressed the shape of your jaw. Your eyes fluttered open at his actions and a smile graced your face.

People pretty much hear what they want to hear, see what they want to see and believe what they want to believe. And he guessed he fell into that trap aswell. He wanted to believe that everyone in his life would leave, just like his mother. He believed that everyone he got close to would end up dead. But there was a selfish part of him, a selfish part of both of you that you couldn’t do without each other and then Lizzie was brought into the world, although it wasn’t planned she was the best thing that had ever happened to the both of you. She brought the both of you closer together. It gave Dean a reason to live. It gave Dean a reason to believe that something good can happen in his life. His insecurities were reduced but were still there, especially after what had happened a mere few hours ago.

‘Dean, I’m not going anywhere. Two reasons; on, I love you too much to leave you and two, I’m too lazy.’

Dean smiled at your humour even when you were half asleep, he was convinced you were funnier when you were half awake but that was something he would never tell you; he would get a punch to the gut, and that was way worse that what the monsters would have done.

He was just glad that you had kept the promise you made all those years ago.

Dean Tags: @thewayward-winchesters-blog @thorne93 @becaamm @you-know-whodoesthat-crazypeople @jotink78 @love-kittykat21 @jensen-jarpad @hymnofthevalkyries @marvelbase001 @kurosaki224-new-blog @supernatural-jackles @cyrilconnelly @purgatoan @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @iwantthedean @goody2shoessmut @ruprecht0420 @mrswhozeewhatsis @feelmyroarrrr @redlipstickandplaid @mogaruke @anotherhunter @sometimes-iwritee @caplanbuckybarnes @pureawesomeness001 @mizzezm @jpadjackles @jesspfly @1amluke @skybinx-blog @aubzylynn @balthazars-muse @deansbaekaz2y5 @plaidstiel-wormstache @lilasiannerd 

You asked: @superwhomerlockinuum @carbonated-beverage @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @elwenia @bands-and-shietz @avengers-assembliing @thebookisbtr

Might be interested: @daydreamingintheimpala @dancingalone21 @bringmesomepie56 @frickfracklesackles @idreamofhazel @impalaimagining @kas-not-cas @sleepywinchester @grace-for-sale @impala-dreamer @percywinchester27 @blacktithe7 @winchesterenthusiast

[cajunquandary]

The Last Book on the Shelf

Characters: Reader Insert, Sam, Dean, Castiel and Crowley briefly mentioned

Word count: 1400

Warnings: Short and bittersweet; Flangst (Fluff and angst all mushed together), death

Summary: The reader has lived with the Winchesters for a few years when they finally get to take a real vacation together and go to the Gulf Coast. 

A/N: I wrote this for Bev’s Milestone Celebration with a gif and the prompt, “The waves rise and fall and crash in a gentle rhythm, and I can almost forget. I get to the lighthouse, turn around, and my footsteps are already gone. I like that. But there are certain things you can’t erase…” I couldn’t get the song “I Hope You’re the End of My Story” by the Pistol Annies out of my head while writing this so… Sorry! Thank you @chaos-and-the-calm67 for hosting this challenge. I never write in present tense, so this was truly a challenge! 

Loving a Winchester is more than a full time job. Loving two takes everything. It requires all of your motivation, dedication, and consideration. Don’t forget the pie. Don’t leave boots in the walkway. Keep the alcohol reserve as stocked as possible. Wash Baby gently with clockwise motions, not counter clockwise, and for the love of Chuck, never in straight lines. Always order extra fries, especially when getting milkshakes. Don’t tease Dean about his collection of tiny things—tiny alcohol bottles, tiny hotel soaps, tiny army men, tiny books, tiny baby socks, etc. Don’t dry Sam’s clothes in a machine, otherwise they shrink too much. It’s always okay to sing Zepplin in the shower—in fact, it’s practically an invitation. The only thing that comes out of these showers with the boys are soap fights and occasional slippery falls and bruises that last three weeks. Sometimes, someone ends up sleeping on the floor or in the Impala at motels. Dean tosses and turns, Sam snores really loud, and I yell in my sleep. No matter what, they tell me “you’re never alone.” I’ve learned that when you’re family and things get bad, really bad, it’s okay; even when there is rage and hurt there is forgiveness and love. From the day the boys welcomed me home to the day we all go home for that final time, nothing in this world could separate us.

Until now.

“I hope you’re the end of my story

I hope you’re as far as it goes

I hope you’re the last word I ever utter

It’s never your time to go”

I stand looking out over the Gulf, the wind seeming to flow right through me. Only about fifty yards to my left, Sam and Dean frolic in the waist-deep swell. It’s apparent that an argument has spurred an altercation—something to do with Dean, an angry crustacean, and Sam’s rear. I laugh until my belly shakes watching the two idjits trying to drown each other, my voice carried by the salty breeze toward shore. How nice it is to have a weekend to ourselves! I’ve lived with the boys for a few years now. Vacations really aren’t our thing, but after the last few hunts and close calls, we’d decided on some family time, at least for a day or two. It helps that the world is quiet right now—no monster activity as far as we can tell. I know when we return, there will probably be more cases than we can handle, but for now I try to enjoy the moment and the cold beer in the sand by my bare feet. The road’s been long and hard for us all. Sometimes, it’s hard for us to remember why we do this, risk everything for people who often don’t know or don’t care, but then something happens to remind us. This trip is more about a celebration that we are still here, still together, than it is a vacation. Or maybe that’s what vacation means? I never really understood the word anyway.

“Sometimes this road that we travel

Feels like it’s leading us on

And spinnin our wheels just stirs up the gravel

Before you know it, it’s gone”

I remember when I met the Winchesters a few years back. I’d just been attacked and my best friend killed by a werewolf when I called a coworker to come pick me up from the police station. My eyes were still pouring tears when the black car had rolled up, and I launched myself at the young man getting out of the vehicle before realizing that it wasn’t my colleague, but a kind stranger who happened to have just killed the beast in question. In fact, I didn’t notice whose arms I’d collapsed in until my blubbering calmed after about an hour or so. Surely Chuck played a hand in that debacle, probably with a trigger happy Cupid. Before any of us knew what happened, we couldn’t imagine this life apart.

“I hope you’re the end of my story

I hope you’re as far as it goes

I hope you’re the last word I ever utter

It’s never your time to go”

I like taking pictures of everything—the boys of course, but also the places we go, the people we save, and sometimes I catch a frame or two of a monster before we gank ‘em. Instead of a typical hunter’s journal, I keep a memory book of sorts. Or the Encyclopedia of Crazy as Dean likes to call it. Sam helps me with the written entries since my memory isn’t quite what it used to be (after so many concussions and mini-stroke.) Dean flips through it at night when he thinks everyone is asleep, sneaking it off of its place as the last book on the shelf in the library, eyes glued to the pages, sometimes laughing quietly or tearing up or both. Altogether, I like to see my book more as a memoir of us—even titled “The Adventures of Moose, Squirrel, Feathers, and Y/N/N,” with a special dedication to Pitchfork and entire sections for friends both here and on the other side. Even in just a few short years, the bindings strain with overabundance of entries and attachments, but perhaps the most important one of all is the letter I wrote for the boys after my first near-death experience working a case with them.

“I’ll keep on turning the pages

Oh what a story to tell

You’ll still be my sweetheart when everything ages

You’ll be the last book on the shelf”

It’s a silly, sad, sappy letter that I sometimes carry with me when we leave the safety of the bunker, just in case I don’t make it back. Out of habit, my hand moves to the pocket in my flannel the letter rests in, a frayed corner just sticking out of the top. Sam teased me earlier about wearing a long sleeve flannel shirt and bikini to the beach, how ridiculous I looked, but Dean had just smiled and slung his own shirt back over his shoulders, daring Sammy to chase him into the cool waves of the November currents. I’d been slower to join them at first, migraine morphing my sense of the world around me. For some time, the shells under my feet and roar of something grand and ancient filled my sensitive ears with comfort. I’m strolling along again, closing the distance between my feet and the lighthouse, the boys somewhere behind me now. The waves rise and fall and crash in a gentle rhythm, and I can almost forget. I get to the lighthouse, turn around, and my footsteps are already gone. I like that. But there are certain things you can’t erase, like loving a Winchester.

“I hope you’re the end of my story

I hope you’re as far as it goes

I hope you’re the last word I ever utter

It’s never your time to go”

I can feel the eyes of the waiting reaper on the back of my head as it peers down from the top of lighthouse. Sunset is almost over, casting long, dark shadows across the sand and my crumpled body in the distance. I’m so thankful that the Gulf is louder than the wails of Winchesters as they shake my empty body. The pain is gone, it left some time while I was remembering. I guess that’s what they mean when they say your life flashes before your eyes. And my reaper has some sort of humor for choosing a lighthouse. Walk into the liiiiight, right? I know it’s my time to go, peace is already filling my soul. I hope it’s a long time before I see a Winchester wherever I’m going, but before I go with my reaper, I do my best to project my voice through the veil.

“Dean… Sam… See you on the flipside, bitches.”

In the last light before I fade, I catch the boys looking all around, then to each other, as if they’d heard me loud and clear.

“I hope you’re the last words I ever utter

It’s never your time to go”

(Have some crychesters because I’m feeling sad and kinda evil)

TAG LIST:

@supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @aseasyasdeanspie @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79 @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0 @impala-dreamers-mainfrigginblog @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @akshi8278

@chaos-and-the-calm67

NO SMUT:

@deathtonormalcy56 @rednecktex

[techsciresearch]

Indonesia Two Wheeler Market to Cross $ 10 Billion Milestone by 2025 – TechSci Research

Rising demand for economical and personal transportation to boost two wheeler market in Indonesia

According to TechSci Research report, “Indonesia Two-Wheeler Market By Vehicle Type, By Engine Capacity, By Region, Competition, Forecast & Opportunities, 2025”, Indonesia two wheeler market is anticipated to grow to $ 10 billion by 2025 on account of surging demand for economical transportation. Increase in consumer spending, increasing number of female riders, improving road infrastructure and growing popularity of credit facilities are the other key factors responsible for growth of two wheelers market in Indonesia. Indonesia two wheeler market is categorized based on vehicle type, engine capacity, and region. Based on vehicle type, the market is segmented into scooters, motorcycles and mopeds. Scooter segment holds the majority share and is expected to grow at a stable rate during the forecast period. Motorcycles held the second largest share in 2019 but their popularity is decreases amongst Indonesian customers due to their shifting interest towards automatic two wheelers. Hence, market share of the motorcycle segment is expected to depreciate over the next five years.

Browse 37 market data Figures and Tables spread through 70 Pages and an in-depth TOC on "Indonesia Two Wheeler Market"

 https://www.techsciresearch.com/report/indonesia-two-wheeler-market/3196.html

In terms of engine capacity, vehicles are categorized into three groups, first engines that are less than 150 cc, then engines with displacement between 151 cc and 250 cc and at last engines with displacement above 250cc. Light weight scooters being most popular amongst Indonesian people, hold the maximum share. In terms of by region, the market is segmented into Java, Sumatra, Kalimanthan, Sulawesi, Maluka & Papua, and Bali & Nusa. Java and Sumatra are the leading regional market in India tow wheelers market, with both the regions cumulatively accounting for more than three-fourth of the market share in 2019.

Download sample report  @ https://www.techsciresearch.com/sample-report.aspx?cid=3196

customers can also request for 10% free customization on this report.

Leading companies operating in Indonesia two wheeler market include Honda, Yamaha, Suzuki, Kawasaki, TVS, KTM, Bajaj, and Harley Davidson. Honda and Yamaha are the leading two wheeler brands operating in the country. “PT Astra Honda Motors dominated the two wheeler market in Indonesia in 2019, due to its huge dealer network and great product range that is just apt for Indonesian customers. Demand for two wheelers is anticipated to continue growing in the country over the next five years on account of increasing consumer preference for safer, economical and aesthetic two wheelers.”, said Mr. Karan Chechi, Research Director with TechSci Research, a research based global management consulting firm.

“Indonesia Two-Wheeler Market By Vehicle Type, By Engine Capacity, By Region, Competition, Forecast & Opportunities, 2025” has evaluated the future growth potential of Indonesia two-wheeler market and provides statistics & information on market size, structure and future market growth. The report intends to provide cutting-edge market intelligence and help decision makers take sound investment decisions. Besides, the report also identifies and analyzes the emerging trends along with essential drivers, challenges, and opportunities in Indonesia two wheeler market.

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 About TechSci Research

TechSci Research is a leading global market research firm publishing premium market research reports. Serving 700 global clients with more than 600 premium market research studies, TechSci Research is serving clients across 11 different industrial verticals. TechSci Research specializes in research based consulting assignments in high growth and emerging markets, leading technologies and niche applications. Our workforce of more than 100 fulltime Analysts and Consultants employing innovative research solutions and tracking global and country specific high growth markets helps TechSci clients to lead rather than follow market trends.

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[soldierwinterthe]

WIP Thing…

Do This: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever.

I was tagged by @aingealcethlenn (sorry for the delay)

SPN:

a few days without daddy. (Daddy!Dean Winchester x Reader)

The Reader and her daughters remain at the bunker, while Dean (their dad of course) and Sam are hunting.

you loved me once. (Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader) SMUT!

Dean does nothing but think about his previous life with the Reader. He can go back to love again, even if he is a demon?

oneshot untitled (for now) (Dean Winchester x Pregnant!Reader)

written for the ANA’s “Shit my patients say” Challenge.

oneshot untitled (for now) (Demon!Dean Winchester x Reader)

written for the Bev’s Milestone Challenge.

Others:

I’m the Alpha (Redemption Series: Part 3) (Derek Hale x Reader) SMUT!

oneshot untitled (for now) (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

A songfic based on “Something Just Like This” by The chainsmokers and Coldplay (and/or something else)

I tag (sorry if you already done): @hotwinchester @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @wonderange @chaos-and-the-calm67 @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @spnfeelstrain @sis-tafics

[supernaturallymarvellous]

Writing All The Things

Do This: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, art, vids, gifsets, whatever.

I was tagged by the wonderfully sweet @fandommaniacx

This is just a list of the challenge entries that I’m working on....I haven’t included anything from my ever-growing list of WIPs.  

Juju’s Fluffy Birthday Challenge (due 29/03) - hosted by @jared-padaloveme

It’s my wifey’s birthday shortly and she’s going to get a super fluffy fic which should hopefully make her smile.  It’s going to be Sam-centric and will include a couple of tropes which I know she loves.

30 Prompt Challenge (due 30/03) - hosted by @bkwrm523

This one has had me stumped for a little while but I finally have the basic plot written out and now I just need to work out the details. An added twist is that it has to start with the dialogue “What do you have against the number five?!”. Oh, and it’s going to be a Steve Rogers x reader fic.

Writing Box Challenge (due 30/04) - hosted by @therealdeanwinchester13

Another one that has got me thinking! I’m not sure which fandom I’m going to write this one for - my prompt lends itself very well to both Supernatural and Marvel so I need to put my thinking cap on and pin down exactly what I’m going to write!

Sam’s Birthday/Fluff Appreciation Challenge (due 02/05) - hosted by @sammyisapuppy 

In honour of Sam Winchester’s birthday, this fic is going to be a fluffy one based around the prompt “what shampoo do you use?”. Expect a drunken reader and a (hopefully) adorable Sam.

4k Follower Celebration (due 31/05) - hosted by @mrs-squirrel-chester

This wonderful challenge is an album writing challenge.  I’ve already plotted out the majority of my fics, all based around songs from Bastille’s album “Bad Blood”.  I doubt that I’ll have all 13 fics completed by the deadline but hopefully once they’re all finished, they should form a cohesive series, based around Tony Stark and the complex relationship he has with the reader, a fellow Avenger who has trouble dealing with life after the Battle of New York and the trauma the team goes through during that time.  

Bev’s Milestone Challenge (due 16/06) - hosted by @chaos-and-the-calm67​

My other wifey, my sweet beautiful Bev. She’s only gone a hit an amazing milestone and is celebrating by hosting a writing challenge.  I’ve got my prompt and then she went and gave me a gif which seems like she’s intentionally trying to break my heart and make me write angst.  Well, I’m going to use it and make it happy......ok, there might be a small amount of angst in there but I’m determined that this Sam Winchester x reader fic will make her smile.

I’m going to tag a handful of people - apologies if you’ve already done this: @waywardimpalawriter, @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel, @eileenlikesyou-maybe, @zepppie.....and anyone who sees this and would like to take part.

[growningupgeek]

One Shots MasterList

Here’s where you’ll find the oddball things: challenge fics, the odd request and shit I just felt like writing that didn’t become a series.

Death of a Hunter-Reader Insert Drabble. Character death.

You Don't Know- Sam x Reader. Fluffy sweetness that will rot your teeth

Love to Keep Me Warm-Sam X Reader(NSFW) My first attempt at smut.

Hold on to the Nights-Sam x Reader(angst)

Talking in Your Sleep-An Avengers drabble  Yes, I do write something other than Supernatural.  Occasionally 

This Ever Changing World-

Pushed through another door-Sam x Reader

How do we explain-Sam x Reader

Just Have Faith-Sam x Reader Written for Taylor's 2K follower/word challenge. Be warned this is angsty as hell.

A Night to Remember-Gabriel x Reader(NSFW) Written for Rose's 21st birthday drinking challenge. Smut.

Temption-Sam x Reader  Written for Taylor’s Concert Challenge  angst and fluff.

Burning Down the House-Angst Firefighter!Sam AU

Pranked-Sam x Reader, written for Hazel and Dreamer follower celebration

There For You-Sam x Eileen Written for Ash's Bon Jovi Challenge/Follower celebration

Eighteen and Life-Supernatural, no pairing. Written for Bev's Milestone Challenge.

Choices-Sam x reader. Written for Michelle's 2017 Louden Swain Mini Bang

Long Way- Supernatural, no pairing Written for Michelle's 2016 Louden Swain Challenge

Friends in Low Places-Supernatural Sam x reader, eventually 

Hunter’s Doctor- A rough hunt brings Sam and Dean to the door of a small town doctor with an interesting side line.

Eulogy- Star Wars. A reaction to the death of Carrie Fisher. 

The Darkside- Supernatural. Sam x reader. Angsty drabble written for Hel’s fucking GIF challenge.

Cross That Line(The Darkside Pt 2)-Sam X Reader More Angst

Night Calls- Dean x Reader. Written for Becca’s One Prompt for All Challenge. It’s not angst, fluff or smut. Make of it what you will.

Changing Fictions- written for @totallysupernaturaloneshots follower celebration. Sam x reader fluff with a side of philosophy. 

Colliding Worlds- My weird dreams became this drabble.  May be the start of a series.  

The Way it Ought to Be- Written for @sofreddie Ships Ahoy Challenge.  An angsty Saileen fic with a little side of fluff.  

Heart of Stone- Supernatural. Sam x Reader.  Written for Andi’s Back in the game challenge.  Fluff mostly.  

By Moonlight- Supernatural. Return to the bunker after 13 x 01. Spoiler alert!

Angsty fluff or fluffy angst.

A Brother’s Gift- Whatever happened to the giant slinky?  Tooth rotting drabble.

Magic and Madness-Written for the Diva’s of Storytelling challenge.  Inspired by Taylor Swift’s Blank Space.  Angst.

Fears-Written for Ana’s Percy Jackson Quotes challenge.  Reader who takes no shit. Sam x Reader 

The White Christmas Case- Supernatural, no pairing.  Written for Ash’s 12 Days of Christmas Challenge.

From the Bunker-My theroy about the MoL bunker

With a Little Help-Sam x reader.

Family Matters-Written for grace-for-sales 666 challenge.  Sister!Winchester

Breakdown Coda-My afterward to episode 13 x 11 Breakdown. May contain spoilers. 

Bring Me To Life- Written for Valentine Day.  The aftermath of Sam losing another woman he loved. 

Survivor-Injured during a werewolf hunt, the reader must deal with the aftermath and finding that Sam, who she thought long dead, is alive.

Amazing Grace-This comes from my complete inability to leave things alone. SPOILERS FOR “DEVIL’S BARGIAN”