#jack kline reader insert

[take-it-on-the-run]

And I Love Her

Sam Winchester x Reader

The reader and Dean are being tortured by Gordon Walker because of her relationship with Sam, and all they can do is hope he'll get there in time.

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags: Torture, graphic depictions of being cut into, descriptions of gore and severe bodily harm, Sam Winchester is out of character depending on who you ask

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker

@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! Can I request a Dean and/or Sam Winchester (sepperate) x fem! Reader set in season two, with an established relationship, where it's like when Gordon kidnaps Dean, but instead of just Dean he also kidnaps reader. (I can imagine if it's a Dean x reader Gordon uses reader to get Dean to not try anything, and if it's a Sam x reader Sam just going even more ballistic than he originally does in the show). Thank you!!"

Read it on AO3!

A/N: Beatles title. My first Sam fic! Honestly, it was really hard writing this one for some reason, and after five revisions I'm still not completely in love with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and heed the warnings! Do not read if this will make you uncomfortable!

Sam Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Gordon stared blankly at the wall in front of him while you tugged at the ropes on your wrists. A bandana was tied tightly around your mouth that tasted like dirt and your own blood. Dean was tied up to the left of you in a similar state, and both of you were staring down Gordon like it would kill him.

Traps lined every entrance from the doors to every small crack in the wall. Sam was powerful, but you doubted he could break through solid brick. Grenades, tripwire, even a shotgun trap that looked like something straight out of a movie; Gordon wanted Sam dead at all costs.

You knew your boyfriend would come to you and Dean’s rescue, but damn was this cutting it close. Gordon had already tried his best with Dean, but when it was your turn, he took his sweet-ass time.

He punched you, kicked you, even spit on you. Now, you tried your best to not scream as he dragged a knife against the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder.

You failed.

Biting down on the bandana, a muffled scream ripped through your lungs. You tried focusing on Dean, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes which were spilling over with more tears than you thought were in your body.

You could feel your blood dripping down your back and your chest, slithering its way to the floor as Gordon wiped his blade with the rag in his back pocket. He wrenched your head to the side, forcing the fresh wound close and for more tears to streak down your face.

He repeated his process on you a few times.

Your arms.

Your hands.

Your legs.

Every time somehow hurt more than the last, the hunter pulling open your skin and snapping it back together like a rubber band. Your vision was spotty, but you held steadfast to the thought that your boyfriend would be here any minute to save the day like he always did.

Gordon took a step back, wiping sweat and blood from his face and arms. He looked down at you with a glare that you’ve held plenty of times for the less-than-human creatures in the world. You guessed that, in his eyes, you, Sam, and Dean, were held in a similar regard.

Snaps.

Taunts.

Cracks.

Screams.

All because you fell in love with someone born under a bad sign.

You didn’t regret meeting Sam. Kissing him, falling for him, even the idea of just having him in your life was enough for your mind to justify the situation you were in. It wasn’t his fault you were having your life drained out of you minute by minute, and you hoped he would be smart enough to know that.

“Sam’s going to be here any minute, you know. Gotta convince himself he’s the hero of this story, and I’m the big,” Gordon turned to you, knife in hand, “bad, evil dragon. But I’m not the one with demon blood, am I, Y/N?” He placed the edge of the blade against the bottom of your chin. You could feel the cold steel heavy against your skin, and any sudden move would surely spill even more of your blood.

Dean glared at Gordon, his face shades of purple and blue, which mirrored the pain you felt along your entire body. Gordon dug the knife into the bottom of your chin, piercing your skin ever so slightly, but not enough to fatally wound you. Your mind was trying hard to hold onto the cracks of reality that remained in your vision; the smell of the dingy house you were in, the feeling of the carpet making contact with your boots, anything that wouldn’t send your consciousness reeling over was enough of an anchor for you to hang onto.

Gordon walked away from the two of you, returning to his position of peering out one of the boarded-up windows in wait for Sam. You glanced at Dean, which granted you a glance back from him. His eyes were dry, but they held enough behind them to let you know what he was thinking. Sam was going to burst into this booby-trapped hellhole, and Dean could do nothing but blame himself.

It’s all your fault, really, a thought that smashed through what you knew was the truth said.

This isn’t any of our faults, you told it back, wanting to tell Dean the same. Sam wasn’t to blame for the two of you being taken, and neither of you was at fault for being used as bait; it all landed in the hands of the rogue hunter who deemed himself holier-than-thou.

Though you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you were starting to resemble a bloody pulp more than a human being. Dean could barely look your way for longer than a second, and deep cuts that surged whether you moved or not continued to scrape away at your consciousness.

Gordon disappeared, and as you tried to turn your head to follow him, you felt a burning pain across your chest. Highlighted by a spurt of blood splattering over your thighs, you wanted to vomit. The top of your head started to feel like it was being lifted off from the rest of your skull, and the black spots in your vision connected at the edges of your eyes.

You grunted, head going slack and opening wounds on the back of your neck. Either spit, blood, or bile dripped out of your mouth, but at that moment you didn’t care- the black at the corners of your eyes bled together, and all you could do was limply hope Sam would find you.

You blinked, slowly, noticing light creeping in from the boarded-up windows. The second thing you noticed was the searing pain in your body, coupled with grunting and what you could guess was a well-landed punch.

“Y/N!” Someone called out to you, but you could barely lift your head to meet their voice. The bandana in your mouth was pulled away and hands cupped your face, warming your skin that was ice cold after losing so much blood.

The hands left your face and moved to the ropes at your wrists, cutting them off quickly and placing your arms in your lap. You forced your eyes up high enough to see it was your hero, Sam, standing before you with tears starting to fill his eyes. If your face would’ve let your smile, you would’ve, but every movement flashed the memory of Gordon cutting into you.

Gordon.

“Where’s-” You managed to sputter out through a sore jaw and a severely dry mouth.

“Dead,” Sam answered coldly. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were a hue of bright purple, complimented with blood splattering up his arm. Sam moved your arms around his neck and picked you up as gently as he could.

“Dean’s already in the car patching himself up. I’m going to try and lay you down in the back seat so we can get to the closest hospital. I left Gordon in the room by the first door, so keep your head to my chest if you don’t want to see him, okay?” He asked softly. The tears that were in his eyes had faded slightly, but you could see the emotions he’d no doubt try to hide later on. Regret, blame, guilt - the more he looked at you, the more you could sense that your battered state was tearing away at his consciousness. You wanted to reach out, hold his face, and tell him you’d be okay, you’d survived worse, that it wasn’t his fault, but your thoughts were halted by Sam stepping past Gordon’s body.

If you could call it a body, that is.

His nose was sunken into his face enough that his eyes were slightly popping out of their sockets. His mouth had more gums than teeth, which were scattered around the room. He was lying against a dresser, and his limbs were spread out in the wrong directions. You thought you saw a bone, but before you could look closer, Sam turned and shut the door behind you.

Sam laid you across the back seats of the Impala, trying his best to be gentle with the abhorrent number of cuts across your body. You couldn’t guess how the hospital wasn’t going to ask questions, but you hoped the brothers would figure that out. Your head laid in Sam’s lap, and he looked out the window as Dean buried Gordon.

“Sam,” you slowly moved one of your arms to his face, bringing his attention to you, “thank you. You saved us both. You had to do what you had to do.”

Sam smiled but still didn’t say a word as he dipped down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You wanted to be able to tell him everything your racing mind was coming up with but were beaten by the overwhelming need to not move. Dean climbed into the front seat, beating the gas pedal to the floor and hitting the highway as Sam ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair.

[gilverrwrites]

belphegor possesses jacks body, reader who is grieving jacks death finds comfort in belphegor? maybe a bit of a crush..

Close As Strangers

Belphegor/GN!Reader

Author note: I tried to keep the exact nature of Jack/Readers relationship ambiguous, so you can fill in the blank as you please. Similar with Bel/Reader, but it has very much enemies to friends/lovers vibes.

Rating: Teen +

Genre: Hurt/comfort, angst

Words: 1624

TW: Grief, arguing, manipulation, crying, very minor mentions of gore, mentions of death, unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Please remember: You are allowed to make a big deal out of things that are really big to you.

“See something you like?” Your heart feels hollow as you watch him wiggle his Jack's brows at you. Blackened, bloody skin peeks out from the top of his sunglasses. His words, his movements, the whole thing made you feel sick.

“No.” You respond curtly, intending to stop there. You can’t help the bitter word vomit that continues. “Just you, defiling the body of someone I love.”

Belphegor inhales through his teeth in mock pain. Not a hint of sympathy or remorse. When he alters his stride to walk closer to you and drapes an arm over your shoulders, you’re too shocked by his audacity to pull away.

“You know, babe, I think I know a way to help you feel better about all this.” He says, offering you a smile that is too sharp, too smug for Jack's face.

“What?” You ask, your eyes darting back and forth between his face and his unwelcome arm.

With a gesture to his Jack's body, he answers, “You could love me.”

You scoff, ready to respond with something harsh and mean, but when you look at his face again, his expression has changed. His head tilted back, chin pointed out, mouth closed and stretched into a familiar smile. There’s that empty feeling again. You know that’s not Jack, but that’s his face, his smile, and at that moment, you couldn’t snap at him like that.

Before you can think of a response, you’re both distracted by the sound of a shotgun being cocked. Dean, who had been walking a few paces behind, presses the barrel of his gun between Belphegor’s shoulder blades.

“Get your arm off them and keep walking.” It’s an empty threat, and all three of you know it.

Dean wouldn’t shoot Jacks's body any more than you could insult it. Even if he did, it wouldn’t do anything.

Regardless, Belphegor, with a smirk, releases you and picks up his pace, but not without raising those scorched brows at you one last time. “I like it when he’s bossy.”

“If we’re all gonna work together, you’ve got to shut up.” You call after him, slowing your footsteps until you fall in line with Dean.

“Awwwh, I’m starting to have an effect on you.” He calls back, refusing to give you the last word, and you concede, crossing your arms over your chest and walking in silence.

"Are you thinking about me?” The sound of Belphegor’s Jack's voice so close to your ear, the feel of his unnatural breath against your skin makes you almost jump out of your skin, makes your body tingle in a way it definitely shouldn’t have. “Is that why you're so unfocused?"

"You wish.” You retort, snapping your head to face him. Admittedly, you had been slacking off, unable to keep your mind off the chaos that had been the last few days. Particularly Jack.

Belphegor doesn’t appear offended by your response. Hands in pockets he offers you a casual shrug before stepping back and leaning against the nearest wall. The two of you were alone, guarding the back entrance of the High School. There had been a lot of debate about who would be ‘left with’ who and for what purposes. It seemed nobody wanted to leave you alone with Belphegor, but nobody else wanted to be stuck with him either.

“What were you thinking about then?” He asks.

Without processing, without thinking clearly, you reply. “You. No, I mean Jack. I was thinking about Jack.”

“Am I sensing a little Freudian slip?” That smile is back, the one that’s too much for Jack. But for a moment, you think to yourself that it actually looks attractive in a roguish sort of way.

Feeling flushed and guilty at your laps of judgement you look away. Hiding your expression. “No. It’s just… I don’t know.”

“It’s just hard to differentiate us sometimes?” He offers, in a tone much softer than you’d come to expect. You know he has self-awareness, but you’re surprised he’s showing it. When you nod your confirmation, he continues; “It must be hard. I mean, I’ve seen loads of people die, probably millions, killed most of ‘em. But no one that I ever cared about. At least, not for a loooooooong time. I don’t really remember it.”

When you hear his feet against the concrete you watch him from the corner of your eye. It only takes a few steps before he’s in your personal space again, but he’s slow and calm. His face is solemn as he gently places a hand on your shoulder. You think he’s trying to comfort you, maybe? But it all feels wrong.

“I’m just saying, I can tell the two of you had some kind of connection. If you want to talk about it, I-”

“Stop.” You shrug his hand off and turn your back to him completely.

“Stop what?” You don’t know if he’s faking it to play with you or not, but the confusion and the hint of worry in his voice, Jack's voice stings.

“Stop being nice to me.”

“Fine, maybe you didn’t care about him all that much.” The softness and uncertainty is gone in an instant, replaced with pure venom.

You’re grateful your back is to him. It takes everything in you not to spin around and go off on him. A part of you knows you’d likely lose your resolve the moment you look at him anyway; you’re inches away from the brink of tears already.

“Oh, blow me!” Is all you can muster.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Malice, all malice. It sounds so wrong.

“I’m gonna sweep the building.” This is too much, and you can’t cope. You need to clear your head. “Don’t follow me. In fact, just don’t move.”

You don’t turn to look at him as you leave, if he says anything, you don’t listen. 

You hadn’t told the Winchesters or Castiel about your spat the night before. So here you were, patrolling quarantine with Belphegor. Alone. Again. You’re certain any one of them would swap with you if you asked, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. They were hurting too. Besides, you figured after last night that Belphegor and you needed some kind of conflict resolution; you were just surprised when he broached it first.

“You haven’t insulted me all morning.” Belphegor nudges your shoulder with his own, and you can’t help the quiet chuckle that escapes you. “What’s up?”

“No… Yeah.” You’re not really sure what to say, so you offer him the only thing you know for sure. “My head is a mess right now.”

“I know.” He gives you that relaxed shrug you’ve begun to associate with him. There’s no way of knowing how earnest he’s being, but he seems surprisingly understanding, for a demon at least. “This whole situation is a mess, and you’re grieving. Can’t blame you.”

“Thanks. And thank you for helping us.” You smile at him, it’s a weak smile, but he smiles back and that tingle from last night returns. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“I know one way you can make it up to me.” You hold your breath in apprehension. Certain he was about to spoil the moment. “You can talk to me.”

Still tense from your moment of dread, you respond immediately and defensively, “We are talking.”

Clearly unbothered by your cautious reply, Belphegor goes on, “You can talk to me about Jack. It's not good to keep it all bottled up.”

You feel bad for assuming the worst. You’ve felt bad for a long time. How good would it feel to get some of that off your chest? How easy would it be to talk to Jack about it? Only, this isn’t Jack. This is Belphegor, who, for all his apparent kindness, is still a stranger. A dangerous stranger.

“I really don’t think I can do that.” The tingle on your skin is gone, replaced by the ever-lingering emptiness.

“Why?” The familiar venom creeps back into his tone.

“Because y-” As much as you want to tell him it’s because you can’t trust him, you don’t. You can't afford to lose his assistance right now. “Why do you want me to?”

“Oh what? Because I’m a demon I can’t care about you? Is that it? I find that offensive.” There’s a tinge of humour in his voice, but you’re still shocked by how accurately he hit the hammer on the nail. So shocked, in fact, that your only response is to stare at him slack-jawed. “You don’t have to be strong and good all the time, you know? Let me help you. I’m begging you to let me help you.”

He stops his strides, forcing you to halt with him and turns to look at you straight on, jaw clenched as he impatiently waits for you to say something. Anything.

In that moment, with explicit permission to be vulnerable, the tears you’d held back last night, the tears you’d been holding back for a long time, finally come out. It starts slow, a tear rolls down each cheek, and you sniff to try and hold them back. You press your jacket sleeve to your eyes, but for every tear you soak up, another falls, until you’re heart-pounding, blurry-eyed sobbing.

When you feel Belphegor’s cold hands on you, you don’t pull away. You let him come close, you let him cup your face and use his thumb to wipe your tears, you let him guide you until you're chest-to-chest, your face cradled in the crook of his neck, you let him caress your neck and rub your back. You let him Jack lean down to whisper in your ear. “It’s okay. I’m here, don’t worry.”

[castielscaplan]

looking for new blogs to follow!

im in the process of unfollowing inactive blogs. im looking for blogs who post the following! I deleted the mcu option since im no longer in that fandom. So please signal boost this version!

SPN

Mortal Kombat things

Stranger Things

ATLA

If you WRITE for any of these fandoms (or write fanfics in general)

PLEASE! signal boost this post!!

[supercap2319]

Y/N came down the stairs of the bunker towards the library. He had a stupid grin on his face, and he was carrying various Valentine's Day items. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

He hands the brothers, Cas, and Jack each a gift to commemorate this special occasion. He hands Castiel a heart-shaped box of chocolates. "Slut." He affectional calls the angel of the Lord. Cas opens the box and picks up a chocolate, and takes a bite before scarfing down the rest.

Y/N hands Jack at Teddy Bear. "Sweet face." Jack enthusiastically hugs the toy and introduces himself to the bear.

He looks at Dean. "Bitch." He hands him a store bought pie shaped like a heart as Dean's green eyes lighten up with joy.

Finally, he looks at Sam and hands him flowers. "For the sexiest guy that I know." Sam blushed and took the flowers and smelled them with a smile on his face.

[kaleldobrev]

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)

[daisyxdaydreams]

Supernatural Masterlist

Main Masterlist TV Show Masterlist

Started: July 15, 2025

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Castiel

Jack Kline

Gabriel

John Winchester

Lucifer

Crowley

Adam Milligan

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Requests for Writing and Artwork

Anonymous welcome!

Note: I write about how the characters interact with the world and each other. I focus on the characters, not necessarily the conflict unless it is interfering in their relationship or stopping them from being around each other. It’s all about the people.

Word count: 1,000 minimum

Rating: Any

Types: NSFW or SFW

Kinks: Yes (it’s easier to say what I WON’T do—No Vore except blood drinking, No necrophilia unless sex with vampire—they gotta be able to consent, No Incest, No pee, no poo)

Tropes: meet cute, meet ugly, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, boss/employee, polyamory, **a/b/o**, kid fic, parent-focused fic, mpreg, apocalypse, damsel in distress (rescue), canon divergent, sex worker/prostitute/stripper, interspecies relationship, imbalanced power dynamics, love at first sight, hurt/comfort, shifter/skinwalker, roommate to lovers, or ask.

There are a handful or two of tropes I’m not ok with, so please select at least **3** options.

Plot or premise: please feel free to give me your prompt in as much detail or as little as you’d like.

Pairings: Any from the acceptable characters. Polyamory is acceptable too.

—-

Reader insert: If you select Reader as a character, please advise the POV, such as first person (I am), second person (you are), or third person (she, they, he, them).

—-

Acceptable Characters:

Reader���male or female, LGBT+, Chronic Illness, Mental Health, Winchester sibling or nibling, supernatural being, MoL Legacy, Rowena’s child, love interest to Team Free Will, Hunter, psychic, witch, etc. (Just ask)

Moon Knight system (Jake, Steven, Marc; Moon Knight)

Khonshu (Moon Knight)

Beau Arlen (Blue Sky)

Alec McDowell (Dark Angel)

Soldier Boy (The Boys)

Dean Winchester (No Incest;Demon, Possessed, Etc)

Sam Winchester (No Incest; Samifer, Lawyer, Professor, etc)

John Winchester (good parent, yes! No incest)

Mary Winchester (good parent, hunter, yes! No incest)

Castiel/Jimmy Novak (Wings, yes! True form, yes! Unrelated, yes! No Twincest)

Arthur Ketch

Gadreel

Emma Winchester

Charlie Bradbury

Gilda (Fairy)

Dorothy Baum

Billie (Reaper, yes! Death, yes!)

Death (YES!)

Lucifer/Nick (Wings, yes!)

Gabriel (Wings,yes!)

Balthazar (Wings, yes!)

Bobby Singer

Rufus Turner

Ellen Harvelle

Jo Harvelle

Jody Mills, Sheriff

Donna Hanscum, Sheriff

Claire Novak

Kaia Novak

Annie/Alex

Patience Turner

The Barnes Twins (no incest)

Missouri Moseley

Rowena MacLeod (Witchy, yes!)

Crowley/Fergus MacLeod (Demon form, yes)

Pamela Barnes

Adam Milligan

Michael (Archangel)

Horseman Death (portrayed by Julian Richings)

Meg 2.0

Jack Kline

Demons

Angels

Gods/Goddesses

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Trapped

Trapped https://ift.tt/NnogSGU by again_with_this_bitch (y/n) is from a different universe but what happens in her favorite show is something she had hoped wouldn't happen. Dean and Sam come across a young girl, she is badly injured and they help her but they need to find out her true identity. Since they girl isn't very talkative they need to find a way to communicate with her. As this continues, she meets friends and foes. Words: 1125, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Charlie Bradbury, Jack Kline, Claire Novak Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Additional Tags: some gay stuff, Angst, Hurt, teen reader, Injury Recovery, Father Figures, Aunts & Uncles, Selectively mute, Reader-Insert via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/V2p0R4s March 11, 2024 at 02:27AM

[too-many-baes]

The Cambion & the Nephilim

Pairing: fem!Cambion!reader x Jack Kline

Warning(s): N/A

Word Count: 1.7K

Request: "Hi! Could I please request Jack Kline with a cambion (demon and human hybrid) significant other?" - by Anon

A/N: Woohoo, Non-Stop August keeps on keepin' on. This is a heinously old request, so I am so sorry anonny and I hope you're still active to enjoy it!

I still have a few days at the end of August to fill in, so if you have any requests don't be shy, send 'em in x

You stand in your almost completely hidden spot behind a tree by the bunker, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth and hopping from foot to foot.

You knew Jack could never afford to give you a precise time of when he’d be emerging to meet you, due to the Winchester’s erratic sleep schedule, but the waiting was always the worst bit, no matter how prepared you were for it. You currently had only been waiting 40 minutes tonight, your record being 2 hours. Every time you found yourself second guessing whether or not you should hang around, Jack’s happy face cleared any lingering doubts.

Sometimes you caught yourself wondering what your father would say, or any of your fathers’ friends. A Cambion, half demon, half human, hanging around and waiting for a Nephilim, half angel, half human, to sneak out from under his guardians’ noses. You could hear it now, the taunting and teasing, the chiding and laughing. You were a Cambion, chasing around after some Winchesters play thing like a dog with a bone.

“It’s Jack.” You were broken out of your thoughts with hands covering your eyes from behind. You giggle to yourself, pulling his hands away and turning to face him, keeping one hand in your hold.

“That’s not how that goes Jack, remember you have to say ‘guess who’ first?” You relay, correcting him on the greeting you’d told him about last week. He seems confused but relents that he’d gotten it wrong, simply smiling down at you, happy to be back in your company.

“So, what are we doing tonight?” He asks as he gets into the passenger seat of your beat-up old Camaro.

“I thought we’d go see a movie.”

“Which one?” He asks excitedly.

“Whichever one you want.” You pull up at the theatre and head inside, giving Jack’s arm a tug as he goes to head for the queue. He looks at you in confusion before a devious smile spreads across your face.

“This your first rodeo partner?” You question, knowing full well that it probably was. “You don’t pay for your ticket, you wait until the staff are too busy and you sneak in.”

“Isn’t that stealing?”

“I guess technically, but barely.” He seems hesitant at first, as he always was, but you fix him with a smile that has him agreeing to your plan. Just like you knew he would.

On paper the two of you shouldn’t have gotten along the way you did, but in a way you thought that you balanced each other out. You were both stuck in your weird situations, of no doing of your own, of being half of two worlds. Not quite human and not quite supernatural, it was clear when the two of you met that you were lost, searching desperately for how you fit into the bigger picture.

Sure, Jack was innocent and naïve, and you were reckless and liked to live on the edge. You made Jack live on the wild side a little, and he pulled you back when you were going to far. You figured that between the two of you, you’d figure everything out just fine.

You creep in and pull Jack into the bathrooms with you, instructing him that you’d have to hide for 5 minutes before you were sure the hostess would be gone. He seemed alarmed to be in the girls bathrooms at first, telling you that Dean had told him he wasn’t allowed to go in there, but you shushed him and calmed his nerves by telling him that everyone who needed to go would’ve gone well before now.

With your time up you pull on his hand with a devilish grin, peeking your head out of the door to double check the coast was clear. With a childish glee on your face you lead him quickly into the cinema and claim 2 seats in the otherwise completely empty back row. You turn your head and let a giggle out, resting your chin on his shoulder to whisper into his ear.

“See, how easy was that?” He looks down at your grinning face and smiles back, giving you a reassuring nod before fixing his eyes on the screen.

You hadn’t actually bothered to check what was playing, but to your amusement it was a fairly B-grade horror movie. The special effects were that poor that you found yourself laughing at a lot of the scenes, earning you a glare or 2 from other patrons.

Jack however was not enjoying himself. Whenever you’d laugh he’d cover his eyes with his hands, or nuzzle his head into your neck while covering his ears. You couldn’t help but stroke his hair whenever he did, eventually offering up a hand which he gladly accepted, squeezing on it throughout the movie.

“I don’t think I like horrors.” You don’t mean to, but one look at his ashen face has you peeling with laughter. Jack’s brows that were initially furrowed at your reaction eased as the laughter took a hold of him too, making you look like 2 giggling idiots. Although you often found yourselves in this exact same moment, laughing with each other night after night, you never got sick of the sound.

As much as you hated to admit it you knew you had to get Jack home soon, lest either of the brothers should awake to find him missing. You had had a couple of close calls, but you planned your evenings well enough that you always managed to evade them.

It would seem your luck had run out tonight though. You pull up to the outside of the bunker, shitty pop song blaring on the radio as you sang along and Jack enjoyed listening, to see that you were greeted by both of the Winchester brothers. You involuntarily roll your eyes, taking your time in putting the car into a rolling stop.

As soon as the car had ceased its movements Dean was yanking open the passenger side door and grabbing Jack’s arm, pulling him out of the car.

“What do you think you’ve been doing?” You hear Dean ask as you too get out of the car, unsure whether the question was directed at you or Jack.

“Chill papa D,” you decide to answer, raising your hands in mock surrender, “I’ve returned your precious little angel, not a scratch upon that pretty face of his.”

“Now you listen here,” Dean replies, releasing Jack and advancing on you with a finger pointed, “you stay away from Jack, you hear me?”

“Dean.” Jack chimes in from his spot beside Sam. Dean turns his head to look at him as he talks. “She’s my friend.”

“Do you even know what she is?” Sam queries. Jack simply nods at Sam, looking between the brothers with that innocent gaze that told everyone he couldn’t see the problem.

“So then you know she’s bad news.” Dean fixes his gaze back on you, his hard stare that was clearly meant to intimidate running off of you like water on a duck’s back.

“Jack’s not some easily corruptible child you know. He can make his own decisions, and that includes who he hangs out with.”

“Not where you’re concerned.” You let a tsk pass through your lips, looking at Sam with a look that was supposed to shame him for speaking. Dean retreats from you, going to whisper in Jack’s ear. The man’s whisper may have been a yell where you were concerned, and you caught his sentence as clear as a bell.

“You are not to see that girl again, you hear me? We’ll talk more inside, go.” Jack remains standing in place with his eyes sullenly fixed on you, to Sam’s shock and Dean’s annoyance.

“C’mon toots, can’t you let a girl say goodbye?” Dean looks ready to boil over at your attitude but a cough from Sam has him simmering down. A pat on the back and a nod towards you from the tallest Winchester was all the encouragement Jack needed to hastily make his way towards you, throwing his arms around your waist as your arms hold him firmly around his neck.

“They’re not going to let me see you again.” His words were muffled by your neck, but he raises his head and fixes you with a confused glance when a chuckle escapes your mouth. With his arms still around your waist you place your hands on either of his cheeks, fixing his face to you as you speak.

“You really think I’m going to let the Winchesters keep you from me?” His frown immediately transforms, but you shake your head at him at the motion. “No no, keep that frown in place Jack, they need to think that you’re still upset.”

He nods in understanding, placing a far more comical version of his earlier frown on his face. You place a delicate and lingering kiss on his cheek, pulling him in close so you could whisper in his ear.

“I’ll be waiting outside on Friday. Now go act heartbroken.” As if to sell the scene, when Jack pulls away from you he refuses to release one of your hands as you go to walk to your car. Sam sympathetically walks over and claps his shoulder, your hand becoming free in the same instance.

You seat yourself in the driver’s seat and forlornly smile at Jack, starting the car before blowing a small kiss to him. He makes a show of catching it and clutching it to his chest, bringing a smile to your face as you pulled away from the bunker.

As you look in the rear view mirror you could see the Winchesters shuffling back inside with Jack in tow, although his eyes remained on your disappearing car.

You smile to yourself and turn up the radio again, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel to the beat.

If the Winchesters seriously thought that telling you off would be enough to keep you away from the Nephilim then they had another thing coming.

You weren’t going to let either of you keep living the half existence you’d been trapped in before you met. Your halves completed each other, and if the Winchesters weren’t so prejudiced against your kind they’d be able to see that too.

No matter. You were going to see your angel on Friday.

Winchesters be damned.

[multifandomwritings]

Supernatural | Dating Jack would include:

Trying to get to some of my older requests along with the newer! Sorry the wait and I hope you like this! It’s pretty light and fluffy so I hope it’s what you wanted ^^

- Jack wouldn’t even really understand his developing crush on you at first. He’d explain to you how you made him feel, as the feeling would be unfamiliar to him and he would think you would would understand. Of course, you would, though you would be far too embarrassed by his lengthy explanation to admit it

- Sam & Dean both would be amused at the situation, Sam eventually helping Jack (and you, really) by explaining a little bit and talking with him about it 

- It would be a little awkward in the beginning, but in a sweet way. Jack would be so eager to please and impress you, asking you a million questions about what you were interested in, what you liked to do, etc. as he’d like to learn as much about you as he could

- If you ask questions about him and want to get to know him better too, he’d melt, finding you so sweet and kind. Dating Jack at the beginning would including helping Jack get to know himself a little better, figuring out his own interests, likes and dislikes, and so on

- He’d be quite intuitive when it came to you and your feelings/needs. In his own way, he’d be the best at cheering you up when you needed it and bringing you comfort

- You would have to initiate any kind of physical affection in the beginning — not because he didn’t want to, but because he wouldn’t really be sure how he should. As soon as the ice was broken, however, he’d be clingy in the cutest possible way

- Loves hand holding and cuddling, and often gives you quick pecks followed by a satisfied little smile by him, and an amused, adoring one from you. The more he can get you to smile by doing this, the more he will do it 

- He’d be very protective and defensive of you in his own way, looking out for you in more ways than you knew. He also wouldn’t be able to shut up about you ever, to anyone, often times including to you. In other words, he’d spoil you with very barefaced compliments and praises, confused as to why your face kept flushing deeper with every word. (Like....You okay Y/N?? *unaware*)

[kayywinchester]

Pit Stop

Jack Kline x Reader

Word Count: 649

Warnings: sexual touching/groping, implied smut.

Your head rose and fell with the slow breaths of the man beneath you. Jack had fallen asleep a while back, and you had followed within minutes. But, unlike the handsome Nephilim, Dean’s driving made you nauseous after a while.

So, there you were, laying back against Jack’s chest in the back seat of the Impala. Sam and Dean muttered about some nonsense in the front seat while Dean navigated… where were you?

The sun wasn’t up yet, so it must have been no later than four-something in the morning. You remembered nodding off around two-ish. A two-hour nap wasn’t bad. Honestly, it was the most sleep you’d had consecutively over the last few days. It felt nice to feel safe for once, to feel like you weren’t a sitting duck in some old motel room waiting for something to crawl through the window and devour your brains.

Jack’s knee grazed against your hand as he stirred. You turned to glance at his face. His eyes fluttered as he dreamed of, well, whatever half-angel men dream of.

“What the—” you muttered as something started to press against your lower back. Was Jack wearing a belt? No, it wasn’t quite hard enough to be metal—

“Oh,” you breathed. So, that’s what half-angels dreamt of. A smile curled over your lips as you slid yourself an inch to the left, putting just a little more pressure on the quickly shifting spot in Jack’s crotch.

You froze as a groan left the blonde’s lips. Your eyes flicked other to the brothers, but they didn’t seem to notice. Dean was going on about music artists and how the driver picks the music. So, you moved another inch.

“Y/N,” Jack breathed as his eyes fluttered. A small part of you believed he wasn’t dreaming anymore.

You moved again, exposing Jack’s now obvious bulge while you laid on your side. Keeping an eye on the backs of the Winchester’s heads, you slowly slid your hand down his ribcage, over his waist, and down to the bulge. The moment your palm pressed against the denim-covered mound, Jack’s breath hitched.

Well, if he wasn’t awake before, he certainly was now.

You dragged your hand back up slowly, appreciating the tiny sound that escaped with his breath. It was barely a whimper, but it was enough to make your skin tingle.

After another slow stroke, Jack leaned his head back against the car window and sighed. It had been nearly a week since he could do more than hold your hand. Now you were only hours from home, from time alone.

And for those few hours, you planned to drive him crazy.

You smirked as you stroked back down, loving the way he squirmed under your touch. Just as you started back up again, long fingers gripped around your wrist. You peered up to see Jack’s darkened eyes locked on yours.

“Not yet,” he hissed under his breath. You chuckled.

“You think you can wait?” you whispered back, pulling your hand back as you sat up in your seat. Jack did the same.

“Wait for what?” Sam asked, turned towards you. “Do you need a bathroom break?”

You turned to Jack, who just stared at you with widened eyes. “You know, Sam, that’s not a bad idea.” You eyes met the younger brother as you grinned. “I think we all could use a pit stop. You know, grab some snacks, stretch our legs. What do you say, Jack?” You turned to Jack and grinned.

“Yeah, I think Y/N’s right. We all need a break.” Jack swallowed thickly. “A restroom break.” Dean glanced up at you through the rearview and nodded.

“Fine, we’ll stop in the next town over. Fifteen minutes, tops.” You smirked at Jack as you crawled back into his lap. You leaned up and skated your lips over his ear.

“You think you can wait?”

[moeyy-writes]

Dance with the Devil’s Son

Jack Kline x Reader

Warnings: kissing, fluff.

Word Count: 1,255

A/N: Aaaand here’s a Supernatural fic for you all. I absolutely adore Jack. I mean, how can you not? Also, this fic is inspired by the song “Dance with the Devil” by Breaking Benjamin. It has nothing to do with the lyrics, just the name and my love for the song.

My Master List

As much as you loved spending time with the Winchesters and that adorable angel friend of theirs, you very much valued your alone time. Especially after a difficult case, you needed to not hear Dean blabbering on about his car or his taste in music. You craved silence from Sam trying to get you to give him cooking lessons. And, most of all, you really needed a break from Castiel pleading with you to teach him about every single piece of modern technology known to man.

Honestly, the only soul in that bunker that never got on your nerves was Jack.

You sighed, knowing that the sweet young man, who quickly gained your friendship, was in his room huddled behind the screen of his laptop watching Star Wars. Sure, you loved joining him, but there were times where you just needed a break from The Force. And now was definitely one of those times.

So, you settled onto you bed and cranked your Bluetooth speaker up as loud as you could. Luckily, the walls of your room were sound-proof, thanks to the former Men of Letters. Then, you pressed shuffle on your favorite playlist.

“Here I stand, helpless and left for dead,” you sang with the song. It was a pretty sad song, but you loved it. You closed your eyes as the lyrics filled your room, instantly calming you.

A moment later, your door creaked open. “Y/N?” you heard a faint voice ask against the music. You immediately paused the song and sat up.

“Yeah?” Your eyes landed on gorgeous blues staring at you from the doorway. You smiled lightly. “Oh, hey Jack.”

Jack beamed and entered the room, closing the door behind him. “I was wondering what you were up to. My eyes were hurting from watching the computer screen. I think I should take breaks every once in a while to lessen the strain.” You smiled and chuckled.

“Yeah, Jack. It’s not good to stare at that tiny screen for all that time. One movie could be anywhere from two to three hours, even more. That’s gonna hurt your eyes and give you a gnarly headache.” Jack nodded at your words.

“What are you up to?” he inquired sweetly as he eyed the side of your bed. You nodded to the spot as a silent invitation, but he was oblivious to your motion.

“You can sit there, Jack. Go ahead,” you finally offered. “I’m listening to music. It calms me when I need a distraction from the rest of the world, you know?” Jack’s eyes widened.

“Are you upset? Why do you need calming?” You chuckled and shook your head. He was so adorable sometimes.

“No, Jack. I’m not upset. It’s something I do while I’m relaxing. It’s just something that makes me happy.” Jack furrowed his brow as he started to understand.

Jack wasn’t someone who listened to a lot of music. You honestly didn’t know if he actually liked music, or what genre he would be interested in. While Dean drove the car, and blasted his greatest hits, Jack would occasionally tap his foot or fingers to the beat. But, he didn’t know any of the words, and he wasn’t the kind to be caught with headphones over his ears.

“Do you like music, Jack?” you inquired. Jack gave you a confused look, then shrugged.

“I don’t know. Some songs are really nice, and some are too loud for me. I guess I haven’t heard a lot of music.” His smiled picked up as he lifted his gaze back up to you. “Can I hear some of yours?” Jack glanced over to your speaker, then back to you. His eyes were filled with curiosity. How could you say no to that?

“Uh, sure. I don’t know if you’re going to like it.” You pressed the skip back button, then pressed play.

The song quickly filled the air around you once again. You closed your eyes as the soothing sound shivered over your skin. You sang along quietly, unable to resist, and began to sway. Your head bobbed a little as the lyrics continued.

Jack shifted, forcing your eyes opened. Was he dancing? Almost. He was swaying, mimicking you with stiff motions and a smile spread clear over his face.

“You like this, Jack?” He nodded.

“Yeah. His voice is nice, and the thrashing sound isn’t too harsh.” You chuckled.

“You mean the instruments? This is rock music, so there are a lot of drum sounds and guitar. That’s what usually makes up this genre,” you explained. Jack’s smile widened a little and reached out his hand.

“Do you want to dance? That’s what you do when you listen to music, right?” You smiled, then took his hand. This wasn’t the kind of music you danced with someone to, at least not in the classical sense, but that didn’t matter. You could never turn down Jack. If he enjoyed your music and wanted to dance, you were more than happy to.

Jack placed his hands on your waist, a rosiness quickly consuming his cheeks. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His hands slowly slipped further around your waist and folded over each other along your lower back. You led him, swaying to the tempo as best you could.

“Who taught you how to dance?” you inquired as you gazed up at gorgeous blue eyes. Jack pursed his lips.

“I looked it up on the internet. I’ve also watched a lot of movies. I haven’t really practiced. I wanted to learn so I could dance with someone one day.” You chuckled to yourself.

“Does that give me the honor of being the first person you’ve danced with?” Jack’s face reddened a little more.

“Yes,” he muttered.

“Well, I’m honored, Jack Kline.” You sighed as you swayed with him, focusing on his breathing beneath your arms.

After a few moments, you leaned forward and rested your head on his chest. The motion surprised you as much as it surprised him. You never thought about doing that before, but something within you wanted to be close to him.

The next song came on and it was a little more upbeat than the last. You smiled as Jack froze, obviously not knowing what to do. You leaned back a little, studying him, then surprised yourself yet again.

Without warning, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. Jack didn’t respond at first. However, when you reached up and smoothed your fingers over his cheek, he leaned into the kiss. His lips curled against yours while his grip on your waist tightened.

Jack chased your lips as you pulled away, forcing a giggle from your throat.

“Well, I wasn’t planning for that to happen tonight,” Jack blurted bluntly.

“What? Dancing with me or kissing me?” Jack glanced away as he nibbled on his bottom lip.

“Both.”

“Well, how was it?” You could tell he was both ecstatic and shocked, which was the most adorable combination you had ever seen on him.

“I—I don’t know. I liked it, a lot, and I want to do it again.” His smile was so sincere, so sweet, that you couldn’t decline his request. So, you reached up and pressed your lips to his again.

The two of you held each other as the music swirled around you. You didn’t want this to end; you didn’t want to be alone tonight. You wanted nothing more than to be with Jack in that moment.

Thanks for reading. Feedback is appreciated. <3

[annehall24]

Gif credit goes to @angel-e-v-a

[mystical-moe]

Not Exactly Stolen

Jack Kline x Reader

Warnings: mild arguing, implied smut.

Word Count: 967

“Where’s my chocolate?” you growled as you entered the kitchen. You were met by the stunned gaze of Castiel, Dean, and Jack. They were all eating snacks and drinking whiskey, except for Jack who didn’t really like the taste. “Well?”

“No one took your chocolate, Y/N,” Dean sighed, rolling his eyes. He always treated you like a little sister, which was both endearing and annoying.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Um, I never said anything about someone taking it.” You narrowed your gaze at him.

“Did you check your desk? Bedside table?” Cas added lightly, trying to defuse the tension.

“Everywhere in my room,” you answered, not even glancing at him. Your eyes were on Dean. “I was starting to think that someone moved it innocently. But, now that I’m here, I’m thinking it met another fate.” Dean leaned back in his seat.

“I have my own chocolate, Y/N. Plus, if I needed more, I would just go buy it—”

“Even if it was right in front of you?” you snapped. Dean glared at you.

“Yes, Y/N! I don’t take what isn’t mine—”

“Bullshit!” You slammed your hands onto the table, spooking all three on them. You never meant for such a simple argument to become so intense, but this was a serious topic. A very serious topic.

“Who has it?” you asked slowly, glaring mostly at Dean. “I think I can narrow my suspect pool a little, huh Dean?” Dean just threw his hands up and leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t think Dean likes dark chocolate, Y/N,” Jack commented softly. Your gaze snapped over to him, locking on his mouth. A small brown smudge in the right corner of his rosy pick lips caught your eye. Bingo.

“Oh? Is there someone other than me who likes dark chocolate in the bunker? I know Sam doesn’t, and he’s not even here right now.” You grinned at your boyfriend as he smiled innocently back at you. “Castiel can’t taste it, which saddens me a little bit.” You leaned in a little, lowering your face until it was mere inches from his. “And I think you’re right, Jack. I don’t think Dean likes dark chocolate. I don’t think he’s much of a chocolate fan at all. He’s more of a pastry guy.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “I suppose.”

You leaned in a little more and grinned as you smoothed your lips over his. “So, using process of elimination, I only have one suspect left.” You tilted your head, pressing a light kiss over the small smudge. It was sweet, but slightly bitter, confirming your suspicion. “Ha!”

Jack jumped back. “Ah!” he screamed.

“Thief!” you squawked. All three of the men flinched. “You took my chocolate right out of my room! Where is it now? Did you eat it all?” you narrowed your gaze playfully. Jack simply shook his head.

“No. I only had three pieces.” Right.

“Oh, yeah? And where’s the rest?” you interrogated. He lowered his head.

“I-I was hoping you would come looking for it while I was in my room,” he admitted. He let out a deep sigh.

“And, that’s my cue to leave,” Dean huffed, lifting from the table. He glanced at Castiel, who seemed to get the hint, and they both exited, snacks in hand. Jack watched, wide-eyed, as they abandoned him.

“I don’t get it,” he muttered to you. “Was that not appropriate?”

“Ignore them,” you instructed. “They’re annoying.” You winked teasingly, before scowling again. “Why did you take my chocolate, Jack?” your voice was a bit softer this time, but still stern. Jack lowered his head, obviously trying not to look you in the eye.

“I wanted you to come looking for it. I was in my room and wanted you to come join me.” He sucked in a breath as you plopped down onto his lap.

“Why didn’t you just ask?” you interrogated, toying with his hair. “My room is only a few doors down.”

“I saw it in a movie. The main character stole something from the woman he liked and she sought him out to get the object back. When she found him, she realized that she loved him.” Jack’s cheeks flushed a deep red.

You furrowed your brow. “Jack, I already love you. You know that.” Your voice was soft now, almost soothing. Your thumb slowly traced over his cheekbone as you cupped his jaw.

“I know. I just thought that when you found me, we—" Your eyes widened before you could finish his sentence.

“Oh!” A grin curled over your lips. “You thought you could seduce me by stealing my chocolate?” Jack glanced down at the floor again, avoiding your gaze. You took that as a yes. You lifted his chin with your finger. “Next time, maybe try buying me some chocolate instead of stealing my own.” You leaned in and pressed your lips to his. “Or come up with something new.” You huffed a laugh. “Not all things in the movies actually work.”

Jack finally returned your smile, relaxing beneath you. “I’m starting to realize that.” He reached for one of your hands and squeezed it in a silent apology.

The two of you sat like that for a few minutes, before you finally lifted from his lap.

“So, where’s my chocolate?” you asked again, playfully this time. Jack chuckled, rising from his chair.

“In my room, next to my bed,” he answered matter-of-factly. He stared, waiting for you to turn for the hall. But, you just stood there, grinning.

“How about you lead me to it?” you drawled, winking. Jack stared at you for a few seconds, then stiffened, catching your drift.

“I—uh—alright. Sure,” he stuttered. Then, he turned, leading you towards your prize, and your chocolate.

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Trapped

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/4x8SJ1F by again_with_this_bitch (y/n) is from a different universe but what happens in her favorite show is something she had hoped wouldn't happen. Dean and Sam come across a young girl, she is badly injured and they help her but they need to find out her true identity. Since they girl isn't very talkative they need to find a way to communicate with her. As this continues, she meets friends and foes. Words: 1125, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Charlie Bradbury, Jack Kline, Claire Novak Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Additional Tags: some gay stuff, Angst, Hurt, teen reader, Injury Recovery, Father Figures, Aunts & Uncles, Selectively mute, Reader-Insert read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/4x8SJ1F