#mark sheppard x oc

[sergeant-spoons]

46. Her Colors Change to Mark the Passing of the Days

Leslie Sheppard

Taglist: @thoughpoppiesblow​ @chaosklutz​ @wexhappyxfew​ @50svibes​ @tvserie-s-world​ @adamantiumdragonfly​ @ask-you-what-sir​ @whovian45810​​ @brokennerdalert​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​ @claire-bear-1218​ @heirsoflilith​​ @itswormtrain​​ @actualtrashpanda​​ @wtrpxrks​​

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Two weeks, fourteen days, 336 hours, and Leslie still didn't feel like January 1944 was any different than December '43. Nothing had changed significantly, but nothing had changed minutely, either. The 101st Airborne was still stationed in Aldbourne, England, the 506th Mechanical Corps still hadn't gone to war (nor had the 506th Parachute Infantry), and Leslie still hadn't received any news from home, unexpected or otherwise. Even the weather had been consistent, bitingly cold and icily dry. New Year's came and went and Leslie missed her family all the same. Delores was at home in Montana, missing her husband Thomas but grateful for his navy stipend, as it allowed her to stay home and raise Todd while he was away. Franklin was still somewhere out in the Pacific, a medic for the marines, saving lives and buddying up with the best of the best. Nora was on the other side of the world, a hemisphere opposite to both England and Astoria, stationed with the Army Nurse Corps in Australia. And Mattie, recently seventeen, was still in school, halfway through his Junior year and already raring to graduate.

Everything was still, still, still the same.

This Friday evening, two weeks into 1944, the bars were closed due to a freak overnight blizzard and everyone on the base had hunkered down to wait out the storm. Leslie, Tink, and Kiko had been in the workshop with Mama Eades when the snow started, and by the time the trio made it to Easy Company barracks (their commander had split when they passed CP), the breeze was gusting into a gale. They stumbled inside, wet and cold but laughing nevertheless. Welcomed warmly by their Easy friends—who promptly compiled an excess of attire for the girls to borrow—they settled in to stay the night. Leslie didn't need to change as much as Kiko and Tink; last night, she'd accidentally left her coat on her workbench and had the foresight to grab it before venturing out into the flurries. She took a pair of trousers that she knew to be Don's and a pair of socks from Skip and cozied up with their gifters while Kiko and Tink finished changing. Penkala and George were quick to appear with bags of food from the mess hall, and as they stamped the snow off their boots and shook it from their hair, they were met with ample gratitude and fanfare. After a satisfying mishmash dinner, the denizens of the cabin gravitated into groups of their friends, huddling under blankets and keeping close to the heaters lining the walls.

George, Donald Hoobler, and Floyd Talbert quickly converged on Tink, who had produced a handsome pack of cards, and within the quarter hour, a rowdy game of Slapjack was in full swing. Kiko and Penkala sat to the side, keeping mostly to themselves. No one would be surprised if they 'accidentally' fell asleep in the same bed later. Kiko was wearing her engagement ring tonight, and every few minutes, someone new (or repeated) would ask to see and admire it. Leslie, who had volunteered herself as a test subject, sat on a stool in front of Skip as he braided her hair the same way Faye liked it. An army of newspaper cranes stood ranked before her; she kept her hands busy with bird after bird as Skip tried to perfect his crown technique for his fiancée. She preened a little when Skip complimented her shirt, telling him how her sister Delores had sent it all the way from Montana as a late Christmas present. Delores had picked out the shirt—a nice baby blue button-up—and then took the time to embroider the flower pattern on the back of the shirt herself. As Skip hummed his admiration, Leslie pushed her sleeves up past her elbow and refocused on her fowl work, failing to notice who kept glancing her way.

Don and Bull sat huddled around a local newspaper (the same Leslie had stolen a few ad pages out of for her cranes), discussing the war effort in Europe. Don kept looking over at Leslie and trailing off, and though Bull was patient with him, the sergeant was not shy of smirking. Their vein of conversation was not a particularly happy one, and when they started hesitantly guessing when they themselves would see combat, Leslie marched on over and interrupted. Her braid—secured by a length of brown twine—swung across her shoulder blades as she tugged Don up with both hands. Skip and Bull followed them, chuckling, as Leslie dragged Don over to the unattended radio in the corner between George and Hoobler's bunks. Bull instated himself as king of the radio and took over the knob, flicking through channels until a swing ditty came on. He started tapping his foot to the beat, prompting a dance, and Skip, Leslie, and Don tried to hoof it as a trio until Skip tripped over his friends' feet one too many times and, laughing himself silly, tapped out.

"Dance with me, Juliet?"

"Anything for my Romeo."

She was only teasing, but damn, did she look good in that shirt, and when she winked—Don licked his lips and swallowed back all the things he knew he shouldn't say. But now he'd been staring at her for too long, and Leslie squinted at him, unsure why he was eyeing her chest. Reddening, he made up a question on the spot and blurted it out, taking care not to step on her toes as they spun.

"Aren't you cold?"

"Not anymore!" Leslie laughed, warmed up significantly by his arms around her but newly hesitant to tell him so.

"You really don't want a sweater, or—?"

"Why?"

She glanced down at herself and nearly tripped over her own socked feet when Don's hand materialized hot on her waist. Flustered, she sped through her half-teasing query and had to repeat it:

"Do you not like my shirt?"

"No!" he exclaimed quickly. "I mean, it's not that. I love you. It. Love it."

To his mixed relief and disappointment, Leslie giggled, thinking nothing of the slip-up.

"You do?"

"Yeah. It- suits you. Brings out the color of your eyes."

She quirked a skeptical brow, fighting back a smile.

"My eyes aren't blue, they're-"

"Honey brown, I know," he was again quick to answer. "I wouldn't have them any other way."

Leslie blinked, but before she could ask what he meant, he spoke up again, almost blurting out the addendum.

"And that doesn't mean blue's not your color."

"Oh, really? What do you think isn't my-"

"There isn't any color," he interrupted before she could ask. "You look good in anything, Les. Now give me a twirl, let me see that pretty braid."

"It's lopsided," Tink said, eyeing them from where she sat hip to hip with an ever-smiling George and a newly scowling Skip.

"It is not!"

"It so is."

"Is it?"

"Just a little," Don chuckled, brushing a wispy curl off Leslie's cheek. "I think it's charming."

Leslie beamed, her smile spreading over pink cheeks, and she stood up on her toes to get him to twirl under her arm.

"You always knew how to make a girl feel special, 'Lark," she said, and hand-in-hand, they danced the blizzard away.

It was on the first day of February that Leslie, Kiko, and Tink found Mrs. Witchetty crying over a photo album in the downstairs kitchen. They surrendered their free time that evening to sit up with their motherly host once they learned it was the anniversary of her son Robert's passing. He'd died in the retreat from Dunkirk, sacrificing his life so the men in his platoon (he was their first sergeant) could get on the trawlers and escape across the English Channel. Even more tragically, Robert was named after his father, Mrs. Witchetty's husband, who had died 24 years earlier on the Somme in the First World War. The next morning, with hearts heavy with compassionate grief, the girls decided to take Mrs. Witchetty to her son's grave. She could not visit very often anymore now that she could not drive or even walk very far due to her arthritis; when they shepherded her into the car and started to ask her directions, she burst into tears that did not stop for several hours. Kiko was quick to follow suit, and then Tink only a few seconds after. The two of them sat on either side of their dear host in the backseat, holding her and each other as they cried. Leslie was the last to join the weeping, but that was only because she was behind the wheel and knew she had to hold it together for the safety of herself and her passengers.

Robert's burial plot was under a black poplar tree, marked by a plain headstone with a gentle curve and eerily legible engraving. There was something discomfiting about seeing the letters on a gravestone so clearly; it made the death seem starkly fresh. Mrs. Witchetty told them through her tears that Robert used to come here as a boy and read for hours and hours, missing supper and driving his mother mad with worry for the sake of a good book. His mother cried and cried and the girls cried with her, aching to make her feel a little less alone but knowing they were helpless to bring her family back. Leslie stepped away after a time and watched them from a distance, leaning against the side of Mrs. Witchetty's neighbor's car (lent at the behest of a good cause). She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat, and the motion drew her eye to the side mirror. She could see her reflection. More notably, she could see the coat she was wearing, a beige loden number that was her brother Franklin's once upon a time until he grew out of it. Her stomach twisted; all of a sudden, she could no longer look at the grave.

Two weeks and a day later, a nightmare changed Don's restful night to a sleepless one.

Leslie was there, in the dream, leading him by the hand through the streets of an unfamiliar city. Everything was hazy, but her, he could see vividly. She was wearing a grey jacket that he recognized but knew she hadn't worn since they were in high school. Under the jacket, he caught a glimpse of a white dress that once belonged to Leslie's sister Nora but was borrowed by Leslie so often it had become hers. The knee-high boots flicking up behind her with every quick step were from a Halloween costume three years ago. Don had an inkling as to why he was remembering them so well, and though it made him blush, he had to admit it to himself: her legs looked damn fine in those boots. Just as beautiful was her hair, loose and long, flowing marvelously in the breeze as she ran. As they rounded a corner, she dropped his hand, and it became increasingly difficult for Don to keep track of her. She kept moving ahead, glancing back with a strange smile that didn't seem quite right, never stopping or slowing to let him return to her side. If anything, she sped up every time she saw him falling behind.

She disappeared into the crowd before long, turning over her shoulder for one last glance, smileless, before the swoop of her hair was nothing but a recent memory. As Don shouted for her in vain, his vision went blurry and his limbs felt like they were fighting to run through molasses. What felt like an eternity later, he woke up in a cold sweat, his shirt damp under his armpits, circling his neck, and all down his back. It was the dead of night. No one else was awake. Don sat up, shoving the sheets off his legs, feeling uncharacteristically claustrophobic. He heaved great, deep breaths until he no longer felt like his chest was about to collapse in on itself, which took several minutes. Just as he was starting to slouch again, massaging his temple, his neighbor in the next bunk over (Joe Toye) addressed him in a groggy whisper, asking why he was up. To his friend's vague, bullshitted response, Toye mumbled something akin to whatever you say, pal and rolled over to go back to sleep. Don, in turn, laid back down and stared into the darkness until the day broke three and a half hours later.

Endless February eventually passed on, and March sauntered on in, heralded by the wet parting chill of Winter and the first buds of Spring. One day early in the month, just past noon, Leslie was sitting up in her room while Kiko and Tink finished their lunch downstairs. As she rose from her perch on the edge of her bed to come closer to the window, looking out at the last of the melting snow through the water drizzling from the gutter and roof, she had a visitor drop by. He let himself in, kissed Mrs. Witchetty on the cheek, and took the stairs two at a time, knowing exactly where to find her. The icicles were almost all gone, but you still had to be careful under the brims of buildings lest you were caught unawares by a falling shard. There was a chilly fog out that didn't seem to be dispersing any time soon, but the first of the Spring grass would not be deterred from showing itself, poking through the patches of snow clinging to the yard. Leslie didn't realize she was shivering until Don materialized like an affectionate angel and tucked his warm flannel around her shoulders. She turned, fingering the red and grey checkerboard print, and looked up at him with a faint smile.

"You're not in uniform."

"I've got the afternoon off."

He extended his hand and she took it before he could ask the question on his smiling lips. It made him grin, and she blushed just a little.

"Care to spend a few hours on the town with your dear old Don?"

Leslie squeezed his hand, beaming, and agreed without a second thought.

Not long after their day on the town, Leslie and Don made plans for another outing but had to cancel when Captain Sobel (who else?) declared a surprise rehearsal for the upcoming jump demonstration. The whole base had been bustling for weeks about the event, wondering what it was for, who would be in attendance, and why all the secrecy. Leslie's disappointment was palpable to her friends, who decided to drag her off to Mama Eades' office for an afternoon of tea and gossip. Their commander had to run to a meeting of the regiment's commissioned officers (Leslie never failed to disdain Sobel for imagining himself in two places at once) but would join them as soon as she was able. In the meantime, she left her office and all its accouterments to their indulgement. The sleeve of Leslie's turtleneck got caught on the door on her way in and she bemoaned the unraveling thread until Kiko came over and expertly tied it off to prevent any further fraying.

"Mrs. Penkala taught me that," she said a bit sheepishly, and her friends shared an endeared grin.

"Oh, they just love you, huh?"

Kiko laughed shyly. "I suppose they do."

The three young women made themselves at home around a narrow table, dragging over whatever seating they could commandeer (a round stool and two wooden folding chairs made the cut). Armed with mugs of tea, they started with the biggest news of the day: Archie Potts' engagement. He'd met an English girl at her family's pub six months ago, fell in love at first sight, and asked her to be his wife yesterday evening at the dance hall in town. Now they were to be married come May. There was much excitement over this news, but the conversation did not last long before Colonel Sink's secretary (who was fortunately fond of animals) opened the door to let in two cats on a quest. Socket led the way, trotting into the room with Meatball dutifully following behind, but when she came up to Leslie and prepared to jump in her lap, her fellow feline started meowing as if in protest. They turned and looked at each other, having some sort of mewled discourse the girls vaguely understood and found quite amusing. Socket eventually turned and stretched out in a spot of sunshine on the rug at Tink's feet, and Meatball, the winner, launched himself onto Leslie's lap. Leslie had to grab the table to not lose her balance. As she giggled and petted him, Meatball began to purr.

"You sure you're not a Saint Bernard with a long tail?" Leslie asked him, watching his tail flick lazily back and forth, showing his satisfaction. "Sometimes I think you're gonna get as big as one. Oof."

Tink snickered. "Too bad you didn't get Socket."

"Oh, yeah?" Leslie looked down and grimaced to see Meatball was already shedding his russet fur all over her black turtleneck. "Oh. Yeah."

"I haven't ever told you about the day my kupuna kāne died, have I?"

Leslie and Tink went quiet, sensing a shift in the tone of their conversation as they turned toward their friend. Kiko looked graver than they'd seen her in quite some time.

"No, I, uh, I don't think you have."

"My kupuna kāne—my grandfather, we called him Tutu Kane—worked with boats all his life. Once he and my grandmother split—it's a long story, but they were still friends before he... Anyway, he jumped islands, and we didn't see him much after that. He got a job at the harbor patching up all the schooners and dinghies the navy used for testing their ocean-surface artillery. He was like their local handyman, I guess, their small-boats-fixer-upper."

"Was he the one that showed you how to work machines like you do?"

"No, that was my cousin Kaneho'omalu. We called him Malu or Kaneho. He was always getting into trouble." Kiko scratched the front of her ear, a fond smile tugging at her lips. "He left for the mainland when I was fourteen. I think he still works in an auto shop somewhere on the California coast."

"Sounds like a dream job," Leslie hummed wistfully, and Kiko nodded.

"Last I heard, he loves it there. Misses the tropics and the family, but he's happy out on his own. He always was the bravest of us."

"You gotta give yourself more credit here, Kiko!" Leslie exclaimed, trying to encourage her friend. "I bet nobody in your family's ever been this far from their home. I know mine hasn't. Well, no, that's not true, 'cause Nora's way over in... But look at you, you made it all the way out to merry old, very cold England!"

Kiko's cheeks had taken on a comely blush, and now she waved her hand,  made bashful by the implication that she was just as courageous as (if not more than) her cousin.

"I do miss the tropical air, and the water, and the beaches... and my family."

"I'd take Hawaii over this wet, drab country any day," Tink muttered, rubbing her arms. "But what were you saying about your, uh, kupuna kāne, Kiko?"

"Oh, right. Well, Tutu Kane was always too busy to show me any of his tricks. And he didn't like to talk much, either, not to anyone, so he wasn't too keen on the whole teaching thing."

"I can see how you two would be related."

Kiko allowed herself a quiet chuckle.

"He was really good to me while he was around. But he worked in the harbor, and, well... I'm sure you all know what happened to the harbor."

Tink shifted uncomfortably on her folding chair, crossing one leg over the other's shin. They all had a feeling where this was going, so she bit the bullet and asked the clarifying question:

"When you say 'the harbor', you don't mean..?"

"I do. Pearl."

Leslie sucked a breath in through her teeth.

"Jumping Jack Christ."

"Yeah. That." Kiko sighed once, then twice. "Tutu Kane got caught in the middle of it. We didn't know whether he was alive or dead until we could finally get my mother on a boat to Honolulu. She came back two days later with his body and a radio that kept telling us over and over that we were going to war." She shrugged a little meekly. "The day we laid Tutu Kane to rest was the day I decided I was gonna enlist."

"With who?"

"The navy, at first, but they wouldn't take me, even as a mechanic. It was... Well, they didn't want me."

Though Kiko seemed ashamed to admit it, the only disgust felt by her friends was directed at the bigoted navy recruiters who'd been so unbelievably idiotic as to turn someone as brilliant as Kiko away.

"Bastards," Leslie grumbled. 

"Their loss," Tink chimed in.

A bit of Kiko's smile returned. "Then we got Kaneho's things from the mainland—he sends a box twice a year—and it turned out he'd sent a flyer in with all the papers and postcards, a flyer just for me. He'd heard about Tutu Kane and knew I'd want to do something about it. He wrote a note on the flyer that said he'd join up if he could, but on account of his bad leg, he couldn't, but I might like to, and I suppose you can guess what I did after that."

"You came to us." Leslie leaned over and tugged her friend into a side-arm hug. "And we've been better off ever since."

"Hear, hear!"

"Hear what?"

"Mama E!"

The girls leaped up and rushed their commander, eagerly asking after the details of the meeting only to receive frustratingly few answers. The captain hushed them, reminding the trio that although they were admittedly her favorites (but don't tell the rest of the Mechorps), she couldn't tell them a thing—

"And you should know that by now." Through with the necessary chastising, she crouched down and scooped up Socket, who was purring as he rubbed against her legs. "Now what's this hullaballoo about? What'd I miss?"

"Not much," Kiko said, "just Pearl Harbor."

Mama E chuckled darkly.

"Now that's one thing I won't complain about missing." She ruffled Kiko's hair, careful not to get her finger caught and accidentally yank on the corporal's naturally springy, thick curls. "But that reminds me, there is something I can tell you about the meeting..."

The girls huddled up close, and Mama E, still stroking Socket's back, considered her next words carefully.

"Captain Sobel proposed a motion to relocate the barracks of the 506th Mechanical Corps to a tent encampment in the northern woods-"

Leslie and Tink groaned loudly, and even polite Kiko looked like she was having difficulty holding her tongue. Sobel had raised complaints against the Mechorps at least once a month since the formation of the unit. His favorite criticism last Autumn was that the regiment should not be stationed anywhere near the central military base due to the "hazardous experiments" performed by the mechanics—ie. their advanced salvage and repair training. Everyone knew Sobel was just blowing smoke—jump training was more dangerous than rewiring a busted radio—but it seemed he would be returning to the same sticking matter now that the ground was finally (but no doubt temporarily) dry again.

"-so I told him to go wrap himself in a parachute, lay down somewhere in those woods, and don't come back 'til he's had a good fuckin' think."

The girls started giggling. Mama E, enjoying the attention, pressed on with her taunts.

"And knowing that man, any kind of serious thought is going to take him a week at least." She blew her nose rather violently and made a face as she pitched the tissue into the garbage bin under her desk. "Jesus. This damn cold just won't leave me be.”

"Like Sobel and his whining?"

That got a good hearty laugh out of their commander, and Leslie practically glowed with pride.

"Yeah, exactly like Sobel and his fuckin' whining." Mama E cleared her throat. "I ever tell you girls how I met my good-for-nothing, bastard ex-husband?"

"Don't think so," Leslie fibbed, guiding their beloved captain toward the slender table as Tink pulled up an ottoman for her seating pleasure and Kiko poured her a cup of tea, "but I'd sure like to hear it."

"Then settle in, 'cause I've got a decade to cover—from then to now."

Leslie, Tink, and Kiko gathered 'round, keen to hear the tale anew; even the cats curled up at Mama E's feet like they knew a good story was about to be told. The captain kicked her feet up, took a sip of tea, and, looking somewhere in the middle of the girls but not directly at any of them, began.

"First things first: we met in a speakeasy in Tucson in 1934—or was it '35? Oh, but I knew he was trouble the minute he walked in..."

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[prpfs]

Hey! f21+ looking for a couple of canon x oc doubles for the following fandom:

The Last of Us: Looking for someone to write Joel against my oc! Percy Jackson & the Olympians: Looking for someone to write Percy Jackson (aged up) for my oc! Grey's Anatomy: I'm looking for someone to write Derek Sheppard or Mark Sloan against my oc! Chicago Med: I'm looking for someone to write Connor Rhodes or Ethan Choi against my oc.

I usually write around 300-400 words, but that can change based on the scene/my inspiration. 3rd person, past tense. I enjoy NSFW themes in my rps, so please be 18+.

If this interests you, give this a like and i’ll reach out! 🖤

give a like and anon will get back to you

[ladyfiresfanfiction]

December Deals - Supernatural Fic - Crowley x OC

The winds blew colder than usual on that gloomy December day. The waves crashed with ferocity and brought a luke-warm mess of water and sand to my bare feet. It had been three miserable years since I lost him, but on the anniversary of his death, I always visited our secret place. The little private beach off of Orange street and first avenue. It was our hide away from our parents, our problems, and our growing sense of dread. This stretch of land could protect us from the worst pains, the saddest truths, and the darkest lies. But like a set of keys, I lost him. He was gone, without a word, and it killed me every day. I always wondered if Jay was still around. If he could actually hear me talking to him. If he maybe came to visit me at my apartment, or tried to keep me safe in tough times. I could always feel him around me. I could smell his cologne, I could hear his laugh, see those bright, adorable blue eyes. But it never lasted long. I walked along the waters edge, chilling myself to the bone in my black wifebeater and fishnet arm warmers, and those ripped up dark blue skinny jeans. The only thing that was kept the slightest bit toasty were my feet, the sand was still a bit hot from the suns powerful rays. I carried my black boots and knee high black and red striped socks in my hand while I looked out far into sea. Jay was a big part of my life. He was like the older brother I never had. He could make me laugh, protect me, surprise me in so many ways. He always had my best interests at heart and no matter what I said, or did, he never judged me, never left my side. The thought of my heartless words and childish behavior still brings tears to my eyes. The last time I saw him, I was so self absorbed and selfish to even help him, and despite the over bearing sense of desperation and need, he listened to me wail about some guy who broke up with me before he went away to college. He held me all night on the eve of my eighteenth birthday. When I left, he told me he would be over at my house bright and early for a little celebration. But he never showed up. I waited all day, swearing at him for being late. I never once thought he could have been hurt or in trouble. It only started to hit me when I remembered how sad he looked before I left. He asked me to stay the night, that something felt wrong. But all I wanted to do was try and call my ex boyfriend, see if he could come over to talk. He just gave me this optimistic smile and said "things happen for a reason, you never know what the future holds". I thought it seemed so old world of him to say things like that, but in the future, he was right. I put on my socks and shoes and stood up, slapping the sand from my jeans, and turned to the long, tall hill that would lead me back to the deserted road. I put in my earbuds and let the music of my favorite bands take me away to another time and place. Mine and Jay's favorite Tool song, "Right in Two", blared in my ear drums as I walked. I finally reached the road and, as usual, was not paying attention. I walked right into a man with dark features and dressed in a nice tailored black suit. I fell backwards and when I looked up, he stared me down. He had this mischevious smile form across his lips, and he extended his hand to help me up. Cautiously, I let him hoist me to my feet and I looked at him. "How are you, Cassidy?" he asked. "How do you-" "I just know these things." he replied in a thick british accent. I thanked him for his help and apologized for my clumsiness before turning away and walking towards my car, which was parked down the road. When I turned to see if he was still standing there, he was gone. I made it to my car, to be startled at his prescence leaning against the hood of my prized '72 cherry red mustang. "How the hell did you get here before me?" I asked. "Just fast, I guess." he replied, coyly. "Seriously, you were behind me. I would have seen if you -" "Darling, that's not important. I have a message for you." he said, waving off my questions. We stood beside my ride, and I shivered. He was taking in the sights, and then he looked in to my eyes. For a man his age, he was pretty good looking. A few inches taller than my five feet, four inches. He had a cute, chubby face, and a bit of stubble. His hair wasn't too long, and a light brown. It kind of made me want to run my fingers through it. His eyes looked like a melted chocolate, and his smile was contagious. He had a pretty nice build, too. His style looked pricey, but it looked even better on him. I felt like I was getting sized up as he continued to look at me. I felt as if his eyes were burning a hole through me, into my damn soul. I couldn't stand the quiet and I was so cold I could barely feel my fingers or my face anymore, so I cleared my throat to get his attention. Upon seeing how icy I was, he offered me his jacket. It was big on me, but it was cozy and felt great wrapped around my shoulders. He asked if he could hitch a ride, and although I was scared, I was so attracted to him I couldn't muster up the courage to tell him no. We hopped in my baby, that I named  Candy, and we sped down the street and on to the main highway. He asked if he could be dropped off at a bar that was, surprisingly, right down the street from my house, and I agreed. Puscifer's "Conditions of my Parole" blasted through the speakers and I caught him mouthing the words to the song. When the song ended and we came to a traffic jam, I turned in my seat and asked him what this so called message was, and from whom. "You know anyone named Jay Barnes?" he asked. I felt an ice cold chill run up my spine. "That was my best friends name, but.. He's been dead for three years now." I whispered. "Oh, I know. Was tradgic, really. But Jay told me to tell you that you're not at fault and to stop blaming yourself." he replied, while looking me straight in the eyes. The traffic cleared and I began speeding down the road, the man in the suit was digging his nails into the arm rests and swearing when I nearly collided into on coming cars and light poles. I swerved into another lane and went down a deserted street, about two miles from the bar, and hit the breaks, causing both of us to slam our heads against the dashboard. I frantically got out of the car and walked away a few paces. I heard him get out and jog after me. "I told the damn boy you'd react this way but he didn't want to listen." he said, grabbing my wrist. I backhanded him, leaving a red mark on his cheek. He backed away and saw that my eyes went from their usual green-hazel to a darkish, forest green. He rubbed at his aching cheek and began to speak again, weary of my random movements and frequent wheezing breaths. "I mean no harm, darling. Was just passing on a message as a favor to the kid." he said. "I don't know who in the hell you are, but my best friend did not come to you with a message from the grave! Who are you! What is your name?" I snarled. "Oh! Pardon my poor socialization skills. The names Crowley, and I'm the King of Hell." he smirked, and his eyes went to a dark black. I came to on the ground with him standing above me. My whole body was shaking and I could feel tears of fear leaking from my eyes, threatening to smudge my nearly perfect eyeliner. I backed away and he still came forward, and again, he helped me to my feet. "I'm not going to hurt you, relax." he said. "You're a.. A fucking.. Fucking.." "Spit it out, doll, I don't have all day. Yes, I'm a demon. What? Demons can't have nice clothes and be polite?" "Get the fuck away from me, or I swear I'll.. I'll.." "Shoot? Hate to break it to you but guns will only bring a bit of pain, but not death." he smiled. I was on the brink of hysteria when I took off running. The good looking stranger that was nice enough to give me his jacket was a fucking demon? And all these years I thought it was bullshit tales and lies to keep people in line. When I turned I saw my car getting smaller and smaller, but again, when I looked in front of me, he stood there and grabbed me by my waist. I screamed and kicked and scratched but he didn't let go. The last thing I remembered was begging for help, and then I blacked out. I woke up on a king sized bed with canopy curtains pulled in around it. It was dark out and I couldn't remember much. I didn't know where I was and for a split second, I thought I was in a high end hotel. But when I saw him in the doorway through the canopy, I froze. He slowly inched closer with his hands raised, signaling that he had no weapons or intentions to hurt me. I pulled the curtain back but kept the comforter pulled up to my shoulders, it felt so cold in the room. He took a seat on the edge of the bed, with his back turned to me. An overbearing desire to kiss him took over my body, but common sense screamed at me to run like hell. "I came to you because, not only did the boy ask me, but because you need help." he said softly. "Help? From a demon? HA!" I laughed. "I know this may be a bit hard, but can you please SHUT your damn TRAP and LISTEN!?" he shouted. If this would have been any other man, and any other time, I would have jumped him and let him fuck me around every corner of the earth while yelling at me, but instead I did as I was told and let him speak. "Jay is still around. He's been watching you ever since he checked out. He knows that you think it's your fault, he hears you when you talk to him. He won't leave until you realize what he did was his own choosing and no one could have stopped him. He can't be in peace until you finally let go and move on. Following so far?" he asked. "Yes, uh, sir." I spoke quietly. "Good. Now, what I am going to do will hurt but help both you and the boy. Do you want my help? Or, here's a better question; do you want Jay to move on?" he asked. "Of course, he was my brother!" I replied. "Take my hand, and hold on then." he said. I opened my eyes and saw that I was in Jay's apartment. He was downing whiskey straight from the bottle and looked like the poster boy for hell. I walked over, as if in a trance, and tried to touch his cheek. I called his name, but my efforts had gone unnoticed. "He can't see or hear you, honey. This is just a memory, so to speak." Crowley said, standing behind me. I watched as Jay looked through photo albums; they were of the two of us, his family, and then one of him and his ex fiancee, Taria. He wept and traced his fingertips over her picture, asking God why she had to die. He had struggled for six months over her death, and he never let any sadness show, but behind closed doors, I saw the emotional side of him I only wished he could have shared with me. His and Taria's song, "We're in this Together" by Nine Inch Nails played on his stereo, and the look in his eyes showed anguish and defeat. I watched him write his suicide note, take one last look at a photo of the three of us; Taria, Jay, and I, and then go into the bathroom. I followed behind, tears and shrieks escaping from me. I watched him get in the tub, now filled with hot water, and I watched him electrocute himself with his hair straightener. I cried out for him and when Crowley decided that I had seen enough, he brought us back to present day. "How could you put me through that?" I choked. "I'm sorry, Cassidy. I had to." "Why? So I wouldn't feel guilty? Well newsflash, genius; I feel even worse." I snapped. "Damn it, girl, you saw with your own eyes the pain he was going through. You saw that it had nothing to do with you, and no matter what, you couldn't save him! No one could! For fucks sake just accept it!" he barked. I sat on the bed and turned away from him. It was bad enough I was in a strange house with a member of God's public enemy number one, but I'd be damned if I let him see me cry. I laid on my side, facing a wall, and I felt the burning hot tears sting my eyes. I kept my moans to a minimum and kept as far away from him as possible. I heard him sigh and then after several minutes, felt his arm slide around my waist and pulled my back up against his body. I turned to look at him, and I saw compassion in his eyes. I didn't know what to think at this point. "Is there anyway.. I could bring him back?" I asked. "I'm sorry kid, but no." he whispered in my ear. "Please, Crowley, I'd do anything. I'd even sacrifice my soul." I pleaded. "What a nice gesture, but, still, the answer is no." he replied. I shoved him away and he fell backwards off the bed. "Well fuck you! What kind of pansy ass demon are you!?" I shrieked. "Sweetheart, you have no idea what you have just started." he said as he placed me on my back and hovered over my body. I looked up at him with curiosity. For all I know, he was about to murder me and hide the body somewhere. But instead, I just gave in to him. He was free to do whatever he wanted to me. His fingertips traced down my jawline as he leaned down and kissed my lips. They were warm and moist and sent electricity throughout my entire body. I couldn't help but moan. As the kiss grew deeper, I felt him smile into it, and his hands explored my curves. My tongue entered his mouth and I felt him begin to suck on it, it was new and exciting and made me feel like a giddy middle school girl. I felt his hands cup both sides of my face, and his own tongue began to rub against mine. He nibbled on my bottom lip and I slid my hands slowly up and down his arms, but then the reality that I was making out with a demon came in to play. I shoved him off and did a back flip off the other side of the bed, quickly throwing on my socks and boots. As I got up and made my way to the door, he stood in my way, looking down at me with eyes filled with lust and dominance. I felt my heart lodge in my throat as he grabbed me by my hips and slam me into the wall, his body pinned against mine and whispering in my ear that I was in alot of trouble and my best bet would be to let him fuck me and it wouldn't hurt... too much. I pushed back against him, trying to free myself from his grasp, but all it did was make me groan and make him press his lips hard into mine, stifling any sounds I tried to make. He yanked my hair back from my neck and let his lips wander down from my jawline, to my neck, and right along my collarbone. His kisses were rough and hard, and my knees were growing weak with each and every powerful kiss. His hands pinned my wrists into the wall, and I began to feel pain as his nails dug into my moist flesh. I was taking in short, jagged breaths while peering up to look at him. His facial expression was determined, concentrating on areas he somehow knew would make me turn to putty in his hands, and he looked as if he was happy with himself for turning me into his whore. He nipped at the sensitive areas on my neck, the last love bite drew a little blood, which he slid his tongue over. I arched into him and let out a whimper, which caught his attention. He freed my aching wrists and I jumped up in his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. As he kissed my lips again, he banged me into the wall, grinding against me, letting me feel every inch of his body melting into mine. He turned and threw me down on the bed, in which I half heartedly tried to sit up to see what he was doing. He smiled at me, clicking his tongue against his teeth, as if wondering what his next move should be. My mind was frazzled and I was more than turned on. I needed to feel every inch of him inside of me. He slowly walked over to the bed, bending down the slightest bit so he could lick my lips and bite down hard on my bottom lip. His hands were gliding through my hair, softly playing with every soft strand as he fell on top of me. Under him I felt like I was on ecstasy; my heart was racing at the speed of light, my mind was blacking out, and my body was shaking furiously. His hands, once again, trailed down my sides, his finger tips gliding down my rib cage, and slowly his fingers hooked into my jean loops, trying to yank my pants down a tad bit. I found the strength to take off his jacket and throw it on the leather desk chair behind him, and he locked eyes with me again. "Patience," he whispered in my ear, and his hot breath on my neck made a sharp breath stick in my throat, painfully. "When I'm through with you, I'll be carrying you around for awhile." I bit my lip as his last sentence played in my mind, like a broken record. He slowly pulled up my wifebeater, and with each inch he pulled up, he left a trail of kisses to my shaking form behind. I arched in to him again, and our bodies seemed to mould together perfectly. He rested one large, unwavering hand on the small of my back, holding me against him as he sucked and bit my neck. I went to work and began to unbutton his shirt. He ripped my wifebeater off, throwing the fabric on the other side of the bed. He muttered something about sloppy clothing pissing him off before kissing and licking the top of my breasts. I felt a slight film of sweat trickle down my forehead and along the sides of my face, with one hard, forceful move, he ripped my jeans off my legs without even unbuttoning them. I finally had his shirt fully unbuttoned, no thanks to my trembling fingers, and he quickly slid it off of his slightly muscular arms. He undid his tie painfully slow, and made a nice pile for his clothes on the nightstand, leaving me frustrated and snapping at him to finish what he started. "Oh, in due time, darling. Have a bit of patience." he would say, and then he pinned my wrists above my head and began to slide my bra straps off my shoulders using only his teeth. I bucked my hips against his, grinding my lower body in to his, letting him know I was more than ready for him to pound me in to the next century. He grunted, only once, and then stared me down. When my bra straps were down as far as they would go, he sat up, straddled over my body and yanked me up with one hand, and undid the bra hooks with ease. It went flying over his shoulder and he laid me down gently, smirking. He stood in front of the bed, staring at my nearly fully naked body. I felt as if I was being sized up, or as if he was taking a mental picture to add to his probable vast collection. I sat up, cautiously, and looked up at him. He nodded his head, as if giving me permission to undo his pants. With slow progression I had them unzipped and unbuttoned within a minute, and they fell to his ankles. He kicked them, along with his shoes, off and looked down at me. He shoved me hard into the bed and grabbed my legs, slowly pulling off my boots and socks. He threw them against the wall, looking disgusted at my now ruined attire. He leaned down, hooking his thumbs into the strings of my thong and ripped it off quickly. I sat up long enough to pull down his boxer briefs, and he kicked them off, placing his clothes on the nightstand. He stood in front of me, fully naked, and his length was something most girls only dream of having in a lover. I smiled up at him, ready for the most fierce sexual encounter I've had in my life, when he gently took my hand and helped me to my feet. "This will be the only time I'm careful with you" he groaned in my ear while he pulled me against him. "Bring it, black eyes." I choked out. He slammed me hard into the wall, lifting one leg and wrapping it around his waist. I felt him get situated and shove his full girth inside of my aching cunt. I swore at him as he began to forcefully penetrate me. He wasn't slow, he wasn't gentle, he was an animal. I held on to his shoulders, letting my nails dig in as he continued to make me squirm and scream. He grunted like an animal in my ear as he continued to slam into me, making me bounce back against the wall each and every time. My hips ached as his hit them with such a force I felt like they would break, and my eyes began to roll in the back of my head, making me feel dizzy and see stars. He nipped at the soft flesh on my neck, making me cry out, and as he pounded my cunt, he let his thumb play with my swelling clit. I bit down on his neck, surely drawing blood, and I arched in to him again. When he was tired of banging me into the wall, he threw me on the ground, landing on top of me. He looked into my eyes, out of his mind with hunger, and kissed my lips hard. My legs lifted into the air, giving him more clearance to penetrate me deeper. With each and every thrust, he hit my gspot and made it hurt so bad I was sure I was bleeding. He kissed down my sweaty body, nibbling on my collar bone, breasts, and back up to my lips. Our tongues locked in a passionate wage of war that no one would win. My nails raked down his back, making it burn as he continued to thrust in to me, making me scream his name. My throat was hurting and turning raw, but I couldn't stop the uncontrollable urge to scream and swear at him. I heard his seductive chuckle, and as I let out a stream of cum, I shoved him off, pinned his wrists down to his sides, and whispered that it was my turn to have some fun. I carefully kissed down his sweaty body, leaving gentle kisses to his chest, down to his stomach, and held one last kiss to his lower stomach, where his happy trail began. He groaned, trying to fight me off of him, but part of him was willing to be submissive, at least for a little while. I let him go, looking up at him and smirking as he bit his lip in anticipation. At first, I put quick, soft kisses to the head of his cock, down to his shaft and back up, I slowly let the tip enter my mouth, and I swirled my tongue inside and out of it, making him swear and call me his dirty little whore. With each curse word, I sucked on the tip while holding on to the shaft with one hand. I massaged the shaft with my fingertips as I began to slowly let it enter my mouth, inch by inch. He was trying to move, trying to force it all inside my mouth and down my throat, but it was as if he was paralyzed. I held on to the base as it was all in my mouth, and I showed him what was any guys favorite ability in a girl; I could deep throat. "Fucking Cassidy, you slut." he grunted as I let it all slide down my throat. I let him hardened, pulsing dick slide in and out of my mouth, and sucked it hard like a lollipop. Each time it slid down my throat quickly, the precum was leaking more and more, and then finally, when he couldn't take anymore, he let a wave of it release into my mouth. Looking up at him as I slowly let his cock slide out of my mouth, I swallowed every last drop, and smirked as he lay there, shaking and muttering to himself. "This isn't over, you fucking bitch." he gasped. "Oh, but I think it is." I laughed, slowly getting off my knees. "Guess again." he said, regaining balance on his feet and shoving me on my stomach on the bed. He entered me from behind, pounding my pussy while his fingernails raked down my back. As he entered me with force, I gripped the sheets and felt him grip on to my ass as he shoved in every inch into my now swollen cunt. I cried out for him to stop as I felt the familiar pulse rage inside of me, but all I heard was him grunting over and over again, and making my head spin and the little breaths I did have stick in my throat. He leaned down, over me, while he fucked me senseless and placed several sweet kisses to my neck. With one last push, the muscles in my cunt contracted around him and we soaked the bed with our burning hot cum. He placed me on my back and fell on top of me, his face buried in my hair. I slid my fingertips up and down his spine, and turned to kiss his cheek. Our hearts beat against each others, and when we finally caught our breath, I felt his arms slide around my waist and his lips gently kiss mine. "How does it feel to be fucked my a demon?" he whispered raggedly in my ear. "Sinfully spectacular. How does it feel to be completely worked by a human?" I asked in return. "Let's just say, it was a pleasure working with you." he chuckled before kissing my lips again.

[xoxo-figgs]

haven’t been able to write lately. getting a little discouraged for some reason. but i’m working on chapter 5 today. i feel like this will have 12 -15 chapters when all is said and done but we’ll see. 

really really need a beta reader. i think that would help but i’ve not had any bites. if anyone sees this can you give it a signal boost? i’m dying over here. lol.

it’s for a crowley x ofc (witch) story. 18+. chaptered. which will maybe have a daddy kink... it IS likely look at my name... and then i’ve got three other ones in the series outlined.

[a-jynx]

Mobile Masterlist

 SPN Taglist:  @laceyn-1201, @waywardnewcomer, @supernatural-teamfreewillpage, @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name, @casiskween, @great-godpotato-akane, @closetspngirl, @specialagentlokitty, @dearsmileyman, @im–an–angel–you–assbutt, @destiel-trenchcoatangel, @msimpala67, @thetallassgirl@invisibledevour,@gabriels-trix, @gabby913, @xiumin-girl99, @stileslove, @fabinaforever11, @samwinchesterssexyface, @billiexmendes, @ilovemymoose, @hobby27, @moonlight-babeh, @moosekateer13, @exo-nova, @mlovesstories, @fabinaforever11, @shatteredabby, @keithseabrook27, @xostephanie, @molly-lolli, @lilac-jade, 

Requests are open, as well as my F.I.T tags! Just send an Ask! 💖

NEW SPN TAGLIST 

Series: 

Ridge-Wood - Sam x OC 

Summary:  While on a hunt in the small town, Ridge-Wood, Sam, and Dean find themselves working alongside the deputy at the towns’ sheriff department, what happens when they find out their little partner in this dangerous hunt hides a few details of themselves that could lead to the death of a lover, or family member?

Series Masterlist 

Trouble In All The Right Places - Dean x OC 

Summary:  The Winchesters were always the best “exterminators” at things that went bump in the night… At least, they were until that one fateful night, ten years ago when she got away - the one who stole Dean Winchester’s heart. So what happens when Dean finds himself struggling to tell the difference between true love or undeniable lust, once they meet again? Especially when that hunt - along with many to follow it, leaves him looking for trouble in all the right places?

Series Masterlist:

Black Eyes, Pretty Lies - Sam x demon!reader 

Summary:  Team Free Will find themselves lodged between a rock and a hard place when a possible case turns out to be more than they bargained for - especially when one specific member falls for the guilty…

Series Masterlist:

The Roaring Night - Beast!Sam x reader 

Summary: Discontinued, but parts will stay posted. 

The Winding Road - Biker!Sam x reader 

Summary:Queen of the roads, that’s what they used to call little Miss Y/N, well, that’s until she left the Caged Devils, and found herself looking for refuge at Singer’s Auto and Body Shop; home to the stronger, larger, and most likely tougher biker gang in Lawrence, Kansas… The Family Business, the Winchesters’ and their usually loyal followers. So what happens when Y/N finds herself falling for the younger and soon-to-be king Winchester faster then she can say, “son-of-a-bitch”? 

Series Masterlist  

Blood, Tears, and Absolute Fear - Misha x daughter!reader  

Summary:  Y/N Collins, the most sweetest, kind-hearted, yet level-headed girl you will ever meet.. Well if you ever got to meet her. Falling heavily ill, and leaving her father to run between the hospital and his workpeople begin to question things.

Series Masterlist: 

Steal The Show - Bodyguard!Dean x famous singer!reader 

Summary:  What happens when the famous singer, Y/F/N Y/L/N, or “Ms. HB” finds herself falling headset over heels for her new bodyguard, Dean Winchester? And just how long can she pretend that there’s nothing there - especially with some heat added to the mix? 

Series Masterlist 

Disappearing Into Hell - Sam x demon reader {Arc 2 of Black Eyes, Pretty Lies}

Summary:  The reader soon finds herself in a rough patch in life after watching Sam, her beloved, jump head first into the cage to put away Lucifer… So what happens when she finds herself alone when Dean goes off to do as Sam wished, and the reader has a few secrets still in the dark? And how will she react when her special someone comes back with a little something… Missing?

Series Masterlist   

The Lost Hunter - Brothers x gender!neutral reader 

Summary: The boys knew you talked about giving up hunting, but they never thought you were serious… Well, not until they came into your hometown and learned that you were a well-known cop statewide. How had you given up on hunting so easily? Why didn’t you ever call, or message to tell them you were alright..? But, more importantly… What are you trying to keep from them that such a big secret..?

Series Masterlist

The Beast of Kansas - Beast! Sam x reader {On-going series/ NEW!!!} 

Summary: You’ve known them for years… You could always run to the Winchester boys for an escape of daily life. With their dumb fairytales of hunting the Supernatural, to their idiotic stories of breaking into the public pool – and getting arrested.

You knew them, or at least… You thought you did. What happens when rumors begin to leak through small-town Lawrence, Kansas about your best friends and their family? How will you and the boys handle new threats? More importantly, will you survive The Beast of Kansas…?

Series Masterlist

Drabbles: 

What Do You Do - Dean x adopted daughter!reader 

Family Always Ends In Blood - Dean x sister!reader 

 All I Care About - Dean x reader

“Functioning” Alcoholic - Brothers x sister!reader 

Daddy’s Here - Dean x niece!reader; Sam x daughter!reader 

Cool Dad - Dean x daughter!reader

Should’ve Been Better - Brothers x sister!reader 

The Damn Dare - Destiel 

Sandbox Wings - Little Dean x Fledgling Cas; Little Sam x older Gabriel 

Just A Push & A Shove - Dean x Cas; Jack x Ben Braeden 

I’ll Take That Bullet - Dean x reader 

Can’t Chain Up An Angel - Sam x angel!reader 

Heart Attack - Biker!Sam x reader 

I’m Drowning - J2M x daughter-like!reader 

He’s A Natural - J2 x platonic!reader

Favorite Actress - J2 x reader {Part 2} 

Smooches - Daddy Jensen x pregnant momma!reader (my fav) 

My Cup Of Tea - Jared x British!reader {Part 2} 

Good Cup Of Coffee - Jared x fiesty!reader 

That Has To Be My Favorite Part - Mark Sheppard x daughter!reader {Part 2} 

How May I Help You? - Castiel x reader (cafe owner cas) 

Flowers... They Bloom. Jared x reader; soulmate au {Part 2, 3} 

Help Me, Daddy - Dean x daughter!reader

Who’s The Cutest? - Sam x reader; mentions of your daughter (NEW!!!) 

Date Night Terror - Sam x reader; Uncle Dean x niece; mentions of your daughter (NEW!!!) 

Requested: 

Once An Angel, Always An Angel - Kevin Tran x angel!reader 

Lost Among The Flowers - Dean x dead! reader (NEW!!!) 

Everything is Missing - Chuck x reader (NEW!!!) 

Little Too Aggressive - Dean x reader (NEW!!!)  

Fleeing Love - Castiel x Winchester sister! reader (NEW!!!)

Hellbound Darling - Dean x half demon! reader (NEW!!!) 

So You Ran? - Castiel x mutant! reader (NEW!!!) 

[jerk-bitch-and-an-angel-blog]

Trick or Treat - Mark Sheppard x Ryan OC (Mark/Reader son) feat Reader

For: Survive The Holidays Challenge

Warnings: none

Holiday: Halloween Prompt: If I have to take you all over the neighborhood begging for candy I get half. It’s called the Candy Tax.

Mark and Y/n were taking their two year old son Ryan trick or treating for the first time. "I couldn't get our son to wear a costume, he was scared of most of them. He also doesn't like masks or hats" Mark said. "Yeah I know I tried to tell you" Y/n said, "yes you did, so he's wearing his shirt that says Boo" Mark said. "Hi mommy" Ryan said, "hi baby boy" she said lifting him up into her arms. "Lets go get some candy" Mark said, they left the house and began the walk through their neighborhood. Every house they went Ryan said "tick teat" and Mark and Y/n burst out laughing making Ryan smile. With a full bag of candy and a tired toddler Mark and Y/n decided it was time to go home. Mark dumped the candy out of the pumpkin bucket and he took out everything that was a choking hazard. He also took out some chocolate for mommy and he looked over at his son who was giving Mark his best angry face. "You know Ryan, you look just like your mommy when you make that face" Mark said. "My cany daddy" Ryan said, "if I have to take you all over the neighborhood begging for candy I get half. It's called the Candy Tax" Mark said.

Tags if you'd like to be added or removed just message me

@queencflair @lucilepiewhiskey @uniquewerewolfsuit @jessicawritessmut @meg-wayward-af @samslostshoe-deansbaby

[liamakorn]

Never Tell Them

Pairing: Crowley x OC (female)

Word Count: 7474

Warnings: Stockholm Syndrom to the max, babes, omfg. Angst. Fluff. Profanity. Mentions of abuse, mentions of rape. be careful if that triggers you, friend. Ummm, Crowley might be a bit out of character???  I really bumped up the romance, okay, I just really miss my king X’3 ALSO THIS IS TOTALLY OUT OF SYN WITH THE ACTUAL TIMELINE,OKAY. IT’S ALL OVER THE PLACE, i’M SRY ^w^

Summary: Okay, so. I suck at summaries, but here I go. There’s a new supernatural weapon of mass destruction in town. Sam and Dean wanna get rid of it. Crowley wants to use it (also Heaven rlly wants it too but, that isn’t really mentioned in the story, just fyi). Crowley gets his demons to kidnap OC (Elizabeth Carter), long time friend of the Winchester. He thinks she has it, she does not, obvi. Alot of torture, all for nothing. Or so they thought, but LO AND BEHOLD, LOVE HAS BLOSSOMED in a very not healthy way, like seriously, you are being tortured, girl, I know Mark Sheppard is super sexy, but lock it up. 

Anyway. Hopefully, you enjoy this little blob I made. It’s really fucking sappy, I laughed, I cried, I threw up in my mouth a little. (I also hella miss Meg, btw. She deserved better, ChuckDammit. :<)

“So.”

 There came that voice again. A dreadful, nerve fraying-ly sexy voice laced with a false courtesy that continued to push each and every one of her buttons. It always started like this. He’d waltz in, crisp black suit adorning his figure, polite smile on his face, and ask the same, boring ass questions.

 “How are you this fine evening?”

 Slowly, she let her auburn gaze drift up to meet his dark one. A tired smirk lifted the corners of her chapped lips, voice rough and crackly.

“Better, now you’re here.”

 An almost amused chuckle slipped from the man, clicking his tongue sarcastically.

“Flattery, my dear Elizabeth, will get you everywhere.”

 Demeanor the epitome of calm, he brought a chair in front of her, flipping it to sit backwards in an infuriatingly casual way. Elizabeth’s gaze hardened, smirk slipping from her features.

“What d’you want, Crowley?”

 He huffed, leaning his chin in his hand with a bored expression.

“You know what I want. Where’s the box?”

 The blonde rolled her eyes, shifting in her seat as much she could with the chains and rope holding her still. They didn’t play with this whole interrogation thing, did they?

 Her voice came out exasperated and patronizing when she next spoke.

“For the last time, you stupid, insolent prick, I don't, nor have I EVER, known where that god forsaken box is. Why don't you go torture someone with actual information for a change?”

 Of course, the box being referred to was none other than Pandora’s very own. See, while most of the terrible things inside had already escaped, there were still millions of monstrous beasts waiting to be unleashed. Anyone with that kind of power could easily overrule Heaven, Hell, or even Purgatory. It had become the job of the Winchester boys to find it, and seal it away for good, before anything remotely supernatural could get their hands on it.

 Problem? Crowley, the self proclaimed King of Hell, wanted the box. Bad. And he was willing to do whatever it took to achieve his goal. Including, kidnapping the Winchesters’ best friend, and hunting partner; Elizabeth Carter.

 Another problem? She didn’t know jack.

 Crowley sighed yet again, looking like he wanted to be anywhere apart from there. Scooting his chair closer, he was within reaching distance, a knife suddenly in his hand. His accent, previously soft and lilting, took on a hard edge, brandishing the weapon close to her face.

“Listen here, pet. I have no time for your games. This is very serious, quite life and death. So I’d appreciate a little less attitude. Understand?”

 Liz raised an eyebrow, not remotely fazed by this poorly guised threat. She leaned forward, lips practically brushing his.

“I. Don't. Know. Shit. You’d think you’d take the hint by now.”

 Growling, the Demon King slashed the blade against her cheek, blood flowing from the wound down the side of her face. She barely flinched, licking her smirking lips as some of the liquid landed in the area. Crowley stood, storming away from the platinum blonde in frustration. However, what she said next brought both confusion and curiosity to his mind.

 “You do know what’ll happen if you get the box, right?”

______________________________________________________________

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pivoted, narrowing his eyes at the petite girl. In many ways, she could be considered beautiful. Even in those ratty conditions, it was visible. Light, almost white hair, now hanging in knotted, greasy clumps. Large orangey, yellowy, light brown eyes that shifted with a fire, bags clinging for dear life beneath them. A curvy, yet lean figure, with bones peaking beneath the skin due to lack of proper food. Still, she held that spark, that drive. To be perfectly honest, it fascinated him. To have spent weeks, almost a month in hell, enduring torture and rigorous interrogation,  and still maintain a sense of humor? It was a very rare sight, indeed. But of course, he forced himself to ignore her beauty. Tore his gaze away from her full lips, focused in on those burning eyes as her statement drew him in.

 A questioning quirk in his brow, Crowley graced her with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“By all means. Do enlighten me.”

 He wasn’t sure whether her proud smirk turned him on or pissed him off. It could really go either way. He decided for the latter at the girl’s condescending tone.

 “Once you have it, it’ll be the perfect opportunity for Lucifer’s return. You’re lovely hag mother will steal it, right under your nose, and use it to gain Satan’s favour once more. Then the Apocalypse, yadda yadda, you know the drill. Humans die, no more deals, sad Crowley has no more fwiends.”

 A mix between a smile and a pout formed on her lips. He would’ve been angry if she didn’t have such a good point. Crowley fought to keep an even tone.

“Now, kitten, you know me. I would never let that happen.”

 The giggle that escaped Elizabeth’s mouth was maybe the most irritatingly lovely thing he’d ever heard.

“Aww, look at you. So sure of yourself. So confident.”

 Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, sending a flirty wink his way.

“I like arrogance in a man.”

 The sarcasm was grating on Crowley’s nerves more and more as time went on. It frustrated him to no end, in more ways than one. So, he decided, he’d switch tactics.

 A small smirk on his face, a click...click… followed the demon’s black dress shoes, echoing around the dungeon as he slowly made his way towards the bound woman. Taking his time, Crowley kneeled down, squatting in front of her to achieve eye level. The smallest quirk of his lips revealed his satisfaction as she jumped, the King’s fingertips just grazing her thigh. Of course, the skin on skin contact allowed him to feel her heartbeat as well as hear it -it had been racing since he’d entered the room, and only accelerated at the touch.

 Hm. Interesting development.

 Focusing his gaze unto hers, Crowley allowed himself a moment to examine her. Well. More like ogle. Though she might’ve thinned a bit since her arrival, the minor malnutrition had done nothing to diminish her figure. In fact, at least in his opinion, the lack of muscle definition only accentuated her curves, gave a more...feminine appeal to her look. Her hips stood out most to him. Wide, sloping into an amazingly thin waist, achieving an effortless hourglass shape. And in those booty shorts? He had a difficult time staying professional, if he was absolutely honest. Which he never was.

 He only allowed himself a few seconds before focusing back on task. It was enough, though.

 “You’re drooling, Majesty.”

 Crowley raised his brows, feigning shock for a moment before digging his thumb into a relatively fresh wound on the inside of her leg. Biting his lip, he watched as she gripped the arms of her chair, trying to contain a scream. Emphasis on try. Crowley was reluctant to admit the...effect it had on him, but hey. He was just a boy, sitting in front of a girl, trying not to cum in his pants as she cried out in pain.

 Leaning forward, he was genuinely surprised at her sudden smile, observing in fascination as Liz actually pressed her thigh closer to his hand. That, mixed with the fire dancing behind that auburn gaze, was quite easily the most erotic thing he’d ever been witness to.

 “You’ll have to try harder than that, hot stuff.”

 Slowly, almost gently, he removed his thumb from the wound, sucking the blood from the digit with an audible sigh. Goddammit...it was delicious. He’d never been one of those demons, but fuck, if all blood tasted like that, he might have to try. After a series of very R rated thoughts, all compressed in a single moment, Crowley ran a finger down Elizabeth’s cheek, tangling the same hand in her matted hair and tugging sharply as he stood, keeping her eyes on him. He didn't fail to notice the way her thighs clenched, lips parting as a sharp gasp filled her lungs. A low chuckle escaped his chest.

 “Ooh. Kinky.”

 Using slow, deliberate movements, Crowley leaned forward, his lips brushing hers for the second time in the past five minutes. He’d be lying to say his face didn’t tingle while this close to the honorary Winchester. It amused him greatly when her body, almost unconsciously, leaned up toward his, seeking friction on her otherwise neglected lips.

 He wasn't stupid. She was a hunter. A bloody good one, at that. A natural actress. This could be a very clever ploy to get him off his guard. That, or, she was just very horny. Either way, he scolded himself, it doesn’t matter. This is an interrogation. Are you gonna torture her, or flirt her to death? This is business.

 Of course it was. Just business. Just. Business. He knew that. Still. It took a few repetitions for his breathing to calm.

 Just breezing by her lips and cheek, Crowley pressed his mouth just below her ear, murmuring in the most rumbling, sensual voice he could manage:

 “It doesn’t have to be like this, Elizabeth. Just give me the box, and then...we can start the real fun, hm?”

 Pulling away the tiniest bit, the demon caught her gaze, faces inches from each other. Suddenly her lips quirked. A rattle of chains was all he heard before his knife was out of his hand and being swung at his neck. Somehow, his guard had faltered, allowing the girl to slip her bonds, if only by one arm.

 Thankfully, she was slow. Tired. It was easy to grip her wrist and slam it to the chair, practically snapping the bones in the process. Not so easy to stop imagining slamming her hands to the wall, ravaging her mouth and claiming her as his own. He practically groaned aloud at the cruelty in her eyes. That anger. Oh, the hate sex they could have…

 Quickly, he wrapped the chains back around her arm, making sure to fasten the bonds extra tight. Squatting in front of her yet again, Crowley tutted, lightly tapping his fingers against her thigh.

“Now, now, darling. That wasn’t very nice, was it? Do it again, and I’ll have to punish you.”

 A curt laugh.

“Nobody likes a tease, Crowley.”

 Smile matching hers, the demon king stood, making his way towards the door with a sigh.

“Well, dear, when you’re ready to talk, just scream my name. Lord knows I’ll enjoy it.”

 Then, with a final wink, he was gone, leaving Elizabeth in the darkness once more.

 ~~~~~~~~

 The next time Crowley visited Elizabeth, maybe two weeks later, she seemed infinitely more tired. She barely managed to lift her gaze, that fire dimmed to mere embers. Her light hair fell in matted clumps, greasy and untamed. Her skin was marred with bruises and fresh wounds. Her clothes, mere torn rags by that point, hung off her frame, bones straining from underneath her flesh.  From his vantage point, Crowley could make out deep scratches in the wooden arms of her chair, nails ripped back from their beds. Still, she managed a half-assed smirk, voice shaky and rough.

 “Long time, no see, lover. Didja miss me?”

 The King almost growled, a sickened twist in his stomach rattling him as he witnessed the damage done to his girl prisoner. He could barely manage a disinterested tone.

“Whatever happened to you, darling? You seemed much more lively last time I checked on you.”

 Her attempted laugh made him flinch.

“Well, darling, some of your dogs took it upon themselves to get some info outta me.”

 She gave the tiniest tilt of her head, smirk widening.

“There was a very pretty one yesterday. I think she liked me. The determination in her eyes, so desperate to please.”

 She gave a sarcastic shiver.

“Gave me chills.”

 A snarl found itself on Crowley’s lips. He couldn’t quite place the discomfort in his gut. Why did the thought of other hands touching the girl make him want to crush every bone in that demon’s body?

“And who would these demons be, if you don't mind me asking? I want names, kitten.”

 Elizabeth’s eyes scanned the ceiling, over-dramatizing her thought process.

“Good thing you’re puppies are so chatty. Let’s see here...Jasper. Kenny. Elijah. Aaaannnddd…..Regina.”

 Rejoining her hard gaze to his own, the petite woman was about to continue when a sudden coughing fit overtook her, small spatterings of blood covering her bare legs. Without thinking about it, Crowley snapped in a glass of water, perching on the arm of her chair before holding it up to the girl’s lips gingerly.

 His voice was much too soft for his liking as he murmured,

“Drink up, darling.”

 Taking a slow gulp of the cool beverage, Elizabeth gave him a strange look, exhaling shakily.

“....thank you.”

 Crowley almost smiled. Almost. He caught himself, quickly resuming his uncaring attitude before she could notice.

“Yes, well. Can’t have you dying on us now, can we? Not when there’s still information to be had.”

 Snapping his fingers, the water was gone, smirk set like stone on his lips. The demon didn't miss the subtle fall of Elizabeth’s face, almost as if she was...disappointed. Trying, and failing, not to read too far into that, Crowley stood; not before turning and asking the same question as always, though, this time much gentler.

 “Where’s the box, Elizabeth?”

 A tired shrug was all he got. Sighing, yet again, the Demon King left the small dungeon, determined on finding and setting an example of those wretched pigs who dared interrogate his prisoner.

 “Food will be sent down in a small while, kitten. I expect you to eat every last bite. Lord knows you need the strength.”

 He could’ve sworn he heard her sigh in relief.

 ~~~~~~~

 It wasn’t more than a few days before Crowley went to see Elizabeth again. Then again, a week after that. Barely even a full 24 hours the next time. Each visit, he was pleased to see that she got a tad better since the one prior. He’d made an effort to keep his demons away, sending food and water down more frequently. He also made an effort to ignore the whispers of the kingdom, gossip being spread of her ‘special treatment’ and how maybe the King was a bit too fond of Miss Carter. Whatever. It was nonsense, anyway. Peasant talk. She wasn’t getting any special treatment. This was merely a tactic. To keep her alive. To make her comfortable. To get the information.

 It was like a mantra in his head. Almost as if he was convincing himself.

 As he crossed the guarded threshold, Elizabeth’s eyes darted up, a surprisingly genuine smile lighting her face. Though her voice was still hard and throaty, sarcasm oozing from her words, there was something about that innate reaction that tugged Crowley’s blackened heartstrings. He almost felt...guilty for holding her there, wrapped in chains, treated like a prisoner.

 She is a prisoner, dumbass.

 “Howdy, Growley. How’s my royal pain in the ass this fine evening?”

 She paused, an almost Cas like expression crossing her face.

“Or is it day? I can't really tell down here, it’s all so boring.”

 Crowley bit his lip to contain a grin, secretly relishing the nickname. It was moments like these, where the banter and bickering seemed almost friendly, that really messed with his head. He shouldn’t want to laugh at her jokes. He shouldn't want to stare into her eyes, mesmerized by the flames flickering in their auburn depths. Her laugh shouldn't make his heart pound like it did, her smile shouldn't give him that fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Disgusting. He was the King of goddamned Hell, he shouldn't be getting goddamned butterflies for this measly human.

 And, yet, there he was.

 Again, Crowley swung a chair around, leaning with the back of it facing Elizabeth. He could tell the nonchalance bothered her. That’s probably why he did it.

 “Lizzy. Dear. All I need is a simple answer. Then you will be free to go wherever you choose. Paris, maybe. Italy. New York. Hell, back to Moose and Squirrel if that’s what you really want. It’s not difficult. Just tell me. Where. Is. The box?”

 The heaviest possible sigh escaped her chest, then, almost as if these repetitions annoyed her. To be fair, they most likely did. That was sort of the point. Leaning as close to the demon as her chains would let her, Elizabeth startled him with the desperation in her tone, features soft for the first time he’d seen.

“Crowley. I really, truly have no idea where Pandora’s Box is. If I did, I would’ve told you ages ago. Even if it brought the Apocalypse. To be honest, I don't give a crap about the world. Humanity can burn for all I care. But I don't. Know.”

 For a few seconds, there was silence. Crowley had multitudes of reasons not to believe her. After all. Hunter. Manipulator. Lying was kind of her forte. However, looking into her eyes, he couldn't help but want to trust her words. To unlock those restraints and set her free. But one thing still nagged at him.

 Slowly, almost cautiously, the King stood from his perch, stepping around his chair to stand before the girl. Sometimes, he could forget how small she was. With a mouth like that, it was easy to neglect how truly fragile a human soul could be, even one as tough as hers. But now, he could see something; lurking in the back of her mind, standing just beyond the shadows.

 He crouched before her, reminiscent of their previous meetings, a curious, wondering look upon his rugged face.

“Though I must admit, I am under every inclination to believe you… I am curious…”

 He braced his hands on either side of her, thumbs grazing her outer thighs as he angled himself even closer, as if the proximity would easier reveal her secrets.

“...What makes you so keen on world destruction? As a member of the human race, you’d think you would be quite object to the idea of world wide extinction.”

 As quick as it appeared, the softness subsided, gaze hardened like glass against his own dark one. When no answer came, a short chuckle emitted from the demon, smirk wide and amused.

“Ooh, sore subject, I see? Well, obviously something happened along the way to taint your view of your own species. Tell me,”

 A growl seeped from the back of Elizabeth’s throat, but still he pressed on, determined to figure her out.

“Tell me, how old were you? You know, when you lost faith in humanity. 14? 20? Was it a boyfriend? A sister?”

 Silence was his only answer, much to his dismay. Contrary to his flippant tone, Crowley was genuinely curious. However, it was obvious she was adverse to the subject, to say the least. So, hopping up, back on his feet, Crowley dared a bold move; he lightly tucked a loose strand of hair back behind Elizabeth’s ear, not missing the subtle flutter her eyes gave. Curiously, her gaze remained on the floor, as if...ashamed. Of what, Crowley couldn't be sure. At least, not for a few moments.

 As he turned to leave, hand almost on the door, she piped up, tone low and murmuring, as if speaking too loud would be blasphemy.

 “Seven.”

 He stopped dead in his tracks, fingers frozen mid air as her answer washed over him.

“....I’m sorry?”

 Her voice was shaky again, but for a much different reason than before.

“You asked when I lost faith. I was seven.”

 Pivoting on the balls of his feet, Crowley’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. How could you come to such a cynical conclusion at seven bloody years old???

 He was almost afraid to ask. But, apparently, he didn't have to. All through her speech, Elizabeth’s eyes remained cast on the floor, voice quiet, almost fearful of what saying this truth aloud could mean.

 “It was February. A few days before my birthday. For some reason it had snowed during the day, I remember because I’d spent the entirety making snowmen. After every one, I prayed to a different angel, wishing to be taken far, far away...For social services to bring me to some orphanage, or to be kidnapped or something. I wasn’t sure exactly where I wanted to go, but...but, yeah. A few days before my birthday. It was nighttime, and all the people had gone to bed. Which meant it was time for the gross smelling amber stuff to come out. I know what it was now, but then?”

 She gave a sad huff of a laugh.

“I was so naive. I thought it was a...a potion that made you angry. And violent. I thought it was evil. Some form of witchcraft, or something...Which is why I never made a sound as I waited for the nightly visit from my father.”

 The way Elizabeth spit the word out, as if it tasted bad on her tongue, made Crowley’s gut twist. He wanted to ask her to stop. He knew where this was going.

 Instead, he sat back down, eyes trained on her face even as hers remained downcast.

“Any minute, he would walk through the door, and...and...but then, there was yelling. The sound of glass breaking, a loud thump. Two gunshots. For a moment, I-

 Her lip quivered, causing her to pause. Quickly, she regained her composure, even as her voice trembled with unshed tears. She seemed to be looking everywhere but at Crowley.

“For a moment, I hoped that maybe he’d offed himself. That he had shot the nanny, or the dog, and then himself. I prayed to every angel I could name that I was finally free. Or that someone had broken in. Had killed them all. That I was ne-ext.”

 For the first time, Liz’ eyes drifted towards his, that fire he so loved snuffed by the memories.

“I was seven. And I hoped beyond hope that I was alone. Seven years old, and praying for death.”

 Her gaze dropped yet again, mind caught up in the past.

“But my prayers went unanswered. My door slammed open, and there he was. Brandishing a still smoking shotgun as he glared at me with such hatred. Such anger. His own child, and he hated her guts.”

 Suddenly, her tone evened, the thickness gone in a matter of moments. The next sentences were uttered in an almost terrifying monotone.

“He grabbed me by the hair, dragged me through the house, and tossed me outside without a second thought. Didn't bother with a coat. Or food. Just tossed me out like the trash I was. Didn’t spare a second when I screamed, tears freezing on my cheeks as I saw my mother, half her face missing and splattered on the wall. Maybe that was why I didn’t jump, or scream, when I heard a third gunshot. Why I didn't run for help. Why I didn’t pray. No angel had answered my calls. Nobody had saved me. I couldn’t rely on anyone. I didn’t just lose faith in my father, or in humanity. I lost faith in Heaven. In God. If he truly existed, if his angels were so good and just, they wouldn’t have left me alone. Left me to suffer, to die.”

 A single tear slipped past her cheek, even as her beautiful face remained stoic and expressionless. Gradually, she glanced up, a new fire lit in her gaze, this one angry and vengeful, like a witch’s pyre.

“Is that what you wanted, Crowley? My sob story?”

 For the first time in his entire existence, Crowley was speechless. What could he have said? There were no words to describe what he was feeling, no words to make it better. This was a very old, very infected wound, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

 It wasn't until he was stood before her that he realized he’d been unconsciously walking, reaching for her restraints without having to think about it. Elizabeth’s face contorted in confusion as the shackles were removed, chains and rope untangled to let her loose. Without a word, Crowley snapped his fingers, transporting them outside some rusty old bunker.

 Crowley couldn’t even force himself to look at her, afraid she’d see the emotion in his eyes, the anger burning in his chest as he thought of what’d happened to her.

 “You’re free to go.”

 The shock on her face was evident, auburn eyes wide, jaw slack.

“W-what?”

 It took every ounce of self control he had not to kiss that dumbstruck look off her face.

“You don’t know where the box is. There’s no point in torturing you for info you don't have. I will just have to find some other way. In the meantime, you’re free. To go. This,”

 The King gestured widely, focusing on the abandoned warehouse to keep from meeting her gaze.

“This, is the Winchester’s ‘secret hideout’. They’ll patch you up, keep you safe, all that jazz. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have very pressing matters to attend to. Tell Moose and Squirrel I said hello.”  

 Then, without giving her a chance to speak, Crowley snapped his fingers, returning to his throne with the biggest only a slight urge to return and snuggle kiss her senseless.

______________________________________________________________

What. In. The. FUCK. Just. Happened???

 That was all Elizabeth could think for a solid five minutes, staring at the spot Crowley had been just moments before. It wasn't until the cold set in that she remembered, hey, she was kinda bleeding out all over the place. As quick as she could, the blonde limped towards the warehouse looking building, rapping as steadily as possible on the metal door. An iron slot was pulled back, eyes she knew all too well peeking out before widening almost comically, fumbling to yank to entrance open with a gasp.

“Elizabeth?!”

 She tried for a reassuring smirk, only succeeding a grimace as she stumbled forward into Sam’s arms. Head against his chest, she could feel his heart quicken as he took in the blood, quickly lifting her and kicking the door closed as he rushed towards what looked like a library.

“DEAN! DEAN, C’MERE, IT’S LIZ!!!”

 It wasn’t ten seconds later the man in question stumbled into the room, almost tripping in his haste. A short growl left his throat at the sight of her, not hesitating as he helped get the matted rags that used to be her clothes out of the way, while Sam searched for a first aid kit.

 Elizabeth scoffed at the worried glances the older Winchester kept giving her, the sound forced and laced with pain.

“Don't worry about me, Thumper, I’ll be fine. Just need to rest up a few hours.”

 Sam rolled his eyes, making his way over to investigate the wounds.

“I just need to rest up a few hours,” He mocked her, raising the pitch of his voice an octave to do so.

“There’s only serious damage done to my torso and limbs, it’s no biggie!”

 Elizabeth deadpanned, ignoring the snickers coming from Dean.

“Are ya done, Sasquatch? Im kinda busy bleeding out here.”

 There was no playfulness in Sam’s face as he cleaned up around the wounds, clenching his jaw every time she winced. It was silent for practically half an hour as they stitched her up, disinfecting as they went along. Finally, almost finished, Dean piped up.

“So, where were you, anyway? One day you just up and vanished! No note, all your stuff where you left it. I mean, we checked everywhere. Nobody had seen or heard from you in weeks!”

 A soft sigh escaped the petite girl, glancing between the boys thoughtfully.

“...honestly?”

 They nodded. Elizabeth took a deep breath.

“Hell.”

 The word resonated in the room, shock clearly painted on the faces of her ‘brothers’. It took a few seconds for them to find any words, even more to put them in a sensible order.

“Wait, wait...Hell?! You were in Hell?!?!”

 She gave a small nod.

“Yeppers. I was on a supply run, when demons cornered me. I wasn't fast enough, and they got the upper hand. Apparently, Mr. Crowley is very interested in a case of ours, and thought I had answers. Which obviously...I didn't.”

 At the mention of the demon, Dean’s jaw clenched, fists gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turned white. Even Sam, the usually calm one, seemed pissed, flipping his knife back and forth in his hands agitatedly.

 Attempting to sit up, Elizabeth winced, landing back on the table with a thud. After a few moments of tense silence, she spoke.

“...he wants the box.”

 Dean groaned and rolled his eyes, heaving a long sigh that slurred into the beginning of his sentence.

“Uuugghh, of course he does.”

 Sam’s eyes furrowed, glancing over her wounded figure thoughtfully.

“Wait a minute...you’re pretty beat up.”

 A bitch face.

“Oh really? Thanks for lettin’ me know, Sasquatch, I hadn’t noticed.”

 He rolled his eyes.

“No, I mean: You couldn’t walk more than five feet on your own. How in the hell did you escape...well...Hell??”

 Elizabeth opened her mouth. Closed it again. Began to talk, stopped.

 After a few seconds of thinking, she spoke again, quieter this time.

“He...he let me go.”

 The room went dead silent, both pairs of eyes trained on her face. Dean was the first to recover.

“He what?! Sorry, I thought you said he let you go.”

 “....he did.”

 Sam crossed his arms, while Dean threw his arms up in the air, looking the epitome of exasperated.

“W-why?! Why would he just let his hostage go, it doesn’t make sense! I mean, unless-”

 The older brother suddenly stopped talking, causing Liz to glance up at him. His eyes told a story of possible betrayal. She didn't even need to hear him say it.

“Liz, did yo-”

 “What? Dean, no. I would never!”

 He held his hands by his face in a defensive manner.

“Liz, if you made a deal-”

 Suddenly, she was angry. Angry at Dean for insinuating that, angry at Sam for just standing by and letting him, angry at Crowley for confusing her so much. Even those old, vengeful thoughts rammed their way into her skull, reverberating in her chest. She was angry at Heaven, and Hell, and everything in between. So pissed, she couldn’t even breathe.

 “How could you even-”

 And then, just as suddenly. She wasn’t. As Elizabeth thought about it, she hadn’t been angry in a long, long time. When she first started hunting, when she first met the boys and John, she was so vengeful. She was furious, at everything and anything. Every monster was her dad, every victim her mom. It faded ever so slightly over time, so gradual she hadn't noticed. Until she met Castiel. And Balthazar. And Gabriel. And suddenly, she was mad again. This time at Heaven, at all the angels in the sky who had heard her. Heard her cry, heard her pray, and did nothing.

 But then....that faded, too. All the hatred she had felt, all that rage, melted into...fatigue.Routine. Elizabeth tried so hard to be angry at Dean, to will up a comeback, to start screaming. But....she couldn’t.

 It was almost like they could sense her mood swing, could see the defeat in her eyes. Something more than if she’d made a deal, or bribed Crowley somehow. Sam straightened, going to stop her as she gripped the table for leverage, heaving herself to her feet. He reached, fingers brushing her arms.

“Liz, no, you’re gonna tear your stitches-”

 “Don’t touch me!” She spat, stumbling to her feet.

 Sam retreated as if he’d been burned. Which he might as well have. She’d never snapped at him. Ever. Not in the 19 years she’d known him. Even Dean seemed rattled, regret filling his gaze at what he’d said, how little he seemed to trust her. That’s not how he meant to come off. It didn’t matter to her. She wasn’t looking. Instead, Liz limped her way down the hallway, slowly but surely moving towards one of the empty rooms she’d noticed while being stitched up. Neither stopped her as she slammed the door.

 ~~~~~~

 She didn’t speak for weeks. Didn’t leave her room. Sam brought food, left it at the door. She wouldn’t take it if he was there. She’d never tell them why she did it. That being in a small space, alone, was comforting. That while she’d been tortured, those hours by herself had been a blessing, that she’d trained her mind to think “alone=alive”. That every small noise outside her door caused her to flinch, anticipating a demon to come back and carve into her again. She would never tell them about the nightmares. How she woke up at 3 in the morning, every morning, breathing heavy with tears running down her face, skin sticky with sweat. She’d never mention these things, not even when she finally walked into the kitchen one morning, eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. Eating the breakfast Sam placed in front of her without a word. Reading quietly in the library. Staying there for hours, staring at the same pages, the same words.

 She wouldn’t tell them when she slipped from the Bunker, to an old abandoned shrine a few miles away. She wouldn’t tell them how she’d easily broken in. She wouldn’t tell them when she spotted what they’d been looking for for months.

 She wouldn’t tell them that she’d found Pandora’s box.

______________________________________________________________

As he appeared, Crowley furrowed his brow, confused. Looking her over, up and down, he almost didn’t recognize the ravishing woman in front of him. It’d been so long since he saw her actually healthy, he’d nearly forgotten how breathtaking she could be.

 Elizabeth stood before the King, no long malnourished, yet not muscly as he expected. A loose pair of jeans adorned her long legs, paired with a stretched out shirt and boots. The tank top formed beautifully around her curves, cleavage ever present above the collar. Her hair looked soft, almost white curls falling elegantly around her shoulders. But it was her eyes that caught his attention. That fire, the blaze of justice and strength that he so loved, seemed...dull. Fake. Like she was trying so hard to seem alright, but she wasn't. It shouldn’t have hurt him like it did.

 That’s when he noticed where they were. A crossroads. But nobody else was there.

 He smirked, trying to put off his growing dread.

“Well, don't you look lovely, darling. Can't say I’m not happy to see you...but where could my client have gone? Don’t tell me you scared them off.”

 “...you’re lookin’ at her.”

 He almost winced.

 Keeping up the whole ‘asshole king’ schtick, Crowley sighed, giving a pleasant smile.

“Come on, darling. Really? After all that fighting, now you wanna deal? I don't give second chances.”

 Her smirk matched his own.

“You will if I have what you want.”

 “What could you possibly have that I-”

 He stopped. Tilted his head. Assessed her expression.

“....The box?”

 The smallest inclination of her head. A real, giddy smile lit up his face. Finally.

 But…

“Hold on...I thought you didn’t know where the bloody thing is?”

 Crowley sarcastically gasped, placing a hand over his heart.

“I’m hurt.”

 Elizabeth rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a miniscule smile. Suddenly, she placed her own hand on her chest, matching his tone almost...playfully. He could barely hear her over the pounding in his ears.

 “I would never lie to you, Growley. I had no idea where the box was, honestly.”

 She dropped the act, spreading her arms wide.

“But now, I do.”

 Again, he sighed, taking a few steps closer.

“And why, exactly, would I not just torture you for that information?”

 A smartass shrug.

“Didn’t work before.”

 “Yes, but, you didn’t have info then. Now, you do.” He murmured, mocking her words of before. She gave a fake pout, drawing Crowley’s attention to her full lips.

“Aww, your Majesty, I thought you loved polite conversation!”

 She suddenly gave a wicked smile.

“And I know you love to deal.”

 He couldn’t help but grin back.

“A woman after my own heart.”

 Again, the King took a step towards her, merely a foot across from the small woman. From here, he could perfectly see the different flecks of yellow and orange in her eyes, bringing such warmth and passion into the auburn depths. There was something different, though. Something that he couldn’t quite place, but seemed awfully familiar. Still, he ignored it, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if bothered by the chill, when in fact he couldn’t feel a thing.

“So.”

 Her gaze flicked to his, and it was only then he realized she was checking him out. Crowley smirked, winking playfully at the blonde. To his surprise, a soft blush dusted her cheeks. He forced himself to believe it was just the cold air.

 He continued, staring deep into her eyes.

“Where’s the box?”

 Elizabeth smirked, shrugging yet again.

“I can't tell you. Not until we deal. You get the box. I get what I’ve always wanted. I think it sounds pretty damn fair, don’t you?”

 He shrugged back, just to annoy her. He loved the frustrated gleam in her eye.

“Perfectly. So, what can I do for you, love, hm? Money, fame...a Lithuanian prostitute?”

 Slowly, in the seconds of silence that followed his statement, Elizabeth’s facade cracked, revealing the full expression he’d glimpsed minutes ago. That had seemed hauntingly familiar. He’d seen it when she was talking about her past. About being abused and raped and tossed away. It was pure defeat. Fatigue so deep, no amount of sleep could heal it.

 Her next words felt like he’d been stabbed in the lungs.

 “...kill me.”

______________________________________________________________

Elizabeth couldn’t read his face, which scared her more than anything. After her statement, his expression slackened, completely blank for the longest time. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke, tone softer than she’d anticipated.

 “Why?”

 A sigh escaped her, eyes trained on the snow dusted dirt beneath her feet.

“Because I’m tired, Crowley. Tired of hunting. Tired of fighting. Tired of getting up every morning, dreading the day because it’ll just be more of the same. Going through the motions. Pretending to be there. Pretending to be angry, acting like I give a shit about what happens to the world.”

 She looked at him then, astonished by the emotion in his gaze. She decided she was imagining it. He didn’t care. He was curious. He didn’t care. He didn't care.

“I’m so tired. So please. Just kill me. Hellhounds, maybe, to seem like I put up a fight. Just...please.”

 Slowly, ever so slowly, Crowley moved towards her, now a mere inch away. She could touch him if she wanted. Which she definitely didn’t want. At all. She did.

 Then he pulled an angel blade from his jacket.

“Gladly.”

 She almost flinched. But then, her eyes shifted, catching the motion of his hand as he flipped it to face towards him, point pressed against his sternum.

“Right after I kill myself.”

 A gasp left her, hand grabbing the blade without her consent and dropping it to the ground. She stared at it, breathing hard as she realized what’d happened. How quick her reaction was. How strong the urge to protect him had been. How angry she was that he’d try and pull something like that.

 “No.”

 Feeling his fingertips on her chin, Elizabeth looked up, not even concealing the tears in her eyes. Crowley’s gaze was almost tender as he caught one beneath his thumb, wiping it away while maintaining eye contact. His next statement caught her completely off guard.

“Then don't ever, ask me to do that again. Understand?”

 Though his tone was gentle, it left no room for argument. She couldn’t even nod. Just stood, confused, unconsciously leaning into his hand.

 “...why?”

 She hated how weak she sounded in that moment. Voice shaky, thick with tears, breathing fast and short. He took a while thinking, grazing his thumb over her lips while doing so. Eventually, he spoke, though not about what she expected. Or wanted.

 “New deal.”

 Though kind of disappointed, she nodded anyway, curious as to what this entailed. He had a mischievous gleam in his eye, drawing the tiniest of smiles from the blonde. He seemed to have that effect.

“New deal is: You show me where the box is...and I take you away from this life.”

 Her smile grew, liking this deal already. A shaky laugh left her.

 “H-how?”

 “Simple, my dear. You could stop hunting. No more fighting, no more bruises. No more broken bones or broken hearts. You would live in luxury. Anything you could ever want...like a queen.”

 Her breath halted, eyes widening. She didn’t dare let herself hope, but...could he mean..

?

 Elizabeth’s voice was trembling with barely contained joy, expression melting into an impish grin. She hesitantly moved closer, their bodies almost pressed together by that point.

“And...w-whose queen would I be?”

 His smirk softened to a fond smile, searching her gaze apprehensively.

“Well...mine, hopefully.”

 She couldn’t help the face splitting smile that graced her lips, shocking even herself at the giggle that escaped her chest. She mischievously placing her arms on his shoulders as she pretended to think.

“Hmm...I dunno. Does Lucifer need a queen anytime soon?”

 “That’s not funny.”

Even as the words were said, Crowley had a million dollar grin on his face, as if he just won the lottery. Which, unbeknownst to her, was exactly how he felt.

 She still couldn’t believe how quickly he’d turned her mood around. Just an hour before, she was ready to die. Now? For the first time, in a long time, she was excited to live. Without pain. Without hunting.

 Hunting.

 Elizabeth grimaced, thinking of the Winchester boys. They were like her brothers, how could she just become the Queen of Hell, and not betray them? How could she hand over Pandora’s box, and allow Crowley to take over everything, and not hurt them in the process?

 “Moose and Squirrel will not be harmed, if that’s what you’re thinking. Earth, pretty much, I’ll leave alone. No need to mess with the livestock.”

 She gave a playful glare, only causing him to waggle his brows suggestively. After a few moments she couldn't help her laugh, leaning her forehead against his chest as her giggles faded. A soft sigh left the blonde as he wrapped his arms around her body, soft black material encasing her, trapping his body heat in to block the cold.

 “So.”

 His voice broke through her thoughts, causing her to look up into his dark eyes expectantly. He smirked and winked.

“Should we seal this deal, then?”

 Pretending to be exasperated, Elizabeth heavily sighed, acting annoyed before reaching up and crashing her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

 She would never tell the Winchesters how close she came to death. She would never mention how relieved she’d been when Crowley pulled out the blade. Or how scared when he turned it on himself. She’d never tell them how soft his lips had been as she kissed him, relishing the dig of his fingers at her hips as he groaned, the embrace long in the making. She’d never tell them about showing him the crypt where the box was hidden, protected from all eyes in Ancient Greek letters even time had forgotten about. She’d never tell them about the first night she spent in Crowley’s castle, falling asleep quickly. How, for the first time in weeks, she slept soundly, waking more rested than she’d ever been. She’d never tell them the feeling of opening her eyes to see Crowley staring back, not having had to sleep yet staying by her side anyway, just to make sure she was alright. She would never tell the boys the rush of relief and peace she felt that morning. How, for the first time in her life, she was home. Even in this weird, unlikely romance, she felt safe. Warm.

 She would never tell the Winchesters the story of her ascent to the throne, or of the love her and Crowley shared.

 And she would never tell Crowley that, in finding him, and the passion and dedication he showed her everyday, she’d found it. What she’d been missing her whole life.

She’d never tell anybody but Castiel. That, in finding her king;

 She’d found her faith.

(HUGS AND KISSES FOR ALL OKAY, LUV YA, BABES!!!! ~Ali)

[agonycrowned-blog]

❛ WELCOME, WELCOME, to club PARA X NOIR. a club designed to TANTALISE your every sense. the year, 1922, the peak of BURLESQUE && SEXUALITY in AMERICA. a club formed during prohibition, a most exclusive invite only club - where only those who know the location can find it, where the RICH && FAMOUS come to play. there a RUMOURS or whispers that people aren’t who they seem, that creatures exist && that the CLUB OWNER is associated with CRIME. the WOMEN are beautiful, the MEN are beautiful, even the MUSIC is beautiful. ❜

J O B S

dancers, burlesque performers, musicians, bartenders, security, front of     house, drug cartel, etc etc.

G U I D E L I N E S;

verse tag is: gv ( we’re all stars in the dope show. )

supernatural / crime verse.

please note, drug cartel jobs must be discussed prior!! and dancers and performers MUST have stage names.

must be an INDIE rp account !! multi muses are okay. oc & literature muses are okay as well.

muses from any fandom are welcome !!

ooc drama is not okay, ic drama is very okay.

in this verse there are only humans, vampires, demons, succubus,  warlocks,  werewolves.

be friendly !!

try to respond to people’s open starters in the tag.

TO JOIN: message me ( @agonycrowned ) with your character name, age, species, job, face claim,  url and mun name.

C A S T;

Charles Crowley ( known as Crowley ); unknown age, DEMON, THE BOSS mark sheppard ( @agonycrowned / sash.  )

Elena Gilbert ( known as HAZEL ), 22, HUMAN, DANCER, nina dobrev. ( @compassicn )

Dean Winchester, 29, HUMAN, BARTENDER, jensen ackles, ( @gunsworn, darian )

Deanna Winchester ( known as JADE ), 26, HUMAN, DANCER, anne vyalitsyna, ( @feminafortis / louise. )

Rhiannon Peterson, 21, HUMAN , MUSICIAN , dove cameron, ( @smolblvndiiie / rina ). 

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Living With Regrets - Part 9: Savior

Characters: Reader (Y/N), Jensen Ackles, Rebecca (OC), Michael (OC), Misha Collins, Jared Padalecki, Mark Sheppard, Detective Ramsey (OC), unnamed detective, unnamed SWAT cops, unnamed EMTs, Unnamed Doctors, Unnamed nurses, Unnamed intern.

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Warnings: Character Injury, Injury to a child, surgery, character death,

Wordcount: 7500ish

A/N: This was a one shot - due to interest I worked on a storyline for a part 2 - it now has 10 parts planned.

Thanks a billion to @blacktithe7 for being beta that she is! And thanks to her for being patient and listening to all my whining over this one.

No hate towards Danneel. Let’s just pretend she is happy with someone else. This is fiction.

MASTERPOST

Jensen felt as if his heart stopped beating when the gunshot sounded through the air. The second he and Y/N landed on the ground, his hands started roaming her body, checking her for injuries. It didn’t take her long to start doing the same to him, but Jensen barely registered their shared panic.

“Y/N/N. Baby, are you hurt?” Jensen almost shouted at her, and he drew a sharp breath when she shook her head. Her hands landed on his neck forcing him to look at her. “You?”

The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind until that second, and it took a few seconds to feel his body, before he too shook his head. “I’m good.”

Jensen quickly turned his head to see Michael lying dead on the ground a few feet away. Jensen knew the police had to be in the building somewhere working their way towards them. He could only assume a sniper had taken out Michael, since they weren’t surrounded already. Y/N gasped beside him as she saw the lifeless man. “Is he?”

“Yes.” Jensen replied, feeling a strange mix of relief and anger. Michael had gotten off to easy. He deserved much worse than a quick death like that, but atleast now he couldn’t hurt his girls anymore. His girls. Jensen felt the panic rise inside of him. As his eyes met Y/N’s, he knew she was thinking the same thing. Both of them got back on the feet at the same time. Jensen were sure she would have jumped into the 30 ft deep hole after their daughter had he not wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist .

Y/N kept calling out to Rebecca, but the little girl stayed still on the ground, 3 floors below them. Jensen felt his stomach turn as he saw her lifeless little body, but he refused to believe his rising fear. She was going to be okay. She had to be.

“Let go!” Y/N started struggling against him, tears rushing down her cheeks, breaking Jensen’s heart into even smaller pieces.

“Y/N stop! Please. I’ll get her! Let me get her?” he pleaded with her, and she relaxed in his arms, looking up at him with tears still streaming from her eyes.

“Jensen I can’t lose her. I…” she sobbed, and Jensen instantly wrapped his arms around her. She didn’t have to say anything. He felt it too. Her every fear and love for their daughter he shared with her. Jensen cupped Y/N face in his hands and sent her a soft smile. “I’ll get her back to you. I promise.”

She nodded, and Jensen pressed his lips against her forehead before releasing his hold on her. He didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare. He wanted to lay in bed with Y/N in his arms as Becca came busting through the doors and started jumping on them. He needed his kid to be okay.

Jensen spotted a cable leading down in the hole near one of the wall. He grabbed onto it, but before he could start his descent, Y/N’s hands were on his face pulling him towards her lips. She took him completely by surprise, but still, he let her kiss him. Y/N kissed him so passionately she almost took his breath away. Jensen leaned into her kiss, letting them melt together, assuring himself she was real. She was alive and unscattered. Michael hadn’t taken Y/N from him.

Their kiss was short but filled with love, desperation, and hope. She rested her forehead against his when she finally broke the kiss. Tears were swimming in her eyes as she stared into his. Jensen swallowed harshly. He hated leaving her up here alone. He knew she needed him, but he also didn’t have choice.

“Jensen, please be careful,” she begged, and Jensen sent her a soft smile, before pressing his lips against hers in a quick kiss.

“I’ll be fine,” Jensen promised her before starting his descent. His mind was with his girls as he climbed. They were with Becca and how he had taken her Christmas shopping without Y/N a few days ago.

Jensen smiled as he watched Rebecca skipping and singing a few steps ahead of him. Her eyes were glued to the Christmas lights of the mall, and Jensen’s were glued to her. Not because he was scared of lose sight of her. Rebecca was a smart kid, and she never really seemed to stray far from either him or Y/N, no matter where they had taken her. No matter how excited she got, she didn’t break away from them. She wanted to share her joy with them, and Jensen loved that about her. He love seeing the world through his little girl’s eyes.

“Daddy?” Becca’s little hand found his and Jensen looked down at her with a smile. “What’s up Pumpkin?”

“What are you going to get mommy?” she said with a serious frown on her face, and Jensen had to fight to hold back his laughter. He loved when she got thoughtful and serious. She reminded him of Y/N and the way she had been staring at her script trying to memorize her lines the day he had first laid eyes on her. That had been the day he knew she would steal his heart. She had, and she had kept taking his breath away ever since, just like their daughter.

“I don’t know, Becca.” Jensen bent down and lifted her onto his arm. He pressed a kiss against her cheek, making her giggle and hide her face against him. Jensen felt a warmth rush through him as she did. Nothing was ever going to beat this feeling. Rebecca’s love and affection towards him never ceased to make his heart swell.

“That’s why I brought the expect,” Jensen stated, and Becca lit up with a big smile before a thoughtful frown slide across her face. She chewed her small lip, just like Y/N did when she was was trying to decide something, and Jensen couldn’t help but hold his daughter a little closer.

“Grandma has this necklace. It opens up and there is a picture of Mom inside it. Maybe you could get Mom one and put a picture of you and me inside it?” Becca looked up at him, and Jensen stared at her in awe. Jensen kept being surprised at how thoughtful and observant this little girl really was. She loved with all of her heart, and she showed the people around her how she felt. Jensen was lucky to be one of the people she cared so much about.

“That is a way better idea than anything I could have thought off,” Jensen answered her truthfully and smiled as Rebecca threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

“I won’t tell it was my idea Daddy,” she whispered against him. “Mom will love it. I know she will.”

Jensen tried to fight his tears as he held his daughter close. In that moment, he realized she had been aware of all the fighting. She had known what it was about, and her not calling him dad until they were under the same roof was her fear of losing what she had gained. Jensen gently ran his hand through her long y/h/c hair as he held her tightly against him.

“I love you and your mom so much, Becca,” he told her, and he felt her snuggle a little closer to him before she whispered.

“I love you too, Daddy. So does Mommy.”

Jensen was pulled from his memory when he lost his footing a few feet from the bottom of his climb. He slipped from his cable rope and fell. His stomach clenched in fear as he did. He didn’t fear the pain of getting hurt as much as he feared him getting hurt would mean he couldn’t get to Becca. Jensen landed on the ground with a thumb, and Y/N’s scream rang through the air.

“Jensen!”

He groaned in pain, but quickly realized he weren’t hurt too badly. He pushed himself onto his knees before looking up at her, wanting her to see he was okay. He could see the relief on her face even from this distance, and he smiled at her to let her know he wasn’t hurt. He had earned a few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise he had been lucky.  

“I’m fine, honey!” he called up to her before pushing himself onto his feet and heading towards Becca who were still lying completely lifeless a few feet away from him. Jensen knew he moved fast, but still it felt as if it took him hours to get to her. He was petrified of what he would see when he reached her. He prayed with all he had that she had just been knocked unconscious and that she would be fine.

Jensen lowered himself down at the little girls side. He swallowed harshly when he saw the dried blood on her arms. Jensen took a deep breath, forcing the fear away so he could examine her. None of the cuts seemed to be more than superficial, and Jensen drew in a sigh of relief before he looked back up at Y/N. She was pale and quiet as she watched them, and Jensen sent her a small smile.

“She’s breathing. She is unconscious, but she seems okay!” Jensen called back up to her, causing an audible gasp to erupt from her lungs, and she fell to her knees just as Detective Ramsey appeared at her side.

“Mr. Ackles? Are you okay?” he called down, and Jensen nodded.

“I am good. My daughter might need help,” he answered, and Rebecca stirred at his side. Jensen instantly forgot the world around him, and his entire focus was on her. Small sobs passed her lips as she began waking up. Jensen’s breath quickened, and he fought his tears of relief as he watched her stir. She was afraid, but at least she was awake. At least she would know he was there.  

“Hey, hey. Pumpkin. You’re safe. Daddy’s here.” Jensen tried to calm her, and the little girl opened her eyes. She still looked terrified, and Jensen was ready to crawl back up the hole and kill Michael all over again, but he didn’t move. He kept calm. His daughter needed him to be there for her right now.

“He said he worked with Cliff. He said he was taking me to Mommy,” Becca sobbed as she started to apologize, knowing she wasn’t suppose to talk to strangers. Jensen sucked in a breath and gently stroked the hair away from her face. He wasn’t mad at her. He couldn’t be, and he didn’t want her to think that he was.

“Sweetheart, it’s not your fault. It’s okay. I’ll get you back up to Mommy okay?” Jensen promised her, smiling softly at her, more than a little relieved she sounded like herself.

“Mommy?” Becca’s lip quivered, and Jensen instantly moved out of her line of side, pointing to the floors above them where Y/N and the police had started to gather.

“Mommy’s right up there Becca. Waiting for you,” Jensen assured her, and Y/N’s voiced sounded instantly.

“Becca? Mommy’s here. Daddy’s gonna take care off you okay?” Jensen heart swelled and broke at the same time. Y/N’s voice with filled with confidence, but also so much pain. He didn’t have time to think too much of it though because Rebecca started moving, trying to push herself off the floor, and a cry fell from her lips.

“Stay still, Sweetheart. We’ll get you help.” Jensen tried to sound calm and keep his tears from rolling down his cheeks. Becca’s cries had tore a hole clear into his soul. She was in pain, and there was nothing he could do about it. “Where does it hurt Becca?”

“My stomach. My head. My arms stings,” she sobbed, reaching up to Jensen. He hated having to turn her down, but he knew she couldn’t move right now. He had no idea what she might have injured in her fall.

“Sweetheart, you have to stay still,” Jensen tried, but Rebecca instantly started crying and screaming for him. Her screams tore at his heart. He couldn’t leave her. He threw all good sense to the wind and carefully lifted her into his arms. Her cries stopped in an instant, and she clung to him as if she was afraid he would disappear right before her. Jensen would have been lying if he said feeling her small frame in his arms didn’t comfort him as much as it did her. He had been more afraid than he cared to admit that he would never see her big green eyes again, so afraid that he had heard her voice for the last time, but here she was. Hurting but alive and safe in his arms. He needed to feel his daughter as much as she needed to feel him.

“Mr Ackles?” a voice sounded from the floors above, and Jensen looked up to see a cop connected to a wire. “I am gonna lower myself down to you and help get you and your daughter back up here.”

“Sounds good,” Jensen replied, rocking Becca as gently as he could, trying to keep her calm. Jensen’s eyes left the officer, who started his decent, and went straight to Y/N. He could see that she was crying even from down there.

“She’ll be fine,” Jensen mouthed up to her, giving her a reassuring smile as he refused to let his fears be shown to the mother of his child. Y/N nodded and forced herself to smile at him, wiping the tears from her eyes. God she was so damn strong. Jensen knew Rebecca was too. She was stubborn, strong, beautiful, and perfect. Just like her mom. They would make it through this. Jensen took a deep breath and turned his attention back to Rebecca just as the officer reached their level. Jensen pressed his lips against the little girl’s hair as he whispered too her, “We’re going up to see Mommy now.”

Jensen smiled as he heard her sniffle and felt her nod against his shoulder. She would be fine.

“Good job getting down here, Mr. Ackles.” The police officer smiled at him, pulling a stretcher from where it had been secured on his back. “We’re gonna get Rebecca up first.Then you will be lifted up. Okay?”

Jensen nodded but knew that was not going to be easy on the kid that was clinging to him like her life depended on it.

“Just put her on the stretcher. I will secure her, and she will be up in to time.” The officer smiled, and Jensen nodded again before he tried to pull back from his daughter a little, just enough to look at her, but she clung to him, burying her face in his neck and started crying again.

“No! Daddy! No!” she whined and pleaded as she clung to him, breaking Jensen’s heart.

“Becca… Sweetheart. I’ll be right behind you okay?” he tried as he stroked her hair and leaned down over the strether, hoping she would oblige. No such luck. She just screamed even louder, and Jensen instantly pulled back up,  gently rocking her again. He couldn’t do this to her. She had been scared long enough. He knew he could free himself of her and force her to stay calm, but he didn’t want too. Not only was he afraid she would hurt herself further, he also didn’t want her to be scared a second longer. She felt safe in his arms, and he wasn’t letting her go. Not for anyone or anything but her mom.  

“It’s okay. I’m right here, Becca. Daddy’s right here,” Jensen coed before facing the officer, who was staring at them with a frown. He saw just as well as Jensen did that this was not going to work. Forcing her onto the stretcher would mean risking making whatever injuries the kid may or may not have worse.

“Can you lift us out together?” Jensen asked, hoping with everything he had that there would be a way to make that work. He knew there was no way in hell Becca would let go of him for anyone or anything other than her mom.    

“I can’t wire her up like that,” the cop explained, clearly not thrilled about the situation, but Jensen didn’t budge.

“Wire me up. I got her,” Jensen insisted, and the cop frowned. “I got her!” Jensen said louder than before. He wanted to get Becca the hell out of there, and this was the only way to do it. She was safe in his arms. He wouldn’t let go for anything. He just needed the cop to see that.

“Alright.” He nodded before starting to talk Jensen through as he put the wire around his waist and thighs.

“Not the first time I been in one of these. I’m good,” Jensen answered. “Just get us up there.” The cop sent Jensen an impressed smile, before yelling up to his colleagues they were all set.

“Hey,” Jensen looked down at Rebecca who were still clinging to him. She tilted her head slightly and looked up into his eyes. “You’re gonna be fine, Becca. Just hang on tight okay? It’s gonna be just like being at the fair.”

The small pout didn’t leave her face, but at least she had stopped crying. At least she nodded, showing her trust in him, before burying her face against his neck once more. Jensen held her tightly against his chest as the wire slowly started their climb towards Y/N and the floor above them . He could feel Rebecca’s little arms tighten their hold on him as a little whimper escaped her lips.

“It’s okay baby,” he soothed, doing his best to hide his anxiousness. He wanted nothing more than to stay by her side. “I’ve got you. We’re almost there.”

He looked up to see how close the floor above them really was and let out a small sigh when he saw he hadn’t been lying. Finally his feet touched the platform, and he ran his hand soothingly over Becca’s hair.

“You did good, Pumpkin. We’re up. You were so brave,” Jensen praised the little girl who kept clinging to him.  

Jensen didn’t loosen his grip on Rebecca as the cop in front of him worked on freeing him from the harness ,and his eyes were glued to Y/N, who was calling out to her daughter. She was kicking and hitting detective Ramsey, trying to get loose from his hold. Finally, a well placed kick to the shine did the trick, and Y/N was at his side stroking Becca’s hair. Jensen couldn’t help but smile. Y/N was fierce. She always had been, but Jensen was starting to realize just how tough she really was. He couldn’t help but be proud of both his girls.

“Are you okay baby?” her voice almost cracked, and Jensen let go of Becca with one arm, pulling Y/N against his side. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Y/N’s hair. They were both safe and back in his arms where they belong. Jensen swore to himself he would never let anything happen to either of them ever again.

“I’m fine, Mommy. Did the bad man hurt you?” Rebecca’s voice was filled with worry, and Jensen’s heart swelled with pride. Michael had tossed the little girl 3 floors down a hole, and still she worried about her mom.

“No baby.” Y/N smiled through her tears, looking up at Jensen with a thankful expression on her face. “Mommy is okay.”

“Mrs. Ackles, we need to get your daughter to the hospital,” an EMT spoke next to her. Jensen’s heart skipped a beat when she didn’t object to the name. She just stroked her daughter’s hair again, before gently taking her from Jensen’s arms. Becca let go of Jensen and threw her arms around her mom’s neck. Still, her eyes never left him. She needed them both to be close, and Jensen had no objections. He wasn’t ready to let either of them out of his sight. He wrapped his arm protectively around Y/N’s waist and placed his hand on Becca’s back, walking with them out of the factory and towards the waiting ambulance.

Jensen watched as Y/N calmly lowered Rebecca down on the stretcher. He watched as she reminded the little girl of how she had been in an ambulance before when she had broken her arm falling from a tree.

“This is just like that baby,” Y/N explained, stroking her daughter’s hair. “Mommy and Daddy are still gonna be here. You just have to lie very still and let the doctor’s look at you while we drive okay?”

“Ma’am, I am sorry. We can’t fit you both in the ambulance,” the emt explained with a regretful expression on his face, and Rebecca instantly started crying. Before Y/N had time to react, Jensen knelt down besides her. He hated having to leave them, but he knew he had too. Y/N needed to be with her daughter, and Becca needed her Mom more than him right now.

“Hey Pumpkin, it’s gonna be okay. Mom is staying in here with you, just like the last time. Daddy is gonna be right behind you, and when you get to the hospital, we'll see each other again.” Jensen smiled at her, and Rebecca sniffled, looking over at Jensen.

“Promise?” she said with a small pout on her lips.

“I promise.” Jensen smiled at her before giving her check a small kiss. As the EMTs lifted Becca into the ambulance, Jensen turned to face Y/N. She instantly threw her arms around his neck, and Jensen wrapped his arms around her. A wave of relief washed over him. She was okay. Rebecca was going to be okay. All of this was over. Michael was dead.

“Drive safe,” Y/N whispered against his neck, and Jensen smiled, giving her a small squeeze. “Always,” he assured her with a smile as she pulled away. Her hand slid along his arm as she stepped towards the ambulance until their fingers locked.

“I love you, Jay.” Jensen could see the tears in her eyes as she spoke, and all he wanted to do was pull her back against him and hold her. She hadn’t shown her fears until now, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t been scared out of her mind. Now that Becca was with them and safely in the ambulance, she allowed herself to feel it for a second before having to be strong for their daughter once again.

“I love you too, “Y/N/N,” Jensen answered her. He hated that he could be with them right now, but this was how it was going to be. “I’ll be right behind you. I’ll be at the hospital soon okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded and sniffled. She quickly wiping her eyes and sent him a small smile before jumping into the ambulance with Becca seconds before the EMT closed the doors behind them.  

As soon as the ambulance lights went on, Jensen ran for the car, completely ignoring Detective Ramsey calling out behind him. He knew there were questions both he and Y/N needed to answer, but that had to wait. Right now all that matter was his little girl and the woman he had loved ever since he laid eyes on her almost 6 years ago. He needed to be by their sides. He needed to know Becca was going to be okay.

The tires spun when he pulled out of the ditch where he had left his car and raced after the ambulance.

Driving had become second nature to Jensen over the years of playing Dean. His muscles took over, and he just drove as his mind went to the little girl and the woman in the ambulance in front of him. He kept thinking about the way Becca had flinched in his arms. He knew she was hurt. Even if it wasn’t visible, she was hurt. He just hoped it wasn’t too bad. That the doctors could fix her fast, and they could go back to their lives. A life where Y/N no longer had to fear Michael. A life where they would all be together forever. Jensen wanted to to be with Y/N, and he wanted to be Becca’s dad. He knew he already was, but he wanted it to be official. The EMT calling Y/N Mrs. Ackles had made him realize just how much he wanted that. He wanted Y/N to be his wife and Rebecca to have his name. He wanted to love them and take care of them for the rest of his life.

A smile appeared on Jensen’s lips as his mind drifted back to the day he had taken Rebecca Christmas shopping.

“Mommy’s home!” Jensen smiled at the worried expression on his little girl’s face. A feeling of pride and love rushed over him as he saw her light up with a big smile. “I’ll distract her. You hide the present Daddy,” the little girl ordered before skipping through the hallway and into the living room where Y/N’s laughter instantly sounded, and Jensen knew she had been attacked by an eager three year old.

Jensen did as he daughter had told him too before walking into the livingroom. He stopped and leaned against the doorframe as he saw them. Y/N was sitting on the couch where she had been watching a TV show until Rebecca had jumped on her. Now she was sitting up with her daughter in her lap facing her. Rebecca was waving her arms and telling her mom about the Christmas decorations at the store and the picture her and Jensen had taken with Santa.

Neither of his girls noticed him as he stood there watching them, love and happiness filling his heart. Jensen was a lucky man, and he knew it. Y/N was gorgeous, kind, and funny. She was an amazing mother to their smart, beautiful little girl. These two girls were his entire world, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for them.

Jensen let out a small chuckle as Rebecca started listing things Y/N could buy him for Christmas, and the little girl instantly spun around with a frown on her face.

“Daddy, you’re ears dropping,” she scolded before a big smile appeared on her face. “Did you hide it?”

“I did. With my presents for you,” Jensen teased her, walking to the couch, and Becca grinned at him. “Where is that, Daddy?”

Jensen raised his brows at the little girl, but before he could reply, Y/N’s teasing voice sounded. “Yeah, Jay. Where is that?”

“Nice try,” Jensen chuckled before quickly wrapping his arms around both of them as he let himself fall onto the couch besides Y/N. Jensen started tickling their side, laughing as they squealed and playfully fought against him.  

Jensen’s heart stopped when he pulled into the parking lot behind the ambulance. The EMT’s were rushing Becca through the doors, and Y/N stood frozen in the parking lot with tears running down her face, her hands covering her mouth. Jensen jumped from the car. He needed to get to her, to comfort her and know what happened.

“Hey, hey, honey. I’m here.” Jensen ran his hand up and down her arms, trying to get her attention, and her eyes found his. Jensen felt a stab to his chest when he saw the pain and heartache behind her eyes. He instantly pulled her against his chest, holding her close to him. He kissed the top of her head before he finally dared asking her the question that was knagging in his mind.

“What happened?”

“She…said her stomach hurt, and then she lost consciousness. She started turning yellow, Jensen,” Y/N sobbed, looking up at him. Despite the dread he was feeling, Jensen wrapped his arms around Y/N, desperately trying to soothe her.

“It’s gonna be ok. She is with doctors now. She is strong. She’s gonna be okay,” Jensen repeated trying to make himself believe it as much as he needed Y/N too. Jensen stayed with her for a few minutes, holding her until he felt her unstable breathing calm down, but staying was getting harder and harder. He felt an invisible pull towards the hospital and his daughter.

“Baby, we need to get inside.” Jensen pulled her back a little, his eyes searching her eyes. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m right here,” Jensen tried to assure her as she fought to keep her breathing under control. Jensen breathed a sigh of relief when she nodded, and he took her hand, rushing them towards the entrance and their daughter.  

Had Jensen been alone in the waiting room where a nurse had placed them, he would have knocked the walls down. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to get to his daughter, but he had to stay calm for Y/N. She had gone blank again. She was staring out into the room, but unlike earlier today, she leaned on Jensen. Her hand was clutching his like she wasn’t planning on ever letting go of it again.

She barely reacted when Misha, Mark, and Jared entered the room. She didn’t say a word as Jensen filled them in, and she barely looked at Misha when he gave her free hand a squeeze. Jensen worried for her, but he knew this was how she was dealing. When things hurt to much, she shut the world around her off. Her clinging to him like she was was unusual and Jensen couldn’t let go. She needed him, and this was her way of showing it. No matter how much he was hurting himself, he was going to be strong for her.

Jensen couldn’t tell you how long they were in the waiting room for before the doctor appeared. Y/N and Jensen flew out of their seats simultaneously, but she never let go of him, nor did he of her.

“Miss Y/L/N. Can I talk to you in private?” the doctor started, but before he had a chance to lead her out of the room, she objected. Her voice was strong and clear, making Jensen so proud of her.

“Whatever it is you can say it infront of all of them,” Y/N insisted, and Jensen wrapped his arm around her, silently letting her know he was there for her.

“Mrs. Y/L/N, your daughter has a small concussion, but nothing to worry about. We detected a few minor internal bleeds, but as long as we keep an eye on them and make sure they heal probably…,” the doctor started explaining, and Jensen felt more and more relieved. Maybe she really was going to be okay. Maybe they had worried for nothing.

Y/N, however, didn’t hear what the doctor said the same way he did, and her voice sounded sharply next to him, almost making him jump. “But? Tell me what is wrong with my daughter!”

“Y/N/N,” Jensen tried to calm her, but the stern look she sent him was enough to silence him. Jensen’s eyes went back to the doctor, hoping with everything he had that Y/N had been wrong.

“Rebecca damaged her liver in the fall, Miss Y/L/N. I am so sorry, but there is nothing we can do. We put her on the donor list. She needs a new organ or a donation within the next 48 hours if…”

Jensen felt all the air leave his lungs with the doctor’s words, but he didn’t have time to feel it. Y/N collapsed next to him, and it was all he could do to catch her before she hit the floor.

“I am so sorry, ma’am, but we need to ask if we can test you? If you would be willing to donate if you are a match?” The doctor spoke softly, and Y/N nodded as she clung to Jensen as tears streamed down her face. “Yes! Yes! Test me.”

“Test me too,” Jensen ordered as he held Y/N up, and before the doctor had time to speak, Jared’s voice sounded behind them.

“Me too.”

“Test all of us,” Mark spoke next, and Jensen and Y/N looked back at their friends with tears in their eyes. Jensen loved his friends. He always had, but never more than in that second. It had never been unusual for the five of them to have each other’s backs, but hearing them offer to help saving his kid almost brought the tears that had threatened to spill for hours out of his eyes.  

“We usually start by testing family…” the doctor tried, but this time Misha interrupted him as he took Y/N’s free hand and sent Jensen a small nod.

“We are family! You said she doesn’t have much time. Test all of us now.” Misha rarely ordered people around, but his tone of voice left no room for argument and the doctor just nodded.

“I’ll set it up. A nurse will be out shortly to get you one by one.”

Jensen pulled Y/N back to the chairs as she clung to him. As soon as they were seated, Jensen wrapped his arms around her, holding her, taking as much comfort in her closeness as he tried to offer her with his. He knew there was a big chance Y/N was going to be a match since she was Becca’s mom. He knew it most likely would be the only way to save their daughter, still he didn’t want her to go through this. He held her like he would never let her go, and Jensen felt Y/N cling to him in much the same way.

He felt empty when she reluctantly left his arms to be the first tested. Still, he sent her a reassuring smile. Jensen broke the second the door closed behind her. He could no longer hold back his tears. Jared’s arms closed around Jensen in an instant, and he allowed himself to let go and feel it for a few minute. He allowed himself to feel the fear of losing Becca. He could barely breath just thinking about no longer having the spunky, sassy 3 year old in his life. He allowed himself to feel the relief that Michael was gone, that he could no longer hurt Y/N, and that at least she was safe.

After crying against his friend’s shoulder for a few minutes, Jensen pulled away and wiped his eyes. He couldn’t let her see him like this. He had to be strong for Y/N. He had to be strong for Becca. They both needed him now more than ever, and he couldn’t allow himself to fall apart. Not now. Not before all of this was over and Becca was safe and well.

When Y/N reappeared Jensen was called in, but as he passed her, he took her hand, giving it a small squeeze. The look she gave him was so full of fear that it almost made him break down again, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let her see that he felt the same way. He couldn’t let her see his fear and despair. So he turned away and walked towards the nurse and let the door close behind him. Jensen didn’t feel the needle or hear the nurse. He knew she talked to him through it all, but he couldn’t tell you what she had said. All the could think about was Y/N and Becca. All he could feel was the love he had for both of them and the cold terror spreading through his body. They couldn’t lose Becca. Jensen couldn’t lose his daughter now that he finally had her. He hadn’t gotten to see her first steps. He hadn’t heard her first words. He hadn’t held her the first time she got sick. He’d be damn if he didn’t get to see her graduation or walk her down the aisle at her wedding. He would hold her through this. She was going to be okay. She had to be.

Jensen was grateful to all his friends as he walked out into the waiting room. Mark was returning with a cup holder filled with 5 steaming cups of coffee. Misha’s arms were around Y/N, and Jared rubbed soothing circles on her back as she clung to Misha. Jared got up, giving Jensen a pat on the back before he disappeared the way Jensen had come. Jensen took Jared’s seat beside Y/N. Her arms instantly left Misha, and she leaned back against him.

She didn’t speak a word. She just clung to him, and Jensen held her. She was his comfort as much as he was hers. Jensen couldn’t tell how long they were in the waiting room for. How long it took to get Jared, Misha, and Mark tested or how long it took for the intern to appear in the room. As soon as he did though, Y/N was off her chair and if front of him.

“Was I a match?” Y/N pleaded with him. The intern instantly looked down, trying to get away from her questions, and Jensen felt a panic starting to rise inside of him. What if none of them were a match? He couldn’t lose his daughter. Not like this. Not after all they had been through. There had to be something they could do. He would do anything. Pay anything for any treatments. Anything that could keep her stay alive until a permanent fix was found. He didn’t care if he had to live in the damn hospital for a year. He was not leaving here without her.  

“I am sorry, Miss Y/L/N. I have to talk to you all separately,” the intern started before Mark’s voice boomed through the room. “If one of us is a match you can tell her. We got tested because we wanted to help. None of that has changed.”

Jared and Misha were quick to agree, and Jensen couldn’t hold back his smile. He wanted to hug them and thank them. He knew they weren’t lying. He knew that no matter who, if one of them were a match, they wouldn’t hesitate to go through surgery for his kid. Jensen wasn’t sure how he could repay them for this, but he was going to find a way.  

The intern nodded defeated. “Miss Y/L/N, I am afraid you weren’t a match, but her father…”

“Wait, because I am not a match her father has to be?” Y/N fought to understand, and Jensen saw the fear in her eyes. He stepped closer, resting her hand on her back realizing what the intern had said before Y/N did.

“I’m a match, Y/N,” Jensen spoke softly, and Y/N looked up at him, confusion written all over her face.

“How do you…” she questioned before her attention went back to the intern, and her voice got harsher. “What does the papers say? Jensen is a match?”

“Jensen Ackles, yes.” The intern suddenly looked slightly panicked, realizing what he was doing wasn’t by the book, but Y/N didn’t back down.

“And the papers say that he is Rebecca’s father? Her biological father?” Y/N pushed on, and Jensen tried to calm her but had no luck. Jensen knew they had always said who Rebecca's biological father was didn’t matter, but he had always known a part of Y/N had been lying. If it had ever turned out that Michael was the biological parent, not only would she have to have fight  tooth and nail to keep Becca away from him, but she would also have to face her past in an entirely different light. Rebecca would have been conceived when Michael had forced himself on Y/N, and Jensen knew that knowledge already weighed on her, even though she hid it well.

“I am sorry I can’t….” The intern tried, and Jensen wrapped his arm around Y/N, holding her back. He was afraid that if he hadn’t, she would have punched the poor doctor to be in the face.

“It’s okay. You’re not in trouble,” Jensen tried to calm the intern. “You can answer the question.”

The intern swallowed harshly. “Well, this is not a paternity test, but unless a blood relative of Mr. Ackles is an option, he is Rebecca’s father.”

Y/N’s legs gave out from under her ,and Jensen followed her down to the ground, carefully breaking her fall before wrapping his arms around her. Y/N’s arms closed around his neck, and she started crying.

Jensen could barely breath as the interns words played over and over again in his head. He had always been her dad. No matter what they could have ever found out, that wouldn’t change. Still, this made him feel even closer to both his girls than he already was. It made him feel relieved for all of the things Y/N didn’t have to go through. The way she reacted told him it had meant more to her than she had lead on. Even more that he had thought.

“I’m sorry. I need to know if you are willing to do the donation, Mr. Ackles,” the intern stuttered.

Jensen’s arms didn’t leave her as he replied. “I’ll do it. Just give us a minute, okay? Prep whatever you need too. I’ll do it.”

“Jensen…” Y/N sobbed, and he pulled her closer as he let the reality of what had just happened sink in. He hadn’t lied when he said it didn’t matter if he was her dad by blood or not, but he still felt relieved. She was his. Y/N would never have to think about Michael again. He was gone, and Rebecca was his daughter. Jensen could save their daughter.

“I’m sorry. I know I said it didn’t matter. I… it’s just…” Y/N looked up at him trying, to explain. Jensen knew she feared his reaction, but he just smiled at her, tenderly brushing her hair away from her face. He wasn’t mad at her. How could he be mad at her for wishing their daughter really was his and being happy when she found out she was. The years lost between them didn’t matter. That hadn’t for a long time, and this could never change that. Jensen loved Y/N more that she would ever know, but he would do his best to show her everyday.

“I know. It’s okay. I love you.”

Y/N’s hands cupped his face, and her teary eyes stared into his glassy ones. “I love you too. Help her, but I need both of you to come back to me okay?” Jensen’s heart swelled at her works, and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers.

“I am not leaving you. Never. Neither is Becca. She’s gonna be okay!” Jensen insisted as he stared into her eyes, willing her to believe what he did now. They were going to get through this. They were going to be a family again. Michael was nothing. He wasn’t going to take anything else from her. Jensen wouldn’t allow it.

That was the thought he held onto after he,and Y/N had held their daughter and promised her she was going to be okay, after Jensen had promised his little girl, “Daddy was going to make it all better.” That was the words he held onto as he watched Becca be wheeled down the hallway, before he kissed Y/N, promising her she had nothing to be afraid of. It was the words he held onto as he laid down on his own bed and let the doctors wheel him in the same direction they had taken Becca, as he watched over his shoulder to see Y/N cover her mouth with her hands. Their eyes locked just as Misha’s arms closed around her shoulder, and Jared and Mark showed behind her.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Jensen called back to her. “I love you.” He did. He loved Y/N and Becca more than anything. He loved them, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do for them. He loved them, and he didn’t regret a single action he had taken that day. He would jump infront of a gun for Y/N again. He would give up part of or an entire organ for Becca if she needed him too. They were his world, and he was going to make sure they were safe and loved for the rest of his life.   

Jensen Tag Team

@mysupernaturalfics @blacktithe7 @percywinchester27 @quiddy-writes @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @supernaturalyobessed @skathan-omaha @feelmyroarrrr @torn-and-frayed @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @mysteriouslyme81 @winchesterprincessbride @curliesallovertheplace @docharleythegeekqueen @faith-in-dean @ellen-reincarnated1967 @sleep-silent-angel @winchestdiaries @adriellej @moonstar86 @alexafromthefandom @atc74 @nikolanna @cyranodebergerac @brooke-supernatural16 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @melonberri @thatonehaspanicchick @stilinski15 @phoenixia67 @bringmesomepie56 @thebunkerismyhome @chaos-and-the-calm67 @jasminwild @anokhi07 @lilyleely @smoothdogsgirl @angelkurenai @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @charliebradbury1104 @chelseypaigeake @gecko9596 @katrena7 @thecynicalnerd @nichelle-my-belle @mouselovesmusic @lucifer-ismy-bae @sleepywinchester @tanithlowisabamf @deansleather @katnharper @secretlyfurrydragon @fangirl1802 @ashleymalfoy

LWR TAG TEAM:

@mrstheorossix3  @carry-on-my-waywayd-son2-5-24-1 @jxackles @arryn-nyx @volleyballer519 @spn-fan-girl-173 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @iamnotsaneatall @allinhishands @xxthevampirediariesexpertxx @http-loveyou @hillface89 @growningupgeek @inmysparetime0 @ryansgirl5509 @smoothdogsgirl @arryn-nyx @moonstonemystyk @my-brave-and-bold @loveitsallineed @nakedshowerdean @savannafayalove @percywinchester27 @mskitty416 @gecko9596 @20secspnfam4 @kristaparadowski @nerdwholikesword @driverpicksthemuusic @you-made-me-unbreakable​ @avasmommy224 @the-amaranthine @supernaturalyobessed @clariedelalune @remybosslika @loricwizardbluetoastedcake @marvelfreak019 @peachwizard @supernatural-jackles @chelsea072498 @im-super-potter-locked​ @dorky-and-i-know-it​ @mizzzpink @justmasblack @moonstar86 @wecanmakehellgreat @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @georgialouisea @waywardjoy @nlsupernatural @samdean-67 

[fyrapartnersearch]

greys anatomy?

Hey, hello, sup? I’m Salem, a 21 year old female who loves music, watches way too much tv, and loves animals more than life itself. Seriously. Ask me about my pets, I’ll talk for hours! I'm going to keep this pretty short and to the point: Right now, I'm really, really craving a Grey's Anatomy roleplay! I'm asking you play Derek Sheppard or Mark Sloan against an OC of mine, and I can play anyone for you! - 3rd person, past tense, paragraph style. I can go from writing one paragraph to writing novella style, it honestly just depends on my mood, inspiration and the scene happening! For fandom, I am looking for canon x oc, and if I’m looking for anything else I will specify. - I’m a crazy laid back person. I’m open for anything, throw your ideas at me. Even if they’re crazy and cliche, chances are, I’ll be down for them. That being said, I do not want to be the only one doing the planning. I usually have an idea for most of my fandoms/pairings, but give me your input! Don’t like something? Just let me know and we can come up with something we’re both content with. - We all have lives outside the internet, even I do. I don’t expect multiple responses a day, but more than one a week would be great! - I’m looking for a long-term partner. Please don’t contact me if you plan on leaving before the first reply. However, we’ve all ditched before. Life got in the way and I’ve done it too. While I won’t be too upset if you don’t want to roleplay anymore and just leave, a little heads up would be nice, and I’ll try and do the same! - When contacting me, don’t just put ‘want to rp?’ because chances are, I won’t respond. Tell me a little about you, roleplay style, limits, etc. And if you’ve read all this, please just tell me your favorite animal! email: aloneatmidnight4@gmail.com

[a-jynx]

Character/Actor Masterlist

SPN Taglist:  @laceyn-1201, @waywardnewcomer, @supernatural-teamfreewillpage, @i-hear-crazy-calling-my-name, @casiskween, @great-godpotato-akane, @closetspngirl, @specialagentlokitty, @dearsmileyman, @im–an–angel–you–assbutt, @destiel-trenchcoatangel, @msimpala67, @thetallassgirl@invisibledevour,@gabriels-trix, @gabby913, @xiumin-girl99, @stileslove, @fabinaforever11, @samwinchesterssexyface, @billiexmendes, @ilovemymoose, @hobby27, @moonlight-babeh, @moosekateer13, @exo-nova, @mlovesstories, @fabinaforever11, @shatteredabby, @keithseabrook27, @xostephanie, @lilac-jade, 

*If you have a request/question/want to be added in my Forever In Tags, just let me know!

NEW SPN TAGLIST

Dean:  

What do you do? - (Dean x adopted daughter!reader ) *Complete* 

Family Always Ends In Blood - (Dean x sister!reader ) *Complete* 

I’ll Take The Bullet - (Dean x reader) *Complete* 

Ridge-Wood - (Dean x OC sister relationship) *Paused* 

All I Care About - (Dean x Reader) *Complete* 

“Functioning” Alcoholic -  (Brother x sister!reader) *Complete* 

Daddy’s Here - (Dean x niece!reader) *Complete* 

Trouble In All The Right Places -  (Dean x OC) *Paused* 

Cool Dad -  (Dean x daughter!reader) *Complete* 

Help Me, Daddy - (Dean x daughter!reader) *Complete* 

Should’ve Been Better -  (Brother!Dean x sister!reader) *Conplete* [Angsty af] 

Steal The Show - (Bodyguard!Dean x Famous singer!Reader) *Ongoing* 

Lost Among the Flowers - (Dean x dead!reader) *Complete & Requested* 

Little Too Aggresive - (Dean x reader) *Complete & Requested* 

Hellbound Darling - (Dean x half demon!reader) *Complete & Requested* 

Date Night Terror - (Uncle Dean x niece) *Complete*

Destiel: 

The Damn Dare -  *Paused* 

Sandbox Wings - (Little Dean x Fledgling!Cas) *Complete* 

Just A Push & A Shove -  (Dean x Cas) *Complete) 

Sabriel: 

Sandbox Wings - (Little Sam x Gabriel) *Complete* 

Jaen: 

Just A Push & A Shove -  (Jack x Ben Braeden) *Complete* 

Sam: 

Ridge-Wood -  (Sam x OC) *Paused* 

Family Always Ends In Blood - (Sam x sister!reader) *Complete* 

“Functioning” Alcoholic - (Brother x sister!reader) *Complete* 

Daddy’s Here - (Sam x daughter!reader) *Complete* 

Can’t Chain Up An Angel - (Sam x angel!reader) *Complete*  

Black Eyes, Pretty Lies -  (Sam x demon!reader/murder!reader) *Complete* 

Heart Attack  - (Biker!Sam x reader) *Complete* 

The Roaring Night  - (Beast!Sam x reader) {REWROTE AS THE BEAST OF KANSAS} 

The Winding Road  - (Biker!Sam x reader) *Ongoing* 

The Beast of Kansas - (Beast!Sam x reader) *Ongoing/NEW!!!* 

Who’s The Cutest? - (Sam x reader; mentions of your daughter) *Complete*

Date Night Terror - (Sam x reader; mentions of daughter) *Complete* 

Chuck: 

Everything is Missing - (Chuck x reader) *Complete & Requested* 

J2M: 

I’m Drowning - (J2M x daughter-like!reader)  *Complete* 

Death’s Doorstep - (J2M x reader Family wise) *Complete* 

J2: 

He’s A Natural - (J2 x platonic!reader) *Complete* 

Favorite Actress - (J2 x reader) *Complete* {Part 2 attached} 

Jensen Ackles: 

I Think We Broke The Fandom -  (Jensen Ackles x actor!reader) *Complete*  

Smooches - (Daddy!Jensen x Pregnant Mommy!Reader) *Complete* (FLUFFY AF) 

Jared Padalecki: 

My Cup Of Tea - (Part 1 of 2) (young Jared Padalecki x British!reader!) *Complete*

Good Cup Of Coffee - (Jared x feisty!reader) *Complete* 

Misha Collins: 

Blood, Tears, and Absolute Fear - (Misha x daughter!reader) *Complete* 

Castiel: 

How May I Help You? -  (Cafe owner!Castiel/ Modern!Castiel x reader) *Complete* 

Fleeing Love - (Castiel x Winchester sister! reader) *Complete & Requested* 

So You Ran? ( Castiel x Mutant! reader) *Requested & On-going* 

Mark Sheppard: 

That Has To Be My Favorite Part - (Mark Sheppard x daughter!reader) *Complete* 

*Part Two - (Jensen Ackles x actor!reader) *Complete* 

Kevin Tran: 

Once An Angel, Always An Angel - (Kevin Tran x angel!reader) *Requested & Complete* 

Lucifer: 

Just Because I’m The Devil - (Lucifer x self-harming!reader) *Requested & Completed* (TRIGGER WARNING; MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM!!!) 

Sam & Dean: 

Family Is There For Family - (Sam & Dean x sister!reader) *Requested & Completed*