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#shemar moore
augustreids · 2 days
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I’m a feminist obviously…
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hotchnerbau · 1 month
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astrophileous · 6 months
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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."
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reidobsessed · 4 months
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The whole cast is sickeningly fine
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dilfgifs · 1 month
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SHEMAR MOORE S.W.A.T. 7.01 "The Promise"
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archive-folder · 6 months
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iluvreid · 2 months
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THE BASEBALL EPISODE IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE. THE WAY HE SLID ACROSS THE FLOOR THINGY ( im british idk baseball). AND GE WAS SO PROUD OF HIMSELF AND DEREK WAS SO PROUD OF HIM. #MOREID HE JUST LOOKED SO SCRUMPTIOUS, SO BABYGIRL OMG I JUST WANNA BRAID HIS HAIR AND DANCE TO TAYLOR SWIFT🫢🫢🫢🫢
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shardsofmarxx · 2 months
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i love their dynamic sm
(from @/2000.tv.queen on tiktok)
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xervoxs · 2 months
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Hotch*checking under the bed*
Hotch: see no monsters in here
Reid: and closet..
Hotch*opening the closet*: see..
Hotch: Emily?
Hotch: come out, now
Emily: i'm lesbian
Morgan*coming out of nowhere*: i knew it
Reid*screams*
Hotch: what the..
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whoisspence · 2 months
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REAL !!!!!!!
she carried the whole team, literally
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marril96 · 2 months
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Criminal Minds 11.02 | The Witness
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littlecarmine · 6 months
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SPENCER REID and DEREK MORGAN
CRIMINAL MINDS — 8.06 "THE APPRENTICESHIP"
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criminalskies · 5 months
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I just saw Mandy Patinkin’s (actor for Jason Gideon) tiktok of his top ten favourite snacks where he said one of them is Mandarin Oranges and 🥹 it reminds me of one of my favourite scenes!!
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looking back I can’t help but think this was just Mandy sharing a mandy with his coworkers 🥹
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redhoodie1723 · 10 months
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even more duos!
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 6 part 7 part 8
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teenwolf-theoriginals · 8 months
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criminal minds + favourite moments - 4.07
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astrophileous · 6 months
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The Monday Pursuit
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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
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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.
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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."
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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.
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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?"
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