#derek morgan x y/n

[patrickispinky]

Derek: are you the big spoon or the little spoon?

Emily: i'm the knife

Jj: *from across the room* she's the little spoon

[astrophileous]

Also the thought of Derek holding up readers bump once she’s farther along? The Tik Tok couples who do it and the immediate relief on their partners face is so sweet 😭🖤

wait omg this is actually a rlly cute concept. I'd like to imagine that it was JJ who shared this trick with him and he couldn't wait to test it out as soon as he found out about it askkjdsk

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek looked up from the plate of chicken in front of him at the sound of your whimper. It was quiet, but it was the fifth one Derek had heard since you sat down for dinner. You were quick to school your expression after that, smiling at him as if nothing was wrong.

As the clock ticked nearer towards your due date, Derek noticed that your stamina was rapidly decreasing as well. He would hear muffled groans and tiny moans slipping past your lips several times throughout the day, but as soon as he went to ask you what's wrong, you'd put on your perfectly crafted smile and wave him off. Derek made sure to soothe your ache and fatigue in any way you allowed him--feet massages before bed were becoming a routine that he was looking forward to do every single night--but Derek kept thinking that there must be something more he could do.

"Are you finished?" Derek asked as he began stacking all of the dirty dishes together.

"I can do the dishes," you offered.

"Nice try, Bug." Derek made a swift work to grab your empty plate, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead in the process. "I got this. You go rest somewhere, 'aight?"

"That's all I seem to be doing these days," you grumbled. "Resting."

"As you should be."

Once the dishwasher was loaded and started, Derek checked to see if the message he had sent promptly before dinner had been answered. He smiled when he saw the respond that the other person had sent. Exiting the kitchen, Derek put himself in an urgent mission to find you.

"Bug? Sweetheart?"

"In here!"

He followed your voice all the way to the laundry room. "I thought I told you to rest."

"You did."

Derek raised an eyebrow at your answer.

You continued to sort through the laundry as you glanced up at his face. "Do you need something?"

"Yes, actually." Derek moved closer until your whole body was caged between him and the washer. "I wanted to try something."

"Try what?"

He kissed your shoulder. "Do you trust me?"

"Should I?"

He chuckled. "You should."

Derek's hands sneaked around you then, from your waist and all the way to the underside of your belly. He told you to take a deep breath, which you obliged, before he slowly and carefully lifted your bump.

"Oh."

You were practically melting in Derek's arms, with the tension gone in your shoulders and the stiffness dissolved from your back. He watched with a fond smile as a relieved sigh fell from your lips.

"Does that feel good?" Derek asked.

"Very."

Derek laughed at the blissful expression that had taken over your face.

"Where did you even learn about this?"

"I consulted an expert." When your curious eyes searched his, Derek simply said, "JJ."

"Hm. That makes sense."

"I'm gonna let go now, okay?"

As careful as he had been when he lifted your bump, Derek slid his hands out from underneath your belly, kissing your temple when they finally secured themselves on your hips.

"That was amazing. Thank you." You turned around in his arms before wrapping your own around his neck. "You do know that you're obligated to do this for me at least once a day from now on, right?"

Derek's responding grin couldn't be any bigger. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

[luveline]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble

Can I request shy!reader and Derek? Maybe where she's really shy about pda but she finally works up the courage to hold his hand or kiss his cheek in public and he just melts <3

tysm! ♡

"Penelope, I'm not wearing that." 

Penelope waves the custom t-shirt she's made at him threateningly. "Yes, you will, because you love me and you love Hotch and he deserves our support." 

She's created matching garb for their entire team as well as any partner willing to support Hotch. "This is his second triathlon, and he's very much going to remember last year's triathlon and his now ex-girlfriend. Plus, it's for charity!" She slaps his chest with the shirt. "Put it on." 

You smile at his reaction, the fond clench of his jaw, his rolling eyes as he peels out of his t-shirt. The smile quickly stifles, mouth dry as the Sahara in seconds. The tight pack of his abs ripple in the sunlight, dark skin practically glistening. 

"It's too hot for this," he complains. 

Penelope nudges you. "He can say that again." 

Derek squeezes into his shirt and laughs. "This better be the wrong size on accident." 

"Maybe." She leans down to grab another shirt from her tote bag, saying, "This should be the right size, sweetcheeks." 

Yours is big enough to wear over your original blouse easily. Derek glares at you without any real malice and swings an arm around your shoulders, dropping a kiss at your temple. "Looking good." 

Being with Derek has never made any sense to you. Or rather, Derek being with you has never made any sense —you'd be a fool to turn him down and he's a fool to think you're good enough. He's ridiculously attractive, a bombshell of a man, with ambition and a good heart, sweetness and heat alike practically drip from him. You're confused by him often and melted by him more, a melted puddle of a girl as he walks you to the crowd of BAU employees waiting at the finish line to cheer for Hotch.

Jack and Henry stand together, though Henry, JJ's son, is much smaller. Will crouches next to him to make sure he doesn't run anywhere he isn't supposed to, while JJ stands with Emily and Spencer, all already bedecked in their supportive t-shirts. 

There's a chorus of hellos as you join them. Everybody Derek cares about that isn't in Chicago stands in a bubble, and it terrifies you like always. You want to make a good impression. You don't want to let Derek down. 

Not that he cares about any of that. He knew you were shy to aching when you met and he has no intentions of trying to change you. "Sorry we're late," he says. "My fault."

Actually, it's your fault. You got the time wrong. But Derek doesn't embarrass you by telling them —your affection for him swells. 

He keeps a hand behind your back for a while. You sway under the huge sun beating down and on tired feet for a while, Hotch your saviour as he appears across the finish line. Will takes Jack to meet him, and Jack, the poor thing, gets a super sweaty hug.

Hotch isn't first to finish, but he runs a good time. 

"Better than last year's!" Emily cheers. 

Penelope wolf whistles. You clap your hands with Spencer, pleased if feeling a little out of place. 

"Maybe I'll sign up for next year's triathlon," Derek says, grinning. 

You know he's kidding, but Derek could do anything he set his mind to. You go on tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "I'd cheer you on," you say earnestly, stepping back, wiping the tiny balmy kiss print you've left behind. 

Derek looks at you plainly startled. Your heart skips a beat, worried you've overstepped. 

"Can I get another one of those, or are they in limited supply?" he asks, warm and quiet, not an inch of bravado to be seen. 

You turn back the unfolding scene of victory in front of you, "Maybe later." 

Derek is noticeably sweet on you for hours, and declares at dinner that he'll be joining Hotch in next year's triathlon. You reach for his hand under the table and nod along. You'd love to see him at the finish line. 

[ddejavvu]

I haven’t seen anyone write ghost!reader helping the BAU solve her own case…like knocking things over to get their attention or play eerie songs to give hints😭

THIS IS SUCH A COOL IDEA??

--

For FBI specialists, these guys suck. They've spent 20 minutes looking through your bedroom, and not once have they gone through the shoes in your closet, where one is tucked carefully away with a blood-stained heel. You'd driven it into your killer's eye just before he'd stuck his own weapon into your stomach, and you'd watched him put it neatly away in its place as you bled out.

"Y'know, I think we are looking at victims of opportunity," A tall, lanky one muses, hair in messy waves down to his shoulders as his slender hands hold your journal that you're not too happy he's reading. "There's nothing in here that indicates any sort of high-risk lifestyle, or anything that connects Y/N to the other victims. I think she just had her window open, and that was enough."

"I think you're right, Reid. This doesn't exactly look 'high-risk' to me." Another speaks, the dark tone of his skin a stark contrast against the white button-up he's holding out from your closet.

"But there's still something missing," Reid hums, peering confusedly around the room, "I mean, the other victims lived miles away. So if these really are opportunity kills, this guy's driving across the country and perusing neighborhoods to kill? That's not very probable."

"No. There's something else," The bigger one agrees, kneeling by the stain of your blood against the carpet. You watch on from the corner of the room, waiting for him to tuck his fingers just beneath the edge of the bed and withdraw the token that had fallen there when your killer had flailed about in the loss of his eye.

He doesn't.

You groan with frustration, but neither of them hear it. You're tired of waiting, tired of watching, tired of hoping they crack the case. You lunge for the bed, sending a breeze against the bottom of the comforter and rippling it so that the coin is visible for a split second.

The bulky agent's eyes widen slightly at the unexplainable draft, his thick brows dipping in concern. But he's seen the shiny coin, and he lets out a tsk as he examines it.

"Morgan? What's wrong?" Reid glances over at him, "Is that-?"

"A train token," Morgan drawls, "'Guess we know how this guy's getting around."

"Where did you find that?"

"It was under the bed." Morgan recalls, "It was... weird. There was this little breeze, like- like someone moved the comforter. That's the only reason I saw it. Would've missed it otherwise."

Reid's eyebrows arch curiously, then a smirk slides over his lips, "Maybe it was a ghost."

"There's no such thing as ghosts, pretty boy." Morgan scoffs, standing up straight with the token in hand, "Let's go, we've gotta deliver the profile- ah!"

Before they can walk out the door, you grab the shoe from your closet, flinging it at Morgan's ankle in retaliation for his rather rude comment. He jumps nearly a foot in the air, looking down at your bloody heel in terror.

"That just- that just hit me! It flew out of the closet, and- no, man, I'm not doing this. Fuck- fuck this, I'm going back to the car."

"It's bloody," Reid crouches to examine the shoe, warily glancing at the closet it had flown from, "Go ahead, Morgan, I'll just be a second."

"That is why white people die in horror movies," Morgan spits, already beelining for the front door, "I don't fuck with ghosts!"

When he's gone, Reid is silent. He snaps pictures of the heel, only touching the mess after it's been sufficiently recorded. There's some obscene mush that rubs off onto his finger and he grimaces, inspecting the remains.

"It's an eye," He murmurs to himself, but you hear it from where you're crouched right beside him. He has a pretty face, Morgan wasn't lying. He peers curiously once more at the closet, and you slide yourself into his line of vision as if he can see you. It's refreshing to have someone look at you again, even if they don't know they are.

Reid stands, taking your heel with him. He digs a plastic bag out of his pocket and slides the heel inside, gloves stained the same unsettling color. He starts for the door, finished with his investigation, but he lingers just before he can exit your bedroom. You're standing just behind him, intent on walking the man out and watching him drive away.

He turns back, gaze aimed towards the closet that's no longer occupied by your supernatural throwing arm.

"Thank you," He speaks, "I believe you're real. And I hope this- uh, finishes your business here. I hope you get to rest soon."

[forhappysake]

[blue-babygirl]

Energy Drink

Pairing: Derek Morgan x college student! Reader

Type: Fluff/Sweet (I think?)

Description: You know you are not supposed to be drinking energy drinks. Derek restricts them for a reason. But it's not like he is around to find out at the moment.

Warnings: stern but loving Derek, somewhat dominant Derek and that's pretty much it. Let me know if I need to add anything.

You stare at the energy drinks in the vending machine near your lecture hall, contemplating whether to actually get one or not. You can practically feel the single-eyebrow-raised stare that Derek would give you if he were there.

Actually, if he were here, you wouldn't even be standing here contemplating this decision. After all, there is a reason Derek doesn't approve of you drinking energy drinks.

But as you hear your friends entering the hallway, you make up your mind and make quick work of getting your previously favorite flavor from the drinks available, checking to see how much time you have before the professor locks the door as your friends get to you and you make your way to into the hall, taking your seats in the middle.

Before you know it, you have emptied the can, recycled it, got done with work, hyper-fixated on cleaning the kitchen, cleaned the kitchen, and are distractedly working on 3 essays at the same time when Derek gets home. You run over to him before practically throwing yourself in his arms, eternally thankful for how strong he is as you realize that you could have both fallen and gotten hurt.

“Someone’s happy?” Derek looks at you questioningly as you cling to him, making you nod into your hiding spot, his neck.

You can feel him chuckle as he holds you while putting away his things near the entrance. The keys into the bowl, his wallet near the bowl, his shoes near the rack, and his briefcase under the table. You can tell everything he is doing as he does it without even looking up from your hiding spot. It’s probably the energy drink.

“How was your day gorgeous? And why are you up so late? Don’t you have work in the morning?” He questions as he walks into the living room and sees the mess of snacks at the kitchen counter surrounding your laptop in stark contrast to the surprisingly squeaky clean kitchen.

But instead of getting answers like he expected, he looks down to see you staring at him with wide eyes before asking what time it was. That’s when it clicks to him.

He carries you around as he closes your laptop against your protests before carrying your pouty butt to your bedroom.

“I was still working on that essay. You can’t just close my laptop like that!”

Your complaints fall on deaf ears as he finally puts you down on the counter of your ensuite bathroom.

“Those essays, not that essay. And I saved them before closing your laptop sweet cheeks. Now, care to tell me about that energy drink you had?” Derek folds his arms as he gives you the look. You know, the look. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, you are bad at lying when it comes to him. Or honestly, the BAU in general. But in this case, that doesn’t even matter because you don’t think before you answer.

“How did you know?” You look at him with big eyes and a pout as you realize that you just told him that you had one.

“Because, sweetheart,” Derek smiles despite knowing he should be scolding you before nuzzling your nose with his, “I know you.”

You pout but give him a quick peck before he pulls away. “I was tired before a 4-hour lecture with the bitc- witchy professor.” You quickly correct yourself, not wanting to remember the task you had given him as he tried to stop his smirk at your almost mistake.

“You have to help me stop swearing! Please, Derek!!” You pleaded, but he still seemed unsure. “How exactly will I be helping you?” He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow suggestively, making you blush but nod. This took him a little by surprise. “You have to use your words Y/N, you know I won’t agree to anything unless you clarify yourself and what you want.” You blush as you confirmed verbally to what you had both talked about with just your eyes not even minutes ago.

“Anyways, I was exhausted so I thought, why not.” You shrug.

“You know why not.” Derek gives you that look. “You get way too hyper for way too long sweeetie. You usually can’t even keep track of time, like today. I got home at around 3:25 a.m. Y/N. You have to wake up at 7 for work and now you are gonna have a migraine. Did you even eat dinner? Or lunch? Anything other than those snacks?”

You are honestly surprised about how late it is, you didn’t even feel the time passing. You try to remember if you ate anything for lunch or dinner but you don’t even remember getting or eating the snacks Derek mentioned. You cringe at the thought of the migraine you are going to have along with the fact that you definitely disappointed Derek and that you are not even sleepy.

Derek sighs after staring at you thinking for a few minutes, making you realize he is still there. At this point, you at least have the courtesy to look ashamed.

“Here is what we are going to do now. You are going to get out of these clothes and get in the shower while I get a few things done. Okay baby?” You nod quickly before making grabby hands at him. He obliges and comes closer for you to give him a hug. He gives you one last kiss on your forehead before leaving you in the bathroom.

“Wet your hair too!” You hear Derek yell from somewhere in the house as you make your way into the shower after undressing and getting it set up.

Not long after you get your hair wet thoroughly, Derek comes into the bathroom and joins you in the shower. After giving you a head massage as he washed your hair and helped you clean up with you returning the favor, you step out of the shower together. You let him cover you in his towel while he uses yours.

After getting changed into some pajamas and having him partially dry your hair with a towel, you get in bed together, finally tired and ready to fall asleep.

“I emailed your manager that you won’t be able to get to work until noon tomorrow.” Derek mumbles tiredly as he pulls you flush to him and snuggles you close.

You turn around in his arms before pecking his lips softly and mumbling out a thank you before you snuggle yourself as close to him as you can. You feel him kiss your forehead making you smile softly.

The last thing he hears before your breathing evens out is a sleepily mumbled, “No more energy drinks.”

[thedelusionalbitchgianna]

Derek: So you're bisexual and still single?

Spencer: No I'm just bi myself

[cherryspence]

i think we need to start the babygirlification of derek morgan

[uranometrias]

criminal minds requests are open! i’m in a hotch mood, but i am open to writing for everyone! xx

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

I'LL ALWAYS FIND YOU - D.M

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, mentions of murder, addiction mention, mentions of sexual assault (no sexual assault against reader), criminal minds related language and unsubs.

Summary: Derek loved you more than anything so when you get kidnapped and he saves you, he doesn't know how to look after you. (Occurs between end of season 6)

Wordcount: 4.9k

You let out a sob. It was loud and it was broken and it came from deep within your chest.

The room was cold and the zip ties on your wrists were scratchy, digging into your wrists and cutting at the skin there whenever you would move. Every time you would try and fight, try to move your arms and find a way out, they just dig deeper.

Your shirt was ripped from where he had grabbed you but otherwise, you were left in your normal clothes. There was a wound on your head, an occasional sharp pain passing through your temple. The blood had a dried against your cheek and you were sure you looked like a mess. Bloody and tear stained.

You knew all about this unsub, had profiled him for the last week here in the blistering summer. You had profiled him as a masochist but there were barely enough bodies to be able to figure out anything.

He was stealing women from their cars, grabbing them from secluded areas and knocking them out with a harsh blow to the head. They would be there for about a week before they were killed and you had been there for just under a day now. He would also send daily photos of the women to the local police, almost taunting them.

You had been grabbing something from the car outside of the police station in the early hours of the mornings. None of you thought that he would grab someone from outside of a police station but here you were, the victim to his destabilisation. You wished you would have taken up Dereks offer for him to walk with you but you had been too stubborn.

Thinkin about Derek made your heart hurt. The two of you had been dating for around a year now and you knew he was it for you, the man that you were going to spend the rest of your life with. There was no doubt about that.

You had to keep thinking about the team. They were going to come find you, they were going to come and find you. You kept repeating it like a mantra, hoping that this sick bastard had made some mistake by grabbing you from a police station. He must have.

The sound of footsteps started to get closer and your heart pounded. If he was beginning to escalate with kidnapping a federal agent, who knew what he was going to do now.

Every bad thing that you had seen before on this job flashed before your eyes, dead girls living in streams, bloody knives, ropes. You tried to calm yourself down but you couldnt stop wondering about what could happen to you.

You let out a shaky sigh of relief as you heard the footsteps fading into the distance. You took a deep breath, blinking away the tears as you decided that you had to stop feeling sorry for yourself and instead find a way out of here.

Looking around, you noted that the room was concrete, no windows and just a single door on the other side of the room; maybe you were underground. Behind you was the metal grate that your arms were zip tied to and the floor was cold beneath your feet, a complete contrast to the blazing Louisiana summer that you had been investigating.

All your years of training were coming handy and you had to try and deduce your way out. But your heart was pounding and your head hurt from when he had hit you over the head a during your kidnapping. You were tired and hungry and not ready to die yet.

You closed your eyes, the feeling of fatigue starting to build up inside of you. You tried not to, but you let it take you away, just for a little bit.

Derek sat in the police office, head in his hands as he tried to figure it out. He needed to find you before something happened. You were the only person he had ever loved before, the only woman he would ever love.

Spencer looked at his friend sitting there at the table by himself, eyes trained on the board of the other dead women. He could tell that Derek was picturing you up there, body cut and beaten as it was dumped in an alleyway.

His stomach sank as he walked over, sitting down next to his friend.

“You need to sleep,” it had been 30 hours now and he hadnt slept since you went missing. Spencer knew he would be no use to you or the team if he was sleep deprived.

Derek turned to him, eyes red from crying earlier (even though he would never admit it to the team). There was worry written all over his face, knowing there was a chance he would never see her again.

He shook his head, “I cant sleep,”

“You have to,” Spencer said with a sigh.

Derek stood up, slamming his hand on the table with anger, “I cant,” he stated, bitterness rolling off of his tongue, “My girl is out there. He’s doing God knows what to her and I have to sit here and-” he let out a shaky breath, “-and she could be dead,”

Spencer stood up, “We profiled him. He wont kill her yet,”

“Yet,”

There was a silence in the room as Derek walked over to the board. The picture of you that he kept in his pocket in every mission was pinned up there on the board, your bright smile contrasting the photos of the other missing and dead women.

He took a deep breath, feeling guilty that he had taken his anger out on Spencer. He turned to him, running his hand over his face, “Yet,” he repeated, his voice softer this time.

“We will find her,” Spencer promised as he walked over, placing his hand on his friends shoulder.

He had seen how perfect the two of you were. You were friends for years and then one day, you announced to everyone that you were dating but they werent shocked. Your affection towards one another was obvious and everyone was waiting for the two of you to end up together.

He nodded, biting on his lip as he thought. His brows were furrowed, eyes glued to the picture of you on the board. He wasnt going to let anything happen to you, not now, not ever.

You were both going to make it out of this alive. He was ging to marry you, he was going to spend the rest of his life with you, have children with you if you wanted to do that, live in one of those houses in the suburbs. He would do anything that would make you happy.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled Derek out of his thoughts and he hadnt even noticed that a tear had slipped past his waterline until he felt it running down his cheek. He brushed it away, shaking his head as he composed himself.

He turned around, looking to see Hotch and the other standing at the entrance, “Everyone sit down please,”

They all complied, Derek unable to sit still as he waited to see what evidence Hotch had. Maybe they had a lead, maybe they had something that could help find you.

He pulled something out of his pocket and Dereks heart sank down in hs chest as he realised it was a picture. He had forgotten that this unsub would take photos of the women every day and drop them off at the local police stations.

Hotch couldnt even look at Derek as he slipped the picture onto the circular table that they were all sitting around.

The man instantly snatched the photo away before anyone else could look. None of them had ever heard the choked sob that Derek let out before as hee saw the picture of you.

You were standing there, tied up to some metal grate behind you. He couldn’t see your wrist but he assumed from the drops of blood on the floor that they were bleeding. He felt sick as he looked at the rip in your jacket, a large bruise starting to blossom on your shoulder.

It took him too long to reach your face. He brushed a thumb across the picture, brushing across your face. You had tear stains marking your cheeks and dried blood that came from a wound on your forehead. You looked like a mess and he felt physically ill at the sight - he couldn’t believe that someone was actually doing this to you, hurting you like this.

He slid the picture back down, lip quivering slightly as he did so. Emily and JJ shared a look, they had never seen the man so distraught. They had seen him when he confronted his assaulter and a few months ago had seen him lie to his aunt about his missing cousin. He had never seemed so upset before, so broken inside.

They all looked at it, taking turns to pass it around. The team were all friends and you were an integral part of it, none of them enjoyed seeing you like that.

Even in the pictures, they could still see the fierce look in your face. You werent going to go down without a fight and that was the best thing to think of.

Derek couldnt bring himself to look back down at the photo. He didnt want to look at you like that, he didnt want to imagine what the man had done to you. There was a sickening feeling in his gut as he thought about it and he couldnt bare to anymore.

But as the tears and the self-pity subsided, the anger started to build up. He didnt feel the burning sting in the back of his eyes anymore and instead, there was a building anger within his stomach.

He shook his head, shaking his head. They all saw his face change expression, the downturned and teary look on his face turning to one of anger, brows furrowed and fist clenched as it rested on the table.

“Is this what you called us in for? To show me a picture of my girl being tortured?” The whole team could hear the anger in his voice as he spat the words out.

Hotch understood what it was like to lose someone. He had lost the woman that he had loved and he would never want that to happen to anyone else. He didnt want to see that happen to anyone, especially not to someone he respected as much as Derek Morgan.

Derek's anger didn’t bother him and Hotch just continued to explain it, “No, Garcia might have a lead,” he explained.

Spencer perked up at the suggestion, “What?” He asked, sounding almost as desperate as the others.

You were friends with all of them, having gone on constant missions with them. They had never imagined anything bad to happen to you.

Hotch nodded, “She traced the journey of the man who dropped this off. He had met with some other man earlier today and this is him. Winston Binford, a thirty year old-“ he started to explain but Derek shook his head, standing up and slamming his hand onto the table.

“I don’t care, lets go find this sick son of a bitch,” he spat out.

There was this anger inside of him that he had not felt in a very long time. There was a desperation in his words and they could all see how much you meant to him and how much he needed to get you back.

He had lost so many people in his life, so many people that he had cared about. He would do anything to save his father back when he was a kid and now, he was going to do anything to save you. He would kill anyone that he needed to, he would do anything

Hotch understood his anger, he would be angry too if it was someone he loved and so he didnt reprimand him, “Calm down,” Derek took a deep breath, nodding his head, “We cant go rushing into this. We need to get a warrant and then we will go,”

“What if he kills her?” He asked, voice cracking.

Rossi stood up, looking at his friend, “He wont kill her,” he laid a hand on his shoulder as he promised him that, promised that nothing would harm her.

You were hungry and you were thirsty and you were tired. Everything hurt and ached and you didnt know how much longer you were going to be able to survive in the room, how much longer you would last.

It felt like there was this ticking time bomb in the room and you just had to hope that either your friends would come and save you or that he would kill you fast enough that it wouldn’t hurt too bad.

For your entire life, you had never had this fear of dying. You didnt want to leave your friends and family but it didnt scare you. However, right now, as you were staring death in the face, just waiting for the moment that the man came and cut the string, you were scared. You didnt want to leave Derek, not now that you two had moved in together and were in love. You didnt want to leave your family or the team who had become a second family to you.

The sound of footsteps started to get closer and in your sleep deprived state, you didnt hear that it sounded like there was more than one person.

Your eyes were trained on the doors, waiting for the moment that your captor decided to finally kill you and you were shocked to see the man who opened the door.

It was Derek Morgan, the love of your life, standing at the door, one hand still on the handle. He seemed in shock that he had finally found you.

Behind him were Emily and Rossi and the two of them looked at one another after taking in your appearance. They seemed horrified at the treatment that you had endured and you could hear Hotchs voice yelling out as he searched for the man that had done this for you.

The first thing Derek did was rush over to you. He instantly dropped to his knees in front of you, watching as you started to cry at the sight of him, chest heaving up and down in sobs. He wanted to kiss you all over, kiss away all the injuries that this man had caused but he had time to do that. Right now he needed to get you out of here.

“Let me get these ties off of you baby, okay,” his hands reached around her body, a knife that you hadnt even noticed before in his hands as he cut the zip ties away, “You’re okay,” his voice was comforting, the familiar lull of it bringing you back to reality.

As soon as they were off, you fell into his arms. He barely had any time to worry about your bloody wrists from where the zip ties had been cutting into your skin and instead focused on the fact that you were here.

He had never seen you cry a lot but today, you just collapsed into his arms, arms wrapped around his neck, hand grasping onto the back of his shirt. You sobbed into his chest, trying to grab at anything to make sure that he was real. You wanted to make sure that he wasnt just a figment of your imagination.

Dereks lip quivered, tears burning in the back of your eyes as he tried to comfort you instead of falling apart himself. One hand reached up and he brushed a hand over the top of your head, trying to calm you down.

“You’re safe baby, you’re safe,” he promised. He repeated the words over and over again, making sure that you understood that nobody was going to hurt you ever again.

As he held you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his, he let a single tear slip out. He had realised that if you would have died then he wouldn’t know how to go on with his life. He loved you more than anything else in the world and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, letting you calm down and just relish in the fact that you had one another, that you were finally safe.

Derek pulled back, looking at you. He brushed the dried blood from your cheek and then let his hand rest there. For a second, he just allowed himself to understand that you were here in his arms and that you were safe.

“Come on, let’s go get you to a medic doll, you’ll be okay,” he brushed his finger over your cheekbone and you nodded, breaths still shaky.

When he realised how cold you were, presumably from the environment that you had been held captive in, he pulled off the jacket that he had been wearing and draped it across your shoulders. You pulled it close, leaning your head down and taking a deep breath of your boyfriends scent.

It was comforting, something that reminded you of the apartment that the two of you had just moved into together, that reminded you of everything that you had waiting for you at home.

For the first time, you opened your mouth, “I wanna go home,” your voice was croaky and hoarse, probably because of the lack of food and water you’d had.

He nodded, his heart hurting for you as he realised the conditions that you had been in and the effects that it had in you, “Ill take you home baby, we just have to get you checked up,” he explained.

You nodded in response and he helped you up, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, he wasnt going to let go of you now, not ever. His touch comforted you, allowing you to stay grounded and not worry about your captor.

You walked out of the building, eyes squinting at the morning light. You couldn’t believe that you had been there for a day and a half now but it was behind you now.

The two of you stopped at the front of the ambulance and he turned so that he was looking at you. He placed two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up so that he was looking at you. When your eyes met, he could see the fear in your eyes and he wanted to get rid of all of that and make it all go away.

“Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?” His voice cracked as he asked the hardest questions, “You can tell me baby,”

You shook your head and he nodded, believing you. He sat you down on the edge of the ambulance before calling a medic over to come look at you. He held you hand throughout the whole thing, making sure that you felt safe and looked after.

A few hours later, Hotch had the man in custody and he was never going to see the light of day again. You thought that would help you rest as you sat on the plane, trying to close your eyes and fall asleep but it didnt help. Instead, every time you closed your eyes, you were back there, screaming for anyone to help you. In your entire life, you had never felt so weak, so useless.

Everyone was asleep, the low hum of the plane engine being the only noise in the room - well apart from Rossi’s sporadic snoring. You could mute the noise out, the click of Spencer's pen as he tried to jot down some notes from today to give to Hotch to make his job easier and you didn't even hear the steady beating of Derek's feet as he walked back from the bathroom.

You had zoned compiler out and they understood that. All of them had their own share of near death experiences, of moments that someone could have pulled the trigger at them.

None of them had been held captive before, just you and Spencer. He had gone through worse, being killed and resuscitated which lead to an addiction that he barely managed to escape from.

You wondered if you would struggle as much as Spencer did after his kidnapping. There was a guilt in your chest as you compared them. He actually died and you were just held hostage, nothing really bad happened to you. So why did you feel so awful? So ashamed?

Derek sat in the seat across from you and you barely registered him being there. You were off in your own world, feeling ashamed as you sank into the feeling of self-pity at what had happened.

You flinched at the light touch on your knee and Derek pulled his hand back, an almos guilty look on his face. He didnt know how to care for you now, how to make sure you are okay when nothing else is.

There was a guilt bearing down on your chest as you looked at the hurt flash across his face. You didnt want to pull away but after what had happened earlier, you didnt know how to articulate what you meant.

It was silent after that, neither of you knowing what to say to make the other feel better.

When the plane landed, everyone started to grab their stuff, walking off the plane. You just stood there, staring at your bag, thinking about going home as a slightly different person.

JJ looked at Derek, giving him a look that asked if you were okay. He shook his head, walking over to her, “Give us a minute?” She nodded, giving him a reassuring smile before she walked out of the plane to go tell the rest of the team that they would have to wait.

He took a deep breath as he walked over to you, tapping you gently on the shoulder,r trying not to scare you too much. He didnt fail to notice the way that you jumped slightly at the feeling of his touch but still turned around, looking up at him.

“You wanna talk doll?” He asked, voice soft.

You took a shaky breath, looking away from him for a second. He knew your tells, and that was one of them - you were nervous.

He took your hand and you looked up at him. He brushed his thumb over your knuckles, “Are you okay?” He knew it was a stupid question but it needed to be asked. He knew that you weren’t okay but he needed to know the extent to your pain and how he could help you.

Nobody had asked you the question yet, clearly not wanting to see your reaction - and knowing that it was normally a stupid question to ask someone who had gone through trauma. Your lip quivered, eyes meeting his and when they did, he saw the tears that were building up in your waterline.

“No,” you muttered, one of the only things that you had said to him since you got back.

Derek took that as a good sign and he nodded, taking a step closer and this time, you didnt back away in fear, you let him get closer. He nodded, “You wanna talk about it?” He repeated his question from earlier.

You pursed your lips together, clearly thinking the question over. You shook your head, “Not yet,” he nodded in response, understanding why you wouldnt want to. Your next question shocked him though, “Just hold me?”

There was a beat of silence as Derek thought. It was strange that you had been avoiding his touch and now you were asking for it but he didnt care, just knowing that if this was what was best for you than he would do it. He would do anything that you asked.

He held his arms out, letting you take the first step. You quickly wrapped your arms around him, hands tightening against the back of shirt as you grounded yourself. You buried your head in his chest, taking a deep breath as you inhaled the familiar scent of your boyfriend.

You had missed him more than anything when you were gone. You didnt know how you would live without him and after the events of the last week, he felt the exact same.

He was shocked for a second at the tightness of your hug and the way you held onto him but he just smiled, knowing that this was more like the old you. He instantly wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on top of yours,

One hand was splayed on your back, pressing you tightly against him and the other was on the back of your head, holding you close. He could stay here forever, hold you until you need to knew that he would never let go again.

It was muffled against his shirt but he could make out your words, “I love you,” you hadnt said those words since you were kidnapped, too scared that something else bad would happen.

He smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “God, I love you so much,” he muttered into the top of your head.

You pulled away slightly, moving your hands so that they rested on his chest. You leaned against him as you looked up into his eyes. Your eyes flickered down to his lips and you leant up, pressing your lips against his.

He closed his eyes instantly, melting into your touch. He hadnt been able to kiss you since the events and as his hand came up to cradle your face, holding you like a porcelain doll that might break, he knew that this is where he belonged - in your arms.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you again,” he pulled back, whispering the words against your lips.

Your eyes fluttered open and you nodded, “Okay,” you whispered. You believed him, you knew he would look after you forever, “Can we go home?”

He nodded, taking your hand in his as he pulled back from the hug, still standing close enough to you, “Let’s go,”

What you didnt know was that the next week before the two of you were meant to go back into work, he had driven you to Rossis house. You stood outside of the door in the nice dress that Derek had bought for you a while back and looked at him confused, “What are we doing here?” You questioned.

In the few days that you had been back, he had seen you coming back to your old self. He had seen more smiles on your face and even though you both had basically spent the week in your shared house, lying in bed and just relishing in one another’s company or sitting in the garden admiring the world, you seemed happier already.

The team wanted to do something good for you and make you feel better after everything that had happened. He didnt want you to be scared to come back to work so he thought this would be nice for you.

“Just seeing our friends,” he promised, ringing the doorbell.

Penelope opened the door and smiled at you as you stood there. She instantly pulled you into a hug and you reciprocated it, feeling as she hugged you tightly.

She let go of you, her hand still on your shoulder, “Come in, come in,” she ushered you in and you looked at Derek, a wide smile on his face.

His hand rested on the small of your back as you walked into the house, seeing all of your friends and team members standing at the table, all looking at you and Derek.

You looked at him and he smiled at you, “You didn't have to do this guys,” you said.

“Come here kid,” Rossi said and you walked over. He gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders, knowing that you might not want to be touched after what had happened, “You deserve something good to happen okay,”

You nodded, looking out at all of your friends. Your eyes watered slightly as you realised that they had done this all for you, not only had they saved you from that monster but they had also made sure that you were okay afterwards.

“You guys are the best,” you said, looking out at them.

They all smiled, glad to see you okay. There was a silence in the room and you just took a moment to enjoy the fact that you were safe and you were with your friends - it was one of the things that you kept having to remind yourself of.

You knew that the feelings of worry may never fully go away, that you would never forget the fact that you were held captive for 40 hours to a man that would watch and murder women. But maybe, if you just enjoyed the company of your friends and relished in the moment then you could push it to the back of your mind.

There would be one day that you wouldn’t worry about walking to your car alone, that you wouldnt wake up in the middle of the night worried that you were back there and thi was all a dream. You just had to work up to it and with your friends, you knew that it would happen.

Rossi smiled, “Now come on, Ive made your favourite. Spaghetti and meatballs,” he explained as he ushered the group over to the table.

You laughed, realising how much effort your friends had put into making you feel better.

“They better be vegetarian,” Penelope said and Rossi scrunched his nose up in disgust.

He sat her down, “I have a separate batch for you,” he reassured.

He plated everyone up with the food, pouring wine for everyone. You looked out at the table, looking at your friends as they sat there, just enjoying each other’s company.

“This is better than fighting serial killers,” Emily joked.

You laughed and it was one of the first times that they had seen it since you had been kidnapped. Emily smiled, a proud look on her face as she realised she had made you laugh.

Derek smiled too, happy that you were coming back to your old self. He grabbed your hand, pulling it up to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles, never taking his eyes away from yours.

You took a deep breath as you realsied that this was where you belonged, amongst your found family. They were always going to save you if something bad happened and you knew that now.

You reached for your glass, with the hand that wasn’t holding Dereks, and held it up, “Cheers,” you said.

They all looked at you, a smile on their faces as they all clinked their glasses between them

[wildflowerluver]

beautiful sound

derek morgan x fem!reader

derek doubts your ability on the team. his words hurt more than normal.

cw: case mentions, slight enemies to lovers, derek is kinda an asshole, quiet!reader, reader knows sign language, first kiss, she/her pronouns, bau reader, objectification of women, hotch defender

wc: 2.6k

༺♡༻

you’re quiet, you always have been. 

growing up, you sat on your hands, often not making a sound. 

it became routine, a habit. speaking became a bother. 

you learned to sign from an early age. although most didn’t know the language, it was comforting to have a second form of communication. 

when drafted into the bau, your quietness was never a problem; marked on your file actually. it proved to be an asset at times. you see people differently and when a case involves someone who struggles communicating, your skill set helps out.  

the team is sent for a case in san jose. 

you hate referring to it as standard but that's what it was, four women murdered with the same m.o.

once boarding the plane, you slide into a window seat in the group of four. derek clambers in after you. when hotch assigns you and spencer to victimology and the geographical profile, he bumps your arm. 

“was hoping i would get victimology with you for once instead of pretty boy.”

you blush. the comment is flirty enough to speed up your heart rate.

as much as you want to work with derek, you like working with spencer. the two of you work well together and he knows how to sign. makes it a lot easier than writing information down to convey to the others. 

though the case is standard, it takes three days to get a lead.

no one takes a break. between another body being found in that time and a restless community, there isn’t time. victimology is tough too. the women are all different, no jobs, friends, or hobbies to connect them.

to combat the long hours, derek brings you and spencer coffee, his warm and yours iced. spencer grumbles about having to add cream and sugar to it but yours is perfect, your exact order. it’s a small gesture but it sends your heart fluttering. but, you know not to overthink it. if anyone asked, you could recite the team's coffee orders off the top of your head; except for hotch who, in secret, prefers matcha.

you choose to stay at the precinct when garcia gives off the name and address of the suspect; arthur miller. raids aren't your strong suit. each member of the team looks at you as they leave to which you nod. a silent be safe.

miller fights the entire way to the interrogation room. derek’s grip on his arms are strong but even he struggles a bit with the thrashing. you don’t blame miller. as of right now, he’s innocent. if you were brought in, you would be kicking too.

once the team regroups, the objective is clear; get a confession or frankly, anything that’ll help the case.

“y/n, get ready. you’re interviewing.”

hotch’s orders are stern. 

derek scoffed. “hotch, come on man. we have a missing woman and he is the only suspect we have. you want to send her? she never talks.”

your head drops. it’s not an unusual reaction but his words sting; you’re used to side comments from police officers or families from cases, not a close friend. 

“morgan,” hotch warns.

“no no. we have five dead women and who knows if there are any others. and you want to send in the girl who can barely even operate verbally on this team. are you not seeing how she could screw this up?”

it’s silent.

your heart splits out of pure betrayal and dejection. you weren’t exactly open with the team about why you’re so quiet, but you didn’t think anyone on the team thought of you this way, let alone derek.

hotch turns to you with a nod. permission to proceed. you stand up with your head bowed.

you like derek, more than you probably should. it's childish, delusional, to think he would ever like you back. but his words don’t just sting, they burn. barely even operate, screw this up. you bite your lip in an attempt to try to not to let it show how this is impacting you.

derek shakes his head and turns around, mumbling something about it being the wrong decision. you have no choice but to ignore it, grabbing your cosmetics bag and heading into the precinct bathroom to get ready. 

eyes fall to you as you stepped out of the bathroom. this is the biggest interview of your career yet, and you needed to dress the part. 

you kept your dress pants on, though you shed your top layer besides a tank top, pulling it down just enough to be considered scandalous. with makeup and hair dolled up, you grabbed the file from hotch and stopped.

“are you ready for this?” his questioned stems from protectiveness. 

you nod. “i am.”

with the case file in hand, you head towards the interrogation room. you look nervous, like you don’t know if there's a hungry lion or bouquet of flowers on the other side.

but the second the door clicked shut, your demeanor changed. 

“well hello pretty lady,” arthur greets almost immediately. 

to the teams surprise, you giggle. “pretty?”

“very.”

a smile remains on your face as you sit down, case file placed on the table. 

“now i have to ask, what’s a pretty lady like you doing with the fbi?” he muses. 

you shrug, hand moving up to twirl a strand of hair. “i dunno,” you start. your tone is sweet, almost sickeningly. “my daddy wanted me to make something of myself. thought crime might be fun. i was actually excited to be asked to talk to you.”

this catches arthur’s attention. 

“you interested in murder, little lady?”

you nod, pulling in your bottom lip as you lean forward. his eyes fall to your chest. it’s gross and subjective but expected. 

“i asked my boss to let me talk to you,” you reveal. “i couldn’t help it. they all left for the day so i’m working off the clock for this.”

“off the clock?” arthur clicked his tongue twice. “eager girl.”

“yup,” you beam, popping the last letter. “i asked if i could film it but they said no. have to pay to record after hours i think.”

“i guess i’ll just have to make this moment last.”

you met his eyes, though not for too long to keep up your act. 

“tell me about this?” you beg after opening the file, a pout passing your lips. “it’s so cool.” 

arthur grins and at that moment, you know you have him right where you need him. 

“well,” he starts, using two fingers to slide one of the pictures out. “that was lacy walker. ooh ooh ooh, she was sweet. screamed too. all the best ones scream.”

“these are all of your kills?” you hope your astonishment sounds genuine.

arthur grins. “only the public ones.”

only the public ones. 

there’s more. 

there’s more killings no one even knows about.

your head is spinning. you don’t even want to think about the reaction of the others behind the one-way glass. while you wanted to coerce more information out of him about it, you knew you would be pushing your luck.

instead, you roll your eyes and scoff. facade aside, you can’t help it. 

“you know i thought criminals like you were smart.”

arthur freezes. “what?”

“i mean come on. are you really dumb enough to think that all of this isn’t being recorded?” the question hangs in the air. “because you just confessed to a hell of a lot of murders.”

he jumps up, realizing what he’s done. at the same time, you do too, slamming your hands on your desk. you stand taller, height not restricted by handcuffs connected to the table. 

“that’s honestly just embarrassing,” you titter.

arthur yells the entire time it takes you to gather the file and walk ouit of the room, but it doesn’t impact you. you got a confession and you got it quick. someone else can deal with interrogating him on his other victims. 

you don’t stop to talk to the team, though their faces show a range of emotions: proud, impressed, and a slight bit of panic, no doubt from the information you got out of arthur. after grabbing your cosmetics bag, you head to the bathroom. all of the team, besides one, has turned away at this point. you don’t even have to guess as to who keeps their gaze on you.

hotch sends everyone to the hotel to get some rest. interrogations on arthur’s other murders would wait until the following day. 

no one was going to argue with that.

derek made his way to your hotel room that night. he mind was swirling with what he said to you earlier and especially after a not-so-nice talking to from emily, he needed to apologize. 

you heard the knock on your door after you slipped a t-shirt on post shower. it was late and you were sure most of the team was asleep. 

after checking the peephole, you hook a deep breath and opened the door. 

“y/n,” derek greets. 

it’s weird for him to be here, especially at this hour and especially after what went down earlier in the day. 

“can i come in?”

you nod, opening the door a little wider for him to step in. 

your eyes look at him quizzingly and derek swears he melts. if his guilt hadn’t reached the surface, it did now. eyes were always a weakness. when you didn’t talk, your eyes showed how you were feeling and right now, they’re filled with sadness. 

“i wanted to apologize for what i said today,” he starts. “it was out of line. i shouldn’t have questioned your ability. I'm sorry.”

short and simple. 

you stay quiet. 

as much as you want to forgive him, tell him “it’s okay,” a simple ‘i’m sorry’ doesn’t fix things.

derek continues. “you deserve to be on this team, i shouldn’t have questioned that. i’m sorry, i really am. i like you,” you swear your heart stops. “i like working with you. i just hope you understand where i was coming from.”

that last part erases all prior apologies. seconds ago you would have placed money that there was an underlying confession in there. you would have gone to bed blushing and giggling over the possibility of requited feelings. how could you have understood where he was coming from? 

your eyes narrowed, lips pressing into a thin line. 

you rack your mind for something to say. you need him to know how he hurt you, but yelling isn’t something you do, especially at someone like derek.

the silence becomes unbearable even for him.

“god for once in your life can you please say something?” derek looks to the ceiling. “i’m trying to do the right thing here.”

each word stings more than the last. 

he didn’t want to apologize for the things he said, but rather he felt like he had to. 

“goodnight derek,” you whisper. anger bubbles but you don’t - can’t - lash out. 

derek looks to you defeated. you know that’s not the response he was expecting. 

the door closing after him rings in his ears even as he falls asleep. 

____

hotch and rossi lead the interrogations the next day. 

they’re the opposite of what you gave arthur. they’re strict and stern and get the information they need by early evening. 

but it’s too late to fly home to washington. 

when he makes the announcement that you would be staying in san jose until the following morning, spencer is nodding off on your shoulder and j.j. is slumped in a chair in the corner. everyone needs sleep.

you trudge into your hotel room, following the same routine as the prior night. a shower feels wonderful on your tired body. 

ignoring derek isn’t ideal, but it’s necessary. it’s painful and hurts more every time you remember how much you like him. when spencer goes quiet, derek seems to understand, never pushing him to speak when he doesn’t want to. but for you, it’s different. why is it different?

that question racks your brain as you get dressed.

before you can crawl in bed, there’s another knock. this time you don’t even have to guess who it is.

“we need to talk,” derek pushes out. 

everything inside of you is telling you not to open the door further, not to let him in. He didn’t even greet you this time. but you do, derek walking inside, though not moving past the space after the door. 

“i know i apologized last night,” he cringes at his words. “well, attempted to apologize. i don’t have any excuses, really. the things about liking you and working with you, those we’re all true, i promise. i let my emotions get the best of me and i took it out on you. i know it doesn’t justify any of this but i wanted to apologize again.”

his apology is nice, it feels genuine but the question from earlier is eating you up and you can’t have it unanswered.

“why do you treat me differently than spencer?”

derek furrows his brow. “different?”

“every time he doesn’t talk, you don’t seem bothered. but when it’s me, it’s like my silence is the greatest inconvenience in the world to you.”

“oh.”

you suddenly feel small, like every instance you’ve picked up on never even happened.

it’s easier to drop your head, tap your fingers consistently on your palm and go quiet. always go quiet.

but derek doesn’t let you. his finger hooks under your chin to pull your face up to his.

“hey hey, don’t hide from me now.” 

“i’m sorry,” you squeak.

“no need to apologize.”

his gaze is intimidating. you feel like he’s profiling you, the rule the team put in place seemingly not existing. 

“i treat you differently because you’re you. i promise it’s not a bother, i just really really like your voice.”

your mouth parts. you don’t miss the flicker of derek’s eyes down to them. you know your expression is probably embarrassing right now, how in love you look. but you’re past embarrassment and you take your chances.

your kiss is soft and gentle, short and sweet. 

derek isn’t expecting it. he thought you would’ve been a lot more upset, not using his mistakes as a reveal of your feelings. but in no matter does he mind. if he’s being honest, he’s waited for this moment for a while. 

you pull away first, mouth opening to utter an apology but derek beats you to it, meeting your lips in a bruising kiss. 

neither of you know if this would be your only kiss and it’s clear in the way he holds you.

you don’t part the entire way derek nudges you towards the bed. you fall first, him crawling on top. you pull back first. your breaths are heavy and your eyes never leave derek’s.

it’s expected that he would say something first, though you weren’t sure what he would say. are your feelings really the same? are you even allowed to date within the team?

but derek doesn’t verbalize any of that. his thumb moves to the space between your eyebrows, rubbing just slightly back and forth to ease the crinkle you developed from your overthinking. oh. 

you know he still feels bad about his earlier words. but he kisses the tip of your nose before ducking down to your jawline, trailing kisses there. 

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” each apology is met with a kiss to your neck, almost as if he’s pressing his words into your skin. 

and to his surprise, you giggle. 

“stop apologizing.”

derek pulls back, eyes meeting yours. 

your cheeks are rosy, lips plump from kissing. one hand rests on the spot beside your head, using it to hold himself up. derek’s other hand, previously on your hip, moves to cup your cheek.

“i think that might just be the most beautiful sound i’ve ever heard.”

and with that, his lips meet yours again.

[astrophileous]

The Monday Pursuit

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: The three times Derek tries to find out your name, and the one time he finally gets it. Or, the story of four different Mondays that Derek spends on the pursuit of your name.

Warning(s): shy!reader, cursing, public confrontation (verbal and physical) with a douchebag, verbal and physical threats, talks of killing someone, name-calling, protective derek, a bit of damsel in distress situation, and that's it really. this is just tooth-rotting fluff 💞

Word Count: 4300-ish

Author's Note: I FINALLY POSTED A DEREK ONE SHOT! YAY! I was toying around with the idea of making this a series of connected one shots, each one focusing on the significance of a particular day (tuesday, wednesday, thursday, etc) in the progress of your relationship. does that sound like something you guys would be interested in? tell me what you think! plsss!!! don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Derek noticed you on a Monday.

He couldn't count how many times his eyes had swept over you absentmindedly in the past few weeks. None of them ever lasted long enough for him to linger around, but somehow, this particular Monday was different.

It was different because the moment Derek's gaze drifted towards the direction where he would usually find you, he finally noticed that you were gone.

It was ironic in a way, how he only noticed you in the wake of your absence. But somewhere in the ruckus that his favorite coffee shop would whirl into every morning, Derek had begun associating the table in the corner of that place with you.

Even then, when someone else was occupying the seat at the end of his long stare, Derek could picture the scene in his head: your laptop on the table, a cup of steaming hot coffee in your hand, and a serious but adorable crease on the center of your forehead. Those three things stood out from the rest. Perhaps if he had the same eidietic ability as Spender Reid, Derek could list more details about your habits and person. Nonetheless, somewhere in his subsconscious, Derek's memories must have deemed you important enough to keep, and that was all it took for him to wonder what about you was so goddamn special.

His fog of reverie was soon broken by an interrupting voice, "She's out of town."

Derek turned his head to see one of the barristas giving him a sly smile. "Excuse me?"

"The writer. She's out of town."

"Writer?" Derek didn't know that. "She's a writer?"

"On the side. She's in grad school," the barrista said. "She has two books out and another one pending publication. She's in New York right now for a book signing."

The word impressive promptly filled Derek's mind, and judging by the barrista's expression, it seemed that the word had translated unmistakably on his face, too.

"You know, you shouldn't give out someone's information to random people like that," Derek warned.

"I don't usually, but I thought, since you're FBI..."

The surprise in Derek's eyes couldn't be more palpable. "How'd you know?"

"Dude, you've been around a while." The barrista shrugged. "Besides, I don't think she would mind."

Derek frowned.

"She likes you," the barrista revealed once they saw the confusion settling on Derek's face.

"What?"

"She's got a bad crush on you, didn't you know?"

"Uh, no?"

"Huh." The barrista put down the cup containing Derek's order on the counter. "I thought you knew. She was so obvious. I mean, I'm not sure how she hasn't burned through the back of your skull with how hard she always stares."

Flabbergasted couldn't even begin to describe what Derek was feeling. His curious eyes flicked momentarily towards your table before he addressed the barrista again, "She's a friend of yours?"

"Hell yeah, she is." The barrista smiled. "That's why I know she's got it bad for you."

Being admired wasn't exactly something new for Derek, so he struggled to comprehend why the thought of you crushing on him had triggered a wave of heat to travel up and down his body.

"What's her name?" Derek asked, trying to sound casual and nonchalant as he picked up his cup of coffee.

The barrista grinned smugly. "I thought you told me not to give someone's information to a random person like that?"

With that said, the barrista went to attend to another customer, leaving Derek to curse over his excellent ability to dig up his own hole.

You were back in town the following week.

When Derek walked into the coffee shop the next Monday, he immediately found you huddled up in your usual seat. For one split second, Derek saw you looking up from your laptop, your eyes locking with his from across the room. But before he could offer a smile, you averted your gaze as if you couldn't wait to get away from him.

That thought didn't conjure well in Derek's mind.

Derek proceeded to give his usual order and waited by the counter. However, when he saw a plate of blueberry muffin being placed next to his cup to go, Derek glimpsed up in confusion at the awaiting smirk on your friend's--the barrista's--face.

"I didn't order this."

"No, you didn't. But do you know whose favorite dessert it is?"

Derek casted a glance towards your direction.

"Exactly." The barrista grinned wider. "Now, go. It's on the house."

The loud drumming inside Derek's chest should have been laughable.

He was never like this. Derek was always self-assured, especially when it came to flirting and courting, so there really was no reason for him to be feeling like this. But something about you had spiked the rhytmic beating in his chest, and Derek didn't like being out of his element when there was a pretty girl at stake.

Thus, with an ease born out of years of practice, Derek worked to turn on his good ol' charm. The same one that dripped from his footsteps as he sauntered over your table with his coffee in one hand and one special plate of blueberry muffin in the other.

Deer caught in headlights; that was exactly the perfect description to visualize how you looked when Derek finally placed the muffin on the table. The man smirked triumphantly at the knowledge that he affected you just as much as you affected him.

"Hey," Derek greeted almost complacently. "I heard this is your favorite."

"What? I don't.... how did you..."

You stopped speaking altogether, sending a grimace to the direction of the counter--where your friend was working--when you deduced what could probably have transpired

"I missed you last week," Derek added.

If you were abashed before, then you must have been mortified when those words slipped out of Derek's lips. You looked up at him with a gaping mouth, and Derek would have laughed at how precious you looked if he didn't have compassion for your poor nerves.

"I was out of town," you eventually managed to say.

"I heard. A writer, right? You had a book signing." Derek smiled. "That's impressive. Anything of yours I might know?"

Your face contorted after hearing his question. "I doubt it. I'm not big at all."

"I don't know. Book signing in New York? Sounds pretty big to me."

"Not as much as you would expect, to be honest."

Derek didn't know why, but he despised the sound of you downplaying your own accomplishments as if they weren't worthy of being praised. He swore he would assist in changing that tendency if given the chance.

"My name is Derek. Derek Morgan."

"I know."

Derek raised a curious eyebrow.

You cowered shyly when you realized what you had admitted. "I heard you mention it a while ago, when you were ordering."

"And you remember?"

Your bashful expression nearly compelled Derek to cheer out loud.

"Do you need something?" you finally asked, not at all mean or bitter, more timid than anything else.

"Yes. I was wondering if I could ask for your name."

"My name?

Derek nodded. "Well, you see, I wanted to ask for your number, but I figured since I still don't have your name yet, then maybe I should get around to it first."

You bit your bottom lip, seemingly in deep thought as you assessed Derek with soft eyes.

"My name is--"

Just as the answer was dangling on the tip of your tongue, Derek's phone suddenly started to ring. He internally cursed his life for its partiality to bad timings, holding up an apologetic finger as he accepted the call without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Hey, beefcake, where are you?" Penelope Garcia asked from the other end of the line. "Hotch just told everyone to be up and running in 30."

"What? I thought the briefing starts in 30."

"He's debriefing on the plane. Another body just turned up."

"Shit. Shit. Okay, fine, I'll be there."

Derek ended the call in the next second, panic clouding his mind to the point that he failed to realize he didn't bid his usual farewell to his favorite tech analyst. In front of him, you were staring with a pair of expectant eyes that made Derek wish he could stop time to spend it by your side. Alas, such power only existed in fantasy, and Derek--frankly--didn't have enough time at hand to pay grievance over that fact.

"I'm sorry."

Your face fell at Derek's apology, even if slightly.

"God, this sucks. I wish I could stay. I haven't even--"

"Derek, it's okay," you cut him off. "Just go."

"But you didn't--"

"Derek." Your hand on the table slid forward, as though wanting to reach out to him but stopped shortly before you did. "I'm always here."

It was such a simple statement. Three small words that carried hardly any weight on their own whatsoever. But strung together, Derek knew exactly what you meant, the real meaning behind the sentence you chose to say.

You can go. It's okay. We'll continue this some other time.

Reeling from your generous understanding, Derek rushed a goodbye before sprinting towards the door. But just as he was about to touch its handle, he span around for one last look, calling out a sentence that he had pocketed safely as a promise.

"I'll see you soon."

Since Derek's last encounter with you at the coffee shop, the BAU had been thrown from one case to another in the span of two weeks, during which Derek seemed to struggle eliminating the thought of you from the depth of his mind.

When a new Monday rolled around, Derek found himself whistling to a favorite tune as he took the morning route towards the coffee shop. The day was a gloomy one, gray and cloudy with a high chance of rain, contrasting entirely with the sunshine inside Derek's chest. In a few minutes, he would finally see you again, and Derek couldn't wait to woo you into agreeing on a date with him as his palm pressed on the door of the coffee shop.

Unfortunately, Derek's movements ceased the moment he stepped into the familiar establishment.

The atmosphere in the coffee shop struck no resemblance to what Derek had associated with the place: warm, safe, and welcoming. Instead, the taste of tension was hot on his tongue, sizzling under the thick silence that had rendered the entire room into a standstill.

In the middle of it all, just a few paces from where the front door stood, Derek had found you.

You were standing with your head down, which wasn't a strange sight considering that you often did that to avoid unwanted attention. But Derek never saw your lips quiver that way before, nor did he ever see your eyes blown so out of proportion in a telltale sign of fright.

Upon a further inspection of the room, Derek realized that he wasn't the only one whose eyes were trained on you. Every patron in the shop, including every worker behind the counter, was staring openly in your direction as well. He was a milisecond away from taking another step when the man in front of you started to scream out of the blue.

"Why aren't you saying anything? Are you fucking stupid?!"

The malicious words didn't sit well with the vituous bone in Derek's body. But it was seeing you flinch from the verbal onslaught that finally made Derek dash forward, putting himself as a shield between you and the insolent stranger.

"That's enough," Derek said as he tugged you behind his back.

The stranger looked up at Derek with an ugly scowl on his face. "Who the hell are you?!"

"If you have a problem, let's take this outsi--"

"I don't have a problem with you, dickhead. I have a problem with her!" Derek extended to his full height instinctively, trying to hide you from the brazen man. "Now, move. This is none of your fucking business!"

"It became my business the second you chose to disrupt everyone's morning," Derek countered. "Why don't you tell me what's going on here?"

"Why don't you ask your bitch, huh? She fucking started all of this."

"Fucking bastard."

Red clouded Derek's vision when he clenched the man's collar in his hand. All around him, the crowd erupted in a chorus of gasps. Satisfaction filled Derek's chest when he glimpsed the hint of fear in the man's eyes.

"I dare you to say one more word about her," Derek seethed. "I dare you."

"Derek." He felt your fingers then, twisting around a portion of his shirt, pulling desperately until Derek loosened his grip on the other man. "Please."

The douchebag stumbled dramatically when Derek finally discarded him to the side.

Derek span around, looking directly into your eyes for the first time that morning. "Are you alright, sweetheart?"

Instead of answering his question, you pushed past a frowning Derek, addressing the horrible man whose face was now crimson; either from rage or embarrassment, Derek didn't know. He didn't care.

"I'm sorry, sir." Your voice vibrated in the air. It wavered with a clear sign of tears. "I didn't... I wasn't thinking. I've caused you trouble. I'm sorry. And I apologize to everyone for ruining your day."

With that, you turned around and picked up your belongings that were scattered on the floor before dashing straight out of the door. Derek stared at your back until it disappeared from view.

"You better tell me what the fuck happened here," Derek fumed towards the man.

"You heard her. She fucked up, that's what happened."

"That's not true." A new voice arose. Derek turned his head to see your barrista friend standing behind the counter, their eyes flaming with anger.

"The poor girl spilled her coffee," another voice interjected. It belonged to an old lady who was standing at the very front of the line. "She didn't mean to, but it got all over his things. Then he just started screaming all kinds of stuff to her."

Derek closed his eyes before reopening them again, shooting daggers towards the man. "You're pulling this crap over a spilled fucking coffee?!"

The other man began to stutter. "She ruined important documents!"

"It wasn't even her fault," the barrista added. "He was too busy being on his phone to watch where he was going."

That last piece of information was the last straw for Derek.

He used his forearm to push the douchebag by the throat, slamming his back against the wall until the man gasped for air.

"You will never step foot in here again, do you hear me?" Derek pressed his elbow deeper into the man, stopping only when he started to nod frantically. "You don't come near this place, ever again. But most importantly, you don't come near her. I'm gonna fucking kill you if you do."

Derek let him go afterwards, ignoring the series of coughs that the man had fallen into while he marched towards the door.

"Don't even think for a minute that I'm gonna let this go!" the man shouted just as Derek was about to exit the coffee shop. "I'll be notifying the authorities about what happened here today. You'll see!"

The scoff Derek let out couldn't be more condescending. "Yeah, you do that. And when you do, tell them--" Derek reached into his pocket, pulling out his credentials before flashing it towards the man, "--the name's Agent Derek Morgan. FBI."

He slammed the door behind him.

Once outside, Derek's eyes darted around to find any trace of you in the midst of the morning rush hour. Eventually, he spotted the back of your head, walking away about a few feet ahead of him. Derek broke into a sprint almost immediately, squeezing himself in between the ocean of people, trying to catch up with you before realizing that he most like wouldn't be able to.

Just as he watched you turning a corner, Derek mourned the fact that he couldn't call out to you because he still didn't know your name.

It was the second Monday that Derek didn't see you anywhere in, or near, the coffee shop.

In total, it had been two whole weeks without you showing your face at the place, not even once. Your barrista friend was as clueless about your whereabouts as Derek was. He even had started coming into the shop at odd hours during the day, or whenever his schedule would allow him to, sometimes lingering for a few minutes in the morning just in case he would catch you walking through those doors.

You never did.

In a moment fueled by something akin to desperation, Derek found himself marching towards the office of Penelope Garcia. If there was anyone who could find you--who you were, where you were, and everything else about you--it was going to be the team's tech genius.

The tech analyst wasn't in the room when Derek entered, and as he found himself standing there--alone in the silence--Derek was confronted by how ridiculous he was being.

He couldn't understand why he was acting like this. Why the thought of never seeing you again managed to lure him into considering a breach of privacy. Derek had barely even talked to you, yet whatever brief interaction the two of you had so far was enough to affect him in ways that shouldn't be possible.

Derek decided to turn around and vacant the room before anyone could catch him lingering there like an idiot, but his steps fell short when he saw Penelope standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here, Sugar?" Penelope questioned, her eyes squinting into a suspicion-filled look.

"Looking for you, of course," Derek lied.

"Derek Morgan, I didn't spend years working with the best profilers in the country to not be able to tell when someone is lying." Penelope walked towards her chair, making sure that she was settled comfortably before swiveling around to face Derek again. "Talk to me."

"Babygirl, there's nothing to talk about."

"Oh my God. It's about a girl."

How the fuck does she do that?

"Derek, you tell me right now every single thing about this lovely creature who has captured your heart, and I meant every single thing. What's her name? What does she do? Where did you guys meet? You guys are official, right? Because if not, then--"

"Okay, Blondie, pump your brakes," Derek interfered before Penelope could vomit the entire content of the Oxford dictionary. "There's no girl."

Penelope frowned. "There isn't?"

"No."

"But you want it to be?"

Derek couldn't give her an answer.

"Mister, you tell me what's going on right now, and don't leave out any details."

So, that was exactly what Derek ended up doing.

He told Penelope about you; about the little snippets of yourself that had infiltrated Derek's subsconscious without him even realizing it, about your first proper interraction where your smile looked more appetizing than the blueberry muffin he had put on the table, and about the incident that marked his last ever encounter with you.

By the time he wrapped the story up, Penelope's face was a heap of reactions.

"You know," the tech analyst finally said, "I can probably find her for you."

"I told you I don't want that, Sweetness."

"But why?!" Penelope nearly whined. "You like her, and her friend said she obviously likes you, too. What if you never see her again? Are you seriously just going to let your story end in what ifs?"

"Of course, I don't want that. But this is not how I want our story to start, too, if there is even gonna be one." Derek gripped Penelope's shoulder, squeezing affectionately. "Thanks for the offer, Babygirl, but maybe it just wasn't meant to be."

For the rest of that day, Derek threw himself into work in order to keep his head preoccupied with something else other than the images of you.

In a few hours, he had successfully completed all of the pending case reports that were piling on his desk. A quick glance at the clock told Derek that he still had another three hours before he was supposed to go home. Sighing, Derek got up from his desk and walked towards the pantry.

"It's been four hours," Derek heard Emily say as soon as he walked towards the kitchenette. "What are they doing there?"

"She could be a reporter. Maybe she's interviewing him," Spencer theorized.

"Who's interviewing who?" Derek asked.

He headed for the coffee maker only to realize that there was no coffee left. Derek cursed under his breath before he went to make a fresh batch.

"Rossi has a guest, and they've been in his office for four hours," Spencer explained.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Really? I didn't see anyone."

"She came in during lunch."

"Huh. A woman?"

Spencer nodded.

"Potential lover?" Derek asked again.

"I don't think so. She's young."

"Unless, he's that kind of guy." Emily smirked.

Spencer frowned. "What kind of guy?"

"I don't think Rossi's like that." Derek chuckled.

"Who is she, then?" Emily questioned.

"Is no one going to tell me what kind of guy Rossi is?" Spencer suddenly said.

"A student, perhaps? A fan? Who knows?" Derek shrugged. "Or maybe you were right. She's here to interview him."

"Oh! Here they come!" Emily exclaimed a few minutes later.

Derek turned to steal a glance at the guest that had captured his fellow teammates' interest. But just as he was about to catch a glimpse of her, Derek suddenly spilled hot coffee everywhere, flooding nearly half the counter until some of it dripped down the cabinets as well.

"Shit." Derek stared at the mess he had made in annoyance. "Fuck me."

"She's really pretty, though," Emily pointed out--no doubt about Rossi's guest--earning an agreeing hum from Spencer.

After he had cleaned up the spilled coffee, Derek ambled back towards the direction of his desk. As he was passing the glass doors to the bullpen, however, Derek saw Rossi standing in front of the elevator, waving towards the person who had just walked inside of it.

Someone who--as Derek realized with a particularly loud thump in his chest--turned out to be you.

Derek was barely able to place the steaming cup of coffee on a random desk before he made a run for the elevator. But just as he reached Rossi's side, the elevator's doors had closed, making you vanish once more from Derek's sight.

"Shit," Derek muttered. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

Beside him, Rossi was staring in open confusion. "Morgan?"

Derek finally turned towards the older man. "The girl who was in the elevator. Who is she?"

Rossi's forehead creased. "Why?"

"Do you know her?"

"She's a fellow crime writer. She was here for a consultation," Rossi answered. "Are you gonna tell me what's going on?"

"Her name. What's her name?"

"What the hell is going on, Morgan?"

"Rossi, come on, man," Derek sounded desperate, but he didn't care. "I just need her name."

Derek barely succeeded in mumbling a quick thank you to Rossi for giving him your name before he rushed straight to the emergency stairs. The entire run down to the lobby was a blur in Derek's eyes. The only focus in his mind was about getting to you.

Once he was outside of the headquarters building, Derek saw you walking a few paces ahead of him in the direction of the parking lot. He shouted your name with all of his might, seeing you stop and turn your body around from the distance, and soon enough, he had managed to close it in a matter of seconds.

Derek was a mess of panting breaths and drumming heartbeats when he finally stood in front of you. The look you gave him spoke of surprise and bewilderment, and Derek relished in the feeling of being at the receiving end of your lovely gaze.

"Derek? What? What are you--"

"I work with Rossi," Derek stated simply.

Your eyebrows escalated in surprise. "You do?"

"Yeah. I saw you earlier with him," Derek continued. "I haven't seen you in awhile."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Derek allowed his eyes to roam over your entire person, from the top of your head to the tip your toes. There was no malice in his stare as he did, just appreciation, and maybe a little bit of longing from not having seen you in such a long time.

"I haven't been to the coffee shop again. Not after--" you swallowed the lump in your throat. "I was embarrassed. I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart."

"You got dragged into my mess. I owe you an apology."

"You owe me nothing. Okay? What happened wasn't your fault. That man was just an asshole," Derek told you truthfully. "You don't have to be worried about him anymore. He's never coming back."

His last statement caused you to lift your head up so fast, Derek was scared you were going to have a whiplash.

"Nothing happened, sweetheart," he elaborated once he saw the panic in your eyes. "I just made sure to let him know that he wasn't welcome there anymore."

The breath you let out sounded eerily similar with relief.

"Thank you, Derek. For everything," you offered shyly. "Please tell me if there's anything I could do to make it up to you."

That last sentence you uttered prompted a wide grin across Derek's face. "Actually, there may be something."

Derek took a step closer towards you then, noting the way your shoulders tensed up from his proximity. His own senses were overcome by everything about you; from the slight parting of your lips, the steady rise and fall of your chest that seemed to be growing more rapid in Derek's presence, and to the sweet plus addictive smell of your perfume.

Taking his own deep breath, Derek forced the words--the same ones that he had been keeping deep inside of him--to tumble freely into the air.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

[luveline]

hi honey, i love you so so much!!

what about stripper!reader with derek morgan?? he's on a case where strippers are being murdered, and while hotch is driving morgan calls you and tells you not to go into work because of what's going on, and emily is listening in on the conversation from the backseat and they tease him

thank youu!! love you!

ty for requesting lovely!! ilysm ♡

"I know you don't like listening to me, but could you do me a favour? Just this once?" 

Emily leans over in her seat so Spencer can see her side eye. "Who's Morgan talking to?" 

"Stay home tonight. No, this isn't a jealousy thing, you vixen–" 

Spencer shrugs. "No idea. But–" 

"But," Emily agrees. They've just left a crime scene with a specific victim, and now Morgan's on the phone asking someone to stay home. That someone would have reason to visit said crime scene's location, and the word vixen suggests female rather than male, which means, "Morgan has a secret stripper girlfriend." 

Spencer's entire face takes his frown, eyebrows pinched, mouth quirked into a telling line. "I like the implausible," he murmurs, "but that feels illogical. Where would they have met?"

"Uh," Emily says, widening her eyes at him. "Where do you think, Spence?" 

"Morgan doesn't need to go to a strip club." 

Emily understands what Spencer's saying. There are lots of reasons that people frequent strip clubs or gentlemen's clubs and none of those reasons apply to Derek. It's possible he could go socially, but it's just so unlike him, it doesn't add up. 

"I'm telling you the truth. I can't give you more detail than that, I just need you to stay home tonight." Derek pauses, laughs. "Alright," —his voice takes on a mechanical rendition, clearly having been fed a line he has to repeat aloud— "I, Derek Morgan, am an ignorant, jealous man, who can't cope with the fact that you don't want me, and am making up sad and childish lies to get you to stay home from your job. Is that what you wanted? Yeah, laugh it up." 

Emily laughs and grabs the headrest as he hangs up on you, pulling herself forward to taunt him as is required. "Care to explain yourself?" 

Derek sighs. "This is why I didn't tell you guys." 

"What!" Spencer says, though his smile is more audible than his incredulity. 

"So you have something to tell us?" Emily asks. 

Derek knows he can't weasel his way out of telling them, and he doesn't really want to. "I don't have a secret stripper girlfriend," he says, rolling his eyes, "she's not my girlfriend. She is an exotic dancer at one of the clubs downtown, and I met her at Home Depot." 

Emily isn't perturbed that Derek heard their gossiping. She's shameless. She doesn't even care that Hotch is frowning behind the wheel. "What was an exotic dancer doing at Home Depot?"

"Weirdly, Emily, she has a home. She wanted help finding renter friendly flooring." 

"Can we meet her?" 

"Never," Derek says with a smile. Emily couldn't know this, but he really likes you. You're sweet, super funny, and yes, you're a stripper. You work hard. Pole dancing is as physically demanding as any manual labour and you're damn good at it. "Ever." 

Spencer interjects the ensuing argument with a statistical analysis of strippers who are homeowners (unfairly few), but Morgan doesn't answer, trying to read a new text from you discretely. 

Sorry if I embarrassed you at work :( is it really not safe to go ?? Maybe u can come and be my bodyguard. I won't even make u tip me 4:10PM

He sends back, Really not safe. Stay home for me, relax for a few days. Call you tonight even if nothing changes 4:11PM

My hero <3 I trust u, but be careful OK ? and pls if it isn't too much trouble can u bring back some of those weird candies again? thank u thank u <3<3<3 4:14PM

Hotch makes a quiet sound of approval, eyes on the road. "The same girl you were with at Docklands? Rossi said she was cute." 

"She is." 

"Rossi met her?" Emily asks. "Oh, you're the worst."

[leanteam43]

Little Ways They Show They Care (Criminal Minds HC's)

summary : how different members of the BAU would show they care !! <43

pronouns : they/them | GN!reader!

warnings : swearing, i think thats it

a/n's : guess whos bacckkkkk - 🌿 | heyy bookie beeaaarsss- 🎸 | what should i say - 🐇

Aaron Hotchner

ACTS OF SERVICE !!

with a healthy sprinkle of gift giving~~

bro will travel across the COUNTY to pick up food from your fav restaurant

he just loves doing things to make your life easier

"i was planning on moving my couch against that wall but-" "done." "wtf-"

when y'all first started dating, you were a little overwhelmed by how willing he was to help with chores around your apartment

"you're my boyfriend not my maid..."

but he assured you he liked doing things for you, as it helped him know you were taken care of while he was away on cases

somehow always knows when you want/need something

like if you run out of your fav makeup/personal hygiene product

expect it to be gifted too you the very next day

basically he just really likes helping you out in (mostly) subtle but sweet ways

Derek Morgan

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION !!

i mean come on

we allllllllll (and i mean ALLLL) hear how he speaks to penelope

so of course with you he wouldn't be any different

except he's a bit less confident because i mean come on

yOU'RE YOUUUU, YOU LITTLE SHINING STAR <43

random calls at any point throughout the day

*3 am* "..hello?" "did you know spencer likes cheetos??"

derek is an extremely spontaneous man

like my guy is pulling up to your house with no heads-up and SHOWERING you in compliments

FASHION SHOWS AFTER YOU GO SHOPPINGGGG !!!

"GIVE ME A LITTLE TWIRL"

he's your personal hype man

Spencer Reid

QUALITY TIMEEEE :DDD

if you wanna sit down and ramble to this man, feel FREE

contrary too "popular belief", he actually can listen too others talking without interrupting, he just chooses not too /hj

he chooses to bite back his facts and quips for

refreshes himself on the classics while you sit with your legs thrown over his lap rambling about a stray cat you saw on your way too work

"did you know most calicos are females? of course you did, you're a genius" "...thank you?"

of course you do allow him to ramble too you, you're not a monster

tries to prepare you for any and every disaster

"what do you do if a car is following you?" "...peddle away?" "you don't even own a bike."

he really just wants you to be safe

"could i, hypothetically, put pepper spray on chicken?" "what do YOU think?"

JJ Jareau

QUALITY TIMEEEE <43

after long days of speaking to press, she still makes an effort to create a comfortable space for the two of you

it doesn't matter how late

or how tired

she finds a way to make time for the two of you to sit together on the couch and relax <43

after extremely hard cases, she'd just want to be around you

laying her head on your shoulder while you both recharge

the next morning,

y'all would wake up at different times but she always makes sure to make your coffee/tea exactly too your liking before rushing too the office

sometimes at the expense of being late, but oh well :D

[velvetcloxds]

if you're too shy- dbf!derek morgan where he's secretly dating rossi's daughter and when she's in trouble the team goes in to help her and instead of running to rossi she runs to derek

BRAVE | D.M.

word count: 1k (I'm really trying to keep these short, I swear ksjc)

warnings: I'm in love with him, your honor (also the reader being in danger obvs)

Derek wasn't sure how no one had realized just how absolutely shattered he'd been from the second they got that tape of you tied up and wounded, begging for help. He was sure it was obvious just how mad he was with worry, how on edge he was, how terrified he was- he blamed it on everyone else's worry, especially your father, if your father was even the tiniest bit focused on anything other than finding you he'd have put the pieces together immediately. He didn't care for it now, trying to hide how he felt, he wanted to find you, wanted to know you were safe and if he got his ass handed to him by Rossi in the process then so be it.

Truth be told, Rossi had noticed, everyone was worried, and everyone was on edge but it wasn't the first time they had lost someone on the team and though you weren't on the team, you were definitely part of the family. Derek, however, wasn't acting like he lost a team member, not close. Rossi would've had to be blind not to see the look on his face every time a lead fell through, the balled fists as he rewatched the video of you as if looking at it one more time would show him something new the team had missed, tell him something he hadn't heard, or the way his face showed such genuine fear when he first heard your voice- Derek was about as easy to read as the Sunday paper and Rossi, though not pleased at all with what that meant, had a feeling you'd be acting the very same if the roles were reversed.

Which is why, despite everything in him, Rossi was the one who volunteered to go first, check the rooms first, look for the unsub first, why he'd let Derek lead the team to look for you, why he'd let him go after the sound of your voice instead of the sound of a gun- if Derek's behaviour was anything to go by, you'd probably be wanting him anyway, it'd be him you'd be calling for from beneath your restrictions- and he was right.

You were crying, fighting against the restraints, fighting to feel him, to be free in a way that only his arms could free you and he was trying, gun discarded and knees on the bare concrete, cooing all the while as his tremored hands attempted to undo the knots.

"I'm trying, baby," he breathed, voice nearly as unsteady as his movements, barely keeping hold of his sanity as your crying intensified. "I know, sweet thing, I know, just one more second," and that's all it took before you were loose, the way you reached for each other was messy, reckless, senseless, you weren't sure how you'd tangled yourselves so quickly but you were on his lap, not a care for a single one of your injuries as you grabbed at his neck. "You're safe," he sighed, finally allowing the relive to find him, not concerned in the slightest for what the team would think as they rushed into the room behind him.

"I asked for you," you admitted, your voice a broken sound, hoarse from the shouting, trembling from the crying, not at all controlled. "In the video, it was stupid," you wanted to see him, pulling away with hands not delicate in the slightest as you cupped his cheeks. "Didn't want you to worry," you weren't thinking at all about who was listening, watching, trying to climb onto him even more, lean into him even more, eliminate the concept of space completely because you didn't want to be out of his arms for even a second ever again.

"You weren't stupid," he argued, his own hand mimicking yours as he brushed a thumb over your cheek, avoiding the scar that hid under dried blood, fuming at the sight, the only thing keeping him from beating the life out of the bastard who did this to you was the impossible grip you had on him. "You were brave, baby girl, so damn brave," he insisted and you nodded without thinking, entranced, exhausted, with the adrenaline leaving your system the ordeal was starting to catch up with you.

"Is my dad here too?"

"Right here," you looked over Derek's shoulder to find the pair of eyes that had been taking in your whole interaction, not at all expecting him to move forward and place a lingering kiss on the top of your hand, hand squeezing Derek's shoulder as he did so. "You think I'd let your guy over here take all the credit for saving you?" he mused and you managed a small smile, syncing into Derek's arms, body too heavy to stay upright any longer and of course, Derek was expecting the sudden slump and the nuzzle of your head into his neck as he lifted the pair of you up from the ground.

"We wanted to tell you," Derek noted as the medics moved you onto the gurney, connecting you to all the wires and machines, ignoring your whispered pleas for the time being. "She was scared."

"For you?" Rossi quipped, already knowing the answer, shrugging when your partner nodded guiltily, already moving to join you on the ambulance, instinct kicking in when he heard you begging for him, saw you reaching for him. "Don't think facing the father could be as terrifying as this," he tried a lighthearted comment, but it had a bite to it, tension still thick, nerves still soaring. Derek nodded again, looking down at you with eyes so full of love it was sickening.

"No sir," he agreed and smiled as you looked up at him with a big, dazed stare, a dreamlike look matching his own as you forced your entwined hands to your mouth to brush a light kiss to his knuckles. "Nothing could be as scary as losing her."

[fragileruns]

Hello love! Would it be possible to request something with derek morgan x inexperienced!reader? I think it's such an interesting dynamic since he's a very suave person. Maybe something about the reader being nervous or insecure of having less experience than he does? You can go either fluffy or smut or both 🥰 I hope this request finds you well. Thank you in advance!! ❤️

hi! thank you for your request <3 it’s just a little blurb but i hope you like it

derek morgan x reader. content warning: mentions of sex but no smut, reader being nervous, derek being a gentleman, reader likes coffee so if you don’t i’m sorry, reader has hair but i think the rest is gender neutral

You had spent longer than you’d care to admit picking out an outfit for your date tonight. You knew that Derek had seen you at your worst - working together had made it inevitable for him to see you sick at least once, tired, irritable, and much worse than that - but it still felt like a big deal.

It was your third date, and you knew what the implications meant. Even if you didn’t, Emily, JJ, and Penelope and taken to relentlessly teasing you to make sure you did know. And sure, you’d known each other for years and had been in this sort of relationship for a few months (your work made it hard to plan times to be together, which was why you’d been on so few dates), but you were nervous.

You had never really been with many people. Somehow, Derek had managed to be with quite a few people even with how often you had to be away for your job: you knew this because everyone did. He wasn’t exactly subtle. You, however, were not as skilled at picking up anyone while you were away or at home, for that matter. The only people you’d been with were the few actual relationships you’d had in the past.

So, you were sitting on his couch after your date - he had cooked for you, which somehow made this all even more nerve wracking - and you were trying desperately not to bounce your knee.

After what felt like forever, and simultaneously not long enough to prepare yourself, Derek had come to plop down next to you. He insisted you go sit while he did the dishes, something about being a ‘gentleman’ and ‘needing you to sit pretty.’

You were sure he’d noticed your nerves, but he had been kind enough not to say anything yet. However, once he placed a hand on your thigh in what was meant to be a comforting way, and you tensed up, he couldn’t hold it in.

“What’s up with you tonight? Did I do something wrong? You’re not vegan, are you?” He questioned, worried that maybe you hadn’t really enjoyed your dinner.

“What? No,” your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him for a mere second, before casting your gaze in front of you. “Nothing’s wrong with me, I’m just tired.”

“Trying to lie to a profiler? Babe, that’s like, the worst move you could make,” Derek chuckled slightly, turning to face you more. He was trying to make light of the situation, and you appreciated that, but your nerves didn’t seem to care.

“I’m a profiler, too.”

“So you should know you can’t hide things from me. C’mon, just spit it out,” his hand moved to brush your hair off of your shoulder before rubbing it to try and coax whatever was wrong out of you. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

You shot him a look, and he grinned. “Okay, depending on what it is, I may laugh. Just a little bit. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to tell me.”

“I just - it’s our third date.”

“Really? Thought it was our fifth.” He tried to joke, but when it didn’t seem to calm you any, he just shook his head and mumbled a small apology.

“And there’s… implications that go along with it.”

Derek tilted his head, looking at you similar to a confused dog. But when you didn’t clarify and instead only gave him a look, he understood what you meant.

“And you’re worried about that?”

“I mean, kind of. Yes. I just,” you sighed as you tried to piece your words together, cheeks flush with embarrassment about even having to have this conversation. You were an adult, but for some reason, telling your sort of boyfriend that you hadn’t had sex in a while still felt awkward. “I’m not really.. experienced, I guess. I’ve only been with a few people. And you-”

“Used to be a total manwhore?”

“I wasn’t going to say that. And I really wish Garcia hadn’t taught you that term.”

He laughed at that then, and his arm lifted off of your shoulder to trail down your arm, before he grabbed onto your hand.

“Look, I’m not expecting anything out of tonight, okay? I just wanted to spend time with you, I don’t care if I see you naked tonight. Or for a while. It doesn’t matter,” he started, and the seriousness on his face was almost odd, since you were used to his teasing grin. “If you’re not ready for it, I’m not ready for it. Just because it’s our third date doesn’t mean we’re required to have sex. And I wasn’t really thinking about that, anyway. I don’t want to do it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t want you to be disappointed because I’m not as good as you expected. Or what you’re used to,” You frowned, and it made him frown, almost like a mirror.

“Baby. Sweetheart. Honey. You seriously think I’m going to be disappointed? I used to wake up early every morning so I could get coffee from your favorite place just so I could have an excuse to bring you a cup and talk to you.”

“That’s forty minutes out of the way.”

“I know. I’m like, borderline obsessed with you. You should be creeped out.” When the corners of your lips turned up at that, he broke out into a grin, and leaned forward to grab your face into his hands, forcing you to look at him. “What I’m saying is, I could never be disappointed by anything you do. If we have sex, and only whenever you’re ready for it, it’s going to be great for me no matter what. ‘Cause it means that I’m with you.”

Your head leaned against the palm of his hand, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to your lips, quick but loving.

“If you’re ever feeling stressed about these things, you need to just tell me. Don’t sulk, you shouldn’t be nervous about anything. Not with me. Got it?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly and his hands drop from his face, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you to his side, your head falling onto his shoulder.

“Great. Now - which horror movie do you wanna watch? Halloween or Scream?”