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 town 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.”
hi so if you saw my post yesterday you would know i’m going to leave this account
my mental health isn’t the best right now and honestly, this account is part of it. it’s been difficult to find motivation to even post content as well as finding the good on here versus the bad
so, i’m going to abandon this account. all fics and posts will stay up and won’t be deleted
i may check in once and awhile (don’t count on it) but as of right now, this account is inactive and has no plans of having more content put out on it
thank you all for the memories and allowing me to have this outlet
it’s been a very crazy, lovely and overall outstanding year! it was the year i finally decided to create my little space to share my love for my fandoms, and in the process I got to meet amazing people who made my tumblr experience really great, and I am so so grateful for it.
all of you have a place in my heart, thank you interacting with me, for making me smile with your posts, for talking with me in discord servers, through asks and tags, and for overall being in my life, again i’m so grateful for all of it.
may the new year bring us better things, more smiles, more love and better times, big hugs to all of you 💗
(I combined this with my side blogs so if you are mutual from champagneandproblems and godessofchastity ,this is my main, hi loves)
summary - george comforts you after a tough day of classes
warnings - none
*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧
everything that had happened in your day was wrong.
starting with almost missing breakfast and thus your first class, your day was already screwed up before it even really began.
you didn’t get to see george much either. his schedule was the complete opposite of yours on this day only. you would normally turn to your boyfriend for some comfort, but not being able to see him greatly hindered that.
you got let out of your last class early. binns was slowly becoming frustrated with the classes participation and well, who could blame you. his class was notouriously boring.
however, before you got to leave, he had finally lost his temper only to spend a few minutes yelling, with a sprinkle of complaining, at the class. it only added to your stress, tears pricked at your eyes subconsciously as the ghost went off.
the second he had dismissed you, you had scurried out of the classroom and towards the gryffindor tower. even though george was still in class, his room was the closet thing to calming you down.
everything was gojng even more wrong. you had mountains of homework and you were beyond exhausted.
sleep slowly became the only viable option. you needed to rest before doing any work, you already knew anything you wrote down at the current moment would either be messy, barely understandable, or smudged with your tears.
you made your way up the stairs to the boys dormitory, mentally cursing to yourself for george and the others rooms being higher up on the tower.
his shared room was easy enough to find. you had been up there plenty of times, him even making an initiative to keep some of your clothes up there incase you stayed the night.
after slipping your robe and sweater off, you slid under the covers of george’s bed. his scent enveloped you immediately; warm vanilla and just the hint of smoke from some prank he and fred were working on.
it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. between the mental exhaustion from the day and how nice the feel of the room, you slipped into a peaceful slumber soon enough.
the weasley twins were already moving to climb the stairs the second they made it back to the gryffindor tower.
“are you still going to go to quidditch practice? it’s not mandatory but i’m not sure how oliver will feel about you missing,” fred questioned his twin.
both stopped at noticing they weren’t the only two in the room. you were fast asleep in george’s bed, eyes puffed up and red and very evident tear tracks on your cheeks.
george frowned, already moving to place his books down at the foot of his bed and shed his robe.
“you can go. i’m just going to lie down with her for a little, make sure she’s okay and all.”
fred nodded, bidding a quick goodbye before leaving the dorms once again.
george, in turn, kicked off his shoes as he took a seat down on the edge of the bed. you stirred slightly at the sudden contact, though you didn’t fully wake.
“darling?”
you hummed, slowly allowing your eyes to open at hearing george’s voice.
“you’re back.”
“of course i’m back, classes are over,” george commented. his hand moved down to rest against your cheek, thumb caressing your soft skin. “i’m just wondering why my girlfriend is laying in my bed.”
you immediately hid your face at his words, tears starting to prick the corners of your eyes once more.
“hey hey hey,” george spoke. “i didn’t mean it like that. i’m not mad, just curious.”
you sighed, patting the spot next to you. george slid in beside you in an instant. you instantly gravitated towards him, his warmth already bringing you a strong feeling of comfort and safety.
“today’s just sucked. all of my professors have been particularly mad and have taken it out on us. i spilled my potion in snape’s class, take a guess on how he reacted. and then binns screamed at us and it’s just to much.”
you finished your small rant by hiding your face in george’s arm.
“i’m so sorry sweetheart, is there anything i can do?”
“i don’t know,” you admitted. “could you maybe just hold me for a little? i haven’t seen you all day.”
george nodded, pulling you closer towards him so you could nestle your head in the crook of his neck. a gentle feather kiss to his jawline followed, george’s mouth shifting into a smile at the feeling.
you stifled a yawn, already feeling tired once more after just waking up.
“it’s alright darling, go to sleep. i’ll be here when you wake up,” george whispered, leaning down to place a gentle kiss to your temple.
respect peoples’ dni! if they have age restrictions on their blog, respect that! if you are older/younger than the age restrictions, unfollow and stop interacting. there are dni’s for a reason and ignoring them is a gross misuse of power (if you’re older) and just oversteps so many boundaries you may not be aware of.
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