Genevieve.

Jasper surprising visiting Gen while on tiny Mystic Falls business was for no real reason. Sure, there’s like a good three people he cares about in town and Gen just about makes that shortlist, but he wants to see her baby. He’s convinced that for some reason or not, that he has full rights as an Uncle and Godfather. The pure irony of him wanting to be Godfather. A demon. He didn’t care. He thought it was nice that at least someone could get out of the demon drama and live a nice lil house. He used to judge her for being with Sam but now he doesn’t mind. So long as the Winchester causes him no drama. He sat at the porch of her house. He could have broke in but that’s the old him and totally unnecessary to what he wants. Which is just to see her kid which he’s sure he can do if he just asks. Also, to check up on her. Or something. If he can admit he cares.  “Hey, Queen.” He greets with an obnoxious little wave of his fingers and a cocky smile. “Did you miss me?”    //   @milfwinchester​

Normally, Gen wouldn’t be so happy to see a demon, but Jasper was usually a different story. When he wasn’t annoying the shit out of her, at least. It went either way, depending on Jasper’s mood, it seemed. With the threat of Lucifer looming over her, Sam, and their little small town family, any information from a confidante could be helpful. Even though, like with most people, she didn’t trust Jasper 100%. Not because there was anything wrong with him, but because he was chaotic beyond her new means of daily living. She had no idea on how to be prepared for an antic, as amusing as it might be. She quirked an eyebrow at him, lifting her chin, and murmuring, “Yes?” she asked, expecting a request, before rolling her eyes at his question, “Sure, I did. You here to be a bitch or can I let you in?”

She audibly exhaled when she knew it was him. There was always a part of her that wasn’t sure, that knew Lucifer could play anyone and that Sam was his true vessel, and that feeling lingered deep under her psyche—Gen fought to push it down to that point. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her daughter. That seemed to be the one thing that could always make her and Sam smile despite the stress that they experienced. “You should also go back to bed, baby,” Gen told him, reaching up on her tiptoes to peck his chin, “I don’t think that I can sleep at the moment.” She admitted, hands and fingers tense. She cracked her wrist just to feel a second of relief, but the tension returned, as always. The least that she could do was sip her coffee and keep her husband company. She was worried about him, and she could tell that he was also worried about her. Which made her more worried about him. It was a cycle, and sometimes the silence and quiet moments were cherished for the pure fact that it might be horribly interrupted by something outside of their control.

things had been hard since sam and gen had discovered lucifer was back. despite working on it non-stop, sam could not figure out how he’d managed to bust out of the cage again. he’d exhausted himself with research and exhausted himself trying to protect his family. lucifer had left them alone since that first night, but the fear that he could come back at any time was alarming. sam felt like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t eat, couldn’t even sleep less something happen to his wife or his daughter. 

it was late at night, and sam was sat on the floor beside parkers cot, back against the wall and head resting against the wooden bars as he fought to keep his eyes open. azazel had come for him when he was a baby, leant over his crib and dripped demon blood into his mouth. the youngest winchester would be damned, if he ever let anything like that happen to his child, so he was watching over her as she slept soundly. 

@milfwinchester​

Gen wasn’t used to feeling fear in her daily life. And then she turned human. And then, she got pregnant. Since then, fear crept up in the most innocuous of places, slowly inching it’s way into her thoughts, intruding in her every day life. Something that she was used to fearing, though? Lucifer. It was second nature to her, for centuries, it was something that plagued her life. Even when Lucifer had set her free—well, he hadn’t really. He made sure that she knew it.

She felt the weight of the mattress release, eyes snapping open as she laid, facing the wall. She knew that it was just Sam getting up, but they both couldn’t sleep lately. Not in comfort, at least. Only out of necessity when exhaustion became too much to fight, and for Gen this was one of those nights, but she still got up, feet stabilizing on the chilly hardwood floor before she then went to check on her husband, trying to reassure herself her husband is what she would see. She exhaled, just a little, when he saw his frame over the crib, and leaned against the door frame, “At least she’s sleeping,” Gen commented, a tired smile managing to crack on her features.

The first thing he noticed about the woman was how hot she was. The second was that her blood didn’t smell human. That definitely ruined one of his plans. But Damon didn’t mind much when the person possibly ruining it was as gorgeous as the brunette. “That’s true.” He smirked. His eyes fell to her legs as she crossed them, shamelessly cheking her out, before moving his eyes slowly towards her eyes again. “Maybe I can buy a lady another drink, then.”

She knew she had him the moment that she spoke. She had most women, most men, hooked right from the get go. And if they didn’t react well to her? Well, that just meant Gen would do the world a favor and remove them from this Earth. Didn’t need all the stupidity anyway. Her pride and arrogance knew no bounds, to the point where that reaction was simply a knee jerk reflex, void of any though at all. “Good,” her head tilted, gestured to her empty glass, the corners of her lips turning up into a smirk, “I have been feeling a bit empty.”

She can’t help but bite the edge of her lower lip, her eyes flirtatious with the ever present wicked glint in her eye. She took another hefty sip, relishing in the smoky burn of alcohol before responding. “Clearly, as I’m talking to you,” she commented, a quirk of the eyebrow following soon after as she poured the rest of the bourbon back and swallowed in one, fluid motion. “A lady needs a drink,” she hinted at him, shifting to cross one bare leg over the other.

How are you? It was always a loaded question for Gen. Probably because when she said that she was good, she was good, for being herself, at least. The last half century was filled with so much chaos that being good usually meant that nothing was on fire. And—well, nothing was on fire, so that’s what she was going to go with. She exhaled, throwing her shoulders back, a smile creeping up on her tired features, “Good, I’m good,” she paused, feeling the need to explain but also not make it all about herself. Mostly because she didn’t think Elena needed to know, and the last thing a pregnant woman needed to wallow in someone else’s stress. “Yeah, it’s just been busy. Parker and the dogs have had my hands full. How about you, though? Dare I say—you’re glowing.”

A bit guilty for being so withdrawn, at least with meeting up in person, Gen sauntered over to her best friend’s house to give him the best thing she knew how to -- fine, aged Kentucky bourbon. To drink and to reminiscence and to talk about how both of them were human and ending up as a MILF and DILF, but not with each other, thankfully. She knocked on his door cheerfully, making it clear she was about to burst into the loft, “Room service!”

Gen, unfortunately, had felt pretty cut off from her friends the last couple of months. Combined with the anxiety of expecting Lucifer to inevitably show up again, the dogs and Parker kept her occupied, and when she wasn’t doing that, she was sleeping, putting her mind at rest. Of course she felt guilty about it, her normally extroverted self not making it’s appearance, so when she spotted Elena in the grocery store, she bellowed across the cheese aisle, “Heeeeey, Salvatore.”

Gen can’t help but eye the man in the leather jacket and piercing, icy blue eyes from across the bar. She was finally on a break from her orders from the big man downstairs for the day, and she was looking to play just as hard as she worked. She locked eyes with him, bringing the glass of bourbon in her hand up to her lips, her gaze not leaving his own as she just waited for him to come hither.