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ginoeh · 4 months

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Shipper Tag Game

I was tagged by the lovely @tj-dragonblade , thank you!

What ship were you completely obsessed with as a teenager, but now you don’t care about anymore?

As a teenager... well, that was quite a while ago lol. I suppose that would have been Harry/Draco. First fandom, first queer pairing, first smut stories. I was such a sweet sweet summer child XD The early 00s were wild

Which ship would you consider your first one?

Soooo. Funny story. Way back when, I got into fanfiction via fanfiction.net. You know how their filter system is bad/non-existent? Yeah. Little me, on her first outing to ffnet, didn’t know how to operate the character settings. I clicked on the first story on the top of the first page of the HP section. It was a Snape/Hermione star-crossed lover deal. It flash-fried my brain, taught me content curation in a crash course and incidentially made me partial to the ship for quite a few years...

Your first fanfic was about which couple?

See above lol. I will never ever forget the experience. I tried to find that story later for downloading (like an ugly beloved keepsake ig lol) but never managed.

If you mean fanfic I've written: it was gen.

Do you remember the first couple you saw fan art of?

Kakashi/Obito

Have you ever gotten into ship discourse?

Nope. Scraped by a few times since I entered the tumblr bubble but managed to stay out of it. I don’t get the point. It's freaking fictional characters in fictional worlds. Go touch grass or something instead... (but you will make me fucking mad if you try to drag me into these things with wild ad hom accusations based on what i ship or dont ship)

Did you used to have a NOTP or have one currently?

No, not really. It's only ever preferences. There are some I dislike due to my own hc/inability to suspend my disbelief but I wouldn’t call them NOTPs. I just don’t read them.

Who were the last couple in the last fanfic you read?

Dreamling

Currently, do you have any OTPs?

I actually dislike the term OTP. It's a scale of preferences for me. There are few (read: none) fav characters that I can only see with one love interest (and anyway, sometimes i do prefer plot over love story. wild take i know) and the more time I spend in a fandom the more I diversify.

Is there any couple that, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting into?

I don’t get this question, sorry. If I'm interested, I'll search it out. Even if the fandom is old. AO3 is an archive for exactly that reason.

Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they’re kind of interesting?

Not that I can think of, at the moment!

Do you have any ship that, in the past, would have been considered normal but now you would be cancelled over?

Probably? I'm not clear on what all one is getting cancelled over this week/month/year by which group of 'concerend bystanders'. I suppose I might get cancelled for the mentioned Hermione/Snape?

What is your favourite crack ship?

I'm so glad you asked. It's clearly Dream/Helm (thank you for that @writing-for-life ) Or Gollum/The One Ring (thanks go to Neil himself here). Or - actually, never mind lol.

What is the couple you read the most fanfics about?

At the moment it's Dreamling. But I cycle through fandoms/pairings periodically...(btw im looking for more Johanna/Death? If anyone could point me in the right direction?)

What do most of your ships have in common?

At least one character has a dark/unknown/violent/tragic past (they can be victim or perpetrator!!! I'm all for character development babey)

What do you absolutely hate in a ship?

I don’t hate ships? As I said above. Possibly the reduction on 'I can fix him/her' or 'my love will save him/her from depression/"the darkness"/etc.' but that is mostly a matter of the author's style of crafting characterization and plot and has nothing to do with the ship itself.

I'm tagging @bazzybelle , @seiya-starsniper , @writing-for-life if you want to or maybe just point me towards your post if you've done it already?

#ginoeh talks #tag games

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sheerfreesia007 · 4 years

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I’m Better

Title: I’m Better

Fandom: American Assassin

Pairing: Mitch Rapp x Reader

Author: @sheerfreesia007

Words: 1,928

Warnings: Cursing, Vibrator, Masturbation, Sex

Permanent Tag List: @paintballkid711, @fioccodineveautunnale, @phoenixhalliwell, @synystersilenceinblacknwhite

Author Notes: This was inspired by the prompt “I could make you feel better than that pathetic toy.” It seemed like just the thing Mitch would say. Also another Mitch fic! I’m loving writing this man, he’s so yummy. Enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

Also @writingsbychlo I know I wrote down that I had a series for Mitchtober planned (and I still do) but this just came to me and it’s in Mitchtober. So enjoy!

Gif Credit: Google

You smiled around the table at the ladies who had commandeered your night. It had been after work when you had gotten the phone call from Gem, she had only told you to dress up nice and pretty since her the girls were taking you out for your birthday. She had said that since Mitch had gone away on a business trip that she and your group of gal pals would keep you entertained for the night so that you didn’t miss him too much. And thankfully they had done a great job at keeping him from your mind.

But it was coming to the end of the evening and while you had had a wonderful time with all of them, having dinner and drinks and just being able to catch up with what you had missed during the week, you knew that once you left your group you would be immediately missing Mitch. Still smiling at your friends you laughed brightly as Bubbles leaned into Flames laughing at something Lizard had joked about. Scrubs sat next to you smirking softly at their antics as Gem sat on your otherside shaking her head amused at all of them.

“So Siren, when does the missing boyfriend return from his work trip?” Flames asked as she helped bubbles get situated back in her seat. You saw Gem shoot her glare out of the side of your eyes and you smiled warmly at Flames before placing a reassuring hand on Gem’s.

“He’s supposed to be back tomorrow night. He hasn’t checked in yet tonight so I don’t know if he’ll be delayed or not.” you responded with an easy.

“Excited to see him?” Scrubs asked knowingly and you grinned sheepishly as you ducked your head.

“That obvious?” you quipped back and laughter rang out around the whole table.

“Only a little.” Lizard quipped back as she held up her index finger and thumb up together, you grinned as you shrugged.

“He’s been gone longer this time so yeah it sucks but it’s his career. As long as he comes home soon I won’t hold it against him.” you said sassily and the girls all burst out in knowing laughter.

“There’s our girl.” Flames cheered before sending you a wink and you laughed happily.

You easily slid your key into the lock and quickly slipped into the apartment shutting the door and hurriedly moving to the alarm system that Mitch had insisted on getting. He had said he’d feel a lot better while he was away with the alarm system, since it was hooked up to send notifications to his phone in case anything ever happened to you while he was gone. Disarming it and resetting it you set your keys in the little key bowl in your hallway before slipping your heels off your feet and storing them under the table.

Padding down the hallway you sighed softly as you saw your empty living room. You rubbed a hand up and down your arm slowly and softly as your eyes darted around the silent apartment. An anxious feeling began to well inside of you and you sighed again, whenever Mitch was gone your worry and anxiety always reared their ugly heads. Knowing that you would have to do something to quell this feeling you let a smirk slip slowly onto your lips as you thought of one way to tame this feeling.

The excitement quickly rose in you as you made your way to your bedroom. Your hands were already pulling down your zipper before it guided the material down your body easily. Letting it pool in a puddle of fabric on the floor you stepped out quickly not bothering to pick it up as you made your way over to the end table on your side of the bed. Opening the drawer you smiled as you saw the bright teal color of your vibrator.

You slid the covers on your bed back and slipped your panties off your body quickly, you didn't have to worry about a bra thankfully since the dress had one built in. You could feel the excitement start to course through you at the prospect getting a release after you had been without since Mitch left. Your breaths were coming in soft pants and your heart rate was kicking up in your chest.

Slipping into the bed you got yourself situated on the pillows before you pulled out your vibrator. Pressing the power button on the device it began to vibrate in your hand making you shiver in anticipation. You shifted on the bed in delight and laid back on the pillows.

You started first at your chest, dragging the vibrator along the skin by your collarbones softly letting the vibrating device graze along your body. You dragged it farther down your chest teasing yourself as it vibrated along the tops of your breasts. Your mind began to wander thinking of Mitch and what his fingers would feel like as they trailed down your body.

Mitch was a man who liked control, he liked being the dominant one in the relationship and you were more than happy to give him that control. While Mitch was dominant he knew how to make you feel good and he took pride in giving you pleasure before he even took his own. He would make you come at least twice before he even thought of taking his own release. He always made sure you were taken care of first.

So as you lay there in bed dragging the vibrator along your body teasingly you thought of Mitch and those sinful long fingers of his as they would trail along your body. When you circled one of your nipples with the vibrator your body arched up off the bed in pleasure.

“Oh shit.” you gasped out softly as the vibration circled your nipple and shot arousal straight to your core. Your body fell back against the bed but continued to jerk in pleasure as you circled the vibrator around your nipple again and again. Trailing it along to your other nipple made your chest heave with pleasure and arousal. Your other nipple was already pulled tight into a peak as arousal heated your blood. When the vibrator circles lightly around it once you hissed in pleasure.

You don’t take long on that nipple as the anticipation of where you actually want the vibrator is too much for you and you’re growing impatient. Quickly you’re dragging the vibrator down your body and over your stomach. It’s as you’re dragging it along your outer lips and moaning loudly that you hear a creak in the hallway. You stop for a second but when you don’t hear anything else you continue with your self torture. The vibration is causing your body to begin to shake with it’s arousal and you arc up off the bed again. “Fuck, Mitch.” you moan out loudly as you part your lips with the head of the vibrator.

“I could make you feel better than that pathetic toy.” says a deep raspy voice and you’re jerking with surprise and shock at the sound. Your heart is racing and not because of arousal but pure on fear now. You fling the vibrator at the offender standing in your doorway with a shriek as you scramble up the bed yanking the covers over your naked body. The deep baritone that rings out in laughter slightly calms you down as you focus on your boyfriend Mitch.

“Fuck I need to put a bell around your fucking neck.” you gasp out as your chest heaves under the blanket you have clutched to your body. Mitch laughs even louder as he bends over to pick up the still vibrating device and saunters over to you. He sits on the bed and turns off the vibrator before placing it on the bedside table. His other hand comes up and lands on your knee as he smirks over at you. “You scared me half to death you idiot.” you gasp out softly and he chuckles softly before shaking his head.

“So not a good birthday surprise?” he asks teasingly and you scowl over at him which makes me laugh harder. “How can I make it up to you?” he asks letting his voice drop into a sultry tone. He’s slowly tugging the blanket from your grasp and leaning over you on the bed smirking.

“Why don’t you show me how much better you are than that pathetic toy?” you suggest and he grins wickedly down at you.

“Gladly birthday princess.” he coos at you before pressing a hard kiss to your lips. It takes Mitch no time to have you gasping and panting once again with arousal. His lips are trailing down your stomach and your hands are carding through his hair. You can see his amber eyes just taking you in and you feel the heat within start to scorch your insides.

“Mitch, please.” you moan out and he looks up at you. “I need you inside me. It’s been too long.” Mitch is moving instantly, his body is sliding up yours as his eager hands are ridding himself of his black shirt and your hands are quickly undoing the belt around his waist. He doesn’t completely remove his jeans, just slides them down far enough to release his hard cock.

“I’ll go slower next time.” he promises to you as he thrusts in sharply. Your back arches underneath him and your hands are grasping at his back as a high pitched moan escapes your throat. Mitch’s lips are pressing wet sucking kisses into your neck leaving marks all along it. It’s been about two weeks since you’ve been with him and Mitch stills so that your body can acclimate itself to his.

When your walls flutter around him he begins to slide in and out slowly. The air is punched out of your lungs with each thrust in and you’re thrashing your head as pleasure and lust consume you. Your nails are raking down his back and you hear him groan above you loudly and deeply. “Fuck princess, just like that.” he grunts out softly to you.

The two of you are in a daze as your reunion after so long starts to consume and raze around you. Your breaths are short and gasping while his are silent sucks of air through his nose. Suddenly he shifts slightly and thrusts deep and your mouth drops open in a silent scream. Stars are dancing in your vision and you can feel yourself starting to lose it. Mitch hits that spot again and your whole body arcs up as your walls clamp down around him.

“Mitch!” comes your loud wail and he responds in grunts as he finds his own release in your pleasure.

It takes the two of you a few moments to come down from your cosmic high and Mitch is falling to the side of your body pulling you with him so that he’s still embedded inside you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer while he nuzzles into your neck kissing you softly.

“Happy Birthday Princess.” he whispers to you and your smile lights up the room making him smile softly down at you.

“Thanks honey. I missed you.” you coo at him and he nuzzles further into your neck.

“Missed you too.” he responds before the two of you fall asleep wrapped up in each other and pressed close together not bothering with moving too far away.

#my writing #american assassin #mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp #thirsty thursday #mitchtober

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ixeliema · 5 years

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Okay this is going to be pretty personal and potentially triggering so I'm leaving that here at the top. I'm going to be discussing depression and self harm here and I will tag accordingly. I will not be specific or speak of it in detail because a lot of people read posts like these at their lowest points and it does nothing but hurt already very troubled people to read.

These bubbles are covering an injury I inflicted upon myself at work today after my manager called me in to a meeting with him to speak about the amount of missed days of work I'd taken in the last two-three weeks.

How it happened doesn't matter. The only context you need for it is that I missed four days due to a contagious illness and one day due to a stomach bug that had me physically unable to leave the bathroom. I work long hours and in my store's home department. I work hard and never do things 80% or lower at work and it's exhausting at times.

Well...yesterday I had a panic attack that lasted for almost four hours and knew I couldn't work in this state. I had been curling into a ball, screaming, sobbing, (tw) pulling my hair.

I called in and my manager told me we'd need to talk about my missed days. Fine. I accept that. Today I dreaded the inevitable call back and when it happened he told me that two of my customers had filed complaints on me within two days last week.

One I will admit is justified. He was talking about gun issues and complaining that retail stores should sell guns, meanwhile I am from a college that was shot up and I am fucking terrified of guns. I don't mind not selling them. Especially in light of El Paso recently.

The other was a lady who noticed I was sweaty and tired after having to manually enter her discounts for about 25 apparel items because her digital coupon wasn't ringing right and it was a system issue. I had an injury between my fingers at the time and all the typing to fix the prices was pulling apart my scab and I had begun to bleed through my bandage. At the end of the transaction, she made eye contact with me and asked "I'm sorry...are you IRRITATED with me?" I don't remember exactly what I said but I said something like "no ma'am I'm bleeding". Well apparently 'no' means I'm still a bitch who needed reported to her manager.

The first...fine. I was out of line there. I shouldn't have let him goad me on. But the second pisses me off. Not happy because three strikes on my record is cause for termination due to disregard for customer satisfaction. This sucks a lot. But then my manager talks about my missed days and why they happened. I mentioned my sicknesses and cited a literal rule (if you are contagious or having issues with bodily fluids don't come in" at him. Yesterday I told him my situation. I was unable to breathe. See. Anything. I cited my mental illness and told him it was very bad yesterday. He kind of brushed me off. (Which in itself fucking infuriates me bc mental health isn't a goddamn joke!)

Then he told me to evaluate myself and whether or not this job is right for me. I also have a physical injury and I require a brace. Even with it sometimes I have sore days and pain that I can't control due to walking about four to five miles a day at work. It sucks but with the brace I can survive. I need this job to live after all, and I don't mind the coworkers or the job itself. It just sucks when I'm working 48 hours in a row with a lot of mental and physical barriers to my success.

He told me to my face that if I didn't feel I was capable of doing the job to quit. And then he told me he needed someone "more reliable" for the position because of the business' needs.

I kind of broke at that point. And I blacked out into a relapse of my self harm after the meeting was through. I pride myself on two things: my sense of humor even in dark times (comes with the territory of mental illness), and the fact that I strive to be reliable. My manager telling me to my face that I wasn't reliable broke me.

See I would be more understanding if he hadn't just told me that five of my six missed days were perfectly acceptable. But after he learned of the last one amd why he kind of shifted gears. And I hated it very much.

He's worked for x corporation nearly 20 years and no one will question his authority. He works hard and is pretty good with his workers. Honestly he's a little sexist and clearly doesn't think mental illnesses are a big deal, but he's good at what he does. So hearing an authority figure (the type of person I've learned to fear because I'm never good enough) tells me I'm not one of the qualities I fucking FIGHT for...I broke.

But this story isn't why I wanted to post it. Yeah I could rant about the rude manager and the customers and that dumb "customer is always right" mentality (which they could prove wrong if they just looked up the security footage for the rude lady!)

No I'm here because when I got home from working 2-11...bordering tears and panic all day and sweatier than anyone living in Arizona right now...I hopped in the bath for a soak and to give myself time to heal from the long arduous day.

My mind has been full of intrusive thoughts about my worth and how I broke my streak of being clean from self harm and how that makes me a coward. That kind of joyous stuff.

I sat up to get my phone to text my friend and saw that my knee (where my injury is) was covered in bubbles.

I don't know why...but that means a lot to me right now. Like...I'm taking care of myself after probably the worst day I've had since my dad died. I'm taking time to heal. I'm trying to pick up the pieces of my soul after a long and painful day. And it felt like for a moment, the universe understood that looking at my wound hurt me as much as the wound itself hurt. It wanted me to not dwell on it.

Obviously this isn't a magic "I'm no longer depressed" moment but for me, seeing the bubbles...a sign (at least to me) of trying to take care of myself masking the pain of my depression and anxiety.

Today has been a very tough day for me with a lot of manic episodes and a lot of depressive ones, and though I can wear the face that I'm okay...it cracked a lot today and I let my ugly side seep out. And seeing the bubbles covering my wound I deadass cried about it, y'all.

This tells me that even on your worst days, taking care of yourself and trying to find time to recover can help you to heal. And I wanted to post this because I think this story might help someone. Even just one person. Maybe even just myself someday when out of the blue I check my (very small) tag for original posts.

The TLDR of this is that this occurence kind of showed me that taking care of yourself...even in tiny, seemingly insignificant ways, can really help you to not dwell on pain as much.

And before someone hijacks this and says this won't apply to everyone...I know. But I hope someone sees this image of bubbles on a goddamn kneecap and thinks to themselves that they ought to take better care of themselves after a bad day. After a relapse. After feeling so defeated you considered suicide. Consider healing. Consider trying to help yourself, even just in one small way.

That's about all I have to say other than "fuck I work the next three days and I'm not stoked to go fake a smile as a cashier for 27 more hours even if I'm being paid"

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feminarrie · 5 years

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under the same moon - two

a/n: first, thank you so so much for all the positive feedback i’ve received for the prologue and first chapter! it really means a lot! second, thank you for being so patient for this next chapter! if the next few weeks are kinder to me, i should be establishing a consistent posting schedule!

if you’d like to be added to the tag list, send me an ask!

Hanna’s dancing around her living room, microfiber cloth in hand, as she attempts to clean up her apartment. Her voice carries over the sound of Cyndi Lauper’s “Girl’s Just Wanna Have Fun” and she hopes that her neighbors don’t mind the full-on performance that she is putting on because she has no intention of toning it down.

Not when Imogen is less than an hour away from Northridge.

She had received the text message nearly three hours ago, but the excitement hadn’t dwindled since then. In fact, as the clock on the stove neared closer and closer to three in the afternoon, Hanna could feel the anticipation rising. It had erased any residual jet lag that Hanna had felt and replaced it with an exuberant amount of energy.

Hanna had managed to do the food shopping, tidy up her room, and was very close to having the entire apartment spotless before Imogen walked through the door. All that was left to do was a quick dusting of the the shelves, bookcases, and entertainment system that occupied the small space. Which took much longer than expected because Hanna is only just finished wiping down the storage space beneath their coffee table when Imogen walks in.

“Skeeter!” Imogen exclaims, kicking the door shut behind her and disregarding all of the bags she had brought with her.

Hanna’s chocolate irises are set alight when she hears the voice of her best friend behind her. She swivels to see her and just barely manages to stabilize her footing before she’s bounding toward her petite best friend. At just a quarter of an inch past five and five inches, Hanna is hardly tall. But, she dwarfs Imogen, who stands at only five feet tall.

“Imogen!” Hanna squeals, wrapping her arms around Imogen’s shoulders and squeezing tightly.

They stay like that for a moment, each laughing and squeaking with excitement. Hanna is the first to step back from the embrace and allows herself to take in Imogen’s appearance. She pays little attention to what Imogen is actually wearing, but does take in the way her skin glows with the sun and relaxation that she managed to get on her week long cruise. Mostly, she takes in the smile on Imogen’s face that mirrors the excitement and relief on her own.

“You look so good!” Hanna says, pulling her back in for a hug before releasing Imogen completely. “How was the cruise!?”

Imogen dives into the details of her Caribbean cruise. She tells Hanna about the cute lifeguard that had made eyes at her for almost the entire trip. Imogen goes into deeper detail about the family drama that happened before the ship had even set off.

“It was all over a bed, Hanna. Marcus still has a black eye!” Imogen groans, referring to how her younger brother Samuel had punched Marcus, the youngest, almost as soon as they had gotten into the room.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Hanna says with a shrug.

In being friend with Imogen for three years and living with her for two of them, she’s met her entire family on several occasions. Samuel and Marcus were always at each others’ throats. She’s seen them fight over who got the last slice of pizza that Hanna had bought as thank you to Imogen’s family for helping them move in. So, she really isn’t surprised over the scuffle they had.

“Enough about me, though.” Imogen interjects, taking a seat on Hanna’s bed after they’d wandered back from the kitchen. “How was London?”

Hanna had made them a glass of sangria each when she realized that the clock had struck five. After all, having Imogen back in their apartment was a cause for celebration.

She sits on the desk beanbag that sits in the corner of her room, just below the windowsill and beside a stack of her favorite books to reread. And the cherry red liquid esloshes around in its short stemmed glass, very nearly spilling, but Hanna manages to balance it before so much as a drop falls.

“Really good.” Hanna admits, moving swiftly on to list all of the history she had learned while exploring different landmarks.

Did you know that Charles Dickens used to carry around a compass to ensure that he slept facing north because he thought it would improve his writing? Hanna didn’t either, but the fun fact is forever in her arsenal should someone ask.

Imogen can tell that Hanna is holding something back though. It is evident in the way she chews at a hangnail at the corner of her thumb, a nervous habit that Hanna worked really hard to shake. But, it’s rearing its ugly head because she’s nervous about verbalizing all that has gone on since she had met Niall. As if speaking it out loud would have each syllable and hopeful inflection dropping and puncturing the little bubble she had created around herself.

“Are you going to tell me what’s on your mind or am I going to have to drag it out of you, Skeeter?” Imogen is raising a polished brow at her.

Hanna looks at her from over the brim of her glass as she takes a sip of the sweet cocktail, her brown eyes catching the light of the setting sun and the golden light enriches the color. She swallows before letting out a sigh. There’s absolutely no way she can keep a secret from Imogen.

“I sorta met a guy while I was in London, I guess?” Hanna shrugs, as if the most basic detail wasn’t true. “Remember Ira from freshman year?” She asks, waiting for Imogen’s response.

“She lived down the hall freshman year, right?” Imogen asks, raising her glass to her lips and taking an audible sip of her drink.

“Yeah,” Hanna confirms. “Well, we went out one of our last nights there. And I’m not sure how we ended up at some fish and chip shop, but we did.” She pauses for a moment, digging for her phone in the pocket of her shorts. “There was this guy there with his group of friends.”

She tosses Imogen her phone once she’s opened up Niall’s instagram page. Imogen scrolls through his profile while Hanna continues her story of that night. She omits the personal details that Niall had shared with her, but continued to delve into just how well they had gotten along. And told her about Niall’s insistence to drive her and Ira home because he didn’t want her wasting the remainder of her money on a taxi.

“So…” Imogen trails off, wondering why Hanna still looked as though she had something else to say.

“So,” Hanna begins, chewing on her lower lip and her eyes shift from Imogen, to the left wall, and the ceiling before landing back on her again. “We’ve spoken every single day. Texts and Skype calls. I almost fell asleep with him on video two days ago.”

. . . . . . . . . . .

Her eyes were very nearly bloodshot, red and pink veins twisting and intertwining across the white of her eyes. It was close to nine in the morning for Niall, who had very evidently still been asleep when she called him. She only realized that she had called on Niall’s only day off from work when he’s groggy and mumbling a “‘lo?” when he answered.

“Sorry for calling so early. And on your day off.” Hanna had mumbled, cheek pressed to her pillow as she rolls to her left side.

Niall wiped some sleep away from his tear duct and long eyelashes were soon fluttering as he opened his eyes. He blinked sleepily at Hanna, his vision still slightly blurred.

“No, no. Don’t be sorry.” He yawned, reaching behind the camera of his phone to grab his glasses. “S’why I keep myself logged in, love.”

And Hanna’s heart melted a little at that. The fact that he had kept himself active on the application for instances such as that was far too sweet of someone she had met only a few weeks prior. He didn’t owe her any such kindness, even with how close they were becoming. Interrupting someone’s day off of work—before it’s even begun—because she couldn’t sleep hardly seemed fair. But, with a foggy mind and the loud thunder that seemed to be hovering just above her part of town, she really didn’t feel comfortable sleeping alone.

Normally, her apartment is at least occupied by Imogen. Who typically wakes up when she hears the claps of thunder and shuffles into Hanna’s room to make sure she’s alright. Other times, Tyler and Sonam drag her into the living room to occupy her until the storm begins to migrate or dissipate.

“Remember when I told you I was an absolute baby about thunderstorms?” She asked, watching as Niall unfolds the arms of his glasses and perches the bridge of them on his nose.

It had been Niall’s turn for his heart to soften. He did recall her talking about how scared she was of thunder—not the rain that it brought though, she loved the rain—when she was on his lap at his apartment. He had thought that maybe it was an exaggeration, but he watched her jump with a particularly bright flash of lighting lights up her room and the crash of thunder that follows soon after. And he shouldn’t have been endeared, but he was. Desperate to have her beside him too, if he was honest. He would’ve liked nothing more than to pull her into his lap and remind her that he’d keep her safe from the storm.

He supposed words would have to do.

“Oh, love. You’ll be alright.” Niall whispered, shifting to his side just like Hanna had. “Is there anything I can do to calm ya down?”

“Just talk to me.” Hanna admitted, pulling her covers to sit just below her chin.

“What would you want to talk about?” Niall asked, kind still in the process of reorienting itself after a particularly vivid dream.

Hanna hummed quietly to herself in thought before answering. “Do you have any plans for your day off?”

“Mm, Liam’s mum is meant to stop by later, I think.” Niall mumbled, pulling down the notification center of his phone to see that it was nine o’ clock on the dot. “She said she’d be ‘round at eleven. Still does his laundry, can you believe that?”

In the midst of pulling her comforter tighter around her, Hanna laughs. It was a short and sweet sound that Niall would’ve missed if he wasn’t so focused on her. It’s paired with a delicate smile that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Niall took it as a small personal victory for being a sufficient distraction from the frightening weather outside.

“I would kill to have my mom still do my laundry.” Hanna admitted, “I’d love to have her up here in general.”

She’d been open with Niall about how close she is with her parents, so it doesn’t shock him that Hanna wishes her mother were closer. But, he can’t miss the homesick look in her eye when she talks about it. It’s a melancholy look that brings a sad smile to her lips, but her eyes shine bright. As if she was remembering all of the best parts of being home when she’s many miles away.

“When’s the next break that you have?” Niall asked, moving to sit up in his bed.

“Not until March, for spring break.” Hanna said after a moment, caught up in the fact that she was moping about missing home when she’s still got more than a week to take a trip if she’d like.

But, Imogen would be back soon and she knows that everything will feel much more homey when she does. And Niall does make her feel more at home, if she was honest. It’s why she had called him in the first place.

He emanated a feeling of safety that was so strong that it stretched across land, sea, and phone screens.

“You could always go see her then?” Niall suggested, pressing his back to his headboard and stretching his free arm up.

He was completely bare on top, Hanna noticed. A thick dusting of hair on his chest and broad shoulders immediately captivated her attention.

She was glad that the room was dark and thus, her image was grainy. Or else Niall would have seen the mauve-toned blush rise to her cheeks. She wasn’t quite ready to have a conversation about how ridiculously attractive she found him.

“I usually do. Imogen usually tags along, too.” Hanna said, yawning shortly thereafter.

Niall noticed the fatigue start to settle in as Hanna continued to talk. Her voice becoming softer and some words were hard to understand when she begins to mumble almost incoherently. Her thoughts were half finished and she jumped from one topic to another without much notice.

“Hanna,” Niall spoke softly, trying to gain her attention. “Hanna, love.”

Hanna knuckled at her eyes, stopping herself in the middle of her sentence. She couldn’t recall exactly what she was talking about, but she knew that Niall had stopped her before she could finish. It settled a pout on her plump lower lip when she finally got her eyes to focus back on the screen.

“S’rude to interrupt people when they’re talking, Niall.” She grumbled, finally halting her movements when the inner corner of her eye becomes sore and red.

“Sorry, love.” Niall laughed. “But, I think it’s about time you get some sleep, yeah? You’ve been mumblin’ about invisible monsters or something like that for fifteen minutes.”

“The book, Niall. Invisible Monsters by Charles Palahniuk.” Hanna grumbled again, but she’s still nodding to Niall’s suggestion. “I think so, too.”

“Alright.” Niall agreed, happy that Hanna was finally comfortable enough to sleep. “Just text me whenever you’re up, love.”

Hanna nuzzled further into her deflating pillows, too exhausted to fluff them up before she fell asleep. And Niall was once again so endeared that he had to bite his lower lip to conceal the face splitting smile that threatens to consume his face.

“I will. Good morning, Niall.” Hanna whispered, eyes already closed and breathing beginning to even out. “Hope you have a good day.”

“Already started out perfectly.” Niall admitted, though he wasn’t entirely sure Hanna heard it because quite frankly, he’s convinced she was already asleep. “Goodnight, Hanna.”

. . . . . . . . . . .

Two more glasses of sangria and a hefty deliver from Musse later, Hanna and Imogen were sprawled out across their couch. Imogen’s head was in Hanna’s lap while an episode of Friends played in the background. Neither paid attention to it, though. It was simply their go-to show when they were in need of some type of background noise.

“So, do you like Niall?” Imogen asks, glancing from her phone to Hanna. “I mean, it’s fairly obvious that you do. I haven’t seen you this gone for a boy since you had thing for Brad from that history class you took sophomore year.”

Hanna rolls her eyes at Imogen which earns her a slap to the thigh.

“I don’t know why you’d ask me, then.” Hanna pokes her tongue out at Imogen, a blush rising to her cheeks.

“To hear you say it,” Imogen says with a shrug.

Hanna leans forward slightly, flicking Imogen on the nose before pressing her back against the couch again. It has Imogen’s nose scrunching up and her eyes narrowing at her best friend.

“You’re so annoying.” Hanna rolls her eyes once again. “I like him, though. A lot.”

Hanna’s no longer afraid to mutter the words now. Not after Niall had texted her some picture of his grumpy face when he’d come home to an empty flat. And continued to text her. She could practically hear him grumbling about how Liam hadn’t told him he’d be home for the next few day. Even asked about Imogen and how excited she was to haver her back.

The happy bubble that surrounded her and Niall seems to be much stronger than she had thought. She still feels weightless and buzzing whenever Niall’s name lights up her screen. She still has to bite her lip when she texts him back, for fear of looking like an absolute weirdo, grinning down at her phone.

“Are you going to tell him?” Imogen pushes because she knows how Hanna is.

The question is valid. But, Hanna isn’t really sure if she’s willing to be vulnerable enough to share her feelings (even though she’s told him things even Imogen doesn’t know). Because being that vulnerable, with someone so far away, is scary. Downright petrifying, if she allows herself to be honest.

But, Hanna can’t shake the feeling that Niall is meant to be in her life. She can feel it with every muscle, bone, follicle, and fiber within her. And it only seems to strengthen when his eyes dance across her face and hang on her every word during their almost nightly video calls.

“I don’t know.” Hanna is truthful in her response. “I don’t know.”

feedback? | series masterlist

#my writing #under the same moon #utsm: update #niall horan x ofc #niall x ofc #niall horan x oc #niall x oc #niall horan fic #niall horan series #niall horan fanfic #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #1dff #1dff update #1d fanfic #1d fan fiction

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supernatural-squadd · 7 years

Text

Destructive Family

This is part five to the Winchester Sister Imagine series I’m writing

Read part one here

Read part two here

Read part three here

Read part four here

Warnings: Language, Angst, Don't cry...

A/N: PLEASE READ THIS FIRST! The parts in italics is ‘other’ side of the reader speaking to herself. Bold is the "normal" side and italics is "crazy" side.

This series tag list: @justacinnamonroll , @ally-miller16 , @afanofmanystuffs @crazynerdandproud , @storyofawinchester, @crazynerdandproud , @sesshomaru-lover , @prettyboy-mgg ,

Forever tag list: @Freaksforthewin , @thewinhunter, @cambriacaneatnoodles, @brokennoone , @youtubehelpsmesurvive , @chrisevansthedoritobastard , @winchesters-favorite-girl , @we-know-a-little-about-a-lot

If you want to be added to any of my taglists (I even have them for specific characters), just let me know.

Both you and Sam walked into the library, your arms were crossed and your head hung low. A part of you was scratching at your skin, begging to be let out for a little joy ride. And you wanted to give in. God, how you wanted to. Every part of you wanted to just let loose- be yourself. But there was that one, tiny little part of you, that refused to say 'fuck it' and be yourself. Without meds you were a loon, but on your meds? It was like you became a textbook psychopathic, homicidal maniac. Good news was you were only like this the first month or two of adjusting to your meds. Bad news was there was no way to keep you calm or rational for that matter during this time.

Awh come on, a little fun never hurt anybody. Right?

No, I won't hurt them...

Oh, you mean like John hurt you? Left you locked up in that shit hole? Threw you out but kept those two?

That wasn't their fault, they love me.

Darling, who could love you? You're out of your mind. Don't you remember what hushed words we whispered to each other? Say it with me now-

All you have is yourself.

Good girl.

"I can't do this, Sam. It's getting worse-," holding your hands together, you flopped your body to the other side of the wall, hiding yourself from Dean who was confused as to what was happening.

"Just breathe, he'll understand," he was facing you now, but your eyes were shut tight. Everything was so fuzzy to you, like he was speaking from a distance.

Dean must've gotten up because his voice was right in front of you. "What's going on?" but you didn't- couldn't hear his voice.

Placing your hands over your bright red irritated ears, you crouched into a ball on the floor. All the while your eyes stayed shut.

"Don't touch me," the presence of one of the boys hands was hovering over your shoulder.

I'm here for you.

"Y/n, talk to us. What's going on? Sam, did she take something?"

I always have been

"No, she's been with me. It must be the meds,"

And I always will be.

"Meds? Those are supposed to help me, what do you mean 'meds'?"

No matter what.

*Boy's voices fade into background*

What do I do?

Don't hold back. I'll never leave you if you let me in.

"Stop," a near silent word was uttered from your lips.

"What?" both of them were shocked, but it was Dean who spoke. "Y/n?"

Your head buried itself deeper into your knees which were still being held high to your chest. "Why did you have to *pop* the little bubble I had?" your head began to lift up slowly, two horrified looks were being directed towards you. "I was doing so damn well. Being a normie- and you had to go and fuck it up!"

"Y/n, I didn't know how you reacted to them. I would've never, never done anything like that if I knew. I messed up and-" a very sympathetic Dean was speaking in a broken tone.

"I don't want to hear it. You're a dick. You think you know what's best for me- for everybody because you have this itch to be a damn hero constantly. Now you're stuck with me. What was that you said? You wanted me: The good, bad, ugly, and crazy. Something like that right?" both of them were standing up, looking down at your balled up body as your eyes burned a hole directly into your oldest brother.

Something in you set off, like a rocket with no destination. Sam reached down to place a hand on your shoulder...and the memories hit.

*Teenage Flashback*

The cold leather from the chair caused goose bumps to travel all down your neck and to your arms which were being held down tightly by two metal cuffs linked to the side of the chair. Two cold hands reached down and gripped the sides of your face.

"I do enjoy these moments with you, Y/n," the left hand gripped your chin violently, the right reached for the metal tool on the table you dreaded most of all.

The tear threatening to escape had finally broken free.

*Current Time*

Grabbing Sam's hand that was reaching down to comfort you, your free hand reached on the small table next to you and grabbed hold of the pen. It all happened so quickly. The pen clicking. Driving it into his arm. Quickly, he withdrew his reach, but by now you were on your feet, running for the door. Only thing that was in your mind was getting out, making out the past events and the present was harder than it seemed. Just before you reached the stairs to run upward to your escape, two strong arms wrapped around you tightly.

A loud scream came from you as your legs pulled up and began kicking violently, resting all of your weight in what had to be Cas's arms. Neither of his arms could get free, they were preoccupied making sure you didn't hurt yourself or anybody else. Words you couldn't make out were whispered in your ear- and you were out cold.

Hours later, your eyes finally opened. A familiar room was holding you inside of it. But you were on the opposite side of how things usually were. In the middle of the room, sat a chair, which you were chained to by metal chains. Looking down, your feet were greeted by a red painted devils trap that had been there long ago.

"You're not a demon, we know that. But there wasn't anywhere else safe for us to put you. Try to understand," three faces sat in front of you, Dean was speaking. Belonging to the three men you called your brothers and your best friend.

"Try and understand what? That I'm being chained up like a dog in a cage? First you force pills into my system, and then you do this," you held up your chained hands at the last part. "Dick move, guys. Dick. Move." the look on your face held something like this: pissed off, a small sarcastic happy smile, maybe a hint of murderous thoughts.

"We just want to help you," Sam sat next to Dean, talking calmly, his elbows resting on his thighs.

"Oh yeah," another raising of your cuffed hands. "great fucking job helping me. Not to mention my mind was violated by an angel. By the way," you flipped a middle finger in Cas's direction, giggling when both of your brothers rolled their eyes.

"Okay, knock it off. We know you've got issues, but don't go rubbing the crazy on all of us, there's a limit to tolerance. We're helping you, accept it," once again, your asshole brother was speaking up and making your blood boil with every word he said.

"Accept it? I don't think you know what goes on inside my head, so stop acting like you do and let me be me. In case you haven't figured it out by now, every action you've taken to 'help me' only made thing worse. I was doing good- hell I was doing great. Living like I should've been for my entire life. You're the one who wanted me in your life. You're the one who took me in and decided to make me a part of the family..." furrowed brows rested on your forehead while tears rested on your cheeks. Some dropping violently to the floor, some laying perfectly still in a stream path of water from your eye to some destination on your cheek.

"Maybe that was the wrong choice to make. Maybe you needed more time to get fixed," he spoke like it was any normal conversation, like nothing was changing for him. Meanwhile your heart was dropping to the depths of the Titanic.

"Dean stop! Stop saying stuff you don't mean. You love her, I know you do, we all know you do," Sam spoke with rage in every word he said, every breath he inhaled and pushed out with a yelling force.

"No, Sammy, I don't...Dad had another kid and didn't tell us. He betrayed us- betrayed Mom. She's our sister, but she's not our family," he yelled right back at Sam, both of them ignoring a broken girl sitting in front of them.

"Betrayed us? Because he needed to feel something? Even if it was a one night stand? It's not like he helped make her and then stuck around for after she was born! He dumped her in the system, Dean! She didn't grow up in a castle!" neither you nor Cas spoke a word or uttered a syllable. Sam defended you, and you couldn't love him more for it...

"Then take me back," a broken voice came from your body, fountains poured out of your eyes.

"What?" Sam spoke directly to you, once again in his normal tone. His eyes showed hurt and concern.

"Take. Me. Back. I don't want to be your problem, I won't force you to keep me here if you hate me so much. So take me back, I wouldn't want to be a burden any longer than I already have been," the tears wouldn't stop pouring, your voice wouldn't stop breaking with every sound that came from your mouth.

"No, Y/n, you don't-" the last amazing thing in your life was speaking, Sam.

"Fine," Dean rose to his feet. "We're leaving in the morning,".

#spn #supernatural #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #winchester sister imagines #dean winchester #Sam Winchester

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