fartfacial

she/her request here

[tankhall]

post and delete…. never gets old

[honeyfartfacial]

How would we possibly feel about a dennis x reader where you two grew up together and started dating in your first year of college but he abruptly left you to go study medicine in Pittsburg without saying a word and left you to deal with all the religious trauma alone and being told that if you followed his footsteps your family would disown you but then your paths lowkey cross… I won’t say why… I’ve already said too much 😔😔 but Mary would we be opposed to this orrrr..?? Like it would majorly give Ethel Cain

[honeyfartfacial]

PENS ..? 2

summary: almost caught having a steamy makeout session with your older not-so-boyfriend boyfriend in the middle of the emergency department by a certain pretty Dr. Mohan, getting ushered out of the room to deal with a violent patient. Jack thinks he's doing what's best for you. (2.3k) (PART 2)

Characters: Jack Abbot x fem reader, x platonic! dennis Whittaker, x samira mohan (love her, mother) part 1

Content: 18+, established relationship, jealousy, angst, mentions of bleeding and getting punched, Jack Abbott lowkey an emotionally unavailable asshole, no spoilers for s2!, mentions of wounds and medical treatment. Part 3 will be coming! MDNI

Trinity’s delicate hands swiftly tie the light blue isolation gown over your black scrubs, her fingertips grazing the back of your neck. Which usually would have sent shivers down your spine.

But now your spine feels heavy and tired, it aches as though it’s struggling to hold up your head that’s burdened by the millions of insecure thoughts rushing through it.

“ you okay bumble?” She questions, her hands tying the lower back strings to the gown into a knot. Ensuring that no matter how aggressive or antsy the patient is, the gown will stay on.

You move your head, side to side. Trying to show that ‘yea nothings wrong, it’s not like I want to crumble into a ball on the floor and cry my heart out. I’m totally chill.’ Lifting the corner of your lips to put on a smile that doesn’t quite reach your melancholy eyes.

“ When are you going to stop calling me that?” You say letting out a loud sigh, interlocking both of your hands together and stretching them over your head. Your knuckles crack, the sound vibrating through the air, allowing for an illicit groan to slip from your lips. One you immediately pretend didn’t happen.

Trinity smiles, taking a step forward, finally facing you. Giving you less room to try to hide the hurt on your face, it was easier when she was behind you tying the gown which now feels a bit too tight. Trying to straighten your posture, you feel the pressure from the two little knots in the back restrict your failed attempts at good posture. “ Hey I think you tied it too tight-“

You feel two hands grip your shoulders, no doubt belonging to Trinity. “ Why the long face bumble?” She asks pulling the ends of the stethoscope hanging around her neck down, a habit of hers she does whenever she’s standing on business.

“ There is no long face Trin-“ your annoyed tone gets abruptly interrupted by god on her own two feet. You don’t even have to look to know who it is.

“ Jesus peach, somebody pee in your lucky charms this mornin?” Glossy blonde hair twisted into a little bun appears in your peripheral vision, dark grey scrubs coming into view as soon as she steps beside you.

“ there’s nothing wrong with me Dana! I’m totally normal! What..Are you guys suggesting my wrinkles are already that visible?” You stammer, voice raising an octave thanks to your nerves and inability to lie. It was never really your strong suit. Damn your stupidly transparent face.

Trinity hands you two pairs of blue surgical gloves, “ you’re gonna need two.” She says patting you on the back with a sly smile on her face. Just then, you feel the itchy latex come in contact with your warm cheeks.

“ Do you not put on the sunscreen my mom brought from the Philippines? Yeah..your wrinkles are realllyyyyy showing.”

Trinity says squishing your cheeks with her hands, as though you were a grumpy little child and not someone who’s a month older than her.

“ Knock it off you two! You’re hurting my heart if you think L/N here has some deep wrinkles. I must be the babadook then.” Dana jokes as she slips on a pair of gloves over her manicured fingers.

You two immediately stand up straight, truly like two little children getting scolded by their mom. Trinity leans in towards your ear, her pink plush lips graze your earlobe. “ Seriously why the stick up your ass?” She questions as quietly as she can, which is frankly not quietly considering its Trinity Santos.

“ I said knock it off you two!” Dana grabs one of the newly introduced patient ‘passports’, courtesy of Dr.Al-Hashimi’s efforts to improve the pitts numbers in the patient score satisfaction, and whacks Trinity on the shoulder.

A figure steps into the room, one hand on the door and one hand holding a black tablet, he peeks his head in.

“ We’re ready for you.” Donnie says pressing his lips into a tight line, trying to hide the joy and utter satisfaction that he won’t be the one suffering the wrath of the kraken.

It’s gonna be you…yayyyy…

Sucking in a deep breath with your eyes closed shut; hands starting to grow sweaty beneath the two layers of gloves and the tightness of the disposable gown just continues to rub against your skin in a manner which is so provoking it’s driving you insane in the brain.

Walking through the busy hospital hallways while Trinity and Dana discuss the possible reasons as to why ‘ you’re not giving Gods joy’ right now.

You try to tune their voices out, o to push them away to the back of your already self-destructive mind where they can dissolve like static.

You know how sometimes you can find comfort in static? Because it’s steady. predictable. Almost soothing in its consistency? Not this time. It’s not comfortable at all as you spot him with her.

He stands tall next to her, rugged face displaying softness and warmth as she throws her head back laughing at whatever he just whispered in her ear. How the light illuminates from her dimples and eyes, the little sparkle in her brown eyes.

Her eyes weren’t just brown, they were honey caught in shadow, glowing when the hospital light touched them. Who the hell looks this majestic underneath the annoyingly bright hospital lights?

You take note of how his hand rests on her lower back as he points at the large chart displayed over the hospital work area. A gesture he never makes with you. A sense of comfort he’s never offered you. Not in public at-least.

In private, it’s different. Completely different. You have to shove his wandering hands off of your body, even though he just catches both of your hands with just one of his and presses small, scattered kisses along your skin.

Even after rough cases, after you’ve felt your patients life slip underneath as you push your body to the edge trying to perform chest compressions. How the death rattle breathing slips from their mouths, silencing the last sign of life and soul inside the now empty vessel. Leaving behind the stillness of something that was once alive.

He still doesn’t offer you this comfort. Not after the countless times you’ve dragged your tired weak legs after him, covered with the blood of someone’s child, hoping for even a sliver of reassurance, like a child chasing after someone who wants nothing to do with their antics.

He would just press his lips into a tight-line and pat your back. The same way he comforts Whittaker, Langdon, Santos, Robinavitch, and Javadi. Like you were just one of them. And not someone who sits on the other end of the table with smudged lipstick.

You don’t notice the hands on your back pushing you towards the guarded ER room, you also fail to notice the man lunging at you.

You attempt to raise your elbows up to block your face, a hand-to-hand combat tip you learnt from the same man who’s responsible for your lack of attention and the fist now connecting to the middle of your face.

Your head snaps back, your body following along with it. The harsh concrete floor connects with your back and head, sending a wave of piercing agonising pain through your body.

You arch your spine instinctively as the pain settles into a dull, throbbing pain behind your eyes. You clench your teeth, trapping the whimper trying to crawl out of your throat.

Blood spills from your nose, warm and metallic, tracing a dark crimson path down your neck, staining your skin the colour of deep wine.

The smell of iron floods your senses, it that was even possible considering the blood pouring out of both of your nostrils. Does your noise even work now? Your hand shakes as you try to touch your nose, instead met with warm liquid

The room ascends into commotion and chaos, ahmed pushes past the doctors and nurses grabbing the kraken tightly and pushing him against the bed. Trying to restrain his wild, thrashing movements. If only that was the end of this horrible situation.

A stream of bodily fluids sprays you on you, instinctively tilting your head to the side to prevent it from reaching your probably broken nose.

More nurses and doctors begin to flood the loud room. You can’t tell if it was loud from the shouting, which you were very much used to in the ER which leads you to believe it was loud because of the ringing in your ears drowning everything else out.

A pair of hands wrap around your shoulders, trying to lift you up and lead you out of room.

You don’t notice the group of people surrounding you, asking if you’re okay. Or you do and just don’t care. The searing pain from your nose and the warm fluid trailing out of your nostrils are the only things keeping you from losing consciousness. Or you might just let it take you.

—

distant shouting and sharp, ragged breaths make you scrunch your nose, the noise dragging back the throbbing ache in your head to the surface. The same pain before everything went black. You passed out?

“ W-what happened?” You whisper, voice hoarse and raspy probably from the lack of water consumed within the past 10 hours of your shift.

“ Oh god L/N…”

His voice momentarily pulls you out of the gnawing pain in your head. Only to sharpen the stabbing pressure behind your eyes.

He stands there, calloused hands gripping the fabric of his black scrub pants as he tries to wipe the sweat and panic clinging to his palms, as though scrubbing them so furiously would erase what happened earlier.

“ Are you okay? How’s your nose? Your head?” His is husky and smoky sending shivers down your aching spine. His gaze settled low and steady on your confused face, eyes a deep storm-blue, carrying the restless weight of a storm pressing against the surface of a restrained ocean.

You notice how the veins in his arms protrude underneath his skin, a clear sign of his distress and panic that he’s trying to contain infront of you.

“ how are your sutures?” You whisper softly as your fingers graze the tip of your nose, biting your lower lip in pain.

“ Christ Y/N..”

Jack groans, burying his face in his hands as his fingers press against the aching throb inside his head. He stands in-front of you, hands dropping down to his sides. Gripping the black scrubs with his sweaty hands.

He looks like a kicked puppy, afraid to speak to you or even look at you. “ I uhm..” he coughs once. “ Your nose isn’t broken..”.

“ yeah I assumed. I’m not in excruciating pain.” You bluntly say in a monotone voice, not finding it in you to speak sweetly to the older man who’s know kneeling infront of you.

You watch him press his lips together into a tight line, tilting your head quizzically. Is he..upset? Oh god no.

Scooting to the edge of the hospital bed with your fingers tightly gripping the white paper sheet beneath you, watching it crinkle with your movements.

“ Hold on hold on careful peach-“ his hands grab a firm hold on your knees.

You narrow your eyes at him, “ Jesus! I’m okay Jack!” you say, scoffing and rolling your eyes.

How dare he? Oh right, the curtains to the hospital room are drawn shut. No one else is in the room, and no one stands from the outside either. Because here, behind the curtains, it’s allowed to exist.

“ I can’t believe you right now.” pushing yourself off the bed, hands steadily grabbing the wall for support. Vision starts to grow cloudy and hazy, the edges of your sight blurring and swaying as if the world was moving underwater.

His hands brace your jaggy rocking, “ What did I do? Come on just sit down peach-“ his eyes keep bouncing between the bottom of the curtain to spot if a pair of feet is approaching and you.

Even now, he’s just so afraid to be seen with you. When you’re clearly so riddled with fear and pain from whatever the hell happened in that hospital room. You’re still a burden to be seen with.

“ I can’t believe you right now.” the situation so funny to the point where you’re laughing and covering your mouth, a loud wince spilling out of your mouth from your fingertips accidentally nudging your injured nose.

“ Would you drop the attitude peach-“

“ You’re such an ass!”

“ Y/N” he warns.

“ Dr. Mohan,” you warn back.

You watch the way his head shoots back and the large step he takes back from you, hands falling down to his sides. You scoff.

“ You’re unbelievable, Dr. Abbott”

His face disappears in his hands, “ I told you not to get too close to me.” He says through his fingers, fingers that want to so badly reach for you but stay where they are, held back by something he’s too afraid to name.

“ Fuck you.”

Taglist: @krokietino @silovicbaird @lisiliely @stardream14 @stuffingbuttsandshit @moonz33 @sofialu13

[honeyfartfacial]

dearest honeyfart pls tell me there’s gonna be a part 2 to pens🙏🏼👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

dearest uhmellamoanna YES part 2 to pens will be posted either today or tomorrow. LOVE THE ILYA PFP

[honeyfartfacial]

PENS ..?

summary: almost caught having a steamy makeout session with your older not-so-boyfriend boyfriend in the middle of the emergency department by a certain pretty D.Mohan, getting ushered out of the room to deal with a violent patient. Jack thinks he’s doing what’s best for you. (2.4K) (PART 1) part 2

Characters: Jack Abbot x fem reader , x platonic! dennis Whittaker, x samira mohan ( love her, mother)

Content: 18+, established relationship, jealousy, angst, no comfort yet! this is part 1, no spoilers for s2!, mentions of wounds and medical treatment, allusions to smut! MDNI

“ L/N, I've got the patients' charts right here—" Harmless eyebag Dennis calls, one of his hands holding the large ER tablet and his other hand gripping the room's curtain tightly. His tousled, dirty brown curls kiss his eyebrows, his now raised eyebrows. “Oh! Should I come back later? -” He immediately turns around, dropping the tablet onto the floor. “ Crap! Crap! Im so sorry!” Bending his knees with his head turned down, Denniss slender hands shakily grip the edge of the black cover tablet.

Your hand twitches, holding the needle holder in one hand and tweezers in the other. “Dennis-” You hiss through gritted teeth, tightening your grip on the utensils. “ How many times have I told you not to barge in when I'm doing sutures?”

The frustration begins to vibrate through your body, feeling it in your throat and head. Not literally. Just theoretically, with the way your throat is ready to produce the vowels for the meanest words within the English language and your head's evil, evil thoughts about the poor little Nebraskan farm boy. Who is now looking at you like a deer caught in headlights.

You part your lips, ready to bark at Whittaker, when you feel a rugged, calloused hand rubbing the side of your outer thigh. From the side, completely unknown to Dennis or anyone walking by, the fully pulled curtain to one of the ER beds.

The warmth from his fingertips seeps through your black scrubs, feeling it against your skin like hundreds and hundreds of tiny needles poking at you, so tenderly and so softly. It grounds you from the outburst you were about to spew at Dennis.

He clears his throat, trying to straighten his back. Failing miserably, the open wound on his back makes him furrow his pretty eyebrows. The sound that fell from his mouth was even prettier if that was possible. A deep, guttural groan makes your eyes widen, and your legs quite the opposite.

“ Ja-” Clearing your throat, tilting your head to the side hurriedly. Ponytail swooshing in the air, brushing against his chiseled face. A breathy laugh escapes his chapped lips, a deep breathy chuckle that's sending butterflies swarming through the pit of your stomach and warmth to your face and hands.

“ Dr. Abbot, did I accidentally nudge you?” You murmur. Warm and gentle, almost melodic in a way. The kind of softness reserved for someone cherished and clement. Not for a deeply emotionally scarred man, built from restraint and trauma. Your attending. Much, much older attending.

“Don't worry about it, Dr.L/N, just keep..” He takes a deep breath in.

You watch closely, the way he draws in a deep breath, like a depraved woman. The slow drag of it. How his chest rises, pecs visible through his black scrubs. The way his tongue sweeps over his bottom lip. The same bottom lip you tug and pull with your teeth during late nights in the hospital bathroom. But never at home. Home is tightly restricted to shirtless him draped over your bed like a human heated blanket, with his biceps resting underneath your head. His salt and pepper hair toussled against your pillow. Your pillow, well, it has become his. Perfectly mended to his face, the same face you spend hours and hours staring at when you shouldn't be. Like now.

“ Just keep going.” He says, with a tight-lipped smile etched into his tired face.

You mimic his behaviour, also taking a deep breath in. Annoyance fills you as you look back at Dennis. But the annoyance quickly fades away when you look at his big blue eyes; he looks like a kicked puppy. Oh god you can't be mad at him. Poor little Hucklerry.

“ Just leave them there,” You point your elbow towards the workstation that's scattered with colorful pens and a notepad.

“ Right..right..right! I-ill just leave them right-right here!” Dennis plants the tablet onto the workstation, on top of your pens. This sends the pens flying off the table, scattering to the floor.

“ Just go, Nebraska!” You say, tightening your grip on the needle holder, as you tie another knot with the surgical thread.

That earns another unfortunate, fortunate for you, groan from the grouchy older man sitting on the hospital bed with his full-back muscles presented to you like a bucket of gold coins.

Dennis does a full 180 spin, stuffing his sweaty hands into the pocket of his black scrub pants. Your eyes immediately drop down to his ankles, his bare ankles. The hem of his pants hug the top of his ankles tightly, too tightly. Like he's scrunched them up to get ahead of a flood. Stupid idiot picked up scrubs 2 times smaller than his size. That earns a warm smile from you, losing the tenseness in your shoulders and back. Now, finally relaxing.

“ You gonna finish suturing this old man or are you going to keep me waiting?” Jack murmurs, his voice soft yet roughened on the edges. Like a shot of vodka sliding down you didn't know you needed on a Friday night.

“ Drop the attitude, and I might kiss it better.” You whisper softly, your forearm resting against his buff shoulder. You can feel him flex the muscle beneath you, cushioning the hands he loves so much.

He curls the corner of his mouth, letting out a quiet, tame chuckle. “You're gonna kiss me anyway, arentcha sweetheart?” Voice husky and breathy, each word sliding across you like heat. Tilting his head to the side, against your forearm.

You purposefully yank the thread into another knot, furrowing your eyebrows with your tongue sticking out the side of your lip. Peeking through the obvious grin on your lips.

He lets out a loud yelp, nuzzling his head against your forearm like a child. That earns a loud laugh from you, and you softly nudge your elbow against his head. “ Sit up straight! Or do you want your sutures to come out wonky? You're worse than a child, Dr Abbot.”

He traces your waist with his warm hands, sending shivers down your spine. Unconsciously arching your back a bit, leaning towards his touch without even realising.

“ Come onnnnn…” he drags the word out, breath thick with cigarette smoke and a sharp tang of nicotine gum. It makes you scrunch your nose and your eyes watery. Drawing your eyebrows together while pressing your lips into a tight line.

His midnight blue eyes, as if someone had bottled the ocean's deepest trench inside them, observe your face. He studies the way you just drew your eyebrows together, and how the little wrinkles appeared on your forehead. You were upset, and it was clear it was because of him.

“ No, no, no, come on, pretty girl..” He whispers under his breath. Wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you in, against his face. He rests his face against your stomach, pressing his lips right above your bellybutton and peppering you with little wet kisses. So tender and so delicate, you could fall and swoon at his knees.

After every little kiss he leaves on you, he blows a bit of cold air. The burning tingling feeling from the nicotine mint gum he was chewing prior makes you jump. Heart racing and vision blurring with lust. You can feel the upset exterior you temporarily built, because let's be honest, it was never gonna stand with the way his hands just feel so right on your skin.

“ You told me you would quit Jack.” You mumble as you put the suturing kit down, finally finishing a task that should have taken you five minutes if it weren't for Huckleberry barging in like a toddler telling his mom he puked.

“ I know I know.. I'm so bad..I don't deserve to be kissed…I don't deserve you.” He whispers against your stomach, shaking his head as if he were the disappointed one. As if he wasnt the one who broke a promise, a sworn pinkie promise made in an alleyway of a bar right in front of the ER. A promise made almost a year ago.

Placing your gloved hands on his shoulders, you attempt to push him off, but fail miserably as you feel his strong arms engulf your sides. Eyes widening and head shooting towards the closed curtain of the hospital room, so afraid that anybody could just yank them back and catch the sight of a resident and an attending getting cozy. During their shifts.

He takes your jawline in his calloused palms. The contrast of his rough skin against the softness and delicacy of your skin sends shivers down both of your spines. Unconsciously leaning your face deeper into his palm as your eyes lovingly bore into his. It's so unbelievably intimate that you both draw in deep breaths and close your eyes.

Both of your lips meet halfway, hands coming up to thread through his dark hair flecked with grey, soft yet telling of the years he's experienced before you. His hands find their way to grip the skin on your waist tightly, as if you could slip away at any time. And you could. It's happened before, steamy makeouts in the hospital staff lounge or bathroom being forcibly interrupted by loud pagers blaring through the hot wet kisses or Robby's voice vibrating through the Pitts ' walls calling for rounds or discussions. He is trying to get as much as you as he possibly can before his fantasies are ripped away from his fingertips, not that this wasnt already a fantasy…

And, then just like clockwork, the curtain gets pulled open.

But not before Jack's military-trained eyes spot the pair of black surgical clogs against the floor, peaking beneath the orange curtain. His once soothing, sensual grip is now distant and echoing through your body like a distant call. The force with which he had pushed you off sent you stumbling back, almost slipping on the scattered pens. Courtesy of Mr Whittaker's foolishness and idiocy.

Tan's hands wrap around your waist to stabilise you. It doesn't feel the same as the hands that were gripping onto you a mere three seconds ago. Not like Jacks hands, hands that have memorised every curve, and inch of you. Their hands feel foreign and distant, like a key fitting into the wrong lock.

“You okay there Dr. L/N?” An airy, silky voice cuts through the sweaty tension in the room. You part your lips in shock and embarrassment, immediately stepping to the side and turning your head towards Dr Mohan.

Her eyebrow raised with a lopsided smile framing her soft face, shes waiting for you to respond.

“ Yeah! Yeah, sorry, I was just picking up my scattered pens.” You say, clearing your throat as you crouch down quickly and let your hands pick up the pens that have canvased the ER floor.

You were about to open your mouth to start spewing excuses for your ill ability to see patients waiting in the waiting room when you were quickly forced to shut your mouth.

“ You okay there, Dr Abbot?” Dr Mohan asks, tilting her head to the side, her beautiful dark eyes gazing at his figure. Her eyes so deep you could not tell when the pupil ended, the kind of darkness that holds warmth and a magnetic pull of something you just cannot name.

He nods his head, his hands itching to start gathering the pens with you. His fingers flex against his palm, as if it's physically hurting him to not be able to help you or hold you. His dark blue eyes gaze into hers. And just like that, you feel as though you have disappeared. In his eyes.

“ Dr L/N was just patching me up. Got hurt in combat-” She cuts him off.

“ Oh no lets take a look.” Her long, slender fingers grab the blue elastic gloves and yanks them out of the box. Her hands almost melodically slip the gloves on, like a symphony shes performed hundreds of times. And she has, but each time it just seems to mesmorise you more and more. Apparently not just you.

“ Oh, I have already looked over and suttured him, Dr Mohan-” Standing up with fifteen pens gripped tightly in your fist, with a few slipping to the floor from how quickly you were to react to her words in haste.

“Didn't Dr Whittaker need you, Dr L/N? There is no need to worry, Dr Mohan here is said to have the stealthiest hands for sutures.” Jack says, his lips pressed into a tight-lipped smile. Lips that were just connected to yours a mere five minutes ago, unforgiving and ravenous against yours. Now smiling at someone else.

Was it just you who still felt the ghost of his lips trailing along your body and lips? Or did he feel it too? Does he feel you as deeply as you feel him? What are you saying? Are you overthinking? Of course he does. Right..? No yea right.

So why is he so entranced with her? While you're stuck on the floor picking up scattered pens like a child.

You watch him lift his shirt, revealing another wound. A wound which he didn't tell you about or show you when you immediately dragged him into this room after seeing his beaten figure walk into the ER. Eyes widening and lips parting in surprise and hurt. Did he not trust you to suture well enough? Is he questioning your ability to suture as a resident?

His eyes immediately find yours after Dr Mohan's short, quiet gasp; he can see the hurt that's momentarily washed over your eyes. But he doesn't say anything, too afraid to get caught or be seen by Dr Mohan. So he just chooses to ignore you. Great choice. Not like you were flying in over your head, a million insecurities rushing through your mind. She's older, far more experienced, not only in the medical field but also socially, romantically, shes just so much cooler and funnier. And god her hair-

“ Dr L/N, are the pens covered in butter?” Dr Mohan attempts to lift the tension in the room by cracking a little joke, earning an awkward chuckle from Jack.

You lick your lips in embarrassment as you squint your eyes shut, clammy, sweaty hands grabbing the remaining pens that keep escaping your wet grip.

“ The Kraken needs a change. Would you mind, Dr L/N?” She asks as her fingers graze Jack's abdomen, where his wound lies.

“ No no no. Not at all!” You respond as you turn around and yank the curtain open, but not before looking into Jack's eyes. Eyes that are now looking at her.

Fuck.

[honeyfartfacial]

ON FILM

pairings; mean!ellie x fem reader

summary; spending countless nights wrapped in Ellie’s bed but not in her arms made you realise something. You want more, you’ve always wanted more. But Ellie doesn’t want more. Or maybe she does. But what if it’s too late?

cw; ellie is rlly mean :((, angst, guns, set in tlou universe!

“ Els could you pass me my shirt?” You ask sitting yourself up on your girl- well not girlfriend. Your friend with benefits? Not even, not like it was decided and talked between the two of you that you are friends with benefits. Does your relationship with Ellie even tick the boxes of a friends with benefits one? It has benefits, most definitely. Like now, when you're laying half naked on her fitted sheets, which are supposed to be tightly secured around the corners of the mattress, may have come loose as a result of you and Ellie making love or from how harshly she sprung from the bed the second you two came down from your highs.

A delicate and tender brush of the strings of her guitar is the answer you get, did she not hear you? It's not like you're far away. She's only a few feet away from you. Sitting on her worn out black rolling chair with her guitar placed delicately on her thighs. You watch as the auburn strands of her hair that were just in your hands a mere 5 minutes ago move softly with the gentle bopping of her head, as her skilled fingers sweep across the strings like they are the most fragile thing. Nothing compared to the roughness she displays on her fingers when they are touching your skin. “ Els-” The strum resonates with an unpleasant, off-key twang. 

She lets out a loud sigh. And suddenly, you're picking at the delicate skin of your palms. The same palms which were trying to feel the warmth of her palms only to be roughly grabbed and pinned above your head. With one hand gripping the neck of her guitar and the other resting over the strings she raises her head up. “ What?” She says with her eyes closed. You raise your hand and point at the dark green fabric laying down crumbled next to her feet. Ellie lets out a sigh as she bends over in her chair, grabbing your shirt and throwing it over to you. 

The shirt didn't even make the flight as it fell to the ground near the edge of the bed. You push your body towards the end of the bed, leaning over to pick up the shirt. The rough fabric of your shirt doesn't meet your fingertips, cold metal does. You raise an eyebrow in confusion as you pull your hand up. Your eyes widen and your lips part. “ Holy shit you have a polaroid camera Els?!” You energetically exclaim rotating the camera in your hand.

“ Yeah yeah.. Joel told me to start a photo album. Apparently-” She cuts herself off placing her guitar down on the floor gently against her table. “ Hey, you're still covering my shift for me this morning right?” She asks, leaning her body back against the backrest of her chair. Crossing her arms as her eyes are planted at your hands holding the camera.

“ pfft yeah- But oh my god this is so cool! I've been wanting one for so long! I've never had my picture taken-” You rotate the camera around towards you, your finger presses a button. “ No wait-” Ellie stands up from her chair, sending it flying back. Almost hitting a wall from the violent shove the chair has fallen victim to. There's a bright flash on your face, your lips puckered and your eyes widely opened. 

Ellie snatches the camera from your grasp. You furrow your eyebrows, your lips parted in surprise. “ E-Els what-” Your voice is high-pitched as your cheeks grow a slight shade of pink from shock. 

“ Damn it!” Ellie shouts, throwing the camera on the other side of the bed, away from you. Your head shoots around to look at the camera, afraid that it was gonna bounce off the bed and break into a hundred pieces. “ W-what are you doing-” She cuts you off.

“ No, what are you doing?! Jesus.” She shouts, putting a hand over her face. Harshly sliding her hand over her skin in frustration. You raise an eyebrow in confusion and tilt your head to the side, “ What did I do?” You ask your voice rising in pitch but growing weaker in volume. Like a child. 

Ellie throws her head back in annoyance, “ Do you have zero manners? Did your mom not teach you? You don't just grab someone's stuff and act like it's yours-” You shoot up from her bed quickly putting your shirt on, your lips are still parted in shock. Why is she so mad? 

“ Jesus Els i-it's just a picture.” You say crossing your arms, suddenly feeling insecure and small. Ellies pacing back and forth, letting out disgruntled cuss words under her breath. “ That was the last film I had- And now it's been wasted on you! It wasn't meant to be used on you damn it! Now where else am I gonna find more films!” She shouts, throwing herself on her chair. 

Ouch. You feel a sting in your heart. Actually no. A sting would be an understatement of the century compared to the hurt you feel in your heart. You feel sweat form on the back of your neck and your fingers immediately grabbing the ends of your worn out shirt. It feels like your heart was harshly grabbed and thrown into 50 layers of glass. Each little piece of glass  being every memory of you and Ellie in which she would treat you like a toy and the final big shard of glass piercing your heart through and through is this. Do you as a human being, as someone who searches for her in every crowd, as someone who looks at her whenever something funny happens during bar nights in Jackson, as someone who would be wrapped up in her sheets every other night have less value than polaroid film? 

You remain silent. The realization just now hitting you. The reality of the situation just now hitting you like a harsh tidal wave knocking you out on the sand. Your fingers which were nervously picking at the loose strings of your shirt suddenly stop. 

Your lack of response seems to anger Ellie more. “ You know what-” She shoots up from her chair and walks up to you. “ You're gonna find me more film today on your supply run. And your not coming back until you have it or whatever the fuck-” Her finger swats back and forth between the two of you. Just as she was about to open her mouth to throw more cruel words at you, there were 4 knocks on her door.

“ I don't wanna interrupt you two girls but Ellie, Jesse is looking for you.” A deep voice cut through like a worn, steadfast anchor falling down the depths of the ocean only to be pulled back as he mentioned Ellies name. 

Ellies body softens as she hears Joel speak. His voice snapping her out of her trance, her sudden fit of anger. She shakes her head and looks at you. Her eyes soften as she gazes into what usually are your warm and soft eyes now suddenly distant. As if a veil had descended over them. Her gaze, accustomed to finding solace in the familiar gentleness of  your eyes, in which she would hate to admit and despise herself for , now falters upon encountering their newfound coolness. Where once there had been an openness that mirrored the tender embrace of a summer breeze, now there lay a guardedness that spoke of unspoken burdens and distant thoughts. And it had all been her doing. 

“ Hey s-sweetheart- '' Her voice trembles at the nickname. And suddenly, you remember how her voice never trembles or shakes when she calls Dina or Cat sweet names. It 's just you. Do you disgust her so much you're not even worth the nickname. The sweet calling, the term of endearment which would usually make you melt. Not that she ever called you any sweet name. It's always Y/N or just ‘you’. And now that you've heard it. You never wanna hear it again.

“ It 's fine.” You whisper, scared that if you were to raise your voice just a note that you would break down. You gently push Ellie to the side, your shoulder hitting hers. Your voice, usually a beacon of exuberance, fell silent. It was as if the air around you had grown heavy with unspoken words and unshed tears, casting a solemn curtain over your once-cheerful demeanor. 

Your touch, once a balm against the trials of the day, met an unexpected resistance, a subtle tensing beneath the surface of your skin. Ellie felt it instantly. The fleeting hesitation in your shoulder, the barely perceptible shift in your posture. Where once there had been a seamless connection, a dance of harmony between your souls, now there lay a fragile distance. A silent rift that echoed with unspoken questions.

—-

“ You're unusually quiet.” Jesse says shoving the christmas mugs on the shelf of a store you two stumbled upon. His fingers wrapped delicately around the handles of the bright red,green, and white mugs. It's Christmas time in Jackson. Maria had sent you and Jesse on the hunt for christmas decoration. Not forgetting to repeat that if it's red it doesn't mean it's Christmas themed to Jesse at least 5 times. Or maybe it was more. You weren't exactly listening, your mind preoccupied with the Ellie situation. You feel your body tense up at the mention of her name.You feel something poke your knee, immediately looking down. You see Jesse's hand holding the mug nudging you.

“ Hey. You okay?” He speaks, his voice soft and gentle. You almost feel bad for zoning out on his rambles. Rambles that would usually be spewing out of your mouth. You nod your head smiling, “ Yeah no im alright- Hey uh.. do you think they've got like camera film in here?” 

Jesse laughs, shaking his head. “ Let me guess. Ellie has gotten you looking for film? Her fault for running out, she took like 30 of just Dina and Cat.” Jesse says standing up, turning around placing both of his hands on his hips looking around the store. He takes a deep breath in squinting his eyes trying to catch a glimpse of the store signs hanging above. “ Its too dark to see cus of these stupid lights but I think maybe-”

All you hear is static. Your entire body feels like it's being filled with static. You know that feeling, when your arm or leg is asleep and they feel too heavy to move and you just keep getting that stinging sensation. That's how your entire body feels. She took 30 of Dina and Cat. 30 pictures. 30 pictures of the flash hitting their face. 30 pictures of them doing a face. Maybe sticking their tongue out or even puckering their lips. So why was it a crime when you did it? Why was it a big deal when you did it? 

“ Yeah thanks.” You say patting Jesse's shoulder. You dig your cold hands into the pocket of your jeans and start walking. Following the way down the aisles of the store, peeking your head in each aisle hoping to find a bright coloured pack of film. You weren't gonna talk to Ellie after you find her the film, that is if you can even find the film. If you can't find the film she[ll be the one not speaking to you. 

You stop on one aisle. Removing your hands from your pockets, feeling the cold breeze hit them immediately. Cursing under your breath, you repeatedly rub your hands up and down the sides of your legs hoping that the friction would atleast give you some heat. You bring both hands up to your mouth, blowing into them. “ No way they had to worry about which color ribbon to buy.” You whisper to yourself, your eyes fixated on all of the colorful ribbons hanging on the shelves. Puckering up your lips, you breathe out through your nose. Walking down what seemed like an endless row of ribbons. You finally spot them.

You speed-walk towards the end of the aisle. You pull your backpack off and immediately start stuffing the packs of film. Grabbing as many as you can and shoving them in ruthlessly as you bite your lip. Your eyesight goes blurry. You're tearing up. Nope, scratch that you're crying. Tears roll down your cold cheeks as you keep shoving in the film at a remarkable speed. You're biting your lower lip trying to stop a sob from escaping. Before you were about to have a full blown breakdown you hear Jesse shout. 

“ Y/N! WATCH OUT!” Jesse shouts running to you, shooting a clicker behind you. You immediately shoot up, throwing your backpack over your shoulder and grabbing your gun from your holster. “ Jesus fuck!” You shout stumbling backwards at the hoard of clickers running towards you and Jesse.

Jesse grabs you, pulling you up. “ We can't take them all- We have to make a run for it!” He says running, your hand still in his. Your heart is racing, you can feel it in your fingertips, your ears, your toes. Turning your head around to catch a glimpse of exactly what you're dealing with, you almost stop on your feet. There's at least 20. “ Fuck fuck Jesse we wont make it!” You shout, pointing your gun backwards shooting aimlessly at the hoard of clickers only growing faster.  

Your brain is short-circuiting. Millions of scenarios are running through your head. 99% of them are of you dead, bleeding out on the floor with a hoard of clickers feasting on your body like it’s their first and final meal. Your chest is heaving up and down. Your breathing but it’s not enough. It probably is enough if it weren’t for your brain trying to convince you it’s not. 

You two won’t make it out of the store without them attacking your horses. You need to come up with a plan. You need to come up with a plan now immediately. 

“ Jesse, keep going! I’ll distract them!” You shout, ripping your hand out of his tight grasp, surely he’s left prints of his fingers on your hand. Jesse’s hand immediately tries to grab yours again, “ No Y/N! What are you doing you idiot!” Jesse shouts.

You push him forward out of the store doors, you turn around and shoot the clickers that were too close to you. You lean your back against the sliding glass doors, Jesse's on the other side pounding on the door trying to push it open. “ Fucking go!” You shout shooting more of them. God why are there so many.

“ Open the fucking door Y/N!” He shouts banging on the door. You shout in frustration, stomping your leg on the floor at his stubbornness. Your other hand reaches for the knife strapped to your thigh. Turning around you stab the window with the knife. The glass shattering all over the floor, some shards even landing on Jesse. You yank your backpack off and throw it throw the window  “ Give me your gun and fucking go!” 

Jesse’s hand shakily hands you the gun as he grabs your backpack, slinging it over his shoulders and runs to his horse. You turn around and watch him mount the horse, his eyes are shiny with tears. He leans down grabbing a rock and throwing it to a glass window on the other side of the store distracting some of the clickers. Mounting his horse he sets off.

You move away from the glass and keep shooting the clickers, alerting the ones Jesse had just distracted. The hoard rushes towards you. “ Fuck.” 

——

Ellie immediately runs to the gates of Jackson after hearing the shouts of the guards on the watchtowers announce Jesse’s arrivals. Her heart racing. Her hands sweaty at the thought of seeing you after everything that's happened, not like her hands aren’t usually sweaty when she thinks about you. Just the mere thought of you makes her heart race and her palms sweaty. And it scares her. Really fucking scares her. 

The gates opening cuts her out of her trance. She sees Jesse. She doesn’t see you. Where are you? She makes a run for the gates expecting you to be following behind Jesse but your not. “ W-where’s?” Her voice is cut off by Jesse’s. “ We need backup! Damn it Y/N!” He jumps off his horse, his hands in his head. 

No. 

She sees your backpack on his back. No. No. No. Please no. God no.

Your backpack falls off his shoulders. Ellie makes a run for your bag, almost breaking the zipper. 

“ T-the place got overrun and Y/N stupidly distracted them and-”

Your bag is full of films

[honeyfartfacial]

writing the most gut wrenching angst I’m literally gonna tear my body apart from the sadness

[honeyfartfacial]

YOUR SO ANNOYING

PAIRING: vance hopper x fem reader

SUMMARY: you get into a fight with your best friend vance hopper, in the heat of the moment he says he hopes you get kidnapped by the grabber. except you do end up getting kidnapped by the grabber.

PART 1 / PART 2

WARNING: asshole vance. he’s rlly mean. kidnapping. the grabber. cuss words obv. slight talk of abuse! vance is an asshole in this!

“ of course i’m gonna do it dumbshit i said i would.” vance mumbles concentrating on the game infront of him, his fingers tapping the pinball machines buttons repeatedly. your standing next to vance to his right. watching the ball in the game go up and down. you turn your head to the side for a second, your lips curve into a smile.

walking to the candy aisle with your hands shoved in the pocket of your jeans. your eyes sparkle looking at the many many bags of candy, you reach for a cherry lolipop. you turn around and start to walk looking down at the lolipop. rotating the lolipop around you read the wrapper ‘ tattoo inside’. “ vance! vance look!” you cheer running to him with your eyes still on the lolipop, all though your looking down you fail to see your shoe laces scattered on the floor running with you.

“ vance-“ you trip over your shoelace hitting the pinball machine, you drop the lolipop falling on your butt. “ vance look what i-“ you look up smiling.

vance is staring daggers at you. he clenches his teeth. balling his hands into a fist. he kicks the game, “ you idiot!” he shouts.

his face is reddening, a vein twitches in his neck, his eyebrows furrow. your eyes bounce between the game and vance. your heart is racing. your eyes are wide. “ i-i didn’t mean too vance-“ he cuts you off, kicking the gum ball machine next to you. you flinch turning your head the other way. “ i didn’t mean too vance i just wanted to show you-“ he crouches down grabbing you by the shirt. he slams you against the fridge full of drinks.

he digs his hand into the pocket of your jeans, pulling out all your change. “ shut up loser.” he lets you go walking back to the game. you stand back on your feet, taking a deep breath in. you follow vance.

vance has always been like this. mean. super duper mean. he’s really easy to piss off. no one really dares to piss him off though, and for anyone who tried to piss him off would end up with a broken noise or a broken wrist. that’s one of the main reasons why vance didn’t have many friends. he only had you and caleb. you before caleb. you and vance grew up together, your houses on opposite blocks. you would often pick him flowers which he would end up stepping on. but that’s when you were 7. you stopped picking him flowers ever since.

if anyone tried to mess with you, vance would pull them into the school bathroom and dunk their head in the school toilets. pulling them by the hair and making them swear to never mess with you again. sometimes he’d scratch them with his pocket knife, threatening to cut off their own tongue. but he never did, your thankful that he’s never done that. otherwise he’d be in jail, then who would be there to hang with you? caleb? eh

——

“ vance can you walk me home?” you ask walking behind vance. caleb starts laughing. “ what are you 5 y/n?” he says grabbing his bike. you pout rolling your eyes, what a douchebag. doesn’t matter. “ yeah y/n your not a little kid.” vance teases shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “ but it’s really dark vance-“ caleb cuts you off.

“ boo!” he shouts, you flinch. you roll your eyes pushing him. “ your not funny asshole!” caleb chuckles, “ whatever i’ll see you idiots tomorrow.” he gets on his bike. “ say hi to your mom for me asshole.” vance whistles watching caleb paddle away, caleb turns around flipping him off. you gently pull vance’s jean jacket, he lets out an exaggerated sigh. clearly ‘annoyed’

“ can you walk me home?” you ask again biting your lower lip. vance crosses his hands, narrowing his eyes. “ you have two working legs dipshit walk home yourself.” he says sharpening his tone towards the end of his sentence. “ yeah but vance- with the whole grabber thing it’s scary i don’t wanna walk home alone.” you pout shifting your weight from one foot to the other. vance throws his head back groaning, “ your so annoying.” he mumbles. “ please vanc-“ he cuts you off.

“ go walk home yourself you useless piece of shit. im not responsible for your safety.” he turns around starting to walk, your eyes widen. you stumble after him. “ vance pleas-“ he turns around.

“ you know what if the grabber actually ends up getting you, thank him for me because your the most annoying person on earth. your always following me around like some fucking dumbass. i’m so sick and tired of you.”

you turn around, all you see is black. there’s no working light posts on your side of town. “ i really do hope the grabber gets you y/n. atleast that way i won’t you on my back all the fucking time!” he kicks the glass door to the grab n go. you look down to your black worn out converse, you nod. “ i’ll see you tomorrow vance.” you mumble turning around.

——

it’s dark. too dark. your heart is racing. your sweating. you try to hum to a random song to distract you from the darkness but your little hums are weak. you refuse to look up. scared that if you look up something is gonna appear in-front of you and eat you. if vance could see you right now he’d call you a pussy and weak. probably laugh at you and put you in a headlock. calling you a sore loser and high maintenance. you let out a little giggle at the thought of vance teasing you.

you hear an engine behind you, the light from the what you guess is a car is giving you some light. you continue walking down the street with your hands in your pockets with a slight smile on your face. gosh vance is so funny. your little daydream trance is cut off by a door opening. “ hey little girl! would you mind helping me? my engines seems to be a little rusty and i need someone to hold my tools.” a man says behind you.

you gulp. your eyes widen. ‘ y/n. run.’ your brain is malfunctioning. your heart is racing. your palms are sweaty. “ n-no i-im- i need to go home.” you refuse to turn around, scared that if you do you’ll freeze. “ i just need a little help.” you hear footsteps behind you, you turn around. “ no get away from me!” you scream walking backwards. the man looks around, i’m fear that your screams might’ve alerted some people. he runs to you.

“ help! help somebody help!” you scream running.

he wraps his hands around you picking you up. you thrash back and fourth. he puts a hand over your mouth silencing you, you start to tear up. he drags you towards his van. “ shh shh shh it’s alright.” he mumbles tightening his grip on you, you shake your head tears escaping you eyes. tears rolling down your cheek bones, they land on his hand. the hand that’s covering your mouth. your pulse is rapid. your vision is cloudy. your eyes are weak. he throws you into the back of his van, “ this would’ve gone a lot easier if you had just listened!” he shouts slamming the door close. you close your eyes drifting off.

——

something is bugging vance. he’s on edge. he’s always on edge but it’s different. it’s different this morning. something is missing. someone is missing. “ where’s dipshit?” caleb asks crossing his hands nudging vance. vance pushes him off, “ get off me you cunt.” vance grunts rolling his eyes. “ what’s up your ass today hopper?” caleb chuckles raising an eyebrow, “ piss off asshole.” vance pushes past caleb.

vance looks at the empty seat next to him. ‘it’s her seat’. it’s your seat. and it’s empty. why aren’t you here? why is it so empty? why does he feel empty? why haven’t you annoyed him yet? why aren’t you here annoying him? he shakes his head. he pulls a pocket knife out of his backpack. sliding it across his table. he turns around once again, to your empty seat. rolling his eyes he stabs his table.

“ vancen. vance hopper.” his name is called out. he turns his head around towards the classroom door, his chemistry teacher and two unknown men are standing there staring at him. “ what.” he snaps pulling the knife. “ we need to talk to you son.” one of the men says leaning against the door frame. “ what do you want.” he growls shoving the knife in his pocket. “ it’s about y/n l/n.” the other man says. vance sighs standing up. “ what did that fucker do this time..” he mumbles.

“ how long have you known y/n l/n?” the detective says opening his notepad, vance closes his eyes in annoyance. he leans back against the chair manspreading. “ why the fuck does that matter assholes?” he says crossing his hands eyeing him up and down. “ vance hopper we would appreciate your full cooperation-“ vance groans. “ maybe if you’d tell me what you shit pigs want with me then i’ll give you my full fucking cooperation.”

“ language vance!” the principal shouts.

“ do you happen to know where y/n would go if something was going on at home?” the detective asks writing something down in his notepad, “ how the fuck would i know where that pussy would go?” he throws his head back against the cushions, he stares up into the ceiling. “ y/n l/n is missing.” the other detective blurts out annoyed by vance’s attitude.

vance’s eyes widen. his heart stops. he sits up. “ w-what?” he mumbles. there’s a lump in his throat, he can’t swallow it. “ w-what do you mean she’s missing?” he stutters biting his nails. no no this can’t be. this can’t be. there’s no way. no fucking away. no answer. he stands up, “ what the fuck do you mean she’s missing!” he shouts.

“ vance-“ his principal attempts to calm him down, “ what the fuck do you mean she’s missing!” he shouts kicking the glass table infront of him. “ son calm down.” the detective says standing up. “ calm down?! calm down? your telling me to calm down when y/n is fucking missing!” he shouts trying his best to fight back tears. he looks down shaking his head. “ no. no. no.” he whispers running out of the principals office. “ vance! vance hopper!” the principal calls behind him.

“ no no this can’t be happening no.” vance shakes his head. it’s his fault. all his fault. he said. he said he hoped the grabber got you. and he did. he kidnapped you. your gone. your gone. your gone. oh god no no no. y/n. he leans against a locker, “ no no..” he whispers sliding down the locker. he should’ve just walked you home. if he walked you home you’d still be with him. maybe the grabbed would’ve kidnapped you both, that way he would still be able to protect you. it’s his fault. it’s his fault. fuck fuck fuck.

his vision is cloudy. his hands are shaking. his lower lip is trembling. “ vance..” a soft voice calls for him. he slowly looks up. your in-front of him. his eyes widen, tears roll down his face. “ vance.” you whisper softly. you gently caress his cheek. he grabs hold of your hand. “ save me vance.” you whisper tearing up. you start disappearing. “ no! no! y/n! you asshole!” he shouts standing up. “ kid. hey hey kid calm down!” the detective runs up to him grabbing him, “ let go of me! let go of me motherfucker!” vance shouts trying to break free. usually he’d easily break out, but he’s so weak right now. “ y/n! y/n!” he shouts looking at the place you once were caressing his cheek. “ calm down!” the detective shouts in his ear.

“ save me vance.” you whisper in his ear again. he stops fighting back. he looks down at his hands, a cherry lolipop he was gonna give you this morning.

[bigtiddywench]

This is supposed to be purely platonic (at least that's what I'm assuming). The ages are not specified but I'm sure the writer intended the characters to be their Canon ages of 13 ish. So yeah. PLATONIC!

I'm watching you creeps out there

[honeyfartfacial]

Girl don’t call me a creep tf 💀 if u read my story you would obviously tell the reader is the age of the other characters which is 13-15. She’s acting like a child and it clearly says ‘ best friend’ you can obviously tell this is platonic? I don’t think you’ll ever meet someone who’s over the age of 18 who acts the way reader does. she’s a child and it’s strictly platonic

[honeyfartfacial]

I’ve made up my silly little empty mind. I’ll write a part 3 to ‘ your so annoying’ after my exams r over 😜😜

[honeyfartfacial]

I’m back from the dead. 😁 and I have a fanfic to post very soon where reader has their guts rearranged. update: 5K WORDSS AND IM STILL NOT DONEE 😍😍. Another update: 6K I’m almost done 😈

[honeyfartfacial]

I ALREADY TAGGED MORE THAN 50 PPL ON THE POST ITSELF BUT BABES I POSTED PART 2!!

@phoenixgurl030

@icanfixhimclub

@ccyberppunk

@frenchkissmepls

@bullshitantichrist

@queenfairyfangirl

@sillyfreakfanparty

@teelagurl558

@ellieonmarz

@thesnoweclipse

@dezibou

@tenderhornynihilist

@the1999kid

@sebastiansstanswhore

@camreid

@julielightwood

@theintrovertedthespian

[honeyfartfacial]

Where is part 2 to "In Ruins" I'm gonna cry without one 😭😭 or I guess you could say I'll be in ruins without knowing what happens after that cliffhanger 🤣

I DID ITTT IM SO SORRY IM LATE 😭😭😭😭

[honeyfartfacial]

IN RUINS 2

PAIRING: spencer reid x fem reader

SUMMARY: spencer reid has always had something against you. during a particular case, spencer snaps and says something he shouldn’t have said leaving you in ruins. but what happens when your in danger and he still hasn’t explained why he reacted the way he did. will he have the time?

IMPORTANT COMMENT!!!!: hi my pumpkin cupcake stinky wonky pookie bears. IM SO SORRY IVE BEEN A FRAUD! 💔💔 jokes but I’m rlly sorry I haven’t been writing for the past months ive been to the hospital multiple times and also had someone close to me pull a ‘I’m dead’ card on me and then I was oh! BUT I think I’m okay I think I’m better and I’ll start posting more I have a lot of ideas but tbh this one was a draft before allat happened so it’s shit but and I wanted to get rid of it cus it js reminded me of everything that happened before 😭 BUT I’m rlly rlly sorry ITS SO LATE

" why is your mom calling you she hasn't called you in 7 months " scott anderson says rubbing his face repeatedly his fingers shaking, his other hand is in a fist digging his nails in the palm of his hand. he walks away from jj who's tied up on the floor with her feet and hands wrapped in rope. the grip on your phone tightens.

" she's calling me because it was my aunts birthday scott." you say looking at scott in the eyes. he stands up biting his nails. " your lying to me." he says walking to you, his eyes dark. you wish his eyes at-least looked like they had nothing behind them, but his eyes definitely have something behind them.

his eyes look determined. they looked commited. and he’s looking at you. your eyes widen. your hands become sweaty. you take a step back. “ i’m not lying to you scott.” you respond back gently shaking your head. you raise your eyebrows softly smiling at him. “ i wouldn’t lie to you scott.” you say the grip on your hand tightening to the point where your hand is shaking.

his gaze softens for a second, his eyes aren't so dark now. his eyebrows soften. " you wouldn't lie to me y/ n?" he whispers gently walking up to you. you nod gulping, " ¡ wouldn't lie to you scotty" you whisper smiling. he smiles. taking another step towards you. you take a deep breath in.

"y-your doing a great job y/n" spencer's shaky voice speaks into the phone. it's the only thing keeping you sane right now. he sounds nervous. you can hear him gulp repeatedly. he's stuttering a lot right now. he's probably blinking a lot. a habit he has when he's nervous. a habit you've absorbed from afar. " your doing a really really great job y/n. i'm so proud of you." no he shouldn't have said that. he should not have said that. he shouldn't have said that. you tear up. why are you tearing up? you can't tear up right now. not right now. please not right now.

your throat feels heavy. your heart feels heavy. a part of you feels funny. your ears feel funny, never having heard those words before. your brain is trying to process the words. it can't process them. it's funny though. no matter how much insane messed up stuff you've heard on the job none of it really ever seemed to take a toll on you. but hearing those 5 words. it's taking a toll on you. and it's not the right time. why are they so triggering. what are they triggering? the inner child inside of you who never got to hear those words? the teen inside of you who never got to hear those words? or is it adult you who still hadn't heard those words up until now? it's too much. why are you tearing up?

“ why are you crying.” scott says. something in his eyes has changed. oh god. his eyes darken. his eyebrows tighten. he’s shaking his head smiling. “ what is your mom saying? why is she making you cry? do you want me to kill her?” he says with pleading eyes smiling. he’s taking a step towards you. “ or are you not talking to your mom right now…” he mumbles. your eyes widen. you shake your head. “ or…your not calling your mom you bitch!” he shouts taking another step towards you. you don’t have time to react. he grabs you by the neck slamming you against the wall. his hand tightens around your neck.

you choke on your words. the tears that gathered up finally start to fall. your free hand wraps around scott's arm thats choking you. you repeatedly hit his arm. " please stop." you plead shaking your head. his grip tightens on your neck. " your a liar. your just like him." he spits his gaze darkening. he grabs your phone throwing it across the room. it knocks over a glass vase.

"¡'m not like him." you choke out shaking your head. " shut up! yes you are!" he shouts in your voice, spit getting on your face.

" let her go!" ji shouts from the floor. her voice cracks mid sentence. probably due to fear. watching you struggle is affecting her. just watching you struggle makes her feel as though she is the one struggling.

scott turns his head around. " what did you just say?" he says slowly releasing you. you take a deep breath in. you look at scott. another wave of fear hits you. what's he gonna say to jj? what's he gonna do to jj? she shouldn't have said anything. she should've kept quiet. he can't hurt her. you have to do something.

" i said let her go. you can't hurt her. she's what you want right? you can't hurt her. why would you hurt someone you love?" jj says her eyes darting between you and scott. to scott she looks desperate, to you. you know what jj's trying to say with her eyes.' we will be fine. seeing ji look at you like that. a rush of adrenaline hit you. you have got to do something. why are your hands so weak. why do you feel as though you don't have control of your body. why do you feel as though you can't control anything. damn it.

" you show love by hurting the ones you love." he whispers. you slowly reach for the gun in your pocket, trying not to alert him. and god is it hard " y/ n would know." he says chuckling. your so close to the gun. " isn't that right y/n?" he turns around to look at you. he sees your hand. he sees the hand thats reaching for the gun. he grabs your gun. your hand immediately forms into a fist, you punch him in the jaw. he falls back. holding his jaw. " you bitch!" he shouts.

you run to jj. you drop down to your knees. your shaky hands immediately start to undo the knots of the rope. "jj you need to get out." you say out of breathe. your trembling hands making it harder to undo the rope quickly. " no- what. y/n dont. i'm not leaving without you. the team is coming t-they're on their way y/n. ji says shaking her head in denial. her hands are untied. " god jj! i always follow your orders! just follow mine! just this once." you snap back moving onto her legs. you untie her. " get out of here now jj! he wont hurt me jj. hes obsessed with me he wont. trust me." you say nodding.

jj hasn't been a profiler for a long time. anyone else on the team would've called you out for your bullshit right now. if he wanted to hurt you. he definitely would. he would do anything to get you to be obedient. he could probably kill you if he wanted to. but jj doesn't know that. she thinks he's just a stalker who's obsessed with you and probably wouldn't seriously harm you. but you know unsubs like him all too well.

ji stands up running to the door. she opens the door. she turns to look at you again. you look at her and smile. " just go." you mouth. she quickly nods running out and closing the door. a wave of relief washes over you. jj is fine. jj is okay. jj is safe. he can't hurt jj anymore.

your not fine. your not okay. your not safe. he can keep hurting you. you turn around. he's standing right behind you. he's looking down at you. he's standing tall. his eyes are on you. his expression is dark. his eyes are empty. not a single thought behind his eyes. you were wrong. his eyes without a single thought behind them is scarier. because now you know, there's nothing really stopping him. there's no determination. there's no commitment. there's absolutely nothing behind those eyes. those eyes that are just about to do you harm.

“ me looking down on you…does this remind you of anything?” he says tilting his head to the side smiling. you shake your head. but oh boy do you know exactly what he’s talking about. your dad. “ oh right sorry. let me do something that will surely make you remember.” he says chuckling. he crouches down. he punches you right in the eye, your left eye. the one with the healed over stitches. you stiffen at his touch. not just because your scared of him. yeah of course your scared of him. but also because you’ve never had someone touch you in such an intimate place. you’ve never had someone grab your cheek and gently caress your scars.

he starts laughing. " oh my god let me see that" he gently grabs your cheek. tilting your head up towards him. he runs his finger on the scar. " he did that didnt he?" he whispers gently rubbing the scar. " he gave you this scar didnt he? i read it.. in one of your hospital records. he gave you this 2 weeks before he left right?" he whispers gently caressing the scar. your shaky hands reaches for his cheek.

he stiffens at your touch. he's just like you. " he gave this to you..right?" you whisper, gently caressing the cut on his lips. scott nods. " you and me.we are the same y/n. we both grew up in the same households. we both put up the same abuse. we..we are meant for each other y/n. your meant for me. and i'm meant for you." he whispers caressing your cheek gently. you nod.

" yeah.yeah we belong together." you mumble nodding gently.

i thought so too..until i saw a picture of you and your co worker spencer reid together." he whispers softly still smiling. your eyes widen. " w-what." you mumble. he chuckles, " yeah.i saw a picture of you two together. it was when you and your team were working that case in chicago." he whispers tightening his grip on your cheek. you shake your head.

" s-spencer? spencer reid? he-he means absolutely nothing to me." you say gently reaching for his hand. " don't lie to me." he whispers tearing up. " i'm not lying to you scott." you whisper rubbing your thumb gently against his arm. " your lying to

me. all you do is lie. your just like him." he whispers tears rolling down his cheeks. " i'm not like him scott." you whisper shaking your head, trying to calm him.

" your just like him.you lying bitch." he shakes his head standing up, forcefully pulling you up with him. his fingers dig deeply into your cheeks, surely 100% going to leave a mark. but who cares at this point.

" scott just listen to me-' he cuts your desperate cries with a punch to the mouth. you fall down to the floor, on purpose however. you want him to think your weak. your worn out. he can easily control you. he can easily throw you around like a rag doll. so he can feel some sense of confidence and have a sense of control. something he probably never experienced.

"i'm not listening to you. now you listen to me. you... you listen to me y/n. we are both the same person. we deserve absolutely nothing. we deserve everything our fathers did to us-"

" you know that's not true scott." someone speaks up from behind scott. their voice is strong and stern. it brings you comfort. never would you have thought, laying on the floor with blood dripping down your chin that the sound of someone's voice would bring you comfort. your heart feels warm. you can feel the familiarity of having control over your body come back. you smile. how could you be smiling at a time like this? your smiling. really hard while looking down at the floor. you refused to look up at scott. you refuse to do so.

because deep down you know you would be staring at the version of yourself that's buried deep inside you. that part inside you that keeps you wondering everyday, if you didn't take the path you took would you be like that. would you have done the same thing he had done? what makes him so different from you. just because you carry an id that gives you power over any normal civilian and a gun that's supposed to protect you and others. that doesn't make you any different though. because even though you have those things, you still think like scott. what if you truly don't deserve anyone in this world that would treat you with respect? what if you truly deserve someone as messed up as fucked up ad you are? because then they wouldn't understand right? they wouldn't understand how your mind works. but..like scott said. you probably deserve someone like scott, someone so sick and twisted-

why are you like this. why are you taking his words to heart. are you really that desperate and pathetic that you start taking an unsubs words to heart just because he shared an intimate moment with you. why? is it because you never in your life had experienced something like that and now you yearn for it? you start to believe every word he's said. your so naive. and your so vain. how can you be so gullible. why are you the way that you are. none of what scott said is true. none of it, absolutely none of it.

your too preoccupied with your brain breaking you down too notice two people coming over to you. your zoning out. your thinking hard. really hard. something like this requires a lot of thinking. but it shouldn't though. your supposed to just shrug off his words. not pay any mind to them. he's a mentally ill unsub who's murdered 5 women. nothing he says should make you reason with his thinking. there's nothing to reason with. he's insane. your not insane. your not insane. your just a girl who's seen some insane things.

" hey. your okay. i got you." morgan says gently grabbing you by the arms. "i got you y/n." he whispers picking you up gently. you stand up looking at the wall infront of you still zoned out. " hey y/n." emily pats your shoulder gently tilting her head to the side looking at you with such pain. you shake your head and look at both of them. " hi emily." you respond looking at emily blinking repeatedly. " hey you." she says smiling. " we've gotta get you to the ambulance come on y/n." morgan says wrapping his arms around you, pushing you into him.

" j-i don't need medical care morgan." you say trying to push your heavy head away but finding it way too hard. he feels too comfortable. too comforting. he feels too nice. his cologne smells masculine. really masculine. why is it comforting? why does it bring you comfort? you close your tired eyes for a second. " hey hey don't close your eyes on me I/n." morgan says tilting his head around to take a look at you, you shake your head softly. " i'm not dying morgan." you groan.

emily chuckles. " morgan's probably enjoying this." emily says wrapping up arm around her shoulder helping you walk, " cant have derek enjoying himself too much we all know how cocky he'll get and how high his ego will sky rocket." emily adds on looking at you smiling. her words make you chuckle. a painful chuckle. when your lips curve to let out a laugh a wave of pain washes over your face. "ow ow." you chuckle closing your eyes. morgan shakes his head,

"yeah you wish you can have a bit of this ego." morgan replies.

rossi opens the house door. his eyes immediately look to you. " it's alright i've got her." he says running to you. " derek go take care of reid he's in the ambulance." rossi says putting his gun away. morgan slowly and gently lets you go. rossi quickly replaces morgan. your head immediately shoots up. that hurt. you didn't even know you could do that. why did your head shoot up so quickly? just a second ago you were leaning into morgan for support because you couldn't bare to hold your head up and now suddenly you have all the energy in the world to shoot your head up.

"w-wait whys reid in the ambulance?" you ask your eyes wide, your pretty sure your eyes are half closed though. you can't bare to hold them open. you can already feel your left eye bruising. you can taste blood in your mouth. and you know there's blood dripping down from your eyebrows, from the healed over stitch. rossi and emily push you forward helping you walk. why aren't they answering you? what happened to reid? whys he in an ambulance? is he injured? what's wrong with spencer? what happened to spence? " i think that's a question he should answer." rossi says. what does that mean?

your quickly brought out of the house, thank god. you feel like if you spent another second in there you would go ballistic and break down crying. your heads down, your too tired. you see a pair of shoes infront of you. who's shoes are those? who is that? and why did they stop right infront of you? it's not spencer. spence would never wear those shoes. he was wearing converse earlier. dark blue converse. why do you remember all of this? don't you have some sort of concussion? how do you remember what pair of shoes spencer wore? god...

you feel emily and rossi's grip weaken around you. the unfamiliar person infront of you reaches forward and takes you. they lead you away from rossi and emily. your too tired to even care. they lean you against them. " where's...what's wrong with dr spencer reid?" you mumble stumbling in their hood barely having the energy to hold yourself up. " it's alright i°ve got you. here." they sit you down on something. there's bright red lights flashing around you. an ambulance.

" ma'am i'm gonna get an IV bag started is that alright with you?" the medic asks opening a cabinet. you nod your head hazily. you lean your head against the walls of the ambulance. he takes your arm rolling your sleeve up. you feel the soft pinch. your thankful for it though. it's stopping you from dissociating and falling asleep. you don't wanna fall asleep until someone tells you why spencer is in an ambulance. why do you care for him? why do you care for him after everything's he said- oh right. after what he's said. why do you care for him after he just publicly embarrassed you? that's so stupid. why are you so pathetic and desperate. did he publicly embarrass you? half of the team probably already knew. it's not that hard to figure out. it’s probably why you are the way that you are. they’re profilers. of course they would figure that out. what he said was true. they all probably agree. oh god..

" let me go! let me go! i don't need medical attention she needs it more than me! let me see her!" you hear a voice shout from the distance, you recognise it. your heartbeat quickens. not like earlier though. not in the way your heartbeat quickened earlier. that was in fear. no. this. this is in relief. your stomach starts to stir. in nervousness. your still leaning your head against the wall, but your looking down. your hair covering your face. you stop hearing his voice.

" ma'am i need you to lift your head up." the medic says gently placing a tray next to you, a tray your guessing is full of medical supplies and alcohol. you softly nod your head sitting up. the medic grabs one of the medical instrument opening the wrapping. he moves to the side to quickly put on gloves.

“ oh my god y/n..” you hear him say your name, in so so much pain. he sounds so upset. is he in pain? why does he sound so upset. what happened to him. is he okay. you look up. you see him. you look into his eyes. and suddenly all the words he’s said earlier rush buck into your clouded messy mind. but they don’t hurt as much. your so used to men blurting out hurtful words to you and you having to get over them, what else do you do? ask them to apologise? expect them to apologise?

no. they don’t do that. they’ve never done that. best thing to do is just get over it, because you probably deserve it right? that’s what you were taught.

he looks tired. his eye bags look darker than what they usually would look like. his hair is messier then usual. the two buttons on his dark blue vest are unbuttoned. he’s wearing his fbi vest. his dark blue pants have wet stains on the side of them. your guessing because he would repeatedly wipe his sweaty hands on them. a habit he has when he’s nervous.

he looks into your eyes. he sees the bruise that's already forming in your eye. the trail of blood rolling down your eyebrow from what he can see, that scar you have. you have blood rolling down the side of your face. your neck is red. an imprint of a hand already appearing. his heart hurts. it hurts so much. seeing you like this. but how dare he right?

how dare he feel pain in his heart? the pain your feeling physically and mentally is probably 10x worse than what he’s feeling. he wishes he was feeling it though, he wishes that right in this second all your pain would be transferred to him. add it on to his pain. he feels so guilty. you don’t deserve this. this is his fault. this is his fault. this is all his fault. your never gonna look him in the eye again. whenever you do your gonna remember this day. and how much pain he put you through. he hates it. he hates it so much. he hates himself so much.

"y-y/n." he's out of breath. he doesn't know where to start. he didn't have time to think of an apology, spending the entire car ride panicking nervous about you and wether you were safe or not. but now he can't think of anything.

he can't think of anything when looking into your eyes, the only thing he's thinking of is how badly he wishes he can go back in time and prevent all of this from happening. or make all of this happen but only put himself in your shoes. make him go through all this pain instead of you. You don't deserve this. you don't deserve him. you don't deserve his stupid apology that's about to come, that is if he can even muster up an apology right now. you deserve so much better than him.

"y/n i'm so sorry." spencer starts shaking his head his eyes wide. he can't think of anything. his iq of 187 has suddenly dropped down to 20. spencer who seemed to never stop his rambling suddenly can't think of a single thing to ramble on. you just made him stupid. and not in the way it's supposed to be. you make him stupid when you smile at him. not like this. he can't think of anything. he doesn't know where to start. he shakes his head.

" god can't you do your job!" spencer snaps grabbing a medical wipe and pouring saline solution on it. he stands infront of you. his angry demeanour quickly vanishes once his infront of you. something just hit him. he freezes infront of you. it's like all the color, the little color he already had in his face has drained.

you look at him in confusion. all though your upset at him it doesn't stop you from caring and growing concerned. " w-what?" you say blinking repeatedly looking at him. hes still looking at you. his lips part. he blinks repeatedly. he shakes his head.

"i-i'm just..i got scared." he stutters his voice cracking. " why?" you ask tilting your head to the side. " i'm scared your gonna flinch once i touch you." he replies quickly. really quickly. any normal person wouldn't catch it. but you did. vou've learnt to keep up with spencer's quick rambling. oh. oh. whys he so considerate? y/n stop. you can think that. you look down at your thighs. unable to think of anything to say. if he did touch you. would you have flinched? would you have reacted? you don't know. but spencer's not him. right?

" i'm not gonna flinch spencer." you say looking up at him. he nods his head gulping, "a-alright." he says. he lifts his shaky hand up. he gently dabs the medical wipe on your cut. disinfecting it. ouch it burns. your nails dig into the palm of your hand. his eyes are stuck on the cut. the scar. he knows where it's from. he might've been with garcia when she did her usual background snooping on new members of the team 2 years ago. he remembers how guilty he felt after it. finding out about such a dark part of your life without your knowledge or permission.

but that guilt doesn't compare to the guilt he's feeling right now. he feels tremendously guilty, he caused the scar to re open. all because of his foolishness. if he just shut his mouth earlier and wasn't such a smart ass. if he maybe was the one to go with you to scott anderson's house and not jj he would've been able to protect you. he probably would've shot scott anderson the second he would've laid his hands on vou.

he doesn't trust himself aorund vou. atleast not from the harm of unsubs and has the need to shoot any of them if they ever did you harm. he would probably lose his job. if he was there he probably would've lost his job. but he doesn't care. for your safety. he doesn't care.

" i'm so sorry y/n-" you can feel the medical wipe shake on your eyebrow, from spencer's shaky hands.

" it's fine spencer." you mumble looking into his eyes. is it fine though? is it really fine? whys he apologising? he's not supposed to be apologising right? this is new. this is so very new. they never apologise after hurting you. this is so unfamiliar? how are you supposed to react? do you tell them how you really feel? do you immediately accept their apology? they never apologised to you when they hurt you. whys spencers apologising? what do you say?

" it's not fine y/n. i-i hurt you. i c-caused this." he says spitting his words out in a shaky manner. what do you say or do? you've never made it this far whenever something similar to this happened in the past.

" spencer it's fine. i shouldn't have egged you on earlier anyways-" why are you taking the blame. y/ n stop. it's not your fault. it never is your fault when something like this happens. y/n please. it's not your fault. stop taking the blame. his heart aches even more. his throat feels heavy. who hurt you like this? who broke your heart like this? who messed up your image of love like this? who hurt you this bad. he hates them. he hates them for making you like this.

" y/n i know you have the personal need to justify everything i've said but y/n stop, just stop. i hurt you okay. and even though saying that out loud and accepting the fact that i said that it thr worst thing i've ever done in my entire life it's nothing compared to what you felt when i said that. i don't wanna be like him y/n. i don't wanna be him. i don't want you to think i can be him. i don't want you to see him everytime you see me y/n. because that would kill me even more. y-you don't have to talk to me anymore y/n i just don't want you to flinch or have this horrible feeling of rememberence whenever you see me. please just.. just don't take the blame for this because it's my fault. this entire thing was my fault and i put you through this y/n. you don't deserve this. i'm really sorry.”

spencer rambles. trying to push the heavy feeling in his throat away. he can't cry. he doesn't deserve to cry right now. he's nervous though. he's nervous about what your gonna say. he doesn’t have the right to feel nervous though. he should accept whatever it is. he did this to himself. whatever the outcome is. he just hopes you don’t have a sense of fear wash over you whenever you look at him and get memories of this day. that is if you ever look at him after this day.

no one's ever said that to you. you feel your tired eyes tear up. your about to cry. oh no. spencer panics. does he comfort you? do you even want his comfort? he doesn't deserve to touch you, he thinks. he drops the medical wipe.

" n-no please don't cry. ill go call

over emily or jj or morgan or hotch just p-please dont cry. i'll go-" it physically aches him to leave you like this. but he has to. he doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable. he just made you cry. you must really hate him. he understands though. he just wishes you understand how sorry he is. but you probably will never know. because you probably don't expect him to feel sorry, you probably think he's faking it. he just needs you to understand that he's not him. he's not your dad. spencer actually feels sorry. he feels so so sorry for everything he's done and said. but you had to put up with years of your dad taking apologises you probably don't believe his. he hates himself.

you stand up. you barely have room to think clearly before a tear rolls down your cheek. spencer immediately removes his fbi vest, you bury your head against spencer's chest. you wrap your hands against his chest. he doesn't wrap his hands around you though. he's scared to touch you. your not sobbing. your too tired to sob. you just let tears slowly roll down your cheeks. " your not him spencer." you say out loud. spencer's heart skips a beat. he slowly wraps his hands around you. " i'm still mad at you. you shouldn't have said that earlier. b-but i forgive you spence." you mumble against his chest. he shakes his head, " you shouldn't forgive me y/n. your supposed to be mad at me. your supposed to be yelling at me. or-or hitting me." he says.

" i am mad at you spencer." you say pulling your head away wiping the tears.

"alright. good." he says

looking down at you. " oh god- im sorry that was stupid i shouldn't have hugged you-" you immediately start apologising shaking your head. you immediately sit back down. oh god your so stupid. why did you just hug him? your so embarrasing oh god. did you feel the need to hug spencer because you just needed to make sure that spencer wasn't him.

not that you would know what your dads embrace would feel like. but you just needed to make sure.

" no please don't apologise. d-do you mind if i sit next to you?" spencer asks pointing at the space next to you. you look at him and slowly nod your heart. he sits next to you. " once ive healed i'm yelling at you spencer." you say looking down at your legs, your tired eyes aching. " alright." spencer says nodding. you should yell at him. and you will. he had no right. but your too tired right now. you just hope. you really really hope that spencer doesn't spiral once your back in quantico and probably will forcefully be taken into the hospital by emily and jj. you really hope he doesn't drown himself in guilt and spiral. why are you so caring? does spencer care about you the way you care about him? that's foolish right? he wouldn't right? does he feel his heart quicken when he sees you? does he care the way you care? that's stupid god y/n you probably have a concussion just shut up.

yeah how stupid y/n. because if you knew the way spencer cared about you or the way his heart quickens when he sees you. you wouldn't believe it. it will take time though. it will take time for you to believe it. he's willing to work hard during that time. he just hopes you know even the slightest bit. but he wont say anything right now. you've already been through enough. he wont say anything for a while. though when the time is right. maybe you'll finally know how much he cares about you. for now, he'll settle for this just for now. until he can gain your trust back and make his feelings known. he'll settle for this. because just being next to you makes him happy.

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[honeyfartfacial]

SPENCER REID WORK IS COMING YALL

[honeyfartfacial]

heyy I’m back!! sorry i literally went thru hell n back but I’m here now babes.

[honeyfartfacial]

YALL NO I POSTED THE WRONG ONE I WROTE TWO 💔 I POSTED THE ONE THAT WOULD HAVE A PART 3 MY BAD 💀💀

[honeyfartfacial]

PART 2 IS IN THE MAKING MY PRETTIES 🥰