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atlabeth · 4 days

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pretty boy

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer walks in one day with a new look. you handle it pretty well.

a/n: im in the opposite of a writing slump right now (will prob fall into a writing slump right after i say this) probably because im procrastinating on essays for school and i can only write when im meant to be doing work. but tiny little fluffy spencer one shots are very good for the soul right now. i think it's my way of healing from my hotch fic

wc: 1.8k

warning(s): one slightly sexual joke from emily. all fluff

You usually don’t get to the office this early, but you don’t exactly have a choice. The BAU’s last couple cases have all run one after another, barely leaving you any time in the office, and now you’re paying for it.

You’ve got a mountain of paperwork to get through and not nearly enough time to do it all—if you’re lucky, you’ll be writing reports for a few days straight. If you’re not, you’ll be putting in some overtime.

“This is the most focused I’ve ever seen you this early,” Derek comments.

You shake your head with a sigh. “These reports are government mandated torture.”

He chuckles, and he nods at Emily as she walks over to her desk. “Are you this busy?”

She shakes her head. “I’ve still got a report to get through, but nothing that bad.”

“I get it,” you say wryly. “You’re all more organized than me. Just don’t come to me asking to go out tonight—you know I can’t say no.”

“But don’t shots taste better when you’re supposed to be doing work?” Derek asks, and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“Not when I’ve got this much work I’m supposed to be doing.”

You hear the elevator ding and glance up—Spencer’s walking through and fixing his tie. You look back down at your report as you greet him.

“Hey, Spence,” you call. “Why’re you late?”

“I’m not late,” he says, and you can see him checking his watch out of your peripherals. “I’m two minutes and thirty-three seconds early.”

“Really?” you muse. “I guess I’m just so used to you being here before me.”

“You can’t judge my timeliness on yours when you’ve been here for an hour already,” Spencer says.

You frown, tapping your pen against the paper. “How do you know?”

“You’re settled in already. Your coat’s on your chair, your stack of unfinished files is smaller than it was last time we were in the office, your coffee isn’t steaming, and your mug has a chipped handle—when they were put away last night, that one was set in the front, so you’d have to be here early to get it.”

“Touche,” you murmur. You’re not sure why you ever ask your team of profilers how they know something.

“You also look like you don’t want to be here,” he comments. “That’s pretty typical of agents who have to be here before their regular hours.”

You chuckle and tilt your head in admission. You don’t really want to be here, especially running on so few hours of sleep.

“Why aren’t you as early as usual?” Emily asks.

“My neighbor knocked on my door this morning to ask me for something,” Spencer says. “It threw off my whole routine. I picked the wrong tie, I couldn’t pack my bag properly, and I had to toast my bagel for two minutes instead of three and a half to make it out in time.”

“How terrible,” Derek says with mock austerity.

“It is terrible!” he exclaims. “It’s scientifically proven that a morning routine makes you happier, more energized, and ready to seize the day—carpe diem.” Spencer sets his bag on the floor next to his desk and looks at everyone else with a smile. “Did you know that phrase was actually coined by the Roman poet Horace in his Odes? It comes from the first book out of four in the eleventh poem—the full phrase in Latin is carpe diem, quam mini—”

“How was your bagel?” Emily asks to interrupt him, and he pauses.

“It was good,” he says. “Could’ve been toastier.”

You look up, a teasing remark on the edge of your tongue, but the words die in your throat when you actually see him.

Spencer’s started combing a hand through his hair to fix it—must have been another part of his affected morning routine—his lips set in a pout as he tries to see his reflection in his dark monitor. He always looks good, even without trying, but now—

“You’re wearing glasses,” you say dumbly.

“My contacts dried out,” he grumbles, still focused on his hair. “We got home so late last night I forgot to put them in their solution, and I had no time to fix them because my neighbor messed up my whole morning.”

You nod, still unable to tear your eyes away from him. “Are you gonna keep wearing them?”

“I don’t know. Contacts are better for cases because I’m not worried about them falling off or fogging up, but I usually sleep on the jet on the way back, and sleeping with contacts in isn’t good.” He smiles a bit as he fully turns to you, seemingly satisfied with his hair. “It reduces the amount of oxygen that gets to your cornea, which damages the cornea’s surface and makes it harder to regenerate new cells. Sleeping with contacts actually makes you six to eight times more likely to get an eye infection.”

You nod again, your brain still not quite working at full power. You always love listening to Spencer’s fact dumps—it gives you a lot of material to impress your non-BAU friends with on the side, and you’re eternally thankful for that—but right now, you seriously cannot focus.

You’d never really thought about him in glasses, but that’s probably a good thing if this is how it makes you feel.

You were valedictorian as an undergrad, and you received stellar feedback from your professors during your masters program. You’re an excellent profiler, a valued member of the BAU, and you’re a goddamn FBI agent.

And yet you can’t find a single thought in your head because your coworker showed up to work wearing glasses.

He’s still rambling about other common causes of eye infection and how nobody seems to take them as seriously as they should, when Derek, not even trying to hide his grin at your turmoil, speaks up.

“Reid. Wanna cool it a bit?”

Spencer’s eyes dart over to him for a moment before he stops. “Uh— sorry.” He frowns as he looks back at you. “Why do you ask? Do you not like them?”

“No,” you blurt out, and you shake your head a multitude of times. “No. They look great. You look great. They’re—” You dig your nails hard into your palm as you try your hardest to smile like normal, and this time you nod. “They’re good, Spence.”

“Thanks.” Spencer does that little smile-nod combo of his, and he pushes his glasses back into place with his thumb by the bottom of the frames. “That’s nice to know I’ve got another option.”

You thank whatever god may be out there that Hotch and Penelope are busy in their offices and JJ is busy with some other case, because you think you would die if anyone else saw you like this.

“Hey, Reid,” Emily says, also not doing a very good job of hiding her amusement. You hate your team sometimes. “They’re almost out of sugar in the breakroom. If you want coffee the way you like it this morning, you should probably get in there.”

“What?” Spencer shoots up, his brows already furrowing into a frown. “That— that’s ridiculous. I can’t mess up my morning any more.”

“You’d better get in there, then,” she remarks.

“We’re an entire office of agents running on coffee,” Spencer complains as he starts walking. “How are we almost out of sugar?”

“Because half of ‘em drink it black,” Derek says, and Spencer shakes his head with a sigh as he leaves.

“That’s ridiculous.”

You bury your head in your hands the moment he’s gone and Derek laughs. “I wish I could’ve gotten that on video.”

“Don’t talk to me,” you groan. “It is not fair of him to walk in like that.”

“And that is why I call him pretty boy.”

“He needs them to see,” Emily says with amusement as she leans against the side of your desk. “You just can’t control yourself.”

“I need to transfer offices,” you say, shaking your head. “I can’t do this.”

“You should ask him out!” Derek encourages. “He’d probably say yes.”

“Absolutely not,” you insist. “I doubt he likes me like that. A— and even if he does, that’s the last thing either of us need right now.”

“I don’t know,” Emily muses. “It looks like you clearly need something.”

You let out a frustrated noise as you screw your eyes shut. “I’m doomed.”

You hear Spencer say your name, and when you look over at him, one hand still pressed against your head, you see he’s got two cups of coffee in his hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you say weakly. “I’m great. Why?”

“I got you one too,” he says, holding one of the mugs out to you. “The one you have is probably cold by now, and it looks like you need an extra kick to get through all those reports.”

“Thanks, Spence. That’s sweet.” He nods as you take the proffered mug, and you swear your cheeks are as warm as the coffee. He is really testing your strength today.

“You— you have a lot,” he says, and you huff a dry laugh and nod. “I’m not trying to be sarcastic. I could take half of them if you want?”

Your grip tightens on the mug and you can feel Derek’s eyes on you. “I couldn’t make you do that, Spence.”

“You’re not!” Spencer exclaims. “I can get through mine really quickly—we worked together for almost the whole last case so I can do all of that anyways.”

“...You’re sure it wouldn’t be an imposition?”

“I’m sure,” he nods. “Besides, I offered. I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.”

And god damn him, because he nudges his glasses back into place again, pushes a strand of loose hair back into place. You’re dying over here.

You set the mug of coffee on your desk and pick up the top half of your pile. “All yours, Spence.”

He takes the bottom half and smiles at you, and you smile back before he walks back to his desk. You are dying over here.

“Let me know how I can pay you back,” you say, and he shakes his head.

“You don’t need to pay me back.”

“Really?”

Spencer nods. “I mean, Morgan invited us all out on the jet last night, and I don’t think I can do it alone. If you can get out of the office in time, I don’t have to. I think that's enough of a payback.”

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll be there.”

He smiles again and nods, then he picks up a pen and focuses in. You turn back to your desk, your face burning.

“What was that about him not liking you like that?” Derek says.

“Quiet!” you whisper-yell, swatting him with the pile of files in your hand. “He might hear you!”

“He’s not hearing anything while he’s focused on that,” he says. “That just means you can ogle him more.”

You groan again, letting your forehead fall into your palm. “I’m pathetic.”

“I think you’re right.” Emily chuckles as she stands up. “You are doomed.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #x reader #sadie writes

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coffeeflavored-tears · 1 year

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it is 12am, i am done writing poem. cant sleep yet tho i still have to do the visual shit and wash clothes for tomorrow

#might just not sleep #cuz i need to paint the bad cut out the part of the bag print the label stickers of the poem #put them on a sheet of paper(preferably blue painted) put a yellow sheet behind it so that it looks like a fire #and all in 6 hours #my post

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worldendsonvhs · 2 years

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#breathing in a paper bag now my GOD #the why of you a radiant devilfish!!!#poetry #poem #but i got saved by poetry

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sxsilly2 · 2 months

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ed distractions

all of this is from distractions.carrd.co!!

out and about - ☆ people-watch ☆ sit outside ☆ go window shopping ☆ try out clothes w/o buying them ☆ get a mani/pedi ☆ cloud-watch ☆ make a shopping list ☆ go on a shopping spree ☆ find a new location in your city to visit on google maps ☆ go stargazing ☆ go to the library ☆ go thrifting ☆ pick flowers ☆ go to a new coffee shop you haven’t been to ☆ go camping ☆ go to a museum ☆ go to a park and draw people walking by ☆ see a movie in theaters

moving - ☆ play tennis ☆ ride your bike ☆ go swimming ☆ make your own workouts ☆ swing ☆ make a playlist of workouts ☆ climb something ☆ go for a jog ☆ take a walk ☆ go hiking ☆ do some yoga ☆ do your work out routine ☆ pilates ☆ stretch

creative - ☆ draw, add a pos over it and draw all over again ☆ make a collage out of book pages ☆ make flower arrangements ☆ style your school uniform ☆ copy celebrities’ signature looks w things in your closet ☆ draw many puzzle pieces ☆ make your own zentangles ☆ create your own signature symbol ☆ dry flowers and make a flower diary ☆ learn to crochet ☆ make gift cards for your friends ☆ make a google docs template ☆ copy tattoos w a marker ☆ make stickers ☆ create your own digital museum ☆ make friendship bracelets ☆ make a diy bath bomb ☆ make a movie ☆ tye dye a t-shirt ☆ make playlists for moments ☆ write a letter ☆ decorate an envelope ☆ write jokes ☆ scribble and turn it into a drawing ☆ splash paint onto paper ☆ try to recreate art ☆ recreate notion/carrd pages you see online ☆ make a graphic novel ☆ build a fantasy world ☆ draw a map ☆ draw a webtoon ☆ decorate a notebook ☆ collect dried leaves ☆ make tattoo ideas ☆ do commissions ☆ draw pixel art ☆ make powerpoint templates ☆ make a subliminal playlist ☆ make edits of ppl ☆ make a notion template ☆ write a cringey wattpad novel ☆ write fanfiction ☆ decorate flower pots ☆ paint your phone case ☆ make diets for your fav characters ☆ write a love // hate letter ☆ make lyrics out of random words ☆ paint rocks ☆ decorate a hat ☆ cut out your clothes to make new ones ☆ up-cycle thrifted clothes ☆ draw on your wall ☆ make a bullet journal ☆ doodle on anything around you ☆ memorize a poem/song ☆ come up w original thread ideas ☆ make jewelry ☆ make soap ☆ crochet // knit ☆ draw a self-portrait ☆ draw w your eyes closed ☆ scrapbook ☆ paint some cloth ☆ animate something ☆ start a dream journal ☆ start a blog ☆ bake a cake ☆ cook something new ☆ create new outfits ☆ color ☆ learn origami ☆ draw an original character and give them their own backstory ☆ color-code your google calendar ☆ draw your dream home in detail ☆ paint on a canvas bag ☆ make a jar filled w movie titles and pull one out randomly to watch ☆ start your own private instagram account as a digital diary ☆ write a screenplay ☆ direct your own movie ☆ make lists

educational - ☆ research a random topic (then make a presentation on it) ☆ learn all the countries on a certain continent ☆ learn all countries’ capitals ☆ educate yourself ☆ catch up on current events ☆ go on a study space and study ☆ join a google classroom ☆ take a masterclass ☆ sign up for a course ☆ practice public speaking ☆ finish your assignments ☆ improve your memory ☆ memorize things ☆ organize your notes ☆ learn a new study technique ☆ learn morse code ☆ annotate a book ☆ learn curse words in other languages ☆ learn how to play an instrument ☆ pick up a new skill ☆ learn some psychology tips ☆ learn some cool facts ☆ learn a new language on duolingo ☆ learn about finances

hang out with yourself - ☆ induce a glow-up ☆ induce your honeymoon phase ☆ choose a signature smell ☆ interview yourself ☆ write about your day ☆ figure out a crisis you’ve been having ☆ romanticize your life ☆ get a signature look ☆ get on another twt side ☆ use subliminals ☆ put all your thoughts on paper ☆ decorate your personal journal ☆ watch a childhood movie ☆ go through your old playlists ☆ discover a hidden talent ☆ ask yourself weird questions ☆ write a love poem to yourself ☆ make a goal list ☆ create a vision board ☆ make a time capsule ☆ look at old photos ☆ write a will ☆ practice gratitude ☆ declutter your phone ☆ practice meditation ☆ make an online quiz about yourself ☆ create a five-year plan ☆ plan out your week ☆ write three short-term goals ☆ work on current goals ☆ use a body scrub ☆ do a hair mask ☆ take yourself out on a date ☆ plan YOU days ☆ journal your feelings ☆ write letters to your future self ☆ make a top-10 list of your fav anything ☆ examine your birth chart ☆ color or cut your hair ☆ start a happiness jar ☆ write down your manifestations // affirmations ☆ watch self-improvement videos ☆ give yourself a spa day ☆ update your resume

social life - ☆ facetime your friends ☆ interview someone ☆ do a virtual meet-up w friends ☆ get a penpal ☆ learn about recent drama ☆ boost your socials ☆ talk on spaces w your moots ☆ volunteer ☆ contact an old friend ☆ plan a meet-up w friends ☆ call a relative ☆ plan fun outings // themed nights for you and your friends ☆ hug someone

at-home - ☆ take a cold shower ☆ re-organize your bathroom ☆ try on your clothes ☆ take a bubble bath ☆ visit a digital museum ☆ paint your nails ☆ do a movie/book/game marathon ☆ clear out your closet ☆ drink water ☆ put together a skincare routine ☆ go through your emails ☆ use a bath bomb ☆ do a face mask ☆ plan your meals ☆ re-arrange your books ☆ clean your room ☆ have a picnic on the floor ☆ stick pictures to your walls ☆ organize your drawers ☆ redecorate your room ☆ clean your makeup brushes ☆ declutter your makeup ☆ organize your photos ☆ clean your electronics ☆ do your laundry ☆ take a nap ☆ make a fort ☆ clean your desk area ☆ print posters and decorate your walls ☆ brush your teeth ☆ back up your laptop and phone ☆ update your passwords ☆ clean your car

just for fun - ☆ pretend you’re vlogging ☆ plan a trip ☆ copy ppl’s insta stories ☆ pretend you’re a model ☆ plant a flower/tree ☆ play uno or another card game ☆ play scrabble ☆ make a tournament of a game like “true american” in new girl ☆ make an amazon list ☆ learn dances ☆ do a makeup tutorial ☆ play loud music ☆ do buzzfeed quizzes ☆ read a webtoon ☆ look at memes ☆ look at thinspo ☆ make a youtube channel ☆ watch vlogs ☆ count your money ☆ discover new makeup styles ☆ tweet something stupid ☆ google yourself ☆ read fanfiction ☆ find new music ☆ write online reviews ☆ read shein reviews ☆ sing karaoke ☆ play never have i ever ☆ play with bubbles ☆ try to rap ☆ recreate your fav movie scenes ☆ make a shrine ☆ make a treasure hunt ☆ play chess // checkers w yourself ☆ start a controversy over a stupid topic ☆ donate some money ☆ learn to hula-hoop ☆ do a sudoku ☆ save tweets to your bookmarks ☆ make a tbr list ☆ go through old ana forums ☆ take a survey ☆ make a wishlist for when you reach your ugw ☆ make an elaborate conspiracy theory ☆ play w legos ☆ start a new show ☆ make a new playlist ☆ listen to a podcast ☆ surf pinterest ☆ read a book ☆ make a bucket list ☆ shop online ☆ sell clothes online ☆ test out a new hairstyle ☆ look up recipes online ☆ watch true crime ☆ watch a rom-com ☆ play video games ☆ redo your phone layout to a new theme ☆ watch a yt documentary ☆ start your own cult ☆ try dimension shifting ☆ record your own videos of you talking to yourself ☆ re-organize your pinterest account and all your boards ☆ scream into a pillow ☆ go through the app store and look for cool apps

#ed male #male ed #tw disordered eating #tw restriction #ana trigger #tw ed but not sheeran #tw restrictive ed #tw ana diary #tw ed diet #starv1ng #ed not sheeren #ed not ed sheeran

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earthtooz · 2 months

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in which: you need to make it to liyue harbour in time so you can give kazuha a piece of your mind and a response to his love letter.

cw: fluff, 1.3k words, not too sure how canon accurate this is, potentially ooc-kazuha, gn!reader from inazuma, confessions, two wholesome idiots in love

a/n: for my little sibling @sixosix, i hope you enjoy

Liyue, out of all regions in Teyvat, is the hardest to run through.

It’s mountainous, your muscles will ache from going uphill, your ankles will be sore the next day from going too fast downhill. It’s grassy, the gravel is rough against the soles of your feet, and there is an abundance of hillichurls and samachurls waiting for you with their clubs and shields. Yet, they provide more motivation for you to outrun them, speeding right by their camps to get to Liyue Harbour in time.

Stupid Kaedehara Kazuha, when you see him, he’s in for an earful from you. Making you run from Lingju Pass all the way back to the Harbour, doesn’t he know how much you despise running for long periods of time?

A break is not plausible, especially when Beidou’s boat could leave the dock at any minute now.

When Liyue’s bustling harbour is in sight, it’s vast oceans appearing out the horizon, you feel like you can breathe. The sunlight glimmering on the ocean cheers you on, and you won’t stop until the waves are underneath your feet, the only thing separating you from them being wooden planks.

You push through crowds, too tired and determined to be polite and apologetic to shoppers you push aside. You run past Mingxing Jewelry, Wanmin Restaurant, and Master Zhang’s workshop, and don’t stop until you, yourself, are climbing onto the Crux. Crew members are shouting in protest at your sudden appearance, yelling at your unexplained entrance.

There are people trying to pull you off the boat, and you don’t really know where the strength to push off burly sailors came from, but you successfully fend off all of them, and find Beidou at the bow of the ship.

“Where is Kazuha?” You demand, decorum be screwed, nothing can stop your momentum now.

Her uncovered eye lights up in amusement, a hint of knowing behind her crimson gaze. “Right behind you.”

Lo and behold, the beige-haired in question was right behind you. “Uh, hello?”

“I have a bone to pick with you, Kazuha!” Stomping over to him, he grabs your wrist before you have another chance to talk, dragging you away from the bow of the ship where all the crewmates were unloading their cargo. (Beidou’s thundering laughter can be heard as he’s dragging you away, at least she’s not mad at your sudden intrusion.)

He stops when the two of you are on the quarter deck and turns to look at you with panic all over his face.

“What did I do?”

From your pocket, you pull out a piece of paper like it’s an incriminating piece of evidence, one that he’s stared at for too long, so much so that he can recall every dip and curve of the dry-pressed leaves he added on for a more personal touch. It has sat on his desk for ages, seen all of his turmoils and frustrations over delivering it to you.

The paper contains a mix of poems, haikus, and different confessions Kazuha has been harbouring in his heart for the past few years, ever since the two of you left Inazuma. Your hand clutching his gloved one as the two of you hurry onto Beidou’s boat with nothing but your visions, weapons, and the clothes on your back.

He has loved you for this entire journey, and words could not surmise the depth of his feelings, let alone a measly piece of paper. Some days, it sees the sun when he dares it to, but it always ends up right back on his desk, waiting for the day that it will leave Kazuha’s possession and fall into yours.

This morning was the exact moment. He slipped it in your bag before you went on your expedition, the two of you meeting for a quiet breakfast before his eight-month long expedition, and your two-week one. He had waved you goodbye as far as he could go before leaving Liyue Harbour, even staying on the outskirts until your group left his sight.

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you so soon, not after putting that letter in your backpack.

“You’re a coward!” You accuse immediately, poking your finger to his chest. “A lousy coward!”

He takes it, knows that he should have just braved his fears and handed it to you in person, but the idea of being rejected on the spot causes his chest to ache in unbearable ways. The samurai rather you read it, then have eight months to prepare for your inevitable rejection.

Yet, he should have known that in the face of a storm, you are the only one brave enough to fight against the waves. Nothing ever goes the way he wants when it’s with you.

“You should probably sit down, Y/n, your legs are shaking and I’ll grab you some-”

Your hands fly up to grab the sleeves of his kimono, whether to stabilise yourself, or to stop him from leaving, or both, he stays. “Kaedehara Kazuha, I like you too,” you declare. “I just ran all the way from Lingju Pass, so I have nothing flowery nor sweet to say like your letter except that you are so very mean for making me come all this way.”

With one last heaved breath, you collapse to your knees. Kazuha, being the gentleman he is, freaks out and mimics your actions, clinging onto your shoulders.

“Y/n!” He calls out, his usually level voice breaching a panicked cry. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this. Stay here, I’ll go grab water water.”

Listening to the samurai, you rest against a nearby pillar, feeling the dull aches in all muscles of your legs. Archons, you’ll feel the pain tenfold tomorrow.

Kazuha returns not too long with a canteen in hand, and he twists it open before handing it to you. After a few beats of tense silence, he speaks up.

“Honestly, I don’t really have anything to say either, I wasn’t expecting to see you for another eight months, and even then, I was expecting a rejection.” He admits sheepishly, a blush blooming along his cheeks. “Maybe an apology for making you run all this way just to see me is my first course of action.”

“Accept my confession first, jerk,” you punch his shoulder lightly, smiling up at him.

“I’ll accept anything so long as it’s from you, I thought I made that clear in my letter.”

“Don’t think you can charm your way into my good graces!”

He thinks it’s adorable that you’re trying to maintain your cool mask despite your inability to look him in the eye, even if he’s hardly faring much better. The usual lyricism of his words have faded, and his quick mind can’t think of anything poetic to say, as if your confession has intercepted all the functions of his brain.

You like him back, you like him back, you like him back, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information except smile like an idiot.

“Are you still going on your expedition?” asks Kazuha. “Your group must be waiting for you.”

“I told them not to, dumped my rations and things with them and told them they could use it. I’m not running all the way back now.”

“Then, does that mean you can join us?”

“I don’t want to intrude, and I don’t know if you have enough things on board for another-”

“-I’m sure Beidou and the crew wouldn’t mind. There are always extra rations, you can have some of mine if it gets to it, and our first stop is at sunset, so we could go and grab some clothes for you to bring along!” He quickly suggests, hope shining brightly in those crimson eyes of his, as if pleading for you to say yes.

The wind blows gently through his beige strands, and the moment feels enchantingly similar to one you had read in an Inazuman poem. Then again, Kazuha always had that effect; the ability to slow time and let you see the world through a different, prettier lens, even if the consequences were completely dire.

You want to continue seeing through his lens, exactly the way you did when both of you fled Inazuma and the Vision hunt Decree. And you want to see the rest of Teyvat the way he does.

“Okay.” You agree, “I’ll come along.”

#CUTIE KAZUHA :((#earthtooz: genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha fluff

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sundrop-writes · 2 months

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Hi! I love your works! I saw your request are open, so I was wondering if I could ask how would Spencer react to the reader fainting into his arms?

I love this request so much. As a POTSie, this is really close to my heart - and idk if this was your intention or not, but I decided to make it that the reader has POTS.

Requests are OPEN

How would Spencer Reid react to you fainting around him?

Warnings: Reader's gender is not described - reader is gender neutral; the reader's looks are not really described either; the reader faints due to a pre-existing medical condition; the reader is mentioned to have POTS; this is Spencer during his Professor era; the reader is also a Professor at the University that Spencer teaches at; this fic uses Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); the reader loses consciousness completely and Spencer attends to them to make sure they are okay; some light fluff/romance; I think that's it? Not really proofread. This could be described as hurt/comfort (I found it very comforting to write) - even if you aren't chronically ill, I encourage you to read and enjoy!!!

...

Spencer didn’t really know you.

Since he had started teaching at the university, he had seen you around many times, and a face like yours - someone as gorgeous as you definitely stuck out in his mind. But he had never formally introduced himself. He could have used the excuse that he was busy preparing his lectures, and racing back and forth to the BAU between those lectures. But even if he hadn't spoken to you, he had been admiring you from afar for a long time.

That was why, when he found a notebook that belonged to you sitting on one of the benches on the quad, he didn’t hesitate to bring it to your office. It needed to be returned to its rightful owner, and that owner was someone he had been secretly admiring for some time now. It was the perfect excuse to introduce himself to you. He thought that sitting on the notebook when he went outside to take his morning coffee break could be considered fate. Especially when he flipped open the cover, looking for some sign of who it belonged to, and he saw your name written on it.

(Did he also flip through the rest of the pages, seeing the poems you had written, along with some beautiful sketches of birds and stills of flowers, and felt his stomach stir even more, realizing that he was falling for you before even talking to you? Maybe. He would have denied it, though.)

He knocked on your door late, on his way out for the day, hoping that you were still there, and he was surprised to find the hinge creaking open underneath his fist.

“Hello?” He called out. “Professor L/N?”

“Oh, come in!” You called back.

Spencer walked in and found the room to be a mess of papers - many open file boxes scattered about the room, with papers scattered everywhere in an utter hurricane of paper.

You were focused on the file box in front of you, a frown knit across your brows as you flipped through them one by one, clearly intently looking for something.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer apologized. “Is this a bad time?”

“Oh, uh-” You finally looked up from your searching, and when you locked eyes with Spencer, you were surprised to find a doe-eyed, curly-haired, incredibly attractive man standing in the middle of your messy office. “I’m sorry. I- you’re that FBI guy, right? Reid?”

You ignored his question in favor of being introduced to him properly - you had heard his name from the mouths of other people; gossip from your colleagues about how a real FBI profiler would be teaching a class about the psychology of serial killers and profiling.

“Yes.” Spencer nodded. “I’m Doctor Spencer Reid. But you can call me Spencer, if you prefer.”

“Spencer.” You repeated back, grinning at him. “I’m Professor L/N, as you said. But you can call me Y/N.”

“Well, Y/N, I just came to return this.” Spencer explained, reaching into his bag and pulling out your notebook.

Your eyes instantly lit up at the sight of it.

“Oh my gosh.” You gasped quietly. “Thank you so much.” You took it back, giving him a grateful smile. “I don’t even know where my head is today, I-”

Spencer gave a small grin as he followed your gaze around the mess you had created in your office.

“I know this looks chaotic, but…” You looked for an excuse. “A student asked me for a copy of an essay they wrote a few years ago as a reference for their thesis. And I thought I had everything well organized. But - apparently my head is just not on very straight.”

The forgetfulness, and your inability to go through the files in an efficient way - the lack of focus, it was only compounded by your pre-existing condition. Which was only made worse by the fact that you had forgotten to eat lunch, and it was well past dinner time now.

“Oh, that’s completely understandable.” Spencer chuckled. “I can help you look through some of these if you want?”

Your hands were shaking as you grasped the notebook and as Spencer became blurry in your vision - you thought about going to sit down in your office chair for a break after it was too late.

“Y/N?”

He became worried when you didn’t respond, when the expression on your face became more distant and he noticed your lips paling from a healthy color.

In the next moment, you were falling.

Spencer rushed to catch you, his instincts kicking in - everything in his body screaming that he needed to keep you from hitting the floor, that he needed to keep you safe. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, and the other arm wrapped around the middle of your back - he was surprised by how heavy your body felt when you were purely dead weight, your body entirely limp as you went completely unconscious, your eyes rolling into the back of your head in a scary way.

He knelt down slowly, taking you down to the floor in the most gentle way possible, not wanting to drop you accidentally and have you hit your head because of his incompetence. The more the seconds ticked on and your eyelids stayed limp, your lips almost purple and your mouth gaped - the more his own heart thumped in his chest with intense fear.

“Hey, hey, come on.” He continued to cradle your head with one hand, but now that you were mostly resting on the floor, he moved his other arm from your back to gently rub across your cheek - hoping to rouse you back to consciousness. “Come on, stay with me. Y/N. Wake up. Please?”

He gently tapped your cheek, no where close to slapping you - but hoping to stimulate your nervous system with touch in some way.

A huge breath of relief sucked through his chest when your eyelids started flickering and your eyes began moving around, clearly searching for something in the room as you regained consciousness. You let out a moan, trying to form words, and Spencer put a gentle hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. Just relax.” He told you, trying to keep his voice calm - trying not to betray any of the anxiety that he was truly feeling.

His first instinct was to call an ambulance - obviously you needed medical attention. What had happened to you? What if it was something serious?

And while he was patting down his pockets for his phone, you let out another moan and lifted one of your limp arms, drawing his attention to the jingle of a medical alert bracelet on your arm.

He shoved his phone back into his pocket and moved to grab the pendant on the bracelet, reading it carefully.

Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome

There was an emergency number listed, but it wasn’t 9-1-1 - Spencer had to guess that it was a family member of yours, or a doctor. So he had to guess that calling an ambulance wasn’t the thing to do. The condition sounded familiar to him - he read medical journals on occasion because he found them to be mentally engaging, and - because of occasions like this; if he could use the information to help someone.

He remembered that it was a condition in which the autonomic nervous system fails to regulate blood flow, resulting in fainting when too much blood pools in the legs. So elevating the legs can help a person with the condition regain consciousness easier.

Spencer hated to rest your head on the hardness of the floor, but he rushed to take off his blazer, and folded it up to put it underneath your head as a makeshift pillow, and then he looked around frantically - and the only good thing he could find were the file boxes. He stacked a few of them and brought them closer, and then situated your legs so they were elevated up on top of the boxes, above your prone body.

He took your hand and held it - again, simply out of instinct. Wanting you to know that he was there with you while you lingered on the edge of consciousness. But with his helpful first aid, it wasn’t long then - only a minute or two - before your eyes blinked open more confidently and you tried to sit up.

“Hey, take it easy.” Spencer implored, pushing you gently to lay back down. “Just rest for a few minutes, okay?”

Usually - you would have rushed to become upright again, even if it was against medical advice. But something about Spencer’s presence was gentle and soothing, and you found yourself actually listening to him.

“Sorry,” You muttered out, the word practically turning into a slur on your lips - your face tingling and numb as the blood slowly migrated back to your head. “I - I didn’t mean to s-scare you.”

“You did scare me a little bit.” Spencer chuckled. “Hopefully next time I see you, you don’t end up on the floor.”

“Well, my condition gets b-better when I eat s-salty foods.” You remarked, telling him the truth about the medical advice you had been given, feeling bold to let this roll into a flirty opportunity. “Maybe you could t-take me to dinner-r next time?”

Spencer grinned down at you, and let out a light laugh.

“Sounds like a date.”

...

A/N: I have to say that this was so comforting for me to write. The amount of times in my life that I have fainted and been terrified, or I have been berated by the people around me for ‘faking’ it when I was feeling incredibly ill and barely conscious. If I fainted and I woke up to Spencer holding my hand and treating me so well like this - I would feel so relaxed and comforted. This was so amazing for me to write, and did help to heal a small fraction in the huge lifetime of medical trauma that I have.

Criminal Minds Masterlist

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid

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hunnylagoon · 4 months

Text

Right Where You Left Me

Pt 2: Jailbird

Ellie Williams x reader

I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.

Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.

Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues

Part one here!

Part three here!

Part four here!

I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.

Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.

Fuck her.

I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.

She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.

"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."

My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"

"Why would-

"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.

"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."

"Fuck off."

"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."

"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."

"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."

"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.

"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving' or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."

"Please, stop."

"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-

"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.

She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-

"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.

I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.

You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.

I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.

My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.

Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.

I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"

His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."

"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.

"Hear ye, hear ye-

My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"

"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."

I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.

I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.

Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.

My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.

Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.

I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.

"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."

Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.

Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."

"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.

"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."

My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."

"Or catholic," My mother adds.

I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.

"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.

"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.

Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."

Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."

My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.

"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.

"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."

My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."

Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."

Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.

He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."

"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.

While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.

"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.

I don't respond, I don't know how.

My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."

Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.

"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."

My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.

"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."

"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.

"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"

"no-

"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."

"Dad, I'm not sick-

"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"

"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.

"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.

"What?"

"You heard me, get out."

"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-

"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."

"Please, dad-

"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"

"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.

My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.

My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.

From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.

"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.

The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.

"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.

My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.

"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"

"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."

"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.

My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."

"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"

"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.

"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"

I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.

I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.

"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.

"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.

"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.

"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."

"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.

I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.

Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.

With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.

I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.

"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.

"Like for real?"

He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.

After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."

My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.

Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.

The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.

By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"

My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."

Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.

He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.

The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."

"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."

"It's just that-

"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."

I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"

"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."

Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"

Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."

"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.

"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.

"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."

Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."

"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.

He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"

"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"

"Of course I did."

"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."

"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.

Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.

The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.

The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.

The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.

"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.

"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.

"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.

All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."

I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.

"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."

I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.

I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.

"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.

"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.

"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."

Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."

Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.

Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.

I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.

D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK

Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁

Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!

Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!

Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!

Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me

Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!

566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.

Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.

Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place

Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍

Naomi: I'm so sorry

Naomi: I didn't think that would happen

Naomi: I didn't know what to do

Naomi: I love you

Aaron: U good?

Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything

Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that

Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad

Elijah: Hope you're safe

Elijah: Call me when you can

Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.

Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"

"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.

"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.

"I'm fine here, thanks."

"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.

I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."

Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."

"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.

"Please take the bed."

I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"

"That's not why-

"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."

Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.

"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."

"What?"

"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."

I'm not doing well.

I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.

"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"

'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."

"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.

I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.

TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo

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opencommunion · 14 days

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2012 poster by Riyad Hamad with Mahmoud Darwish's poem "Think of Others," bringing attention to the Palestinian prisoners' struggle, and particularly the Zionist regime's deliberate medical neglect of sick and disabled Palestinians held hostage in its prisons. [ID: Illustration in a linocut style printed in black on beige paper, showing a Palestinian prisoner blindfolded with his hands cuffed behind his back. He stands in the light from a small barred window with barbed wire beyond it. Behind him is an IV dispenser, the bag is nearly empty. The Arabic text of the poem is printed at an angle in the dark space. /end ID]

#palestine #zionism

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kyoukamybeloved · 6 months

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“You hate Dazai-san right.”

“Don’t act like a detective! That bastard is just.. just very, y’know.. It’s not hate.”

Looks like some complicated feelings.

soukoku webweaves: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7

creds:

cold spot - Trista Mateer// art by @taxolotl// wishbone - Richard Siken// ICU - Phoebe Bridgers// bubble gum - Clairo// so we must meet apart - Gabrielle Bates & Jennifer S. Cheng// essays in love - Alain de Botton// youth - daughter// dear Arkansas daughter - lady lamb// fleabag - Phoebe Waller-Bridge// sweetbitter - Stephanie Danler// art by @pleucas// the first bad man - Miranda July// in the aeroplane over the sea - neutral milk hotel// the beach - the neighbourhood// gilded lily - cults// waiting room - Phoebe Bridgers// boyish - Japanese breakfast// art from @/HiChuya on twitter// the hours - Michael Cunningham// yves olade// art from @/rokkyun1 on Twitter// stigmata: escaping texts// Hélène Cixous// wolf OR7 - Natalie Diaz// art by @thornedarrow// poem for a birthday - Sylvia Plath// unknown// art by @pleucas// lev st valentine// art by @bamfxp// vicious - V.E Schwab// I know it’s over - The Smiths// misheard lyrics - car seat headrest// be nice to me - the front bottoms// paper bag - Fiona Apple// trista mateer// art from @/1hys12 on Twitter// back to the old house - the smiths// let the light in - Lana del Rey// one last poem for Richard - Sandra Cisneros// art by @bananana2217

tagging moots and users who liked the other parts :)

@dinosaur-mayonnaise @philzokman @amagami-hime @homuncvlus @vinylbiohazard @bunglegaydogs @zamxii @ghostsinacoat @slug-behaviour @beastchuus @vivid-vices @atsuwushi @gorotic @pendragonstar @ricelover888 @oatmilkbasic @thou-shalt-cha-cha-real-smooth @the-gayest-sky-kid @lotus-reblogs @whiteapplesandblackblood @dazaiyurii @sommmee @shroombunnieses @sempieternal @sigskk @everyversionofmedeadandburied @thesunshinebard @hornyforthevirginmary @chibiko @galaxitic @evermorehypewoman

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wileys-russo · 6 months

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i thought of a PERFECT lessi fic. so r is a teacher and one of her students have a cute crush on her. lessi notices the little gifts she’s getting and gets jealous

school yard crush II a.russo

"-alright that's the bell and i will see you all tomorrow. make sure to be sensible and smart when walking home or by the road please year three!" you called out after your students as they filed out one by one, chattering happily that the day was finally over.

"miss?" you looked down to see one of your boys was requesting your attention, hiding something behind his back. "yes ben?" you gave it to him as he shuffled from foot to foot. "this is for you bye!" he handed you a folded piece of paper and raced off out of the room causing you to laugh.

watching to make sure all of them made it out safely you returned to your desk, having some homework to mark before you could head home hopefully before five.

taking a seat you opened the letter, a smile growing on your face as the boy had scrawled a poem using the letters of your name to compliment you. "so cute." you chuckled, taking a photo of it and tucking it away in your desk.

"lessi? you home?" you called out a few hours later as you let yourself in, not having seen her car in the driveway. dumping your bag on the counter you noticed a heart shaped note stuck to the fridge indicating your fiancé had headed to the market to grab a few things.

unsure when she'd left or when she'd return you headed off to shower, ready to wash off the day and get comfortable to continue the marking you'd not yet finished.

stepping out of the bathroom and into your bedroom you could hear music and smell the inevitable scent of the blondes cooking signaling she was home. changing into her arsenal travel top and a pair of shorts you made your way toward the source of the alluring scent.

"hello you." she saw you before you reached her, stirring something in a pan as she sent you a beaming smile. "hi baby." you kissed her gently in greeting before clinging to her tightly, feeling an immediate sense of calm settle over you as the two of you shared an embrace.

"you smell lovely." the striker mumbled as she rubbed your back and kissed your cheek, the two of you stepping away from one another. "it's this new body wash, it's caramel scented." you yawned, rounding the bench and settling yourself on a stool.

"when did you get that?" alessia asked curiously, moving to chop some carrots as she kept a watchful eye over what was already on the stove. "one of the kids at school gave it to me, i tried to give it back but he started to cry and i felt too guilty." you admitted with a sheepish smile.

"mm teachers pet? every class needs one." alessia laughed, sweeping the carrot off the board and into the pan. "no i think he has a crush, it's quite sweet really." you chuckled, alessia's smile disappearing at that. "should you be encouraging that?" she questioned with a small frown.

"i'm not encouraging it!" you chuckled as your fiancé simply hummed. "alessia russo are you jealous of an eight year old?" you teased with a grin, the blonde sending you a glare over her shoulder. "no." she grumbled with a frown.

"my love i mention that my name's gonna change once i get married like every five minutes. i'm not leaving you for him less." you laughed at the question.

"i'd also be marrying you in prison if you did." alessia retorted as you clicked your tongue in agreement. "look its harmless babe. i'm sure his parents got the body wash anyway, you know very well they have no issues trying to bribe me to pay their kids a little extra attention. and you have no issues eating the chocolates that follow!" you smiled standing up and moving to hug her from behind, poking her very ticklish sides as she squealed and grabbed your hands in hers.

"he did write me a little poem today though. you know you could take some tips from this kid i don't see any love letters from you!" you teased, placing a few gentle kisses to her neck. "i leave you notes in your lunch all the time!" alessia protested with a huff.

"yeah that say things like 'property of future mrs russo' or 'reminder that you have the best fiance in the world'." you laughed with a roll of your eyes. "they make you smile do they not?" alessia raised an eyebrow as you had to agree.

"then you're welcome."

"mm so romantic." you smiled, the blonde pecking your lips before you removed yourself, grabbing your phone and waving her over to read the poem from today.

"i guess that's a little bit sweet." alessia admitted with a sigh, stealing another kiss and returning back to the stove.

"what's cookin good lookin?" you questioned as you slid your laptop out of your bag, placing it down in front of you and moving your bag to the floor.

"beef ragu." you could have moaned at the answer, instead sighing happily as alessia chuckled at your obvious excitement.

"if food is the way to the heart you could have asked me to marry you the first night you cooked for me and i'd have said yes." you grinned, flashing your wedding ring at her as she sent you a wink.

"come on come on come on, i want butts in chairs within thirty seconds or we'll do extra math all afternoon instead!" you warned playfully as your class took their time dawdling in from their morning break. though at that threat they sprinted in and hurried to sit down making you laugh.

"it's quiet reading time to calm down a bit, everyone go and grab a book please!" you encouraged, gesturing toward the bookshelf on the back wall.

"why did you get us to sit down if we had to get up again to get a book miss?" one of the girls called out with a groan. "because i can! now off you go." you waved, taking a seat at your desk. focused on the paper in front of you you jumped slightly as you glanced up and found a pair of eyes much closer than you thought.

"these are for you miss." ben thrust out a handful of flowers and weeds, messily tied together with a hair tie as dirt showered down on your desk making you wince. "did you pick these out of the garden buddy?" you asked to which he nodded with an eager grin.

"okay. i think we need to have a little chat." you smiled, standing to your feet and gesturing for him to follow you outside. "3C my listening ears are on, so keep reading and no silly business or its times tables for all!" you warned seriously before stepping out of the classroom and partially closing the door.

"how come you brought me those flowers ben?" you started gently as the two of you sat down on the bench outside your classroom. "because my dad gets my mum flowers." he answered matter of factly as you bit back a smile.

"okay. so you got them for me because..." you encouraged for him to finish your sentence. "you're really pretty, like my mum." he again answered confidently. "now ben that is very sweet, but you know you and me aren't like your mum and dad." you started softly.

"i'm your teacher, so we have a special relationship but not like the one your mum and dad have. i am always here if you're feeling sad or upset or confused or angry or if you just need to chat, and i'll always do my best to help you. but i already have a fiancé, and i love her like your dad loves your mum." you continued, the boys face falling slightly but nodding along.

"and she gave me this ring which means that we promise to only love each other like your dad loves your mum. one day when you're ready and a lot older, you'll find someone like that too! but you have to stop getting me things okay? its very thoughtful but i want you to only think of me like a teacher or a friend, okay?" you finished as ben nodded.

"now you and olivia are pretty good friends right?" you diverted as he confirmed. "so why don't you go and give her the flowers? because you can give best friends things like that too to make them smile! just not teachers." you clarified as the boy let out a small oh and nodded quickly.

"alright. thank you for listening! back inside you go." the smile returning to his face as he raced inside you let out a sigh, taking a moment to collect yourself and return, clapping a pattern and grinning as all your students clapped back.

"only me!" you perked up as your fiancés voice rang through your shared home, a thump as she tripped over on the way in making you grin as she hurried to the kitchen.

"welcome home clumsy." you greeted her as the blonde returned and wasted no time flopping her taller form down on top of you. "how was dinner?" you asked, running your hands through her hair, alessia having gone out with a few of her team mates after training.

"it was lovely. missed you though!" she pouted as you kissed it away, having declined her invitation in favor of lesson planning. "brought you some leftovers. have you eaten?" she pushed herself up to hover over you as you shook your head with a guilty smile.

"baby it's nearly nine thirty! no more work, i'm banning it." your fiancé scowled, closing your laptop expertly with her foot and hauling you up to your feet. "those are for you too." she kissed your cheek and nodded to a bunch of flowers on the counter as she moved to heat you up some food.

"oh lessi, they're gorgeous. thank you!" you smiled softly in appreciation as she placed a bowl into the microwave. "are these just because i told you about ben today?" you teased, having called the striker during your lunch break to fill her in on your conversation.

"no! they're just because i love you." alessia defended, moving to press her body into yours and bury her face in your neck as you hummed with a chuckle, the taller girls lips beginning to mark a trail down the column of your throat as she pushed you a little harder into the counter.

"maybe it had a tiny bit to do with it...but just a tiny bit!"

#woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #engwnt #alessia russo #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso fanfics

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