#I just don't wanna accidentally step on anyone's feet or feels ya know??

[whumble-beeee]

Whumptember 2023, Day Three

“This can’t be it”

Betrayal | Left to die | Running away

@whumptember

The Bee's Whumptember Masterlist

CW: Fear of heights, fear of death, character repeatedly called “kid” even though they’re an adult, knives, begging, li’l bit of blood

~2460 words

(Good lord this got long, I just couldn’t stop writing it. I may have to continue this at some point, because its just so aaaaa)

Part 2 HERE!

-------------

Whumpee’s head spun as he gazed down at the ground, a dizzying twelve story drop into the the unforgiving alleyway below. Then at Sibling's smiling form balanced on the building ledge across the gap. They were practically flailing at him with encouragement. Whumpee pulled back a small step. “I’m not so sure about this anymore, Sibling…” 

Sibling immediately deflated, not unlike an inflatable tube man when he when it’s blower was turned off. They raised their eyebrow at Whumpee, a slight grin tugging at the edges of their mouth.

“What, ya scared?”

“I’m serious, Sibling!” Whumpee pouted, before accidentally looking down into the large crevasse separating them from their beloved sibling again. Had it gotten higher in the last five seconds? “I don't wanna– I can’t– I– I–”

“-- hey, hey, Whumpee?” Sibling called out to him, their voice smooth as butter. “Don’t look down, look at me.” Something in Sibling's voice gifted Whumpee the strength to tear his eyes away from the dizzying height.

“You could jump farther distances in your sleep. I’ve seen it.” Sibling joked, a playful smile the only thing betraying their otherwise stoic demeanor. “You’re one hell of a sleepwalker. You can do this, kid. I wouldn’ta brought you up here if you couldn’t, I wouldn’t fuck with you like that. You can do it, I promise.”

“I can do it, I can do it…”

Before he even realized it, Whumpee was flying through the air, relishing the wind rustling through his hair and clothes, feeling the rush of adrenaline propelling him forward, knowing there wasnothing between him and the pavement below other than his simple act of propulsion. His leap of faith. He even enjoyed the painful pressure and force of the landing spider webbing throughout his body as he rolled forward and almost crashed into Sibling.

Whumpee didn't even try to stand up out of the roll, splaying out over the rough concrete and giggling profusely as the adrenaline gave way to a new sense of euphoria. The air was so much crisper up here, the wind stronger, the stakes higher! No wonder Sibling was constantly scaling the rooftops instead of helping at home, this was better than anything you could find with your feet on the ground.

Whumpee jumped up and started bouncing around just like his older sibling. “I did it! I did It! It was so AWESOME, it was amazing, I FLEW!”

The look of pride Sibling gave Whumpee could have satiated him for days. It was all he ever could have asked for. “You did amazing, kid, really. And the best part? You getta keep doing it too.”

Whumpee leaned over himself, panting. “Yeah… But also…” He grabbed Sibling by the shoulder and shot them a look of mock condescension, as if he pitied his sibling for being dumb enough to even consider such an outrageous untruth. “I’m not a kid.”

Sibling sized their brother up playfully. “Oh yeah, you’re a real Mr. Adult-man huh? Mr. Nineteen-year-old, Mr. take-on-the-gangs-and-save-the-girl mwah mwah mwah…” Sibling pitched their voice higher and gushier as they pantomimed their hands into two figures kissing, becoming increasingly more aggressive until their hands were just flapping and smushing against the other.

Whumpee clasped their hands around Sibling’s to stop the egregious display. “Stop, you look stupid.” he smiled.

“Mr. Big BOI,” Sibling continued, “Mr. MAN, BIG MAN BOY who can take anyone on in a fight!” Sibling pounced on Whumpee and wrenched him into a loose headlock, noogeying him as Whumpee shrieked and laughe, trying to escape his sibling’s considerate iron grip.

“STOP STOP STOP AUGH SIBLING–!”

“Aw, come on, Sibling, it’s inconsiderate not to stop if someone asks you to stop.”

Everything froze at the sudden intrusion of this new voice. Sibling dropped Whumpee, and Whumpee’s face almost smacked on the ground from the short fall.

“Then again,” The voice continued with a drawl. “We’re not the most considerate bunch, are we?”

“Whumper…”

Whumpee tentatively raised his head up to figure what the hell was going. He almost wished he didn’t. Four people effectively cornered them, backing them up against the rooftop ledge, and more importantly, the deadly drop into the alleyway below. Sibling stood above him, jaw clenched and hands contorted into tight fists, eyeing the person who must have been named Whumper. The perpetrators all looked at them smugly, though one did raise an eyebrow at Whumpee when he caught their eye.

“Whumper?... Who’s Whumper? Who are these people?” Whumpee looked up questioningly to Sibling, before addressing the group directly. “ What do you want?”

Whumper’s eyes lit up with an amused twinkle as they eyed Whumpee up and down, an almost friendly smile gracing their lips. “Grab the kid.”

Two of the goons were upon Whumpee before he could even think to fight back, grabbing at his clothes and pushing down on his shoulders. Sibling yelled desperately at them to “STOP!” as the third one grabbed them by the arms and held them back. One of them kicked Whumpee hard in the back of the legs, and down he went, bare knees slamming into and scraping against the unforgiving rooftop. Whumpee cried out.

“WHUMPER!” Sibling screamed, struggling fruitlessly again the arms holding them in place. “Leave him alone, he’s got nothin’ to do with you!”

Whumper ignored Sibling, instead crouching down in front of Whumpee and tilting their head compassionately. “Sibling, you never told me you had a kid.” They reached out to fiddle with the drawstrings on Whumpee’s hoodie. “You didn’t tell him about me?”

“I keep work and personal life separate.” Sibling spat. “And he’s not my kid. Let him go!”

“Sibling, help!” Whumpee cried. He couldn’t take it. He trembled under the tight grips clamping down onto his shoulders. He tried to stand up, to fight back in some way, but the hands held him down, forcing his arms back to his sides whenever he tried to raise them. His breathing became increasingly fast and shallow. “Don’t let them hurt me!”

“Hey, don’t look at them,” Whumper said as they tied Whumpee's hoodie strings into a bow. “They don’t exist right now. Eyes on me.” They brought their hand up to Whumpee’s jaw to guide their gaze to them, but Whumpeejerked violently away from the touch before being forcibly righted again by the goons. Whumper sighed and pulled a switchblade out of their jacket. They opened the blade with a flourish and nestled right under Whumpee’s Adam’s apple, earning a squeak from Whumpee. The entire world went silent. Nothing existed except Whumper and the switchblade.

“What’s your name?” Whumper whispered, voice smooth as velvet.

“W-W-Whumpee. I’m Whumpee.” he stuttered, voice barely audible. He could feel the knife moving against his throat as he spoke, the uneven pressure biting into his skin, daring him to try something.

“That’s your sibling over there, then? You’re their brother?” Whumpee nodded quickly to both questions.

“And you don’t know who I am?”

Whumpee shook their head fervently. Whumper smiled at him, then tussled his hair like Sibling would. “Then I’ll give you a pass for talking to me like that. But only because you’re so cute, and I’m feeling generous today.” Whumper pulled at the end of one of Whumpees hoodie strings, untying the bow. “And only if you promise to never speak so disrespectfully to me again. You promise?” 

Whumpee pursed his lips and nodded, eyes squeezed shut so tight that he wasn’t sure he’d ever see light again.

“Come again? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes, yes, okay!” Whumpee finally squeaked out.

The blade against his throat pressed in deeper, stinging, and Whumpee let out an accidental whine. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, uh yes… Sir! Yes, sir! Er ah, yes, ma’am? Uh, Captain?!” Whumpee despaired. He was gonna have his throat slit because they couldn’t figure out the right honorific. 

Except Whumpee didn’t feel the sharp point of the knife cutting through his windpipe anymore. Instead, an amused laugh escape the throat of Whumper above him. “Damn, kid, I kinda like that. ‘Captain!’ I should use that.” Whumpee felt a pat on the head and, mercifully, the sharp pressure leaving his throat. “Good boy.”

And suddenly the entire world was back again. All the senses assaulted Whumpee, the bright light of the sun and the honking cars and bustle of the streets and the thin crimson streaks now painting his hands after he grasped at his neck and Sibling staring daggers at Whumper and the hands still clamping down on his shoulder and the tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. Whumpee couldn’t have been happier for it. He was alive!

“Now, Sibling,” Whumper started as they stood up. “Back to the business at hand–”

“I don’t have the damn money, Whumper. Let Whumpee go, your business is with me.”

Whumper narrowed their eyes at Sibling, then they shook their head with a tsk. “Didn’t you hear the conversation Whumpee and I just had, Sibling?”

A SNAP rang through the air and Whumper jabbed their thumb toward the edge of the building behind them.

Whumpee was suddenly hoisted up by their arms and being dragged toward the edge, and when he realized what was happening, he screamed. He kicked out and punched and did everything he could to squirm away and fight the two goons forcing him toward the eternal abyss. It didn’t help. They shoved Whumpee up onto the lip of the building as one fisted his sweatshirt and strong-armed him out past the ledge, far enough that Whumpee lost his balance and started to fall backward. The only thing between him and the twelve-story drop, the nauseatingly hard concrete below and Whumpee becoming a fine red mist upon it was the hand twisted into his sweatshirt, and he clawed onto that arm for dear life, barely managing to keep his feet planted on the lip of the building. He didn’t care about trying to look tough in front of Sibling or even the gang members anymore.

“SIBLING, SIBLING HELP, PLEASE, HELP SIBLING I DON’T WANNA DIE PLEASE DON’T LET THEM KILL ME SIBLING PLEASE HELP ME THIS CAN’T BE IT PLEASE!!” He screeched.

Though the adrenaline and tears and bodies blocking his view, Whumpee could vaguely see Sibling yelling at Whumper, arguing with them, gesturing downward and toward themself and Whumpee and Whumper and the goons. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, he was too busy screaming and begging for his life.

Then Sibling ran. Not to attack Whumper, or the goons, not to save Whumpee. No, they ran away. They were running away. Whumpee barely even had time to register it before Sibling was out of sight, jumping over the seams of buildings with the person who had been holding him quickly chasing after them, away from their own brother and the people who were about to kill him. Whumpee shocked into silence, still dangling by the arm of the single goon twelve stories above the unforgiving blacktop. The squeaked, “Sibling?...”

“Get him down.” came the almost irritated voice of Whumper.

The goons unceremoniously pulled Whumpee back over the edge and dumped him onto the sweet sweet ground. Whumpee could have kissed it if he weren’t so shell-shocked. He couldn’t breath, and still he was breathing so hard his lungs were about to burst. Tears smeared his vision, soaking into the concrete floor. He wanted Sibling. He wanted them so bad. Where was Sibling?

Whumper stared at the spot where Sibling had disappeared, then turned their sights to Whumpee. “Wow, your sibling really just took off without you, huh?”

“I-I– they–…” Whumpee gasped. He felt so small.

“I mean, we could’ve killed you so easily just then, and they just up and left. Cared so much about their own ass they gave up yours to save it, I guess.”

“No, they– they–... Sibling…” What? They’d come back for him? They’d save him? They hadn’t just left him to die? Abandoned him, betrayed him, left him to the whims of a person who had almost killed him twice since he met them five minutes ago?

The goon who had held Whumpee out now fidgeted above him. “Well, what now?” 

“The plan hasn’t changed,” Whumper stated. “We wait for Goon to catch Sibling and then they pay up or I’ll make them regret ever being born.”

“Alright, what about this one?” The goon nudged Whumpee disdainfully with their foot. “He’s not part of the plan.”

“We could still throw him off the roof.” the other chimed in helpfully.

“NONONO!” Whumpee’s voice cracked, hoarse from all the screaming. “Please, please no– Jus-just let me go, I didn’t d-do anything, I can’t, I can’t–”

“I’m sorry.” Whumper interrupted forcefully, stepping up to Whumpee and looking down upon him as if he were a used piece of chewing gum sticking to their dress shoe. “But I just can’t seem to recall permitting you to speak. Let alone beg.” They pulled out the switchblade and started playing with it, folding it in and out, in and out. “Do you?”

Whumpee’s gaze fixated on the knife. He scooted backward until he was pressing himself up against the lip of the roof again, fully aware that there was nowhere to go but down. He pulled his knees up to his chest. “N-no, s-sir… Captain. I’m sorry.”

“Good.” Whumper flipped the knife around so they were holding it by the blade and swung it downward, bapping Whumpee on the forehead with the handle. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

The goons snickered. “Quick learner, this one.” Whumper ran their hands through Whumpee’s hair. “Good thing too, they’re gonna have to be now that their precious Sibling left them with us for awhile.”

Whumpee’s head shot up. He almost spoke again to question what Whumper meant, before the glint of the knife reminded him of the lesson from just moments before. So he just pulled his legs closer into himself and looked away. Whumper really seemed to be enjoying the show, smiling quaintly at the ball of Whumpee. “You got something to say, kid?”

Was he allowed to not speak? Probably not. “What… does that mean…”

“Right… you probably didn’t know,” Whumper scoffed. “Your sibling owes us a lot of money. Hush money, protection money, doesn’t really concern you, I’m sure. All you need to know is that Sibling is a piece of shit who refuses to pay us back. So the way I see it, you, my lovely boy,” Whumper gestured at him lazily with the switchblade. “Are collateral.”

Collateral? How could a person be collateral?

“What that means for you, basically,” Whumper continued as if reading Whumpee’s thoughts. They slid the flat of the blade under his chin and tilted his head up so they could look him in the eyes, so they could see the understanding in them and the blood drain from his face. “Until Sibling either pays up or we finally kill them…

“We own you.”

#whumptember2023 #whump #whump writing #whumper #kidnapping whump #kidnapping #whumpee #whumptember day 3 #day three: this cant be it #day three: betrayal #day three: left to die #sort of lol #day three: running away #this took me literally all day to write #i was so engrossed #im so proud of it too like i did a really good job with the one #minimal editing bc i have to cut myself off at some point tho #sorry if the pronouns get mixed up at some point lol

[cockasinthebird]

Dear Harringrove peeps, followers and mutuals alike, I have a quick question

See, by now I've gotten 4 anon requests (pretty sure three of them is from the same anon, I see you 👅) asking for trans Harringrove

I'm non binary with slight body dysphoria, and so I'm wondering, should I write it?

I worry a lot about being accidentally insensitive without realising it, or not portraying the trans characters the way they deserve

I love trans HCs and support them fully, but am I the right person to ask to do this?

Advice greatly appreciated!

#Harringrove #I just don't wanna accidentally step on anyone's feet or feels ya know?? #I'll gladly write trans Harringrove #But I worry about getting hate or accidentally misrepresenting anyone #And if any trans man reading this would be interested in being a sensitivity reader #Hmu! #I won't start writing this till I've gotten some kind of advice #Also gonna finish other things first ofc haha #I am open to critique about this #Even if I accidentally said something wrong in this post alone #Tell me! Educate me! #Yes I'm NB but I'm not a trans man or woman #So there'll be stuff I don't know stuff about #There'll be experiences and emotions #And I wanna do it right #My stomach doing cartwheels just by posting this

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Seventy-Four [Pt. 1]

Words: 3k

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse

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I exhale, turning to look at Nikki where he's laying beside me, a sickly pale tone to his skin, his black hair tangled, his hand that is clinging to mine, covered in tracks, the same appearance as his other hand. 

I can't help but wonder if I bathed him if he'd wake up. He reeks, and he's rough looking, only adding to my guilt. 

Fred gave him a sleeping pill to ease him off of his coke high--he's been freebasing again, just cooking it up in the room's microwave. 

I don't know what the hell to do about him. 

I wish I did. 

Turning over to face him, I brush his bangs out of his eyes, my fingertips lightly dusting over his cheeks, dark circles under his eyes. 

They were supposed to play tonight, but said Nikki came down with the flu and added the show to the second round of U.S. tours lined up for early next year. 

The Nikki I knew would have never put drugs over his music, his fans, and especially not his relationship. 

But, the Nikki I knew also wouldn't have cheated on me…

It's been hard to accept the fact that the Nikki I fell in love with six years ago, isn't around anymore. 

1981

I finish getting my church dress back on, grinning at Nikki as he gets his pants laced back up, the both of us glancing at each other in the back of my car. 

"What's mommy and daddy gonna say when I send their girl back home all turned out?" He asks me, smugly, and I put my heels back on, scoffing. 

"Gee, just come home with me and find out." I shrug. 

"I'll pass." He mumbles, pulling his shirt over his head. 

"Oh, c'mon, I'm sure they'd love you." I nudge him with my elbow. 

"Your mom would piss her granny-panties." He argues, wrinkling his nose a little and I just blink at him. 

"Maybe...but I'm pretty sure my dad would like you." I inform him. 

"Like hell he does." He says to himself and I just let out a breath. 

"So…" I say after a few seconds of silence and he nods a little, awkward tension filling the air around us. 

"...Well." He lets out in the same tone. 

"Good freaking night." I go to open the car door, irritated that he doesn't offer up to hangout and do stuff other than fool around, slamming the door shut.

"Hey, what's up?" He asks me, getting out next, standing by the driver's door, blocking my way. 

"Nothing. I'll see you later." I mumble, nudging him out of my way, opening my door but he's quickly shutting it before I can. 

"Viv, what's--" 

"--I'm gonna start charging you to sleep with me." I state blatantly and his hazel eyes widen, a shit eating smirk on his lips as he chuckles out, "what?" 

"You'd think since we have sex with each other so often it'd at least make us friends, but all you wanna do when we hangout is screw around and then go do whatever with the guys." I tell him. "And, no, this isn't me being a 'typical girl' and developing feelings for you just because we've had sex. It's me being tired of feeling like I'm just being used to get you off." 

"I'm being used to get you off so it's a win-win, is it not?" 

"You sound like Vince." I snap. "All that's happening is I screw you, you screw me, we leave, and don't talk until we're both horny again." 

"Is that not how this works?" 

"The least we can do is get food afterwards or something." I suggest. 

"...Like a date?" 

I gag at the thought. 

"Ew, no." I tell him and he looks confused. "Like, um...I don't know. But since I don't hate you enough to not hook up with you, anymore, I think we could at least get to know who we're hooking up with a little better."

"Friends with benefits?" He clarifies. 

"No, no, we're not friends." I point out and he let me get in my car. 

"I'll see you tomorrow night?" He throws out and I nod. "Wear something pretty--we're going to McDonald's." He smugly smiles and I roll my eyes, holding back a laugh. 

I'm shaking the memory away when there's a knock at the door and I slowly get out of bed, trying not to wake Nikki, slipping my hand from his as my feet hit the hotel carpet. 

I open the door, seeing Mick.

"They wanted us to go ahead and start getting our stuff together to leave." He informs me. "Apparently Guns has some solo shows at some clubs nearby so they're staying behind and we'll back up with them tomorrow night." He informs me and I nod, smiling softly, before he lets out a small breath. "I know you're hurt, and you've got every right to be, but would it not make more sense to file for divorce before you move on, as opposed to moving on before you even really know if you're gonna leave or not?" He asks next, under his breath so Nikki has no way of hearing it. 

"Ask your married girlfriend that before you come at me with it, Mick, alright?" I ask him neutrally, shutting the door in his face before stepping back to the bed, hesitant to wake Nikki up but doing it anyway so we won't be late. 

I wasn't shocked when Mick let on that he knew about Duff and I because, like with me and Nikki, he just knew when something was up.

Looking back, Mick had a point, but at that time he was the last person I wanted to hear it from, because Emi wasn't estranged from her husband, or even on bad terms with him. She was just cheating for whatever reason while her husband stayed in the blissful dark. Mick was "the other woman" therefore he had no place to speak to me about my relationship with Duff.

"Nikki, get up, we gotta get packed." I gently shake him and he groans out. 

"Baby, let me sleep." He mumbles, eyes squeezed closed, face scrunching slightly for a second. 

"We gotta be in L.A. in seven hours, c'mon." I nudge at him again, and his red eyes open, disgruntled, taking a moment before sitting up.

"I did it again last night?" He asks me, rubbing the crust from his eyes as I slip my slippers on. 

"Yep."

"Are they pissed?" 

"They're worried." I inform him. "I'm worried, too." I add, stepping to the door. 

"I'm fine." He says after me.

"Glad to hear it." I open the door, taking a moment to add, "and I'm not 'baby' to you anymore," before leaving. 

I get to my room and get my things packed, being interrupted by a knock at the door. 

When I get it open, Duff is on the other side, wearing nothing but his underwear. 

"I think I left my necklace in here." He tells me and I step aside, watching him grab it from the bedside table before he turns to me and says, "so, you guys are leaving tonight?" He asks me.

"Yeah." I nod. "Gotta go watch Vince walk down the aisle." 

He chuckles and I do, too, realizing how ironic the reality of it is. 

"...Is, um...Nikki okay?" He cautiously questions.

"Yeah." I nod. "I'm sorry I didn't go back to your room last night, I just thought it'd be best if he eased off before I went to bed and then I accidentally fell asleep before I could leave so…" 

"No, no, Viv, it's fine. You still care about him, even though he's shitty sometimes he's still the guy you've been with for the past six years. I'm not upset that you're making sure he's okay." He nods reassuringly. 

Before I can say "okay", there's another knock at my door, and I step to it and open it, Tommy and Vince waiting for me. 

"Ya ready?" Tommy asks, him and Vince both wearing sunglasses. 

"Yeah." I reply, going to zip my suitcase, Tommy following in after me to grab it, taking a double take when he notices Duff. 

"Hey, man."

"Hey." Duff replies, rubbing the back of his neck, before looking to Vince. "Vinnie, you ready to walk down that aisle?" He asks him with a smile.

"Yeah, just so Sharise will stop bitching about wedding details." He responds with a groan in his tone and Duff chuckles. "But her and Skylar are coming back with me for a honeymoon so just be on your best behavior--not that you aren't most times." He adds. 

"Nah, I'll give Slash and Stevie the heads up, though." He assures him. 

"Thanks, dude." Vince says back.

"Alright, see you when we get back." Tommy says, patting at Duff's shoulder. 

"See ya." Duff says to them as they head out. 

"I gotta pee and I'll be down." I lie.

Vince looks at me, oddly, with a small bit of hesitance before he shuts the door and I rub my lips and look at Duff, fumbling with my fingers. 

"You're not breaking up with me already, are you?" He repeats what I asked him before and I smile and shake my head.

"No, no." I grab his hand and tug him closer to me and he kisses my hair, wrapping his arms around me, tightly, and I rest my cheek against his skin. 

"Just have a safe flight, try not to kill anyone." He tells me and I nod.

"I love you." I tell him, looking up at him. 

"I love you, too." He leans down and kisses me, pulling away too soon. "I'll see you tomorrow night."

"See you tomorrow night." I agree, taking a mental picture of his soft grin.

The next day was spent scrambling to keep everyone together--especially Nikki--because Sharise deserved one day to be with Vince without a fight...little did I know the only fight that would occur would be between Vince and I, and not him and Nikki, like I feared.

"Okay," I straighten her veil, examining her dress one last time as she hands me my bouquet, "you look beautiful, Sharise." I assure her and she continues nitpicking possible flaws in the mirror. 

"I know we're already married so this is just a vow renewal or whatever but I'm nervous." She admits to me, fanning at herself a little. 

"There's no reason to be." I tell her. 

"Where's Sky?" 

"With your parents." 

"Where's Tansy?" 

"Getting her dress on." 

"Where's Nikki?"

"In the bathroom." 

"In the bathroom or shooting up?" 

"In the bathroom. Tommy's on smack watch." 

"Okay." She lets out a breath, trying to calm down. "Vince...is he--"

"He's ready to walk when you are." As I say this, the door opens and Nikki and Tansy come in.

"Sharise, the wedding party's waiting for you." Tansy tells her a little shakily. 

I think she's beginning to withdrawal. 

"Alright. Okay." Sharise inhales and exhales. 

"You got this." I promise her. 

"You're right." She nods and I help her with her dress as she heads to the door. 

Nikki, Tommy, Mick, and a couple other guys I've never met that are good friends of Sharise and Vince are wearing their tuxes with a hot pink sash, to match the bridesmaids knee length, hot pink dresses with black tull underlying the skirt. 

We file into line, Nikki and getting in front of Sharise since she's appointed me with Matron of honor. 

"You showered." I mumble to Nikki, impressed. 

"Tommy threatened to spray me off with a water hose. I didn't feel like being cold." He mumbles and I scoff as the music starts, the doors opening to lead outside, where we have to walk down stone stairs to meet in a spacious courtyard. 

"I'm getting war flashbacks." He says next once it's our turn to start walking. 

"From our wedding, yeah, me freaking too." I reply in a hiss. 

"I was gonna say from Tommy's wedding but sure." He scoffs bitterly. 

"Just don't leave this one every fifteen minutes to slip into the bathroom and shoot up." I ignore his comment, the arm that my hand is looped through tenses up and I can feel him glaring at me through his sunglasses. 

"Don't be a fucking bitch." He tells me as we step down the stairs and approach the guests, seeing Vince and the other groomsmen and bridesmaids waiting for us. 

"Little late for that." I point out. 

"And our wedding wasn't even that bad, Viv." He randomly cuts back to our initial back and forth and I fake a smile for the crowd, speaking through my teeth to reply, "Wish I could say the same for the months to follow it." 

We separate at the alter, and I push my feelings aside when I look to see Sharise stepping down the stairs, looking stunning as ever. 

When she gets down here, I'm straightening the back of her dress as she takes Vince's hands. 

The ceremony doesn't take very long, and once the reception comes and all the pictures are done with being taken, I'm ready to get out of this dress--but it's not ready for me to get out of it.

I grind my teeth, dreading asking this bastard for help, but I know he's got his knife and the zipper of my dress is stuck. 

"Nikki," I tap at his shoulder as he downs another glass of wine. 

"What?" He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"Can you help me get out of this dress?" I ask him and he suddenly bursts into laughter. 

"I'd rather fuck a pot of boiling hot oil than fuck you." He tells me. 

"No, asshole, I mean literally help me get this off because the zipper is stuck." I explain. 

"Oh." He says, turning me to look at it. "Yeah, I guess." He stands up and I head to the bathroom as he pulls his pocket knife from his pocket.

Once we get to the bathroom, I'm pulling my arms from the sleeves the best I can before I look at him. 

"Just go to sawing away here." I point to the seam that's three-fourths zipped. 

He starts cutting at it, and it soon gets looser and looser to the point there should be plenty of room to finish pushing it down my hips...and I would if his hands weren't steadily holding at my bare sides, his eyes on my back as I look at him in the mirror and wait for him to snap back into reality. 

He never does, and I'm forced to clear my throat to whisk the tension away. 

"Um, I got it from here." I tell him, hinting that his hands on my skin aren't needed.

He just looks at me in the mirror and holds at them tighter, making me go to hit at the tops of his hands, only I realize this is one of the few moments he probably finds peace in because he can pretend, even for a second, that everything isn't screwed sideways. 

I just rest my palms over his hands, making eye contact with him in the mirror, looking us over, and I smile sadly, realizing we won't ever be those people again. 

After his moment is finished, he's gently patting my sides before taking a step back and putting his knife back into his pocket. 

"Thanks, again." I say to him before he goes. "No problem." He mumbles, stepping out. 

I rush back to the bridal suite to avoid being seen half naked, to change into a more comfortable dress.

As soon as I shut the door, I turn around and see Vince nursing a beer, and I jump. 

"Jesus, Vince!" I snap at him, taking a deep breath and he rolls his eyes for a second. "What the hell are you doing here?" I ask him, peeling the dress down my legs, not caring that he's getting an eyeful of me in nothing but skimpy panties since he's seen me completely naked in the pictures of me that Nikki's shown off to him. 

"Hiding from my in laws." He replies, taking another sip of beer. 

"You're not supposed to be drinking." I remind him.

"Who's gonna tell them?" He asks me, raising his brows. 

"Doesn't matter if the state doesn't know--God knows. That's who you'll have to answer to in the end." 

"Oh-Oh, my fuck." He chuckles out, his tongue swiping the inside of his bottom lip. 

"What? You think standing before God and being confronted with the fact you're still drinking after killing your friend in a drunk driving accident is funny?" I hiss at him.

 "I think the bible warns against becoming a drunkard but doesn't it also say, "you must not commit adultery'?" 

My heart pounds in my chest, my eyes wide, and he stands up from his spot on the fluffy parlor chair. 

"So you can give me shit about killing Razzle and still drinking, but every time the sweat on Duff's back dries after he's done fucking you, it's just another nail being hammered into Nikki's coffin, once he finds out." He says, pointing at me with the hand holding at his bottle. "And that blood's gonna be on your hands." He adds. "Not mine." 

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Could you do a little fic where Jask and reader are doing one of those fast paced dances where everyone switches partners the whole time and its really cute, and then when the song ends, they're paired up, just as the band starts playing a slow song, so they kinda just. Stare at each other for a minute before being like "well ok let's just share this dance." (And then next thing ya know "one" dance turns into the whole night and they don't wanna dance with anyone else?)

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Jaskier x Reader Word Count: 1,497 Rating: G Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mycat-is-mylove @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me @daydreamer-in-training @morelikebyesexual a/n: Thank you for your patience xo

The crush of skirts and warmth of bodies roving in swiftly moving patterns in time to the music was stifling but you giggled and sang along with the chorus as you went, passed from hand to hand until you returned to your dance partner.

“You’re doing splendidly!” Jaskier praised, yelling to be heard above the din as he spun you around, his hands warm and nimble in your hand and against the small of your back as he guided you. You’d been nervous at first but the wine and Jaskier’s winning smile and sweet talk won you over. He couldn’t know how sweetly you found the words, not without knowing the feelings you held deep down inside, but he knew he was charming and you couldn’t deny he had every right to be smug. The sapphire eyes glinted in the candlelight, a sheen of sweat dampening the chestnut hair against his brow. You lost balance for a moment, one hand deftly caught by his as the other steadied against his chest, carding against the thatch of chest hair that had – as it always did – made an appearance when the opening in his chemise mysteriously grew deeper throughout the evening. His eyes twinkled and you noticed what was almost a faint tinge of color in his cheeks as you gazed up at him, taking advantage of your sudden closeness as you took your sweet time righting yourself.

“Are you alright, fairest?” he asked, the endearment one that made you roll your eyes and preen in equal measure. You wet your lips before opening your mouth to speak and his eyes watched with an almost indecent focus, a flash of something more than casual flirtation alight in his eyes for a moment before blinking it away. You lost your words and nodded in response, forcing yourself to pull away though you thought you saw as much regret in his face as you felt when you did it. The music swelled to a final note and then ended. You nodded and Jaskier followed suit though you heard him mutter something critical about them not properly landing the crescendo.

“Another one?” you asked. His face lit up again and he held out an arm that you began to take but paused when the music began again; something slower and softer and in the warm glow of the candlelight, distinctly romantic. The line of revelers paired off and you balked.

“Oh maybe not,” you murmured, moving to step away. Jaskier’s hand caught yours before you could fully detach and you looked up in surprise.

“Just one more?” he asked, eyes entreating. You found your body moving towards him before your brain could fully process the request and he eagerly, though gently, pulled you close. He placed a hand on your waist and guided your free hand onto his shoulder.

“I’ve never done this before,” you blurted out nervously as he swayed into the first step.

“Oh, this? This isn’t a dance that’s taught,” he lied smoothly, “All you do is follow my lead. There’s no way to get it wrong. It’s just us.”

Your mouth went dry but you forced a smile and before long it was genuine. His eyes never left your face but yours roamed around the room that was no longer a hurried cascade of vague colors but a hall of gilded artwork and detailed tapestries. You watched the people talking and laughing off in the banquet tables and the couples around you, boldly and openly in love in a way that made you jealous.

“Should I be jealous?” Jaskier asked. Your head snapped back to attention, certain he’d read your thoughts.

“What?”

“You’re looking everywhere but at me,” he teased. You laughed and shook your head, worried less and less about stepping on his feet and allowing yourself to become more preoccupied with the press of his fingers just above your hips and the way his thumb idly caressed yours as you danced.

“No,” you answered, “I just don’t usually get this perspective. I’m usually one of the people sitting at a table in the corner.”

“And now you can see what a terrible crime that is,” Jaskier concluded with a sage nod, “And you will never be allowed to watch life pass you by again.”

“Oh is going off on adventures with a witcher and a bard letting life pass you by?” you charged sarcastically, mostly joking but a little bit defensive because you knew the truth of it.

“It is if you keep yourself hidden in the shadows and let them take the stage,” he chided.

“I don’t think anyone could take your place, Jaskier,” you said. The words came out softer and filled with more longing than you’d intended and you saw his eyes widen slightly.

“On the stage,” you explained. A wry smile pulled up the corner of his lips and he shook his head, a shock of hair nearly falling over his eyes.

“Well,” he said, tilting his chin up and giving you a playfully imperious expression, “I should hope not. But I could use a leading lady by my side and Geralt isn’t who I had in mind.”

You laughed and Jaskier, delighted by the sound and the way your face lit up and adorable little wrinkles in the corners of your eyes and the way you threw your head back and every little part that contributed to the masterpiece that was you, kept going. He joked about Geralt being his lovely assistant, trying to decide what sorts of flowers to weave into his crown, the idea of trying to catch him as he swooned when Jaskier defeated an evil-doer with his lute. He talked and you laughed and you danced through it all, bodies moving around the floor with an ease that matched all the lovers around you. When the final song was ended you were both surprised to find the musicians packing up and the floor empty of all but the pair of you, still in each other’s arms.

“Oh no I’ve monopolized your whole night,” you said, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you tried to feel guilty and failed.

“Come now, fairest, you know there’s no one I’d rather pass an evening with than you,” Jaskier insisted.

“We see each other all the time though. There were countesses aplenty,” you insisted. You wanted him to say he didn’t care about countesses. You wanted him to say that you were the only one he wanted to be with. You wanted a lot of things, and you rarely ever got them.

Rarely, but not never.

“Were there?” he mused, “I only recall one woman, and though I don’t believe she was a countess, she commanded my attention far more than any I’d ever met.”

This was the moment.

This was the moment you would kiss Jaskier de Lettenhove.

This would be the moment, that is, if you were a bit braver. He watched your face carefully, seeing the emotions wash over your face from shock to excitement to anxiety and finally to sad resignation. You forced a smile you didn’t feel and took a deep breath that exhaled in a sigh.

“Thank you, Jaskier,” you said.

This was the moment Jaskier would see it.

The signal that you wanted more.

Even the slightest head tilt towards him would be enough for him to take another step, make a move he’d been uncharacteristically nervous to make. He itched to pull you closer when you moved away again and but instead he stood and watched until disappointment forced his head to droop downwards, eyes falling away from another missed opportunity.

He barely heard the rapid patter of footsteps, eyes lifting at the scent of the perfume you’d worn that evening returning and his face was still just beginning to light up with hope when you used his shoulders for leverage as you hoisted yourself up into a kiss. His arms quickly found you and aided you, anchoring and lifting you as your lips crushed together in an ungraceful collision. It was nothing like you’d dreamt of, more accidentally gnashed teeth and you regretted eating so much cheese as you momentarily feared you tasted like gouda, but when you pulled away you saw only bliss on Jaskier’s face.

Bliss, and a healthy smearing of ruddy lipstick that you knew was smeared across yours as well.

You didn’t care.

“What… why…”

Jaskier couldn’t put his questions or thoughts into words, fearful that any deeper insight would lead to the end of his dream come to life.

“Someone very wise once told me that you can’t let life pass you by,” you answered his half-formed thoughts, tenderly brushing his hair out of his face to keep the azure eyes unobscured.

“He sounds very wise. And handsome,” Jaskier quipped. You laughed and pressed another kiss against his lips, giddy with the freedom to kiss him as you wished instead of simply watching and longing.

#Anonymous #Jaskier x Reader #Jaskier imagines #Jaskier fluff #reader request

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter Ten: To Home and Friendship

(Images are not mine)

Rated: PG

~With every small disaster I'll let the waters still Take me away to some place real

'Cause they say home is where your heart is set in stone Is where you go when you're alone Is where you go to rest your bones It's not just where you lay your head It's not just where you make your bed As long as we're together, does it matter where we go?~

Home.

That wasn't a word I was used to. Not anymore.

"I stand by what I said earlier, Jack. You make an excellent pillo― Oh holy crap."

I gasped as Jack lead me inside the literal bunker that these guys apparently lived in. I wondered if I would ever get used to it, because their bunker was enormous.

We entered through a non-descript entrance, that nobody would have noticed, onto a platform that was less of a balcony and more of a catwalk which I guessed was the second floor, though I couldn't tell exactly because it was a bunker and it probably had more levels than I could see. The wrought iron railing of the balcony was formed into a design of circles atop rectangles. The catwalk ended with a set of steel stairs that curved with the wall.

My feet clanged on the metal as I descended the stairwell. At the bottom of those stairs on my right was a doorway that led somewhere else and on my left was what I guessed was the entryway. There was a big glowy-table-thing with a map on it in the center of the space, surrounded by several chairs. There was this big, greenish panel thingy attached to one of the tan tiled walls that looked like some sort of old timey computer equipment. Through a big gray archway, I could see into another room that looked like a library with a huge telescope at the end of it. On the far left of the room there was another hallway going off somewhere else. Dean stepped off the staircase and spread his arms out.

"Welcome to the Batcave!" He said, grinning. "I see you're impressed." Only then did I realize my mouth was hanging open. I closed it and shook my head.

"This place is colossal," I said in awe.

"Yeah, it's a little pretentious but you get used to it." Sam shrugged, passing me. Jack just stood over my shoulder, watching my reaction.

"True, but if you want protection, this is about the safest place in the world. It's got warding against every evil thing out there. Vampires, werewolves, demons, ghosts, you name it," Dean boasted. Just then, Isaac appeared on the catwalk, as far from us as he could.

"Ha! Then how did I get in here genius!" He jeered. It took every last drop of will power I had not to facepalm right then and there. It was warm in here and the hunters would certainly notice a sudden temperature drop. Was Isaac trying to get us discovered? (I'd say killed but he's already dead.)

"Yep, nothing gets in here unless we let it. Or, you know, bring it in accidentally." Sam shared a look with Cas and his older brother.

"Scooby-dooby-doo!" Dean laughed, shaking his head. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the story behind that or not. Meanwhile Isaac wore a sheepish expression.

"Oh, guess that’s how I got in then." Words cannot express how much I wanted to kick my brother at that moment. After he was finished laughing, Dean looked to Jack.

"Kid, you take Mcfly here, find her a room, get her all settled, then give her the grand tour. I'm gonna hit the sack." Dean turned on his heel with a wave and whistled his way out of the room. Castiel mumbled something about research and crossed through the arch into the library.

"We're gonna find the monster that took your family away, Marty. But until then, think of us as your new one." I looked up at Sam and was reminded again of how huge the guy was. His head was in a totally different weather system than mine and I wondered if it was harder to breathe all the way up there.

"Thanks Sam." I took three steps higher on the stairs and made grabby hands at him. "Come here."

Sam raised an eyebrow at me but obeyed anyway. I took a tiny jump and wrapped my arms around his neck. He stumbled back a bit in surprise but quickly recovered and wrapped his arms around me with a chuckle.

"Shut up, Gigantor. I gotta hug ya’ somehow!" I rebuked, defending my height... Or rather, the lack thereof. I guess his laughter was justified though. My feet were dangling at least a foot from the floor. I let go of him and dropped back to the ground, it felt like falling off Mount Everest. Sam just shook his brown mane, smiling down at me.

"If there's anything you need, like help reaching the top shelf, just ask." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, whatever Sasquatch. So, what are you gonna do?" I asked. Sam shrugged, running a hand through his hair.

"Put my stuff away. Then I'm gonna go reorganize the pantry, make sure you can reach the cereal," He smirked, and followed Dean's path through the other door-way.

"Way to rub it in, Sam!" I called after him. I heard him chuckle as he rounded the corner out of my sight. Then I rounded on Jack, who had been waiting patiently. "Well, Jack, if you wanna make fun of my height, now's the time to do it. Lead on!" I opened my arms, preparing for insults.

"It is rare that I get to feel tall, but I'm not going to make fun of you," He said, turning on his heel to lead me through the door-way behind us.

"Good. Cause' I might have slapped you if ya had." Jack looked back at me questioningly, but I just shrugged.

I followed him through twisting and turning hallways that I knew I wouldn't be memorizing anytime soon. We kept walking for what seemed like forever. Honestly, I was ninety-eight percent convinced that we might pass a sign that said: 'Now Entering Nebraska.' It didn't help that all the halls looked exactly the same.

"Back at the motel, the night we met, Dean said you had this thing," Jack remarked, turning to face me and walking backward.

"What thing?" I asked.

"I think he called it ‘A Napoleon Complex' or something like that," Jack said, innocently. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

"And do you know what that is?"

"No. I haven't looked it up yet. Do you know?" I snorted.

"Oh, yeah. I know," I said. Already thinking of a comeback for the next time I saw Dean.

"What is it?" Jack was simply curious. I smirked at him.

"Do you know who Napoleon was?" I asked him, I was pretty sure of the answer.

"No." Just as I thought. The Winchesters needed to teach their half-angel some history. As for now though, I could give him the watered-down version.

"Napoleon was a French dude, not to be confused with the ice-cream. He was five foot six and when people called him short, he blew them up." I told him. Jack nodded seriously.

"I see, so he was insecure about his height and used violence to compensate for it. Then, the complex was named after him." I had to give it to him, the kid was smart.

"Yep. Never mind the fact that he took over almost all of Europe, he will always be famous for being a human chihuahua." I had to at least teach Jack something remotely accurate. Jack frowned and his eyebrows pulled together as if remembering something unpleasant. I guessed he had come into contact with a chihuahua before, it didn't look like he was fond of them.

"So, Dean thinks you're insecure about your height," Said Jack, returning us to the original topic.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Are you?" I shrugged.

"Not really. I'm just obnoxious." Jack laughed, coming to a stop in front of a black door that looked just the same as the rest that lined the hall except for the plaque with the number 22 etched into it.

"This is my room," He said. "And that's Sam's." He pointed to the door on the left of his which had a 21 on it. "You can pick any of these other rooms." His eyes flicked to the door next to his on the right, room 24. I briefly wondered what had happened to 23. When I met his eyes, he looked at his feet, as if his shoes were much more interesting than me.

"Does anyone live in here?" I tapped the door with 24 on it.

"No, it's empty but you don't have to take that one if you don't want to." Jack glued his eyes to the polished cement floor and ran his hand through his hair, a tick I was sure he picked up from Sam.

"Why wouldn't I want to?" I asked, narrowing my eyes and putting my hands on my hips. I watched as a pink tint started to creep up Jack's neck.

"I don't want you to think that you have to stay in that one just because I want you too," He muttered.

"You want me to stay next to you?" I pointed out. Jack's expression went blank, his eyes wide as quarters.

"Um, I-I-I don't- I didn't mean--" Jack stumbled over his words. His gaze drilled straight into the floor, his hands were fidgeting, and his right foot twisted its toe against the concrete. His body language pointed at nervousness. Why was he this nervous? Was it me? He hadn't been this way before, what was different now? I decided to ease his nerves with a little humor. I stuck my hand into his line of sight and waved.

"Yoo, hoo! I'm up here, Jack." He flicked his eyes up to my face but kept his head down. "Well, not up per-say but you know what I mean," I joked. His smile was still pointed at the concrete. I guessed we'd just have to work on that.

"S-sorry." His laugh was a breathy one. I sighed, planting my hands on my hips.

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Jack. It's nice to have someone who wants me around, I haven't had that in a long time." I smiled in what I hoped was a friendly way. Jack rocked back and forth on his heels and his mouth did that crooked smile of his. He even flicked his eyes up at me.

"Well, uh, what are friends for?" He sounded like he was reciting something he heard in a movie.

I wondered whether Jack was trying to flirt with me or not. A tiny part of me hoped that he was and another part of me kicked myself for hoping for that. How could I think that way? Jack was two, he was probably too young to understand feelings like that, if he even had them. He probably didn't have them. He was probably just doing his best to make a friend, by going off what he had seen. I mean, the movies are pretty against a boy and a girl simply being friends. Besides if he knew what I was, he wouldn't be standing here talking to me. He'd be trying to kill me. Isaac was right. Any friendship I made here, would never be real. It never could be.

"Right," I said softly. Now I was the one looking down at my feet. But I wasn't doing it out of nerves. I was doing it out of shame. Glancing up at him through my lashes, Jack's smile faltered for only a moment. He grasped the doorknob and turned it and as the door swung inward, Jack flipped a switch and the white florescent lights buzzed to life.

The room was simply decorated, and by that I mean it wasn't decorated at all. The walls, ceiling, and floor were grey and a built-in shelf stuck out from the far wall. In the center of the space sat a full-size bed with a plain white duvet, white sheets, and down pillows. There was a dresser pushed up against one wall, a desk pressed against the other, and a tiny night stand next to the bed, all of which were fashioned out of wood the shade of walnut.

"Um, it's not much, but we can get you some stuff to make it yours," Jack smirked down at me and I ducked past him into the room.

Other than those objects, the room was bare, but I found myself overwhelmed. My chest tightened and my eyes stung, it was so little, but it was more than I'd had in five years. I shrugged my backpack off my shoulders and placed my violin case on the bed. Keeping my back turned, my face hidden from Jack, I blinked rapidly to dispel my tears.

"It's wonderful, Jack. I-I love it." I took a deep breath and pasted a smirk on my face. When I had control of my emotions, I swung back to face him. "Now, how bout' that grand tour?" Jack's brows pushed together.

"Don't you want to put your things away, first?" He asked, tilting his head.

"Nah, I can do that anytime. This place is pretty awesome, I wanna see it all!" I grinned at him, pressing all the excitement I could muster into my voice. Jack grinned back.

"Well, um, what would you like to see first?"

"No idea! What's your favorite room?" Jack's eyes flicked to the side as he thought about his answer for a moment.

"The kitchen," He decided. His seriousness made me chuckle.

"I like the way you think. You lead, I'll follow!" This time, instead of smiling at the concrete, Jack smiled at my shoes! We were making good progress. Now if I could get him to smile at my face, then we would really be getting somewhere.

Jack swung around on his heel and walked about four paces before opening a door on the other side of the hall. This one was labeled with 23. 'So that's where it went.' I thought, as Jack pushed the door open and walked through. Inside was the kitchen. It wasn't the kind you have at home. No, this was one of those industrial sort of kitchens, all polished steel and florescent lighting. (The buzzing of those light bulbs was extremely annoying, but I would just have to get used to it.)

There were pots and pans everywhere. Any sort of cook where you could imagine was in there, hanging on racks, dangling from hooks, sitting on shelves, or habitually left on the stove. What looked like easily one hundred white plates were stacked neatly on the shelves of the giant stainless-steel island that dominated the space. Two ovens, stood side-by-side in a little nook, one of which had a griddle attached to the top. Hovering over the two ovens were large vents of gleaming steel.

To the right of the cooking station was the preparation area and a sink as big as your average tub. I'm not kidding. The thing was gargantuan. Above that monstrosity of a kitchen sink sat an array of porcelain cups, and a tissue box, on a shelf. To the right of that, there sat a large stainless steel shelving unit that was home to various cooking supplies and four white drawers in the middle.

On the far wall, was a brown bulletin board decorated with various notes, covered in scribbles and sketches, tacked to it. Beneath the bulletin was a table crafted from some dark colored wood, that was either oak or mahogany, and was attached to the wall. Affixed to the table were eight stool-like seats constructed from the same dark material as the table itself. Directly to the right side of the door, was a coat rack and six small lockers stacked vertically. The right wall was an archway and set of stairs that lead off into a hallway branching to the right and a different set of stairs to the left.

As I peered around to the left side of the door and past another steel shelf, I laid eyes upon what could only be the freezer/refrigerator combo. It was this enormous floor-to-ceiling white panel with five varying sized doors built into it. The far most door on the right was taller than me so I assumed that was the refrigerator and the other four doors were freezers. Why one would need four freezers, I had no idea, but I found myself liking the concept. Now that I had finished taking in the grossly oversized kitchen, I whirled to Jack and grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. I stared him dead in the eyes.

"This. Place. Is. Awesome." I pointed at the refrigerator. "Five bucks says I could fit in there!" Jack's gaze followed my finger and he nodded.

"I think you could," He said. I took another glance around the space. I couldn't help it. The laugh bubbled up from my stomach, filled my chest, and bloomed in my throat. It had been a long, long, long, time since I had laughed like that.

"I went from having nothing, to living in this place! This is amazing!" I flung my arms around Jack. It was quite the feat on my part to refrain from crushing his ribs. I was so excited I could hardly contain it. I was bouncing up and down on my toes like a little girl! Though I guess, in the eyes of Jack and the others, that’s sort of what I was.

"I'm glad you like it!" Jack said, grinning.

"I don't like it, Jack. I love it!" I exclaimed. My stomach growled like an angry bear, just being in here was making me hungry. "Hey, as long as we're here, got anything good to eat? I'm starving!" That last bit was nothing new, I was always starving these days, always craving. But I was never craving food. Jack's throat suddenly looked extremely tasty. Thankfully, his voice broke me away from that train of thought.

"I like ice-cream," He said, brightly.

"Jack?”

"Hm?"

"We are gonna be awesome friends."

No, home wasn't a word I was used to. Not anymore. But I realized with a start, that for the first time in five years, I had one. A real one.

It looked like I was gonna have to get used to it.

Jack knelt down and opened the door on the bottom left of the freezer/refrigerator combo that I then dubbed 'The Wall of Cold Stuff'. He reached in, grabbed a tub of ice cream, then stood and kicked the door shut.

"The bowls are down there and the spoons are in the top left drawer," He said, pointing to the shelf in the back. I made my way over and grabbed two of each. We both sat at the table, across from each other, and Jack served up the ice cream. I then got the chance to glance at the ice cream's label. It was chocolate-chip-cookie-dough.

"This is my favorite flavor. What's yours?" I asked him, shoveling ice cream into my mouth and moaning as the sugary goodness coated my tongue. Jack must have found that funny because he ducked his head and laughed.

"I don't know. This one is pretty good, but I love the mint and brownie ones as well," He told me. I had noticed that Jack always took great care to think about his answers before he gave them. He took and asked every question seriously. I got the feeling that Jack was the sort of person who's curiosity was never satisfied.

"I can vibe with that," I agreed. Jack's brows furrowed, he placed his spoon down on the table, folded his hands in his lap and leaned forward.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what that means. Could you explain it?" He asked. I liked the way he behaved when he was curious about something, Jack just dropped everything to learn and focused entirely on whatever it was he was trying to understand. Right now, that thing was me. I found that I didn't mind his undivided attention.

"Oh, um, it means that you agree with something somebody said. Its like saying 'you're right' or 'I agree with you' or 'that's cool'," I explained. Jack nodded.

"I think I understand." I gave him a thumbs up and scooped another spoonful of ice-cream into my mouth, closing my eyes and savoring the flavor with a deep sigh.

"You know, it's been five years since I last had ice cream," I said. Jack froze his ice cream eating with his spoon still stuck in his mouth, his expression morphing into one of horror and pity.

"That's awful!" He said, he'd removed the spoon, but his mouth was still full of the dessert, "No one should have to go without ice cream for that long!"

"My friend, you are absolutely right," I replied, pointing my spoon at him. "Here's to ice cream and sugar highs!" I tapped my bowl with the spoon and Jack copied me, albeit somewhat confused as to what I was doing. Speaking of sugar highs, I could already feel one building up already. It had been way too long since I'd had this much sugar.

"Marty?" Jack wanted my attention.

"Hm?"

"I had a dream about you last night," He said, changing the subject. I stared up at him, pulling my spoon out of my mouth.

"Should I be worried?"

"No."

"What was I doing in this dream of yours?" I asked, straining to keep the nervousness that was building in my chest out of my voice. Jack frowned, picking at his ice cream.

"You said-- You told me you were dangerous and I shouldn't trust you, that you're hiding something."

I bit my lip, my eyes widening with shock. I struggled to keep calm and natural, my reactions could give me away. Just as I'd settled my expression, Jack looked up. "I can trust you, right?" I smiled as genuinely as I could, which was difficult to do with his gaze piercing into my soul like it was.

"Of course, you can! I may be clever but I'm not exactly diabolical," I said, giving my best laugh. Jack smiled and nodded, though I got the notion that he was reassuring himself more than anything. If he was going to say something else, he never got the chance because at that moment, Sam strolled into the room.

He stopped in his tracks when he caught sight of us at the table. Our heads snapped up at the same time and we froze. Jack had his spoonful halfway to his mouth and mine was already there. The three of us just stared at each other for a moment but Sam was the first to react.

"Come on guys, really?! It's six A.M.!" He exclaimed. I shrugged, removing the spoon from my mouth and pointing it at him.

"AM, PM. What's the difference? Live a little!" With that comment alone, Sam figured he wouldn't be getting anywhere with me, so he turned to Jack.

"Jack, come on, be an example." Jack glanced at his spoonful of dessert and shoved in in his mouth, quickly.

"Technically," He pointed out, directing his spoon at me, "She's older than me!"

"Hey!" I protested.

"What?"

"This was your idea!"

Jack shrugged. "I know, but you agreed. I was just stating a fact," he said. Sam sighed, shaking his head. The two of us turned our attention back to him.

"Jack, throw it away and put the container back in the freezer. If you want ice cream, you can have it at dinner. Not at six in the morning," He scolded. Jack swallowed his mouthful of ice cream.

"But Sam, look at how happy she is! Marty hasn't had ice cream for five years!" He tried. I nodded vigorously to emphasize the point.

"It's true, Sam. You only live once!" I said, shoving another bite of ice cream in my mouth. Sam's eyes flicked back and forth between us.

"Fine. Just this once," He sighed.

"Thanks Sam!" Jack and I grinned.

"Yeah, whatever." Sam rolled his eyes and left the kitchen, but I could hear the hint of a smile in his voice. When he was gone, Jack sighed with relief.

"I take it you do this a lot," I said to him. He looked at the ice cream with a guilty expression.

"I wouldn't say a lot."

"But often enough for him not to be surprised?"

"Yeah." Jack grinned sheepishly.

"Does he always catch you?" I asked him.

"Every time, yes."

We finished our ice cream and put our dishes in the sink. Then, Jack proceeded to show me the rest of the bunker. Sometimes I would ask about what was in few of the rooms and he would reply with an 'I don't know' or a few times a rather disturbing 'You don't want to know'. To say that his cryptic warning had no effect on me would be a lie. He spoke the words in a light hearted way that just made me more worried. So, I tried to push any speculations as to the contents of those rooms from my mind but kept step slightly closer to Jack from then on.

He showed me a garage full of a bunch of old-timey cars that I found myself figuratively drooling over, a room full of antique electronic equipment he told me not to touch, an impressive gym with an adjacent shower room, an infirmary, a shooting range that looked like a lot of fun, something they called the 'War Room' which was where the glowy table was, the extensive library, and an alcove with an gigantic telescope that Jack claimed nobody could figure out how to use. According to him, the glowy table in the war room could supposedly track monsters, but the Winchesters weren't sure how to use it. Much to my relief.

Jack also showed me a room where I immediately knew I would be spending most of my time. Jack rather confusedly referred to it as 'The Dean Cave'. I later noticed the paper sign tacked on the back of the door that was labeled with said name. Inside there was a flat screen TV, two recliners, a bar that I'd never use, a foosball table which I would definitely use, a record-playing jukebox that I hoped had some decent tunes, and a shelf full of books. The whole room was lit by these cool red and blue lights that looked to be made out of beer kegs. This was a place I could get used to.

"Jack, I think I found my second favorite room," I said, trailing my fingers along the rim of the foosball table.

"You'll have to ask Dean if you can use the T.V. he and Sam are still trying to figure it out." Jack sat cross-legged on one of the ugly plaid recliners.

"Remind me to help em' with that. I'm tech-y," I replied, walking over to observe the jukebox. I didn't know most of the titles displayed on the devices list of records, but my eyes landed on one that I'd know even if it was written in Chinese. "Oh my gosh! Jack, how do I use this thing?!" I squealed, excitedly. Jack hopped up to help me.

"You turn this knob to select which one you want, then you press this button to start it," He explained. I followed his instructions and watched the machine grab the record and put it on that spinning thing before it dropped the needle. I grinned ear to ear as sweet music filled the air.

~Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long And wouldn't it be nice to live together In the kind of world where we belong?~

"What's this one called?" Jack asked over the notes.

"Wouldn't it be nice, by The Beach Boys! It's one of my favorites!" I was surprised that it was here considering Dean's bias when it came to music.

~You know it's gonna make it that much better When we can say goodnight and stay together~

"I dare you to sing along, Jack-Jack." I grinned and nudged his shoulder.

"No thank you," He said, shaking his head with a pleasant smile.

~Wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up In the morning when the day is new? And after having spent the day together Hold each other close the whole night through~

"Awww! Why not?"

"I don't know the words." He shrugged.

~Happy times together we've been spending I wish that every kiss was never ending Oh, wouldn't it be nice?~

"Fine!" I sighed in over dramatic disappointment, flopping onto one of the recliners. "But that excuse is only gonna work once!"

Jack chuckled, leaning his arms on the back of the recliner to look down at me. "I guess I better come up with more excuses then!"

~Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray It might come true Baby, then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do Oh, we could be married (oh, we could be married) And then we'd be happy (and then we'd be happy) Oh, wouldn't it be nice?~

"You can't evade me forever," I declared, kicking my feet back and forth to the beat of the song.

"True," Jack agreed, nodding. "But I can try."

"And try you will, young Skywalker," I said.

"I like Star Wars!" Jack noted, suddenly seeming to shift from being older than me to younger by about five years. It was an odd thing to watch.

"Who doesn't?"

~Goodnight, my baby Sleep tight, my baby Goodnight, my baby Sleep tight, my baby~

The music faded away but I maintained eye contact with Jack in a spontaneous staring contest. Why? Because, naturally the first one to break was a weakling and I was not going to take that title on my first day with these people.

"Is this a staring contest?" Jack asked, tilting his head a bit. He didn't blink.

"Indeed. We maintained eye contact for longer than twenty-eight seconds, so it's obligatory," You replied, still refusing to blink.

"I did not know that those were the rules," Jack said, sounding somewhat confused.

"Well, they're not. That's just how my family always played." You were quick to clear your throat and rid your tone of any sadness that slipped past your defenses.

"Oh, I see."

"I take it you two are having fun."

"Agh!" I shot up from my reclined position in shock and whipped to the doorway where I took in the sight of Castiel standing just outside the door frame, the ghost of a smile visible on his otherwise expressionless face. How long had he been watching? Embarrassment warmed my cheeks and I hoped we hadn't looked like idiots.

"Hey Cas! I don't know about Jack, but I'm having the time of my life!" I said. Then I turned to Jack. "Whattdya' say, buddy? Am I torturing you?"

"I've been tortured before, this isn't anything close to what that was like! Don't worry, Marty. You're a lot of fun." He stated, matter-of-factly. My eyes went wide and I tilted my head at him. I mean, what was I even supposed to say to something like that? "Oh, and you I won the staring contest." I found myself nodding slowly.

"Well, good for you. And that's got to be the weirdest complement I think I've ever gotten, but I'll take it." Jack grinned at me in his lopsided way and I turned my attention back to the other angel in the room. "Any particular reason for this visit or were ya just passing?"

"Sam asked me to check up on you two," Cas answered.

"Alright. Well, I was just about to ask Jack to help me find my way back to my room."

Cas simply nodded and walked off.

"So, why do you like that song so much?" Jack inquired as we strode back through the endless identical hallways.

"It was in one of my mom's favorite movies so she was always singing it. I love the tune as well and sometimes, when I'm sad, the words make me feel better," I answered. Jack frowned.

"I don't understand song lyrics. They never make sense to me."

"Would you like me to explain it to you?"

"Yes." Jack nodded and once again gave me all his attention.

"So, that song is about two young people who feel like they're living their lives stuck in place. There's so much they want to do but everybody says they're just to young to do it. They feel like they've outgrown the stage of life that they're in and they just want to move on. By being stuck where they are, they're afraid they'll miss their opportunity for happiness. So they dream about a day when they'll finally be free to do whatever they want, even if they that day may never come around." My thoughtful tone surprised me.

I hadn't meant to put so much of my own emotion into my explanation of the lyrics. If I kept on like this, the hunters would figure me out in no time. But there was just something about Jack, about the way he listened to my every word, that made me want to tell him everything about everything. I was weak around him. He made me let my guard down. I'd have to learn how to keep it up if I wanted to survive.

"Do you feel stuck sometimes?" Jack asked. His tone was sincere but his expression gave me no clues a s to what he was hoping to learn from his question. I nodded.

"I used to feel like I was living a loop, like every day was the same. It sucked." I rolled my eyes and shoved him playfully. "But then four weirdos in an Impala showed up and my life is finally moving again!"

~With every small disaster I'll let the waters still Take me away to someplace real

Cause' they say home is where your heart is set in stone Its where you go when you're alone Its where you go to rest your bones Its not just where you lay your head Its not just where you make your bed As long as we're together does it matter where we go?~

Lyrics from: Home by Jasmine Thompson

#jack kline x oc #jack kline #jack kline fanfiction #jack kline x reader #spn #spn fanfiction #superntural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #alexander calvert #alex calvert #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #jack is baby #the writing gets better #jack kline humor #jack kline fluff #fluff #my name is cas and i write stuff #fanfic #thanks for reading #have a nice day #misha collins