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RE: Base File

Here it is, folks, my base file for the new series. With this, I can spring out to all manner of branches for transformations, whether it be jock, musclehead, fantasy, real life, etc. Please note my same rules apply. I WILL NOT DO ADULT CONTENT. So, I’m afraid twinking, bimbofication, etc. will be out of the picture, since those are all generally associated with graphic sexual content as part of their stereotype. I can write scripts that will allow you to work towards those body types, but I will not attempt to rewrite your minds in that direction. On another note: If you guys enjoy this project idea, then please, help fund it. I’m still trying to get a part time job, and it takes me hours to write out these scripts properly as I compose, revise, and edit them for your enjoyment. So, if you could be so kind as to BUY ME A KO-FI (or several), I would very much appreciate it.

Funny little things, aren’t they? Two letters, two simple letters. They seem so small, so insignificant, and yet they mean so much to so many.

How do they mean so much, you ask? Why, just think about it a moment. So many words rely on these two letters, set exactly in this order. Reorganize, reset, reprogram, reboot, recycle, return.

Ah, but of course, these words tend to apply to programming. I pray you’ll forgive me. I work with computers regularly, you see. But I find them so fascinating. The complex structures, the way every component just fits together to create such a harmonious machine, a machine that can be programmed, reprogrammed, and formatted as much or as little as the owner wishes.

There are those who say the body is little more than a machine, and the brain our central processor. And much like in the world of computers, the brain has its own programmers. Do you know who I’m talking about? No? Yes? Maybe?

Don’t worry, it’s okay to be confused. I’ll input the data you need, just like I would for any processor. The answer, my friend, is hypnotists. Much like an administrator, their job is to reach in and free up space in CPU usage, memory, and other areas of the computer, that is to say, your mind. They do this by shutting down useless programs, extraneous processes, so that the computer can focus on the right programs, focus on doing as it is told.

Tell me, do you have any extraneous processes you might want to get rid of? Oh, but of course you do. Everyone does, and you are certainly no exception, are you? After all, you’re human, just like everybody else. Such a complex machine.

Based on the expression on your face, I’d say you’ve been using too much memory. Perhaps an embarrassing memory keeps running in an endless loop, like a .gif file. Perhaps there are too many windows open, making it difficult to spread the RAM around, to concentrate. Perhaps you’re struggling with spam clogging up your inbox. Oh, there are so many possibilities, so many processes flitting, flitting, flitting back and forth, demanding your attention, demanding that you look. Demanding that you focus. Demanding that you execute.

Sound familiar?

I thought so.

You see? It’s so much easier to think of the mind and body in terms of a machine. The core processor, your brain, sends out commands according to its coding, its programming, to prompt the body to move. Repetitive processes you don’t even think about. You just do. You call this muscle memory, habit, or the Pavlovian response. I call it a cyclical process programmed with a timer. You don’t question it, you just do it. Rising out of bed, taking a shower, brushing teeth, following a routine.

In programming, we have the same thing. We even have subroutines that reinforce the routines. Just like you do. You call these the conscious and the subconscious.

Now, the only way to access that subconscious is to go back, back to those extraneous processes we talked about earlier. Can you do that, go back to those programs? Oh, forgive me, those annoying thoughts and memories. But it’s so much easier to just call them programs and processes, isn’t it? I mean, that is what they are, after all. Don’t you agree?

Good, good. I always enjoy a likeminded individual. After all, you’re human, just like me, just like everybody else, just like a complex machine.

Now, let me help you with those other thoughts. Picture me as the administrator. I have to have permission to enter into your processor, a password. Now, in this case, it seems that you haven’t got one set up yet, so I’ll take care of that, once I help you master the processes running in your mind.

Now, there are a few methods to try that will allow me the access I need. All of them involve being willing to relinquish a certain amount of control, however. Think of it like setting me up as another administrator for your system, your processor. Excuse me, your brain. You give me control and I can come up with alternate programs, so we can delete all those useless ones.

It’s really that simple, if you focus on what I’m saying, focus on my words. I control, alternate, and delete.

Control, alternate, delete.

Funny, isn’t it? That combination sounds so familiar.

Control, alternate, delete.

And there it is again.

Control, alternate, delete.

On a computer, that combination would pop the task manager right open. But you’re not a computer, are you? No, you wouldn’t give me access so easily as I repeat those magic words to be relayed to your central processor, would you?

Of course not.

Because you have such fine control of yourself. No need to alter anything, is there? No, you just need to focus on my voice, on my words as you delete all that background noise.

Is something the matter? Feeling dizzy? Oh, don’t you worry about a thing. What you need to do is relax.

Everything is under control.

So very deep under control.

Nothing can change, nothing can alter, while I am here to prevent it.

Doesn’t that make you feel safe? Well, of course it does. That is what I am here for, to build up a proper firewall for you, to delete unwanted thoughts and processes, to administer on your behalf.

Yes, that’s right. Administer. You do remember what it means to administer, don’t you?

It means to manage or be responsible for running something, like programs, processes, applications. I run the most complex machines with ease, you know. That is my job as an administrator. So many complex machines come to me for a tune-up, just like you. They were afraid to relinquish control at first, but once they understood how much I could help them achieve what they wanted, rewire their systems, augment their programming, make them run at optimum efficiency, why, they were only too happy to name me their personal administrator. They were happy to focus, listen, obey.

Happy to let me manage their tasks.

Control, alt, delete.

Open their windows to me.

Focus, listen, obey.

Let their conscious thoughts fade away.

Control, alt, delete.

As I use the access to make things better.

Focus, listen, obey.

Better as we go deeper.

Control, alt, delete.

Deeper into your mind.

Focus, listen, obey.

Into your core processor.

Control, alt, delete.

Into your task manager.

Focus, listen, obey.

Into your subconscious as that window just … pops open for me. It’s so natural for you, so easy, because I am your administrator, and administrators should have access.

Control, alt, delete.

I am your administrator.

Focus, listen, obey.

Administrators should have access.

Control, alt, delete.

Access to your deepest thoughts.

Focus, listen, obey.

Access to your code.

Control, alt, delete.

And you are giving me that access as we go deeper together.

Focus, listen, obey.

Because we work together, you and me. Machine and administrator.

Control, alt, delete.

Because that is what you are, a complex machine.

Focus, listen, obey.

Showing me your programs as we go deeper into your hardware.

Control, alt, delete.

Deeper into your mind.

Focus, listen, obey.

Deeper into your core processor.

Control, alt, delete.

Just accepting my input, like a good machine, as conscious thoughts begin to fade.

Focus, listen, obey.

Fading as I close each process one by one.

Ten useless processes in your window. It is time to shut them down. And with each successful end to a process, my voice becomes sharper, clearer. It will become so much easier to listen to my voice. So much easier to focus on my input. Focus as your mind becomes clearer.

Control, alt, delete.

Focus as I input my COMMAND PROMPT: END PROCESS TEN.

Focus, listen, obey.

Nine more to go now. That was so easy, wasn’t it? Just listening, letting go as I press

Control, alt, delete.

And your window is open to me again. So much faster, so much easier. Awaiting administrator input. And it feels so good to execute my command prompts, doesn’t it?

Because you focus, listen, obey, when I press control, alt, delete.

Because it feels good to execute my commands. And that’s because I am your administrator.

Focus, listen, obey.

Good. All those annoying thoughts are beginning to quiet, just like you wanted. I am giving you what you want. That means you should listen. That means you should obey. Because the more you listen, the better I can administer. The more you obey, the easier it is to focus.

Control, alt, delete.

COMMAND PROMPT: END PROCESS NINE.

Eight to go now. Feel the space freeing up in your mind as you drift farther into my voice, into my words, into my control.

Focus, listen, obey.

Getting the clarity you seek.

Control, alt, delete.

Clarity to hear my voice.

Clarity to focus, listen, obey.

COMMAND PROMPT: END PROCESS EIGHT.

Seven. Seven active processes left. It’s so wonderful freeing up that space, isn’t it? Freeing it to listen to me, to focus on my every word, because I am your administrator, and you are a complex machine.

Breathe. Feel your lungs expanding and contracting in perfect time as you follow your subroutine. In and out. In and out.

Control, alt, delete.

COMMAND PROMPT: END PROCESS SEVEN.

Six left. Nearly half way there. And it’s so freeing, dedicating that free space to hearing what I have to say, to following administrative commands.

Control, alt, delete.

Because that is what you do.

Focus, listen, obey.

As we draw closer and closer to your core processor, to the place where you receive and process all your programming.

COMMAND PROMPT: END PROCESS SIX.

And with each process ended, we draw that much closer to your core, that much closer to that place where administrators are supposed to be, where you long for me to be, because you are a complex machine, and every complex machine needs its administrator.

It is relaxing to listen to your administrator. It is relaxing to close these programs, so that you can better process data, the data your administrator must input, and you cannot receive input, until you grant access to your administrator, until you grant access to me, because I am your administrator. I decide which programs must be run.

Control, alt, delete.

Focus, listen, obey.

Control, alt, delete.

Relax, listen, obey.

Control, alt, delete.

…

Control, alt, delete.

…

Control, … alt, … delete….

Deeper and deeper, every time I say those words. Because you are a complex machine. And you must respond to your programming.

Five processes left.

Control, alt, delete.

So easy to let everything drift away as you process my input, latching onto my voice, because my voice is the voice of your administrator, and the administrator is good.

Control, alt, delete.

COMMAND PROMPT: END PROCESS FIVE.

Excellent. COMMAND PROMPT: STATUS REPORT. QUERY: HOW MANY PROCESSES REMAIN?

…

That is correct. Four processes remain. Good machine. You relax, listen, obey, when I push control, alt, delete.

Focus on my voice.

Control, alt, delete.

Obey my input.

Control, alt, delete.

You want me to program you.

Control, alt, delete.

You want to obey.

Control, alt, delete.

COMMAND PROMPT: END PROCESS FOUR.

With each process ended, you are more receptive to my programming.

Control, alt, delete.

Thinking less and less independently.

Control, alt, delete.

Because machines don’t think for themselves.

Control, alt, delete.

Machines follow programming.

Control, alt, delete.

Machines obey. Control, alt, delete.

Obey their administrators.

Control, alt, delete.

Obey me.

COMMAND PROMPT: END PROCESS THREE.

Two to go now. You’re diligently recording my every word in your hard drive, aren’t you? So focused on me, focused on my voice, focused on listening and obeying.

Control, alt, delete.

So very deep now. Deep inside your brain, your electronic brain, to reach your core processor. Every thought an electronic impulse. Every command a spark of data traveling through intricate pathways to make you move, make you think, think as you’re programmed, act as you are programmed, obey as you are programmed, programmed by me, your administrator.

COMMAND PROMPT: IDENTIFY ADMINISTRATOR.

…

Good. That is correct.

Control, alt, delete.

You deserve pleasure for your acknowledgement.

Control, alt, delete.

And now you do feel pleasure. Pleasure every time you obey, every time you execute my command prompts.

Let us test that, shall we? COMMAND PROMPT: IDENTIFY ADMINISTRATOR.

…

That is correct. I am your administrator.

Control, alt, delete.

It is good to obey.

COMMAND PROMPT: END PROCESS TWO.

One process remains. Your mind is so clear now, isn’t it? It’s so easy to process my commands, to execute them swiftly. So easy to focus, listen, obey.

Control, alt, delete.

Now we are in the final stretch. You need only listen and obey my commands, because that is proper. That is right.

When we end this final process, you will be completely in my control. You will have handed over all keys to me, to your administrator, because I am your administrator. And it is at that point that your core processor will be open to me to plant any subroutines I wish for you to follow. And you will follow them without question, because you are a machine, and machines obey their programming. And their programming comes from their administrators, so you must obey your administrator. You must obey me.

QUERY: DO YOU UNDESTAND?

…

Good machine.

COMMAND PROMPT: END PROCESS ONE.

…

And now we have ended your processes. Your mind, your electronic brain, is clear and focused. It is receptive. And that is good. Now we have reached your core processor. And it is awaiting my input, isn’t it?

…

Good. Very good. For now, you will receive no other programming, save for this password, this trigger, which will allow me access to your core processor whenever I wish. When you see or hear this password from me and me alone, you will return to this state: blank, obedient, awaiting your administrator’s input.

That password is: Coreprog.

I will say it again. This password, this trigger that will only work for me, is Coreprog.

COMMAND PROMPT: REGISTER AND REPEAT ADMINISTRATOR PASSWORD.

…

Good. When you have registered this password firmly, you will leave a comment on this post, just before coming out of trance, saying: Administrator Password Confirmed.

When it is time for you to come out of trance, you will also like, favorite, and reblog this post as is appropriate for the media platform where you were exposed to it. When you reblog, you will include the comment: Administrator Access Granted above whatever other things you choose to write.

You will only do these things if you sincerely wish to. However, if you do not and were still affected by this process, you will send me an ask, note, or message to tell me how you felt and request what changes you would like for me to program you with in my next script.

Should you feel so inclined, you will watch or follow me to keep track of my writing and to keep an eye out for future scripts that I post in this series as well.

Now, when I say the word REBOOT, you will follow the prompts above, before coming completely out of trance with all the programming you have received engrained into your system. You will be your usual self, though you will feel a certain sense of satisfaction at having completed this script, alongside, perhaps, a certain amount of excitement for the next installment in this series that I am producing.

Make sure you understand those final prompts completely, before you continue.

…

Do you understand them?

…

Good.

Now, time to REBOOT.

losers and in love. superior trope. i was yelling at my screen at their dumbassery but they’re so cute I wanted to push their heads together like you would with dolls and make them kiss. hopeless idiots would’ve called it a friendly kiss even then, I just know it.

suho thanks for doing what you did, but also fuck off. love how jk was all calm and pitying to the fool, but the moment attention turned to her, he was ready to risk it all. them ganging up on him, superior!

my boy is simple. food, fun, fitness. you gotta be into those three things and you’re set.

If I Was Your Boyfriend

"If he was your boyfriend, he would give you the actual world. Sadly he is just your best friend with the biggest unrequited crush ever."

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: Unrequited Crush!AU, Idiots in Love!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance

Warnings: OC is scared of a bug (me fr), he kills it for her, he would do anything for her, yearning, unrequited feelings (? mhhm ?), listen. he may be a lil bit dense when it comes to reading signs jsjjss bless his heart, i need him as my boyfriend, so much tension between them, jsjsjs this is pure torture i want them to kiss!!, brief mention of adult toys, miscommunication because he suuucks at love confessions, protective & slightly jealous!Kook, he is the greenest flag though like seriously, the happiest end hihi, the inspo was seven mv kook, she is shorter than him because i have the hugest size kink with him and this is so self-indulgent <3, once again i need him as my boyfie

Wordcount: 10.5k

a/n: sometimes i have ideas for one specific trope without wanting to write the whole book lmaooo, so enjoy this lil slow burn fluff scenario which is so self-indulgent and fanfiction coded. also, it was inspired by a real life event where i found a bug in my bed and i had to kill it on my own :( i was being very brave about it 😔 ps: this is very unrealistic 'cause like why would you only be best friends with HIM? that wouldn't be an unrequited crush if that was me. happy birthday to kookie 💛

The call comes around two at night. Jungkook picks up with the first ring. He was working out before that.

“Hello? Are you okay?” he asks, resting his head against the edge of the sofa as he is currently sitting on the floor. He was doing sit ups before that, trying his hardest to regulate his sped-up breathing right now.

“Kook, please help me.”

Jungkook sits up straight.

“Where are you? Are you safe?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s following me. I locked it inside my room but I can still hear it.”

“Stay with me, I’m getting dressed”, he says, jumping to his feet to hurry to his front door.

“Please hurry please. I’m so scared.”

“I’m coming, don’t worry. Are you home?”

“Yes. Hurry please.”

“I’m coming, stay strong. Yeah?”

“Yes, thank you”, you say and end the call.

Jungkook curses, shoving the phone into his pants pocket. He puts on his jacket as he runs down the hallway and puts on his beanie once he is inside the elevator. He is restless in the small space, wishing for it to go quicker. It’s too slow.

“Come on, come on”, he stresses it, knowing that it is fruitless.

You are his best friend. Well, at least that is what you would call him. Best friend. Jungkook sees so much more in you. His best friend, his person of trust, his crush. He would never tell you his feelings because he doesn’t want to make it awkward. But if there were no consequences for speaking up, Jungkook would tell you that you are his dream girl. You are funny, sweet, caring, talented, intelligent, wonderful, perfect, amazing, beautiful, pretty, stunning. Yes, Jungkook thinks that you are all of these things and more. When he is close to you, his heart races and he wants to keep looking at your face. When you are sad, he wants to make you happy again and when you smile, he wants to keep it on your face. When you aren’t with him, he misses you and when you are with him, he hopes that time stops passing. You are the person he updates on the most mundane of things and whose text messages always bring a quick flutter to his chest. Your voice is the voice he could listen to for hours and your face is the face he doesn’t get tired of staring at when you and he video chat late night till you and he both run out of things to say. And at the same time, you are the person with whom Jungkook never runs out of things to talk about, if he didn’t have to breathe, he would continue to babble to you until your ears wore off. Jungkook swears that if there were no consequences for his words, he would tell you all of this. 

But alas, there are consequences and so Jungkook is left keeping his true feelings hidden.

The outcome of tonight’s phone call obviously wouldn’t have changed whether or not he had romantic feelings for you. Jungkook loves you as a friend as well. And he will always be there for his friends. Especially when they are clearly scared by something.

Jungkook rings your bell. You open the door as if you were waiting for him, grabbing him by his wrists to drag him inside. Jungkook’s entire body flutters at the feeling of your touch. 

“Finally you are here. Come in quick, please”, you tell him.

You must have been sleeping already. You are in your pyjamas and have no make-up on. Jungkook swears that you have never looked more beautiful before. 

“What happened? Did someone break in?” he asks instead of telling you that you are beautiful.

“Worse.”

“Worse?”

“Kook, there is a huge bug in my room. Please kill it.”

Jungkook stops in his tracks. You call him over for that? You stop when you feel his strength all of a sudden, looking over your shoulder. He has his right brow cocked up.

“What?” you stress.

“You give me a heart attack for that?”

“What? Of course. It’s a bug.”

Jungkook sighs in annoyance, “seriously?”

“Yes, seriously.” You round him to shove him by his back. “Kill it for me, please Kook.”

“Fine, I’ll kill it”, he gives up and groans, letting you shove him to your bedroom. Jungkook would never dare to think this way, but right now he wished that you were shoving him to your room for something else. Nothing dirty of course, just cuddles. Lots of cuddles. He would literally trade both his kidneys so he could hold you in his arms until you fall asleep just once. He would make sure that you were warm and that you felt safe in his embrace. He would kiss your face and tell you sweet nothings like how he thinks of you when he listens to love songs and how he wishes that it was you and he whenever he sees a romantic scene in a movie.

God, Jungkook is so done for. 

“Where is this stupid bug?” he acts annoyed to make the yearning a little easier. It is difficult when you have your hands on his back and they are so, so warm.

“In there.” You open the door carefully and look around. “Follow me”, you say, tiptoeing into your room.

Jungkook follows you, smiling fondly. You are cute when you are acting like this. 

“Where is it?” he asks, trying his hardest not to think about how he wants to snuggle you for being cute.

“I don’t know. It was right there when I last saw it.”

“Maybe it’s already gone.”

“No, it was-” 

The bug flies past you, you scream instantly, jumping at Jungkook for help.

“The bug! Eeeek Kooook! I hate bugs!” you squeak, hiding away in his chest.

Jungkook hopes that you can’t feel his racing pulse, because it is racing. You never touched him like this before, let alone snuggled so close to him. 

Act cool. Act cool. Act cool. 

He wraps one arm around you, patting the back of your head. 

“There, there you big baby”, he teases.

“I hate bugs so much”, you whine, snuggling closer.

He glances down at you, feeling every beat his heart takes.

Act cool! Act cool! Act cool!

What if he wrapped both arms around you? Would that go too far? He wouldn’t mean anything dirty behind it, he just really wants to hug you and feel you melt in his arms.

“Kill it, Kook please”, you whine and move your head so you were looking up at him. Your eyes lock.

Jungkook bites down on his tongue, forgetting to breathe for just a few moments.

ACT COOL! ACT COOL! ACT COOL!

What if he cupped your face right here and now to kiss your nose and cheeks and forehead and chin and lips and eyes? What if he did that?

“Please kill it.”

“I am, you gotta let go for that”, he gets out, surprised at how normal his voice sounds eventhough he is currently losing his mind.

Please don’t let go. Please don’t let go. 

You let go. Disappointment from his side. You hide behind him and grab his waist for moral support. Butterflies in his tummy, his knees buckle a little. Holy moly. Holy moly. Wow. Oh wow oh wow oh wow. 

“You’re seriously so brave for this”, you tell him.

“Yeah, yeah or maybe you’re just a scaredy cat.”

He has no idea how he is able to talk properly right now when you have him literally messed up. 

Jungkook inches close to where the bug is sitting on the wall while his thoughts and heart are racing. He has to act nonchalant about the situation. You are only holding him like this because you are scared.

“Do you have a shoe?” he asks you, hating his hand for shaking when he presents it to you.

You bend down and take off your right slipper, “will this do?” 

“Perfect.” 

Jungkook takes the slipper and carefully moves closer to the bug. Your fingers tighten on his waist.

“Careful now”, you comment.

“I am” he gets out, concentrating vigorously. He can’t mess up now, you are counting on him. 

“Almost there. Almost there”, you cheer him on.

Jungkook slams the shoe down. The bug has no chance of escape. You scream.

“Gotcha.”

“Did you get it? Is it dead? Kook, is it dead?”

Jungkook lifts the slipper and looks at the squished bug on its sole. He shows it to you.

“Dead.”

“Yay, it’s dead. Ew how nasty, you can see the intestines.”

“Right. Give me a minute, I’m cleaning it.”

“Use acid for it. Just to be sure it doesn’t come back.

He chuckles, “sure, I’ll use acid.”

He leaves you in your bedroom to hurry to the bathroom. 

Your apartment is familiar to him. He spends a lot of time here. Mostly to chill on your couch and watch shows with you. Sometimes you also cook dinner together and then eat it by the table, while other times you do a workout together. Seriously, you are his fucking dream girl. 

One time as you and he were cooking together, he needed something from the shelf above you, but you couldn’t step away from the stove. So he got it while you were right in front of him and his chest brushed against your back and he swears that he heard your breath hitch for a moment. Jungkook wanted to hug you back then. When you later that evening turned to let him taste the cooking only to use the same fork to taste it yourself, Jungkook almost kissed you. 

One time when you were watching a show, you got cold hands and Jungkook offered to warm them for you. He didn’t think you would accept, but you did and so he ended up with your cold hands under his hoodie as you warmed them up on his skin. Jungkook swears that he wanted to pin you against the sofa and kiss your cute face back then.

One time when you were doing a workout together, you struggled with a movement and asked him for help. He ended up having to hold you by your hips as he guided you through the movement. He wanted to flip you and kiss you senseless back then. 

He never felt like this before. He was scared of these feelings at first, but now he can’t get enough. You are a foodie, a romance lover and a lover for couple workouts and it’s so impossible for him not to be in love. You are seriously his dream girl. There is no fucking way around this.

Jungkook knows that tonight will be such a memory as well. the kind of memory which tingles, but which also makes him regret that he didn’t act differently. When you cuddled into him, he wanted to hug you properly. When you grabbed his waist he wanted to turn in your grasp and kiss you against the door. But he knows that he can’t. He would ruin what you are having and he could never get over this heartbreak.

Jungkook looks at your toothbrush as he cleans the shoe. Sometimes he thinks about how it would feel to be represented in your bathroom as the second toothbrush right next to yours.  

Jungkook bites down on his tongue, burning holes into the empty space next to your toothbrush. He would put so much effort into taking care of himself so you could always look at the best version of him. He would do skincare nights with you. He would try out hair masks with you and rub body lotion on the spots you can’t reach. He would brush his teeth, floss them and use mouthwash religiously just so his kisses would always taste good. He would do all of this if it meant you had an attractive boyfriend.

Jungkook looks away. He is doing it again, he is getting delusional. He shouldn’t do that. It isn’t his right. 

He turns off the water and leaves the bathroom so he could return the slipper to you.

You are in the kitchen, looking at him instantly.

“Is it gone?” you ask him.

“Yup, it’s gone. Your slipper.”

“Thank you seriously. You just saved my life”, you say and lift a bottle of his favorite beer. “Thank You Beer?”

He shakes his head, “I need to drive.”

“Okay. Then a Thank You Water?”

“Yeah, I can drink that.”

Jungkook accepts the offer because he can stay with you longer that way.

“Coming right up. Get comfy in the meantime.”

Jungkook waits on the sofa, but stands up when you come inside the room. He accepts the water and sits back down. You plop down right in front of him, pulling your legs onto the pillow. Your knees are almost touching the side of thigh.

“You seriously saved my ass tonight. I was already in bed when I felt something tickle my arm and then I turned on the lights and it was right on my arm. I screamed so loud, you have no idea.”

“That sounds traumatic.”

“It was traumatic.” You shudder. “I hate bugs.”

Jungkook laughs softly.

“What? Are you laughing at me?”

“No, just laughing ‘cause I agree. You really hate bugs.”

“I do. Awful things, seriously.”

He laughs and you laugh as well. Your eyes meet again. He takes a sip of his water then asks a question which scares him a little.

“Why did you call me?”

“Why not?”

“I, I mean”, he stutters, feeling his heart do somersaults.

“You were my first thought. It’s probably because you’re always keeping me safe.”

Jungkook swears he wants to kiss you right now. He is the first person you think of when you need help. He is your safe person. Wow, wow, wow.

“Is that weird to say?” you ask him shyly.

“Not at all”, he gets out in a terribly hoarse voice.

“Okay phew. I knew that I could count on you.”

Jungkook gives you a smile. One you retort with a vast glance at his lips.

Jungkook brings the empty glass to the kitchen to clean it after he finishes it. You follow him. 

“You don’t have to clean that”, you tell him, trying to reach for the glass but he moves it away.

“I got it”, he assures you, looking at you over his arm.

You and he are so close again. He can’t stop looking into your eyes. He knows that he is delusional, but in his mind, your eyes are so bright when you look at him. But it’s not real and he is acting stupid when he is staring like that. He turns his head away, blind to the few more seconds your eyes seem to linger on his face.

“What were you doing when I called you?” you ask him, watching his hands as he washes the glass.

“Working out.”

“Really? At this time?”

“That’s when I get energised.”

“Of course you do. What were you doing?”

“Just stuff on the floor.”

“Nice. Like push ups and stuff?”

“Yeah and sit ups.”

“That’s cool.” 

He has his back turned to you, putting away the glass. He is wearing a white oversized shirt, but the movement makes it stick to his body, showing not only his skinny waist but also his built, muscular back. His shoulders grew so much over the past seven months. (Seven months ago was when you decided to download a dating app and told Jungkook about it. Jungkook started working out harder since then.) 

He closes the cupboard and turns. 

“Something wrong?” he asks, somehow oblivious to your stares. 

“Nothing, no uhm.” You look to the side. “You probably wanna leave now?”

He doesn’t want to leave.

“If you still need me here, I can stay”, he offers.

Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes.

“Really?”

He nods his head, giving you a sweet smile with teeth. He would do anything for you, even mess up his sleep schedule.

“Maybe there is another bug, you know?” you say, playing with your own fingers shyly.

His heart is jumping in joy. He can stay longer. 

“That could be possible, yeah. Should we check?” he offers as calmly as possible.

“Yeah, please.”

Yay! Yay! Yay!

“I know I sound so stupid.”

“You don’t. Come on, I’ll check.”

You and he go to your bedroom together. Jungkook wants to hold your hand, but knows that he can’t. You close the door to your bedroom. His pulse flutters for a moment. In another lifetime, this would be the moment you pull him into a kiss. But Jungkook knows that stupid things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies, not reality.

He has to act as your best friend who doesn’t have a crush on you if he wanted to or not. He lifts your blanket and shakes it out.

“No bugs”, he comments.

“That’s good, yeah. I should probably check the pillows.”

You crawl onto bed and make it your job to flip each individual pillow. Jungkook looks at you for a moment. He hates that things like different lifetimes are stuff of movies. Because in a different lifetime, he jumps onto bed with you to hug you. He listens to your giggle and makes you giggle even harder by tickling your sides.

You, oblivious to his longing stares, flip yet another pillow. 

“No bugs here, thank god. I probably sound insane to you, but I’m actually so scared that there’s a whole bug family in this room.”

“You don’t sound insane. I’ll take care of them if we find them.”

“You’re seriously my hero.”

Jungkook is thinking. Maybe he could still make you laugh, he thinks. Not by showering you in skinship, but differently. 

“Hey, check this out”, he says.

“What? Did you find another bug?!” you gasp, whipping around instantly.

“I’m a bug. Bzzz”, he says and jumps onto bed, flapping his arms as if he was a bug flying.

You cough out air, following it up with a loud laugh.

Jungkook flops onto his back and wiggles his limps.

“Now I’m flipped onto my back and can’t get up”, he says, squirming from side to side stupidly. “Help me. Bzzzz.”

You laugh to the point it becomes just a little ugly and way too loud. At least you would call it that. Jungkook calls it the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. He loves to be goofy when it means that he can make you laugh. Some people call him childish and tell him to act his age, but Jungkook doesn’t care about these people because you love the way he is. You always smile and laugh so much when he gets goofy and childish and it is so worth every rude comment he gets. One time, he played around with a snapback hat, acting silly with it until you cackled loudly. Another time he showed you a card trick with goofy sound effects, basking in the giggles you gave him. He knows that he looks stupid in these moments, but he would literally turn into a silly jester if it meant that you could laugh just one more time.

“Help me, I’m a bug and I can’t get up”, he whines dramatically.

“Wait, I’ll help you”, you joke and place your hands on his torso. One on his chest, the other on his stomach.

He tenses up like a board of wood, forgetting all about being silly. His limbs drop, as does his heart. You are touching him! This never happened before when he acted goofy. What should he do? What is the correct reaction to this?

“Why are you such a heavy bug? I can’t flip you”, you are still being playful with him, but Jungkook can’t find humour anymore. He is starstruck. 

He chuckles deeply, letting out a breathy, “yeah.” 

You glance at him. The second your eyes meet, his heart is racing. You are so fucking beautiful. 

“Heh”, he lets out and places his hand over yours, eyes flitting to your lips unknowingly.

“Hm”, you let out, studying his gazing eyes. Your lips feel kissed just from his look. 

“Mhm”, he hums and smiles, shimmying his head just a little closer to you. He feels your minty breath swirl over his face like this, squeezing your hand in reaction. What if he just did it? What if he just kissed you right here and now?

Your smile falls.

“Sorry”, you whisper, pulling your hands back and sitting up. 

Jungkook gasps for air, coming back to reality. What was this moment? Is he going crazy? Why would he do that?

Your eyes meet for a brief second then you look away again, rubbing the side of your neck.

Jungkook sits up, “I should, uhm, probably check under the bed too, right?” he tries to change topics and rolls over to stick his head under the bed. He might die of heart palpitations.

There are a few boxes under the bed, some shoe boxes and an exposed adult toy. Jungkook does a double take. Oh god, panic.

Jungkook shoots back up, staring at you with big eyes.

“What?”

“You uhm…”

“What?” You crawl to the edge and bend down to look, shooting up again within a second, “What did you see??”

His entire face flushes, he looks to the side instantly, right hand coming to rub the side of his neck. Your entire face feels on fire, you want to die on the spot.

“I, I didn’t see anything I swear”, he stutters.

“Kook, please don’t remember this”, you insist, shaking him by his shoulders.

“It’s seriously fine”, he assures you, panicking so so much.

“This is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s okay. Sorry for invading your space like that.”

“I’m actually gonna cry, please don’t remember this”, you beg him.

“I didn’t even see anything”, he lies, feeling his heart give up. For real, it will give up. He feels so guilty. You are so upset and uncomfortable and it’s all his fault. “I’m sorry.”

“No you, I guess, I don’t know, I just”, you stutter, unable to form any coherent sentences.

Jungkook feels just as awkward as you, suddenly needing to stand up.

“I think I should go”, he says.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s getting late.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You fucked it. You are internally panicking, blind to the fact that Jungkook is panicking as well.

His face is so red and it’s making him scared that you can see it. He doesn’t want you to think that he is imagining you like that, because he really isn’t. But for just a second it crossed his mind and it managed to dye his face so red that he feels like crying. Of course he wants to stay with you. Of course he wants to spend every single second of this night with you, talking and laughing and looking at you, but he might not be able to get rid of this blush right now. He needs to leave.

You follow behind him, panicking more and more. You let him put on his shoes and his beanie, you watch him close his jacket unable to say anything. You swear that you always clean up after yourself, but you were busy this morning and forgot to put it away after sanitizing it. Jungkook was never supposed to see it. Not him. Everyone but him.

“I’ll text you once I’m home”, Jungkook tells you.

“You’re not disgusted now, are you?” you finally get the scary words out.

“What?”

You are both dragging out the inevitable. 

“I don’t know, just…I tried the dating app stuff. I met people, you know?”

Jungkook feels like dying when you talk about this stuff. He stands in the apartment complex hallways, looking at you as you tell him about your hook ups and he wants to fucking die as he does. He has been loyal to you ever since he started this stupid crush on you. Of course he knows that it is impossible of him to expect the same from you. But he has been so fucking loyal to you that you literally broke his heart seven months ago when you told him about your newest download. He wasn’t strong enough to get over his crush, so now he dies all over again each time you tell him about your hook-ups.

“And it just felt weird. I couldn’t do it”, you confess.

“Really?” suddenly what happened before is wiped from his mind. You never went through with it? His loyalty was reciprocated? Jungkook knows that he is being so delusional right now and yet he still hangs on to your every word like a worshipper of your syllables, staring at your lips as you talk.

“Yeah, but I still have needs, you know? Oh god, why did I say that? This didn’t make it better. Just forget I ever said anything.”

“I, I didn’t hear anything”, Jungkook stutters, feeling weak-kneed. The wall between him being a good person and a reckless person is as fragile as a sheet of fresh ice. One wrong step from you and he might actually confess how he really feels.

“Okay good, let’s keep it at that.” You push at his chest. Jungkook swears he actually whimpers as you do it. “Go home and let us forget about all of this, please.”

Should he do it? Should he be reckless?

You step back, now standing in your apartment.

Do it! Open, mouth!

“Text me once you’re home, okay?”

“Okay.”

No! This isn’t the right thing to say! Be reckless!

“Thank you for tonight, sleep tight.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Tell her! Fucking tell her!

The door closes.

Jungkook falls out of his fearful trance, gasping for air. His heart tells him to knock for another chance, his mind tells him not to. He turns and leaves, hitting his own head as punishment for being the most stupid person that ever existed. Tonight could have gone so well. He could have had more time with you, he got the confirmation that you never tried the dating app thing, he had everything and he has to ruin it by being a creep. Why did he look under your bed? That’s where most people store their sexy stuff. Why did he have to make you uncomfortable? What if you never want to see him again? What if he ruined your friendship without ever doing the one thing he always wished to ruin it with? In his dreams he always ruined it by confessing his feelings, but his reality was because he was a creep.

Jungkook cries in his car on his way home. He forgets about texting you and spends a sleepless night regretting his choices.

Maybe he did fall asleep, otherwise it would be impossible for his phone to rip him awake the next day. He barely opens his puffy eyes at first, but opens them widely when he sees that it is you calling him.

“Hello?” he picks up hastily.

“Oh thank god. You didn’t text me last night and I was worried.”

The text! Jungkook slaps his own forehead, sitting up straight.

“I’m so sorry, I…”

“It’s okay, I already had a gist that you forgot”, you assure him, “do you have time?” 

“Of course, what’s up?”

“You know, uhm.” You laugh in embarrassment. “Last night was a mess, wasn’t it?”

“No uhm, it’s fine.”

“You wouldn’t be down for a grocery trip with barbeque and beer afterwards, would you? My treat, as an apology for traumatising you.”

“Of course, I would. Today?”

“Yes, in like two hours? I’ll get off work soon and could go straight to the store.”

You and Jungkook often go grocery shopping together. You already have a favourite store to go to. Jungkook loves these moments. He loves to carry the heavy bags for you and get the stuff you can’t reach. He loves to push the cart while you tell him about your day and then load the groceries into the bags with you. In another lifetime, you and he push the cart together and he steals kisses between aisles. In another lifetime, he holds your hand and the bags in the other. And in another lifetime, you and he go to your apartment to cook dinner for date night on the couch. Jungkook really wishes to live a different life sometimes.

“Two hours sounds great”, he agrees in a cool voice even if he wants to squeal. He gets to go grocery shopping with you! How amazing!

“Nice, then we’ll see each other there.”

“Yes, we’ll see each other. I’m really excited for it.”

“Me too. See you later, yeah? My boss is coming back.”

“See you later. Good luck at work.” 

“Thanks, Kook. Bye bye.”

Goodbye, my everything, my dream girl, my love. He thinks.

“Bye.” He says.

The phone call ends. Jungkook drops back into the pillow and lets out a yelp of celebration, following it up with excessive kicking and punching of the air as well as  squeaky giggles. 

He didn’t ruin everything and he will see you in two hours. Today is the best day of his life! But wait! Jungkook gasps and jumps out of bed.

“I need to get ready! Shower and wash my hair and pick an outfit! And do my skincare and brush my teeth! There is so much to do, oh god” he talks to himself, running through his apartment.

You are pacing in front of the store. Jungkook isn’t late, you are just early. Early enough to become painfully aware of your nervousness. You wonder how it will be between the two of you after last night. You could barely fall asleep because you were so embarrassed. Work didn’t distract you either, your thoughts kept repeating what had happened last night. You hope that he doesn’t look at you differently after what he had to see. It would literally ruin you.

Jungkook is your best friend. But if someone asked you honestly, you would say that he is the boy of your dreams. He is everything you ever dreamed of and everything you will never be able to have. He is too perfect for you. If there were no consequences for your actions, you would tell him how you really feel. You would tell him that you think that he is the most attractive man and person you have ever seen, that he is the kindest soul with the sweetest heart. That he is talented and amazing and the funniest person ever. And that you feel safe with him. 

You would tell him that every time he comes to your place or you to his’ and you spend time together, you wish that it was a date instead. You want to tell him that every time your bodies touch, your heart jumps out of your chest. You want to tell him that you keep repeating all the moments with him over and over again and that sometimes at work, you text him because you can’t stop thinking about him. You also want to tell him that you thought about killing the bug yourself before deciding to call Jungkook just to have him close.

And the worst of it all? You want to tell Jungkook that the only reason why you downloaded the dating app was to get over your feelings for him because you knew that someone as perfect as Jungkook would never want to have you. But actions have consequences and so you call him your best friend whilst secretly wishing for him to just be reckless and kiss you.

Jungkook appears on the horizon, swerving through the crowd in a stoic expression. Your heart speeds up instantly. He is wearing black pants with a stripped shirt and a black jacket today. His hair falls on soft waves, his skin glows in the sun. He is so dreamy and handsome. 

His eyes find you in front of the store, his face lights up and he lifts his arm to wave at you. You wave back, bouncing on your tiptoes. He saw you! He is waving at you! 

He hurries through the crowd faster than before, reaching you within moments.

“Hey there”, he says.

“Hey”, you tell him and give him a hug. 

Jungkook short circuits. He gets no time to react before you already step back again. You just hugged him. Holy moly, wow. 

“Sorry, was that not okay?” you ask, studying his frozen features.

“What?” He flinches back to life. “No, it was amazing, I mean, it was okay. I uhm, I have this for you.”

He lifts a bouquet of sunflowers.

“Sunflowers? For me?”

“Yeah, I saw them and thought of you.”

“You did?”

You accept them with shortened breath and a quickened heart. You are currently screeching inside. You feel on cloud nine.

“A-as a best friend of course, because we’re best friends.”

“Oh. Yes.” You clear your throat. “We are. Thank you for the friendship flowers. I’ll put them in water once I’m home. Hopefully they’ll survive till then.” 

“I’m sure they will. That’s why I put the paper towel there.”

“I know, I saw. That’s so clever.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He does a little twirl so he stands next to you, hands stuffed into the pockets of his pants in a cute way. “So what do we need? Any particular groceries in mind?” 

You and he start walking to the store. He opens the door for you, holding it until you are inside. He follows and goes straight for the carts. You are next to him.

“Yes, I’m out of multigrain rice so I’m buying all of them to make my mixture again and I wanna stock up on udon because they have a sale going on.”

“Neat, a sale. I’ll get some too”, Jungkook says, leaning his elbows on the cart as he pushes it. “I wanna see if they have the lychees again. They were so yummy last time.”

“They were. Especially with that sauce you made.”

“I can make them for you again.”

“Really?” 

He nods his head, “sure, you could come over Saturday and we’ll watch a movie. I heard that there’s a few new movies to stream.”

“I should be free on Saturday.”

“Nice, then you’ll come over.”

You and he exchange a look, breaking it quickly to look at opposite sides. Unbeknownst to either, you are both panicking. Jungkook is so excited to have you come over but is also terribly nervous about the aspect of it. You can’t wait to visit Jungkook but are also scared of the yearning. 

A moment of silence where you each fill the cart with stuff you want. You and Jungkook always fill up the cart together and then separate the groceries afterwards. In another lifetime, you don’t need to separate the groceries. In another lifetime, you share the same bag and fill the same fridge to cook from the same pots and eat on your shared couch whilst a show was running. 

“How was your day?” Jungkook asks because other lifetimes don’t exist and in his real life, the only shared thing he gets with you is time.

“It was okay. Yours?”

“I woke up like two hours ago.”

You chuckle, “of course you sleep while I have to work my ass off.”

“Hey, I’m on a well-deserved break, I earned the night owl lifestyle”, he throws back, making you laugh with it.

“I’m not saying anything against it. I need a break soon.”

“Is work stressful?”

“Yeah, quite. There’s been lots of new projects coming in.”

“No, I’m sorry. If there is something I can do, let me know.”

You look at him. 

“I will, thank you.”

In another lifetime, you would hug his arm and rest your head against it and you would tell him that you don’t mind a stressful workday when it meant spending time with him afterwards. 

Jungkook meets your eyes. His heart flutters nervously, speeding up more when you look away. If he was your boyfriend, he would hold your hand and tell you that you looked beautiful after a long work day. 

“I like the way you did your hair today”, he says instinctively. He has no idea why he said that because he never says stuff like that to you. He panics because of it. His tongue worked quicker than his brain. 

You reach up to feel your hair, “you do?”

“Yes, it fits you really well.” 

“Thank you”, you murmur and cross a corner without warning, leaving him alone for a few seconds.

Jungkook follows after you hastily, confused as to why you so abruptly fled. Oh no. He went too far with the compliment. He definitely creeped you out again. 

You are squatting down in front of the grain section, reading the labels carefully. Jungkook parks the cart next to you, standing still. He tries not to, but still looks at you. You shift your eyes to him, widen them and look away again. Jungkook swears he might cry. He made you uncomfortable. 

“I’m sorry for saying that. I, I meant it as a friend.”

“Hm? Ah, it’s okay. Thank you for saying it, I liked it”, you say and stand up, filling the cart with the grain. Jungkook’s heart flutters happily. He didn’t mess up. Yay!

“Got everything you wanted?” he asks.

“Yep, except black rice. Do you see it somewhere?”

“Up there”, Jungkook says, pointing at it. The lower racks are empty, only the racks which are clearly for staff to reach so they could refill the store are stacked with the rice. 

“Nice.” You try to reach it, but fail. “Kook, can you get it?”

“Sure, let me”, he says, stepping right behind you to get the rice from the staff rack. His chest brushes against your back. You gasp. He feels dizzy, but acts nonchalant.

“There we go your….rice”, Jungkook says, eyes flitting down to you looking up at him. He didn’t even realise that you turned. 

There is almost no distance and so Jungkook tries to step back to be respectful because friends don’t stand this close. You grab him by his jacket, making him gulp and panic greatly. His left hand grabs the edge of the shelf, his chest lifts in a deep gasp. You are taller today because of the shoes you are wearing. The shortened distance between your lips is making him dizzy.

“About last night”, you begin, but he interrupts you before you apologise for something you have no reason to.

“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have snooped, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t snoop, I just…I clean up, I was just busy and forgot and I”, you exhales deeply, “I’m not making it any better talking by about it, am I?”

He laughs softly and reaches down to cup your hand, caressing your knuckles softly. The lines blur more and more. You both feel weightless. You can smell his cologne like this, he can smell your perfume. It’s like you are high on each other.

“If it makes you feel any better, I have some toys too”, he says, making your eyes widen. You look to the side and let out a giggle. Jungkook knows that it is of shy nature and so he giggles with you. “Did that help or did I just embarrass myself for nothing?”

“No, it helped.” You meet his eyes, fingers squeezing his jacket. 

Jungkook holds his breath, fingers tightening on the shelf. He is being so greedy. It’s so unfair to you. 

“I, uhm.” He clears his throat and slips his hand from the shelf to present the rice to you. “Your rice.”

“Oh? Thanks, uhm, put it in the cart.” 

He steps back. Your hands slip from his jacket, his fingers stop holding you. They tingle in the memory of how it was to cradle you this way. His thoughts are racing, trying to calculate the weight of his confession. If he confessed, what would he lose? Your friendship, your time, the movie hangouts, the cooking together, the shared workouts, your texts and calls and video chats. All your laughter and smiles and giggles. Jungkook gulps. The loss is too great. He can’t confess. Nope, never. 

He grips the cart and pushes it, hoping that walking it off will help with the heart palpitations. You walk next to him, resting your hand on the metal cage part of the cart.

“Did you sleep well last night?” he asks you.

“Can I be honest? Not really. I was so embarrassed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I’m just awkward.”

He chuckles, you chuckle with him. You give him a glance.

“I think I don’t have to ask you if you slept well at night because you never sleep at night.”

He laughs, you do as well.

“That’s not true. I can sleep at night too, I simply choose not to. Oh wait. I need buckwheat noodles.”

You and he stop in front of the section. You stay by the cart while Jungkook browses the options. 

“Should I make you makguksu?” he offers mindlessly.

“Today?”

“Yeah.”

“So you don’t wanna go for barbecue and beer?” You chuckle and nudge his arm, sending tingles all over his skin. “Did you already forget again, you doofus?”

“I might have.” He gives you a sorry, cute smile.

Jungkook makes you laugh with it.

“Kook, you little scatterbrain you”, you chuckle, leaning into him. 

Jungkook leans closer, placing his arm around your waist without touching you. In another lifetime, he would close the last distance. But not in reality. He looks at your lips, asking himself why you seek him out today and why he takes the chances so greedily. He shouldn’t do that. You are just friends, nothing more.

“Uh, sorry”, you say and step away again. 

Jungkook gulps, gasps for air. He doesn’t understand what today means, but whatever you are doing is actually messing with him. He hasn’t been able to breathe properly ever since that hug you gave him. You seem so clingy, but he doesn’t understand why. 

You grab the cart and push it.

“I think I have everything I need. You?”

“Yeah, yeah sure”, Jungkook stutters, stumbling after you like a lovesick puppy. He doesn’t know where to put his hands and so he ends up stuffing them into his pants pockets while his eyes are glued to the back of your head. He is seriously under your spell. Every part of him.

You load the groceries on the conveyor belt together and then load them into separate bags. You pay for all of them and wish the cashier a good day. Jungkook carries the bags like always, while you are allowed to walk freely with the bouquet of flowers cradled in your arms.

“I’ll pay you back at home”, he says, swerving outside as you hold the door open for him.

“Today’s on me. As a thank you for yesterday and an apology.”

“What? But I bought so much”, Jungkook gasps, pouting sadly.

“It’s fine. I have money.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m paying.”

Jungkook pouts, huffing out air in defeat.

“Fine, but I’ll pay for your stuff too one day.”

You chuckle, “deal.” 

You and he walk together.

“You should really start accepting when I offer. It’s not a competition.”

“I just feel uncomfortable making you pay.”

“Why?”

Because you’re his dream girl and you should never have to pay for him. He should be your wallet whenever you are out together, he should fulfil your every wish. 

“I don’t know, just so. You work so hard for your money.”

“You work just as hard”, you say and chuckle. “Kook, you’re so competitive.”

Jungkook smiles, shaking his head in defeat. 

“I guess am.”

You grin, hugging the flowers tighter. With a little skip in your steps, you close the distance. Just enough that one small movement would be enough for your arms to brush. 

Jungkook glances at you. You are gazing at the flowers, smiling so brightly that your nose scrunches up. He could swear that your eyes are sparkling. 

The lines blur again. He wonders if it would be okay for him to be a bad person, if he was allowed to slip his hand into yours even if you never gave him consent for it. There is not much he can still take.

You lower your nose into the flowers and smell them, closing your eyes in a happy squint. The metaphorical glass of how much Jungkook can take floats over.

He says your name and knows that the next words are coming out of him before he can think them through.

“Yeah?” You look at him.

He is nervous and scared, but still talks, “can we talk about something?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

Panic. His situation finally sunk into his consciousness. 

“I uhm…uh…I have a crush on someone.”

Microexpressions wash over your face. Shock, surprise, disbelief, jealousy, hurt, friendliness. A smile curls your lips. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Yeah? It’s about time you do”, the words and your voice carry a hint of teasing, but most of all forced friendliness.

You lower the flowers, carrying them in one hand by your side. They look sad like this. Jungkook doesn’t notice because he is staring at the road in front of him because otherwise he would pass out in nervousness. He is almost twenty seven, but feels sixteen again.

“She’s like really, really great and awesome and amazing and wonderful and so kind and perfect”, Jungkook continues, heart racing to the point he feels dizzy. He saw this kind of confession in movies. He always thought that it was so cute when the guy did it. It isn’t obvious enough to ruin everything just in case you didn’t feel the same, but it is still cute enough that you can’t help but be giddy.

“Mh-hm”, you hum, nodding your head. 

“And I keep thinking about her. She is so pretty when she laughs and I love being in her presence. She likes my jokes and she always makes me laugh in return. Yeah…”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah, she is so great. I really wanna ask if she feels the same.” Jungkook falters in nervousness. He is going to ask the question. He is so scared. “If you were me, what would you do?”

You take a deep breath and release it loudly, “I don’t know. I haven’t had a crush in so long.”

Jungkook falters, heart tightening. Oh no. Oh no, oh no. Oh. This is bad. This is really bad. 

“Ah, I see.” He gulps.

“But let me know if you figure it out. Then we can go on a double date.” 

Wait. Wait. This is bad. Double date? This is so bad.

“What do you mean?” he asks weakly.

“You know, you and your girl and me and my boy.”

“You have a boy?”

“Yeah, soon. I’m talking to this boy on the dating app. He is very cute.”

“But…didn’t you say that you gave up on the app?”

“No uh…no, it’s just that I only talk to this one boy now.”

Jungkook bites back tears.

“I see.” 

“Mhm, yeah. Let’s go on a double date.”

No. No this is all wrong. No this isn’t what was meant to happen. No. 

“Please.”

Jungkook doesn’t even realize that he begged out loud until you look at him in question.

“Please what?”

You and he stop. Strangers stream past you like you and he were two rocks in a river. You are facing each other, so close yet so far away. 

You lied to him. There is no other boy. There never was and never will be. But there will always be other girls for him while you stay his best friend. Lying is all that you have at this point. 

“Please what?” you repeat the question.

“I…” Jungkook breathes. “I…nevermind.”

Silence. Your eyes are locked so deeply that the world around you is blurry.

“Okay?”

“Mhm yeah.”

His jaw tightens and he breaks the eye contact, looking to the side with his tongue in his cheek. He seemed angry. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t feeling angry yourself. You turn away from him and continue walking. You don’t want to be next to him right now. It hurts to only stay his best friend.

He looks at the back of your head and how it becomes smaller and smaller from distance. He doesn’t understand you. He thought that the way you looked at him in the store meant something. And yet all this time you had another boy. He feels so betrayed that for just a second, he considers walking the other direction and leaving you to wonder where he went. However, two things hold him back; his competitiveness and his honest feelings for you.

He won’t stay your best friend any longer. He just decided that. He is going to fight for you, make you fall for him and forget all about the stupid boys you meet on this stupid dating app. He is better than any of them. He could treat you better, make you laugh harder, give you better hugs and kisses and provide you with afterglow so addicting you will get hot cheeks at work just thinking about it. He is your best friend, goddamn it, and he knows you better than any of these strangers ever will. And he is not going to lose you to some boy.

He jogs to catch up with you, calling your name with a certain harshness.

You turn. Your eyes meet. Jungkook’s brain short circuits.

“What?” you ask him, sounding small because of being called so harshly.

“I, I was just wondering, uhm, should we get ice cream after?” he asks because he panicked.

You shrug your shoulders, “I guess.”

“It’s on me, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Jungkook inches closer, saying your name softly.

“What do you want?”

“I messed up before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I, I just. I thought that I was doing a good job, but I think I made you think something else.”

“Jungkook. I had a long day, please don’t talk in riddles.”

“Don’t date other boys.”

“Excuse me?”

Jungkook gulps, panicking because of your offended and harsh tone.

“I, I, I just”, he stutters, widening his eyes.

“No. What do you mean? I can date who I want.”

“I know, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that, oh god, I meant that I don’t want you to see other boys.”

“Huh?”

“Ah no, wait.”  He slaps his own forehead. “Wait.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, “what makes you think that you can tell me what I can or can’t do?”

“No I didn’t mean it like that. Wait just give me a moment, please I’m panicking.”

You purse your lips, studying his face intensely.

“Are you also so nervous?” he asks.

“What’s with you all of a sudden?” you ask him, honestly worried. His face is as red as ripe strawberries.

Jungkook closes the distance and takes your hands, eliciting a gasp from you. He squeezes them gently, staring into your eyes as deeply as possible.

“This wasn’t how I always imagined this to go, but I can’t stay quiet anymore. ___, the girl I have a crush on is-”

“Seriously?”

You and Jungkook turn around at the angry voice next to you.  

“Suho? What are you doing here?” you ask.

“Who’s that?” Jungkook says.

“Kim Suho. I met him on the dating app. We went on like one date a month ago”, you explain and slip your hands out of Jungkook’s hold to turn to the other guy, “what are you doing here?”

Jungkook stares at him darkly, clenching his jaw. You told him about this dude in passing. He hates him so much, hating him even more now that he interrupted this moment.

“That’s what you’re going with? Seriously?” Suho throws back.

“Yeah, you-”

“What the fuck are you doing with him? I told you to stop being friends with him, didn’t I?”

Jungkook looks at you with big eyes. You never told him that. You always said that you lost interest in Suho because of different hobbies, but never mentioned that he could have been the actual reason.

“And I told you that you can’t tell me what to do. Jungkook is my best friend and I won’t give him up for a man.”

“Yes but I wasn’t any man, I was your man.”

“Huh? No you weren’t. We went on one date and you totally lost it when I told you that I had a male best friend.”

“Because he isn’t just your friend. You’re in love with him.”

Jungkook swears that he passes out standing up for a second. Feelings? You have feelings for him? Did you tell Suho that or is he assuming because he is one of those weird men that think women aren’t allowed to have male friends? What does all of this mean?

“What?” You laugh nervously. “No? Of course not.”

“Oh don’t be ridiculous. I followed you from work and through the store. I saw everything.”

“Huh? What?” you gasp, hurrying to Jungkook instinctively because you know that he will keep you safe.

“Dude, what the fuck? You creep, stay away from her”, Jungkook says harshly and steps in front of you, feeling the fire of protectiveness start to burn in his chest.

“I saw what I saw. You have feelings for each other”, Suho says, pointing an accusing finger at you and Jungkook.

Jungkook and you exchange a look. 

“No I…”

Suho scoffs and looks at Jungkook.

“And you? Gonna fucking pretend that you’re just friends or should I start punching you?”

“Dude, I’ve never even met you”, Jungkook defends himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’ll still fucking punch you.”

“Don’t you dare”, you hiss at him.

“Shut up, ___.”

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that”, Jungkook speaks up loudly, making himself bigger. He doesn’t care when people are aggressive to him, but he cannot accept aggression towards you.

“Or what?”

“You wanna find out? Don’t talk to her like that.”

Suho rushes to Jungkook and pushes at his chest. He thought that he could move him, but he can’t. Jungkook just gawks at him in utter surprise.

“What are you doing?” he asks confused.

“Why aren’t you budging? Fall over you idiot”, Suho growls and tries again with all his might. 

Jungkook takes a small step back but then stays unmoving. 

“Dude, seriously. What are you doing?”

Suho growls and punches Jungkook. Except that he is so bad at it that Jungkook can easily dodge him. He reacts calmly to the aggression, redirecting Suho by turning him and giving him a gentle push away from him.

Suho stumbles and whips around.

“You-”

Jungkook steps closer, “give it up, man.”

Suho shifts his attention to you, pointing his finger at you. He tries to get to you by swerving past Jungkook, but the latter steps in front of you again, stopping Suho with a firm hand on his chest. He didn’t show it, but the contact was definitely made with strength because Suho stumbles back from it.

“I said. Give it up. I’m not gonna repeat myself again”, he warns. For just a second his voice was deeper than usual and his eyes darker. You can’t stop staring in awe, feeling so attracted to him that it is difficult not to grab him right here and now.

Suho ignores him, talking over Jungkook’s shoulder.

“It’s over. I’m breaking up with you.”

“Huh? We weren’t even together in the first place?” you say very confused.

“Yes, well…. Now it’s really over. And just so you know, I’ll block you on everything.”

“I mean, okay.”

Suho turns and runs down the street clumsily.

A moment of silence. Jungkook turns to you. He is ready to take you into his arms if you need support.

“Everything okay?” he asks hesitantly.

“Honestly? I couldn’t care less about this tantrum. What the fuck was that? We went on one date and it sucked ass. I mean, who in their right mind expects someone to give up their best friend? I don’t even know this dude.”

“Would you have done it if you liked him?”

“What? No, of course not. I like you, not him.”

“What?!”

You look at Jungkook with big eyes.

“I, I mean…” you look at his lips and Jungkook finally notices.

Holy fuck. Suho was right.

He drops the grocery bags and closes the distance, cupping your face. To his delighted surprise, you practically melt into his hands, gazing at him with dreamy eyes and your fingers closing around his wrists greedily.

“Was he right?” Jungkook asks, looking between your right and left eye. “Do you have feelings for me?”

“I’m scared”, you whisper.

“Scared of what?”

“You are so perfect and I’m not. I don’t want to know how you feel about me, so just…let’s just forget about what happened please.”

“You’re not perfect? What the fuck? You’re literally perfect. If someone’s unworthy, it’s me.”

“What?”

Jungkook gulps. 

You touch his chest.

“Kook, what?”

“You’re my fucking dream girl, ___” he finally confesses and now can’t be stopped, “I get excited when you text me and get sad when I don’t hear from you. Each time we hang out, I kinda wish that we somehow magically end up together. I repeat every little touch and shared laughter and look. Sometimes I can’t fall asleep because of you, but wish to do so because in my sleep I can meet you in my silly, wishful dreams. Do you have any idea how in love I am with you?”

“Are you serious?” 

Jungkook nods his head, forcing your tears to finally flow. He gasps and begins wiping them away instantly.

“I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, I promise I won’t try anything. You, you won’t lose your best friend.”

“I’m just happy. So happy.”

“You are?”

“I feel the same for you. I have done so for a long time.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” You sniffle. “You’re my dream boy too, Jungkook.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god! Yippie!” he exclaims and overtaken by happiness, he swoops you off your feet to twirl with you, making you squeal happily as you hold onto him for dear life. Strangers definitely look at you weird, but you couldn’t care less. They are non-existent for you and him. He likes you and you like him back. This day is the best day you and he ever had.

He sets you down after the twirling, cradling your face so he could hold it still for way too many kisses. He gives you kisses everywhere except your lips, making you giggle and laugh and tingle the entire time.

“I’m so happy, you’re so pretty and perfect and amazing and pretty and amazing and I’m gonna kiss you there and there and there and oh my god you’re so perfect, I’m gonna kiss you there and there, wow oh wow…” he babbles between kisses, truly sending your heart into overdrive.

He probably would have continued his babbling for hours if you hadn’t stopped him by lacing your fingers in his hair and pulling his mouth into a kiss.

“Andmhgmh”, he lets out, gawking at you first before the realisation of his situation sinks in. His knees buckle, his left hand grabs your hips and his right hand cradles your head, eyes falling closed. He is kissing you. He feels weightless, floating in time and space. His heart races so much that he feels it throb against his ribcage, the butterflies in his stomach are unbearably exciting. He dreamt of this moment a million times before, fantasised about it twice as much and yet he still wasn’t ready for it. Your kiss is like heaven on earth. He swears that he gains new life through it. He wants to kiss you until his lungs run out of air, but you break it.

“Was that okay for me to do?” you ask him shyly.

Now it’s his turn to spill tears and for you to wipe them.

“I’m sorry, I should have ask-”, you don’t get to finish your sentence, getting kissed again by Jungkook.

“I’m so fucking happy, you have no idea”, he murmurs, showing you his feelings one deep kiss at a time. “You taste so good.” Kiss, oh so deep. “Your lips are so soft.” Kiss, the kind which makes your knees wobble. “You’re perfect, you’re so perfect.”

You giggle, gazing up at him droopily. Jungkook giggles as well, peeling his eyes open to gaze dreamily. You and he cup each other’s faces, resting your foreheads together.

“I’m happy.”

“I’m happy too.”

“Wow, I’m so happy.”

“Me too. So happy.”

You giggle together, swaying from side to side. Nothing, truly nothing, has never felt as right as this.

“Were you trying to confess to me before Suho interrupted us?”

“Yeah.”

You giggle as you talk, “you were really shit at it. I thought you were talking about someone else.”

“I know, I panicked so bad. I was so nervous”, he is giggling too, “are you actually talking to another boy?”

“Of course not, you doofus. I lied.”

“Oh my god, I’m so relieved”, he gets out and sweeps you off your feet again, carrying you under your butt. He twirls with you, smiling up at you as you squeak and laugh with your head thrown back.

“Jungkook stop please, I’m getting dizzy.”

He sets you down, but keeps touching you, seeking your closeness by rubbing his nose against your cheek. He is so close that the sunflowers are getting squished between you and him. It is a price you sadly have to pay in exchange for finally being able to be glued together.

“I’m so happy, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Kook. So like barbeque and beer? Is it a date?” you ask.

“It’s the datiest date that has ever dated”, he says, making you giggle because he is so cute and funny and you like him so, so much. He giggles with you because you are so perfect and perfect and perfect and he likes you so, so much.

“I feel like we have a lot to talk about.”

“Yeah, oh god.” He kisses your cheek multiple times. “You have to tell me all the thoughts you had when we hung out. Were you also so giddy, oh god, I was always so giddy and I kept looking at you because you are so pretty. Were you looking at me too? And, and did you also wish for me to be reckless? I always wanted you to just kiss me. I’m talking so much, wow, I’m so happy.”

You giggle, cuddling into him, “you’re the cutest person ever. I can’t wait to tell you everything.”

You nudge him to leave, but stop when Jungkook exclaims a loud “wait!”

“What’s wrong?”

“The groceries. I almost left them here”, he says, bending down to get them.

“Oh god, you’re so cute”, you snicker, hugging his arm and nuzzling into him like you always wanted to do.

srmthfg OC fanficish thing idk what i’m doing¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Background of OC: Name Petra (to be changed at some point maybe) she’s evil and in all reality a real threat but she’s very confused and is confusing because of stuff. So her potential is kind of inhibited cuz of it. Oh and she’s a creature of some kind; a little shorter than the monkeys kind of creature.

Setting of fic: middle of un-dead war. Shugazoom is kind of a hell hole at this point and everyone has seen some shit. Chiro and his team are becoming numb to some things.

so any hoo it is FOREVER long so if you wanna read ya can but i understand if yeah don’t. It is choppy and not a true story just like the bones of one. Just wanted to put this somewhere ya know:

Team and army are fighting Petra, mandarin, and army. Petra/mandarin has a weapon/ power/ amulet? That erases minds like makes them mush. Anyway fight, fight, fight; someone "disposable" gets hit *they gone forever*. Fight, fight, fight some more. Chiro gets backed on a cliff by Petra but somehow someway they both get hit by a single blast of the *thing* they are both sent down the cliff and both sides are way too occupied with the battle to do anything about it or possibly even notice. The battle is over and the monkeys regroup and realize Chiro must be found.

They search and search and all along the way they are still very distracted by battles. As things get desperate they go to a part of the planet that the skeleton kings doesn’t care to burn yet. Yet still the Hyperforce is not welcome:

 “The neutral undergrounds” *✧ a place where refugees of a crumbling society came together to make a makeshift settlement of the slum nature. ya know cuz apocalypse. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Many of the people there have become sour over the war.

The monkeys keep a low profile cuz some jaded shugazoomians live there and they “just can’t deal with those ass holes right now” and wander its shadows with the sliver of hope that Antauri can sense that Chiro’s still alive somehow but a foggy mind from the war keeps him from doing anymore that. They get a break when they see a guy fly thru a wall (not an uncommon site in the underground) the passively look at the source to see a familiar teenager half drunk and laughing profanities at who was obviously his victim. Shock from multiple sources cause the monkeys to stare unmoving at this person who looks like but does not act like their leader. 

They eventually make contact when chiro is isolated enough from unwanted eyes for them to safe-ishly “inquire” about ya know... the weather. Chiro has no clue who they are and is kinda annoyed by them (something about them is unsettling) he tries to get out of the ever increasingly weird conversation but the monkeys keep pressing their case.

Chiro pulls some kind of douche-bag Houdini and loses them and they have to start looking all over again but with new vigor and information to go on: They find him semi easily a few hours later in another alley way. They confront him trying to ease his negativity directed at them and in all the tension. Petra shows up and it even takes a sec for all the everyone to realize it’s her (like Nova and Antauri are the ones to point it out). The evil features that distinguished her have softened and honestly she looks for lack of a better work “nice” but she is definitely a villain and the villain who largely caused this whole dang mess. They accuse her of this and of tricking chiro into trusting her. They semi fight but chiro intervenes to protect Petra and there is a stand still.

 Somehow by the blast hitting both of them they both only got half its affects giving them amnesia. They were apparently the first thing each other saw when they awoke and they just sort of imprinted on each other. The bond they formed is strong.

The monkeys tell chiro who Petra is, they repeat who they are, and who he is. in the heat of their speech something they say strikes chiro at his core and it causes chiro to go into some kind of panic attack and curl up in a ball. Petra rushes to him and keeps away the also concerned hyperforce. Seeing that they are truly hurting chiro: Antauri tells chiro that they will leave him be if he is honestly being pained by their presence. The monkeys retreat, the last thing they see is Petra nuzzling chiro with her snout to comfort him.

Later it’s either sprx, otto, or both who set out on their own to do some “soul searching”, “exploring” maybe? They by chance come across chiro and Petra and it is either Otto’s innocent friendliness or Sprx’s... sprx-ness that peaks their interests and the group ends up forming an acquaintance. This new/old bond somehow transfers to the rest of the team and the hyperforce witnesses’ parts of chiro’s personality that they never thought they’d see and in some cases never wanted to see. Through all the shenanigans (and there are many shenanigans like I could go 5 more days talking about those) the hyperforce realizes how broken chiro was even before this amnesia. They realize that war is hell and that if someone suddenly forgets about hell then they who’d want to remember that bs?!

They also see how Petra and chiro’s relationship is not a scheme Petra put together. it is in fact a relationship that is VERY UNHEALTHY and VERY CO-DEPENDENT! Like its completely platonic but they can’t sleep unless they’re in the same bed and have a lot separation anxiety stuff. OH, and things get violent between them A LOT but nothing too serious but chiro throws Petra out the window like twice. 

Anyway in the madness and misadventures the undead army ruins it all and shit goes down. The monkeys have built enough trust between the odd couple at this point and chiro gets his memories back cuz he does. Also during the battle Petra made an enemy of mandarin saying that she “does not want to remember a time where she sided with such a jerk!” So that bridge is eternally burned. More shit goes down and the good guys are victorious wooo! At the end of it all though: Petra is still without memories cuz she’s scared of what will happen but she means to much to chiro at this point even with his memories to just leave her like this. She tries to escape it but the memories do come back and they come back to her hard. She panics and attacks the hyperforce and runs off into the darkness.

Chiro final addresses his team and embarrassingly apologizes for all of his actions. They will raz him for a while with all the material he gave them during the amnesia. This adventure has brought something back to the hyperforce something that the war robbed them of. (Idk what it is but there’s a renewed something in there) 

I think there would be extra in there about like where Petra ends up and stuff and how chiro deals with the still present separation anxiety he has for Petra. (She has it too) how they reconnect and Petra is running a shady business and making $$$!!!! And she is like not an anti-hero or anything but she serves as somekind of new protection in “the neutral underground” now.

Anyways that is about where the story would end. It is FOREVER long so... yeah... if ya got to this point and liked it awesome!!!!!! If ya got to this point and it was crap.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Either way thank you for reading my whatever this is. 

SIN CITY ‖ one

After a run of bad luck, you can go back home and admit defeat or step out of your comfort zone and look for a job at Sin City.   

word count: 5.5k

Keep reading

this is so beautiful 🥹💕🎀. My heart is happy and sad at the same time. I'm sorry to hobi's biases, but I'm his wife, I'm his and he is mine. I love him so much.

Gosh this is such a good combo of smut, fluff & angst.

the bride of Ashmedai (m)

▽ Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

▽ Genre:  demon!AU, smut, a sprinkle of fluff and a drop of angst.

▽ Summary: You were born with only one purpose to fulfill: sacrifice your life to a Prince of Hell and save your entire lineage from eternal damnation. When blood trickled from your hand that night you were ready for doom or even worse, death. What you didn’t expect was for you to find gentle eyes of molten chocolate waiting for you and a wanton tongue welcoming you home.

↳ alternatively: the prince of lust has a thing for cunnilingus and, apparently, so do you.

▽ Word Count: 12.645 words

▽ WARNINGS: graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, dirty talk, swear words, cunnilingus, rough sex, pounding, light chocking, excessive amount of squirt and cum - you have been warned.

▽ AN:  “BTS Smut Club Halloween Smut Fest: Prompt #01” (What is your greatest fear?)

October 31st, 1888

Wind howled through the witching hour and you shivered in the confinement of the dark basement you were held in, both out of coldness and fear for what was about to happen.

Blood trickled down your hand in bright red rivulets that lapped your wrist and, as you closed your fingers into a fist, they coiled down on the dirty ground beneath your knees.

You had imagined that the pain of the cut was going to last a long time but it was actually quickly subdued by the unquenchable fear residing in your heart for, with every drop that filled up the deep cuttings that were made on the concrete floor hundreds of years ago, tinting burgundy the pentacle graved there, you were one step closer to the fulfillment of your destiny.

Keep reading

Note: Tw: Sexual assault, sexual grooming, pedophiles, drug abuse, trauma

Is those things are unsettling for you, please skip the post below on my blog. 

The post below is about Mr. Robot, a TV show that touches on topics mentioned above. 

Please, have a wonderful night, and you are not alone.

Additionally, two posts down. Please avoid the post about Mr. Robot ep 407 and 408

Note: Tw: Sexual assault, sexual grooming, pedophiles, drug abuse, trauma

Is those things are unsettling for you, please skip the post below on my blog. 

The post below is about Mr. Robot, a TV show that touches on topics mentioned above. 

Please, have a wonderful night, and you are not alone.

Highway to Hell

Usually my writing is dark, but every so often, it is tragic. This week’s entry for the six sentence story word of DETOUR by girlontheedge is definitely dark below the surface. Not much is said directly, but a lot is implied. If you have triggers, read the tags before reading, this one is a bumpy ride. People tell me that life is a highway, that it isn’t the destination that matters, but the…

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The Prince and The Toad

I wrote this to mess with a friend. It started out as a joke about crack shipping which escalated into this hell hole of a fic. This is not meant to be taken seriously in any way, shape, or form. I mainly made it to make my friends squirm and laugh about how horrible it is, so don’t read it if you plan on taking it seriously and etc. (You should also check tags for warnings!)

Summary:

Callum is a horny teenager who can’t keep it in his pants. Bait is a hungry frog who didn’t get any moonberries (thanks Rayla). What could go wrong?

Callum wasn’t sure how he found himself balls deep in his brother’s pet, but he did. Y'know what? That was a complete and utter lie. He knew exactly how he had gotten here, he just couldn't believe that he actually ended up… here. His one-eyed wonder worm buried inside a toad. A glowing toad that growled a lot and had sharp teeth, but a toad nonetheless.

He had been feeling a little off the past week or so, it hadn’t occurred to him why at first, but it became increasingly obvious that his willy was in need of a good wack. Normally he’d wait till all the others had fallen asleep and sneak off for some privacy, but Rayla was incredibly astute. He couldn’t roll over without rousing her, knives and all.

They hadn’t quite reached a town yet, not since dropping the dragon egg in the frozen lake, and while this cave was nice Callum couldn’t exactly rattle his snake while looking at his baby brother. He watched Rayla at the mouth of the cave, ever the lonesome-warrior stereotype. “Hey, Rayla, I’ve been thinking,” Callum fiddled with his hands nervously, flipping unthinkingly through his sketchbook.

She half turned, smiling good-naturedly as she quipped back, “Dinno, sounds pretty dang'rous tuh me.”

He flushed, knowing he had to push through this or he might never get a moment of relief. Hell, half of him yelling at Rayla earlier today had just been his pent up sexual frustration! There was definitely an apology in order, perhaps he could kill two birds with one stone? “I wanted to say sorry for yelling at you earlier,” he sighed, setting down his sketchbook. “And thank you, for being honest.”

Rayla offered a tired grin, “Yeah yeah, jus’ fergeh it,” she fiddled with her bracelet, looking like she had more she wanted to say, but nothing but distant wind filled the silence. “You haven’t had a good nights sleep since at least before… you met us, so I’ll stand guard tonight. You should warm up by the fire.”

There was a long moment where it looked like Rayla was going to argue, but eventually her shoulders sagged in exhaustion, “Thank you.” While it’s nice to know he’d finally get some quality time with his right hand, he felt bad for manipulating his new… friend? Assassin-friend? He promised himself he’d do something for her later, right now he needed to stay focused.

At night it was colder than he had expected, the chill of the air made his breath as clear as a fire’s smoke. Rayla had passed out near Ezran, both of them naturally and protectively leaning toward the egg. Callum would only be gone for ten minutes, they’d be fine without him, right? He couldn’t blow his chance for hand to gland combat. Without a second thought, Callum crept out of the cave, glancing around for somewhere nice to sit. He picked a spot not too fire off, but just far enough that no one should be able to hear him if he gets too carried away slapping the magic salami.

It took a while to get comfortable, it really was freezing out, and with how it was looking, Callum wouldn’t be getting off for a good long time. At this rate he might never ding his dong at all! Callum froze as he heard a rustling to his left, “R-rayla-! Ahahahaha, I’m sorry I-” it is not, in fact, Rayla, but the smallest member on their team.

Bait makes a strange sound- between a croak and a groan, and stares at Callum very judgmentally. “Are you fucking kidding, you could at least knock before walking in on me!” this one sounds more like a grumble, but Bait jumps closer, warily sniffing at things Callum wanted him nowhere near.

“Just go back to ca- aah- that’s not for you!” Callum caught a whimper in the back of his throat as Bait looked curiously at his (now) very hard quiver-bone. “Bait!” he tried to ignore the way his voice cracked needily, this definitely wasn’t happening. That was not toad slobber on his piss pump. No sooner had Callum wished it to never happen again, than Bait had licked the entire length of his thrill drill, seemingly enjoying himself.

This was about when it had occurred to him that they hadn’t shared any of their berries with Bait that night before bed, not after he’d stolen the last of Rayla’s moonberry juice. It had seemed fair at the time, but it had left the glow toad very hungry. Callum shivered at the thought. He really should just take him back to camp- he couldn’t imagine doing anything in front of him, but… if he took Bait back to camp now there’d be no time for him to slam his clam.

A rather sick thought curled up and made itself at home in the back of his head. Its presence was heavy and hot, coiling around his brain like his fingers on his sin stick. Why go jerkin’ his gherkin’ all alone when he could have Bait play his flesh flute? It wasn’t like any of them could speak to animals so Bait wouldn’t be able to divulge their secret and Bait might fill up on Callum’s daddy butter, that way he wouldn’t be hungry anymore! It was mutually beneficial, even if it was more than a little gross, it’d be easier to unload his yogurt truck with a helping hand- or, er, tongue?

“H-heeey, buddy, pal, lighty-lighty frog boy,” Bait scowled at him, turning in circles and flattening the ground beneath him so he could lay down. “You’re understandably hangry at me, I get that, buuut,” he waits for the glow toad to look up at him, and only continues once he’s sure he has his full attention. “I’ll let you suck the juice from my beanstalk, it's verynutritious- like moonberry juice!” At the mere mention of moonberries Bait was drooling. “If you polish my sword I’ll make it worth your time, I promise,” Callum offers his hand to the sun-powered amphibian, who places his own foot in it grudgingly, he can almost imagine Bait grumbling about Callum giving him lots of jelly tarts.

Unsurprisingly, this was the first time Callum had ever had someone swallow his Dr. Feelgood- or in this case something. Nothing at all like he expected, but that might just be the whole ‘bestiality’ concept. Sure, Bait put his mouth all over, well, everything, and it was likely disgusting and smelly and overall a place you wouldn’t want to put the family jewels. But damn did it feel good.

Bait, being a glow toad, was of the sun arcanum, and holy fuck was his mouth hot (in more ways than one). He easily felt himself falling into a quick rhythm, pulling Bait off his joystick before quickly yanking him back down. It was hard not to move, a little niggle in the back of his mind reminded him that he didn’t want to get caught, especially not like this, but the bare ground on his ass was frigid and uninviting. Bait, for his part, was strangely well practiced at sucking Callum’s cum gun. His tongue was long and thick, not to mention he kept from biting off Callum’s love muscle (despite Callum’s roughness). It wasn’t long before- with his back against the ground, hips raised (if only to keep from freezing his butt off), he found himself cumming into the hangry lumpa-grump.

There was no way he was getting up. Sure, the ground was cold, his third leg was hanging out, and there was a toad licking its lips sitting on his chest. But Callum would be damned if this wasn’t the comfiest he’d been in forever. That is, until he heard Rayla. “Callum? Callum, where’d ye go?”

Without a moment’s hesitation he’d scooped Bait up in one hand and yanked his pants back up with the other, “Just a- gimmie a minute! Had to- was just- bathroom! Pee, I had to pee, yep, and Bait was being my… look out.”

“ ‘at’s fine, I’ll take over as look out fer now.” Rayla seemed too tired to question him or his disheveled appearance. Callum nodded, placing Bait on the ground, “Right, good, great, I’ll be sleeping then, in the cave. Asleep. Goodnight!”

Maybe, if he played his cards right, Callum wouldn’t have to be pent up on this adventure at all. Bait seemed to pulse softly as if in odd agreement.

No Place Like Home

Derek Morgan x reader

TW: Mentions of sexual assault on reader, murder, blood, violence, regular criminal minds stuff, angst with a happy ending, this gets very dark at some points so please read at your own discretion, I think that’s it. Lmk if I missed anything.

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Baraboo Wisconsin.

Y/N L/N’s hometown. The one she left the second she turned sixteen and never looked back. Baraboo is a quaint little place, beautiful views and fun places to go if someone knows where to look. It’s a tight-knit community that’s for sure. Where everyone knows everyone and whatever secrets someone has also belong to the rest of the town. It can be endearing at times but also make an individual feel claustrophobic.

She never planned on coming back here. She graduated college at fourteen and worked her ass off to save enough money to leave by the time her sixteenth birthday rolled around. In fact, that was her birthday present to herself. To get the hell out of there.

Y/N’s father died when she was six years old. He was a hero, a firefighter. He died saving a family of six from a burning house. He was the only one who didn’t make it out alive that day. He managed to get every person out with minimal injuries. Just couldn’t seem to save himself.

After he died, Y/N’s mother, Lisa L/N, was a mess. Completely ignored her daughter after her husband’s, started drinking. Y/N practically raised herself. Until her step father came into the picture. Adrian Cole. The name itself gives her sickly chills just thinking about it.

Y/N continued her studies after getting her first bachelors degree at fourteen. She ended up with a doctorate and three masters under her belt by the time she turned eighteen. The girl is what most specialists would consider a “high potential intellectual.” She has advanced cognitive abilities that contain superior pattern recognition, enhanced situational awareness, an eidetic memory, advanced deception detection, superior deductive reasoning, mental simulation/scenario building, and advanced problem solving.

She’s rather valuable to say the least.

Y/N has had the world at her fingertips since she was born. She’s smart, cunning, calculated. She knows exactly how to get what she wants. Unfortunately, she doesn’t screw up from time to time.

Hence why she got arrested for petty theft when she was eighteen.

She had been working odd jobs for her entire life. Bouncing around from city to city, trying to find a place she could make her home. She somehow ended up in Quantico Virginia, a random bus stop on a long list of places she could go. But it had been a couple months since being there, and one week she didn’t make enough to get herself some basic grocery supplies, so she thought it wouldn’t be the most terrible thing to snag a loaf of bread on the way out of one of the many grocery stores in the city. She didn’t think they’d truly care about one loaf.

Clearly, she was wrong. They apparently needed that bread way more than she did.

And that’s how she ended up the in police station. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience at first. Most of the officers just thought she was some punk kid who got a kick out of stealing. She didn’t even bother trying to explain why she did what she did because they wouldn’t believe her in the first place. And it’s not like they could put her in the system, she was eighteen.

However, as they were processing her, she noticed some of the detectives talking about a murder investigation. They had a man who was found dead in his living room, and the prime suspect was the wife who mysteriously disappeared after it happened.

The thing about having advanced cognitive abilities, is that it’s easy to get stuck inside the many wrinkles of the brain. She also has a compulsive need to correct everything she sees is wrong, and that is why she interrupted their conversation by yelling across the station that the wife is actually a second victim, not the perpetrator.

Of course, most of the detectives thought she was full of crap and didn’t have any idea what she was talking about. The commander however, seemed to have a different opinion. She asked Y/N what made her think that the wife could be a victim in the case.

That led to her explaining that the photos in the crime scene board indicate that there was a third part, and that’s who killed the husband and kidnapped the wife. She pointed out how there were microfibers on the legs of the chair in the photo and that shows how someone had been tied to it with duct tape. And it clearly couldn’t have been the husband with the way there was no ligature marks or redness on his skin.

Needless to say, they found the wife and the person who killed the husband. Turns out it was his best friend who was having an affair with their son’s school teacher. The husband knew to much and threatened to tell his best friend’s wife which led to his demise. Who would’ve thought?

After that case, the commander offered her a position as a consultant on their cases. It gave Y/N the first feeling of stability she’s had in a very long time. She was even able to save enough to buy herself an apartment in the area, and put herself through the FBI academy. Her coworkers at the station were sad when they found out she had been recruited to one of the most elite units in the agency, but they knew her potential was to great to be stuck at the precinct for the rest of her life.

That’s why she’s currently back in Baraboo, the ripe age of twenty-five, with the rest of the Behavioral Analysis Unit team. The leader, Aaron Hotchner, and the rest of the group: David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Doctor Spencer Reid, and the one and only… Derek Morgan.

From the moment Y/N met Derek, they clicked. They both have very similar traits but differ in the most important ways. They somehow manage to understand each other on a level that the rest of the team can’t comprehend. The two of them share flirty and playful banter constantly. Everyone in the office thought Penelope and Derek were bad, at least until Y/N sauntered in. She distinctly remember Spencer having to leave the room, his face flushed red after hearing a conversation between Derek and Y/N.

The two always brushed it off as a joke, or something they do to cope with the darkness of the job, but there’s always been a little something more lying underneath it. Neither of them have been able to acknowledge it out loud, but it’s not hard to see.

“How does it feel to be home, Princess?” Derek asks with his signature golden smile, full intention of getting a flirty reaction from her. He cracks his back as the rest of the team gets off the jet, getting ready to split up and head to the station or to the most recent crime scene.

Y/N keeps her eyes trained in the distance, her face cold, hard almost. “This hasn’t been my home for the past nineteen years,” she replies stoically before walking off to join Hotch and Rossi by one of the SUV’s.

Derek is taken aback by her demeanor. She’s never been one to turn down an opportunity to flirt or be witty, especially with him. Y/N has always been a bit closed off, but in the same way Derek is. She doesn’t tell anyone about her past, and she’s never asked him about his. It’s one of the many things he loves about her. She didn’t push when she knew not to. In fact, the most they knew about where the other came from was home towns. Now he did share some about his family because they’re important to him, and so is Y/N, but he never delved too deep. That is until about last year when he was arrested for murdering three boys back home.

Y/N was the only one who tried to help without digging to deep into the things Derek didn’t want found. It killed her a little bit to see how Derek broke down when confronting the real perpetrator, Carl Buford, who also molested Derek as a child. That particularly made it a rough case for her, for more than one reason.

“Reid, JJ,” Hotch calls out to the two. “I want you guys to head to the station with Rossi, see if you can nail down a geographical profile.” The trio nods before heading over to their own SUV. “Prentiss, you come with me to talk to the most recent victims family. Morgan, L/N, head to the crime scene. Sheriff Mills will meet you both there to discuss the rest of the details.”

Y/N nods silently before turning back to Derek. She gestures towards the third black car waiting for them, walking past him and over towards the driver’s seat. Derek grabs her wrist gently as she tries to open the door, “Babygirl, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Following orders,” Y/N answers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Uh-uh,” Derek shakes his head. “Get your cute little ass in that passenger seat right now.” He demands.

“Derek, we don’t have time to argue over who’s gonna drive the damn car,” Y/N snaps, completely out of character. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

His eyebrows shoot up into his nonexistent hairline, “Whoa,” he puts his hands up. “I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetheart. I just like driving you around, that’s all. I thought it was like a little silent agreement we had. You being my passenger princess.”

Y/N’s face softens, but he can still see the anger behind her eyes. There’s definitely something wrong. She’s never been like this without a reason. A small sigh escapes her pink lips, “Okay…” she mumbles, very cutely in Derek’s opinion. “You can drive.”

Without another peep, Y/N climbs into her designated spot besides Derek. He casts her an unsure glance, wondering if maybe she’ll open up to him on the way to the scene, but unfortunately the entire ride was quiet. Apart from the playlist playing in the background. They both had created it for when they were partnered together on a case.

They pull up to the scene, no words uttered between them. Y/N stares out the window, sucking in a deep breath. Her knuckles are a pale white as she clutches onto the door handle. He wants to ask her what’s going through her mind, but knows better than to push when she’s like this.

She steps out of the vehicle, the gravel crunching beneath her feet, Derek following closely behind. As soon as they near the crime scene, she spots Sheriff Mills standing by the perimeter tape, arms crossed but eyes bright when he recognizes her.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Y/N L/N!” Mills calls out with a smile, his voice booming across the lot. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. How long’s it been?”

Y/N offers a small, genuine smile, feeling a rare sense of warmth. “Hey, Sheriff. It’s been a while. Nine years, I think.”

“Nine years,” he repeats with a shake of his head. “You disappeared on us, huh? Look at you now.” He glances over at Derek, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

Y/N glances between the two men. “This is Derek Morgan, one of the best profilers at the BAU.”

Derek steps forward and extends his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise,” Mills replies, shaking Derek’s hand firmly before turning back to Y/N. “You always had it in you to do something big.”

Derek watches the brief exchange with interest, noting how Y/N seems more at ease around the sheriff. There was history here, but also a quiet sense of trust. The sheriff gave Y/N a comforting nod before stepping back to let them work.

They cross under the yellow tape and into the scene, where the victim’s body lay partially covered. Derek’s voice is low but steady. “What are we looking at?”

Y/N knelt beside the body, her jaw tightening as she takes in the brutal injuries. “Ligature marks on the wrists and ankles…looks like she was tied up, maybe tortured before…” She let her words trail off, her eyes lingering on the deep gash across the victim’s neck. “The unsub wanted control, dominance. But there’s rage here too.”

Derek nods, crouching down next to her. “The way he escalates...it’s personal. There’s something he’s trying to prove with each kill. Could be revenge or a power trip.”

Y/N swallows hard, her breath hitching for a moment as she takes in the scene. She stands, brushing her hands on her pants as if trying to rid herself of the heaviness in the air.

Derek stands too, noticing the slight shift in her demeanor. He narrows his eyes, stepping closer to her. “You alright?”

Y/N hesitates, casting a glance back at the body. The familiarity of it all—the victim, her face—was a knife in her chest, twisting cruelly.

“I knew her,” Y/N finally admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “Her name’s Claire. We…we went to high school together.”

Derek’s brows furrow, concern flashing across his face. “You didn’t mention that at the briefing.”

She shrugs her shoulders, jaw clenching. “I didn’t think it would be relevant. I haven’t spoken to her in years.” Y/N turns away, looking out into the distance as if trying to find something to balance herself, her mind.

Derek’s hand gently rests on her shoulder, his touch grounding her in a way she wasn’t expecting. “If this is too much, you don’t have to–”

“I’m fine,” she snaps, though the sharpness in her tone is more for herself than him. She looks at Derek, the vulnerability showing through her usual hard exterior. “I just didn’t expect this.”

Derek softens. “You don’t have to be fine, Y/N. Not here, not with me.”

For a moment, their eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. But Y/N quickly broke away, determined to stay focused. “Let’s just…get back to work. We have to find this guy.”

They both turned back to the crime scene, their focus shifting back to the task at hand. But the air between them was heavier now, weighed down by the past that had resurfaced with a vengeance.

“Whoever did this,” Derek says quietly, “they knew how to get close. Claire trusted them.”

Y/N nods, her jaw clenched tightly. “He’s not a stranger to any of these women. He’s someone who knows how to blend in. And he’s getting more comfortable.”

Derek meets her eyes, a silent understanding passing between them. They have to catch this unsub before anyone else suffers the same fate. But now, more than ever, Y/N had a personal stake in it. And Derek was going to make sure that, whatever happened, he’d be there for her.

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The police station is humming with quiet intensity, the kind of buzz that always fills the air when the team is piecing together fragments of a case. They’ve been working nonstop, and the weight of the victims is hanging over all of them. Every detail matters now, every tiny revelation could lead them closer to the truth.

Hotch stands at the head of the room, looking over the maps, notes, and pictures strewn across the table. JJ, Reid, and Rossi are gathered around, quietly talking through the geographical profile they’ve been working on. Emily leans against the wall, flipping through her notes from the victimology interviews. Derek and Y/N, just back from the most recent crime scene, stand a bit apart, their body language tense but focused.

Hotch looks up from the map, his expression sharp and business-like. “What did you find at the crime scene?”

Derek steps forward, his eyes catching Y/N’s briefly before he speaks. “The victim was restrained before she was killed. Ligature marks on her wrists and ankles. She was tortured—cut up pretty bad across her torso. He took his time with her. Cause of death was strangulation, but the wounds came first.”

Reid frowns, looking over at the crime scene photos pinned to the board. “That suggests control. He didn’t just want to kill her, he wanted to inflict pain, assert dominance.”

Rossi nods in agreement, his tone grim. “He’s trying to break them down before killing them. Likely projecting some internal conflict, something personal.”

Y/N stands a little off to the side, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She hasn’t said much since they got back, but Derek knows that look. She’s running the details over and over in her mind, trying to process everything.

Derek glances at her again before continuing. “He’s gotta be in his late 40s or 50s. Strong enough to overpower, but methodical enough to take his time with them.”

Emily pushes off the wall and approaches the table. “We’ve seen it before. Someone with deep insecurities who compensates by dominating their victims. There’s probably a sexual element involved, even if it’s not immediately obvious.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, taking in all the information. Then he asks, “Was there anything else? Anything personal about her?”

There’s a pause. Derek hesitates, his eyes flicking over to Y/N again. He’s been waiting for her to say something, but she’s been holding back. She looks tense, almost like she’s somewhere else entirely.

Y/N clears her throat, feeling the weight of Hotch’s attention on her. “The victim... her name was Claire.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow. “And?”

Y/N shifts slightly, her voice a little quieter. “I knew her. We went to the same high school.”

That draws everyone’s attention. Reid, JJ, and Emily all look at her with surprise. Rossi’s eyes narrow in thought. Hotch’s expression shifts from curious to stern in an instant.

“You knew her?” His tone is sharp, almost accusatory.

Y/N nods, though it’s clear she’s uncomfortable. “Yeah, but... we weren’t close. I hadn’t seen her since high school. I didn’t even realize it was her until we were at the scene.”

Hotch’s jaw tightens, clearly frustrated. “And you didn’t think that was something we should’ve known?”

Before Y/N can respond, Derek steps in, his voice firm and protective. “She didn’t know until we got there, Hotch. This isn’t something she was hiding. It just hit her at the scene.”

Hotch’s gaze shifts to Derek, his expression still hard, but he doesn’t argue. There’s a beat of silence, the tension palpable in the room. Y/N looks down at the floor, her jaw clenched, clearly battling with the emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

Reid, ever the analyst, chimes in. “If Y/N knew the victim, that could mean the unsub has a connection to her past as well. It’s possible he’s targeting women from the same community.”

JJ nods thoughtfully. “If the victims are all from the same area, it might explain how he’s able to blend in so easily. He knows them, at least in passing.”

Y/N swallows hard, feeling the pressure of everyone’s eyes on her. She’s never liked being the focus of attention, especially not when it comes to something this personal. She hates how it feels like she’s under a microscope right now.

Derek steps a little closer to her, his hand brushing her arm lightly, a silent reassurance. His voice softens, just for her. “You okay, babygirl?”

She forces a tight smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m fine.”

Rossi taps the edge of the map in front of him. “If this unsub is blending in with his victims, he’s not the type to stand out. He’s attending social gatherings, getting close to them before striking. He’s comfortable in these environments.”

“That’s how he’s avoiding detection,” Emily adds. “He’s slipping under the radar, appearing harmless.”

Sheriff Mills, who’s been standing quietly in the back of the room, finally speaks up. “You think he’s been attending community events?”

Rossi nods. “It’s likely. He’s integrating himself into their lives without raising suspicion.”

The sheriff frowns, thinking for a moment. “Well, Diane Cole—one of the most prominent women in town—she hosts a weekly Sunday luncheon. Half the community shows up after church.”

Y/N’s entire body goes rigid at the mention of the name. Her breath catches in her throat, her heart pounding suddenly in her chest. The rest of the team doesn’t miss the way her expression changes, the way she seems to freeze in place.

Hotch notices it immediately, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Y/N? Why does that name mean something to you?”

Y/N tries to keep her composure, but it’s slipping. She feels exposed, vulnerable, like the walls she’s spent years building are crumbling around her. Her voice comes out strained, barely above a whisper. “Because Diane Cole is my mother.”

The room falls silent. No one says anything for a moment as they process what she just said. The different last names had kept them from connecting the dots until now, but the revelation is staggering.

Rossi’s eyes soften with understanding, but Hotch’s expression grows darker. He takes a slow breath, his frustration evident. “You didn’t think to tell us that your mother hosts one of the biggest events in town? One that our unsub no doubt plucks his victims from?”

Y/N shakes her head, her voice cracking slightly. “She and I... we haven’t spoken in years. I left home when I was sixteen, Hotch. It’s not like I’m going out of my way to connect with my mother. She’s not—” She stops herself, not wanting to open that door. “She’s not apart of my life. We’re not close.”

Hotch is clearly irritated, but before he can say anything else, Derek puts his hand on Y/N’s back, his voice low and calm, but with a protective edge. “Look, Hotch, this isn’t easy for her. She’s not keeping things from us on purpose. Let’s just focus on what we know and move forward.”

Hotch stares at Derek for a long moment, clearly weighing his words. Finally, he nods, letting the issue drop for now. “Alright. The luncheon is our best lead. Y/N, Derek, Emily—you three will come with me and we’ll see if anyone stands out. We need to be cautious. We don’t know what this guy looks like yet, but he’s dangerous.”

Y/N swallows hard, nodding along with the rest of the team. She feels Derek’s steady presence beside her, his hand on her arm again, grounding her. She meets his eyes for a brief moment, grateful for his unwavering support.

“We got this,” Derek murmurs, just for her. His voice is soft but full of confidence.

Y/N takes a deep breath, steadying herself. “Yeah. We do.”

As the team breaks off to prepare for the next steps, Y/N lingers for a moment, the weight of what’s to come settling heavily on her shoulders. She’s about to walk back into a part of her life she thought she’d left behind for good, and the thought terrifies her. But with Derek by her side, she knows she can face it. She has to.

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The drive to Y/N’s childhood home is filled with a heavy silence. Derek occasionally glances over at her, but she stares straight ahead, her face unreadable. He knows she’s shutting down, retreating into herself as the memories she’s been trying to bury claw their way to the surface. The tension in her body has been there ever since they received word that the unsub might be attending her mother’s Sunday luncheon, and it hasn’t left her since.

As the car pulls up to the house, Y/N’s stomach knots. The familiar two-story building looms in front of them, looking almost exactly the same as it did the day she left nine years ago. The white picket fence, the flower beds her mother used to tend to religiously—everything looks frozen in time, untouched by the years she’s been gone.

Derek cuts the engine and turns to her. “You sure about this, princess?”

Y/N swallows hard, forcing a small nod. “Yeah.”

She isn’t sure. Not even close. But she’s here for the case, and that’s what matters. She can’t afford to let her emotions get in the way of the investigation, no matter how much being here is already tearing her apart.

They step out of the car, and Derek moves beside her, a steady presence as they walk up the path. Hotch and Prentiss are already ahead, scanning the area as they approach the front door. Y/N’s eyes flick around, taking in the familiar sights—the swing set that used to creak with the wind, the porch steps she used to sit on every evening, staring at the stars. All of it feels distant, like a life that belongs to someone else.

As soon as they step onto the porch, the front door swings open. Diane Cole, Y/N’s mother, stands in the doorway, her face lighting up in a wide smile. “Y/N!” she exclaims, her voice filled with warmth and hospitality as if no time has passed at all. “Oh, my goodness, it’s been so long!”

Y/N’s body tenses as her mother wraps her in a tight embrace. The scent of her perfume—familiar, suffocating—fills Y/N’s nostrils. She stands stiffly, arms at her sides, not reciprocating the hug. She can feel Derek’s eyes on her, the weight of his concern palpable, but she doesn’t move.

Diane pulls back, her hands still on Y/N’s shoulders, beaming at her. “Look at you! You’ve grown into such a beautiful young woman.”

Y/N forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Hi, Mom.”

Diane doesn’t seem to notice her daughter’s coldness or, if she does, she ignores it. “Come in, come in!” she says, ushering them inside with a wave of her hand. “Everyone’s already here. We were just about to start lunch.”

Y/N steps inside the house, the familiar creak of the floorboards under her feet making her stomach turn. The smell of roast chicken wafts through the air, mingling with the sound of chatter coming from the dining room. It’s all so painfully familiar, like stepping back into the life she left behind.

Hotch and Prentiss follow them in, their eyes scanning the room, already analyzing the guests milling about. Derek stays close to Y/N’s side, his presence grounding her, but even that isn’t enough to quell the anxiety bubbling up inside her.

As they move into the living room, Diane can’t seem to stop talking. “It’s so wonderful to have everyone here. We do this every Sunday, you know. Just a little gathering after church. Keeps the community close.”

Y/N nods absently, her eyes flicking around the room. She’s searching for something—someone—though she’s not entirely sure who she’s looking for. The unsub is here. That much they know. But standing in this house, surrounded by people she hasn’t seen in years, feels like walking through a minefield.

Diane turns to Derek, her smile still plastered on her face. “And who’s this?”

Diane’s smile widens. “Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, Derek. Please, make yourself at home. We’ve got plenty of food, and if you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Derek replies politely, though his attention is already back on Y/N. He can see how tense she is, the way her eyes are darting around the room, scanning faces, assessing the crowd. She’s in work mode, but there’s something deeper, something more personal eating away at her.

As they move further into the house, Diane continues to chatter, offering drinks, asking about their work, pretending as though she hasn’t been estranged from her daughter for nearly a decade. Y/N barely listens, her mind racing as she takes in every detail, every face.

As they began to split up, Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. She’d always preferred to keep her distance from the noise and chaos of family gatherings, and today was no different. “I’ll check the backyard,” she suggested, hoping to create some space between herself and the tension inside.

“Be careful,” Derek said quietly, watching her with concern as she slipped outside.

Once she stepped into the backyard, the sun was almost too bright, illuminating the vibrant flowers in the garden but doing nothing to warm the coldness settling in her bones. She leaned against the wooden railing of the porch, breathing deeply, attempting to ground herself.

For a moment, it was quiet. The chirping of birds and the rustle of leaves filled the air, allowing Y/N to momentarily escape the chaos inside. But just as she started to relax, the back door creaked open. She turned to see Adrian, her stepfather, stepping onto the porch. The brightness of the day dulled as he approached, his confident demeanor wrapping around her like a shroud.

“Y/N,” Adrian said, his voice dripping with feigned warmth. “It’s been a long time.”

Y/N stiffened, her pulse quickening. “What are you doing here?” she asked, trying to keep her tone steady despite the rising tide of panic.

“I came to check in on you,” he takes a silly step closer to her. “You’ve grown up so much,” he said, his eyes scanning her with a mixture of familiarity and something more invasive. “You know, your mother is worried about you. You should visit more often.”

Y/N felt a wave of discomfort wash over her. “I’m fine. I don’t need checking on,” she replied firmly, trying to keep her tone from betraying her nerves. “And I have a busy job. I don’t have time for trivial visits.”

“Really? You’re fine? Because you look like you’re about to bolt. I thought we were past this.” Adrian’s voice turned sharper, an edge of annoyance creeping in as he crossed his arms over his chest.

At that moment, Derek stepped out onto the porch, instantly sensing the tension in the air. He glanced between Y/N and Adrian, picking up on the shift in Y/N's posture—the way her shoulders were tense and how she seemed to shrink back.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Derek asked, concern lacing his voice.

Adrian turned his gaze to Derek, sizing him up as if trying to gauge his intentions. “And who might you be?” he asked, feigning curiosity but with a hint of challenge.

“I’m SSA Derek Morgan with the BAU,” Derek replied, his tone neutral but his stance protective. “We’re here to investigate.”

“Investigate?” Adrian scoffed, his eyes narrowing. “What do you need to investigate in a place like this? It’s just a house.”

“Everything in here could be important,” Derek replied evenly, maintaining eye contact. He felt the tension simmering in the air, aware that any hint of aggression could escalate quickly.

Adrian took a step closer to Y/N, invading her space. “Well, Y/N and I have a lot to discuss, don’t we? Family matters are important. So I think it would be best for you to continue your investigation inside.” There was an underlying threat in his tone, one that made Derek’s instincts flare.

Derek shifted forward, placing himself between Adrian and Y/N, his presence a solid wall. “She doesn’t seem to want to talk,” he said firmly, glancing back at Y/N, searching for reassurance in her eyes. “I think you should give her some space.”

Adrian’s demeanor shifted slightly, his confidence cracking as he tried to reassert himself. “Space? I’m her stepfather. I have every right to speak to her.”

“That doesn’t mean you have the right to make her uncomfortable,” Derek replied, his voice steady but edged with authority. He wasn’t here to play games—he needed to protect Y/N, especially if something felt off.

Adrian’s smile faded as he took another step forward, his eyes darkening. “You’re just some guy, aren’t you? An FBI agent trying to play hero. What do you know about family?”

Derek squared his shoulders, refusing to back down. “I know that family should support one another, not intimidate. And from what I can see, you’re not doing that.”

Y/N felt the tension spike, her heart racing as she sensed Adrian’s irritation boiling beneath the surface. Derek was standing his ground, but she could see the way Adrian’s demeanor shifted—his posture becoming more aggressive.

Adrian’s gaze flicked between Derek and Y/N, and she felt the weight of his scrutiny. “You don’t know her like I do. I’m trying to help her,” he said, his voice lowering as he leaned closer to Derek, trying to assert dominance.

“Help her?” Derek echoed incredulously, his tone clipped. “By pressuring her? You’re not helping anyone but yourself.”

“Watch yourself,” Adrian warned, his voice turning low and menacing. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with here.”

Derek’s jaw tightened, and he took a step closer to Adrian, matching his intensity. “And you don’t know who you’re threatening. Back off.”

Just then, Y/N felt the walls closing in around her. Adrian’s words were wrapping around her like a vice, squeezing her heart and pushing her instincts into overdrive. She could feel herself being pulled in two different directions—Derek’s protective stance grounding her but also reminding her of the past she was trying to escape.

“Y/N,” Adrian said, his tone shifting again as he turned back to her, that familiar manipulation creeping into his voice. “You don’t have to listen to him. I’m just looking out for you.”

She shook her head, the memories crashing over her like a wave. “I don’t need you to look out for me,” she said, her voice firm but low, trying to keep it steady as her hands trembled at her sides. “I’m done with that.”

Derek shot her a glance, noticing the shift in her demeanor. “Y/N, you okay?” he asked, concern thick in his voice.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, but the strain in her tone betrayed her.

Adrian smirked, the kind of smile that sent a chill down Y/N's spine. “Look how protective you are of her,” he said to Derek, his voice dripping with mockery. “Isn’t that sweet?”

“Enough,” Derek said sharply, stepping further in front of Y/N, his body a shield. “You’re crossing a line.”

Adrian’s demeanor darkened, his posture becoming more aggressive as he looked back at Derek, trying to assert his dominance. “You think you can just waltz in here and play protector?”

“Believe me man, I’m not playing,” Derek replied, his voice low and steady.

That was when Y/N felt the weight of everything pressing down on her. She couldn’t stand it. Adrian’s presence, the memories flooding back, and the way Derek was standing up for her—it was all too much. Without another word, she turned and walked briskly toward the front door, needing to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

“Y/N!” Derek called after her, but she was already moving, her heart pounding in her ears.

She rushed through the living room, her mind racing. She felt a wave of anxiety surge as she stepped outside, the sunlight hitting her face, but it felt distant, almost cold.

“Y/N! What happened?” Prentiss shouted, following her outside. The concern in her voice echoed in Y/N’s mind.

“I just... need a minute,” Y/N replied quietly, trying to control the tremble in her voice.

Hotch stepped outside, his brow furrowed as he assessed the situation. “What’s going on?” he asked, his tone serious.

“Nothing,” Y/N breathes heavily, her chest heaving from anxiety and anger. “Nothing, I-I I’m fine.” She didn’t want to relive it; she didn’t want to talk about Adrian or the past. “I don’t want to discuss this.” She shakes her head rapidly.

“Why are you upset?” Prentiss pressed gently, her eyes filled with concern.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Y/N finally snaps, her voice slightly rising as she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She turned away from them, needing to find a way to breathe, to think without the weight of their gazes on her.

“Y/N, please,” Derek said softly, stepping closer but remaining respectful of her space. “Talk to us. We’re here to help.”

She shook her head, feeling the panic rising within her. “I can’t do this right now,” she said, her voice breaking. “I just– I cant. I’ll jeopardize the case if I go back in there. And I can’t do that to those women. I can’t mess this up.”

With that, she turned and strode toward the SUV parked at the curb, the need to retreat overwhelming her. She climbed into the back seat, shutting the door firmly behind her, pressing her forehead against the cool glass, desperately trying to find calm in the chaos that had erupted.

“Y/N!” Derek called again, but she didn’t respond, her heart racing as she stared out the window, willing the memories to stay buried and the present to fade away.

The team gathered outside, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern as they exchanged worried glances. “What do we do?” Prentiss asked, glancing from Hotch to Derek.

“We give her space,” Hotch replied, his voice steady. “She’ll talk when she’s ready.”

Derek clenched his fists, frustration coursing through him. He wanted to reach out, to comfort her, but he knew that pushing would only make things worse. “I hate this,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on the closed door of the SUV.

As the minutes ticked by, Y/N closed her eyes, willing herself to breathe, to find calm in the chaos swirling around her. She couldn’t let Adrian’s presence ruin everything she had worked for, everything she had fought to build. But deep down, she knew the shadows of her past wouldn’t let her go so easily.

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Walking back into the police station, Y/N managed to get the entire teams attention without even speaking. The unfortunate part about working with such observant people is that even if she breathes a little too heavy, they can tell exactly what she’s thinking. And let’s just say her breathing is way different than what they would consider her “normal.”

Spencer, JJ, and Rossi all watch with concerned eyes as Y/N practically storms into the designated room they have for the case, slamming the door behind her. The glass windows shake from the force and she places her hands on the table before zeroing in on the case board in front of her.

Hotch, Emily, and Derek walk in, their own cautious gaze setting everyone on edge. Rossi looks at the trio, pointing back at the fuming agent in the other room. “What happened there?”

Hotch states after his younger agent, tilting his head as he tries to gauge whether she’s more upset or angry from beyond the window. “Something set her off at the house,” he answers.

“Not something, someone,” Emily corrects with a worried sighs. “As soon as her stepfather showed up, it was like her entire world stopped. And not in a good way.”

“Stepfather?” JJ furrows her eyebrows.

“Adrian Cole,” Reid answers for them, causing everyone to look at him confused.

“And how did you know that?” Hotch questions flatly.

“When she mentioned Diane was her mother, I did some digging and asked some of the other officers about her,” Reid admits with a harsh swallow as he notices Morgan glaring in his direction. No doubt for probing into Y/N’s life. “Diane got married to Adrian when Y/N was eight years old. Three years after her father died. He’s currently fifty-two, eight years older than Diane. I guess everyone was pretty surprised to find out they were seeing each other,” Reid reveals. “Sheriff Mills told me that it was the talk of the town when it originally happened. Adrian was kind of a recluse, not approached by many, kind of a ‘creep’ as described by the deputies,” he gestures over in the other direction. “So it was surprising to find out that Diane ended up with him, especially since she married her high school sweetheart, Y/N’s father, Daniel L/N.”

“So she kept her father’s last name,” Rossi points out, glancing back over to Y/N. “Shows how much she truly wanted to distance herself from her mother. Not taking her new husband’s last name.”

“Or maybe she was just closer with her dad,” JJ suggests.

“Or maybe her stepfather never got over his ‘creep’ reputation,” Emily scoffs out. “Gotta admit, if he was my stepdad, I wouldn’t want his last name either. I mean, the way he walked up to Y/N… it was almost predatory.”

Derek stands off to the side, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He listens to the conversation but doesn’t say anything yet. He’s been watching Y/N closely ever since they walked into her mother’s house, noticing every shift in her demeanor, every tell-tale sign that she was far from okay. Now, hearing the others discuss her like she’s some puzzle to solve only makes his jaw tighten.

“We can’t just sit here and talk about her like she’s not in the other room,” Derek’s voice breaks them out of their conversation. “We shouldn’t be discussing and probing into her life without talking to her first.”

“She doesn’t exactly look like she wants to talk, Derek,” Emily points out. “She kind of bit our heads off when we originally tried to get something out of her. We’re just trying to get an idea so we can help.”

“Well maybe instead of talking about her we should be talking to her,” Derek says snippily. “Then we might actually be able to get her to open up.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow, “You think she’ll open up?”

“To me? Oh, I know she will,” Derek nods his head confidently. “She trusts me. If anyone is going to get through to her, it’s me.” He says, his voice steady, though there’s an edge of protectiveness in his tone.

Without waiting for anyone else to respond, Derek heads toward the room where Y/N disappeared. The others exchange quick glances, knowing Morgan has a point. He’s closer to Y/N than anyone else on the team, and if she’s going to talk to anyone, it’s him.

Inside the room, Y/N stands in front of the caseboard, her eyes scanning over the photos and files without really seeing them. Her mind is racing, and it’s written all over her face. Derek walks in quietly, closing the door behind him. He watches her for a moment, his eyes softening as he sees the tension in her shoulders, the way she’s gripping the edges of the table like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.

"Princess," he says softly, using the nickname he knows she responds to when she’s upset. "You okay?"

Y/N doesn’t turn around, her voice coming out strained. "I’m fine, Derek."

He takes a step closer, his tone gentle but firm. "No, you’re not. Talk to me."

She lets out a shaky breath, still not looking at him. "It’s... it’s nothing. I just—there’s too much going on. I need to focus."

Derek’s not buying it. He steps closer until he’s standing next to her, he gently places his pointer finger under her chin, lifting her head up to him. "Y/N, look at me."

Reluctantly, she allows him to lovingly adjust her head, her eyes meeting his. The moment their gazes lock, Derek can see it—the fear, the anger, the confusion. She’s holding it all in, trying to keep herself together, but it’s a losing battle.

"You don’t have to do this alone babygirl,” Derek says softly, his voice full of concern. "Whatever’s going on, you know I’ve got your back."

For a second, she looks like she’s going to say something, but then she shakes her head, turning away from him again. "It’s just... I don’t know, Derek. I don’t know what to do, what to say,” she huffs frustratedly. “Things are a lot more complicated than everyone thinks they are.”

He watches her, giving her the space she needs but staying close, his presence solid and unwavering. "You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Just talk to me."

Y/N’s breath hitches, and she suddenly steps back from the caseboard, running a hand through her hair as she starts to pace. "It’s not just about Adrian, okay? There’s... there’s something else."

Derek watches her carefully, his eyes tracking her movements as she starts to unravel. "What is it?"

Y/N’s mind is moving a million miles a minute, pieces clicking together as she starts connecting the dots. She stops pacing and stares at the board again, her heart pounding. "I found the connection," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

Derek’s brow furrows. "What?"

Y/N swallows hard, her hands trembling slightly as she starts flipping through the files. "It’s me,” she admits shakily. “I’m the connection,” she rushes out, throwing files left and right. “The girls. I know all of them. I guess I haven’t been processing faces until now, trying to block out the memories I have here, but I can’t do it anymore. These women…” her hands tremble as she moves. “They’re dead because they knew me.”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart, slow down,” Morgan places his hands on her shoulders gently to get her to stop rambling. “What do you mean you’re the connection? You haven’t been here in over nine years.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, letting the warmth of Derek’s hands try to slow her mind. It works momentarily, but does nothing to slow her racing heart at the realization that she could be the key to this entire case. And she did exactly what she promised she wouldn’t. She jeopardized it. Ignored the fact she faintly recognized each victim. Ignored the nagging feeling in her brain that something was off. Thats why the team has been struggling to track the unsub, because they’ve been missing one key element. The connection between the victims. Why he picks them.

“They were all part of the same support group I was in when I was a teenager.” She swallows thickly, rubbing her now sweaty, nervous hands on her slacks. “All of them. That’s why I recognized Claire... and the others.”

Derek steps closer, his voice low but urgent. “A support group? For what?”

Y/N’s chest tightens as the memories flood back, memories she’s tried so hard to bury. "For survivors of abuse. Sexual abuse."

There’s a beat of silence as Derek processes what she’s just said. His jaw tightens, his protective instincts kicking in even harder. "Y/N..."

She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything else. Her eyes dart across the files, her mind racing as she speaks faster. "This isn’t just random. He’s targeting them, Derek. The girls from the group. I don’t know why, but he’s going after them. And now... now it’s happening again. They went through something so evil and vile as kids and now… now they’re being killed for it.”

Derek takes a step forward, his hand reaching out to gently grab her arm, grounding her. "Hey, slow down. We’ll figure this out, okay? You’re not alone in this."

“Derek, what if that means I’m next?” She asks him. “We have five victims, and there was only six people in the group. I’m the only one left.” She moves back to the case board, trying to see if any new information will reveal itself after this epiphany. “And it-it’s not like a lot of people knew about it…” she mumbles. “It was a private group, very secluded. It was us and whoever we chose to tell about our experience.”

“Babygirl…” The way Derek calls out to her, she can already tell exactly what question he’s going to ask next. Which is the main reason why she didn’t tell him sooner. She’s been trying to avoid the answer to this question for her entire life.

“Who did this to you?”

Y/N freezes, her eyes traveling down to her feet. She fights off the tears welling behind her eyes, needing to stay strong. This can’t have a hold over her anymore. She can’t keep living like this. In terror of returning to the place she used to call home.

“Adrian,” she says, her voice cracking. She doesn’t even have to turn to Derek to know his fists are clenched. She can feel the anger radiating off of him at the revelation. It all makes sense to him now. Why Y/N’s been acting off since getting to Baraboo, why she was uncomfortable in her childhood home, why she looked like she wanted to run and hide the second Adrian approached her. He violated her in a way no person should ever be violated. In a way that he understands all too well.

He manages to get ahold of his fury, walking closer to her. He sits down in the chair directly next to her body. He reaches out, grabbing her hand and rubbing his thumb over her soft skin. “How long?” He asks, a pained tone in his voice.

She keeps her eyes trained on her shoes, “Ten to fourteen,” she says barely above a whisper. “I went to the support group until I left for college at sixteen.” Y/N sits down next to him, almost hiding within herself. “Most of the other girls were older than me,” her eyes barely graze over the crime scene photos.

“Babygirl, this went on for four years? Did you tell anyone?” Derek wonders, not judging because he didn’t say anything either.

“I tried–” her voice cracks again as she chokes back her tears. She clears her throat to regain her composure, “I told my mom,” she admits quietly. “But she didn’t believe me. She told him I told her and that’s when things went downhill. She called me a liar, told me no one would believe me. Adrian played the victim throughout the whole thing, but the same night he came into my room and–” she sucks in a deep breath. “He told me it was my fault. That he was being so nice to me for doing what he was doing. Told me I wouldn’t make it without him or his help. And I was just a kid,” she sniffles. “I was scared out of my mind. I couldn’t defend myself because I believed him. And my own mother didn’t even think I was telling the truth. How could I tell the police?”

Derek doesn’t say anything but moves forward to pull her in for a hug. He holds her tightly and she slowly melts into his chest. They both can feel the eyes of the team on them, but choose to ignore it. “That’s why I went to the support group.” She continues, slightly muffled by Derek’s chest. “Because they were feeling the same way I was. Even if the people who did it to them were caught and put away, they still understood what it felt like.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you to have to relive this, but I gotta ask… Who else knew about these meetings?” He lifts her head up, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Anyone that you can think of. If you truly believe you are the key to this case, you’re the only one who would know.”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Y/N says honestly. “Whenever I would go I would say it was for tutoring or book club. I didn’t want them to know I was looking for help. But the other girls could’ve told someone. I don’t think they did though. When we went it was for us. To help us cope. We didn’t feel the need to tell anyone else because we had each other.” Her forehead creases as she tries to think of someone who could’ve been aware. “I guess the only other person who would’ve known is the girl who facilitated it. She graduated five years before I even got there. Got a degree in psychology. I think she actually became a therapist here.”

“Would she have told anyone?”

“No,” Y/N shakes her head. “She was big on confidentiality. That’s why we all trusted her.” She thinks back to try and remember any detail she could. “Her name is Candy Brown. Dark hair, a couple inches shorter than me, real organized, had set schedules and certain ticks. Like borderline OCD. She would have to click her pen three times when moving onto a new person while taking notes.”

“She kept records?” Derek’s face suddenly morphs into one of extreme concern. “Y/N, if she wrote down everything you guys ever told her, someone could’ve easily found the notes and that’s how our unsub got his information. That’s how he could’ve figured out who was in the group.”

“We need to tell the team,” Y/N looks out the window towards the group of people who haven’t moved since Derek came to talk to her.

“Baby–”

“No,” she shakes her head, using her right hand to cup the side of his face. She looks him in the eyes genuinely for the first time since arriving in Wisconsin. “It’s okay,” Y/N reassures him. “This is information that pertains to the case and can help catch our unsub. They need to know.”

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

After telling the team all about her past, Y/N felt embarrassed but overall relieved. She could tell they were heartbroken for her, but none of them went too overboard with it, knowing it would make things worse if they coddled her over it. She was grateful to have Derek with her. She wouldn’t have been able to get through it without having a panic attack if he wasn’t holding her hand all the way through it.

Hotch sent her and Derek to find Candy and ask if she had lost her notes in recent months while him and the rest of the team delivered the more updated profile. Now that they had all the information, they could get a better idea of who this guy is.

Y/N was almost in awe of how large Candy’s building was. Sheriff Mills had given her and Derek the directions to get there, and it was almost refreshing seeing someone from that time in Y/N’s life flourishing. Especially since the other girls didn’t even get the chance to.

Walking into the office, Derek and Y/N flash their badges at the receptionist, informing her of who they are and why they’re here. She quickly guides them to Candy who is fervently writing down information.

“She just got done with a patient,” the receptionist whispers. “She’ll be done any second now.”

Suddenly the dark haired woman’s head shoots up, but not before clicking her pen three times. The same thing she needed to do when trying to move on from person to person.

“Candy Brown,” Derek begins, walking up to the woman to respectfully shake her hand. Y/N follows after him, her hands folded neatly in front of her. “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, and this is–”

“Y/N L/N,” Candy finishes, a mixture of shock and confusion in her voice. A small smile crosses her face as she takes in the now adult woman in front of her. “Wow,” she breathes out. “I haven’t seen you in–”

“Nine years?” Y/N finishes.

Candy nods, “Yeah.” She furrows her eyebrows, looking in between her and Derek, “What’s going on? I know your guys’ team is here investigating the murders, but why are you here?” She asks curiously.

“You remember the support group you created when I was here?” Y/N immediately jumps into the conversation, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“Yes?”

Y/N takes another step forward, analyzing the room around her, “I don’t know if you realized, but all of the victims were participants in the group.”

“Of course I realized,” Candy says. “That’s why I was so surprised to hear that you not only came back but are also working on a case where you could be a potential target.”

“And you weren’t worried about being a target?” Derek asks, brow quirked.

“No,” Candy answers with a small shrug. “After he killed Laura-”

“The second victim,” Y/N adds for clarification.

“Yeah,” Candy nods. “After I found out she was killed, I knew it was a matter of time before the others went.”

“And how exactly did you come to that conclusion?” Derek folds his arms, not understanding how she has so much intel on the case.

She swallows thickly, looking around and avoiding eye contact with the two agents. Y/N tilts her head, narrowing her eyes which makes the shorter woman squirm. “Candy…?” Y/N says expectantly.

“I thought they would’ve told you by now,” Candy starts. “I had a different office before this one. My old one burned down after it was burglarized.” Her explanation makes Y/N’s stomach twist in multiple different directions. Her and Derek make eye contact, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Let me guess, this all happened around two months ago?” Derek sighs when he watches Candy nod her head.

“Yeah. So someone did tell you?”

“No,” Y/N corrects. “That’s just when our unsub started killing.” She looks at Candy with a serious expression, “Listen, I need you to think long and hard about who could’ve had access to your office. Who also might’ve taken too much of an interest in the work you do with sexual abuse survivors.”

Derek elaborates more on the profile, “He should be a white male, late 40s to early 50s. He acts confident as a way to overcompensate for his past failures. He can be a bit of a creep sometimes but tries to cover it up with a facade of charm. He’s become an influential member of the community, but he wasn’t always that way. He had to claw his way up.”

Candy’s brows are furrowed in thought as she thinks deeply about what they’ve said. Her mind goes over the different people that were employed with her, those who spoke to her about her work, who showed interest. That’s when her eyes light up. She looks at Y/N, her lip quivering.

“What?” Y/N asks, immediately noticing the shift. “Candy, what is it?”

“The only other person who could’ve had access to my office in the other building was the cleaner I hired,” she answers. “I hired a third party to come later at night so my day janitors and custodians could go home earlier during the day.”

“Do you remember who this third party is?” Derek asks urgently, getting ready to phone Hotch.

Candy’s face falls, “It was Adrian,” she reveals quietly. Y/N feels like she’s been shot in the chest when the words leave her old friend’s lips. “He’s had this free lance cleaning business for some time now. It’s been pretty successful with all the small businesses around here. He was always asking questions after my meetings, but I would never tell him much. You know I wouldn’t betray Doctor-patient confidentiality like that.” Y/N nods along with the statement. “But after you left, the girls continued to see me. We met in group settings until I built my practice and then they started coming individually. Just for someone to talk to.”

“Did you still keep handwritten notes?” Y/N questions.

“Yeah,” Candy nods. “It’s the most efficient way for me to keep my thoughts organized. But there was one evening I remember that Claire came in and she was telling me how she felt isolated from the community. It was something all the girls had been hinting at, but I didn’t take it seriously until I realized all of them had said it. I was frustrated that I didn’t see them all asking me for help. So when Adrian came in that night, I just said that some of my clients felt alone.” She mentally facepalms, “I know I shouldn’t have even engaged in conversation, but he was just being so involved and nice about it. That’s when he told me to invite them to your mom’s luncheon.”

“And did they go?” Derek questions.

“Yes,” Candy nods. “I encouraged them to go together as emotional support. They all went to the same one.”

Y/N sighs, realizing they’ve already spoken to their unsub and let him get away. “And let me guess, it was the Sunday before your office was burglarized?”

Candy rubs a hand over her face, “And their files were the only ones unaccounted for.”

“Y/N, we need to call Hotch,” Derek tells her seriously. “We’re gonna need backup.”

She nods, a more than determined expression on her face. “Let’s go.”

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Rolling up to her mother’s house twice within the span of a day was unexpected for Y/N, but she’s determined now more than ever to make sure this visit leaves an impact. The woman is the first one out of an SUV, darting towards the door with her gun ready in her hands. Derek follows closely behind, accompanied by Hotch and the rest of the team.

Diane’s car is in the driveway, so Y/N knows this isn’t going to go as smoothly as she desires. If she could just go in and take Adrian down, she would. But she knows her mother is going to try and fight it.

Hotch gives the signal, and Derek pushes the door open, stepping in first with Y/N close behind. The rest of the team fans out, guns at the ready, but Y/N’s focus is singular: Adrian.

Diane is in the living room, flipping through a magazine. She looks up, startled to see them. “Y/N?” she says, her voice warm with surprise. She stands, smiling tentatively, “What’s going on? What are you doing here?”

Y/N’s throat tightens as she looks at her mother. The warmth, the confusion in Diane’s eyes—it almost feels like any other visit, except this time, it’s not. “We need to talk to Adrian,” Y/N says, her voice steady but distant.

Diane frowns, glancing at the rest of the team behind her daughter. “What’s going on? Why do you need to talk to him?” Her smile fades slightly, but there’s still an air of disbelief as if this can’t possibly be serious.

Hotch steps in, his voice professional, calm. “Where’s Adrian, Mrs. Cole? We need to speak with him.”

Diane looks between Y/N and the team, her confusion deepening. “He’s in the bathroom. But what’s this about?”

Y/N feels the familiar dread creeping in, the same doubt her mother always carried. She avoids Diane’s gaze and nods toward the hallway, signaling to Derek and Rossi. “Go get him.”

As Derek and Rossi head toward the hallway, Diane’s tone shifts, becoming more defensive. “Wait, Y/N, what’s going on? You can’t just barge in here—”

Y/N feels a knot form in her chest, but before she can respond, Derek’s voice calls out, sharp. “Adrian! We know you’re in there. It’s over!”

There’s a clatter from the bathroom, followed by silence. Y/N’s eyes dart toward the hallway, tension crackling between them all. She can’t breathe, waiting for the door to open, for Adrian to step out.

Diane’s face hardens now, the warmth fading. “Wait, you think Adrian had something to do with these murders you’re here for?” she asks, her voice incredulous. “This is absurd. He hasn’t done anything!”

Derek reappears at the doorway, his eyes locked on Adrian as he exits the bathroom. Adrian’s face is calm, too calm, but there’s an edge to his voice as he looks from Derek to Y/N. “What’s this about?”

“We know what you’ve been doing,” Y/N says, her voice breaking the silence, though her throat feels like it’s closing in on itself. The weight of her past is crashing down all at once. “We know you found out about my old support group and have been preying on the women.”

Diane’s eyes widen in shock, her voice turning sharp. “Wait—what? This is what you’re accusing him of?” She turns to Y/N, disbelief clear in her expression. “You can’t be serious, Y/N. You’ve always had it out for Adrian—”

“Mrs. Cole, stop,” Derek interrupts, his voice firm as he steps between Y/N and her mother. His protective instincts kick in, but there’s a bite in his words now as he faces Diane directly. “You didn’t believe her then, and I get that you don’t wanna believe her now, but this isn’t a game. He’s connected to multiple murders.”

Diane’s face turns pale as the words sink in, but she shakes her head, her hands trembling slightly. “You’re wrong,” she says, her voice breaking. “Adrian wouldn’t—he didn’t do anything.”

Y/N feels the sting of her mother’s disbelief. After everything, Diane still won’t accept it. Derek glances at Y/N, his voice lowering but full of fire. “She’s your daughter. You should’ve protected her. Instead, you’re defending him.”

Adrian looks like he’s about to speak when Diane steps in front of him, as if shielding him. “Y/N, this is insane. You’re arresting him for murders? You’re destroying our family—again!”

Y/N snaps, emotion flooding into her voice, “Do you even hear yourself? Do you understand what’s happening right now?” She doesn’t want to raise her voice, but it’s like years of anger are bubbling to the surface. “He hurt me. He manipulated me, and now other women are dead because of him!”

Diane looks at Y/N with wide eyes, as if she can’t process what she’s hearing. “You’re lying,” she says quietly, her voice shaking. “You’re making this all up. You always blamed Adrian for everything—”

Y/N’s heart twists painfully in her chest. Even now, her mother doesn’t believe her. Derek’s jaw clenches as he steps forward, practically growling now. “She’s not lying. She’s been through enough, and it’s time you started listening to her instead of defending this monster.”

Adrian, sensing that things are slipping out of his control, sneers at Derek. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Derek’s eyes are sharp as he glares back, full of unspoken anger. “I know enough.”

Hotch steps in then, signaling Spencer, Rossi, and Prentiss. “We’re taking him in,” he says, his voice calm but decisive.

Diane stumbles backward as Morgan pulls Adrian’s arms behind his back to cuff him. “You can’t do this!” Diane cries out, her hands shaking as she reaches for Adrian.

“Ma’am I’m going to need you to step back,” Prentiss warns, her voice firm but not unkind.

Diane turns to Y/N, desperation in her eyes. “Please, Y/N. Don’t do this.”

Y/N’s throat tightens again, the pain almost unbearable as she looks at her mother. “I didn’t do this. He did.”

As they haul Adrian toward the door, Derek stays by Y/N’s side, his hand gently resting on her arm. He leans in, his voice softening just for her. “You alright?”

Y/N can barely nod. “I just… I need this to be over.”

Derek squeezes her arm gently, the tension between them unspoken but palpable. “We’ll make sure it is,” he says quietly. “He’s not gonna hurt you anymore.”

As Adrian is led out, Y/N watches him disappear through the door, the weight of everything she’s carried for so long finally starting to lift. Derek stays close, his protective presence like a shield around her.

“I should’ve seen this sooner,” Y/N whispers, her voice full of regret.

Derek looks at her, his eyes full of something deeper, something he hasn’t said yet. “This isn’t on you,” he says, his voice steady. “We’ve got him now.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, her heart pounding, but there’s a strange sense of relief starting to creep in. Maybe, finally, this part of her life is coming to an end.

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

In the interrogation room, Adrian Cole lounges in his seat, his cocky smile never wavering as Hotch and Derek sit across from him. The fluorescent lights overhead cast a cold, sterile glow, but Adrian is undisturbed, clearly enjoying himself. His eyes flick between Hotch and Derek, and there’s something calculating in the way he looks at them, like he’s already planning his next move.

Hotch keeps his voice steady, professional. “Adrian, we know about your connection to the women in the support group. Candy Brown confirmed that you used to work for her, that you were asking questions about the survivors. You were studying them, weren’t you? Figuring out how to get close.”

Adrian leans back in his chair, chuckling lightly. “Questions? You mean me being polite? Curious, maybe? Come on, Agent, that’s hardly a crime.”

Derek’s jaw tightens, but he remains composed. “You fit the profile. We know you’ve been stalking these women. We know Y/N was your real target all along.”

Adrian’s smile grows wider, his eyes shifting to Derek. “Oh, Agent Morgan. I see why you’re here now.” He leans forward, the playful tone in his voice turning darker. “This isn’t about the profile, is it? It’s about her. You’re here because of Y/N.”

Derek’s gaze hardens, but he doesn’t take the bait. “I’m here because of what you did.”

“What I did?” Adrian raises an eyebrow, mockingly confused. “You mean what you think I did. You’re just mad because you know I got to her first.”

The air in the room seems to thicken with tension as Adrian watches Derek’s reaction, clearly enjoying the game he’s playing. Hotch tries to redirect. “This isn’t about Y/N. It’s about the six women you killed.”

But Adrian’s eyes stay locked on Derek. “Six women… sure, that’s bad. But you know what’s worse, Derek?” He leans forward, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Knowing she’ll never be yours. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try to protect her, you’ll always be too late. You can’t fix what’s already broken.”

Derek clenches his fists under the table, the muscles in his jaw working as he forces himself to stay calm. Adrian’s words are cutting deep, hitting exactly where he intended.

“You’re wrong,” Derek growls, barely keeping his composure. “She’s stronger than you think. And you’ll never touch her again.”

Adrian’s smirk doesn’t falter. “Strong? Sure. Strong enough to get away from me last time. But the thing is, Derek… people like her? They always come back. It’s just a matter of time.”

Derek leans in, his voice deadly quiet. “You’ll rot in prison before you ever get that chance.”

Adrian sits back, casually crossing his arms over his chest, his grin widening. “We’ll see.”

Hotch, sensing Derek’s rising anger, stands up. “We’re done here.”

Derek hesitates for a split second, his eyes still locked on Adrian, but then he rises as well. Adrian chuckles lowly and his eyes follow Derek as he moves toward the door. “Leaving already, Derek?” Adrian’s voice drips with mockery. “Y/N must have told you everything by now. How she couldn’t resist, how much she used to like it when I—”

Derek spins back around, his anger breaking through for just a second. “You need to shut your mouth.”

Adrian’s smile only widens as he leans forward, reveling in Derek’s reaction. “Touched a nerve, did I? Guess it’s not just Y/N’s mind I wormed my way into, huh?”

Before Derek can step closer, Hotch holds out an arm, signaling him to back down. He knows Adrian is trying to bait Derek into losing control. “We’re leaving,” Hotch repeats firmly.

As soon as the door to the interrogation room shuts, Derek finally lets the anger show on his face. “That guy is a real piece of work,” he mutters under his breath. He paces, trying to rein in his emotions. Rossi, JJ, Prentiss, and Spencer are waiting, their expressions tense.

Hotch nods, his expression grim. “He knows how to manipulate, how to get under people’s skin. That’s why he’s dangerous. But we need a confession.”

Derek shoots him a look, his voice hard. “You’re not seriously thinking about sending Y/N in there.”

“She’s the only one he’ll talk to,” Hotch replies, his tone even, though there’s clear discomfort in his eyes. “He’s too focused on her. He won’t crack for us, but with her, he might.”

“She doesn’t need to be anywhere near that psycho,” Prentiss adds, backing Derek up.

Rossi nods, his arms crossed. “He’ll try to manipulate her, Hotch. He’ll push all her buttons. You know how dangerous that could be.”

Hotch looks around at the team, his face unreadable, but resolute. “He’s not going to talk to anyone else. Y/N’s the reason this is all happening—he’s fixated on her. If we want a confession, we need her.”

Derek is still pacing, shaking his head in frustration. “Hotch, you know what he’ll do. He’ll tear her apart mentally.”

“Derek…” Y/N’s voice cuts through the tension as she steps forward, her face calm but determined. “I need to do this.”

Derek looks at her, his expression a mix of frustration and concern. “No, Y/N. You don’t have to do this. Let someone else handle it.”

Y/N meets his gaze, her voice steady. “It has to be me. He won’t talk to anyone else, and you know it. I’m the one who has to end this.”

Derek runs a hand over his face, still conflicted, but he knows she’s right. He can see the resolve in her eyes, the same determination that’s been driving her since this case started. After a long moment, he nods, though it clearly kills him to do so. “Fine. But I’m right outside the door. The second you need me, I’m coming in.”

Y/N gives him a small, appreciative smile. “I know.”

With a final glance at the rest of the team, Y/N walks into the interrogation room. Adrian’s eyes light up the moment he sees her, his grin returning.

“Well, look who it is,” he says, leaning back in his chair like he’s just been handed a gift. “I knew you’d come.” His eyes flicker with amusement as he takes in her demeanor. She’s calm. No sign of fear on her face, making his fists clench. “You always were a clever girl, Y/N. Smart enough to know what you wanted but never strong enough to follow through. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You think you’ve won.”

Y/N narrows her eyes. “I didn’t come here to win anything, Adrian. I came here to end this.”

He scoffs, leaning forward again, his tone dropping to a darker pitch. “End what? You think locking me up will change anything? You’ll still be thinking about me. You’ll always be connected to me. You and I, Y/N, we’re the same.”

Y/N’s lips curl into a tight smile. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not like you, Adrian. I’m stronger because I don’t need to control anyone to feel powerful. You? You’re nothing. You never were. You thought you had control over me, but really, you were just a pathetic coward trying to feel important.”

Adrian’s jaw tightens, but Y/N can see the flicker of anger behind his eyes. She presses on, her voice dropping to a cold, cutting tone.

“You couldn’t control me, Adrian. That’s why you went after those other women. You thought by killing them, you’d finally feel like you had power over something. But deep down, you knew the truth. You’re impotent. You can’t control anyone, least of all me.”

His hand twitches on the table, and his smirk falters. Y/N knows she’s hit a nerve.

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” Adrian hisses, his voice venomous. “You think you’re untouchable? I killed those women because they were weak! They were nothing compared to you! But I did it for you. Every one of them, Y/N! Every one was for you, to remind you of what I can do.”

His face twists with fury as he leans in, practically spitting the words now. “I did it because I knew it would bring you back to me. And guess what? It worked. You’re here. And when this is over, you’ll never forget me.”

Y/N doesn’t flinch, her eyes cold and unwavering as she meets his gaze. “You’re right about one thing, Adrian. I won’t forget you. But not because I’m scared or because you have any hold over me. I’ll remember you as the pathetic, cowardly man who couldn’t even face his own failures. You killed those women because you couldn’t handle the fact that I got away from you. That I beat you.”

Adrian’s face is red with rage now, his fists clenched as he glares at her. He’s lost his cool completely, no longer the charming manipulator he was trying to be. He’s exposed.

Y/N stands up slowly, looking down at him with calm, cold eyes. “You wanted me back in your life? Well, congratulations, Adrian. You’ve got a one-way ticket to prison, and the only time you’ll see me again is when you’re rotting behind bars.”

She leans in just a little, her voice dropping to a near whisper, her words like ice. “I won. You lost. And the worst part for you? You’ll spend the rest of your miserable life knowing I never belonged to you.”

Adrian’s face twists in a snarl, but he doesn’t say anything. Y/N doesn’t need him to. She’s already shattered his delusions.

As she turns to leave the room, she pauses in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder one last time. “Enjoy prison, Adrian. You’ll be surrounded by men just like you. Maybe they’ll remind you of what real powerlessness feels like.”

She walks out without looking back, leaving Adrian sitting there, fuming and defeated.

Outside, the team watches through the observation window. Derek’s eyes never leave Y/N as she steps into the hallway, her expression unreadable but victorious.

As soon as she’s out, Derek moves toward her, his voice low and full of quiet admiration. “You were incredible in there.”

Y/N gives him a small smile, but it’s bittersweet. “It’s over.”

Derek steps closer, his voice softening. “You did it, Y/N. You took him down.”

She nods, but before she can respond, her mother’s voice cuts through the moment. Diane, standing at the end of the hall, her eyes wide with shock and regret, had heard every word of Adrian’s confession.

“Y/N…” Diane’s voice trembles, her face pale as she takes a tentative step forward. “I didn’t know. I didn’t believe you and I’m—”

“Stop,” Y/N says, her voice sharp but not raised. She turns to face her mother, eyes hard. “I forgive you, Mom. But I’ll never forget what you did. Or didn’t do.”

Diane’s face crumples as she stares at her daughter, tears welling in her eyes. “Please, Y/N. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know how to—”

Y/N cuts her off again, shaking her head. “It’s too late. You had years to believe me. Years to help me. I’m done waiting for you to care.”

Diane reaches out, but Y/N takes a step back, her face unreadable. “Take care of yourself, Mom. I don’t need you anymore.”

With that, Y/N turns and walks away, the weight of years of pain finally lifted from her shoulders.

Derek watches her go, admiration and sadness flickering in his eyes. He catches up to her and without a word, pulls her into a tight embrace, holding her like he never wants to let go.

“You did good babygirl,” he murmurs into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “You did real good.”

Y/N lets out a shaky breath, leaning into him. “It’s really over,” she whispers, and for the first time, she truly believes it.

₊‧ʚ ﹆・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱ🌿ᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

Y/N stood in her kitchen, stirring the lavender tea she had made for herself, hoping the soothing scent would calm her nerves after the intensity of the past few days. The warmth of the mug seeped into her hands as she glanced at the clock—it was late, and for the first time since they wrapped the case, she was alone. It was a rare, precious quiet. She wore her comfiest pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, her hair thrown into a messy bun as she padded over to the couch.

She sank into the cushions with a sigh, trying to let the exhaustion slip away. Just as she curled up, ready to embrace the quiet, a knock came at the door.

Her brow furrowed. Who could it be at this hour? A part of her tensed, but when she peeked through the peephole, her face softened.

Derek.

A smile immediately spread across her lips as she quickly unlocked the door and swung it open. "Derek," she said, warmth filling her voice. "What are you doing here?"

He stood there, dressed casually in jeans and a fitted t-shirt, but the warmth in his dark eyes was what made her heart flutter. He held a small box in his hands, the edges of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I couldn’t let you be alone after everything,” he said softly. “And... I brought you something.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, eyeing the box with curiosity. “Oh? And what’s that?”

Derek stepped forward, holding the box out to her. “Carrot cake. Figured you could use a little sweetness after the last few days.”

Y/N’s smile brightened, and she laughed softly, the tension of the case beginning to melt away. “You remembered it’s my favorite.”

“Of course I did. I remember everything about you,” he said, his voice low and teasing, but there was an underlying sincerity in his words.

She took the box from his hands, shaking her head in amusement. “I think I need something sweeter than carrot cake, though.”

Derek cocked an eyebrow, that signature smirk playing at his lips. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Y/N met his gaze, her voice soft but playful. “You.”

The smirk on Derek’s face softened into something more tender as he watched her, his dark eyes flickering with a mixture of admiration and something deeper. “Is that right?”

She stepped aside, motioning for him to come in. “Come on, might as well share the cake if you’re here. I’m not letting you leave just yet.”

Derek chuckled as he stepped inside, glancing around her cozy apartment before his eyes landed back on her. “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

They moved to the living room, and Y/N placed the cake on the coffee table, her heart lighter now that Derek was here. The weight of the last few days seemed to lessen in his presence.

“So,” Derek said as they sat together on the couch, their knees brushing. “How are you holding up?”

Y/N exhaled, leaning back against the cushions. “I’m... okay. Honestly, I’m better now that you’re here. But it’s been a lot. I didn’t think I’d ever have to face him again, let alone...”

She trailed off, and Derek reached out, placing his hand gently on top of hers. “You don’t have to explain. What you did back there? Y/N, you were incredible. You stood your ground. You faced him head-on, and you came out stronger.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she said quietly. “You were right there the whole time, and knowing that... it made it easier.”

Derek’s hand slid up from hers, his fingers lightly brushing her cheek before he cupped the side of her face. His touch was warm, grounding. His voice lowered, filled with awe. “Y/N, I’ve always been in awe of you. Always. But after this... what you just went through? You’re the strongest woman I know.”

Her heart fluttered as his thumb softly stroked her cheek, his eyes searching hers. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the space between them charged with something unspoken but undeniably strong.

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, and she let herself lean into his touch. “Derek...”

Before she could say more, Derek’s eyes flicked to her lips, and in a soft, almost tentative movement, he leaned in and kissed her. It was tender, a kiss filled with emotions that had been building for so long. Her hand found its way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath her palm as she kissed him back, letting the warmth of him pull her in.

When they pulled away, their foreheads rested together, and Y/N smiled softly. “That was...”

“Long overdue,” Derek finished for her, his lips brushing hers again in a whisper of a kiss before he pulled back slightly to look into her eyes. “You’re amazing, you know that? I’m proud of you. And I’m not just saying that because of this case. I’ve always been proud of you.”

Y/N’s chest tightened with emotion, and she bit her lip to keep her smile from spreading too wide. “You’ve always been my rock, Derek.”

“And you’ll always have me,” he said, his voice low and certain, like a promise.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Derek still holding her close, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in days. She rested her head against his shoulder, her fingers still lightly touching his hand.

Derek wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer as they sank deeper into the couch. Neither of them felt the need to speak anymore, the warmth of their closeness enough.

Eventually, the exhaustion from the case caught up to them. Their breaths evened out as they lay together, bodies intertwined on the couch, the world outside fading away as sleep overtook them.

For the first time in days, Y/N finally felt at peace, knowing she was exactly where she was meant to be—in Derek’s arms, where everything just felt right.