#so sorry for the long rant but i was gonna explode if i didnt say anything

[star-mum]

Good morning babies <3 (“but it's literally the afternoon, Star” well nobody asked you, asshole) I got my breakie, I got my coffee, Spotify is blasting the FOB song of Sunny’s choice, lets fucking do this 😎

This is a fucking insane episode, it was really fucking good (it will be in my top 5 for season 4, I’m afraid) and also … WAS CYRUS PLAYED BY ARCHIE ANDREWS’ DAD ??????? MR ANDREWS ???? (i wanna say Fred Andrews ?)

Yes I know the actor, Luke Perry, was a lot more famous than that one character but I am 20 and that's the one thing I’ve seen him in (still he outsold in that fucking ep)

“You thought it would be an easy day. Maybe that was foolish on your part” well…. fucking duh, what did you expect when visiting a cult ? but also you’re me so I wont be too mean about it

“Benjamin Cyrus” OH YEAH ALSO, you’re gonna choose a new fake name for yourself and you go with BENJAMIN ??? Cyrus is cool as a first name, very cult-ish but Benjamin ??? LITTLE BENNY, THE CULT LEADER ???

“The rings.” YES !!! I fucking love this, fake dating ? NO, YOU FOOL MAKE MARRIAGE

“Make sure you put on the left hand.” …. As discreetly as possible Id wait for Spencer to put his ring on first to check which hand it is… im giFTED IN OTHER WAYS (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qXrQA-x1cbU)

“Won’t Cyrus be even more angry if he finds out that it’s not true?” What is he gonna do? Demand to see the certificate?

“you didn’t find it surprising that Reid knew this fact right off the top of his head” little intermission cause I genuinely DON'T UNDERSTAND why everyone always seems so annoyed whenever Spencer either blurts out random facts or goes on full rants ? Like, yes timing isnt one of his strong suits but as long as it isnt a super innaproprieta time WHY ARE YOU ALL SO JADED ????? I love useless stupid rants, I love to be told random facts, it’d genuinely be so much fun to have someone around who just Knows Stuff

Like imagine not having a super great day (or even a terrible one) you can just go “hey Spence, know any facts that might cheer me up?” BOOM ! EVERYONE’S HAPPY !! Okay, sorry about that, intermission over. Everyone back to your seats

“So Spencer stepped up to introduce you” isn't Cyrus gonna question why we didnt take Reid’s last name ?

“Hearing him refer to you as his wife - you hated to say it, but it caused a jolt through your system” YEAH THAT CHECKS OUT 

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be a need to invent a job called ‘Child Victim Interview Expert’” YOU TELL US OR SHOULD YOUR CHILD BRIDES ????

“how much intense, feigned passion you said these words with” putting my entire pussy into this role, lets go gamers

“completely surprising yourself, you leaned in and kissed Spencer on the cheek” to sell the fantasy ONLY obviously 

“Benjamin Franklin” … imagine youre a cult leader and the fake name you pick for yourself is in honor of BENJAMIN FRANKLIN (idc that he’s founding father, that's just boring and uninspired)

“knowing that the two of you likely should have coordinated this story during the plane ride” KSKSKS WE WERE SO CONFIDENT ABOUT IT TOO “he wont find out” MA’AM 

“Has it been a godly union?” … what does That mean ?

“Your wife didn’t take your last name.” I just “Jim”ed a non-existent camera (am I just… unbeatable …?)

“Hotch had only come up with the fake marriage idea the day before” I wonder why this super carefully made plan’s gonna explode on our faces (haha explode, get it?)

“A few hours later, everything had gone to hell” welp :/

“it wasn’t very difficult to pretend to be Spencer’s wife then” 

“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” can't we just put it on Nancy’s tab ? she’s already dead anyways :-: 

“What? You think I wouldn’t know if - if my wife was an FBI Agent?” very good point, angel <3

“and you couldn’t help when you let out a wounded cry” this is like the opposite we’d always have to as agents, no the more real emotion the better

“It must have been Nancy!” FUCK YEAH WE CAN !!!! 

“Perhaps I should strip you naked to ensure that you’re not wearing a wire.” I find comfort in knowing that his ass is getting blown up at the end of this : D

“Perhaps they didn’t see him as a threat” sksksk damn

“So I suggest you get that gun away from my wife before you and I truly have a problem.” I want him, biblically 

“Your arms clutched desperately at his waist, needing to keep a hold on him” the yEARNING THAT I'M FEELING THIS WHOLE SECTION !! ITS A TERRIBLE AND INDESCRIBABLE FEELING

“You couldn’t hold yourself back then. You surged up and kissed him” YEEAAAHHHHH !!!! LETS GOOOOO !!!! howEVER sksksk we’re gonna get so much fucking grief from Morgan and Prentiss over this “a cULT HOLDING YOU A GUN POINT ?? THAT'S WHAT IT TOOK?”

“After the mock poisoning, which Spencer figured out rather quickly” not important but my sister watched this episode with me and I also figured that out – before her or Spencer, so point for me on the scoreboard

“If we tell them that you’re pregnant” I FORGOT ABOUT THIS PART (oh boy if you thought the yearning was hard before)

“You had gotten married and had kids all in one day. What a miracle” KSKSKSK SUNNY 

“Your imaginary sperm is powerful, isn’t it?” KSKSKKSS

“Those were names he had lovingly chosen for your imaginary children” nothing like the fear of imminent death to bring out the embarrassing marriage!AU you have about you and your coworker

“You reached up and gently gripped his forearm in response, giving a light squeeze to show your approval. He leaned in and kissed the back of your head” dizzyingly is CORRECT cause I’m feeling light headed

Okay sorry, they’re acting so married and couple-y, I just had the vision of both of then getting back to where the rest of the team is still in that headspace and Hotch has to – after a long moment – ask for the rings back, cause they’re both still happily wearing them

“Hugo and Iris” I really wanna know the context for the name choices !! idk if this is something that Spencer mentioned further in the show or if there is a deeper meaning for you picking them, but I wanna know 

“but you had come up with some much better – You said that you have a nursery here?“ fake miscarriage … ? ooohhhh okay no that was stupid nvm (I’ll be humble and leave it in tho SKSKSKS)

“needing to care for children lest your womb shrivel up and you die” SKSKSKS the comedy in this one is just next level, these lines are killing me 

“Your plan worked flawlessly” never doubted myself for a second 🫥

““Where’s Reid?” Morgan easily asked you. “He’s still up at the church” Oh we’re kissing when he gets out, in front of everybody I can sense it (it’s my personal version of spidey senses, I can feel a good fanfic moment coming miles away)

“You had to tell yourself that Derek was going to get Spencer out” I mean… Derek also drove an explosive rigged ambulance to a self exploding space in like 2 minutes ?? there’s very little that man can't do

“you felt a sharp grip on your upper arm – L/N!” I always feel something akin to a tiny little baby static shock when my name’s just on shit (I always forget the extension is on)

“You’re so stupid, you’re so stupid! Why would you do that to me?” the most “Star” reaction of all time, thank you sm for this

“I love you too – The words flew from your lips so naturally it hurt” I can feel this in my bones and I don't know how to better explain it

“one of the most earth shattering kisses you had ever experienced” Spidey Senses, never wrong

“It was no longer a show” mA’AM– *deep breath* its okay, she’s still in denial, its fINE 

Love Me Love Me by the Travelling Kisses started playing (mind you I put on my Spotify likes, so 1132 songs on shuffle) and I felt genuine pain for how perfectly it fit

“you simply flipped Derek off over Spencer’s shoulder” KSKSKSKS IS THAT PHOTO !! I CANT FIND IT BUT YOU’VE SEEN IT !!! EVERYONES DRAWING THEIR FAV HOMOSEXUALS IN THAT POSE

“JJ handed Derek five dollars” Damn JJ “Derek handed the fiver to Emily when she reminded him that the ‘fake marriage’ bit had actually been her idea” OH MY GOD OF COURSE !!!!

“he fake rings were just cheap costume jewelry that Garcia had gotten and they would tarnish soon if you kept wearing them” and we will have green ring marks on our fingers, happily 

“I rewatched the canon episode and it doesn't 100% align with what happened in the episode in terms of the timeline and stuff” I literally just watched this weekend and I dont even remember much outside of the main plot points SKKSKSKS so I think it's absolutely fine

“I highly resisted the urge to end this with 'baby making' smut” which is both fair but also dear god it probably pained you to do so 

OKAY !!! I just absolutely loved this !!!! I love the cheesy and angsty moments, also really fun episode to write fic “onto”, we already talked about this but I would love nothing more than make Spencer a father and he’d be SUCH A GOOD HUSBAND AND DAD IT KILLS ME

I definitely not going to deny baby making smut if it comes my way but I also agree this being its own cute little thing is very good (I’d honestly be more interested in a pt 2 following more of their relationship, than focusing more on the smut – which surprises the both of us I Know)

The Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary:

While undercover inside the Separatarian Sect, you and Spencer realize something important: you can't live without each other.

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Fake Dating. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 4, Episode 3.

Word Count: 8,200

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Full list of warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: Lots of spoilers for the canon episode - so if you haven't watched Season 4 of Criminal Minds yet, steer clear of this fic for now (especially because watching the episode provides some context for this fic/makes things make more sense); the reader uses she/her pronouns and has the ability to get pregnant (she is not pregnant during the fic and there's no smut, but due to discussions in the fic, it's not unreasonable that she could get pregnant); fake dating in the form of a fake marriage - the reader and Spencer pretend to be married under the Christian religion to 'appeal' to Cyrus; because of the fake marriage, Spencer uses the term 'my wife' to refer to the reader; lots of mentions of religion (Christianity), religious extremism, mentions of pedophilia/child brides (in line with the canon episode); mentions of systemic sexism and gender roles enforced by cultures of organised religion and religious extremism; use of y/n and l/n (in this case meaning 'your last name'); the reader pretends to follow the Christian religion while undercover but I never stated if she believes in a less extreme version of these things or not (the reader's true religious beliefs are never stated); protective!Spencer, possessive!Spencer; mentions of Spencer being taller than the reader (which, again, I think he would be taller than most people) - the reader's body/body type is not described in any other way; mentions of guns and gun violence (not described in deep detail) - in line with the canon episode; the reader and Spencer fear for their lives; dangerous/live-threatening situations; the reader and Spencer are threatened with a gun; Cyrus is just generally creepy and sexist toward the reader; Spencer is pistol-whipped and the reader is threatened with sexual assault (it does not happen, Spencer protects her); mentions of pregnancy/the reader being pregnant (she is not pregnant during the course of the fic); mentions of the reader being a mother/having kids (Spencer makes up fake kids to sell their fake marriage story); the reader realizes she might actually want to be a mother because of Spencer's fake kids story; mentions of an explosion (as in the canon); love confessions; angst with a happy ending. Hopefully that is everything.

A/N: The title for this fic comes from a Fall Out Boy song of the same name. The theme/lyrics of the song don't really fit the fic, but I love the way that this title fits - how everyone in this fic is lying in some way but Spencer is someone with good intentions while lying. Making him the Patron Saint of Liars and Fakes. I love how it fits. I wrote this while suffering with heat exhaustion so idk if it's good or even makes sense. I rewatched the canon episode and it doesn't 100% align with what happened in the episode in terms of the timeline and stuff, and I am too tired to rewrite the whole fic to make it align with the episode. So uh - alternative canon? But I really love the basic concepts and I do really love how it turned out. I hope you guys like it too!

...

You thought it would be an easy day. 

Maybe that was foolish on your part. So far, you hadn’t seen a single ��easy’ day while working with the BAU. Between chasing down scumbags and then reliving every single gory detail while doing the paperwork - none of it was ‘easy’. It was worthy, accomplished work - making the world a safer place to live in. (At least that’s what you told yourself.) But it was never easy. 

There was always someone who made the job easier. Someone who made you smile every single day - especially on days when you didn’t think you were even capable of feeling a tiny shred of joy. Someone who made you feel safe, who you always felt had your back no matter what. So you were glad that he was by your side today, along for the ride. 

“Tell us about Cyrus.” Reid prompted. 

He looked to the woman driving, your new companion for the day - Nancy Lunde, someone who worked with the state department and had set up the interviews with the children at the Separatarian Sect. 

“Benjamin Cyrus. No criminal record. In fact, there’s no record of the guy at all.” Nancy explained. 

“That’s odd.” You commented. “Usually someone being accused of something like this would have some past offenses. Especially because it would give him a reason to move into isolation to continue the criminal pattern of behavior.” 

“Well, I couldn’t find anything on him.” Nancy shrugged. 

“What about the 9-1-1 call?” You asked. 

“A fifteen year old girl called in saying that a man was ‘laying with her’ and claimed it as ‘God’s will’. I believe the ‘he’ referred to is Cyrus.” Nancy explained. “The age fits with Jessica Evanson, but I’ve managed to negotiate interviews with all the children, just to be sure. It wasn’t easy.” 

“They’re incredibly weary of outsiders.” You commented. “Our boss warned you not to identify us as FBI, right?” 

Nancy nodded. “I got you some spare credentials, just in case.” 

She took one of her hands off the wheel and reached into her pocket.

“You’re going to be using your real names. You’re going in as Child Victim Interview Experts working with Child Protective Services. No association with the FBI.” Nancy explained, handing Reid your fake credentials. 

He nodded, inspecting the IDs before handing you yours where you were sitting in the backseat. 

“Oh, before I forget.” You noted, reaching into the pocket of your cardigan. “The rings.” 

You pulled out a small plastic bag that Hotch had given to you before you left. It was a bag containing a fake diamond ring in your size and a fake golden ‘wedding’ band for Spencer. 

Reid reached over the seat to grab his ring from you, and Nancy gave the two of you an odd look. 

“Rings?” She questioned. 

“Fake wedding bands.” You explained. 

“It was our Unit Chief’s idea.” Reid added on. “He believes that presenting us as a ‘godly’ married couple to Cyrus will make him more likely to open up to us. He’s less likely to see us as hostile outsiders if he believes that we share a similar system of beliefs.” 

“It could also have a calming effect on the teenagers we have to interview or the kids there who have had more time to go through indoctrination at the Sect.” You continued to explain. “Even if their parents are hesitant to let the kids speak with us, they may be more willing to have their child speak with us or even leave them alone with us if they believe that we’re fellow Christians, rather than hostile atheists there to poison their children’s minds.” 

Reid nodded at you through the rearview mirror. 

“Make sure you put on the left hand.” He told you. “That’s the position for marriage.” 

You nodded at this. 

You placed the ring in the appropriate position, and you couldn’t help but to take a moment and stare at it. It was jarring to have a wedding ring on - especially with the thought that it represented you being married to Spencer. But you supposed, of all the people to call your husband, he would be one of the best. He was honest, intelligent, kind, and… if you were pressed, you would definitely say he was handsome. 

But you couldn’t get too caught up thinking about all of that. Because it wasn’t real. It was a false projection you were wearing for the benefit of a self inflated sociopath. 

Spencer liked the feeling of the ring. He didn’t take too long to stare at it after he had put it on, because he knew his mind would wander if he did. When Hotch had first proposed the idea of the two of you pretending to be married, Spencer had almost tripped over himself to oppose it - mostly because he didn’t think that he would be able to handle simply pretending to be your husband for the day. It was just too cruel. 

Having something he wanted so badly dangled right in front of him and knowing that it was all just a farce - it bothered him, but he delighted in the play nonetheless. 

When he caught the fake gold glinting in the light, Spencer had to remind himself that it was fake - that you would just be playing his wife for the day. He had to push back any internal glee that he felt at the idea that he got to be ‘taken’ by you while wearing that ring. It wasn’t real. It was just for the day. 

“Isn’t that deceptive?” Nancy asked. “Won’t Cyrus be even more angry if he finds out that it’s not true?” 

“He won’t find out.” You replied confidently. “And besides, we use deception in interrogations all the time. It’s a very basic tactic: align yourself with the suspect. Make them think you share the same beliefs, that you’re on their side.” 

Reid grinned at this. He always loved it when you spoke so confidently. 

… 

“We’re looking for Mr. Benjamin Cyrus.” Nancy announced as the three of you got out of the car. 

“Then you’ve found him.” Cyrus announced confidently. 

He was pretty much what you had expected him to be - dressed informally, slouched over, faking meekness, holding a bible near his chest as though it were a shield. He had planted himself there purposefully, wanting to be the first person to interact with the outsiders as three of you came into the Ranch. 

You hovered back near Spencer, letting Nancy make the first introduction. 

“I’m Nancy Lunde.” She said, giving a small nod toward the man. “We spoke on the phone regarding the allegation.” 

“‘Savages they call us, because our manners differ from theirs.’” Cyrus rhymed off a quote, obviously positioning himself and his group as martyrs being attacked for having ‘different ways’ that the world simply didn’t understand. 

“We didn’t come here to hear you cite scripture, Mr. Cyrus.” Nancy reminded him, hoping to keep the religious zealot on track. 

“Actually, it’s Benjamin Franklin.” Reid corrected her, talking about the quote. 

That did surprise you, but you didn’t find it surprising that Reid knew this fact right off the top of his head. It was just one of the many amazing things about him - his perfect memory and his ability to use it. 

Of course, him saying this immediately drew Cyrus’ attention toward the two of you. So Spencer stepped up to introduce you. 

“Hello, I’m Spencer Reid, and this is my wife, Y/N L/N.” He said motioning toward himself and then to you as he introduced the two of you. Hearing him refer to you as his wife - you hated to say it, but it caused a jolt through your system. Almost as if you had been waiting forever to hear him say those words and hadn’t even known it yourself. “We’re Child Victim Interview Experts, here on behalf of Child Protective Services.” 

Of course, you couldn’t get too caught up in deciphering how those words made you feel, because you had to focus on the task at hand. The job that you were here to do. 

“How far from God’s word must we have strayed for there to be a need to invent a job called ‘Child Victim Interview Expert’.” Cyrus said, his tone even, quiet. 

You knew that covertly, it was his way of saying that the two of you didn’t belong there, because he ran the Ranch with God’s word, so nobody had actually been harmed (in his opinion). He believed that he had done nothing wrong. Obviously, he thought your time and resources were better spent with ‘actual’ victims who didn’t have his power wielded over their lives. 

“I can assure you, Mr. Cyrus, we try to bring God into our work.” You told him, trying to appeal to him. “The children we visit usually need prayer and God’s light the most.” 

Spencer gave you a sideways glance, clearly holding back a grin at how thick you were pouring it on - how much intense, feigned passion you said these words with. 

“Well, I can assure you that a lack of prayer and God’s light is certainly not an issue for the children here.” Cyrus said, giving you a clever little grin. He thought that you would simply interview the children, praise him for what a good job he had done, and then leave. “You can go and see the children whenever you like. They are up at the school, as I indicated in our phone call.” 

Nancy walked toward the school, and you paused before you followed. 

Before you walked off, you looked to Spencer. In a completely silent conversation that only worked so well because the two of you had been in so many tense situations before, thinking around UnSubs and planning miles around them before they could even know it, he gave you a small nod and you instantly knew what it meant. He had established a small bit of trust with Cyrus, so he would stick back and see what else he could get out of the man. 

You nodded back, and then - completely surprising yourself, you leaned in and kissed Spencer on the cheek. You were just playing the part, you told yourself. It’s not that it felt entirely instinctive to say goodbye to him with some kind of affection, like the many hugs you had given him before. It’s not that you felt so entirely scrutinized with Cryus’ piercing eyes on you, and you needed the anchor of Spencer’s touch. 

You were just playing the part. 

Spencer tried not to get caught on being kissed on the cheek like he was some blushing virgin, and instead, focused his attention back on Cyrus instead of watching you walk away. (Even though every single one of his instincts told him that he needed to keep a more careful eye on you because you both had to leave your guns in the car.) 

He took a step closer to where Cyrus was leaning on the concrete, and easily picked a topic of conversation. 

“Solar panels.” Reid said, motioning to the large devices sitting behind Cyrus on the grass. 

“Yes.” Cyrus nodded. “We’re completely self-sufficient here. Food, electricity, water. Benjamin Franklin said ‘God helps those who help themselves’.” He explained. “You look surprised.” 

“No, uh, impressed, actually.” Reid easily lied, trying to appeal to his ego. 

“Thank you.” Cyrus said. “Most men wouldn’t admit that.” 

“Well, I suppose that I’m not like most men.” Reid shrugged in return. 

“How long have you been married?” Cyrus asked, motioning toward Reid’s ‘wedding ring’. 

Reid panicked slightly, knowing that the two of you likely should have coordinated this story during the plane ride to Colorado so that your answers to these simple questions wouldn’t be different. But he just made up an answer and hoped that nobody else would ask you the same question and find out the deception. 

“Three years.” He said. “I’ve been very blessed.” 

He used the language purposefully, knowing that the simple phrase could get him on Cyrus’ good side. That, and he hoped it would draw the attention away from any possible signs of his blatant lie. 

“Your wife is very beautiful.” Cyrus commented. 

He gave a wicked smirk as he said this. It was a simple, fairly ‘innocent’ comment, but it was immediately off-putting to Spencer. It took everything in his body not to glare daggers at Cyrus or throw out some protective comment in return. He could only imagine what was going through Cyrus’ mind as he thought about you, and he hated even imagining it. 

Reid knew that it was a basic logical good, the instinct to protect you because you were his partner on this case and he was supposed to have your back. But it was also something more. Something in every fiber of his being that screamed you were his and no man should ever be thinking of you that way except for him. 

“Has it been a godly union?” 

He was lucky when Cyrus spoke again and distracted him from his mounting rage. 

“We try to be as godly as we can be.” Spencer took the simple, diplomatic answer. 

“Your wife didn’t take your last name.” Cyrus pointed out. 

Nancy had used your name on your false credentials because Hotch had only come up with the fake marriage idea the day before. There hadn’t been time to inform her about it and have ‘Reid’ put on your ID as your ‘married’ name. So he had introduced you by your name to keep everything consistent with the reuse. 

It did make Spencer wonder if you would keep your last name if the two of you ever did get married. It made him almost dizzy, thinking about you as ‘Mrs Reid’. Thinking about your kids having his name. Or your name, if that’s what you wanted. 

But naturally, he pushed past all those thoughts and formed an excuse. 

“Typically, married women aren’t very well perceived in our line of work.” He quickly excused. “She doesn’t even get to wear her ring that often. She couldn’t change her name on paperwork at our office because a working married woman… it’s heavily frowned upon.” 

“Well, I’d have to agree.” Cyrus grunted. “A woman shouldn’t be out working. A woman should be at home raising a family.” 

“I - I suppose you’re right.” Reid agreed through gritted teeth. 

He walked away toward the school before he got too angry again. 

… 

A few hours later, everything had gone to hell. 

Some authority - the police, the military, you didn’t even know - had charged into the Ranch shooting. In response, Cyrus and his followers had come into the school toting large semi-automatics asking you and Spencer if you knew about a raid. 

You didn’t. You wish you had known about a raid. You would have warned Hotch and gotten them to call it off. You certainly would not have been there while it was happening. 

When they had pointed those guns in your face and forced you into the tunnels - it wasn’t very difficult to pretend to be Spencer’s wife then. Cowering in the bunker, confused and scared, you flung your arms around his waist almost instinctively, and he buried his nose in the top of your hair as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders like a shield, promising you that everything was going to be okay. 

Whispered to you like that, coming from him - it was almost easier to believe. Even with the chaos going on around you and the fear pumping through you in response. 

Nancy had run off trying to get them to surrender and did not come back. You had a feeling that you knew what that meant. 

And now, with the kids from the school ‘evacuated’ into the church, you were being held in the cellar at gunpoint. They had forcefully separated you and Spencer, making you sit in chairs at opposite sides of the room.

Spencer was fidgeting. His eyes kept flickering from the door, to you, to the man standing beside you holding the very large gun. 

You knew that you had ugly tear tracks down your face, and oddly enough - you wanted nothing more than to be back in his arms. As you were forced to sit there, just a few feet across the room away from him - you ached for it. 

There was a very large possibility that you were going to die today. And you selfishly needed the comfort of being in the arms of someone familiar - someone safe. Someone you knew would never hurt you. Someone who had made you laugh with dumb science jokes and puns for the last five years that you had worked together with him. 

When Cyrus charged back into the room with two men flanking his sides, you and Spencer stiffened up once again. 

“God will forgive me for what I’m about to do.” Cyrus announced to the room, presenting a handgun from his belt. 

Your insides quaked, and Spencer’s eyes grew wide. 

You couldn’t contain the fearful whimper that erupted from the back of your throat when he raised that gun and placed it near the middle of Spencer’s forehead. You clasped a hand tightly over your mouth to keep yourself from crying out in protest, knowing that would only make things worse. 

“Which one of you is the FBI Agent?” Cyrus asked firmly. 

Which ‘one’? 

So he knew that you were undercover, that you had lied about your job titles - but he thought that only one of you had done so. Where the hell was he getting his information? 

“I - I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Spencer told him quietly, looking him in the eye the entire time. 

You hoped that his stutter could be passed off as nervousness from the gun being pointed in his face, and wouldn’t be pointed to as deception. 

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus pressed. 

“We are not FBI Agents.” Spencer said, more confidently this time. “We are Child Victim Interview Experts. We were only sent here to ensure the wellbeing of the children. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

Well, that last part wasn’t a lie. 

“You’re lying.” Cyrus told him, entirely confident in this. “God expells those who lie, devils in sheep’s clothing.” 

There was a tense moment, and then Cyrus cocked the gun. 

Spencer didn’t flinch. You resisted the urge to scream. 

“Proverbs 12:22 says: ‘The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in those who tell the truth.’” Cyrus said, actually citing scripture this time. 

He was giving Spencer one last chance to tell the truth. As if using the bible verse to say that his punishment would be lesser if he simply told the truth now. 

Spencer didn’t take the bait. 

“I’m not lying.” Spencer said firmly. “What? You think I wouldn’t know if - if my wife was an FBI Agent? This is the woman I wake up next to every single morning, the woman I go to sleep next to every single night, we work together every single day, we-” 

Cyrus interrupted Spencer’s ranting with a sharp hit to the face, pistol whipping him across the cheek. 

This caused Spencer to go flying off the chair, and you couldn’t help when you let out a wounded cry. It took everything in you not to jump out of your own chair and rush to Spencer where he had collapsed onto the ground, clutching his cheek. 

“Someone is going to tell me the truth.” Cyrus said gruffly. 

“It must have been Nancy!” You said, the idea finally popping into your head. 

You seemed to be more clever with the pressure of Spencer’s life being threatened. Cyrus stared you down, turning his attention fully toward you now. You caught Spencer’s eye for a moment and he gave you a small nod - as if to say ‘yes, keep going with that’. 

“The woman we came in with! Nancy!” You reasoned, continuing to point the finger at the woman you had to assume was dead. “We - we just met her today. Our boss introduced us to her, but we had never met before that. If she was FBI, we had no clue. We swear.” 

Cyrus turned to you then, and tightly pressed the barrel of his gun into your forehead. You could feel the imprint of it so tight in your skin that it hurt, and you could only lean away so far before threatening to knock the chair backwards. 

“It’s very convenient to pin this crime on someone who isn’t here.” He grunted at you. 

“It’s the truth.” You sniffled out quietly. 

“Hmm.” Cyrus hummed thoughtfully, and then, much to your surprise, he removed the gun barrel from your forehead. 

You barely had a moment to breathe in relief before he began skimming the gun down your neck, touching the metal whisper-gentle across your bare skin - clearly taunting you. It was something that made your whole body stiff with alarm, and caused Spencer’s eyes to go wide once again.

“Perhaps I should strip you naked to ensure that you’re not wearing a wire.” Cyrus said, teasing the gun along the buttons at the front of your cardigan. 

You held back a sob at the thought of it - at the idea that he could make you do almost anything for the fear of you being shot. Truthfully, you were more afraid of what he might do to Spencer if you didn’t comply, but it was all the same in your mind now. His life was just as valuable as yours, and you would do whatever it took to protect him.

Before Cyrus could take these threats any further, a heroic voice intervened. 

“That’s enough!” Spencer yelled. 

He gathered himself off the floor and oddly enough, none of the men moved to stop him as he came to stand beside Cyrus. Perhaps they didn’t see him as a threat. Perhaps it was because Cyrus didn’t bark any orders at them to stop him. He was entirely unflinching, keeping his focus on you and keeping his gun held between your breasts as Spencer crowded into his personal space, trying to press himself between you and the awful man. 

“We’ve told you everything that we know.” Spencer told him lowly, his voice heaving with well controlled anger. It was something that you had rarely ever heard from him. 

Cyrus kept his eyes locked on you, so Spencer continued. 

“We don’t know anything about the FBI - we have a simple job advocating for children who have been abused. That is it. We came here to investigate a most likely false claim against someone in your community and we truly didn’t mean to get caught up in all of this.” He said firmly, clearly trying to appeal to Cyrus. “So I suggest you get that gun away from my wife before you and I truly have a problem.” 

Spencer’s voice was dark, so thick with rage. More pent up rage than you had ever heard from him when he was talking to any suspect, people who had done the worst of the worst. Something about Cyrus threatening you had truly boiled his insides. 

The way he said the words ‘my wife’ - growling it out like he was a feral animal and this threat to you had activated every single one of his protective instincts. Hearing it made something inside of you yearn for him on such a deep level that you didn’t know was possible. You wanted to feel that kind of protection cast over you every single day. It made you feel invincible, having Spencer watch over you like that. 

Cyrus lowered the gun then, and Spencer grabbed your arm as you dissolved into hysterical tears. Instinctively, he lifted you up into his arms. You thought that you heard Cyrus mumble out ‘my apologies’ as he left the room - but he was barely on your radar. Your entire world became narrowed down to nothing but Spencer, your safety net as he built a wall of protection around you. 

He used his height to block you from seeing anything but him, letting you push your face into his chest as you cried. He wrapped you in his arms once again, letting you feel truly safe for a few moments as you sobbed into the fabric of his sweater. Your arms clutched desperately at his waist, needing to keep a hold on him - needing to ensure that he didn’t leave you. 

“Hey, shh. Shh. It’s okay.” He said, leaving gentle kisses on the top of your forehead and your hair, rubbing across your back with one hand, comforting you in the only way he could in those moments. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Of course, he wanted to break down too. But he had to be strong for you. 

“Spencer,” You called his name in an utterly wounded voice, pulling away from his chest to look up at him. 

When you saw his injury up close - a sharp, purple-red bruise that was blooming across his cheek, it looked so utterly painful. Your insides ached at the thought that he had taken a blow for you. You hated to imagine what more they could have done to him if they had not believed your lies. 

You instinctively reached a hand up to touch it and he caught your fingers halfway, instead, gently grasping your hand and laying it on his chest. The intimacy felt so oddly rehearsed - so worn in, so ‘normal’. It felt like you had been married to Spencer for years. Like it wasn’t a play at all. 

Your two souls had been calling out to each other for years, just waiting for the dam to break. But you couldn’t quite put it into words - not like that. 

“It’s okay.” He said quietly, knowing you were horrified by the injury. 

He was so gentle, so comforting, so calm. Everything the men pointing guns at you were not. Unlike Cyrus - Spencer Reid was a true blessing from God. 

You couldn’t hold yourself back then. 

You surged up and kissed him, fully embracing his mouth with yours in a kiss. Though it was so sudden, it was something he easily returned. The kiss so full of urgency, so needy, so passionate. Like he was trying to tell you that it was okay, that he would protect you no matter what. 

He would protect you because you belonged to him. 

In those moments, the two of you were basically alone. One of Cryus’ men was guarding the door, watching on boredly. But Cyrus was off in the church, funneling people in to prepare for his ‘loyalty’ test. It didn’t matter if he saw you kissing or not - it wouldn’t have sold the reuse of you being married any better. 

This was just for the two of you. This was comfort. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, Spencer looked stunned, almost as if he couldn’t believe what had happened. You didn’t give him time to question it. 

“Thank you.” You said quietly. 

It was twofold:

Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for giving me comfort. 

Spencer didn’t have too much time to marinate in the meaning of the kiss before Cyrus’ men came back and fetched the two of you, wanting you to observe the loyalty test. 

… 

After the mock poisoning (which Spencer figured out rather quickly, making you admire his cleverness once again), Cyrus kept you and Spencer in the church with a few of his closest, most loyal followers while all of the low level followers dispersed back to their homes. 

You and Spencer were lingering in the back quietly while Cyrus was on the other end of the room, talking to his men about how to proceed. The plans for their ‘final stand’. 

“We need to get some kind of signal to the others.” Spencer whispered quietly. “Maybe they’ll take pity on you and let you go if-” He swallowed sharply, cutting himself off abruptly. Oddly enough, he didn’t want to voice whatever was on his mind. 

“If what?” You probed. You wondered what the hell you could possibly be thinking. 

“If we tell them that you’re pregnant.” He said, whispering so lowly that you almost didn’t catch the words. 

You rolled your eyes sharply at this. 

You had gotten married and had kids all in one day. What a miracle. 

(In those moments, clouded by fear, you couldn’t see it for what it truly was - Spencer blatantly revealing his unconscious desires to have a baby with you.) 

“We could convince them to release you. As a show of good faith. A pregnancy would be good leverage in that. You know how religious people are about fetuses-” Spencer reasoned. 

“Yeah, and what if they give me a test?” You probed, punching a large hole in his logic. “We don’t know what kind of infirmary they have here. They obviously believe in modern technology. What if they want to give me an ultrasound to check on the fetus after the stress of the day? To prove that they did no harm to the precious unborn child,” 

Spencer was easily caught on this point. If they examined you and found that you weren’t pregnant, all the lies would fall apart. 

“Well… what if we tell them that you have a baby at home that you need to get back to?” Spencer reasoned, jumping to the next logical conclusion in his mind. “It’ll likely garner the same level of pity.” 

“Your imaginary sperm is powerful, isn’t it?” You whispered back sharply. Spencer rolled his eyes this time. But he didn’t redact the plan as unreasonable, so you continued on. “Okay, what do I even do when I get out there? I’m not gonna be of any use to the tactical team. We don’t know what Cyrus’ final play is yet.” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t bear to be separated from Spencer. Knowing that he was inside, potentially being beaten up more, potentially being shot and bleeding out from a wound without you knowing - it would kill you with stress. You need to be by his side. You needed to know that he was okay. 

“Has God blessed your union with any children?” Cyrus appeared behind you suddenly. 

You wondered if he had heard you say the word ‘pregnancy’ or if this was just a random topic that had come up in his mind. 

His sudden appearance behind you caused you to whip around and crowd into the comfort of Spencer’s arms again because you were frightened. Naturally, Spencer wrapped his sheltering touch around your shoulders. Your back was gently pressed into Spencer’s front, his arm shielding you protectively as it was wrapped around your chest, holding you with his hand on one of your shoulders, unconsciously stroking his thumb across the fabric of your cardigan. The position had you both facing Cyrus, watching the fan in an offensive way. 

And of course, Spencer didn’t miss a beat. 

“Yes.” Spencer answered easily. “We have two kids at home. A boy and a girl. Iris and Hugo. Iris is almost three years old and Hugo is eleven months. His first birthday is coming up in June.” 

You knew that Spencer could be very good at talking off a suspect’s ear under pressure, but when you heard him rattle off these ‘facts’ so easily, it hit you. 

This wasn’t simply statistics or physiological knowledge - this was a very elaborate backstory for your supposedly real marriage. Perhaps he had thought about all of it on the car ride up (which was odd not to share it with you, in case Cyrus asked you a similar question and your answer didn’t match up with Spencer’s). 

But if you weren’t mistaken, this wasn’t simply a backstory for your fake marriage during the undercover mission. This was a fantasy of his. Those were names he had lovingly chosen for your imaginary children - kids he had dreamed up in his head and wanted to be real. 

Your heart ached at the thought of it. You found yourself missing a set of children that weren’t even real. (And distantly, wanting to jump his bones to make it a reality.)

“Tell me, Mr. Reid, would you find it so shameful for your daughter to marry young?” Cyrus asked. 

You found it odd to hear Cyrus call Spencer ‘Mr. Reid’, but you realized that he hadn’t introduced himself as ‘Doctor’ in this setting. You held your tongue when you felt the need to correct him as you had so many other people, wanting Spencer to receive his proper title. 

Your mind almost couldn’t focus on the question that Cyrus had asked. Of course, he was trying to get Spencer to stroke his ego once again. Basically admitting that the whole reason the two of you had come here was true - he was being vastly inappropriate with a young member of the church, and getting away with it. And he saw nothing wrong with it. 

And he was trying to get an outsider to admit that he saw nothing wrong with it too. 

When there was a moment of silence - Reid obviously torn on how to answer the question, Cyrus continued. 

“Is there really something so wrong with a blooming young woman marrying a man who will protect her under God’s laws?” He probed, his voice so entirely confident. Clearly confident that he was right. 

“Well, I’m not sure if I would let my daughter get married so young.” Reid said, finally speaking up. “I just know that I would want her to marry a man that would protect her, and be the best possible fit for her. Someone who would cherish her and be good to her no matter what.” 

His answer made you swoon. You reached up and gently gripped his forearm in response, giving a light squeeze to show your approval. He leaned in and kissed the back of your head - dizzyingly, you were imagining him walking your imaginary daughter down the aisle before you had even gotten married yourself. 

Maybe it was being so close to death, being threatened in such dangerous territory that was causing your life to accelerate at light speed in your mind. If you were going to lose everything, you might as well enjoy the escapism of a fake life with a beautiful man in your mind instead of being stuck on the heart pounding terror of being held hostage, right? 

Surprisingly, his words drew a smile from Cyrus. 

“You’re a protective father, aren’t you?” Cyrus asked. 

“Of course.” Reid confirmed. 

“I can always admire that in a man.” Cyrus nodded. “A man should always pride himself on protecting his family.” 

There was another moment of pause, and you were hoping that the topic had been dropped completely. 

“Do you have a picture of your children with you?” Cyrus asked. 

You wondered if - in a different version of reality, where you and Spencer really were married, where Hugo and Iris really did exist - if you had a picture of them in your pocket, would Cyrus only be asking this so he could use the picture to taunt the two of you? What other purpose would he have for knowing what your children looked like? 

“Unfortunately, no.” You answered. “I keep my family pictures on my desk. In my office. We - we’ve just been praying to get back to them safely.” 

Cyrus seemed perturbed at you mentioning that you had an office. Something dark flickered over his features for a moment and then disappeared. 

“Well… if it is right, God will grant you that safe passage.” Cyrus said. 

Just when you truly thought the conversation was done, he said something to you that entirely grinded under your skin. 

“I find it entirely odd that a mother of two young children spends her days working a job where she takes care of other people’s children, rather than staying at home with her own youngins where she belongs.” 

He said, using that same entirely confident, righteous tone that he always did. Even though you were not really a working mother, you had a hard time not boiling with anger at the sexism ripe in his statement. 

“How much must you be missing of your sweet angels lives to instead partake in the horrors of devils you shouldn’t have to witness.” 

Of course. 

You had a hard time not rolling your eyes at this or saying something harsh that would set him off. Instead, you reached up to Spencer’s arm around your shoulder, squeezing his fingers, trying to keep your patience.

“I’ll have you know that Y/N is an amazing mother.” Spencer piped up, knowing that Cyrus respected him enough as a man that he wouldn’t beat him simply for speaking up. “Her nurturing and caring makes her infinitely better at her job.” 

Again, you knew that there was so much personal truth in Spencer’s words. He thought that you would make an amazing mother to his children - at least theoretically. He was entirely firm in that conviction. And he thought that your natural caring made you amazing at the job you did as a Profiler. He knew this from the quality of work he witnessed you doing every single day. 

You didn’t know it - but it was just one of the many things that had caused him to fall in love with you. 

Oddly enough, Cyrus’ words prodded at something deep inside of you. It made you imagine a life for yourself where you weren’t spending your days witnessing horrors from unspeakable devils - but instead, at home, looking out for Spencer’s imaginary children. 

You would have said it was the fear of the day, clouding your mind. But maybe it was the clarity of being so close to death that made you realize what - and who - you truly wanted out of life. 

… 

Hours later, after some of the hostages had been released (the ‘non-believers’ who had failed the loyalty test), Cyrus had requested that some food be sent up. Spencer gave you a sharp look when he saw the message written on one of the takeout lids. 

The team would be storming in to end the hold-out at 3am. You had to somehow ensure the safety of the hostages by then. 

Obviously, the fake pregnancy idea was still warping through Spencer’s mind, but you had come up with some much better. 

“Cyrus,” You called out his name gently, getting his attention. “You said that you have a nursery here?” 

It had come up, during his long winded bragging about how perfect the Ranch was. Something about how mothers didn’t have to raise their children alone. The children were raised as more of a ‘group effort’ and women took ‘shifts’ in the nursery, allowing the women to rest or get chores done in the interim. 

“Yes, we do.” He nodded. 

Spencer stared at you with his jaw set, wondering what you were doing but not daring to speak. 

“I - I’ve been missing my children dearly. I was wondering if I could go to your nursery and see if they need any help? It would do my soul good to be around young ones right now. After all the commotion of these days.” You spoke meekly, trying to play the part of the shaken up, dainty woman well. 

Which was too difficult, seeing as you were playing up the fear you had already experienced. 

He grinned. It was a rather menacing smile, and you tried your hardest not to show any further fear, or disgust. 

“That sounds like a splendid idea.” He nodded. “Christopher, why don’t you escort her down to the nursery and then come back? We need you here for our final preparations.” 

You were finally falling to those gender roles that he had been pushing on you since you had arrived. He didn’t suspect a thing. He simply thought that you were a God fearing woman falling to your natural womanly instincts, needing to care for children lest your womb shrivel up and you die. 

Spencer rose from his seat and Cyrus stopped him. 

“Just your wife.” He said, putting a hand in front of Spencer’s chest to stop him. “There are still some things you and I need to discuss. Man to man.” 

You went over to Spencer and didn’t hesitate to plant a kiss firmly on his mouth, which he returned with vigor. This one lasted only a moment - it was something precious for the two of you. You didn’t need to put on some pointed show for the men in the room. 

“It’s okay.” You told Spencer quietly, brushing your fingers gently over his uninjured cheek. 

You could tell that he was dying to ask you what your plan was. But he kept the words trapped in his throat, unable to speak in front of the many temperamental villains lurking about. 

“Come on.” Christopher grunted. 

Spencer gave you a longing look as you left. He didn’t want to think it, but as he watched your figure retreat out the door, he feared that it would be the last time he ever saw you. 

… 

Your plan worked flawlessly. 

Getting to the nursery meant that you had unsupervised access to the women and children, especially away from Cyrus’ prying ears. Because you were a ‘delicate’ woman, nobody suspected you of having ulterior motives. You easily found a crack in Kathy, Jessica’s mother. You spotted her as the one who had made the original 9-1-1 call, wanting to get her daughter away from Cyrus. You convinced her to help you get everyone out, and you felt intense relief when you were met with a familiar face in the cellar as everyone escaped through the tunnels. 

“Where’s Reid?” Morgan easily asked you, glancing behind your shoulder as if waiting for him to appear. 

“He’s still up at the church.” You told him. “I had to separate off to help get the women and children out-” 

“Go on, we have to get you out!” Morgan urged, trying to gently usher you along. 

“We have to go get Reid!” You argued, trying to turn around. 

“Go, go on, I’ll go get Reid!” He told you. 

You were about to argue back, but you were cut off by a scuffle behind you. 

Jessica was yelling about Cyrus - how her mother had betrayed her, tricked her. 

Morgan pushed Kathy toward you and ran off screaming for Jessica. You took Kathy’s arm, gently convincing her that everything was going to be okay as you guided her the rest of the way out. You had to focus on this, convincing yourself that everything was going to be okay. You had to tell yourself that Derek was going to get Spencer out - that they were both going to be okay. 

When you got outside, you were hyper focused on marching away, taking a path away from the church as directed by the officers in charge. You froze in your tracks when you heard it - an earth shattering boom. The ground beneath your feet shook. You felt a puff of hot air swell to touch your back. 

You let go of Kathy’s arm and whipped around, and you couldn’t even pay attention to where she went. You almost thought you heard her weeping, but your mind couldn’t process it as your eyes were glossed in bright orange flame. 

It was the church. 

“Spencer?” You gasped quietly. “Spencer!” 

You couldn’t help it, but you began to run toward it. Your feet carried you faster than you could think, and before you got more than a few feet across the ground, you felt a sharp grip on your upper arm. 

“L/N!” 

Hotch’s voice, sounding far too distant for the position he held right behind you, viciously gripping onto you as you fought against him, trying to get toward the fire - trying to get to Spencer. 

“Hey! Hey! Stop it!” Hotch tried to order you around, tried to get you to stand down. 

He got a hand around your waist, and you continued to kick like a wild horse, fighting against his grip as hot tears poured down your face. 

“He’s in there!” You sobbed. “Spencer is still in there.” 

“Calm. Down.” Hotch ordered sharply. 

You collapsed back into him sobbing, all of the fight leaving your muscles at once. You couldn’t fake the reality in front of you. 

“You running in there and getting hurt isn’t going to change anything.” Hotch told you quietly, a somehow distant murmur into your ear. 

Through the blur of your tears and the sharp orange glow, you saw the shape of two bodies. You heard coughing as someone emerged from the blast, hobbling down the stairs at the front of the church. You forced your eyes open wider, trying to see who it was, and then: 

“Y/N!” Spencer called out your name gruffly through the smoke he had inhaled, and you easily shucked off Hotch’s grip to race up the stairs to get to him. 

He was leaning on Morgan for support and you were worried that he was hurt. But the moment you were close enough, he tore himself away from Morgan and the two of you met in the middle. In a pattern that was easily developing, you fell into the safety of his arms, holding him tight enough to bruise him - never wanting to let go. 

“You’re so stupid, you’re so stupid! Why would you do that to me?” 

You sobbed out, gripping both sides of his face, staring into his eyes, needing the recognition that he was right there, right in front of you. 

He stared back with glassiness - intense fear, adrenaline, and something small that told you he was thankful for you, and needed you now more than ever. 

Of course, your words were simple anger at the situation, not at Spencer himself. The terror of thinking that he was dead still pumping through your veins, causing you to shake. 

“I know.” He said quietly. “I love you.” 

His voice wrapped around the words so tenderly - it was the most sincere declaration you had ever heard from him. As if to say ‘I know how much that scared you. I know what this ordeal has done to us and I only meant it more because of how scared I am’. 

“I love you too.” The words flew from your lips so naturally it hurt. You took a moment to recover, entirely shocked by your own lips. And then, you only found the need to say it growing more inside of you. “Spencer, I love you.” 

You pulled him toward you with the grip you had on his face, and he easily met you in one of the most earth shattering kisses you had ever experienced. 

It was no longer a show, it was no longer about displaying the fake marriage for someone else’s benefit - if it had ever been about that in the first place. It was about the two of you. It was about feeling that comfort, that safety. It was about the fact that your two souls were drawn together since the day you had met. The fact that you had always felt safe with each other. You had always been the other person’s shelter from the storm. 

And you poured every ounce of those feelings into that kiss. 

You combed your fingers through Spencer’s hair, taking a harsh grip on the back of it, holding him there so he couldn’t pull away from your lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist, fisting the back of your sweater. Both of you entirely refused to come up for oxygen, not even caring who saw the epically passionate, public display of your love for each other. 

Unbeknownst to you, Morgan and Hotch exchanged a look with raised brows as it happened. You and Spencer didn’t care. You were barely perceiving the world around you as the two of you kissed. 

“You know if you’re not careful, people are actually gonna think you two are married.” Morgan said, being his usual sarcastic self. 

Rather than pulling away from Spencer’s lips to sass him back - you simply flipped Derek off over Spencer’s shoulder. 

On the ride home, JJ handed Derek five dollars. He had the over/under that the two of you would get together before the end of the year. JJ said that it wouldn’t happen for another five years, at least. Derek handed the fiver to Emily when she reminded him that the ‘fake marriage’ bit had actually been her idea. 

When Emily and JJ relayed the story to Penelope, she squealed so loudly into the phone that JJ dropped it. 

Hotch pulled you aside later and warned you that the fake rings were just cheap costume jewelry that Garcia had gotten and they would tarnish soon if you kept wearing them. He also recommended that you and Spencer put in the paperwork with HR if you were ‘serious’ about the relationship. You knew that it was him wishing the two of you his best. 

A few days later when you came into work and found the HR request for an update of relationship status sitting on your desk, already signed by Spencer, you couldn’t help but to smile.

...

A/N: okay, I do have to admit, the ending kind of sucks imo (like the last few paragraphs) because I highly resisted the urge to end this with 'baby making' smut where y/n is like if 'you want kids for real, then we can have kids', and then Spencer just goes nuts. because I did like the more cheesy/romantic love confession ending, and I was getting way too tired to write smut for this. idk if I should do that 'x amount of reblogs for part 2' thing or if I'm just happy with this being a standalone oneshot?? idk. if people ask for a part 2, then I will set a reblog goal for it. and I will work on a part 2 for it after Lesson Two is posted.

[fufesworld]

9-1-1 season 4 finale thoughts

So after 4x13 and the promos for next week episode and how we are all losing our minds i have some thoughts about buck/eddie/buddie (english is not my first language so bare with me)

i love buck and buddie as much as the next person but PLEASE PLEASE dont forget that this episode is about eddie and him being shot, of course this will bring a lot of suffering for buck, but dont take the spotlight from eddie. but something that in general we all have been asking (at least thats what i saw) is for more eddie screentime and for him to deal with his ptsd from the war and this is the perfect oportunity to delve into that

talking about buddie, i have two things to say. one, if they dont end up together this season or next ones, i beg you DONT COME FOR THE ACTORS/SHOW, yes it’ll suck cause it something we have all been waiting for but that does not give anyone the permission to harass the actors (REAL PEOPLE with emotions). besides its just as important to have mlm relationships on screen as it is to have strong and love-filled platonic ones. its not often that you see male friendships which are as strong as theirs, where they are allowed to be emotional and find support on the other.

also dont bash the show because let me tell 911 is an amazing show that does not revolve around one ship.

dont forget one of the reason this show is so loved by its fans is all the beautiful stories in it. Only the portrayal of how a family doesnt look one way is amazing: we have bobby and athena and michael and david and the kids,hen and karen with denny and them being foster parent (and the reality of that situation), maddie and chim who had a kid without being married fist, eddie being a single parent with chris, all of the dynamics between the members of the 118 and the dispatch and probably more that im forgetting right now.

this without mentioning all of the important subjects they talk about like the racism that michael and the kids faced when they were stopped by the police, and how hen and chimney had to fight for their place once on the 118, or how in last episode the doctor didnt care about hens mom because she is black.

the show also doesnt shy from talking about mental health and how helpful going to therapy is, and more recently how post-pregnancy can affect a person and their mental health.

tl; dr, dont forget buck is not the only character on 911 and even if buddie doesnt happen that doesnt mean the show is horrible (or that their relationship is not important) and you should stop watching (i mean you do you) because there are a lot of amazing storylines to enjoy in it

[perhapsthanatos]

10:32 pm with yuta ♡

nct’s yuta x fem!reader (got inspired by a dream of mine & found the idea really cute)

alternate title: be the james dean to my audrey hepburn

genre: fluff. a pinch of angst. non idol au. badboy!yuta au.

word count: 1400~

playlist: chinatown by wild nothing, lover’s rock by tv girl & work this time by king gizzard and the lizard wizard.

warnings: featuring johnny (not a warning though). smoking cigarettes. cursing. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: hi i was supposed to post a vampire!haechan fic but i really wasnt happy w it in general :( the plot or overall idea of the fic was really good, but i just felt as if i didnt do it justice so here we are :( but ngl, i kind of like this concept more? maybe bc i can see it more vividly? idk, i feel like my writings r getting repetitive & its getting on my nerves lmaoo this is getting long im sorry do u guys even read this part anyway? i would also like to apologize abt the amount of projecting im doing lmao ive been having some rough days & i love my sister but hate being compared to her so often so this is a way for me to rant abt it ig? also so sorry its coming out a little later bc i woke up late today (& procrastinated for the rest of it so here i am posting really late at night) & decided to go to the convenience store to get ice cream (& a ton of other bad shit pls dont do this its rlly unhealthy) for breakfast bc i can :) any who, enjoy lovelies <3

“oh my, y/n! you’ve grown up so well! just like your sister!”

“oh! i’m sorry i’ve almost mistaken you for your sister! y/n is your name, correct?”

“y/n, darling, you are looking so dashing! you really do resemble your sister, don’t you?”

“ah, you must be y/n! i’ve heard all about you and your sister from your father!”

you swear that your reddening cheeks are threatening to fall off any moment now from all the fake smiling. the hundreds of superficial compliments, the insincere flattery and the need for these people to constantly compare you to your godforsaken sister makes you feel even weaker than you are. it gets harder and harder to keep up with a big persona that isn’t at all you. as lucky as you are to live such a lavish lifestyle, you can’t help but hate how your family has to be so perfect. you hate how you have never fit in with them, even if you are so good at faking it. you hate how you have always been stuck in your sister’s shadow, constantly haunted with the reminder that you yourself aren’t good enough. you hate how you now have to entertain the rich and brainless guests at your parent’s gala because she’s gone for some stupid prodigy competition and everyone is only talking about her in front of your face. so what if she’s better the better sister? you still have the right to earn respect, right?

you’re exhausted from all the small talk. your facade gets more brittle by the second under all the pressure. your body feels as if it's gonna give out due to your brain shutting down after all that interacting. you try to keep on going with the night as it unravels itself by being the perfectly poised poster child, trying to make your parents proud. but alive yet almost completely devoid, you decide enough was enough. what if you left right now? no one would notice, would they?

after pulling up your phone discreetly to send a few text messages, you pass through lots of people dressed in gold and finery in a way that wouldn’t have you noticed right away. keep your head down and don’t you dare make eye contact with anyone. nearing the end of the room, grabbing the first glass of whatever alcohol you see and downing it in one gulp, you start walking away as quickly as possible from the ballroom. “ignorant privileged fucks,” you angrily whisper to no one in particular, setting the now empty glass on whatever surface and begin to head to the main exit where no one could spot you running away.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, miss?”

a voice interrupts you, looking up you see that it is your father’s head butler; johnny. he is dressed in a simple black suit that makes him appear taller than he is. his long brown hair is slicked back and his bowtie seems brand new. you have known the man since he started working in your household less than ten years back. you were a reckless child, often trying to find ways to sneak out, finding a way to escape from this life and he sympathized with you. after all, he could barely imagine living your life, never catching a break for yourself and always pretending to be someone you weren’t. he often helped planning when you would sneak out into the night, scheduling things like what time you should leave and what time you should be back, more specifically a time when no one would notice. he would take care of your form of transportation and have your location on at all times, just to be extra safe. as much as he wants you to have fun and have a bit of freedom, he still worries that something might happen to you. because of all this, you two have grown to have a very strong bond. you could confidently say that he is most definitely a parental figure in your life since your parents (and even your sister) are often overseas for work.

“what do you think i’m doing? you think i wanna be in a room with those half-baked bipeds? fuck no!”

“i know, i was just joking. you looked like you were about to explode in there, i wish i could help.” he laughs, pulling out his phone preparing what you might need. “so what will it be for today? the driver? we just need to pay him to keep his mouth shut. a taxi? it’s cheaper than paying the driver, but you still need to pay… not like that’s a problem for you though. maybe an uber would be good enough—“

“actually, i got myself covered. thanks.”

his jaw slightly drops and his eyebrows furrow. he looks straight at you in shock. “what do you mean you got yourself covered?”

you look down at your feet, a nervous habit. “i got myself a ride, you don’t need to help me. i’ll be back as soon as dawn comes.”

he raises his eyebrow. “who’s your ride?”

“doesn’t matter,” you glance down at your phone seeing a notification and wave a goodbye, leaving rather suddenly. “i gotta go, i’ll text you when you need to open the gates!”

“y/n! wait! who’s your ride— and she’s gone.” johnny sighs, watching as you run towards the front gates, tossing your stiletto heels away on the grass while you’re at it. he heads back inside, silently hoping you’ll be fine.

knocking the window of the old black mustang parked outside behind the big bushes, the driver rolls down his window and sends the most charming smile.

yuta in his black beanie, long blonde hair, worn out doc martens, signature leather jacket and black skinny jeans. it almost makes you laugh on how he wears the same thing almost everyday but still manages to look so good.

he is most notable for having a big bad boy reputation and you knew that he was the breath of fresh air you needed in your life. a person who can understand having the pressure of having to be or to fulfill your persona. a person you can completely be yourself around. a person who is full of warmth no matter how cold he may seem on the outside.

“get in, princess.”

and that was all you needed. you tiredly walked to the other door and sat yourself in the car. rolling his window back up, he looks at you. you are wearing a simple yet stunning black dress along with silver jewelry adorned on your neck and wrists. your makeup is perfectly done but still struggles to hide the fog in your eyes. he has the sudden urge to clear them away. he softens at the sight of you. no one is perfect, but he finds you being perfect enough without ever having to dress up.

“where to?” he asks as gently as he could. he knows that you are most vulnerable during these moments and that it is hard to finally break down your walls after a day full of stress, so he doesn’t pry immediately. all he wants to do is to keep you here, safe and away from your burdens and for you to stay comfortable with him, even if it couldn't be for long. but is that too selfish of him to ask? he hates how you hate your life and it is taking every bone in his body to not run away with you. but who is he to tell you what to do or what to change anyway? all he can do for now is try to find a way to make you genuinely smile.

“take me anywhere,” you whisper to the latter. “i just want to be as far from myself and my life as possible. miles away or the nearest convenience store, just take the long way home before dawn.”

you look down at the cup holders, spotting an open cigarette box. you tug one out of the nineteen and light it with the lighter you kept in your pocket. you lean back and close your eyes. he only admires as you bring the cigarette to your lips, exhaling a cloud of smoke afterwards. letting the radio play quietly, he starts the car and begins to drive away from the mansion. he can’t help but wonder how you (an elegant daughter) and him (a bad boy) are millions of worlds apart, but more similar than you think.

© perhapsthanatos (efa)

[words-for-holland]

Happier (8) | T.H.

Summary: Tom, Harrison & Harry have a talk about Y/N. Our broken up couple has their first physical conversation with each other. Natalie has a little talk with a certain someone. Does another truth unfold?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Masterlist

A/N: To the readers, thank you for all the support! More drama to come!

Confrontation

No one likes it, but sometimes it’s needed to get a point across. Another use, to threaten another and instill fear, but we’ll get to that when we cross that bridge.

Harrison and Harry settled Tom down in the kitchen, ready to confront him about everything that’s happened. Tom fidgets with his fingers, unsure of what’s to come. All he knew, was he was furious that they both went to see Y/N, and didnt tell him. “Look”, Tom starts off, clearly impatient waiting on their prepared speech. “I just want to know why you left to see Y/N and didn’t tell me. Why am I being kept in the dark with everything?”

“Becuse you couldn’t figure it out. Even after being baby fed the information.” Harry says abruptly, his arms crossed as he stared down at his brother

Tom scoffs at the response, rolling his eyes. “How can I figure anything out when you all keep it a secret from me?! Mind you that all of this involves MY girlfriend and OUR relationship! And you have the balls to go out to find Y/N in secret and not tell me because I cant figure out a fucking thing in this chaotic fucking mess?!” Tom rants out, eyes and voice filled with anger and jealousy. He wasn’t sure if his yelling was towards the boys or if it was more toward himself, because deep down Tom knew he should have tried harder, but didn’t.

“No. Don’t you dare turn this on us, and make us look like we’re the bad guys.” Harrison snaps as he looks down at his best mate. “Just because you don’t know half the things that are going on, doesn’t mean you can be mad at us. Even when the words are written in stone, you’re still a complete div to not be able to comprehend it.”

“I dont understand.” Tom mutters as he looks at the table, trying his hardest to figure all this out. He had already talked to Natalie days ago about Kate and the pictures, but said she had nothing to do with it. They couldnt possibly mean there was more to the story other than Natalie being a complete piece of work.

“Read the fucking signs, Tom!” Harrison yells out. “I know you talked to Y/N that night about Kate and what did you say?”

Tom looks up at him, realizing what this is about. It wasn’t just about the pictures. It was more than that, something Tom should have realized and reacted to the moment it happened. “I said I was sorry and didn’t know what to say.” He mutters, his face now displaying a sense of guilt. “Fuck!” He whispers.

“Yeah start crying about it now you div!” Harry comments roughly, before continuing his speech. “Kate didn’t just backstab Y/N. She went behind the both of you. She was the spark that ruined your relationship, and you don’t know what to say to that?”

Tom shakes his head, realizing his mistake. For someone that works to display his emotions on screen, he failed miserably when it came to real life situations. It was miscommunication for him, the boys, and Y/N. In his mind, he was more pissed that Y/N was left there to think that he didnt care as much when in actuality he cared a lot. More than anyone would ever know, he cared the most. “No you all don’t understand that wasn’t my intention. Fuck!” He screams in frustration.

“Really and what was your intention then?” Harrison questioned, sarcastically intrigued to know Tom’s excuse.

“She lost her best friend. Fuck, she lost the only other person in her childhood that stood up for her, before this whole bullshit. That right there was more important than our relationship. I know shes the reason I got into this PR mess, the runors exploding, and pushed Y/N away fron me, but Kate betrayed Y/N’s friendship and trust. I didn’t say shit because I didnt want to make it about us. I wanted it to be about her and what she needed.” Tom spilled out, sighing deeply. Silence filled the air, and neither spoke for a minute, sinking in everything that’s happened.

“What she needed was you, Tom.” Harry said as both he and Harrison made their way out the kitchen, not until leaving Tom with a final warning. “We get that Kate maybe the reason she started all of this....but that doesn’t mean it ends with her.”

It left Tom wondering. Again, he had just talked to Natalie about the whole blackmail pictures but said she had nothing to do with it. Then again, she always wanted him to push away from Y/N. A talk he hoped would clear some answers, only left him with more questions. He knew who he had to talk to if he wanted straight answers, and she was going to give them whether she liked it or not.

Y/N had managed to avoid Tom the first week of her return in London. Sadly, it could only be said for that one week, and she had no one to thank, but a sink filled with dirty dishes to wash. Tom made his way into the kitchen by chance to grab sa quck bite to eat when he saw Y/N. It was his chance, he had to take it. It was now or never.

As he walked in, he made eye contact with her to which she responded with a slight smile and a nod. It was silent, nothing but the clashes of dishes and water running. “Do you want some help?” Tom asked with a smile. Might as well make the first move, he was a gentleman after all.

Y/N nodded as she handed him a dish towel, implying for him to dry and stack the dishes away while she washed. They continued this routine for a while, until Tom couldn’t take it anymore. “What happened to us Y/N? We were never like this in person. Hell the phone conversations we had the past weeks are more lively than this.” He confesses as he looks into her eyes.

Y/N shakes her head as she returns to her dishes. “There’s just nothing to say anymore. We’ve said everything we needed to say....Now things are just clockwork.”

“That’s not true. I know you still are keeping things from me. There’s more to this than Kate...” He waits for her to answer, but judging from the hesitation and the look of fear that dwelled in her eyes, his assumption was correct.

“You want to know everything?” Y/N asks as she looks in his eyes.

“Yes. I want to help you. I want us to be back to where we used to be before you left.”

Y/N sniffles as she shakes her head. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” He asks softly, hoping she will open up.

Y/N looks at Tom, taking a deep breath before she decides to tell him. She thought of the possibilities and the consequences that would come about. Kate was gone but it didnt mean Unknown wasn’t still out there. Everything had been so quiet the past few days, it almost seemed like she could breathe without having someone threaten her. Then again maybe her subconcious was right. Maybe it wasn’t a person anymore...Maybe it was just her.

Her mind wandered to Tom, who was staring at her waiting patiently for her story. Opening up her mouth, would be unleashing Pandora’s box and all hell could break loose. Blackmail, shattered dream, shattered relationship, broken trust, it would all come to the surface. The worst part...it wouldnt just stop there. But in this moment, Y/N didnt care. She had kept things bottled up from him for as long as she had. He deserved to know, he was a part of this as much as everyone. Maybe if Y/N kept Tom at bay, it would just be enough to statisfy Unknown and keep things as they were. Safe.

“Before I left...” Y/N starts off, her lower back leaning against the sink, eyes looking down as she lets out a deep sigh. “ There were already rumors of you and Natalie. Speculations that you’d be an item.”

“And you believed that?” Tom interrupts, his eyes rolling, unamused by how the story was starting. “Y/N if you were just jealous. Why didn’t you just say —“

“You think I didn’t know that?” Y/N fires back, scowling her eyes towards Tom, only to receive a knowing look from him that indicated to stop lying to herself. “Whatever. Yeah maybe I was a little when I saw how close you two got and how it just built the rumors. Did I want to tell you? Sure, but that didnt mean I could.”

“Im not following.” Tom comments, his messy eyebrow raised in confusion. “So you wanted to tell me..but couldn’t?”

Y/N nods, taking in another deep breath. “As the days went by, I started getting unknown text messages. At first they started off vague, saying how I didn’t belong with you. Look how much happier you were with Natalie. Did he ever do that with you? Did he ever smile at you like that? I bet he doesn’t love you anymore.”

Y/N’s eyes water as she relived the conversations, small sniffles escaping her nose. Tom was at a loss for words. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why someone would text complete lies to her. He was getting mad by the second as he heard each insulting sentence that came out of her mouth. “Y/N..” he says.

She shook her head as she continued. “But the insults started to become threats. They knew everything about me and was willing to use you as blackmail. If I didn’t breakup with you...they’d make sure you’d never live out your dream again. And for the life of me I wasn’t going to let that happen.” She cried, hiding her sobbing face in hands.

Tom quickly rushes to her, taking away her hands so he could look into her eyes. He held her close, cradled her tiny body into his arms as she tried to slow her breathing. “Then I found out Kate was behind the pictures and the start of the rumors, and now we’re here. I don’t know what to do anymore Tom. Everything’s just been so fucked up.”

“Hey, its okay. Im okay. I’m not gonna let them hurt you like this.” He cooed. “I dont give a fuck if it ruins my career or not. I care about you. You come first, that’s not going to change. But it’s over now, right? Let’s just move on from it. Ill break the PR, I’ll make sure Kate doesn’t walk away from this without serious consequences, I wont keep you a secret if it means it’ll fix everything.”

Y/N pushes away from Tom, reluctantly. She knew how much he cared for her. He was willing to risk everything just to make sure they would be okay, and in a perfect world, maybe that would have been enough. Could live happily ever after and not have to worry about anything anymore. Both could just walk away from it all if they wanted, but this wasn’t a perfect world. “Just because Kate started it, doesn’t mean it’s over. Unknown could still be out there.” She whispers, afraid of anyone listening.

“Then we find out. Together.” He responds, holding her hand. “I let you slip away once. Im not letting it happen again.”

He looked into her eyes, almost silently asking to hug her once more. Two embrace each other, and stay like that for a while. It had been so long since they felt this sort of comfort, which brought up a familiar and warm feeling for each them. So warm, so familiar...they almost didn’t want to let go. Y/N breathed into him, taking in his cologne, the one she had grown to love over the three years. It felt right. It was home.

But not all moments can last forever. Behind the thin walls was Natalie, who had overheard and seen the entire conversation. Hearing Tom, mention how he’d break the PR for Y/N and how he’d do anything, risk everything to find Unknown, rubbed her the wrong way. The way Tom held Y/N close, made Natalie furious, and as soon as she heard her phone ring, she answered. “He knows you exist.”

“A slight hiccup. He’s so caught up in Y/N, he just can’t see the real you.” The voice reassured. “Dont worry, he’ll love you when she’s out of the picture.”

“There is no out of the picture anymore. You should have heard him...He wont let her go this time.” Natalie answers, discouraged more than ever.

“Then we just have to up the antics. Clearly her dim-witted friend ruined the original plan. Thats the last time I ever trust an American do the dirty work. She can start a fire but can’t be beothered to finish a job. ” The voice scoffs. “If the messages don’t work, threaten her in person. Alone. Make sure Tom doesn’t see you.” The voice orders.

“You know it wont work. She’s not as afraid as she was before.” Natalie whispers as she continues to watch them from a distance.

“Then we’ll give her something to be afraid of. Why do you doubt me?” The voice asked, challenging Natalie. “Is this what you wanted?”

Natalie hesitates. Of course she wanted Tom more than anything in the world, but to what point? To what cost? These questions swirled around her mind as she thought back to how Y/N and Tom interacted in the kitchen. Their bond was so strong, they always found a way back to each other. For a moment...she felt almost bad. “Of course I want Tom.” She answers “but.. I want him to love me the way he loves Y/N.”

The voice scoffs at her response.loud enough for Natalie to hear the disgust in her voice. “Haven’t I taught you anything? Love is superficial gets you nowhere in life. You’re lucky enough that we’re settling for Tom.”

“I...I guess.”

“Then you’ll make sure Y/N stays away. Im doing this for you Natalie. Fame, fortune, your career, and your superficial love life. I want what’s best for you.” The voice becomes calmer more gentle, yet the sinisterness was still very present.

“Yes...mother.” Natalie says sourily.

“Darling, how many times have I told you to only refer to me as your publicist? Now go, before someone finds out about this.” The line drops, and Natalie focuses her eyes on Y/N who leaves for her room. Her eyes narrow, and fill with jealously and guilt. Her mother’s words replying her mind. “He will love you...just get rid of the girl.”

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @ifilosemyselfagain @hevjadams @averyfosterthoughts​ @fangirl-with-a-mission @drishtisikarwar @eridanuswave​ @ifntelyinspirit @trumpettay @astridcommings @parkershoco @racewife2004 @sleepybesson @greatpizzascissorstaco @andievgs @joyleenl @holland-bowen @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @viwihere @marvelobsessedteenager

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Christmas At the Burrow - Fred Weasley

On the sixth day of Christmas . . .

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader Word Count: 2,409 Synopsis: After the joke shop gets attacked, Fred and the reader are forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow with his extended family.

A loud clang from downstairs drew your attention, and your heart started to beat loudly as you raced down the stairs. There was always sound coming from the joke shop downstairs, but this one was different. As you reached the door, you stopped, listening carefully.

“Freddie?” you called softly. There was no longer any sound coming from the shop at all. You shoved open the door, your wand at the ready. Fred and George were both on the ground. “What the hell is going on?”

“Avada Kedavra!” You dropped to the ground as a bright green jet fired above your head. 

“You okay?” George asked, looking up at you. You nodded as you tried to crawl across the destroyed floor of the joke shop. 

“What’s wrong with him?” you asked, motioning to Fred who wasn’t moving much. 

“Took a hit to the head, he’ll be alright.” You got over to the twins hiding behind the register, taking Fred’s hand. He smiled through the pain coming from the bleeding cut on his head.

“I know you’re still here, bitch!” You looked over at George who shook his head at you. You winked before standing and stunning the Death Eater quickly approaching you. 

“Is he the only one?” you asked, taking his wand. 

“I think so. Come on, Fred,” George said, helping his brother stand. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“And you said keeping the business open wouldn’t be safe,” Fred said with a laugh. You rolled your eyes as you obliviated the Death Eater’s mind. 

“Let’s go.”

“I told him, I told him a thousand times! It’s a good thing this happened. The next time, it would have been murder!” Mrs. Weasley yelled as she cleaned the cut on Fred’s forehead. 

“Mum, we get it, you don’t have to keep going,” George said, shooting you a look. 

“Clearly I do! It’s a lucky thing Y/N was upstairs or who knows what could have happened to you.”

“Y’know, Mum, this is kind of hurting my head more than the spell did.” She smacked his arm, but shut up as she finished bandaging him. 

“You’re not going back there. The lot of you,” she said finally before walking out of the room. 

“At least we’ll be closer to the Order,” George said, relaxing on the couch. You sighed, standing up. You left the living room and walked up the steps of the burrow, finding Fred’s old bedroom.

“Ginny,” you said with a smile when you walked in. 

“Hey,” she said, sitting up in bed. “How are you?”

“We’re fine. I thought that Mrs. Weasley would be putting us in here.”

“Mum turned my room into a hotel for any visiting Order members. There’s an extra bed in Charlie’s room for George. I think she was going to put you two up in Ron’s room.”

“With the ghoul?” Ginny laughed as she politely pushed you out of the room. As the door shut Fred touched your arm. His left arm was leaning on the shelf over your head, a smile on his face.

“Dad forced the ghoul into the attic again.” You nodded, walking past him. “Y/N?”

“Hmm?” you asked, continuing to walk.

“You alright?” He grabbed your hand, stopping you halfway to Ron’s bedroom. 

“Yeah.”

“I promise we won’t be here long.” You brushed his cheek and walked to Ron’s bedroom. The bright orange walls burned your eyes, and you instantly turned off the light to make it more subtle. 

“We aren’t going back to the shop, Fred,” you said, sitting down on Ron’s twin bed. 

“Not tonight.”

“Not ever.” He frowned as he sat down next to you.

“What are you talking about?”

“That’s the sixth break-in in a month. There’s no way we’re going back there.” He pushed some of your hair behind your ears and frowned.

“Things will settle down. We’ll be back just in time for Christmas.”

“Six days?” You rolled your eyes and flopped down on the bed.

“I promise, everything will be fine. Besides, I left your Christmas presents there.” You groaned, sitting up and grabbing his collar. You pulled him down on top of you, looking him in the eyes.

“Fred, I don’t care about the presents. We’re not going back there because I’m not going to risk losing you again. I’m scared.” Fred frowned, pulling you into his chest. He kissed your head as you cried gently.

“I’m sorry. You’ve been so strong. I didn’t realize-”

“How hard it is for me?” you finished. He nodded as you laughed. “Freddie, I know it’s hard on all of us, but you’re being stubborn. We don’t have to put ourselves at risk.”

“So you’d rather live with my Mum?” You laughed again, snuggling into his chest.

“If it means we all stay alive? Yes.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you weren’t the one who befriended Harry Potter seven years ago. How were you supposed to know that he would become your brother’s best friend and bring mortal danger into the lives of your family.” He snorted as he threw the horrendously orange blanket around the two of you.

“Are you sure you don’t mind pink?” Mrs. Weasley asked you, frantically knitting by the fireplace three days before Christmas.

“I like pink,” you replied, wrapping up a pair of mittens you had horribly knitted for Fred. 

“I’ll just make you a blue one, too.”

“Mrs. Weasley that’s really not necessary.” She ignored you as she reached into her basket and pulled out a large ball of blue yarn. You sighed, reaching for another box that Mrs. Weasley gave you to wrap. 

Fred walked in a few minutes later, followed by George and Ginny. You smiled at them, glad for the distraction from Mrs. Weasley’s crying and ranting. 

“Hey, Mum, Remus is here in the kitchen,” Ginny said.

“Oh, good, help me fix him dinner,” she said, scrambling out of the room. Fred sat on the floor next to you, kissing your lips.

“How’d the search go?”

“There’s not much left. They torched most of the stuff.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. We wanted to make all new product anyway. How’s it going in here?” You frowned, making him laugh. “Nothing like our flat above the joke shop.”

“At least it’s safe here.” Fred frowned, leaning in to kiss you again. However, before he could, Mrs. Weasley called you. “I’ll see you later.” 

“She hates it here,” George said once you had walked into the living room. Fred groaned, running his hands over his face.

“I know.”

“Still gonna pop the question to her on Christmas day?” George asked as Fred sat next to him on the couch. 

“Well, I’d like her to say yes.” George laughed just as Mrs. Weasley barked out a few more orders. You came into the room, holding a box of ornaments to still go on the tree, and tossed them to Fred.

“Everything alright, love?” he asked, picking off a green bobble on his shirt.

“Great, Freddie,” you said bitterly, stalking back into the kitchen.

“I’d wait,” George said, beginning to help him put the rest of the decorations on the tree.

Christmas Eve was supposed to be better, Fred told himself. The two of you had a great morning, even if it was in Ron’s old bed. He was hoping to invite you for an even longer stay in bed when Bill knocked on the door. Struggling to pull his boxers on, Fred opened the door.

“Morning,” Bill said, glancing over at you, still covered in Ron’s orange sheets. You forced a smile, hiding your face in the pillow afterward.

“What do you want?”

“A break. Mum has been bossing Fleur and me around since dawn, and we’d like to do a little bit of celebrating of our own, too.” 

“Gross,” Fred said, reluctantly picking his clothes off of the floor. “We’ll be down in a bit.” Bill shut the door behind him, and you revealed your face from behind the pillow. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you said, walking over to him. “Happy Christmas Eve.” He kissed you softly, holding you to his chest.

“Happy Christmas Eve.”

Mrs. Wesley was so stressed about keeping the Christmas traditions alive in these trying times that she completely forgot about keeping them fun. She had everyone decorate cookies in the kitchen, and while Fred had his arms around you to give your gingerbread a beard just like Hagrid’s, she came over and told you that you were wasting frosting.

Dinner was worse. You were in charge of making mashed potatoes, but when you served them, Mrs. Weasley said that Ron liked them lumpy, and yours were too smooth. You cut into your plate four times that night, and Fred had to charm it out each time. 

You were sitting by the tree with Fred after dinner, drinking a cup of tea spiked with Fire Whiskey. George and Ginny were playing a game of exploding snap, Bill and Fleur were discussing in hushed tones with Remus and Kingsley.

“Present time!” Mrs. Weasley said, bustling into the room. She passed one around to everyone, a wide smile on her face. You each opened a pair of pajama pants. Fred and George’s were matching with an embroidered logo of Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Yours were embroidered with twinkling purple stars. For what felt like the first time in a while, you beamed widely.

“Alright, you lot, time for bed. Christmas comes early!” Mrs. Weasley said, ushering you all out of the living room. You followed behind a row of redheads, and were at the top of the stairs when you realized you left your wand downstairs. If it were normal times you wouldn’t mind, but with a war going on, it was always best to be armed.

“Oh, Mrs. Weasley,” you said, nearly running into her at the end of the stairs.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?”

“Yes, I just forgot my wan- Are you alright, Mrs. Weasley?” She sniffed back a few tears, nodding.

“No. It’s Christmas and my son and his friends who I love as children are missing, my children who are home hate being here, I don’t know if this is going to be our last-”

“Hey, hey,” you said, helping her to sit down. “We don’t hate it here. We’re all just as worried as you.”

“Really?”

“Really. And this isn’t going to be our last Christmas together, I promise.” She smiled, hugging you tightly. 

“Thank you, Y/N. Go on, now, I’ll be fine. Fred’ll be missing you.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Weasley,” you said, running up the stairs quickly. Fred was in his new pajamas, creating a small ball of light at the end of his wand when you walked in.

“Hey, where’d you go?” he asked, sitting up in bed. 

“Ran into your mum on my way to grab my wand.” He nodded and scooted over so you could climb in bed next to him. You changed out of your jumper and jeans and slipped on a Holyhead Harpies t-shirt and your new pajamas.

“I love you,” you said, crawling into bed with him.

“I love you,” he said, a look of subtle confusion on his face. “What did my mum say?”

“She just reminded me what’s really important.” He kissed your forehead, still not fully understanding what you were saying. Before he could ask though, you had closed your eyes.

Christmas morning broke, and for once you weren’t woken up by any other Weasley than the one you wanted. Fred was humming a Christmas carol as he played with your messy bedhead.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning.”

“Happy Christmas.” You smiled at him, letting him kiss you softly. 

“No crazy orders this morning?” you asked.

“Nope.”

“Well this might be the best morning ever,” you said, holding his cheeks as you kissed him again.

“Oh, it will be.” You raised an eyebrow at him as he climbed over your body and stumbled out of bed. For the first time, you looked over your shoulder and saw the tiny tree that Fred had conjured up.

“What is this?” you asked, sitting up happily.

“Well, we aren’t at our flat, but I still wanted our first Christmas as an adult couple to be just ours.”

“Adult couple sounds gross,” you said, crawling out of bed and over to him on the floor.

“Well, how about I call us something else?” 

“Wh-” Fred reached around the little tree, bringing out a small, square box. “Is that for me?”

“It is,” he said, handing it to you with a smile. You ripped off the paper, and opened the ring box, finding a petite gold ring. “I know it’s supposed to be five gold rings, but I thought one was better than none.” You laughed, feeling a prick of tears in your eyes.

“I thought all of the presents were destroyed.”

“In the shop, yeah, I’ve been carrying this around with me for quite some time. May I?” You nodded as he took the ring out of the box. 

“Y/N,” he began, a few tears forming in his eyes, “I love you so, so much. The things you’ve done for me, and the ways you’ve supported me, you’ve helped me more than you’ll ever know. I am so grateful that you cursed me in Harry’s D.A. club and that I got to spend every moment after that trying to get you to love me.” You laughed as he picked up your hand. 

“I love you, and I want to start repaying you for all the things you’ve done for me. I never want you to feel scared or alone or anything and not know that I’ll be right there. I want you to be a part of my crazy family. I want to spend every day knowing that I have the most amazing woman by my side. I want to make you happy.” 

“You do,” you said, laughing softly. Fred laughed, too, squeezing your hand.

“Will you marry me, Y/N?”

“Yes.” He slipped the ring on your finger before pulling you in for a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas.”

“Fred! Y/N!” You were leaning in to kiss him again when Mrs. Weasley called.

“Welcome to the family,” Fred said with a smile.

“There’s no other family I’d rather be with,” you said, kissing his lips before hopping up to go help Mrs. Weasley make everyone else’s Christmas become as spectacular as yours.

[sovtwords]

i just read you found me and bestie 😳 i sat here for a good three and a half hours and read the whole thing in one go AND IT DID NOT DISAPPOINT AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT !! kind of a rant ahead so i’m sorry in advance hehe

the whole story was so beautifully thought out and i absolutely fell in love w each person’s characterization. the time atsumu frowned when he saw lilies on mcs desk flew over my head but i later on noticed and gasped so loud my dog woke up LOL i just realized you never used y/n (right or did i just never notice) and i think you are powerful for that. it just gives the mc more freedom and room to be interpreted in whatever way while still maintaining a personality that fits the story. also himari’s my absolute fave and she’s best girl sorry i dont make the rules

in you should have found me my heart absolutely broke for osamu because it’s so clear how different the twins reaction would be depending on who got the girl. osamu was always a bit more selfless in general but in that fic the way it was established that even years later atsumu would still be affected by it just screams ab how different they really are. i hope osamu got a happy ending w someone he loves and loves him back, he deserves it

the whole thing was a ride, the way that there was so much push and pull and frustration made me scream omg. the situation with tomi was so stressful and nobody should have to go with that kind of abuse (bc it is abuse no matter how anyone looks at it! and i love that you recognized it as so) and blackmail. the fact that mc didnt blame atsumu for getting with tomi because she too was with someone else (fuck daishou and mika too lw i thought she was cooler than that 😡) so its nice that she didnt outright blame him, bc i sure as hell would LOL but anyway. the way that these two felt so strongly ab each other and were so patient and still loved each other thru all the shit theyve gone thru makes me so happy bc a love like that is so pure

high school tsumu was a little shit and he (respectfully) needed to get decked but the way that he learned and did better and even tried to make tomi realize that too was much needed and appreciated. the thing with this fic tho is that no one can really blame anyone for how they acted (except tomi and daishou like cmon man do better) bc its so raw and human of them. atsumu was young and in love but didnt know it and was terrified of what everyone would think of him, which is valid esp bc his whole life, people have been telling him that osamu is the better twin with a better personality and whatnot. and you cant blame mc for leaving bc getting bullied like that and having the one person you trust turn their back on you hurts

still my heart absolutely goes out to osamu. i saw somewhere that atsumu is the one who gets seen and osamu is the one who is liked, so they both have this underlying resentment (i dont think thats the right word. jealousy?) to each other. bc when you heard miya youd think of atsumu but once they got to know both twins, it’s osamu they like. i feel like osamu is more known as atsumu’s twin sometimes bc he’s just the one thats more out there, yk? but atsumu just being grateful for osamu made me so happy and osamu being happy for his twin and mc made me even happier even tho he was hurting inside. give him a happy ending im begging you my tiny heart hurts after you should have found me pls tell me he’s happy and moved on

also let’s all thank yuta for getting along w mc to begin w LOL he’s second best after himari 😌 bokuroo dynamic was a much needed addition and i love them more than anything, same vibes as hanamattsun like chaotic gay bros who’d tear down the earth for the ones they love 😪

i feel like i still have so much left to say but this is already super long and im sorry for that. you found me is now one of my fave fics (probs my fave atsumu fic i loved it that much) ever and im so grateful you took the time to write it. thanks for the journey and im looking forward to your fics (im gonna binge rn 😈) and future works! stay hydrated <3

BESTIE EYE- KASJAASUDFHYAS I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START BECAUSE I'M CRYING

Firstly thank you so much for taking the time to leave such a long and detailed message with such kind words, i literally did not stop smiling the entire time I was reading it oml i was so giddy reading it

I'm so glad you caught onto those little tidbits i left in the story, i tried to have meaning in every tiny details so it makes me happy that you caught onto them! And you're right! I didn't use Y/N in the story at all, or any of my stories! I kinda feel at times using anything like Y/N or (name) feels a bit clunky? It kinda takes me out of the story, so I try not to include it in my stories at all, and either use a nickname or nothing! ALSO I'M SO HAPPY YOU LOVED HIMARI AND YUTA!!

Your analysis of how different the twins are and their dynamic with each other in not only HQ but my fic is just CHEFS KISS MWAH it's so good and you really hit the nail on the head. Like you said they're both winners in different ways; Atsumu is the star boy who gets noticed for his talent and charisma but Osamu is the better liked twin in the end because of his personality and calm nature. I think the twins are just so interesting to write about that way, how they love differently and approach life dasjfhasd will definitely write more with the two of them in the future

I really screwed over Osamu in 'I should have found you', didn't I? LOL I need to do my boy some justice in future stories i write, whether they're related to You Found Me or not. But rest assured he had a happy ending regardless of whether he's in a relationship or not! He's taking life step by step and finding success in his job and with his friends! <3

I guess the thing I wanted to focus on in this fic is that everyone goes through some sort of struggle in some way. Even someone like cocky, hotheaded atsumu feels the weight of pressure and to act a certain way because its expected of him. He may not have dealth with it well at first (he was a kid tbf!) but what matters is how he grows from the hurt and learns how to do right the second time. I am a sucker for 'right people, wrong time' tropes after all hahaha everybody deals with shit, so it's important that they all found someone to lean on

I don't ship much but Bokuroo is my SHIT i just love really stupid bros that are in love and every day is a wild ride, like matsuhana too ajhsdfhsd

Seriously, thank you so much for even reading my fic, let alone sending such a sweet message. I'm beyond happy that you loved it, and to call it one of your fave fics just makes my head explode LMAO

I do hope you enjoy the other fics (trash) I write, my mind goes in a million directions and I can only hope ppl understand what i write HAHAHA

THANK YOU SO MUCH MY LOVE, I HOPE YOU HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY <33333