#jack kline x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

12.7% of mobile users access Tumblr.

lost-between-letters · 1 year

Text

Acquired Taste

Pairing: Jack Kline X Reader (she/her)

Requested by: @cherryyyangel

Word Count: 1,710

Summary: Jack discovers his love for music and Y/N discovers that having a cuddly crush sucks. (Or maybe that it doesn't at all)

A/N: remember how I asked for Jack prompts? Like a million years ago? Yeah, this is one of them, sorry that it took me so fucking long - but hey, I'm back! (We're ignoring that this fic is just three moments in a trenchcoat, okay?)

"What are you doing there?" Jack leaned down and peered over her shoulder in an attempt to get a better look at her phone.

Y/N looked up, startled by his voice cutting through the music blaring through her earphones. And his presence behind her. She could have sworn that she had been alone in the library a few moments ago. "Hm?"

"On your phone," he clarified and pointed at the list of songs she was contemplating, "what's that?"

"Oh that." Y/N stopped. Stared down at the device. Was he asking how Spotify worked or about the concept of music? "I'm making a playlist. For the next road trip."

"But Dean's choosing the music?"

Jack's forehead crinkled up cutely and Y/N had to physically stop herself from reaching up and smoothing it over. Instead she snorted once. "Yeah and it's always the same fucking three albums. No offence to AC/DC but there's only so much I can hear of back in black before I start to bite things."

"That's true." Jack nodded and pulled out a chair for himself.

Y/N swallowed the giddy feeling she got when their knees touched. Angels. No concept of personal space. That had to be it.

"And Dean's okay with your playing your own music in the car?" Jack's voice pulled Y/N from her daydreams. The second time today.

She snorted again.

"One, I don't particularly care if Dean is 'okay' with my choice of music," Y/N made air quotation with her fingers that made Jack laugh, "and two, I'm using earphones. Saves me quite a lot of headaches usually."

"That's very smart."

A moment of somber musing followed where Y/N alternated between watching Jack's face and pretending that she wasn't.

Then, Jack perked up again. "Can we share?"

"What?" Her weird staring obsession?

"The earbuds," he clarified, "I wanna know what kinda music you like."

Oh. Yeah, that made much more sense. Y/N scrambled for them, hoping that her cringing wasn't showing too hard on her face. "Sure, here."

"Thank you," Jack smiled politely and plucked the tiny bud from her fingers as if he was totally unaware of what their brushing fingers did to Y/N.

Which was mostly due to the fact that he probably was totally unaware of what their brushing fingers did to Y/N. Jesus Christ, she had to get a grip.

Then, Jack tapped her forearm excitedly and pointed to her phone. "I like that song!"

Oh, he was going to be the death of her. Why did he have to have good taste on top of everything else?

"Me too," Y/N smiled weakly when the familiar tunes of her favourite song filled her ear. At least Jack was too absorbed in his own mind to notice that her voice wasn't as cheerful as it should have been.

Having a crush sucked.

Twenty minutes into the drive, Y/N felt something poke her shoulder. Grudgingly, she pulled one earbud free and looked at Jack.

Who was smiling at her hopefully. "Can we share the music again?"

It took her a moment to remember what Jack was referring to - she had been halfway asleep already when they had entered the car. "Uh, sure."

Y/N handed her left earbud over and stifled a grin. It was just music. Nothing to get excited about.

She skipped through her playlist, rearranging and deleting a few songs that felt too off to listen to with Jack together. Too intimate, too much like baring her soul already. Not that she would say that out loud.

"Can we keep listening to the last one?" Jack asked softly when Y/N changed her mind just short of the chorus.

"Oh, sure." And really, she had to expand her vocabulary sooner or later.

It didn't help that Sam was watching them, an amused sparkle in his eyes at her fumbling. So Y/N glared at him through the rearview mirror to which he merely raised an eyebrow.

Jack - unaware of the silent argument - nodded once and scooted a little closer so that the chord of the earphones was hanging loosely between them. "Thank you. I really like your music taste."

"Thanks," she said softly, afraid that if she spoke any louder she might be squealing. Good job at playing it cool, Y/N.

It didn't get any better when Jack's head dropped on her shoulder another twenty minutes later or when he snuggled into her side like he belonged there.

She pointedly ignored Sam and Dean's glances while she tentatively relaxed against the boy next to her and drifted off.

Slowly, a habit formed from there on.

At first, the sharing-music-thing was strictly related to the long hours on the road when neither of them could stand Dean's tapes anymore.

But soon Jack got his own phone and set up his own Spotify account. He was almost constantly listening to music then, together with Y/N or on his own.

They had multiple shared playlists to which they listened to almost every waking hour. It drove Dean up the walls for some reason.

Not that Y/N cared particularly about what Dean thought about her music consumption or who she shared it with. She had to admit that it was pretty funny though to see him fume whenever he spotted the two of them connected by the chord of the earphones snuggled up on one of their beds. Which was all of the time.

"Hey Y/N," Jack was leaning against her doorframe - he was hovering uncharacteristically.

"Hi Jack." Y/N smiled and didn't even try to fight the warm feeling bubbling up. "Did you turn into a vampire or why are you waiting to be invited inside?"

Jack frowned at her (admittedly awkward) joke. "I never quite got that piece of lore. What sense would it make that a vampire couldn't get inside without explicit permission?"

"Dunno, makes you feel like you're somewhat in control?" She guessed half heartedly.

"I don't get it."

Y/N chuckled. "Yeah me neither. Did you want something Mr vampire?"

"Oh uh-" it actually looked like Jack was blushing, "-I uh wanted to show you a playlist I made."

Her heart was doing somersaults already. This is not a rom com Y/N scolded herself before her hopes could get the better of her. So she planted a friendly smile on her face and patted the empty spot next to her.

"C'mon then. Show me."

Jack smiled back somewhat nervously and sat down a little closer than she had anticipated. But again, no protest from Y/N. He nearly dropped his phone when he unlocked it though he managed to reduce the shaking to a minimum when he handed the earphones over.

Y/N was positively melting.

It got better though.

The first song in the playlist was a familiar tune - it was the one she had played for him when they had started this.

She was bobbing her head to the beat by the time it moved to the second song - a much slower one. More romantic, maybe a little cheesy but she liked it.

And Jack seemed to do so too. He was watching her intently so Y/N spoke up. "It's really good! I like the playlist."

"Thank you." Jack was still studying her, a glimmer in his eyes that she couldn't pin point.

A wave of sadness crashed into Y/N unexpectedly. Surely, Jack didn't know about the implications of making a playlist full of romantic songs for someone. Probably just had discovered them by accident and wanted to show her.

Deflated by her own mind, Y/N dropped back against the pillows, fighting to keep the smile on her face.

But something must have slipped.

Jack's expression fell. "You don't like it, do you?"

"Of course I do," she assured hurriedly, "I really like all those songs."

Somehow, that seemed to make it worse.

Jack pulled his legs up to his chest, eyes trained on his phone. "But that's not what I meant."

Colour her confused.

When he made no move to elaborate, Y/N reached forward and placed a tentative hand on his knee. "What did you mean then?"

"You don't like what I was saying with the playlist, right?"

And God, Y/N would give her left arm to wipe that expression off his face. But Jack wasn't making sense right now so she had to keep asking.

Surely he couldn't mean what she was hoping he did, right?

"Can you say it directly for me then? Maybe I like that better," Y/N tried again.

Jack just looked at her miserably. "I was trying to say that I really like you. But you don't like me back."

Dumbfounded, Y/N stared at him but Jack was already barreling on with a smile that looked closer to tears than anything else. "And that's okay! I just - I just need a moment."

And then he got up to leave.

He made it to the door before Y/N had processed what Jack just said.

Faster than she thought it possible, she had jumped up and blocked his way. It was definitely possible that she was feeling a little dizzy from the motion though.

"What do you mean I don't like you back?"

"You don't," He said but his voice was wavering, "or do you?"

"Wasn't that painfully obvious?" Y/N asked, a helpless laugh stuck in her throat, "Jesus, I've been pining for you since you dyed Dean's apron pink with me and you never noticed?"

"I didn't," Jack was looking down at her so earnestly, so full of painful vulnerability that Y/N just had to reach up and cup his cheek.

Briefly, time froze. Did she really do that? Jack's eyes were wide as saucers, maybe not as surprised by the touch itself but the intention behind it. Not that Y/N could blame him.

She was pretty sure that the last time she had had this kind of courage scraped together she had just killed her first monster.

"Can I kiss you now?" Y/N was whispering. It felt wrong to break the silence but she had to. Or else the tension might kill her.

Jack turned his cheek deeper into her touch. Reached around her waist gingerly. Tilted his chin just a fraction and let a radiant smile overcome his face. "Please."

General Taglist: @immrbrightsideee, @fandomfoodiedancer, @lovesfandoms, @nyotamalfoy, @stixnstripesworld , @foxyjwls007 , @amythedoctor , @alexxavicry

Jack Taglist: @sweater-weather-spn , @xoxokiaraaxoxo @theslawstee (no blog found, sorry)

Join a Taglist

#jack kline x reader #jack kline x you #jack x you #jack x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction

496 notes · View notes

sunshine-on-marz · 3 months

Text

Never again

Jack Kline x reader

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 14

Tw:Death, blood, lots of crying

“Jack?” You whispered, you squeeze his hand impossibly tighter, desperate to make up for the loss of his grip. “Jack no.” Sam chokes out, you hardly hear him over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. You were nauseous and tired and filled with adrenaline all at the same time. You wanted to be anywhere but here, but you also didn’t want to be anywhere without Jack. “No..” you mutter as you lift his hand to your face, gently kissing his knuckles “Sam.. Sam I never got to tell him” you whisper to Sam, he just looks at you, his eyes filled with unshed tears as he softly shakes his head. Dean and Cas walk in not long after, eventually the boys leave the room. You don’t. You just sit. Then you’re in bed next to him. You’d consider it disgusting, hugging a corpse, if you weren’t so overwhelmed with grief, and if this wasn’t your last chance to hug your best friend. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. He was supposed to live and prove anyone who thought he was evil wrong and be.. and be Jack Kline. But now Jack was just an empty body. And you were hysterical. And this was the last time you’d ever cry into his chest. The boys were out somewhere, you’d heard the front door open and close and open and close again, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but look at Jack. It was like his soul had been tethered to yours, weaved in so intricately that without him you were unraveling. You don’t even know when you started crying, and you certainly don’t know when you’ll stop. And then it clicked in your mind that he’d gone cold. You’d hardly felt anything but the tearing sensation from your heart since the moment his hand stopped holding yours, but now this cold is all you could feel. He was limp and cold. You’d never hug an energetic Jack again. He’d never again pull you against his chest for comfort when he was upset. He’d never smile that crooked smile again. Jack would never be, again. And quite frankly, it felt like you wouldn’t either.

“Why not me” you kept repeating in your mind, then you were whispering it, then saying it, then screaming it. You hadn’t even realized Sam Dean and Cas were back home until they were rushing into to the room, finding you cradling Jack’s head to your chest and screaming, sobbing, begging for Chuck or Billie or someone to come take you instead. Dean was the one who pulled you away from Jack. And now you were punching the tile, your knuckles bleeding and your eyes burning as tears track down your cheeks. Dean let you. So did Sam and Cas. Jack wouldn’t have. He would’ve stopped you the second your fist hit the floor, but no one in that room had the energy to come up with a good enough reason to tell you to stop. There wasn’t one, really. “Why not me- why not me?! Why am I stuck here without him” you sob as you fall forward into Dean’s chest, he hugs you, it doesn’t help. “I’m stuck here.. and I’ll never get to tell him I love him.” You whisper, and Dean assures you “he knew you did”, that doesn’t help either. Cas kneels down next to him and you hug him, you don’t expect relief, but it’s atleast familiar, as we’re Dean’s hugs, but Cas’ felt just a bit more like Jack’s had.

#jack kline #jack kline x reader #jack kline x you #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural #jack supernatural #supernatural jack

26 notes · View notes

miss-madness67 · 4 months

Text

Mistakes (Jack Kline)

The mistakes that brought you closer to him.

The first mistake you made was to accept working with the Winchester brothers. You should have never broken your habit of working alone. The second mistake you made was turning your back on that witch bitch. She sent your way a curse that was powerful enough to knock you off your feet. The third mistake you made was opening your eyes after you fainted. You should have known better than to believe the spell was purely physical. So when you stared up into the blue eyes of the Nephilim, you know you’re fucked, and you don’t care.

“God, you are beautiful.” You emphasize each word, your gaze remains locked, not caring about the rest of the world. Jack looks positively puzzled by your statement, but it is not him who speaks.

“You must’ve hit your head harder than we thought.” Dean’s voice comes from your right, and it’s only then that you realize you’re no longer in the witch’s hut where the battle went down. Instead, you’re back at the Winchesters’ motel room.

“What?” You wonder out loud, your eyes shifting to Dean for a second, before looking at Jack again. “It’s not my head hurting, but my heart.” Your following words are dramatic, “Jack, I’m sorry I didn’t notice before. You are the most beautiful Nephilim I have ever seen.” If heart eyes were a thing of reality, you’re pretty sure you would have them now.

“Thank you?” Says Jack, and although he put space between you to move further back, your grin doesn’t falter.

Sam murmurs your name softly, “are you sure you’re ok?” He inspects back and forth between you and Jack. Maybe it’s the way you’re staring at the Nephilim, or maybe the fact that a witch did throw a spell at you, realization quickly dawns on his face. “A love spell?” He chuckles, “I was worried about that bright red light she cast on you, but it’s just a love spell.”

For the first time since you woke up, you pay attention to Sam. “Love spell? What are you talking about?”

It’s the eldest brother who answers this time. “Right, the witch put a love curse on you and that’s why you’re looking at Jack as if you wanna take a bite out of him.” The smirk on his face is all too know-it-all as if he had solved the mystery by himself.

“Curse?” your voice is low, threatening, all directed at Dean. “You think my love for Jack is a curse?” You stand from the bed, being mindful of pushing Jack back gently. Fortunately for Dean, your gun is far away from your reach. “I might have met Jack just a handful of times, but my feelings for him have grown stronger by the second.” Your next words are for Jack, “There’s a part of me that has known you my whole life, Jack. Can’t you feel it too?” Your smile is all too bright as you place a hand on the Nephilim’s chest, right above his heart.

As it turned out, your confession only further convinced the siblings that you had been hit with a love spell. They decided that the only answer was to kill the witch -who got away earlier- for the curse to lift. Of course, with your hazed thoughts, you were no use. So, to prevent you from doing anything reckless to stop them, they all agreed to leave you in the motel with Jack.

Leaving you alone with Jack was both a good and a bad idea. It prevented you from screwing up in the field, but it also gave you what -who- you desired most: Jack. “Don’t worry,” you tell him as you sit across from him on the small table. He has been tense ever since the brothers left. “Even if they kill the witch, my love for you will remain the same.” Jack smiles awkwardly across from you. “You don’t believe me?” You challenge.

“I- you don’t really know me.” He whispers softly, but still, there’s a blush on his cheeks that spurs you on.

“And I told you that doesn’t matter.” You grin at him. “I’ll prove it to you!” You stand up from your chair and walk his way with determination.

Instantly, he jumps from his chair. “Wow, what are you doing?”

You continue walking his way until his back collides with the wall. “I’m proving to you that our feelings are real.” You place your hands on his chest once again, the crazy beating of his heart brings a smile to your face. “If you didn’t feel at least something, I’m sure you would control yourself better.” Despite his lack of encouragement, Jack doesn’t push you away. “I mean, you’re Nephilim, you could overpower me easily.”

Jack seems to be considering his options, and for a moment, you believe that he might actually push you away. Instead, he grabs your hands to hold them in his. “I think you’re very attractive, and I would love to get to know you… but maybe we should wait until the witch is dead, don’t you think?”

Rationally, you should accept what Jack is suggesting. You should step away and give the boy some space. It’s safe to say that you’re not very rational right now. With an angelic grin adorning your face, you pull Jack by the hands and closer to you, your faces only inches away. He is too stunned to do anything when you close the distance between the two of you.

Your lips touch his experimentally, first. The contact is almost delicate, timid, and innocent. Nothing too passionate, unlike the words you uttered before. Perhaps you’re afraid he’ll run away. Once you’re sure that he won’t, your body relaxes. Your hands let go of his and travel all the way to the nape of his neck. The Nephilim’s hands fall by the sides of his body. He doesn’t know what to do with them. It is then that you start to move your mouth on his. Jack’s follows your rhythm insecurely, almost as if it were his first kiss. He sighs and doesn’t step away, your chests pressed together, molding perfectly. You melt into the feeling of him, but you don’t dare to push further. You want to eat him whole and more, just like Dean said. But Jack is too sweet for that, so you control yourself. What you have right now is too good to be true. It is definitely worth pretending you are hexed by a witch. The last mistake you made, was falling in love with Jack Kline for real.

#jack kline x reader #fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spn fanfic #spn x reader #jack kline #jack kline x you #supernatural fic #jack kline x ofc

43 notes · View notes

imaginesforfandom · 4 months

Text

Misletoe Moments

what?! there's more?!

Jack Kline x Reaer

No Pronouns used!!

Summary: As the holiday season wraps its magic around the bunker, Jack Kline finds himself intrigued by the mysterious allure of mistletoe. Little does he know that this Christmas will bring about more than just festive decorations.

Mistletoe Moments

The bunker was adorned with festive lights, stockings hung with care, and a towering Christmas tree that nearly brushed the ceiling. The Winchester brothers had spared no effort in transforming their home into a winter wonderland, complete with the scent of cinnamon and the warmth of a crackling fire.

Amidst the holiday cheer, Jack Kline, the Nephilim with a heart as pure as snow, marveled at the decorations. His eyes widened with childlike wonder as he took in the twinkling lights and the delicate ornaments that adorned the tree.

You, the reader, had been helping with the decorations, sharing laughter and stories as you worked alongside Sam and Dean. Jack couldn't help but feel a flutter in his chest whenever he caught a glimpse of your smile. There was something about the holiday spirit that made everything seem brighter, especially when you were around.

One day, as Jack wandered through the bunker, he noticed a small sprig of mistletoe hanging above the doorway to the kitchen. Curiosity filled his eyes as he recalled the tales of holiday traditions he had heard from the Winchesters.

"Mistletoe," he mused to himself, the word rolling off his tongue with fascination.

Unbeknownst to Jack, you had caught wind of his musings. With a mischievous twinkle in your eye, you decided to take matters into your own hands. It was Christmas, after all, and a little bit of festive magic never hurt anyone.

Later that evening, the bunker was alive with the sound of laughter and the aroma of holiday feasts. The three of you gathered around the table, sharing stories and savoring the warmth of the season.

As Jack reached for a plate, you subtly nudged him, directing his attention to the mistletoe above the doorway. A playful smile danced on your lips, and Jack's confusion turned into realization.

"Oh, mistletoe," he said, a blush tinting his cheeks. "I've read that standing under it means… well, it means something."

You chuckled, nodding in agreement. "It's a Christmas tradition. If two people find themselves beneath the mistletoe, they're supposed to share a kiss."

Jack's eyes widened, his gaze flickering between you and the mistletoe. There was a moment of hesitation, but then a soft smile spread across his face. The warmth of the holiday season seemed to intensify as he took a step closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek.

Underneath the mistletoe, surrounded by the laughter of friends and the glow of Christmas lights, Jack Kline shared a sweet, magical kiss with you—a moment that would forever be etched in the memories of this special holiday season.

And so, in the bunker filled with love, laughter, and a touch of celestial magic, Christmas became more than just a celebration of tradition. It became a time of unexpected joy and the beginning of something beautiful for Jack and you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

he deserves the world. no, scratch that, he deserves the universe!

#jack kline #jack kline x reaer #jack kline x you #jack kline x y/n #jack kline imagine #jack kline oneshot #supernatural #spn fanfic #spn

25 notes · View notes

ohwowimlonley · 2 years

Text

DAY EIGHTEEN

Jack Kline + oral fixation kink

[warnings - fluff, clueless!jack, oral fixation]

[word count - 697]

[kinktober list]

Jack has always had an issue with focusing. It’s never become an outright problem - one that must be solved immediately - but his mind is almost always wandering.

Another quaint foible of his is that his mouth is always moving, an unrelenting slew of completely useless information and questions tumbling from it.

You have recently learned the trick to solving these problems. The Winchester brothers haven’t learned this yet - you doubt they would humour the concept if they found it out - but it’s become your go-to for when you need him to absorb a great deal of information.

“Jack, honey,” you nudge him, ever so gently with the tips of your fingers on the curve of his shoulder, rousing him from his television-induced daze and snapping his attention to you, “can we talk about something for a minute?”

“Sure!” He always talks like this; as if a puppy were endowed with the ability to speak, you can almost see his fictional tail wagging. It never fails to make you grin like a madman, flattered by his sheer excitement of just the prospect of conversing with you.

Despite this, his attention soon drifts back to the colourful display on the tv. You almost roll your eyes, but it is your own fault (there’s no way of keeping his attention when Scooby Doo is playing).

“Jack,” you lilt, stroking your nimble fingers over his clothed shoulder as you reach over for the remote. You shut the tv off, much to Jack’s chagrin, and turn him to face you, “I need to talk to you, okay? So you need to listen to me. D’you think you can do that for me?”

To anyone else, you might sound condescending, but Jack seems to enjoy the light tone to your voice. He bobs his head along to your words, though you’re not entirely convinced he’s actually absorbing any information.

“Okay, so, I was thinking, since the boys are out for the weekend, we might want to give the place a good tidy,” you suggest, carding your fingers absentmindedly through his soft locks.

Again, his attention seems to float away with the sensation of your nails scratching at his scalp. He leans into your palm, following the pleasant itching like a cat when you catch the right spot behind its ear. You want to feel frustrated with him, but it’s just so difficult when he acts innocently, with his wide, vacant eyes boring into your own.

“Jack, honey,” you drop your sweet tone a tad, letting him know you want his full focus, “I know you find it hard to listen sometimes, but let’s try really hard, okay?”

He nods firmly. He’s determined this time; he will not get distracted.

Two minutes later, he’s back in wonderland.

“Baby,” you sigh. Jack looks back to you, then frowns.

“I’m sorry,” he insists. He wants to pay you attention. You know he does. He just… can’t, “I am sorry, I- I-”

“Shh, I know,” you soothe, pushing your hand over a thick patch of his hair and smoothing it down onto his forehead. You lean over, press a kiss over the makeshift fringe, “how about we try something to help you focus?”

“Like what?” He cocks his head, ever the curious boy.

“Well,” you stall, blinking harshly and fending off the warmth rising in your cheeks, “maybe I should just show you, is that okay?”

He doesn’t even pretend to consider your offer before nodding enthusiastically. You shuffle closer to him, your thighs overlap his. You carry on talking, but, as you do so, begin slipping your fingers up his chin and pull his lips apart, then his teeth. The pads of your fingers push down on his tongue, allowing the young man to suckle gently at the length of your finger. His eyes close contentedly, and his forehead drops to your shoulder. He nods along to most of your statements, humming garbled sounds around your fingers to indicate his approval of your suggestions.

It may not be the most conventional way, but you’ve found the perfect way to seize Jack’s full attention. And, if you like it a little too, no one has to know.

Taglist - @jexnrey @samiam0907 @jessmooneya @tiredmf @baddiewivdafattie @art3mas @bella-738 @aphrodites-flowers @alexloveskili @downbadforvecna @dcwrites1 @masterofmunsonspuppets @youreyesaretherealtruthtellers @m-rae23 @rubesred @visionsgoodgirl @loudwombatmugkid @garfieldsladybird @rubes2323 @maddy-potter @trixcate @depressedjoey @sunnysolsstuf @clover723 @anamariel2301 @01-angela @kozumewhore @britlord @zemossugarbaby @bunnyweasley23 @slashersluttt @ilovejimhopper

#•kinktober 2022•#•megs smutty daydreams•#jack kline fluff #jack kline fanfiction #jack kline x you #jack kline x reader #jack kline #jack kline smut #supernatural fic #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x fem!reader #superwholock #supernatural smut

158 notes · View notes

hellfirebabe · 2 years

Text

Hellfirebabe’s Masterlist

Eddie Munson

🔥 - smut, 18+ please

🫶🏻 - one of my personal favs

My Heart’s All Aglow - 2.6k words - reader smokes weed for the first time while hiding out with Eddie 🫶🏻

Finally, Beautiful Stranger - 3.4k words - *loosely* inspired by finally//beautiful stranger by Halsey

The Love She Wears - 2.5k words - reader gets a special tattoo for Eddie 🔥

What Is and What Should Never Be - 2.9k words - sex pollen fic 🫶🏻🔥

It’s Not Living if it’s Not With You - 1.8k words - Eddie gives reader the prom that she never got to have in high school

There’s Blood in the Water but it Tastes So Sweet - 1k words - Eddie ties the reader up with his bandana 🔥

Earl Grey - 912 words - a late night with tea and comfort from Eddie 🫶🏻 (can be read as a follow up to finally, beautiful stranger but also stands on its own)

Jack Kline (Supernatural)

The Birds and The Bees - 1.1k words - Dean gives Jack “the talk” and the reader assumes it went poorly, quickly trying to rectify the situation. (Winchester sister reader)

All We Know of Heaven, All We Need of Hell - 1.3k words - this is technically part two to The Birds and The Bees, but can be read alone as well. it’s literally just sex. (Winchester sister reader) 🔥

(I don’t write for the supernatural fandom anymore but here’s two that I wrote forever ago that I don’t hate yet lol)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #jack kline #jack kline x reader #Jack kline x you #Jack kline x y/n #eddie munson

86 notes · View notes

wroteclassicaly · 2 years

Text

Below, you will find my complete Supernatural masterlist! It includes prompts, drabbles, series, one-shots, concepts, headcanons, and MORE!

* Copyright @wroteclassicaly - Do NOT redistribute, post to another platform, translate, or plagiarize my work (this includes AI) — under any circumstances! Reblogs, comments/feedback are ALWAYS appreciated! *

My library blog

Main Masterlist

Characters I write for in this fandom: Jack Kline, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Castiel.

Ships I write for: Destiel & x Reader with any character (or ship) that I have listed above!

Key:

❤️‍🔥 = smut

💔 = angst, depression, & anger

💝 = fluff & comfort

Series titles are in bold red

Appropriate warnings and tags will ALWAYS be added!

Jack Kline - (Kink) ❤️‍🔥

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader - (Drabble) ❤️‍🔥

32 notes · View notes

marvelfanfn2187a113 · 6 months

Text

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Castiel x teen!reader Jack x teen!reader (all platonic)

Requested by @little-bug-butt

Synopsis: just some little shorts about the Impala being the best place on earth.

You turned the back of the Impala into your own personal sleeping quarters and got comfortable right away. Sam had dragged you out of bed far too early, insisting that it was time to move on, since the hunt was over. You had been asleep by the time the boys had gotten back from a quick vamp job, and they woke you after showering and getting about three hours of sleep.

Despite your grumpy exhaustion, the thrum of the Impala’s engine starting up brought a smile tugging at your lips. In most cases, sleeping in a car was incredibly uncomfortable, but not in the Impala. The backseat was large and fairly accommodating, and the purr of Baby’s engine was better than any lullaby.

It still wasn’t a bed, but it was warm and it was safe, and that was all you could ask for.

“Do you think we’re doing this right?” The sound of Sam’s whispering caught your attention, but you kept your eyes closed as you attempted to sleep.

“What, the job?” Dean asked. “We haven’t even gotten there yet.”

“No, not the job, Y/N.”

“What about her?” Dean’s voice dropped in volume.

“I mean, we’ve been going from job to job nonstop for a while now. I don’t wanna wear her out.”

“She’s fine, look at her. She’s out like a light.”

You struggled to hold back your smile at this. You hadn’t realized that your feigned sleep was so convincing.

“You sure? I mean she’s been kinda quiet lately.”

“I’m sure she’s just tired. She’s gonna be alright, we all are.”

“I just don’t wanna screw this up, you know? With dad gone, I’m not sure I know how to—“

“She doesn’t need a replacement for dad, Sam. Just be a good brother and she’ll be alright.”

The car lapsed into silence after that, and you found yourself drifting in and out of sleep until the sun began to rise. It was still early, and you were still tired, but you shifted in your seat to watch the sunrise anyway.

When Dean saw that you were awake, he reached up and turned on the radio. You craned your neck to see Sam dozing, but he could sleep through anything, so Dean’s Metallica tape wasn’t a problem.

Neither of you spoke to break the still, silent morning, but you still felt connected to your big brother as the two of you watched the sun cast it’s pinkish glow over the black hood of the Impala. The air was crisp, but the light of dawn brought with it a warm blanketing shine that brought an easy smile to your lips. You took a deep breath, and somewhere between Dean’s cologne and the smell of fast food you could smell the fresh air of the morning. Or, more likely than not, you were imagining it, and the only fresh smell was the little green tree air freshener that you had hung up to make the car smell better, and Dean had immediately taken off and flung into the backseat.

“Good morning,” Dean finally broke the silence, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. “You doing ok?”

“Yeah,” you smiled at him. “I’m doing just fine.”

…

“Ow! Cas, that’s my hand.”

“Sorry, but you’re in my space.”

“So not true! Jack, close the window.”

“But it’s hot in here.”

“If you kids don’t shut up, I’m going to turn this car around!” Dean snapped from the front seat.

“Did you call me a child?” Cas complained.

“No more talking, that’s the rule for the next hundred miles,” Dean grunted.

Sam said nothing, just smirking as Dean went to turn on the radio.

“What?” He snapped when he saw Sam’s face.

“Oh I’m not saying a word,” Sam said before sliding his fingers in front of his lips in a “zipping my lips” motion.

“Smart,” Dean grumbled, changing his mind on the radio and instead opting to watch the scenery.

After a few minutes silence became comfortable, and the five of you continued like that for hours. You were smashed up against the side of the Impala, Cas and Jack taking up most of the space, but once your leg went numb you could kind of ignore it.

The silence was peaceful, the most peace all of you had had in a while. You watched the sun dipped below the horizon with your head leaning against the cool glass of the window. Once the sun was down, however, you leaned back in your seat, resting your head against Castiel’s shoulder as you began to nod off. He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shift in his seat so that you could lean more comfortably on him. You didn’t often get this close to the angel, and if you’d been fully awake you would’ve probably been too self-conscious to take up so much of his personal space. But Cas didn’t mind, in fact he was almost flattered that you felt comfortable enough around him to sleep on him.

When the Impala reached its destination and Dean said, “Alright, let’s go,” he was surprised when Cas shushed him, gesturing to you.

“Should we—“

“Don’t wake her,” Sam said. “She hasn’t been sleeping too well lately. I’ll get her.”

“No I’ve got her,” Dean said, opening the backseat door and easing you away from Cas, lifting you easily into his arms.

“Cas?” You mumbled, stirring in Dean’s arms.

“Shh, go back to sleep kid.”

You didn’t argue, and within seconds you were dozing in Dean’s arms as he carried you into the motel room.

…

The five of you had to start early the next morning, but when Cas entered the room that you and your brothers were sharing, he found you still asleep.

“Can you get her up?” Dean called from the bathroom, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

“Y/N?” You groaned as Cas shook your shoulder. “It’s time to go, c’mon.”

“I’ll stay here,” you mumbled before turning over and pulling your pillow over your head.

“I don’t think that’s an option,” Cas frowned.

“Cas,” Sam sighed. “You can’t wake her up like that.”

“Then how—“

“Alright, up!”

“Wait—“ you groaned as Sam grabbed your ankles and yanked you out of bed, an “oof!” Escaping you as you landed hard on your back.

“Let’s go,” Sam insisted, stepping over you to pack his bag.

“Jerk,” you grumbled as you started to get ready.

Twenty minutes later, you were on the road again, and the gentle lull of Baby’s engine had you dozing again.

“You sleep a lot,” you lifted your head at the sound of Jack’s voice, who was now sitting next to you instead of Cas.

“It’s the only way to cope though Dean’s playlist, if I was conscious I’d have to listen to it.”

“Hey, I can hear you!” Dean protested.

“Good, then maybe you’ll update your collection.”

The two of you bickered for a while before eventually giving up, and the car once again lapsed into comfortable silence. You leaned against the window, the purr of Baby’s engine and the miles of fields bringing a calm to you that you hadn’t been able to feel lately. It blanketed the car, creating a vortex of protection from the chaos that enthralled the lives of the people inside.

It felt as though as long as they were in the Impala, nothing could touch them. They were together, they were warm, and they were safe.

They were home.

504 notes · View notes

zepskies · 7 months

Text

Smoke Eater - Part 2

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.

AN: I was overwhelmed by the response on Part 1 (in the BEST way). 🥹 Thank you so much for everyone who read and sent me your lovely amazing comments! Here's Part 2 a bit early for ya. 😘

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: Idiots flirting, with a side of sexual harassment. 😪

Part 2: "Lieutenant Winchester"

Firehouse 25 was just as much a house as it was a home.

Especially for Dean Winchester.

In the common room, he sat down at his preferred corner of the sofa with a cup of coffee. By now, the guys knew this was his spot, perfectly angled toward the new flatscreen TV someone donated last month.

Up until then, they’d had to hotwire the same tank from 1995, which had only got basic cable. Now at least the newer smart TV came with a subscription to Netflix, courtesy of the donor.

Dean raised his favorite Batman mug to his face, expecting to imbibe some rich dark roast. What he got was a travesty.

Spitting out the brown soil water back into the mug, he coughed and grimaced.

“Jack!” he called out.

Jack Kline, the newest addition to the house, raised his head from where he was trying to scramble eggs in the open kitchen directly behind the couch.

“Yes, Lieutenant?” he replied.

“Why does this coffee taste like ass?” Dean asked. His voice was still gruff with sleep, as he depended on his morning coffee to wake him up, not assault his tongue.

Behind him, Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh…”

Dean finally turned around and gave the younger man a raised brow.

“What brand did you buy, Candidate?” he asked.

A candidate was a freshly graduated firefighter on probation. They were the rookie, the bottom rung of the totem pole, and Jack was that proverbial whipping post.

“Um…” Jack went to find the coffee canister he’d put away in the cupboards. He showed Dean the red plastic jug. “Folgers. It was on sale.”

“Fuck me,” Dean muttered. “Never Folgers, Candidate. Anything but fucking Folgers. The one thing we don’t skimp out on is quality joe.”

“That ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son,” Benny remarked, as he and Gordon entered the common room. Benny held a to-go mug he’d brought from home. After he’d seen what Jack brought for groceries yesterday, he’d taken no chances.

“What you wanna get is Gevalia,” Benny added.

“That European crap?” said Gordon. He took his usual spot at the dining table, leaning back in his chair. It left Benny to sit at the other end of the couch with Dean.

“Better than that piss water you drink,” Benny said with a smirk. Gordon raised a brow at him.

“Tea is medicinal, jackass.” The Black man raised a finger to punctuate his point. “It’s good for you. Unlike that carburetor fluid y’all drink.”

“Whatever, man,” Dean said, even though a grin edged at his lips. “All I know is, we need premium coffee, stat. Or it’s gonna be a cranky shift.”

“I can go to the store real quick,” Jack offered.

Say what you want about the kid’s poor taste in grocery buying, he was always willing to jump in when you needed him.

“Nah, stay on breakfast,” said Dean. “I’ll go afterwards. But remember, today you’re practicing rappelling drills.”

Jack nodded. “And lunch duty. And helping clean the truck, and all the bathrooms…did I miss anything?”

Dean shared a look with Gordon. Not only did he drive the truck, but he was one of the men Dean relied on most, as he had the next highest seniority on the job out of the whole firehouse.

Well, except for Benny Lafitte, Captain of the Rescue Squad. Squad members were considered specialists in complex rescue situations. They were highly trained on more sophisticated technical rescue equipment and rappelling, even scuba diving.

It took long years for a firefighter to make it onto Squad; something that Dean used to have ambitions for. But ever since he got promoted to Lieutenant on Truck 79, he realized that his role in this house was best served on the Truck, not on Squad.

“If he gets through all that, Meg might have something for him too,” Gordon said.

“Oh, don’t bring me into this,” remarked a droll voice. “I’ve already got one pound puppy to look after.”

Their Paramedic in Charge strode in with Chuck on her heels. They’d just pulled into the firehouse driveway on Ambulance 7.

“Nice. That’s how you talk about your partner of three years?” Chuck said with a frown. Meg turned to him with a wry grin.

“Only the ones who can hack it on my Ambo,” she replied. “What can I say. You’re special, Shurley. Either that, or a glutton for punishment.”

Gordon shook his head and looked over at Jack.

“Careful with that one. She chewed and hacked out her last partner in under a month.”

“Poor guy didn’t even transfer,” Dean added, making a “flatlining” motion with his hand. “He just quit. Dropped out of the Fire Academy that same day.”

Not all firefighters were made through Meg’s department, but it was a common route, working as a paramedic while getting put through your paces in the Fire Academy. Dean himself had gone straight to the Academy after getting his EMT certification.

But at Dean’s words, Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. Meg turned to him with an almost feline smile.

“How was the call?” Benny asked her, speaking of the job they’d just returned from. Meg’s expression dimmed a little, as did Chuck’s as they both sat down at the table.

“Ah, just Henry again,” she said. “Overdosed on his insulin.”

Benny frowned, while Dean shook his head. Jack’s brows furrowed.

“Who’s Henry?” he asked.

Meg sat back in her chair with a subtle sigh. Knowing his work partner’s mood, Chuck answered the young man’s question.

“He’s homeless, lives by the river,” he said. “He’s one of our ‘regulars,’ you could say. When we get the call, usually he’s passed out. Dehydration. But sometimes it’s more serious.”

“You can’t take him to the hospital?” Jack asked in concern.

“Today we did,” Meg said. Her brown eyes met Jack’s, her mouth in a thin line. “But without health insurance, there’s only so much they can do after they get him stable.”

That fell a bit heavily into the room. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it was the reality. Jack was learning more and more about that aspect of this job, and learning if he could handle the darker shades of what it could bring.

“Well, breakfast is ready,” he said, bringing a large plate of eggs and toast onto the counter. Dean tossed him an appreciative half-smile and got up from the couch.

“Thanks, kid,” he said, walking over along with everyone else. He took a moment to pat Jack on the shoulder.

“What do you want to do first: run drills, or help me and Gordon wash the truck?” Dean asked.

Jack looked up with a smile. “Can we run drills first?”

Dean nodded, grinning back at him. “Good answer.”

The rest of the Truck and Squad crews ambled in at both the announcement and the smell of food. And before long, the common room was filled with conversation, good-natured teasing, and shitty coffee all around.

From his vantage point facing the open door to the driveway, Benny caught sight of a young woman heading towards the double doors with a large tupperware bin in hand. Bonnie the receptionist happened to be coming in at the same time. You asked her a question Benny couldn’t quite hear.

“Dean… Oh, you’re looking for Lieutenant Winchester?” Bonnie asked. Her voice tended to carry. “Right in there, hun.”

“Well, that sure is interesting,” Benny murmured with a smile. He glanced over slyly at his friend. “Heads up, brother.”

Dean looked up from his plate of eggs expectantly. Benny gestured over with his eyes, just as you walked into the firehouse, both cautious and unsure of where you were going.

Dean’s brows raised. He found himself setting down his plate and getting up from the couch before he really knew what he was doing.

You looked exactly how he remembered. Though this time, you weren’t coffee stained in your professional blouse and black pencil skirt. His attention drew briefly downwards to your heels, this time solid black (and even taller than the last pair, damn).

He noticed all the same things he had last time: the shade of your hair, pinned up again with a clip as stray pieces framed your face. The way you carried yourself when you finally saw him, straightening with a subtle confidence in your shoulders, even though you looked a bit nervous. And the pretty curve of your lips when your eyes found his.

“Hey, there,” Dean said. He gave you one of his trademark smiles. “Good to see you again.”

“Uh, hi,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you remember me.”

Dean nodded. “‘Course I do. What can I do for you?”

Your face seemed to freeze up a bit as you looked up at him.

“Oh, um, nothing really. I just wanted to say thank you, again,” you said. And you glanced past him, where the rest of the firehouse members were discreetly watching. “All of you, actually. And my friend told me that firefighters really like food…but, I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

You laughed a little, in a nervous way that made Dean struggle not to smile too much.

“Anyway, I like to bake,” you twittered on, “and I had some time this week after…well, you know what happened. So…I brought this!”

You raised up your tupperware with a smile.

And you were damn adorable, Dean thought. His own smile deepened as he glanced down at the offering, then at you. He took the container and opened the lid, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.

He could’ve sworn these were Bonafede, just-poured-out-of-the-box Girl Scout cookies. Dozens of them. He saw shortbreads (complete with the little wavy lines), Samoa cookies with the coconut flakes, and even what looked like chocolate covered Thin Mints. They also smelled delicious.

“Wow. Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, with genuine warmth. “I’m pretty sure the guys are gonna tear these apart the second I put ‘em down.”

Your face brightened, and Dean noticed how it reached your eyes with a bit of a blush.

“Well, I hope you guys enjoy,” you said. Your hands fiddled with your purse next.

“Heading off to work now?” he asked.

“Yep,” you nodded, with a certain glint in your eye. “I plan on taking the stairs this time.”

Dean raised a brow. “All 22 floors?”

“Gotta get my steps in somehow,” you joked. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to become a repeat offender, make you guys come all the way back across town again.”

“Aw, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, meeting your eyes. And he found that he meant it. In fact, he didn’t think he’d mind if your building’s elevator broke down every damn week.

Your expression shifted towards amusement. “Well, you must be very dedicated to your job.”

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you. He had half a mind to heed his instincts, to take advantage of the signals he thought you were sending him, and ask if he could take you out sometime.

But it was unprofessional here at the firehouse (not that that had stopped him before). He’d been making efforts to curb that kind of behavior for the past few months.

He also remembered the 30 floors of your massive, fancy office building. He considered the price tags that probably came with the admittedly sexy, high-powered corporate look you had going on. Those were probably a lot more zeros than he was used to seeing on his paycheck.

So for once, he didn’t pull the trigger.

“Well, thanks. I really do appreciate that,” Dean replied. His smile then was more sincere, if also more professional. He gestured at the container in his hand. “And on behalf of all the guys, thanks for this too.”

“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I have to go, but…thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester.”

“Ah,” he shook his head, “just call me Dean.”

You agreed by smiling, just a little bit more.

“Dean.”

He nodded back, sending you off with a smile of his own. He forced himself to taper it down after you left, and he had to turn around to meet his friends. Their grins reminded him of piranhas.

“All right. Out with it, you freakin’ jackals.” He waved his free hand in a “bring it on” gesture.

Meg was the first one to burst out laughing. It spearheaded the rest of them, whooping and catcalling and generally being menaces. Even Jack was grinning at his lieutenant’s expense.

Meg got up from her seat and bumped Dean’s shoulder on her way to the kitchen, where she dumped her dishes.

“Thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester,” she mocked in a saccharine sweet voice. Then she lowered it into an exaggerated mimic of his deeper one, “Call me Dean, baby girl. Fucking priceless. You should get your own Hallmark movie.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He’d been prepared for this, but his face was still getting warm.

“Shut up, Meg,” he tossed back. They all had an ongoing Family Guy joke that never failed to make their PIC narrow her eyes. And she did so now, giving him a fake grimace as she left the kitchen.

“All right, kiddos. If you need me, don’t,” she said. “Chuck! Let’s sort the ambo’s inventory.”

“Got it,” her partner nodded. He too got up and placed his dishes in the sink before he took off after Meg.

This left Dean with the rest of the guys, who still gave him knowing smiles as he set your bin of cookies down on the table. He blew out a breath before he returned to the couch and sat down heavily across from Benny and Gordon.

“I never thought I’d see the day that Dean Winchester bitched out,” Gordon remarked.

Once again, Dean rolled his eyes.

“Truly incredible,” Benny added. He shook his head when Dean just crossed his arms. “She was eying you like a pork cutlet, and you just let her walk outta here.”

“We’re in the house, guys. What was I supposed to do?” Dean groused.

Benny and Gordon looked at him like he’d just denounced Led Zeppelin (his favorite band of all time).

“Get her goddamn number, Winchester,” said Gordon. The man’s lips curved. “Or at least, introduce her to a brother.”

Dean shot him a glance. Gordon Walker was damn good at driving the truck, but he was also known for being a hunter of the ladies himself.

“She seemed nice,” Jack put his two cents in with a smile. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it. Gordon scoffed, nodding his agreement.

“Yeah, with a fat ass too,” he said, sipping his tea.

Benny reached over and hit his shoulder to shut him up.

“That’s a lady, Gordon,” he said. Though a suspect smile graced his lips as he glanced at Dean. “A lady with a nice ass.”

Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t disagree. The first time he met you, he’d been impressed by the way you stood your ground with your asshole boss. Dean thought you were going to chuck that lethal looking heel at the guy. But behind that steely exterior was a kind little softie.

Today, he got your sweet side. It was equal parts sexy and adorable.

And damn if you didn’t have a nice ass, nice curves, and a nice mouth.

But your eyes, he thought. Those were nothing short of beautiful.

About twenty minutes across town, an apartment building was swarmed by police cars. One unit in particular was sealed off with yellow caution tape as a team of officers drifted in and out.

What a fucked way to die.

Detective John Winchester observed the unnatural angle that the victim—Jerry Stillwell, a certified public accountant—had his throat cut with a jagged weapon.

It hadn’t been clean in the least. And he’d bled out across his work desk and a stack of papers, as well as his desktop computer. He was 45, unmarried, and murdered in his own home in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

The computer wouldn’t turn on, and not because of the blood. It had been wiped with magnetized technology, most likely by the intruder. Though there was no sign of forced entry, according to John’s partner. The murder weapon was missing as well, though it looked like a knife wound.

John leaned over the on-site medical examiner’s shoulder to peer closer at the man’s wounds. Stillwell had most likely been grabbed from behind. So far, the signs pointed to the culprit being someone the victim knew.

They probably took Stillwell by surprise, but he was a large man. If John had to guess, over 250 pounds, unathletic, but still, not easy to overpower. Likely the suspect was a man over 6 feet; strong, and efficient. Though the messiness of the kill made John think this guy took "pride" his work, so to speak.

“Signs of struggle,” said the M.E. “Skin under the fingernails. He fought back, and…huh.”

John’s interest piqued at the man’s shift in tone. “What?”

“Take a look at this.” The M.E. was holding Stillwell’s right hand, palm-up, revealing a small burn on the inside of the wrist. John’s gaze sharpened on the mark.

“Cas, come here,” he said. Across the room, Detective Cas Novak paused in his task of examining the entry points of the apartment to join John at his side. His blue eyes widened a fraction at seeing the burn. It was a symbol of a snake eating its own tail.

“That makes four,” Cas said.

“Yep. We’ve got ourselves a murder cluster,” John said. Cas nodded. He beckoned John to the side, making sure the M.E. was out of earshot before he spoke. “Isn’t it time we brought Sam up to speed on this, at least?”

John’s brows furrowed.

“No,” he said. “Sam’s an ADA. We don’t go to him until we have someone to indict.”

He walked away from Cas, who frowned. John knew damn well that wasn’t what he meant. This was the fourth murder within six months of this nature. The fourth to be branded with the mark of Azazel…a criminal who supposedly disappeared decades ago.

Shortly after November 2, 1983, the day of Mary Winchester’s death.

Seeing Dean again had gone better than you thought it would. It left you feeling light and downright cheerful when you left the firehouse this morning. Unfortunately, the great start to your morning only crumbled when you reached your office.

Now, even at the end of your day, finally back at home and in the familiarity of your kitchen, the tension headache was back.

“Dre, I’m tired. Can’t we do this another night?” you asked.

Your cell phone was balanced between your ear and your shoulder as you counted out your grandfather’s pills, and placed them in each “Monday through Sunday” box in the blue container.

“No, we absolutely cannot. Because today was horrific,” Andréa said. “For me, because my coworker decided to play hookie on the day our top account needed the mockups of their new website. Never mind that she hadn’t even started.”

Pause for an aggravated breath, through which you frowned in sympathy. She’d told you the entire story over lunch today.

“And for you, because Nick once again displayed why he’s a subhuman neanderthal, in spectacular fashion,” she added.

Your grimace deepened at the reminder.

Earlier today, just before a sales meeting you were set to lead, you’d turned away from the conference table to set up the projector. Nick was early for once, making it just him and you in the room.

He’d sat back in his chair and uttered a remark that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.

“I’ll tell you what, babe. You sure know how to wear a skirt.”

Your back straightened, and slowly you turned. Your face was set in stone, save for a solitary raise of your brow.

“Excuse me?”

Nick’s smirk was lazy as he kicked his feet up on the table. His hand held a tumbler of whiskey. You noted the half empty carafe, which just yesterday had been full and untouched.

“Fucking fantastic legs,” he said, vaguely outlining your shape with his hand. “I applaud you. It’s all very…sexy secretary. Oooh! Sexcretary. Fucking brilliant.”

You gaped, trying to put a clamp on the furious spike in your blood.

“Are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.

He raised his fingers an inch or so apart, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh.

“Actually nah, not at all,” he bluffed.

He let his hand fall back into his lap. You shook your head and set down your papers in order to cross your arms.

“Good. Then you’ll hear me clearly when I say, I’m filing a formal complaint with Billie in HR,” you said.

“Whaaat? Why?” he complained. You huffed incredulously.

“For your little comments, which are getting more and more heinous. Not to mention your excessive drinking during company hours.”

Nick pursed his lips. “Christ on a stick. Can’t you take a fucking compliment?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “What I refuse to take is any further sexual harassment. This isn’t the first incident I could disclose, but I’m damn sure you’ll want it to be the last.”

He kicked his feet off the table and slowly stood. You didn’t want to be afraid of this sloppy, frat boy drunken attitude, but a tendril of trepidation still laced down your spine as you took a step back.

“You could do that,” he nodded, tilting his head. “Or, I’ll give your Zimmerman account to Josh, along with your commission.”

You frowned, and shock made your entire body tense.

“You…you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. Your insides fairly shook with frustration tinged with anger. “I’ll sue you.”

“With what money?” Nick scoffed.

Your brows knitted together then. How the hell would he know anything about your finances?

The man noted your reaction with a nod.

“Yeah, I know all about grammy and gramps. Surgeries, funerals, treatments…” he said. He leaned against the table with one hand, and still he fairly loomed over you.

He wasn't as broad as someone like Dean, but he was tall and lean. His dirty blonde hair was swept to the side, his blue eyes bearing down on you.

“I am this company. If you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out, sweetheart,” he said.

His gaze lowered, roaming your glowering face.

“And good luck getting anywhere else without a reference from one of the biggest corporations in Lawrence, Kansas.”

You sighed. Yeah, you might’ve shed some frankly embarrassing tears in the women’s bathroom after that. You hadn’t even told Andréa the full story, which included the details of his comments, along with his threats.

You didn’t want her to worry. And maybe, more selfishly, you were embarrassed at having to deal with it at all.

Truth be told, you still didn’t know what the hell you were going to do. About Nick, or your job…but somehow, getting drunk at a bar seemed about the last thing you should be doing.

“I need a drink,” Andréa insisted. “Which means you definitely need a drink. And I know exactly where we’re going.”

After a long moment, you leaned your elbows on the kitchen counter and rubbed through the persistent ache in your forehead. Maybe, just this once, you deserved to forget about reality. Just for a little while.

“Fine. Where?” you asked.

“It’s this great bar Meg told me about. The Roadhouse.”

“Ah, the usual suspects,” Ellen drawled at the men who managed to find seats at her bar, next to the rest of their party. The Roadhouse was packed on a Friday night, but she always had room for these two.

Benny and Dean wore similar tired, but pleasant smiles as they greeted their esteemed barkeep.

“What’s it been, Ellen, a whole shift since I’ve seen your delightful face?” Dean said.

Ellen gave him a mocking smile as she poured him his favorite beer on tap. Dean grinned and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he sat down. He and Cas had been waiting for a little while.

…Well, maybe longer than a little.

“Hey, dude,” Dean said. Sam perked up from his second beer with pursed lips.

“You know we’ve been waiting on you for like an hour, right?” he said.

“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy,” Dean teased. He nodded his thanks at Ellen when she set his beer in front of him, and a glass of whiskey for Benny. “We had a last-minute call. Some guy just couldn’t wait to start his Happy Hour. Drove his car into the company fountain.”

Sam’s brows raised incredulously. He looked over at Benny for confirmation, and the other man gave a resigned nod.

“Apparently it set the ducks into a tizzy,” he said. “The guy’s fine. Probably gonna get slapped with a DUI.”

Dean smirked and raised a finger at both Sam and Cas. “Duck Guy’s your problem now.”

Cas shook his head and raised his beer to his lips.

“Not my department.”

“Mine either,” Sam scoffed. Both of them worked in homicide cases, just from the differing sides of law and order. In fact, they worked together more often than Dean and Cas did.

Dean looked over at his friend Cas for a moment. He looked like more of a hot mess than usual, with his tie half undone, and a scruffy half-beard covering his face.

“Geez, man. You look like shit,” Dean remarked. “You and Meg fighting again?”

“No,” Cas replied, his brows furrowing. “…Well, yes. But nothing more than her usual insanity. Something about the cat preferring to sleep next to me than to her.”

“Well, that’s not so bad,” Benny said. “My dog don’t like her either.”

“Maybe they can smell that she’s feral,” Dean quipped. Cas sent him a dry look at that.

“She threatened to move out,” he revealed. “Even packed a bag at 3:00 in the morning. I spent two hours unpacking what she was re-packing, all while we argued in our underwear, not sleeping.”

Sam and Dean shared bemused looks, while Benny shook his head into his whiskey.

“So how’d it end up?” Sam asked. Cas sighed and took another long sip of his beer.

“Like it always ends, Sam,” he said, his lips quirking. “With our neighbors calling the precinct to complain, and me, somehow ending up sleeping on the couch for a crime I didn’t commit. If she wants to blame someone, blame the goddamn cat.”

Dean chortled. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t resist a light jab at his best friend first.

“Dude, I love her like a sister, but your girlfriend’s unhinged,” he said.

Cas could only nod. “Most are, I’ve come to find.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head. “Not mine.”

“Yeah, that’s because Eileen doesn’t have to see you more than two minutes at a time,” Dean teased. He and his brother still shared an apartment, and Sam’s job as an Assistant District Attorney wrought demanding hours.

Sam shot his brother a flat look.

“Oh, I’m not taking that from the serial playboy,” he said.

Dean’s brows knitted together.

“All right, calm down,” he said. “I’m not Hugh Hefner.”

“Mr. Hit and Run,” Cas added, a smirk gracing his features.

“Chief ‘No Daddy Issues,’” Benny tipped in, giving his annoyed, green-eyed friend a sly glance. “With a side helping of the Clap.”

Dean’s lips pressed into a line. He leveled a finger at Benny.

“That girl was clean, okay? False alarm,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward as he sipped his beer. Thank Christ for that one. “The rash was just carpet burn.”

Sam shook his head and turned to his brother more seriously.

“Bottom line: until you date a woman for more than two weeks—hell, two days at a time—you don’t get to comment on the happily committed,” he said.

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew his track record with relationships. As in, he didn’t really have a record…but it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least, not for the past few months.

Sam managed to break Dean out of his thoughts by clearing his throat, pushing his empty bottle across the counter.

“All right, speaking of. I gotta go,” he said.

“Aw, why? We just got here. Let me buy you another,” Dean offered.

Sam shot his brother another knowing look. Dean knew it well; it said, if he’d been here on time, they would’ve shared the first two drinks.

“I’m picking up Eileen,” Sam said, grabbing his blazer and fixing the collar when he put it on. “There’s this Latin club she wants to go to.”

Dean raised incredulous brows.

“My brother’s going salsa dancing?”

Sam sighed in exasperation, despite his smile. “Bye, Dean.”

He shot his other two friends a nod.

“See you guys.”

Cas and Benny both saw him off with a subtle raise of their drinks, while Dean just shook his head.

“All right, Samantha,” he called out. Sam didn’t bother to turn around as he raised up a choice finger behind him.

Dean snorted into his drink. “Very mature.”

Benny and Cas shared a wry look. They were relieved when Ellen’s daughter Jo came by, picking up the slack for her mom, who was serving a rowdy group of college kids at a nearby table.

“Hey, guys. Need another round?” Jo asked. She gave them all a familiar smile, but her eyes lingered on Dean. He gave her a more reserved smile back.

“Hey, Jo,” he nodded. “I uh…actually think I’m good right now.”

“Me too,” Cas said. He even stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat in similar fashion as Sam had. The two had paid for their beers before Benny and Dean even got there.

“Aw, not you too,” Dean groused.

“If I don’t make dinner, we run the risk of the apartment going up in flames,” Cas informed him. Dean could only assume he was talking about Meg. “Despite working with the Fire Department for ten years, the woman can’t manage to boil an egg without supervision.”

Jo raised a brow, but her smile was bemused as she turned to Benny. “Anything for you?”

“Nah, darlin’. I’m good,” he said. But sensing the unspoken request in her eyes when she glanced at Dean, Benny straightened and raised from his seat. “But I’ll be back. Need’a hit the head.”

Dean internally sighed as Benny left him alone at the bar. Or, well, relatively alone. Jo lingered in front of him to wash and dry out a few glasses. The air between them was stiff, and a little awkward.

Dean’s thoughts shifted back to his brother then; while he still couldn’t believe Eileen had wrangled his gangly Sasquatch of a brother into going dancing, Dean was happy for him. Truly and sincerely. Sam deserved having someone who softened him, made him break away from his endless cases and have some fun.

Dean could also admit, if only to himself, that he was maybe a little jealous. Sam had something good with his girl. Something real.

Dean had carpet burn.

“So, how’s studying going?” he asked Jo. He couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Still planning on giving your mom a heart attack when you get into the Police Academy?”

Jo’s blue eyes flicked up to his. She brushed a coil of blond hair behind her ear after she finished drying a glass, and a smile raised the corner of her lips.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I gave her something to yell about,” she quipped. “But since you asked…my exam is in three months.”

“Good,” Dean nodded. “You’ve got time. Study your ass off. Keep up the conditioning routine I gave you, and you’ll be set. Just don’t forget the strength training. Very important.”

“I got it,” she said, this time with a brighter smile. “Some old firefighter gave me some pointers.”

Dean tilted his beer at her accusingly.

“Hey, don’t pin that old shit on me yet. Benny’s got more mileage than I do…”

He considered her then, after briefly looking down at the counter.

“What?” she said.

He kept his lips tight. “Nothin’.”

“No, Dean. What?” Jo pressed. “You want to say something. Say it.”

He blew out a breath and shook his head.

“Ellen’s not the only one who’s gonna worry about you on the job, that’s all,” he said. Jo flickered at a rueful frown.

“That’s ironic,” she said. “I can handle myself, Dean. Something you so often seem to forget.”

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he shot back. His hand tightened around his beer.

Jo’s face fell into irritation, mostly to cover up the hurt he saw buried deep behind her eyes. She gave him some relief by glancing away from him.

“And this is why we didn’t work out,” she muttered. Sighing through her nose, her eyes met his again. “You know what I hate, more than anything? People worrying.”

Dean carded his fingers through his hair, his brows knitting together in aggravation.

“Yeah, well, maybe they have good reason to,” he said. He could’ve predicted the way she tightened up. “And if I remember right, you did your fair share of hand-wringing the next time I responded to a fire on the job.”

He knew it was a low blow. But his point was made, and he fully expected the anger in Jo’s tight frown. They’d dated for a few weeks, mostly in secret.

That had been enough for Ellen to blow her top. Not because she had anything against Dean…just his job: at the very same firehouse her late husband had once served.

So Dean had backed off. He’d ultimately felt he had to end it. And clearly, Jo still resented him for it.

Slowly, however, the fire in her eyes dimmed. Her finger tapped on her side of the bar counter.

“You think I don’t worry anymore just because we’re not together?” she asked him.

Dean didn’t have a good answer for her. So his gaze fell to his nearly empty beer.

But he was even more relieved when Benny finally got back from the bathroom, or wherever he’d fucked off to for the past few minutes.

He did seem to know that he was interrupting a rather tense moment. Seeing as neither Dean nor Jo wanted to break the silence, Benny supposed it fell on him.

He reclaimed his seat and raised a smile up at Jo.

“I think I’m ready for the next round,” he said, glancing at Dean’s soured mood. “Two whiskeys, please, Joanna.”

Jo treated Benny with a half-smile. He was the only one besides her mother who called her Joanna (and got away with it). After one last look at Dean, she reached over for the Jim Beam.

You met Andréa at the bar in your own car, just in case you needed to dip out early to check on Grandpa George. He was happy to see you going out.

“You’re pretty as a doll, sweetheart,” he’d said, patting your cheek after you kissed his goodbye.

The thought made you smile, even though you thought you were dressed casually in your dark wash jeans and blouse. When Andréa met you outside the bar, she nodded in approval.

“Good. I like the hint of sexy,” she said, plucking at the sweetheart neckline of your top. You rolled your eyes and tried to cover up the cleavage a little, but she batted at your hand.

“No, no. Leave your professionalism at work,” she said. “Tonight, you’re going to relax and have some fun.”

It was hard to think about loosening up when you were literally getting belittled and threatened at work…but you supposed she had a point. You always had to be put together. You had to be sharp, because this world wouldn’t hand you anything on a silver platter.

And not to mention, you couldn’t just think about yourself. You also had to provide and take care of your grandfather too. He was the only family you had left, and you were it for him too…

But you took in a slow, deep breath. Tonight, you could have a couple of drinks with your friend. You could just be yourself, with no responsibilities other than not getting too drunk to drive yourself home later.

So with a sigh, you smiled and linked your arm with Andréa as you headed inside the Roadhouse.

It looked kind of divey from the outside, a worn-looking brown building with a faded red sign. But inside it was all dark wood and leather barstools and rows of soft lighting overhead.

There were records displayed on the wall; Prince’s Purple Rain, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, among others. Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” played on the wall speakers.

There were several tables, both high top and regular four-seaters, as well as a long bar that spanned the far wall, where rows and rows of liquor were showcased. You followed Andréa’s lead to the bar, where you took a seat at the far end and tried to feel like you belonged here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to a place like this.

“This is nice,” she leaned over into your ear to say. “Next time my cousin should meet us here. She’s a handful, but I think you’d like her.”

You agreed with a smile. “If she’s anything like you, I think I’m well trained to handle your brand of insanity.”

Andréa leveled you with a playfully mocking look.

“Ah, you’ve got jokes tonight. Okay.” She waved over the blonde bartender.

“Hi, ladies,” she greeted. “I’m Jo. What’re we starting off with tonight?”

Before you could order for yourself, Andréa grabbed your arm and spoke over you.

“Do you have absinthe?” she asked.

Your eyes widened. “What?! I’m not drinking that—”

“Sure do,” Jo replied in amusement.

“Great,” said Andréa. You didn’t like her sly grin. “She’ll have an Aunt Roberta. I’ll have a vodka cranberry.”

“What the hell is an Aunt Roberta?” you asked.

Jo listed the ingredients on her fingers. “A nice molotov of brandy, vodka, gin, blackberry liqueur, and of course, absinthe.”

Jesus Christ. You shot Andréa a glare, even though you were trying to dim your smile.

“Are you trying to chill me out or fucking end me?” you asked.

Andréa smirked. “Whatever it takes.”

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your agreement. Jo’s smile remained as she went to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, your eyes wandered as you once again took in your surroundings.

Really is a cool place, you thought. And it was busy without being overbearingly crowded. There were even a few seats between you and the rest of the patrons at the bar. Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.

There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.

That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.

Lieutenant Winchester.

AN: *rubs hands together* It begins. 😏

Lol how'd you like Dean's little moment with the reader at the firehouse? Plus the introduction of the rest of our cast!

(And a possible serial killer on the loose?) Though sorry about Nick. He's a douchecanoe.

Next Time:

Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.

“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.

Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.

“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.

“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”

Andréa huffed in amusement.

“So? That’s half the fun,” she said.

Keep Reading: PART 3

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

611 notes · View notes

kaleldobrev · 3 months

Text

Jack Kline Masterlist

A rebloggable Jack Kline Masterlist for your viewing and reading pleasure. A mix between GN. Reader & F. Reader (Individual stories specified)

Authors Note: Will update this as I post more stories

Just a Little Crush (1.5k) | The reader has a crush on Jack and Dean helps the reader out

Tea Time (2.2k) | Tea time has always been your time. Well…That was until Jack decided he wanted to join you

Six Months (1k) | You and Jack reunite after six months of not seeing each other.

Comfort (2.6k) | Jack and reader have secret crushes on each other. When invited for a sleepover at the Bunker, will they finally express their feelings for one another?

Binging Netflix with Jack

Introducing Jack to your parents

Jack being really protective of you

Teaching Jack about hunting

Being created specifically for Jack

Pizza Slices (Incorrect Quotes)

#jack kline x reader #jack kline x you #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #spn drabble #supernatural drabble #gn reader #female reader #reader insert #jack x you #jack x reader #fluff #spn drabbles #supernatural drabbles #kaleldobrev jack kline masterlist

48 notes · View notes

mmelionsblog · 2 months

Text

go back to sleep \\ dean winchester //

it was 3 am when you bolted wide awake. your eyes were scattering the whole bedroom of the bunker. you were gasping for air, sweating so much that you sat in a pool of your own sweat. dean of course, bolted up a few seconds later when he felt commotion going on in his shared room.

“sweetheart?” his voice rasped, as he sat up from his spot to turn on the lamp from the bedside. “it felt so real,” you whispered, placing your hands in front of your face to cover yourself up. “you were gone, sam and i left alone in the world. it felt so real..” you hiccuped out, shaking a bit from the shock.

dean scooted closer to you, his arm wrapping around your body and pushed you back into him. “it was all fake hon, nothing in that dream was real.” he kissed the side of your forehead as his hand ran up and down your forearm, trying to sooth you to go back to sleep again. “i thought i lost you for good.” you sobbed out, biting your wrist to keep as much quiet as can, jack and castiel being in the room in front of your shared room. if they were even there.

“i’m not going anywhere without you.” his lips kissed the back of your head, his hand moving your hair to one of the sides to kiss your bare neck as he leaved little trails. “well dream you decided to go on a hunt alone.” you stated, sniffling. “so stupid, going on a hunt alone- who does that?” you glared at whatever was in front of you, and dean chuckled, his voice vibrating into your body.

“well you did before you met us,” he sang out teasingly, you looked back at him with the same look. “that was different. i didn’t have no family, no friends. thank goodness you guys were working the same case i was or otherwise i wouldn’t be here today.” you muttered. he hummed, “thank goodness we found you.” he kissed your lips, “now come on. we got lots of stuff to do later on today. let’s get some rest yeah?”

dean laid back onto the bed, while you had still been sit in between his legs. you hummed, nodding along with him and placing yourself on top of him, your arms wrapping around his body as you place your head carefully right on his chest. “i love you dean,” you whispered.

“i love you too sweetheart, goodnight.” he spoke, kissing your forehead. and soon enough, you heard his soft little snores in the shared room and that’s when you decided to fall asleep as well.

a/n: it’s been a fat minute since i wrote a dean fic. anyways here y’all go, it’s short but i LOVE it.

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester #sam winchester #x reader #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #dean x reader #castiel #jack kline #sam winchester x reader

316 notes · View notes

lost-between-letters · 2 years

Text

Let's Fight Tonight

Pairing: Jack Kline X Reader (she/her), side Destiel, side Claire X Kaia

Warnings: guns, fake death (as in no one actually dies but take care if you are sensitive to that kinda stuff), some making out

Word Count: 1,277

Summary: what says romance better than a good old battle where you're guarding your loved one's back?

A/N: beta'ed by the lovely @ohwowimlonley (so I'm blaming typos on her (no I don't))

Outraged shouts and guns going off filled the air.

"Jack!" Y/N whisper-shouted as she spotted the boy crouching behind a bookcase, gun pressed close to his body. He was unharmed though he turned and aimed at her with inhuman speed before recognition passed over his face.

Relief followed soon after. "They didn't get to you yet?"

"I'm faster than I look."

Jack nodded grimly and made to speak but stopped short and dragged her to the ground with him.

Moments later, his gun was going off at someone behind Y/N. Maniac laughter told them that Jack had missed though. Gabriel. He had been on Y/N's heels since this all began. Got Claire with a shot in the back before Y/N could save her. Jody would never let her hear the end of it for that - or Claire for that matter.

"Shit," Y/N voiced what they both were thinking when more footsteps approached, "any plans?"

"Shoot and hope?" Jack supplied. So pretty much their entire tactic for the day. And it had been supposed such a quiet day, spending time with people your own age for once. Oh what had become of that?

Yeah whatever. Wasn't like it would kill them or anything. "One last kiss?"

Jack smiled softly at the request and leaned over to press their lips together. His hand slid around her neck for just a moment and squeezed gently.

"I love you," Y/N breathed against his lips. She leaned their foreheads together as the steps grew louder, savouring the feeling of tender closeness before the fight would take them.

They had just gotten to their feet - standing with their backs to the bookshelf with just enough space between them to give the other room to fight - when a familiar voice echoed through the library.

"Told ya kids you can't win." Dean was coming from the left while Cas was rounding in on them from the right.

Both of them were walking the self assured walk of a warrior ready to take the win; their guns raised in perfect unison at the couple. Dean and his angel weren't here to take prisoners.

So Y/N and Jack had to be faster.

"What makes you think that?" Y/N stepped forward and deliberately drew their attention on her.

Worked like a charm too. Dean huffed, a smirk dancing over his face. "Oh I don't know maybe the fact the we've got you cornere-"

The hunter went down with a surprised sputter when Jack hit him straight in the chest.

And then all hell broke loose.

Sam - having heard his brother going down from some other part of the bunker - was suddenly right there, Gabriel at his side, and attacking Jack.

Meanwhile Castiel had turned towards Y/N who was determined to keep her stand next to her boyfriend. If they were going down, they were doing it together.

Guns were abandoned for fists and legs as the proximity didn't allow them, lest they wanted to accidentally hit someone on their team.

One shove sent Y/N to the ground, slithering to where Dean was laying. A grave mistake.

His hand was a vice around her ankle and pinned her to the ground with him. And here she had been thinking that he had been out already.

Jack - sweet Jack - noticed Y/N's peril almost immediately and bit and clawed his way over to her. "Leave her alone!"

"Yeah Dean-o no cheating," Gabriel sing-songed unexpectedly from the sidelines.

Wait, why wasn't anyone attacking them?

A glance to the prowl near the bookshelf confirmed Y/N's greatest hopes. Alex and Kaia were holding their own against two of the greatest hunters/warriors she knew. And that was saying a lot. Hell, they even were holding Gabriel back somehow - though he seemed more entertained than actually struggling.

Hey, whatever got them to the win.

Only that Dean had used her moment of observation to press his gun into her back.

"You tell me what you did to Charlie or I will pull the trigger," Dean threatened, his attention on Jack.

"You should be dead," Jack retorted and aimed again.

Which made Dean press harder. Y/N laughed. "You wanna know what happened to Charlie?"

She used the fracture of a second where his grip loosened and swung her free leg over his body.

"I shot her."

And then she shot Dean as well. This time, he stayed down.

"Dean!" Castiel lunged without thinking when he heard the body hit the ground for good.

His mistake.

Kaia took the opening as it was and shot him just as Alex got Gabriel.

Now only Sam was standing. With four victory high young adults turning towards him. He hadn't had the slightest of chance. He had been one of their best teachers after all.

"We won." The statement uttered with a sense of wonder came from Kaia. Her eyes were trained on the bodies around her, then slowly lifted to her team. Where one was missing.

"We did." Y/N nodded, a huge grin taking over her face.

They actually defeated them! A bunch of kids!

Jack was a step further already. Laughing freely. Without so much as warning, he drew her in and kissed her once again - in front of all of their family and friends. With tongue.

Y/N did not squak.

"Alright alright, game over, we do not need to see that," Claire said in that voice that clearly aimed for I-am-so-annoyed-with-my-little-brother-that-isn't-actually-related-to-me but didn't quite catch on that she was supposed to be, y'know, actually annoyed for that.

And with that, the spell was broken. Kaia flew into her arms, laughing and berating her for letting Gabriel get the drop on her.

"I still can't believe that you mojoed me to that damn floor," Dean grumbled and pointed his beer bottle at Gabriel.

The archangel in question was not impressed in the slightest bit and shrugged with his trademark shit eating grin. "Hey, you were cheating, I had to do something."

"I was not." Dean huffed indignant, "Jack missed."

"He didn't miss, I saw the freaking lights," Y/N stated as she re-entered the room. Beer bottles and glasses full of other beverages were handed to the grabby fingers of her friends.

They all let Dean complain some more while Jack pulled Y/N in his lap and rested his chin on her shoulder. This right there was his family. And Y/N loved it with all the parts that weren't already consumed by Jack.

The easy teasing that followed the aftermath of their laser-tag adventures was not-so-surprisingly aimed mainly at the adults.

"You're just a sore loser," Claire said and added smugly, "and still got shot the second time around."

"Yeah that was just sad to watch." Alex laughed and stretched out on her part of the sofa.

"At least I didn't get shot in the back."

"You really wanna go there Dean?" Charlie quipped, "your angel coming to your rescue?"

"Shut it."

Dean was getting grumpier by the second. It made Y/N want to tease him until he was as red as a tomato. But she was pretty comfortable right here with Jack and she didn't want one of his dads throwing her out for being giggly, thank you very much.

Turned out that she didn't even have to do anything to fulfill her goal. All it took was Castiel to look up from his own drink solemnly, nudge Dean's leg with his and say earnestly, "But I really was attempting to come to your rescue, Dean."

And there was tomato-Dean.

"Oh we are so doing this again," Gabriel proclaimed.

General Taglist: @immrbrightsideee, @fandomfoodiedancer, @lovesfandoms, @nyotamalfoy, @stixnstripesworld , @foxyjwls007 , @amythedoctor , @alexxavicry

Jack Taglist: @sweater-weather-spn, @xoxokiaraaxoxo

Join a Taglist

#jack kline x reader #jack kline x you #jack x you #jack x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction

138 notes · View notes

kazuiislazy · 9 months

Text

MY SILLY MASTERLIST!! 🥳

Basically a masterlist of stuff i write except i haven't really written much (haha, i'm crying, i'm so busy rn)

Supernatural "Don't Leave." [Dean Winchester x reader]

"You're Perfect To Me." [Jack Kline x reader]

"Oblivious or Obvious?" [Castiel x reader]

some spn characters as college/highschool students [no pairing, just headcanons in general]

"Entranced." [Castiel x reader]

"Stop Pulling Away." [Sam Winchester x reader]

"No One Deserves That." [Dean Winchester x reader]

"Don't Stop." [Sam Winchester x reader]

"Take My Hand." [Dean Winchester x reader]

"All For You." [Michael x reader]

"Kill For You." [Michael x reader]

"You Drew Stars Around My Scars.." [Dean Winchester x reader]

LOTR/Lord of the Rings

"There's No Need To Apologise." [Aragorn x reader]

"The Plan." [Aragorn x reader]

"What's There To Like?" [Aragorn x reader]

Shadow & Bone

"You Should Be Scared Of Me." [The Darkling x reader]

"Did You Just-" [Kaz Brekker x reader] "Promise Me?" [Kaz Brekker x reader]

339 notes · View notes

insanesonofabitch · 3 months

Text

You know what would be fucking awesome? If they reuse Cas’ (and Mary’s) “watch over you” line, but use it to refer to God instead of Cas, kind of like how Chuck already quoted Cas’ “gripped you tight and raised you from perdition” and Naomi’s “came off the line with a crack in your chassis”.

“Watching over you” and not in a wholesome comforting angelic protector Cas way, but in a horrifying still-stuck-in-the-narrative omnipresent god Chuck way.

They could have Dean say it, or God say it, but I think the one that would be best to say it is a random devout religious person with absolutely zero intention of harm or malice. Just good intentions and a given purpose from the One above.

“God is watching over you.”

Well that, or Jack.

“I’ll watch over you.”